#the co-captains idea interests me a lot but i would want to dig into the original japanese dialogue before i take it seriously | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brockachu · 2 years

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i am absolutely suffering post wisdom tooth removal and i think i would be magically healed if you were to break down every nhl captain’s narrative for me

** if every captain is an unreasonable ask, i would in fact settle for our boy bowie 😌 or the most compelling narrative in your opinion

oh ooh i'm so glad you took me up on this. ok imma do a quick run-down of every narrative i know. and if anyone wants more detail, i can do follow-up ask posts. also, i hope your gums heal quickly & without complication 💖 i was a minor menace when i got my wisdom teeth removed so i respect that all you ask is some silly hockey stories 😂

running through the list alphabetically by team:

anaheim - technically, this is now vacant b/c their season is over & getzlaf is retired. he was co-rookies w/ corey perry, they inherited the team from teemu selanne, & they were on a kid line that helped get the ducks their single cup. he was promoted to captaincy for his early career glory and got the team close twice more (conference finals) but never quite. he got overshadowed by the other california team captains i think, even if i never cared much for him either. i don't know enough about the current ducks to even slightly guess at their next captain.

arizona - vacant. their last captain was OEL whose narrative was the guy whose time was always just a little too late -- he peaked just after the yotes core that was actually pretty good from 2009-2012; he was named captain after his career peaked, even tho he remained fan-beloved; he was traded away after his trade value had crashed. i think their next captain will be chychrun if he isn't traded, crouse if chychrun is traded, and no idea if both of them are traded. it's misery hours in the sonoran desert, babes.

boston - i'm sorry i spent so long refusing to learn about any bruin who isn't tuukka that the only things i know about bergeron is that his bestie is marchand and he wins the selke every year, even when he doesn't win it he does (i'm a canucks fan this is the first year i've mildly tolerated the bruins, given the 2011 cup finals)

buffalo - vacant. lmao y'all can dig my eichel tag if you wanna know that narrative i've only written several novellas about him this season. idk enough to guess the next captain. o @drartemysia wants it to be tage and i agree bc i think she deserves what she likes :)

calgary - vacant. giordano was the successor to iginla, which were impossible shoes to fill, but his whole thing was basically team's steadfast dad. if the next one isn't ratthew i'll be joining the trade ratthew campaign that i think many flames fans would start -- he's beloved, he's a character, he's grown so much from skillful pest with a dangerous edge to just flat out skillful pest (ignore this current playoff series, the stars are digging up old ratt). he'll have a lovely narrative about growing into the steady reliable legacy before him and giving it a new funky shine.

carolina - JORDAN. a Staal. the last time a staal led this team, they won their only cup, y'know. are they chasing their past b/c they keep coming up short these past few years? are they harnessing a legacy, uniting the past & present to make that leap? and jordy himself has changed a lot from the kid who won the cup w/ sid & the pens back in 2009. is he chasing youthful success or is he bringing experience to an otherwise young core? it's a juicy narrative w/ fun lil callbacks. also he's their dad :)

chicago - it's unfortunate that this entire org is irredeemable b/c the captaincy narrative around toews actually was an interesting story, but it's inseparable from pkane and the org, and it should be reframed knowing he as captain was aware of the beach allegations & treatment by the team (org & players). also i only know this narrative bc one of my undergrad bffs is a born & raised chicagoan. so i'm not going to give toews or chicago a blurb when they deserve to be dismantled.

colorado - i don't like landeskog. you can check here for why. not gonna write this one either. if i speak more i will be in big trouble.

columbus - boone!! the cbj captaincy has long been been mildly cursed -- nothing truly bad happens to them, but they're always just kind of forgotten about. boone was considered kind of an unexpected pick, b/c he's not a big star, he's not one of the local boys, and he's just super mild. but in that way, maybe he's another in a line of tradition -- unassuming, a calm head, a steady hand. the cbj captaincy story is the quiet story of persistence

dallas - haha no i'm not gonna make a fun story for benn when half the stars fans i know don't even like him either. call me when robo inherits the captaincy.

detroit - larkin is one of the captains i am least normal about in the entire league. he was drafted to be the captain. i'm not kidding. stevie y clapped his eyes on this kid from michigan who grew up a drw fan, this kid who has always been spoken of as responsible and a leader, this determined happy excited-just-to-be-here kid; and stevie said 'yeah that's our guy'. he was drafted and primed to be the captain and everyone knew it from the second he was picked, tho we were always a little worried 'what if they don't tho'. it was a relief when they finally stitched the c to his chest. the throne was always his, the captains before him agreed so. there's a quote from zetterberg about giving larks something that had been passed down from past captains, before the captaincy was made official. larks tried to tell zetta it wasn't his officially, zetta told him 'take it it's yours we all agree'. we as in the previous captains who are all still involved in the org. yeah i've cried about it.

edmonton - oh my god this captaincy is haunted and i'm not qualified to discuss it i hope mcdavid learns exorcism but also i think this org needs a whole overhaul. mcdavid is a child king appointed too soon based on prophecy and maybe fate is inescapable but it is never straight forward. what parts of your soul are you willing to rend to fight fate, what parts of your soul are you willing to rend to let fate take its course? how do you know destiny is for you? wasn't it supposed to be hall, supposed to be nugent hopkins, supposed to be yakupov?

florida - like i said i know nothing about barkov besides his lifelong bestie is pate laine, my beloved son :) he seems like a nice dude, maybe i'll learn the story there one day

los angeles - ooh kopitar is fun. to many, he's the captain who should've been. the thing is, dustin brown was captain during the kings' peaks in the mid 2010s & they won their 2 cups. brown had been drafted & raised by the kings, he's now retiring as a lifelong king. kopi was there almost the whole time. brown was always attributed with leadership qualities in juniors & w/ team usa, but kopi is The Slovenian Player -- he's captained their teams since he was a teen. he's also been a long time best kings player, while brown has mainly been middle six character piece. but the kings raised brown to be the captain, so he remained the captain & the players did respect & love him as captain. still, there was always a thread of 'what about kopitar tho', and when brown's core floundered and were slowly traded away, his captaincy was stripped. as the team unoffically leaned into a rebuild, kopi was named new captain. he's steadier, he's good with the kids, he's finally getting his flowers. there's still a lot of respect left for brown (see: he was captain for a day to commemorate his impending retirement), but he luckily bowed out. kopi's captaincy is a narrative of patience & knowing when change is necessary. i'm so fond of it

minnesota - spurgeon is one of those guys that ppl outside of the minny-sphere don't discuss much. he's quietly a Good Hockey Player (stats ppl are like him a lot). it's hard to follow the captaincy of Mikko Koivu, one of the most respected players in league history, a perennial member of the 'guys who'd have a cup on any other team' club, who could only stomach playing 7 games for another team before retiring as essentially a lifelong wild. spurge is the story of loyalty, of duty.

montreal - uuh technically it's still webs but i soft boycotted the habs when he was traded there (not his fault, i was mad about pk & galchenyuk & bergevin's administration) & only mildly got nicer to them this season after they finally got rid of bergevin. so the last habs captain narrative i knew well was patch, which i am very bitter about still. and giving respect to my habs friends, i will not go down that path here. i hope suzuki gets the captaincy soon. that will be a nice tale and i think my buddy amanda @st-louis will be the best person to tell it.

nashville - josi is interesting. he's maybe a captain who was never meant to be a captain. weber was expected to retire in nashville, but things went sour in the mid-2010s after suter signed to minny in free agency and weber seemed to need a new environment and the org had seemingly lost their patience with him. so he got traded for subban & fisher was given captaincy to warm the seat. josi was still relatively young through these struggles. he's a prince that no one expected to inherit bc the king was healthy and strong and so beloved so blessed so steadfast. and for years now, with josi as captain, the preds continue to surpass expectations (admittedly mostly by the grace of their goalies). hehe he's the little captain that could :)

new jersey - friends, we have another boy king in our midst (the league loves these). hischier was a 1oa in what was at the time considered an underwhelming draft. the devs had been considered identity-less ever since brodeur's trade in 2014 and later retirement in 2015. there's still lingering speculation that hischier was appointed too soon to inject any sense of identity into this team. we are still seeing this core be built. the narrative is a kid was given an impossible task and he's quietly solving this puzzle with the help of the friends he made along the way. i'm genuinely hopeful for the devs' future

isles - anders lee was never meant to be captain!! i love his bland boy next door quadzilla himbo ass so much but he is a second son. johnny said 'fuck you dad i never wanted to be an isle take the family business and shove it' (this is a joke, i'm neutral to fond about tavares, but i think the isles memes about him are kinda funny), so lou lamariello rubbed a weary hand down his face, peaked between his fingers at anders just twiddling his thumbs at the back of the board room and went, 'ok bud do you want a whack at it'.

rangers - vacant. this should be kreider and i can write that narrative when it happens, tho others will be much more qualified, but all i have to say is this should be kreider

ottawa - i'm sorry i've spent so long lowkey laughing at the sens that i have no idea what background narrative led to brady tkachuk getting this captaincy. i do know there is currently a kerfuffle about chabot being named team canada captain for worlds, which i guess is raising the known-to-sens-fans controversy that maybe he should've gotten the captaincy over tkachuk? maybe this is a coup narrative. maybe the crown was usurped! i am not aware of the palace intrigue but if anyone wants to tell me the tale i will gladly listen and share your verses in the future. i'm a silly lil jester, a traveling bard :)

philly - haha vacant haha no i'm not writing this up, all you need to know about the flyers captaincy is this video i made before claude's inevitable trade

pitt - psssshhh i'm a flyers fan y'all don't want me to write the pens captain narrative lmao but basically sid is the chosen one, he's what mcdavid was supposed to be to edmonton, he's won 3 cups for them, raised the team out of bankruptcy on his star power. he's a superhero story, ups and downs and inhuman ability

san jose - couture wasn't supposed to be captain but both joes fled the shark tank and he's what's left and half of sharks fans don't even like him anyway. i can't write this one, buds

seattle - lmao vacant b/c giordano went to toronto this org is still fledgling and messy, but boy they're trying it's like watching my parents' young chickens run around, fond and illogical, no sense of a plan about them. i want their next captain to be mccann. if the rivalry with the canucks ever finds its feet, it'll be fun for them to have a captain who was our scorned former draftee

st louis - ngl i forgot o'reilly was their captain until this moment. i knew petro was gone bc uuhh i love that dude. i don't know this narrative, sorry

tampa - steven stamkos was almost given up on and i'll remember that forever. he inherited from lecavalier & st louis, a heavy cloak of a legacy to wear. drafted by hockey savant steve yzerman, raised for the captaincy, given so much patience and surrounded by consistently one of the best built teams year in and year out. cup finals and conference finals and record breaking point seasons. when the bolts were swept by cbj in 2019, a massive crack seemed to appear in the durably beautifully carefully crafted vase. there were rumors that the core would be torn apart and sold, that stammer would sign back home in toronto, that the bolts were a failed experiment. but they stayed the course and what would you know fate smiled upon them with back to back cups. this is a feel good fairytale of patience and loyalty and persistence and all the 'cap circumvention' boo babies can cry outside the city walls

toronto - you can't tell this story without telling the recent isles' story, but actually you can't tell this story without 60 years of maple leaf history & maybe a degree in canadian history. if the edmonton captaincy is haunted, the leafs are something quieter, not actively marauding them quite as much, but ages longer and with a million more eyes on them for it. tavares' leaf captaincy is a very old ghost story or maybe a multiverse story. i don't know it well enough to tell it tho

vancouver - beloveds oh beloveds. captain bowie horvat, our collective son. we knew when he was drafted he would be the next captain. we weren't sure, but we knew. the sedins stayed lifelong canucks, they raised bo to the captaincy, they protected him as long as they could, and they retired. we were so certain he'd be given captaincy immediately, but the org kept it as an extra out for appeasement as the team sunk and sunk and sunk. but we're getting somewhere now and our new management has expressed confidence in bo. bo was the last canuck to be given an animal nickname, which was a staple of the sedin era (his name was bison). did you know the entire team called him cap even before he was named captain? it was an open secret with the media for like a year. there's official canucks videos with guys calling him cap the season before he was named captain. he's who the people always wanted and he's who the people were happy to receive. i don't acknowledge anyone who doesn't want him to stay as captain. his captaincy is a love story -- he was raised in the gentleness of the sedins, he was always meant to be here, he'll gently lovingly steer us forward. his captaincy is romantic.

vegas - oh this is not my story to tell. oli @himbeaux-on-ice is our resident mark stone enthusiast and i'm almost certain they've written up several detailed posts about stoney's path to the captaincy. please explore their blog with wild abandon bc they are one of the reasons i've grown the confidence to make more of these wildly long and winding narrative posts (same of other's i've tagged in this post)

washington - like crosby and mcdavid, who does not already know this narrative? but tldr, ovechkin was drafted & appointed in defiance of hockey culture's respectability politics. is he of course very very very good at hockey? yes, but the hockey media machine wasn't sure it was 'enough' for years. the narrative is spite, the narrative is defiance, the narrative is being who you are no matter who likes it, the narrative is insisting on yourself. one of my fav caps narrative ppl (actually she's generally post-soviet hockey narratives, but she's a caps fan also) is g @csykora. idr if she's written much on ovechkin specifically, b/c my memory is more conceptual than data, but please read her writing as it also inspires me to indulge my narrative whims.

winnipeg - oh what a one to end on. this captaincy may be ending soon. we don't know what winny is doing, do we? mr wheeler's captaincy is the story of a faithful soldier. he has done everything the org asked of him, done his best, bit his tongue, faced the twists and turns of the path with a strong brow and steady step. winny is staring down the barrel of potentially blowing up its core, and no one expected it to go this way. maybe they're the trojans, a stronghold we never thought could fall so dramatically. (maybe i've been reading too much of o's greek myths lmao)

in conclusion: lmao why is this all in my head. if you read all of this, i respect and appreciate you so much. and apologies to my tagged beloveds, you're not entitled to read this i just want to send love your way <3

#long post #aily talks #asks #oh lmao how do i even tag this pssssshhhhh my ass always making uncategorizable posts and then twiddling my thumbs in the tags #narratives

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split-and-deviate · 3 years

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chapter 149 panel analysis:

i'm really just,,, digging deep into nothing right now but

i really like this panel?

it's interesting to see the correlations between the three pieces of advice given here, and the person giving them.

(analysis under the cut)

point 1: stay away from rukia, for your own benefit. she knows it herself- she's in a place we can't reach anymore.

point 2: your goal to surpass your captain is admirable, but it WILL be difficult.

point 3: it's easier to let things fall apart than to hold them together.

so i sorted out the speech bubbles by each speaker to make things easier (kira is yellow, ikakku is orange, yumi is purple).

so for point 1, kubo gave it to kira.

i'm not really gonna go too deep into kira, since i haven't really gone into his character that much (but whatever i do say might still very well be wrong so please feel free to correct me).

there isn't really much to go by, since a lot of his development occurs AFTER aizen and co's betrayal, but we could see that even before that happened, he still chose a harsher viewpoint than most.

his kinda harsh advice could be due to him recently becoming a shinigami (we can assume this since his progress was matched with both renji's and momo's. we know that renji has become a shinigami from the shihakusho he's wearing in the panel, and we also know that this was a recent development due to this occuring not too soon after rukia was chosen for adoption, where he was still wearing the academy attire).

we can also assume that he's still pretty close to renji at this point, since he's taking the initiative to go to renji, trying his best to avoid his friend getting hurt due to holding any false hopes.

also, it might be worth noting that he used a plural pronoun when saying "she's in a completely different place from us", so he could trying to lighten the burden from renji by saying that " don't worry, we're all going to be affected and we're all going to deal with it together" which is neat of him.

finally, kubo also probably chose kira of all people to further emphasise that they're being made to move on from each other, since it's been established that kira, renji and momo were all friends that renji himself made in the academy, unlike rukia who was a friend from the rukongai.

anyways! that's really all i could find for kira from these panels (though i'm pretty sure there's more).

but moving on,,,,

for point 2, kubo assigned it to ikkaku.

i think for this it's not too hard to realise why kubo chose ikkaku for this part.

when it comes to goals, ikkaku is definitely the man to go to, what with his "i wanna fight and die under kenpachi" (though this very probably changed later on but that's another discussion entirely).

him expressing doubt could show how he holds others to a separate standard than himself- he might not be able to accept his own failure, or himself giving up, but when it comes to others he can accept that they have their limits.

it also furthers the discouraging tone of this panel; ikkaku- known for being headstrong and determined- referred to his goal as "tough to reach".

however, with him saying that "it's a tough goal to reach", it also shows that he's less unrealistically stubborn (thought still pretty unrealistically stubborn) in comparison to his rukongai days.

and finally...

point 3- the final point- is given to yumichika.

yumichika,,,, how do i even start with him?

so kubo gave this point- arguably the most pessimistic out of the three point- to yumichika.

we only met him recently (in chapter 85, in comparison to this in chapter 149), so whilst reading this it could simply be seen as a friend giving wisdom.

but after finishing the series and seeing his development, especially in terms of his zanpakuto, another interpretation can crop up (amongst others, ofc, but this one is the one i personally choose to go with).

"tearing 'it' apart is always easier than making 'it'."

and what relationship do we know of that which has had it's terrible lack of stability very heavily emphasised in yumichika's life?

ruri'iro kujaku.

if we read this under the assumption that yumi is talking from his own experience, then this could further expand on exactly how yumichika's relationship with his zanpakuto was.

(i'm gonna break the sentence down bit by bit, and it's gonna be a bit backwards so i apologise).

"making it" implies that he could have tried his best to bargain with ruri'iro, since i really doubt he wanted to sour his bond with his zanpakuto (no matter how badly he disliked the idea of disappointing ikkaku and his squad).

"is always easier than" shows that this was a difficult process, and though he may have tried his hardest to make it work out, forcing his zanpakuto away would never have worked out for either of them. the word "always" shows how he has repeatedly tried and tried again to somehow make it work, but to no avail.

"tearing it apart" would then represent the 'final' outcome (final is surrounded by quotation marks since there's a very high chance that their broken bond was somewhat fixed in time for tybw, as seen in chapter 592).

(i cannot even begin to describe how many feelings i have rn okay)

he must have struggled hard to hold onto his beautiful zanpakuto, okay. imagine how torn he must have been during the beginning, where he found out his shikai was kidou. fighting between a part of his soul, or his heart; it must have been agonising.

this entire piece of advice was basically charged by those memories, and could be kubo's way of providing a further explanation for the yumi-ruri'iro relationship (though i doubt it).

so yeah! that's my interpretation of this panel! i'm so sorry that i ended up going off on a tangent about yumichika!

#renji #izuru #ikkaku #yumichika #abarai renji #kira izuru #madarame ikkaku #ayasegawa yumichika #analysis #sort of #bleach #s.txt #it's a bit messy and all over the place #tbh this entire thing was just me giving myself an excuse to ramble about yumichika #in my own defense #i didn't mention ikkayumi ONCE

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fallingforyou123 · 3 years

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You Will Never Be A God-Une

Warnings: Slight language, implied smut, alight angst

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Here is the official part one! Hope you'll like it, reblogs and feedback are always appreciated!

Series Masterpost

The sheets hung loosely around her frame, the only thing keeping her from being exposed to the cold air. The stranger laid beside her in a dazed out state, chest rising ever so slowly. A small cloud of smoke engulfed the both of them, a bad habit Stevi had picked up from an ex of hers.

“Those will kill you one day.”

“No more than sleeping with strangers will.”

“Touche.”

Stevi moved to get dressed, keeping quiet to avoid another conversation. Leaving was always bad, but leaving when there was still so much to be said was the worst. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was a feeling, something small sitting in her gut. It worried her, she’d never felt like this with a stranger. So safe and comfortable.

“Stay. Just till the morning, I’ll have my driver take you home.” Came the voice from the other side of the bed.

“No, definitely no. I have rules, no names, no staying. I can’t”

“What a lonely life you must live, to disconnect so much from those around you.”

Stevi looked at him, truly looked at him. He looked so much different than the man she met a couple hours ago. His perfectly gelled hair was nothing more than a brown mess atop his head, his eyes were clouded with a sleepy haze, and his suit had been replaced by a very thin sheet. He looked like someone she could see herself falling for back in university, she had to remind herself that this was a man with a lot of money, someone she’d probably dig up dirt on for an article.

She shook her head, she needed to leave.

After she finished dressing, she grabbed her bag from the front room and slipped out the door. Checking her phone she saw a couple missed calls from Brooke and an enthusiastic ‘be safe!’ text from Poppy. She quickly both, ensuring them that she was not dead in a ditch somewhere, before ordering an uber and hoping in the elevator.

***

The rest of the weekend had gone by in a blur. She’d spent all of Saturday nursing her hangover with ice cream and old reruns of Golden Girls in bed. Then Sunday was brunch with the girls at a little cafe where she was forced to share every detail of the events that unfolded Friday night, only leaving out how weird she had felt in the strangers' company. And then all too soon she was getting ready for a week of meetings and interviews.

Walking into the office, Stevi was greeted by her boss informing her that her 11am was now Stevi’s and ‘oh, look, he’s early.’ She mentally groaned, there was not enough caffeine in the world to make this worth it. Don’t get her wrong, Stevi loved her job, but god did she hate her boss. She was flakey, and whenever anything didn’t appeal to her, she’d simply give it to Stevi with barely any notice. There were far too many nights that she had to stay late because she was given a column to write only hours before it was due.

With a heavy sigh, she walks into the conference room, hoping that this won’t last long. “Good morning, my name is Stevi, I’ll be doing the interview today since Diane couldn’t be here.”

“Rule one.”

She whips her head up towards the man, “What?”

It’s in that moment that she realizes who this is, the man from Friday night. And coincidentally, Tom Holland. She should’ve known the other night who he was, his name and face had been plastered on the bulletin board for weeks, one of their most anticipated interviews this year. Tom was not only a pretty face, but the youngest CEO to be running an international company in decades. His father had started Holland and Co. Publishing almost 30 years ago, and only a few months ago he handed it over to Tom.

“I said, rule one darling. You’ve broken it.” She’d forgotten how lovely that voice was, remembering how captivating it was to have him whispering in her ear.

“I heard what you said, Mr. Holland.”

“Call me Tom, you’ve more than earned that privilege.”

“This is my place of work, not some stupid nightclub, I keep things professional here.”

Neither of them take their eyes off the other, a silent war taking place between the two of them.

“Well, if you’re such a professional, stop looking at me like you’re wanting to fuck me.”

A small gasp leaves Stevi. She stands up to leave, gathering her things, and looks at him with venom in her eyes, “Mr. Holland, I’m afraid that this interview is over, if you would please talk to the receptionist she will reschedule you in with someone other than me.”

A small look of shock crosses Tom’s face before he too stands, reaching out to grab Stevi’s arm, “Wait, I'm sorry. Sit down, I’ll be civil.”

Reluctantly, she does. Placing her notebooks in front of her and pulling out the recorder. Before she begins she gives Tom a warning look, “One word, one single word out of line, and this is over.” To which he nods and sits back, hands folded in his lap, looking like a true business man.

***

The rest of the interview goes by smoothly, only a couple of suggestive looks being thrown her way before he bites his tongue. Stevi’s never been more relieved to finish something in her life, the tension between the two becoming almost unbearable as the interview went on. “Okay, I think that’s all we need for the article, a draft will be sent to your assistant to go over before we publish it in next week's business column.”

Stevi stands quickly, ready to put everything behind her and spend the rest of her day hiding in her office. Before she can leave, a hand is wrapped around her arm once again, and body right behind her. “Let me take you to dinner, darling. A reward for being good.”

The voice in her ear sends a shiver down her spine, and for a second she debates it, “Tom, I can’t. I don’t mix business with pleasure, this is already a conflict of interest.”

“More of those damn rules. Live a little, let your guard down for once.” He looks at her with pleading eyes, something that makes him look more like his true age. That feeling sneaks its way back into again, and for a moment, while she stares into his eyes, nothing else exists. Just the two of them and a world of possibilities.

“If I say yes, this stays between us. The people we are here, and the people we are then are not the same. My job may not seem dangerous to you, but it could be very bad for me if someone gets the wrong idea.”

Tom nods, he knows all too well what she means. “Tonight at 7, meet me at The Garden on 22nd, I’ll make the reservation.”

She agrees, lets him put his number in her phone, and gives Tom one last smile before heading down the hall to her office.

She jumps when she sees someone sitting at her desk, “James, what are you doing here?”

“What, can’t check in on my favourite captain?”

“Not without a secret agenda, and last I checked, I have nothing to report to you, I’m off duty.” Stevi walks towards him, pushing his legs off of her desk.

“Ah, sweetheart, you’re never off duty. Not when you’re talking to men like that.” James points out the door, to where Tom can be seen talking to the receptionist.

“That is none of your business, James.”

“I want details, everything you can find out about him, on my desk by Friday, you know what’ll happen if it’s not. Have a good day Stevi.” And with that, James walks out of the room, leaving a chill hanging in the air.

Stevi suddenly can’t breathe, the four walls surrounding her feeling like a cage. She quickly grabs her things and walks to Dianes’ office, telling her there’s a family emergency and she’ll work on the article at home. Within minutes she’s scrambling to get into her car, dialing Poppys’ number, needing someone to calm her down.

She spends the rest of the day on Poppys’ couch trying to recover from her near mental breakdown. This life was never something she wanted, she’d been dragged into it by her ex. After he failed to complete a simple task, he was killed in their apartment, and she was responsible for finishing it out. But it’s never that simple, one task turned into two, and then four, and now she was too far in to be able to leave.

All too soon, it was 6:30 and she was leaving for her date with Tom. She’d left Poppys an hour ago, promising her that there was nothing to worry about, it had just been a bad day. She drove in silence, not wanting to focus on anything but the road. She got to the restaurant right on time, quickly being seated in one of the private rooms. She’d been here once before with her parents when she first moved to the city. They’d taken her out to celebrate and they’d spent the night drinking fancy wine and eating more food than they could’ve ever imagined.

Lost in her memories, she didn’t realise how much time had passed since she’d arrived. Checking her phone she saw that it was now quarter past, and no sign of Tom. She tries texting him, thinking maybe he’d gotten off of work late. By 7:30 she starts to panic, she’s 2 glasses of wine in and still no sign of him. To no avail, she calls him, worry turning into anger when it goes straight to voicemail.

It’s almost 8 when the waiter informs her that Tom has called, he won’t be making it, but to order whatever she likes and he’ll pay for it.

And so she sits there, wine glass in hand, wishing she’d never even met Tom.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland series #tom holland x oc #mob!tom holland x reader #tom holland and co

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incognitajones · 3 years

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the ninth ficlet of Christmas

Long story: so first, @doptimous prompted me with “huddling for warmth” which is something I’ll write at the drop of a hat. And I was halfway through that when I realized it would make a suitable follow up to this (which is an off-cut from my RCSS story that didn’t fit with the direction it ended up going).

Anyway! Here’s part one, part two to follow tomorrow.

“I’m not Andor’s mother. Or yours,” Jyn snapped. “Why the pfassking hell are you asking for my permission to hit on him?”

She was one more syllable away from hauling off and punching the new recruit, and she must have looked it, because Dilek backed away and raised his hands as though he were trying to placate an angry Wookiie. “Yeah, yeah, I get that. I just wasn’t five by five on how things are between you two, okay? Didn’t want to step on anyone’s tail.” He smiled, too broad and conciliatory, in a way that signalled he wasn’t trying to start a fight.

She rolled her eyes, disgusted. “There isn’t anything between us. If what you’re really trying to ask is whether we’re fucking—none of your business, and I wouldn’t lead with that when you talk to Cassian. But hey, it’s your funeral.”

The corrosive note of jealousy in her voice seemed obvious to Jyn, but Dilek only smiled broader. “Great. Thanks, Erso.” He tossed her a thumbs up gesture and jogged off down the icy corridor.

Jyn shoved her hands in her pockets and dug her chin into the collar of her parka. Sometimes, it seemed like she and Cassian must be the only two Rebels on Hoth who weren’t fucking. The entire base was riddled with ill-advised hookups, from the pilots to the kitchen detail.

Sure, she was sleeping with him, but again, everyone did that on Hoth. If Jyn wasn’t shivering in bed next to Cassian, she had Bodhi clinging to her like a mynock. Once she’d even bunked in with Baze and Chirrut—who were possibly the only ones comfortable at all times on this ball of ice, since they’d had years of meditation practice to help them in regulating their core temperature. And everyone wore multiple layers at all times, even in bed, so there was nothing titillating about sleeping with Cassian. Comfort was all Jyn was after; she didn’t allow herself to think about peeling off his jacket, fatigues, and thermals to discover whether they could keep each other just as warm with fewer clothes.

So she didn’t have any patience for a horny kid right now, especially not after the three standard weeks she’d just spent hunting an Imperial special forces group—miserable, sleepless work on humid jungle planets crawling with venomous creatures. If she’d been a little curt with this moron who thought he had to get her permission before finding out whether Cassian was up for an hour of horizontal recreation, who could blame her?

Jyn hoped she’d never have to know the outcome; she certainly didn’t intend to witness the punchline to this joke. But she just happened to be in the hangar the next morning, trapped behind a slow-moving tech trying to juggle six datapads that required the head mechanic’s thumbprint. So she was only a metre or so away when Dilek hit on Cassian, who deflected so smoothly the kid didn’t even realize he’d been rejected.

He was persistent, she’d give him that. He asked again, hinting more broadly, and Cassian gave him a devastatingly blank look. She couldn’t hear his answer that time, but Dilek recoiled. His head dropped and he slunk away, all his confidence instantly deflated. It was so brutal that Jyn actually winced.

She should have kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t any of her business either. But she felt irrationally responsible, as though she hadn’t done enough to discourage Dilek. Once Kay had gone to recharge in the cargo hold and the two of them were alone in the cockpit, she looked sideways at Cassian and said, “You didn’t have to be mean to the kid. All he wanted was a date.”

Cassian’s exhale wasn’t long enough to be a sigh, but it still carried an edge of weary annoyance. “He didn’t want a date, he wanted bragging rights. A chance to boast about how he nailed the deadly spy.”

Jyn flinched at the cold judgment in Cassian’s tone. She’d never heard that from him before. Did he really have such a low opinion of anyone who wanted him? Is that what he’d think she was after, if she ever tried...?

“Come on, Jyn,” he said, misinterpreting her silence. “You know what I’m talking about—you must have seen it in the Partisans. There’s a certain type of recruit who thinks they have to be tougher than everyone else. And if they can’t take enough risks in the field, they try to prove how dangerous they are by hanging out with killers. That’s all I am to him: a trophy.”

Jyn shrugged. “Maybe.” She still thought he was being a little harsh.

“You think I was too hard on him?” His hands paused on the controls, and he looked at her incredulously.

Jyn’s mouth twisted into a bitter line as it struck her how ridiculous it was for her to encourage Cassian to sleep around. But frankly, she’d be relieved if he started fucking his way through the whole Rebellion (like the Antilles kid, who seemed intent on carving a notch into his X-wing for every pilot on base) as long as it made him happy. Because he wasn’t.

She knew him well enough to know he wasn’t in a good way. There was a ragged, jittery edge to his presence—Cassian, who could stay calmer when necessary than anyone else she’d ever known—that was new and disturbing. He carried himself with his shoulders constantly tensed, like someone waiting for a bomb to go off.

She couldn’t say that, though, so she just shrugged again. “If you’re not interested, you’re not. But it’s not so strange for him to want to get his rocks off with someone he has a crush on.” She hesitated, but she still felt a little guilty. “Besides, it’s partly my fault. Dilek asked me and I more or less told him to go for it.”

“He asked you?” The pre-flight checks were completely forgotten now as he stared at her.

Jyn winced. Stars, why had she brought up this cursed topic anyway? “He had some dumb idea that we were an item. So yeah, he asked me.”

Cassian’s hands began moving over the instrument panel again, but he didn’t say anything. And unlike their usual silences, this one was not comfortable.

Fine. She was this deep in a hole, she might as well keep digging. “You need to do something to take the edge off, Captain. I don’t care what, or who, but if you can’t find some way to relax, you’re wound so tight you’re going to snap.”

“In your professional opinion?” Oh, if she’d thought his voice was icy before, now it was flatter and colder than the glaciers outside.

“Yeah.” Jyn didn’t raise her voice either, but it was sharp enough to draw blood. “In my professional opinion, as someone who’s seen a lot of soldiers crash and burn.”

“Thank you for the suggestion, Sergeant Erso. I’ll take it under advisement.”

Jyn clenched her jaw to keep back more vicious words. Instead of cursing at him, she unbuckled her harness, got up from her seat and went to be with Kay in the hold. Cassian didn’t really need a co-pilot anyway, and if she stayed here she’d just wind up saying something else she’d regret. Like pleading with him, why not me?

[ part two ]

#prompt fills #jyn x cassian #T for profanity #my fic

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365days365movies · 3 years

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May 7, 2021: TRON (1982)

Starting to leave lo-fi sci-fi with this one.

Can I just say, I am VERY excited for this one. Mostly because it’s hard to get more ‘80s than this movie, specifically in terms of computers. I’ll explain. Y’know Jurassic Park? Yeah, the same movie I’ve brought up far, FAR too many times this month. Is...is that my favorite sci-fi movie? Shit, it might be? I’ve read the books, I’ve seen the movie COUNTLESS times...I’m pretty sure it is! Huh. Go figure. Anyway, where was I?

Oh, right! Remember the most irritating character in the movie? This is, in my opinion, older sister Lex Murphy. In the book, for the record, she’s a VERY different character. She’s the youngest sibling amongst the two, and she’s a sports nerd who hates dinosaurs. And she’s also the most annoying character in the book, so at least they kept that consistent. However, you may be saying to yourself: “Jesus, this dude really loves Jurassic Park. Even in the intro for Tron, he’s talking about it. Why the hell does he keep bringing it up?”

Well, allow me to explain. When I was 9 years old, I was super into two things: dinosaurs and reading. You may think that I wasn’t very popular in school as a result. And the truth won’t surprise you. Anyway, on January 3rd, 2001, it was a cold morning in the supermarket when

...OK, lemme get to the point. IT’S A UNIX SYSTEM!

See, this moment when Lex hacks into the computer to reactivate the locks (a task given to Tim in the book, but whatever) does two things. One, it makes Lex relevant in a film and story where she’s almost entirely unneeded. And two, it established something in the minds of movie-watchers everywhere: a completely misguided idea of what computer programming is.

And this is just one of MANY examples of Hollywood weirdly representing computers to the public. This was kind of a trend throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s, as computers were beginning to become available to the public. Examples are:

WarGames (1983), dir. John Badham

Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991), dir. James Cameron

Revenge of the Nerds (1984), dir. Jeff Kanew

Weird Science (1985), dir, John Hughes

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), dir. Russo Bros

That last one isn’t a great example, and it’s not even within the right time period. I just love Arnim Zola, and he NEEDS TO RETURN to the MCU. Goddamn it, I want this guy back, complete with his full robot body! COME ON FIEGE, LOOK AT THIS GUY! That last one may or may not be my fanart for the character with my own design NEVERTHEGODDAMNLESS!

Look, all you gotta do is connect the various machinations of Arnim Zola to the foundations of AIM, which is easy given their link in the comics. Zola and his fellow Paperclip scientists helped fund Aldrich Killian’s AIM, and the project to give Zola his sick-ass robot body eventually wound up being a part of the project that would create the hovering robotic chair used by this guy.

THIS IS ALL I’VE EVER WANTED PLEASE

...Ahem.

Anyway, the weird-ass ways that Hollywood’s represented computers, hacking, and all other associated things can be traced back to 1982, when the first film to use mostly computer generated imagery for its setting was created. This was, of course, Disney’s TRON. And while I haven’t seen it before...I’ve see its sequel in theaters?

On a related note, Tron Legacy might be a mediocre film with a mediocre soundtrack, but GODDAMN DO IT LOVE THE FUCKING VISUALS. It’s genuinely my favorite aesthetic. That whole “outlined in light” thing? Goooooooh, BABY, how I love it.

Style over substance, but OH THE FUCKING STYLE

Anyway, despite that, I’m looking forward to seeing where the whole thing came from. I dig that style, too. Is there a name for those aesthetics? Let me know, so I can devote my life to it forever. Anyway, shall we get started?

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

So, we start this movie off with a BANG, jumping into an arcade where two kids are playing none other than Lightcycle, and jumping into said Lightcycles to meet one of the drivers, Sark (David Warner). A sadistic program, he takes great pleasure in executing programs in Lightcycle races.

One of these programs, in fact, is being brought into imprisonment now, to be set against Sark in a race. The program, Crom (Peter Jurasik), speaks with fellow prisoner Ram (Dan Shor), where we get some idea of the lore of this place. Many programs believe in “the Users”, god-like figures who they believe created them and tell them what to do. However, the mysterious Master Control Program is rounding up the programs that believe in Users, taking over their functions or executing them. Diggin’ the lore so far.

In the real world, we meet Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges), a computer programmer commanding his own program, Clu (also Bridges), and...look, I’m not sure what they’re doing, but OHHH. IT’S A UNIX SYSTEM, BABY. The beautiful bullshit that this movie uses to denote computer activity and programming, it’s...MMMMMMMMMCHEF’SKISS, it’s so FUCKING GOOD!

Anyway, Clu’s apparently being sent to find some information, but he’s caught by Master Control. Jeff Bridges shows off some pretty over-the-top acting, but it’s charming as hell. Clu’s interrogated by Master Control Program (also Warner), and killed, or “derezzed”. This frustrates Flynn, but why?

Well, we get a clue from MCPs concentration with Ed Dillinger (David Warner), who arrives at his office in the COOLEST FUCKING HELICOPTER I HAVE EVER SEEN. I will never make enough money to have this helicopter, but maybe one day I can do it to a car, holy shit. Anyway, Dillinger lands and enters the ENCOM building, where he speaks with his computer table, which contains MCP.

Is this a thing with computer programmers? Do they, like, physically talk to their programs, and the programs talk back? Is this a thing that happens? Are the conversations interesting? Are IT people literally computer-whisperers? I gotta talk to my friends in computer sciences and IT about this.

Apparently, Flynn’s been snooping around their servers for a specific file, and they’re trying to stop him from getting that file. Meanwhile, in an office in the building, a man named Alan Bradley (Bruce Boxleitner) is blocked out of the system in an attempt to flush out Flynn’s location. Bradley’s summoned to the office for what seems like a routine interview, but is actually more of an investigation. Doesn’t go anywhere.

On a side note, by the way, it would appear that MCP is somewhat in control of Dillinger. Although, how and why is unknown. In any case, he’s attempting to amass power. Additionally, the fact that he’s directly speaking to one of the Users is...interesting. And on a second side note, Bradley is preparing something, a security program called “Tron”. That might come up later.

MEANWHILE, elsewhere in the building, a group of scientists are conducting an experiment to digitize solid matter and transport it into computers. It succeeds with an orange, much to their delight and celebration. One of these scientists is Lora Baines (Cindy Morgan), Flynn’s ex-girlfriend and Alan’s current girlfriend. They go to the arcade to reconvene with Flynn, much to Alan’s irritation.

Flynn not only owns the place, he’s also a game whiz, brilliant computer programmer, and recently fired ex-employee of ENCOM. He’s also been sneaking into the ENCOM system, and he details exactly why he’s moving against them. While working for ENCOM, he had started writing programs for some very complex video games, which could’ve have made him quite a bit of money. But Dillinger stole his files, and uses it to climb up the ranks to Senior Executive of ENCOM, while Flynn lounges in relative poverty. He’s planning on getting into the system to get evidence of Dillinger’s wrongdoing.

The trio plots to take down Dillinger and get the evidence together, breaking into ENCOM that night. Meanwhile, Dillinger’s meeting with Walter Gibbs (Barnard Hughes), a co-founder of the company, and one of the other scientists who made the digitizing machine. Dillinger says YOUR TIME IS OVER OLD MAN, and brushes off his concerns about he’s handing the company.

He’s not the only one with issues, as MCP decides to take over FOR Dillinger. Apparently, Dillinger’s talents are stealing data and creating Cybernet/HAL 9000. Good job, buddy. But that may end, when Alan goes to finish and install his program, Tron, which will hopefully take MCP down. Meanwhile, Lora and Flynn go to the basement with the digitizing machine. At the computer terminal, MCP decides to stop Flynn by...well, you know where this is headed.

Yup! Flynn’s brought into the computer by Lora’s machine, and is digitized and put into the game grid. And since we’ll be spending a lot of time there, I think I need to acknowledge something: I really love how this movie looks. The CGI is rudimentary, but it’s used surprisingly well. Consider that this is also made in an era where this is the kind of imagery that computers could literally generate at the time, and you’ve got a pretty great movie in-context.

Flynn, now in those spiffy program duds, is sent by the MCP to compete in the Game Grid, under Sark’s supervision and tutelage. He’s thrown into the brig with the other imprisoned programs, where he learns more about this world. Once brought into the throes of the Game Grid, he’s told that those who believe in the Users are to be trained poorly, ensuring their inevitable death. Meanwhile, those who renounce their belief will be spared. And of all the programs who still believe in the Users, there is none quite as powerful...as Tron (Bruce Boxleitner again).

We see Tron’s badass skills in Ultimate Frisbee. And OK, it’s not Ultimate Frisbee, but you throw discs that contain all of your essence and all of the things you’ve learned in your time there. You basically pour your entire essence and being into the disc as you throw it. So, really, it is Ultimate Frisbee, according to that one dude who’s REALLY into Ultimate Frisbee.

Flynn is commanded to play one of these games, and he winds fairly easily. However, when he defeats his opponent, he’s almost about to die. However, Flynn refuses to finish him off, leading Sark to do so instead. And Sark is tempted to kill Flynn as well, but he holds off at the last moment.

Flynn finally gets to meet Tron, where he feigns being a program that knows of his User, Alan. Of course, Tron looks exactly like Alan, which is why Flynn blurts out his name. But as they’re discussing this, Flynn, Tron, and fellow prisoner Ram are sent to compete in the Lightcycles. And, yes, I’m now looking for a game like this on my phone, because GODDAMN to I love Lightcycles. Can’t WAIT for the Disney World ride, oh my GOOOOD.

So, our guys get in the Lightcycles, and they outmaneuver Sark’s guys. They’re actually able to escape the arena and the Game Grid, making it outside the citadel. They encounter a, uh, bitstream, and soak up some energy before moving on. On the way, though, they’re nearly killed by Sark’s guys in tanks, and Tron is separated from Flynn an the unconscious Ram.

Flynn and Ram finds a place to rest and hide, and Flynn discovers that, as a User, he actually has the ability to somewhat manipulate the reality within the computer, and he makes a version of MCPs ships, the Recognizers, which resemble the villains in Flynn’s game that Dillinger stole. Now realizing that Flynn is a user, Ram asks him to help Tron, before dying and disappearing into pure code. Whoof.

Tron, meanwhile, ends up finding an input/output program named Yori (Cindy Morgan), who helps him in his escape. She takes him through the city, where we see some interesting designs for control programs, almost like a Hunger Games Panem sort of deal.

Flynn has trouble driving his ship, as he meets a “bit”, a small bit of data that only answers in yes or no. He, too, ends up in the city, and you start to notice that this film has a really heavy influence in our cyberpunk concepts and fashions today. Honestly, I really dig this whole thing. Kevin uses his programming powers to disguise himself as one of Sark’s guards, while Yori and Tron find their way through the main citadel of the guards.

They make their way through to the access tower, where they ask the program Dumont (Barnard Hughes again) to let them access the interface that will allow them to speak with the Users, specifically Alan. Reluctantly, Dumont agrees to let Tron through, where he goes to the access port. Which, for the record, looks awesome. He goes to speak with Alan, and he does that one pose. Y’know, the famous Tron pose that’s on the poster?

Yeah, that’s the good stuff. Anyway, he gets information written onto his disc that’ll allow him to kill MCP. Neat. And unfortunately, that’s exactly when Sark and his guys show up, taking Dumont away as Tron and Yori escape. Yori gets them onto a Solar Sailer, a device that will transport them to the central computer. Tron fends off some of Sark’s guys with video game noise kicks, and the Solar Sailer arrives to take them away.

Sark chases after them, but the pair manage to outrun his very cool-looking ship. MCP threatens to destroy Sark for his failure, but he promises that he’ll be able to get them. On the ship, Tron looks down at the side to see Flynn hanging on. Turns out that he was one of the guards that attacked the two. Tron pulls him up onto the ship, and Flynn reveals that he is, in fact, a user. He also reveals that Users aren’t exactly the gods that programs believe them to be.

Anyway, how’s Dumont doing?

Ah.

Well, the Recognizers find Tron, Yori, and Flynn, and chase after them on the light beam the Solar Sailer is on. However, with his User powers, Flynn manages to get the Sailer onto a different beam, while pulses on the original beam destroy the Recognizers.

Doesn’t end up mattering much, though, as Sark finally catches up and intercepts the group. The Solar Sailer is destroyed, and Yori and Flynn are thrown in the brig with Dumont, who’s still alive! Can’t say quite as much for Tron, apparently. But, again, I can only assume that Ton is still alive. We’ll see, though. Sark denies Flynn’s identity as a User for some reason (I mean, MCP told you who he was, but OK), and he sentences them all to death. Outside the ship, of course, is Tron, who’s hiding and waiting for the right time to strike. And that is when we finally see him.

Glorious. Absolutely goddamn glorious. MCP is taking the remaining programs that believe in Users, Dumont included, and incorporating them into his mass. Meanwhile, Sark has found Tron, and the two are fighting with a classic game of Ultimate Frisbee. Tron nearly defeats Sark entirely, but MCP revives him, and gives him the power to take out Tron. He grows gigantic, and it looks genuinely really convincing.

Flynn prepares to take out MCP once and for all, and kisses Yori just beforehand, which is weird as shit. He jumps into the program, and controls it just long enough for Tron to throw his disc at it and land the finishing blow. And with that, MCP is ended, and the threat of take over is gone! The I/O towers light up, and the Video Warriors have won! Don’t ask me what that means, I study birds.

And with ALL OF THAT DONE, Flynn gets the proof he needs from a print-out that, to be honest, I feel like he could’ve just typed up himself. It doesn’t look like that much. But, still, MCP is gone, Dillinger’s screwed, and Flynn now gets a cool-looking helicopter of his own, as the new CEO of ENCOM. And from there, he will become a deadbeat dad that abandons his kid to live in computers forever. Or something like that, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Tron Legacy.

And that’s Tron, a goofy movie of its time, but one that’s a lot of fun all the same. And with some effects that, to be honest...I actually really liked! But more on that...IN THE REVIEW! See you there!

#tron #tron 1982 #steven lisberger #jeff bridges #bruce boxleitner #david warner #cindy morgan #barnard hughes #science fiction may #sci-fi may #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #useranimusvox #userbrittany

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gildedmuse · 4 years

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Yes, please. More ZoLaw... How about AU ideas?

Oh, I have ton of AU ideas. Some of which I have like 11 pages of co-brainstorming, some of which I've written up summaries roughly the length of some of which are just two words: [blank] Zoro / [Blank] Law. Here's the best list I can put together while on my way to work.

Okay, Hear Me Out. A ZoLaw Fic Where....

Zoro Is Law's Marine Bodyguard....

After Corazon dies, the navy does some digging. Years later they learn about Law and insist he is in danger as Doflamingo has located him as well. A young marine, Zoro, is assigned to guard him

Law Is A Marine & Roronoa Zoro Is His Obsession...

Or Law follows in Corazon's footsteps and becomes a marine. He sort of takes Tashigi's place as Smoker's sidekick second in command. So he's there in Lougetown when the Strawhats breeze into town. and the two develope an... Intense rivalry in which Law is determined to hunt down the cocky young swordsman (mostly because he feels like a fool... Why in the world would be agree to a fight without using his devil's fruit? What kind of argument is "it's cheap" anyway? Why the hell had he been thinking?) while Zoro enjoys taunting the handsome, moody marine he kicked the ass off back in Lougetown (or totally would have if they hadn't been interrupted).

Just wait until Law follows him all the way to Dressrosa. He's been avoiding meeting The Heavenly Demon since he became a marine, so why they hell is he willing to follow this green haired pirate hunter into the devil's own home?

Zoro Hates All Doctors (Except Law) (And Also It's A College AU Because Why Not?)

Modern AU where Law is an overworked med student filling shifts at the student clinic and Zoro is a at University on a kendo scholarship, preparing for the olympics. He has a knack for getting injured (it doesn't help that his coach, Mihawk Dracula, doesn't believe in pulling punches... Or whatever the sword equivalent is). Still, he absolutely hates going to the clinic. One day Law is taking out some tension at the gym practicing with his own blade when Zoro gets badly hurt. Law rushes over to help, and since Zoro isn't really in a position to say no he has to let the young doctor help him.

After that whenever Zoro gets injured he still refuses to go to a doctor. What he does do is lurk outside the student clinic (typically with Luffy in toe to keep him company - even if your injured and tired, you can never get too bored with Luffy as your best friend) until Law gets tired of it and makes him come in so he can fix up whatever he's managed to injure this time.

The clinic receptionist - Perona - doesn't find this cute at all. Mostly because Zoro is typically sweaty and gross and the Monkey boy is just annoying. His fellow student interns Shachi and Penguin are just impressed Law has put up with him this long (they did ask if the Kendo scene attracted a lot of girls, but Law's blank stare pretty much answered that one) while Assistant Professor and Physician Marco thinks it's adorable but is kind enough to only tease Law about it occasionally (he doesn't ask about fangirls in the kendo scene since he's pretty much certain that's not Zoro's scene either way).

Of the two tenured professors who officially oversee the clinic, Dr. Crocus has never said anything to Law about the whole situation except for letting him know when Zoro is waiting outside. He does, however, sometimes bring Zoro and Luffy by snacks or something to drink and has even kept them company an few times. No need for the two of them to wait out there with no one looking out for them (and, yes, they clearly need someone looking out for them). On the other hand Dr. Kureha has never believed in cuddling her students. The exact opposite actually. She started by telling Law he'd best take his pet home since he couldn't have it here all day ("Pet? What pet? Whoever it is, it's not mine, Dr. Kureha-ya." / "So that green haired stray and his little monkey friend don't belong to you?" / "Green hai- Urg."), Which eventually evolved to her telling him this was a clinic not a dating service ("He's not... *Sigh*") and finally came to the point where she just snips st Law for not being able to control even a simple minded athlete then how does he plan to deal with actual problem patients? She's also made a point of telling Zoro off - it pretty obvious that even when he does come by the clinic he only does so after either accumulating multiple injuries or continuing to push one until it gets far worse than needed. Is the boy an idiot? Why wait until things are so bad, and why is he wasting the time of one of her top students? If he wants to stalk one of the postgrads he could at least pick a less talented one. There are plenty to choose from.

Marco tried to make up for this lecture (after which Zoro stayed away for three months until he almost lost an eye) by offering to let Zoro and Luffy wait in the actual clinic to wait. (To which Luffy helpfully announces, "Zoro isn't waiting for the clinic, he's waiting for Toroa." Which kinda makes Zoro want to strangle his best friend but since he's currently holding a towel up to his eye and feels pretty sick at the thought of not making these games because he's an idiot, he only managed an apologetic smile and mentally promises himself to pinch Luffy later. Marco is totally unsurprised by this answer, for what it's worth.)

(Also, it turns out Kendo does attract at least a couple of girls, at least at the Olympics level. It's probably more accurate to say that Dracule Mihawk and Roronoa Zoro attract attention, which Law only learns because he was heading home after his shift and saw a bit if activity around the gymnasium and wandered over purely out of curiosity and somehow accidentally ended up watching Zoro's match. And that randomly happened a couple of times. Look, the best parking is by the gym he practically has to walk by to get to his car. He isn't going out of his way. And he has a valid reason to be interested in kendo. (Also, appro of nothing, Tashigi seems like an annoying know it all and Hiyori seems like a silly teenage girl and why is Perona even here?)

Shanks Uses His Yonko Status For It's Highest Purpose - Mischief

While sailing to Wano, they stop at an island to gather supplies when they are ambushed. It turns out to be one occupied by the Head Haired Pirates. Before anyone can attcak, Shanks steps into view, smiling. He greets Kin'emon and Kunjuro (they were with the Roger pirates for a while). Robin, Franky and Usopp he recognizes as friends of Luffy. Weirdly, he calls Zoro 'Mihawk'ss boy'. Law corrects him as Zoro is also in the Strawhats. Shanks laughs because while that may be true, he's met Zoro and he's Mihawk's boy to him. Law seems unhappy with this description, while Zoro just rolls his eyes, calling Shanks an old pervert and to stop messing around. Despite everyone else freaking out, Shanks laughs it off. He insists surely Mihawk would be the pervert in that situation. Law dislikes the whole conversation. It only gets worse when it turns out they have to stay on the island two weeks, and Mihawk is visiting as well. Under Shank's bad influence (and seeing how such comments got under the other Captain's skin even if he wouldn't admit to it) he convinced Mihawk to join him in creating some mischief (Shanks is a terrible influence).

Law Is Working For Doflamingo, Gathering Information On & Chain Off Rookie Pirates

Instead of Bellemy, the crew find Law right before Skypea. He is also (secretly) working for Doflamingo. Typically it's his job to narrow out the herd, and for the pirates that might make it to the second half of the Grand Line, his job is to gather information that may be useful in "convincing" them over to Doflamingo's side later or else can be useful in eliminating them if they become a threat.

Unlike Bellamy, it takes Law only one conversation in the bar to determine that the Strawhats aren't your average pirates. Their captain's open, naive nature makes gathering information on them rather straight forward. Which is how Law determines that his biggest advantage is his crews loyalty, and none seem more so than his handsome swordsman. Luffy seems to naturally open and unashamed to be able to gather blackmail material on, but Law's willing to bet if you own Zoro, you'd more or less own the captain. So he sets out to do just that.

Swords Are Cats

Zoro owns three infamous crazy cats. Law is a vet. Look, this is an AU in which Swords are cats. Zoro has two in particular that no vet is willing (or able) to get anywhere near. When Wado gets sick, though, he shows up to The Heart Veterinary Clinic (it sounds like such a cheesy name he already can't stand it) with all three in toe. Best to get everything done at once since it's unlikely they'll ever be allowed back again. Sure enough, Shisui just has to start the trip off by escaping when Zoro is checking in.

Law is in his office when he notices Kikoku is gone, which is strange. She usually likes to stick by his side. He goes looking for her and is surprised to find her hiding under the receptionist desk, curled up peacefully with another cat. He holds up the strange tomcat only to very nearly lose an eye. Zoro catches the poor thing midair when Law stumbles back from surprise, honestly just thankful to find him before he caused any damage.

Law takes one look at Zoro and the three cats and instantly knows two things:

A. Oh, so these are the demon cats he was warned about by Tashigi and Pica and Wanda and even Shanks who seems like he can put up with almost any animal

B. He's definitely going to get these cats to like him, if only to ensure that Zoro back.

Law Ends Up On Kuraigana Island

Incredibly simple What If premise. What if instead of fighying two pacsifistas alongside the Kid pirates, the Heart Pirates wind up on the battle field with the Strawhats. When the real Kuma shoes up, Law gets a little too close to the action and is sent along with Zoro to Kuraigana Island. This has everything you need in an AU. Zoro and Law going from complete strangers to friendly rivalry to sexual tension because they're stuck on an island for two years together. A possible love triangle with Mihawk. Perona being either an annoying bratty sister to Zoro (who in fairness beat up her crew) while openlh crushing on a disinterested Law or a Perona silently shipping the two of them long before they even take any real notice of each other (I'm guessing she'd talk about it with her hallows). Bonus points for scenes of The Heart Pirates trying desperately to find their beloved captain.

I'm kidding. Bonus points for adding Mihawk in the mix and making it a triangle filled with possessiveness, jealousy and a totally unaware he's in the middle of it all Zoro. That's my jam.

They Were Childhood Friends (Who Haven't Seen Each Other In Years)

Sometimes, all an AU needs to be is a romamtic comedy formula lifted wholesale and recontextualized to fit whatever fandom you're into. So, yeah. Law and Zoro grow up at the same dojo but haven't seen each other in years, then suddenly Law is sitting there in ten Sabaody auction house when the something crashes through the roof, and that something looks a lot like a boy he hasn't seen since he left the dojo at 18. Or, hey, maybe Law catches a wanted poster of "his little brother" while sailing on the Grand Line and decides to track him down just to see how he's doing. And probably he was totally unaware that at 13/14 years old, Zoro had just about the biggest crush in the world on him.

Although most the Strawhats definitely know. Or at least figure it out damn quickly. It's kind of hard to miss how their badass swordsman suddenly can't make eye contact or flushes at the slightest provocation. ("Do you think the Heart captain realizes?"/"Maybe it's just because Zoro looked up to him. I mean, I can't imagine him actually LIKING someone."/"Oh, come off it, you'd have to be blind not to see!"/"I think it's sweet that our swordsman-san still holds such a place for what must have been his first major crush."/"Yeah, who know Zoro-bro could be such a romantic!")

Strawhats antics ensue.

Law Uses His Shichibukai Connections For Something Other Than Revenge (So Sex. Sex and Revange.)

After becoming a Shichibukai, Law meets Mihawk at an official summon and picks up on the fact that Zoro is training there. Having promised Luffy he would look it to his nakama's safety should be discover them (something he had thought would never happen) he follows Mihawk back to the island to see how Zoro's training holds up.

Perona Is Zoro's Older Sister, Just To Create Drama

AU where Perona is Zoro's older sister. She hangs out with a much darker, edgier crowd than Zoro approves of. He find Law especially questionable and not just because they seem to have a 'thing' (in my mind Zoro is in high school while Perona and Law are not in college. He's heard about the way college boys often are and he doesn't really understand that all their relationship is entirely casual, and most the time when he catches Perona cuddling up to him, it's just her being cutesy (and because she knows that while it annoys Law a little, he won't do anything to stop him). He also doesn't understand why every time he tries to confront Law about it he ends up feeling so flustered. (Not that Law is about to openly hit on his friend's little brother, but some teasing never hurt)

There's Only One Bed. Because There Is ALWAYS A Story With Only One Bed

The Polar Tang and Sunny are stolen while the two crews are meeting up, talking over a plan to take down Blackbeard (okay fine, LAW is doing all the planning). Luckily, Shanks just happens to be passing by and offers them a lift, but as big as his ship is, three whole crews take up a lot of space. And despite Shanks (joking) offer to let Zoro share his bed, Law is the one who ends up stuffed into a single hammock with the Swordsman.

Law Tries To Sleep With His Uncle's Partner (Not As Terrible As If Sounds)

Law's uncle Corazon works in Law enforcement. He talks endlessly about his new rookie partner to the point of Law's annoyance. Until Corazon brings the young green haired detective home for dinner.

Law Is The Ship Doctor For The Strawhats Pirates

Corazon lives and runs off with Law, who grows up to be a doctor. One day, a pirate ships sails to their island. They have a sick crew member and desperate for help. Law doesn't help pirates, but then the corrupt ruler of their island has Corazon arrested and locked up, claiming he's found his true identity and plans to sell him out to his brother. They come for Law, but the Strawhats save him despite his refusal to help them (Luffy doesn't mind, he's sure Torao has his reasons and anyway Corazon is an amazing man who gave them a free lunch and he's sure Torao is just as good.) The Strawhats rescue Corazon, kick out the evil ruler and bring peace back to the island. Law finds himself compelled to accompany them.

Law Tutors Zoro (In The Ways Of Love Math)

Zoro's life is way too stressful. Between kendo competitions, a job that doesn't pay enough, a second job that's a bit questionable not too mention school. He doesn't even care about most that stuff, but if he wants to be the greatest at his sport, the rest is sort of necessary. Like training. One thing he definitely needs more training in is school work. Zoro has to keep a certain GPA to keep his Kendo scholarship. Luffy insists he knows the perfect tutor, and while Zoro isn't so sure about Luffy's judgement on intelligence, he trusts his friend. Enter Trafalgar Law, college senior who tutors on the side. Oh, and - as he casually mentions at the end of their first session that he's seen Zoro at his job. No, not as at the restaurant, but the online videos. And he has to say, he's quite the fan.

There are a few I didn't manage to get to tonight, despite being some of my favorites. Maybe later, when work has not drained the life out of me, you can hear about...

Drummer Zoro/Med Student Law

Marine Law/Revolutionary Zoro

Marine Law/Marine Zoro

Police Zoro/ME Law

Rock Star Law / Bodyguard Zoro

Biker Gang Zoro / Anarchist Group Law

Kendo Olympic Champion Zoro / Sports Doctor Law

Kendo Rivals Zoro / Law

Evil Doflamingo Pirate Law / Captive Zoro

Samurai Zoro / Ninja Law

Detective Zoro / Art Thief Law

#the zolaw headcanon nobody asked for #zoro x law #zolaw #amazing fanfic ideas #terrible fanfic ideas #one piece au #one piece fanfiction #one piece #roronoa zoro #trafalgar law #trafalgar d. water law #asks #the problem with rock star law and marine aus and drummer zoro #i will literally go on forever about them #the zolaw au nobody asked for #ask and you shall receive

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lily-of-the-eyrie · 4 years

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🎓🔍 Scene Commentary: Colonel Edition ③

Notes for [SQ3-3] Circumstances [video here]. Come join me as we talk about more theories surrounding the Colonel’s manipulation skills, hints about his history before Shay met him, and Gist being charmingly sassy.

Highlights this time include: 　❗️The Colonel's Finances 　❗️Gist and the Colonel

Without further ado, here we go:

[SQ3-3] Circumstances

― Part I: Heading to Albany ― Shay, having retrieved the Morrigan, follows Gist's advice to set sail for Albany, where the Colonel's waiting.

　The Colonel himself isn't present while Shay and Gist are on the way to Albany, but on the flipside, we got this great opportunity to see these two gossiping about the man.

　Gist opens the scene pondering out loud what the Colonel might want them to do next. Now this bit is mildly amusing because he said "I wonder what he has in mind for us to do next"―did Gist just...slip up? Shay naturally went wdym-"us"-👀 at him over here, because he's pretty sure he hasn't signed up to be part of their team...

　Still, Gist doesn't even trip over his words as he follows up with how he's really just all giddy about doing his part in making the Colonel's ideals a reality. Aside from the impressive save he pulls here, another highlight of this section is that Gist frames "the Colonel's ideals" in extremely concrete terms: "secure borders, prosperous farms, fair trade". These are very specific large-scale implementations of the Freedom From Want theme compared to what we heard from the Colonel himself two chapters back, which was more on the philosophical/ideological side.

　Next up, the Morrigan docks at Albany, where the Colonel's waiting. I just have to say that it's incredibly cute of the Colonel to address Shay as "Captain Cormac" following Gist's example after seeing the Morrigan.

　The issue on the table for their meeting this time is the French forces' movements into British territory, which is likely to break out into a full fight between the two kingdoms' armies. Now watch how Shay wound up working with these two again despite the question of him agreeing to run for more of the Colonel's errands was left hanging at the beginning of this scene: the moment the Colonel mentions that "New York could burn" if they don't do anything about the French forces encroaching upon British territory, Shay throws his weight in with them.

　We've already established that Shay's the kind of person who cares about the little guy, so this isn't all that unnatural; especially now that he's a good friend of the Finnegans', not doing anything when New York's at risk is going to sound unreasonable to him.

　However, the audience isn't the only one who understands this―at this point, so does the Colonel. After what happened at the Greenwich gang HQ and Fort Arsenal, he knows for a fact that Shay isn't going to turn his back on a chance to save innocent people. Did he, then, strategically bait Shay by presenting the fact that New York is in terrible danger and joining him is the best way to save all those townspeople? Or was it just something he said because he's also the kind of guy who's concerned for the safety of New York etc., and by saying this he's also trying to communicate to Shay that their goals are aligned? The trick to this is that of course these two possibilities don't have to be mutually exclusive―I'd say the Colonel feels that he knows Shay well enough at this point that he'd want to both get Shay to help him out while also letting him pursue what seems to be his calling.

― Part II: Gathering Supplies ― Shay and Gist, having reunited with the Colonel, head to a nearby French outpost to gather supplies and thwart French expansion into the River Valley.

　In order to dislodge the invading French forces, Gist then suggests that they raid a nearby French outpost for supplies. The trio covers a range of interesting topics during their time sailing to that outpost, chief among which is Shay's skepticism towards the Colonel's intentions behind all his seemingly charitable actions. This is an important bit for two reasons:

(1) Despite all they've done together so far, Shay doesn't stop questioning Monro. He's cooperative with the Colonel, sure, but just because he kinda sorta trusts that he's not a bad guy right now, that doesn't mean he's going to do whatever he says until he gets to the bottom of why he does it.

(2) The Colonel, again, calmly faces off against Shay's doubt by being straight with what he wants: that the colonies become "a place of safety, development, and purpose". Now this is something literally every one of us recognizes as a Templar Line™, even if Shay might not (did he? Hmmm). In any case, the most important takeaway here is that it strongly links the Colonel's concern for the common man with core Templar tenets, giving us a clear look into his personal take on how the Order's beliefs were meant to be applied to the world. He's not part-timing “being a Templar” half the time and “being a benevolent authority figure” in the other half, those two things are one and the same for him.

　On a random note: I’m just gonna mention here that Gist being cheeky as hell with the Colonel's noble "money is only a means to an end" talk in this bit is hands down my favourite part of this scene.

❗️The Colonel's Finances

　On a more serious note, the Colonel's comment on how he's "not a rich man" did get me wondering about his financial situation... I mean, obviously he's not dirt poor, and while there's that idea that Templars tend to be loaded, he doesn't look like he's just rolling in gold, either.

　Realistically speaking, being a military officer in the early 18th century can be a rather pricey career―the pay's far from great, and with all the spending for supplies and equipments, it can be quite a while until even the officers could expect to turn a profit from their job (one exhaustive source about the economics of the 18th c. British Army I’ve read pegged it at around the time they get promoted to Captain). And while the Colonel did come from what you might call a respectable family, it’s more of a modest than aristocratic one.

　However, assuming he's a long-time player in the field of renovating cities, a.k.a. the sidequest that, in the long run, gives you way more money than you know what to do with in Rogue, I guess his finances are quite stable. Now the question is, how much of those renovating gains he put back into more renovating... 😂

― Part III: Taking Down the French Fort ― Having obtained their supplies, Shay & co. sail the upgraded Morrigan to the French fort and take it down.

　With the party ready to take on the French fort, we see the Colonel show a pacifist streak as he reins in Gist, who was being a little too excited about the prospect of throwing fists with the French. Really, these two have such amusing interactions.

　Next, he shows a strategic side as he agrees with Shay's suggestion about taking out the fort's commander to force the French to surrender; he may not be against pitching a battle when necessary, but he also seems to be a big fan of minimizing the overall casualties.

　One really paltry but personally highly interesting thing I picked up in this scene is how the Colonel, commenting on how the French soldiers in the fort would put on an aggressive defense under pressure, said they'd just "dig in like a wounded bear", which does sound like an uncommon expression... I mean, "like a wounded animal" is something anyone can say, but him specifying "bear" over there just makes it sound like he'd gone up against one himself before. Considering he’d likely not have met a bear before he got to the colonies (bears had been extinct a long time in Britain and Ireland), if he did have a bear encounter, it must’ve been after 1750... Did you get chased around by this fuzzy creature in the frontier's wilderness at some point before you settled down in New York, Colonel? 😂

❗️Gist and the Colonel

　Since the amount of interaction the Colonel has with Gist is second only to his interactions with Shay, analyzing how things are between these two can tell us quite a lot about the Colonel's personality.

　First, it's obvious that these two are close friends―the kind of relaxed bantering they have on board the Morrigan sounds pretty much on par with what Shay's got going on with Liam, which isn't all that surprising considering Gist and the Colonel had known each other (and presumably worked together) for 6 years at this point.

　Still, while the Colonel may be the older and higher-ranking of the two (ie.-He is Gist’s senior in both the military sense and the Templar one), therefore putting a clear superior-subordinate dynamic at play here, you don't see the Colonel trying to roast his colleague for stepping out of line (which he clearly does all the time, judging by his behaviour in this chapter), and what he does when Gist gets a little too rowdy is to gently but firmly prod him back onto the proper path. Maybe it's just his brand of leadership, but he displays similar tendencies when dealing with Shay, who has his default setting set to "unruly" most of the time. He’s clearly skilled at handling people much more hot-blooded than himself, and has a good hang of how to be an authority figure while still standing on the ground with his subordinates instead of putting himself on some distant, overbearing pedestal—honestly, a pretty good way to end up with their respect and loyalty.

　Another highlight is Gist's adoration of the Colonel's ideals. Now I think we all know that the Colonel's utopian take on Templar ideals is one of his greatest charms, but what I'd want to bring up here is the fact that, if Shay followed the Colonel because he was inspired by the man's idea of making a better world, he wouldn't have been the first―Gist had been there before, citing how he used to wonder if he’s doing the right thing, but “not since [he] met the Colonel” . I'm not saying that the Colonel's deliberately going out there to steal people's hearts with his brand of Templar beliefs, but judging from his success at inspiring Gist (and presumably Finnegan Jr.) into joining his fight, his winning Shay over to his side isn't a one-off thing.

#⟪Monrology 🎓⟫#⟪Headcanon Hour 💭⟫#⟪✠ Honour and Loyalty ✠⟫#⟪Cutscene Commentary series⟫#cheeky Gist is life

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today-only-happens-once · 5 years

Text

With Great Power - Chapter 8

Title: With Great Power - Chapter 8

Word Count: 3474

Fic Summary: Thomas Sanders is just a regular social media personality. But when he gets bit by a spider during filming one of his YouTube videos, his whole life is about to turn upside down—whether he (or the aspects of his personality) want it to or not. Platonic LAMP/CALM + Character!Thomas. Spider-Man AU.

Catch up or Read on AO3 here!

Chapter Warnings: arguing, science that isn’t real science, arguing, violence/robbery/hostages mention, a couple of OCs make an appearance this chapter, let me know if I forgot anything.

A/N: It’s been a minute on this fic. Sorry for the delay! Always a joy to work on this fic, but real life was pretty busy for a while there. Special thanks to @creativenostalgiastuff for helping me out so much with this chapter. The science of this chapter is based in the lab notebook page we get a glimpse of in Spider-Man: Homecoming for Web Fluid 3.0. I found a picture of it online and used that as my baseline for the science of their development of this formula. I am not a chemical engineer. If you are, I beg for suspension of disbelief. Also.... please let me know what ya think! We’re starting to get more and more into character stuff, and I’m always interested in knowing how it’s coming across. ^u^ Love you all.

Three days later, Thomas makes his way down the hallway of the third level of the engineering building of his old college.

It had been a little odd being on campus so long after graduation. So much had changed from when he’d thought he’d be a chemical engineer; he’d gotten famous on Vine. He’d started YouTube as a full-time gig. He hadn’t done any chemical engineering work since his first job out of college, and he’d only done that for a few years. Thomas remembered the late coffee-fueled nights of studying in the library, the stupid adventures with friends for donuts at midnight, the tears shared over failed tests and where their lives would be going …

So much had changed for Thomas in the years since his graduation. The campus, however, seemed to be exactly the same except for a few updates to the old brick buildings he’d spent four years walking past.

Thomas approaches the lab down the hall and can hear music floating from under the wooden door. He’d sent the email to his old engineering professor, Dr. Washington, the same night that the Sides had given him the idea for the suit and webshooters. She’d responded the next morning, telling Thomas that she’d be doing research work with her lab assistant most of Wednesday and to drop by whenever he was free. Thomas spent most of the day in-between working with Logan to come up with some ideas for the formula, however incomplete it clearly was. At least he would have notes to give Dr. Washington as a starting place.

As Thomas raps a knuckle against the door, he can make out the suddenly familiar song. “And they’re gonna see what stop the presses really means! And the old will weep and go back to sleep—”

Thomas opens the door, smiling. “You’re listening to Newsies, Dr. Washington?”

The lab is relatively spacious; black tables are filled with various vials, beakers, and equipment that takes Thomas back to his own lab assistant days. The tiled linoleum floor reflects the fluorescent lights above. On the other side of the room, Thomas sees Dr. Washington—in a lab coat and goggles—look up at the sounds of his entry. Beside her is a man with blonde hair and glasses with something like a laser pointer attached, who looks a few years younger than Thomas, seated in an electric wheelchair.

She grins, sliding the goggles up over her cropped hair. “I told Andrew he could choose the music today.” She nods to the man beside her. “As long as it wasn’t Les Mis.”

Thomas laughs at the affronted look on Andrew’s face. He looks at a board attached to his wheelchair, and Dr. Washington leans over, reading. “I S-T-- still don’t know what you H-A-- have against L-E-S Les Mis.” She quirks an eyebrow at him. “Nothing, the first eighteen times we listened to it.”

Thomas smiles. “Only eighteen? Then you’re fine. When you get into like, the thirties is when you maybe consider listening to a different musical.”

Dr. Washington points a finger at him. “Don’t encourage him, Thomas. Having one thespian in my midst is enough. I feel outnumbered now.” Andrew looks at the board again and she leans over to read. “I like him. He G-E-- gets it.” Dr. Washington rolls her eyes. “Of course you do.”

Andrew and Thomas grin at each other.

Dr. Washington screws the lid onto a petri dish and scribbles something on it. She sets it aside. “I can’t win.” She pulls her gloves off and tosses them into the wastebasket underneath the lab table. “So what brings you in, Thomas? Your email was pretty vague.”

“Right. Well…” The internet personality swings his backpack around from his shoulder and unzips it, digging through it for his notebook. “I have a question about a hypothetical formula.”

“H-Y-P-- hypothetical?”

Thomas pulls the notebook out, flipping through it for the pages he’d been working on with Logan. “I—yeah. I was wondering if I combined salicylic acid, methanol, carbon tetrachloride, touline, H-heptane…” Thomas trails off as he flips through the pages before finding the one with the partial formula he’d been working on, stepping up to the other side of the lab table and setting the notebook open in front of them.

It’s a long moment as Thomas watches both them glance over his notes. Andrew furrows his brows in thought as Dr. Washington flips the single page back and forth. She looks up at Thomas.

Thomas jumps in before she can say anything. “It’s incomplete. I know it is. I’m just not sure what’s missing.”

“Well,” she says, tilting her head slightly as her dark eyes flit over the page, “that depends on what you’re trying to get this substance to do.”

Thomas rubs the back of his neck as he walks around the table to stand on the other side of Andrew. “I was wondering if it’s possible to create a flexible but strong adhesive… thing.”

Andrew’s looking at him with curiosity. Thomas glances down as Andrew uses the communication board, reading his question aloud. “Like a G-L-- glue?” Thomas sighs. “Not exactly. I… was hoping for something a lot stronger and more flexible than glue.”

Dr. Washington hums, tapping a pencil to her mouth. Her brows are furrowed in thought. “I may have an idea. But you’d need to add carbon tetrachloride and ethyl acetate to the list you’ve got here.”

Thomas nods, scribbling that under the list of other chemicals, not picking up his pencil as Andrew adds on.

“S-O-D-I-- sodium T-E-T-R-A-B-- tetraborate could work as an A-C-T-I-V-activator.”

Dr. Washington and Andrew spend the next ten minutes bouncing ideas off each other. Thomas scribbles down as many notes as he can. Dr. Washington starts bustling around the lab, grabbing chemicals and starting equipment up as she goes. Thomas studies the new list and equations they’ve developed, and he can feel Logan’s presence at the forefront of his mind like a comforting weight.

Add CC14, K3Co5 and C7H6O3 after you’ve boiled it, Logan tells him suddenly. It’ll help the consistency prior to adding the sodium tetraborate.

Thomas jots that down.

The three of them make themselves busy. Thomas grabs a lab coat and pair of safety goggles from the cabinet near the door. Dr. Washington hands Andrew an iPad, and he pulls up a software that Thomas isn’t familiar with and inputs a series of chemical equations. Dr. Washington swirls a clear liquid in a flask as she crosses the lab.

The hours pass by in a flurry of scientific trial and error. Andrew runs simulations on the iPad before they adjust the formula each time fails—something that Thomas is especially grateful for when the simulation for one particular change involves a small explosion. It hardly absolves them of error, every slight change resulting in something different. In some ways, it serves to remind Thomas one thing he loved about chemistry: it had always been precise and measured. One small change could lead to a very different reaction.

Even when Thomas can feel his frustration rising, Dr. Washington and Andrew make him laugh. Andrew’s nerdiness rivals Thomas’s own, and Dr. Washington’s sarcasm seems to have continued in the years since Thomas had her for class. While they waited for the current fluid to boil, he and Andrew swapped opinions about Kingdom Hearts 3 and Marvel (with a healthy debate about Captain America’s arc in Endgame) and musicals.

“It’s a shame that Dr. Washington is a musical hater,” Thomas teases, being sure to speak loud enough that it was obvious he wanted the professor in question to hear.

Andrew shakes his head, tapping a few things on the iPad in his lap. Through the speakers in the lab, Thomas hears a familiar song that’s a quick change from the music of The Prom that they’d been listening to a moment ago. It’s Hairspray. Specifically, “Run and Tell That”.

Dr. Washington’s eyes flicker up across the room to the two of them. “Andrew, I will forever regret telling you that.”

Thomas raises his eyebrows. “Tell you what?” Andrew has an amused glint in his eyes as he meets Thomas’s gaze, then looks to his board. Thomas leans over. “She told me she was M-A-Y-- Maybelle in a C-O-M-M-- community theatre P-R-- production.” Thomas looks at his old professor. “Wait… really?”

Dr. Washington shoots a mock glare at Andrew. “Traitor.”

Andrew laughs before Thomas reads his reply aloud. “If any of us are a T-- traitor, it’s you. You hate L-E-S Les Mis.”

Dr. Washington pulls the pencil out from behind her ear and points it at him. “Of all the musicals we can agree on, Andrew, you’re going to get hung up on one that I just happen to think is overrated?” Andrew shakes his head sadly. Dr. Washington snorts.

“That’s amazing,” Thomas replies. “I never knew you did theatre.”

Dr. Washington opens her mouth to reply, but sharp ding cuts off her response. The timer signals the need to add the activator and start the de-gassing process. It’s a sudden, sharp reminder of what he’s here to do.

…

Thomas blows out a breath as he spins the office chair in a lazy circle. It’s nearly 7 in the evening, and Dr. Washington had gone with Andrew to pick up some dinner for the three of them. Thomas had offered to stay behind and watch their current attempt slowly heat in the flask. The internet personality had written in his notebook that this was trial fifteen.

The empty lab is suddenly quiet, too. Andrew had given Thomas the iPad to play music, but he hadn’t selected anything. Instead, Thomas listens to the quiet gurgling of the fluid in the flask on the table in front of him, the whirring of the AC unit, and a distant, muffled voice of a professor giving a lecture in a nearby room. Not for the first time today, it takes Thomas back to his own time as a student and lab assistant. It felt like such a long time ago.

He’d always been interested in the environment and helping the world on such a big scale. Throughout high school, Thomas used to read articles about scientists engineering new biotechnology that could help slow deforestation, or developing alternative substances to harmful pesticides, or creating more environmentally-friendly methods of gas consumption. He’d always found it interesting, and though he was generally a pretty average student, he’d done well in chemistry.

He remembers talking to his Aunt Patty before he chose a major, during his senior year of high school. She was an elementary school librarian, and she’d been doing that for as long as Thomas could remember. When he asked her how she knew what she wanted to do, she told him to find where his passion intersected with his ability and to pursue it.

But it hadn’t always been that simple, either. Thomas was as passionate about performing as he was about the environment at the time. There was greater job security in an engineering job than trying to make it as an actor, so Thomas had chosen chemical engineering and decided that he could keep performing as a hobby. It had seemed like the most practical solution at the time.

But then he was introduced to Vine, and what started as goofing around on a social media app quickly turned his life around. In a few years, Thomas decided to make performing and social media his full-time job once he realized he could actually make a living out of it. It had fixed the practicality issue, and his fans were so incredibly kind. He realized that, maybe, he could make a positive difference in the world this way, too.

Thomas sighs, standing up to stretch.

Making a positive difference in the world was really his biggest hope with anything he did. It was true when he was a chemical engineer, and it was true now.

Now.

The thought stops Thomas short suddenly. The video he’d watched the other day flickers through his mind again. The card. The entire reason he was here in the first place was to help others, right? But he thinks again about the video—the footage, the threat—and feels something uneasy settle in his stomach.

“We’re in way over our head, Thomas.”

Thomas jumps slightly. “What?” He’d been so lost in his roaming thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed that Virgil had risen up by one of the tables to Thomas’s left, in his familiar hoodie and a black shirt underneath. “What do you mean?”

Virgil shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, scowling. “I mean this isn’t our fight. Not really.”

Thomas blinks, taken aback. “I—”

“Look, Ekko made a threatening video but there are people in place to protect everyone. Police. Military, if it comes to that.” Virgil shakes his head, looking away from Thomas. “You just got these powers a few weeks ago. You can’t even control your sticking ability. And you really think you can just… take on this kind of fight?”

Thomas holds up a hand, his brow furrowing. “Virge… where is this coming from?”

“Common sense,” Virgil snaps. “Apparently, I’m the only one who has any of it.”

Thomas opens his mouth, then closes it. He doesn’t know what to say. Maybe Virgil has a point. They don’t even really know what Ekko is capable of, or where to find her, or what she’s planning. Meanwhile, Thomas can’t even fully control his own abilities. He’d been getting better, sure, but it wasn’t enough. Not yet. Maybe not in time.

And there were people in place to help protect others. Thomas was just one guy.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of another one of his Sides rising up. Patton appears on the other side of the table, his arms crossed over his chest and a vaguely disapproving look in his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, Thomas thinks he sees Virgil roll his eyes.

“Kiddo,” Patton says to Virgil carefully, even as he casts a quick glance at Thomas, “you’re coming across kinda harsh there.”

“But I’m right,” Virgil replies insistently. He huffs a frustrated sigh. “Listen, all Thomas is doing is putting himself in harm’s way when he doesn’t even need to. Why not leave this up to the authorities?”

Patton’s expression softens slightly. “Because Thomas has the ability to do something. He should use it.”

“Why? Just because someone can doesn’t always mean that someone should, Patton.”

It’s another good point. Thomas still doesn’t quite understand why Virgil was coming forward with these arguments now as opposed to earlier, but he supposes it doesn’t much matter. Maybe because Virgil felt that the web shooter formula made the whole thing feel a lot more real and sudden. Thomas certainly felt that way. Maybe that feeling was stemming from Virgil.

“It does if it means doing a good thing,” Patton insists.

Virgil seems to bristle slightly. “If a cat is stuck in a tree and you don’t know how to climb a tree, what do you do? You call the fire department. You don’t risk hurting yourself in an effort to get the cat yourself when you aren’t qualified to do it.”

“But Thomas can climb a tree.”

“It’s a metaphor.”

“I know, but even in the metaphor. Thomas has abilities, Virge.”

“So that makes him qualified to get involved?” Virgil stops for a moment and takes a deep breath. Some of the edge is gone from his voice when he speaks again, but the underlying frustration hasn’t left. “Thomas is in over his head. And I don’t want him to get hurt tackling a fight that isn’t his in the first place. Sometimes you have to pick your battles, Patton. Why does Thomas have to choose this one?”

The question is met with silence.

Thomas slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans and glances down at the linoleum floor between his feet. He studies the specks of blue amidst the white as if it will distract him from the tension in the room. The web fluid gurgling in the flask on the table between the three of them is the only sound for a long, uncomfortable moment. Virgil’s question seems to echo in Thomas’s head.

When Thomas finally glances up, Patton is looking at Virgil with something soft in his eyes. “Because it’s the one given to us. Maybe we don’t get to pick the battles, kiddo. Maybe… we lost that luxury when Thomas got these powers.”

“That’s not fair.”

Patton sighs. “It’s not. But with great power, comes great responsibility.”

Thomas swallows and nods. He speaks quietly, despite the weight he can feel settling in his chest. “And it’s my responsibility to do what I can to help. I… have to at least try.” He glances up at Virgil. “I don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t give it that much.”

Thomas can see the tightness in Virgil’s jaw; something he can’t place flashes quickly through his eyes. “It’s not just Thomas at stake, you know. If he gets involved, he puts everyone he loves at risk. None of us want that.”

The reminder squeezes something in Thomas’s chest. “That’s why we’re making the suit, Virgil. To protect me and my loved ones.”

Even as he says it, though, he realizes Virgil’s point. The suit would only do so much. He looks around in the lab and realizes suddenly that he was putting Dr. Washington and Andrew at risk by involving them like he had. He’d almost asked Dahlia about advice on his suit construction and no matter how vague he’d been planning to keep it, it was still involving her. It was still putting her at risk, putting everyone at risk.

He had to stop. Nobody could know his identity, but nobody could be involved in this fight, either. Not unless Thomas was willing to risk his friends’ lives, and that… that wasn’t a price Thomas would ever be willing to pay.

“This… is my fight,” Thomas says, his voice tight. Patton and Virgil both look over at him. “But it’s mine alone. After today, nobody else gets involved. I can’t…” Thomas thinks about the look of raw fear in the hostages’ eyes during the bank robbery and the tearful, desperate reunion between Mikey and his mother. “I can’t take that risk.”

He sees Virgil opens his mouth but he’s cut off by the ding of the timer beside Thomas. The host blinks a second, forgetting for a brief moment what the timer had been set for in the first place. Then his gaze focuses on the flask in front of him. Right, Thomas remembers suddenly. Web fluid.

The timer meant that he needed to take it off the heat. Cool it down—which would occur quickly—filter and wash with C12H8O2, then add silica gel to purify the substance and… theoretically, it would be complete.

The rest of the process would take about five minutes. And then, well… Thomas could leave. He could keep Andrew and Dr. Washington from knowing the final product and maybe that would help protect them. When Thomas looks up again from the flask, Virgil and Patton have both left.

Thomas stands alone in the lab and keeps himself busy for the next several minutes walking methodically through the rest of the process. He can’t help his quick glances at the clock and the door, silently pleading that Andrew and Dr. Washington are at least longer than five minutes away. Thomas works in silence, but he barely realizes it. He just wants to finish this and get out as fast as he can.

He adds the silica gel and stirs it quickly with a glass rod. He can’t help the bubble of disbelieving laughter that bubbles in his chest as he watches the fluid react to the purifying process and oxidation, attaching to the glass rod as he pulls it out. The substance forms a cloudy-colored web of adhesion. It stays attached as Thomas tries to pull the glass rod out. It’s strong. So strong, in fact, that Thomas can’t pull it out.

Thomas grabs the other flask of the same substance that they’d had on stand-by (in case Thomas had been wrong about the filter liquid or the silica gel), and pours it into a vial with a stopper. He stashes some silica gel and C12H8O2 in separate vials. He shoves them into the outside pocket of his backpack before quickly shedding his lab coat.

Before he races out of the lab, he leaves a note and enough change to cover the dinner he wouldn’t be eating.

Had to rush out. Thanks for the help. -Thomas

...

WGP Tags: @captain-loki-xavier, @human-dictionary @the-peculiar-bi-tch @mining-pup @band-be-boss-blog @asexual-trashbag @samathekittycat @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @theobsessor1 @always3charcoaltea @changeling-ash @logical-princey @crimsonshadow323 @flickering-raven @smokeyrutilequartz @dontbugmeimantisocial @liz-a-bell @black-king-white-knight @soijusthavetoask @analogical-mess @marvelfangeek09 @dolphidragon @thelowlysatsuma @approximately12lbs-of-ducks, @princelogical

#sanders sides #sanders sides au #sanders sides fanfiction #platonic lamp/calm #spider-man au #with great power #tw arguing

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maximows · 5 years

Text

Against the Odds - Chapter V

Doppleganger,

MASTERLIST (mobile) AO3

Warnings: a lil’ bit of smut (kinda), fluff, emotional distress, fighting,

I swayed my body along to the music coming from the large speakers at the edge of the stage. Bastille were playing Durban Skies and I closed my eyes to enjoy the beautiful sounds.

You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground Dig them up; let's finish what we've started Dig them up, so nothing's left untouched

I opened my eyes slowly as the song ended and the lead singer, Dan, started to talk to the audience. „Are you stoned?” Sebastian asked, standing right next to me, looking into my eyes carefully.

„What?” I narrowed my eyebrows. „Of course not.”

He tilted his head to the side, not letting it go. Well, he did let go, but just for another few songs, until the band left the stage. „So, what’s up? Why are you being so weird today?”

I sighed. „It's nothing, I guess is just wasn’t in the mood today.”

Seb stopped. „Bullshit,” he said. „You had an orgasm, as Chris put it, when you found out that I had tickets to see Bastille.”

I flinched a bit at the mention of Chris. „Let it go, Seba.”

„Oh my God, is it Chris?” he asked. „Have you guys been fighting? I mean it’s none of my business, but you’re both my friends and...”

„We're not fighting, Seb,” I interrupted him. „We broke up.”

Sebastian didn’t say anything and followed me, when I moved to start walking back to my car. I saw that he really wanted to ask, but didn’t know if he should.

“It happened two months ago,” I started as I settled in the driver's seat. “We had a fight and went our separate ways.”

“But why? You were so good together.” He shrugged, looking out the front window, as if searching for an answer.

“Chris is looking for a wife,” I stated. “and I’m just looking for a boyfriend.”

It had been a quiet night. Chris had seen my interview promoting a movie I’ve just filmed. It’s about a woman in her early twenties who gets pregnant and has an abortion, because the father of the baby isn’t willing to help her. After he finds out, he sues her, seeing this as an opportunity to get money.

In the interview, asked about my opinion on abortion, I said: “Well, I wouldn’t let myself get pregnant, if I didn’t actually want it to happen. But shit happens, you know? Pregnancy is a big deal and anyone who’s trying to restrain access to abortion is a terrorist. People think that it’s so easy, that it’s such an easy decision – it’s not. Which is why we need sex education, that’s what prevents abortion, not making it illegal.

And then, asked if I see myself settling down is the nearest future, I said: “Not for a long time, no. Having a family is a huge deal, I don’t feel like I'm ready for it.”

Chris didn’t like that. Not the idea of someone not wanting to settle down, of course. The idea of me, his girlfriend, not wanting to settle down right now.

He come up to me and sat on the couch next to me. “What did you mean by that?”

And that was the conversation I had feared. At more than 6 months of being together, Chris was comfortable enough to ask me about the possibility of being married and having children together. I still hadn’t been ready to talk about it, although I did think about it constantly.

“Chris, I’m 22,” I said. “I might want to have children in the future, but it’s definitely not now.”

“And I’m 33.” he stated. “And, uh, I think I’d prefer it to happen in a nearer future.”

In this very moment, I knew it was possibly the end of our relationship. Neither of us was going to give up on our needs. It was basically the moment, when we finally stopped lying to each other.

“Chris, I definitely won’t have kids before I’m 25. It might be 25 or 30. I can’t tell you that right now.”

“Well, I’m not getting any younger...” he sighed, sensing the same thing as me.

The whole conversation had been very awkward. We didn’t know what to say, because we were faced with an obvious thing we should’ve discussed months ago.

“Me neither.” I whispered, looking at the floor.

The conversation had escalated to a fight very quickly, though. It was a fight between two people who wanted to be together, but had non-negotiable terms.

“Are you really that afraid of commitment? You know I’m committed and responsible, you say you love me and yet you still can’t see yourself having a family with me in like 2 or 3 years!?”

By now, Chris was standing a few feet from the sofa. “I never said that! I only said that I cannot specify when I will definitely be ready to do that! It’s a big decision and I don’t want to regret it.” I explained, trying to be as calm as possible. The truth was, I was on the verge of tears.

“For me, it sounds like you don’t trust me,” he shrugged. “It feels like we’re wasting each other’s time.”

I raised my eyebrows. Is he being serious right now? “Are you fucking kidding me right now? You should have started our first conversation with ‘Hey, just curious, you wanna have a kid real soon?’ You wouldn't have to waste your time on me.” I yelled.

“You know very fucking well, that it's not what I meant.” He hissed. “But, yeah, we should've had that talk months ago. At least your commitment issues would've came out earlier.”

That was enough for me. From that moment I just yelled and yelled into his face about how he’s paranoid about anyone finding out too much about us, like he’s ashamed of me. About how he doesn’t want to confirm our relationship to the media, because he’s the one with commitment issues. And how he expects me to understand that he’s getting older and doesn’t want his children to be born too late, but at the same time doesn’t respect my choice of not having them until I’m at a certain point in my life.

And that was the end.

“I can’t believe it happened 2 months ago,” Sebastian said in disbelief. “I can’t believe he would act like that.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either.” I scratched the back of my head. “But that’s finished.”

I was sure that Sebastian wouldn’t just leave this matter. Too much of his party humor relayed on Chris' and mine relationship. I drove him back home and then back to mine.

The only thing keeping me going was work. I’ve had a busy couple of weeks and it’s been keeping my mind off the ugly break up. Tomorrow, I’m renewing my contract with Jaguar at their dealership in New York and giving some interviews afterwards. Next week, I’m flying back to the UK to film Top Gear. Thankfully, I hadn’t had to fly to LA for the last 2 months and it’s been refreshing.

The next day I woke up just in time to start preparing for my meetings. I had started to spend more and more time in bed, as if I were in the first stages of depression. My period didn’t help either. Thankfully, Hannah was always beside me and my friends were only one phone call away. I still had some trouble sharing stuff like that with my family, but it was still alright between us.

The car drove me to the Jaguar dealership in Manhattan, where I saw photographers waiting for me, as it was a media event. I went inside to greet the owner, who proceeded to show me some of their newest models. Later, I signed a promotion deal stating that I would become an ambassador for Jaguar. They also “premiered” a commercial starring Tom Hiddleston and I.

I took some pictures next to the cars, had a few short interviews talking about the cars, my preferences in cars and if I’m actually interested. “I grew up with two older brothers, so I don’t think I ever even expressed any interest in tea parties or dolls. They made me into an actual tomboy. My mom tried making me wear those cute dresses and I liked them, but always ended up coming back all dirty. I like cars very much, I know a lot about them, so I’m incredibly happy to be partnering with a company that is one of the best in the business.”

It was my time to leave, as I had a few more things to do. On my way back to the car, I found that the crowd outside had doubled at least. “Emilia, have you seen Chris’ new photos with Stella?”

“Are you guys off?”

“Is he cheating on you?”

I was a little bit distraught when I heard the first question. My heart sunk a little bit. It took me no time to find my phone, once the car door was closed.

I googled “Chris Evans” and felt years pool in my eyes.

What’s going on? Chris Evans was spotted out with his ex, Stella Smith. The pair have a rich history as an on and off couple. This shouldn’t be a surprise, right? It is, because the Captain America actor has been in a relationship with his Avengers co-star and gorgeous British actress, Emilia Dawson, since earlier this year and there have been no rumors of a break up.

Looking at this now, we do have to admit that Mr. Evans seems to have a pretty defined type. Kelly and Dawson do seem to look alike these days.

I looked at the photo of them walking their dogs and suddenly, I felt like cancelling all my plans. Until now, I still felt like our break up was just a temporary thing and we would find our way back to each other. The feeling of being replaced by just “another model” of me was making me nauseous.

I tried to pull myself together and make sure I looked as best as I could, when I walked into the studio. The make up artist has worked with me on numerous occasions and I saw that she wanted to ask me, but she never did. She did a great job giving my red eyes though.

It was a Vogue cover photo shoot, so I tried to switch my emotions off for the time being and do my best while I was there.

Hannah joined me when the photo shoot had already started and she could tell I knew. Normally, she would ask the photographer to cut the shoot short, but it’s not a thing you can do when it’s Vogue and Mario Testino.

By the time we were actually finished, I was pretty sure, I only wanted to bury myself under my bedsheets. Working on a photo shoot gave me too many opportunities for my mind to just wander off to places I didn’t want it to go to. I didn’t even ask them to remove my make up, because I desperately needed to go home.

“Em, I’m pretty sure it’s nothing,” Hannah assured me on our way to the car. “They’re probably just friends. And she’s not very busy, so maybe she was the only one he had.”

“They’re not friends. Things ended badly between them,” I snapped. “Can you get me an appointment at a hair-dressers today?” I asked.

Hannah raised her eyebrow and lifted her phone immediately. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Three hours later, I was off the chair at a salon, sporting a new haircut – blonde, shoulder length hair styled into beautiful waves. To be honest, that was incredibly impulsive of me. And stupid, probably. The only reason I did that was to make sure I’m not known as her doppelganger. That’s how salty I am.

That didn’t help me, still. She’s older, doesn’t work as much as I do and they’ve known each other for years. They could be trying to get back together. I mean, she could be willing to give Chris what he wants, without making him wait. Hair colour isn’t going to change anything.

As I was getting deeper and deeper into assumptions, I had already ordered my food for the evening. I asked the driver to let me out a little bit further away from my building, because I wanted some air. It was dark already and the streets seemed to me more quiet than usual, so it was a perfect moment for a short walk.

When I reached the reception of my building, the man behind the counter called me. “Ms. Dawson!”

I turned to face him. “Yes?”

“There’s something for you.” He barely managed to put a huge bouquet on the counter. I noticed a variety of flowers, many of which I couldn’t even name. “I’ll bring it upstairs for you.”

The receptionist set the bouquet on my kitchen island and once I was alone, I moved it to the middle. As it was so big, it was in a decorative wooden box. There was an envelope on the side. I saw “Emilia" written on it and immediately knew who it was from.

Emilia,

I am so sorry it took me such a long time to do this. I think you can imagine how many drafts I’ve created for this letter. At least I hope you can.

I had started to regret everything I said the moment you left my house. Or the moment you went to sleep to the guest bedroom, before the morning you left. I wish I had just shut my mouth, because this last month (I really have been writing this for a long time) has been simply one of the most awful periods of my life (it’s easily in TOP3).

I don’t want to get into details here, because that would be just another time when I’m talking and you have to listen to my bullshit. I only want you to know I sincerely apologize for how insensitive I was, how I refused to look at your point of view. I cannot believe that it took me so much time to remember that 11 years ago, having a family wasn’t my priority either.

I’ll be in New York tomorrow afternoon and I would love to see you. Let’s meet at 7pm in Central Park near the bench where you spilled a chocolate milkshake on your white pants (trousers). If you want to meet, please just text me “OK” and I will be there.

I love you,

Chris.

I saw that different paragraphs were written with different pens, which meant didn’t write this letter during one sit-down. I looked all the way down to see a post scriptum.

PS. I’ve just noticed the pictures paps took of me yesterday. How cliché will it be if I say that it wasn’t what it looked like?

I grabbed my phone immediately, but then had to stop myself for a moment. Should I?

On one hand, a meeting means nothing. I don’t have to go back to him immediately. Or go back to him at all. On the other hand, I might just want to drop to my knees in front of him the moment I see him.

“Ok.” I texted.

“You’re such a stupid weak bitch.” I whispered to myself.

My food care just in time for it to stop overthinking and imagining how tomorrow’s gonna end. I played some comedy shows and tried to just forget about everything. It really helped.

The next day I didn’t have to go out anywhere. It was the day I wanted to spend on memorizing my lines and reading scripts for new potential projects. But was I able to focus on anything? Of course not.

I kept thinking how should I act around Chris or what should I tell him.

What if he just wants to apologize and leave? What if he decided that there’s too many differences between us? I mean, should I just let him put babies in me or what?

I wrapped my coat tight around myself as I crossed the road to enter Central Park. The spot we were supposed to meet at wasn’t far from the gate I was entering through, so I tried not to look too needy or ready for reconciliation.

I was a little bit of a petty bitch. I made myself look more than presentable, in case things didn’t go well. I needed him to know when he was missing. And that thing he was missing was a girl hopelessly in love with him, stopping herself from just jumping into his arms and kissing life out of him.

I turned into the next alley and there he was. He was wearing a leather jacket with dark jeans and a baseball cap. Also, he brought Dodger with him. At least I can always say that I’m only crying because I’ve missed Dodger.

Chris was sitting, but when he noticed (and recognized) me, he stood up immediately. “Hey,” he took the NASA cap off as I approached him. “Wow, I barely recognized you, Emily...” He said.

“Um, hi.” I said, kneeling down to greet Dodger, who seemed to be very excited to see me.

“I mean, you look great, the colour suits you... Anyway, thank you for agreeing to see me,” Chris said, sitting back down on the bench. I sat next to him, keeping my distance. Once he was sure it was me, Dodger put his head on my lap expecting me to scratch him behind his ears. “I know it must’ve been a tough decision after what I said.”

“We both said things we shouldn’t have said.” I sighed, looking up from Dodger to Chris.

There was a moment of silence between us. We both wanted to say something, but were too afraid. The good thing was, I think we were on the same page. We both wanted to get back together.

“I’ll start,” Chris mumbled. “The last few weeks have been a torture. Not just because we broke up, but how we broke up. I hated the fact that I said some stupid, demanding things and then had no courage to reach out and apologize. I acted like a selfish idiot and the fact that I said things that hurt you has been keeping me up at night.”

“Chris, we both said things we didn’t mean,” I said. “We’re in different phases and it will cause conflicts. The only solution for that is finding other…”

“I don’t want anyone else.” He stated firmly. “I… I’m guessing you saw the photos of me with Stella. You know we had a very ugly break up. She called me asking to meet and fix this. I’m on good terms with all of my exes. I thought that maybe, if I talk to her, maybe it’ll help me to be a better partner to you. She actually wanted to get back together when she found out about us, but it wasn’t something I was interested in.” He paused for a moment. “Anyway, I thought about what you said and what I said. I was being my most selfish self in years. I knew how old you were when we met and I chose to just hope that your goals will meet mine. I just feel like… I hope it doesn’t make it sound trivial, but I feel like you tick all the boxes and I just don’t want to lose you…”

That was really all I needed to just run back into Chris’ arms. I mean, that’s all I’ve been thinking about since I saw him. “Chris, let me tell you something now,” I tucked some loose hair behind my ear. “I overreacted. I had been afraid of that topic since the day we met and the moment we started talking about it, I panicked. To be honest, I’ve always said that if I even choose to be a wife and a mother, it’ll be before I’m 30.” I explained, noticing a faint smile on Chris’ face. “And I hope it’s with you because I know you’re going to be an amazing father and husband.” I reached out with my hand to touch his.

He looked down at our intertwined fingers and smiled. “So are we on again? Because my mom’s going to kill me if we aren’t.”

I smirked. “I think we might be, but there’s still some less important stuff we need to discuss.”

Chris nodded. “I know, I know. But it’s a good start.”

I got even closer to Chris and nuzzled my nose into the crook of his neck. I inhaled his scent lightly and felt secure for the first time in weeks. “I’ve missed you so much, Evans.”

Chris wrapped his arms around my waist and brought me closer to him. “Let's go. Dodger is getting cold and it’s getting too dark here for me to look at you.”

We chose to go back to Chris' hotel because he had Dodger's food there. We agreed I’d spend the night there and then we’d move to mine.

Chris was taking a shower and I was just scrolling through my Instagram feed, when his phone ringed. It was right next to me on the bed, so I saw that the photo of me, sleeping with Dodger by my side was still his background. I smiled at it, but then got the stupid idea of going through Chris' phone.

No. No. No. No. “Em, can you check who texted me?”

I sighed and unlocked his phone (we know each other's codes). “It's Scott. He’s asking how it went.”

“Oh, uh, he means our meeting. So if you could just text him that we’re fine now.” Chris shouted back, so I took a photo of myself with my thumb up and a smile and sent it to him. Unfortunately, I am a stupid idiot, so right after that I checked Chris’ inbox to find text exchange with Stella from 2 days ago. There was nothing he hadn’t told me about, which made me feel way worse about myself.

“My mom was actually very mad at me for our break up,” Chris said as he left the bathroom in a towel around his waist. “She yelled at me and stuff.”

“I didn’t even tell my parents. My mum would probably freak out that it’s their fault, so I decided to wait to see if it’s... definite.”

Chris sat next to me, I laid across the bed so my head was on his lap. He put his hand on my cheek and stroked the flushed skin delicately. “I’m glad it’s not definite.”

I looked into his eyes for a moment. He was smiling so brightly; my heart was melting. “Chris, I checked your texts with Stella just a moment ago, I’m sorry.”

I was actually expecting him to be at least a little bit mad. “I’m not surprised,” he shrugged. “I mean, I did meet up with her 2 days before I came up here to ask you for forgiveness.”

“Yeah, but you explained and I should’ve believed you. And I’m not saying I didn’t, but I just saw the thread and... And by the way, I dyed my hair yesterday after seeing your photos with her and being compared to her.”

Chris’ eyes went wide open. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I know, it was really stupid.” I sighed. “I hated the idea of you being attracted to me only because I look like your ex.”

Chris combed my hair with his fingers delicately. “Please, stop. I love YOU, not your hair or whatever," Chris leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Let’s just forget about all of this and everything else tonight, ok?” He moved to my nose and then my lips.

I forgot how much I loved the feeling of his lips on mine. Especially now that he was growing his beard back. I love that rough sensation against my cheek every now and then.

I reached out with my hand to tangle my fingers into Chris' hair. He bit my lower lip delicately as his hand travelled to my neck. “I’ve missed your soft skin, miss.” He whispered against my lips. “And you always smell like strawberries, I’ve missed that in bed.”

I smiled and licked his upper lip playfully. “I missed your dog.”

Chris grinned and looked around the room. “Well, he seems to be asleep in the living room, so how about we do some catching up?” he moved his finger slowly across my collarbone, but I grabbed it and intertwined our fingers.

“Someone seems to have forgotten what time of the month it is.”

He seemed to be confused for a moment and then realized what I was talking about. “Ohh, right,” he sighed. “Hot chocolate, then?”

I got off his lap and walked up to my handbag. “I'll go take a shower. Can you give me like a shirt or something?”

“Yeah, I’ll leave it on the bed.” Chris nodded and reached for his phone.

I went into the bathroom. Since the first night I spent with Chris, I’ve been carrying spare underwear in case of such emergency. I took a quick hot shower, pulled on the underwear and quickly left the steamy bathroom so I could jump right under the covers. To be honest, Chris was incredibly pleased with me being topless in bed, but once there, I grabbed his shirt and put it on.

“Aw, why won’t you sleep without it.” He moaned.

“It’s not that comfortable when you actually have boobs.” I snuggled into his hot (literally) chest and hid myself under the covers. “This is a really nice hotel, why is it so cold in here?” I whispered.

“It's not, you just take insanely hot showers.” Chris lowered himself to face me and pulled me against him. “Now I can finally sleep in peace.”

The next morning I woke up with my cheek pressed against Chris' naked back. I could hear he was talking to someone on the phone, trying to be really quiet.

“... I mean, we did just get back together, Ma. I have to give her some space.” He whispered. “I can’t just say that were going to Boston for Thanksgiving...”

“Get me the Lisa Lasagne and I’m in.” I murmured against his skin before kissing it.

“Ok, she said yes.” Chris chuckled and listened to Lisa speak for a moment. “Mom wants to talk to you...” he handed me the phone over his shoulder.

I took it and turned to lay on my back. “Hey, Lisa.”

“Emilia, you have no idea how glad I am to hear your voice! Your break up had an awful impact on Christopher.” She started. “Anyway, so are you coming to Boston for Thanksgiving? I know you don’t celebrate it back home, so I though you could spend it with us.”

“I’d love to, very much. I’m looking forward to all of the delicious food you will make.” I said as Chris wrapped himself around my waist.

“I’ll definitely make more of that lasagne you like so much.” She assured me. “I’ll let you two spend some time alone, now that you’re back together. See you in a few weeks!”

“Bye!” I said and hung up. Chris was already peppering my lower stomach with delicate kisses. I tangled my fingers into his hair to scratch his head. “You won’t give up, right?”

He looked up at me while slowly lifting my (his) shirt. “I just can’t help myself.” He answered, taking my nipple between his teeth and pulling lightly. “I mean, people have period sex.”

He moved up to nibble on my neck and I acted my back a little at the sensation. “I’m off the pill.” I said. “I suppose you don’t have a condom.”

Chris fell back onto the bed next to me and sighed. “We should get going then, I’m really close to dying from blue balls.”

Once we were out, I held on to Chris' arm as we walked back to my flat and holding Dodger's lead. Chris decided to reschedule some of his meetings for today, so he wanted to walk me back and leave his stuff.

“Now that we're back on, how do you feel about me posting stuff about us on Instagram?” I asked. “I mean, like, sometimes, not all the time.”

He sighed. “Yeah, but not too much, you know I like to keep it all low-key.”

When we reached my building, Chris left his baggage in my bedroom and walked up to me. I was spread out on the sofa, waiting for my prince Charming to pay attention to me. “I should be back in two hours and then we can do whatever you want, alright?”

I nodded as Chris' hand found my chin to keep me in place while he bent down to kiss me. It was slow and sensual. I could barely hold back a moan. “Don’t kiss me like that, because I won’t let you out.” I murmured.

"I won't be long, baby girl," he grinned. "Take a nap, choose a movie, I'll buy all the chocolate snacks I can find on the way, alright?"

"God, Christopher."

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ms-katonic-of-tamriel · 4 years

Text

The Elder Cicero - AoD 82

I don’t normally post my fic to Tumblr but this chapter’s exciting enough to do it.

As the title suggests, New Cicero Backstory. Those of you who read Age of the Dragon but maybe stopped or not commented in a while, definitely give this one a read! Maybe even comment on it.

To sum up the story so far - Jarl Elisif the Dragonborn ended up in Thedas as Herald of Andraste. King Madanach of the Reach went after her with their daughter and a handful of others to find her, and ended up helping run the Inquisition that’s going to sort Thedas out.

The aftermath of the Halamshiral ball left Briala running Orlais from behind the scenes, with Gaspard de Chalons as Emperor. With that new power and access, Briala’s been looking into the background of one of the Inquisition, and managed to turn up things even she hadn’t expected. The trail’s led her and two new associates that she rescued from Red Templars thanks to Inquisition information to Montsimmard Circle, stronghold of the Loyalist mages. Now read on.

Meanwhile, far away from Skyhold, at Montsimmard Circle, someone else had a visit to make. Being the Loyalist stronghold, with Vivienne De Fer returning early in the mage rebellion and making it very clear that this Circle stood with the Chantry and the common folk of Thedas, it hadn’t seen the fighting many of the others had. Those sympathetic to the rebels had left but the Loyalists remained, and had taken in others from other Circles who wanted no part of the rebellion. Its library and laboratories were intact, its Templar garrison still present, albeit much reduced since Vivienne had taken most of the mages to Skyhold with her. But it wasn’t uninhabited either, and along with a few Templars to protect the building, a few elven servants to cook and clean, and some Chantry sisters to minister to those remaining, there were a few Circle members left. A few older mages who hadn’t felt up to making the journey to Skyhold and their young apprentices… and a great many of the Circle’s Tranquil, who were more use here where their tools and supplies all were.

It was one of those Tranquil that interested the visitor… and it had been the elven servants who’d confirmed that yes, he was alive and still here, still a master alchemist despite his advanced years. And so Marquise Briala had come, keen to get answers to a mystery that had bothered her for years. Official access to a great many files had answered a lot of questions… but left her with more.

Neither the Templars nor the Revered Mother had liked the idea of just letting her in to have access to one of their Tranquil, but they weren’t in a position to stop her either. Everyone knew who she was now, and her new mask spoke volumes. The design was a Marquise’s, with elven motifs. The materials were those only an Empress would use, and all Orlais knew it.

“He’s not in any kind of trouble,” Briala assured the Revered Mother. “I simply had questions. About events in his bardic life. We believe he has information that might prove useful to key members of the Inquisition, except they don’t know he has it yet. I would like to share my own intelligence with them, but I have to be sure it is true first. For that… I need to speak with him.”

The Revered Mother exchanged a suspicious look with the Knight-Commander, and Briala was near certain she’d have to use force… but she’d chosen her human companions wisely. Inquisition co-operation with the Imperial Army in clearing the roads of threats had alerted her to the fact the Inquisition were looking for them and that they might be captives of the Red Templars… and so as to save her new allies the effort, Briala had ‘suggested’ to Gaspard that the Imperial Army work with her scouts to rescue them. At worst they’d wipe out a Red Templar cell. At best… an Aequitarian mage and his noble-born Templar lady friend were assets Briala could use. And now they were recovered from their captivity, she was doing just that.

Former Knight-Captain Evangeline de Brassard stepped forward in Templar armour repaired and gleaming, and stared down the Knight-Commander.

“For Andraste’s sake, man, we’re not here to interrogate him. The Marquise has questions. The Inquisition, for whom you are all working by the First Enchanter’s express command, would find the answers of interest. Now are you going to let us talk to him or do we have to go back and tell Inquisitor Elisif and Sister Nightingale that we might have information but it might be completely worthless because you wouldn't let us talk to the man who might confirm its value?”

The Knight-Commander spluttered at someone who was not only a rank down from him but who was known to have absconded with the mage rebellion talking to him like that… but he glanced at Briala’s mask and the coquin masks on her elven guards and gave in, shoulders sagging.

“Forgive me, it is simply unusual for someone of your… station to come here in person,” he said, deliberately hesitating on the word station.

“The information is sensitive and these are unusual times,” Briala said, shrugging. “There are few others I can trust with this… and I felt I needed to see Monsieur LaRose for myself. His situation is also unusual as I understand it.”

“It is true he came to the Circle late in life and like many in that situation, it was felt we had no choice but to subject him to the Rite of Tranquillity,” the Revered Mother said, guarded. “Mages who are never properly trained by the Circle are at the mercy of their magic, Marquise. By the time they reach midlife, they are easy prey for any passing demon and often close to madness. It is kinder all round to give the rite.”

Briala idly wondered if she knew the real reason or was just repeating what she’d been told. Either way, it didn’t matter. She’d find out soon enough if her sources were true or not.

“That is true,” her other human companion said, stepping forward. Rhys, an Aequitarian with an interest in the spirit world. “But from what I heard, he was no hedge mage being driven mad by his powers, but a talented bard in his prime. I don’t think his powers were really the problem, were they.”

“Knight-Captain, tell your mage he’s out of line,” the Knight-Commander snarled, reaching for his sword. Briala’s guards raised bows, the Revered Mother cried out, Evangeline moved to stand between Briala and Rhys and the oncoming Templars… and Briala raised her voice.

“Knight-Commander! We’re not here to lay blame on anyone or dig up old grudges. I just wish to speak with him. Rhys. Please. Leave the talking to me. I know you have your thoughts… but let’s all reserve judgement until we’ve spoken with him, hmm?”

The Knight-Commander put his sword back and motioned for the approaching Templar reinforcements to stand down.

“Fine, Marquise. But you should know his Tranquillisation was authorised personally by the then Divine. Due to his, er, circumstances.”

Divine Beatrix, newly crowned in the early Dragon Age, and likely to overreact, still unsure in her authority. Sadly, the years, rather than giving her an elder’s wisdom, had given her senility instead. Briala could see it happening, and Rhys and Evangeline clearly did too.

“We understand,” Briala said softly. “May we speak with him?”

The Knight-Commander turned to the Revered Mother, who nodded permission.

“Yes, if he’s willing. But he’s an old man,” she added. “He’s in good health but too much excitement and he becomes tired. He gets headaches. It’s not good for him.”

Briala was absolutely certain being made Tranquil against his will hadn’t been good for him either, but she wasn’t so foolish as to say it. Still, if what Rhys and Evangeline had told her was true, she might be able to right a wrong yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Tranquil they were after had a particularly ornate office all to himself, a personal workroom with quarters off to one side, various potions bubbling, alchemy tomes lining the walls along with jars of ingredients, and sitting at the bench in the middle, an old man around seventy was dicing some elfroot. Despite his age, the precision knifework involved was impressive. A side effect of tranquillity? Or a reminder he’d once been a very skilled bard. Briala wasn’t sure and didn’t like to ask.

She’d told the guards to wait in the corridor, but Rhys and Evangeline had accompanied her in, Evangeline standing watch by the door, and Rhys looking with interest at the various potions.

“Do not touch that one,” the Tranquil said, not looking up from his root-slicing and Briala felt her breath catch in her throat as she heard the accent. The language was smoothly-spoken Thedosian in the Orlesian dialect he no doubt used as his every day tongue… but Briala could hear it in the vowel sounds and the way every hard consonant seemed to expect a vowel after it, despite Orlesian not doing that. The files on him suspected Tevinter ancestry, but the sound was more flowing than that, slightly elven if anything.

Briala only knew one place in all of the world, all of the great wide world called Nirn, as it turned out, where there were humans speaking a language related to elven tongues. And only one other person whose accent so closely matched this man’s.

“Cesaire?” the Revered Mother was saying gently. “Monsieur Cesaire, you have visitors. Important ones. This is Marquise Briala. She is the new Marquise of the Dales and a very important advisor to Emperor Gaspard himself.”

Cesaire looked up at that, as close as a Tranquil ever got to surprised, tilting his head slightly. His long silver hair was tied back out of his eyes, a bard or fool’s motley exchanged for a mage’s work robes, soft brown eyes staring back at Briala with an intelligence that would once have been deadly for anyone crossing his path… but now leashed by the Chantry to making the Inquisition’s potions.

Oddly, his skin was not far off hers in colour, light-brown not the winter pale she’d expected. She wondered what colour his hair had been once.

“Yes, Mother, I remember you speaking of her after Empress Celene died,” Cesaire said calmly. “I believe you called her a jumped-up knife-ear with ideas above her station taking shameless advantage of our beloved Empress’s death.”

No emotion whatsoever on his face or any indication he’d said anything untoward, just motionless eyes and slow-blinking, but Briala could swear that some part of him was taking pleasure in embarrassing his Revered Mother.

“I… I said no such...” she gasped, face turning scarlet as she turned to Briala. “Please, forgive him, he does not always know what he says.”

“Perhaps I could have a little time alone with the monsieur?” Briala asked, repressing a smile. She had a feeling Cesaire knew exactly what he was saying… and while he couldn't do much about the institution that had broken him and enslaved him, he might take some pleasure in small victories.

The Revered Mother was only too happy to make her exit, and Briala perched herself on a nearby stool, watching him work. Once the door had closed, he’d returned to his elfroot preparation as if no one else was there.

Briala waited for him to speak, but he said nothing, and in the awkward silence, she glanced helplessly at Evangeline. What were the social niceties for talking to a Tranquil?

“Don’t expect him to speak first,” Evangeline said, amused. “He’s a Tranquil. You’ve got a reason for being here, so he assumes you’ll tell him eventually. If not, it’s not his problem and you’re free to go elsewhere. He’s got work to do.”

Cesaire did glance up at that, seeming to approve.

“You are a Templar. But not one of the usual ones. But not new either, Cesaire can tell a recruit. You served in a Circle once. Another one. An Orlesian one? This one is the last. There are no others now. Cesaire heard the Templars have gone Red and joined Corypheus. Cesaire is fond of red, but apparently this kind is different. Enchanter, please step away from the apparatus.”

Rhys stepped away from the still bubbling with something that looked like liquid ice, if ice could boil.

“What is it?” Rhys asked, fascinated. “It looks like some sort of frost enchantment?”

“It is for that elf at Skyhold who likes to coat herself in alchemical concoctions for maximum offensive impact,” Cesaire said, pointing at a stool next to Briala’s for Rhys to sit on. “Apparently another there wishes to learn the art as well. That Harlequin of the Herald of Andraste’s, Red Cicero.”

Cesaire’s tongue tripped on the name, and he paused, placing his tools down, hand actually shaking.

“Forgive me, I get these tremors lately,” Cesaire said quietly. “I don’t know why. The work normally is enough to calm me. The healers say my body is healthy, but… if I could still worry, I would. But if I could still worry, worry would not be the first emotion on my mind.”

He turned around to face Briala and Rhys, head tilted, expression strangely curious. Curiosity with no desire. He wanted to know why they were here but didn’t really want to.

No wonder people thought Tranquil were weird, and no wonder her guards had been all too relieved to wait outside. Some of them had been cooks and cleaners in Circles before.

“Marquise Briala is a very important person, so I am told. Humble Cesaire did not know his fame as an alchemist had reached even the Winter Palace. You did not need to come all this way in person, madame. You could have placed an order with the Senior Enchanter. Most do.”

“I wasn’t here for a potion,” Briala said softly, reaching up to remove her mask. “I wanted to see you in person. To see if my suspicions were correct.”

The ribbons came loose and the gold and diamond monstrosity finally came free of her face. It was a relief really.

Cesaire grasped the symbolism, and Tranquil he might be, but his bard’s instincts hadn’t gone away.

“Marquise?” Cesaire asked, expression shifting subtly. “I regret to inform you alchemy is the only service I can provide, I do not think I am worth much as a paramour.”

“You weren’t always an alchemist, were you,” Briala said quietly. “My sources were reliable and the documents in the classified Orlesian archives also have much information. I know your past. You were a bard once, one of the best in the Empire.”

Cesaire barely reacted, but his lips twitched in an unconscious mannerism, giving away… something. Something in that ambiguity was raising the ghost of amusement. Which Empire? Which indeed.

“Alas, those days ended,” Cesaire said, hands resting in his lap. For some reason, his eyes dropped to look at them. “I used my magic to save a brother bard’s life… and instead of gratitude, he looked at me as if I was some sort of monster. I did not understand, for he had never been the religious type. Days later the Templars came and my employer could not protect me. Apparently discreetly stabbing people and going through their belongings is morally acceptable but using healing magic to save the life of your injured colleague is not. I do not understand this place sometimes. That was my undoing.”

“You were a healer?” Rhys asked, intrigued. Cesaire shrugged.

“Not exactly. Raistarazione magic was a… something I was required to learn. It is useful, no doubt… but my specialty was Ahltaira- forgive me. My specialty was manipulating inanimate objects. I was always nimble and agile, make no mistake… but it is easier to Not Be There when a sword is coming at you if your mind can shift its direction. Or deflect an arrow a little. Everyone always thinks fireballs when they think of magic, or demons and blood pacts. They never think of the man who gets shot at plenty of times but mysteriously is never hit by anything. It was a source of great satisfaction and amusement to me once. But those days are over, Enchanter, Knight-Sister, Marquise. This was nearly forty years ago. You will forgive humble Cesaire if he believes the intrigues he was involved in then cannot possibly be relevant now.”

“That is true,” Briala said, taking her time, raking her gaze over every part of this man’s features, every part of this man’s face, and seeing cheekbones she’d seen before, entire facial structure she already knew… because she’d seen it before, at the Winter Palace, in the face of a dying, bleeding man she’d saved from a Harlequin, only to see him healed by the Reach-King minutes later. A man who’d showed only relief and gratitude to a mage, not suspicion and revulsion, and who would not have understood why anyone would object to being healed from certain death. Just like his kinsman, who’d learnt to pretend to be an Andrastian Thedosian but who never would really get them.

Cicero the Younger had the Herald of Andraste’s backing and a mage rebellion destroying the Circles for him. Cicero the Elder had had none of that.

“They aren’t why I’m here, Cicero,” Briala said, not taking her eyes off a face that barely moved… but the eyebrows flickered slightly.

A man with no emotions but an assassin’s training might do many things, and Briala became uncomfortably aware that there were a lot of sharp tools and glass in this workroom, not to mention all the toxic reagents.

Fortunately, Cicero the Elder glanced at Rhys, then over his shoulder at Evangeline, at Evangeline’s sword in particular, then back to Briala.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” Cesaire/Cicero said calmly. “I am a master Formari alchemist and my name is Cesaire LaRose. Nothing more, madame.”

“Don’t give me that!” Briala cried, wishing her own emotions could be shut off so easily. “I know who – what you are! What you really are! I’m actually trying to help you! I – mere d’Andraste, I know why they really Tranquillised you. A bard apostate who’d clearly been well trained in both arts and no one knew who’d trained you – the Emperor’s court were involved, Cicero. They thought you were a Tevinter spy, even though Tevinter denied knowing who you were. And you wouldn’t talk, you refused to give them anything. So eventually the Divine ended up making the decision, seeing as Emperor Florian didn’t seem to care, and Grand Duchess Melisande was keen to wash her hands of the whole mess. And she had you made Tranquil on the grounds you could do no harm as one of them. No one ever did find out where you were really from. Until I finally put the pieces together after reading about all this. You were definitely a spy… just not from Tevinter.”

Cicero was saying nothing, just staring at her levelly.

“You have done a lot of research into me,” he said, still with that eerie almost-monotone, hands twitching in his lap. Hissing, he glanced at them.

“My pardon, the tremors again,” Cicero said, deliberately flexing his fingers. “Also the headaches. They are worse when I have visitors and cannot distract myself with work.”

“Marquise, do you think we should go-” Rhys began, but Briala shook her head, suddenly realising what they really were.

“You’re from a culture where it’s normal to move your hands while talking,” Briala realised, remembering Cicero of the Inquisition fidgeting constantly in formal situations and only when he could finally relax and move his hands while talking did he finally look comfortable. But the hand movements followed emotions and a Tranquil without them…

“The tremors are your body wanting to move your hands but the emotions aren’t there any more,” Briala guessed. “Likewise the headaches, you want to feel something but can’t. This is bothering you, but you can’t feel or express it any more. Is that right?”

Cicero sat upright, eyebrows flicking up, new information being digested.

“Yes!” Cicero said, and almost-pleasure was there again. “You might be right! Madame la Marquise is very clever! Alas, without a cure for Tranquillity, I suppose the tremors and headaches are there for good. That is probably for the best. I think I would be very angry if I was cured. But if I take painkilling remedies and remember the breathing exercises, all will be well. I have my work. It is enough.”

“It’s not,” Rhys whispered, appalled. “Marquise, this isn’t right. It’s bad enough with the Chantry tranquillising dangerous mages, but as part of the Game?? His magic was under control, and he used it to help someone! Marquise, I… what we spoke of before… I think I could do it. With the right facilities, and Montsimmard must have them.”

“In good time,” Briala said, touching Rhys’s arm. The Tranquil cure wasn’t widely known outside the mage rebellion itself and high-level Chantry circles, but Briala had a way of finding things out. When she’d heard the mage who’d discovered it and his Templar companion were captives of Corypheus… she’d had to intervene. Far too valuable as assets to waste, and here they were, with her now, being assets.

“But if he was definitely a spy for someone… who?” Evangeline demanded. “I know he’s an old man, but… we can’t just let a foreign agent go.”

“An excellent question from the clearly very bright Templar, and there are not many of those,” Cicero said, turning round to return to his work. “And one I am not going to answer. Good day.”

Briala rolled her eyes and motioned for Rhys to pick her bag up. Taking a book out of it, she tossed it on to Cicero’s desk.

“I know, Cicero,” Briala told him. “You don’t need to protect your Empire any more. It can protect itself now, and its existence will be public knowledge soon enough. Rhys, Evangeline, this information cannot leave this room until that day comes.”

“Rise of the Dragonborn,” Rhys read, scanning the title. “The new Tethras novel? Is that the one everyone says is based on the Herald and set in some fictitious mountain Avvar kingdom.”

“Yes,” Briala said, watching Cicero closely. “Except it’s not exactly fictitious is it? Skyrim’s real, isn’t it, Cicero. So is the Tamrielic Empire, and it’s becoming very obvious they’ve had spies here for a very long time.”

“Seriously??” Evangeline practically exploded. “The Tamrielic Empire’s real?? And they’ve been spying on us since… since before I was born?”

“Yes, and we Tranquillised one of their agents,” Briala said, staring at Cicero who was staring at the garish front cover of Alayna the Dragonborn staring at the reader with one foot on a dead dragon and the other hidden behind the shield with the diamond dragon on it. A shield that Cicero was tracing the outline of, almost in shock.

“I do not normally read fiction any more, it is difficult to get any enjoyment out of it now,” Cicero said, picking the book up and turning it over to read the blurb on the back. “But… I think this one might interest me. May I… borrow this?”

“Yes, Sieur Di Rosso, you may borrow it,” Briala said, inclining her head. “It was what I came here to tell you. You could go home. To… it’s Cyrodiil you come from, isn’t it? The big city?”

“The Imperial City,” Cicero said, without thinking. “I… before they… while I was a prisoner in Val Royeaux… the thought of home kept me from breaking. Were I not like this, I believe I would wish to see it again. I had family there once.”

Briala just bet he had.

“Who? A wife? Children?”

“Not there, no,” Cicero said, shaking his head. “My sister. Stelmaria. And her little boy. Also called Cicero. Like me. He would be a grown man now. I have not seen him these last few decades. He was eight, nearly nine, on my last visit home. I wonder if he still remembers me.”

Slowly, Cicero the Elder sat up, wincing as joints creaked as he turned back to Marquise Briala.

“Marquise. You knew my name. My real name. Because my nephew shares it… and you know him, don’t you. He followed in my footsteps, didn’t he, and he works for the Inquisition.”

Briala nodded, a lump in her throat as she recalled Morio Sicarius, the brave if demented assassin who Tethras had made pop right off the page, and when she’d met the man behind the motley, she’d realised he’d only embellished a little. Cicero Di Rosso, one of the few humans she’d ever cared about. And here was his uncle. A Tranquil, imprisoned by the Chantry.

“Yes,” Briala said softly. “I’ve met him. He’s good at what he does. He’s a lot like you.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Cicero said. “I would be proud of him, I think. I… I have heard of the Tranquil cure. I don’t know the details, but it appears the Enchanter here does. I do not wish the cure right now. I would be angry. And upset. But… if <i>il dolcetto</i> is here and remembers me… if he wishes to see me… I will risk that so he does not see me like this. If he does not wish to see me… then leave me this way. Easier not to feel anything.”

Briala hoped for his sake that the younger Cicero did remember his uncle. As it was though, she had one other piece of information to share. Now that she knew Cicero the Elder hadn’t had a woman in each port so to speak, and that the younger one was a nephew not a son, she felt better airing it.

“There’s something else. I know about your wife, Oisine. Looking into her was what set me on your trail in fact, all the other things came out of that. I wasn’t looking for a Tamrielic agent. I was after the man who fathered the child of Oisine, an elven servant in the Vasseur household many years ago. I suspected a noble who’d taken advantage, and when I found her linked to one of Lady Cecilie’s bards, I had no reason to doubt that… until one of my agents turned up a marriage certificate. A secret ceremony but a legitimate one, between Oisine and Cesaire LaRose. I looked into that name and realised you were arrested by Templars not that long after the wedding. Did you know she’d been pregnant at the time?”

Cicero was silent, but he did nod.

“Yes. We had names picked out and everything. Oisine wasn’t sure about a son being called Septimo but she adored Leliana as a girl’s name. It was my mother’s name, you see. I still don’t know what happened to the child. Or Oisine. I suppose they told her I’d died.”

“I suppose they did,” Briala said, heavy in her heart and just glad he wouldn’t feel the full force of emotion over this. “I’m sorry. She died years ago. But little Leliana’s alive and well and thriving. She doesn’t know about you though. Should I… tell her?”

A pause. A hesitation. And then a shake of the head.

“No. Not yet. Give me time to think on this. I should read this too. It is fiction but not all of it, I think. You will leave me a means of reaching you, yes?

“I will do that,” Briala promised. “Come on. We’ve taken enough of this poor man’s time. I’m sure he has work to do.”

Cicero Di Rosso the Elder nodded as they saw themselves out, before ringing the bell on his desk and reaching for the talking crystal.

“Hello to the kitchen staff. Master Di R- Master LaRose speaking. Could I have some elfroot tea please? And some of the willowbark pills please. The headaches are going to be particularly bad today. I can already tell.”

How a man was supposed to get any work done around here, he was sure he had no idea. He hoped no one needed any important potions today. Best to focus on the healing mist. If Madame Sera of Skyhold got in a fight, she’d have to manage without setting herself on fire.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Briala led both Rhys and Evangeline into an empty lecture room, had her guards wait outside and then perched herself on one of the desks, feet on the chair in front of it. She never had been good at sitting in human chairs properly.

Rhys and Evangeline were still standing, and Briala belatedly recalled she was de facto ruler of Orlais now, people weren’t allowed to sit in her presence until she gave them permission.

“Sit down, the pair of you,” Briala sighed. “I suppose you have questions.”

Rhys sat down first. While his injuries from Red Templar activity were mostly healed, he still tired easily. Not remotely ready for active service yet, and Briala had had reservations about bringing him… but she was glad he was here. It seemed he was on side already.

Sadly, the same could not be said for his Templar friend.

“Tamriel is real, not just a story, and they’ve been spying on us for years?” Evangeline demanded. “How long have you known this? What do they want? Are we safe? Is Corypheus working for them? Marquise, if this gets out…!”

“Then help make sure it doesn’t,” Briala snapped. “Evangeline. I’ve known of Tamriel for a few months now, there were stories circulating in the mage rebellion before the book came out. I didn’t know about the spies until I started looking into Cesaire, and I didn’t know for sure until I spoke to him. He looks exactly like an older, darker-skinned version of Red Cicero of the Inquisition. The accent’s the same, the speech patterns – if he wasn’t Tranquil, he’d doubtless be fluttering his hands every other word like the other one does. There’s stories of the other Cicero using magic too. Something about a demon horse, and I rather think he’s using the same tricks his uncle used to. Too many stories of him pulling off the impossible. As for what they want – that’s for me to worry about. But I don’t think they’re enemies – at least, they don’t have to be. And as for Corypheus… you’ve read the book. You must have worked out Alayna and Maranil are based on the Herald and her husband.”

“I know but… it can’t be real, surely?” Evangeline whispered, shaking her head. “Tethras wouldn’t just… where would he get his information form? He’s not a Tamrielic spy as well, is he?”

“No,” Briala said, shaking her head. “He’s their publicist. Alayna is really Elisif and she got Varric Tethras to write her story. While I’m sure he’s embellished and added things, I’d be surprised if she didn’t approve the final draft. How she got to Thedas is anyone’s guess. Maybe Andraste really did hand her out of the Fade to save us. It makes as much sense as any other theory at this point. But she’s Dragonborn, High Queen of Skyrim, and heir apparent to the Imperial Throne of Tamriel, and she’s leading the fight against Corypheus. Who, I might remind you, claims to be a resurrected Tevinter magister. He is an all too Thedosian phenomenon.”

“Tamriel’s had spies for forty years or more… and they never revealed themselves or did anything,” Rhys whispered.

“Not that we’re aware,” Briala admitted. “But there’s so much we don’t know – Cesaire was just the one who got caught. There may be many others living rather quieter lives. Still. The time of Tamrielic secrecy is coming to an end. Queen Elisif, who is our Herald of Andraste, had this published, and I am fairly certain it was so when Tamriel announces itself, we don’t all panic. Oh, it’s possible she might just go quietly home after all this is done… but she’s the future Empress. She knows we exist now. We’ve all heard of her. She has ties here, favours owed, rulers in her debt, her Inquisition both enabling my rise to power and Queen Anora being able to set up her own Chantry unmolested. There’s even Orlesian and Fereldan peace talks coming up with Josephine Montilyet facilitating them. Elisif’s written to both Gaspard and myself hoping we can reach an accord with Anora – I imagine Anora’s had the same. No ruler in her right mind is just going to go home to Tamriel and leave all this behind her. Our links to the Inquisition are going to end up turning into treaties with Tamriel, I am sure. I… am actually not displeased by this. Mages aren’t penned up in Circles. They don’t share our faith but they aren’t interested in enforcing theirs. They’re a human Empire but their non-human citizens are treated a lot better than elves are here. I’m looking forward to working with them. At least, I was until I realised we have Tranquillised a relative of someone high up in the future Empress’s court! Now do you see why this is important? Now do you realise why you’re both here??”

Evangeline had gone very quiet as she remembered Morio Sicarius’s backstory.

“Red Cicero is Morio Sicarius,” she whispered. Briala nodded.

“I’m afraid so. And you remember in the book he lost his only relative, his beloved mother, to the Great War, and that trauma sent him into the Brotherhood’s arms, and it was only the promise of a new family with the Reachfolk that got him out of there and made him into a better person.”

Evangeline nodded, remembering.

“But if his uncle is alive, was here all along… if the timelines are right, the war took place after he was made Tranquil.”

“Yes,” Briala said grimly. “If Cicero the Elder hadn’t been captured, if he’d still been a serving bard, do you think they might have recalled him during the war? Or he might have returned home anyway if he heard the Imperial City had fallen. He couldn’t have saved his sister, but he might have been able to find his nephew and save him. Cicero’s spent his entire adult life thinking he was alone in the world with no blood kin and reaching for family wherever he could. How do you think he’s going to react when he finds his uncle is alive but the Chantry made sure that uncle could never be there for him.”

Not well, and neither Rhys nor Evangeline needed reminding Red Cicero was a trained assassin.

“Anyone in a Chantry robe could get murdered,” Rhys whispered. “Maker, what do we do?”

“Or he goes to Elisif and she gets the Chantry disbanded entirely,” Evangeline said, sinking into a chair, hands in her hair. “Andraste have mercy.”

“It need not come to that,” Briala said. “I know Elisif. She’s not without compassion. But this needs careful handling. Because it’s not just Cicero. You recall he had an unborn child, a girl called Leliana.”

“Yes,” Rhys said, eyes widening as the truth dawned on him. “Isn’t the Inquisition spymaster called that. The Divine’s former Left Hand. I met her, you know. She’s got red hair too. She’s got paler skin and blue eyes not brown but… the face is very similar.”

“We didn’t just make a Tamrielic agent Tranquil but Sister Nightingale’s father too??” Evangeline gasped. “Can this get worse?? She’s a candidate for Divine, if she finds this out…!”

“I know, which is why she needs to find out before she takes the Sunburst Throne,” Briala said. “I don’t know how she’ll react but… He’s an old man. I don’t know how long he has left. I’d like to reunite them if I can. A show of goodwill and all that. And if he’s willing, I’d like him cured of Tranquillity. That will be a delicate undertaking and I’ll need the Inquisitor on side to help deal with the consequences. She’s a compassionate type and Cicero and Leliana both respect her. If anyone can help Cesaire post-cure, it’s her. But in the meantime… I have people of my own infiltrating this Circle but I’m concerned my visit will arouse suspicion. Especially if our friend here keeps needling the Revered Mother. He doesn’t feel emotions any more, but he clearly still remembers how to manipulate other people’s. I think he might need protecting.”

“Then we’ll stay and protect him,” Evangeline promised. “Andraste, Marquise, the only reason he’s lasted this long is because everyone thinks a Tranquil is harmless and he had no kin of consequence. He’ll need guarding, and I know how to protect mages. Including from other Templars.”

“And he’ll need company,” Rhys added. “I can help with the apprentices here, and be someone for Cesaire to talk to. And if he changes his mind about the cure… if need be, it can happen here, although personally I think you’re right in that maybe the Herald should be involved.”

Exactly what Briala had been hoping for. It was always nice when people volunteered for the thing she was going to order them to do anyway.

“I’ll speak to the Revered Mother,” Briala told them, getting up. “Thank you, both of you. I appreciate this more than you know. I can ensure you’re both well compensated for this – in fact,

I believe I might even be able to obtain the Brassard-Manot estate from its current owners. It should go back to the family who deserve it, don’t you think? And you and Rhys will need somewhere to live after all this.”

Evangeline could barely speak, but Rhys took her hand and thanked Briala fervently.

It was rather gratifying to have two humans just treating her like a person, and an important one at that. Briala still wasn’t used to this. Particularly when the Revered Mother and Knight-Commander both still seemed suspicious despite the surface politeness. She hoped Rhys and Evangeline would be all right here. She suspected they’d be fine but even so, two veterans of the mage rebellion at the Loyalist stronghold might well cause tension.

Stepping outside the Circle tower with her guards in tow, she was surprised to run straight into a small patrol of the Orlesian Army. Gaspard’s men, and high-ranking ones at that.

“Marquise,” the chevalier in charge called, dismounting. “There has been a… situation. The Emperor requires your advice. Here.”

Despite Inquisition protection, Briala could never be sure that each Orlesian battalion wasn’t the one that was going to piss on that and arrest her anyway… or worse. Thankfully, it wasn’t this one, it seemed. Reading the letter, her eyes widened as she read of the capture of Thom Rainier by the Inquisition… and Elisif’s request to have them carry out judgement via trial by combat. Versus darkspawn.

“Is this… serious?” Briala gasped. “And His Majesty’s opinion on this? He must have one. The massacre was done in his name even if he disavowed it.”

“His Majesty is… undecided. I believe he feels the gallows a kinder fate, as do we all… but many of us also think we should let the Herald have her way for that very reason. But… none of us are easy with sending a man to the Blight.”

Nor was Briala, but it seemed the decision was to be left to her. Well, she had asked for this.

“Don’t we have one of the participants in custody ourselves. And there’s more on the run, aren’t there. We never caught them all.”

“His Majesty seems to think that Rainier having been caught and confessing to having given the order and lying to his men about who they were attacking and why absolves them,” the chevalier said, masked helmet hiding his expression. Briala could see the reasoning, and it did save the Empire resources… even if the just following orders defence rankled.

“They could have stopped the moment they saw children in that carriage,” Briala said firmly. “Blood is on their hands too… but I suppose someone who can reliably identify Rainier may be useful. Go back to His Majesty and tell him this. I will go to Skyhold myself and meet with the Herald. I had business there anyway, I will raise this in person and let him know the outcome. I want the man in custody, Mornay is it? Transfer him to Skyhold too, I want him to identify Rainier for me. If he co-operates, I’ll consider releasing him. Don’t tell Mornay that. As for the others… the Orlesian Empire has bigger concerns. Don’t waste resources looking for them. We’ll see how things are after this situation is resolved.”

It never rained but it poured. Still, hadn’t Briala intended Skyhold to be her next port of call anyway? Now seemed like a most opportune time indeed.

#cicero #skyrim #dragon age #Age of the Dragon #fanfic

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kierongillen · 6 years

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Writer Notes: The Wicked + the Divine: The Funnies

Spoilers, obv.

I suspect this will lean a little shorter than usual, partially because it’s more an editorial, sitting back position than any other issue of WicDiv and partially as DIE is out tomorrow, and there’s a lot of plates I’m keeping spinning.

But let’s see, eh?

Last year, when we did the Christmas Special, doing a comedy special was the other option. We decided to keep that in the can, simply because I was trying to visualise what on earth it would be like. Would I ask people to write stuff? Would I write it all? Could I somehow get The Wicked + the Canine to fill the whole issue? We went for Jamie’s idea (which required less conceptual engineering, so was easy, despite being more actual writing work) and saved this for the end.

Which is nice. End of school party, right?

Jamie/Matt’s Cover: Jamie and I have a piece of performance twitter, where I make puns and he pretends to hate them. Okay, that’s not true at all. He hates them, as is only right, as they are designed to be hated. When we have Skype calls, and Chrissy and I sit beside each other, when I drop a pun, Chrissy makes a face which… well, Jamie’s wants to grab it as a gif. It’s quite the thing.

Anyway – a variety of responses to puns. The pun is, I suspect, the best one I’ve dropped on twitter. One day I’ll write an essay on What I Do With Puns. But not today. It didn’t get a ludicrous number of retweets when I dropped it (and deleted my whole stream, as I do sporadically – don’t worry, I store everything before I do). It had an afterlife though being reblogged on tumblr (I think last time it was about 130k interactions), used in big websites’ pun round-ups, put on T-shirts and straight up stolen and tweeted by other people.

So let’s stick it on a cover, and show the variety of responses to it. Of course, Baph would like it.

I really like what Matt did with the colours here as well.

Margaux Saltel’s cover: Margaux is great. I got to know her distantly when C was editing superfreaks, and actually got a chance to hang properly at this year’s thought bubble. She’s got a real playfulness to her art, which this fascinating design sense. Adorable big dog staring at the reader was the first thing I thought of when planning this issue, really.

IFC

Intro page to explain what’s going on, with pop-comic design by Sergio, headlines courtesy of C. If you haven’t read it, give it a scan, because I big up all our collaborators.

How did we decide how to ask? Far too many options. Our comic friends are very funny. We tended to ask people as it occurred to us, see how many pages they wanted to do, and then work out how many pages we had left

The Wicked + the Canine

I lured Erica into this by basically promising her to draw six pages of as many dogs as she liked. Write for your artist.

The pun was basically to amuse Chrissy, and grew into a story. I thought it could be longer (and it could have) but realised it’s best to cut it short – the backbone of Ananke as trainer, and the dogs as untrainable pups, is basically the core of it. Plus the big kick in seeing everyone done in dog form.

I threw some ideas into the mix of how the dogs could be differentiated (For example, Sakhmet as a cat and Woden as clearly-not-a-puppy in a cone of shame) but really left it to Erica to draw whatever dogs she liked. I actually suggested they all be Labradors, but Erica wanted to stretch and play, and it’s all wonderful. The worry is in terms of race-coding the dogs, which is something we avoided.

I think my favourite is Baphopup.

The white-background and “get in the sack” is a wonderful bit of cartooning. How the lack of background stresses it all.

That it was basically done to make C laugh means that it’s part of a history of my dog based comics, which also includes the Christmas issue of Journey Into Mystery, where Loki has to give away seven hell-hounds. I think Thori is the character I co-created for the Marvel Universe who has had the longest life in terms of being used by other people. Adorable sweary murderous puppies can’t go wrong.

I’m pleased that people seemed to like it. That it’s a six page story where the joke is “Evil old lady doesn’t throw trusting pups in the river” is not exactly family comedy special material. I suspect if you’ve stuck along with WicDiv this far, you know what we’re like.

This is also a story which implicitly spoils the book, in terms of Ananke being a shameless manipulator of the pups. A lot of the stories are similar, which means this is a comic designed for relief of those who came along for all the issues.

The Wicker + the Divine Lizz Lunney is one of my favourite British cartoonists, and whole fierce scowl has petrified me for the decade or so I’ve known her. Lunney hadn’t read much of WicDiv before, so we lobbed her the PDFs, and found something fun to mock in terms of how ludicrously call-back-y we are.

Go support her stuff. She’s great.

The Lost God

Chip’s just a phenomenon, and his rising career across the last decade has been basically the most delightful surprise in the period. Immediately I have to swallow the urge to do the usual “Because he’s rubbish” chip-baiting joke, which says a lot. Chip is so much fun. That he’s both one of Marvel’s biggest, most interesting writers now and half of one of the most popular and definitive indie comics of the period is something else. Like, he’d be a legend if only for his internet jokes. That’s a footnote now. Amazing.

Anyway – we meet the first Kieron and Jamie version. Chip’s one is delightful – the over-tortured pun is on the money, but the real joy is Jamie McKelvie’s Hellboy-esque hyper-developed single arm. Every time I look at that, I laugh. Plus the accent. Marvelous.

“Wossat?! Time paste this nob, innit?” is just poetry.

Gentle Annie Vs The World

Talking about poetry…

Chrissy is WicDiv’s editor and also a poet, and has done some indie comics before – as well as co-editing the anthology Over The Line, which is an introduction to Poetry Comics. This isn’t that. This is her just channelling her loathing of Gentle Annie’s obfuscatory nonsense, and I love it so.

Clayton and Dee step in on the art duties. It was Clayton’s idea to drop in the Scott Pilgrim parody Annie at the top, which is very cute, and implicitly shows the modes he can work on. The realism of each scene, and the sense of place is great. Also, the Banshees poster in the doctor’s office is hilarious.

Making A Difference

This is fun. Romesh is a proper famous comedian, and digs WicDiv, so thought it’d be fun to write for the medium. As his script was coming together, I thought of Julia Madrigal’s Giant Days issue, and realised it’d fit well. She had to do it on her trip to Japan, which involved some hilarious jetlag.

Dee’s doing some powerhouse things here with the purple-white lighting too. That’s hyper-strong.

“Fresh Prince of Baal Air” is a hell of a line, in passing, and I think this may have the prize for the darkest punchline of the whole issue.

5 Things Everyone Who’s Lived With Sakhmet Will Understand

I loved Hamish’ Pantheon, which is a playful but entirely accurate retelling of Egyptian myth. Hamish also won this year’s Russ Manning Promising Newcomer Award, so clearly should be doing something else rather than being talked into playing around with us lot. Thankfully, he didn’t.

I think my favourite moment is Persephone’s glance up as Sakhmet walks across the keyboard.

18 Go Made In Wiltshire

Kitty and Larisa have done a bunch of stuff, but I have to put a special plug for where I first met them – TAYLOR SWIFT GIRL DETECTIVE: SECRETS OF THE STARBUCK LOVERS. It’s illustrated prose, and utterly delightful, so was honoured to have them along.

This is all an accurate and extensive skewering of what we’re doing, with a not-perfect Scooby Doo mash-up. I did try to talk them out of including all the characters, as that’s so much work, but they could not be stopped. This meant that working out speaking orders was the main formal issue to worry about.

Now, there’s lots of mockery of me in this issue, but reducing Laura down to “Everyone is so hot! Let’s make out with them!” was absolutely the I Feel Called Out Right Now moment. She’s more than that, right? Right?

While the “WicDiv is a scooby do plot” complete with “Evil old man reveal” is lots of fun, the bit which makes me laugh every time I flick through is the “I would have got away with it if it wasn’t for you meddling ki—” “Oh, fuck off.” Oh, Lucifer, Never change.

Enquiring Minds Want To Know: What’s Your Guilty Pleasure Song

Cover-artist Margaux joined by the irrepressible Kate Leth. I’m really into how the two play together – Kate wanted to cut things tight, and the “Short moment” illustrated with Margaux’s warmth is fascinating. Like, have the two other Norns ever looked more delighted and engaged than they are at the end of page six?

In terms of Kieron and Jamie baiting, Grumpy Jamie in full Captain Marvel Gear and me trying to write an essay in any given space is fun and mean (which is how we like it). And I’ve just realised that writing more about this script would only be underlining Kate’s point, so I better stop.

Secret Origin

I wrote it, and offered it to Jamie. Really, the point of the specials is to create a space in the schedule so Jamie can get ahead, but he couldn’t resist this one. It’s cathartic closure, at the least.

Choosing the puns was tricky – I realised it had to be a chain, so chose this one which amused Katie West, which was tweeted when visiting them in Edinburgh. So I was in range of punching.

As always, this is Jamie expression masterclass, and a little self-mocking of my tendency to go full clockwork in my story universes is fun. I hope so anyway.

28 pages of comics, which is quite the thing. I don’t suspect we’ll be making much (if any) money from this issue after paying everyone, but that’s fine. It’s a party, innit?

Oh, it was nearly 2000 words. It’s never short, is it? It’s never short.

WicDIv 40 is out tomorrow (December 5th), which starts our final arc, “Okay.” Hope you enjoy it.

Thanks for reading.

#WicDiv #the wicked and the divine #writer notes

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paperclipninja · 5 years

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Younger post-ep recap 6x06

Due to a rather unfortunate run in between my laptop and a glass of water I lost my original ramble for this week’s Younger (as well as the actual laptop so R.I.P Lappy, you were actually pretty terrible but we had a good run). So instead of my usual review I thought I’d do more of a recap and refresher of the last episode to get us prepped, primed and pumped (aka the 3 P's) for the next installment (ep7).

Episode 6 of Younger was in many ways so bonkers that it shouldn’t have worked, but somehow all the pieces came together and it did .Oh boy did it ever! I outright belly laughed a number of times throughout and I think my dog was mildly concerned for my well-being because there were actual tears coming out my eyes at a couple of points. I’m a sucker for a pun so ‘Merger, She Wrote’ had me at hello (you could say my hopes for the ep were high...yes I did and #notsorry). What I wouldn’t have given to be in the room to see the reactions to a script with ‘Liza goes to talk to the nurse who is actually a plant’ in it. So yes there were LOLs galore but most importantly, by the end of the ep order had been restored following the upheaval of the past 6 episodes (which is about the limit viewers can take sitting in the discomfort of an unfamiliar detour from the norm IMO: think the Bryce Reiger arc in season 3 and the Charles finding out the lie in season 5...it’s almost as though Darren and co. have done this before...), Finally the fam is back together at Millennial (or is it Mercennial now?)

Straight off the bat I was very distracted for most of the opening scene by Liza’s dress and look in general because it was AMAZING. I am loving all the Maggie/Liza in the morning scenes we’re getting this season and Maggie in a blue coverall embarking on a DIY rope harness ceiling painting project...what could possibly go wrong? I felt mildly uncomfortable at how relatable Maggie’s not being served for 10 mins in a bar and sneaking out to the fridge in the night were, but was also mildly mesmerized by Liza’s coffee mug that looked like some kind of old-timey wash basin (turns out this was not relevant to the story but noted nonetheless). Maggie also offers the very straight forward solution of merging the two companies to alleviate the tension that’s putting Liza and Charles in ‘not a good place’ and I love that her ‘bing, bang, boom’ is echoed by Liza when she floats the idea with Charles later in the ep.

The' Microdosing' book pitch provided us with the set up for the retreat and my fave thing about this scene was how IN character all the characters reactions were to it all; Diana is flat out appalled by the whole thing, Liza is Captain Cautious but trying to play it cool and Kelsey looks like she’s seeing colour for the first time and would 100% pledge her devotion to Travis in any kind of cult situation.

What might have seemed out of character, but actually ended up so perfectly capturing the way she always does everything with absolute gusto, was Diana's foray into boomer erotica narration (as Liza so eloquently put it, 'I think we just found our Seasoned Slut'. These lines, I swear *rofl emoji* ) I think I laughed through the entire scene of Diana in the recording studio, I mean, Miriam Shor's delivery of every line just kills me, but the highlight was undoubtedly when she suggested she could hit nipple a little harder and affirmed 'throbbing nipple' to herself as she walked back to the booth. Zane and creepy af Audrey Colbert waiting allowed for Diana to unsubtly hot foot it out of there, which was a great throwback to her refusal to be in the same room as Audrey in ep 3.

It was a also great opportunity to bring Zane and Kelsey back together and who doesn't love an awks 'accidentally had the mic open and didn't realize' moment when you're talking about how your author is definitely a murderer? I feel like Audrey may go and find another publisher now (just a hunch) but I would really like to see more of her because this character is a type of unhinged that we haven't seen on this show and I think that could be a lot of fun to see play out. I have to say that Kelsey Peters is NOT someone I picked as a boop-er of noses, yet there she was at the bar, booping Zane's nose and this was my favourite interaction of theirs in the series. I was totally digging the dynamic this ep and it will be very interesting to see what that will look like with the new work arrangements. Also, where was Zane when that was all going down btw? I assume Charles filled him in on the bringing the companies together plan before it happened?

Liza's excitement when she told Charles the idea of merging the two companies was endearing and I am unabashedly a big fan of Charles, but his attempt at convincing Liza to join him at Mercury after she tells him that she won't leave Millennial and Kelsey, by saying he left his company to be with her, was super shitty. But it was also super necessary. Because at some point this needed to be said and most importantly, Liza needed to call him out on it and let him know that he cannot use it as a bargaining chip. One of the things I love most about the Charles/Liza dynamic (aside from all the things, but that's another essay) is that Liza is her own advocate in this relationship, she will stand her ground when something is important to her and does not compromise herself to appease Charles. He is equally as stubborn but they are able to have the hard conversations that need to be had but this doesn’t lead them to question whether they want to be together (I very much appreciated the kiss on the cheek Liza gave Charles before she left for this very reason).

So of course being on a psychedelics retreat together when they've hit a roadblock in the relationship was definitely a very good idea...Well it was for us as viewers at least, because pretty much from the moment they arrive and Liza and Charles start talking straight to camera as the literal doctor (my god that whole line just cracked me up) informs them they'll be taking not-LSD, we know we're not in Kansas anymore Toto. Enter Josh for *insert drama here* purposes (and I do think he should franchise Inkburg coz why not?) and we have, ladies and gentlefolk, a recipe for some next level hilarity. But not before Josh and Liza share a lingering look as they take their dose of illicit substance to ensure that Lizs's trip includes one down memory lane.

I have made my feelings about love triangles known many times (quick recap: hard dislike. Tricky to pull off without one or more characters looking bad. Very tiring as a viewer and quite frankly I am pretty lazy and tired most of the time irl so just don't want it on my screen), however I will say that I did not see this ep as re-stoking the love triangle, I saw it as simply reminding us that it is there and can be reignited by the writers at any stage. Within the context of everything that was happening, Liza hallucinating Josh at her door actually made sense and I have no doubt that various factions of Younger fans had meltdowns at that moment for very different reasons.. Sutton Foster's physical comedy throughout this whole ep was second to none, starting at her realization that it was, in fact, Charles who had come to her room and continuing the next morning at breakfast.

Speaking of which, there was something about seeing Liza and Charles in the breakfast room together that made my sappy heart swell, it had such a vacay feel and I'm sure if you muted your volume you could pretend they were just listening to the activities for the day before going off to spend some quality time together...I mean, maybe that would be a thing, I wouldn't know....where was I? Oh yes, the unfolding of a series of comedy golden McNuggets™ that I am still laughing about. We learn that Liza is a supertaster (for those like me who pretended they understood what that meant but then realized they did not, I googled it and it means that she is sensitive to the drugs and basically the microdose affects her like a full dose, you're welcome) and I am chuckling even now when I think about Josh's, 'hey guys' in Charles' voice as he joins the table.

This is another one of those concepts that I feel like could've not worked at all but sweet lawd, the Charles and Josh voice swap scene was next level and I could watch this and the scene that follows over and over and never not laugh. I again LOVE the decision to have the guys talk to camera because it absolutely emphasizes the whole situation and Liza sidestepping away to visit the nurse just rounded off the whole crazy caper.

I have no words to describe how much I love the flat out ridiculous perfection of the visit to Nurse Maureen. Yes Liza has the epiphany that Josh and Charles bring out different things in her (though hot sex seems to be at the core of both so ya know, sounds like a win in the past and present and good for her on both accounts) and again, the unlikely scenario that her ex and current boyfriends are in the same place at the same time (while she is taking mind altering substance) has just played out so it also makes sense in this context. Quite frankly I'm shipping her and Maureen pretty hard at this point because a) it is not easy to pull off eyeshadow that green and b) everyone deserves someone in their life who has the kind of belief in Liza that Maureen does when she tells her 'I bet you can' dance just like me. I don't even know how to explain whatever that dance is but I just know that I want someone/something in my life that will windmill their/it's arms at me with such fervor that I find myself dancing with two attractive men in tuxedos on a galaxy stage.

I cannot express the joy I felt watching the entire dance scene, it was all just so. much. fun. But my absolute hands down favourite moment was when it cut back to the retreat and we, along with Charles and Josh, discover that Liza is in fact dancing with 'Maureen' the plant and seriously, this is up there with my highlights of the entire series. That and the reveal that the selfies Liza was taking were sent to Diana (Diana speaking to Liza in her 'sexy' voice, asking 'where is my plant?', Liza's, 'Maureen', I just cannot with every part of this glorious tie in at the end of the ep. I am sending Ashley Skidmore a houseplant to express my gratitude for gifting us with these moments*). Seeing Josh and Charles together was great but it was clear a scene was missing and I am SO glad that Younger released the deleted conversation between the two of them coz it was both necessary because YES and also because it suddenly made Charles' entire conversation and reason for his decision to sell Mercury make sense (ie. was pretty pivotal).

I big A adored Charles and Liza's conversation (and outfits and aesthetic overall) as they're leaving the retreat, the shift in Charles is palpable and it's just such a credit to the writing and acting to be able to convey so much in such a brief scene. Maggie of course experienced quite the shift herself, from ceiling to floor, with a sufficient amount of dangling as her helpful neighbourly pervert got himself off as she got herself down. But most importantly, Maggie got her mojo back (though is she not currently dating Beth? In which case location of missing mojo: unclear).

Now I gotta tell you, the final scene of this week's ep up and got me. Big time. Kelsey's earlier comment, that she really hates competing with Charles, certainly added weight to the resolution we've all been waiting for this season. Charles' honesty about his realisation that he is hurting his family, not to mention him confirming that he means Kelsey, Diana and Liza and that he wants to come home, ugh, my insides are gooey just writing these words, leads to his offer to Kesley and honestly, the interactions between all of them in this scene was wonderful. I loved that Kelsey held the room, that Charles was putting the offer to her from one businessperson to another (though thank goodness Diana was there to point out the difference between $1 and $1000000 eek! Also, I get that it would never occur to anyone that the price would be $1 so I'll cut Kels some slack). Diana looks like she is going to cry at any moment from elation and I love the way Kelsey asks for the approval of the ladies before shaking Charles' hand. This will forever be one of my favourite scenes on this show.

The thought of Charles coming back and working as an editor alongside Liza is an actual dream. I mean, I am very happy to be taken on the journey the writers set, but I have legit wondered what it would be like to see him in that role and he and Liza working together properly as equals and I absolutely cannot believe it's going to happen.

Well this ended up being quite a bit longer than I expected (lol, what a surprise). Bring on episode 7!

*I will not in fact be sending Ashley Skidmore a houseplant because I live in a very far away country, it would cost a lot of money and it is 1000% creepy to receive a dead plant from a stranger.

#youngertv #younger tv #recap #6x06 #liza miller #charles brooks #diana trout #kelsey peters #ramble #younger season 6

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bevioletskies · 6 years

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Movieverse Post Avengers 4 Starmora Prompt: Wedding with white dress, veil, vows, rings, the kiss, and the first dance.

mild spoiler warning for avengers: infinity war.ao3 | word count: 2.9k

Peter proposed to Gamora one week to the day after they returned from the “other place”, as everyone was calling it (the Guardians had developed an aversion to the word “soul”, recoiling at what it had cost them). The moment the words left his lips, he instantly regretted it - not about the idea of marrying her, he could never regret the idea of marrying her - but the suddenness of his proposal; it almost felt inappropriate to ask. Everyone was still traumatized, recovering in short-lived bursts, taking one step forward and five steps back. Gamora, unsurprisingly, was experiencing the worst of it, not that she ever let it show. Peter couldn’t imagine she wanted to undergo the stress of a wedding on top of everything else she was dealing with, the weight on her shoulders, the sweat on her brow, the heaviness in her heart. He prepared to take it back, to apologize for, once again, jumping without thought of the consequences.

“Yes,” Gamora said, and that was that.

Now, it was a few months later and the day was here. It wasn’t so much that they had finished planning the wedding that they were finished with planning it. Gamora, for all her usual insistence on precise details and long-term considerations, grew tired of the whole process. She wasn’t inclined toward a splashy affair with flower arrangements the size of her torso and a dress that cost more than the Benatar’s repair bill. Peter just wanted to finally start calling her his wife, and was ready to take the shortest path to get there.

“Will you stop fussing already? You look fine,” Nebula grumbled. Gamora glanced in her reflection, over her shoulder, to see her sister standing in the doorway, arms folded across her chest. She smiled.

“That might be the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Gamora said lightly, turning to fully face her. “Come on, Nebula. You know how much it means to Peter, to get married in his hometown, the place he still holds dear after all this time because of his mother. It would be disrespectful of me to look anything less than perfect, which I guess is…this.”

“A dress, though.” Nebula pursed her lips distastefully, her eyes slowly moving up and down as she took inventory of Gamora’s unusually feminine appearance. “And a veil? You look like the cake you refused to have.”

Gamora turned back to the mirror with a resigned, but agreeable sigh, tugging slightly on the tight waist for what had to be the hundredth time. “You might have a point. It doesn’t suit me, but it’s also no hardship. Need I remind you of the training corsets we wore as children? The buckles, the cold metal, the leather straps? All so we could learn how to breathe while we fight. That kind of burden, that life, it’s all behind us. No more.”

“No more,” Nebula echoed quietly.

Then, a knock on the doorframe. “Quill is pacing incessantly and won’t stop mumbling to himself,” Drax complained, looking immensely uncomfortable in a pressed white shirt and crooked tie. “For all our sakes, I hope you’re ready.” He paused. “You look ridiculous.”

Gamora rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “You flatter me, Drax. And yes…I’m ready.”

Though Peter had gone to church on Sundays with his mother as a child, he’d chosen a different kind of wedding venue entirely. They were in a converted barn on the outskirts of St. Charles, Missouri, the kind romanticized by many but used practically by few, its red paint peeling away on the outside, sunlight streaming in through the cracks of the imperfect rafters. Mantis had wound fairy lights around the support beams and placed tea lights along the makeshift aisle, but aside from that, there were no other decorations to speak of.

Opposite of the entryway, backlit by the partially open barn doors, Gamora’s gaze immediately went to Peter in his off-the-rack tuxedo, chatting quietly with the pastor, a family friend of his grandfather’s (who, to Peter’s dismay, had passed just two years ago). He turned at the sound of her footsteps, his face softening as he took in her appearance for the first time, mouth falling open a little in awe as it was oft to do. Gamora beamed almost shyly in return; after all these years, it was still hard to believe anyone could be so openly fond of her.

The other Guardians (aside from Nebula, who followed her in) were stood by Peter, surprisingly quiet and devoid of snark. There was a small bar-height table by Kraglin at the end of the line with three items arranged carefully on its surface - the yaka arrow, the Zune, and the Awesome Mix Vol. 1 cassette tape, the only thing that remained of Meredith’s Walkman.

Gamora walked carefully down the marked path, unused to the amount of fabric shifting around her ankles. Peter held out his hand for her to take the moment she was within reach, guiding her to a stop right in front of him. She instantly noticed an uncharacteristically nervous tremble in his fingers and his bottom lip. “Guess we should keep this short and sweet,” he chuckled. “Gotta head out in the morning for that job on the other side of the galaxy.”

“You sure do live interesting lives, Mister Quill,” the pastor commented with a laugh on his own. “Shall we start with your vows?”

“Yeah, I, um…yeah.” Peter let go of Gamora to pat the breast pocket of his suit jacket, only to shake his head. “Actually, I’ve read ‘em over enough times, I think I’m just gonna say what I feel.” He grinned his signature lopsided grin, and Gamora was half-charmed, half-worried that he’d indulged in a little drink for the nerves before getting dressed. “Growing up, I never really thought a ton about what I wanted to be when I was older. I mean, I had the usual kid dreams - rockstar, astronaut, pirate - but I was always just a go-with-the-flow kinda guy. Same thing when I was a Ravager, I just went along with what everyone else was doing. But once I left them behind, I really wasn’t sure what my next move was gonna be. If I was gonna float on by myself for the rest of my life like I always did. But part of me didn’t like that. I like being around people, and I missed having someone to talk to. My mom…Yondu. And it’s like someone heard my thoughts, ‘cos the day I left that life behind, you came along.”

“We had a pretty rough start, you and me. Tried to kill each other, landed in prison, the usual,” Peter continued, smirking at the memory. The pastor looked mildly alarmed. “But once we sorted out our differences, you became so incredibly important to me. You’re my best friend, my co-captain…my girl. The person I can talk to about anything, no matter what. The one who helped me figure out what I was gonna do with my life, who I wanted to spend it with. But you also don’t take any of my crap, and you shouldn’t,” he added with a watery laugh. “I say and do some pretty stupid stuff sometimes. You keep my feet on the ground, sometimes literally.”

“Anyways…we’ve been through a lot together. But I’m not too worried about the future. I know that whatever life throws my way, I got someone I can always count on, someone who can always count on me. And maybe to kid-me, the kid that didn’t care about, y’know, the future, or anything, really, it sounds pretty boring, but to adult-me? Sounds like I’ve got the best deal - and the best partner - in the entire universe.”

Gamora had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying, her eyes welling up with emotion. Peter’s eyes were shining with unshed tears as well, nodding for her to begin. “Growing up in the circumstances that I did, with the company that I kept - with one exception - ” her eyes briefly went to Nebula “ - it shouldn’t be surprising that love and acceptance were, in my mind, unattainable. Abstract concepts, for children and for fantasy. Shallow…saccharine. Meant only for people who thought themselves romantics, people who had time to really get to know one another. I was none of those things.”

“Like you, I was trying to escape my life. Unlike you, I thought I knew what was going to happen after. That I was going to survive, but not really live. Maybe die months, weeks, days after running away,” Gamora added with a sad smile. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think much of you when we first met. You were just another adversary to me. It wasn’t until Knowhere that I truly began to understand you…to know you…eventually come to love you. I can’t pinpoint a moment, a memory, in which I knew I did. But with all the cliches in the world, the ones I rejected and wrote off as fiction…I began to understand every single one of them.”

“I’ve been jealous of people who look at you the wrong way, or people who look at you for too long. I’ve fought for you, for us. I’ve done things that surprised me, said things I would have never told anyone else. I’ve let you into my life so we can share it together…a life where it’s about more than just surviving. I see the universe with new eyes, a renewed hope for the future, our future, and I don’t think it would be the same without you.”

By now, Mantis and Kraglin were clinging to each other, watery-eyed, while Drax, Rocket, and Groot were more stoic, but still noticeably moved. Nebula’s expression had been indecipherable ever since Gamora indirectly mentioned her, but she’d never been an easy read in the first place.

“If we have no objections - ” the pastor briefly glanced at the others, who all vehemently shook their heads “ - we’ll move on to the exchanging of the rings.”

Groot crouched briefly to open the small satchel at his feet, digging through its contents. Once he found what he was looking for, his branches snaked out, coming to a stop in front of Peter and Gamora - two small velvet boxes, ready for them to take. Gamora’s hands were comparatively steadier than Peter’s, sliding his ring on first. When she noticed the continual tremble in his arm, she held his wrist in a gentle, but firm grip, guiding him as he put her ring on her finger. He smiled in silent gratitude.

The two of them took a moment to admire their rings side-by-side, rings that had somehow become the most arduous part of the entire planning process. Peter’s ring was far simpler than hers, silver in color and square in shape with a thin groove all the way around, set with two red diamonds between perpendicular ridges that reminded him of his mask. Gamora’s ring was silver as well but less traditional in appearance, a thin sword wrapped around her finger with a matching red diamond embedded in its hilt.

“If you’re ready,” the pastor said softly. They turned back to look at him, eyes wide with anticipation. “By the power vested in me, I pronounce you husband and wife!”

A tinny-sounding version of the wedding march began to play through the Zune-attached speakers, and the Guardians exploded with whoops and cheers of unbridled joy. Peter swept Gamora into his arms, kissing her with everything he had. She wrapped her arms around his middle, pulling his front flush against hers, deepening the kiss, then pulled away before the pastor could protest indecency. Still, Peter brought her back in to kiss the crown of her head, holding her close as they turned on their heels to face the others, matched unabashed grins on their faces.

“So…dunno about you guys, but I’m super hungry,” Peter announced. Gamora was unsurprised to find that being married to Peter did not, in any way, lessen her urge to roll her eyes at him. If anything, she could see it happening with far more frequency in the future…their future.

Dinner was short and sweet, just like the ceremony. Peter ordered takeout from his favorite local diner, a place he was delighted to discover was still around. Though the others were mostly unfamiliar with Terran food, it was a welcome palate compared to their usual of ration packets and whatever was cheap at the latest bar Rocket insisted on visiting between jobs.

After dinner was over, Gamora knew there was one last wedding tradition that Peter would never want to miss. He didn’t care for toasts that rambled on for far too long, or tossing the bouquet (not that Gamora had one to begin with), or silly games that made everyone vaguely uncomfortable with how intimate they could be. No, this was a tradition that was obvious to anyone who knew Peter.

“Ready for our first dance as husband and wife?” He held out his hand, thankfully far steadier than it had been an hour ago.

“I guess the others will have to wait.” She placed her hand in his, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

They walked out to the middle of the barn, the moonlight peeking through the rafters, casting a soft glow on both their faces. Peter nodded at Rocket to start the music. He grinned at Gamora’s mildly surprised expression once the song began. “Song choice okay with you?”

“More than okay,” she laughed, allowing him to lead her in slow, deliberate circles, their faces so close that their noses were nearly touching. With his hands at the small of her back and hers on his waist, they were sturdier, surer of themselves, than they had been all night. “It’s been a while since we’ve listened to this one. Five years, in fact.”

“Figured it couldn’t be anything else,” Peter shrugged. “So…you feel any different? Now that we’re married?”

“Not really,” Gamora admitted. “I always thought it was more symbolic than anything else.”

“Can’t forget those tax benefits,” Peter joked. “And that insurance package you had your eye on ever since the hospital incident on Parthea?”

“If you had just told them we were family - ”

“ - I was so hopped up on meds, I was tryna make out with you in the waiting room, I don’t think they’d buy you were my adoptive sister - ”

“ - you always try to make out with me regardless, Peter, but my point is - ”

“ - hey, we’re starting to sound like an old married couple. I guess we always have, but now we’re halfway there,” he grinned. Gamora huffed, giving him her second most impressive eyeroll of the night. “Just gotta grow old together first.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that, the tension leaving her shoulders. “You’re right. Now we can look forward. And I don’t mean tomorrow’s mission, but…whatever the rest of our lives will be. We got a second chance at life. Let’s not waste it.”

“Did you have something in mind?” he asked.

“Actually…no.” Even Gamora looked surprised at her own answer. “All my life, I’ve either been running or hiding. It took me years to finally break free from his control, only for him to take me back again, use me again. And now, aside from whatever enemies we’ve made along the way…I have no reason to look over my shoulder. To check every corner I turn.” She smiled, her eyes glossy. “I’m not saying we’re never going to struggle again. We still have to live from payment to payment, risk our lives on even the simplest of missions, mostly because Rocket can’t resist a good fight. But for the first time…I’m not worried. I know we can figure it out together. Whatever ‘it’ may be.”

Peter pulled her even closer, wrapping his arms fully around her waist, his nose grazing her hair. “I know what you mean. Well, sorta. After losing Mom, I…I didn’t know if I was ever gonna have a family again. Or if I was just gonna be uncertain about everything for the rest of my life. But having the Guardians, having you…I lost Yondu, and I still think about him all the time. Wondering what it’d be like if he were here with us. But you’re my family. And I’m not worried, either. Just…really lookin’ forward to what’s next.”

Gamora glanced briefly over Peter’s shoulder, her fingers still burrowed beneath his jacket, around his waist, comforted by his familiar stance, his warmth. Rocket and Groot were squabbling over the last piece of apple pie, Mantis was cooing and taking photos of Peter and Gamora’s first dance while Drax watched on with a mildly disgruntled expression, and Kraglin was eyeing Nebula apprehensively, unsure of how much small talk - if any was even possible - was going to result in a knife to his throat.

She turned back to look up at Peter. “I love you,” she said simply.

He smiled. “I love you, too,” he said, and that was that.

Free, on my own is the way I used to be…but since I met you baby, love’s got a hold on me…

Fooled around and fell in love...I fooled around and fell in love, oh yes I did...

a/n: Peter’s tuxedo, Gamora’s dress (but with a floor-length hem), Peter’s ring, Gamora’s ring (but with a red diamond), and I’m sure you’re familiar with their first dance song!

#ask #Anonymous #starmora #starmora fic #myfic #marvel #hope you enjoyed this one lovely!!#i'm really glad i'm already done next week's prompt because i've got a lot going on this month #hopefully i'll be a teensy bit less busy in oct so i can really dig into the new au

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reconditarmonia · 6 years

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Dear Every Woman Writer

Hello, lovely writer!

I’m reconditarmonia here and on AO3 (and have been since LJ days, but my LJ is locked down and I only have a DW to see locked things).

General likes:

– Relationships that aren’t built on romance or attraction. They can be romantic or sexual as well, but my favorite ships are all ones where it would still be interesting or compelling if the romantic component never materialized.

– Loyalty kink, whether commander-subordinate or comrades-in-arms, and the trust associated with it. Sometimes-but-not-always relatedly, idealism. I guess the two combined might be, in general, the idea of nobility of character and what that means.

– Heists, or other stories where there’s a lot of planning and then we see how the plan goes.

– Femslash, complicated or intense relationships between women, and female-centric gen. Women doing “male” stuff.

– Stories whose emotional climax or resolution isn’t the sex scene, if there is one.

– Uniforms/costumes/clothing.

– Stories, history, and performance. What gets told and how, what doesn’t get told or written down, behavior in a society where everyone’s consuming media and aware of its tropes, how people create their personas and script their own lines.

– Eucatastrophe.

General DNW: rape/dubcon, torture, other creative gore; unrequested AUs, including “same setting, different rules” AUs such as soulmates/soulbonds; PWP; food sex.

—

Fandom: Far from the Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy

Characters/Groups: Bathsheba Everdene

One thing that always sticks in my mind about this novel is the way Hardy calls Bathsheba “the young farmer” just as he refers to the men as farmers - which, just saying, is more than most people writing about this story can do - and so, that being the case, what I’m most interested in is something about Bathsheba as farmer. One day in the life or four seasons in the life or five plantings/harvests in the life, or pseudo-academic fic about a case study of a woman farmer in the Victorian era, or a conflict between the farm and nature that Bathsheba has to decide how to solve.

Feel free to bring in other characters if it suits what you’re trying to do, but what I’m really looking for is a focus on Bathsheba’s work, determination, and process of learning. I’d also love to read something like a merchant ship AU (as the first alternate setting that came to mind where it would be not exactly the done thing for her to captain her inherited ship and make commercial decisions herself - although I do have to point out that contrary to popular belief, there were a lot of women on shipboard in the age of sail, may this be useful - but also where nature and luck/fate are as influential as they are in the original setting), or something in which the land, superstition, and ritual were more overtly magical.

—

Fandom: Monstrous Regiment - Terry Pratchett

Characters/Groups: Polly "Ozzer" Perks & Jack Jackrum, Polly Perks & Maladict, Magda "Tonker" Halter & Tilda "Lofty" Tewt, Polly "Ozzer" Perks, Alice "Wazzer" Goom, Jack Jackrum, Mildred Froc

Give me all the loyalty kink for this fandom. Characters rescuing each other from peril, risking their reputation or position or ethics to defend each other, accomplishing the impossible or sacrificing things without even thinking twice because one trusts the other’s orders or judgment. Or A not going off the leash or into danger to defend B because B said not to, to protect A’s conscience or life or reputation. Can be romantic or platonic - I ship Polly/Mal and Tonker/Lofty, but I would also be delighted with Polly&Jackrum, Wazzer&Polly, or other non-romantic twosomes or moresomes in situations of loyalty and trust. Maybe Polly sends Mal on a dangerous mission, or Tonker is captured after she and Lofty burn down another place where women and girls are being abused, or Polly protects Jackrum’s secret/s from someone who could reveal them, or Wazzer ends up in the field again with the general’s retinue and Polly and Mal rescue her from danger (or vice versa!!). What strengths or sacrifices do they have at their disposal for each other?

Pratchett-esque voices would be great. He’s really, really good at sucker-punching the reader with sincerity in an overall satiric mode, and I think that style lends itself well to this sort of thing.

I’m not going to lie, Polly is my fave. I like that this could have been a generic coming-of-age or women-in-war story, where the protagonist learns that she’s brave or worthwhile and then the crisis is past, but instead Polly learns that she’s a cunning bastard and a hell of a sergeant, and being a one-off hero in a country that’s at peace and making slow social progress isn’t good enough for her. That said, just because I’m better able to articulate what I like about Polly doesn’t mean I’d be less excited for fic about anyone else! And I know that we might have matched on single characters, rather than groups, and that’s just fine. I think that’s something I’d want to explore for any of the characters who enlist in the course of the story - what are these women good at? What lets them fulfill their potential? What do they want when their hand isn’t being forced? I guess that for most of the regiment this would be post-canon and for Jackrum or Froc it’d be backstory. How’d Jackrum go from enlisting for Reasons to being the career sergeant of canon? What’s Froc’s relationship to the Duchess been like over the years, as someone who met her in person?

If you’re going the Polly/Mal route, I also love ludicrous levels of sexual tension in a military context (I think it’s the unavoidable proximity + the presence of others making it hard to act on it).

Fandom-specific DNW: vampire romance tropes (such as turning and/or immortality) as focus; non-female pronouns/headcanons.

–

Fandom: Original Work

Characters: Commissioned Officer & Non-Commissioned Officer, Female Re-Enactor Playing Male Soldier & Female Re-Enactor Playing Woman, Chaotic good Berserker & Officer she's absolutely loyal to, Crossdressing Fugitive Princess

Um, so, I’ve never requested original work before, but these are...certainly some options that play well with my general likes. Something that I also notice across these requests, other than the fact that most of them are military-related or otherwise have to do with clothing and/or women doing “man” stuff, is that there are a lot of options for exploring how characters with different skillsets and/or values play together. When there’s a problem to solve, especially in a high-risk and high-emotion situation, what happens when they don’t agree on what to do?

As far as setting goes, I think I’d been envisioning the CO & NCO and Berserker & Officer as taking place in a setting that’s removed from us in some way - whether that’s a fictionalized version of a historic military where women can be soldiers, actual historic settings where both are cross-dressing as men, total fantasy settings or future space settings. Likewise I imagine the Fugitive Princess might work better in a fictional or historical setting. The re-enactor pairing could be in our real present day in a way that might not work for the others, but it could equally well be future people or fantasy people!

Romance between any of these pairs, or between the Crossdressing Fugitive Princess and a female character - whether a rival or tyrant she’s a fugitive from, an old ally, someone new she meets while in disguise - is lovely :D (I neglected to officially DNW this so I suppose I could be screwed, but I don’t want het for these. I’m also less interested in, like, orc or goblin characters if you write a fantasy setting, but I didn’t think to DNW that either. :|)

–

Fandom: Simoun (Anime)

Characters: Neviril, Aaeru & Neviril, Paraietta, Rodoreamon, Mamiina

Simoun somehow ended up being a really weirdly meaningful show to me. I loved how all these women got to be flawed and fucked-up, noble and loyal. How, in the mold of all my favorite epic shoujo anime, it starts off beautiful and fine and then Shit Gets Very Real and that’s actually one of the themes of the show - we had a little debate on FFA as to whether or not Simoun was a military canon, and the fact that circumstances have remade a team of priestesses in fancy quarters and magic flying machines who are there to pray to God, put off their choice of sex, use their talents, maintain or claw their way into a social position, into a military force involved in a war - that’s an idea that the characters themselves struggle with in the show. (Neviril’s scene in the hearing is one of my favorites.) How everyone gets character development, in the sense of learning and changing, and even what seem like annoying mandatory straight subplots actually end up serving that thematic or character development, to say nothing of the more focal relationships between the leads (not just Neviril and Aeru, but also Mamiina and Rodoreamon, Neviril and Paraietta…)

I’d really like to read a fic where an individual character’s development or two characters’ relationship is similarly tied in to plot developments; it doesn’t have to be a plotty fic as such, but I was very interested in the way the developments of the war and the pilots/priestesses’ actions in it precipitated changes in their relationships. So how might Neviril and Aeru’s relationship develop in the other world (what are they doing?), or Mamiina and Rodoreamon’s on the Messis when they’re not the narrative focus before Mamiina’s last mission and the braid thing? (Or if this is more your speed, dig into that and see how a character grows or the relationship between characters develops when that’s not being moved along by outside events in the same way, especially if they’re aware of that being an issue. When Neviril and Aeru are outside the normal flow of time, or Paraietta ends up a civilian, for example.) I’m also interested in all the permutations of loyalty we see in the show - like loyalty to a position over loyalty to a side (as with the Plumbish priestesses’ siding with our Sibyllae), loyalty that develops before liking or friendship, the devoted loyalty to Neviril. I like the show’s military themes despite its magical-girl visuals. I think this is also a canon where it would make sense for sexual first times to be part of a fic - what does that mean for the characters you choose?

I should also say that due to all the magic and timespace warping in the show, I am more than okay with post-canon fic that gets characters back together who were separated by canon, if that’s what you want. You can resurrect Mamiina, or have Neviril and Aeru visit the main reality/timeline again. Or play with timespace even more - time loop fic?

#every woman 2018 #dear author letters #far from the madding crowd #simoun #monstrous regiment #original work

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makingoutinyour30s · 7 years

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the quest for our co-captain

Dear A-

So here’s your DD4 post-dinner update. Because we went to a very warm, very cozy dinner last night.

Let me first say that through dinner I couldn’t feel it. I swooned. I smiled. I craved a hand across the table. But I could feel that he wasn’t where it ends. Or even ends for now. There were a few moments during dinner last night where I reflected back on our first two dates. They were magic, they really were. I remember a moment at the bar on first date where we shared a common detail, he gave me this enormous grin, and looked at the ceiling and shouted, “I want to know more!” Or that moment on our second date where we hopped into the light structure in the artist loft, proclaiming it a time machine, and shut our eyes together with our faces inches from each other. Fun things like that are still happening, but they just don’t feel the same. Things feel less light. Less generous. Less adventurous. Not to say that things don’t shift the more time you spend with someone. But it’s almost like I can see a darker cloud where before there was nothing but light.

So dinner. We spend most of dinner just chatting. Nothing too serious. But sort of talking about life, Thanksgiving, future plans. I waited until closer to the end of the meal to bring up a redo of Friday’s conversation because 1) I didn’t think it was going to be too long, 2) I didn’t want to put a weird tone on the evening if it didn’t go well, and 3) I knew that we could switch venues or stay for another drink if we want to continue it. It was a good decision. I said, “I think we should continue our conversation from Friday because it was confusing.” He said, “What was confusing about it.”

Oh come on.

I told him it was still unclear to me what he wanted. And he asked me what I wanted. Which, looking back, seems stupid because he had a clear answer for himself. I told him that I enjoy spending time with him, it feels good to be around him, and I’d like to get to know him better. He echoed the same things. Said I was “really great” and that I “have a lot of opinions he likes”. And then explained what I think was a general lack of interest in a relationship. Now, I’m perfectly comfortable assuming this is some sort of line. Or something. I still find the last two weeks of this thing confusing. The request to see me more, the weird times spent on couches, the Getting Naked together last weekend. He said he’s been trying to figure some things out in the last few weeks - what he wants out of life (does he want to get married? to have kids?), work (does he want to stay at his job? sell his company?), and various other things (does he believe in god?).

But. While he’s telling me this, I started to feel some old twinges. And then some things about myself.

He’s been talking about his work a lot lately. And I get that this is a thing a lot of adults talk about because it consumes us in a lot of ways. But I definitely don’t care that much, if I’m being honest. A, you and I are two people who really love our work, but I think when we talk about it, it’s much more in the abstract sense. It’s about things we care about: social issues, research findings, etc. Not the logistics of being researchers or the day-to-day grind of it all. If I’m talking with someone about their work, I want to talk about their passions and disappointments in all of it. Not the gritty details. Or at least, I don’t want that to be the major focus of their conversations. But also, in general, I don't want to talk so much about someone’s job.

But he’s also started to feel a little aimless to me. It’s fine to be confused in life. I am definitely at a place of restructuring and figuring out what this new life looks like for me. But I think I know the general direction into which I’m walking. But his feels like an aimlessness akin to OH’s. Not quite so all-encompassing, but similar. My brain has been harping and harping on his use of the word “restless” last week. And I thought a lot about what that means to me. Right now it means something different than it would have a year ago. Because right now I have a desire to steady myself a bit more than I have before, because I know I need a different and better foundation on which to move forward. Whereas before it was a constant poking and prodding of the foundation I had built, and was building, with OH. Almost like removing the blocks from a Jenga tower. Can we pull this one out? Nudge it a little? Without the whole thing falling over?

DD4 can have a lot of fun. I know I reflected here on his joy a lot. And that was such a great alternative to OH, who was always so full of sturm and drang (yeah, I’m using that). And he talked a bit about how he’s the person his married friends call when they need someone to hang out with, because he’s fun and free. And I recognize that in myself now. And it’s a great place to be. It’s a place that gets you invited out for impromptu lunches, concerts, trips, whatever. I’ve had such great experiences in the last few months since becoming that person in my own social circle. But I also know, for me, that’s not enough for a life. I don’t want to just be an accessory to other people’s lives. And also: I love creating adventure. I don’t like to just wait for it to find me. And when I think about what I know of DD4′s social life, he seems often like an accessory for other people. Myself included. I think, perhaps, he has become accustomed to being this person for other people. I don’t think he has honed the ability to be the one creating surprises and adventures. And that is a thing I want. A few weeks ago Tall Boo and I had dinner and he was reminding me that I get to expect a partner to create events for me, as well, when I was spending much cognitive energy attempting to plan a great date. And yes, I know this. But sometimes I also think I am a great arranger, but not a great in-the-moment-er. And I thought this was perhaps a great way DD4 and I complimented each other. But now I’m a little like, “But what are your ideas? Where are the places you’re looking for amazing things?” If you value restlessness, DD4, what are you doing to challenge complacency? Take charge, my friend! Be hungry!

Here is also what I’m thinking about myself: I know I still have a lot to learn about this new version of life. So I will tentatively put this out there, with the understanding that I will maybe/probably change my mind as I make my way further into this world. I think I just work so much better with a co-captain. My parents raised me to be on a team. My parents are the best team I know. And as children we spent much of our free time working together on the farm, dad teaching me how to change the brakes in my car, building a dock for the lake, pruning trees, sanding, sawing, whatever. And my dad is one of the best, most patient teachers I’ve ever met.

During dinner I told DD4 the above, after he asked what I had planned for a visit from my parents this weekend. And he sort of responded with, “That’s great. We never did anything like that in my family”. In your last post, A, you mentioned that DD4 hadn’t done a lot to make cognitive space for me. And something about this conversation was representative of that. These are the things about which I would have so many questions for a partner. This is what makes a person interesting and are the foundational things that shape a person.

It might seem counterintuitive right now to believe that I might work better with another person, but I just think that’s the truth. I enjoy putting energy into other people. And I am having a difficult time these days figuring out where to direct it. I have been cooking a lot for friends. Making bread for the professor I teach with when she has a difficult week. Spending all day making broth for a sick friend. Snapping pictures of construction equipment for friends’ kids. Watching people’s kids so they can go out. Life feels richer to me with another person. Fuck, even in the last week of my marriage, roaming around Paris with an always-drunk partner I had many moments of, “I’m so glad we’re here together”. And I can look back and still see the honesty in that.

You and I have been getting weirdly into astrology lately. It’s nice to have thoughtful things to interpret and reflect on. And a line in this week’s has felt important to me: Find ways to hold your energy until the right moment. When the container is solid and ready, pour yourself in.

At the end of our recap conversation I asked where we go from here. And it sounds like he’s into continuing to hang out. Though, I’m assuming, probably not as much as we have been. I also assume these hangouts will continue to be largely curated by yours truly. If we place DD4 into the friend category I’m O.K. with this. If he’s my friend, and not a boyfriend, I’m O.K. ringing him up whenever I need a pal for a movie, an art show, trivia, etc. And I do believe we honestly enjoy doing these things with each other. Last night I texted my west coast BFF (we need a good code name for her, she shares the same initial) and gave her the update. She asked if I was O.K. being friends with DD4. And yes, I totally am. I did not fall in love with this dude. Or rather, what ringing sensation I had in my chest initially I can feel has faded. He is not the person who will run across streets holding hands with me. Yes, I will probably continue giggling like an adolescent when I’m with him. And he’ll be able to make me smile in a way that only a totally charming and handsome dude can. But there’s not enough underneath for me to dig in.

Oh! Yes. Digging in. I’m sorry, this is getting long and very scattered.

I didn’t sleep well last night. My brain was working a lot, thinking on all of this. I kept having this visual while I was coming in and out of sleep. In a similar way that I was thinking a lot about restlessness/complacency over the last week, my brain kept thinking about the words “Digging in”. And I kept picturing, bear with me, two people trying to eat a massive cake together. Like, the kind that is multi-tiered and very wide. But rather than using forks, it was fistfuls. I don’t want to eat my cake alone, A. We all have our own big questions we’re trying to figure out. And I stewed over walking up to this cake and thinking, “Well shit. I don’t know how I can eat this whole thing”. And if you sat alone and ate the giant cake it would be weird, right? You’d just be a person trying to eat a giant cake. But in my mind, with my imagining of Team S co-captain status, it’s two people encountering the cake, laughing hysterically together and saying, “Well, there’s nothing to do but try!” and digging in with bare hands. Eating until we’re sick. Pausing to talk about the absurdity and re-strategizing. And afterward telling people, “Did we ever tell you about that time we ate the giant cake?!”

There’s a lot of people helping me take bites of the cake right now. And that’s so awesome. And I’m so lucky. Last night when I was texting with West Coast BFF (Let’s just go ahead and call her WCBFF) she asked if I wanted to take a break from dating. I told her no, that this made me realize that I want a buddy, in some capacity. And she said, “Well then we are doing this thing over then!” And that “we” was so clutch. It was such a gift and a blessing. We will all work on this cake together right now. Because there will be more in the future to be eaten.

And then, to be honest, I am glad that it doesn’t seem DD4 has to go anywhere. I am perfectly comfortable texting him in a few weeks whenever I want a good meal and a laugh. And I am perfectly comfortable Doing the Grown Folk (as a former colleague called it) sometimes, if he’s up for it. I’m a grown-ass lady, after all.

xo, S.

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