#when you spend all your effort colouring in wings and the actual characters are just blobs lol

[katatonicimpression]

Two angels in flight:

[amara-scott]

Enjoy your dinner.

Movie: The Gentlemen Characters: Raymond Smith x Reader Categories: Teasing

you’re reading part one | part two

Takes place a few weeks before the movie timeline.

...

3rd Person P.O.V.:

Her father knew very well that she did not enjoy these kinds of events. Richlings bragging about their richness to other fat cats. Not to mention the young ones. The ones her age, who did not have to flip a coin to get any of the wealth their parents owned. Dirty or good money, does not matter. It is more dirty than anything else though. And she knew that also. Another reason for her to usually not stay longer than needed.

It has been a while since her father has last asked her to join him and her mother to a dinner party. It was way more just a synonym for let’s see who will embarrass themselves first by drinking too much of the way too expensive bottle of rum. Long translation - but a hundred percent correct. 

And even though she loathed going, she always used the opportunity to make the largest impact possible without trying to say a word. She loved the longing stares and the surprised ones every time she did indeed attend alongside her parents. Today it was just her father though. Her mother was out in Paris, probably spending all the pocket money her loving husband gave her. At least their love for each other seemed honest.

(Y/N) P.O.V.:

When I walk down the stairs to stop in front of a mirror in my hallway, I hear another honk of the limousine waiting outside. I sigh, grabbing a light coat and throwing that over my arm, holding a small clutch in my hand. After locking the door behind me, I greet Mitch with a smile.

“ ’Ello Miss (Y/L/N), hope you are doing well today.” I hold back a roll of my eyes, long forgotten how many times I made him call me by my first name. If I had to guess, probably around 64 times. He doesn’t work for me, he works for my father and my father alone. 

“Very well indeed, how about you, Mitch?” He smiles, about to answer, when a voice from inside the car calls out.

“-You can chat on the way there, we’re late as it is.” Now I do roll my eyes at my fathers words and send Mitch another small smile. He nods, closing the door when I’m in, going back to the drivers seat.

“Wow, darlin’, you look lovely tonight.” I greet him with a kiss to each cheek and buckle up.

“Thank you, is that a new suit? I’ve never seen you wear burgundy red.” He nods, smoothing out the fabric. 

“It is, it is. You’re a smart one. I despised the colour but your mother thinks it looks expensive and high-class. And you know her- there’s no telling her no.” I chuckle along and we get a few small-talk questions out the way before we finally arrive at the mansion. Some old business partner of my father’s. I can’t keep names in mind so I usually go the shy and long time no see route. It usually works.

My father helps me step outside and Mitch rides off, picking us up later again. Before walking after my father I take a deep breath and exhale, placing a smile onto my face. Fake- but no one seemed to notice the last few times. So no worries there. Walking up the stairs, an arm wraps around mine and I glance up to my right, frowning at the sudden physical contact. James. Yes, the one person I loathed the least. Or you could say - who I actually liked a bit. I grin and bump my shoulder with his as he guides me up to the entrance.

“Hello there gorgeous lady, haven’t seen you around a lot lately.” 

“Well, can you blame me? These types of gatherings do not amuse me much. They rather support my boredom and make me want to drown in expensive alcohol. I don’t want to turn into an alcoholic.” He smirks at my statement but shakes his head. 

“You’re a special one, you know that?” I nod, sighing dramatically. I look up front, where my father is already involved with other suit-wearing snobs.

“I know- I am.” I try sounding posh, but fail miserably, making us both laugh. I still have my arm wrapped around his’ as we get offered a drink and then he is off. Talking business, making connections. A life I would not want to live. That is why James and me could never be more than friends. Even though he might wants change my mind on that one day - I would never accept his advances.

“Well, well, well. If it is not little Miss (Y/L/N) Junior. How are things going?” I turn, taking another sip of champagne as I recognise the slimy man in front of me. His eyes wandering up and down my presence. 

“Oscar- what a nice surprise-” My fake smile widens and I let him kiss my knuckles briefly - even though some of the potatoes I had for lunch earlier wanted to revisit. He must be double my age - I never thought of that. 50 at least.

“Would not be that much of a surprise to you if you would join our parties more often.” So it is his housing we are inside of right now. Good to know...

“Oh, Oscar. You know I am a busy woman. Cannot have fun all the time.” My smile starts to hurt my cheeks but I keep it up. Having held it for longer. My record is 24 minutes and 37 seconds. Yes, I know. Very impressive.

“But you never fail to make a grand entrance, what a gown on you - just lovely. Perfectly fitting for you, an extraordinary woman.” His sickly, slimy words feel like nails scratching on a chalk board but I hold back a flinch, nodding once. Not quite sure how to reply. I glance down at my drink, assumingly and very unconsciously having drank it all.

“Oh, would you look at that- I think I need a refill, it was lovely chatting-” “-Let me get you a new one.”

“No need, Oscar. I will just go myself.” 

“Oh please, I insist-”

“-Here, take mine. I don’t drink Champagne.” I turn to my right, looking at the source of the new voice. A man I have not seen before stands there - a neat three piece in dark blue, adoring his well shaped physique. His dirty blonde hair combed back to perfection. He rearranges his glasses with his free hand before it disappears in the pocket of his trousers. The other one still holding out the glass to me. I realise I held a breath and nod at him, this time smiling genuinely. 

“Thank you-” I drift off, not taking my eyes off his. A little staring contest going on. I accept the drink and take a sip. Not having blinked once. Just like him.

“-Raymond. Raymond Smith.”

“Nice to meet you, Raymond Smith. I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” 

“I know that.” I quirk an eyebrow at his answer, him staying silent though, a small smile grazing his lips. 

“Well, why don’t I give you a little tour? We have a whole new balcony on the east wing-”

“-no, thank you Oscar. I just found a way more interesting activity.” I cut him off, not taking my eyes off of Raymond Smith. I see his lips twitch but he is holding back a smirk. Which makes my smile grow. I only hear a huff and grumbling. 

I then break the eye contact, feeling rather lost now and walk past him, closely past him. My shoulder barely touching his jacket. I can feel his eyes on my back, making me sway my hips a tad more than usual. The things the right man can make you do.

I decide to sit down at an empty table and pick out some of the delicate canapés placed in the center. It looks like a mushroom tartlet and once inside my mouth I nod to myself. One thing that makes me come back to these parties is definitely the appetisers and the drinks. Lot’s of effort goes into them but no one seems to enjoy any. Either because they are busy laughing at jokes that are not funny or because they think others would judge them for eating. I learned to not care, ever, about what someone thought of me because I eat more than them. Their loss.

“Enjoying the food, I see.” I chew quickly and swallow thickly, holding a napkin to my lips as Raymond sits next to me at the round table, taking a tartlet himself. I hum.

“I do, cannot be mad about the food. I am a true gourmet, what can I say. But- you probably already knew that, did you not?” I grin at him, watching his chew and making eye contact with me once more. He chuckles, shaking his head.

“No, did not. I will note it down though.” His teasing tone sparks my interest and I wonder how far I could go. Or what he works as. Why I have never seen him before. 

“Tell me, Raymond Smith, who are you?” I turn toward him, leaning my arm on the table and tilting my head slightly, full attention on him. He wipes his hands at a napkin, eyes cast down as he seems deep in thought. Choosing his words carefully. One of the only men here who do.

“I don’t really exist. I just - like a good dinner party every now and then.” I bite my lip at his cheeky reply, trying to hold back all the things running through my mind. 

“Can I guess?” I lift my head and he nods, gesturing for me to go ahead. He leans back slightly, probably expecting the most cliché answers anyway. So I think again, observing his posture and the drifting of his eyes every now and then. Back over to the big table. A couple people sitting there. He must be here either with his wife or colleague. I shake my head at the wife, he wouldn’t be sitting here with me if he had one. 

“Well, seeing as you’re not here by yourself, you must be the right hand to someone or - maybe you are the kid of a big fish.” He smirks, nodding. One must be correct. I go with my first instinct. “-a right hand man it is.” I look back over to where he seemed to focus earlier. I do know a few of them. One being a partner to my father’s business. Another one the son of said partner. And then - no way. Micheal Pearson himself. The Micheal Pearson. Sticky bush Pearson. But Raymond would not be involved-

“-I see you figured it out.” My eyes snap back to Raymond and I close my mouth, licking my dry lips in the process. I tense up, not knowing if running would be an appropriate reaction. But then again - I never cared about appropriate behaviour that much.

“And I also see you’re taken aback.” It sounded more like a question really. But I only nod, sending him a small smile.

“It is not every day that I cross paths with true gangsters.” 

“I will take that as a compliment. And just for your information-” He leans in closer, elbows on his thighs. “-there are a few more gangsters here than you would like to care.” 

I gulp at his intense eyes, he leans back up and stands to his feet, smoothing out his suit and buttoning his jacket. 

“Well, if you would excuse me, my duties as a right hand man are needed. Have a good rest of your evening, Miss (Y/L/N). Enjoy your dinner.” 

“You too, Mister Smith.” He nods, walking off. I look after him, Mister and Misses Pearson walking off with him and exiting the building. I let out a breath I was holding and sink back into the chair. Not without being haunted by those icy blue orbs.

...

_________________________________

More The Gentlemen Imagines

Full Masterlist

part two

[theheightofdishonor]

@asilhalawadi  I retyped it from memory. 

There’s a lot of things the Beyblade Metal Saga get wrong (do not get me started on how dirty they did Yu) but when they got it right, it was brilliant and the connection between Ryuga, Tsubasa, and Kyoya, is one of those things. 

So starting in Metal Fusion, these three are set against each other as Gingka’s rivals- I single them out specifically because these are the only rivalries that span the entire Saga. You’ve got Kyoya who starts out intimidating but is quickly established a reliable ally-no matter what he says on the contrary. There’s Tsubasa who you can’t quite get a read on until well into the third act of Fusion but ,eventually chooses a side and sticks to it. Then there’s Ryuga, the “big bad” who never chooses Gingka’s “side” even as Gingka saves his life, he’s a wild card and they often emphasize his untrustworthiness throughout the Saga.  Green, Purple and Red respectively. 

It’s easier to split this up and discuss the inner dynamics first so Imma start with Kyoya-Ryuga. Controversial opinion but these two are just slight variations on all the same characteristics;their personalities are centered around individuality, mistrust, arrogance, a lack of manners, and a specific honor code that they don’t like revealing- they’re mirrors.It’s interesting to note that their respective colours (the colour of their auras, Kyoya’s green and Ryuga’s Red) are complementary colours. On a colour wheel, Red is directly opposite from Green. Even as they go through the same things, they’re on different sides. In Fusion, they’re both manipulated by Doji and fight to truly develop their own personality but they’re pitted against each other. In Masters, their developments take place mostly off-screen, never meeting and in Fury, they’re once again major players on opposing sides. There is exactly two points in the series where these two collide (other than Ryuga’s death) 

The first is Battle Bladers. Their match in Battle Bladers is fundamental in understanding how their characters connect. Seriously watch it, it’s one of the best battles in the Saga. Ryuga begins by trashing the stadium before the battle begins, a move that Kyoya counters by destroying the stadium even more. It’s a statement of power as much as an intimidation tactic and neither backs down. Their battle continues the same way as they snark back at each other and exchange blows each with the force of a special move. It’s very “fight fire with fire”, “eye for an eye” and it works better than anyone would have thought.  Tsubasa may be the first person to ever withstand the Dark Move but Kyoya’s the first one Ryuga fully takes seriously. It’s a fascinating battle. Kyoya taunts Ryuga to force him to use his full strength and Ryuga complies-knowingly. (The implications of him temporarily pushing back the Dark Force just because Kyoya asked-I) Kyoya has full confidence that his taunts will work, he admits as much. Ryuga, for his part, verbally praises Kyoya for being the only person to ever push him this far. (Granted, the way he says it, it’s more of an insult but.) They’re so equal in power that the battle was actually up to toss before Ryuga got possessed. But the thing with fighting fire with fire is that it leads to a lot of people getting burned. Ryuga gets thoroughly possessed (and would likely have stayed that way if not for Gingka) and Kyoya is impaled by a demon spirit. (Remind me to speculate on Hikaru and Kyoya’s response to the Dark Power). It doesn’t end well for either of them- but they’re equals. 

In Metal Masters, they’re both demoted to secondary characters. They get lives outside of Gingka and don’t meet face to face until Metal Fury. Like I said, their arcs are parallel so it makes sense that the next time they battle toe to toe- they’re both on the verge of a series long personal conflict that has direct consequences on the fate of the world. This time, Ryuga is the self-assured one, he had an entire (mostly)Gingka-free season to sort out his issues and grow in power. Kyoya, on the other hand, isn’t even comfortable with his new bey yet and it’s almost depressing how quickly Ryuga wins that match. Ryuga even marks on it,  that although their beys may be equal in power, they themselves no longer are equals. Their maths are set into motion and that’s the last communication between the two of them.

Their individual conflicts in Fury are actually the same exact problem- stemming from the fact that they are both horrified at the thought of selflessness. They have to justify their actions as something that directly affects them and being tied down by caring about something else is one of the worst things imaginable.  By this meeting in Fury, Kyoya was a ticking bomb that had its roots all the way back to the beginning of Masters. In Fusion, they had become friends, but when Masters starts, Kyoya forces their relationship strictly back into rivals and does his bet to keep it that way. (I feel so bad for Gingka who literally gets nightmares about this moment) Even when he shows up to stop Ziggurat like some kind of guardian angel with impeccable timing - he’s quick to clarify that he’s not there for Gingka and only showed up because he thought Ryuga’s presence in the World Championships was suspicious. Like he’s right but ouch. It’s important to note that no one ever calls him out on this behavior where even as he helps and fights alongside them, he’s denying that he cares. I can’t even blame them for it because it wasn’t worth the effort. 

When Kyoya actively joins Gingka again in Fury to search for Legendary Bladers, he’s obviously uncomfortable  with the situation. I mean, there’s only so much you can pile under the justification of doing it to secure your rivalry. Let’s be real, that excuse barely worked even all the way back in Fusion when Kyoya joined forces with a couple of people he can’t stand to follow Gingka all the way to effing Koma Village. So him going batshit was inevitable, Aguma was just the spark. 

Ryuga is in the same boat, except when he professes to not care, it’s much more believable unless you take a good look at his actions. His help in defeating Ziggurat could be attributed to his canon reason of dealing with ghosts from his past. But that doesn’t explain why he practically forces Gingka to realize his bey’s power before his battle with Julian or him advising Tsubasa on overcoming the Dark Power and even making sure Tsubasa gets back to his team. When Fury starts, the audience has a reluctant hope that Ryuga will help- a thought that is promptly and swiftly crushed with a sledgehammer. You’re given a bit of hope again as we explore Ryuga and Kenta’s bonds and are barraged with scenes of Ryuga displaying consideration if not concern for the actual child following him around. But it’s not to be. In a scene that’s actually very similar to Ryuga’s OG battle with Kyoya, Doji taunts Ryuga who allows that taunt to influence his actions and again, it ends badly for him. Not only does he fully revive Nemesis, it ends up leading to his own death.

However, Ryuga does a 180 in death and his affection for Kenta/honour/guilt that this kid’s going to kill himself because he blames himself for your death brings Ryuga back to life (?) to hand the Star Fragment to Kenta. But it’s already too late and Zeus’s barrier doesn’t hold even with a replacement Summer constellation bey. His grand gesture, which is actually super emotional when you watch the entire thing, ends up doing nothing other than prolonging the battle. 

But, but, but. In that very last moment when all hope is gone and Pegasus is the only bey left spinning, Kyoya admits what he’s been denying for years- the effect Gingka has had on his life and that he cares for the guy. In a show of trust that Kyoya from even a couple days previous would never have done, Kyoya offers his bey spirit along with that of his precious Leon’s to Gingka. This, of course, prompts everyone else to do the same and Gingka defeats Nemesis and saves the world. But it wouldn’t have happened without Kyoya doing that. One lives, one dies. 

Now, Kyoya-Tsubasa. No worries, the rest of this is going to be significantly shorter. Green and Purple, both cool/secondary colours, are on the same side Despite this, Kyoya and Tsubasa kind of end up playing tag throughout the Saga. In Fusion, Kyoya’s the one at Gingka’s side until Doji switches the battle order in Battle Bladers and suddenly, tag, Tsubasa’s the one facing Ryuga. He loses, tag, Kyoya’s turn. In Masters, Tsubasa’s “tagged” and is now the one who travels with Gingka while Kyoya takes off and then there’s a brief pause for the Season Finale™. In Fury, Kyoya gets the star fragment, tag, he’s the one traveling with Gingka now and out of the two, Kyoya’s the one in the limelight for the rest of the season. 

On a superficial level, Kyoya and Tsubasa are opposites. Kyoya’s brash where Tsubasa is reserved. Kyoya clashes head on, Tsubasa keeps his cool. Yet, under the surface, they’re alike- moody, antisocial, and emotionally constipated. Jk, that part’s not til later. Really though, they’re pretty alike. Despite Kyoya’s abrasiveness, he’s almost always got some kind of plan in battle (even if they’re occasionally dumb things like let’s start a tornado which could potentially sweep away the helicopter that’s our ride out of here) and Tsubasa is no stranger to winging it -hacking the Dark Nebula without planning it beforehand, anyone?. Their differences balance the other person out. They’re almost foils in a manner.

With these two, Fusion is the place to be. (two pints of Sam Adams and I’m workin on three) Specifically, Tsubasa’s match with Ryuga and Kyoya’s attitude about it.That clip displays it better than I could explain. Tsubasa spends most of the actual battle avoiding El Drago- his plan is to draw out El Drago’s full strength and then attack when Ryuga’s at his weakest. (it makes more sense in the story) Everyone in the stadium is against this- the crowd is booing, even Gingka and the rest of their friends are unsure but Kyoya doesn’t lose faith for a second. He urges Tsubasa to not pay attention to the crowd-to trust his instincts and at that moment, he’s the only person that believes in Tsubasa. His faith is rewarded as Tsubasa becomes the first person to withstand the Dark Move. 

Despite having never battled each other, Tsubasa and Kyoya are established as equals in skill, power and intellect. And then the World Championships Qualifiers starts and along with it, Tsubasa and Kyoya’s one and only match.. The episode actually does most of the work for you by reflecting on these two, their skills and personalities. If you hadn’t thought of it already, you have now been spoonfed that Kyoya and Tsubasa are equals. The battle starts and them being equals is hammered in some more as they comment on how they know all of each other’s moves. But they don’t and Kyoya crushes him. Whether Kyoya would still have won if Tsubasa wasn’t possessed is up to debate. But the scales tip, nonetheless, and although Tsubasa overcomes the Dark Power, we’re not given a marker of any sort to tell if Tsubasa got stronger by the end. This is further complicated because in Fusion, Tsubasa never shows the extent of his power, so we don’t know if the Tsubasa that defeated the Dark Power is stronger than the Tsubasa before it. Either way, this battle marks the end of them as Tsubasa stagnates and Kyoya continues to grow stronger. 

Next is Tsubasa-Ryuga, also known as my shortest section because there is exactly one thing and one thing only that ties them together- the Dark Power. Initially there are two reasons because it’s Tsubasa’s job to spy on Ryuga but the Dark Power’s more important and they didn’t interact much because of that job, anyway. Although the weakest pairing in this triangle, they have the most significant meetings, a grand total of 4, 1 of which, notably, is not a battle. The first one occurs when Doji attempts to feed Tsubasa’s power to Ryuga once Tsubasa is revealed to be a spy. It ends in a draw because Phoenix saves him from imminent failure. The second one is the Battle Bladers Match-the one where a bit of the Dark Power latches on to Tsubasa’s soul. The third is in Metal Masters. Under instructions from the WBBA, Hyoma tracks down Ryuga who then finds Tsubasa and gives him advice on defeating the Dark Power (while destroying Excalibur for the hell of it) and safely delivers him to Gingka and co. It’s the weirdest episode- plays straight out of an alternative universe. In Fury, they meet for the last time in a completely random tournament while both are searching for Legendary Bladers. They battle, Ryuga wins and again, it’s straight out of an alternative universe because Ryuga’s almost cordial- at least compared to his usual version. Like if you look at his other battles, Ryuga in this clip can even be called nice. If you watch it, you’ll note the exact second Tsubasa determines that Ryuga’s crazy. It’s also got the line “The Dragon Emperor just is The Dragon Emperor” which cracks me up for no reason. Personally, I do think Ryuga’s a smidgen softer on Tsubasa because of the shared Dark Power thing but they don’t interact nearly enough to confirm it. 

(When I say last time, I do mean face to face confrontations, and not them just happening to be at the same place) 

Between the three of them, they’ve got this complicated push-pull dynamic despite very limited interaction between them. They’ve also got a long list in common; from personality traits:prickly, hard-working, skilled, smart, mistrustful/suspicious, pessimistic, confident if not overconfident, antisocial,  habits: most at home in the wild, unusually strong connections to their beys, and the weirdest of all; Yu who has idolized all three of them right around the time of their biggest self-crisis; Ryuga, Tsubasa and Kyoya in that order.

[butcanijustnot]

Falcon and The Winter Soldier Fan-Script - Episode One - My life is a garbage dumpster that is also on fire, Poetry by James Barnes.

Author: Crystalline / @butcanijustnot

Fandom: Marvel x reader

Tagging: @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69,  @sci-fi-guy2442

Summary: I wrote a whole damn episode for FATWS because I’m damn excited.

Word Count: 6000 roughly

~SCENE ONE~ EXT. OUTSIDE APARTMENT - DAY

Episode opens as the camera pans along the wall and window of a normal looking modern apartment. Grunts can be heard, along with the sound of rustling fabric and zips/Velcro straps.

BUCKY BARNES:

(Voice-over)

You know when someone goes out of town and asks you to look after their pets while they’re gone?

INT. INSIDE APARTMENT - DAY

The camera is focused on BUCKY BARNES as he sits in an old-fashioned armchair, looking bored as he stares off at something the audience can’t see behind the camera.

BUCKY BARNES:

(Voice-over Cont.)

That’s basically what I’m doing now. Except my friend is a little further than ‘out of town’ and ‘their pet’ is less of a cat or a dog and more of a-

Scene shifts, now showing BUCKY’s perspective. He’s staring at a hallway full of doors.

One of the doors fly open to reveal SAM WILSON, dressed in his falcon suit which has been resewn and repainted to match the Red-White-Blue Captain America colour palate. He jogs up in front of BUCKY BARNES and the scene freeze-frames on him

BUCKY BARNES:

(Voice-over cont.)

A jerk.

Scene resumes.

SAM WILSON:

(Sighs and gestures to his suit)

Okay, how do I look?

BUCKY:

Like the American flag threw up all over you.

SAM:

Perfect.

BUCKY:

(Gesturing to the wings)

You look like a parakeet, or a parrot. (Smirks) Samuel want a cracker?

SAM:

(cutting him off with a groan)

Just tell me I look nice, idiot!

BUCKY:

(sighs, glares at SAM and then deadpans)

You look nice, Sam.

SAM:

Thank you.

Sam turns and walks back down the hallway, disappearing into the same room he appeared from.  

BUCKY:

(shouting after him)

BUT DO SOME SQUATS IF YOU WANT AMERICAS ASS

SAM:

(offscreen, insulted)

HEY!

Camera shot widens to show OLD STEVE ROGERS in an armchair next to BUCKY.

OLD STEVE ROGERS:  

He’s right.

SAM: 

(offscreen)

Oh, Shut it, you!

---RUN TITLE CARD---

~SCENE TWO~ INT. DOORWAY - NIGHT

BUCKY BARNES and OLD STEVE ROGERS are standing at the open front door, the two characters facing one another as they speak.

STEVE:

Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Buck?

BUCKY:

Steve, you’re 105. Go do old people things. I’ll be fine here.

STEVE:

Because I can stay if you want.

BUCKY:

No, Steve, you’re okay.

STEVE:

I just want to make sure you’re going to be alright here.

SAM:

(Offscreen)

He’ll be fine!

BUCKY:

See? Sam’s here. I’ll be fine.

STEVE:

Okay, well call me if you have any problems or if you need anything.

BUCKY:

Steve?

STEVE:

Yes?

BUCKY:

Leave.

STEVE:

Fine, alright. (Yells) Bye Sam!

SAM:

Goodnight, Geiser!

OLD STEVE ROGERS leaves, and BUCKY BARNES shuts the door behind him. He pauses, staring at the closed door for a second with an almost-sad expression on his face. He shakes his head, turning on his heel and walking back down the hallway towards the kitchen, where SAM WILSON is eating dry cereal straight out of the cardboard box and staring of at the wall. BUCKY BARNES looks at him, confused.

BUCKY:

Hey, man, are you okay?

This snaps SAM WILSON from his thoughts and he looks over at BUCKY BARNES

SAM:

Yeah, I’m fine. (Eats cereal)

BUCKY:

Are you sure about that? Because you look like you’re having an identity crisis, and you promised me you would give me warning next time that happens.

SAM:

I’m not having an identity crisis!

(Sighs)

I’m just worried, man. I’m Captain America now, and I have no clue what to do.

He pauses, shaking his head.

SAM: (Cont.)

How did Steve do it?

BUCKY:

(Jokingly)

What, be a safety risk to himself and others? I think he was just an idiot.

SAM:

(Laughs)

No, no. How was he so… Good? All the time? It seems impossible but he made it look effortless, like he was just always like that.

BUCKY:

He was. It was exhausting.

SAM:

THERE! Like, how am I supposed to live up to that! I’m not a super-soldier or a genius or someone with any sort of superpowers. I’m just Sam Wilson, idiot with a bird backpack.

He starts pacing.

I never expected to be a superhero, but I dealt with it. Then I never expected to be a well-known superhero, but I dealt with that too, but this… I’m CAPTAIN AMERICA now, and I don’t know if I can deal with that…

Pause

BUCKY:

You’re having an identity crisis.

SAM:

I’m having an identity crisis!

BUCKY grasps SAM’s shoulders and looks him dead in the eye).

BUCKY:

I’m willing to do anything to support you, but if you play Taylor Swift again, I’m jumping out that window. (gestures)

SCENE CUTS and SAM WILSON is lying on the floor, curled up in a ball with his back pressed against the foot of the couch. The floor is strewn with candy wrappers and ice-cream containers. BUCKY BARNES is lying on the couch, absentmindedly eating gummi bears. ’I knew you were trouble when you walked in.’ plays softly in the background in addition to the soft drone of the TV.

SAM:

I’m just saying there is no way I’m not going to screw this up. There is literally no way.

BUCKY:

(Snorts)

Of course.

SAM:

(Looks up at him, insulted)

You’re stunningly unhelpful!

BUCKY:

Okay, sorry, I promise I am trying to be reassuring. I’m just saying, of course you’re going to screw it up at least once. Steve screwed up a bunch of times.

SAM:

(Annoyed)

When?

BUCKY:

Sam, he was an ice block in the ocean for almost a century. Do you know how badly you have to screw up for that to happen?

Sam’s expression is unreadable for a moment, then he laughs

SAM:

Yeah, I suppose. I just can’t stop doubting myself. Every time I try to think about anything, my brain just starts running into over drive thinking about everything I could do wrong. What if I can’t save someone? What if I’m the reason someone dies?

BUCKY:

Alright, I can help you.

Hops off the couch and moves to sit at SAM’s side

BUCKY: (Cont.)

I know that you’re stressed because you have no idea what you’re going to do, and you’re terrified that you’re going to screw it up. The reason that I know this is because Steve acted exactly the same way when he was first picked up the Shield.

(Pause)

But Steve knew what he was doing. Not as Captain America, he was as much of an idiot then as you are now, but when he needs to make a decision this important, he knows what to do. He gave you that shield for a reason, and that’s because he knew you could do this.

SAM:

(slowly nods)

Yeah, I suppose that makes sense, thanks. Hey, why didn’t you take up the shield? I know Steve would have picked you as his first choice.

BUCKY:

He asked, but I declined. I didn’t think I could do it. And not in the way you’re thinking. I literally could not spend time in that suit doing those things and not be reminded of some of the worst times in my life. I still have too much stuff going on in my head.

(Sighs)

The world needs a Captain America, but that Captain needs to be a reasonably stable human being that people can rely on. You might maybe screw it up, but I think I’d melt down. Much as I hate to admit it, you’d be a better Captain America in your sleep than I would be making my best effort.

SAM nods. There is another pause.  

SAM:

So, how did Steve start being Captain America?

BUCKY:

He started punching Nazi’s but I don’t think that’s a real option for you.

SAM:

Actually-

BUCKY:

(Interrupting)

Let’s consider something else first. (Pause) I mean, apart from that I think he just put on the suit and started running around. Was in TV, a couple of old movies. (Suddenly clasps Sam on the shoulder excitedly) You should be in-

SAM:

(interrupting)

No! I’m not doing that! Come on, there has to be more than that!

BUCKY:

(Annoyed)

Sam, unless you feel like doing experimental steroids, I don’t know what to tell you!

SAM:

Hell no!

SAM sighs, then reaches over and grabs a laptop off the table, bringing it into his lap and opening it.

SAM: (Cont.)

Okay, I’m just going to google him. Do some research, learn everything I can. I’m sure I can figure something out.

BUCKY stands and stretches, shaking his head.

BUCKY:

Alright, and while your driving yourself insane, I’m going to get some sleep. Goodnight, cuckoo bird.

SAM mumbles a goodnight and BUCKY EXITS. Sam goes back to staring at his laptop. Everything appears to be rather calm. The scene freeze-frames.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

Had I known what was going to happen that night, I would have handled that whole situation every differently.

A series of images flash up on the screen, too fast to be properly seen. These are scenes from later in the episode, showing the trials from last night. SAM on the street, SAM fighting, SAM losing.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over cont.)

But I didn’t.

And I completely blame myself for everything that happened next.

~SCENE THREE~ INT. APARTMENT - MORNING

It’s morning. BUCKY BARNES emerges from his room, still hazy with sleep. He heads for the kitchen, mumbling to himself. He opens the fridge and starts poking around.

SAM 

(Offscreen, sounding unsure of himself):

Hey man, you’re up early…

BUCKY:

(Not looking at him, still staring into the fridge):

Yeah, how’s are you? Better question, how did stalking Steve go?

SAM:

Uh, I mean, my night was interesting…

BUCKY:

What do you-

BUCKY finally looks offscreen at SAM, and his expression turns to shock. The camera shifts to SAM. He is dressed in his Captain Falcon gear, which is torn and shredded, riddled with gunshots and covered in his own blood. SAM opens his mouth to speak, but before he can the scene freeze-frames.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

This is the moment I realised Steve was not paying me enough for this.

Not by a long shot.

Scene resumes

BUCKY:

(Out loud)

What the fuck!

SAM:

(Quickly)

I can explain!

BUCKY:

How, Sam?!? How can you possibly explain this?!?

SAM:

I… I just… I can, I promise! But I need a minute first-

Sam pauses, swallowing and swaying slightly on the spot

SAM: (Cont.)

Because I think I’m going to pass out.

BUCKY rushes forwards towards SAM, stabilising him.

SCENE CUTS and Sam is lying on the couch, BUCKY sitting next to him and nursing one of his many wounds. He pressed too hard and SAM hisses in response.

SAM:

(Whining)

Careful! That hurts!

BUCKY:

(Annoyed, glaring at SAM)

I’m glad! This was astronomically stupid of you, and you still haven’t explained any of what happened! Frankly, you look like you got dragged through a thorn bush backwards!

Sam is silent, embarrassed.

BUCKY:

Oh my god, I swear if you wrecked Ms. Andersons roses, I’m going to kill you.

SAM:

No, nothing like that! I just- Just let me- Okay, I’ll explain.

SCENE CUTS to last night, after BUCKY went to bed. Sam is scrolling the web, reading various articles. He finds a series of videos labels ‘Captain America PSA’s’, and shrugs, clicking on it. These are the videos from ‘Spiderman: Homecoming’, and as SAM continues to watch them, he starts laughing like a maniac.

BUCKY:

(off-screen, banging on the wall and yelling from the other room)

I DON’T CARE IF YOU LOSE YOUR MIND BUT CAN YOU DO IT QUIETER?!?

SAM:

(Voice-over)

You were kind of an ass about it.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

I have the vaguest memory of this.

(Pause)

Why are you telling me all this? None of it explains why you look like hell.

SAM:

(Voice-over)

I’m getting there.

SAM closes his laptop, sighing and rubbing his face with his hands. He stands, leaving the living room and heading to his bedroom. The Captain Falcon costume is on a mannequin in the corner of the room. SAM crosses the room to stand in front of the suit, looking it over.

SAM:

He just put on the suit and started running around…

He swallows, reaching out to touch the fabric.

I can do that.

SCENE CUTS back to the present, with SAM and BUCKY on the sofa. BUCKY looks both disappointed and pissed off. BUCKY reaches over with his flesh hand and hits him on the forehead, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to send the ‘you’re an idiot’ message clearly.

SAM:

(Insulted)

OW!

~SCENE FOUR~ EXT. SHADY DARK STREET – NIGHT

SAM WILSON is walking down a street, now dressed in the Captain Falcon suit, mumbling under his breath as he walks.

SAM:

(Whispering)

I can do this; I can do this.

He coughs and deepens his voice, trying to imitate Steve Rogers.

SAM: (Cont.)

Hey, stop that! Stop right there!

He places his hands on his hips.

SAM: (Cont.)

I’m Captain America. I’m Captain America. I’m Captain America.

He drops his façade and sighs.

SAM: (Cont.)

What am I doing?

The turns a corner and finds a group of juvenile teenagers loitering in front of a house, sitting on the front steps or leaning against the fence. They’re smoking and drinking, being obnoxiously loud and taking up the entire pavement. SAM looks up at the block of apartments they’re in front of, and sees people peeking out from behind the curtains at the juveniles, looking very uneasy. SAM takes a deep breath.

SAM:

(Whispering to himself)

Here we go.

SAM walks up to the Juveniles, gesturing for their attention. They sneer at him, and one of them, THE LEADER, walks to the front of the pack and glares at him.

SAM:

What’s going on here?

LEADER:

Why do you care? You’re not a cop. (He looks at SAM’s suit and sneers) Nice costume. Where’s the party?

SAM:

Right here, apparently, that’s the problem. You’re loitering, you’re littering (he kicks a beer can away from his foot and back towards LEADER) and you all need to leave.

The LEADER’s expression darkens, and he looks as if he is about to speak. Before he can, the scene freeze-frames on him.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

Oh my god, you got beat up by children?

SAM:

(Voice-over)

No! Shut up!

The scene resumes.

LEADER:

(Annoyed)

What’s your problem, man?

SAM:

(Ignoring him, changing the subject by pointing at the drink in his hand)

How old are you all?

LEADER:

(Aggravated)

Listen, man, I don’t know who you think you are but you need to leave right now before things get ugly.

One of the GIRL’s sitting on the steps pipes up, interrupting and trying to get the leader’s attention.

GIRL:

Uh, guys?

LEADER:

(Brushing her off)

Just a second, Amy.

The girl, AMY, presses him further, rising from her spot on the steps and walking down to stand next to him.

AMY:

No, really, this is important.

LEADER:

(Aggravated)

Amy, not now!

AMY:

(Yelling)

THAT’S THE FALCON!

The JUVELINES goes silent, the group’s gaze moving between LEADER and SAM, then erupts in a series of whispers. THE LEADER looks at SAM and then AMY, then SAM and then AMY again. SAM gestures to the suit and takes a deep breath, trying to be confident, but as he speaks, he gives away how unsure of himself he is.

SAM:

Actually, I’m Captain America now.

AMY:

(Confused, stepping back)

What?

LEADER:

No, man, no. I’m an idiot, but I know what Captain America looks like. He’s like…

LEADER gestures above SAM’s head.

LEADER (Cont.)

taller and…

He gestures to SAM’s arms.

LEADER (Cont.)

bigger and…

He takes a step back and gestures to all of SAM.

LEADER (Cont.)

…he just doesn’t look like that.

AMY:

Dude, shut up!

SAM sighs and rubs his face with his hand.

SAM:

Okay, let’s try this a totally different way.

SAM presses a button on his glove and his wings extend with a thunk, red and blue. It’s almost intimidating.

SAM:

Leave.

The juveniles mumble to each other, before looking at LEADER. His face is unreadable for a second, glaring at SAM but eventually he sighs, shrugs and gestures for everyone to move somewhere else.

LEADER:

Not worth it, guys.

They leave, taking turns glaring at SAM as they go. SAM presses another button and his wings fold back into his suit.

SAM:

(Quietly, to himself)

No, I’m sorry, but I’m going to count that.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over, in disbelief)

Wait, that actually worked?!?

SAM:

(Voice-over)

Yeah. I mean, I don’t know why, but yeah.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

So, if the kids didn’t do this then who did?

SAM:

(Voice-over)

I’m getting there.

SAM shakes his head and continues walking, mumbling under his breath. After a moment, his attention is drawn to a telephone pole covered in a number of “Missing” posters. He frowns, stopping in front of it.

SAM:

(Quietly, to himself)

I thought they took all those down…

SAM leans closer to the poll, squinting as he trys to read the print on the poster.

SAM (Cont.):

Wait a second…

SAM rips down one of the posters and reads it over, looking at the image, the numbers, and all the other information with a frown.

SAM:

April 17… That’s yesterday…

SAM looks back up at the telephone pole, reading all the posters, tearing them off the pole as he reads them. He looks around, realising they are on every pole. He grasps the posters and looks over them again paying attention to the dates.

SAM:

April 10th, April 11th, April 11th April 12th, April 13th April 15th, these are… these are recent.

He pauses, looking at the photos.

Fourteen kidnappings in a month, eight in the last week… That doesn’t just happen, what’s going on?

SCENE CUTS back to the present, with SAM injured on the couch and BUCKY attending to his wounds. SAM gestures with one arm as he speaks.

BUCKY:

Excuse me for interrupting, I hate to keep bringing this up, but how the hell did any of this lead to…

Bucky makes a machine gun motion with his hands towards SAM. SAM gives him a dirty look in response.

SAM:

There wasn’t a machine gun! And I’m getting there! Just chill out!

BUCKY:

Sorry. So, you’re investigating missing poster people.

SAM:

I’m going to be honest with you, my first thought was aliens.

BUCKY:

Understandable. But it wasn’t?

SAM:

Oh no. It was worse. It was so much worse.

~SCENE FIVE~ INT. 24 STORE - NIGHT

SAM speed walks into a store, grabbing a city map from a wall and a notebook and slamming them both on the checkout counter. The checkout clerk, a tired old man, raises his eyebrows as he rings it up.

CLERK:

Nice outfit.

SAM:

Thanks, I’m Captain America.

CLERK:

(Hums) Interesting interpretation but okay.

SAM:

No, you don’t understand, I’m actually… (cuts himself off with a sigh) Never mind.

SAM hands over the money and takes the items.

SCENE CUTS and SAM is sitting on a bench illuminated by street lights. She’s looking at the ‘missing’ posters and then marking off points on a map in a red pen. These are the points where the people went missing. SAM leans back, looking over everything on the map and all of the posters. He groans, unable to find a connection.

SAM:

(Mumbling to himself)

Same time and all of them within the same mile radius…

SCENE CUTS and Sam is walking along a street, alternating between staring at his map, a poster and looking around at the streets. Apart from the fact that it’s pitch black, the streets look normal.

SAM:

Come on, what happened to you, Spencer?

He crosses the street towards a park, where he can hear voices. He enters the park and immediately regrets it, as the voices turn out to be the Juveniles from earlier. He sighs, walking past. The LEADER notices SAM and rises from his spot, walking after him.

LEADER:

(Calling out)

Are you following us?

SAM ignores him, staring down at his map.

LEADER:

Hey! Are you following us!?! I’ll call the cops; I don’t care who you are!

SAM looks up from his map, annoyed.

SAM:

I’m not following you.

LEADER:

Really? It certainly looks that way. You told us to move, we moved, now leave us alone.

SAM:

Like I said, I’m not following you. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to these people. You’re all fine where you are.

The LEADER is quiet for a second, looking at the posters in Sam’s hand, then nods understandingly.

LEADER:

(nodding at the posters)

You’re looking for those people?

SAM:

Yeah, do you know about them?

LEADER:

I know most people have given up hope of finding them.

LEADER pauses, before nodding gesturing over at the JUVENILES.

LEADER (Cont.):

Yeah, most of us knew at least one of them. It’s kind of a close community around here. Same high schools, church groups, family friends, that sort of stuff.

There is a pause filled with silence between the two of them.

SAM:

I know this is a weird request, but do you think you could help me? If you knew these people, you might be a smarter than the cops.

LEADER scoffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

LEADER:

I’ve been telling people that for years. Nice to hear someone else say it for once.

LEADER looks over his shoulder at the group of JUVENILES. They look back at him, mouthing words and making vague gestures. He responds with his own gestures, equally vague. He turns back to Sam.

LEADER:

I’ll see what I can do. Stay here.

SAM nods and LEADER walks back over to the group. They talk for a moment. LEADER gestures to SAM and the other teenagers look at him. AMY grabs LEADER’s arm and he nods. Eventually he walks back over to SAM.

SAM:

What’s the verdict?

LEADER:

(Sighs)

Can we touch them?

SAM:

(Confused)

…What?

LEADER:

Your wings. Amy wants to touch the wings.

SAM:

Oh, uh-

SAM pressed the glove button and extends his wings.

SAM:

I guess that would be alright. And then they’ll help me?

LEADER:

As much as we can.

LEADER gestures for SAM to follow him back to the group. While they’re walking, LEADER speaks.

LEADER:

I’ve got to warn you, some of us are pretty drunk.

SAM:

I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.

LEADER:

(Smirks)

As you wish.

SAM:

Hey, Man, do you have a name?

LEADER looks at SAM, hesitant for a moment. Finally, he answers.

LEADER:

My name’s Jacob.

SAM:

Hey Jacob, I’m Sam.

JACOB:

Good to know.

SCENE CUTS and SAM is sitting with the group of teenagers. They’re taking turns running their wings over the metal of his wings. His map and posters are all over the floor, and the other kids are discussing and sorting them. SAM points to one directly in front of him.

SAM:

And this one is… Lucy?

Jacob quickly picks up the paper and passes it over.

JACOB:

Yes.

Sam looks at another teenager, a GIRL.

SAM:

And you knew her?

GIRL: (Looks at JACOB and then nods)

Yeah, Lucy Ashforth. A bunch of us knew her actually. 

SAM:

Where’d you know her from?

GIRL:

She was part of my church circle. Used to be one of the best members. I swear my grandmother liked her more than she likes me.

The group laughs. It wasn’t that funny, but hey, they’re drunk. SAM gestures to the group, but mainly JACOB and the GIRL.

SAM:

Tell me everything you know.

GIRL is quiet for a moment, taking a swig from her drink. JACOB pipes up in her place.

JACOB:

Family used to have a lot of money, but a hefty divorce and her, her brother and her mother were practically homeless. They were able to get back on there feet enough to afford a house here, but they were always living pay check to pay check. She was a good student, down to earth and sweet.

GIRL:

She was cool, but too devoted to hang out with us or anything. I really only knew her from Church. Then one day, she just… stopped coming in.

SAM:

That’s when she disappeared?

GIRL: 

(Shaking her head)

No, this was way before that. She came in one day and said she’s found somewhere else she felt could cater to her differently, better.

SAM:

Huh?

GIRL:

Yeah, that was basically my reaction. She said, she was going to this recovery centre for people who died in the snap.

JACOB:

Yeah, she went on about the place, and it actually seemed like it was really helping her, at least for a while. Place always gave me the creeps, and the guy that runs it always gave me that gut feeling of… ‘wrong’, but she loved it. She was actually coming home from one of her meetings when she was taken.

SAM:

That’s not ominous at all… (He gestures to the posters) Did anyone else here go to these meetings?

There were murmurs of ‘yeah, actually’ from the other children

SAM:

Yeah, that’s very ominous. Anyone thought about going to the police?

JACOB:

Some of us have tried, myself included, but they won’t listen to us. They think we’re idiot kids. Frankly I’m shocked you’re listening.

SAM: 

Well, you do seem quite knowledgeable about these people. Especially Lucy.

The group goes quiet and looks around cautiously.

JACOB:

Yeah. She’s my sister.

SAM’s eyes widen. After a moment, he finally speaks.

SAM:

I’m going to find who did this.

JACOB face is unreadable for a moment, then he half-smiles and clasps SAM on the shoulder.

JACOB:

Of course you are, man, you’re Captain America.

SAM:

You said this is a support group? Do you know where this place is?

JACOB: 

(Nods)

It’s actually on my way home. I’ll show you. (Calling out) Amy!

AMY jogs over, collapsing next to him.

AMY:

What up?

JACOB:

I’m taking Sam to the snap centre. Can you make sure everyone else get home alright?

AMY shrugs but nods slowly.

AMY:

Sure.

JACOB:

Great, thanks.

JACOB stands and SAM follows. JACOB turns to his group and gestures for their attention.

JACOB:

(Sternly)

It’s 2am, everyone go home.

The group mumbles but slowly dispels. JACOB taps SAM arm and starts walking.

JACOB:

Come on, lets go.

SAM follows after.

SCENE CUTS and JACOB and SAM are pacing down a dark street. They come to a corner and JACOB stops suddenly, flattening himself to the wall. He quickly peeks around the corner and then moves back immediately.

JACOB:

It’s your lucky day, they’re there.

SAM:

Yay me.

(pause)

Can I see?

JACOB steps back and SAM moves past him to take a look around the corner.

There are two men standing out of the front of a lit-up building with a bright sign that reads ‘Snap Support Centre’, acting as guards. Each of them is armed with huge guns. Neither look friendly. SAM ducks back to JACOB.

SAM:

Those are some big guns for a therapy circle.

JACOB:

(nodding)

Yeah. Huge. There’s even more inside. And there’s a mounted machine gun on the roof.

JACOB points to the roof, where true to his words a machine gun is resting dormant.

SAM:

(In disbelief)

Holy crap, they mounted a machine gun on the roof.

The scene freeze-frames.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over, appalled)

You said there was no machine gun!

SAM:

(Voice-over)

I should have specified. They never SHOT me with the machine gun.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

That’s not better!

The scene resumes.

JACOB:

Perfect for skewering birds.

SAM glares at him over his shoulder.

SAM:

(Sarcastically)

You’re hysterical.

JACOB chuckles at his own joke, then returns to being serious. There is a pause as the camera pans in on SAM thinking, looking at the armed men at the door. Then, the scene freeze-frames.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

Go home Sam.

SAM:

(Voice-over)

Okay but-

BUCKY:

(Voice-over, sterner)

Go. Home. Sam.

SAM:

(Voice-over)

And in retrospect I totally should have but instead-

The scene resumes. SAM looks back at JACOB, determined.

SAM:

I’m going to confront them.

He starts to stand but Jacob grabs his arm and pulls him back, wide-eyed.

JACOB:

Are you crazy?!? I mean, of course you are but do you have a death wish?!? Seriously, those guys are terrifying and they are not hesitant to threaten you at a moment’s notice. Granted, I’ve never seen them shoot anyone, but I would NOT put it past them. Those guns are scary.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

Finally, someone with some common sense. I like this kid.

SAM:

I have guns too; you’re weren’t scared of me.

JACOB looks startled, looking SAM up and down.

JACOB:

Well I would have been if I knew you had guns!

A man rounds the opposite corner, heading towards the men with guns. He’s wearing a trench coat, likely concealing weapons. They salute him and he salutes back. They have a conversation SAM and JACOB can’t hear. JACOB sees him and flattens himself further into the wall.  

SAM:

Calm down, It’s okay.

He gestures to the new man.

SAM: (Cont.)

Who’s the trench coat man?

JACOB:

That’s their leader. His name’s Father Adam but everyone calls him Father Ash. He’s weird, right? I get total weird vibes off of him, but all the adults think I’m crazy. To busy drooling over him or whatever.

SAM:

(Looking at FATHER ASH)

No, I’m definitely getting some weird vibes here.

JACOB:

(relieved)

Thank you!

SAM clasps JACOB on the shoulder reassuringly.

SAM:

I’m going in there-

He sees JACOB about to argue and quickly cuts him off.

SAM: (Cont.)

You can’t convince me otherwise, I’m a stubborn son-of-a-bitch. Thank you, Jacob, you’ve been very helpful. Now, go home and stay safe.

JACOB stays still for a second, before standing and nodding.

JACOB:

You’re crazy, man, please don’t die.

SAM:

(Jokingly)

If you insist.

JACOB half-smiles and nods before turning and walking away from SAM. Looking back over his shoulder as he leaves, crossing the street and finally disappearing down a side alley. SAM turns back around and stands, taking a deep breath before rounding the corner towards the Snap Centre. The three men notice him as soon as he rounds the corner, and the two guards reach for there weapons. FATHER ASH dismisses them and they relax slightly, still glaring at SAM warningly. FATHER ASH steps towards SAM, extending his arm, overly friendly.

FATHER ASH:

It is late, my friend! You must me something of a night owl!

SAM:

Yeah, something like that.

FATHER ASH:

Is there something that we can help you with? You shouldn’t be walking the streets alone, what with people disappearing left right and centre.

SAM:

That’s actually what I’m here about. I’m investigating what happened to them. Do you have any idea what’s going on? Or why it hasn’t been in the news?

FATHER ASH:

(Ignoring his question and mocking him)

And do you always dress up as Captain America when you investigate serious crimes?

SAM:

Actually I… (gives up) You know what, yes, yes I do. It makes me feel powerful. Nobody messes with Captain America. There, I’ve told you something about me, now you tell what you know.

FATHER ASH:

(sighs melodramatically)

Someone is targeting my flock. They’re good men and women just looking for some help after the Snap, they don’t deserve this.

SAM:

(waves his hands to stop him)

You aren’t answering my question. Do you know what happened to these people or not?

FATHER ASH:

Of course not. I’m always here at my centre.

SAM:

Except for today.

FATHER ASH:

Except for today.

SAM:

That’s convenient.

FATHER ASH glares at SAM, taking threatening steps forward until he’s nose-to-nose with SAM.

FATHER ASH:

Are you trying to insinuate I am somehow responsible for their disappearances? 

SAM:

I’m not saying anything; I’m just looking around and this place drew a lot of attention from my sources.

The scene freeze-frames.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

Your sources are children, Sam.

SAM:

(Voice-over)

He didn’t know that! Shhh. Things are about to get interesting.

The scene resumes. For a moment, there is no movement, FATHER ASH and SAM silently facing off. Suddenly, FATHER ASH punches SAM square in the gut. SAM staggers backwards, gasping. The two men raise their guns and begin shooting, but SAM extends his wings and tears up into the sky, curving around and kicking one of the gunmen. The other gunman tackles him away and SAM stands in time to see FATHER ASH pull a pistol out of his coat. He shoots at SAM, most bullets missing. The first gunman grabs SAM from behind, pulling him into a headlock and suffocating him slowly. SAM futilely claws at his arm. The other gunman starts punching, first the face, then the stomach. As SAM begins to black out, FATHER ASH speaks.

FATHER ASH:

Stop! We’ll be seen! Leave him!

GUNMAN:

But sir, what if he dies on the pavement?

FATHER ASH:

Then he dies on the pavement. Not our damn problem.

The gunman holding SAM drops him and he falls onto the pavement, gasping. The two gunmen recede into the Snap centre, but FATHER ASH kneels down next to SAM.

FATHER ASH:

The missing are gone, blessed by my hand. You cannot stop this; it is the will of god.

FATHER ASH stands and moves inside the Snap Centre, disappearing from view. SAM groans, vision blurry.

SAM:

Dick.

SCENE CUTS back to the present. SAM gestures to himself.

SAM:

And that’s how I got here, like this.

BUCKY:

…How did you get home?

SAM:

I stayed there for a while, and then I dragged myself home. It was only like six block, it’s fine.

BUCKY looks at SAM, silent and motionless, and unreadable expression on his face.

SAM:

Um… James? You okay? Still with me, man?

BUCKY:

That was without question the stupidest, most crazy thing you have ever done and I’m going to go as far as I physically can out of my way to make sure that never ever happens again.

SAM sits up, looking BUCKY in the eye.

SAM:

(Unsure)

Are you saying you’re not letting me go out there anymore?

BUCKY:

No.

Bucky reaches under the couch and pulls out an AK-47. He turns it over and loads it, before cocking the weapon.

BUCKY (Cont.)

I’m saying I’m coming with you.

[komahinasecretexchange]

Title: Test of Courage

Author: @howbadcanibe

For: @kurokku-tokei

Rating/Warnings: T (a not so brief mention of past trauma, panic attack)

Prompt: Kimodameshi

Author’s notes: I hope I did this prompt right omg

“Remember our halloween party in school?” Saionji asked out loud during your communal breakfast. You watched as she popped another strawberry (that was coated in a concerning amount of sugar) into her mouth. There was a happy murmur of agreement in the room. She continued talking about this party that must have occurred after you were suspended and before you came back, while the others around her excitedly joined in.

“Remember how we snuck into the abandoned visual art room to spend the night? Those discarded sculptures were so creepy,” Sonia said, her eyes bright. From spending many hours in the library you knew Sonia’s favourite type of books were those that had horrific subject matter, so she must have had the time of her life in such a setting.

“What about when Gundam accidentally summoned all those bats?” Koizumi joined in, sounding ready to scold Gundam over something he did over four years ago.

“That was no accident, mortal! The swarm of winged rodents were under my control, it wasn’t until the siren started playing her dreadful hymn that they became free of my bounds!” Gundam said defensively. At the mention of her music, Ibuki began loudly singing one of her songs, causing the SHSL Imposter, who was to the immediate left of the musician, to cover their ears. Although the Imposter rolled their eyes at her song, they also showed a smile on their face and contributed to the growing conversation.

“I liked Souda’s fog machine. It made the atmosphere so ominous.”

“Now that was an accident! He said it was supposed to be a humidifier!” Nidai shouted from his table, laughing in turn.

“Hey!” Souda said, jumping up on his feet at the friendly criticism.

It was actually fairly unusual for their time at Hope’s Peak to be a positive group discussion point. Even long before Junko came into the picture and wreaked everyone’s hope and took Nanami from the world, the time you had shared at Hope’s Peak wasn’t as picture-prefect as Koizumi’s photographs portrayed them as. Between the deaths of Kuzuryuu’s sister and Koizumi’s ex-girlfriend, you indirectly blowing up the gym, and the rough time Hinata endured as a reserve course student, there were few good memories that could be salvaged.

The volume of the room was also unusual for this time of the day. Breakfast was usually the only time there was true peace when you were all gathered as a group. Everyone was usually too busy yawning or blinking away sleep for their eccentric and conflicting personalities to shine through. With loud noises not being something you enjoy, eating breakfast was your favourite group activity (despite the fact that you weren’t truly a fan of the “eating” part). You couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit of uncomfortable as the volume increased in the room, but your auditorial sensitivity was nothing to be too worried about. Besides, seeing the passion in the other talented student’s eyes was always a privilege.

As the others continued to talk (Kuzuryuu was now arguing with Akane; he was apparently still mad at her for practically eating all the food, her rebuttal being that she did leave plenty of chocolate sweets, and that it wasn’t her fault that he was lactose intolerant), you felt a hand on yours. Looking to your right you were greeted with Hinata’s comforting face, his two-toned eyes were expressing nothing but care and concern. The surrounding noise must have reached a decibel that Hinata knew crossed your comfortable/uncomfortable threshold, and he was here to comfort you.

“Are you okay?” he whispered so only you could hear, his multi-coloured eyes soft. He rubbed your hand with his thumb and you nodded, smiling back at your boyfriend.

There was a time in your life when you would reject any form of kindness, reasoning that no one should be wasting their emotional labour on the likes of you, as well as there were many times in your life when you weren’t offered any kindness at all, so you often still found yourself second guessing and hesitating to respond to Hinata.

It was true that you’ve been more than just close friends since he awakened you from your personal Neo World Program, you had only been officially dating for about three months, and you were still nervous to indulge in being cared for by anyone, let alone someone like Hinata. He knew this, and you were both working towards a place where you wouldn’t consider someone else’s comfort an indulgence.

“That night was truly a test of all our characters,” Nidai’s loud voice bringing you back to the group’s conversation, “and as everyone’s coach I’m pleased to say we all excelled at over coming the fears we encountered that night.” Smiles were exchanged, and the room went silent in a brief moment of reflection and pride.

“Not all of us,” Tsumiki said her eyes focused on you and Hinata, as well as Mitarai. Her voice was quiet and timid, like she was scared she was ruining the moment being shared between her classmates.

“Hey, shut it!” Saionji said with her usual malice towards the nurse. She probably had more to say but Saionji didn’t have the chance to spew anything else before her girlfriend placed her hand over Saionji’s mouth.

“Tsumiki has a point,” Koizumi said, glaring at Saionji as the dancer rolled her eyes. “Neither Kamukura, Komaeda, or Mitarai was there that night.”

“I believe my presence that night properly accounts for Mitarai’s absence,” the SHSL Imposter had a protective arm around Mitarai that clashed with the vinegar in their tone towards Koizumi. Even though they were one of the kindest out of the group, they were currently presenting as Togami and they had a role to follow. The animator looked small and scared, most likely due to both the sudden attention and getting singled out, and the idea of having to test the little courage that he has.

No one questioned the Imposter’s stance, and the group’s focus then fell on you and Hinata. “What about you two?” Koizumi asked. Her hand was still over Saionji’s mouth, and the dancer was beginning to move her head, as if she had to add her input and call you and your boyfriend scaredy-cats.

You consider the proposal for only half a moment. You’ve faced enough fears to last you a life time, but you’re sure this will be more fun than frightening. Besides, how could you say no to the ultimates? Espicially when they’re asking you to take part in the recreation of a shared happy memory between them.

Hinata’s hand was still on yours when you nod and he orally answered for both of you. “We’ll do it.”

The abandoned building was actually in much worse shape on the real Jabberwock island compared to its copy in the simulation. Apparently the interior of the building wasn’t included in the original code, and it took some quick, on the fly, coding from Alter Ego to make the mark-up for their party. In reality, the building was truly abandoned, and had no running water, air conditioning or electricity. It was nothing more than rotting wood, rusty nails, and dust. Between its interior state and the memory of what occurred there while in the simulation, it was the perfect spot for the night’s activities.

After breakfast you and Hinata were instructed to stay in your shared cabin for the day, and leave the preparations to the others. Staying in bed with Hinata had to be your favourite thing to do on the island, so there wasn’t a single complaint over this request from you.

Currently you were laying on your stomach, jacket and shoes removed, and had an open book in front of you. Hinata was sitting up and would occasionally lean down to brush hair out of your face and kiss your forehead. He also was toying with your currently detached mechanical arm, making a small improvement to something you hadn’t notice was breaking. It was peaceful and quiet, save for the occasional noise you could hear from the direction of the abandoned building through your open window. There was no pressure between the two of you to force a conversation or do something and you were both content with just being in each other’s presence.

As the day passed, you had decided to take a nap, reasoning that you would be kept up all night by the other’s attempts to recreate the experience they each had during their halloween party. You woke up hours later to the setting sun on your face and Hinata’s arms wrapped around your back. Your face rested against his chest and your thin body laid on top of his.

Noticing you stirring, Hinata spoke to you softly as he hugged you. “Hey, it’s just past 9:30, so we still have a half hour before they want us to be at the abandoned building.” You nodded slowly, not making any other attempts to move just yet. From the many times you’ve slept together you knew there is absolutely nothing as comfortable as laying on Hinata’s warm figure.

“Are you nervous?” Hinata asked to your sleepy self, one hand still on the small of your back and the other lifting your thin white hair from your forehead. As you shrugged a response you realized you were warm and were probably grossly sweating all over Hinata, not to mention that you had the majority of your weight on him. You quickly rolled off of your boyfriend, blinking the sleep out of your eyes, and muttering a quiet sorry that he either didn’t hear or didn’t see purpose in responding to. You knew Hinata would tell you it’s okay and he knew you saying sorry was more of an instinctive response than a conscious apology.

“You know I don’t like doubting the others, Hinata-kun,” you said after your gather yourself, sitting up, “but I don’t believe that even with their combined efforts that they would be able to make something I’m actually scared of.” Hinata sat up and nodded at you before reaching over to the nightstand to retrieve your arm. “I’m nervous I’ll just be uncomfortable or annoyed and accidentally laugh and hurt someone’s feelings.” He nodded again as he began reattaching the arm to your body.

“That’s fair. You would always laugh at the cheap effects the haunted house on the fourth island had to offer. It was a real mood-killer when I thought I could use the horrors there as excuse to hold your hand.” There’s a faux sadness in his voice and a small pout on his face. He had finished setting up your arm, and you intertwined his warm fingers with your metal ones.

“We’re holding hands now,” you say, bringing your hands up so he could see for emphasis. He gives you a warm laugh and leans in to kiss you. Although you could do without his morning-breath (nap-breath you suppose), his kisses were nothing but magical.

“Are you scared, Kamukura-kun?” You ask, returning the question to him, but not expecting him to affirm the question. Hinata was the bravest, strongest person you’ve ever met after all.

“I’m more concerned someone will get hurt. You know, not a single one of our friends half-ass anything, and if one of them has it in their mind that they’ll scare us, they’ll make it happen.”

You spend another fifteen minutes in bed before getting ready. After you rolled out of the sheets you helped each other get dressed and brushed your teeth and used the washroom. It would be truly unfortunate if nature called while you were in a building with no working toilets. You weren’t bringing much with you; Hinata had slung a small napsack with some packaged snacks, waterbottles, your medications, and a first aid kit around his back and you carried a pillow and a large sleeping bag that you knew could fit you both if you get the chance to sleep. Once Hinata did a final check up, and made sure you both were ready, you headed out, hand in hand.

As you walked by the pool you noticed it was eerily quiet. Normally at 10pm there was usually still some buzz in the compound; someone splashing in the pool, or someone having a late night snack, or the white noise of a muted conversation that was happening in a near by cottage. All that was present was a chilling calm before the storm. Hinata voices this observation and you smile at how in-tune you are with each other. You were so ready to spend the night braving your friend’s attempts at terror with him.

The abandoned building’s door opens with a creak, and slams shut the moment you’re both inside. The loud noise and sudden darkness surprises you and makes you jump, while Hinata turns around to look at the door. The light of dusk was slipping through the uneven wood where the door wasn’t flush against the wall, providing you with just enough light to see what Hinata was doing.

Much like the floor and walls, the door was composed of rotting wood, but there was a small black casing by the lock. You watch as Hinata attempts to turn the door knob, followed by him examining the lock. After a moment he straightens himself back up and takes your hand again.

“I think Souda set up an automatic lock on the door.” You nod and Hinata begins to reassure you before you can begin to worry. “But it’s not like we’re stuck in here or anything, I mean we could still easily break the door down, but I think it would be rude to ignore his attempt to make us feel trapped.”

Under the floor boards you hear whispers followed by a louder hushing noise. You could only imagine someone chiding Souda, while the mechanic says something back in defence as a third person tells them both to be quiet. Based on the smile Hinata’s has, he also heard the people under you and thought something similar.

The dim light from the door is long behind you as you walk deeper into the building. It was difficult to walk the winding hallway with only the wall to guide you along the uneven flooring. More than once you had a misstep that would have resulted in you tumbling forward, if it wasn’t for Hinata’s hand in your hand that wasn’t against the wall. Luckily you both make it to the door of main room in once piece.

When you push the rickety doors open you’re surprised to see a light instead of more darkness. There’s a single lantern in the middle of the room that’s just bright enough to illuminate about a foot of the floor surrounding it. You can’t see the corners of the room, or what’s immediately in front of you, but it provides you with a goal to get to.

You set up next to the lantern, which you noticed is sloppily attached to the floor, a sign that you shouldn’t be moving it about (despite how easily it would be pull it from the floor). You unroll the sleeping bag, and you both take a seat on it rather than in it. Hinata places the backpack he had between you, and offers you one of the snacks and a water bottle. After you decline both he puts the items back in his pack, and exchanges them for your medication.

“You should take these now, I don’t want us to get caught up and forget about it.” You nod and open the pill bottle. Most of the time you take your meds just before bed, typically at midnight and more often than not Hinata is the one who reminds you take them.

It was never weird for either of you, that you were both boyfriends and had a doctor/patient relationship. You liked it because Hinata always knew what you were going through, no awkward explanation needed for any of your behaviours, and Hinata liked it because he could make sure you were doing things like taking your meds. The only downside to your ordeal was that sometimes you would find yourself guilting yourself over how much he worries over you, but Hinata has told you countless times that that isn’t necessary and he loves being the one there for you.

You hand your medication back to Hinata and eye him in the dim light. His tan face is just visible enough so you can make out his handsome features. Where you have hollowed cheeks and sharp edges, he has much rounder characteristics. He has a soft nose, soft cheeks, and when his red and hazel eyes look back at you they’re equally soft.

Just as you begin to lean in to kiss his soft, pursed lips you see movement out of the corner of your eye. You turn your head to where you thought it was, but you couldn’t make anything out in the inky darkness. If there was someone there they had already retreated out of sight. They had only briefly stepped in to the light just long enough to make you feel unrest and let you both know you’re not alone.

You look back to Hinata, who’s still looking to the side. His eyebrows are knotted, like he’s desperately trying to see through the dark shadows. You knew he had a stronger vision than anyone else, but even his inhanced eyes weren’t perfect substitutes for night vision goggles.

“Hinata-kun, I think somone’s-” you stop mid-sentence when he holds up a hand, signalling you to stop talking. He’s listening, you think, trying to pin-point the person’s location. As you walked through the building earlier you noted how each board creaked and groaned under your weight, and it should be possible for Hinata to pick up on the person’s location with his keen ears. You on the other hand, could hear all the creaks and squeaks, but couldn’t differentiate between the noises that were coming from inside the room to the sounds that were coming outside of the room (most likely from some of the others walking through the building, getting ready for your next scare).

After a moment of concentration, Hinata turns to look just over your left shoulder. There’s a smile on his face and for a short moment you’re impressed by his ability to locate a person based on just the soft sounds they make. The moment of pride is lost when behind Hinata you see a figure stepping into the light. They’re looking right at you, and have a grotesquely large smile on their ghostly pale face. Their body is adorned in ripped white cloth and it reflects the dim light of the lantern so they appear to be glowing.

You see right through their face paint and costume and can’t help but chuckle as they raise their arms, the loose cloth swaying with their movements. At your laugh, Hinata turns his head around to see what was amusing. Not expecting someone to be behind him, let alone someone dressed up as a ghost, he tenses and from his siting position he falls into you.

Hinata’s momentum leaves you on your back, but instead of seeing the darkness of the unknown ceiling you’re met with another person looking down at you. This must have been the person Hinata heard, and they’re also sporting a halloween costume, but is more zombie-like compared to the ghost behind you. You laugh at this person too, but unlike the ghost who remained silent, the zombie retorts back at you.

“Hey! You’re supposed to scream, not laugh, I mean, ughghggg,” you recognize the voice to be Saionji’s, and you and Hinata both laugh at her half-hearted attempt of a moan to save her act. The notice the person dressed up as a ghost was now walking around you, just on the outskirt of the circle of light. As they walked they faded in and out of the darkness, and from their airy clothing only occasionally being caught in the light they truly looked ghost-like. It was a cool affect and you would compliment them if Saionji wasn’t still staring you down.

“Aruaghrag!” Saionji says at you, obviously annoyed with your giggles towards her. Her grey skin and fake scars did make her look more frightening than usual, but you still weren’t scared. She’s holding her hands open, but she makes no attempts to bend down and actually grab either of you, so her stance also has little affect on either of you frightened. Despite her lacklustre performance Hinata throws her a bone and tries to play along.

“Komaeda, hold me!” He flips himself over so you’re now chest to chest as he voices his pretend destress. “This zombie wants to eat my perfectly developed brain!”

“Don’t worry Hinata-kun, I’ll use my body to protect you!” You say, matching Hinata’s dramatic tone as you wrap your arms around Hinata’s torso. Maybe we’ll both get lucky and she’ll eat my sick brain and die before she gets her hands on you, you think to yourself, but don’t voice the comment. You’re not entirely sure Hinata would recognize your joke, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you’re not entirely sure how sarcastic the statement is.

Saionji rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. “As if either of you could provide a zombie of my status a filling meal.” She turns and walks back into the darkness, the ghost briefly coming back into view and following her.

There’s some more footsteps and you think your first two terrorizers walked out of the room. You and Hinata sit up, still giggling in the low light. You have a moment to yourself, when you here Saionji, who’s definitely in the hallway, call out in an ornery voice, “They’re all yours, banshee.”

You hardly have the sentence processed when someone who was also hidden away in the room begins to scream and bang the walls. It’s now your turn to move in closer to Hinata, but he keeps you both upright. The high-pitched scream doesn’t let up and they’ve started running back and forth around the room, all while managing to stay out of the lantern’s light. You put your hands to your ears, in an attempt to block out some of the noise, but the attempt is futile. There’s just noise everywhere and it doesn’t let up for a full minute. You reason that the “banshee” must be Ibuki, since no one else would (or would want to) be able to scream and run around non-stop for so long.

After a much too-long period of time, the screams stop and you hear an impossible energetic voice from the direction of the door as she runs away. “These songs and more will be featured on Ibuki’s upcoming album!”

After having to listen to the screamo stylings of Ibuki, Hinata’s light laugh sounds all the more sweeter.

It’s a good half hour before the next attack of horrors hits you.

In the down time you and Hinata shared a few snacks and split one of the water bottles. Hinata asked you multiple times if you were doing okay, more concerned over the potential damage Ibuki did on your ear drums than the possibility of you being scared. You did your best to stop your concerned boyfriend’s worries by reassuring that you were fine and returned the question to him. You share a kiss once you both thoroughly establish you’re fine.

You were both still sitting crossed legged on the sleeping bag, and were just beginning to consider if you should actually get in to the sleeping bag or not when light fills the room. It rises up from the cracks in the floor boards, causing an eerie and incomplete glow. You look at the floor, then back at Hinata. He’s also studying room, now looking at the walls and ceiling to fully examine the room. You notice that save for your few items, the room is completely empty. No chairs or tables and not a single one of your friends.

Nothing happens for a moment and the small wait fills you with more worry and fear than the previous three’s actions combined. Once you know what you’re dealing with it’s easy to reason with yourself that you’re not in danger, but with the threat still unknown your anxiety gets the best of you.

You can hear the machine before you can see its product. A low humming and hissing noise comes from under you, and a second later the room begins to fill with smoke. The lights remain on, and are more of a nuisance then an aid to you, since they give you a false sense of visibility, when really all they do it bounce off the moving fog and obstruct your vision completely.

“Could this be Souda’s failed humidifier?” Hinata asks from beside you. He couldn’t be more than a foot away, but you have trouble making out anything other than a fuzzy outline of his figure, so you can’t see the smile you know he has on his face, laughing at his own joke. You think his right hand is on your left, but you have difficulty seeing that from your sitting position and can’t feel at all with your hand (although sometimes you believe you can feel things with that hand, Hinata has explained to you that you don’t have input sensory nerves to feel with, and that any perceived sense of touch is only from what your mind thinks you should be feeling given the current context of your situation).

“Kamukura-kun?” You ask, bringing your right hand to your left. There is definitely a hand on yours, and for a split second you worry that it’s not Hinata’s.

“I’m right here Komaeda, don’t worry,” he says calmingly as he places his other hand on top of your hand pile. You can see his outline coming closer and his face getting clearer, and you realize a moment too late that he’s leaning in to kiss you. At the realization you jerk your body, and when your lips meet him you’re kissing his nose and he’s kissing your chin, ruining what would be a properly centred kiss. He laughs and kisses your nose again, this time with purpose, as you mumble a “Sorry Hinata-kun,” and he kisses your nose and both cheeks and tells you there’s no need to be sorry, and that you’re forgiven regardless.

You sit like that a bit longer, faces still close enough so you can actually see one another in the fog, and you almost forget that your friends are somewhere, either underneath or around you, biding their time and waiting for the right opportunity to strike a fright out of you.

The first time you feel it you thought you were imagining things, just your anxiety and paranoia catching up to you, but you feel it again and the action is real; someone or something was poking your behind. On an instinct you turn your body around to punch behind you, but your fist it met with nothing but the substance-less fog. When you feel a third poke you realize the prodding had come from under you. Someone, or more likely a few someones, were poking at where your sleeping bag was laid out. It felt blunt enough, definitely not a metal skewer set on murdering either of you, but you didn’t appreciate getting poked in the behind, especially if it was from an unknown person.

You scramble up and step away from the sleeping bag, trying to escape the pokes. Hinata is still sitting and his figure, and even the light from the lantern becomes lost to you.

“Komaeda? Where’d you- ow!” He calls out. There’s more surprise in his voice than pain, but your heart still hurts for you boyfriend. You try to move back towards him, arms extended in front of you, but you’re unsure if you’re actually moving towards where he is. With your luck you’ll walk right out of the room, but you are thankful the room is empty and you only have to worry about tripping on the uneven flooring.

“They’re under the floor!” You warn Hinata. You can still feel the occasional prod at your feet, but you have your shoes on and their thick soles save you from the pain. Hinata had just taken his shoes off before the fog filled the room, and as a result you can hear a lot more stepping and jumping about from where he is in the room.

“I noticed,” he says, and he does sound fairly close, so at the very least you must be heading in the right direction.

It doesn’t take long before you find each other again, but you’re still getting poked at from below and Hinata has to keep moving from place to place so his feet don’t get prodded at. Hinata’s probably less concerned at the immediate threat of a bruise, and is more concerned that the others will find out that his feet are extremely ticklish. The others having that knowledge on Hinata is probably more terrifying than anything you would be presented with tonight. When you accidentally found out (you had thought you were being romantic, taking off Hinata’s socks for him after a particularly long day) Hinata had made you swear to secrecy. In an act of trust you responded by revealing that you were ticklish just about everywhere, and you’ve both kept this information to yourselves since that night.

After about 10 minutes of Hinata dancing about while just about ripping your good arm out of its socket (neither of you wanted to let go of the other) the poking stopped. Hinata takes a deep breath, but doesn’t appear to be notably winded. He does have every SHSL athlete talent after all, and you remind yourself that the majority of non-athletically inclined people can be physical for more than 10 minutes, and that not everyone has the inability to exert themselves like you do.

A second later all the lights, including your lantern turn off. You can hear Hinata take another deep breath, but you recognize this to be the sigh he makes when he wants to be rude, or tell you or one of your ex-classmates off, but in an act of kindness he keeps his salty comments to himself instead of ripping on another.

“Should we sit back down?” You break the silence between you. The fog machine is still hissing under you, but it had become white noise to you at this point.

“We might as well. We can always stand back up if they still feel like being jabbing us. In the meantime I’m going to try to find my shoes. I think I kicked them away when I stood up.”

Together you bend down and crawl, searching for the mesh material of your sleeping bag. Hinata leads the way and once again you find yourself sitting on the sleeping bag, awaiting for what your friends have planned next.

Hinata kisses you once before letting go of your hand to look for his shoes. A loving gesture that tells you he’ll be right back. Although you can’t see Hinata you can hear him shuffling around, crawling and extending his arms out. You feel a hand on yours and he mutters a quick sorry, before he continues his search for his shoes.

A few moments later you feel two hands on your hand again, and you laugh, “That’s not your shoes sorry, it’s still just my right hand.”

“What?” and at his answer your blood runs cold. Hinata’s voice was too far away for the hands to belong to your boyfriend, and you instantly try to retract your hand from the person’s grasp, but it’s for naught. Whoever it is, they’re much stronger than you, and their hold on you doesn’t falter. You tense, thinking of past memories, and can’t get the scream out of your throat. You feel your brain trying to reason with itself, that this is just one of your friends trying to (and successfully) scaring you, but you can feel your anxieties taking over. Your worry only increases when a third, large hand slaps duct tape over your mouth. You’re still trying to struggle your way out of the person’s grasp, but you feel yourself being lifted by your legs, and you lose your footing as quickly as you lose the small amount of cool that prevented you from having a panic attack. It’s happening again, you’re being kidnapped and taken away, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

“Komaeda?!” Hinata calls through the room, but he’s still too far away. You thrash about and try to use your free hand to remove the duct tape, but your blunt metal fingers don’t have fingernails to get under the tape, and one of your captors quickly grabs your hand from you, rendering you completely helpless.

You’re frantically breathing in and out of your nose, desperately trying to calm your heartbeat and mind. You try again to remind yourself that this is just your classmates pulling an ill-humoured prank and that you’re not getting kidnapped, but as you feel a tight cloth being placed over your eyes, your trauma kicks in at an unbearable level. Suddenly you’re ten years old again, getting shoved into bags and believing you would die at any moment. Your only serenity is that your limbs weren’t yet tied together, and you could still thrash about in your captors’ arms.

You can feel that you’re being moved, being taken away from the room, away from Hinata, but you can’t see where. You can hear the creaking of wood, and Hinata calling your name again but it’s muffled, as if it had to pass through a wall, maybe even mutliple walls. Where have they taken you? Were you out of the building or in one of the side rooms? What were they planning on doing to you? Questions filled your mind and you didn’t like any of the possible answers your mind supplied you with. You’re crying and you can feel your tears getting caught in your blindfold and your snot falling over the duct tape and you just want this to be over.

A crash can be heard in the distance and you continue to try to free yourself of the strong arms holding you in place. A second, closer crash quickly follows and Hinata is shouting your name, and he sounds truly scared. The entire building is groaning and you’re unsure if Hinata is fighting someone or if he’s breaking down walls in an attempt to find you. Since your mind considers your own safety and wellbeing a lost cause, your heart hurts for Hinata, and you hope with all your might that he stays safe.

You hear a third and final crash, and feel a blunt weight striking your face. Before you lose consciousness you think to yourself that you love Hinata, and hope that somehow, by some force, that if you don’t get the chance to tell him as much again, he feels your love.

When you come to you’re still in the abandoned building, but you’re back in the main room, curled up against yourself in the sleeping bag you brought. There are five or six bright lights placed around the room, and you sit up, using your right hand to support you. You notice the first aid kit is out of the backpack and open, and you remember getting hit in the face. You start to bring your left hand to face when you realize it’s been detached. In a panic you sit up straighter to grab the knapsack, relief washes over you when you feel the cold metal. You also feel your jacket and shoes and figure someone must have stripped you of them in an attempt to make your unconscious body more comfortable.

No longer using it to support yourself, you bring your right hand to where you were struck earlier. It stings like a bruise and it’s wet, and you’re thankful that when you pull your hand away there’s no blood on your finger tips, just a clear substance you assume is some sort of disinfectant for your wound. You wipe the slimy gel from your hand to your jeans and you hear voices coming from the closed door of the room.

You can hear Hinata, talking sternly (perhaps angrily or annoyed was a better descriptor) to an apologizing Akane and Nidai. It takes a moment for you to focus on their words rather than just hearing their sounds.

“-recreate Komaeda’s trauma?”

“Koizumi, and Saionji said that you both weren’t phased by their monster costumes, and we could hear you guys just complaining about Ibuki’s shrieks. Not to mention you guys weren’t really separated for that long in the fog. We had to up our game if we wanted to freak you both out.”

“Well congratulations, you did it. We’re both all freaked out.”

“But the others-”

“You guys took it way too far. But whatever, we failed your test of courage, I don’t care anymore. Tell Souda and Saionji and everyone else they can shove it up their ass if they have any further comments.”

A moment passes and the athletic pair’s voices are fainter when Akane saying something about how Gundam would be pissed and Nidai reassuring her that the animal breeder would find other uses for a trained hoard of island fruit bats. When the door opens Hinata still has his face curled in an angry expression and he’s talking to himself, probably saying the ruder comments that he was too polite to say to Akane and Nidai’s face. When he sees you he stops and perks up, and he’s kneeling by your side in two quick strides.

“Komaeda, you’re up! Are you okay? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Kamukura-kun, I’m-” you start to apologize, planning on saying you’re sorry for ruining the night with your silly memories, that you shouldn’t have let them get the best of you, or something else equally unfair to you, but he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry about everything. I knew someone would take it too far, I should have been more prepared,” he shifts his gaze down from your eyes to your cheek. “And I’m really sorry about that.”

You bring your hand back up to your cheek, but he stops you before you can touch the wound again. “What did you do?” You know Hinata would never purposely hurt you, and you don’t mean to sound accusatory. “Do you have a mirror?”

“No, uh, they had you in a side room by the front door, and well, I broke down the door? I broke down a few actually.” That would explain the crashes you heard earlier, and looking at Hinata’s hands you notice his knuckles have a few splits on them, but they were either not too big to begin with or his accelerated healing already had him mostly patched up. “A rouge piece of wood hit you when the door came down.”

You nod and reflect on this. It was true that with Hinata’s SHSL Luck your own luck was often muted, leaving you with only mildly good and bad luck, but it felt like your bad luck was alive and well tonight. You don’t voice this to Hinata though, he looks like he’s emotionally exhausted and you wouldn’t want to give him another strain.

Noticing your silence, Hinata speaks up. “Hey, let’s go back to the cabin and get some good sleep. It’s not much past one.” He begins to reach for the bag, maybe to get your shoes or jacket, but your reach out to his arm and stall his movements.

“I don’t mind just staying here,” you say, bringing your hand down and patting the sleeping bag, encouraging Hinata to sit down. “Traditionally it’s the staying over night part that’s important to the test of courage anyways.”

“I’m not sure how traditional it is to tell off the surrounding spirits,” he says to counter you, but he makes no further attempt to leave. Instead he begins to loosen his tie, telling you that you will be staying the night.

“Besides, I’ve had to sleep in here before, and it’s not that bad,” you eye Hinata as his nimble fingers undo his shirt’s buttons, distracting you from continuing your thought. You bring your eyes back to his when his undershirt becomes fully visible. “As long as you’re here Hinata-kun, I don’t think I can classify anywhere as bad.” He smiles and kisses you in response to your shameless flirt.

You shimmy out of your pants, socks, and t-shirt, leaving you in just your undergarments and watch as Hinata, who had also removed his shoes and pants and turned off the surrounding lights, crawls in after you. Like always, he’s warm against your body and you love the heat that washes over you as he hugs you from behind.

“I love you Kamukura-kun. I was so worried, I thought I’d never get to tell you that again,” you whisper to the open air. The soft breath on your neck turns to slow kisses and he squeezes you again.

“I love you too.” It’s said with a fading voice, and you’ll talk more about your panic attack in the morning. He doesn’t need to tell you that for you to know that to be true and you appreciate how he takes the time in his exhausted state to tell you he loves you.

As you find yourself drifting to sleep you reaffirm what you said earlier to yourself; having your boyfriend pressed against you made this location, in all its hard and uneven glory, as warm and comforting as your bed. Here, wrapped in Hinata’s strong, protective arms you dream not of your reawakened trauma from the past, but the future you have together with your loving boyfriend.

[joeybelle]

Starlight - Chapter 14

Relationship: Cassian Andor x Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Tags: Pre-Rogue One, Romance, Adventure, Canon Compliant Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Foul Language, Explicit Content :)

Samarkand is from now on under Imperial protection. Please stay calm.”  

“Why are there Imperial ships on Samarkand?” Cora asked, her back against a wall, Cassian’s body protectively shielding her.

“Remain non-violent and no one will be harmed.”  

“I don’t know,” he said in a low voice, watching the people in the streets scurry for cover. Blaster shots could be heard in the distance, making the hair raise on the back of her neck. “We have to get out of here fast.”

“Please take shelter until the Imperial troops have secured the perimeter.” 

He grabbed her arm and guided her away from the crowd, walking as fast as they could through the narrow lateral streets. This was a side of Samarkand Cora hadn’t seen until now. If the rest of it looked shabby, the back alleys were positively filthy. They had to be careful not to walk into the piles of trash that just lied on the pavement or get bitten by vermin. When Cassian decided they were far enough, they hid under a low balcony and he took out the com-link, contacting K-2SO.

 "There seem to be a lot more stormtroopers than any of us anticipated,” came the droid’s mechanical voice.

“Did they take over the spaceport?” Cassian asked, hastily. “Can we still leave the planet?”

“Probably. If you were here, we could leave right now,” he said in what Cora could recognize as being a condescending tone. “They seem to concentrate their efforts on taking on the streets. But who knows for how long.”

“That’s good. Keep the engines running, we’re coming to you.” He seemed to want to turn off the com, but then changed his mind. “If we’re not back in one hour,” he added, “leave without us.”

 “I’m not leaving without you,” the droid scoffed.

“If we’re not back in one hour, take off without us,” he repeated, more convincing this time. “We can hide until they send someone after us.”

 “The odds of surviving in case of…”

“Do as I say!” he barked and turned off the com.

“Do you think we’ll make it in time?” Cora asked, hoping her voice wasn’t shaking. She was just starting to get scared. It all changed so fast, her brain didn’t get the chance to fully process the situation until now.

“Yeah, we will.” He tried reassuring her with a smile, but despite that, she could still see his face clouded by worry. “But we have to move fast.”

They took off in a hurried pace, taking only the most secluded alleys, avoiding to go out in the open. They kept quiet, often listening for the the sounds of battle and taking a detour if it seemed like their path would lead them directly to it. When they hit a dead end, they climbed on the roof of a small building.

The city looked desolating. While just a few hours earlier the streets were brimming of life, now they were deserted. The shops had been closed and the colourful stalls full of merchandise were nowhere to be seen. The neon ads that lit the streets at night had been turned off, leaving the city bleak and grey. Only closed doors and barred windows everywhere. In the pale light of morning, the city looked dead.

They kept walking on the roofs for as long as the terrain allowed them. She had no idea where they were, so she trusted Cassian to bring them to their destination. Once again she realized that she was useless in this war they were fighting. Without him, she would have probably cowered in fear and died in an alley sooner or later, unable to fend for herself. The blaster felt heavy on her hip.

“Get down!” Cassian urged, pulling her behind a parapet. He fished a pair of macrobinoculars out of his backpack and sneaked a peak over the wall. Cora waited silently until he let her look too.

In one of the main streets there was a fight taking place between stormtroopers and a group of people dressed in dark grey. From what she could see, their clothes didn’t have any military insignia on them. “Who are they?” she asked, handing the binoculars back to Cassian.

“They’re the local militia,” he explained. “The planet’s unofficially ruled by a smugglers’ guild, but they have all the actual power. There’s no military force, or any other line of defence besides this militia.”

“Do you think they’ll be able to resist the attack?”

“I doubt it,” he said, zipping up his backpack. “Let’s go.”

They climbed off the building and took another detour. Whichever direction they went in, they seemed to always be just one step away from getting into a fight. Cassian’s hand never really left the blaster, being prepared to retaliate at any sign of danger. Fortunately, and this was only thanks to him, they didn’t run into any stormtroopers.

When the spaceport finally came into view, Cora allowed herself a sigh of relief. She could see ships taking off and leaving the planet, so she felt like they’d made it. The sound of an explosion made her realize that she had relaxed too soon.

“K! K!” Cassian yelled over the com, as they were running towards the spaceport. There were no stormtroopers in sight, so they risked going in the open.

 “They seemed to have changed their mind about the spaceport once someone blew up one of their transport shuttles,” K replied, a bit too calmly.

“Are you alright? Are they attacking the ships?” Cassian asked.

“The ship is fine. They’re currently engaged in a fight with a bunch of smugglers and seem to take on anything that moves, but don’t attack the ships directly,” he said. “But I guess that isn’t so good for you. Do you want me to cause a distraction?”

“No! You stay on the ship and wait for us!” he barked, before turning off the com.

Cassian readied his blaster, so Cora did the same, even though she doubted she’d be of any use. She feared she’d only be a burden to him, but he looked at her gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s not that big of a deal,” he tried reassuring her. “We just have to stay outside of their firing range and move as silently as possible. It’s worked for us until now,” he smiled.

“Well, I hope you’ll be just as lucky from now on,” she smiled back, but only for a second, as worry took its place.

“What makes you think I’m the lucky one?”

“You don’t think it’s me?”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “We have to get going,” he said, his smile vanishing in the blink of an eye. He was Captain Andor once again. “Stay behind me, but try not to fall too far behind,” he instructed. “If I tell you to duck, you duck. If I tell you to run, you run. If I tell you to run to the ship and leave me behind, you do that, understood?”

Cora didn’t like where this was going. She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but her mouth was dry. He was asking her to leave him behind if anything happened and save herself, but she knew she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t just leave him if he was injured. It was her duty as a doctor to never abandon someone in need of help.

“Understood?” He must have noticed her avoiding the question, so he insisted. Eventually she nodded. It was easier to lie when she didn’t open her mouth. “Good. Listen to me and everything will be alright.” But she was afraid.

She followed him, the blaster in her hands, her heart somewhere in Limbo. She could hear the shots and the explosions becoming louder and louder but she kept repeating to herself that she had Cassian, so everything was going to be alright. She had fought space pirates a while back and lived to tell the tale, so she was probably gonna make it this time too.

Once they entered the spaceport, they took the most roundabout way towards the ship. They stayed as far as possible from the fight, walking in the shadows, hiding behind the ships that still remained docked. Cora kept her eyes down. She didn’t want to see all the people who were being wounded that she couldn’t help. She just wanted to leave the planet already, and she was blaming herself for delaying the takeoff so much because she selfishly wanted to spend time with Cassian.

Their tactic of crossing the spaceport unseen would have worked if it weren’t for the AT-ST that joined the battle and started shooting at the docked ships. If until then the smugglers seemed to have a slight advantage, with the addition of the Scout Walker, the tables seemed to have turned.

With their cover literally blown to pieces, they had no other choice but to run in the open. Cassian was shooting while he was running, trying to stay between the blasters and Cora, dragging her along when she was falling behind.

The U-Wing was getting closer and closer, and Cora hoped that they would make it. The ship had the engines already running and the lateral door was open, so the only thing they needed to do was to reach it and they were out of there. Or at least, it would become Cassian’s job to bring them out of there.

But a stray blaster shot hit her back. The pain was white and searing hot, burning and seeping into her bones. For a moment she lost consciousness, waking up on the stone floor, with Cassian running back to her. She wanted to scream and tell him to go, to leave without her. But she had no power to do it. Her vision was blurry. She didn’t want him to leave either, she didn’t want to die alone.

“It’s alright, it’s ok,” he hummed in her ear, holding her by the shoulders and helping her in a sitting position. He looked at her wound and Cora could see the colour drain from his face. “It doesn’t look that deep. Can you feel your legs?” he asked, and Cora wondered how bad it actually was. The adrenaline rush had taken over and she didn’t feel that much pain.

She tried moving her legs and was relieved to notice that she could. She smiled at Cassian. It meant that her spine wasn’t affected, or at least, it wasn’t that badly affected. She tried standing up, holding onto his shoulders for support, but her legs felt like jelly. He helped her out of the firing line, placing her down behind the smoking body of a ship. She could feel the blood slowly dripping.

“Do we still have time to get to the ship?” she asked, her voice weak, still clinging to his jacket.

He looked around. “Yeah,” he said, but didn’t sound too convincing. “We could…” The AT-ST came into view, shooting at another row of docked ships, getting dangerously close to their U-Wing. He looked at the ship, then looked at Cora and took the com out.

“K! Take off! Leave now!” he yelled. “K!”

“The AT-ST is getting closer, but you could still make it if you hurry,” K said.

“We can’t make it. Leave without us!” The AT-ST turned his attention to the ship closest to their U-Wing and fired. “Leave already!” he yelled in the com, and Cora saw the ship finally take off without them. It narrowly avoided the shots fired by the walker, but in the end it left unscattered.

“We have to get out of here and find a safe place. Can you walk?” he asked, his hands back on her shoulders.

“I think so,” she said, trying to get herself together.

“Ok, get ready,” he said, and fished a flash grenade out of the backpack. He set it on a timer and threw it.

He helped her up before the grenade detonated, placing one of her arms around his neck for support. He held her close, careful not to touch the wounded area, and guided her away from the fight. When the grenade exploded making a loud noise and lighting the room up, they used the ensuing chaos to slip out of the spaceport unseen.

Back on one of the deserted alleys, they found a hidden spot to rest a little. Now that the initial shock had died down, she realized that her injury wasn’t that bad. Yeah, it hurt like hell and it was still bleeding, but the quantity of blood wasn’t significant and the pain was superficial. It was probably just a graze, but it had incapacitated her at a crucial moment. Cassian had walked around for hours with broken ribs and a gushing wound and it didn’t stop him.

“Give me an emergency patch,” she told him, awkwardly twisting and shoving a hand under her clothes, trying to at least feel the wound if she couldn’t see it. “I need to stop the bleeding.”

“What are you doing?” he asked, slapping her hand away from the wound. Her hand returned smeared in blood.

“I need to know what’s going on,” she whined, but he hoisted her up once again.

“I’m gonna patch you up, but we can’t do that here,” he said, and Cora noticed a little tremble in his voice. “We’re too exposed. I know a place, do you think you can walk?”

“Yeah.” Now that the blasters weren’t shooting around her head, she was feeling a lot calmer. “Let’s hurry.”

They started walking again, this time a lot slower than before, with Cora’s injury holding them back, but they were still leaving the spaceport behind pretty fast. Cassian wasn’t looking as self-contained as he did just a while back. He was paler than usual, and kept looking at Cora as if expecting her to just fall down and die any moment. His hand never left her back, even though she didn’t need his help holding her up anymore.

They reached a building that looked deserted, with broken windows and no door. It looked even more deplorable than the rest of the buildings, if that was even possible. What confused her, she noticed, was that this was the only building she’d seen until now that was completely deserted.

“Space is very valuable here on Samarkand,” Cassian explained, as they took the stairs up to the attic. “So not that many places are abandoned.”

“So what’s wrong with this one?” she asked, curious.

“It’s haunted.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“I’m not. People here are surprisingly superstitious,” he laughed. “Right now, that works in our favour.”

He picked the lock on the attic door in mere seconds. The room was in a much better condition than the rest of the building: it was relatively clean and dry and it had intact windows. A mattress on the floor indicated that someone was crashing there occasionally. She assumed it was Cassian.

He closed the door behind them and dragged the mattress to the middle of the room, asking Cora to sit down. He looked outside the window for a brief moment, probably to make sure that no one had followed them, then took out the medipack.

Taking off her clothes took a little effort and a lot of help from Cassian, but he didn’t seem to mind. Left only in her bra, the cool air hitting her skin made her shiver. Her top was bloodstained, and the jacket, her precious jacket, had a hole in it.

She tried once again to touch the wound when she thought Cassian wasn’t paying attention, but he stopped her. She snorted, frustrated. She hated not knowing how bad it was.

“I’ll patch you up,” he said, taking a seat behind her. He took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

“How bad is it?” she asked, trying to look over her shoulder. When she couldn’t see anything, she instinctively tried to reach for the wound again, but Cassian grabbed her hand and placed it back in her lap, holding it there. She could feel his shirt brushing the skin on her shoulder, and it made her hyper aware that she was almost half naked in front of him. “Cassian,” she groaned.

“I’ve already told you, it’s not a big deal,” he said, running his thumb over her fingers. “Don’t you trust me to do this?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you…” she mumbled. “It’s just that I hate not being able to do it myself. It makes me feel helpless.”

He let go of her hand, opened the medipack and started cleaning the wound and the blood around it. “Well, you have no choice but to let me do it this time,” he said. “You’ll have the pleasure to assess my first aid knowledge, since you once accused me of knowing nothing.”

“That’s all your fault for not knowing that emergency stitching is just that: emergency stitching,” she scolded. “By the way, how did you imagine you’d heal without any medical help?”

“I’ve survived worse,” he said, and then concentrated on her injury. “You’re really lucky. I’m not a doctor, but it doesn’t look deep at all. You’ll be needing stitches, and it’s probably going to scar, but you’ll be fine.”

“I don’t understand how being shot by a blaster counts as being lucky?”

He chuckled. “A few centimeters deeper and it would have hit your spine. That’s really just a matter of the angle of the shot. If they held the blaster just one centimeter to the left…”

“You’re not helping!” she laughed. “Just shut up and disinfect it. I’m gonna get stitches when we get back.” If we ever get back, she thought.

“Don’t you want me to stitch it?” he asked, and Cora couldn’t tell by his tone if he really intended to do that or he was just joking.

“No, Captain. I trust you with the blaster, but I really don’t trust you with that needle,” she said. “Just disinfect it, smear it in bacta and put a patch on it and I’m good. The disinfectant is the purple bottle, by the way,” she instructed, pointing at the medipack.

“Cora,” he said, stopping whatever he was doing, “I got this. I’ve done it a million times before.”

“I know, I’m just… micromanaging,” she said, looking at her fingernails. There were still traces of blood on her hands.  

“Alright then, would you like passing me the disinfectant?” he said.

Cora took the medipack and handed him the bottle over her shoulder. She felt a little more in control now that she had the first aid kit in her hands. She felt like she was actively doing something, as opposed to just waiting for him to finish, and that eased her anxiety a little.

“Is this your first blaster wound?” he asked, as she hissed from the burning sensation given by the disinfectant.

“No, I shot myself in the leg once before,” she laughed at the memory. “But I guess this is the first one that isn’t self inflicted and completely accidental. My first real battle scar.” It sounded awesome until she realized one thing. “I’ll look like shit in a bikini!”

He laughed. “I doubt it.”

“Is that a compliment, Captain?” she asked, smiling cheekily at him over her shoulder.

“Maybe?”

He worked fast and clean. Even though she couldn’t see what he was doing, and after he administered the local anesthetic she couldn’t feel anything either, she knew he didn’t lie about doing this plenty of times before just to make her feel better. She could sense it in the way he moved, it was muscle memory. She still told him what to do, even though it was clear that he didn’t need the instructions.

“Now press on it tightly, and hold until it seals,” she said, as he placed the waterproof patch over her wound. She sighed, relieved. They had done everything that could be done so now her brain was at peace. Somewhat. She had other things to worry about. Like the fact that they may not leave the planet soon (or ever). Or that she could feel his fingers pressing into the skin above the patch, reminding her how his hands once roamed freely under her clothes.

He seemed to remember the same thing, because she could feel his fingers inching upwards, idly caressing her skin. Even though the contact between them was minimal, she still felt enveloped by his warmth. One finger was brushing against her spine as his hands traveled towards her shoulders, giving her goosebumps. She leaned into his touch, but it was a mistake, because he seemed to realize what he was doing and took his hands away.

“Umm…” he muttered, shifting away from her. “You’re all done.”

“Thanks,” she said, pulling the bloodstained shirt over her head. It was a little gross and definitely unhygienic, but she had no other choice. She was supposed to be a badass smuggler who shouldn’t be queasy. She grabbed her jacket and sighed, poking a whole hand through the charred hole in the fabric. “I really liked this jacket,” she complained, before putting it on.

“I think we can get you another one, if you’d like.”

“I don’t think General Draven would give me one for free, as a reward for getting shot on a mission…” she shrugged.

“Probably not,” he laughed. “But we can ask the guys in Storage. If we ask them nicely…”

They both jumped at the piercing sound made by the com. Cassian hurried to turn it on.

“The situation on Samarkand seems to become increasingly unstable,” came K2’s voice from the small device. “I see more and more locals organize into groups and start to retaliate. I’d advise you to leave immediately. I’ll be waiting for you at the old spaceport up north. It’s currently pretty silent here.”

“I thought I told you to leave without us,” he shouted into the com.

“I did exactly as you told me,” the droid said, calmly. “You told me to leave, you didn’t tell me to leave the planet and go back to base.”

“Semantics,” he growled.

“Very important. You wouldn’t want to be misunderstood.” Cora couldn’t help but smile at the cheekiness. “Anyway, I’d advise you to hurry. Ours isn’t the only ship docked here.”

Cassian seemed to think about it for a minute, the lines between his brows deepening. He got up and looked out the window, silently assessing the situation. “Give us two hours,” he finally said. “If we can’t reach your location in two hours, leave without us. And this time, you leave the planet and go back to base, no tricks. Understood?”

 “Understood,” the droid agreed, and the line went dead.

It seemed there was still hope for them. As long as Cassian was with her she wasn’t that afraid, but she still felt like this whole situation could have been avoided if she hadn’t insisted to spend more time on the planet. She was making things difficult for him, so she just wanted to go back to base and call it a day. She was sure that General Draven would yell at her for the rest of her life, but she took responsibility for that.

Cassian had taken out the macrobinoculars and was looking out the window. “I see two sets of stormtroopers patrolling. I think we’ll lay low for a while. I don’t think we should risk getting into a fight.”

“Do you think they’ll let us leave?” she finally asked what had been bothering her for a while now. “I assume they have a star destroyer up there and TIE fighters. Do you think they’d let us just leave the planet and go into hyperspace?”

“Yeah, they will,” he said, and seemed quite certain of it.

“What makes you so sure of that?”

“I assume they want to take control of the planet, not wipe it out, otherwise they would have used a different tactic,” he explained. “Most of the people you saw on the streets today aren’t locals, just like us. It would make no sense to just imprison them all. Most of them are rich citizens of the Empire that just came here to have a little fun. Yes, most of the businesses on Samarkand are illegal, but it would bring the Empire a good deal of money if they were under their protection.”

“So they’ll just let them go in the hopes that when they come back and spend more money, but in this case, the taxes would go to the Empire?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s a good business. Besides, I don’t think there are enough stormtroopers in the city to fight them all right now. They can be very dangerous people and who knows what illegal weapons they’re hiding on their ships. If they all took up arms, there wouldn’t be much of an invasion. The stormtroopers just scare them off and let them leave, so they only have to deal with the locals and the militia.”

“So why don’t they?”

“What don’t they what? Fight back?”

“Yeah, why doesn’t everyone just fight the Empire if they hate it so much? This is the perfect opportunity to fight it.”

He looked at her and smiled. “Is the Rebellion finally getting to you, Doctor?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“You’ll soon become more dedicated to the cause than General Draven,” he joked, and Cora glared at him. “First of all, they would need someone to organize them,” he said, taking a seat besides her on the mattress. “Right now, they’re just a bunch of people, each with their own agenda. For them to work together, you’d have to offer them something big enough for them to risk their lives for. Most of them live well enough in the middle of the Empire, there’s no reason to fight it. Plus, they probably hate each other, so you’d have to convince them to put aside their differences and work together, and you won’t be able to do that today, in just a few hours.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she replied, thoughtful.

“You could still try to do it,” he laughed. “Cora, Defender of Samarkand. It has a nice ring to it.”

“I’m not sure they’d listen to someone with my pedigree,” she shrugged. “You do it.”

“I don’t think they’d listen to me either. Not really the hero type,” he said. “But even if they did, and let’s say we got them all to work together and we stopped this invasion, it would be a wasted effort on the long run.”

Cora raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“They’d only send a bigger fleet next time and wipe the whole planet out. We’d win a battle, but in the end we’d lose the war.”

“So what do we do then? We just let them take over, one planet at a time until there’s nothing left?”

“No, that’s why the Rebel Alliance exists,” he said, getting up and moving to look out the window once again. “We fight the Empire and we actually do some damage. Instead of fighting back now and risking to be completely wiped out, Samarkand can help the Rebellion and sabotage them from the inside. One planet as tiny as this one can’t fight the Empire on its own, but it can help us face this common enemy and win in the end.”

Cora couldn’t help but smile. He looked so full of passion when he spoke about the cause. There was a fire in his eyes that burned brighter than what she’d seen before. There was hope, and there was determination. Now she understood why he hated her so much in the beginning. It probably wasn’t personal, he just hated what she represented.

“Well, Captain, I think I now know why you can’t get a girl,” she laughed.

“And why is that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, pretending to be seriously interested in what she was about to say.

“You’re in love with the Rebellion,” she said, getting up and stretching her legs. Her back wasn’t hurting anymore, but the sensation of numbness was strange. Still, it didn’t bother her when she walked.

He smiled, but it was a sad smile, and Cora realized she might have made a mistake with her joke. “You may be right this time,” he said, and went back to looking out the window.

She joined him by the window, looking at the depressing city. “It’s not a bad thing, you know,” she said. “Being passionate about what you do. We wouldn’t be having a rebellion if there weren’t people who really loved the cause.” She smiled. “Do you think we can win?”

“Maybe, one day. But not today. Today we have to survive.”

They looked out the window for a while, Cassian actually scouting the city, while Cora was just lost in her thoughts. She realized that she had been really selfish. She didn’t leave the Empire because she wanted the world to be a better place, she just wanted to be free and safe. The world could have gone to hell for all she cared, if her tiny little world remained unshaken. But there were people like Cassian who were sacrificing the quality of their lives to fight for people who they didn’t even know. Who were in this fight because they made a choice, who could leave any time but every day, they chose to stay and keep fighting, because they hoped for a better future for everyone.

She looked at her bracelets and wondered, if tomorrow they took them off, would she leave? Would she still be here, with Cassian, trapped on a planet that was slowly being taken over by stormtroopers, if she had the opportunity to just get away and live peacefully someplace else? She liked to think she would. Maybe she didn’t care that much about the Rebellion, or about the world, but she cared about him. So she decided she was going to stay, no matter what happened next, because the Alliance was important to him and he meant a lot to her.

“I think we can go now,” he said, breaking her train of thought. “They seem to have left the area. Are you feeling up for it?” he asked, and Cora nodded. “We can stay here for a while and wait for a rescue team to come pick us up if you’re not feeling ok.”

“Stop coddling me, Cassian, I’m ok.”

“Just making sure,” he said, gathering the rest of their stuff and shoving it back in the backpack.

The streets were silent, but the air felt tense. She could see where fights had taken place, like burn marks scattered throughout the city. Occasionally she could see the brief, fearful gazes from behind the curtains of the people who had made Samarkand their home. It might have been filthy and depressing, but for some this was the only place they had ever called ‘home’. And now they could be close to losing that, because greed was stronger than compassion in the Empire.

With her back numb and adequately patched Cora could move a lot faster than before and Cassian didn’t have to keep an eye on her anymore. However, she still caught him throwing her quick glances from time to time. For someone who treated all his injuries, even the more severe ones, like they were nothing serious, he certainly seemed to worry about the graze on her back. He probably considered her quite incompetent for getting injured so stupidly, and she hadn’t proved him wrong until now, but she also felt like he was genuinely worried about her.

They reached the old spaceport without any incidents. Most of the troops seemed to be concentrated in the center of the city, where the smugglers’ guild had their headquarters, so the streets were rather calm. The spaceport, if you could call it so, was just an open space surrounded by tall walls that looked ready to break down at any moment. Safety wasn’t something that Samarkand inspired, but this was a special kind of safety hazard.

They kept a safe distance and contacted K. He had the ship on the far side of the spaceport, meaning they would have to cross it all to get there. Not surprising at all, there were also other ships docked there, some of which could be a little hostile, Cassian concluded. No stormtroopers were in sight, though.

“So… do me make a run for it?” Cora suggested. “100-meter dash?”

Cassian laughed. “I don’t think that’s the best tactic.”

“It’s the fastest,” she shrugged. “We either reach the ship or we die. Either way, it’s gonna be fast.”

He raised an eyebrow at her, then smiled and shook his head. “Do you have a death wish, Doctor?”

“Not a very well defined one,” she joked, but he didn’t smile this time, listening intently.

“We may actually have to follow your suggestion,” he said, his face serious. “Something’s coming.”

Cora listened, but didn’t hear anything that hinted that there was a battle going on. However, she was going to trust Cassian on this. She was sure he had better hearing than her, or maybe even a sixth sense. He readied his weapon so she did the same, and started advancing towards the spaceport.

They quickened the pace when they reached the gates, a deep thudding sound becoming louder and louder. Before they even knew it, they were surrounded by a bunch of raggedy looking people, running for their lives.

“Run, you two!” one of them yelled, passing them.

“Shit!” Cassian swore and started running, Cora following closely looking over her shoulder from time to time.

The thudding suddenly materialized into the shape of an AT-ST that was apparently following the others. And now, them too, since they were all running in the same direction.

“Fuuuuck!” Cora screamed, trying to run faster. There was nowhere to hide. Besides the few ships awaiting their owners, there was no place to hide.

They ran in zig-zag, trying to avoid the walker’s laser cannons. Cassian and a couple of others kept shooting back, and occasionally threw a grenade at it, but Cora focused on running. When she had joined med school she thought she was done with running for good, but here she was, hoping she wouldn’t trip and get crushed under the walker’s feet.

The AT-ST was catching up fast, especially since the terrain was working in its favour, and Cora could see its shadow almost covering her. The others had scattered, or had been shot, she didn’t pay attention, so the walker was left chasing her and Cassian. However, they had somehow managed to disable one of its cannons, and damage the other one, but even with the decreased accuracy it was still so close to blowing them to pieces.

Cora’s heart was beating a million times a minute and her lungs felt like they were on fire, but she kept running. She knew that if she stopped, she’d be dead. The only thing that kept her alive was Cassian who was pulling her towards one of the grounded ships. She hoped it would shield them until they found a way to take the walker down. She tried remembering how they dealt with situations like this while she was in stormtrooper training, but she couldn’t recall any scenario in which two people, very lightly armed and armoured, were chased by a nine meter tall war machine.

They were close to the ship, just a few meters away, when she heard a loud bang. She turned her head just in time to see the AT-ST falling towards them. She didn’t have time to react, but Cassian grabbed her by the jacket and threw her forward, under the hull of the ship. She fell down, her legs not working anymore.

Fortunately Cassian had enough time to throw himself besides Cora, before the walker fell over the ship, the crashing sound almost deafening. He grabbed Cora and pulled her under him, shielding her as much as he could. She knew that if the ship gave in it would crush them both under its weight, but it was comforting having Cassian close. At least she wouldn’t die alone. She put her hands around his neck and pulled him closer.

Surrounded by the the ear-shattering noise, in a state of detachment from what was going on around her, Cora had no idea if she was dying or not. Only when the noise ceased and she felt a foul smelling liquid dripping all over her did she have the courage to open her eyes. Jet fuel, she noticed, probably mixed with engine oil by the colour. She turned her head before it got into her eyes.

“Are you alright?” Cassian whispered in her ear. She didn’t even try to speak, so she just nodded. “Are you hurt?” he asked again, and she shook her head after wiggling her legs a little to make sure they were still in place.

“You?” she whispered, her voice small and shaky, arms still around his neck.

“I’m ok.” His body relaxed, letting Cora support all his weight for a brief moment, before propping himself on his elbows and looking around. “We have to get out of here before it crushes us.”

The ship had sustained a lot of damage, but even if one of the landing skids had given way under the force of the impact, the other one was still holding, saving both their lives. They scrambled to get out from under it while it was still standing, managing to get drenched in fuel and covered in dust, probably also bruising their elbows and knees. They were alive.

The U-Wing was waiting for them behind the fallen scout walker, K-2 hurrying towards them.

“That was a really close call,” he said, in a deeply disapproving tone.

“Thanks for saving our skin,” Cassian said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Well, someone had to do it.”

“I guess we should hurry,” Cora suggested, pointing towards a squad of stormtroopers who were just entering the spaceport gates.

“Shit!” Cassian cursed and urged them to the ship.

They took off before the stormtroopers had the time to reach them, and Cora could finally breathe freely. Somewhat. She had jet fuel in her nostrils and it was burning. Actually, the chemicals irritated her skin and made it itch. She hoped the patch on her back was still holding, because she really didn’t want to know what jet fuel would do on an open wound.

“K, make the hyperspace jump as fast as you find a safe route. It doesn’t matter where to, just take us out of here,” he said, looking out the viewport at the star destroyer looming over Samarkand. It was the smaller, Victory-class destroyer, so Cora knew the Empire didn’t go all out on this mission. No one seemed to notice (or care), that they had left the planet. They weren’t the only ones anyway, as she could see other ships going into hyperspace. “We have to take a shower before we get chemical burns,” he said, pushing Cora towards the living quarters.

The doors opened and the lights automatically turned on and Cora found herself in a tiny cabin. Tiny was an understatement, as there was barely any space for anything there. There was a table that could be pulled up to make more space when it wasn’t in use. The bed, that looked oddly similar to what she had slept on while imprisoned, was currently pulled up, otherwise she was sure they wouldn’t have enough space to move.

She felt a little awkward intruding into Cassian’s personal space, even though she knew she really needed that shower before she smeared everything in jet fuel or she caught fire. However, it was unusual seeing something as intimate as the place where someone slept.

There was a pair of worn out boots thrown in a corner and a sniper rifle leaning on the wall next to it. A parka and some trinkets were negligently flung on the table, but apart from those, and a few diagrams stuck to the walls, the room looked clean and empty. The cabin of a soldier.

“The shower is in the back,” he said, urging her to go first. “Just throw your clothes on the floor, I’ll get you some clean ones.”

She entered the shower and peeled off the wet and sticky clothes, dropping them into a pile on the floor, kicking them into a corner so she didn’t trip on them. She regretted having to part with the badass smuggler outfit, but she was sure it was already ruined. Maybe she’d find another cool one in Storage, but she knew it would be of no use to her: after another mission that almost ended with them getting killed (even though, again, it wasn’t her fault) she was sure Draven would never let her leave the base. White, medical uniform would be her only outfit for the rest of her life.

The water felt good on her skin, washing away the fouls smelling fluid. She grabbed a bar of soap and thoroughly scrubbed herself, but her skin still felt oily and dirty. Getting it out of her hair was another challenge, the engine oil and jet fuel mix seemed to stick to every strand and even after soaping it a few times still didn’t seem to wash off completely. Fortunately, the patch on her back was still holding.

She jumped in surprise when the door opened and a naked Cassian stepped in. She didn’t expect him to join her, but she realized that she was taking her time with the shower and they were in a hurry. She backed into a corner, leaving as much space between them as possible, even though it almost wasn’t enough for both of them to fit.

Cora was very aware of how close and how naked they were. Cassian had his back turned to her, offering her a little privacy. She knew the right thing to do would be to get out of there as fast as possible, looking away, but the only thing she could do was stare at the way his back muscles moved as he washed himself. She was absent-mindedly clutching the bar of soap in her hand while the water washed down her skin. She was amazed at how fast the adrenaline that was still running through her veins turned into arousal.

“You’ve missed a spot,” she said, making up her mind.

He looked over his shoulder, trying to find the spot he couldn’t reach, but Cora covered it with a soapy hand. He looked her in the eye for a moment, then turned back around, letting her clean it. His skin felt soft under her fingers and even after the dark spot of grease was no more, she still couldn’t take her hand away, letting her fingers follow the shape off his spine down to his waist.

He slowly and hesitantly turned around, as if giving her the chance to stop him. She didn’t. She extended her arm and rested it on his abdomen, right above his semi-erect cock. She felt him tense for a moment, then relax and cover her hand with his. He looked at her for a second, wet hair sticking to his forehead and water dripping from his beard. There was a look of determination in his eyes when he pulled her closer, pressing his lips onto hers in a hungry kiss. She grabbed onto his shoulders, pressing herself into him, finally able to feel his naked skin on hers. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to feel him like this and her body was shivering a little at the contact.

His hands were roaming freely over her body, his fingers over her naked skin giving her goosebumps and making the fluttering in the pit of her stomach increase to the magnitude of a medium tornado. However, the moment he touched the patch he seemed to remember her injury and started to back away.

“Don’t you dare run away now,” she growled in his ear, grabbing his hand and pulling it down to her ass. He chuckled and gave it a playful squeeze, making Cora jump a little and press her chest onto his, before he resumed the kissing and touching and nibbling. Her hand fell down to his cock, squeezing and pumping slowly, making his breath hitch.

The conditions were less than ideal. It wasn’t the time and place for this, a shower module on board of a U-Wing was definitely not designed with sex in mind, but even with water getting into their mouths and the constant risk of slipping and breaking something, they were too immersed into each other to care. They seemed determined to make up for that missed opportunity in the catacombs, so now their hands and lips were freely touching each other’s bodies, trying to draw out as much pleasure in as little time as possible.

A sudden jolt that sent them flying into a corner signalled that they had entered hyperspace. After making sure neither of them was hurt, they decided that shower sex was a fantasy they would have to fulfil another time, on less shaky ground, and reentered the cabin, leaving the shower door open and the water running. The cabin wasn’t designed with sex in mind either, but they were both intent to somehow make this work.

Cassian lifted Cora up and placed her onto the small table, without bothering to make some space first so her ass landed on the blue parka.

“Is there anything that may go up my ass?” she asked, touching the material with her hands, making sure nothing was going to poke her.

“Uhm…” he looked around and picked up a metal tube off the table. “A silencer?” he said, before throwing it on the floor.

“Kinky,” she laughed, and pulled him closer, running her fingers through his hair and kissing him passionately.

He positioned himself between her legs, holding her thighs in a firm grasp. Their foreheads were almost touching and he was looking into her eyes, hesitating for just a second, so she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into an embrace. He buried himself deep into her as she gasped into his ear, pressing herself even closer to him. She could feel his breath on her neck as he let her adjust and then the tiny kisses along the sensitive skin behind her ear.

They were mostly silent, like they were only used to having sex where they risked getting caught. The water still running in the shower was muffling any stray moan or gasp that may have left their lips as they rocked into each other. It wasn’t rough, but it definitely wasn’t gentle. It was primal and needy, their bodies almost moving on their own, finding a rhythm that suited both of them.

It didn’t take long before they found the much needed release, the excitement of the day, the fear and the adrenaline contributing to it. They collapsed into each other’s arms, ragged breaths and heated bodies, their brains floating in the clouds of pleasure. They stayed like that for a while, snuggled up into an embrace, Cora’s fingers idly playing with the hair on the back of his neck. She was feeling drowsy and content in his arms.

Cassian broke the embrace, a little too soon for Cora’s liking. “I have to take us home,” he whispered in her ear, his voice a little deeper than usual.

She nodded and hopped off the table, her knees feeling weak, and her body aching for rest, but she knew there was no time for that yet. She was still wet and without his arms around her, she started feeling cold, but before she started shivering, Cassian protectively wrapped her in a blanket.

She leaned against a wall, patiently watching him get dressed. He was way too energetic for someone who was just coming down from the heights of an orgasm, but she assumed cuddling after sex was something he just didn’t do. No matter how much she wanted to pull him close and hold him there for a while, basking in his warmth, she knew she couldn’t do it. So she just wrapped herself tighter in the blanket and yawned.

“I have to bring us home,” he said once again, putting a stack of clean clothes on the table for her to use. “We’ll have to make a few jumps until we get back, so you can pull down the bed and rest for a while.” She nodded and decided she may actually take him up on that offer, a sort of sluggishness taking over her. “See you later,” he said, and before she could say anything he was out.

Cora smiled. “No kiss goodbye, Captain Andor?” she whispered to herself before going to turn off the water.

*

When Cassian entered the cockpit he noticed that they were no longer in hyperspace. He didn’t feel the ship leaving it, but to his defence, he hadn’t been paying attention. He took a seat on the pilot chair and grabbed his headset.

“You took your time,” K2 criticised him.

“Yeah,” he didn’t deny. There was no point. “Do you have the calculations for our next jump?” he asked, not wanting to delay their arrival at base any longer.

“Where is she?” the droid asked, looking back over his shoulder.

“Resting, I assume.”

“I see.” The droid was curiously looking at Cassian and he didn’t understand why. “You’ve showered,” he said, and Cassian raised an eyebrow. It wasn’t like the droid to state such banalities.

“Yes,” he replied, not knowing where this was going.

“Together?”

“What?” He looked at him wide eyed. He couldn’t have heard them, not with the water running, and not while in hyperspace. Then what? Did he just assume it? That wasn’t like him either. “Of course not,” he denied it, going back to looking out the viewport.

“Right,” the droid said, as Cassian started the procedure to enter hyperspace. “Because that would be highly unhygienic,” he finished.

“Kriff!” Cassian whispered.

Previous chapter

Masterlist

[mst3kproject]

Reptilicus

I defy you to find something in this movie that doesn't qualify it for MST3K.  Giant lizardy monster?  Check.  A musical number that has nothing to do with the plot?  We have that.  Actors who appear to be dubbed despite also appearing to speak English?  The entire cast!  Black and white footage tinted blue in an effort to make it look like it belongs in a colour movie?  You betcha!  Wooden acting?  Beakers of kool-aid standing in for SCIENCE? Foreigners pretending to be Americans?  Toy boats?  Yep, Reptilicus has it all, wrapped up in a bright technicolour package by our old friend, American International Pictures!

It seems tailor-made for the show, and Joel apparently agrees.  I wrote most of this review before I found out that Reptilicus was slated to be the Season 11 debut, and now I’m looking forward to seeing how many of my predictions here come true when the episode hits Netflix on Friday.

SPOILERS: none of them! Not a damned one!

Copper miners on the tundra of Lapland discover a piece of a frozen prehistoric monster in the arctic permafrost (never mind that the scene was shot on a nice spring day in the woods somewhere).  A guy named Sven is charged with bringing the find back to civilized parts for study.  I hope you like Sven, because he's going to keep hanging around for the entire movie, and apparently possesses the same all-purpose security clearance as a Japanese child.  He's still in town when the chunk of monster thaws out and begins to regenerate. Ultimately the regrown beast escapes its tank at the Copenhagen Aquarium and goes on a cartoon-people-devouring, scale-model-smashing rampage.  Because what else is a prehistoric lizard monster going to do with its spare time?

Yep, that's the quality of effects we're talking about here.  I like the windows that appear to be drawn on with crayon.

Being as the movie is set in Denmark, the sign on the building where the monster parts are being kept says AKVARIUM.  I don't know why, but my friends and I used to find that outrageously funny.  Every time it appeared on screen we would all shout AKVARIUM! in obnoxious faux-German mad scientist voices.  Of course, that was years ago.  We're now thirty-somethings with mortgages, children, and assorted professional qualifications – but I bet if we all got back together and watched this movie, it would be exactly the same.  AKVARIUM!

Had the MST3K of the 90s ever seen fit to tackle Reptilicus, I'm pretty sure they would have made some kind of running joke about the AKVARIUM.  I can also imagine them asking Reptilicus if he'd like some coffee with that Danish, the two monsters taking turns on the hexfield to offer competing stories of why Gamera vs Reptilicus fell through, and Dr. Forrester and Frank putting together a 'Visit Beautiful Deep Thirteen' campaign – with or without a lounge act.

It almost feels kind of unfair to attempt any actual analysis of this movie.  Analysis is for movies that have higher ambitions, and Reptilicus really does not.  If I squinted hard enough I might be able to pull something about scientific over-reach or cooperation between nations out of the mess, but whatever I came up with would be sort of a Last Minute 11th Grade King Lear Essay, made mostly out of coffee and bullshit.  All Reptilicus wants is for the audience to have a good time (and maybe to visit Copenhagen), and it does accomplish that even if not quite in the way it wants to.

Rather than talking about what Reptilicus fails at (and believe me, it fails at quite a bit), then, let's talk about how it succeeds.  What we really have here is a very fine example of how having something fun to look at can go a long way towards saving a lousy movie.

When you get right down to it, just about everything in Reptilicus is bad.  The plot is contrived and full of holes – why do we keep Sven around when by all rights he should be back in the arctic doing his damn job instead of hanging around in Copenhagen?  How stupid is just about everybody at the AKVARIUM to let the tail thaw out?  Could they really not come up with a better way to suggest drugging the monster than the old trope about 'somebody offhandedly says I wish we could do Thing and somebody else goes why not'?  How does General Grayson keep forgetting about the monster's regenerative powers so that he starts shooting at it again?

The acting is terrible.  Apparently there's a reason for this – the Danish actors who starred in the production didn't speak any English and had no idea what their lines meant!  That's why everything had to be dubbed over later, which means each performance in Reptilicus is a collaboration between two un-talented actors who were truly less than the sum of their parts.  Worst of all is Carl Ottosen as General Grayson and the uncredited guy doing his voice.  Ottosen almost always looks like he's not entirely sure what he's reacting to, and voiceover guy has only two modes: grouchy grump and solemn declaration.  Sometimes he manages to do both at the same time.  I hate to say it, but the best actor in the movie is probably Dirch Passer as Petersen the Comic Relief Janitor, who has a passable sense of physical comedy.  He almost manages to sell his reactions to things like the electric eel and the microscopic view of his sandwich, even when the jokes themselves aren't particularly funny.

The characters don't have much to them.  Sven is a terrible main character, without charisma or recognizable personality or even any motivation.  He sticks around for the whole movie and spends most of it just standing there watching other people do stuff.  Sometimes he answers phones or acts as a chauffer.  He comes across less as the movie’s hero and more as its administrative assistant.  Grayson's just there to shout orders and complain, but he's still closer to being a proper protagonist than Sven – maybe this is why they have him narrate a few scenes, in an attempt to correct this bizarre oversight.  The professor's two horny daughters never amount to much, and Passer's comedy can't quite save Petersen from being the character everybody most wants to see die (he does not, but at least he's out of the story once the rampage begins).  The Scientists are Movie Scientists, too interested in what they might learn to think about things like consequences and personal safety.

The effects are the opposite of convincing, always drawing attention to themselves as effects rather than contributing to the story.  I've seen some ridiculous movie monsters, but Reptilicus himself (everybody in the movie refers to the creature as male) is right up there in the top ten.  He looks something like a very silly Chinese dragon – a long, skinny, snakelike beast with a forked tongue, a mane of ratty fur down his back, tiny useless legs, and a pair of small wings that are, tragically, never used. Apparently a scene of Reptilicus flying was filmed, but was deemed ‘too unbelievable’ and cut from the film.  The monster's acid-spitting consists of squiggles of green goo that resemble radioactive silly string.  When he eats a farmer, it is represented by an animated cutout of the man in Reptilicus' mouth.

Okay, so I did just talk about how the movie fails, and I could keep doing so for some time.  The comic relief isn't funny. The movie stops for a moment to break into a travel ad.  Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.  The point is, Reptilicus objectively sucks and if it were shot like a modern disaster film, all gritty and gray and trying for realism, it would be insufferable.  Instead, however, it's cartoony and colourful, and while the effects aren't convincing they're always at least creative.  The sets always look like sets, and the models always look like models, but they're elaborate and inspired.  Everything sucks, but movie are a visual medium, so if it's fun to watch the viewers will forgive all kinds of sins.

It's also a perfect example of an important bit of bad movie truth: you can't make a bad movie on purpose, not the good kind of bad movie.  People can try, but they come up with stuff like The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra, which I couldn't even watch all the way through.  A truly enjoyable bad movie is one that's trying hard to be a good movie and fails in just the right sort of ways – an intentional bad movie is the equivalent of a belabored explanation of a punch line that wasn’t that funny to begin with.  The thing that makes Reptilicus so much fun is the same spark that animates Teenagers from Outer Space, or Starcrash, or even Troll 2 – its sincerity.

Reptilicus is one of the most utterly unapologetic movies I've ever watched.  We've all seen movies that seem a bit embarrassed by themselves – remember Being from Another Planet, which wishy-washily tried to be a Serious Movie about Serious People instead of just embracing the fact that it was about a fucking space mummy?  Reptilicus is the opposite of that. It's not ashamed of anything, even in the places where by all rights it should be.  Its monster is an immobile puppet in a scale model, but the shots linger lovingly on every shoddy detail. Peterson the Comic Relief Janitor ought to be painful, but the script is so earnest that he somehow becomes a meta-joke: the very fact that he's not funny is itself funny.  Somebody thought the movie could be used to sell Copenhagen as a tourist destination, so they have the characters tour the city and talk about what a great time they're having.  The movie never gives less than its all to anything it puts on the screen.

So yeah, I love Reptilicus.  It's never boring and it’s frequently laugh-out-loud funny, and there's nothing in it that's either offensive or scary.  There are much worse ways to waste eighty minutes of your life.