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featherfur · 3 years

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Big Knife Meet Little Blind Ch.1

Xue Yang meets A-Qing before he meets Xiao Xingchen and decides he needs a disciple. Somehow he ends up with a kid, a heart, and an absolute mess of a cultivation world.

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Murder, Questionable Child Rearing, Xue Yang and A-Qing's potty mouth, Xue Yang isn't a good person and needs to get there, will eventually be SongXiaoXue, this is for fun and updates will be sporadic if at all so read at your own risk

The timeline's a little wonky to make it fit better. Xue Yang is 15 and A-Qing meets him at 4 around the time that Wei Wuxian dies. This is a mix of MDZS Novel and The Untamed, mostly the MDZS Novel but I'll take some liberties and cross over.

Read me on: AO3. Chapter Two

There were a lot of moments in Xue Yang’s life where he could look back on and go wow that was fucking stupid. Not that he would ever admit to that and, being fifteen, would absolutely not learn from his past mistakes. Unless it was to kill someone a little better, but that’s not the point.

The point is that Xue Yang managed to acquire a four year old child and he wasn’t thinking about how much of a responsibility that was, so much as he was wondering how long a child had to wait before they could hold a sword. The man who had helped Xue Yang cultivate a golden core a few years back had always chattered on and on about how you needed a young disciple so they’d never listen to anyone else.

That was probably good advice considering Xue Yang had killed him when he turned thirteen for being a general pain in the ass. (If anyone remembered the wild child who had flung themselves forward with a sword to kill the old man after watching him kick a child under the wheels of a cart, they were already dead or had the sense not to bring it up after watching only one person walk out of the scene alive.)

A-Qing was a quiet thing, usually. She’d managed to swindle Xue Yang out of a few coins by pleading about being blind and starving while wearing ragged clothing to sell it better, only to get caught a few minutes later when she ran directly to him to hide from whoever she’d stolen from. Xue Yang was impressed with her almost immediately and simply carried her off with the promise of dinner.

Xue Yang did not have a soft spot for abandoned kids, they weren’t his problem obviously. He did however have an incessant need to have things and he wanted a disciple. One that would be loyal to him and him only. It wasn’t like that was hard to do, people were so eager to give themselves over to someone else. Even the old man had been easy to fool into believing anything Xue Yang had said.

So there he was, fifteen, with a round-faced and probably feral four year old on his knee devouring a loaf of bread, and he finally realized that it may have been a stupid decision. He didn’t actually want to raise a child, what did one even do with a kid?

He was vaguely certain that you had to feed and water them but what else? Train them to sit and stay?

He probably should have taken his chances with someone a little older, around eight or so, so he could just hand them a sword and that would be all.

Then again, he realized with one hand moving to the back of A-Qing’s neck, he could still do that. No one had to know he grabbed the little brat and honestly a quick death was more merciful than dropping her back on the street, probably the only mercy Xue Yang had ever actually known.

White eyes blinked up at him, completely uncomprehending of the danger she was in, and then they flashed with something. She started patting herself down quickly, finding a small purse after a few seconds and pushed it towards him.

“What the hell is this?” Xue Yang grumbled, flicking it open and half expecting to find old food or bugs. Instead it was a pouch filled with money. A-Qing’s eyes were bright with the glimmering all bratty kids had when they got away with something they shouldn’t have.

“That’s why I was running.” She said pleasantly, either unaware or uncaring of any sort of moral dilemma other people would have. “Here. To pay you back.”

Her words weren’t the smoothest, and she didn’t have any idea of how to ‘pay him back’, but somehow his heart managed to soften just enough for him to move his hand from her neck. She was already prepared to steal, she had no problems faking blindness, and she seemed attached to him. He could work with this.

And, well, if he got annoyed he really could just kill her later.

“Well, Little Blind,” He hummed and pocketed the money to offer her a piece of fruit instead this time, “I think we’re going to work well together.”

Xue Yang thought everything was going well, he trained privately under a new master provided by Jin Guangyao during the day, then he returned to the little shack he had and made sure A-Qing hadn’t died while he was gone. It worked well for them and A-Qing didn’t seem to mind sitting next to the river for hours until he returned home as long as there was food to shove into her mouth.

Every day he’d come home to find her with one of her numerous sticks slapping at the water and the fish playfully. Sometimes she actually managed to trap one and they got to cook it for dinner. Other times she was so soaked with water that Xue Yang made the executive decision that it was Bath day and dropped her right back into the river to scrub both of them off and take the time to scold A-Qing for being a menace and a brat and ruining the nice things Xue Yang gave her.

The scoldings only worked for the first week and by the second A-Qing had turned the scoldings back on him, for coming home with blood on him.

Him. Xue Yang, a well known delinquent and killer, was being scolded by a four year old.

Somehow it managed to be more amusing than annoying and Xue Yang just dropped fish guts on her hair until she yowled like a cat.

For the first year it was rather peaceful and nice, not that Xue Yang would ever say it out loud, to come home to actually have someone there. Not to mention when he managed to wrangle her into half decent clothes and could take her with him into town, suddenly people were much more willing to trade things for half price. He could also release her like a dog and watch her disappear into the crowd and meet back up with her ten minutes later with a purse full of stolen money or whatever shiny ornament they’d seen and wanted.

Once he’d even brought her to his training when he knew he would be experimenting with the fierce corpses. She’d been mystified immediately, holding onto his hand as she leaned as close to the cages as she’d dared and turned to look up at him.

“Are they dead?”

“Yep,” He chirped happily, scooping her up onto his hip and moving closer. “Want to see what they can do?”

At her nod, Xue Yang called out to the corpse closest to him pulling at the resentful energy to command it. It wasn’t as easy as Wei Wuxian had it with his flute, though Xue Yang would do anything to have a chance to talk to him about it, but with the thick needles Xue Yang had shoved in their head the day before it was manageable.

Obeying his commands the corpse turned slowly towards one of the unconscious humans slumped against the wall in the back. Xue Yang walked with the corpse so A-Qing didn’t have to strain her neck, and with a flick of resentful energy demanded that the corpse rip the human open starting with the ribs.

A-Qing screamed when the corpse buried it’s fist in the human’s stomach and gripped the ribs, pulling and pulling until it tore the flesh, a dying scream echoing around the room. Her face was buried in his neck long enough that Xue Yang was starting to think maybe that gore wasn’t good enrichment for children and maybe he really should have read those books the Aunty from the dumpling shop gave him.

He didn’t want to break A-Qing, what use was she if she was broken? But how else could a kid get used to blood if it wasn’t shown to them?

Maybe, he thought with a subconscious stroke of her hair, he should have started with killing a chicken for dinner. Or maybe a cat, though A-Qing really liked cats so he’d have to pick a dog or a bird so she wouldn’t cry too much.

Then A-Qing chanced another glance, fingers still curled into the neckline of his robes, and seemed to be watching in fascination as the fierce corpse pulled out each organ and devoured them. She still shrank away when Xue Yang stepped closer to the cage but she didn’t scream again and Xue Yang knew he had this parenting thing down.

Kids were easy, you just had to feed and water them and show them some blood and they were happy.

“What do you think? Want to save the tongue for dinner?” Xue Yang teased her, cackling madly when she gave him a disgusted look.

“He didn’t wash his hands, it’s dirty, you said not to eat dirty food.” A-Qing scowled at him like she thought he was pranking her.

“Yes, yes of course, silly me.” He snickered despite himself, turning to place her down on one of the stools and approaching the cage alone. Despite A-Qing’s grumbling he still ordered the fierce corpse to rip out the tongue and bring it to him.

“I’m not eating that.” A-Qing spat when she saw him grab it with his bare hands. Xue Yang barely gave her an irritated look before he was moving towards the small fire pit and snagging a tea kettle.

Say what you want about him, Xue Yang still personally thought that Jin Guangyao was more insane than he was just for the fact that he had an entire set up for tea right next to a corpse cage.

“You’ll eat whatever I give you, brat.” Xue Yang snapped over at her before dropping the tongue into the kettle with water and set it over the pit. “Besides, this isn’t for you.”

He paused as took in the potential consequences of his actions for the first and probably last time of his life. He couldn’t stick a finger on why but he knew he didn’t want Jin Guangshan to find out about A-Qing. He’d been hiding her well, though he was sure Jin Guangyao had an idea, he didn’t want either Jin masterminds to know exactly how close Xue Yang was to her or what she looked like.

If he took the tongue tea to Jin Guangyao then he would want to see what Xue Yang was doing which would lead him right back to A-Qing. But Xue Yang really wanted to watch him drink it. Maybe instead he could ask for a few disciples to see what the effects of drinking human flesh tea vs fierce corpse flesh tea were.

The temptation tugged at him for a while before an actual tug made him look down.

A-Qing squeezed between him and the fire pit and bent down to light it with the flint and steel next to it. She had thought he wasn’t moving because he couldn’t figure out how to light the fire!

Xue Yang didn’t know if he was warmed by that or irritated that she thought he couldn’t do something so simple. Still, he just watched as she carefully set the logs on fire and nearly lost the flint into the inferno as the flames licked at her hands. They were moving faster than her little hands could get away and he knew immediately she would be burnt if he didn’t step in

He covered them with his own on instinct, ignoring the way the heat burned his knuckles and tugged her to the safety of his side instead. He could see the glistening skin on the back of his hands that were proof of his idiotic move and glared down at her. She grabbed for his hands, shrinking down when she saw the fury on his face.

“How many times have I told you not to play with fire? How stupid are you? Look what you did.” He snapped, ripping his hands away from her and staring at the bubbling skin instead. Forget how stupid she was, what the fuck was his problem? Why did he intervene instead of letting her learn her lesson?

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry Yang-ge, I didn’t-” A-qing babbled as Xue Yang cursed at the pain steadily increasing. He kicked the pot of water and tongue over onto the fire and grabbed her by the back of her robes.

She yelped as she was dragged forward towards the exit, Xue Yang slowly getting quieter and quieter even as he radiated fury and killing intent. The hand on the back of her robes was tightening by the second, dragging her so quickly that her feet stumbled and he was hauling her across the floor instead.

She’d felt Xue Yang come home with the aftereffects of resentful energy clinging to him but she’d never felt him like this. It was suffocating and nauseating, but she was too terrified to even scream. Everything changed so quickly she didn’t know what to think, one moment he was laughing and now he.. He .. he was going to....

He didn’t respond when she called out to him, ignoring her yelp when her knees hit the stairs he was climbing.

Xue Yang was actively burning with murderous intent, he hated pain and when he was hurting he wanted others to hurt too. Even something as simple as his own accidental burns was enough to pour gasoline on the constant coals of fury that he held within him. He could almost taste blood in the air and craved being able to do so.

The crunch of bones under his heel was a building urge, and his hand tightened over the robes until it was clear A-Qing was lucky he hadn’t grabbed her by the neck or it’d be snapped. The familiar feeling of his sword plunging into flesh was like a phantom limb and his blood craved to feel it anew. To refresh that wonderful pleasure as he had it memorised and fill his ears with more screams then just echoes.

He finally made it to the last step, flinging open the door and tossing A-Qing in front of him. She flailed and landed in the dirt, eyes shining with tears even as Jiangzai was unsheathed.

“Yang-ge!” She cried, covering her eyes to protect herself.

A moment later she opened them when nothing came. Instead of Jiangzai being plunged into her belly it was buried in the chest of a Jin disciple who’d been unlucky enough to come check what the commotion was when he heard Xue Yang stomping up the steps.

Xue Yang looked at the corpse on his sword with blank eyes, twitching Jiangzai so the man fell to the ground in a heap instead. Usually he’d be slightly more careful so as to not invoke the wrath of Sect Leader Jin or Jin Guangyao, but this disciple had seen A-Qing and so his life was forfeit as far as Xue Yang cared.

He pointed at her, then the direction of home.

“Go home.” He ordered and in a flash she was running off.

He blinked twice to get the image of her in the dirt out of his mind, trying to push away the reminder that not even ten years ago that had been him.

When the thought wouldn’t leave him, he buried Jiangzai into the body of the Jin disciple a few more times and dragged the corpse downstairs to see if he could bring it’s resentful soul back for some fun. He couldn’t hurt A-Qing, but he knew what he could hurt to feed the powerful urge to cause pain.

#mdzs #the untamed #Xue yang #a qing #xiao xingchen #song lan #xuexiao #songxiaoxue #songxiao #songxue #fanfic #canon divergence #cw: murder #cw: character death #cw: gore #cw: blood #I'm not kidding when I say Xue Yang isn't a good person #Xue Yang won't hurt A-Qing but he also won't be nice about getting her out of the way so he doesnt take his anger out on her #Or nice about who he kills and what he does with the corpses

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botwstoriesandsuch · 3 years

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The reason aoc had no stakes is cuz even if we lost link would just take a nap and then wake up and murder ganon with a stick

Ok I recognize that this is a joke and I love you good job have a lil kiss *mwah* nice joke nice joke but also I am in MAJOR WRITING MODE which means that I am prompted to write essays on the storytelling process at the flip of a switch and buddy, pal, chum, mate, this is a major switch that has been flipped

Because it gets on my nerves, it’s one of my BIGGEST PET PEEVES of ALL TIME, I abso-fucking-lutely DESPISE, when people think that stakes is equivalent to life and death. I just hate it, it makes me seethe to no end. I could grip the clouds from the heavens, and my rage would make it rain upwards.

People who think stakes is just about winning or losing or living or dying, I will stake you, I will do violent crimes. You wanna know why those big superhero movies like Justice League and what not don’t work? It’s because it thinks that big giant death armies are meaningful stakes. You know stuff like Civil War, or hell even shows like Attack on Titan or Gravity Falls work? It’s because it’s stakes exist both externally and internally, and the consequences of actions exist beyond just living or dying or winning or losing.

Listen to me very closely. The reason Age of Calamity has no stakes, is because you don’t care about the characters. It’s not because of the timelines, or resurrections, or whatever whatever, no. It’s because you don’t care about the characters.

Now Ashshshshsh, yes you love your bird and fish husbands and wives very much ok yes I get that, I do too. BUT, BUT, when you look at this from the storytelling perspective, like thinking from the perspective of someone experiencing the story fresh for the very first time, with or without botw context. You did not care about the characters, you cared about the ending. That is why there are no stakes.

Why the fuck do you care if Teba dies? Like, sure, if Teba dies, you are sad, the character that you love is dead, you might even cry! But why do you care, what are the consequences of his death, what happens if he dies, what does he, on a character level lose?

What you’re typically supposed to do to get your audience to care, is establish a character, develop them, then give them a goal and a need to attain that goal, a good goal or motivation that affects a character both externally and internally, and then when the conflict or battle comes up, you’re left with that feeling of “oh no, I really hope this character wins, because otherwise, [insert something] happens, and I don’t want that.” That’s what stakes is, in very broad concept.

That’s why living and dying is a form of stakes, but it’s not the only one. “Oh no, this character is hurt, I really hope this character wins, because I like them, and I want them to live.” That’s you stakes. Same idea with winning and losing. “Oh no, this character is losing this volleyball match. I really hope this character wins, because they’ve worked hard to reach their goal, and I don’t want to see that go to waste.” Okay, great.

Now the PROBLEM is, those concepts are overdone to the point of extinction, like it’s arguable that the stakes of living and dying just doesn’t exist as a strong good form of stakes in media anymore. Whether by symptom of plot armour, of predictable writing, or the establishment of modern tropes and clichés, blah blah blah, you can’t solely rely on those ideas for stakes. ESPECIALLY in the realm, of video games. I don’t need to spell out the whole living and dying aspect of it right? And the winning and losing stakes goes out the window because that concept has an entirely different meaning and tone when the player is the one in control. Essentially what I’m saying here is, on a character level, you can’t rely on those ideas as a sense of stakes because it just doesn’t have meaning. But the thing is, Age of Calamity does rely on it. And it SOME aspects, it worked.

You have experience good stakes in this game before. You’ve probably done it on some crazy tough side mission or some interesting self-made quest to find yourself that last raw bird wing to finish up that upgrade. You yourself struggled, and understood the journey that you went through, the time that you invested to make yourself better (as big or small as it may be) at the game, and you eventually beat that level, or found that item. And you were genuinely relieved and happy. Whether you realized it or not, you were on the edge of your seat, intently focused on the task and “battle” at hand, you were invested in yourself, and the effects of the outcome of your struggle. That’s what good stakes does. That’s why so many videogames have impactful story telling.

But listen here, the reason you only experience those good stakes through the gameplay, is because you don’t need to put in the effort to care about yourself. You’re you! You know yourself, you played out your motivations and struggles. That all happens without the games help. So now the issue becomes, you need to emulate that same feeling for the story world and it’s characters. And Age of Calamity just puts in none of the meaningful work to get you care about the CHARACTERS on a CHARACTER LEVEL. It relies SOLEY on the work done by Breath of the Wild, with the exceptions of maybe Kohga and King Rhoam. And also Sidon is an exception in the sense that his relationship to his sister is a pretty decent stake (but tbh the bar is VERY LOW)

We’ve established how the stakes of winning or losing or living through a battle don’t have as much strength as motivations or stakes in this game. So, knowing that....Name Daruk’s motivation. Name a true and honest reason why Zelda shouldn’t die. And don’t tell me that “because it would make the other characters sad” because that is just a reaction to events (based on the characterization and writing work done by AN ENTIRELY DIFFERENT GAME cause again Hwaoc doesn’t character develop for shit) being sad isn’t motivation, or stakes. Being sad is a normal human reaction to anything ever, it isn’t anything new, and by god it doesn’t inherently impact the world or story around you.

You know what would have been good stakes? If Age of Calamity developed the New Gen Champs a bit more and maybe one of them could say something like, “I feel it’s my duty to help stop the Calamity, because the fact that I time traveled here means that I have a big responsibility, and if we lose then I’m a failure in both this time and my own. So I need to step up to the plate that has been set for me” or something something. Or, and this is a big one, give ASTOR something to do (because stakes is inherently about CONFLICT and you can’t have good internal and external stakes when there is nothing to CONFLICT with the other characters) let Astor be like “This world doesn’t deserve to go on, humanity has made too many mistakes, I was abandonded as a child, the King murdered my mom, I need power to get revenge, or to revive some dead family member” blah blah blah pick one of the clichés but at least it would be SOMETHING. When motivations conflict, that’s what gets you to care about characters, because then it’s not just about living or dying, it about the effects of that death, or that loss. If this character dies, they died believing a lie, or believing they were a failure and I don’t want that. If this character is defeated, they won’t get another chance to save the people they care about, and I don’t want them living with regret. These two characters have sympathetic goals, and I can see the points that both sides have with their motivation, but I also like them so I don’t want them to die, oh no, what’s gonna happen.

If you don’t CARE about the characters, and their goals, if the only thing that’s keeping you awake at night about them living or dying is “I like them” then there is something wrong.

You didn’t finish Age of Calamity because of the characters, you didn’t finish it out of an honest desire to see these characters reach their goals. MAYBE there’s a connection you had for Zelda, but honestly compared to Breath of the Wild, it’s nothing. You finished Age of Calamity simply out of curiosity to see what happened at the end, to see what your efforts of gameplay lead up to. You had no actual character arcs to latch onto or care about, which means you had no expectations or desire to see how they would play out, no STAKES no INVESTMENT. Which means live, die, resurrect, or perma-death as you see, you’re not invested in the characters, your invested in the time you put into that media.

#hwaoc spoilers #also not to be a film nerd on zelda-sideblog but this is why Age of Ultron doesn't have the same effect as the original avengers #and this is also why the ending of gravity falls or atla are the best #and also why disney live action remakes dont work

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gumnut-logic · 4 years

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We’ll Be Home For Christmas 4.2

Title: We’ll be home for Christmas

Day Four – Five Billionaires and No Wives – Part 2 Prologue | 1.1 | 1.2 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 4.1

Author: Gumnut

29 Jan – 11 Feb 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: The boys can’t fly home for Christmas, so they have to find another way.

Word count: 2951

Spoilers & warnings: language and so, so much fluff. Science!Gordon. Artist!Virgil, Minor various ships, mostly background.

Timeline: Christmas Season 3, I have also kinda ignored the main storyline of Season 3. The boys needed a break, so I gave them one. Post season 3B, before Season 3C cos we haven’t seen it yet.

Author’s note: For @scattergraph. This is my 2019 TAG Secret Santa fic :D

I’m still writing this, I promise :D I hope you enjoy this bit.

Many thanks to @vegetacide and @scribbles97 for cheering me on and their wonderful support through this craziness. And to @onereyofstarlight for geeking out with me over the setting.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Scott was angry.

He strode down the beach looking for his missing brother and fumed. He had finally been able to relax, finally been able to let go and now Virgil pulls a disappearing act.

Sure, Virgil was a grown man and he could look after himself, but Scott would always be his big brother, always look out for him, always worry about him.

Black sand kicked up as his toes hit a small drift and he stumbled. It brought him to a sudden stop and he found himself standing in the middle of an isolated beach fuming at the sand.

Who was he kidding?

And what the hell was he doing?

He dropped his hands to his knees and stood there bent in half, just breathing. The Virgil in the back of his head...because yes, there was one who sat beside both the Mom and the Dad in the back of his head...it was a crowded space...raised an eyebrow.

He was over reacting, wasn’t he?

Scott let out a breath and cursed the sand beneath him before pushing himself upright and continuing his slog down the beach. He would just be happier with Virgil in sight.

The Virgil in his head rolled his eyes.

Yeah, well, it’s my prerogative as your big brother.

The beach curved slightly, which explained why Virgil was likely out of sight, but Scott discovered his brother’s detritus before he found the missing man.

Discarded red flannel shouted amongst the greens and greys surrounding a small steaming spring. Footprints led to it and then away. Scott’s eyes tracked the direct line to the water...

“Virgil, what the hell?!”

His brother was almost waist deep in the surf, each wave battering at him as it rolled in. Apart from the fact the idiot wasn’t supposed to submerge his incisions in the water, what the hell was he doing?! “Virgil?!”

Unable to hear Scott above the surf, his brother continued to stare out to sea. As if to taunt Scott, he took another step deeper.

Scott cursed and shed his shirt and shoes, dumping them beside the red flannel, and ran towards the water.

-o-o-o-

Virgil was frustrated.

He could feel the questions, the song in his body, but he had no way to answer. Without the technology to shift his voice to the right frequencies, he wouldn’t be heard. Without amplification, any vocalisations would be muffled by the water.

He so wanted to answer.

The whales knew he was there. They hovered out of reach, beyond the surf line. He hummed deep in his throat, echoing the thrum vibrating through the water. Without thinking, he stepped closer, wanting no more than to be able to reach out and touch.

A large head peered over a dissipating wave and a huge eye latched onto him for only a second before disappearing beneath the surface.

Another step.

A hand landed on his shoulder and gripped hard.

“Virgil, what are you doing?!”

Scott.

Blink.

The thrum stopped and Virgil wilted. His feet shifted as the next wave hit him and he stumbled. Scott grabbed his arms, holding him up. “Virgil?”

“I’m good.” But it was automatic. He realised he was far too deep, his incisions submerged in the water, his heart was pounding and Scott was staring at him with worried eyes.

Another wave hit side on and soaked the both of them. Virgil spat water.

He didn’t get a chance to turn towards shore before Scott was dragging him in that direction. His brother didn’t say anything further, but the grip on his arm was tight and Virgil knew he was going to pay for this.

Fortunately or not, Mel was standing on the shore waiting for them when they finally stepped out of the waves. Her eyes darted back and forth between them, but she didn’t say anything, simply handing the both of them their shirts and shoes and Virgil his phone as well.

“They followed us.”

“Who?” Mel was frowning up at him. Scott’s hand tightened on his arm.

“The whales. The mother and calf. They’re out there.” He pointed out into the bay.

Mel’s frown deepened. “Are you sure? They should be migrating south. They need the feeding grounds. Maybe they are another mum and calf?”

His lack of knowledge slapped him in the face, but something told him it was them. “It was them.”

The frown didn’t disappear, but her gaze did flick to Scott and back. “Okay. We should tell Sam.”

“First we change your dressings.” It was the Commander who spoke and Virgil found himself automatically straightening in response. Hell, even Mel stood taller, her eyes widening as she looked to his brother.

The surf hissed around Virgil’s feet as an extra large wave dissipated on the sand.

Scott hadn’t let go of his arm.

Internally, Virgil sighed. Great. His brother was pissed and stressed again and it was all his fault. His shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry, Scott.”

Blue darted at him and the thin line of his brother’s mouth tightened for a moment before softening. “C’mon.” And he was being led back towards the other end of the beach.

-o-o-o-

The walk back was nowhere near as relaxing as his initial venture down the beach. Scott let go of him eventually, but his eyes hardly left him. Overreaction much?

He would have shouted that he was fine, that he could take care of himself, for crying out loud, but it was so obvious that he had screwed up royally, that he didn’t bother.

To be honest, he was a little freaked himself. He hadn’t intended on going into the water that deep. It wasn’t like he had almost drowned himself, but he had been caught up in an almost thrall in the whales’ voices.

Scott had a right to be at least a little concerned.

Being Scott, he blew a circuit.

And Virgil wrecked three solid days of his attempt to get the man to wind down.

He spent the walk back mentally kicking himself.

Gordon strode up grinning, but that grin faltered badly when he caught sight of Scott’s expression. Virgil saw the moment the dots connected and his fishy brother’s shoulders dropped. John’s reaction was less obvious, but his frown at Virgil’s soaked appearance was pretty clear.

Sam, somewhat clueless, bounced up all grins and smart comments. Liam was a little more sensitive to the situation and grabbed his husband by the scruff of his neck.

Suffice it to say that the party packed up and climbed back up the hill rather quickly. Scott on Virgil’s heels the entire way.

The damned hill he had to climb didn’t help and by the time they made it to the island’s small infirmary, Virgil was tired and frustrated.

The finger that pointed him to the examination table was firm. Mel had made herself scarce. His brothers had quite willingly fed him to the wolf once they found out why Virgil was being glared at by his older brother.

Of course, nothing was stopping Gordon and Sam from locating those whales now they knew they were there and John was roped into helping with Five. They had all found a decent excuse to run off.

So, the two brothers were left alone in the infirmary with plenty of time to ‘talk’.

Initially, Scott was silent, his actions abrupt and precise as he removed Virgil’s old and now sodden dressings, exposing his stitches to the air. The incisions were actually quite small, thank goodness for keyhole surgery, but they cut through his abdominal wall and messed with his movement.

His brother wiped him down with antibacterial solution. “You better hope you haven’t caught yourself an infection.” The tone was cold.

“I will be fine.”

“How do you know that?” Scott stopped and glared at him. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I’m fine, Scott.” The problem was he hadn’t been thinking.

The dressings were ripped out of their packaging rather vehemently and Scott’s ministrations, while gentle, were sharp and vibrating with suppressed anger.

“You do know I can do that myself.”

Scott stopped what he was doing. His shoulders dropped and his eyes closed. His sterile and gloved hands hovered in the air as if lacking direction. He didn’t say a thing.

Virgil struggled to push himself into a seated position, levering his feet off the bed, grabbing his brother’s arm. “Scott-“

“Why?” Blue eyes opened and were actually pleading at him. “Of all of them, I trust you the most to not do something stupid.”

“What? So, I got my dressings wet. It’s not a big deal.”

“Virgil-“

“I’m fine. Quit worrying so much.” He grabbed his brother’s arms and squeezed gently. “Take a breath.”

“Virg-“

“Stop. Take a breath.”

Fire ignited in those blue eyes, but Scott stopped.

Air whistled across his teeth.

“Now. I’m sorry I apparently vanished. I was not aware I couldn’t be seen. I’m sorry I got my dressings wet. I was distracted.” Very distracted. Zombified was a more apt description. “But I can look after myself. You don’t have to worry so much.”

“You’re my brother.” It was a simple sentence, but it said so much. “Now lie down so I can make sure your wounds are properly protected.”

Virgil sighed, his own shoulders dropping in parody of his brother’s moments ago. But he didn’t lie down.

Instead he looked up at his brother and drew him into a hug. “I’m okay, Scott. I promise. It was nothing. It was stupid. I’m fine.” Please calm down.

Scott’s arms curled around him, sterile hands still held out awkwardly, but the man said nothing.

“You need to relax.”

“I was relaxed until you up and disappeared.”

“I went for a walk.”

“Into the damned ocean.”

“I was looking at the whales.”

“You didn’t hear me. I called you repeatedly.”

“I was focussed on their song.”

Scott pulled away and stared down at him. “They were singing? I didn’t hear anything.”

“You can’t hear most of it. It is below our hearing range.”

“Then how?”

“I could feel it.” His whole body was the receiver.

Scott eyed him a moment before swallowing and grabbing a new dressing. “Lie down.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and did as he was asked. Scott finished his administrations quickly and quietly.

“I want you to go to bed and rest while we pack to leave.”

“Scott-“

A hand came up. “No. You do stupid things, you give me this.”

Virgil sighed. “Fine.”

His brother helped him up again and off the bed before letting him go.

Virgil left him putting away equipment, making his way out the door and down the steps. Okay, if he was honest, all that walking, more than he had done for days, not to mention that blasted hill down to the beach, had taken a lot out of him.

And the song...

Kind hands helped him the last two steps onto the grass, John still sporting that frown. Great another brother he had to convince yet again he wasn’t dying.

“I’m okay, John.”

Turquoise flashed in the sunlight. John’s voice was quiet, but firm. “We know that. But you have to understand, you scared us. You folded while flying. What would have happened if you had been flying alone? Could you have made it home?”

Virgil froze. The sun was warm, but he felt chilled. “I would have done my best.”

“We know that. But you scared us. You scared Scott. Satisfy our need for reassurance.” An indrawn breath. “Especially Scott.”

A stare was the only reply Virgil could manage at first. Quiet. “Okay.”

John’s smile was small, but fond. His hand landed on Virgil’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Now, go rest. No doubt what he told you to do.”

A resigned nod.

“I’ll take on ‘the Commander’.” John sighed quietly. “Don’t disappear again.”

“I won’t.”

His shoulder was squeezed once more and let go, John stepped gracefully up the steps and vanished into the infirmary.

Virgil let out a breath.

Well, shit.

Guess he was ‘resting’ for the next hour or so at least. Resigned, he turned and headed off to the hostel.

-o-o-o-

John watched as Scott put away the last of the extra dressings. His brother knew he was there, he had no doubt of that, but neither said a thing.

Eventually Scott finished up, straightened and turned to face John. “What?”

“You’re going to have to back off.”

“Why?”

“You’re hovering like a distressed parent. Virgil is a grown man. Sure, he did something stupid, but this is the brother who throws himself through walls into burning buildings on a regular basis. He had appendicitis. He had surgery. He is recovering.” Eyebrows for emphasis. “You’re overreacting.”

“He was alone on a beach, waist deep in surf and walking deeper. It was like he didn’t know what he was doing!”

John flashed back to the day before when Virgil had sung to the whales. It had been worrisome.

“We will keep an eye on him. But back off.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re not responsible-“

“Bullshit, Scott.” He took a step forward. “I send all of you into danger, everyday! Don’t you lecture me on guilt!”

“I’m in command.”

“You’re on vacation!” He drew in a breath and forced his calm facade into place. What was it with Scott that messed with his control so much?

Family knew how to press all the buttons.

“I am responsi-“

“No, you’re not.”

“John-“

“We are all adults here. Yes, even Allie.” And he said it with sadness. “You need to relax. This isn’t good for you.”

“Yes, everyone says that. ‘Relax, Scott, put your feet up.” He waved a careless hand. “You’re on vacation. It never stops, John. Never! I’m still responsible. It all comes down to me.”

A sigh. “It really doesn’t.”

Scott stared at him.

“We are responsible for ourselves.”

“John-“

“I guess from my perspective, it looks different, but I have to trust my brothers know what they are doing. I can’t reach out a hand to catch them. I have to trust them.” He straightened a little. “You have to trust, Scott.”

“I do trust you.”

“Do you really? Do you think Virgil really would have drowned himself?”

Scott opened his mouth, but frowned instead.

John pushed the point. “Do you really think Virgil has lost his mind enough to voluntarily injure himself?”

“Well, no.”

“When he vanished on the beach, did you think he was in danger?”

“I...well, maybe...” A blink. “Okay, no, not really, I just...am used to being in direct communication with all of you and he wasn’t answering. What am I supposed to think?”

John had to concede that Scott had a point. They were spoilt with the ability to contact each other on whim. Virgil obviously hadn’t thought of that when he removed his shirt and left his phone behind. “You have to trust that Virgil will be okay. That he can handle himself.”

Scott made a disgusted sound and threw himself into a chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “Easier said than done.”

John grabbed another chair and sat down opposite his big brother. “You do it every time we go out on a rescue. You do if for me all the time I’m on Five.”

“Yeah.” But it was a mocking sound.

“You have to let go.”

“I can’t! You’re my brothers!”

Different tactic. “Do you have any idea what you did to all of us those first few years after Dad went missing?”

Scott’s head came up, his eyes wide. “What?”

“You went nuts. Taking horrible risks. Virgil was beside himself. He ended up on Five terrified we were going to lose you as well as Dad. Did you know that?”

Mouth open. “N-no...”

“He said he spoke to you several times. It wasn’t until the aurora generator incident that you finally started to listen.”

Eyes on the floor, but focussed ever so far away. “He didn’t tell me.”

“Yes, he did. But you weren’t listening. Please listen now.” Another indrawn breath. “We don’t want to lose you, either on a mission or to burnout.”

Ever so quiet, Scott’s entire body slumped into the chair. “Okay.” Whispered. “I’ll try.”

“As for the whales...I think we should throw Virgil at Gordon. He knows what he is doing. We can trust Gordon to keep Virgil safe, can’t we?”

Vulnerable azure glanced up at him. “Yeah.” Back down at the floor. “Yeah, we can.”

John shifted where he sat. There was silence for a moment as he reordered his thoughts to work out a way to draw Scott back out again. The last thing they needed was for him to retreat to nurse his wounds and suffer in silence.

Alone.

“So, you going to dish on what’s happening between you and Mel?”

That startled him. Even a small smile appeared on his brother’s face. “What did you want to know?”

John snorted a little. “Without going into detail, spill, big brother.”

That smile, to John’s relief, widened. “She’s remarkable.”

“And not immune to a little Scott Tracy charm, apparently.”

“Hey, I play to my strengths.”

A soft smile. “Then go play some more while the rest of us pack up.”

“Virgil has gone to rest.”

“I know. Now you go rest and talk to Mel. You’re on vacation.”

His brother’s lips thinned, but he stood up and offered John a hand, catching his eyes.

John took his brother’s hand and found himself drawn into a heartfelt hug. His big brother, holding him tight. “Thanks, John.”

“Anytime.” Scott’s shirt was soft under his cheek. “We’re brothers, remember?”

“Yeah, we are.” His brother drew in a breath.

“We are.”

-o-o-o-

End Day Four, Part Two.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #John Tracy #kermadec fic

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wuxian-vs-wangji · 4 years

Note

I was just wondering how you chose the couples for your edit! I'm curious about the reasoning behind where you put Guangyao/Xichen especially! And Xue Yang and Xingchen! And Jiang Cheng and Wen Qing! And all of them hahahahaha

lol, ok, I’ll go line by line!

But for mercy sake, I will put it below a “keep reading”, if you are on mobile it’s a 50/50 chance you don’t get the option and just have to scroll.

—There are those who seek me a lifetime but never we meet,

Jiang Cheng & Wen Qing

I decided to put them here because I thought the line about always seeking love fits JC really well. Wen Qing was his Almost, and he lives as a sort of widow after her death. He has kind of given up on his entire life in pursuit of hatred and wrath.

This line feels very tragic, and it works for them. I won’t get into the context of the riddle within the story because it’d make my answer too long, but there is an element of the context and the fact that this is the opening line of the riddle kind of feeling like a dark parallel.

—and those I kiss but who trample me beneath ungrateful feet.

Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao

How different would things have gone if Meng Yao- at any point, even after helping Xue Yang escape The Unclean Realm- just… stopped. Stopped with the power grabbing and swallowed his ambition? Xichen loved him- that finger stroke in Cloud Recess was enough to prove that to me. And I do think that, unlike Xue Yang, Meng Yao was capable of love once upon a time.

I knew, looking at the rest of the riddle and what I planned for each thing, I needed a full ship in this blank, but really it’s wholly directed at Meng Yao. His are the ‘ungrateful feet’. He was given a gift and chose a dark fate instead.

— At times I seem to favor the clever and the fair,

Mian-Mian and her family

If at any point I didn’t use the ship I used in any of these lines, the only other ones I could think of would be Meng Yao and Qin Su, Guangshan and his wife, or Wen Chao and his ho. None of those are anyone I particularly want to hold up in a positive light.

Mian-Mian was fair to Wuxian at every step, and she was fairly clever in how she managed Zixuan and kept his ego in check for him (without ever getting territorial over him, she was a bro to Yanli and I love her for it). Mian-Mian was a good bean, and didn’t really fit anywhere else.

— but I bless all those who are brave enough to dare.

Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli

This is one of only 2 that I went into this knowing exactly what line they belonged to. Zixuan was always kind of afraid of Yanli. She was consistent in her dealings with him, but for him to actually man-up and realize he loved her took some bravery.

Plus he did it when Wuxian was- as far as the other Cultivators are concerned- in Feral Kitten Mode. So to court/marry/father a child on Wuxian’s sister took a hell of a lot of daring.

— By large my ministrations are soft-handed and sweet,

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji

OK, so originally I was going to do this whole thing as a WangXian edit, then I realized the above line had to be Yanli and Zixuan and the below had to be Xue Yang and Xingchen, THEN I realized I’d have to add other couples so there is not a random Yanli and Zixuan/Xue Yang and Xingchen in the middle of a WangXian edit, and bit by bit they were whittled down to just one section.

In the original plan this would be Wuxian playing his non-Chenqing flute on the back of the donkey while Wangji led it, but I wanted a more powerful and peaceful scene. To me that is them watching the snowfall, which I also took as a sign of time passing.

IDK if there is anywhere in canon that really gets into it, but mentally I figured the “Present” arc covers about a year, including a winter spent in Cloud Recess. Just a soft and sweet break from the world on fire.

— but scorned, I become a difficult beast to defeat.

Xue Yang and Xingchen

This was the other one I knew had to be exactly where it ended up, which changed directions on the others.

Xue Yang and Xingchen are absolutely fascinating to me. Just– I could probably write an essay but I am containing it. What they had was in no way love from Xingchen’s perspective. Not just because he didn’t know it was Xue Yang- even if their history were erased, Xingchen always treated him as a friend.

Xue Yang the Rabid Cat though~~~ sociopaths cannot feel love, but they can get this sort of entitled possessiveness over something that looks like a sick, toxic, twisted kind of “love”. That “beast” just fits the line too well. Also the context of who is giving the riddle in the source text. Think Xue Yang but an all-powerful immortal queen who has enslaved a continent out of SPITE.

— For though each of my strokes lands a powerful blow

Jiang Fengmian and Madam Yu

My initial thought for this one was Guangyao and Xichen but I loathe GIFsets that are too literal (except my “I love you, I said and then I stabbed him” one with these two, I made the GIF for that one because it takes the quote less seriously and I giggled).

Honestly these are the winners of “I really don’t want Guangyao/Qin Su, Guangshan/Whats-her-face, or Wen Chao/Ho”. I had no one else coming to mind couple-wise and of the few passages I hadn’t chosen people for yet, this one… was left.

Originally in the idea of doing the entire riddle as WangXian, this was going to be the Umbrella Scene. Specifically Wangji stepping aside and Wuxian racing past.

— When I kill, I do it slow.

The Yunmeng Trio

The context of the original riddle really was focused on romantic love as something this villain was fixated on. The original plan (and indeed it is still in my notes so it literally changed halfway through me making that GIF) was to do Wuxian and Wangji here. A cross-cut of them young and happy and the cliff scene.

I really didn’t want 2 WangXian if the rest were mixed though. There were no more romantic couplings, so I tried to think of the same idea of a cross-cut between early days and late times. I was giving up and had a fade half-made that was Wuxian laughing (taking off the mask he tried to scare Wangji with when they were young) and Wuxian’s cry-laugh on the roof of the Nightless City. I accidentally clicked too far over in the episode timeline and saw him screaming because of Yanli and was like “Hum….”

There was a decent enough wide shot of the Yunmeng trio, in Episode 2 there is the fun jostling shot, and I figured if you had to summarize what led from Caiyi Town to the Nightless City in terms of their dynamics, no matter what way you look the answer is “love” (which was my mentality for the two Wuxian’s faded together- what love turned him into).

Yanli’s love of her family, Wuxian losing everything in his life he loved, and Jiang Cheng raw and raging because of the loss of the woman he loved and the impending loss of the sister he loves.

And then I got some DM’s after the riddle was posted asking about the answer, so I chose to make the WangXian GIF and attach it as the answer :)

#ask #Anonymous

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mafiamamaj · 5 years

Text

Here's an Endgame fix-it I would love but don't have the patience to write.

So, Steve goes back in time. Everybody's all pissed because its so out of character, and why is Peggy worth more than Tony or Bucky, all that. But, hear me out.

Steve goes back and the first thing he does is find Peggy and Howard. Convince them its really him, somehow get them to believe the time travel nonsense, all that. They play it up like he survived the crash and found his way home because it's only been like, a week, if that, since the Valkryie went down.

Steve gets Howard and Peggy to help him look for Bucky. He has a vague idea of where he should be at this point, but no solid details, so it takes a little while. This derails any interest Howard had in the Manhattan Project, especially since Steve is Very Vocal about his hatred of the idea.

(Now, I dont have the knowledge to even begin to theorize what would have happened in a reality where Steve Rogers was around to Loudly and Publicly as Captain America declare his disapproval of something as huge and significant as the Manhattan Project. For the sake of my brain, we are going to say that they met a lot more resistance than they otherwise would have, but it still happened because the American Government is awful.)

They find Bucky within a few years of Steve's crash and survival. Obviously he's still all kinds of fucked up because of torture, experimentation, cryo, etc. But 5-6 years is a whole he'll of a lot different than 70+. Shield still gets built, honestly Steve couldn't imagine it with any other name, but Bucky's return reveals that Hydra is still around and that Operation Paperclip was a bad idea (Zola). So they clean house early. Peggy becomes Director because Howard is to busy with his tech, and Steve and Bucky both said no. They do work for the newly built Shield though, running ops and hunting Hydra. They also might as well be married. Its still illegal for the time, so they're careful, but all the people who matter to them know and none of them care that the Captain and his Sargeant are doing the horizontal mambo.

Steve was friends with Tony, even if it didn't work out that well. And for all their differences, well earned and understandable, Tony and Howard had a lot more in common than Tony would ever want to admit. So Steve learns from the mistakes he made with Tony, and keeps Howard from turning into the monster he was in Tony's memories.

He mother hen's Howard into drinking less, drags him out to socialize more(Bucky is a huge help with that), calls him out when he's being a dick, and puts him in his place when his ego, or his head, gets too big for his britches.

Howard gets Steve to actually sell his art, builds him neat gadgets and armor, teases him to no end about Bucky, and is consistently endangering both of their lives on his never ending quest to get Steve drunk. (Bucky might have more sense than both of them, but he's also an adrenaline junkie with a hard-on for mechanical anything, so he is no help whatsoever and Peggy constantly despaired that the fate of the world lies with these overgrown children.)

When Howard marries Maria, Steve stands up for him at the wedding. The first time Howard made Maria cry because he ignored her/forgot something important/said something mean without meaning too, Steve beat him over the head and gave him a Captain America lecture, made Howard bake an apology cake himself, then dragged Howard back to Stark manner to apologize. The second time it happened, Bucky showed up in whatever place Howard had fallen asleep, dressed in full combat gear, cussed him out in Russian and threatened to shoot him. The third and last time it happened, Peggy showed up in Howard's lab, had him tied up before he even new she was there, and calmly informed him of exactly how she would torture him into a slow and agonizing death, as well as how exactly, she would get away with it.

Howard still forgot things, and could be careless with his time, but they never let him get bad, never let him forget how much he Did Not deserve Maria. And when Tony was born they were there for him. Steve refused to let Howard ignore his son, dragged him (figuratively) the first time Howard showed any sign of jealousy towards Tony. It wasn't perfect, nothing could be. But this Tony would grow up with a bumbling inventor of a father who was only forgetful and easily distracted, rather than an alcholic with a mean streak. He would have a mother who wasn't afraid of her husband and would love him even if she didn't always understand him.

He would have a godfather, his Uncle Steve, who would teach him to fight, to stand up for what was right no matter what, who would play games with him, paint with him, love him.

He would have his Uncle Bucky, who would share his interest in all things mechanical, would listen to music with him, take apart and build machines with him, teach him dirty jokes and play pranks on his Dad or Uncle Steve, who would listen to all of his ideas and tell him he could do anything.

He would have his godmother, Aunt Peggy, who would teach him how to play the game that is high society, would teach him how to charm the socks (rather pants) off of anyone, male, female, or otherwise, who would help him when emotions got to difficult, or people didn't make sense the way he thought they should.

Steve would find the others too. Phil did alright on his own, but everyone else...

Shield would be looking for the Red Room from the start. Maybe they find Natasha as a child, or a teenager, but they would find her, because Steve would want to save her after all the times she saved him. She would get placed with a loving family, probably a shield agent and their spouse. She would have therapy, but even a couple of years with the Red Room would mess her up. She would eventually end up an agent herself, still the Black Widow, just a little less damaged. A hero because she wants to be, knows what it means to be saved by one, rather than a way to repent and repay the lives that she took.

They would find Clint probably around the time Barney and Trickshot turned on him, before he had a chance to start on his mercenary career. Therapy, maybe a shield agent foster parent for a year or two depending on his age. They would make no secret about recruiting him, but he would jump at it. Nat would probably already be there, and nothing would stop that friendship. Coulson is probably a few years ahead of them, though not many, and if there is anyone who could reign in Hawkeye, even a slightly less damaged version, it would be Phil Coulson.

Tony meets Bruce. Howard takes Steve's admittedly limited knowledge of Bruce's past and tracks down the kid. Creates a scholarship to get him to a private school and away from his dad. They meet at a Stark expo in their early teens and immediately hit it off. Bruce is one of the only people who can keep up with Tony's genius. When Tony ends up at MIT (sometime between the ages of 14-16) Bruce ends up at Harvard. They share an apartment, because the dorms would have been a disastrous idea. Steve and Bucky live with them because they might be super geniuses but you can't send two teenagers to live alone in another city Howard! Especially not when they have access to dangerous and/or explosive chemicals/tech!

Likely, Howard will still die at some point, probably from all the liquor. Fury will probably still end up as Shield's director because neither Steve or Bucky will want the responsibility. Tony will take over SI, but will still eventually hire Pepper, and eventually promote her, because running a company is never going to be his thing.

Bruce will probably still end up at Culver with Betty, if only because he's actually halfway decent at the whole teacher thing, and the Hulk incident will likely still happen one way or another. Having Steve Rogers alive would not stop men like Ross from wanting the serum. Instead of disappearing for years on end, He'll end up in Tony's tower in NYC. Tony will likely still be kidnapped, though he probably would not have the Obadiah Stane factor involved, and would still end up as Iron Man.

They would "find" the Steve still frozen and thaw him out around that time. Play it off like they found someone for Old Steve to pass the mantle onto. Give Young Steve a new identity, and a family in Old Steve and Bucky.

Young Steve would make friends with Tony, would have time to grieve his lost world without an alien invasion. Would move into the tower and mother hen Tony the way Old Steve used to do to Howard. Tony would not have all the Cap resentment he did in the original timeline, so he would get to know Young Steve as just Steve. Would be able to see him as an entirely seperate person from his godfather, because they are two separate people. Young Steve and Tony would fall in love.

Even if they weren't running it Old Steve and Bucky would still have a hand in Shiled. Would keep an eye on Natasha and Clint. They would have likely met Tony, Bruce, and Young Steve. So when the Chitauri roll in, the only one that wouldn't already be a part of the group is Thor and he fits in seamlessly. Coulson might still get hurt, but Fury wouldn't have to fake his death, because the Avengers would have been a team years before they were needed.

And when the time came to face Thanos again, they would do it as a united front, and they would win. Because together, they are unstoppable.

#avengers #avengers endgame #avengers endame spoilers #endgame fix it #tony x steve #stevebucky #steve rogers #stevetony #stony #stucky

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midnight-circus · 5 years

Text

another bullshit meme

from sidebloggable

answered for logan and lucius bc i dont talk about my big dumb idiot enough

and im actually gonna answer for their original Fable timeline bc ive been feelin nostalgic recently

Their physical weak spots

Logan - depends on his age and/or stress-levels. He has a fair amount of upper body strength from swinging twin swords around all the fucking time, but it wouldn’t be ridiculously hard to overpower him if you could disarm and get hold of him - however, he’s fast, agile and extremely skilled, and it’s getting hold of him in the first place that’s the issue. In the middle of his reign, on the other hand, his body condition takes a dramatic dive - he’s pretty severely underweight and loses a lot of his muscle tone, and it really wouldn’t take much at all to best him.

Lucius - Lucius is a big, heavy mercenary who fights with a broadsword, so it’s hard to get the best of him in a one-to-one melee fight. However, he’s missing his left eye and is deaf in his left ear - subsequently if you use a little bit of stealth and come at him hard and fast from the left, you’ve got a pretty good chance of getting the jump on him. He’s also into middle-age and despite having decent reactions, a younger man of the same build as him might just pip him to the post.

Their emotional/moral weak spots

Logan - oh god lmao. Logan’s a mess, but his primary emotional weak spot is his siblings - be they his original two (hey queenie and dorian) or Morgan. I think he feels a bond that’s closer to paternal than fraternal, and I think the only way he can really justify to himself the pain he puts them through is telling himself he’s doing it for them. ok honestly, he will do fucking anything for them. at the climax of the revolution, the primary thought running through his head is how fucking proud he is. be nice if he said it out loud every once a while - hell, itd be nice if he’d just asked for some fuckin help before causing the literal death of hundreds of people - but yknow. thats just going one step too far i guess

Lucius - he’s a bleeding heart. when Morgan and his little band of rebels rock up in the Dweller village, Lucius is already there running supplies up and down the mountain to them; he watches way too many kids starve to death, and joins up with the rebels in order to lead them through Mourningwood. then he gets a crush on morgan’s little bitch face and just like. never leaves lmao. He’s easily blinded by injustice and gets worked up really quickly when he sees wrong being done - it can lead him to act recklessly or thoughtlessly at times.

Scars or painful spots

Logan - asides from the obvious scars across his lips (fencing wounds when he was a boy), he took some nasty damage from the Crawler during the three days he was trapped in the Auroran cave - he’s got a network of scars on his back that look a little like lashmarks. they hurt when they’re touched and he Does Not talk about them. he’s also got a few other scars here and there on his arms and chest from miscellaneous scraps and scuffles, and he has a deep puncture scar on his abdomen from an assassination attempt, but the less said about those the better.

Lucius - lmao Lucius is literally missing half his face to scar-tissue. he was attacked by a dog as a boy and it left him heavily messed-up. he’s also a merc, as i said, so he’s got a lot of miscellaneous old wounds but nothing quite as obvious as the ones his face.

Best places to kiss on their body

Logan - oh, the neck, bitch. he’s also kind of a slut for being kissed on the insides of his wrists; anywhere vulnerable, basically. if you could kill him there, kiss him there. freak-ass bitch.

Lucius - dude just likes a nice traditional french kiss man nothing crazy. but also definitely give him a blowjob. i know this question said kissing but lets be real thats kind of a kiss.

Guilty pleasures

Logan - he reads really terrible novels. like…really terrible. he pretends he’s reading something highbrow and intellectual but its actually a shitty romance recovered with something suitably acceptable and nobody can know

Lucius - he doesnt have any ‘guilty’ pleasures tbh, he just enjoys stuff unashamedly. he’s too thick to feel guilty

Their vices (physical or emotional)

Logan - lets be real, he’s probably done, like. an impressive amount of coke. i guess the terrible sleeping and eating habits are probably also a vice but like. it’s mainly the coke

Lucius - he smokes like a fuckin chimney

Their tickle spots

Logan - not only does he not have any, but you would also die for trying. Elrick disagrees.

Lucius - his ribs, but he is uncontrollably violent when he’s tickled so its a real good way to get a broken nose. he doesn’t mean to do it, he just spasms.

Bad memories/experiences

Logan - lmao. I’ll skip the most obvious (the 3-Day Auroran Extravaganza) because i think that goes without saying - it left him with crippling PTSD and damaged his mind heavily and insidiously. he was already pretty traumatised by his childhood and i think being forced into so many responsibilities so young also messed him up a little. it’s more like….rather one one or two specific experiences, its more just a general feeling of Bad that has stuck with him throughout his life. It was worsened by his later experiences, and essentially primed him for failure.

Lucius - yknow i was thinking about how to word the answer to this question and i realised that i accidentally made Lucius into Batman. His family farm was attacked and burnt to the ground by bandits when he was about 12; his parents and siblings were killed, and he only escaped by hiding in the coal-cellar. Later, he joined up with the mercenaries to try and track down the group that targeted them. fuck hes batman. i didnt mean to batman

Humiliating memories

Logan - oh man his father was a pro at humiliation. mistakes or oversights werent just punished, they were fuckin learned from, and he figured the best way to do this was humiliation - generally through public displays of What You Did Wrong and repeated recitations of the mistake in front of the people whose opinions Logan valued. It was kind of the catalyst for his inferiority complex and intense desire to succeed without input from others.

Lucius - again, Lucius doesn’t really experience embarrassment - he’s kind of too laid-back for it. yes, it was embarrassing the one time he fell over carrying two milk buckets and threw them all over himself in front of the handsome boy from the next farm over and the guy started laughing at him but like. you live and learn and the dude turned out to have a really ugly laugh anyway so who cares

Fears/phobias

Logan - he’s always had claustrophobia, but after the Auroran Experience this intensifies to a whole new level, and he also develops crippling nyctophobia. part of this is due to his hallucinatory psychosis - he sees things pretty much constantly, but it worsens in low lighting - but it’s also due to the fact that there may very well be actual Things in the dark and he struggles to tell reality from hallucination

Lucius - dogs. fuckin dogs. he hates dogs theyre literally so scary even the small ones bc the small ones move so quick and you never know when theyre gonna come at you

Bad or petty habits

Logan - oh, he’s just a petty bitch. he’s also outwardly arrogant, even if his internal feelings don’t match up to that. drily sarcastic, too, tho a person only really sees that when they get past the walls he throws up - Elrick is very familiar with it.

Lucius - he’s constantly standing to the right-hand side of people and then he wonders why he cant hear them properly

Grudges and vendettas

Logan - he’d hold a grudge against his father if he wasnt dead. he also holds a pretty heavy grudge against Theresa for not just fucking telling him.

Lucius - at first, only against the bandits that killed his family, but once he deals with them hes kind of at a loss as to where to go next. fortunately Logan starts starving people shortly afterwards, so if nothing else it gives him a kickstart into the rest of his life. Subsequently, Lucius will hold a vendetta against Logan for the rest of his life, even after he has been in a relationship with Morgan for years - he will never forgive him for the shit he put the common people through, and he doesnt really give a shit about the ~pressures~ Logan was under at the time. fuckin excuses, man.

Ingrained habits/forces of habit

Logan - his terrible sleeping/eating patterns. even before trauma and night-terrors made it almost impossible for him to sleep peacefully, he didn’t get more than 5 or 6 hours a night, if that.

Lucius - if something is smaller than him, he’ll protect it. he’ll also protect things bigger than him, if given half the chance. hes basically a golden retriever in human form, which is ironic considering his feelings about dogs.

What it takes to make them cry

Logan - would rather die than cry, quite literally.

Lucius - his heart is softer than butter, he’ll cry at anything. he’ll cry at an injured pigeon on the street.

Dark secrets/’skeletons in the closet’

Logan - never, ever, ever talks about what happened in Aurora. The details die with him.

Lucius - he doesn’t really have any - he’s not ashamed of much in his life, and he’s never done anything terrible enough to render it a skeleton.

People they’ve hurt or indirectly killed, and how it affected them

Logan - L M A O. yes, it affected him terribly, but tbqh however much its affected him kind of plays second fiddle to how much his actions affected other people.

Lucius - has killed a lot of people who deserved it during his mercenary years, and justifies it to himself by being absolutely certain that they did deserve it. sometimes he doubts this, though, and that doubt plays a big part in his eventually getting out of the game entirely

People who’ve influenced them greatly

Logan - Walter, tho he’ll never admit it in a million years and he still definitely kneecapped him right at the start of the game so idk what that says about him

Lucius - Morgan. it’s real gay, i know, but there it is.

#logan1 #lucius1

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lostinreality014 · 6 years

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You Look Perfect Tonight - Part I

Part I Part II Part III

Author’s Notes: I started picturing ideas in my head for Niall’s and Evie’s wedding as soon as I finished A Perfect Christmas. There is a third part planned (The Reception), but I’m having trouble writing it at the moment. There is no timeline for when the third part will be posted, but it will be eventually. The title of this piece is an Ed Sheeran lyric. It was his song that inspired the ending scene to the third part, which in turn inspired this whole piece.

Have to give a shoutout and thank you to @imagine-that-one-thing for being my beta again on this piece. :)

Also Note: this piece is posted on my Wattpad account.

Photo Credits as follows: Niall Manip - @horanps; Japanese Gardens; Bride

Any pieces I post here are mine and all rights are reserved. I do not give permission for my work to be posted on any other platform. Unless I explicitly state that I have posted one of my works on another platform, please let me know immediately if you see my writing anywhere other than Tumblr. Thank you.

The First Look

“All set?” Mum asked with a smile after she’d finished pinning my small, flower crown head band in place. The same head piece she’d made herself and surprised me with at my final dress fitting about six weeks ago.

Well, it wasn’t a complete surprise. I’d known she was making it. Upon returning home after a particularly frustrating shopping day, I decided I was done searching for a veil. Over a cup of hot tea and chocolate chip cookies, I asked mum if she would make me a head piece for my wedding day. She immediately said yes. Before she could pull out her sketch book and ask me what I wanted, I told her to surprise me because I knew she would come up with something I could never even dream of. I hadn’t been wrong.

“I think so.” I answered as I turned around to face the mirror for the first time since getting into my dress and having mum pin in my head piece. When I finally lifted my gaze, my breath caught in my throat. Not only was I met with my own reflection, which I almost didn’t recognize, I was met with the smiles from some of the most important women in my life. All of whom were smiling ear to ear and fighting back tears just as I was.

“You look stunning, love.” Mum whispered.

“This might be the one time I see my son cry.” Maura said, sniffling.

“His tears better be caught on film.” Lou piped up. I laughed as I caught her gaze in the mirror.

“If you’re ready, Evie, we should starting making our way out to the grounds.” Molly, one of our two photographers, said with a kind smile. She’s been snapping away all morning while we enjoyed brunch and started getting ready, joining in on the conversation at times. There had been a few times where I forgot she was here as a photographer because she clicked with all of us so easily it was like we’d known her for years. Declan and Shane, our videographers, had also been in and out throughout the morning filming bits and pieces here and there.

“I’m ready.” I said after taking a deep breath and turn back to look at mum.

“Go on. Go have a few minutes with him, just the two of you. I’ll be right here when you get back.”

“Are you taking your bouquet with you?” Denise asked.

“Not for our first look photos.” I smiled. “Don’t want to take the chance of tossing it off the bridge into the pond.” Everyone chuckled and nodded knowingly because I have been known to throw things when suddenly overwhelmed by emotion, whether good or bad.

“Go on. Don’t keep him waiting any longer.” Lottie urged gently. If it weren’t for the fact that the location of our first look photos was a decent ways away from the main estate building, I was pretty sure they would have bolted out the door after me just to try and catch a glimpse of Niall’s reaction. But I knew the moment would be captured on film and I couldn’t wait to watch it back ourselves and share it with the girls.

“I’m going.” I smirked, winking at her before turning to follow Molly out of the room.

“I think this might be one of the best first look reactions I’ll be lucky enough to witness.” Molly said with a warm smile as she adjusted the camera strap around her neck.

“You think so?” I asked as we turned a corner to head down a corridor that lead us down a less visible route through the foyer of the building.

“Oh absolutely. I’ve photographed a lot of weddings and seen some memorable first look reactions. But there’s something about you and Niall. You two have this...” she paused for a moment trying to think of the right words, before pointing in the direction we needed to go. “There’s this undeniable spark between the two of you. A real, magical, love that I don’t think I’ve seen between a couple before.”

“You’re being too kind.” I smiled shyly.

“It’s true. And I can’t wait for you two to see it on film.”

“I can’t wait to see him.” I breathed out as we turned down another corridor. “And I can assure you that all composure I have will go out the window the second I see him.”

“Only makes this moment between you two even more special.” I nodded in agreement as the door leading outside toward the Japanese gardens grew closer. “As I understand it, Niall will be waiting in the gazebo for you, back to the walkway we’re coming up. And he knows that you’ll get his attention. The four of us will be nearby to catch everything on film. And no matter what anyone has told you, you can take a little extra time with each other if you like. This is one of the few moments today you’ll have together, just the two of you until after the reception.” I nodded again as we saw Declan step up in front of the door to pull it open.

I thanked him softly as I stepped out into pleasantly warm, early summer sunshine, and following the winding path leading toward the Japanese gardens. We truly could not have asked for more perfect weather on our wedding day, especially since we had planned for an outdoor ceremony. Thankfully, because we had been able to rent out the entire estate (there had been an intense discussion about this), we were able to have a contingency plan for an indoor ceremony in one of the reception rooms if the weather was not favorable for an outdoor ceremony. But fate was on our side and I was very grateful we didn’t have to fall back to said contingency plan.

The moment the gazebo came into view, and I saw him standing at the railing, looking out at the back of the gardens, I felt my knees go weak. I could see Kelly and Shane off in the distance and was almost positive they were sporting ear to ear smiles. Niall must have seen one of them react to me walking up because I saw him fidget and run his hands through his hair.

I paused on the small bridge that led up to the gazebo and steadied myself against the railing and once again reminded myself to breathe. For a very brief moment, I considered calling out to him so he’d turn around. But the overwhelming need for physical contact got my feet moving and I decided I wanted to hug him first before he turned around to see me.

“Lookin good, Irish.” I said softly as I slid my hands around his waist. He jumped slightly, but immediately relaxed and laced his fingers with mine, giving my hands a firm squeeze. A feeling of calm washed over me as I turned my head to rest my cheek against his back, my eyes falling closed as I inhaled the familiar scent of him. This was without a doubt, the most calm I’d felt so far today. Niall truly was my rock and I was so happy I’d get to spend the rest of my life with him.

“Only seen me back so far.” He teased. I could hear the smirk in his tone, but I could also hear the tightness in his voice as he lifted my hands and kissed my knuckles softly.

“You’re shaking, love.” I noted, as he held my hands against his chest.

“Just anxious to see ya. I’ve missed ya.”

“I’ve missed you too. Why don’t you turn around so I can see the handsome man I’m about to marry.” He lowered our hands from his chest, releasing one of mine so he could turn around. I in turn took a small step back to allow him a bit more room, my breath catching in my throat in anticipation.

As soon as we came face to face, he let out a soft, choked off laugh as he fell back into the railing, his free hand going up to his face and covering his mouth. My reaction is very much the same. How either of us have remained standing is beyond me.

“Never thought I’d see the day Niall Horan got so overwhelmed he cried.” I teased gently, sniffling and gently wiping the tears from under my eyes with my free hand.

“Evie…” his voice was barely above a whisper, as I did a small three-sixty for him, making sure our hands were never disconnected. “Oh my god. You’re stunning, darlin.”

“Not so bad yourself.” I whispered. “You look very handsome, mister.” I hiccuped as we both reached out to wipe the tears from each other’s faces, before he wrapped me up in a hug and burying his face in my neck. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him tightly, my fingers gently combing through the hair at the back of his neck.

There have been many times in my life where I swore I would never forget a specific moment in time when it came to Niall and our relationship. And these last couple of moments - his reaction to seeing me for the first time on our wedding day, and standing here just the two of us - these moments just jumped to the top of my ‘moments I’ll never forget’ list.”

“I’m the luckiest man alive.” He whispered a couple minutes later, lifting his head from my neck and pinning his forehead against mine. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.” I pleaded softly. His thumbs gently stroked my cheeks as he kissed my forehead before capturing my lips in a kiss so tender and sweet I was pretty sure my heart disintegrated into mush instantaneously.

“I love you, Evelyn Joy.” His lips were just a breath away from mine when he spoke.

“I love you too, Niall James.” I smiled up at him. “Feet still toasty warm?” He chuckled and sniffled.

“Boiling if I’m honest. Never been so sure of anything in me life.”

“Yeah?”

“Known since Kim’s wedding two and a half years ago I was gonna marry you. Probably knew before then and just didn’t realize it.”

“We’re getting married.” I whispered with a soft laugh, like it was hitting me all over again that it it was finally our wedding day. Tears were welling up in my eyes again as I smiled up at him.

“We’re getting married.” He repeated with a smile that could light up the darkest of rooms and kissed my nose.

“Thank you for my frame and necklace. They’re both stunning.”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled, pecking a soft kiss to my lips. “Wanted to do something special for ya even though you said today was enough.” I giggled and sniffled, nodding in agreement.

“Did you get my note?”

“I did. Had to kick everyone out so I could read it in peace.” His cheeks flushed and I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Niall Horan? Did you cry reading my note?” I inquired with a smirk.

“I did no such thing.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Horan.” He nodded in agreement, giving me a sheepish grin.

“I can’t believe you got me a new set of clubs. Told ya I didn’t need anything. Marryin ya is the best gift I could have asked for.”

“And I distinctly remember telling you the same thing.” His cheeks flushed a shade darker as he continued to grin sheepishly at me.

“Guess we’re even then.”

“Yes we are.” I reached up to kiss him softly for a moment. It was then that Kelly got our attention.

“There’s no rush.” She said with a soft smile when we turned to look at her. “If you’d like to, we thought we could capture some more photos down there along the path by the water.” We looked at each other, silently agreeing that we would like to get a few more shots before going our separate ways until the ceremony.

“We’d love to.” Niall said with a smile, kissing my temple gently.

We spent the next ten or fifteen minutes taking various shots in the gardens before Kelly, Molly, Declan, and Shane headed back toward the main building to give us a couple minutes on our own.

“As much as I don’t want to, I think it’s time we head back inside and finish gettin ready.” He said as we made our way back up the walk way, pausing at the point where it forked.

“I agree.” I smiled. “Since I know he’s been hanging out with you and will until he’s told to find his seat, but tell Harold he’s not allowed to cry.” he barked out a laugh and kissed my forehead. “And he better not be wearing one of his Gucci suits that will surely outshine me.” I smirked. He dissolved into fit of giggles.

“You’re hilarious.” he kissed me on the nose. “I love you.” he kissed my nose again. “And I can tell you he’s not wearing one of his custom Gucci suits. I warned him you wouldn’t be pleased with him if he ended up outshining you on your wedding day.”

“I knew I picked the right guy to be my partner in crime.” I smiled.

“I love you a whole lot.”

“I love you a whole lot, too. I’ll see you very soon.” I kissed him softly just once before stepping back from him, our fingers holding on to each other until the very last minute.

“I’ll be the one at the end of the aisle.” he smirked softly.

“I’ll be the one in white.” We blew a kiss to each other before I turned and made my way back up the side walk, Molly meeting half way back to the main building.

#Niall Horan Blurbs #Niall Horan Fluff #Niall Horan Fan Fic #Niall Horan Imagines #Niall Fluff #Niall Blurbs #Niall Imagines #Niall Fan Fic #1D Imagines #1D Fan Fic #Fan Fic #Writing #My Writing #My Blurbs #Niall #Niall Horan #LostInReality Writing

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nightblink · 7 years

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Blink Reads Oathbringer - Chapters 69-74

In which Evi Kholin still deserves better but at least Dailnar’s a smidge more worthy than last time, I delight in how close Kaladin and Adolin have become, and Shallan and her mental state deteriorate further and worry me even more.

Also, Azure.

Chapter Sixty-Nine – Free Meal, No Strings

Considering what we’re getting from the Elsecaller here, apparently Urithiru has the ability to affect not only the general climate either in or around the tower proper, but also the “pressure” which I assume means air pressure, since we know that that’s what’s manipulated by adhesion. Which. Interesting. If the tower really is located up at an altitude where breathing would become difficult, I can definitely see why they’d need that ability there, especially when Oathgating directly from sea-level Thaylen City up to Urithiru or vice versa. (what is acclimation, much?)

Ooo, so the Voidspren can sense Surges then, and not just fabrial use? It’s just that Shallan’s Illumination Surge is somehow sneakier than – at the very least – Gravitation. And they’re definitely drawn to the Surges and not the mere presence of stormlight (nobody could keep their spheres infused otherwise).

Gotta admit, while those flying-Fused clothes are hardly practical, they do have a fantastically dramatic style.

Kaladin is not happy over the lighteyes throwing their end-of-the-world parties while Rome Kholinar burns, understandably so. It’s dumb, but rich people.

“Please tell me that you didn’t bring us to live with your tailor because you wanted a new wardrobe.” Kaladin, even you have to admit that he likely looks stunning (and not just because it fits tightly through the chest). Powder blue over the dark bronze of his skin, gold embroidery accentuating the glint of his hair? Seriously. The man knows how to dress. Well. Kaladin might not admit that (to himself, aloud, at all, whatever) but these two have obviously settled into a comfortable level of teasing each other, and it’s fantastic. (Also, comfort on the level that Adolin is calling him Kal, and Kaladin hasn’t said or even had a thought of telling him not to. None of the bridgemen even do that, not after Moash left.)

So much physical contact from Adolin this chapter, dang. Ahhh, but he made friends with Skar and Drehy after the Battle of Narak! It does remind me of the time way back (I think in the first book?) when Dalinar was grumbling about(?)/noting him being companionable with the lower-ranking Kholin officers and rank-and-file soldiers. Those three at a tavern though, oh man, I may have to write fic about that.

OOP, AND JUST AS I BRING THAT UP-

Oh, Kaladin. Depression fucking sucks, and while I'm so glad you've been having a lot of good days, stormlight can't wipe that away like it can with scars.

Adolin notices! And drops back to check on you! Ahhhh, honestly, with how you two are getting to know each other well, I feel like you'd start picking up on each others' tells often and come to help in what ways you can, and I'm so glad to actually see that happening.

PUNCHY GUYS, I'M DY I N G

“talk like a girl” is definitely a compliment when it's sort of the default cultural assumption that women are more intelligent (and I'd bet good money that Adolin's been the butt of wordplay jokes enough when they knew he needed a moment to Logic It Out in his head, but in this instance Kaladin gives him that moment, and doesn't scoff or demean. You two have come so far.)

Please become sparring buddies, I beg you Sanderson. Kaladin's got powers but Adolin's better with technical skill; it would be a great matchup for them to improve.

Kaladin: [just goes out for a moment to patrol around the block] [immediately gets stopped by a squad from the Wall Guard] ….you have some strange brand of luck, Kal. At least it still counts as getting information on the Wall Guard like your part of this mission tonight is?

Storms, but that shash brand is persistent.

Chapter Seventy – Highmarshal Azure

AIGHT WE MIGHT FINALLY FIND OUT WHO THIS AZURE PERSON IS AND WHETHER THEY'RE A NALTHIAN

“the Sibling” again. What on Roshar is that referring to? And the state of the Radiants can affect whatever-it-is somehow, or at least is perceived to maybe have an effect?

At long last, Kaladin finds somewhere in this eerily-shadowed city that he can relax. Alas, it doesn't have the true comfort that is Rock's cooking.

These soldiers seem like they're probably a ragtag bunch of misfits as well, anyone who had decent training cobbled together to help man the walls when the Fused and Parshmen started attacking, adding people to their ranks as refugees trailed in. Beggars can't be choosers, and Kholinar is besieged. Still, their comportment does speak well of Azure.

….[squints] Either the Guard has a way in and out of the city that you're not telling anyone, or you have some way of creating food (that you're also not telling). I'm not getting a strong vibe as to which it may be.

All of them are lighteyed? Is it the entire Wall Guard or just these two platoons? That's… well, where's all the darkeyed soldiers?

Kaladin is definitely suspecting Azure to be a Radiant, and that's sounding more and more like a possibility, but that name still niggles at the back of my mind; I'm keeping my money on Azure being a Nalthian, even despite the Shardblade. A foreigner, who just happened along by and showed enough military ability and savvy to organize the soldiers and hold the gates? That's fishy.

AND AZURE'S A LADY. EXCELLENT.

Average to just-under-average height for an Alethi woman. That's still hella tall for just about anyone else. Orange eyes though? That's odd – we've seen shades of yellow all over, but orange… I don't think so. And a basket-hilted sword of all things – screw whether it's the Shardblade or not, is it a saber, a rapier?

Her soldiers still love her, no matter how much of Vorin society would be outright scandalized (and probably up in arms) over a woman being highmarshal.

If Azure is a worldhopper, she's been here long enough to get a handle on not only Vorin curses, but the political and military situation of the past few years – enough to ping damn close to Kaladin's actual backstory, which he now realizes was an active effort on Sadeas and Amaram's part (nothing personal, and there are bound to be many more who were affected in much the same way he was in those border skirmishes). That leans the possibility a little more towards native-Rosharan, but still doesn't discount other possibilities.

Azure makes a hell of a plea to one's honor and common sensibility.

Oh Kaladin. They have; the Parshmen that you so hoped would survive have been pulled into what you never wanted for them.

Chapter Seventy-One – A Sign of Humanity

ANOTHER FLASHBACK ANOTHER FLASHB-

And it's set very, very soon after the last flashback chapter we got – not immediately as the timeline goes, but probably only a few weeks, maybe even as much as a month.

Evi is crying and once again I feel the great need to punch Dalinar. YOU SHOULD BE FEELING CRUSHED, YOU COMPLETE ASS. Look at what your argument did! Look at how heartbroken and withdrawn she's become, trying even harder yet even more painfully than before!

Dalinar is so detached that he can hardly believe that their argument 'bodes ill for their relationship', he can't even tell how bad it's already become when his wife breaks down in front of him! When he doesn't even go to see his own son, much less care about him! Ugh.

At least he's going to talk to her, and is cognizant enough to do it in what is essentially what little territory she has in all this army. Not quite a supplicant, but as close as he can get (and without that attitude, of course).

“I like it when you fight.” [winces] Dalinar, Dalinar that is the absolute wrong thing to say. She doesn't want to fight, it hurts her to fight, and you can't see it! Like she said last time, the Alethi take everything as a competition, but you have to remember that she's not, and she doesn't want this. At all.

The way that she describes the times when 'nothingness' flares in his eyes is oddly specific, and that can't be a coincidence. Branderson has something going on here, more than just Dalinar's own self, more than just the Thrill and his addiction to it.

His hand against her safehand. That should be a sign of utmost trust, and yet…

Are… are you actually going to try talking them down first, rather than attacking without giving them a chance to surrender? Also, this is the first time you've noted it, but even you feel like the 'hunger' of the Thrill is something external (but it still feels like it's different for you, more focused than it is for others)

You can't blame the Rifters for not trusting him. His reputation alone would merit such, not even counting what he did to them personally. But, Dalinar is trying to negotiate. Amazing.

Ooof. Tanalan really didn't understand what the rebellion could mean for his people and city.

A duel. This, despite the indifference/contempt he holds for dueling. But the Thrill – or whatever it is (something definitely focused on him specifically) does not want that to happen. ….this does not bode well.

Despite how good Tanalan's plan sounds, there is definitely something wrong here, some underlying current that says 'I have a bad feeling about this…' even beyond the fact that we already know that something terrible happened at the Rift.

I'm not sure Sadeas is the 'traitor' like they say. Despite the fact that he was a conniving, slimy Pus of Man that got an all-too-justified death, he was dedicated to the power of Alethkar. Whether at this point he believed that rested with Gavilar or with Tanalan's Rebellion, I'm actually putting my spheres on him being on Gavilar's side. Perhaps he's spurring this on, but Gavilar does want an example made, and it could very well further some secret plans of his that we don't know about.

This whole thing reeks of about to go to absolute shit

Chapter Seventy-Two – Rockfall

Another Stoneward recording, and an explanation for why none of the Edgedancers have recorded any of these gemstones (they're out actually Getting Shit Done). And apparently Urithiru once had a dedicated population of non-Radiants – servants and farmers and the like – which again makes sense since the tower needed to be self-sufficient.

A Shallan-Veil chapter this time, and they're on a mission. To an elaborate mansion, apparently – one that's still occupied. You have to admit, those former-waterfalls do sound like amazing sights, no matter how frivolous (and expensive) they were to create.

“Veil took a deep breath, then let Shallan bleed back into existence.” I don't like the wording of that. I really don't like the wording of that. Veil 'let'? 'Bleed back into existence?' Both the tone of authority in the first and the visceral nature of the second – as well as the implication that Shallan didn't exist while the Veil-personality is in control – are worrying.

In relation to the above: “...she was an inferior version, obviously. Just deal with her, take her place. It would feel right, wouldn't it?” D u d e. I'm not sure if some outside force is affecting Shallan (very possibly the Unmade in the palace), but that is beyond anything she's felt or thought before, and it's disturbing, especially if she unconsciously has Veil (and to a lesser degree, Radiant) start applying it to herself. It's good that she felt how wrong it was immediately and cut it off at the start.

Huh. Pulled into crisis here, she reverts to her true, core self.

DUDE. WHAT- WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT THE EVERSTORMING FUCK

SHALLAN

...are. are you oka- that's not okay. That. That is not okay in any way shape or form you still have the bolt sticking out of your h e a d

(also, she deliberately shifted back to Veil just then, but absently noted that Veil was also an illusion)

So. Uh. How… how unkillable are Radiants with a decent supply of Stormlight, exactly? And what on Roshar is going to necessitate Plate on top of healing like that?

“You worry me sometimes.” Vathah, you don't even know the half of it.

Wit, please

Well, that's one way of making a scene, as well as not-so-subtly letting the Cult know that you have food, real food.

[sighs in frustration and continued worry about Shallan's separation of self. yet again.]

Chapter Seventy-Three – Telling Which Stories

A Lightweaver asking a serious question at the start of this chapter, which of course lead to more questions – first among them being: what protections did the tower have, and can they be reactivated?

YESGOOD ANOTHER KALADIN CHAPTER

I really love Beard and his obviously-fake stories. “You did not meet the Blackthorn.” Kaladin, standing right next to this guy: [somehow manages to keep a completely straight face]

Oh, and now you have to stab my heart again by mentioning Sah and the group of Parshmen you wanted to help save. Thanks bunches, Brandosando.

ADOLIN THE 'ROOSTING CHICKEN' I'M WH E E Z I N G

Shallan even made his and Drehy's illusions opposite heights or something like that this time omg (unless Drehy's taller now because Adolin's lounging but I like to think the former, because even the though of it is hilarious) Or does he mean that Drehy's several inches taller than he normally is. Either way-

Beard going on about 'the time he met the Blackthorn' when Adolin Kholin is right there and he's shit-talking his coat this is ama z i n g

Kaladin learning about the interactions of the low-ranked lighteyes though – I feel like just a few more steps, and he'll adopt these too. Knowing how they act and how they feel about the higher ranks, he can use that when he eventually gets to Social Revolution once Odium's dealt with, right?

This whole “fellow lighteyes” routine is hilarious and terribly embarrassing at the same time

Kaladin wanting to stand up for Adolin, be still my heart

Ahhh, so it's the Wall Guard that's supplying (all?) the food to the city with whatever their mysterious ways of obtaining it are that don't use Soulcasters?

Oh, great, at least some of the Cult practice self-flagellation in order to draw the altered painspren. Well that's lovely.

'Rock would have laughed [the beard] to shame and euthanized it with a razor and some soap.' HAH, now there's an image! Rock taking one look and carting off this airsick dolt for a trim and a lecture on proper Beard Maintenance.

!!! Now there's an interesting idea – I thought all the Honorblades save Jezrien's were in the keeping of the Shin, but maybe not…? Still, I thought the hilts of the honorblades were all way more elaborate than that, and no basket-hilts.

Kaladin always worries too much, it's who he is. That tidbit about the 'whispering voices' doesn't sound good, though; could be the Unmade, could be something to do with the Fused and Voidspren outside.

Bless Sanderson again, this time for continuing to write a good, believable agnostic in Kaladin

WHOOP, ACCIDENTALLY TAKING COMMAND. And by serious force of will managing not no keep it or shout out orders again.

“Keep your head, and I suspect you'll end up as a squadleader before long.” Help me I'm d y i ng

Chapter Seventy-Four – Swiftspren

Shallan is really cultivating her 'disturbance' as a Robin Hood-like figure to the point where they've given her a name, even a bit of a legend! It's a good one to have, in all, even when not considering that she needs it to get into the Cult. And since the Cult revere spren, being called as such gives them even more reason to notice her.

Ooof, correcting even Pattern when he doesn't refer to her as Veil when she has the illusion and personality up? That's… Shallan, dear, that's not a good sign. Listen to your spren, your soulbonded partner – remember the Truth of yourself.

Okay, that Swiftspren costume sounds really cool.

Ooooo, shit, those whispers are actually whispers, inaudible. The Unmade? Or even the echoes of Odium? Either way, it's not nothing, and certainly not benevolent.

“Was her mind so quickly corrupted?” ...an interesting question. On one side, the multiple personalities seem to make it easier to slide from one mask to another, even if there's 'only' the three, disregarding temporary ones. On the other, you use the word 'corruption' here, and I'm led to think of the 'corrupted spren', and of the people at the palace, so it could also likely be an effect of the Unmade that spreads its miasma over the city.

Ohhhh, and she's been Shallan ever since the voice whispered to her.

I wonder if that feeling of '[feigning] humanity' is how she feels about her branching personalities – if they feel like imitiations, or skin-puppets of what she wants to be, as opposed to distinct forces of their own in her head. (I don't know; I'm no therapist- This, Shallan, is obviously why Sanderson needed to consult heavily with specialists while he was writing, because this is… ooof. Shallan, I worry so much for you.)

'And Shallan… what did Shallan want again? Did it matter? Why bother worrying about her' SHALLAN, I AM WORRIED. VERY, VERY WORRIED.

And then we get this distinction of Veil '[layering] an illusion of Shallan and her havah over top of her trousers and shirt'. Not letting go of the illusion, but layering. Fuuuuuuuck….. Again, I'm sounding like a broken record but Shallan. Dear. This is not healthy.

And here's another one I worry over. Elhokar, it's… as much progress as you're making, this whole 'sitting alone drinking in the dark' doesn't bode well for you either.

Cultural Note: “[W]ishing and expecting is of the Passions. A heresy. A good Vorin worries about transforming themselves.”

...it's been a while since you drew someone Transformatively. And Elhokar… he needed this.

(he saw Cryptics in the mirror and lurking in shadows back on the Shattered Plains. maybe, with a little bit of help, he'll start shining garnet too…?)

#blink reads oathbringer #oathbringer spoilers #I've got Theories #but mostly an overwhelming worry because despite all problems with shallan's personal issues #and the stabbing and the shooting #this is going down far too well to continue that way for much longer

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shadowsong26fic · 7 years

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Oh look it’s that time again

Time for another Random AU Outline(tm)!

I thought about doing an addition to the Valdemar Cossover AU this month (because I have mostly worked out wtf is going on with Dooku), buuuuut since Distaff is still super late (friggin Opera House, I swear--I think I’ve fiiiiiiiinally got it working? Fingers crossed, I’m so sorry, I refer you again to the teaser bits with my sincere apologies...), I decided to write up a variant plotline for that fic because yes in fact I do write AUs for my AUs shut up.

So this one is #1a. on my List of Things I’ll Never Actually Write. So, uh, content warnings for discussion of abortion and miscarriage, just as a heads-up.

(See also the Rabbit Hole AU; the Bail Unfucks the Timeline AU)

(Also, these things have an official tag now, #au outlines for the win)

All right, this diverges when, unlike in the actual storyline, Palpatine decides that the best way to deal with this whole...Situation...is to poison Anakin and induce a miscarriage.

He decides against this in the actual fic mostly because he thinks it’d risk more than it gained him. Speeding up his timeline is a more efficient solution.

I figure in this variant, he decides that he can definitely work with her rage at the universe over what happened, since she seems to want this kid, and it nips several potential future problems in the bud. And he discounts the ability of the Temple/Jedi to figure out what’s going on/help her through it/whatever.

This is a mistake.

So, Anakin goes to meet with the Chancellor, as she does.

This may even be that one meeting where he tells her ‘guess what you’re on the Council now’

And she’s like “...well, fuck, WHY DIDN’T YOU DO THIS SIX MONTHS AGO WHEN IT WOULDN’T RUIN EVERYTHING.”

And he’s wearing one of his ridiculous needle ring things, and puts a hand on her shoulder and triggers it.

I feel like he has like twelve of these.

To coordinate with all the ridiculous Opulent Chancellor Robes he has to wear.

Just in case he feels the need to poison someone on short notice.

Having his ring not match would give the game away, you know?

It’s all about the details.

Anakin does get a Warning Tingle or whatever, but she puts it down to EVERYTHING ELSE that happens in that meeting.

Except then she leaves, and she’s flailing. And she still decides to go down to find a race and clear her head, and she’s still ignoring Obi-Wan’s calls (Padme hasn’t called her yet).

And then she starts feeling sick. Like--really, genuinely, awfully sick.

So she pulls over.

And you know it’s bad if she thinks she isn’t really safe to drive.

Obi-Wan calls again and this time she picks up because SOMETHING IS WRONG and she hasn’t yet spiraled to the point where she feels like she can’t talk to him.

She’s just been, you know, working up the courage to tell him.

LOOK PADME I’M GETTING THERE DON’T RUSH ME

And then she notices the blood.

At this point, she’s REALLY freaking out and she starts babbling about ‘something is wrong with the baby’

Obi-Wan, internally: ...baby? What--

Obi-Wan, externally: I’m on my way, try to stay calm.

He gets down to where she is, and of course promptly takes her back to the Temple for medical attention.

And there’s a moment where she resists because “nooooo they’ll take her please don’t let them”

And he would reassure her on the subject because, no, that’s not how it works, you know that, Anakin.

Except she passes out at that point.

They get back to the Temple, and he says he thinks she’s pregnant and something is wrong with the baby.

(He hasn’t quite wrapped his head around this whole “she’s pregnant” part but one thing at a time)

And, of course, Master Che and the others figure out what’s going on.

At least that she’s been poisoned.

Master Che: ...she does realize, she could have come to us? There are safer ways.

Obi-Wan: Given what she was saying before she passed out, I don’t think she did this to herself. She does not want to lose this child.

Master Che: ........

Anakin + babies are stabilized.

(Because the Force is really invested in the twins, guys. Of course mother and babies are okay.)

Babies are also identified as twins.

Ani regains consciousness, and the first thing she asks is is the baby okay.

Because, yeah, the Order is going to take her away, but they can’t do that until the baby’s actually born and Anakin has a few months to figure out how to fix that the important thing right now is IS SHE OKAY DID I LOSE HER.

And she’s told, yes, baby is okay. Babies are okay.

Anakin: O.O

And then she shakes off the “wtf plural” moment and gets all bristly and defensive (as she does) about “i’m keeping them you can’t take them away from me i won’t let you.”

Master Che: uh...well, yes, that is your decision? You would have to leave the Order if you wanted to raise them yourself, of course, but--

Anakin: wait what.

Master Che: ...what exactly did you think would happen if you told us?

Anakin: ...that you’d take her away.

Master Che: ................no. Well, like I said, you wouldn’t be able to retain custody and stay in the Order, but that doesn’t mean we’d take your child without your consent.

Anakin: ....oh.... ::starts crying because OMG RELIEVED::

(There’s a whole other bit that I couldn’t fit in where Anakin mentions that “also the war is the only thing I’m really good at and we’re spread super thin and you’d take me out of the field.”)

(Which, honestly, is about 75% of why she hadn’t told Obi-Wan before the nightmares start. That, and Padme has to know first)

After that comes the super uncomfortable “guess what you were poisoned” conversation.

Especially since the drug Palpatine gave her, while it would make her miserable for a day or two and would terminate the pregnancy, wouldn’t have killed her.

So, then the question becomes--is there something going on that someone specifically wants Anakin sidelined for a few days?

This seems unlikely.

Or did someone specifically want to poison her because pregnancy?

Anakin: But that’s ridiculous. The only person I’ve told is Pa---Senator Amidala. Because. Um. I couldn’t tell anyone in the Order and she’s a woman and my uh friend and...

(Master Che accepts this. Because she hasn’t seen these two dorks interact. No one else would buy it.)

So they start the process of going over everywhere Anakin’s been in the last twenty-four hours, trying to figure out who might have poisoned her.

Anakin: ::develops a Horrible Suspicion::

Anakin: ....no, it’s a coincidence.

Anakin: the Chancellor is my friend.

Anakin: besides how would he know?

Anakin: why am I not finding any of this convincing.

MEANWHILE

Obi-Wan is trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

And, by a logical process similar to the one Palpatine used, in reverse, decides that the Chancellor is the one who got Anakin pregnant.

And he knows that Anakin went to see him just before she collapsed.

He doesn’t really suspect the Actual Truth. He doesn’t have enough of the picture yet.

But he does know that Palpatine is a power-grabby Politician who probably doesn’t want to deal with a sex scandal about how he debauched a celibate war nun.

Especially one who’s like a third his age.

(Side note: there’s another potential variant where Anakin’s pregnancy becomes public and all of Sidious’ schemes unravel because someone starts to question “hey why is the Chancellor spending so much time alone with a young female celibate military official/priest, enough that he’s been credibly accused of siring her child?” And then Some Intrepid Reporter keeps digging deeper and deeper and OH SHIT)

Anyway, the more Obi-Wan thinks about it, the more sense it makes.

Now, he just needs to prove it, and that will solve several problems at once.

(Also, then he’d be justified in punching Palpatine right in his smug face which seems a REALLY ATTRACTIVE notion right at this moment.)

MEANWHILE MEANWHILE

Anakin is not answering Padme’s calls.

Padme is Very Concerned about this, because Anakin was supposed to be here a while ago for the checkup and it took a hell of a lot of effort to talk her into it.

Finally, out of desperation, she calls Obi-Wan.

Because yes, this might explode their secret and really Ani should be the one to tell him but...

Obi-Wan is pulled out of his ‘how to get away with punching Palpatine right in his smug face’ plotting and answers.

He tells her that Anakin is ill, that she collapsed, and is with the Healers now, but has been stabilized and will be all right.

And then they both sort of dance around the ‘baby’ question for a while.

Because Padme doesn’t want to spill all of Anakin’s secrets, and Obi-Wan isn’t sure that Padme knows, and doesn’t want to complicate/damage this relationship for Anakin, especially since she’s almost certainly going to end up leaving the Order and she’ll need someone to go to and...

(He adds “figure out what I’m going to do at that point” to his to-do list.)

(Look, there’s a decent chance that even the main version of Distaff will turn into Obianidala eventually, depending on a couple different factors. This variant? Almost certainly would.)

Finally, Padme can’t take it anymore and just blurts it out, “what about the baby, is he okay?”

And Obi-Wan has reached a point where he’s going, “you know what? FUCK IT.” And he tells her--yes, the baby is okay, also there are two of them, also Master Che says Anakin was poisoned and that’s why she collapsed and nearly miscarried, also I’m almost entirely certain that Chancellor Palpatine was involved but I have no proof.

And Padme? Padme sees red.

“So,” she says, “let’s find some.”

Because Padme is already starting to see through Palpatine’s mask.

And now he’s coming after her wife and children.

Obi-Wan, as it turns out, responds much better to “meet me at the docks at midnight and bring a gun” than Bail did.

So, back in the Temple, Anakin has managed to extract herself from the conversation with Master Che, mostly by cooperating for once/playing on the fact that she’s sick to be left alone.

AS SOON AS she can, she unhooks all the monitors and her IV and sneaks out.

She manages not to faint or throw up. She’s very proud of herself for that.

She just wants some answers, really. Part of her still can’t accept what Palpatine probably did, but maybe he noticed something strange about her when she visited? She didn’t start to feel sick until leaving his office, but...

She runs into Obi-Wan and Padme, who are also on their way to break into Palps’s office to get some answers.

Padme: Ani! ::goes to hold her close because fuck it she could have died our children could have died and it’s only Obi-Wan here to see and I don’t think he cares anymore::

Anakin: ::clings back, looks from her to Obi-Wan and back:: What are you doing here...?

Obi-Wan: What are you doing out of bed?

And then there is Banter for a moment until Padme says, “uh, guys? Mission? Trying to track down/prove who was behind the whole poison thing?”

Except then they have to argue whether or not Anakin should really be there, which Obi-Wan and Padme win mostly by a) teaming up on her and b) darling you are clearly using the wall to stay upright go wait in my office.

Obi-Wan and Padme break into Palps’s office together.

He’s not there--he’s left for the day, or something. Especially it’s probably very late at night by now.

Now, of course he’s not stupid enough to keep Incriminating Evidence lying around. So they don’t find anything like...a discarded poison vial in the trash, let alone the ring.

They do find--something. I’m not sure what. Possibly the Emperor’s Darth Sidious’ Private Holo Setting(tm).

(Thank you, Timothy Zahn, I love that joke)

And then Palpatine comes back.

Because he sensed someone breaking into his office.

Or he has a mundane alarm system set up and they tripped it.

Obi-Wan gets between Padme and Palpatine and draws his lightsaber.

Off in Padme’s office, Anakin’s Spidey Sense is tingling.

She runs after the others, and walks in on the Confrontation scene.

Now, there are some things that even Anakin can’t ignore. Not at this point in her timeline.

Palpatine might have a split second to realize just how thoroughly He Done Fucked Up before two lightsabers and a half-dozen blaster bolts punch him in the face.

So, Our Heroes are now in the Supreme Chancellor’s office, which they broke into, standing over his Very Dead Body.

They stare at each other for a minute. “...did that really just happen?”

And then Anakin actually does faint again, breaking the moment.

Obi-Wan: ::catches her:: we need to get out of here.

Padme: we can’t run away, we have to deal with the fallout.

Obi-Wan: well yes but we should probably not be caught at the actual scene of the crime?

Padme: ...good point.

From there--IDK, there’d be a long investigation but the proof would probably come through pretty quick once Palps is no longer actively protecting it.

Obi-Wan probably still goes to kill Grievous, since something in Palpatine’s files says he’s on Utapau.

Master Che straight-up ties Anakin to the bed to make sure she doesn’t follow.

Bail gets dragged into this mess to help Padme deal with the political fallout.

He probably ends up Chancellor, or possibly Mon Mothma does--the scandal surrounding Padme and the Jedi and the whole, y’know, Justifiable Regicide bit is a little too much to put her there.

There’s probably a lot of Discussion in the Order about everything that went down. Probably, once the war is Officially over, Anakin and Obi-Wan both leave.

And then there will be More Discussion once the twins are around Padawan age. But that is beyond the scope of this outline.

Basically, everything ends happily because, unlike in canon where Palps is p. much the only one on the ball, He Done Fucked Up.

#shadowsong26fic #shadowsong writes star wars #things shadowsong will never actually write #distaff #au outlines for the win

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ltbroccoli-archive · 7 years

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Verses (Mobile)

CHILDHOOD baby broccoli

Pre-canon, headcanon based. FC: Liam Aiken & Louis Hynes. Reg is a timid child, growing up in Cleveland. This childhood is not a happy one; Reg’s mother is particular and controlling, his sister is caring but often gone, and his father is completely out of the picture.

STARFLEET ACADEMY seclusive tendencies

Pre-canon. After entering the Academy at age 17, Reg follows the operations track, with a specific focus in general engineering and systems diagnostics. He is a good student, but noted for his tendency to keep to himself.

ENTERPRISE flagship of the federation

TNG canon. Reg is a Systems Diagnostics Engineer aboard the Enterprise D, holding the rank Lieutenant Junior Grade. At first he struggles to fit in, turning to the holodeck to cope and eventually succumbing to full-blown holo-addiction. However, with help from Chief Engineer La Forge and Counselor Troi, Reg recovers from this and slowly but surely finds himself a place aboard as one of the crew’s top engineers. He also participates in some of Dr. Crusher’s theater programs, and is the preferred cat-sitter for Data’s cat Spot.

NTH DEGREE the person i’ve always wanted to be

TNG canon for the episode “The Nth Degree”, subverse of above. After an encounter with a Cytherian probe, Reg’s intelligence, confidence, and artistic abilities have all been vastly increased to far beyond that of a typical human. His personality has also been altered, driving him to integrate himself with the ship’s computer via the holodeck. As the computer, he initiates a deep space jump into unknown space, where the crew meets the Cytherians themselves, who are peaceful. Reg is then returned to normal.

JUPITER STATION the only engineer i trust

Canon, between TNG & VOY. Due to his expertise in holographic technology, Reg is briefly assigned to Jupiter Station to assist Dr. Lewis Zimmerman in the creation of the Emergency Medical Hologram. Though their natures seem direct opposites, Reg and Zimmerman remain friends well after this short assignment. By now, he holds the rank of Lieutenant.

PATHFINDER how lonely that must be

VOY canon. Reg is assigned to the Pathfinder Project on Earth, based in StarFleet’s headquarters in San Francisco. Their main object is to locate and contact the starship Voyager, lost in the Delta Quadrant. Reg has a bold idea to contact the ship, which is turned down; determined, he breaks into the project headquarters and implements his plan anyway, risking his entire career. It is successful, and Reg is able to maintain semi-regular communication with the starship, befrending a good number of the crew.

PROFESSOR no different than the borg queen

VOY post-canon. Years after Pathfinder Project, Reg, now a Commander, returns to StarFleet Academy as a professor. Though he mostly sticks to engineering and astrophysics classes, he enjoys a special class on the Borg co-taught with Admiral Janeway every few years.

MIRROR ( TERRAN EMPIRE ) making an opportunity

Mirror universe, based on the TNG comic series “Mirror Broken”. The great Terran Empire has fallen to the Klingon-Cardassian Alliance… mostly. A handful of ships survive at the edge of Klingon-Cardassian space, gathering their forces and hoping to one day take back what was theirs. After years of serving aboard the I.S.S. Stargazer as an engineer, Reg finally seizes his chance for greater power by assassinating Security Chief Tasha Yar. Now appointed the new Chief of Security, he is part of Picard’s senior staff as they take over the Terran Empire’s newest starship, the I.S.S. Enterprise.

MIRROR ( TERRAN RESISTANCE ) the world turned upside down

Mirror universe, inspired by DS9 canon. Reg’s mother is a Terran collaborator, willing to trade in her own people for a few basic comforts. Growing up, Reg learned very quickly that anxiety and timidity wouldn’t cut it – he had to learn to defend himself. His sister Jax helped him a great deal, teaching him how to fight. At times, the siblings even dare to trust each other.

However, when Jax overhears their mother’s plans to trade Reg into slavery, they take matters into their own hands, killing her in her sleep. After that, they flee to the other side of the quadrant, joining the Terran Resistance. Reg quickly proves his usefulness as an engineer, while Jax struggles to prove anything at all. Finally, she goes alone on a dangerous mission… and never returns. She is presumed dead.

VOYAGER CREWMAN set a course for home

Voyager based AU. After serving aboard the Enterprise E, Reg briefly transfers to the starship Voyager for what is meant to be a three week repair of the ship’s systems. However, it turns into far more than that when Voyager is thrown 70,000 lightyears away into the Delta Quadrant. Now a permanent member of the crew, Reg is in the running for Chief Engineer, losing the position to former Maquis B'Elanna Torres. There are few hard feelings, however, and he does all he can to assist her and be one of her top engineers.

MODERN welcome to the world of tomorrow

AU set vaguely during modern times. Year range is flexible anywhere from the 1960s to present day. Reg’s mother is a very rich lawyer in Cleveland, Ohio; his father is out of the picture, kicked out of the house during his childhood. After going to community college for a few years, Reg moves to a small town to become a mechanic, working for Geordi La Forge. He lives in a tiny, dirty trailer half a mile away from his work, where he has essentially adopted all the stray cats in the area.

HARRY POTTER draco dormiens nunquam titillandus

AU based on the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. A full detailed timeline can be found here. For Reg/Liz specific verse, info on their children can be found here.

As far as Reg knows, he is a perfectly normal human – until Minerva McGonagall shows up at his home one day to explain that he is actually a wizard. All of the random occurrences and accidental cat summonings suddenly make sense. Alicia is determined that her son will not be any part of this nonsense, but finally agrees to let him attend Hogwarts School of Witchdraft and Wizardry, just so he can learn to control his abilities.

Reg’s sister takes him to Diagon Alley, where he gets his school supplies and his first wand, larch wood with unicorn hair core. When he arrives at Hogwarts, he is immediately sorted into Hufflepuff. Though he struggles with his magic at first, he grows stronger and stronger as his confidence increases, until he is one of the most powerful wizards in his class.

During his time at Hogwarts, Reg also discovers that he is not a Muggle-born, as he always believed; his father, whom he has not seen since age seven, is also a wizard, which technically makes Reg a half-blood. It takes several years for Reg to find and reach out to his father, but he eventually does. Both are Hufflepuffs.

After graduating, Reg moves to Hogsmeade, where he works for several years as a magical repairman. He discovers he has a knack for making magic and Muggle technology play along. Eventually, after the Second Wizarding War, he returns to Hogwarts as the new Muggle Studies professor. Several years later, he becomes the new head of Hufflepuff house.

STARGATE chevron one encoded

AU based on the Stargate television series. Can be based on SG-1 and/or Atlantis. Dr. Reginald Barclay is one of several scientists assigned to work at Area 51, studying alien artifacts brought back to Earth as part of the top secret Stargate program. Though he does good work if assigned to something small on his own, he struggles to make himself heard when in collaboration with his colleagues, though he is slowly getting better.

Eventually, he is pulled from Area 51 and sent to Stargate Command itself, where he works under Colonel Samantha Carter. Here, he struggles even more to fit in, as everyone else has quite the reputation and he is just… some nervous new scientist. But he manages to prove his worth.

When crew is being chosen for the Atlantis mission, Reg reluctantly volunteers, despite being terrified of the Stargate. Upon reaching the alien city itself, Reg is surprised to find that he loves it, all the strange spires and endless views of the ocean planet. He is less enthusiastic about his boss, Dr. Rodney McKay, but he tries his best regardless.

THE ORVILLE we have got to get better people

AU based on The Orville television series. Most backstory information is the same as main timeline verses. Lieutenant Reginald Barclay is a recent transfer to the U.S.S. Orville, working in the Engineering department.

POKEMON gotta catch em all

AU based on the Pokemon franchise. Mun is mostly familiar with the first three generations. Throughout all of his childhood, Reg dreams of being a Pokemon master, like most children. However, that is not to be. His mother demands that he find a sensible job, and forget that foolish nonsense. His only Pokemon for many years is a Meowth named Mira, who he found abandoned and injured and took care of. Mira eventually evolves into a beautiful Persian who will not leave her owner’s side.

Reg eventually becomes a mechanic and handyman in Cerulean City, where he makes a decent enough living. His older sister, meanwhile, pursues her dream of becoming a Pokemon trainer, finally settling down near Saffron City. As the years pass, Reg starts amassing a small team of Pokemon: his Persian, Mira; a Glitten with a mangled paw named Wrigley; and a Dragonite named Oscar.

FARSCAPE rattlers in the stomach

AU based on the Farscape television series. Reg is born on a small Sebacean colony near the Uncharted Territories, and he grows up knowing that he may one day be conscripted into Peacekeeper service. When the day finally comes, it’s all he can do not to cry as he is pulled away from his family and forced to live aboard a cold, harsh military vessel.

Soon enough, everyone learns that he simply isn’t suited for a soldier’s lifestyle; he is too hesitant and soft. To everyone else, sending him off to be a tech is a demotion, but for Reg, it’s perfect. It’s work he can actually do, and work that doesn’t require any actual combat. As long as he doesn’t think about what he may be supporting, everything is fine…

WARRIORS may starclan light your path

AU based on the Warriors book series. During a particularly harsh WindClan leaf-bare, two kits are born. Sparrowkit is named for the color of her fur, while Stammerkit is named for the odd way he shakes and trembles. Little did anyone know how accurate Stammerkit’s name would later turn out to be.

As apprentices, Sparrowpaw excels in all areas, particularly fighting, while Stammerpaw struggles with everything. Eventually, he grows into a good hunter, but his fighting skills lack. Sparrowpaw becomes a warrior, called Sparrowsong, before him, much to Stammerpaw’s dismay. After several more moons of hard work, Stammerpaw eventually earns his warrior name as well: Stammertail.

Though not a gifted fighter, and not a good choice for a mentor, Stammertail is fiercely loyal to his Clan and serves them in his own ways. He is an excellent hunter and tracker, and often can be found helping the queens with their kits or helping the medicine cats gather herbs. However, he tends to freeze up during battles, and is often left behind to guard the camp.

REG & D'RORAH daughter of light

With drorah-walks. When an immortal being decides to relive a human childhood to rekindle her connection with humanity, she chooses Reg to be her father. He agrees, and D'rorah Philosophy enters his life as his five-year-old daughter, the result of a weekend on Risa who has just lost her mother. Reg has no memory of making this agreement, fully believing that this child is truly his daughter… until an accident in engineering causes amnesia. When his memories return, so do his memories of what D'rorah truly is. However, he decides to continue, unwilling to leave the child he loves without a father just because he’s afraid.

Reg and D'rorah are inseparable, even when she is grown up and moved out. D'rorah eventually adopts a Cardassian girl from a Bajoran orphanage named Rilla, who Reg loves to spoil rotten. When Reg dies, D'rorah’s memories of who she really is will slowly return, and she will have to live on forever without him…

REG & LIZ kidnapped

With nashforhire. Elizabeth Nash needs to hide from some former business partners. The best way to do that is with a bit of a human shield; she chooses Reg. After kissing him, running through Deep Space 9 with him while under fire, and taking him all the way to the Gamma Quadrant, no one would expect Reg to want anything to do with her ever again. And yet… he does. They slowly become unlikely friends, and then more, until Reg finally asks her on a date. While Reg is still stationed on the Enterprise, he and Liz have a long-distance relationship, seizing every opportunity to see each other that they possibly can. However, even that finally isn’t enough, and Reg transfers to DS9 to live with her and work for Chief O'Brien. Eventually they are married and have four children: Sofia, Oliver, and the twins, Charlotte and Victoria.

RUNAWAYS ( REG & LIZ ) partners in crime

With nashforhire. Reg and Liz have been best friends since they were children. Considering their respective childhoods, there are some days where they are the only good thing in each other’s lives. Eventually, at age sixteen, Liz decides she can’t do it anymore and decides to run away, leaving Earth behind entirely. After some hesitation, Reg agrees to go with her. It isn’t easy, and there are several close calls where StarFleet almost catches them to drag Reg back to his mother. But eventually, they have their own ship, the Nomad, and run their own shipping business together.

REG & AELLA she’s on my mind

With empathicstars. Reg slowly befriends a Betazoid communications officer aboard the Enterprise, Lieutenant Aella Moore. Eventually, he has a fairly serious crush on her, but before he has any chance of asking her out, the away mission from hell happens. The two are accidentally beamed into a warzone, and Reg throws himself in front of a phaser blast to protect Aella. The shot should have killed him. But Aella, trained in her telepathy by Vulcans, initiates a mind meld to keep him alive. The meld has strange effects on both of them, even after their return to the ship, and neither of them quite knows how to move forward…

REG & Q show me the stars

With qisforqaos. Q has always been a nuisance to Reg. Always. That is, until he starts taking a liking to Reg and showing him around the universe… befriending him… and perhaps even more…

REG & MURDOCK oh brother

With drowningvoices. Reg and his twin brother have always done everything together, until StarFleet. That’s when their assignments took them different directions, and while Murdock rose in the ranks, Reg barely made it past Ensign. Then one day, Reg got the news – his brother had been in a horrible accident, and his mind was no longer what it was. Now, Murdock lives full-time in a psychiatric hospital, where Reg visits as often as he can. The two are extremely protective of each other, even still.

REG & ALARA only fools rush in

With flightxless; The Orville AU. Reg and Alara meet during less than ideal circumstances, when they both have been captured and must escape together. A few weeks later, however, Reg transfers aboard the Orville, and upon realizing they are now on the same ship, he works up the courage to ask her out.

OHANA ad augusta per angusta

Group verse, AOS based. Primarily on Discord. After encountering a strange anomaly, Reg has been thrown back to the Enterprise A of an alternate timeline. With almost no chance of getting home, he does what he can to settle into this new life, primarily working with the ship’s prototype holodeck system.

#mobile pages

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whitewolfofwinterfell · 5 years

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The Punisher season 2 review

The Punisher season 2 was released 18 January and since I’ve finally finished watching it I thought I’d share my thoughts about the season.

First of all, I should say that I’m new to The Punisher, and watched both seasons within a week of each other, so there’ll some mentions/comparisons between the two seasons since they’re both fresh in my mind. This will also be a critical review (it’s not very positive towards Billy Russo, Krista Dumont, Amy Bendix and a teeny bit negative about Kastle - more about the way they were written than the ship itself) that analyses the writing of the characters and plots.

On a whole The Punisher is inconsistent across both its seasons. It has brilliant, compelling episodes that have you on the edge of your seat, laughing and crying all within the space of 50 minutes, but likewise there are some episodes that lack in substance, are slow paced and not very engaging. Season 2 is no exception to that. Whilst the first episode of the season started out strong (it was by far one of my favourites of the season) and the finale was equally strong, the episodes in between were a very mixed bag. So I thought I’d sum up what I liked and didn’t like about the season, like a pros and cons list of sorts.

What I liked about season 2:

JON FREAKIN’ BERNTHAL - This man is a God. I cannot praise his performance of Frank enough. He devotes every piece of his heart and soul to being Frank Castle (this is a man who does all of his own stunts and broke his hand on one of the first days of filming season 2 whilst doing a stunt, but was so dedicated that he continued performing stunts with a mangled hand because he didn’t want to stop working) and it really shows. His on-screen presence is magnificent, he’s captivating, exhilarating and captures the rage, brutality, vulnerability, grief, empathy and hopelessness that’s inside Frank. Frank’s character and Jon’s performance is what holds the show together and makes it what it is. I’m not ashamed to admit that he’s 99% of the reason that I continued watching until the end of season 2 and he deserves to win all of the awards for his memorable performance. (Unfortunately, Jon has been held back by not-so-good writing which prevents him from going even further with in the role, which I’ll discuss more later).

The first episode of the season - I’ve seen mixed opinions about the first episode of season 2 ‘Roadhouse Blues’, but I loved it. It was the perfect place to pick up after where we left Frank in season 1. His main mission - to kill the men responsible for the deaths of his family - was complete and he was faced with the prospect of trying to rebuild his life in the absence of a war. It was good to see Frank just be Frank for five minutes, have a drink in a bar, listen to a band play and flirt with a pretty woman. This episode felt like fantastic character development to me, because Frank spent the entirety of season 1 consumed with war and the season ended with the realisation that he needed to try and start moving forward from that and begin the healing process. Beth was clearly not going to be a serious love interest, she was simply a nice person who Frank connected with and with whom he could ease the loneliness that plagues him. It would be detrimental to Frank’s characterisation to deprive him of this kind of intimacy, because it’s part of what prevents him from being happy - his inability to let anyone get close to him, particularly in a romantic/sexual context, because of his intense love for Maria and fear of harm coming to anyone that gets close to him. It was also nice to see Frank interact with Beth’s son because Frank comes to life whenever he’s around kids. It really serves as a reminder as to how much of a brilliant father it was and how heartbreaking it is that he will never have a chance to have that interaction with his own children. But of course, there was sprinklings of the big bad Punisher. The introduction of Amy, and Frank’s rampage in saving her life, contradicted the development Frank seemed to be going through in the rest of the episode, but was very fitting. Beth getting hurt confirmed Frank’s fears that anybody that gets close to him is in danger, but we all knew that he couldn’t just give up his lifestyle as the Punisher because that’s come to be his purpose and driving force in life. Like Amy said, it was like he was looking for an excuse to swoop in, save the day and embark on another war. It might have been nice for Frank to have some normality for a while, but he still wasn’t ready to truly move forward from being the Punisher. Overall, this episode was great and a very strong start to the season. It also perfectly demonstrated a key theme of The Punisher - the internal war inside Frank about whether he should fully embrace being the Punisher or give it up.

Frank and Madani’s friendship - I loved seeing the evolving dynamic between Frank and Madani. Whilst they were kind of allies in season 1, this season built upon that a lot and created a very endearing friendship between two unlikely characters. The traumas they faced with Billy bonded them and it was fascinating to see Madani’s character development in trying to navigate her loyalties to her job and Frank. Madani’s a very moral character who strongly believes in justice, and aiding Frank both affirms those beliefs and contradicts them. On the one hand, Frank’s moral code is very similar to Madani’s except that he operates outside the boundaries of the law, but on the other, there’s no escaping that Frank’s a criminal. I enjoyed seeing how fiercely she defended Frank and that she never even doubted Frank when it came to the murder of those three women. She knew immediately that Frank wouldn’t have done that and it was a testament to how well she has come to know him and how much she believes in what he does. If there’s a season 3, I hope to see more of their friendship.

Curtis/Frank and Curtis’ friendship - Curtis is a great character who balances out the brutality and darkness of the other characters. He has a pure heart and good intentions, and it was wonderful to see more of him in season 2. His friendship with Frank was a particularly important facet of the season (as it was in season 1), because Curt felt like the only true friendship and connection that Frank had. Although he also had Madani and Amy, Curt was the only one who he has a long history with and their interactions showed that depth of history and bond that they share. It’s a shame we didn’t get to know more about Curtis as a character e.g. more about his back-story and personal experiences, but I enjoyed seeing so much of him in season 2.

Action scenes - Season 2 definitely wasn’t as brutal as season 1, but there were still some great action scenes in there that make The Punisher what it is. Although the action isn’t the primary reason I watch (I know it is for a lot of people, particularly male fans), the show wouldn’t be what it is without the violence. Jon commitment to doing all of his own stunts only improves the action scenes since we can physically see that Frank is fighting (unlike BTVS where I’m taken out of the moment of a fight by the vision of some random stunt woman in SMG’s place). Also, this is slightly off topic but if Frank were a real live man, he would be completely dead. How could any man receive the brutal beatings he does and survive, let alone be well enough to go back out the next day and get into another fight?

I wanted to find pick out more aspects of season 2 that I enjoyed, but unfortunately, I couldn’t. The shipper in me loved the scenes we got between Frank and Karen in 2x11 ‘The Abyss’ and were everything I wanted to see, but I was unable to fully enjoy them because the way in which they were written felt like fan-service. Karen was absent from the entirety of season 2 (she was only mentioned once in the first episode by Frank) and as far as we were aware Frank had had no communication with her since the events of 1x10 ‘Virtue of the Vicious’ which I assume was a few months before the start of season 2. So to bring Karen in like that for one episode and have those very intense scenes with Frank felt...out of place. Plus, she disappeared again immediately afterwards without even another mention. I know this issue was likely because of Deborah’s commitments to filming The Defenders at the same time that season 2 was being filmed, but even if Deborah couldn’t physically feature on episodes, Karen could’ve been more present on the show through references from Frank, whether that was simply talking about her in general conversation or mentioning that he’d been in touch with her (or even a two minute phone call where Deborah wouldn’t necessarily had to of been on-screen) and then her appearance wouldn’t have felt quite so sudden.

What I disliked about season 2:

The wacky timeline - Season 1 had a decent amount of flashbacks, but the timeline of season 2 felt incredibly disjointed and seemed to jump back and fourth incoherently. This was a particular problem with Billy whose flashbacks and timelines didn’t seem to fit with the events of the rest of the show.

The pacing - It’s true that season 1 suffered from pacing issues (largely because the plots that are created on the show aren’t enough to maintain 13 50 minute episodes of television), but season 2 suffered from bad pacing on a grander scale. Some of the episodes felt like they were entirely made up of filler and there were plenty of times where I was on my phone or laptop whilst watching and still didn’t miss much of anything.

The main plot(s) - I know I’m not the only one that struggled, but I just didn’t even follow the plot this season. Once again this comes back to the lack of coherence overall. The Pilgrim plot seemed to be thrown in haphazardly alongside the Billy-Krista plot and there was no connection between the two. Although it’s common for shows to have an overarching plot and then one or two smaller sub-plots, the way the plots were executed just didn’t work. One moment the emphasis was almost entirely on Billy and the next it was on Pilgrim. Episode 10 ‘The Dark Hearts of Men’ really emphasised this issue. The primary focus was on Frank and Curt staking out Russo’s hideout, and so the scenes with Pilgrim spinning off the deep end with alcohol and drugs felt completely irrelevant and disjointed. The scenes between Madani and Krista were important to revealing Billy’s plans, but they also felt disjointed, particularly since it was unclear those scenes were a flashback until the very end of the episode. This kind of incoherence was really one of the main issues I had with season 2 overall.

Krista Dumont - I really didn’t like Krista’s character or the part she played in the season. She was unlikeable, she had way too much focus for a new character and the manipulative psychologist trope is so cliche. I’d like to believe that someone so obviously corrupt and unstable as Krista wouldn’t be granted access to vulnerable people like Billy. Billy was lost and broken at the start of the season, he didn’t know where to turn and Krista used her influence over him to push him over to the dark side. One might argue Billy would have gone over to the dark side anyway since that’s the nature of his character, but nonetheless Krista was still a huge influence on Billy. Her relationship with Billy was cringey and unappealing. Billy’s arc would’ve been so much better if she hadn’t of been a part of it. Any attempts to make her sympathetic through her relationship with Billy, her scars or her phobias of heights/windows completely failed, yet the writing didn’t go far enough to portray her as a villain. Overall, she was a very unwelcome addition to the season and I’m sure I’m not the only one that was just waiting for her to disappear from the screen each time she came on.

Billy’s arc - Billy was an interesting character, a great villain and I loved his arc in season 1, but in season 2 it was awful. It felt like Billy’s story had already run its course in season 1 (I think it would’ve been more fitting if Frank had killed him at the end of season 1) and the result was that his entire arc was very repetitive and dull. Whilst I appreciate the shows exploration of mental health (which it does better than many shows I’ve watched), it was boring to watch endless scenes of Billy chatting with Krista. In addition, his facial disfigurement wasn’t severe enough or explored enough. The purpose of Frank mashing his face into the mirror was to take away his beauty, destroy his self-image, give an external visual of his internal ugliness and serve as a reminder of the awful betrayal he committed against Frank and his family. Unfortunately, by wiping Billy’s memories that impact was completely lost and too much time was wasted trying to help Billy retrieve his memories rather than exploring the complex issues of his psyche. His arc also seemed to jump all over the place. I’ve already mentioned the continuity issues with the timeline, but his motivations were also incredibly spotty. He got out of hospital and the first thing he did was kill the man that abused him as a child but why? Since he couldn’t remember the events of season 1 he was no longer out to get Frank, but it still didn’t make sense that he would revert to wanting to kill that man. Presumably he had years to do that, why now? Then he suddenly recruited a bunch of veterans and convinced them it was a good idea to go around the city committing acts of mindless violence and crime. Why? When he found out Frank was the one responsible for nearly killing him his motives switched to wanting to destroy Frank, which was understandable and his method of doing that (making Frank think he’d killed three innocent women) was very effective. Unfortunately, Billy’s characterisation and arc was so jumpy that it lacked any real impact. When Frank finally killed him in the final episode all I felt was relief that he was gone. And not because he was a villain or because of the awful things he’d done, but because I was so bored of him. Billy had the potential to be a fantastically complex villain but it felt like Lightwood didn’t know what to do with him in season 2 so just had him lurch from one villainous thing to another (often with no real reason) whilst simultaneously trying to paint him as a sympathetic victim. Unfortunately, the writing failed to really make Billy either of these things and I grew very tired of him by the end of the second episode. I also found Ben Barnes acting to be a little iffy this season. I saw someone comment that he ‘over-acted’ a lot, and I’d be inclined to agree.

Amy’s character/arc - Before watching the season I saw a lot of edits of Amy and Frank/Amy and was looking forward to the new dynamic she was going to bring to the show, but I was really disappointed. As a character, Amy felt underdeveloped, stale and for the most part unsympathetic. Although one of the main plots of the season was focused on her I wasn’t invested in her enough to care and she was way too passive within her own plot. For the majority of the season it felt like she was hanging around for Frank rather than actively being involved in the events that were unfolding. Although she was technically an ‘innocent’ young girl, she didn’t feel worth the time or effort that Frank (and others) invested in saving her. We know that Frank is concerned about the well-being of innocents (particularly women and children because they represent Maria and his kids), but I didn’t understand why Frank was so invested in Amy. That’s largely because her relationship with Frank felt...meh to me (which is no affornt to Giorga’s acting or her chemistry with Jon, it’s more about the writing). I understand exactly what their relationship was supposed to be - a connection to Frank’s daughter and an opportunity for him to bond as a father with a young girl who would’ve been Lisa’s age - but it didn’t work for me. I didn’t see the development of their relationship, it just felt like they went from being strangers who gave each other false names to friends over night. There were a few scenes between them that were adorable (I particularly loved the one where they were playing 3 card brag and Frank was getting frustrated because he sucked so much at it haha), but overall the relationship was lacklustre and therefore I wasn’t invested in it, Amy or her arc.

The lack of focus on Frank - Frank Castle is the heart and soul of The Punisher because he is the Punisher. The show has a strong cast but Jon Bernthal’s is the star of the show and without a doubt the best aspect of The Punisher. I can’t speak for everyone that watches the show but my guess is that a majority of people watch for Frank. We love him and he’s the one we’re most invested in. Unfortunately, in comparison to season 1, season 2 seemed to take a big step back from Frank. In fact, it felt like we saw more of Billy than Frank. Even Krista seemed to get nearly as much screen time as Frank despite being a brand new character. The confrontation with Billy was really the only part of this season that felt like it was about Frank, but even that was more focused on Billy than Frank. Everything about Frank this season was directly tied to others - particularly Billy and Amy - and it felt like he was propelling everybody else’s arcs forward rather than having his own. As the main character, that’s definitely not what Frank’s purpose should be. He’s the leading man and the plots should be built around him with the supporting characters supporting him (the clue is in the title lol) and propelling his arc forward. In season 1, I feel like he had a fantastic journey and brilliant character development, but not so much in season 2. If the show is cancelled and season 2 is the last season it’s so sad to see Frank still living his life as the Punisher having not truly found closure or happiness. Some may think it was a fitting ending because the show is titled The Punisher after all, and they believe Frank cannot be ‘saved’ or ‘redeemed’ or find any alternative other than living as the Punisher, but personally, I see the show as being about Frank Castle, the man, as much as it’s about The Punisher, the anti-hero. This is a complex issue about Frank’s character, because everyone has different interpretations of what/who his character should be, but personally I believe that the core of Frank’s arc should be about his humanity, so it was disappointing to see the way the season ended. (As a side note, I’m currently in the process of writing an in-depth analysis of Frank’s character, so keep your eyes peeled if that’s of interest to you). The show should really make full use of Frank/Jon (which it did in season 1), because Jon’s fantastic acting has the ability to disguise some of the bigger issues with the writing from view. I know that I spent the entirety of season 2 glued to my screen whenever Frank was on and the second Billy, Krista or Pilgrim appeared on-screen my attention slowly waned and my phone found its way into my hands.

Overall, I don’t think season 2 was as strong as season 1 (’Home’ is above and beyond any season 2 episode) and it definitely wasn’t a strong enough season for Netflix to want to renew it for a third season (although I still think there’s a possibility it might return, but perhaps I’m being optimistic). However, Jon is a fantastically talented actor who still has so much to give, the show has a lot of potential and there’s still a lot of interesting stories that could develop if there is a third season. The show definitely hasn’t reached its full potential and therefore, it would be incredibly sad to see it cancelled. With a few tweaks to the writing, more attention to detail and focus on fleshing out the characters and plots, The Punisher could be amazing. Plus, who doesn’t want to see Jon Bernthal return to our screens as Frank Castle? I know that I certainly do.

Overall rating: 6/10

(For reference, this review really sums up a lot of my thoughts on the season.)

#the punisher #tps2 #tps2 spoilers #frank castle #billy russo #the punisher meta #mine #my meta #i never know how to tag these meta posts i write #not that anyone ever reads them anyway lol

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gumnut-logic · 5 years

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Fischler vs. Tracy

Title: Fischler vs. Tracy

Sequel to ‘Sleeping Wounded’

Author: Gumnut

2 – 8 Jan 2019

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: Scott Tracy punched Langstrom Fischler. Scott thought he deserved it, but apparently Fischler didn’t agree, and he filed assault charges.

Word count: 10,670

Spoilers & warnings: Possible spoilers up to end S2. Virgil is not healthy for most of this.

Timeline: Sequel to ‘Sleeping Wounded’.

Author’s note: This was supposed to be a short fic. It didn’t stay that way. In fact, the entire inspirational scene for the whole thing didn’t actually end up happening. It kinda did what it felt like and ended up huge. It has its moments, and I hope you enjoy them. Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom for the initial prompt that sprouted all this and for her wonderful help when I nearly went crazy staring at this. And also to @scribbles97 for the reality check at crazy o’clock. You guys are wonderful and I couldn’t do this without you.

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

The press were having a field day.

Dressed head to toe in a sleek grey suit, blue tie and his hair so soaked in product, the wind didn’t have a chance, Scott was the point of an arrowhead of Tracys. Virgil walked on his right, John on his left, and Gordon and Alan behind them respectively.

None of them had a smile on their faces, and all were similarly dressed, broad shoulders and expensive fabrics. One of the rare occasions that shouted the power they wielded and the money they owned.

Kayo strode ahead of them, similarly attired, but that didn’t stop her from asserting her security muscle as needed to move the press out of their path.

Unfortunately, they were unable to move very fast as one, as Virgil was still hampered by his injuries. It was tactical on their lawyers’ part. Show the judge exactly what injuries Fischler had been responsible for. Scott still sported his wrist brace, but had otherwise recovered. Virgil’s face still bore the yellows and greens of bruising, the damage to his forehead blatant and painful to look at, and, of course, his arm was still in a cast, but it was his ribs that were slowing them down. Movement still hurt and this was going to be a tiring day for his brother.

Not to mention having his injuries plastered all over the world’s holoprojectors.

It set Scott’s blood boiling.

“Scott Tracy! Do you have a response to Langstrom Fischler’s accusations that International Rescue are out to ruin him?” Holocams buzzed around like bees as they reached the entrance to Wellington’s District Court, and the press moved in on them.

Scott instinctively stepped in front of Virgil and out the corner of his eye he saw Gordon step up to his brother’s side.

“No comment.”

Scott was well known to the world’s media as a very private individual. The only reporter who had ever managed a decent interview was Kat Cavanaugh, and popular opinion believed she had had to break both her legs to get it.

Secretly he enjoyed the mystique that surrounded his public figure. It gave him a modicum of power and respect, and considering some of the people he had to interact with out in the field, he needed all the respect he could muster.

Kayo made her presence known and a path opened before them. Scott nudged Virgil behind him and led his brothers through the gauntlet. He registered John dropping to the back of the line, bracketing the youngest between them.

Virgil muttered something incomprehensible to himself.

And as one they entered the building.

-o-o-o-

The holographic files were beginning to blur. Scott shunted one across the desk and binned it.

Two seconds later, he realised that it was the most important report on his desk, and hurriedly dug it out again.

God, he was tired. With the trial, the lawyers, and the attack, all on top of day to day International Rescue there was nothing left.

Damn Fischler to hell.

A hand landed on his shoulder. “Time for bed.”

He didn’t even bother to look up at his brother. “No can do. Need to file these for the lawyers.”

A brown gaze lasered across the desktop. “Anything I can do?”

“No, and besides...” His brain finally caught up. “You should be resting.” The day had been hard and Virgil had suffered for it. He looked up to find his brother still pale. “Go to bed.”

“You first.”

“Can’t.”

“Okay.” And the hand vanished. Scott rubbed his eyes.

But was not surprised to hear the opening strains of one of Virgil’s piano compositions dance across the air from behind him.

“Virgil.” The man was attempting to play with a broken arm, for crying out loud.

“What?”

Scott winced as a key was missed. He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know it was accompanied by a grimace.

“What are you doing?”

“Practising.”

Another key stumbled and this time it was Scott who grimaced. He turned to face his brother. The man was hunched over the keys, stubbornly fingering out the tune despite the fact his cast prevented him from even the mildest of finger stretches.

An off key twanged through the air once again.

“Virgil.”

“Yes, Scott?”

“Go to bed.”

“You first.” And that was a solid wince from his stubborn brother.

Scott sighed and stood up. “Fine. Move your ass.”

The music continued for just a moment before Virgil awkwardly riffed it to a close and shut the lid. Hugging his broken arm to his belly, he shuffled sideways off the piano stool and stood with a painful grunt.

“You are such an idiot.”

Tired brown eyes smirked at him. “Pot meet kettle.” He waved Scott towards the elevator. “Bedtime.”

Scott glared at him for a moment before turning towards the exit. Perhaps he could get his brother to bed and return later.

“And don’t even think about coming back in here before five am. I’ve asked Eos to alert me of your whereabouts should you stray.”

“What?”

“It’s past midnight. Bed.”

“Yes, Mom.” He rolled his eyes, but made his way to the elevator.

Virgil shuffled slowly after him.

-o-o-o-

They almost weren’t allowed into the court.

The moment Scott stepped between the detectors, alarms started screeching. Several guards jumped out of the woodwork and Scott froze, his hands up and open.

Oh, the suits weren’t normal suits. Brains had gotten his hands on them, just like he did with all their clothing. Fortunately for Scott the circuitry was finely woven into the material, virtually invisible and although the alarms complained, eventually they had to let him through or strip him naked.

Considering the case under scrutiny and the reputation of the man involved, they only stripped him of two layers of clothing and wanding him within an inch of his life before capitulating.

Then Virgil set off the alarms, and they had to go through the process all over again.

Except Virgil was injured.

The first wince set Scott on edge, by the third he was ready to punch someone.

“For crying out loud, we aren’t carrying any weaponry.”

“It is procedure, sir.”

Virgil was biting his lip as he shouldered off his jacket. They wouldn’t find anything more on Virgil than they had found on Scott, this was ridiculous.

Not to mention the press filming the entire procedure from the entrance.

Turning away he thumbed the communicator in his collar. “Eos, could you please put me in contact with Colonel Casey.”

“Yes, Scott. Putting you through now.”

Five minutes later, they resumed their stride towards the courtroom to the sound of various apologies.

Scott rested his hand gently on Virgil’s shoulder.

-o-o-o-

Virgil marched him to his bedroom and glared at him until he changed his clothes and slipped into bed.

Somehow this was all backwards.

“Shut up and go to sleep.” His brother stood just inside Scott’s bedroom door, arms wrapped around his chest, putting all his energy into his eyebrows, deploying his frown like a weapon.

Scott threw himself into bed just to shut him up. “Fine. I’m in bed, now will you go to bed?”

“Lights out.”

Scott thumbed the switch, the room falling into darkness, the starlight from the windows only slowly appearing as his eyes adjusted.

Soft. “Goodnight, Scott.”

“Goodnight, Virgil.”

A slither of hallway light and his brother was gone. Scott frowned.

What the hell was that all about?

-o-o-o-

Scott took his seat in the defendant’s position and, to his surprise, Virgil sat next to him.

“What are you doing here?”

Virgil grunted as he got as comfortable as he could in the chair. “If you think you’re going through this by yourself, dream on.” His brother straightened up and stared towards where the judge would eventually appear. “John has Gordon and Alan. I have you.”

Scott blinked and twisted in his chair. Directly behind were his three remaining brothers, lined up in the public gallery, Kayo beside them. Gordon grinned at him.

“Where is he? I know he will be here.” The whiny voice and in waltzed Fischler, a dramatic bandage across his nose. He was followed by an elegantly dressed woman, a dark-haired man with a distracted expression, and a flock of lawyers. Fischler’s half aware eyes roamed over the courtroom until they landed on Scott. They frowned and then skipped to his right and narrowed on Virgil.

Scott frowned. He couldn’t possibly...

“There he is! That’s the guy who flies the green thing. He’s the one who shot down your collectors, Perce.” The man standing next to Fischler latched his eyes onto Virgil as well. Scott had the urge to step in front of his brother yet again. Perce’s lips thinned.

Both men suddenly had their arms grabbed by the woman as their lawyers shuffled past. She dragged the both of them into the public gallery, muttering something Scott couldn’t hear. They planted themselves at the far end of the seating well away from anyone sporting the name ‘Tracy’. Kayo eyed them with a death glare.

Virgil, unable to twist around, didn’t pay them any attention. Scott forced himself to turn around and face the front.

They all stood as the judge walked in.

Scott sighed as he stuck out his arm to help his brother to his feet.

This was going to be a long day.

-o-o-o-

He was thrown out of a deep sleep by the sound of shattering glass.

The clock claimed it was just past three in the morning. Scott blinked the fog out of his brain and hurried out of bed.

The hallway outside his room was only lit by moonlight, but it was enough light for his eyes to sketch out a hunched figure leaning against the wall. A flick of the light switch revealed Virgil huddled almost in two, his face screwed up in pain. Blue glass, the remains of one of Grandma’s vases that had been sitting on the sideboard, was scattered all over the floor.

“Virgil?” The only answer was a muffled groan. Scott grabbed his slippers, threw them on, and stepped lightly over the glass. Cautiously he reached out and touched his brother’s shoulder. “Virgil?”

The man slowly unfolded, a gasping breath pushed out between his teeth. “Uh, s-sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.” He leant his back against the wall, moving ever so slowly and hesitant. He was dressed only in his pyjama bottoms, leaving the strapping of his ribs and the green and yellow fading bruises all over his torso available to see. “Juss needed s’m medication.” He sighed and began slipping down the wall.

Scott caught him as gently as he could, but Virgil still cried out as he took his weight.

His head dropped onto Scott’s shoulder. Panting, and then an exhausted, “Ow.”

“C’mon. Let’s get you horizontal.”

It wasn’t without protest from his idiot brother, but eventually Scott managed to drag him into his own rooms, choosing the shorter distance and higher likelihood of being able to keep an eye on the man. Virgil obviously hadn’t been taking his pain medication correctly and this was the result.

By the time Scott manhandled the larger man into his bed, Virgil was as white as the bed sheets.

Just in case, Scott checked him over, but his vitals only told him the same story his eyes did. “God, you’re an idiot.”

“Had no choice.”

“That is debatable.” Scott pressed his lips together. “I’ll get your medication. Stay put.” His fingers brushed across the back of his brother’s hand.

He came back quickly, but not with the medication Virgil had expected. “Aww, c’mon, S-Scott. You know what that does to me.”

“You need rest. And you’re not going to get it while you are in pain. This will send you to sleep.”

“It will send me stupid.”

“You can’t get much more stupid than you are now. Why the hell did you skip your meds?”

“Didn’t.”

“Well, you’re obviously not suffering from pain relief. What the hell did you do?”

“Minimum dose.”

“Why?”

“Couldn’t be dopey.”

Scott’s lips thinned yet again. He fought off yet another urge to bash Fischler’s face in. Instead he held up the hypodermic. “Well, now you get to make up for it.”

-o-o-o-

Scott Tracy was guilty. He knew he was. It was on the advice of his lawyers that he pleaded the opposite. It was a matter of sentencing. If he was simply guilty, he could go to jail. That was something to be avoided at all costs. International Rescue could operate without him, but the scandal would be seriously damaging. His lawyer had frowned at him so hard, Scott was surprised he hadn’t blown a blood vessel. There was more than just Scott’s record on the line. That single moment of release, of self-imposed justice as his fist hit Fischler’s face, had put International Rescue in the spotlight and not in a good way.

So, a plea of not guilty was entered and a trial forced. The aim to expose Fischler for what he was and reduce the sentencing for Scott. Whether or not it would work remained to be seen.

By the time Fischler had finished his rambling accusation on the stand, Scott was quite ready to change his plea to guilty, just to shut him up. Either that or take another swing at him. When the man started raving about how Virgil had shot down his solar collectors yet again, a large hand landed softly on his arm and squeezed.

Fortunately, the judge drew his tirade to a halt and their defence had the opportunity to cross examine and open the case up to the events leading up the assault.

“Mr Fischler, what was the purpose of your solar collectors?” Their lawyer, Jack Dunning, was a dumpy little man, plump and somewhat balding, but it was all part of his image.

“What do you think? Are you stupid? They collect solar energy. They are called solar collectors after all.”

Dunning ignored the insult. “Then why were the devices mobbing aircraft?”

“There was a slight hitch in their collaborative programming.”

“That slight hitch in their program disabled at least two aircraft.”

“A bit of an accident, that. No one was injured.”

“Much in thanks to International Rescue, I believe.”

“International Rescue was not invited to the testing! They took it upon themselves to turn up and start destroying all my hard work. That man there!” And yes, he stood up and pointed a bony finger at Virgil. “That man took it upon himself to shoot every single collector out of the sky.”

Dunning looked bored. “Have you considered why he would do such a thing?”

“How would I know what he was thinking? There were millions of dollars at stake and he blew it all out of the sky. This could seriously damage Fischler Industries, and it is not the first time he and International Rescue have interfered. Did you know they blew up my comet? I had plans for that, too, you know.”

Scott just stared. Did the man have anything between his ears? The hand on his arm tightened its grip.

Dunning turned to the judge. “Judge, to expedite this trial I would like to request special dispensation to call an extra witness to the stand.”

The judge looked tired. “Who and why?”

“I would like to call Virgil Tracy, the pilot of Thunderbird Two, one of the planes disabled by Mr Fischler’s collectors.”

“This is an assault case, Mr Dunning. We have yet to hear from the assailant. This is not the place to discuss why these experimental devices were shot down.”

“Sir, I believe this is important evidence that will reveal the perspective and the possible reasoning behind the alleged attack.”

The judge had intelligent eyes and Scott found himself holding his breath, both wanting a positive answer and a firm denial. He didn’t want his brother up there under such scrutiny, especially in his condition and with the press foaming at the mouth in the media gallery, but at the same time, it was likely Virgil’s testimony could sway the judge.

Those eyes drifted to Fischler who was still sitting in the witness box with his arms crossed across his chest looking more like a pouting child than a professional scientist.

Scott could see the moment the decision was made. “Permission granted. Mr Fischler, you are dismissed.”

“What?”

“Please step down from the witness box, Mr Fischler.”

“Very well. The sooner this is over the better. My time is expensive, you know.” The man stood and, muttering, stalked back to his seat.

“The court calls Virgil Tracy to the stand.”

-o-o-o-

Scott took a moment to clean up the mess of glass in the corridor after administering Virgil’s medication and give his brother a chance to drop off to sleep without a witness.

He knew why Virgil had done it. He had suspected it during the day, but hadn’t had the chance to corner him and, in part, understood the necessity. But it still hurt to see his brother hurting.

His ribs were healing, but they were tender and movement remained the biggest challenge. The strain of the day and the emotional pressure on taxed resources couldn’t have helped.

All because Scott had let sense be overtaken by emotion.

He sighed as he poured glass into the rubbish.

It wasn’t the first time Virgil had had to pay for his rashness either.

Another sigh and he resisted the urge to kick the trash can.

When he returned to his room, entering quietly, Virgil was exactly where he had left him, hunched under the covers, forehead wrinkled with pain.

He crept around the bed, and gently sat down on the other side.

“I hate you.” It was quiet, muffled and slurred a little.

Scott shucked off his slippers and climbed on top of the covers, laying down beside his brother. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“These damn drugs suck.”

“Yes, Virgil.”

“Everything is wonky.”

“Yes, Virgil.”

“Your bed covers smell like you.”

“Yes, Virgil.”

“You smell like a pineapple.”

“A pineapple?”

“Yes, Scott.”

“Go to sleep, Virgil.”

“Can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“Hurts.”

Scott sighed, wondering if there were any studies that linked medication sensitivity with age regression.

“Give the medication time to do its job.”

“Don’t want medication. Need to be there for you.”

“You were there, Virg. It is over now. You can sleep.”

“Don’t want to sleep.”

“Why?”

“Need to be there for you.”

“You need to sleep.”

“Sleep means dreams.”

Scott’s eyes shot open and he involuntarily turned towards his brother. “What sort of dreams?”

Virgil didn’t answer.

“Virgil? What kind of dreams?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

Scott bit his lip. Technically this could be considered as taking advantage of Virgil’s drugged state. “Virgil?”

“Gotta be there for you.”

“You are.”

“Good.” Virgil shifted slightly and groaned through his teeth. “Can’t lose you.”

“You didn’t. I’m here.”

But the medication had taken hold properly, his brother’s voice dropping to little more than a chanted whisper. “Can’t lose you. Can’t.”

“Virgil-”

“Would rather die.”

-o-o-o-

“Mr Tracy, could you please tell us of the events that led to your arrival at the scene of the rescue.”

Virgil shifted in his seat, obviously not as comfortable as he could be, but his back was straight and he met the lawyer’s eye.

“Yes, sir. A distress call was received from Air Terranean Flight 4586 over Brazil en route to Los Angeles. They reported unidentified objects hounding their flight path. One had disabled an engine and the plane was losing height. They feared another of the objects would damage the plane further.” A pause as his brother swallowed. “As per our protocol for such an incident, both Thunderbirds One and Two were deployed. I pilot Two, while my brother Scott, pilots One. When we arrived-“

The lawyer held up a hand. “Mr Tracy, you said as per protocol. What is the protocol in this situation? Why were both ships needed?”

Virgil’s eyes skipped to Scott for a split second. None of them liked talking about operational procedures in public. “In air rescues involving a plane that has the potential to crash, if possible, at least two craft attend to maximise the chances of saving it. There have been previous situations that have proven this to be the case.”

“But why are two Thunderbirds needed?”

“One craft may need to intercept the cause of the plane’s distress to enable the other to save lives. In this case, Fischler’s devices were the cause, and I am very grateful we did deploy both craft, despite the result.”

“So, one Thunderbird is needed to defend the other?”

“Not always, but yes, it has happened before.” Again, Virgil’s eyes flickered to Scott’s. “Also, air rescue is difficult on the best of occasions. It helps to have back up.”

“What happened on this occasion?”

“When Thunderbird One arrived on the scene AT 4586 had been completely disabled and was on a glide trajectory to crash. TB1 immediately provided flight support.”

He had hit the danger zone at high speed, the yells of the falling plane becoming more and more frantic. Scott had immediately deployed his grapple, securing it to the ship’s fuselage and lifting the craft into a more stable glide, TB1’s thrusters replacing those the plane had lost.

It was at that point John had alerted him to incoming projectiles, and he had had to disengage momentarily to avoid the mob of experimental collectors attracted to his thrusters. It had taken all his skill to dive and dodge the hoard.

“When I arrived on the scene, Thunderbird One was caught between providing assistance to the passenger plane and dodging a mob of small robotic projectiles.”

“Did you know what the projectiles were?”

“By this time, Thunderbird Five had located the cause and identified Fischler.”

“Did his identification have any effect on your reaction to the situation?”

Virgil paused. “Mr Dunning, International Rescue has a long history with Fischler. The man has endangered so many lives, yet he is somehow still operating. He mentioned a comet earlier? That comet had the potential to wipe out the majority of life on Earth, and it did almost do exactly that. So, no, I can’t say it didn’t affect my reaction to the situation.”

There was muttering from the back of the room, but a stern glare from the judge silenced it.

“What did you do upon arrival?”

“Protocol dictated that Thunderbird Two should have taken the weight of the aircraft, reducing Thunderbird One to support, however the moment I entered detection range, the collectors targeted Two’s systems, abandoning One. Scott immediately resumed the rescue and I found myself in some difficulty.” His brother stopped talking a moment and shifted in his seat, the bruises on his face standing out stark against his pale skin.

“Are you okay, Mr Tracy?”

“Fine.” It was short and sharp and obviously a lie. Apparently, Virgil’s oath of truth didn’t extend to his health.

No one in the court commented.

“Why did the collectors target Thunderbird Two?”

“We are unsure.” Brains suspected it was the difference in fuel mix, but had been unable to confirm it as yet.

“What did they do?”

“They were attracted to her thrusters. I had some difficulty avoiding them.”

“Thunderbird One managed.”

“Thunderbird One is not Thunderbird Two.” It was said quite vehemently and Scott couldn’t help but smile just a little. Don’t dis his brother’s ‘bird. But, yes, in this case, TB2 had been at a greater disadvantage. The ship was built for strength, not manoeuvrability, and it had been a major problem. It had only been Virgil’s masterful flying that had prevented Thunderbird Two from being taken down immediately.

“What did you do next?”

“Leaving the danger zone was not an option. That would have left One and the failing plane vulnerable to attack once again. The only options left were to continue to provide the distraction or to remove the threat.” Virgil looked over at Fischler. “And as Fischler has mentioned on several occasions, I chose to remove the threat.”

Scott had to admit, it had been awesome to witness. Two’s laser cutter was not designed as a weapon, but his brother had played it like he played his piano. While Scott concentrated on pulling the ailing plane out of the sky and lowering it to the nearest airfield, Two had darted off into the distance over the sea of trees, her red laser striking out with precision, chunks of burnt and sliced up collector falling from the sky like rain.

“That was millions of dollars of technology you destroyed!” Fischler was standing up in the public gallery shaking his fist at Virgil.

“Mr Fischler, you will sit down and be quiet or you will be charged with contempt.” The judge’s voice cut across the courtroom like a knife.

Fischler looked to say more, but a female hand reached up from behind him and shoved him back down into his seat.

Virgil straightened in his chair and flinched. “Lives were at stake. Cost was irrelevant.”

“What do you think would have happened if you hadn’t destroyed the collectors?”

His brother turned his attention directly to their lawyer. “They would have taken out my ‘bird, my brother’s ‘bird and then moved onto whatever aircraft they could have found. People would have died.”

“So you made the decision to save lives?”

“That is what we do.”

“But you weren’t entirely successful in destroying them all.”

Virgil’s shoulders dropped. “No, one managed to reach Two’s starboard rear thruster and exploded. The thruster was damaged, taking a good percentage of flight control with it.”

“You found yourself in danger of crashing?”

His brother looked up. “Both rear thrusters and VTOL were disabled. Yes, we were going down.”

Virgil had sworn a blue streak across comms. Scott, still caught up in rescuing the airliner had been unable to respond. He had watched as his brother’s ‘bird began her plummet to Earth.

A swallow, another shift in his seat and Virgil’s face paled even further.

“Mr Tracy, if you are unwell, the trial can be postponed.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“You did just survive a plane crash.”

“I’m fine.” It was growled. Stubborn bastard. Scott raised his hand to draw the attention of Dunning, but his brother’s eyes swung around and pinned him to his seat.

Scott lowered his hand.

“I-I did everything I could to prevent my ‘bird from going down, but the explosion had taken out most of her systems. Scott flew over to assist. He took the controls - “

“Your brother boarded a crashing plane.”

Virgil faltered. “Uh, yes, I-I asked him, too.”

“What of the airliner?”

“Thunderbird Five took control of Thunderbird One.”

“Why didn’t he take control of Two?”

“Auto-relay systems were shorted. I was on manual only.”

“So, Scott boarded your plane at the risk of his own life?”

Virgil’s mouth was open, nothing was coming out.

“Mr Tracy?”

A cleared throat. “Yes, I asked him to risk his life.”

“Scott!” It was a hissed whisper from behind. John. “Sit down!” And yes, he was halfway to his feet. His butt hit the cushion and shook his teeth.

“Mr Tracy, it is the nature of your work that your lives may be risked at any time, is it not?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

“How many times have they been risked because of idiocy?”

“Objection!” The other lawyer bounced to his feet.

The judge eyed the man a moment before sighing. “Sustained. Please, Mr Dunning, restrict yourself to the specified events.”

“Very well.” He turned back to Virgil. “Scott boarded Thunderbird Two...”

His brother blinked and straightened again. “Yes, he was able to take control of the flight while I attempted to repair ship systems to halt our descent.”

“You were not successful?”

“Unfortunately, no, though I did manage to mitigate damages by restoring two of her VTOL thrusters. They slowed us enough to stabilise the landing somewhat.”

“But there were still injuries?”

“Thunderbird Two is out of commission for the foreseeable future, Scott sustained a major concussion, and I, well...” He shrugged and winced. “...have seen better days.”

“In fact, you have a fractured skull, six broken ribs and a broken arm, do you not?”

“And assorted bruises, yes.” Virgil glared at the man, not a fan of having his vulnerabilities paraded. Scott rolled his eyes.

“All because of Fischler.”

“Objection! My client is not on trial here!”

Dunning turned around and glared. “I beg to differ. These men risk their lives to save others on a daily basis and your client continues to endanger more and more lives. This is a proven fact.”

“Nothing has been proven...”

“The comet that nearly collided with not only a space station but the planet as well was proof enough. Did you know that three of these brothers, including Virgil sitting right here, nearly died in that incident, too?”

“That is not relevant-“

“I never asked them to interfere!” And Fischler was on his feet again.

A gavel hit wood hard. “Gentlemen!”

The sudden silence in the room was only broken by a mutter from Fischler as he was once again dragged back onto his seat by the woman behind him.

“Mr Dunning, I repeat, please restrict your comments to the current incident.” The judge’s glare targeted the back of the room. “Mr Fischler, keep quiet or you will be expelled.”

Scott only had eyes for his brother. Virgil was literally sagging in his seat. Apparently, the judge had noticed. “Mr Tracy, thank you for your testimony. We will take a fifteen-minute recess. Please take a moment to rest. There is a room down the hall.” The judge waved a court officer over.

Scott was on his feet without thinking, his own court officer trailing him. “Virgil!”

Brown eyes caught his, but the hand of the court came down on his arm and he was held back.

They led Virgil away.

-o-o-o-

“Would rather die.”

The words were barely there, whispered, slurred into the pillow, but they leapt up and tore at Scott’s heart.

“Virgil, no.” He levered himself up onto his elbow, wishing his brother wasn’t turned away from him, wasn’t hidden by the darkness.

Damnit! He sat up, reached over and flicked the light switch, flooding the room with its yellow glow.

“Aah, what the hell, Scott?” His brother lifted up his wrapped arm and rolled onto his back, wincing. “Whatcha do tha’ for?” He blinked repeatedly, tired eyes in a tired, bruised face.

“You can’t mean that.”

“Mean what?” The blinking had slowed, the eyes bleary.

“That you would rather die.”

“Die? Everybody dies.”

Scott closed his eyes. What was he thinking? Virgil was off his face, this was not the time for a serious discussion.

“Everybody dies.” It was an echo, a repeat of the words he had said a moment before. “Mom. Dad. You.”

A frown. “I’m not dead, Virgil.”

“Yes, you are.”

A chill crawled up his spine. “Virgil, what do you mean?”

But his brother’s eyes were closed, his brow wrinkled. “Can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Would rather die.” And his brother was drifting off to sleep.

He couldn’t help himself. He knew Virgil would deny everything come the light of day. He had to know. He reached out and touched his brother’s cheek. “Virgil, why? Why would you rather die?”

Brown eyes blearily opened and stared at him. “Can’t lose you. You’re the only one left.”

Scott blinked, attempting to decipher what Virgil meant. The only one what? “Virgil?”

“Please don’t leave me, Scott. I can’t-“ And there was an edge of panic in Virgil’s voice, his injured arm reaching out to grab him.

What the hell? “Virg, it’s okay. I’m not leaving.” Was this a direct line to his brother’s insecurities? “I’m here.”

His brother’s fingers desperately attempted to get a grip on Scott’s pyjamas, but the cast wouldn’t let him make a proper fist. “Scott, please.”

He grabbed Virgil’s hand and held it tight, reaching over to run his fingers through the man’s hair. It took a moment, but finally Virgil sagged into the bed, a shaky breath escaping between his teeth.

Scott bit his lip, but continued to comb his brother’s hair, long enough for the man to eventually slip into an uneasy sleep.

His heart was thudding hard against the inside of his chest.

When Scott turned off the light, he lay in the dark staring up at the ceiling.

Sleep would not come.

-o-o-o-

“I am Cyril Packham, Mr Tracy, the attorney for the prosecution.”

Virgil nodded. Scott resisted the urge to snort. They knew the man’s name, his history, the fact he had two children, a wife, a girlfriend and some interesting commitments in Indonesia. Penelope was quite thorough.

Gordon sat behind his older brother this time as witness support. John had sent him to Virgil during the break to check on him and the aquanaut appeared to have chained himself to the man. The glare that was emanating off Gordon in the direction of the prosecutor was enough to light Packham’s hair on fire. Scott hoped he didn’t end up having to bail his second littlest brother out of jail today.

“Your attorney appears to believe that these events have pertinence to the assault that occurred the next day at the hospital. So, let’s review those events.”

Virgil didn’t react.

Gordon upped his temperature just slightly.

“Did you at any time during these events contact Mr Fischler and advise him of the situation.”

“No, I did not.”

“Then how could you possibly blame him for a situation he was not aware of?”

“I didn’t contact him. That wasn’t my place. Thunderbird Five, my brother, John Tracy, spoke to him repeatedly. He asked him to withdraw the collectors. He asked him to turn them off. He gave him a video feed of exactly what was happening above. The man could see what was happening from where he was standing! And he didn’t do a thing!”

“I did too!”

“Mr Fischler!”

“I told them to get the hell out of my sky. They were interfering. It was their fault the collectors did what they did, and then they destroyed them! It was their fault!”

“Mr Fischler, you are in contempt!”

“Yes, I am. In contempt of these self-righteous idiots. Everyone thinks they are so wonderful. Yet how many times have they screwed up an honest man’s work? How many times-“ But a hand landed on his shoulder and he shut up suddenly, the burly court official forcing him to sit down and handcuffing him to the railing in front of him.

The judge was glaring. “You will stay there and stay silent, Mr Fischler, for the remainder of these proceedings. Another word out of you and you will be escorted to a holding cell.”

Fischler opened his mouth.

The judge raised his gavel.

Fischler closed his mouth.

Maybe he did have some kind of sense in there after all. Scott rolled his shoulders attempting to relieve the tension.

“Mr Tracy, perhaps you can clarify your decision to destroy the collectors.”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you just lead them away?”

“Where? Wherever I led them, they would cause havoc and endanger lives.”

“Couldn’t you have drawn them away from the airliner?”

Virgil stared at him as if he was an idiot. “I did, and, despite everything, they crippled Thunderbird Two. Do you have any concept of exactly how hard that is to do?”

“No. Please explain.”

Scott bit his lip and Virgil clammed up. “No, that is not necessary.”

“Perhaps your crash had nothing to do with the collectors, perhaps your ship malfunctioned.”

Oh, shit.

And fire lit up amongst the bruises on his brother’s face. “Are you aware of my qualifications, Mr Peckem?”

“It’s Packham. And yes, you are a graduate of Denver College of Advanced Technology, are you not?”

“I am a fully qualified engineer, pilot and the mechanic of Thunderbird Two. I know EXACTLY what my ship is capable of. I know her inside and out. I know her very soul. She did not malfunction.”

“Then why did she crash?”

The arm with the cast wrapped around it shot out, pointing in the direction of Fischler. Scott didn’t miss his brother’s flinch at the movement, but he was obviously too angry to care. “Because that man had the audacity to combine energy collecting ware, a poorly designed AI matrix with no safety overrides or shutdown codes, and explosive massive-storage. It tore off one of her rear thrusters and disabled the other, sending electrical feedback through her system that took out VTOL along with other vital systems. If she had been any other ship, she could have exploded mid-air killing me and anyone in a several hundred meter radius.”

“How do you know so much about the solar collectors?”

Virgil froze. “What?!”

“The solar collectors are proprietary designs and their specifics are not available for public information.”

“Uh...”

“Are you trying to steal information from Fischler Industries, Mr Tracy?”

Virgil stared at him for a moment, wide eyed. Then he burst out laughing. “Ow, ow, oh god.” And he was clutching his rib cage, leaning against the edge of the witness box. “Please, please don’t make me laugh. It hurts so bad.”

“It wasn’t a joke, Mr Tracy.”

“Yes, it was.” His head came up and caught the man’s eyes. “What possible reason could I have to want to steal Fischler’s inventions? They are poorly designed and, in most cases, downright dangerous.”

“But how do you know so much detail about them, Mr Tracy?”

“Because I need to know what the hell is trying to kill me. The first time we encountered Fischler, he crippled Thunderbird Two above a hurricane. It was only luck and the skill of my brother, Gordon, that saved me that time. I don’t need to be taught twice. I’ve been as prepared as possible since.”

“But how do you obtain this information?”

“Objection!” Dunning shot to his feet. “Mr Tracy is not on trial here and this is not relevant to the case.”

‘I beg to differ. Mr Tracy is on trial here and the trustworthiness of International Rescue is key to this case.”

“A petty play on words, Packham.”

“Gentlemen.” The two lawyers continued to glare at each other. “Objection overruled.” The judge turned to Virgil. “Please answer the question, Mr Tracy.”

Scott swallowed. This could get them into some serious shit.

Virgil looked up, his face calm, his tone firm. “I will do what is necessary to save a life, Mr Peckem.”

“Including breaking the law.”

“Only if necessary.”

“Is that what you did with Mr Fischler’s technology?”

“That remains to be seen.”

“What do you mean?”

“Is it within the law to launch two hundred bombs into a flight zone?”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t really think a flying solar panel could take down a 400 tonne Thunderbird all by itself, do you? Each of those collectors had the storage capacity of a small nuclear bomb. Fortunately, when we encountered the flock, they were only partially charged, but still able to deliver a considerable payload upon ignition. They were attracted to specific types of energy sources, other than the sun. In fact, rather than an ecological energy solution, I would consider them to be more in the line of weapons development. You asked me earlier why I didn’t lead them away. Would you like me to lead them into your backyard?”

“Mr Tracy-“

“I learn what I need to know to save lives, Mr Peckem. That is all that you need to know.”

Virgil was covering for John. He was wording everything precisely, taking any and all credit or blame onto his shoulders while skimming between fact and fiction. It was a dangerous game. Scott bit his lip.

“So you refuse to answer the question.”

“I have answered as truthfully as I can.” A sharp indrawn breath.

“You look pale, Mr Tracy.”

“I have six broken ribs, Mr Peckem, would you like to count them?”

Dunning stood up. “Sir, Mr Packham is wasting time and gaining no further information, I ask that we move onto our next witness.”

The judge sat quietly for a moment, his eyes on Virgil, who by this point looked about ready to faint. For a moment, they skipped to Scott who was on the edge of his seat, then darted back to the two lawyers who remained glaring at each other.

“The witness is excused.”

Virgil sagged where he sat, Gordon hurried in to help as he struggled to his feet. To Scott’s surprise, Virgil actually leant on Gordon. Damn, the man must be hurting bad.

By the time the two of them reached Scott, Virgil was visibly trembling.

“Mr Tracy.” Five heads bobbed up. The judge didn’t quite roll his eyes. “Mr Virgil Tracy, you are excused if you need to leave the court.”

Standing beside Scott, half leaning on Gordon, his brother straightened as much as he could. “I-I need to stay, sir. I have some medication. I will be fine.”

The judge assessed him for a moment. “Very well. Proceed.”

Virgil lowered himself ever so slowly into the chair beside Scott. “Please, Virgil, you’ve done enough, go back to the hotel.” Gordon hovered until a court official directed him back to his seat in the public gallery.

“No, I’m staying here.” Virgil drew out a bottle of pills from his suit pocket. “This is more important.”

“Damnit, Virgil!”

“The court calls Scott Tracy to the stand.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil was fortunately still asleep when Scott finally cracked and climbed quietly out of bed at just after five in the morning. Grabbing his jogging gear, he took a moment to check on his brother. In the dim light he was breathing softly, once again lying on his less injured side, broken arm wrapped around his waist on top of the covers.

His hair was flopping into his eyes.

Scott sighed to himself, turned, grabbed his running shoes and slipped out of the room into the predawn. He got dressed in one of the bathrooms, and after a drink of water in the kitchen, set out on his morning run.

The sun was just beyond the horizon, reflected light the only light in the sky. He lost himself in the beat of his soles on the gravel of the path.

Thud, thud, thud.

A seabird screeched far above him.

A cool sea breeze caressed his heating skin, playing with his hair.

He tried not to think.

Tried not to think of the smug look on Fischler’s mug. The snarl of fury from Fischler’s brother. The frustration on Dunning’s face.

The pain on Virgil’s.

An exhausted huff of breath out of pace with his tread.

All because he let himself go for one moment and hit that stupid bastard.

How was it fair? He did so much for the world. Couldn’t it have forgiven him for this one mistake?

Apparently not.

It wasn’t the trial. It was what it put his brother through. And the stupid, stubborn bastard wouldn’t back down.

It was love, he knew that. He, in turn, would do anything for Virgil, or any of his brothers, but watching him push the limits...

Picking him off the floor of the corridor at three in the morning.

Damnit!

He stopped in the middle of the path overwhelmed by the urge to hit or kick something.

But then that is what had started all this.

He forced his legs to start moving again as the sun finally peeked over the horizon, catching his face in its warm embrace.

-o-o-o-

“Mr Tracy, could you please tell us what happened leading up to the incident in question.”

Scott shifted in the witness chair, now understanding why his brother had moved so often in the seat despite his injuries. “I was admitted to hospital due to my concussion-“

Mr Dunning interrupted him. “This was the concussion sustained while attempting to save your brother’s life?”

Scott’s gaze flicked to Virgil for a split second before he answered. “Yes, I received it in the crash.”

“You were knocked unconscious?”

“Yes.”

“But when your brothers found you, you and Virgil were quite a distance away from the craft weren’t you?”

Huh? How was this relevant? But Dunning’s eyes were boring into him, directing him to answer.

“Uh, Virgil pulled me out.”

“Your brother, Virgil, the one with the broken arm, broken ribs and skull fracture? Here sitting in this room?”

“Yes.”

“Objection! How is this relevant to the case?”

Dunning turned around to face Packham. “It is very relevant for us to consider the personalities involved in this case. Mr Scott Tracy was dragged from the downed plane by Mr Virgil Tracy. He was barely conscious, but despite Mr Virgil Tracy’s injuries, he still managed to drag his brother two hundred metres into the jungle.”

“I still don’t see the relevance.”

“That is obvious. These men are heroes, Packham. They make life and death decisions on a daily basis. What I am trying to demonstrate is the thought processes involved.”

“Virgil Tracy isn’t on trial here.”

The judge spoke up again. “Gentlemen, I believe the court has been very patient with these demonstrations, so please make your point Mr Dunning.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sit down, Mr Packham.”

The lawyer returned to his assigned position, but not without a mutter.

“Mr Tracy, what happened at the hospital?”

“I was there for about twenty-four hours before I was well enough to get out of bed. Virgil and I were in separate rooms, so as soon as I could, I went to see him. I ran into Fischler in the hallway outside of Virgil’s room. He asked after my brother and made it very clear that he blamed him for the destruction of his collectors, and that he wanted to give Virgil ‘a piece of his mind’. Virgil was badly injured and it was the last thing he needed.” He swallowed. Here came the hard part. “So I stood in his way.”

“How did Mr Fischler react to you protecting your brother?”

“Not well. He became insulting.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Not good. I was worried about my brother, and quite frustrated by the man’s attitude. After all, we had just saved his life for the fourth time.” He frowned. Or was it the fifth? “We don’t expect gratitude as operatives of International Rescue, but a little respect wouldn’t hurt.”

“Respect?! I deserve respect, you charlatan!”

“Mr Fischler!” The judge roared at the man and he shrunk back into his seat.

Dunning ignored the byplay. “You saved Mr Fischler’s life as well?”

“That airliner was projected to land on top of the man if we hadn’t intervened.”

“Did Mr Fischler reach your brother?”

Scott looked down, knowing his brother was staring at him wide-eyed. “No, he did not.”

“Why?”

“I stopped him.”

“How?”

“I hit him.”

The room fell to silence.

“Mr Tracy.” The judges’ face was grave. “Did you want to change your plea?”

Mr Dunning held up his hand. “Before he answers, sir, I would like to ask one more question.”

The judge frowned at him, but with a sigh, nodded.

“Scott, do you know why Mr Fischler was in the hospital in the first place?”

Scott blinked. It hadn’t occurred to him. “I don’t know.” But as he thought about it, his suspicions grew and his eyes widened. “He wanted to see Virgil. He was there for the sole purpose of seeing Virgil.” His eyes swung to the man at the back of the room. “What did you want with my brother?”

The man actually snarled. “I wanted him to pay for what he did.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil was gone from Scott’s rooms when he returned, his bed tidily made.

Scott sighed and threw himself into the shower, washing more than the sweat from his body. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror and wiped fog from the glass. The man who peered back at him felt older than he looked, blue eyes worried and not a little stained with guilt.

Man, he needed to talk with his brother.

He scrubbed his face with a towel.

Breakfast was Virgil-less, but that was nothing unusual, the man slept in if he could. Gordon eyed Scott as he toasted a bagel, questions in those eyes so similar to his brother’s. Scott didn’t answer any of them.

Grandma wandered past at one point, dropping her hand onto his shoulder. “Is he okay?”

“As best he can be, I guess.”

She kissed his hair. “Let me know if he needs anything.”

Scott raised an eyebrow. Grandma was never one to stand back when any of her boys needed anything, particularly Virgil. Scott wasn’t above admitting that his Grandma had a soft spot for his artistic brother, knowing that it didn’t make her care any less for her other grandsons...and it got him out of the shopping on many an occasion. Virg and his grandmother were well suited to each other and got on very well.

Why was she caring for him via Scott?

“And don’t worry about the vase. I didn’t like it anyway.”

He blinked. “Okay.”

“What vase?” Alan waltzed into the room. “Bagels again? Aww, John’s not even dirtside.”

Most of the day passed without a peep from Virgil. Scott went through the papers he needed and filed what he had to with the lawyers. Dunning’s hologram still sported a frown, this time topped off by a glare. “Hey, this time it wasn’t my fault.”

“Sure, Scott.” And the lawyer had the audacity to sign off without saying goodbye.

The commander rolled his eyes and with a flick of a finger threw the man a sizeable bonus. The note scrawled beside it said, ‘For the grey hairs, Scott’.

A note came back immediately. ‘Kind of you, but really just keep you and your brothers safe, Jack’.

Scott sighed. I’m trying, Jack, really.

And then Scott discovered the report that had come with the note.

At about five o’clock in the afternoon, a stiff and half-dressed Virgil staggered into the comms room, heading towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Virg, how you feeling?” Gordon never was one to read the warning signs. Or he did and just chose to ignore them.

Scott looked up from the desk. Virgil didn’t really acknowledge either of them, just grunted and kept moving step by step. Obviously, he hadn’t taken his morning dose yet, coffee or heavy painkillers.

The trip down the stairs must have been fun.

“Virgil, for goodness sake, sit down. I’ll go get your coffee and your pills.” Gordon said it before Scott could open his mouth.

His brother’s shoulders sagged and he let the nearest wall take his weight. Gordon was up and beside him in a flash, such a contrast to the injured man. “C’mon, Virg, no need to be the hero today. Sit down and put your feet up.”

The glare Virgil sent his younger brother was half-hearted and almost fond. He looked down at the hand on his arm and capitulated. He was surprisingly docile as Gordon led him over to the sofa. The stairs down into the sunken lounge were conquered and Virgil lowered himself slowly onto the nearest couch.

“Now was that black with six sugars or white with seven?”

“Gordon.”

“Okay, okay, just going for that smile. I guess I should know better to attempt it before your twenty-sugar coffee.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Gords, please.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” And he went.

Leaving Virgil staring up at Scott.

The eldest brother lifted his chin a little. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. I still hate you.”

“Again with the hate, Virg, really?”

“So, did you enjoy listening to me waffle about fairies and pixies? Or did I sing the entirety of Gilbert and Sullivan this time?”

“None of the above.” Scott sighed. He was doing that a lot lately. “Do you really think I care what you do when under the influence of necessary medication, Virgil? You were in pain. something you put yourself through for me, incidentally. Do you really think I would find it funny?”

Virgil looked away. “Gordon would.”

“No, he wouldn’t, and you know it.” Scott stood up and walked around the desk, stepping down into the sunken lounge to take a seat opposite his brother. “You have no reason to be embarrassed at all.”

“Easy for you to say, all you ever do is fall asleep.”

“Virgil.”

“What?”

Gordon bounded up the stairs, coffee in one hand and a bottle of pills in the other. He had a water bottle under one arm. “Here you go, oh great wounded hero.”

“Shut up, Gordon.” The coffee floated into the man’s hand like magic and was immediately being poured into his face, no doubt as black and as sugarless as it could be. “Oh, god, thank you.” The moan was almost obscene. But then Virgil’s relationship with coffee was more powerful than anything lust could provide. “Perfect.” His eyes were closed and there was an actual half-smile on the man’s face. Scott rolled his eyes towards Gordon who was sporting a goofy grin.

“Don’t forget your pills.”

“Coffee first.”

“The two of you may need to get a room.” A smirk. “And I’m not referring to Scott in this relationship.”

“Thank you, Gordon. Now leave me and my coffee in peace.”

“Yesssh, massster.”

“Oh, god.”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving.” He eyed Scott, and for just a moment all humour vanished from his expression. He frowned, his eyes darting in Virgil’s direction. Scott acknowledged him with a twist of his lips. His brother turned and yelled towards the stairs. “Hey, Alan, I’m hungry, wanna come with me and Grandma to the mainland for some Italian?”

There was a resounding ‘yes!’ from the lower floor as Gordon waltzed out.

Virgil didn’t appear to have noticed, still worshipping his coffee.

“Aren’t you going to go with them?” Those brown eyes were questioning him. Obviously, Virgil was more aware than he appeared.

“No, they’ll bring back takeaway. Brains is still in his lab and needs to surface sometime.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What did you want to talk about without the others around?”

Scott stared at him. “Take your medication, Virgil.”

The coffee cup was lowered to the side table quietly.

The pills were ignored.

“What’s going on, Scott?”

-o-o-o-

“Mr Tracy, you have changed your plea to guilty.”

Scott stood up and faced the judge. “Yes, sir.”

“Do you believe that you are guilty of assaulting Mr Langstrom Fischler?” The same Fischler who was now holed up in the building’s lock up.

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you believe you deserve punishment?”

In the corner of his eye, Jack Dunning shot to his feet, but he was unable to say anything procedurally.

Scott swallowed, but held his perfect military stance. “No, sir.”

“Why?”

He drew in a breath. “What I did was wrong, sir. It was a moment of emotional release that I should not have allowed myself. However, no punishment you could give me would equate to what punishment today has been.”

“Explain.”

He couldn’t help but glance in Virgil’s direction. His brother’s eyes were wide. “I have had to watch my brother suffer through his injuries today to support me. I wish no more than to protect him and never have I failed so badly. Honestly, sir, you could not do worse.”

The judge stared at him.

“I could take that as a dare, young man.” Scott’s future hung in the balance. “But I agree.” His stomach dropped. “It was a stressful situation, you were injured and little damage was done, and, I say to this court, the world was possibly improved.” There was a gasp from the back of the room.

“Mr Scott Tracy, you are ordered to pay any medical bills associated with Mr Fischler’s nose bleed and his court costs.”

There was silence.

“This case is closed.” The gavel dropped.

-o-o-o-

“They have discovered that Fischler was indeed building weapons. The GDF have moved in on several depots and seized various weapons. Langstrom and Perce are imprisoned, however his sister is missing. Apparently, she was the mastermind of it all.” Scott shrugged. “Which is not hard to believe considering the lack of mind in the rest of the family.”

“Missing? You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m afraid not. I’m sorry.” He stood and hurried over to sit beside Virgil. “You don’t need to worry. Kayo is out there already. Penny’s on it. They will find her.”

Virgil rubbed his face. “I’m not worried, Scott. I’m just tired.”

Scott sat back a little. “Understandable. Take your medication.”

“Yes, Mom.” But Virgil didn’t move. “This doesn’t affect our operations, you know.”

Scott straightened. “It should.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Virgil-“

“Scott, no one is going to die because of those bastards, you hear me?” And Virgil was in his face.

“No-one.”

-o-o-o-

The Tracys left the courthouse amongst another flock of holocams and rude questions. There was no arrowhead this time, simply a huddle of brothers around Virgil hunched in the middle. A car was ordered to the front door and Kayo stormed through the press wielding her hostile expression like a weapon.

Scott helped Virgil into the car, wincing himself at the man’s pained gasps. He set him up between himself and Gordon. John, Alan and Kayo sat opposite. By the time the car started moving, Virgil was already falling against Scott’s shoulder, taking the pressure off his injured right side.

With Scott free to go, it was decided that they would pick up their belongings and head home immediately. Scott stayed in the car with Virgil while John supervised their rooms and luggage. Fifteen to twenty minutes after arriving at the hotel, they were packed and heading to the airport and Tracy Two.

Virgil was asleep on Scott’s shoulder.

Three blocks out from the airport, a car ran a red light and barrelled into the front fender of the limo, throwing it into oncoming traffic.

-o-o-o-

“Get out of the car.”

Scott blinked, momentarily confused. What?

“I said get out of the car!”

And the screaming registered. There were people screaming. His head kicked into gear.

Emergency. Respond.

A gun was stuck through the window pointing at him. He frowned. No, pointing at Virgil.

“I said, get out of the damned car!”

His brother was moving slowly, looking as dazed as Scott felt. Scott stepped in front of him, pushing the door open and climbing out first. He shut it behind him and blocked its access, preventing his brother from emerging. The limo lay in a mess of stalled traffic, its front end mangled by a sedan.

The man holding the gun was Perce Fischler, Langstrom Fischler’s brother.

“What do you want?”

“I want your brother.” It was snarled and spat.

“Why?”

“Because of what he has done.”

“What has he done?”

“He has ruined everything.” The man shot crazed eyes at Scott. “You’ve ruined everything.” The gun rose.

And was suddenly airborne, a blur of blue grey IR uniform in its place. There was a yelp and Kayo had him on the ground, her knee in his back. She whispered in his ear. “You think my brothers caused trouble, you have no idea what I could do to you.” A couple of cable ties disabled the man and Kayo stood over him, obviously restraining herself from physically injuring him further.

Brothers? And Scott was flinging open the car door. Virgil collapsed into his arms yelling at him. John was clambering over the hood of the car, Gordon was yelling for assistance for the driver, and suddenly Alan was beside Kayo asking her if she was alright.

“Scott, are you okay?” Virgil was struggling to stand up.

“I think I hit my head again.”

“Damn. C’mere.” And Virgil was reaching for him. There were sirens, more yelling, more questions. He was so damned tired of all of it.

Virgil was yelling at someone.

He just wanted to go home.

Things became clearer as time passed. By the time Alan took the controls of Tracy Two, apparently after Virgil had yelled at enough people, reality was beginning to reassert itself.

“Is everyone okay?”

“Oh, the dazed prince awakes.”

“Shut up, Gordon.” Virgil reached over and touched his arm. “Everyone is fine. You were the only injury, bar a few bruises for the driver. How are you feeling?”

Scott blinked. “Better. Things were a little fuzzy for a bit there.”

“It’s only a mild concussion. I figured you would want to make it home tonight.”

“You figured correctly.” The plane turned and began its descent.

“Tracy Airways asks you to fasten your seatbelts for landing.” Alan’s voice was full of forced cheerfulness.

-o-o-o-

There was silence in the room for several moments.

“Are you going to take your medication?”

“Are you going to stop nagging me?”

“Only if you take your medication.”

“Fine.” Virgil poured a couple of pills into his palm and threw them into his mouth, downing them with a gulp of water. “There, done. Happy?”

“I’ll be happy when you can move without flinching.”

Virgil sighed. “I’m okay, Scott.”

“No, you’re not. Take your damned medication and keep me sane, please.”

His brother didn’t respond, but there was a touch of guilt in his eyes.

Scott’s shoulders slumped. “Hell of a day yesterday.”

Brown eyes caught his. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It was necessary.”

“No, it was stupid. If I hadn’t hit the idiot, you could have stayed in bed for the day.”

“If you hadn’t hit the idiot, he wouldn’t have gotten what was coming to him.”

Scott shrugged. “It’s just that you had to pay the price.” He looked up and caught Virgil’s eyes. “I am so sorry.”

His brother looked away a moment. “I’d do far more if necessary, Scott, you know that. What you said to the judge...I do appreciate it.” He paused. “Just one thing. Perhaps think before you act a little more in the future?” Quietly. “This isn’t the first time.”

Scott swallowed. “I know.”

Silence fell again.

“Virgil.”

His brother looked up at him in query, his brow furrowing. “Yes?”

“You said some things last night.”

“Oh, goddamnit! I knew it! Did I propose? Disclose my deepest fears? What the hell did I say this time?”

Scott swallowed. “More the second of the two.”

A blink. “I what?”

“You appeared to be afraid of losing me.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not going anywhere, you know.”

Virgil didn’t answer.

“And if I did, you would make a brilliant commander of International Rescue.”

His brother stood up with a groan and turned away. “Not going to happen.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Virg-“

“No, Scott. I know the drugs give all and sundry access to both my soul and my stupidity, but that doesn’t mean I have to bare it willingly.” He slowly made his way up the steps out of the lounge.

Scott shot to his feet and followed, placing his hand on his brother’s uninjured arm. “Please, Virgil, if not to me, talk to someone.”

The injured man turned awkwardly to face him. “What the hell did I say to you?” He frowned. “You’re scared.”

“I’m worried.”

Virgil took a step towards him. “No, you’re scared, Scott. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I’m worried about you. Promise me you will talk to someone.”

“I will. You know I do.” And he did know. Virgil treated his mental health seriously, just like he did the rest of his body. Perhaps yesterday was just the result of circumstances.

Regardless, Scott gently wrapped his arms around his brother and embraced him. “Look after yourself.” He tightened his arms just slightly. “And thank you so much for being my brother.”

Virgil returned the hug awkwardly. “Scott, are you okay?”

Scott dropped his forehead onto Virgil’s shoulder, “Couldn’t be better.”

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #scott tracy #virgil tracy

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