#so far there are two good fate characters and voyager is one

[hot-take-tournament]

finally somebody gets it

HOT TAKE TOURNAMENT

PRE-PRELIMINARY #60

Submission 374

The Voyager Probe is the BEST fate character

He is a SPACE CHILD he is COSPLAYING THE LITTLE PRINCE he is the PERSONIFICATION OF HUMANITY'S CUROSITY AND LOVE FOR THE STARS he is AN EDGY TEENAGER GIRL'S BEST FRIEND he has TEAMED UP WITH A T REX IN CANON. He may not be a sexy waifu, he may not be a very powerful unit in fate grand order ,but he is MY SON and he has done nothing wrong in his life

Pre-preliminaries will be used to determine what qualifies as a hot take. Propaganda is encouraged!

Also, remember to reblog your favourite polls for exposure! (exposure like when you're exposed to the fact that the KISS Scooby Doo crossover does actually exist, scarring you for life)

special thanks to @plotdesigner for introducing me to fate, this design is so fucking cleeeeeaaaaan

[imakemywings]

Why Ship Eärendil/Elwing?

I think there are a lot of good reasons so let’s have a look (｡･∀･)ﾉﾞ

1. They have a lot in common. Both of them went through pretty traumatic events as children that involved being driven from their homes by an attacking force, losing family to that attacking force (Eärendil’s grandfather, Elwing’s parents and her brothers), and ending up refugees. They’re also at this point the only Peredhil in Middle-earth. There are a lot of difficult experiences they share, which allows them to understand each other on a level people without those experiences can’t as well.

2. They grew up together. They grew up in the Havens at Sirion and childhood-friends-to-lovers is a fire trope as far as I’m concerned. It’s very possible they played together as kids and they were there through each other’s awkward adolescent phases and talked each other through other crushes before they finally got together.

3. They obviously care about each other. We don’t see the details of a lot of marriages in The Silmarillion. Many of them are left wholly to the imagination as to how those characters acted around each other, but Eärendil and Elwing are explicitly devoted to each other.

“Eärendil found not Tuor nor Idril, nor came he ever on that journey to the shores of Valinor, defeated by shadows and enchantment. driven by repelling winds, until in longing for Elwing he turned homeward....” (Emphasis added)

Eärendil attempting his first voyage to Valinor is beset by all kinds of dangers, but it’s missing Elwing that finally makes him turn back and call this trip a bust.

“For Ulmo bore up Elwing out of the waves, and he gave her the likeness of a great white bird, and upon her breast there shone as a star the Silmaril, as she flew over the water to seek Eärendil her beloved.” (Emphasis added)

Beloved remains one of the peak terms of endearment, lbr.

“Then Eärendil, first of living Men, landed on the immortal shores...And Eärendil said to [his companions]: ‘Here none but myself shall set foot, lest you fall under the wrath of the Valar. But that peril I will take on myself alone, for the sake of the Two Kindreds.’

But Elwing answered: ‘Then would our paths be sundered for ever; but all thy perils I will take on myself also.’ And she leaped into the white foam and ran towards him...”

Elwing really said “if you’re damned then I will be too.” Here she accepts Eärendil’s fate, just as Eärendil later accepts hers and chooses the Elven path.

“But when all was spoken, Manwë gave judgement, and he said: ‘In this matter the power of doom is given to me. The peril that he ventured for love of the Two Kindreds shall not fall upon Eärendil, nor shall it fall upon Elwing his wife, who entered into peril for love of him...” (Emphasis added)

Even the Valar recognize how much these two care about each other!

“And at times, when Eärendil returning drew near again to Arda, she [Elwing] would fly to meet him, even as she had flown long ago, when she was rescued from the sea. Then the far-sighted among the Elves that dwelt in the Lonely Isle would see her like a white bird, shining, rose-stained in the sunset, as she soared in joy to greet the coming of Vingilot to haven.” (Emphasis added)

After their journey, even in spite of all their grief, they still find joy in one another. Their marriage is still strong even through everything they’ve seen.

4. They saved Middle-earth together. These two did what no one else had managed and sailed back to the Blessed Realm to get help for Middle-earth. Clearly, power couple moves.

”Yet Eärendil saw now no hope left in the lands of Middle-earth, and he turned again in despair and came not home, but sought back once more to Valinor with Elwing at his side.”

Friendly remind this journey is supposed to be impossible, but they are determined to do it because they know Middle-earth cannot survive without the intercession of the Valar.

“Few of the Teleri were willing to go forth to war, for they remembered the slaying at the Swanhaven, and the rape of their ships; but they hearkened to Elwing...and they sent mariners enough to sail the ships that bore the hose of Valinor east over the sea.”

But for Elwing, the Teleri would not have engaged in the war effort at all; she alone convinced them to help.

“But Eärendil came, shining with white flame, and about Vingilot were gathered all the great birds of heaven and Thorondor was their captain, and there was battle in the air all day and through a dark night of doubt. But before the rising of the sun Eärendil slew Ancalagon the Black, the mightiest of the dragon-host, and cast him down from the sky...”

From start to finish Eärendil and Elwing have been committed to saving Middle-earth from Melkor’s menace and boy do they see it through.

5. Eärendil chooses immortality to stay with Elwing. In a mirror of Beren and Lúthien’s story, Eärendil surrenders a mortal fate to stay joined with Elwing.

“Then Eärendil said to Elwing: ‘Choose thou, for now I am weary of the world.’ And Elwing chose to be judged among the Firstborn Children of Ilúvatar, because of Lúthien; and for her sake Eärendil chose alike...”

Eärendil both trusts Elwing to make this choice for both of them and makes the same choice as her even though it isn’t his first preference.

6. Eärendil named his boat, which becomes the immortal vessel in which he sails through the skies, after Elwing. Can we say romance?

7. Elwing gives Eärendil the Silmaril. In general, most people who get their hands on a Silmaril are not keen to give it up. Yet Elwing passes the Silmaril onto Eärendil without a fuss and never again takes possession of it.

8. Their super rad mythological couple energy. Half-Elven couple who braved the sea to voyage to a realm it was supposed to be impossible for them to find to bring back divine help for their home? Last queen of the forest kingdom who in her moment of greatest despair is lifted up by divine forces and transformed? Hero of the last bastion of the Elves in Middle-earth who uses his mariner skills to make an impossible voyage, bearing back a jewel thought lost forever? Former Elven queen who now abides in a white tower on the sea and talks to birds and transforms into a bird herself to fly up to greet the return of her husband? Immortal captain of a flying ship that slew a dragon and now keeps watch over the stars? They are killing it y’all.

Feel free to add on o(*￣▽￣*)ブ

All quotes in this post are from the “Of the Voyage of Eärendil and the War of Wrath” chapter of The Silmarillion!

Convinced? Not convinced? Try these fanfic recs under the cut:

At the Water’s Edge by crackinthecup - G - 3,349 - Eärrámë is nearly ready to sail. Tuor and Idril’s days at the Havens of Sirion are drawing to an end. It is a time of loss and hope for all, and Elwing is no exception.

Elwing, Survivor by crownlessliestheking - T - Elwing and Earendil after arriving in Valinor.

From the Ones Who Came Before by Krita - T - 5,247 - Elwing was young when Menegroth fell. Melian's line is complicated, but far more so is growing into yourself.

A Glimpse of the Harbor by me - G - 1,925 - Elwing watched for the return of Earendil's ship.

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful by mochimilku - T - 1,185 - Eärendil, Elwing, and the ocean.

Let Us Taunt Old Care with a Merry Air / And Sing in the Face of Ill by me - G - 643 - When Elwing lands in the Havens, she befriends a young princeling from Gondolin.

The One With All the Birds by clothono - G - 46,543 - Elwing and Nerdanel in Valinor in the Fourth Age; a story about children coming home.

So Summer Comes by potatoesanddreams - G - 2,654 - Ada said he would be home by autumn equinox. It is winter solstice now.

Untitled by simaethae - G - E-squared family fluff.

[ac-liveblogs]

The only reason Shielder is even a special class is because the fgo writers will never let anyone (even another shielder) turn out to be a better character or better shielder than Mash. The class is stapled to Mash and it probably won't even be given to Galahad if ever gets added to fgo. And I'm not saying this to bash Mash btw. It's just how it is unfortunately. I'm in the boat that Mash's whole character arc is weak to start with but not gonna stir things up again.

Shielder is a special class for lore reasons, but I don't think it'll stay locked away forever and given Mash is completely free and the best in her niche, I don't think it's a huge problem or anything seriously worth complaining about if it is. I do have a few thoughts on the state of Shielder, though, which basically boil down to "if they're gonna do it, they're gonna do it soon".

Mash is no longer the best defensive Servant. LB6 aside, as far as the plot is concerned she's been locked to the heavily nerfed Ortenix since the Lostbelts started and she's been steering towards a more offensive build since Olympus. Once her new kit is complete (and presumably good), there is no way she'll remain a looping defensive NP-spammer - at least, probably not in Story Mode. At which point - why not introduce other flavours of Shielder?

Type-Moon has given potential other candidates for the Shielder class - Galahad, and I believe Achilles. I think Ajax was stated as well. If this was going to stay a special snowflake class, I don't think they would've bothered. Nasu's mind is an enigma, however.

Strange/Fake also has it's own special snowflake classes; Watcher and Gatekeeper. Other Fate properties have streamlined their unique classes into FGO's class system; Faker>Pretender, High Servant>Alter Ego, Voyager>Foreigner (for some fucking reason), so if we ever get S/F added to FGO and if S/F ever does anything with Gatekeeper... yeah.

Assuming FGO will address the Galahad Question and not just relegate him to the power-up zone, that'll probably be soon, and would be the optimal time for new Shielders to start trickling in. Also, if we get Shielder powercreep, no-one would actually have a leg to stand on if they were annoyed about it being Galahad that creeps Mash.

After all this time it would generate a lot of hype, and it would sell extremely well. After the circus of Pretender servants we've gotten this year, I just... don't think it's off the table forever.

On Galahad as a Shielder

As the resident Galahad fanatic truther, I've been heavily considering his potential trajectory in FGO if/should/when he becomes playable. Obviously, unless something radical happens in the plot, if there are other Shielders he'll be one of them. And if there's only going to be one other Shielder, it'll be him. Anyway, compiling what we know about Galahad, his potential classes (barring shenanigans) are -

Saber - Galahad has two swords; the Sword of Strange Hangings and the Sword with the Red Hilt. Galahad Alter has two swords, at least one of which is the Sword of Strange Hangings, and it's hard to say if that's the sword either Galahad or Mash possesses. That said, we've seen our Galahad in combat three times. He did not use his sword in any of those fights - not even in Lostroom, where it's his actual body, and he has the sword. He uses his hand-to-hand and his shield. Interesting design choice that he would intentionally ignore it.

Lancer - the Lance of Longinus is Percival's Noble Phantasm, so. Post LB6, I just don't think this is on the table anymore.

Ruler - barring shenanigans, if he's not a Shielder my money is here. While not a Saint, Galahad... well, if anyone's going to qualify. It would also line up pretty well with the Ruler class' element of "neutrality" and Galahad's apparent indifference towards the Human Order (so says Merlin). HOWEVER. There is a spanner in the works, and it's a big one; that Rulers aren't supposed to want the Grail. Galahad obviously did, but Alter said that Galahad never actually had a wish and seemed to be searching for it because that's what he was supposed to do - his ~destiny and whatnot. Realising this changed the trajectory of Alter's life, but I'm unsure if, given the circumstances, that would disqualify Galahad from this class or not. And if it does...

Shielder: Galahad has been conceptualised as a Hero of the Shield ever since the Tachie days. The two skills we know he has - Mana Defence and Lord Camelot - are obviously defensive skills, and given Lord Camelot is referenced even in other works I find it extremely unlikely (barring shenanigans) that Galahad won't get it. It's also Galahad's abilities that qualified Mash (and, once upon a time, Tachie) for Shielder in the first place, so...

Yeah, I just think it's his most likely option at the moment. Who knows, maybe he'll manifest as a BEAST and stay in NPC hell forever. I guess that's possible...

Interesting Miscellany:

Galahad's Lord Camelot is stronger than Mash's. In Lostroom, Galahad uses a Noble Phantasm to actively reflect Saber Alter's Excalibur back at her - not an ability Mash has ever had - and his shield, Around Round Shield, was conceptualised to attack any non-Galahad folks that touch it. This is interesting because it provides an obvious higher-tier alternative to Mash's B+++ rank Lord Camelot... and Bazett was released early this year with a taunt/counter NP, so it's definitely on the table and would be a well-established Shielder upgrade. It's also a pre-established skill that makes Galahad similar to Mash, but distinct enough to make it worthwhile making him a separate Servant.

Artoria Avalon, via her Knight-of-the-Round-centric NP Round of Avalon, is currently the only unit in the entire game to have Anti-Enforcement Invincibility, and that's now been the case for two years. FGO is definitely the kind of game to withhold skills for lore reasons, so at this stage one has to wonder why. Never mind that Round of Avalon draws visual parallels to both Lord Camelot and Morgan's Lordless Camelot, and she in turn also has a lot of both story and conceptual/design connections to Mash/Tachie/Galahad. That's... potentially less relevant than the first part, could just be recycling mats, but while I already have the tinfoil hat on...

LB6 took "Mash and Galahad will separate forever and that's GOOD because he’s MEAN" out back and shot it behind the shed. It's possible they'll reconcile their skillsets in some way (FK Lancelot’s formchange... exists as a template), or Mash might grow beyond him to focus on the Black Barrel, but "Galahad Bad" is no longer the flavour of the year. If that's the case, Mash just might stay our Galahad stand-in forever and he doesn’t drop at all. We might also get GalahadAlter!Koharu, which would just be the cherry on top! /terrified sarcasm

But the LB6 mats indicate there are Galahad materials in existence because apparently he was in the OG LB6 draft!!! So he’s real!!! Or at the very least, has an NPC sprite sheet...!

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

As It Should Be ~ Lucy x Caspian

A/N: Hello lovelies, so this is well out of my wheel house. But thanks to Shadow and Bone I am well and truly back on my Ben Barnes Bullshit. Which included re-watching the Narnia movies and then I had some feels. I'm completely ignoring the books and this is way AU but I couldn't get it out of my head. So if there's any Lucian shippers out there, this ones for you. Spoilers for the movies.

Summary: Lucy had not been ready to leave Narnia. And Caspian had not been ready for her to go. Perhaps fate still had a plan.

Characters/Pairings: Lucy Pevensie/Caspian (everyone is of age, time works funny between the realms); Edmund Pevensie, Aslan

Warnings: Fluff, a little bit of angst, pining, spoilers for the movies.

Word count: 5800 (I don't know how it happened. I just had a lot of feels)

Caspian’s voyage on the Dawn Treader had been a success on all counts. But in spite of his resolve to be a great king of Narnia and to treasure the lands and people he had been chosen to rule, the young king was sorrowful on their return journey. His crew had known better than to question him when he returned alone from Aslan’s country. Drinian put a comforting hand on his shoulder, and Caspian clasped it for a moment before giving him a meaningful nod. Drinian got the Dawn Treader sailing for home while Caspian ducked below deck for just a moment to mourn the loss of his friends. When he returned, his smile was not quite so bright as it had been when the king and queen of old had been on the ship.

The crew was happy to be going home, but they also felt the loss of their companions quite acutely. It had taken no time at all for them to love Lucy and Edmund. The younger of the Kings and Queens of old were kind and hardworking and had immediately treated them as old friends. Narnia they supposed was their great love. And while Eustace had taken some extraordinary circumstances to warm up to, he too was missed, and they all found the ship far too silent with Reepicheep’s running commentary.

Their return took nearly six months as they returned all those who had been taken by the mist to their home islands. So, while the crew was joyous to be returning home after nearly two years, everyone was weary when they finally docked on the shores beneath Cair Paravel. Drinian directed the landing team, as more sailors came to help them unload. Caspian gazed up at Cair Paravel in all its glory. It had been mostly restored before he departed, but now, it was back to its true grandure, he wished Lucy and Edmund could have seen this.

He had only a moment before his advisors were upon him, welcoming him back and informing him that a feast was already being prepared for his return. They clamored for his attention, luckily with good news. They each were reporting that peace remained and things had grown even more bountiful in the past six months. Caspian listened carefully making notes on what to discuss with them tomorrow, before finally excusing himself to clean up before the feast.

After what could only be described as the most delicious meal he’d ever had, Caspian took his time reacquainting himself with the halls of his castle. During his time away, the team in charge of the interior restoration had finished all of their projects, which included the portraits of the Pevensies at the height of their rule. He inspected each one closely, trying to find the familiar features of his friends in the older faces.

For the most part he could see it. Although it was odd to see them at that age - all older than his 23 years. Well, all but Lucy. She had been just shy of 21 when they tumbled back through the wardrobe. She was the only one who never mentioned how hard it was to go from being an adult back to being an 8 year old. But he suspected that she struggled more than she let on, though she would never tell her siblings while they suffered their own distress. His thoughts lingered on the youngest of the great kings and queens. He couldn’t help but wonder if his dear friend would look the same when she reached 20 again.

Her portrait hung beside her sister’s and one could easily spot the differences. Susan held a quiet beauty, befitting her title of Gentle. But even the stillness of a portrait could not tame Lucy’s wild beauty and adventurous spirit. He knew well the twinkle of excitement the artist had captured. It was one that never failed to bring a smile to his face.

Caspian had been captivated by Lucy during their time on the Dawn Treader. More than he’d been willing to admit, even to himself. Though he suspected Edmund had seen it. He’d even expected a brotherly talk at one point, since Peter was absent. But he merely smiled, and took every opportunity to let them be together. Drinian had also made more than a few subtle comments, but Caspian had chosen to remain silent.

While the young prince had had eyes only for Susan upon their first meeting in terms of amorous intentions, Lucy’s unwavering faith and goodness had endeared her to him. When she stood across the river with only a dagger in her hand, facing down an army with a smile he could see why she of the four was the Valiant. She was amazing, even at age 11.

Her return 3 years later, had only deepened that opinion. She had matured and Caspian found himself lost in her. He’d been telling the truth when he told her that he hadn’t found a queen as beautiful as Susan, but what he left out was that there had been none as fierce as her either.

The pair had spent every possible moment together – stargazing, checking maps, telling stories. He loved her stories. Queen Lucy the Valiant had truly been a queen of her people. While her siblings had often been on the frontlines of battle, Lucy had always been protecting the people – evacuating them, learning from the healers how to dress wounds that didn’t require her cordial. She was the most beloved of the four, even in the stories Caspian had heard before he met them. Though she would refute that claim a thousand times over.

Other stories were filled with tales of dancing with fauns and dryads. Mr. Tumnus was a frequent character, and Caspian could hear the heartache in her voice when she spoke about him. He would often take the opportunity to squeeze her hand in comfort, which she also responded to with a grateful smile. Edmund would often join in, offering tales of his own or teasing Lucy.

One time in particular, he felt the need to remind her of the time a suitor had come to court and she had been so used to dancing with the fauns during their revelries that she panicked when he had offered his hand for a formal dance.

“All you could hear in the ballroom was Tristan grunting and Lucy apologizing,” Edmund chuckled.

Lucy’s cheeks flamed red and she glared at her brother for a moment, before a smirk slid across her features.

“At least I didn’t end up in a fountain after my first kiss,” she shot back.

Edmund’s cheeks tinged ever so slightly, but his expression was wistful.

“She was lovely. And it was worth it. I hope she had a good life.”

“I’m sure she did. But I’m sure she missed you.”

The siblings shared a look, regrets and memories flowing through their minds. Once again, Caspian was struck by how much life and loss these two “children” had experienced.

Later that night, after confirming their course with Drinian, Caspian was ready to retire to the barracks area for a few hours of sleep. But as he passed his quarters which he had given to Lucy, he heard humming. Moving as quietly as he could, he neared the cabin, noting the slightly ajar door. Caspian couldn’t help the smile that crossed his lips as he watched Lucy dance to her own tune as she looked in the mirror, the steps somewhat disjointed. He slipped inside, leaning against the doorjamb, making sure she couldn’t see his reflection.

“Would you like a partner?” he finally asked.

Lucy jumped at the unexpected voice, whirling as her cheeks filled with color upon realizing she’d been caught.

“Caspian! I was just… Edmund made me remember and I thought I’d practice.”

“In case we have a ball on the Dawn Treader?” he asked, grinning wildly at her.

“Of course. I’ve been to many balls on ships,” she giggled before sobering slightly. “No, but there’s dances back home. And I’ve never been, but I suspect they don’t much care for the type of dancing the fauns and dryads do.”

The mention of home twisted in Caspian’s gut, but he pushed the thought away. He would enjoy what time he had with her. Each moment was a gift.

“Well, I don’t know how they dance in your world, but it always helps to have a partner. May I?”

She nodded, uncharacteristically shy.

He snapped to attention and made a formal bow, which made her laugh but she curtsied anyway before taking his hand. He pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles, before placing her hand on his shoulder. His right hand fell to her waist, he his left clasped hers firmly.

“’Ready?”

“Absolutely?”

He wasn’t positive, but they both sounded breathless.

He began to hum, counting the beats by gently tapping his fingers against her side. He gave it a count of 8 before he began to move. It was rough at first, they were both out of practice… and nervous if he was being honest. But after a few crushed toes, they found their rhythm and soon they seemed to float. Caspian waltzed her around the room, twin smiles adorning their faces. Before they knew it, they were simply swaying in place gazing into each other’s eyes.

“I wonder if Susan is dancing like this with her naval officer,” Lucy wondered aloud, regretting it the moment it slipped past her lips. “Oh, I’m sorry, Caspian. I wasn’t thinking.”

He chuckled and shook his head.

“Don’t worry, Lucy. I’m not upset. I’m happy that your sister is moving on with her life. No one deserves to be alone.”

“But you’re alone,” Lucy pointed out.

Not cruelly, more confused by his logic.

“I’m not alone right now. I’m with you.”

And I will take that, he thought to himself. Just this moment and whatever else I get.

“Susan and I are worlds apart. In more ways than one,” he added slyly.

Lucy gazed up at him, no longer swaying at all.

“Caspian, I-“

At that moment, the ship lurched sending her crashing into his arms. It lurched again and sent them both to the floor. A storm had reached them and they heard the crew members racing about on deck. They shared one more moment before sprinting into action.

“Your majesty.”

His chief advisor’s voice jostled Caspian from his memories.

“Lord Pallburn. How can I help you?”

“You requested updates on the refugees and the five lords.”

“Of course. We shall speak on the way to my chambers.”

Caspian shot one last look at Lucy’s portrait before leading his advisor away.

Lucy sighed quietly as she watched the happy couple spin around the dance floor.

Years ago, on a ship a world away, Lucy had been held like that. Her thoughts strayed to Caspian and his near obsidian eyes. She had thought of him often in the years since. She wondered how long it had been for him.

Was he married by now?

A father?

Dead?

No.

Her heart couldn’t bear that last one. She had to believe Caspian was alive and well and happy or she wouldn’t be able to carry on.

She shook the thoughts away and returned to the view in front of her.

Susan was absolutely radiant in her wedding dress. Her smile lit up the room as Tom held her in his arms, leaning down for a peck as the song ended. They held hands as they exited the dance floor to chat with their friends.

Peter had his younger daughter, Jane, balanced on the top of his shoes as he moved them about in a decent facsimile of a waltz. Lucy smiled as she remembered her oldest brother doing the same with her when she was much younger.

Edmund was sitting with his girlfriend Margaret and their cousin Eustace laughing quite merrily.

With the exception of her cousin, Narnia had taken on the golden tint of a fond memory. But a memory none the less. Her siblings had been content to leave it at that. Lucy could not find it in her to do the same. Narnia had always felt more like home than this world. A fractured childhood would do that to you she supposed. After all she had grown up in Narnia first.

She still knew their customs and constellations better than England’s. But she knew it wasn’t just that. Her heart lay in Narnia, or rather with the King of Narnia. Caspian had a way of making Lucy feel seen when others didn’t.

“Enjoying the party, Lu?”

She nodded as she looked to Edmund who had slipped into the seat beside her.

“It’s wonderful. Everyone is having so much fun.”

“Everyone?”

“I’m having fun,” she insisted, knowing Edmund could see right through her.

“Talk to me.”

She looked again to the dance floor, eyes flitting from couple to couple.

“Do you think that I could ever find that here?”

“Love?”

Lucy nodded again.

“What makes you think you won’t?” he pressed, avoiding her question.

“I can’t imagine finding anyone to share my life with like that. There’s so much I couldn’t tell them. I don’t know how you all do it.”

Edmund hummed in response.

“Narnia meant everything to me. It made me who I am, but the only one who needs to know about it for it to be real is me. And I’m lucky enough that I got to share it with you, and Peter, Susan, and Eustace. Margaret doesn’t need to know what made me the man I am. Only that that man is someone she wants to be with.”

Lucy regarded her brother carefully for a moment. He’d clearly put a lot of thought into this and she appreciated it.

“I guess that makes sense. I guess I’m not ready to admit that Narnia is my past. Even though I have to.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“Is that the only reason you think you won’t find love here?”

Lucy knew where he was going with this, and finally she sighed – more an exhale after holding one’s breath.

“I think I loved him,” she whispered, not needing to specify who “him” was.

“Loved?” he clarified.

“Love,” Lucy corrected.

“He loves you too for what it’s worth. I could see it. Clear as the Northern Sky.”

“I don’t think it matters much. We’re worlds apart now. He’s probably married by now. I’m not sure how I managed it, but it seems I’ve left my heart in Narnia.”

Edmund wrapped an arm around her shoulder and tugged her into his side. She leaned her head heavily against his shoulder.

“What has been lost, can be found. We just need to have faith about these things. You taught me that.”

Lucy smiled at the reassurance.

“Thank you, Edmund.”

“Anything for you. Would you like to dance? We can even pretend we’re at Tumnus’,” he offered.

Lucy shook her head, but smiled more genuinely than she had all night.

“I think I’m going to take advantage of the gardens, and get some fresh air.”

“It’s not like there isn’t air inside,” he joked making her roll her eyes.

“I’ll be back soon.”

Edmund nodded and squeezed her once more before letting her go.

“Be safe.”

Lucy slipped through the crowd unnoticed, as usual. After a few minutes walking through the gardens she happened upon the entrance to a hedge maze. Looking back at the lights of the reception, she took a deep breath and hurried into the maze, following the turns at random.

It couldn’t possibly be big enough for her to actually get lost.

Caspian perched on the rail of his balcony, one knee up as his back was pressed against the palace wall twirling Lucy’s dagger in his hand. If anyone entered his chambers they wouldn’t be able to see him unless they stepped outside. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head back against the stone enjoying the cool breeze off the Eastern Sea. He had chosen this room specifically for the view of the water. It had always calmed him, and now it held an even more special place in his heart.

In the morning, he would return to his duties as king and this journey would leave the forefront of his mind to make room for diplomacy and logistics. And if his advisors had their way, finding a queen. But for now, as the wind whipped around him, he could imagine that he was back on the Dawn Treader. And if he listened closely enough, he could hear Lucy’s familiar humming. He allowed his mind to run wild with memories.

When the humming only grew louder, even after shaking himself from the sweet memories, Caspian grew concerned. Alert now for possible danger, he scanned the grounds for the source of the sound.

The beach was clear. As were the cliffs to the north. But as he turned his gaze to the south, a flash of auburn hair in the garden maze caught his eyes. She was deep within the heart of the garden without alerting the guards which was no easy feat.

Fastening his sword belt on, he sheathed Lucy’s dagger which she had gifted him on the shores of Aslan’s country.

“I think you’ll need this more than I will.”

“It shall never leave my side.”

You shall never leave my heart had remained unspoken.

Not wishing to alert the guards, Caspian scaled down the side of the castle, jumping from the lowest window and rolling to his feet.

The wind was carrying the humming to his ears quite clearly, as though it was actively helping him find the intruder. At the edge of the maze he took a deep breath before stepping inside. He allowed himself to be led through the turns by the voice, although he was nearly certain it must be a trap. Surely it was a siren or some spell luring him with his heart’s desire. But still he pursued her.

A few times it seemed they were just on the other side of the hedge from each other, but he would round the corner and find only a dead end.

Finally, he caught a flash of lavender fabric whooshing around the corner and he sped up as well as he could while maintaining his stealth. Lucy’s dagger fit comfortably in his hand. Peeking around the corner to ensure she was coming, he waited until she had passed by before leaping out and grabbing her, the dagger pressed against her throat.

“Who are you? And what are you doing here?”

She froze in his arms.

“Caspian?”

The woman squirmed in his grip enough to see his face and in his surprise he let her.

“It is you. How on Earth did you get here?” she asked.

“Lucy?” he mumbled as he released her and she turned to look at him, giving him his first good look at her.

“Yes, it’s me. I know I look a bit different. But goodness, you haven’t aged a day,”

“Lucy,” he repeated before dropping the dagger and pulling her into his arms, burying his face in her neck.

She held him just as fiercely as if he would disappear if she let go for even an instant.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured. “I thought of you every day.”

“As did I. How long has it been for you?” she asked as she lifted her head to look at him, unwilling to break their embrace any further.

“Six months and thirteen days.”

Lucy huffed out a little laugh.

“Is that all?”

Caspian already knew it had been much longer for her. Years, he guessed, given how much she looked like her portrait.

“How long?”

“Six years. Four months. Eleven days.”

She’d been counting. In spite of knowing that Aslan’s plans for Narnia did not include her.

“Oh, Lucy,” Caspian sighed.

Years. She had thought of him every day for years. The knowledge made his heart beat faster.

“It’s okay. You’re here now. How on Earth are you here?” she asked again.

Caspian glanced upward, just to ensure he hadn’t been transported to her world, but sure enough his stars remained, twinkling down at him.

“Lucy, you’re in Narnia.”

Whipping her head around to gain bearings she didn’t know she’d lost, Lucy’s expression clouded with confusion.

“But how? I was at the wedding. I just stepped out for a few minutes –“ She paused and shook her head with a serene smile. “Things never happen the same twice,” she murmured. “Or four times I suppose. I’m not sure how it’s happened, but I am glad to be home.”

Caspian’s heart both clenched and soared at the word home. But he was still stuck on the earlier revelation.

“You were at a wedding?”

His mind raced as he took in her demure dress and artful curls.

Six years, his mind screamed. Even if she had thought of him, of course she would have found someone else in that time.

“Yes,” she affirmed absent-mindedly. “Of Susan will be so cross I’ve left her wedding.”

Elation.

“Susan’s wedding?”

“Yes.” Lucy’s face dropped. “Oh, I’m sorry, Caspian.”

“So you are not married?” he asked, ignoring the apology.

Lucy’s laughter was a balm to his soul.

“Goodness, no. Not even close. The closest I’ve come to marriage was holding hands with Dennis Macmillian when we were 17. And even that was mainly because I was slipping on the ice. I’ve never even gone for a stroll with a boy.”

Caspian smiled, pulling back just enough to offer her his arm.

“Well then, please, allow me. It would be a shame to waste such a lovely Narnian evening.”

“So it would,” she agreed, looping her arms through his. “Tell me everything I’ve missed,” she insisted as they walked deeper into the maze.

“There’s not that much to tell you. We’ve only just arrived back to Cair Paravel this morning. It took us several months to return everyone to their homes before we could return. Beyond that, I’ve just received reports of peace in Narnia.”

“That’s wonderful, Caspian.”

“I’m sure your time has been far more interesting. Tell me everything.”

“Longer doesn’t always mean more interesting.”

Caspian shot her a look of disbelief.

“I’m telling the truth. After the Dawn Treader we stayed with Eustace until the end of the War. After that, once Susan, Peter, and our parents returned, I went back to school. I learned how to become a nurse.”

“Did you now?”

“Mhmm. Top of my class even. It’s been fascinating to learn, although I still think the healers here have a better bedside manner. And goodness have there been days where I wished for my cordial on the job.”

“It sounds intense.”

“It is. But I love it.”

Her smile confirmed it.

“It suits you,” he agreed.

“Besides all that, not much has changed for me. I spend most of my time working or with my family, though that’s been difficult of late.”

“Difficult? Why?” he asked with a furrowed brow.

“They’ve all become convinced I’m doomed to become an old maid. Well, not everyone I suppose. Mainly my parents and Susan. Peter would prefer it that way, over protective as he is. And Edmund, well he just wants me to be happy.”

Despite her comments, the fondness she had for her siblings still shone through.

“I’m sure they all want you to be happy.”

“I know that. I just wish they wouldn’t keep trying to set me up. I think falling in love should happen naturally.”

She glanced up at Caspian who was watching her closely.

“As do I. So it sounds to me that you’re turning suitors down left and right.”

“Hardly,” she scoffed. “Although I think Susan believes that she’ll have a better chance at marrying me off now that she’s officially taken. They’ll have to settle for the lesser Pevensie sister.”

Caspian narrowed his eyes at the assertion, footsteps coming to a halt as he turned to face her.

“In what way lesser?”

“In every way,” Lucy laughed humorlessly.

“You are Queen Lucy the Valiant. The most beloved Queen Narnia has ever seen,” he reminded her, continuing on before she could argue with him. “You are amazing. You are in no way lesser.”

His words made her smile but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“That may be who I am here. But in my world, I’m just Peter and Susan’s little sister. An afterthought.”

Caspian hated to hear her talk about herself like that.

“Then everyone in your world must be fools. You are valiant and beautiful in every world.”

Lucy found herself unable to hold his intense gaze.

“I’m not beautiful like Susan.”

He lifted her head up with a finger underneath her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Perhaps not. But you’re beautiful like you. And brave. And kind. And loving. And a million other wonderful things.”

“No one’s ever seen me the way you do.”

“It’s an honor to know you this way, Lucy.”

He reached up cradling her cheek before sliding his fingers into her hair.

“I love you.”

It was a relief to finally say it out loud, and her smile was well worth it.

“I love you too, Caspian. I have for a long time.”

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against hers.

“I was so scared I’d never see you again,” she whispered.

“I was too. I was certain that I’d lost my chance. But you’re here now.”

“I am.” She looked around and somehow he knew she was looking for Aslan. “But I still don’t know why.”

“I’m sure Aslan has his reasons.”

“He usually does,” Lucy agreed with a smile. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out in time. For now…”

“For now, I’m just going to be grateful. And enjoy every second of my time with you.”

“I like that plan.”

They walked through the gardens for a time before Caspian escorted her up to the castle.

Sure enough they spent the next few weeks enjoying their time together. In fact the entire kingdom rejoiced at the return of their queen. But with no indication as to why she was there, soon a quiet anxiety crept in.

Neither Lucy nor Caspian were willing to make too many plans when they didn’t know when she would be returning, so instead they focused on ensuring Narnia was well taken care of. Lucy helped Caspian reinstate the High Council so that every type of creature was represented. Caspian watched in awe as the land flourished and now that everyone had a voice they found it even easier to keep peace. In fact, many days it seemed there wasn’t much ruling to do at all. So he spent more time with his people than ever, which he loved.

And he grew to love Lucy more every day. He knew at some point that she would have to leave, to return to her family, but he also knew that he couldn’t bear to be without her. His decision was made, although he was sure that many would consider it selfish.

Which is why a year after she arrived, Caspian led Lucy into the maze he had found her in.

“This is quite lovely. We haven’t done this in a while. What brought this on?” she asked as they walked.

“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. And I have a question for you. And I thought this would be the best place to ask it.”

She tilted her head in question, noting the slight nervousness in his voice.

“What kind of question?”

“An important one.”

They had reached the center of the maze and Caspian led Lucy to sit on the edge of the fountain that contained a stone carving of Aslan. He hoped it would bring them the Great Lion’s blessing.

He took both her hands in his as he sat beside her on the edge of the fountain.

“Lucy, my love, ever since I first met you, you have been a source of strength and someone who I have never failed to believe in. On our first adventure I learned never to overlook you, and I am eternally grateful for learning that lesson. Because it allowed me to see you for who you are on our second adventure. On the Dawn Treader, I fell in love with you. And the day I had to say goodbye to you it felt as if my heart would never be whole again. But by the grace of Aslan, you were returned to me. And I have spent the past year falling more and more in love with you. I’m not sure how long we have left in Narnia, but I don’t want to waste another moment without asking you to be my wife.”

She gasped as Caspian shifted down onto one knee.

“There is no other I would bind myself to. I love you, Lucy Pevensie. And my only wish is to have you by my side for as long as you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

“Of course.”

She tackled Caspian to the ground in a very unladylike move, and kissed him soundly.

“Of course I’ll marry you.”

Caspian’s smile was brilliant as he reached up to cradle her face before pulling her down for another kiss. They reveled in their new engagement alone for a while longer before deciding to return to the castle.

They were nearly out of the maze when they saw a flash of golden fur.

“Aslan?”

Lucy took off after the lion and Caspian was right on her heels. He couldn’t help but wonder at the timing.

They made it back to the fountain and found the lion himself in front of his stone counterpart.

“Aslan, it is you.”

Lucy launched herself at him, burying her face in his fur.

“Hello, dear one.” It came out in a deep rumbling laugh.

Caspian knelt before Aslan, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“Rise, King Caspian.”

“Aslan, what are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to talk to you about your future, dear one.”

Caspian felt unease coil in his stomach.

“My future here or…?”

Lucy took a step back to stand next to Caspian taking his hand in hers.

“That is your decision to make, Lucy. Your heart longed for Narnia when you returned home. You had not been ready to leave it behind. Is that still true?”

She looked to her betrothed and considered her words carefully.

“I could leave Narnia. But I cannot leave my heart. I cannot leave Caspian. Not again.”

Aslan turned his massive head towards the king – looking at him expectantly.

“Caspian?”

The king lifted Lucy’s hand to kiss her knuckles, looking to her as he answered.

“Narnia was the only home I ever knew. But Lucy is the only home I will ever need. I would leave Narnia if she wished me to. If you would allow it,” he added as he finally turned to face Aslan.

“Caspian?” Lucy gasped at him.

Aslan seemed to nod so Caspian continued, looking back to his love.

“Lucy, in the past year we’ve changed Narnia. It is ruled by its people. As it should be. They don’t need a king. But I need you.”

Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, but there was no mistaking her smile.

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” he assured her.

Lucy kissed him for a moment, before turning to Aslan.

“Aslan, is it possible?”

He huffed a laugh and nodded with a shake of his mane.

“Yes, dear one. It is possible. All is as it should be with Narnia thanks to you. But you both must be sure.”

They shared a look before turning back to Aslan.

“We’re sure,” they said in unison.

“But we must not abandon Narnia this time,” Lucy insisted. “I want to say goodbye properly.”

“Of course. You two can stay as long as you like, you have earned that. When you are ready return to this fountain and take the path behind it.”

They both peeked around as the hedge directly behind Aslan’s statue opened up. If she listened closely Lucy could hear the music of the reception.

“You’ll be returned to when you left,” Aslan answered her unspoken question.

Lucy hugged him again and Caspian joined in this time.

“Thank you, Aslan.”

“Thank you, for all you have done for Narnia. It is better for knowing you, dear heart.”

Lucy and Caspian were married after six months on the day before they stepped down and allowed the high council full rule over Narnia. Surprisingly, no one begrudged them their decision. Narnia was happy and they saw that they could rule themselves and be their own heroes.

Two years to the day after Lucy arrived, they said their final goodbyes to the land that had given them so many gifts, the dearest of which was each other.

Hand in hand they entered the maze and followed the turns to the center. With one last look at the great stone lion, they walked through the hedge behind him, coming out into a dark night. Lucy was once again in her lavender bridesmaid dress. Luckily she had had the foresight to have a suit made for Caspian so he would blend in.

“Shall we?” she asked, excited to see her family after so long. Well so long for her. Just moments for them.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t just wait here until after the wedding? How are we going to explain me just turning up?” Caspian asked, daunted by the new world around him.

It was louder than Narnia, and undeniably strange. Lucy cupped his cheek, and kissed him.

“The evening is nearly over. The others will want to see you. You were at the other party and we ran into each other in the garden. You’re an old friend from our time with the professor. And I insisted that you come say hello and congratulate Susan in person.”

“You’ve thought about this,” he teased, considering the plan in his head.

“Of course. It was the first thing I thought when you threatened me with my own dagger,” she reminded him with a mocking look.

“Oh really?” Caspian chuckled, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“Yes. Right after ‘he’s here. Maybe I get to be loved after all’.”

“You are so loved, my valiant Lucy. And I shall love you forever. In every world.”

She smiled up at him, blissfully happy.

“And I you, Caspian.”

They shared one more kiss before walking hand in hand back to reception. Everything was as it should be.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this. I've got loads of Ben Barnes feels lately and this is how I'm dealing with it lol. Thanks for reading!

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Alabasta (Part Two)

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

crocodile is one of my favorite villains in one piece for a number of reasons, and one of them is because he’s such a threat, the first real one faced in the grand line and one of the toughest in all of paradise. the villains from the arcs before this, like wapol or the agents from little garden, could barely even land a hit on luffy in actual combat. so crocodile is introduced here as an absolute force of nature, a complete contrast to recent villains and a very tangible threat. 

it’s an impression he very much lives up to later in the arc by crushing luffy not once but twice, which only makes luffy’s ultimate hard-won triumph feel all the better. luffy closes a huge gap over the course of alabasta in order to be able to beat crocodile, and giving us a sense of just how strong he is from the very start gives luffy clawing his way up to that level a lot more weight. 

the successive reveals of luffy’s family never fail to absolutely delight me, because in any other series they would almost certainly feel contrived, but knowing luffy, it is absolutely unsurprising he just never happened to mention his relatives. nobody asked! luffy’s unique brand of honesty is one of my favorite character quirks, because he’s very straightforward and in fact can’t lie for shit, but his priorities are so completely off the wall that he winds up omitting highly relevant information completely by accident. 

ace’s scene in alabasta really does impress me. oda’s said in an sbs that he knew ace’s fate from his introduction, which i find absolutely unsurprising given the intricacy of his story planning. that means he needed ace’s introduction to make him both likable and memorable enough in the space of just a couple chapters that the audience would be engaged when he became the focus of the story a couple hundred chapters on despite barely appearing at all in the intervening time, and he really succeeded. 

kohza is one of my favorite minor characters in the whole series, and i think he’s a big part of why alabasta’s civil war plotline works so well and feels so real. nobody on either side of the war actually wants to fight, but everyone has been driven to such desperation that they feel they have no other choice in order to save their country; and kohza exemplifies that. he's a good person who loves his country a lot, and who genuinely likes and cares about the royal family and vivi especially, and the only option he can see to save alabasta is terrible, but there’s nothing else he can do. 

it’s just fun for me to think about the fact that if crocodile was literally anything other than a very skilled logia, vivi would have ended the whole entire arc right here. 

i really like civil war storylines when they’re well-done, and i think alabasta is one of the best ones i’ve seen in media. most of it is down to what i mentioned earlier, about how nobody on either side actually wants to fight but feels like they have no choice but to. nobody here is actually in the wrong except for crocodile, and so until crocodile is defeated, nothing can be fixed- which is what luffy, of all people, is the one to realize. 

sanji’s mr. prince gambit is probably my single favorite part of alabasta, and i think one of the reasons i like it so much is because he basically beats crocodile at his own game. crocodile is terrifying in battle, but before anything else he’s a manipulator. he’s always working from the shadows, always deceiving people doing what he wants, and sanji manages to turn the tables on him and do the exact same back to him, twice. 

also sanji looks great in glasses

smoker and tashigi both get kind of unfortunately sidelined after this saga, but they’re both really great characters in alabasta. (tashigi especially; i’ll get to her later.) much like the rebel army, they’re good people trying to do the right thing in the tangled mess of tension and politics and resentment that is alabasta- and when that means working with pirates, they’ll buckle down and do it, despite how much it might contradict their worldviews. 

i love when events align in one piece so that people who don’t particularly like the strawhats wind up working with them for some common goal (as seen most prominently in impel down), and smoker and tashigi in alabasta are the first and still one of the best examples of that. 

the entirety of luffy versus crocodile round one is so well done. we’re a hundred and fifty chapters in, and although luffy has struggled in fights before now and then, we get the sense he hasn’t ever really been pushed to the brink, and he’s certainly never lost.

and then he does, completely and absolutely, without ever even landing a hit on his opponent, and it hits like a punch. 

oda seems to be a fan of characters just barely missing each other- the similar panel of robin and olvia running past each other from robin’s flashback comes to mind.

i’ve always liked that of all the strawhats, it’s usopp who gets the first “luffy is going to be king of the pirates” moment. they’ve all said it by the current chapters in wano (with the sole exception of robin, i believe), but usopp said it first, and that feels significant to me. he’s always been the one who feels the least secure in his place on the crew, but even so, he has so much faith in luffy. 

nami’s fight with miss doublefinger is pretty silly in places and i think it gets frequently (understandably, it must be said) overshadowed by zoro’s fight with mr. 1 directly afterwards, but i really like it nonetheless. it’s nami’s first real solo fight in the whole series, and once she finds her feet she kicks ass, and i really like that. it feels like a very satisfying development for her, to stand up and risk her life in direct combat for vivi’s sake. 

we’re now almost a thousand chapters in and its my firm belief that zoro versus mr. 1 is still one of the best fights in the entire series. i definitely think it’s probably zoro’s best fight- only his match with kaku compares. the narrative build over the course of the fight, from zoro struggling just to match mr. 1 (and getting shredded to pieces in the process) to cutting him down in one final stroke, is incredibly cool and satisfying to watch. it feels like a very tangible step forward for zoro in terms of ability, like a massive obstacle has been surmounted and, as he himself says, he’s now stronger for it. 

its also very cool that this is, i believe, the first appearance of what is probably observation haki, though it isn’t named or recognized as such. i’m always endlessly impressed by all the little moments of internal consistency that oda manages to sprinkle into his story. 

there’s barely any dialogue on these entire two pages, from crocodile dropping vivi to luffy and pell swooping in- the story is briefly told entirely through visuals- and i love that. it gives the impression of a single tense, frozen moment as vivi falls, which is then broken in spectacular fashion when luffy catches her. 

i really, really like the progression that runs through all three of luffy’s fights with crocodile. the gap between them goes from being impossible, with luffy unable to even land a hit and crocodile basically toying with him; to surmountable but still huge, with luffy able to land some hits but still outclassed; to finally putting them on basically even ground. and every inch of that growth on luffy’s part is hard-fought and hard-won and well-deserved. 

crocodile’s confidence in his abilities isn’t misplaced- he genuinely is that powerful. but if there’s anything we know about luffy by now, it’s that he doesn’t ever give up. it’s very fun to watch crocodile’s dismissiveness turn into disbelief turn into rage and frustration when luffy just won’t die. 

luffy is, additionally, pretty clearly a better brawler than crocodile (which makes sense, crocodile is clearly used to devastating long-range attacks with his powers while luffy grew up fighting giant wildlife with his bare hands), which means that by the time of their last fight, where they’re just whaling on each other in the catacombs and crocodile is starting to get sloppy and desperate and lose control, if anything it’s luffy who has the upper hand. 

zoro and sanji’s dynamic is always a favorite of mine, and one of the things i like best about them is how perfectly in sync they always manage to be when it comes to things that actually matter, despite fighting like cats and dogs pretty much every other time. i’ll never understand people who think they genuinely aren’t friends. 

tashigi is really good in alabasta, okay. she essentially has her own entire character growth arc. she goes from her stance in loguetown, where she isn’t even tolerant of (fully legal!) bounty hunters, to here, where she’s forced to confront that the world isn’t nearly as black and white as she’s always believed it to be, that sometimes pirates are good and allies of the government are bad, and ultimately makes the right choice to help the strawhats even though it clearly pains and frustrates her that she can’t do anything more herself. 

i’ll be forever mad that her only really significant appearance after this in punk hazard didn’t really live up to what her character deserved. 

i really like how the countdown sequence is done. the tension is ratcheting up and up and up as the clock ticks down in the final seconds, panels cutting all over the city to show all the different characters, everyone who’s caught up in this conflict and everyone who’ll die if the cannon fires-

and then the clock hits zero, and we get this panel that’s just... quiet, after all the madness, as we see how vivi stopped the detonation. i think oda is very good at setting up his pages so they have a flow to them, so no matter how quickly you actually read sometimes things feel like they’re going very fast and all happening at once and then it slows down and gives the reader a chance to breathe, if only to speed up again later. i think oda is really good at pacing in general, really, both on a micro level like this and on a larger scale. 

luffy’s greatest strength isn’t really his strength. he’s strong, absolutely, but that’s not really why he wins the fights he shouldn’t win. he wins because he just doesn’t fucking stay down. his fight with katakuri is probably the best example of this, because katakuri has him beat in pretty much every category except sheer endurance, and there as here, it’s that endurance that winds up getting luffy the win in the end. 

i do love that it’s the rain that ends the war. not the explosion and pell’s sacrifice, not vivi’s pleading, not even luffy kicking crocodile into the stratosphere, but the rain, the thing alabasta’s been missing for too long, the thing crocodile stole, the only thing all these people are fighting over. 

it’s crocodile’s symbolic defeat- at the same moment his power is broken by luffy, the stranglehold of dehydration he’s been using to foment war and rebellion is all at once gone, and he’s left with nothing at all, and alabasta can finally find peace and start to heal again. 

i always love the little moments that show, usually without words, just how much the strawhats love each other, and all of them unanimously waiting until vivi is out of sight to collapse so that she won’t worry, won’t see how ragged they ran themselves for their sake, is definitely one of them. 

i adore vivi’s sendoff, because while its sad she has to go, the certainty that someday they’ll meet again and that even if not they’ll always be crew manages to make this scene endlessly hopeful instead (which, i think, is also a good summary of one piece’s tone as a whole, at least in its more serious moments). luffy never says goodbye, after all, and nobody ever really leaves the strawhat pirates. 

i’m really looking forward to vivi’s re-entry to the story. i really, really want to see her reunion with the strawhats. 

hey look, it’s the panel my profile picture is from! 

the mystery surrounding robin and her past is built up in little ways long before enies lobby, from her harsh reaction when confronted with by tashigi to her aversion to being called by her given name to this flashback, of her talking to cobra about her dream. of them, the latter is my favorite, because i think it’s probably the most sincere she is until enies lobby- which makes sense, given she thinks she’s about to die. 

like many things about robin in alabasta, this gets cast in a new light by her backstory. if she dies here, so too does the entire legacy of ohara- but she’s so beaten down and hopeless that she really doesn’t see any light ahead to strive for. there’s no hope left, for her, and the whole world against her. 

and then there’s luffy, who creates hope everywhere he goes, who makes her live anyways. 

this is a hell of a spread to hook us very effectively right into the sky island saga. it’s a perfect reminder of just how much we still don’t know about all the endless mysteries of the grand line, and just how many adventures are still yet to be had.

[faetxlity]

Here’s A Health To The Company

@save-a-witcher-bingo  Prompt: At Sea Characters: Witcher Gerd, Togeir the Red, Jerome Moreau

 Torgeir was looking up at the ruins of what had once been his home. What      was     his home.      Is.    The flames were spreading quickly, Fort Tuirseach was all but destroyed. Like the Jarl who had filled its halls with laughter and mead- ruined.

 At his side, stained in blood, sat the Witcher Gerd. His jaw was tight, his hands were fisted in the fabric of his own filthy shirt, but his eyes were clear. He did not watch the ruin of his adopted home, rather he watched the blood seep from the bandages that he had wrapped around Torgeir’s leg. Already they were in need of changing but they had no fabric with which to do so, his original job had been so hasty... Unless they ripped apart the sails there was nothing to be done. But to do such a thing as that was a death warrant.

 The little ship they had taken was not meant to go much further than around the cape but they had set out for sea with no choice. They had with them five men and a woman, of whom only two were well enough to take up oar, not counting the Witcher who had rowed them the first half hour from shore nearly on his own with eyes blacker than coal.

 The Witcher rested now though, so much as he could with his life burning on the shore.

 “We will die out here.” The Jarl said, voice was devoid of emotion. Gerd looked to his friend’s face then, to his lover’s eyes. The anger, the      grief    , all the emotions he had expected were nowhere to be found.

 “No.” Gerd replied, “we will live. We will see them pay for this and you      will     see it rebuilt.” He received no answer, no acknowledgement as the jarl’s hand did not return the gentle pressure that he put upon it. Gerd looked at the island they were sailing from, the land they may never get to set foot on again.

 They would live; he would accept no other outcome.

 ~seven days~

 For seven days the ship rocked, sailing for some imagined safe haven on the mainland but without hope or half a crew. One man had succumbed to his wounds on the first dawn and another had followed two evenings after. Torgeir had said nary a word since his ominous assertion of their fate, his leg had steadily grown worse over the days and it left him with little ability to do more than lay down and sleep. When awake he stared across the sea as if expecting death to appear to him with an outstretched hand.

 Gerd had taken over easily enough, tucked Torgeir into the captain's quarters and spent both days and nights looking for either a miracle or their end.

 On the seventh day it came to them in the form of a ship thrice their size. No man aboard their own was fit to fight but still Gerd drew his steel and braced himself. The dark hull of the incoming vessel felt like an omen and he was flanked by Andrea and Koll, the only two who remained in good health- though weak from hunger they would die on their feet. Of that they were sure.

 A figure leaned over the edge of the ship above, their back was to the sun and so Gerd could not discern any features.           “Are you in need of assistance?” The voice was, clearly, not Nilfgardian and that alone was enough for the man on Gerd’s left to sag. Andrea looked to the Witcher, her eyes wide and hopeful.

     Please, let this be a mercy.  

 “Yes!” He called up. “We are!”

 The ship called itself a merchant’s vessel though a pirate’s den is what it looked. They had been pulled aboard with canvas and rope, the men of the ship quick to provide them with fresh water and food while their medic checked each refugee for wounds. If the crew were upset to have a witcher in their midst they did not voice it. Their captain was nowhere to be seen.

 “Oh dear.” The medic said, in his hands were the bandages that Gerd had re-applied to Torgeir’s leg on the third day of their voyage, made from scraps of a shirt found in the captain’s chest.. The odor once they were removed turned even the Witcher’s stomach. “I need a knife.” Gerd tensed but produced his own blade, edging closer to see what was going on.

 Torgeir was sweating, his skin deathly pale and feverish as he had been for the last day. In that moment though the jarl’s eyes were wide open- “Where’s Gerd?” It was slow and slurred but clear enough.

 “I’m here, Torgeir.” He sank to his knees and took one scarred hand in his own. With his other hand he brushed the tangled mess of the jarl’s hair back from his forehead. The infection was nasty, but it hadn’t spread far. He smiled though surely it was more of a grimace, “Just here.” It took all his strength not to snatch the medic by his throat when the knife began to cut away flesh. It took nothing at all to blame himself for the state of the wound. He was a witcher, he should have known better.

     You had nothing on hand to help. You did what you could.    He reminded himself. It could have been much worse, the beam that had splintered and slashed the jarl’s thigh had nearly taken his head instead.

 Green eyes rolled back and the man’s labored breathing evened.          “Witcher?” The medic hedged, “I’ve patched what I can but he will need someone to keep an eye on the wound. We’re still some ways away from the next port but we’ll find a proper healer there.”

 “I’ll look after him. Thank you…” he pushed himself to his feet. “Where is your captain?” The men pointed him across the deck to where a slight man was coiling rope, seemingly unconcerned with the new arrivals. He was dressed in a loose fitting shirt and a pair of garish calico pants.

 “Cap’n.”

 The supposed captain turned and Gerd’s first impression of the man was ‘pretty’. He had light brown hair and blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he smiled. He was handsome in a plain sort of way, surely a charmer in any tavern he wished. The bear’s second impression was      Witcher.    Which couldn’t have been right.

 There was no such thing as a blue eyed Witcher.

 “Jerome Moreau.” The man-maybe witcher introduced himself as he passed the rope off to a deckhand. At the silence he continued, “Maybe we should speak somewhere private.”  Gerd followed him across deck, listening to the slow beat of his heart. The captain’s quarters were decently large and Gerd had the ability to put space between himself and ‘Jerome’ once the door was closed and the lantern lit.

 “As I said, I’m Jerome School of the Griffin.”

 He wasn’t sure       why     he snapped. Perhaps it was the time at sea, trying to hold together men on the brink of death while the only one who he could have turned to for help laid on a cot in pain. Perhaps it was how long it had been since he’d seen another of his kind. Perhaps he simply needed to hit something to keep his meager sanity. Perhaps, it was because there were no witchers with blue eyes.

 It was a laughably short fight. An      embarrassingly    short fight that Arnaghaf himself would have thrown Gerd from the highest mountain peak should he have witnessed it in his youth. Seven days at sea with limited water and only small bites of food to stop the hunger pains had done him no favors: against a man he would have been fine, perhaps even against two or three by sheer luck of size. But against a witcher? He hadn’t stood a chance. The Griffin-turned-pirate ducked his blow and tripped him backwards, before he could hit the floor a strong hand pushed against his chest and slammed him against the wall, pinned him there on the floor while the stranger watched him with those      blue    eyes. Jerome bared his teeth and Gerd found himself far too close to fangs unlike any he’d seen before, a feral snarl tore from the other’s chest like a beast. It was a sound that the bear could do without hearing ever again. But, just as quickly as the anger came, it left and the Griffin spoke softly,

 “I am not your enemy. Do not bring such strife onto my ship or I will not hesitate to feed you to the first kraken that threatens us. You and your men have been through a lot; I can see that.” Jerome shifted back on his heels and eased the pressure on Gerd’s chest. “If I cared about having another Witcher on board I would have left you to die. We Griffins are not quite as fickle as your lot.” he smiled as if sharing a joke. “Well, you are here, so tell me your name.”

 “Gerd.”

 “And your friend is Torgeir the Red then.” The Griffin moved away so that they were both sitting on the floor, Jerome with crossed legs and Gerd with legs akimbo from his fall. “Don’t worry, your safety on this ship is assured so long as I’m alive. We’ll reach a port in a week’s time, you’re welcome to go ashore and we won’t expect any payment for our help; though we’ll discuss other options later. For now, I think it best if you have a meal and rest. You can answer my questions once things have settled.” It was a very one sided conversation but Gerd had both too many questions to begin with and not near enough energy to ask them. If most of them were about the captain himself? Well,

 He was a strange thing, even for a witcher.

 Gerd was given a water skin for himself and Torgeir and the captain put them in a private room that was used to store trade cargo. It was empty for the next weeks, as had been explained to him by a young lad, and therefore made for a good place to rest. An extra cot had been dragged within. Torgeir’s fever broke after some hours and in the darkness Gerd watched him crawl from his heavy slumber. He hadn’t allowed him to get a word out before pressing the water skin to his lips.

 “Drink.” He urged and the skin was nearly empty by the time Torgeir pushed his hand away.

 “Where are we?” The room was black as pitch once the sun went down.          “A ship came through to help us. We’re a week from port. Your leg… we’ll get you medicine for it soon.”          “What?” Torgeir asked.          “Fucking thing got infected. They’ve got a decent healer on board though. Stitched it up fairly nice.”

 “Fucking great-” the red head pushed himself up and Gerd was quick to move closer and support him. “The others?”          “We lost Ragnar and Beorn. The others are having dinner and resting. No sign of Nilfgaard chasing us so far.” With his lover awake and clear eyed Gerd felt the weight of the last week and a half hit him in full force. His eyes drooped and he began to list to the side like a sinking ship.

 Torgeir shifted and pressed their shoulders together more firmly. “Come on, y’ bastard. Lay down.”          “Can’t.”          “You said we’re as safe as we can get. When’s the last time you slept?” Torgeir’s hand squeezed his thigh, kitten weak compared to what it should have been. When Gerd didn’t have an answer for him the jarl sighed. “Tha’s what I thought.” Gerd let himself be poked and prodded until he was reclined against the hull of the ship with rags and old feed bags piled behind him as a comfort. One leg stretched out in front of his while the other hung over the side of the cot, Torgeir laid between them. It was a familiar enough position even if the environment around them was not.  He had planned to meditate again, afraid that if he slept then he would not wake for quite some time,  but the moment that he had Torgeir’s weight against his chest his eyes closed and sleep dragged him under.

 He woke when light spilled across his face, feeling only half as rested as he should have and mortified that he hadn’t been able to fight off the slumber.

 Jerome was standing in the doorway, a white shirt half open across his chest and a look on his face that was far too soft. “Your crew demanded that I bring you something to break fast with. Andrea, I believe? She said that if you didn’t take it, I should send her in here in my place.” Again, that smile graced his lips. “I can leave it here and let you sleep.” It sounded good, to be able to close his eyes once more and sink into slumber. Perhaps to wake only when they were docked. He extended a hand instead.

 “I’ll take it.” They were hunted men for all he knew. They would need their strength.

 “Good,” as witchers they did not need to light an oil lantern and Jerome closed the door behind himself, some sunlight crept in from above. “While none here should voice any judgement, I would advise you to keep any overtly forward displays within this room or in my study should you need it. My men are good but they have loose lips in port, drunkards are not half as lovely.”

 Gerd was handed bread and a bowl of thin porridge. It was meager for a man his size and even more so for two. But, they were a week from port and The Hawksea, as the Griffin’s ship was called, had not been prepared for five more bodies on board. Particularly not those of warriors and witchers.

 “Thank you.” The words were rough.

 “Don’t mention it. I’ll be putting you to work before long. Lots of things to do here that could use a witcher’s strength.” Jerome sat on a crate, one leg pulled up to his chest with his arm draped over it. “Can’t have any freeloading going on, might start talk of mutiny.” His eyes crinkled at the edges as if he’d spent a lifetime laughing rather than fighting monsters. Maybe he had, with a face like that.

 “I thought you Griffins were supposed to be chivalrous bastards.” Gerd grunted.

 “Chivalrous? Yes. Bastard? Most certainly.” Those fangs were flashed at him again. “I was under the impression you bears were the loner sorts.”

 “We are.” Gerd didn’t miss the way Jerome’s eyes lingered on the redhead asleep on his chest. Caught even longer on the scarred arm wrapped around the human like a shield.

 The Griffin hummed, “I see.”

 The witcher left them alone with their breakfast and somewhere above them a man began to sing.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #172

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making Rider of Resistance, a.k.a. a good reason as to why Type Moon should just... stop. Just stop, please, this is an intervention. As usual, expect spoilers below the cut, which is where you can find his build breakdown. Otherwise, check out his character sheet over here!

Next up: She’s a lumberjack, and she’s okay!

Christopher Columbus is a Gloom Stalker Ranger for a noble phantasm that lets him seek out whatever he desires as well as the smash and grab tactics the conquistadors are known for. He’s also a Swashbuckler Rogue to turn him into a high-seas swindler.

Race and Background

Cumulonimbus is a Human, but I want a feat so he’s a variant human instead. This gives him +1 Dexterity and Constitution, proficiency in Deception, and the Silver Tongued feat from unearthed arcana.This bumps your Charisma score up by 1, and you double your proficiency bonus when it comes to deception checks. You can also replace one of your weapon attacks with a contested skill check: your deception vs. their insight. If you succeed, you can move without provoking attacks from them, and your attacks have advantage against them until the end of your next turn. If you fail, they’re sick of your shit for an hour, and can’t be deceived in this way.

Unsurprisingly, Columbus is a Sailor, which gives him proficiency with Athletics and Persuasion. We’re changing things up a bit here, but you’ll need that silver tongue on longer voyages.

Ability Scores

Columbo’s highest stat is his Charisma; he’s a very clever leader, and an even more clever liar. Second is Wisdom, it’s like he can search things out using magic or something. If you’re going to survive a long ship voyage, your Constitution has to be solid as well. For your sealegs we’ll make your Dexterity better than average. That also helps with you running into fights wearing regular clothes. Your Strength isn’t that great, but we’re dumping Intelligence. We just don’t need it.

Class Levels

1. Ranger 1: Starting off as a ranger is cool, it gives you proficiency with Strength and Dexterity saves, as well as three ranger skills; Investigation for up close “treasure hunting”, and Perception to spot land just that little bit faster. You should also grab Stealth proficiency, it’ll make surviving in Chaldea a lot easier.

You would have gotten more skills by starting as a rogue, but starting here gives you extra health as well as Favored Enemies. Grab the two kinds of humanoids most akin to natives in your setting for advantage on survival and intelligence checks about them.

You’re also a Deft Explorer, which at level 1 makes you Canny with Deception checks, doubling your proficiency bonus. Take a shot every time I double your deception proficiency. You’ll take 3 shots, but that’s exponential, so it adds up quick. It’s still level 1, and you’ve got a +11 to deception, that’s pretty damn good.

2. Ranger 2: Second level rangers can get the Mariner fighting style, adding 1 to your AC while out of heavy armor, and giving you a swimming speed so getting knocked overboard isn’t a game over.

You can also cast Spells now using your Wisdom to cast them. Hunter’s Mark is a gimme since we’re not taking Favored Foe, but we’re also dipping into a third Unearthed Arcana for Wild Cunning, a ritual spell that gives you one of several effects. There’s a lot, but they mostly boil down to finding stuff important to survival more easily.

3. Ranger 3: As a Gloom Stalker ranger, you know the benefits of getting the drop on people better than anyone. Your Dread Ambusher takes the chillage out of your pillage by adding your wisdom modifier to your initiative rolls. Also on your first turn you get an extra 10′ of movement, you get an extra weapon attack, and that extra attack deals more damage. The conquistadors weren’t called the conquistadors because they were bad at conquisting.

You also get Umbral Sight thanks to all those nights of watching for the shore, making your dumb human eyes less dumb thanks to Darkvision. On top of seeing in the dark, you also count as invisible to any other creatures that rely on darkvision while in the shadows. Chris doesn’t have his own evade to be fair, but honestly with all the races having darkvision humans get screwed over so much that I’m willing to overlook it this time.

For this level’s spells, Hail of Thorns will give you some light weapons fire from your trusty ship. You also get Disguise Self for free from being a gloom stalker. It’s not in character, but again it’s free, and god knows you’d put it to good use.

4. Ranger 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to grab the Piercer feat, rounding up your dexterity for a bigger modifier and the ability to re-roll one die of piercing damage per turn. Also, your piercing crits deal an extra die of damage when they hit now!

5. Ranger 5: Fifth level rangers get an Extra Attack each attack action. You can still only use a crossbow once per turn, but you’ve got a sword, I’m not worried.

You also get second level spells! Locate Object is what we’re here for, but you also learn Rope Trick for free. Camping equipment was nice, but it’s time we set out for real treasure.

6. Rogue 1: Bouncing over to rogue gives you proficiency with Sleight of Hand, so you can finally get those darn eggs to stand straight. I don’t know why they made a Portuguese man obsessed with a Chinese myth, but whatever.

You also get Expertise in two skills, Perception will help you spot land faster, and Deception is basically just a meme at this point. Both of them get their proficiency bonus doubled. If you really wanted a crazy modifier out the gate you could’ve done this at second level for a +19 to deception, but instead you get it here for a +27. At this point you could totally lead someone on for the entirety of a pseudosingularity and not break a sweat! Not that you would, obviously.

You can also Sneak Attack with ranged/finesse weapons (hey, look at your arsenal, what a coincidence) to deal an extra 1d6 damage to creatures that are next to allies or that you have advantage over. As the men of Agartha could say, you don’t fight fair.

Also: Thieves’ Cant. It’s a language.

7. Rogue 2: Second level rogues get Cunning Action, so now you can dash, disengage, or hide as an action. You’re always moving forward. And sometimes, “forward” means “as far away from the people you’ve conned as possible”.

8. Rogue 3: Is making a sailor a Swashbuckler stereotypical? Probably. Either way your Fancy Footwork means you can ignore attacks of opportunity from creatures you’ve made a melee attack against, and your Rakish Audacity adds your charisma modifier to your initiative rolls. So now your initiative can be added to your growing list of character traits with silly modifiers thanks to its +8. Also, you can sneak attack against creatures when you’re dueling them.

Also also, your sneak attack is 2d6 now.

9. Rogue 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity for more accurate attacks and less accurate attacks against you.

10. Rogue 5: Use your Uncanny Dodge to get those sea legs working, dodging well enough as a reaction to avoid half the damage from an attack. And your attacks are scarier now, thanks to a 3d6 sneak attack!

11. Rogue 6: Use this round of Expertise to double up on Persuasion to figure how where people keep their valuables and Sleight of Hand to slip them into your pockets while no one’s looking.

12. Rogue 7: Admittedly, Chrissy Boy doesn’t have an evade skill, but he does get Evasion anyway, making his failed dexterity saves deal half damage and successes deal 0. I mean his guts arguably does the same thing at low health, but now we’re quibbling.

Also, 4d6 on sneak attack.

13. Rogue 8: We’ll go back to ranger soon, but first grab another ASI to bump up your Wisdom, speeding up your initiative and making your spells a bit stronger.

14. Ranger 6: It’s been a while, huh? You get another two humanoids to add to your Favored Enemies so you can terrorize a wider swath of natives, as well as Roving from the Deft Explorer goodiebag to speed yourself up and swim no matter what you’re wearing.

15. Ranger 7: Seventh level Gloom Stalkers have an Iron Mind, helping you keep your head on straight even during long voyages. Or against wisdom saves. Honestly the latter’s way more common, let’s go with wisdom saves. You have proficiency now, is what I’m saying.

We’ve also been seriously neglecting your magical damage, so pick up Magic Weapon so you aren’t mostly useless against a demon.

16. Ranger 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Dexterity one more time for better guns and AC. You can also use Martial Versatility to swap out your Mariner fighting style since it overlaps with roving, but I like it where it is. To be fair you could also make Columbus a Triton barbarian, but then he wouldn’t be Columbus.

You also learn Land’s Stride, which lets you ignore nonmagical difficult terrain, and you have advantage against magical difficult terrain like the one caused by Entangle.

17. Ranger 9: Ninth level rangers get third level spells like Conjure Barrage, which lets you conjure... a barrage. Like Hail of Thorns, this is basically your cannons firing off in the background. You also learn Fear for free. That smile is pretty creepy, after all.

18. Rogue 9: Ninth level swashbucklers get another feature, Panache, letting you make a persuasion check against a creature’s insight as an action. If they’re friendly, they become charmed. If they’re unfriendly, they have disadvantage on other creatures, and can’t make opportunity attacks against other creatures.

Personally I like Silver Tongued’s version better for combat, but the added utility is nice. Also, 5d6 sneak attack. That’s important.

19. Rogue 10: Grab the Tough feat with your last ASI for an extra 38 HP now and two more at level 20. You’ve survived at sea for over a month without getting mutinied, and you’ve got guts. Literally.

20. Rogue 11: Eleventh level rogues get 6d6 sneak attack as well as Reliable Talent, meaning you can’t roll lower than a 10 when using skills you’re proficient with. This means you’re guaranteed to roll at least a 16 on Athletics, a 25 on Persuasion, and a 61 on Deception.

Pros:

You are really good at deception. Like, ridiculously good. Like, literally can’t fail good. A minimum roll of over 60, in a game where DC 30 “nearly impossible”, is dumb. Especially since you can weaponize that check thanks to your UA feat.

Speaking of, if you’re willing to only make 1.5 attacks a turn instead of 2, you’ve basically got guaranteed advantage thanks to that feat.  That’s really useful when it comes to setting up your sneak attacks.

You’re also pretty tanky, with almost 200 HP and most of the rogue’s abilities to avoid damage. You don’t have your own healing, but I’m sure you can talk Medea into helping out.

Cons:

Your casting modifier is only a +3, so your spells aren’t as strong as they could be. Most of them don’t use your modifier at all, but expect your cannons to be a bit lackluster.

You will never need to roll a 61 on deception. You could have used that Canny on another skill to make two skills busted, but when you gotta flex you gotta flex.

You are playing Christopher Columbus.

[redshirtgal]

Look at that deadly serious face. Would you believe there are two amusing stories involving this gentleman? One from a scene involving his character, the other involving the actor behind the scenes.

The idea to bring in a doctor specifically trained in Vulcan medicine was a good one. But we were not introduced to Dr. M’Benga until halfway through the second season in an episode titled “A Private Little War.” It is because of his expertise that we know all those bizarre life scan readings are merely a sign that Spock is concentrating his efforts on healing the severe gunshot wound he had received on the planet.

Up until this point, we have only seen the stern, serious side of M’Benga. But we find in this scene that he has a wicked sense of humor (and an excellent sense of observation). He informs Nurse Chapel that Spock has been conscious enough the entire time and most likely even realized Christine had been holding his hand earlier. And then you see this little grin as poor Nurse Chapel looks mortified and more than a little miffed.

There is one other scene that is not exactly amusing in itself, but has an side story that is. This is the scene where Dr. M’Benga gives Christine explicit instructions about what to do if Spock shows any signs of consciousness.  But when the time comes and Spock commands her to hit him as hard as she can, Christine just can’t do more than a weak slap. Then Scotty enters and when he sees what is happening, pulls her away. It’s up to Dr. M’Benga to bring Spock back to full consciousness.

Which he proceeds to do by pulling his arm back... and delivering a wallop of a slap that even Scotty would be proud of.

And which Spock calmly deems quite sufficient. But Leonard Nimoy was actually pretty irate just after the slap. The filming of this episode was already behind. While the crew set up for this scene, Leonard Nimoy pulled the actor Booker Bradshaw aside and told him he didn’t want to have to reshoot the scene (because he had a paid appearance scheduled that evening). So according to Bradshaw, Nimoy told him no stage slap - to give it everything he had. So... when the time came, Booker Bradshaw wound up and delivered a slap so hard, it knocked Leonard off his feet. And the Vulcan ears off Leonard. Which sent the stage crew and everyone else on the set into peals of laughter but Nimoy did not see the humor at all. Bradshaw said to his dismay, the star was quite angry and made it clear that this time, he better make it a stage slap.

We see him one more time in “That Which Survives” when he is asked to find the reason Ensign Wyatt died. Dr. M’Benga replies that Dr. Sanchez (in the background)  is already performing the autopsy and promises to report the results to Mr. Spock as soon as he knows them.

Later, Dr. M’Benga’s expression demonstrates his exasperation at not being able to give Mr. Spock an explanation for Wyatt’s cause of death, which Dr. Sanchez had established as cellular disruption. And that’s the last time we see Dr. M’Benga.   Memory Alpha seems to think that Dr. M’Benga was meant to be there from the start and that M’Boya was simply a misspelling of his name in that first draft.  Yet according David Tilotta in an article on StarTrek.com,  Dr. M’Benga was not added to the cast of “That Which Survives” until a few days before filming. In the very beginning, the doctor’s name was given as M’Boya. Then as the script revisions progressed, the character of Dr. M’Boya was dropped and his lines given to Nurse Christine Chapel.. But  Marc Cushman’s These Are the Voyages: Season Two  backs up what David Tillota wrote, saying that one of the researchers from Kellam de Forest suggested to Fred Freiberger that the name should be changed to M’Benga on September 13th. However, he makes no mention of the previous change of M’Boya to Nurse Chapel doing the autopsy. Still, it does seem likely someone would have realized there was no need to create a new doctor when Dr. M’Benga had already been established as highly regarded by his CMO.  Story Editor Arthur Singer turned in a final draft on September 20th and page revisions were added on the 21st. Once Fred Freiberger made a few more changes and created the revised final draft dated September 24th and the page revisions were inserted the next day. Just in time for the first day of production which again backs up David Tilotta’s assertion that Dr. M’Benga was close to a last minute addition/revision. 

Dr. M’Benga was played by Booker T. Bradshaw of Richmond, Virginia. Bradshaw’s background is quite impressive. After working at his father’s life insurance company, Booker decided this was not the life for him and entered Harvard University. During his junior year he appeared on the Ted Mack Amateur Hour as a folk singer. Not only did he win three times, but he made it to the finals at Madison Square Garden.  Booker did return to graduate from Harvard in 1962 with the intention of becoming a lawyer. Fate intervened in the form of a Fellowship at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts in London but not before he had performed at Carnegie Hall. Bradshaw did receive an honors certificate for his time at the Academy of Dramatic Arts which he completed by touring England with his Academy students as part of a Shakespeare repertory theater.   *photo credit: http://quod.lib.umich.edu/b/bhl/x-hs8414/hs8414

After finishing the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, you would think Booker would head straight into the acting world, wouldn’t you? Oh, he had done some stage plays in Harvard and a few other venues, but another opportunity arose. Bradshaw’s connection in the music world lead him to working for Motown Records in Detroit as their international manager. He specifically arranged the European tours of both the Supremes and the Temptations.  According to several stories he could speak anywhere from three to nine languages, depending on the source. Above is a photo of the Supremes as they were about to start their 1965 European tour in London. Not only did Bradshaw serve as their manager but he also did an interview with them that was reprinted here -  https://motownjunkies.co.uk/2013/03/02/589

Around 1967, Booker Bradshaw came back to the United States to resume his acting career and joined a  repertory theater in Rochester, Michigan run by one of his mentors, John Fernald. Fernald was formerly Head of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. Bradshaw even wrote the lyrics and music for a play produced there titled And People All Around, which was based on the murders of three civil rights workers in Mississippi. He also appeared in several plays at the Ebony Showcase Theater, including Day of Absence and Happy Endings in 1967. One of his co-stars in both plays was Isabel Sanford. Some of you may remember her as Louise Jefferson in The Jeffersons, which ran from 1975-1985. The Ebony Showcase Theater was the first black theater created especially for black audiences in Los Angeles.  Above - Booker Bradshaw, Juanita Moore and Isabel Sanford (Louise Jefferson) in Happy Endings.  Photo credit - https://filmismemory.wordpress.com/2015/12/29/the-ebony-showcase-theater/

Booker Bradshaw went on to have a very full and successful career in television and film, both as an actor and as a writer. He landed parts on a number of television shows, including several episodes of Tarzan, the Mod Squad, and The F.B.I. In fact, as this newspaper clipping shows (which was actually a press release that appeared in many newspapers across the U.S.), it was thought his role as Special Agent Harry Dane might  be a semi-regular one. However, he is only credited with appearing in two episodes.  *clipping from p. 35 of The Jackson Sun (Jackson TN), November 7, 1969. 

Bradshaw’s movie appearances were fewer, but included two that attained some notice at the time they were released. Above is a publicity photo from The Strawberry Statement (1970) which was loosely based on the Columbia University protests of 1968. He played the character Lucas who is seen on the far right. Fellow Star Trek actress Kim Darby was the female lead named Linda. 

But Booker Bradshaw’s biggest role probably was that of politician Howard Brunswick in Coffy (1973). He was the boyfriend of the title character played by Pam Grier. She played the title character, a nurse who is out to get revenge on the drug dealers who were responsible for the death of her sister. Being a folk singer/media mogul/ theater actor/TV & film actor was evidently not enough. Bradshaw also became a quite accomplished television writer. Between 1973-1976 he and David P. Lewis together wrote scripts for shows like Columbo, Planet of the Apes, and McMillan and Wife. Bradshaw went on to do scripts for Different Strokes, Gimme A Break, and four episodes of The Richard Pryor Show. During the 80s he became a voice actor. Sadly, his impressive career came to an end when he died suddenly of a heart attack in 2003.

[thereadingchallengechallenge]

Review: The Mermaid, The Witch and the Sea by Maggie Tokuda-Hall Rating: 5/5

"Two souls fight For love, to be True love’s might To save the Sea."

On a fateful voyage aboard the pirate ship, the Dove, three souls find themselves thrust together in a way that will change their lives forever. Flora has never minded casting themselves off as a boy to stay safe but when they are charged with guarding Lady Evelyn Hasegawa, it becomes far more challenging as feelings they didn't know they had burst to the forefront. With the help of fellow pirate, Rake, Flora and Evelyn escape the Dove but this ship has a way of holding onto people and leaving will not be so simple.

I love three things: mermaids, witches and the sea. Add to that some amazing diversity in a superb fantasy setting and I'm guaranteed to love it even more. Maggie Tokuda-Hall's debut YA fantasy novel is a thrilling, fraught journey not only to safety but to self-awareness. While I didn't love every page, I definitely loved enough to add this author to my auto-buy list.

The world Tokuda-Hall has composed is rich with life and diversity. I loved the Japanese influences in the Empire that Evelyn comes from and the subtle African notes in Tustwe, where Flora and Alfie were born. I'm pretty sure there wasn't a single white character in this novel but there sure were a lot of queer ones.

The queer romance was what attracted me to this novel and I was so excited to watch Flora and Evelyn to fall in love. What I was not expecting was the gorgeous exploration of gender we get with Flora - who also goes by Florian throughout the novel. Flora doesn't mind being considered a boy or a girl or either and it was so lovely to see that bigender rep on-page. It doesn't matter how they represent, Evelyn loves them either way, and the fact that none of this was questioned by the other characters was fantastic.

There's loads of queerness in the supporting characters too. Keiko, Evelyn's lady-in-waiting at the start of the book who is gay. The Pirate Supreme, the most notorious pirate in The Sea, who is nonbinary. And Xenobia, a turbulent witch we meet partway through the novel, had a female lover in her youth.

I did struggle a bit with the structure of the novel. It's split into three very distinct parts that feel more like episodes than an ongoing, flowing story. A lot of crucial stuff happens in the middle section too but I found it really hard to absorb what was happening after being yanked from one location to the other. The first third was definitely the strongest part of the novel but I loved the ending so much that I'm not going to let it affect my star-rating.

If you love a good old-fashioned adventure story but want more diversity, look no further. The Mermaid, The Witch and the Sea will surely have something to tickle your fancy.

Warnings: Violence, torture, some homophobia and misogyny.

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #474

Top Ten Characters Who Came Back from the Dead

I am stunned – stunned! – that I’ve not done this one before. I mean, come on! It’s right there.

So there’s obviously a thematic resonance going on here. This weekend – the weekend you’re meant to be reading this – is famous where I come from because of a story where someone came back from the dead. Unlike other holidays – Christmas, Halloween, the release of a Star War – I’ve actually been a little slow off the mark in making lists that celebrate Easter. I’ve done eggs and bunnies, but incredibly I’ve never done resurrections, which really is the day’s whole deal. I mean, if you get down to brass tacks, it’s kinda the big selling point of the entire religion really. I hesitate to say “USP” because, well, it’s been done elsewhere, but it’s still supposed to be one of the big Christian takeaways (there’s definitely a chain of Christian takeaways in the States, isn’t there?).

Anyway, resurrection. It’s actually more common than you might think. Certainly in terms of comics there are probably more characters who’ve “died and come back” than have never “died” at all. But! And this is where I get pernickety. Most characters who “die” don’t actually die. Take Batman for instance: he’s shot in the face by Darkseid, and then Superman ups and finds his charred corpse, but – shocker! – he’s not actually dead, he was just sent back in time, where he Quantum Leaps his way back to the present day, accumulating enough Omega Energy with each leap that by the time he reaches the present day he’s blow a hole in reality. Or something, I’ve not read that story for quite a few years. Anyway: he wasn’t dead. Neither was Sherlock Holmes, or for that matter Dirty Den. Generally speaking, if someone dies in a story and then reappears, they’re not dead. Not really.

So this list here is supposed to be people who actually died. Now, even here, it’s debatable; I mean, is E.T. dead, or does his body just go into some kind of hibernation? If Optimus Prime’s brainwaves survive, does he ever really die? Is a clone someone coming back to life or not? It’s all a bit wishy-washy really, which kind of makes sense when you’re talking about resurrection. And let’s not get onto the chief resurrector, the Doctor; do they die every time they regenerate? Or is the regeneration itself a way of staving off death? When David Tennant turned into Matt Smith, did the Tennant-Doctor die? “I don’t want to go,” and all that; there’s always a subtle (or not-so-subtle) change in personality. Does that count? Well, for the purposes of this list, I’ve kinda decided it doesn’t. But it’s an interesting discussion to have, if you’re a big old nerd like me.

So yeah: people who have died – properly, I suppose – and then come back to life. That’s the list. No fakery, to mistaken identity, no alternate universe shenanigans; they were dead but they got better (no Chev Chelios either; sorry, Stath stans). No zombies either! Or vampires! They’re not undead; they were dead, and now they’re alive again. That’s the rule. Also I’ve seriously tried to limit comic book characters. And I’m sure there are some big omissions (like, I know there’s one from Game of Thrones that’s not on here, but that’s because I’ve not seen that far into the show yet; I know, I know). But I reckon these are the best at being back.

Optimus Prime (Transformers franchise, from about 1987): OP is the OG when it comes to coming back to life. Dying and then stopping being dead is pretty much his thing. Technically the first time he came back from the dead was in the original animation; famously being offed by Megatron in The Transformers: The Movie (1986), he came back to life a year later. Subsequent media have frequently killed him and brought him back, even in the live-action movies, but I want to talk about the comics. Because the original Marvel run killed off Optimus at a similar time as the cartoon; he’s blown up in slightly contrived circumstances, but his brain is saved on a floppy disk. Two years later he has his body rebuilt and his brain restored and he’s off to the races once more. Then in 1991, when facing down planet-eating mega-bastard Unicron, he sacrifices himself again, but this time his personality has begun to merge with that of his ostensibly-human companion Hi-Q. Hi-Q/Prime is converted/rebuilt into a new body, and he wins the war. So there you go: even in this one sliver of continued continuity – not including off-shoots or spin-offs, let alone other iterations of the overall franchise – Optimus Prime died and came back to life twice. Beat that, Easter.

E.T. (E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial, 1982): not much to say here that we don’t already know from the Book of Spielberg. E.T., doddery little alien magic-man, grows sicker and sicker as he’s stuck on Earth, until in a thrillingly-edited set-piece he seems to expire, human doctors unable to help him. “I know you’re gone,” says best bud Elliot, “because I don’t know what to feel.” But then! His heart glows! His colour returns! And he positively yells, “E.T. phone hooooooome!” – and Elliot’s euphoric laugh is just devastating. The whole sequence – what is it, ten minutes? Fifteen? – is masterful in every way, from the technical to the performative to the emotional. Bloody magic is what it is.

Gandalf (The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers, 1954): Gandalf the Grey famously leads the Fellowship of the Ring across the Bridge of Khazad-dûm, where he faces off against a Balrog. After a bit of “you shall not pass” and all that, they both fall from the bridge, battling each other on the way down, before both perishing at the bottom. Gandalf, though, is not really Gandalf, but Olórin, one of the Maiar – basically a kind of angel, I guess. He is returned to Earth by the powers-that-be to complete his mission, and is promoted to Gandalf the White, supplanting the corrupt wizard Saruman. This new iteration of Gandalf is a bit more serious and steadfast, although he does retain his fascination with hobbits. Regardless, he gets a terrific death scene and a triumphant resurrection, and how it ties into Tolkien’s wider mythology is interesting.

Superman (DC Comics, 1993): comic book characters die and come back all the time; it’s pretty much a staple of the medium. I guess Jean Grey/Phoenix is probably the most famous, but they’ve all done at some point (even if, like in my Batman example earlier, sometimes they don’t actually die). Anyway, Superman died, very famously, after getting into a tremendous barney with genetically-engineered super-git Doomsday (as famously, and atrociously, depicted in Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice). The whole “Death of Superman” arc is interesting and entertaining as an example of mid-nineties big-panel EXTREME storytelling: as the issues tick down to the fateful scrap in Metropolis, the number of panels-per-page is reduced until the final issue is basically just full of splash pages. It’s a terrific, exhilarating rumble, really selling the heft of the confrontation. Interestingly, the comic spends a lot of time afterwards dealing with life without Superman, as a raft of imitators/wannabe successors emerge from the woodwork; these include the best-ever Superboy, Conner Kent, and Steel, who’s basically Superman meets Iron Man. Eventually, of course, Superman comes back, his body essentially having been sent to a Kryptonian day spa to recuperate; he emerges clad in black and with a mullet, so death obviously has some lasting repercussions. Overall, it’s a whopping arc with long-term consequences, and whilst it’s easy to make Christ parallels when discussing Superman, this story doesn’t really hew that way (unlike the Snyder-verse which really goes all-in on that plot point, much to the films’ detriment). One of the better aspects is how, even in death, Superman is an inspiration, which in itself has a long trail; leading, eventually, to Batman’s famous withering diss, “the last time you inspired someone was when you where dead.” Anyway, I’ve gone on about this far too long.

Spock (Star Trek III: The Search for Spock, 1984): let’s start by acknowledging just how great Spock’s death is in Wrath of Khan. As a plot point within the film, as a piece of staging and performance, and as a landmark moment in this franchise, it was seminal; a death for the ages (as an aside, it’s crazy to think Star Trek as a whole was only sixteen years old when Spock died; the MCU was eleven when Tony Stark clicked the bucket). Anyway, they built an entire film around how to bring him back, and Spock as we know him is absent for much of it; a presence looming over everything as he rapidly ages, going through his Vulcan super-puberty and everything. It’s actually a rather sombre film as Kirk’s son is killed and the Enterprise blows up; bringing back Spock comes with a very real cost. Trek III is not one of the top-tier films – in the loose trilogy that comprises Khan, Spock, and The Voyage Home it’s certainly the weakest – but it’s still pretty good, often underrated. And, of course, it brings back Spock, which is nice.

Agent Coulson (Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., 2013): Coulson’s death in Avengers comes as a huge shock, one of the fan-favourite characters being brutally offed in surprising fashion. In a film chock full of super-people, it’s the ordinary guy who buys it tragically. However, did any of us really think he was dead-dead? And so barely a year later he pops back up in the TV series Agents of SHIELD. However, his reincarnation became a recurring plot point; his references to spending time in Tahiti (“It’s a magical place”) becoming increasingly sinister as we come to understand even he doesn’t know how he’s back up and running. The eventual truth – Nick Fury using painful and transformative alien tech to basically bring Coulson back to life – may be a bit underwhelming, but it gave Clark Gregg a lot of meat to chew on dramatically speaking, and it underscored a lot of his character development going forward (especially when he, yes, died again, and then sort-of came back, twice).

Buffy Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer, 2001): full disclosure: I never watched Buffy religiously. I think I just missed it at the start and it was only when all my friends were talking about how great it was that I started tuning in more regularly. Weirdly, I think the most I watched it was around the time Buffy died and came back. It’s fascinating, really, and full credit to the show for the way they explored it; in a series full of magic, the afterlife, and the undead, bringing a character back to life isn’t too shocking. Willow, Buffy’s witchy mate, resurrects her with magic; but in an excellent twist, it turns out that she was in Heaven, and is super pissed off to be pulled out of paradise and stuck back on Earth, leading to her feeling depressed and alienated all season. That’s a great hook for bringing a character back, and leads to some meaty stuff for Sarah Michelle Geller to do.

Agent Smith (The Matrix Reloaded, 2003): do you ever feel that The Matrix has slipped from popular culture a little bit? Twenty years ago it was ascendent, rivalling Lord of the Rings for the title of “the new Star Wars”. Everyone was copying it. but now hardly anyone talks about it. probably because it hasn’t had a multimedia shelf-life comprising dozens of games and spin-off shows. Maybe the new film will change that. But I digress; Hugo Weaving is tremendous as Agent Smith in the first film, and is exploded at the end (spoilers) by Keanu Reeves’ Neo. Unsurprisingly – especially as he’s, well, just bits of code – he’s back in the sequel. However, he’s now been corrupted; he becomes, basically, a virus, self-replicating and threatening not just our heroes but the Matrix itself. This builds across two films, as Neo has to fight dozens of Smiths in the famous “Burly Brawl”, before the final conflict in The Matrix Revolutions when it seems everyone in the program has been Smithed. It offers Weaving a lot of scenery to chew on and makes for some great set-piece battles, even if the films themselves are a little disappointing.

Olaf (Frozen II, 2019): let’s not beat around the bush here – Olaf carks it in Frozen II. Okay, maybe Elsa dies; maybe Anna dies in the first film. They’re frozen, right, but I feel like it’s “magic ice” and there’s something going on there. Do they come back to life or were they ever really dead? Anyway, Elsa is effectively “gone” but we get a protracted death scene for the comic relief talking snowman. He literally fades away, slowly dying in Anna’s arms, and melts into a flurry of snow that blows away. People talk about Bambi’s mum all the time, but mark my words; “Olaf’s death” is going to be cited as a major traumatic incident for twenty-year-olds in 2030. His resurrection, truth be told, is slightly less great, Elsa just straight-up bringing him back to life, reminding us that “water has memory” to let us know that it’s the same Olaf and he remembers everything (including, presumably, dying? That’s creepy). And that, to be honest, is where I draw the line; sentient wind and rock monsters I can handle, but we all know homeopathy is bollocks.

Emperor Palpatine (Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, 2019): look, I hate this. But let’s deal with it anyway, because I have a funny feeling it’s going to lead to some quite interesting stories being told in spin-off Star Wars fiction. I personally feel quite strongly that Palpatine should have stayed dead. And maybe he did? We are led to believe that the Palpatine we see in Rise is a clone; there are jars of stilted Snokes floating in the background. He’s all knackered and broken, eyes blackened and fingers dropping off; clearly he’s not well. So is he really the same character at all? Is his Sith essence somehow fed into this new body, the way Prime’s mind is downloaded from a floppy disk (“run prime.exe”)? Let’s say it counts, let’s say he’s the same slimy Palps we know and love. He is, at least, a sinister presence, and like I say, the whys and wherefores of how he came to be back is quite interesting. There’s a fascinating story to be told about the rise of Snoke and the seduction of Ben Solo – a more interesting story than anything told in The Rise of Skywalker, for starters. Moff Gideon in The Mandalorian seems to be researching cloning and seeks to extract midichlorians from a Force-sensitive being; are we to conclude that this in service of making a new body for the Emperor? All this – stuff hinted at but not explored in the film itself – is, like I say, interesting if not outright fascinating. And I agree, there is a certain degree of circularity in bringing back the series’ Big Bad for the final instalment. But I still feel, hand on heart, that it undoes a lot of the victory of Return of the Jedi (as did The Force Awakens, if I’m honest), as well as throwing away all the development of Rey and Kylo in The Last Jedi. So: Palpatine is cool, his presence and backstory in Rise of Skywalker is suitably creepy and interesting, but on the whole it’s crap and they shouldn’t have brought him back. The end.

Ten people who definitely died and definitely un-died! What could be more Easter-y? Honourable mention goes to the episode of Red Dwarf where Rimmer changes history and ends up not being a hologram, only to accidentally blow himself up in the final seconds.

[themattress]

OUAT AND ME: SEASON 4

Story - The story for the first half of the season is the Frozen Saga and the story for the second half is the Operation Mongoose Saga. The Frozen Saga is about Elsa from Arendelle crossing over into Storybrooke in search of her sister Anna, bonding with Emma in the process and helping her face another Snow Queen who has a secret connection to both of them, while the Operation Mongoose Saga is about heroes and villains alike searching for the elusive author of Henry's storybook so that he can give them their happy endings.

The Frozen Saga is noteworthy for being the last time that OUAT was big in the mainstream, due to the ubiquitous nature of the Disney phenomenon it was capitalizing on not even a year after its release in theaters. And despite the initial apprehension of many, it's actually the Frozen elements that are the strongest part of this story. The flashbacks tell an interconnecting tale serving as the backstory of the present-day events much like the flashbacks of the Dark Curse Saga did, making excellent use of both Frozen and OUAT's established mythology. And the present-day story is all about the unexpected yet perfectly natural bond between Emma and Elsa, and it's honestly one of the strongest depicted friendships the show has ever had. The way the two of them are further linked through the Big Bad is also ingenious, bringing about a great feeling of cohesion to the narrative.

In fact, rewatching this arc after Frozen 2, it's kind of funny how I actually prefer it as a sequel to the original movie than the actual sequel! Like Frozen 2, this arc deals with why Elsa and Anna's parents left on their fateful voyage, the discovery of a secret from their mother's side of the family, a revelation of what the source of Elsa's power is, Elsa making peace with herself while Anna learns to be more independent and ends up marrying Kristoff, and a location called the Enchanted Forest. But it does so in a way that feels more true to the characters from the original film and avoids all of the pratfalls that Frozen 2 stumbled into. There's no over-its-head political message, no sisterly separation ending, and no Olaf.

Unfortunately, there are two subplots that put a damper on things. The first subplot starts off well enough, with Rumpelstiltskin returning to his former villainous glory as he sneaks and schemes and manipulates his way through a plan to obtain the power of the Sorcerer's Hat of Fantasia fame, but it sadly fails to stick the landing in a way that matches the build-up and there end up being no lingering consequences to it when there really should have been. The second subplot is horrendous, focusing on the increasingly skeevy romance between Regina and Robin Hood while also pushing Regina forward on a ridiculous quest to find the Author of Henry's storybook. Why? She believes some cosmic rule is preventing her from having a happy ending  because she was written as a villain in the book (and not because, y'know, she was actually a villain in the past), and if she's rewritten as a hero she thinks that will change. Yes, that is the absurd idea that this whole subplot is founded upon, and the fact that everyone goes along with it as if there is an ounce of logic behind it is cringe-inducing.

Sadly, that subplot ends up becoming the plot of the Operation Mongoose Saga, which on the one hand gives Season 4 more connection between its two arcs than Season 3 had, but on the other hand it's so fucking stupid. Now, whenever it's Rumple leading around his villainous team, "the Queens of Darkness", to find the Author before the heroes can, things are fun and watchable in spite of the plot's stupidity. But whenever it's Regina and Robin's continued relationship angst or a horrendous new subplot about Snow and Charming having secretly been villains in the past by causing Maleficent to lose her child, it's tiresome and insulting. The finale, a two-parter actually named "Operation Mongoose", is highly enjoyable, but it can't fully wash away the taste of what came before it....or what it sets up to come after it.

Characters - Heroes and villains everywhere, and not always where you expect.

* Remember how in Season 3, Emma had a great character arc in the Neverland Saga but then it came to a halt in the Wicked Saga until the two-part season finale finally picked it up and resolved it? And that the Wicked Saga did her dirty by building her up as the only one who could defeat Zelena only for Regina to defeat her instead? Season 4 does kind of a repeating of these problems, except this time around they are a lot more glaring.

For most of the Frozen Saga, Emma has a great arc that's essentially her and Elsa's shared journey toward self-love; learning from each other to accept themselves and their innate powers without having to always rely on the approval of a loved one. But then, after a huge broo-ha-ha is made about how Emma must be the one to defeat the Snow Queen....she doesn't, and Anna barges in to help the Snow Queen see the error of her ways before Emma can lift a finger. She isn't even the one to save her own boyfriend from Rumple afterward, Belle does it instead. It makes Emma look like the definition of a Boring Failure Heroine.

And things don't improve for her in the Operation Mongoose Saga. Her roles are being subservient to Regina in spite of the abuse Regina had thrown her way in the previous arc, being unreasonably angry at her parents for keeping a secret from her, being vilified for daring to kill a heinous villain in defense of her son, going back and forth between being a friend or an enemy to her "dark half" Lily, and being hyped as the key to restoring reality to the way it was in the season finale...only for Regina, yet again, to end up taking that role away from her. I think it was Disney's insistence that Emma be tied to Elsa and have that arc in the Frozen Saga, because Adam and Eddy clearly couldn't care less about her.  

* Snow and Charming....SIGH. In the Frozen Saga, Snow is the new mayor of Storybrooke...until the Operation Mongoose Saga, where she suddenly isn't anymore and Regina takes up the mantle again. Through both arcs, Snow reaches new levels of bad motherhood toward Emma while continuing to coddle Regina, which is not touching, it's creepy. Charming, meanwhile, is revealed to have been a long-haired coward during his shepherd days and owes his bravery and swordsman skills to Anna, which neuters just about any coolness he ever had. And then, of course, there's the egg-napping subplot from the Operation Mongoose Saga, where Snow and Charming are revealed to have stolen the egg containing Maleficent's baby, transferred Emma's darkness into it while Emma was still in Snow's womb, and then sent it away in a portal. All because of some nebulous prophesizing and interference from Isaac. And this revelation means, according to the show, that they were villains all along and thus all this time have been pious hypocrites who just do things the easy way rather than the right way. Doesn't Regina look so much better in comparison to them now? Because that's clearly the intent behind this fucking writing decision. Character assassination at its finest.

* Henry sucks, Henry sucks, Henry.....doesn't suck? Yes, for most of the season Henry is lamer than he's ever been, still being treated like a precocious kid character even though Jared Gilmore has clearly entered puberty. But then he ends up as the leading character of the season finale, and shockingly rises to the occasion. It concludes with him becoming the new Author, and this marks a turning point in Henry's character that has been a long time coming, which I will go more into detail about when I talk about the next two seasons.

* This is the season where Regina officially crossed the line into Mary Sue territory. She decides that Marian's reappearance means that she is being punished for being a villain...not because she actually was a villain, but because some Author dared to write her as a villain in a storybook, and that he needs to rewrite her into a hero so that she can get the happy ending that she's entitled to. And in true Mary Sue fashion, she warps the plot and characters around her so that nobody objects to this idea and instead whole-heartedly embrace it.

Every good guy in Storybrooke fights to help Regina get her happy ending, constantly repeating that she "deserves it" and has "come so far" even as she continues to act in ways contradicting that notion. In the end, she doesn't even need the Author since she gets Robin Hood back, gets the adulation of being a "Light Savior" who restores reality back to normal, and has Emma sacrifice herself to the Dark One curse in order to save Regina and her "hard-earned" happy ending. I think the scene that best displays the problem is in the flashback of the episode "Mother", where we see Regina in the past remorselessly murder a groom on his wedding day for no good reason, then immediately go cry over Daniel's grave since this is the anniversary of his death, and then we cut to present-day Regina mention how life always "kicks her in the teeth". Yeah, I kinda think life kicked that groom in the teeth WAY more. So where the Hell is the Author who's gonna give his poor widowed bride her happy ending?

* Rumple, for the most part, is great in this season. In the Frozen Saga, we see him going back to his Dark Curse Saga roots as he plays the role of the true villainous mastermind behind the female Big Bad, dealing and manipulating his way toward one single objective - in this case being to use the power of the Sorcerer's Hat to "cleave" himself from the Dark One dagger. And in the Operation Mongoose Saga, he steps up as the direct Big Bad who leads a team of other villains in pursuit of the Author, under the promise that he can give them their happy endings. It helps that Robert Carlyle is clearly enjoying himself; that fun is infectious.

Unfortunately, there is a problem: Rumple fails to stick the landing in his last three episodes of both arcs. In the Frozen Saga, his failure to absorb Emma into the Sorcerer's Hat seems to drive him bonkers because he then rips out Hook's heart, relying solely on commanding him to do his dirty work all while ranting and raving repetitively about how when the stars in the sky and the stars in the hat are aligned, he will cleave himself of the dagger and he will kill Hook to do so, and that Hook better enjoy so-and-so because it'll be his last and blah blah blah. It's boring and silly, and Rumple's arrogance as he keeps saying it just makes his failure that much more pathetic. And in the Operation Mongoose Saga, his suddenly revealed heart condition ends up taking its toll on him and he is ultimately unable to mount a final assault against the heroes on his own, requiring the far less impressive Isaac to do so instead. The "Light One" version of him that Isaac overwrites him with manages to put up a fight, but that's not nearly as good. Rumple as the Big Bad should have gone out with a bang, not a whimper.

* Hook remains one of the best characters in the ensemble, forced to reconcile his pirate past with his heroic present in both the Frozen Saga and the Operation Mongoose Saga. In the former, his fears of regressing allow Rumple to manipulate him into servitude, which Hook ends up fighting against until Rumple rips out his heart. In the latter, he contends with the way in which he'd wronged Ursula in the past, and with the help of Ariel (whom he also finally does right by), he is able to rectify his mistake and grant Ursula her true happy ending. I'm not really a big fan of his new modern leather jacket, though. The pirate coat was iconic!

* Following such a good Season 3 performance, Belle looks like she's on track to become even better at the end of the Frozen Saga when she finally sees Rumple for who he is and dumps his ass all the way across the town line. It was a powerful scene with some great lines from Belle, and by all logic it should have been the end of her and Rumple as a romantic pairing. They needed to be done after that, with Belle now being free to develop her character entirely apart from Rumple. But of course, Adam and Eddy would never allow that, so all she does in the Operation Mongoose Saga is date a man she doesn't actually love to soothe her heartbreak, fall passed out on the floor, have her heart stolen by Regina and then have it recovered by Rumple which causes her to inevitably crawl back to him at the end of the finale. As the next seasons will show, this damaged Belle's character beyond repair, turning her into the very Stockholm Syndrome-afflicted abuse victim that stupid detractors of the Disney version always claimed she was. This isn't a love story anymore. It's a horror story.

* Robin Hood is a regular for this season in all but title, being present for many episodes in the Frozen Saga and even getting his own focus episode in the Operation Mongoose Saga. If there was any chance of salvaging this horrendously misused character, it died the moment it showed that he still desired a relationship with Regina even after learning that she was the one who killed Marian, which would have stuck if not for Emma and Hook's time travel adventure. I'm sorry, who does that!? That is not realistic human behavior! And it only gets worse when he ends up deliberately and vocally throwing away his honor code by cheating on Marian with Regina while Marian is frozen solid and could possibly die! Oh, but Marian ends up being Zelena anyway, so all's cool. No! All's not cool! Why did this show make Robin Hood into such a lame character!? It's especially a disservice to Sean Maguire, who's a smooth and funny guy in real life and the Robin Hood he plays utilizes none of his charm.

* And then we have the regular in title only, Robin's former associate Will Scarlet, carried over from Once Upon a Time in Wonderland. Of all the screwed-over regulars the show has had, none can compare with Will Scarlet. He does little of interest in the Frozen Saga except for enticing viewers with various mysteries about who he is, why he's here and what's he up to...and those mysteries get absolutely no pay-off in the Operation Mongoose Saga, where he barely shows up and when he does is mainly just Belle's new boyfriend (whom she scarcely interacts with directly!) so that Rumple can get jealous and more determined to find the Author. In the end, Will Scarlet is a nuisance who has fuck-all to do with anything that's going on in the season, leaving viewers scratching their heads as to why he was included to begin with. I can't believe that in his last speaking appearance, the show actually has him deliver the line "I warn ya, I'm scrappy", to which Rumple replies "All right, Scrappy." It's funny because Scrappy, in the TV Tropes usage of the word, perfectly describes Will here.

So, what went wrong? Well, originally the Wonderland spin-off was meant to take place during Season 2 of the main show, with the originally filmed pilot making this explicit. So Will in Season 4 was to be the Will we have after the Wonderland Saga's conclusion, meaning somehow he'd gone back to Storybrooke and regressed back into a selfish, self-esteem lacking, seemingly heartless thief separated from his true love Anastasia / the Red Queen. Highly unoriginal of Adam and Eddy, but whatever, there were still plans to move forward with him as a character on the main show. But those plans failed to materialize and Michael Socha spent a lot of time on set doing nothing, a miserable experience which he was very vocal about afterward. And what was Adam and Eddy's excuse? "It’s just, you know, there’s just so many…there’s just so many people that it’s like, it’s sometimes hard to do that story and sacrifice Regina’s story. That’s just showbiz." It all comes down to Regina. Of course.

In the end it's for the best that the confirmation of the Wonderland Saga as taking place in Season 2 never happened in the pilot we actually got, since Will's existence in this season only makes sense now if it was happening before the Wonderland Saga rather than after, thus my headcanon will always be that Will's fateful break-in to Granny's was after it closed up on the night "Operation Mongoose" ended on rather than the night of the wraith attack.

* Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Sven, Hans, Grand Pabbie, Oaken, the Duke of Weselton, and the former King and Queen of Arendelle are all lifted from Frozen to OUAT, and for every character that required an actor they got an actor who perfectly brought the animated movie character to life. They are also written accurately as well, with Elsa naturally being the stand-out given how much she gets to do and the bond she forges with Emma. And then there are the new Frozen characters invented for the show: Elsa and Anna's aunts - the deceased Helga and the icy-powered Ingrid, who is also the Frozen Saga's Big Bad, the Snow Queen. Ingrid, played beautifully by Elizabeth Mitchell, is essentially what Elsa might have become if Anna hadn't been so unconditionally loving toward her - her mind warped by her past pain and trauma, embittered toward all normal people, and willing to cross any moral boundary to find a family and place to belong to. Her connection to Elsa and Anna is perfectly exploited, her interactions with characters like Emma and Rumple are fascinating, and her ending where she realizes the error of her ways and sacrifices her life to reverse the damage she's done is the show's most beautiful, emotional send-offs for a villain since Rumple's death.

* The Queens of Darkness are Rumple's cohorts in the Operation Mongoose Saga who also desire the Author to write them a happy ending. The initial group is the trio of Maleficent, Ursula and Cruella De Vil, and it's later revealed that not-so-dead Zelena is also a member.

Maleficent, in spite of being played competently by Kristen Bauer van Straten and having great fashion sense in both worlds, is the weakest of the initial trio, since she is saddled with the mind-bogglingly stupid eggnapping subplot. Ursula isn't actually reflective of the Disney version of the character (Regina already did that in Season 3) and is more like a dark version of Ariel in regards to her backstory. She also isn't nearly as villainous as her peers and naturally she is redeemed rather quickly and easily as a result. And then there's Cruella De Vil, who is not a fairy tale character so everyone feared how she'd come off. Well, she's not only the best of the trio but one of the show's best villains, period. Victoria Smurfit looks, sounds and moves like the cartoon character made flesh, backed up by strong writing that makes her both funny and menacing - especially the latter when it comes to her backstory, a twisted little tale that subverts the show's usual "evil isn't born, it's made" mantra HARD.

Zelena.....SIGH. Like I said before, Adam and Eddy were dropping obvious clues that she wasn't really dead at the end of Season 3, which begged the question why they did a fake-out death to begin with. Apparently, it's because of this season's twist where, with almost no foreshadowing whatsoever, Marian is revealed to actually be Zelena in disguise, having traveled back in time with Emma and Hook and then killed the real Marian in order to take her place. She's revealed to then be pregnant with Robin Hood's child (since he slept with her thinking she was Marian...therefore, she raped him) before being hauled right on back to Storybrooke prison again. It's awful writing, salvaged only by Rebecca Mader's performance.

* We get some welcome returning characters this season, including Sydney Glass, Blackbeard, Ariel, Cora, and against all expectations August Booth. There are some interesting new side characters introduced as well, such as warlord Bo Peep (yes, really), Ursula's father Poseidon played by the great Ernie Hudson, and the Sorcerer's Apprentice, keeper of the Sorcerer's Hat and the Author's boss, meaning he naturally plays a major role throughout the season. The Author himself is Isaac Heller, played by Patrick Fischler, and he turns out to be a surprise villain who abuses his powers to influence events, which an Author is not supposed to do. While I wish he didn't take over the Big Bad position to such a degree in the finale, Isaac is still a very entertaining villain, especially when he's playing off of Regina and Rumple. His sardonic and cynical attitude also make him the perfect foil to Henry.

And then there's this season's biggest waste of a new character: Lilith "Lily" Page. There are three major problems with Lily. First of all, her origin - she's Maleficent's child that Snow and Charming kidnapped, passed all of Emma's natural-born darkness onto, and sent through a portal when she was still in an egg. It's so utterly stupid. Second, she is played by a Latino actress as a child only to have a white actress playing her as an adult. How does that work!? Finally, for all of the build-up she receives, she and her story go absolutely nowhere after she is reunited with her mother. They even make a point of giving her a scene toward the end about wanting to find who her father is, and that never gets followed up on. Even worse, the next story arc is all about Emma going dark, which Rumple had been trying to make happen throughout this arc and Lily was linked to, and yet Lily, her literal dark half, ISN'T involved!? Honestly, Mal from Descendants made a better "daughter of Maleficent" character! MAL!

Atmosphere - The Frozen Saga's atmosphere is very...Frozen-y; I don't really know another word to describe it. At least whenever it's focused on the Frozen characters. The Rumple subplot gets progressively darker to the point of becoming unpleasant, while the Regina subplot is just romantic and existential angst 24/7. These atmospheres don't fit in with the Frozen one at all, which is a testament to how Adam and Eddy are going the wrong direction with this show. Once the Operation Mongoose Saga happens, the atmosphere of the show goes insane, flip-flopping back and forth between family fairy tale wholesomeness to dark and disturbing and depressing to campiness on a level that feels off even for this show.

Episode Quality - For the most part, the Frozen Saga's episodes are perfectly fine and entertaining, although stretching out the 8th episode, "Smash the Mirror", into a two-parter was a horrible idea that cost the show terribly in the ratings. The only two standouts of badness are the 5th episode, "Breaking Glass", which introduces Lily in the flashback story while the present day story is all about Emma just having to sit back and take Regina's verbal abuse in spite of doing nothing to deserve it, and the final episode, "Heroes and Villains", whose only redeeming quality is the scene with Rumple and Belle at the town line, which doesn't even have lasting consequences. For the rest of the episode, we either spend time giving the Frozen cast a rushed, underwhelming send-off, having Rumple continue to abuse Hook while none of the idiot heroes catch on, fixating even more on Regina's angst as she has to let Robin Hood leave town in order to "save" "Marian", and watching a stupid Rumbelle-based flashback introducing the Queen of Darkness trio. In short, the episode is more the start of the Operation Mongoose Saga than it is the end of the Frozen Saga, which feels like a slap in the face to the last thing that made this show relevant to the mainstream.

And the Operation Mongoose Saga's episodes....actually got a lot better on a rewatch!? Don't get me wrong, this story arc is BAD. But when you detach yourself emotionally from the show and its characters, it becomes So Bad It's Good. It's as if the entire saga is Isaac's fanfiction; after all, it truly got started in "Heroes and Villains", and that's the name of Isaac's book in the "Operation Mongoose" two-part finale. Some episodes are unironically fun: "Darkness on the Edge of Town", "Poor Unfortunate Soul" and "Sympathy For the De Vil", but the other episodes are also fun when you just embrace how batshit crazy this whole story is and just enjoy watching how these poor actors are struggling to make something out of the material, and it's just as much fun when they fail as it is when they succeed. "Heart of Gold", the Robin Hood focus episode that reveals the Marian = Zelena twist, is one I have a soft spot for, because between Mader and Carlyle's acting, the scene of that reveal is hilarious.

Overall -  Season 4 is basically the inverse of Season 2. Whereas Season 2 was horribly structured but a lot of strong material in either writing or acting was able to make it stronger than the sum of its parts. Season 4, on the other hand, has a solid structure with two inter-connected story arcs, but the material gets so increasingly shoddy that it doesn't matter. Until Seasons 6 and 7 came along, this was definitely the weakest season the show had to offer. If you don't mind a So Bad It's Good quality, then you should stick with the entire thing. But if you only want something that's actually good, then just watch all of the Frozen material.

[evergreen-dryad]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 신의 탑 | Tower of God Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Khun Aguero Agnis/Twenty-Fifth Baam | Jyu Viole Grace Characters: Khun Aguero Agnis, Twenty-Fifth Baam | Jyu Viole Grace, Rachel (Tower of God), Headon (Tower of God), David Hockney (Tower of God), Ship Leesoo, Androssi Zahard, Hatsu (Tower of God), Anak Zahard Jr., Hwa Ryun, Mata (Tower of God) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Sirens, Deals with the Fae, Mutual Pining, Fluff and Angst, Body Possession, almost turns into a daemon au, Animal Transformation, Fairy Tale Elements, Witches, Deception, because it's rachel, Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, POV Multiple, Injury, Magic Summary:

The tales have warned before not to make deals with the fae. Especially those that are beautiful, and dangerous, and related to the sea-witch.

Viole finds he doesn't care, as he stares into the deep blue eyes of the Khun siren. He's going to risk it for their happily-ever-afters.

(In which there's a voyage over the sea, and falling in love. Khun Aguero Agnis somehow, inevitably, becomes the lighthouse for Viole Grace, and there are deals involved with legs. And a happily-ever-after.)

//here’s the thing I’ve been working on in August! Hence the silence. Enjoy~

Outwards, it is lonely dark water. The crunch of ice echoes around him as his craft moves through them slowly. In the distance, whalesong shudders.

Viole keeps an eye out. They've all been warned of the dangers.

Tales tell of fantastic creatures rising up from the sea, singing of your heart's desire. They sing in such a way to pluck out your heart, that you no longer know yourself or your right mind.

They always end with the poor soul drowning.

Though, Viole has doubts that entire shiploads can go missing, going from some of these embellished tales.

He had been following the voice over many leagues now. The voice that now winds into his ears, as sure as a shining thread of light.

Viole had stopped counting after the last fortnight had gone by in a blur. Bleak open water all around — it was easy enough to feel life was all a dream. The horizon always far away, destination unknown.

He sighs, burying his nose into his furs.

"Not too long now, Rachel," he murmurs out loud. "I'll see you again soon." Viole had found that talking out loud actually made him feel less like he was losing his mind, like uncorking a bottle the sea had deposited deep within him.

Birds swoop overhead, cawing furiously as they divebomb the water. It is that time of the day where the sun is almost directly overhead. Hunting time for the animals, but for Viole it is time to sleep. He retreats back into his cabin gratefully. Even here, the sunlight can be searing. He had found that out the hard way, back when he'd been starting out.

Back when he'd begun this journey to find a witch, for Rachel's legs.

Rachel, who might never run and laugh again, and walk on her own two legs to find her fortune. It had hit her especially hard because she was the only child.

Only children rarely fare well in the stories, so she had told Viole. Especially if one of their parents die and remarry and give them a stepsibling. They fare even worse if they're the oldest, she said, in that gloomy tone of voice that said she was ready to go off for a long sulk. And Viole didn't like that.

"I'll go," he said quickly before it looked like she'd start crying. "I'll go and be your legs. And - I'll look for your fortune, Rachel."

She'd brightened.

There were hedge witches, but they apparently did not know the magics needed for deep healing. So he'd travelled the other direction of the crossroads instead, to the coast.

(He was afraid to go too far from Rachel. Somewhere too far from all he'd known. )

But here he was anyway, set adrift in an unfriendly sea. Viole had never really had the chance to visit the ocean much before, but he found with a few rough starts he was actually a pretty good hand at sailing. He knew ropes well. The rest were adjusting the various parts of the ship he’d rented on the fly.

If he could just find a sea witch, he returns to his thoughts drowsily, perhaps even the fabled sea witch, of which the info broker said the sirens are abundant—

(“A Khun siren could probably do the trick,” Shibisu said pensively over folded hands. A critical glance went over him. “But are you sure? They’re known to be vicious and exacting.”)

—then they could swap Rachel’s bad legs for good ones.

They had to.

Making deals with any of the fae was bad enough, let alone with a witch, but Viole is nothing but determined to pay the price.

(If like repels like, then surely like can cancel out like?)

Sleep drags him down into its depths. The voice spirals along with him, and Viole dreams of sky-blue expanses.

.

At night, the voice echoes even clearer over the waves. It reverberates, bouncing off the icebergs almost eeriely, till Viole can feel the notes of the siren song hooking into his chest. Four clear notes, always the same. He didn’t understand why, but it was his only clue.

It seemed he was the only person who could hear it too. When he asked Hockney, the guy who rented him the craft, he’d shaken his head and looked at him oddly. And Hockney had eagle eyes who could see storms coming from far-off.

Maybe Viole’s special talents lay in hearing the unseen.

He gazes upwards at the sky, holding out his hands to measure the space between stars. He’s only approximating where he thinks he needs to go, after all. But he does have to make sure he doesn’t just sail right back where he came from, or fall off the edge of the earth.

How far will he need to go?

He had reached ice. He had never known there was even ice beyond the sea that bordered them. What would be beyond all this? His teeth were chattering.

.

Only the desperate can hear them. This was what the singing of the Khuns was renowned for — the lure they maintained, for their desolate icy kingdom.

Aguero Agnis knew this. He had watched the dark shape of the boat come over the waves, steering by night.

Hunger simmered deep within his bones, his tail shifting impatiently. He knows a chance when he sees it. Perhaps it’s not his, but he will take it. He had borrowed power for the occasion, after all.

He will be nothing more than his father's lackey if he stays under here.

There is not a single thing that truly belongs to him. All undersea belonged to his father, where the ice breathed and shone.

There's nothing more he hates than drowning alive. They know all about killing people, things slowly.

They are Khuns. They do not do things otherwise. They hunt with the killer whales, beating in the prey in a shell of bubbles.

This Khun, however, has no intention of following the same rules.

Softly, he unspooled the lure, note after note. The moon above, magnifying his every ulululation.

 Yes, come, little fish.

It was coming to the ice shelf, the boat scraping through, slowing down.

It was easy enough for Aguero to hide under the sheet ice, their colouring naturally lending them camouflage in this world of blues and greys.

He flicked his tail in agitation. He couldn't get a clear visual without giving himself away, but he could hear the whistling breath of the human overhead, as it strained. The rhythm by which it rowed, its oars scraping and carving against the broken-up bits of ice.

Here it comes now, the prey over the waters. Aguero peers upwards through a small disc of air—

—and sees a young man, dark hair tied up in a little tail.

Why, if he isn't a lean one. The shape of his fate had a body like a fisherman. This was the hook he had fashioned for himself, and now all he had to do was throw himself upon it, and up the line and sinker he would go.

I will bend fate to my will. Moonbeams travelled down the runes he’d casted, etched into the grooves of his skin.

Now then, how could he make a grand entrance?

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

Photographs (August 2168)

.....

Characters: Balthazar Cavendish, Vinnie Dakota, Savannah (mentioned)

Rating: G

Words: 2302

Genre: Friendship

Summary: On their first day (officially) working together, Cavendish starts to realize there’s more to Dakota than meets the eye...

.....

Balthazar Cavendish had only met Vinnie Dakota twice so far: first when he rudely barged into his student time vehicle and then the next day when fate twisted again and assigned them as partners.

It had been a week since that whole incident and today they were to receive their first (official) assignment. Vinnie suggested they carpool and drive over to the Bureau together; still nursing the bruises from the last time he was relegated to the passenger seat, Balthazar insisted he would drive.

Vinnie lived clear on the other side of the city—a 20 minute drive from Balthazar’s apartment near the east hills (well, 20 minutes by airway, but closer to 30 if traffic forced him to travel by road, as it did today). Although the prospect of a lengthy commute annoyed him, he supposed the distance could be a good thing as it lessened the likelihood of them running into each other outside of work.

As he drove, he found his spirits caught in a strange mix of both burning optimism and ice-cold dread. While he couldn’t deny that saving the day and working with a partner had been extremely exciting, that element of unpredictability still bothered him.

He didn’t like things he couldn’t control; he never had. The high regard he held for order and precision had enabled him to play piano with astounding technical accuracy and to learn and practise law with a keen certainty. When he had first shifted his attention to studying time travel, he was sure his eye for detail and reverence for rules would make him a fine agent; now, in light of recent events, he couldn’t help but wonder if it would be enough...

He reached the address Vinnie had described over the phone and decided it would be best to pack his niggling doubts away in a proverbial box and leave it on a very high shelf for the time being.

He parked on the street, got out the car, straightened his attire, and paused for a moment to take in the scene. This part of town was built well over a century ago and the majority of its inhabitants occupied that odd but plentiful bracket of the lower end of middle class. Vinnie’s apartment building stood in a row of similar, blockish structures, all of which boasted bare bricks and wrought iron fire escapes and stood somewhere between eight and twelve storeys high. Altogether, it seemed a pleasant neighbourhood but Balthazar thought it better suited to struggling artists or the blue-collar crowd rather than a Time Agent.

He found and rang the bell for the apartment listed under Vinnie Dakota. Enough time passed that he considered ringing again when the intercom crackled on and a tired voice greeted him.

“What’s up, chicken butt?”

“I beg your pardon?!”

“Oh, hey!” Vinnie exclaimed. “Mr Banana! How ya doin’?”

“It’s Cavendish,” Balthazar corrected, icily.

“Oh, right. Cavendish, banana—eh, that’s just how my mind works. Sorry. Hang on, I’ll buzz you in.”

“I can just wait out h—” he began but the intercom clicked off and the door unlocked before he could finish. With a resigned sigh, he entered the building.

He took the elevator to the seventh floor, then it was “just down the hall, take the first left, and it’s the third door to your right. Ya can’t miss it.” Well, Vinnie had been right about that: it was the only door covered in stickers.

“My friend went to Hawaii and all he got me was this lousy sticker,” lamented a disproportionate pineapple wearing sunglasses and surfing a wave. Another portrayed the Eiffel Tower with a moustache and a beret bidding “Bon voyage!” A variety of stickers brought greetings from Italy, Tokyo, Cape Town, Sydney, and other capital cities around the world (most with their old names no one used anymore, Balthazar noted). Dotted about the place were depictions of random objects like a ukulele and some kind of car, some were types of food like pizza and kebabs, but he couldn’t miss the fact that most were cartoonish caricatures of extinct creatures he had only seen pictures of in textbooks.

Distracted by the odd collage, Balthazar jumped back when the door opened without warning.

“C’mon in, Stretch,” Vinnie beckoned, bringing his hand up to just barely cover a loud yawn as he stepped aside to allow his guest in. “Make yourself at home; I’ll be with you as soon as I find my jacket.”

Balthazar glanced over his new partner’s attire and pointedly cleared his throat.

Vinnie closed the door behind them and turned around, frowning in confusion when he caught sight of the other man’s disapproving expression. He looked down and only then seemed to register that he was only wearing a faded T-shirt and boxers. “Oh. And my pants. Probably need those, too.”

Balthazar crossed his arms. “You should be dressed by now. This is highly unprofessional.”

“Hey! I am dressed!” Vinnie protested. “Just not for work. And, in the future, if you’re gonna get all high and mighty, the least you could do is warn a guy when you’re gonna be a whole hour early!”

“I am not—!” Balthazar began but cut himself off when he caught sight of an analog clock on a bookshelf. In preparing to travel to the past, he had had to learn to read those: both hands pointing down meant 6:30.

He consulted his own watch and his face went red. “Oh, blast it!” he muttered, hotly, as he started fiddling with the settings. “I forgot I had this infernal contraption set an hour ahead!”

“What? You on daylight savings time or something?”

“Pardon?”

“Daylight sa—never mind. It was a thing over a century ago.”

“I set it an hour ahead last week because of my driving test,” Balthazar explained, trying not to sound too sheepish.

Vinnie raised an eyebrow, his expression suddenly turning as serious as it had been when he saw those kids in danger. “Are you that bad at keeping time?”

He quickly shook his head. “Hardly ever; I just really didn’t want to chance being even the slightest bit late for my final exam.”

“You know there’s such a thing as too early, right?”

“I don’t believe so; no.”

There was a moment wherein he thought Vinnie was going to argue the point, but he just shrugged and waved a dismissive hand. “Like I said: make yourself at home, I’ll just be a few minutes,” he said and peeled away.

Balthazar intended to remain in the one spot; he had finished resetting his watch but still felt like a complete idiot and didn’t want to risk any further gaffes. But his curiosity got the better of him and he soon found himself wandering (well, he did have permission...)

He had to admit he held a few preconceived ideas of what the home of Vinnie Dakota might look like. He’d only met the man briefly, but he seemed rather committed to his reckless, blasé attitude and he could only imagine such a person living in a slovenly, malodorous nest.

That was not the case.

The apartment was small and cramped and cluttered, but it wasn’t dirty. There was a strong, unusual smell hanging in the air; although Balthazar couldn’t identify it, it wasn’t all that unpleasant—actually, it reminded him of those old-fashioned restaurants he used to play piano in.

The bookshelf he noticed earlier caught his eye again; this time, he took note of the colourful array of books stacked and lined on the shelves as well as the diverse collection of trinkets, souvenirs, and gadgets. The objects were displayed with little rhyme or reason regarding their order: snow-globes of all kinds and shapes mingled amongst Chinese fans and Russian nesting dolls and defunct devices such as a camcorder, a dial telephone, and a zoetrope. Balthazar didn’t fail to notice that, although most of those things would be considered antiques, they were all in fairly new condition.

After a few minutes, he took a step back and his attention quickly shifted from the bookshelf to the hundreds of photographs in mismatched frames covering the walls, so much so that one could barely glimpse the bright yellow wallpaper beneath. The quality of the photographs varied from grainy, black and white to slightly washed-out, sepia tone to clear and vibrantly coloured.

Balthazar knew his new partner had been a Time Agent for a while already; it was the Bureau’s policy to pair new recruits with full-fledged agents. But knowing this man had already been on missions throughout time and actually seeing snapshots of that career were two very different things.

Quite a few of the photographs showcased places and buildings in different time periods, positioned side by side to highlight the changes through the years; a number featured archaic machines and devices, and more of those extinct creatures (except this time they were real, not just cartoonish representations); but, most notably, the majority of the photographs were candid shots of people.

After casually examining the photos for a few minutes, Balthazar began to register a few recurrent faces. The most notable subject was a young man with olive skin, dark hair, and a short but lean frame; always wearing tinted shades of some sort, always caught in the middle of a laugh or striking a silly pose—without the wild shock of curls, it took him quite a while to identify him as a younger Vinnie. Often pictured alongside him either mirroring the silly pose or with his hand on his shoulder was a much taller, older man with dark blue hair and weathered skin; if it weren’t for the fact they lacked any physical similarity, Balthazar would’ve assumed the man was Vinnie’s father. Wherever the older man was absent, a young woman with a dark, flawless complexion and glossy, violet hair took his place—there were hardly any instances of her smiling and she didn’t seem to care for Vinnie’s antics at all but she must not have completely disliked him as there was one photo of her curled up and asleep in the backseat of a Time Vehicle with her head resting on his shoulder.

There was only one photograph with all three of them. It seemed to be after a mission of some sort. They all looked dog-tired, covered in bruises and dirt, but they still managed smiles for the camera, holding their heads up even as they leaned on each other for support. The muted colouring of the photograph suggested it had been taken somewhere around the mid-1900’s but Balthazar hadn’t honed his skills enough to pinpoint precisely when. Most of interest was a small note accompanying the photograph in the frame; it was just a scrap of paper, presumably torn from a cheap notebook and not at all remarkable save for the short message scrawled on it:

To Vinnie and Silvia,

Count every moment and make every moment count,

Emit Relevart

The Hot War Mission (1964 / 2164)

“‘Hot War’?” Balthazar read aloud, his face crumpling in confusion. “What the deuce is—?”

“It’s everything the Cold War wasn’t.”

Balthazar gasped and jumped backwards, a hand flying up to clutch his chest. “Kidney pie and chips!” he exclaimed. “Don’t do that!”

A now more appropriately dressed Vinnie gave him a sideways glance. “Well, that’s one way to keep it PG,” he remarked with an utterly infuriating bemused smirk. He let out a soft huff of a laugh and gave a small shake of his head as he returned his gaze to the photograph.

Balthazar opened his mouth, ready to say quite a few things—such as “What does ‘PG’ mean?” and “Don’t sneak up on people!”—but the words stopped in his throat.

Something flashed across Vinnie’s expression, something even the bulky sunglasses with their vibrant tint couldn’t hide; it was only there for the briefest of moments but Balthazar didn’t miss it. He’d seen it before, on the faces of complete strangers who gathered whenever he played an old, slow melody on the piano in the middle of the city square.

He turned his attention back to the picture one last time. He couldn’t quite determine if it was the people or the referenced occasion, but he got the sense this was an important piece of Vinnie. He made it a point to commit the little message to memory—what it would accomplish, well, he wasn’t so sure in that regard, but it felt too significant to miss.

Vinnie cleared his throat; the sound was abrupt but Balthazar was aware of his surroundings enough this time around not to jump again. “So,” he said, his smile and easy demeanour returning in a flash, “seeing as we have a whole hour to kill, how’s about we get some breakfast?”

Balthazar crossed his arms and put on a glare that was only half-strength. “I hope you’re not planning to kidnap me and drag me to the early 2000’s just for omelettes.”

He seemed to consider that for a second before shaking his head. “I can’t think of any good places for omelettes... not in the 2000’s, anyway. Nah, I was just gonna make something.” He whirled around and headed for the kitchen. “You like pancakes?”

“You actually know how to cook?”

Vinnie shrugged. “Eh, I picked up a few things here and there. It comes in handy when you travel to time periods that don’t have auto-preppers.”

“And yet you still felt it necessary to hijack my Time Vehicle and travel back over a century just to get lunch?” Balthazar raised an eyebrow.

Vinnie shot his new partner a lopsided smirk. “You’re not gonna let that one go, are you, Stretch?”

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

The Voyage So Far: Punk Hazard

east blue (1 | 2) || alabasta (1 | 2) || skypiea || water 7 || enies lobby || thriller bark || paramount war (1 | 2) || fishman island || punk hazard || dressrosa (1 | 2) || whole cake island || wano (1 | 2)

nami i love you

i reread nami’s backstory for the east blue post shortly before sitting down to write this one up, and it made her insistence on helping the punk hazard children hit a little different for me. they’re victimized and exploited kids, just like she was. 

law’s devil fruit is genuinely one of my favorites, as well as, in my opinion, one of the visually coolest by far, and i love all the cool displays of it we get both in this arc and the next one

i know law gets clowned on a lot this arc, and that’s fantastic too, but he also has a lot of genuinely cool panels, especially early on

characters that remind me how gay i am

relatedly, i do think monet has one of the best visual designs introduced in the new world, especially for a character who, ultimately, is a minor antagonist. i’m not just saying that because she’s hot, either- her wings and talons flow so well with the rest of her design while giving her a monstery look that will later come out FULL force when she turns into a full-on snow monster.

law saying he’s free to go wherever he wants, and his chopping up anyone who even dares to question that right, hits a lot harder knowing his backstory and cora’s final words and thoughts

alliance time!! this was eight and a half years ago in real time, and these two are still working together. i kind of like thinking about this from law’s point of view, because he allied with the strawhats solely to have a few more hands on deck for his dressrosa suicide plot and definitely never assumed he would be around to actually go through with the ‘fighting kaidou’ part of the plan.

joke’s on him. he allied with the strawhats.

luffy’s smile here makes me very happy 

kinda like thriller bark, punk hazard is another pretty teamwork-based arc, which is something i really love. it’s particularly fun in this case because there’re a bunch of vastly different people and groups thrown together (the strawhats; smoker, tashigi and the g-5 guys; law; kin’emon (and momo)) who are all very different and yet can work very well together when needs must. 

smoker and tashigi get a downgrade in prominence post-timeskip, mostly because the introduction of armament haki means smoker just can’t be the threat he used to be anymore, and i have particular problems with tashigi’s treatment in this arc that i’ve written about before, but- all that said, smoker is still really, really good character in punk hazard, especially in his interactions with vergo and law. 

i really love when little, forgettable details come up in ways you might not expect- of course nami’s heat ball hard counters monet’s powers, at least momentarily. she’s made of snow. oda is really incredible of keeping track of little things like this.

i may have issues with the monet fight but god if this isn’t sexy as hell 

of the strawhats, i think chopper is actually one of the ones who shines the most in punk hazard. chopper has some of his best moments when faced with so-called ‘doctors’ who use science to hurt and dehumanize others, directly spitting on everything chopper values and believes in and everything hiriluk died for. he’s really good in thriller bark for the same reason. 

this is one of my very favorite luffy panels. 

law defeating (and ultimately killing) vergo is highly satisfying just on a first read with only context from this arc, given vergo’s earlier torture of law and his betrayal of the g-5 men’s trust in him, but it takes on an entire new dimension with the knowledge of law’s backstory and just what vergo did to him and cora. 

fishman island might be the first major arc after the timeskip, but punk hazard, specifically law’s new era speech at the end of it, strike me as much more emblematic and a much better introduction of what the entire post-ts era of the story is about. it’s not just about survival anymore- it’s about directly, proactively confronting the old, entrenched systems of power that rule the world and then tearing them down to make room for a new world and a new age.

i’ve written... a lot of meta about the donquixote family, their strange, abusive cultishness and the obsessive love and loyalty they hold for doflamingo and how he doesn’t value them in nearly the same way, but this panel in particular is one that sticks with me. 

i think this is the only time anyone other than luffy is described as “the man who will become the pirate king” (海賊王になる男/kaizoku-ou ni naru otoko). monet is ready to die for doflamingo, and this is her last thought. it ties very effectively into the twisted parallels between the donquixote pirates and the strawhats.

it might be obvious by now, but i’m a huge sucker for group shots

i couldn’t find a good place to mention it earlier, but i really love how kin’emon and momonosuke are introduced in this arc. they’re introduced as fairly inconsequential characters with no real indication that they’ll be anywhere near as important as they will be in the future. 

and yet at the same time, there are a lot of details from this arc that make a lot more sense having read wano- momo’s fear of heights, kin’emon’s dislike of dragons, momo’s unwillingness to eat food given to him that hasn’t been taste-tested (definitely something he learned as a shogun’s son, and also probably what saved him from suffering the same fate as the other kids). oda is on a storytelling level i can’t even conceive.

doflamingo has already been pretty thoroughly established as a very dangerous person ever since his introduction back in jaya, but his absolutely destroying smoker and nearly killing him just for not telling him what wants to know really drives the point home, just in time for him to come to the fore as main antagonist of the next arc.

[bang-to-the-tan]

Vessel Euphoria Chapter 4

► SciFi!AU

Thriller

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mind Control, Upsetting Themes Throughout, Alien Parasitism

↳ Summary: 6 months ago, the crew of the space vessel “Euphoria”—destined for a scientific study on a distant planet—dropped out of all communication. You and your fellow crewmates are inbound to reestablish communication with home base, but things are not as they seem and the fate of the mission is placed in grave danger.

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It’s always exciting to step onto an alien planet. Always something new, to feel the local gravity pull at your knees, urge you closer. To watch alien moons and suns dance in strangely-colored skies. As you pull on the suit, zipping it up, sealing yourself away from this world and all its intentions, you can’t help but wonder what its personality will be like. What will it say to you?

The exit lights flash, the door behind you sealing the room for a spray of decontamination, depressurizing, the robotic voice overhead warning of the door to the outside opening. Your stomach always lurches when it hisses, detaches, begins to lower. Something inside you is never unsurprised. You’re never left unexcited by the possibilities.

Slowly, Orul-82’s horizon is bared to you past the metal doorway of the ship. The sky is yellow, tinged for the miniature suns it orbits, soon to reach its version of twilight. It casts rich light and deep shadows, bathing everything you see in warmth. The ground beneath is flat, reaching miles, so many miles, into the distance past the secondary tower that shines, looms ahead like a child’s toy placed among posies. Those red flowers are everywhere, waving in the breeze that you can’t feel past the suit, burnt away near you, shriveled by whatever it is that attacked them. This close, you can see the green roots beginning to sprout up from where they’ve died. Orul, taking back her surface from the invaders. From you.

“Come on,” says Jimin through the radio inside his helmet. “I want to be back before dark.”

You bite back a quip, still riding the adrenaline, the euphoria, of being so close to something so foreign. It’s not his fault that this is your favorite part.

When your boot makes contact with the soil--firm, but moist, almost spongy--a shiver runs through your frame and you can’t repress the grin that curls your mouth upwards. Jimin obviously is less interested in greeting this new planet, already making a direct line for the entrance to the secondary tower.

“These flowers are huge,” you settle for instead, absently reaching out as you walk to caress a nearby petal from an adolescent plant that even in its youth still reaches your waist. “I wonder what feeds them.”

“Don’t fuck with the flowers,” your compatriot bites, pulling up to the door and beginning to key in the passcode. “Or have you forgotten what happened on DW?”

“That was not my fault.” You step up beside him, casting a glance around the front of the base. It all looks secure, there’s no pieces missing, no outward damage. Seems good. “How was I supposed to know the rats could open their jaws like that?”

Jimin turns to you, eyes wide, head cocked. “By not fucking with the local wildlife.”

“It was cute.”

“Before it tried to eat us.”

“Operative word being tried.”

 “Door 1A, opening.” The robotic voice overhead interrupts. Inside is another chamber like the one on the ship, lights flashing. The two of you step inside, still arguing. You sidle up to the small window to the inside, eager to get a first look, but it’s too dark to see much of anything. Main power supply must be off, though tertiary is still running, judging by a lamp you can see from here that’s been thrown onto the ground. There’s papers scattered on the floor in front of it and the shadows of some furniture in the back.

“Which is why we need weapons.”

“We needed them for DW because there were snake-wolves that roamed the base at night, Jimin.”

“Door 1A, closing.”

“How do you know there’s no snake-wolves on Orul?”

“The scans?”

“Bay 1, beginning decontamination process.”

“Scans can be wrong. Just look at Yoongi.”

You turn away from the peephole at his tone. Jimin is frowning at the ground, nose scrunching. The spray nozzles hiss above him, making him look vaguely like some tortured protagonist in a romance movie with the droplets running down his visor. The sanitization fluid evaporates quickly, leaving behind faint streaks. Like second nature, your arm reaches out to grip his arm, sending him a gentle grin when he finally, stubbornly, meets your eye.

“He’s fine. Jung isn’t going to send him home, he’s just gonna sleep off his bruises and then everything’ll be back to normal. Don’t—“

“Door 1B, opening.”

His attention is pulled from you to the door sliding open behind you. His eyes widen in shock, mouth going agape.

“Uh.” He interrupts, leaning to crane a little ways past you.

You spin around just in time to watch a table topple from its position atop a stack revealed by the door opening, tumbling to the ground with a deafening clatter just a foot away. It’s a veritable pyramid, built up of chairs and tables and lamps, research equipment. There’s an unplugged mini fridge on the bottom and a waste basket holding up a wheely chair. Some of it shudders and collapses as you stare, incredulous, throwing random parts in every direction.

After reassuring yourself that none of it will fall onto you, recollecting your heartbeat, you step forward, tailed closely by Jimin, who’s expression is just as confused as yours must be.

“A barricade?” you ask after a second of silence.

“From the inside. Not to keep someone in.”

“To keep someone out…?”

The papers in front of the lamp catch your eye next, now unobscured by the protective glass of the tiny window, and you’re shocked to realize they’re drawings. You move to pick one up, fumbling with it a little for how thick the suit makes your fingers. It’s a complaint sheet. Or at least, it was. Someone has written all over it, drawn all over it. Red marker, black, green…A portrait of a face that you almost recognize with all the artistic care put into the rendition, but it’s been violently scribbled over. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Written again and again, squeezed into margins. The edges are half-torn, as if someone had a mind to rip the whole thing apart, and couldn’t go through with it.

The whirr of the generators powering up makes you jump and you cast a surprised look about the room when the overhead lights flicker and groan, finally illuminating the entire opening area.

It’s a mess.

Someone has really done a number on the place. You can’t imagine there’s much furniture left in the entire base. Most of it is stacked up behind you, presumably against the door, but there’s also what you could only describe as a makeshift lean-to in the corner, covered with ripped-up seat cushions. There’s a small pile of something, burnt black, that smolders in front of it. Table and chair legs litter the floor, papers, everywhere. Cans, of what you can positively identify as the flash-frozen food left over from a space voyage. Empty. Stacked, some, thrown about the place. Paint, the bright red intended for landmarks, splashes violently up one side of the wall, a clear handprint dragging through it as if clawing in desperation.

 “What the fuck,” you hiss, taking it all in.

“Shh.” Jimin’s voice comes through your remote radio, making you jump again. He appears beside you, body angled protectively towards you, staring at the lean-to. It must have been him who flipped the main power. He cocks his head at you, then back to the corner, miming a finger against his lips as best he can. It takes a moment, but you finally get what he’s thinking. It’s still smoking.

Whoever tore the base to pieces is still here. Was right here. Recently.

Jimin starts moving first, his footsteps silent, avoiding the trash all over the floor. He glides towards the far door leading into the hallway, eyes sharp. You can taste your heartbeat as you follow. It’s quiet, too quiet, muffled by the walls and further by the suit, and even so you’re straining for anything, any sound, any movement. The door ahead should open into a hallway that in turn leads to the maintenance room, stock room, and finally the tower control. You’ve seen the blueprints. Even though the hallway illuminated through the port window on the door seems average, long and narrow, emptying into a four-way intersection, you can’t help the sense of foreboding coiling in your stomach.

The two of you reach the door, and Jimin immediately ducks to avoid the porthole. You follow suit on instinct. His arm rises, signaling you to stay put and you stop in your tracks, holding your breath. He steps forward. Triggerd by motion sensors, the door hisses open, sliding soundlessly into the wall. Nothing. The hallway peers back brightly, but still you don’t move. The blood rushing in your head is deafening. Your companion hesitates, then begins creeping again, slowly straightening into an upright walk. Somehow, he manages to make no noise at all, even wearing the suit. You watch him. He walks forward, slowing when he reaches the intersection and craning his head to the right, down the adjoining hallway.

The door in front of you hisses warningly, beginning to glide shut again.

 Movement, ahead, a dark shape from the left darting with a feral war cry that cuts off when it makes contact, catching Jimin in a tackle, and they both fly down the right hallway with the impact, Jimin shouting in answer.

You’re moving before you can think. The door tries to accommodate you as you suddenly burst through it, but you catch your shoulders, your legs, struggling to dislodge enough to reach your teammate, taking the length of the hallway in what feels like two strides, skittering at the end to try and redirect, slamming yourself into the wall. You’re already changing position, shifting gears, towards where they’d disappeared.

It’s a man, with black hair so long and shaggy it hides his face. Wearing a black jumpsuit intended for mechanic work that has definitely seen better days. He’s straddling Jimin, long hands straining to curl around his throat, his breath puffing through his teeth with exertion. Jimin’s helmet has been knocked off, laying now by the hallway north. Instinctively, you’re stepping forward, intending to throw yourself at the new threat, but in a swift movement, Jimin locks his leg around the stranger, throwing him to the side violently and rolling on top. He rears back before you can get any closer and slams his fist into the other man’s jaw, snapping his head back into the floor with a sick sound.

“Jimin!” You’re flying to his side, wrapping your arm around his chest, trying to heave him off, watching cautiously as the stranger makes a choked noise of pain, scrabbling upwards. After a moment, Jimin finally relents, standing with you, allowing you to pull him back, seething through his teeth and breathing hard.

“Fucker,” he spits, threatening to lunge again, but you jerk him towards you instead, eyes trained on the other man as he finally gets on shaking legs and stumbles down the hall a short ways before nearly tripping and whirling around, leaning against the wall for support. He digs into his pocket and retrieves a taser, pointing it at the two of you with an unsteady hand. His eyes are wild beneath the straggling strands of hair, breathing harder even than Jimin, chest heaving in panic.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!” Jimin shouts again, but you pull him behind yourself, casting him a quick glance.

“Calm down,” you begin, placating. “Okay, nobody here wants to hurt anyone else.”

“Tell that to fuckin’ samurai ninja asshole over there,” Jimin snaps, drawing his arm underneath his nose. He checks the back of his head where he must have landed on it, wincing.

“He’s not an asshole, we startled him,” you correct, looking to the other man. Making sure you move deliberately, slowly, you remove your own helmet, setting it gently on the ground. When you start walking slowly towards him, he jerks, retraining the taser to point more directly at you. “Right?”

“I’m fucking bleeding, the asshole.”

The stranger shifts again when you pass the six foot line, his free hand feeling behind himself at the wall, body weight moving as if tempted to throw himself down that hallway, away from you. His eyes are painfully wide. They’re almost pretty, soft chocolatey doe eyes, but ringed with red and sunken in from too many sleepless nights.

“I’m the communications technician from the vessel Epiphany.” You say calmly, enunciating clearly. “This is Jimin, he’s our navigations tech. We didn’t mean to scare you.”

He doesn’t reply, but his eyes twitch from you to Jimin, then back. Good, he’s listening. Not in any shape to retain, perhaps, but aware enough to reason with.

“We’re looking for the crew members of the vessel Euphoria. Is that you?”

“Eu-euphoria.” The man mumbles, a hollow echo. His brows pull together in confusion, searching your face desperately.

“Is that you?” you repeat, looking to the nametag sewn into his suit. Your heart sinks. “…Jungkook?”

It’s him. Suddenly, you recognize that face, as bedraggled, wild as it is. You’ve seen him countless times. Clean, happy. His soft voice, lisping occasionally through his maintenance logs when he’s deep in thought. Running those long fingers through jet hair nervously. Spinning, swiveling in his chair as he mumbles shyly through lists of things he’s accomplished as if they weren’t anything to be proud of. The youngest mechanic to go straight from the academy into a mission. Jeon Jungkook. The “golden boy”—rumored to have aced every class no matter the subject. Panting like a wild animal in front of you, cowering in a half-crouch, every limb shaking, staring at you he’s never heard his name before.

Jungkook gapes openly, as though about to speak, but whatever leagues and leagues of emotion are threatening to spill out from his eyes are so unspeakable he only trembles. You take another step and again he thrusts the taser at you, but now he’s unsure of his own actions; there’s a delay between your foot meeting ground and his arm moving.

“Jungkook, we both know,” you begin again, voice low, meeting his gaze patiently. “Both of us know, that the lack of a light on that thing means it doesn’t work anymore. Right?”

He looks from you to the device in his hand. It hasn’t been recharged; the light that usually shines green for good and red for low is completely dark. As he stares, trying so hard to comprehend, it slips from his fingers and to the ground, clattering, bouncing to land by you.

You kick it away with a subtle motion, down the hallway to your left. His arm falls limply to his side, and he continues to watch the space where it was with an empty expression.

“And you don’t want to hurt us, right? We don’t want to hurt you. We want to help.”

“Don’t get too close.” Jimin warns bitterly from behind you. “He might jump you.”

“It’s okay.” You reply, soothing. You pull off one of your gloves, baring your skin to him in a show of being unarmed. You reach with your hand palm-out, when Jungkook flinches at Jimin’s voice. “It’s okay. Jungkook isn’t going to hurt me.”

You’re close enough now that you can smell him. It’s not pleasant. The last time he bathed must be a distant memory. It’s taking a lot of self-control not to make a childish face of disgust at the strong scent of body odor.

You hold your hand out closer, twisting so that your palm is up, moving at a snail’s pace. Something sparks in Jungkook’s expression, some familiarity, and it breaks a dam inside of him. Suddenly, there are tears spilling from his eyes, coasting down his cheeks, forcing his breath into shuddering intakes. He raises his own hand, as though afraid, bewitched, and slowly stretches his fingers to your palm. He doesn’t take your hand. Instead, he trails his fingertips across your palm, the meat of your thumb, the inside of your wrist, watching mesmerized as he cries.

“You’re real,” he croaks, sniffles, choking into a sob. “You’re real.”

“I’m real.” You affirm. “It’s nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“You’re really here.” His long fingers curl easily over your hand, catching your wrist. You can hear Jimin bristle, but you raise your other arm slightly, enough to stay him. Jungkook isn’t even holding you tightly, just enough to feel the solidness of you. He’s clammy, but feverish against your skin.

“I am.”

“I—I’m…“ he chokes again, brows pulling forward, eyes squeezing shut. “I’m sorry.” He suddenly, violently, retracts, sinking to the ground, still leaning his weight against the wall, curling in on himself until he has his knees pulled in front of his face, his hands shaking against his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He starts babbling apologies under his breath, hiding his face.

“Okay. It’s okay.” You reassure, taking a deep breath. That’ll be all you can get out of him for now, you think. You straighten, turning to Jimin. “We’re going to get him into quarantine, and then we’ll see if there’s anyone else up here.”

“You think they’re all holed up here…?”

“Not really. There’s no reason for him to react like that if there were other people up here. Plus, there was only the one hut.” You cast another glance at Jungkook, but he’s clearly busy.

Jimin pauses. “…You mean we’re looking for corpses.” He says finally, hollow.

Your stomach flips and you swallow hard past the lump that forms in your throat. “It’s a possibility.”

“If you stay here, I’ll check the other rooms.”

“You don’t—“

“It’s okay. You stay with him.” Jimin reaches forward, catches your forearm in a comforting grip, just like you’d done earlier. When your eyes meet, you can feel the reassurance he’s trying to offer. “I’ll…I’ll go look. Just really quick.”

You hesitate. Exhaustion, the aftermath of the adrenaline, sinks warningly into your limbs and you suddenly feel so tired. After a beat, you nod. Jungkook doesn’t move, not even when Jimin jogs past him, headed down to the tower control. He’s back within a few minutes, nodding his head, casting a quick, almost warning look down at your new companion.

“Clear.” He says, turning down to the stock room.

“Roger.” You return. You keep an eye on Jungkook, but he’s lost in whatever’s going on in his head. What could have even happened to him? It’s been half a year since communications cut out—there’s no feasible way that whatever happened here isn’t connected to the radio silence. If Jungkook’s here, then are the rest at the main tower? Your stomach flips again and you pray that Jimin doesn’t find anything of note. You aren’t ready to consider what it means if he finds bodies.

You’re so caught up thinking that you jolt a little when he jogs past you for a second time, shaking his head.

“Clear. One more.”

“One more, hurry it up,” you urge. “This kid needs fed. And a bath.”

He doesn’t try to snap back with anything witty. Surely it’s impossible to be mad at something so obviously pitiful. It probably took everything Jungkook had to tackle him like that anyways. A single burst of terrified adrenaline. You doubt there’s any malice in him to begin with.

“That sound good, Jungkook?”

No answer.

“Get you washed up, some food in you? Nice and safe on the Epiphany?”

He only shakes, whispering hoarse apologies as if it could dispel the very shadows in the hallway with the vehemence of his prayer.

“No bodies,” Jimin pulls back up, stopping, hands going to his thighs. In this hallway, his voice feels oddly loud, taking up space otherwise occupied only by Jungkook’s muttering. He catches his breath, inhaling deeply, and you realize he has something in one hand, a strap wrapped about his palm, cradling something dark. “No bodies, no more huts. He’s left the rest of the rooms alone for the most part, except for the furniture. Look what I found instead, plugged into a screen in maintenance.”

“It’s a camera,” you pipe up, automatic. Confusion sinks in immediately after the words leave your mouth. Why would Jimin—

“Biology grade.”

Ah.

“The acquisition that Kim Taehyung put in just before touchdown.” You blink at it as Jimin nods, handing it over to you. He sniffs once, drawing his forearm under his nose again and gesturing at it as you look it over curiously. It’s in good condition, strangely enough. Fully charged, screen uncracked, no scuffs or scratches, even. You tuck it into your chest, feeling strangely hopeful at this fragile little object.

“The tower being down doesn’t mean they stopped recording—it just means that it stopped broadcasting.”

“You think maybe this’ll have something important on it?”

“A fight, maybe.” He nods again, straightening. Suddenly he twitches forward, but you register the feeling of a hand brushing your arm before he has the chance to react. You turn, holding your free arm out as a brace towards Jimin, looking at Jungkook again. He’s stood up now, on shaking legs, brow furrowed, eyes laser focused on the camera as if it were the center of his universe.

“N-no.” he says quietly. His hands inch forward, hesitant to touch you but persistent in some unspoken need.

“The camera?” you prompt, surprised. “Is it the camera?”

He nods, sniffs, sending raggedy hair flying. Briefly he meets your eyes with his own, red, puffy ones. Your heart shatters and you repress the desire to cry with him.

“Okay. Okay, Jungkook. I’ll give it back.”

He nods. Licks his painfully chapped lips as though nervous.

“But you have to come with us.”

His face contorts, knees buckling for a moment before he catches himself on the wall.

“No,” he mumbles. He’s oddly firm of tone with that one—perhaps there’s some fight left in him. Maybe the camera can solve more than one mystery after all.

“That’s the deal, okay? We leave here, we take you on board, and I’ll give it back. Okay?”

“N-no, no.” His chest starts heaving. His fingers are shaky where they’re clutching the camera strap. He’s more than capable of physically taking it from you, you’re sure. If you had to guess, you’d say he doesn’t want to risk harming it. He’s taken care of it all this time. Slow, deliberate, you slip your own fingers over his. Initially, he flinches at the contact, but eases into a mindless stare after a beat, eyes still fixed on the device.

“I promise. I promise it’s safe. We’ll go as slow as you need.”

He doesn’t reply.

But when you take a testing step forward, he hobbles quickly after you, scuffing his bare feet like a toddler chasing a promised sweet, swaying to a halt when you do, still sniffling intermittently.

“What do you think Hoseok’ll have to say about him?” Jimin asks quietly.

“I don’t know. I’m trying not to think about it. Can you find him a suit?...And maybe call Hoseok while you’re at it—I feel like this is going to take a while.”  

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[aion-rsa]

Vikings Season 6 Part Two Review (Spoiler-Free)

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This Vikings season 6 part two review is based on all 10 episodes and contains no spoilers.

Vikings has always been Ragnar Lothbrok’s (Travis Fimmel) story. First, we witnessed the rise of the man himself from farmer to visionary to earl to king to legend. Post-Ragnar, the show became an exploration of how Ragnar’s legend suffused and inhabited his sons, and the consequences of its interpretation upon enemies, frenemies, kith, kin and Kings the world over. And, now, the saga comes to an end with the second half of Vikings swansong sixth season, ten episodes that drip with all the blood, battles, tears, seers, fears, and philosophy you’ve come to expect from the History Channel’s flagship show (though this season will premiere on Amazon).    

It’s tough to write a spoiler-free review of a show like Vikings, especially here at the show’s conclusion where it won’t be surprising to learn that the blood flows like wine. Who lives, who dies? Who returns, who stays away? Even acknowledging the presence or absence of a surprise within a certain context could constitute a massive spoiler. As a consequence, much of this review will read like the ravings of the show’s very own seer, a web of insinuations and mystical mumbo jumbo designed only to make sense once the prophecy has been made flesh. 

Early in the season, Gunnhild (Ragga Ragnars) remarks: “Perhaps the Golden Age of the Vikings is gone.” This is a perfect distillation of the thematic ground covered by this half season. Here we have the fall of an empire, the erosion and sometimes amputation of the old ways, and the savage geo-surgery of a flailing world in flux. Absolute power corrupts absolutely; only the truly mad would seek to be king. The battle between paganism and Christianity, always at the forefront of the series, reaches its culmination here, and the episodes are awash with rich religious imagery and symbolism. There is also an answer, of sorts, to the question of which of Ragnar’s sons best embodies and encapsulates his legacy. Each of them carries a chunk of their father distilled within them: Ivar (Alex Høgh Andersen), his wrath, his thirst to conquer; Bjorn (Alexander Ludwig), his galvanizing spirit, his authority, his legend; Hvitserk (Marco Ilsø) , his pain, confusion and predilection for self-destruction; and Ubbe (Jordan Patrick Smith), his sense of adventure, his vision. Series creator and showrunner Michael Hirst knows that you come to these final episodes laden with ideas and expectations surrounding this philosophical set-to, and does a sterling job subverting or confirming them. His skill is in making the surprising seem inevitable, and the inevitable seem surprising.

Most of the Vikings’ world is bathed in blue and grey, an endless twilight of death and despair. Within these grim parameters the direction and cinematography never fails to evoke the beautiful, misty emptiness of the world: the howling of the wind on desolate hills; silence, smooth and dark, stretching towards the pale horizon. There are lots of sweeping aerial shots, which cast you, the audience, as Gods looking down on the action from above. The emotional distance this creates, especially above battlefields, reinforces the absurdity and futility of the bloodshed, something we’ve been encouraged to feel in every season, but never moreso than now. 

The season is front-loaded with some thrilling sequences (including a suitably chilling use of CGI), and at least one moment that will make the hairs stand up on your neck, and hot tears fall from your eyes. The mechanisms of plot necessarily predominate in the early episodes, as machination piles upon machination, twist upon turn, and the pieces of the tragedies and double-dealings to come are moved into place upon fate’s great chess-board: a broken Bjorn has tough choices to consider following his people’s defeat at the hands of the Rus; Ubbe embarks on a westward quest in search of the promised land; Ivar and Hvitserk continue their uneasy alliance with each other within the fraught principality of the maladjusted, half-mad Oleg (Danila Koslovsky). 

An accusation often leveled at Vikings is that it became a lesser show once divorced from Ragnar’s immediate orbit; that when he died, so too did the interest of many of the audience, who never quite took to his sons with the same level of enthusiasm. I can understand the hole that Ragnar’s exit left in the hearts of fans. He was a compelling, larger-than-life character, channeled with great charisma and presence by Travis Fimmel. But although this series is ostensibly about Ragnar, the story is also far, far bigger than him, a point this final season doesn’t fail to ram home. In fact, it’s the whole point.  Besides, the performances of Alexander Ludwig, Jordan Patrick Smith, Marco Ilsø, and Alex Høgh Andersen have always been uniformly excellent, generating more than enough presence, individually and collectively, to carry the show in Ragnar’s name. 

If there is a mote of truth in the accusation it’s probably attributable, in part at least, to the challenges of satisfying such a sprawling ensemble. One of the beneficial things about the show having shed so many characters over the past few seasons is that the sons now have proper time to grow, develop and, ultimately, crystallize. In particular Hvitserk, who was always the sketchiest and most ill-defined of the brothers, finally coalesces into something greater than the sum of his parts. Even his unhealthy attachment to Ivar begins to make sense, and comes to play an instrumental part in much of what makes the final stretch work so well. 

Ivar himself has always been a joy to watch – surely one of the greatest small-screen monsters – but occasionally he could be one-note, albeit largely thanks to his predilection for painting himself into a corner and then having to fight his way out again. Ivar’s relationship with, and to, the young Rus heir Igor (Oran Glynn O’Donovan) helps to humanize him, allowing him to recreate the better aspects of his own relationship with Ragnar, this time sans grand, King-busting plan. Ivar even demonstrates, from time to time, something approaching humility, which can’t be easy for a self-proclaimed God. Plus there’s a moment between Ivar and Katia (Alicia Agneson) that’ll have you punching the air in triumph, and then thinking strangely of yourself for having fist pumped such a thing. 

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TV

Why Vikings Is Ending

By Michael Ahr

Once the heavy gears of plot have cranked into place, the season dips into ennui, as characters drift, break down and take stock. This can make the season a slog to get through, especially if you’re binge-watching; like mainlining misery directly into your blood-stream. Even knowing that this was undoubtedly a deliberate structural choice – to make you feel the characters’ helplessness, heartache, angst and boredom; to understand what drives them to do what they do when Gods and men fall silent – you’re unlikely to emerge from the middle-to-end section brimming with vim and good cheer. Here, another central question is tackled: is there any escape from the seemingly endless cycle of death, destruction and revenge in which Viking society finds itself mired? What hope have Ragnar’s sons of escape when Ragnar himself, the most vocal advocate for a new way of doing things, ultimately perpetuated the cycle by posthumously siccing his sons on his enemies? 

The final act makes everything worthwhile. Think of the middle act like purgatory before Heaven (or should that be Valhalla)? While not every storyline feels like it has an equal place and weight in the pay-off – the latter sections in Kattegat, especially, feel perfunctory and will probably struggle to elicit much interest – most of the series’ overarching narrative and thematic threads come together perfectly in the end, giving a deeply satisfying sense of simultaneous closure and open-endedness.   

There are many surface similarities between Vikings and Game of Thrones, in terms of their stock-in-trade themes, settings, cast-counts, body-counts and bundles of R-rated violence. Where they differ significantly is in Vikings sticking the landing, and not just with the final episode – which is beautiful, elegiac and haunting – but over and throughout the whole final half of the season (give or take a few minor missteps).

Game of Thrones’ once stellar reputation will perhaps forever be sullied by an ending, and a final season that many felt was flat, rushed and cack-handed. This is not the fate that will befall Vikings, which, although it never attained critical, commercial or pop-culture success on anything like the same scale as Game of Thrones, now joins the pantheon of shows whose exemplary endings have cemented their legacies. Vikings can hold its head high among such luminaries as Rectify, The Affair, The Deuce, The Wire, The Sopranos (divisive as its ending proved), The Shield and Breaking Bad (pre El Camino, at least), having offered up a finale that is so resonant, dream-like, and profound that it serves retroactively to render all of the good things about the series better, and wash away any and all misgivings and doubts. It’s a gorgeous ending that will stick in your soul for a long time.

Bon voyage, Vikings. It’s been emotional.   

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