#((as opposed to mark simply wanting to take him back to civilization; an idea i NEVER jived with either!))

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

The streets of New Orleans were so quiet and peaceful when Randall and Emily went on their evening walk: The autumn winds were pleasantly chilly, whistling between the branches of the trees and kicking up piles of leaves as they walked along the sidewalk hand-in-hand. Under the light of the moon, under the darkened skies, the world seemed so...quiet. Peaceful. No cars around, the only presence of others being the lights on in the houses they walked past.

It was funny to think about now, admittedly: While most people were winding down at this hour, getting ready to turn in for the night, his and Emily's "day" was only just beginning...!

"Evening!" a man greeted brightly as they walked by, taking Randall out of his thoughts-he smiled and bid the same to the passerby, catching sight of him as he did. A man about his age, with dark hair and bright blue eyes, looking very snappy in his autumn evening wear...

Something gave Randall pause. And if he were paying any attention, the man had paused two, both of them stopping where they stood on the sidewalk, having been struck by an intense feeling of deja vu. There was just something...awfully familiar about the other...!

"Randall?" the man called, a touch hesitantly, as if he were unsure of what his mind was telling him. Looking back to face him, Randall answered, "Dorian?"

With those confirmations, the two men laughed and embraced each other-it was as if no time at all had passed as they hugged, both of them talking a mile a minute, with Randall quick to introduce Emily to Dorian as his wife, something Dorian was extremely receptive of-in fact, he'd just gotten married too.

"Come to my house, I'll explain everything!" Dorian invited excitedly-he had a feeling both of them had some very long stories to tell...

[donutloverxo]

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal​

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the  ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he���d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

[supernaturalnovelsandmore]

Supernatural Novel: The Unholy Cause

Welcome to my review of the fifth Supernatural novel, The Unholy Cause

Author: Joe Schreiber

Timeline: Set after Episode 5.08 Changing Channels but before Episode 5.16 Dark Side of the Moon

Location: Mission's Ridge, Georgia

Synopsis: As the pressure mounts for the upcoming apocalypse, Sam and Dean head to the historic town of Mission's Ridge, GA, where the Civil War is less about the past and more about the present. With interference from Castiel, demons, and Judas Iscariot himself, how can Sam and Dean prevent a major catastrophe from befalling this small town?

Review: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Warning: Spoilers abound!

After the last book, I was really hoping to see an improvement in this one, and boy did I! I've finally hit the Supernatural tie-in novel I was hoping to read from the beginning! It read like an actual episode, I could hear the actors speaking through the character's words, and I really couldn't find anything that contradicted canon.

In addition, the actual storyline was compelling and the side characters interesting. With the other novels I've reviewed, it's taken me most of the day to read them because I kept getting distracted. This one, I read straight through without stopping. I love reading a book like that!

Side note: This novel does dive in to Christian theology and the story of Judas Iscariot (who betrayed Jesus). If you are uncomfortable delving into that portion of Christianity, you may not want to read the book or this review (though my review notes about that will be minimal).

Now, since I don't have any canon vs. non-canon comparisons to make, today's review is simply going to be a list of my favorite scenes and how certain scenes relate to what's going on during this period in Season 5.

Cameo!

Sam and Dean are informed of the case by one Rufus Turner! He's only in it for a brief bit, but he's still funny as heck asking the police to pay his dry-cleaning bill.

We get a nice character introduction of enigmatic (clueless) Castiel who's trying to heal Civil War reenactors who are understandably frightened of him. He's still searching for God at this point, but we also get this nice character beat for him:

"I walked the battlefields of the South a hundred and sixty years ago," Castiel replied, a faraway look entering his eyes. "I moved among the men and brought their souls to glory. And now..." Something moved over his face for just an instant, so rare and brief that Dean almost didn't catch it; a flicker of hope. "And now," he repeated, "I'm healing again."

Of course, Dean has to explain that none of the reenactors actually need healing and he goes back to being determined to find a 'First-order witness' - someone who broke bread with Jesus Christ.

I found this part surprising within the book, but as I thought about it, it made more sense. The TV series has to tread a very careful line with Christianity so as not to offend a bunch of viewers, but the books have a much smaller audience and can take these liberties. Personally, I was fine with it. They didn't go too deep and stuck with the witness being Judas (who doesn't exactly have a great reputation to begin with).

There's a fantastic brotherly moment where Sam shares the sheriff's name (Jack Daniels) and they then go back and forth trying to guess what this Jack person is like i.e., fat vs. skinny, bald vs. hairy...

Dean: "Nam vet. Buford Pussar type. From Walking Tall." Sam: "Deliverance refugee. Civil citations all over his desk."

One of things I love about this book is the brother's relationship. This banter and other character beats really feel authentic as opposed to the prior novels. (I won't spoil what the sheriff is actually like - needless to say, they play a major role in the book.)

Just a few pages later from this great banter, we're back to the drama as Sam and Dean argue about a nightmare Sam had that he can't remember, but which could be relevant to the case.

"What's this about Dean?" Sam demanded, "Is it about you not trusting me? Because if it is, there's not a whole lot of places we can go from there." "Yeah, you're my brother," Dean said. "But you're also Lucifer's prom dress, and if he's seeding your dreams with hints about the master plan, then maybe it might be a good idea for you to look at 'em as close as possible. That's all I'm saying."

And of course, Dean gets concerned about Sam as they split up to cover more ground. It's music to my ears! There are a number of other conversations like this that really emphasize the strained relationship Sam and Dean display in Season 5.

Another surprising character beat is the influence of Lucifer on Sam because as he's doing research at the local historical society, Sam (and the historian) are surprised to find out he can read Coptic, an ancient Egyptian language. It startles Sam and once again emphasizes how different he is.

At a particularly gruesome crime scene (a mass grave), there's a brief moment with Dean that really shines as he looks down on the skeletons in the mass grave and finds a similarity to what he did in Hell:

Because that was what he did after spending years down there, doing what he'd done... Through sheer force of will, Dean shoved those notions aside...Now more than ever he didn't want that experience contaminating the way he looked at the world... not that he had a choice. Hell had been his Vietnam. It had stamped its mark on him for all eternity, and no amount of denial or self-imposed ignorance was going to change that.

There's an additional moment of traumatized Dean that I wish they could have shown in the tv series:

Sam: "Are those bloodhounds?" Dean didn't answer... When Sam finally caught a look at his brother's face, he saw that Dean's cheeks and forehead had gone absolutely white, as if every drop of blood had been sucked away... "They're not hellhounds, Dean, they're just dogs..." Dean didn't answer. He was still listening to the barking and howling noises coming closer, crashing through the undergrowth. He seemed paralyzed by the sounds.

There are more to these Dean passages, (too much to copy), but I really like that we see actual effects of past experiences.

There's also a nice scene with Sam and a young teenager that really highlights his ability to connect with kids around that age (of which we see later in the TV series):

"My brother and I grew up without a Mom, too," Sam said... "It wasn't always easy... Not everybody gets that." "I still dream about her sometimes, you know? Even though I was young when she... when it happened," Nate blinked at Sam. "Weird, huh?" "Are they good dreams?" "Yeah." "Then it's good. That's your way of remembering her."

The last third of the book is very action-oriented and has multiple instances of hurt Sam and hurt Dean, with the requisite caring from each brother.

Once again, I've gone on too long, but I'll end with a couple of favorites: Humor:

The sheriff glanced out the window, (referring to Baby) "And haul that piece of crap car to the impound lot. I don't want it cluttering up my street." "Woah!" Dean snapped, a sudden rush of anger rising in his face. "Watch your damn mouth. You can't just---"

Drama:

"This is blood money," Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out the Shekel. "Bobby says the only way anybody gets their hand on this..." The rest of the sentence was getting stuck in his chest, and he made himself finish it, "is by betraying someone you love." Dean stared at him. "Dean..." "Look," Dean broke in. "Don't get too hung up on it, okay? It doesn't necessarily mean anything," he stood up and brushed off his jeans. "Whatever happens between us, we'll deal with it then..."

Thanks again for reading! I'll be back again next week with War of the Sons!

[pastelsandpining]

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus (Disguise)

The ninth prompt in 12 Days of Christmas by @zelink-prompts​

Prompt List

Words: 1404

Summary: Link takes a small but much needed break, and Sheik takes Hylia’s Day as an opportunity to deliver a gift.

Ocarina of Time, in game

Zelink-mas 2020  l  Masterlist

The title of Hero of Time was a heavy one, but he was doing the best he could as fast as he could, because thousands of lives were depending on him—and most didn’t even know it. He didn’t take any of this lightly and swore over and over again that he would do whatever it took to pull Hyrule from the clutches of darkness.

But he was still only Hylian, whether he bore the Triforce of Courage or not. Sometimes, it was a little much. Sometimes, he wanted to return to his seven year slumber just so he didn’t have to think about the things he’d seen. Yet even as a child, he never turned away.

He still didn’t plan to. 

He just needed a little break, a little air, after his admittedly narrow victory in the Shadow Temple. He was told that the inhabitant of the well that burned through Kakariko and took up residence in the temple was a great evil, but Link didn’t know if he believed that. A place such as that had such a violent history, and whether Bongo Bongo was a manifestation of that darkness or not, he hadn’t felt right slaying it. He’d only done it because he had to. 

But he knew whatever answers he might’ve wanted, he would never hope to find. 

He’d taken up residence in one of the windmill’s large windows, where he could see the well but not the graveyard, and where he could watch the quiet town from above. For being the Hero of Time, he wasn’t aware of how long it’d been. A chill in the air told him it was winter, but he had no further indication. 

Link wouldn’t try to figure it out.

The Spirit Temple is all that remains, he thought as he twisted the Lens of Truth in his hand. Only one temple stood between him and Ganondorf’s grotesque castle. All of this could be over in a few days time, but he couldn’t bring himself to move on. Not yet.

Before, he’d never questioned a thing. Now, he was beginning to wonder what landed Hyrule in this situation to begin with. Most people weren’t evil without reason to be. 

A presence loomed from behind, and Link didn’t have to look to know who it was. There was only one person he knew who could appear and disappear at will.

“Do you remember much about the Celebration of the White Goddess?” Sheik asked. Link shrugged.

“Most just call it Hylia’s Day,” he replied. “Why?”

“Today marks the beginning of the celebration.”

“Not many are in the spirit, then,” Link said with a gesture to the motionless village below them.

“Seven years is a long time. Some no longer believe. Others think it safer to pray in the safety of their homes and speak her name as little as possible. They fear Ganon will overhear.”

“Let him overhear,” Link muttered bitterly. “Then he can face me himself.”

“Your courage, although admirable, is also foolish.”

He opted to shrug again in reply. Any lecture from Sheik was far better than the alternative—loneliness. It made him consider asking the Sheikah about the bloody temple tucked into the graveyard, or the amalgamation at the bottom of the well, or the hollow remains in the tomb of the royal family. 

Thinking of Princess Zelda being lowered into that vat of terror one day made him shudder, so he said nothing instead.

“Do you know the story behind Hylia’s Day?” Sheik asked as they lowered themselves to sit next to him.

“I suppose I should,” replied Link, considering those goddesses they all once believed in were playing puppet with his fate.

“It marks the day that Hylia descended to our world with the purpose of protecting the Triforce—so it’s said. But even a goddess couldn’t keep the power at bay. The Demon King Demise brought forth an army to try and pry it from her hands. Hylia was forced to send her people up to a civilization in the sky, then was tasked with fighting Demise with the aid of the very first of the heroes. Yet instead of her victory, we celebrate the very idea of her.”

“It’s easier to celebrate the idea of something,” Link said, turning his head to look at Sheik. “It feels further away, less real, when it’s just an idea.”

“Except there are those of us who know better.”

“I can’t say I’m in the mood to celebrate,” he admitted simply as he turned to face Sheik entirely, with his back leaning against the wall. 

“And for that I can’t blame you.”

Link studied the Sheikah for a moment, but there was nothing more he could see than what met the eye. He knew so little about this person, yet they’d traversed through all of Hyrule under the guise of helping the Hero of Time only to disappear as soon as they served their purpose. 

“Why now?” he asked, tilting his head. “You’ve never just… appeared to have a conversation.”

There was a twinkle in Sheik’s eye that suggested they were smiling, but he couldn’t see anything beneath the wrap, so he didn’t try. 

“I didn’t think the Hero of Time would oppose having a friend, but should he wish to be a lone wolf, I can go.”

Link almost cracked a smile. Something about the comfortable atmosphere, how familiar they were acting, unnerved him. But he trusted Sheik with his life, because they’d been the one consistent thing. He could trust them to be at every dungeon, ready to encourage him and teach him something new. 

“And I didn’t think the Sheikah did friends,” he replied simply. 

“I have a delivery,” Sheik clarified as they pulled a box out of thin air. After seeing the Sheikah do the same with themselves so many times, Link had stopped questioning it. “It’s from Princess Zelda.” 

Those words alone made him straighten, and so many emotions hit him at once that he wasn’t quite sure how to react. There were so many questions, too, but he could only ask one at a time.

“She’s alive?” His voice was quiet enough to be carried away on the winds, full of disbelief and perhaps even hope. “Is she safe?”

“She’s alive,” Sheik replied with a nod. They studied him for a moment, then spoke again: “And she’s as safe as she could possibly be. She’s in good hands.”

“Where is she? Can I see her?”

“No.” Their reply was a little too quick, and it made Link recoil. Their expression softened and they held the box towards him with a nod of encouragement. As he took it, they continued. “Not yet. If she came out of hiding too early and Ganondorf found her… but I promise you, she is closer than you think.”

For a moment, Link was torn between answering with a bitter, sarcastic laugh, and saying that the princess lied in his heart. Instead of speaking however, he settled on pulling the top of the box open. The crystal inside was not a new sight, glistening in the setting sun with a thousand colors, but for a moment, some stupid part of him believed there was a deeper meaning to this. Or maybe he just hoped that the heart container, which was really nothing more than a crystal full of protective magic, meant something instead of the very simple truth that it was another tool to help him in his quest to free Hyrule. 

But it gave him a sense of hope, a sense of happiness to know that Princess Zelda was safe. Regardless of what the heart container was supposed to be, it would forever serve as a piece of her--a reminder that there was reason to keep fighting. Maybe it was selfish to consider it a reason, instead of doing it to save all of Hyrule. But no hero was incapable of being selfish, and after such an adventure, if it could even be called one, all he wanted was to find comfort in the one person that could give it to him.

Link turned his head to thank the Sheikah, but they were gone. The only evidence of the conversation was the container in his hand. He was grateful, because far above the eyes of Kakariko village, during the hours of dusk, there was no one to see him bring the crystal to his lips.

[aion-rsa]

10 Injustice Characters the DC Animated Movie Needs to Get Right

https://ift.tt/3fCncB7

As we wait an announcement pertaining to the existence of NetherRealm Studios’ Injustice 3, we at least know that Warner Bros. is set to adapt the games into a DC animated movie.

Ever since its release in 2013, the Injustice franchise has not only become a staple of NetherRealm’s roster, but the comic spinoffs have made it a beloved part of the DC multiverse. The plot revolves around a reality where the Joker was able to mess with Superman so badly that the Man of Steel gradually became a mass-murdering dictator, with the support of several members of the Justice League. Left without any other option, Batman brought in counterparts of the Justice League from the “mainstream” universe to help him fight a civil war against his former friend. It was a story that merged the Justice Lords two-parter from the Justice League cartoon with Marvel’s original Squadron Supreme comic series.

A popular prequel series was released, mostly written by Tom Taylor, that explained the five years in-between Superman killing the Joker in cold blood and Batman’s last stand. Sometime later, the game’s story was adapted into the comic Injustice: Ground Zero. And the Injustice universe has only continued to grow since then.

As snazzy as NetherRealm’s story modes are, they are going to have to make some changes to the narrative for the animated movie. It’s not like every character is going to stumble into exactly four best-two-out-of-three fights in a row before someone else is the focus. Knowing that there will be alterations, some characters are really going to need some tender love and care.

Superman (Both of Them)

Injustice: Gods Among Us didn’t invent the idea of an evil Superman, but things are a bit over-saturated these days. Face it, “Dark Superman” has been done to death, what with Brightburn, The Boys, Invincible, and everything Zack Snyder intended with his Justice League movies.

It’s important that the animated movie really get into the WHY of what turned Superman evil instead of the Joker just getting a tragic win over him. The Injustice comic nudged him over and over again with multiple betrayals and manipulations before he finally snapped and angrily broke every bone in Green Arrow’s body. Hit all that, or at least enough of it.

More importantly, Injustice is a story of two different Supermen. The mainstream Superman has to ring true. He has to be the beacon of hope and positivity that pop culture has been missing for the past decade.

Ultimately, as long as they don’t do that minigame where Superman blows up cars and the people in them with his eye-lasers, we’re cool.

Batman

In this DC take of Marvel’s Civil War, Batman is by default the better person when compared to Superman. He has a line he won’t cross and that means no murder and no tyranny. That said, he still needs to be portrayed as a flawed hero. He may be competent, but he still behaves like a total douche at times and deserves to take one to the chin every now and then.

Being a paranoid futurist who buries himself in contingency plans means alienating allies, friends, and even family members. There’s a great moment in the Injustice comic where he reveals that he infected Cyborg with a virus within a week of meeting (you know, just in case), which Killer Croc says is outright sinister. It’s this kind of behavior that led to Superman’s fall to darkness, because even if Bruce wasn’t behind any of the horrors, he still chose coldness and paranoia over being there for a friend who was going through some serious shit.

Harley Quinn

A hype trailer for Harley painted her as a major protagonist in the first game but the game’s story mode just didn’t measure up. The comics did a better job and the Ground Zero volume was specifically about telling the game’s story from Harley’s perspective. I’m not saying that she should be joined by her team of BFF henchmen from Ground Zero, but she should definitely be a prominent hero.

Similar to the Mark Waid comic series Irredeemable and Incorruptible (also about an evil take on Superman), Harley’s turn to heroism is the universe’s response to Superman’s actions. She’s done some horrible things and may never make up for her actions under the Joker’s thumb, but she’ll keep fighting to stop Superman’s atrocities.

Wonder Woman

While Batman did a bad job trying to pull Superman from the darkness, Wonder Woman succeeded in pushing him in. It’s noted here and there, but this Wonder Woman was also altered by tragedy. In this timeline, Steve Trevor turned out to be a Nazi traitor. His betrayal left Diana feeling much less optimistic and hopeful than her mainstream self.

Wonder Woman’s villainy isn’t as pronounced as Superman’s, but she’s definitely the friendly face who eggs him on and wants him to stand over all mankind. As Superman uses her to fill the void left from Lois Lane’s death, the power couple become very good at bringing out the worst in each other.

Damian Wayne

The Injustice game did Damian a little dirty, revealing deep into the story that the Nightwing fighting on Superman’s side was not Dick Grayson, but Damian. According to Batman, Damian murdered Dick. The comics dove deeper into that and made it more of a freak accident brought on by Damian being an impulsive and angry child. Still, Bruce and his son were unable to make amends due to their shared lack of warmth.

Later stories, and even Injustice 2, added more depth to Damian. It always made sense that he’d join Superman’s Regime, but there was a soul in there who would eventually see that this wasn’t the right path. In the comic Injustice vs. Masters of the Universe, which was treated as a sequel to Injustice 2’s dark ending, Damian took up the mantle of Batman to oppose Superman and even grew a long-missing sense of humor in the process.

Lex Luthor

The great tragedy of the DC multiverse is that Superman and Lex Luthor just can’t get along. They will always be at odds no matter what Earth they come from. The Injustice universe was the one exception, as Luthor was portrayed as fairly warm and altruistic. Much like Batman, he has contingency plans up the wazoo, but they don’t come off as creepy.

Seeing him there as Superman’s longtime friend who sadly has to stab him in the back brings back that multiversal truth about the duo. Just because this is a world where Superman kills and things get very bleak doesn’t mean it’s the worst world and that it isn’t worth saving. The mainstream Cyborg is reluctant to come to terms with this heroic Luthor, but he ultimately accepts the miracle that this universe created a Luthor worth befriending and even looking up to.

Hal Jordan

Maybe it’s just me, but I was never a fan of how Geoff Johns retconned Hal’s past and gave him deniability for everything he did as Parallax. I liked that a boring hero dude like Hal snapped, did some bad stuff, and then had to accept his failures in an attempt to be better. With Injustice, they gave us that exact Hal.

Read more

Games

Injustice Beat Zack Snyder’s Justice League to the Punch

By Matthew Byrd

Comics

Injustice: Year Zero Brings the Justice Society to DC Alternate Universe

By Jim Dandy

Overflowing with willpower and being an otherwise competent space cop, Hal is still something of a dunce at times, and he’s susceptible to manipulation in the right situation. He’s already following Superman’s lead, but having Sinestro pop in to indoctrinate him into the Sinestro Corps makes him actually interesting. Let Hal be the worst version of himself here so he can double back on it in the sequel and beg Guy Gardner’s ghost for forgiveness.

Shazam

Injustice may be the B-side to Mortal Kombat, but the game itself is fairly tame on the violence. Joker’s death isn’t actually shown on screen, Luthor’s end is fairly clean, and Grodd taking a trident to the torso is relatively tame.

But what we absolutely, positively have to see in the animated movie is Shazam’s death scene to really give an idea of how far gone Superman is. It’s bloodless from our point of view, but it’s grisly as hell and made worse when you remember that Shazam is a literal child under all the mystical power.

Batgirl

The Barbara Gordon version of Batgirl was one of the first DLC characters added to Injustice, but it’s unfortunate that she’s not in the main story mode — something the animated movie could fix by giving her a more prominent role in the fight against the Regime. Her ending gives her a kickass backstory where she returns to the cowl after her father dies at Superman’s hands. The comics go deeper into this, even making it so that Superman doesn’t directly kill Commissioner Gordon.

In this continuity, she was already wheelchair-bound as Oracle. She had to go under a very dangerous procedure under Luthor’s care in order to walk again. This is one of the storylines that could make for a captivating arc in the movie.

Alfred Pennyworth

Alfred isn’t in either Injustice game. He’s already dead by the start of the first game. But I don’t care. Alfred needs to be in the animated movie because he is the heart and soul of the Injustice comics. While others bow to Superman, follow him, or even try to reason with him, Alfred Pennyworth doesn’t play those games. He will straight-up verbally clown Superman for his actions without flinching. He is not afraid of the Kryptonian, no matter how red his glowing eyes get.

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This comes to a head in the comics when Alfred takes a pill that gives him Kryptonian strength and he kicks the absolute shit out of Superman for ruining his family. I know I’m asking for a lot, but I simply need to see Alfred stomp a mudhole in Superman so hard that his own shoe explodes from the impact.

The post 10 Injustice Characters the DC Animated Movie Needs to Get Right appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3hIQH7h

[ireddeadredemption2pc-blog]

Red Dead Redemption 2 PC

Red Dead Redemption2 PC

The old west feels brand new again.

Oh Jesus Christ, what have you done? “Thomaschen 978 wants to know why a dozen carcasses and a couple of horse corpses are placed on rail tracks bordering the early industrial city and are the New Orleans stand-in St. Denis.” You killed half. village.” PC Games For Free

We are on round two of the recurring corpse pile. My poses got the idea to jump in front of the train after a few rounds of Lose Your Friends and Toss Them in the Sea in the Couple Friendly Strangers. Like GTA 5, Red Dead Redemption 2 has its own bowling minima, we explain to Chen in a roundabout way that provokes his fear. Die in the shared open world of Red Dead Redemption 2 and you’ll react fast enough to move your corpse around. Best RPGs games pc

The boy is in line with us. We should make it bigger. As the train comes around again, another pose tries to take us out. The chain defends us but does not bring it back to the tracks. He goes away screaming. Death of a true warrior.

Red Dead Redemption 2 could be the biggest, most humble videogame ball pit for an annoying story about impulsive children, the forced disintegration of the community, or simply a quiet and reflective hiking simulator. It’s just about what you need it to be, and it’s good at it.

Just hours before the corpse-bowling, I was alone through the icy forests, stepping into the long shadow cast across the snow by the rising moon. I heard a gunshot from a distance. The tracks of some wolves marked snow in the same direction. I saw them who won. Anytime I pay attention and look closely, RDR2 is the result of my curiosity. Best Racing games on pc

The mind-numbing expanse that makes up the vast world of RDR2 speaks to the creative force of a development team with an intense, obsessive dedication to realism (and all the money and time needed to do so). Like how my friends’ characters flare up when I fire a gun at them, how animal carcasses disintegrate over time, how NPCs react according to a sloppy or bloody outfit, how to stir through a doorway. Scares everyone everywhere.

It is hard to believe that RDR2 is so deep and wide and is also a harmonious, playable thing. I was already playing it for days worth the console version. This is why I am particularly disappointed that it ended up on the PC to some extent.

For every non-taught multiplayer adventure, disconnect or crash on the desktop, desktop. The rock star’s best storyline and character so far has been filmed through Frame Hutches’ slideshow and addressed over the launch weekend.

RDR2, one of the best Western games and one of the best open-world games I have ever released with enough stability issues, is recommended for the hard way until everything is completely smooth.

Morgan trail

EVERY PRETTY VISTA IS SOMETHING TO LOSE THROUGH ARTHUR’S EYES.

The story genre of Red Dead Redemption 2 follows the dying days of the Wild West. The sprawling industrial world faced the bandits and social downtrodden of Arthur Morgan’s small band, an imperfect but loyal, loving and self-reliant community.

Capitalism is reducing its value as resources to humans. Indigenous USA America is driven from the plains to make way for ‘civilization’ and commerce. The forests are brought down for timber, the hills are cut down for coal, and Morgan’s chosen family is caught in the middle, forced to flee, assimilate, or respond with violent protests is done. They do all three.

This is Rockstar’s most serious drama, and it’s really, really long. If you are running, the story ends after 40 to 50 hours and then continues for 10 to 15. The main story missions of Red Dead 2 feature distinctly rockstar fare: ride to a destination that is talking to everyone, tightly scripting though, entertaining things, riding, and chatting to the final destination.

Missions are often thrilling action sequences or artificially mundane pictures of wrench labor and trade, full of long-winded Bespoke animations, and outstanding performances. They are only hopelessly harsh, to the point where it feels like I am following the stage directions rather than playing the role of a vagabond in the Old West.

Step out of line in these campaigns and this is a failed situation. As opposed to Red Dead Online, there are very few of them that encourage players to think for themselves, each designed to advance the story. The RDR2 show is at least a spectacle of the slow pace of life in the Old West.

This is not the death and theatricality of a lifetime; My favorite missions include shoveling, drinking wine with a friend, proposing an old romance and riding a hot air balloon. Working through a greater rut, stricter tasks are considered meaningful in the end anyway, inspired by extraordinary, ambient world-building and characterization.

Side missions, minigames, small activities, and random world events — whether they hunt great guns, capture a play, or stumble upon a woman trapped under a horse — all set Arthur’s character and setting in subtle, rich ways. Please inform.

Nested in the third act of a fully animated and voice theatrical performance, something like 10 minutes, it is possible that the response button is pressed after an artist has included a telephone. Arthur would shout, “Hell with the telephone!” It is an optional activity, a long one, and an option is to react in that short window. I think most players will remember this, but this is Canad Response 1 through 3 because this is something Arthur would say, a rageless goofy set his way in the right way.

He would write complete, real diary entries about the 50-hour campaign, sketching memorable scenes and depicting the state of affairs of his chosen family, which people once knew changed their fortunes between hope and despair. It is meant to be a completely alternative reading, but a refreshingly intimate take on a masculine figure that unsettles many doubts and hopes as to the next person.

He sings himself on a lonely ride and lowers his old body in the mirror. He will have an exciting conversation with the horseshoe woman as he gives her a ride into town, both commenting on the troubles of working for wealthy, ungrateful men as a growing necessity. I feel it all. Best horror games on pc free

Hillbillies can capture him after making the camp, a couple may try to rob him after inviting him to dinner, a man with snakebite can come out of the forest by stumbling and tell him to suck venom is. These haphazard encounters portray brutal life on the fading frontier, as nature pushes back against inner poppers who want to change it. Arthur is the perfect vessel to see it

This is because Arthur Morgan is one of the darkest human characters I have played during a great turning point in American history, playing a playful, cruel and compassionate role according to differing theories.

The game world, beautiful as it is, is made more beautiful and tragic by how it is ready to play it on every occasion. Every beautiful vista has something to lose through Arthur’s eyes, power lines and train tracks, cut through the skies, and the rest of his life is slowly filling with factory smoke. Just about everyone sees a sad end in RDR2, too. This is a story that I might not sustain every moment, but I will not forget its brutal arc or the man in the middle of it all. God damn is it sad? An apocalypse that led to this.

Ren Der Reflection

Assuming that you are able to run it at high settings, the biggest strength of RDR2 is how it exquisitely renders the Old West setting on PC, drawing more attention to the nuanced details that make it. This is one of the best looking games I’ve seen and a rare experience that justifies a new GPU or CPU.

Better draw distance and a greater range of vegetation detail were added, making some vistas look photographic. Long shadows vary from walking or roaming between places to rides, to cute nature tours. Due to animal attacks, bullet holes, rain, mud, or rapid flow of blood, the markings on the clothes are caused by very high-resolution textures, which tell a very little story about your friends.

A new photo mode makes it easy to share those moments of amazement. The way the player rides on RDR2 for just sightseeing and sounds is an important feature. I am desperately trying to get an artistic portrait of my horse’s silhouette to sit against the moon, yet another self-proclaimed goal was tolerated by this ridiculously large complex game.

With 2080, i9-9900K and 32GB of RAM, I can run RDR2 mostly on ultra settings with some resource-intensive settings completely off or switched off. But some hardware combinations are proving troublesome for RDR2, leading to random crashes in some APIs and, more recently, to a hotfix, leading to hitching problems for some 4-core CPUs.

During the first weekend, I couldn’t spend more than an hour without crashing on the desktop, though Vulcan switched from DX12 (which gives me better framerates) back to static stuff. Sometimes the UI malfunctions and I cannot select a select or purchase option, the map fails to appear, or I get paged unexpectedly from game servers.

The graphics settings are almost too much as well, and probably confusing. In our test, only a handful of settings affected performance by more than 1-2 percent. Large residuals, the mapping between MSAA, volumetric lighting, and parallax occlusion, affect performance by 5 to 25 percent. Most of them don’t make a big visual difference anyway and are best left out.

The way the settings are presented is made to feel underdeveloped: a huge list with unclear presets that require tinkering to make RDR2 run in a satisfactory framerate. It is hard. The PC should be the best place to play, not the best place to play, after all, after a few patches. It’s a shame for a game to look good. upcoming pc games

Cowboy poetry Red Dead Redemption 2 PC

Like in singleplayer mode, in Red Dead Online I can make my goals reasonable and watch them. The problem is, it is basically hamstrung by a frustrating multiplayer leveling system that locks basic equipment and cosmetics behind long XP requirements that can meet hours, perhaps days,

The option is spending gold, premium currency, items and clothing to unlock them immediately. A fishing pole is not available until level 14. A damn fishing pole in an outdoor recreation game. This is not spectacular and is a terrible way to invest players.

out a basic suite of tools (fishing rod, bow, varmint rifle, nice hat, etc.), Red Dead Online opened up widely. I have largely ignored traditional matchmaking modes such as gunfights and horse races, cheap thrills, I will play much better versions in different games, to have fun. It led to the most inventive, serene, real, and sometimes buzzing echo I’ve ever had.

I once walked into the middle of a fire in Blackwater and took the player corpses one by one to the church cemetery. Some were captured and participated in the ‘burial’ of their friends. A corpse thanked me for the gesture. Later, in an extended streak of criminal activity, my pose and I caught another player and instead of killing them on the spot, we rode into the swamp and threw them into the garter infected waters. I got the idea to act like a friend. Best pc games 2017

On a less absurd note, I set myself a constant goal of earning strictly enough money from hunting to buy cool-weather gear and a fine rifle. I am going to hike in the mountains and find the best way to hide there, a wild mountain man adorned with animal skins, which almost touches the floor.

In the meantime, I’m stopping gunmen across the city by running through the streets and calling for a parley. I am participating in an eight-player ballroom. I am living the life of a normal cowboy in the best shepherd game. I hope it clears up soon.

RDR2 PC System Requirements

OS : Windows 7 SP1 64bit

Graphics   Nvidia GeForce GTX 770 2GB / AMD Radeon R9 280

Processor:   Intel Core i5-2500K / AMD FX-6300

Memory:    8 GB RAM

DirectX:   Version 11 Or 12 Support

Storage: 150 GB

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 20

Table of Contents Go to first. Go to previous. Go to next.

Drug culture and human experimentation tw’s.

...This track out of time is coming full circle.

To the East end of Lexington, the remains of Mystic Lakes lay under the ruins of the Route 3 overpass. Angel had assisted ‘Choly in bathing in the water of the Mystic River, both by providing a lookout and getting his back for him. He wished more than anything that he could have simply laid back and soaked, but the area was neither secure nor private. ‘Choly dried himself off just enough to comfortably put on his surgical corset, then with bated breath requested the garment bag from Angel’s storage.

It felt like a step backwards in every sense to be in uniform again. The khaki slacks, dress shirt with US lapel pins, and tie tied precisely. Grateful for impeccable tailoring, he’d have to wait for his suspenders to dry. He toed into his dark brown dress shoes, then affixed his wrist and ankle braces. The Pharm Corps overcoat, complete with its twin caduceus lapel pins, the double silver shoulder bars to mark his rank, and over his heart all the bars from nearly ten full years’ service. His hands went over them in guilt. For the first time since he stepped foot in Lexington, he questioned what he was doing.

Self-agency was a bitch.

The sound of laser fire behind him jostled him from his moment of remorse, and he jumped.

“What! What was it--!”

“There was no saving those articles, Sir,” the Handy Bot elucidated, unable to hide its relish at dispatching with them in such a way. “No amount of Abraxo could have gotten out those stains. You’ve worn them an entire month straight. Today was simply the last straw. Ha Ha!”

‘Choly frowned at his robot meaningfully, forced to commit to the wardrobe change long-term.

“I... suppose it’s for the best,” he ultimately dismissed. “Abraxo is better served for just about anything but cleanliness.”

With a long, distant pause, ‘Choly stared out over the water, able to see Medford from where he stood. Finally putting his PipBoy back on his right wrist, he faced Angel with an odd smile.

“It’s going to be dark soon. We should get back. I have... work to do.”

He sat in the wheelchair as Angel unfolded it again for him, and they were off again through the heart of the city.

“Forgive me for saying so, Sir, but it does my servos such a delight to see you in uniform again. I’ve... missed circumstance.”

“I suppose for lack of anything else, for better or for worse, one can always fall back on the familiar.”

Angel served ‘Choly a small dinner of Cram and a sweet roll, to recover what nutrients he’d lost that afternoon. Once it was dry enough, ‘Choly brushed his hair back into a fresh french twist, then he excused himself for the night, to sort out his own demons. With the Merrick Index and a fresh holotape loaded, he made his way up to his garden office.

As night fell, the incandescent lighting from the office’s wall sconces soothed him, but he still supplemented their illumination with two candles on the edge of the desk in the middle of the room. He stood, and folded up the wheelchair in the corner. Makeshift planters framed the outer edge of the floor and filled the shelves lining the opposing walls, and he had even coaxed a melon plant to take to a hanging planter in the far corner. He smiled as he tended to each bedpan, each wash basin, each bucket and pot in which he had cultivated some manner of strange postapocalyptic life. The delicate pale lavender flowers with their dark foliage, the shallow muddy pan in which he’d revived a cutting from large red water lilies, the handful of tiny glowing stalky mushrooms he’d transplanted from one of the bathrooms in the place. And then his most endeared project in the room, his successes in transplanting the brain fungus from the break room refrigerator.

He then took a seat in the swivel bucket chair at the desk. For some time, he sought mental quiet staring out beyond the overpass outside his accidental window. He opened a fresh can of purified water at the desk and nursed on it in favor of alcohol for the evening, then popped a Mentat under his tongue and got to skimming the leaves of notes he’d tucked into the front cover of the pharmaceutical reference.

There had to be some way to distract Jared from seeking out cyclomorphine as his wonder drug. Now knowing Jared’s means and motives, he could prepare all necessary phrasing with care.

Perhaps, he could shift all focus imaginable on synthesizing the most potent Jet possible. Ultra Jet, fermented to be extra concentrated. It’d probably require a substrate to the mix, to boost the cultures. Jet Fuel, a heterogeneous mix of flamethrower fuel. A literal attempt at lighting up the third eye, it could plausibly take the form of an inhalant, injectable, or edible. Buff-Jet, as Berries-Carey had once proposed, an attempt at throttling pineal uptake of the entheogen. He could provide an entire veritable candy shoppe of chems to the raider outfit.

Anything but cyclomorphine. Surely, the constituents had died with civilization. He didn’t want to think about the finite morphine stock in the lab downstairs, if even in the context of how once it ran out, Psycho might be impossible to synthesize ever again.

Owing to the source of his hypothetical Buff-Jet recipe, he eyed the brain fungus mounding up in the pan along the wall. The most psychedelic mushrooms he knew of, they all tended to grow on dung, or on other fungi. He wondered whether the secret to infusing Mentats with Jet would either be found in feeding brain fungus to brahmin... or cultivating brain fungus in brahmin manure. He annotated these ideas, in the hopes of running them by Jared. He never wanted to sample Jet again in his life, if he could help it... and yet, the fingers of addiction crawled at the fringes of his personal space.

Of course that acute an exposure would have rendered dependency. Revolted to be reminded again of the afternoon’s experience, he squirmed in his seat and eyed the bottle of whiskey on the desk. He shook his head of the compulsion and drank more water, then did his best to focus on his task.

Flipping through the Index, he browsed the various formulas for synthesizing saucier chems like Daddy-O or Daytripper. They required patent-protected precursors, for the most part, and he sighed in nuisance that recreating these sophisticated synthetics was beyond him in his current capacity. He wondered... Perhaps, in other branches of the pharmacy warehousing, he might put his hands on pharmaceutical precursors such as these. For as much as he endeared himself to the sublingual facility of Mentats, barring Berries there was no crisper clarity than that bestowed by Daddy-O. Chasing the injection with Daytripper... usually smoothed out the resultant short temper and social clumsiness of having your brain run faster than your mouth. No contraindications existed strong enough to deter the intent from stacking Daddy-O with Mentats, either.

Though, as far as mode of dosage went, if ‘Choly had to pick how he took a chem, he far preferred to eat or drink it. Needles had such a high rate of injection site necrosis, depending on the chem, and regular Daddy-O abuse was right up there with Psycho in terms of that risk. He trusted Berries, no matter how clinical and exact the cholinergic high of Daddy-O felt. He didn’t much trust inhalants, either. Alimentary uptake was the safest, in his clinical and personal opinions both, and that left him right back at Mentats.

He eyed the brain fungus again, and sniffed pathetically. Perhaps the night that had birthed Melancholy from Berries and Jet Carey might have gone differently, had the Berries and Jet been compounded for compatibility. To his knowledge, drug culture hadn’t determined the means to marry psychedelia with nootropics, possibly for the best, and yet... in his desperation to find something, anything, better and more appealing than Psycho, he found himself seriously deliberating the means to precipitate Jet-Tats. The chemist fell asleep at his desk, scrawling chemistry notes.

“Sir, it’s time for breakfast,” Angel chirped from the office doorway.

‘Choly picked up his head and looked to the Handy, then nodded and followed in the wheelchair with his half-can of water. Once in the break room, Angel offered a box of Sugar Bombs and a mug of black coffee, which he greeted. After some time, he cleared his throat.

“Call it nerves if you want, Angel, but I would like to store a few things in you for safekeeping. You’re the safest place I have to hide just about anything. You’re... holding something very valuable right now, in fact. Could you...”

Angel had a blind spot just about where its owner had installed the false bottom in its storage, so it swerved and dilated its ocular lenses curiously before turning its back to 'Choly so that he could take a look inside himself. He pocketed the revolver, and tucked the Merrick Index inside along with all his notes. While he was in there, he counted only five bottles of Melancholia.

“Here, follow me around for a bit and add to your stock as indicated. All the Melancholia... And all the morphine and cyclomorphine... and all the barberine... Toiletries...” The list went on for around an hour before Angel insisted he be on his way to work.

“Things will be just fine, Sir. You were most ragged when you came home yesterday. Today will go so much more smoothly, I assure you!”

“I certainly hope you’re right.”

Jared already manned the Jet rig by the time Angel parted ways and ‘Choly wheeled across the assembly line floor to meet him.

“Ah, chemist. I expected you to be late. Yesterday must have done a real number on you.” Jared glanced at him, then got a better look when the initial glance didn’t add up. “You changed clothes.”

“You’re certainly chipper and compassionate today.” ‘Choly watched with a thoughtful frown as the black raider finished loading the bucket of manure into the spigot. Suddenly, in proximity to the rig, he felt utmost gratitude to port an ensemble with head-to-toe military grade water and stain repellent. “Yeah, after yesterday, the clothes I had were done for. What’s on the agenda?”

“Well, if your memory didn’t conveniently lapse, you should have brought me something very specific. Do you remember what that was?”

Deadpan, ‘Choly produced the Nagant from the hip pocket of his military jacket and held it out for him handle first. Jared looked it over, then checked out the rudimentary sight on it. With a low, impressed whistle, he aimed the thing at 'Choly. The chemist flinched despite knowing the firearm had no bullets.

“So this is a Russian pistol. I’ve been thinking. Little verbal slips here and there. You being able to confidently identify the make of this thing. Supposing you are a man out of time. That you really are from before the War. You were a Commie, weren’t you?” He laughed darkly at 'Choly, who straightened in his seat.

“I’m Russian. That’s right.”

“From the look of that uniform, you didn’t fight for the Reds, though. You defected. Betrayed your country.” The raider walked to the other end of the assembly line with the revolver in hand, forcing ‘Choly to keep up to sustain the uncomfortable conversation. At a workbench, he began to tinker with the thing to get acquainted. “What made you do it?”

‘Choly trembled, not sure whether he was more indignant or threatened.

“You have to know? Same reason I plied for your graces. Money, at first. Asylum. Opportunity. The Chinese were already vying to subsume the Motherland before the United States military approached me and offered me a pardon of my nationality in exchange for my service. They could overlook that I was Russian, as long as I did what they needed of me without question. I’ve...” He swallowed. “I’ve always followed anything that looked like security, and... this... this outfit is the most secure I’ve felt since I thawed out.”

He bit his tongue before tacking on a not that it’s a good frame of reference.

“An answer I both did and did not expect from you. I’m strangely pleased with you, chemist. Lacking your brains, I wish more people in my outfit had your sensibilities. You have your priorities straight.”

“Do I? I just handed over your capacity to administer whatever chems you want, to whomever in the room you want. Tell me I haven’t just fucked up. Promise me I didn’t just make the second worst mistake in my life.”

“And what, pray tell, do you say takes the cake?”

“Not being more adamant with my commanding officers, as to the side effects our experiments were having on the soldiers. We lost lives just through gross clinical negligence. I nearly lost my humanity in all my years of service, forced time and again to prioritize results over the safety of the test subjects. And... and you’re asking me to stand by while you do exactly what I did two hundred years ago.”

“A... military chemist.” Jared’s eyes went wide, and he turned from the dismantled gun with a wild grin as he gripped Melancholy by the shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ Deenwood chemist. Holy fuck-in’ shit. I knew I struck gold when I laid eyes on you. You’re going to cook Psycho for me. The Jet ain’t cutting it.”

‘Choly’s head swam hot and his extremities numbed. When his left leg began to spasm, he clamped his elbow down on it forcefully to glare at Jared.

“The hell do you know about the Deenwood Compound.”

“I know that these experiments you’re doing your best not to describe were perfecting Psycho. Don’t play stupid with me. You can take credit for all your fine work. God!” The raider let go of him to throw up his hands in delirious disbelief. “I’ve got a fuckin’ Deenwood chemist right in front of me. And you’ve wasted all this time dicking around with Buffout, and Jet... when you could have been making my outfit the good shit! God--!” He cackled, and suddenly the gun itself paled to everything else transpiring.

“I, I can’t entice you with literally any other chem on the planet, can I.”

“Barring X-Cell, you’re the best thing I’ve ever had in my sights.”

The mention of the highly experimental drug boxed ‘Choly’s ears, and he did his best to ignore just how much Jared seemed to know about ‘Choly’s employment.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the precursor for Psycho is extinct.” Another worst possible remark, at the receiving end of Jared’s instantaneous glower he choked down errant saliva despite a dry mouth. “Cyclomorphine is a morphine analogue. Painkillers. Opiates. Morphine comes from a plant called opium. Without it, Psycho can’t exist.”

“Painkillers...” Jared crooked his tongue in the corner of his mouth a moment, and stared a hole through ‘Choly. “Painkillers, like hub?”

“What.”

“Hubflower. Those dark purple plants with the light purple flowers. What else could you have wanted them for? Wastelanders keep the petals to chew on when they’re hurting. Makes the whole tongue go numb.”

“Are you trying to tell me... that there’s a good chance my office contains potted descendants of the poppy.” His heart clung to his throat. Jared had sidestepped every possible objection he could have to the prospect. “I have potted plants... in my office... the flowers of which--” His voice broke off in a sweating squeak.

“Cool it, you little Nimrod. Don’t blow a gasket. What’s the matter with doing for my outfit what the government had you do? You know it pays well. How did you put it? All the money, asylum, and opportunity you could ask for. You're not in a position to turn me down. Fuck this shit. We’re done with the Jet. We’re going for the gold. You’re going to test hub to confirm it’s a match for the chem you need. And you’re going to be my Psycho cook.”

“I... certainly look the part, don’t I.” Shakily, he raised his right hand to his forehead and saluted him to the best of his abilities. “Captain Alan Carey of the Deenwood Pharm Corps, at your employ.”

Go to Next »»»

[aslanjadecarlyle]

Am I really sitting here, taking the time to write out a review for P.T. Barnum's autobiography? Why yes, yes I am. Now, P.T. Barnum was not a good man. We all know this, and if you let Hugh Jackman's portrayal of Barnum in "The Greatest Showman" take over your idea of what real Barnum was like, well, that's your own damn problem. That being said, I do love The Greatest Showman - can we say, favorite movie? - and, as I said above, it's your own fault if you can't do research for yourself. After watching the movie, I had a few dollars left on a Christmas gift card and Barnum's autobiography was less than $2 on Kindle. So I thought, what the hell. It took me a damn month to read it, but I did finally finish it and, hell, I'm glad I did. P.T. Barnum was an asshole, yes, and he did treat those with disabilities like shit, yes. That's all true. However, one thing I think we all need to remember is the time period in which he lived. Real Barnum was born in 1810 in Connecticut (his birthday is the day after America's Independence Day, actually) and died in 1891, aged 80, also in Connecticut. He sat down to write this autobiography in the 1850s - that's before the Civil War even happened! Put that into perspective. Yes, he was an asshole. Yes, he - along with 99% of the population - treated literally anyone with differences like they were freaks. He was literally known for it! But he, just like everybody else who lived then, was a product of his time. That's what's so important to remember. They were not NEARLY as tolerant then as we are now - hell, the South still had SLAVES when the autobiography was written. People were exploited for PROFIT because "normal" people were disgusted and/or fascinated by them. We cannot go back and change history, no, but people should not be crucified for finding interest in the... mindset of folks like Real Barnum (as opposed to Hugh Jackman's Barnum) back then. I've always been fascinated by history and the fact that we've come so far in a relatively short amount of time. Many, MANY historical events were harmful, yes. But there is no harm in wanting to simply learn more. Now, I'm saying that as a (at the time of this review) 19 year old who's been physically disabled - to the point of having needed a dozen surgeries over the first eight years of her life - her whole, entire life. Had it been possible for me to live back then (thank you, heckin medical advancements), I would have been a PERFECT example of a person Real Barnum would have wanted to use and abuse for his "shows" and "exhibits." But... that was then. This is now. Real Barnum has been dead for almost 130 years now, and his show - Barnum & Bailey - was shut down last year. It's a permanent mark in American history, and there is no longer any harm in wanting to learn more so long as you accept that people *aren't* and *can't be* treated like that any longer. I think the thing that fascinates me most about reading Real Barnum's autobiography is the fact that... he had a childhood. He was a child once, just like the rest of us, that he was fond of. He had a grandfather (*cough* who highkey looked like Elton John *cough*) that he was extremely fond of and close to, he had siblings - including a brother with whom he shared his bedroom, and who would try to catch him when he (PT Barnum) snuck out at night), and he was fond of pranks and practical jokes. Hell, there's an entire section of this book where Barnum details a prank war he had - as an adult - with a news reporter known as James Bennett. (No wonder movie-verse Bennett hated the circus so much)! And I think when somebody has a tainted reputation such as Barnum's, it's rather interesting - and totally mind-boggling - to read about them in their innocent moments. Especially when they're being written down and detailed by the man himself. Speaking of Real Barnum's word, there are several cases - such as the woman who claimed to be George Washington's slave - that are infamous in the case against Barnum that I found EXTREMELY interesting to read from his word - essentially getting the other side (no pun intended) of the story. In the case of the woman he claimed was George Washington's slave, for example, HE claims that SHE told him that she was a hundred and sixty (or however old the age was) when she was, in reality, something like seventy or eighty. According to his written word, he took her word for it (A+ background checks there, Mr. Barnum) and the truth of her age was never revealed until she died and they did an autopsy. I guess in an over century-year-old case of "he said, she said," we can never really 100% know the truth regarding who deceived who. But IF he's right in reporting that he truly did not know this woman's real age, then I find it absolutely fucking *hysterical* that the infamous conman himself got conned. I think that's all I, really, have to say on the matter, I think. Everyone has their own opinions on what sort of acknowledgment P.T. Barnum should receive and I prefer to stay out of that, for the most part, though I do love The Greatest Showman and am truly glad that I decided to pick up this read because of it. Though it did take me a month, the writing style actually was not hard to follow at ALL, which I find incredibly surprising. Though Barnum is a 19th century man, he has an almost... contemporary style of writing, with only slight language modifications from translators and historians. So, if you're into history like I am, I do genuinely recommend at least checking out this book. P.T. Barnum is, and was, an interesting man... that's for sure. (also, I find it HYSTERICAL that real Barnum was against alcohol and yet the film Greatest Showman featured Hugh Jackman and Zac Efron practically seducing each other in a bar. A+ work there, filmwriters)

5 Stars ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

[popwasabi]

“Justice League” Review TL:DR Edition: Prepare to be Triggered, Fanboys...

Directed by Zack Snyder and Joss Whedon

Starring: Ben Affleck, Gal Gadot, Ezra Miller, Jason Mamoa, Ray Fisher, Amy Adams, Henry Cavill

 There’s a scene in “Arrested Development” that perfectly encapsulates how I feel about “Justice League.”

In season one Michael Bluth is looking through his refrigerator and notices a brown bag left behind by his idiot magician brother Gob labeled “Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.” Michael then curiously opens up the bag anyways, looks up visually exacerbated and perplexed stating “I don’t know what I expected.”

(Honestly describes the MCU for me to a certain degree too...)

That’s in many ways the DCEU in a nutshell because despite a long history of lunacy (“Man of Steel,” “Suicide Squad,” “Dawn of Justice”) perpetuated by a dumb idiot (Zack Snyder, David Ayers) we dived head first into another clearly marked brown bag of a movie expecting something different only to get exactly what it told us it was.

“Justice League” certainly has a few good moments between the action, the visuals and some of the individual performances (Ezra Miller shines as Barry Allen and his humor often works in the movie) and is certainly not the worst movie that came out this year but after such a huge shot in the arm for the franchise with “Wonder Woman” it’s amazing how huge the drop in quality is here.

I WANT darker alternatives to the MCU in the super hero genre, I WANT a good Justice League movie and Marvel is faaaaar from perfect with their franchise but the DCEU simply fails here again.

There’s a ton to dissect here and it’s impossible to talk about this movie without going into SPOILERS so you are being warned now that this review will be long and thorough.

(Complainers will be subjected to Jared Leto’s method one acting class...)

Let’s begin shall we:

 “Justice League” tries to please everyone thus pleasing no one

Let’s start this review by debunking a couple myths as to why the DCEU doesn’t perform as well as the MCU; *in nasally neckbeard voice* “It’s because it’s darker and general audiences just want films that are ‘fun.’ Critics are biased toward Marvel.”

Wrong!

“The Dark Knight’s” summer long success run back in 2008 crushes the myth that 1) blockbusters need to be “witty” to be successful and  the even more absurdly 2) the idea that critics are biased toward Marvel flicks.

(Oh and hey look what happens when you competently direct a DCEU movie =D...)

Sure “The Dark Knight” came out in a much different super hero landscape than it is today and the MCU has certainly coasted on its “we’re the FUN franchise” for the last near decade but trust me people aren’t as against watching films that are complex and certainly enjoy dark tones and themes more than you think.

(Seriously!? Are you DCEU fans not seeing this?? I feel like I’m taking crazy pills!!)

The DCEU tries to be dark and serious super hero story-telling but the problem is the writing is God awful and most of the time makes no fucking sense. If the writing doesn’t make sense then the tone means fuck all!

Changes to these super heroes mythos could’ve been great and even welcome if they were written in a way that wasn’t dumb and that’s why “Man of Steel” and “Dawn of Justice” are total train wrecks. Snyder clearly doesn’t like Superman, or cares what he stands for, and though he seems to like Batman he has some very strange ideas about who this character is too.

(I have a lot to get into here so for futher explanation on that read my other long review on Dawn of Justice...)

So it has nothing to do with the films’ being dark. Trust me, I think there are a lot of fans out there, including myself, who want a dark and serious alternative to the campiness of the MCU but you gotta do it right, Warner Brothers!

But of course the studio, here, learned all the wrong lessons from these flops and the result is by far the most MCU like DCEU movie to date and it clashes with the established tone of the franchises constantly. The film feels almost like a soft reboot within a sequel because of this as Batman becomes suddenly, humorouslessly self-deprecating, Aquaman wisecracks every scene kind of like Thor, and even Amy Adams gets in a few dumb jokes. It’s not surprising Ezra Miller’s Flash is the most humorous (and also best character) of the bunch but it still sticks out after four movies where everyone is generally speaking pretty straight-faced.

(Admittedly, some of this light-heartedness was welcome though.) 

It just feels like a different movie now and not in a good way. The studio simply learned the wrong lessons from the previous flops; fans don’t want light-heartedness, they want good writing!

“Wonder Woman” this summer managed to do this the right way by maintaining a serious tone but still having room for humor and it fucking succeeded! Granted this movie was all but finished by the time that film came out but seriously it can be done!

There’s plenty of reasons why the MCU is a successful franchise but being humorous is only ONE of them. They may not have the complex ideas that the DCEU attempts to tackle but they are written and directed in intelligent ways. It’s the film-making equivalent of a west coast offense as opposed to the DCEU attempting verticals every play. You just can’t expect to hit the long ball every time over the course of two plus hours.

(Ask your football nerd friends...)

If the DCEU really wanted to match the MCU’s success there was a clearly marked way to do it while still being dark but as I’m about to point out they missed that too...

 Why the rush?

One thing that has baffled me the most about this franchise is its incessant need to play catch-up with the MCU. From the moment “Batman v. Superman” was announced at Comic-Con back in 2013, Warner Brothers seemed to think that if they had an ensemble super hero film too they would be instantly as financially successful as the MCU’s “Avengers” as well.

(How I imagine the interns may have sounded at Warner Bros Studios when they announced the reshoots for “Justice League.”)

People tend to forget that before “The Avengers” there were five films, spread out over four years that laid the backstory of each character, their personalities, their strengths and weaknesses and arcs and it set up for one hell of a team-up in 2012. “The Avengers” worked largely because they didn’t need to do anymore exposition, all they needed to do was just let the characters play off each other and do cool shit on the screen. Joss Whedon gets a lot of credit for bringing this all together but really all he did was do the sports equivalent of an alley-oop dunk from his point guard.

(Also figurative representation of Disney against their competition.)

“Justice League” actually had four years to work with too between their “Iron Man” (“Man of Steel”) and their big super hero teamup and hooooow did they decide to spend it? A convoluted sequel that attempted to setup the ensemble team for this movie, a God awful “Guardians of the Galaxy” clone released a few months later that year and finally an origin movie earlier this year for one of the team’s signature characters.

Warner Bros got only one thing right in the middle of these two movies and it was easily their best film to date. There’s a reason why Wonder Woman’s scenes go by the most smoothly in the movie; it’s because we already know her, we know what she’s been through, who she cares about and why she matters. Yes, all these characters have long established backstories in the comics that I’m sure all the NERDS were well aware of going into this movie but when you’re dealing with this many main characters you can’t expect us to feel connected to this team that we’re all essentially meeting for the first time here.

No, we definitely don’t need to see Batman’s parents shot again in another solo film but we could’ve definitely used origin films for the other characters. An Aquaman movie that describes the tension going on between him Mera in Atlantis could’ve given context to that scene in this movie. Cyborg’s film could’ve showed us why he doesn’t quite have control over his parts yet when he shoots Superman out of self-defense and would’ve made that scene make more sense. Or even a Flash movie that describes his relationship with his dad and why he keeps trying to save him would have given us an emotional context that carries over in this story (granted I watched the CW show, so I’m familiar with this character but that still doesn’t excuse this rushed backstory here).

(The DC CWverse: Somehow more consistently good with its goofy soap opera shit than these big budget Hollywood blockbusters.)

Don’t get me wrong, I think the actors involved all did a great job with what little they were given but they are ultimately bogged down by the need to explain their backstories in the middle of all of this because of the missing context.

“Avengers” did this the right way, as we saw Thor and Loki’s brotherly squabble carried into the ensemble film, Cap still struggling with being frozen for 60 years making him distrustful of his new handlers and Tony Stark still having a guilt complex from the first movie that carries into his near ultimate sacrifice at the end of the movie, not to mention the continued romance with Pepper Potts that helps lead him to this decision.

(Hey look! Context in action before “Civil War” last year!)

The point is thematically these are continuations of established characters where we see continued development in the ensemble movie; it’s building upon an established base instead of doing it all at once. Basically what I’m saying is “Justice League” is the fifth book in a graphic novel series without its third and fourth volumes (the other origin stories). 

We don’t get to see these other characters earn their capes and tights and thus the film feels distant and disjointed because we haven’t been shown why we should care yet about these other characters. When Batman gets blunt with Wonder Women about being gone for nearly 100 years and her relationship with Steve Trevor it’s an “Oh shit” moment for us because we GET IT because we saw IT happen in her movie. Imagine having that same “Oh shit” moment about the other characters; we could have seen real continuing development of these characters here instead of shoving it down our throats in one gulp of a movie.

(CONTEXT! CONTEXT! CONTEXT!!!!)

It’s a real missed opportunity by Warner Bros not to establish these characters in their own solo films before the big team-up but here we are unfortunately.

  Steppenwolf looked terrible and was terrible

Ok, time to get into some more specific problems with the movie and it starts with our CGI monstrosity of a villain; Steppenwolf.

Much in the same way not establishing solo film back stories for our heroes before the movie was a problem, having a hammy Steppenwolf backstory piled on top of all the rushed exposition was a mistake too.

The film could’ve benefited from an old established villain coming back much in the same way Loki did in Avengers with perhaps Lex Luthor instead, even with all his cheesy ridiculousness (Zodd, if they hadn’t killed him, would’ve been even better) but instead we are treated to one of the most lazy, one note, and most of all boring comic book bad guys to date.

(Actually, I’m starting to understand why Steppenwolf was largely left out of the trailers...)

His backstory includes a vague need for galactic conquest that concludes with something called the “mother boxes” (more on that later) and he’s pushed back by the combined forces of earth’s Amazonians, Atlantians and human warriors including presumably Earth’s last Green Lantern. After he’s pushed back, the three alliances agree to hide the mother boxes away should Steppenwolf return and of course he does.

Now here’s where it gets stupid.

Steppenwolf and his army have some kind of Thor Rainbow Bridge like technology that transports him wherever he needs to go (I’m sure all the comic book nerds understand what this is, but the film doesn’t explain it at all) and it allows him to drop on all but one of mother boxes with little notice. The reason he’s showing up now is apparently he had viewed the presence of Superman to be the biggest obstacle to his conquest and now that he’s dead he see’s Earth as vulnerable but this begs a couple questions.

1)      Superman had been on the planet for, give or take, 25-35 years, based on how old Clark looks in this movie. What was stopping him from showing up before? Steppenwolf is clearly not afraid of the Amazonians or Atlantians since he wipes the floor with them all pretty easily in the movie. If we assume that it’s based on how powerful they were in ancient times, let’s say they stopped being powerful around the time of “Wonder Woman” since they chose not to get involved in the war, that’s still about 80 years of vulnerability especially during WWI and WWII. Why didn’t he come back then?

2)      Why was it so hard for him to find the third motherbox…for about half the movie. He drops in on the first two instantly with his teleportation technology and takes them with little resistance. It begs the question; why are these items so ill protected if they are so dangerous? But again the third box for some reason is “hidden” to him when all the flashback shows is that they buried it in the woods. But it didn’t matter that it was hidden cause as soon as the League whips it out he drops in and picks it up, again, instantly and without any resistance. It was such baffling moment in the movie when Steppenwolf basically drops in and goes “lol yoink” with the third motherbox that I could not stop laughing for a solid ten minutes in the theater. Nobody on earth can protect these basically super atomic bombs, Steppenwolf can teleport and drop in pretty much whenever, wherever he wants and we’re all supposed to not find all this hilarious?

(Me x1000)

But really, there’s nothing to care about here with Steppenwolf and he may as well have been as faceless as his parademon henchmen. The movie gives us no reason to be interested in him and he does nothing besides bellow the same “FOOLS!” and “MANIACAL LAUGHTER FOLLOWED BY LOFTY DIALOGUE ABOUT ‘THIS IS YOUR END!’” in the movie and it makes him even more forgettable than some of the MCU’s worst bad guys. His entire character, starts and ends with these dumb mother boxes which leads to my next point…

 Motherfucking mother boxes

The film begins on a pretty preposterous set up when Batman causes a scouting parademon to combust whose remains form the symbol for these motherboxes. It’s a setup so ridiculous that it really doesn’t deserve a real analysis.

But what the hell are these things? The only thing the movie does is establish these were made by Steppenwolf and that they contain a limitless power of some kind. If it’s something more specific the movie glosses over this fact pretty badly with its choppy editing thanks again to the need to establish everyone’s backstories.

(“It’s like poetry, it rhymes..”)

Supposedly the third box was discovered by Cyborg’s dad and used to create his cybernetic body. How he discovered it, what exactly happened to Cyborg is not explained but again shows another example of how a solo film would’ve greatly benefited this movie.

Imagine a Cyborg movie where we setup everything about what the mother box does and the Justice League movie only needs to explain where it came from. Don’t worry you don’t need to imagine it because again the MCU did it the right way with the Captain America film setting up the powers of the Teseract and in “The Avengers” they expand upon it.

(Seriously, if we’re going to try to emulate the MCU here at least follow the blue print correctly!)

Anyways, Steppenwolf gets all the mother boxes together (hilariously easily, as previously stated) and puts them together to create another generic doomsday device. Now this plot device is a problem across a lot of action movies, especially super hero flicks, but it would help if the film made it clear what the hell these three items combined do exactly.

Steppenwolf arrives in Russia to combine the boxes and “reshape” the world (whatever that means) and it begins creating some weird vortex around the encampment along with his parademons and all hell breaks loose both figuratively and literally. Again, the movie doesn’t go much into why or how these mother boxes use their power and without that context it’s hard to care about what’s going on beyond the fact that earth is some vague sense of world destruction.

(Still not dumber than this scene though...)

It’s not exactly clear who’s to blame here between Zack Snyder’s original cuts and Joss Whedon’s reshoots but clearly the studio over managed this production and the finale feels flat because of it. 

Again these films could’ve benefited from some buildup from origin films for these characters where context can be established, especially for a big plot device like this so we’re not scrambling to make the film both fun and understandable. There’s just too much God damn context missing here and while I have a hard time believing a full Snyder led Justice League movie was perfect in its original form, I have a feeling it was at the very least a little easier to understand.

The studio fucked up, plane and simple.

 Killing Superman was a mistake and bringing him back made it worse…

Anyone knows anything about comic books knows that the original “Death of Superman” and its notorious fallout were controversial to say the least. The original 11-issue series and its follow-up marked basically the end of death in comic books and established that characters can die and come back thus eliminating in some ways the tension of danger they face in their stories.

There was absolutely no need to kill Superman in “Dawn of Justice” and given how little his character was built up through barely two movies it was hard for anyone, outside of rabid DC fan boys, to care that he bit the dust especially when it was obvious he was coming back. Killing him off and bringing him back may have been effective later in this franchise (assuming it ever makes it there) but giving him the ax in just the second movie when your big hero teamup was just around the corner reeked of over compensating for a poor script by using a heroic sacrifice that would ultimately be meaningless in the end.

(Also, how did NO ONE think this looked awful at Warner Bros in post production?? #Mustachegate)

This dumb move rolls into “Justice League” and creates a new set of problems that makes the story even more nonsensical. It was hard to imagine Snyder going with the original “hibernation” angle from the comics to revive Superman but what he decides to do otherwise is both weird and a little crazy.

So the Justice League has finally gotten their hands on the last mother box after a confusing (but nonetheless fun) battle with Steppenwolf. The team is trying to surmise a plan and Bruce comes up with the brilliant idea to use the combined powers of the motherbox and the Kyrtonian incubation tub that created Doomsday to revive Clark Kent. It begins with Flash and Cyborg digging up his grave and it’s about as weird as it sounds and this whole idea has a couple problems with it both thematically and literally.

1)      There is no reason to believe that these combined powers will somehow bring back Superman exactly as he was. It was already confusing enough when Lex made some weird clone hybrid of Zodd that somehow created Doomsday in “Dawn of Justice” but nothing about this incubation chamber says that it can bring the dead back to life. I always interpreted this baffling moment of the movie as Lex either creating a zombie or a clone and it both cases it was ridiculous and so is this idea of using this technology to bring back Clark. Gathering the DC equivalent of Dragon Balls would’ve been less weird and dumb at this point.

Also like why the hell would you even CONSIDER doing that after what happened last time!? After the last movie Batman should’ve kept that idea COMPLETELY off the table!

2)      If we accept that the mother box is the true catalyst to bringing the dead back to life since it worked on Victor Stone why doesn’t Superman comeback as one too? By the logic of this setup Superman would’ve come back part machine too and by the logic of the outcome (Superman coming back as himself) why wasn’t Victor interested in going in himself to cure his malady since the script makes a point of stating he feels miserable in this form? 

3)      The idea that Batman see’s Superman as all they need to stop Steppenwolf really debunks the need for a Justice League when you think about how this was written. Batman is supposed to be this mastermind that comes up with these unique solutions to complex problems. But nope, the script basically goes, “Meh let’s bring Superman back” after getting beat exactly once in the film. The point of a big teamup story like this is to display how well these unique characters work together but instead all this shows thematically is that the Justice League needs Superman and perhaps he doesn’t need the Justice League as he clearly displays just how much more powerful he is compared to everyone including Steppenwolf. There were ways to write in Superman’s return without it being dumb but alas here we are…

Anyways so Superman comes back and of course he has amnesia (conveniently until the script says he doesn’t) and he has a brief throwdown with the rest of team who, as mentioned, he greatly outmatches. Batman states before the initial resurrection that he has a “trump card” in case Superman should turn out to be evil and it ends up being Alfred conveniently driving up and comically dropping off Lois in  front of him just before Clark turns Batman’s head into goo. The whole scene plays out as hilariously as it sounds that the only thing that could’ve made it funnier is if Batman said “Martha” to Superman instead this time (and I’m not putting it past Synder that he may have actually had that in the original rough draft).

(”Do you like me now, Lois? Do you? DO YOU!? *laughs maniacally*”)

Clark, after some alone time with Lois and Ma Kent, arrives in the nick of time to save everyone’s asses and help destroy Steppenwolf (by doing most of the work) and it’s still not exactly clear how they defused the mother boxes. In what could’ve been a heroic return Superman becomes Deus Ex Machina-man due to the poor writing and poor build-up from the previous films and it just left me burying my head in my hands.

 There’s a lot more I can get into here (Yeah, I know) but I’ve already rambled waaaaay too long here (thanks, anybody who sat through this with me). Basically, TL:DR the majority of this films problems have to do with the behind the scenes meddling of the studios and their inability to understand what makes the MCU successful and the result is a hollow, rushed mess. There’s no Marvel bias here, no paid off critics (or at least not enough of them) to tip the scales in favor of Disney and simply put this franchise doesn’t get it.

Trust me, I would loooooove to have a dark alternative to the MCU, I WANT to see a great Justice League movie, it’s getting more and more tiring to see the same generic popcorn flick over and over again churned in by Marvel choosing comedy over substance but that doesn’t change the fact that they are still far sharper films in almost every way compared to the DCEU.

I don’t even think I hate this movie I’m just frustrated by it more than anything.

In a weird way I think this is why I keep watching these DCEU films; because I know at the very least they’ll be different and it’s got that much going for it at least but that’s not enough to make a real franchise. The success of “Wonder Woman” still gives me soooome hope that there is a chance for a great ensemble DC movie in the future and if “The Flash” movie weren’t in production hell I might’ve had excitement for his solo venture given how well he performed here. Hell, this isn’t even the worst or even second worst DCEU movie to date but at some point Warner Brothers needs to look at the problem with more nuance than simply making the films “funnier.”

It’s not entirely too late to fix all these issues but the franchise is once again on life support and the other DC fans, like myself, (not visuals crazed fanboys) are hoping for real change in the writing that pays homage to these great characters instead of being a pale imitation of Marvel’s own.

But until that time comes I guess I’ll just rewatch “Wonder Woman” and fantasize about what might’ve been…

 VERDICT:

*Exacerbated grumbling*

Find you a franchise that looks at you the way Superman looks with a CGIed upper lip...

[aion-rsa]

Jupiter’s Legacy: Mark Millar on the Genesis of His Superhero Story

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Superheroes have a long history. After flying onto the scene more than eight decades ago, led by Superman, along with fellow octogenarians Batman, Wonder Woman, and Captain America, the pantheon of capes-and-tights characters has expanded to include countless more. And as legendary creators made their mark across decades, the origins and powers of these icons transformed almost as frequently as their costumes.

Meanwhile, the superhero team The Union, from the comic book saga Jupiter’s Legacy, have 90 years of consistent fictional history, with a singular overarching story, envisioned by one man: Mark Millar.

After discovering both Superman and Spider-Man comics the same day, at the age of four in Scotland (where he grew up), the now 51-year-old writer would go on to make a significant impact on the superpowered set. But he wanted his own pantheon.

And with Jupiter’s Legacy, Mark Millar has created a long history of superheroes of his own—now set to be adapted as a Netflix series.

“I wanted to do an epic,” he says. “Like The Lord of the Rings, or Star Wars… the ultimate superhero story.”

Co-created with artist Frank Quitely and published by Image Comics in 2013, Millar calls Jupiter’s Legacy his love letter to superheroes—and part of his own legacy.

The story begins in 1932 with a mysterious island that grants powers to a group of friends who then adopt the costumed monikers The Utopian, Lady Liberty, Brainwave, Skyfox, The Flare, and Blue Bolt. Told on a grand scale with cross-genre influences, the story spans three arcs: the prequel Jupiter’s Circle (with art by Wilfredo Torres), Jupiter’s Legacy, and the upcoming June 16, 2021 release Jupiter’s Legacy: Requiem (featuring art by Tommy Lee Edwards). With the May 7 debut of the Jupiter’s Legacy series on Netflix, the story will now also be told in live action.

Millar established himself in the comics industry in 1993 and crafted successful stories including Superman: Red Son, Wolverine: Old Man Logan, The Ultimates, and Marvel Comics’ Civil War—all of which have inspired adaptations and films, and led to him becoming a creative consultant at Fox Studios on its Marvel projects. His creator-owned titles Kingsman: The Secret Service, Kick-Ass, and Wanted, have likewise spawned hit movies.

But compared to Jupiter’s Legacy, none of those possessed such massive scope and aspiration as the story that explores the evolving ideologies of superpowered individuals, and how involved they should be when it comes to solving the world’s problems. Relationships are forged—and shattered by betrayal—with startling violence and titanic action sequences (both part of Millar’s signature style).

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“From Superman and the Justice League to Marvel to British comics—inspired by guys like Alan Moore, and so on, I’ve thrown it in there… it’s got a bit of everything,” he says.

That “everything” extends beyond comic books. Millar drew inspiration from King Kong’s Skull Island, and references the cosmic aesthetic of 2001: A Space Odyssey, which informed the “sci-fi stuff.” The writings of horror author H.P. Lovecraft “were a big thing for me,” when it came to The Island, created by aliens, “that existed before humanity, and that these people are drawn out towards where they get their superpowers.” The character Sheldon Sampson/The Utopian is a Clark Kent/Superman type, but his cohort George Hutchence/Skyfox is more than a millionaire playboy stand-in for Bruce Wayne. Rather, Millar based him on British actors from the 1960s—Peter O’Toole, Oliver Reed, Richard Burton, Richard Harris—who were suave rascals.

“I loved the idea of a superhero having a good time, getting on with girls, drinking whisky, smoking lots of cigarettes,” Millar said.

At the risk of sounding “so pretentious,” Millar jokes, he also pulled from Shakespeare. Indeed, the comics are as much a family saga as a superhero one (and written by the much younger brother of six whose parents died before he was 20). Utopian is a father to his own disappointing children, and a father of sorts to all heroes. He is Lear as much as he is Jupiter, the Roman god of gods. The end of his reign approaches, and various factions have their own appetite for power—such as his self-righteous brother who thinks he should be a leader, or Utopian’s son, born into the family business of being a hero, but who could never live up to his father’s expectations, or his daughter who is more interested in fame than heroism. 

He views Jupiter’s Legacy as more thoughtful than Kick-Ass, Kingsman, or Wanted. The plot’s driving action hinges on a debate about the superheroes’ philosophies and moral imperatives. It seeks to address a question Millar asked when he was a kid reading comics.

“Why doesn’t Superman solve the world’s problems?” he recalls thinking. “Why didn’t he interfere and stop wars from even existing?… Is it ethically wrong to stand aside and just maintain the status quo, especially when the status quo creates so many problems for a lot of people?”

On one side of the debate, Utopian believes interfering too much with society’s trajectory is a bad move. It’s not that he is cynical; quite the opposite. He thinks things are actually improving in the world. His viewpoint is there are less people hungry across the globe than ever before, and less people with disease. Millar describes Utopian as a “Truth, Justice, and the American Way” kind of hero, to borrow a phrase associated with Superman, and believes capitalism works. As his hero name suggests, Utopian thinks a better world is within reach, even if it takes generations, and encourages even the heroes to be patient and trust people to do the right thing because they are innately good.

“He says, if you look at the difference somebody like Bill Gates has made in Africa—just one guy—if you look at capitalism taken to the Nth degree, then it pulls everybody up, and poverty in places like India, is massively better just compared to a generation ago.”

Besides, as Utopian says to his impatient brother Walter/Brainwave, in Jupiter’s Legacy #1, being a caped hero doesn’t make them economists and, “Just because you can fly doesn’t mean you know how to balance a budget.” Plus, the notion of using psychic powers or brute force to simply make the world “better” is out of the question. Or is it?

The mainstream awareness of superheroes baked in from more than 80 years of stories, and the shorthand that especially comes with 13 years of the Marvel Cinematic Universe commercial juggernaut, has provided Millar with a set of archetypes to lean into. It was true of the hero proxies in the Jupiter’s Legacy books, and he says it’s true of the show. In fact, he says audiences are so sophisticated with regards to these types of characters they’ll be able to immediately slip into his universe, and that “a lot of the hard work has been done for us.” He adds that audience literacy with superhero tropes also provided him something to push against.

“The Marvel characters lock these guys up in prison at the end of these movies,” Millar says. “Everything’s tied up neatly with a bow, the rich are still the rich, the poor are still starving, and the superheroes aren’t really doing anything for the common man in any very global sense. These guys have just had enough of that.”

Millar’s comics technically kick off in 1932, when Sheldon first brings his friends on a journey to The Island, but his story goes back to 1929 when the stock market crashed, and the Great Depression began. This is likewise when the Netflix series will begin, and Millar says it’s because of the historic parallels between then and 2021.

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“We’ve been in a similar situation as we are now: there’s impending financial collapse coming out of a global pandemic,” he says. “The idea is that history continues and repeats itself, and people make the same mistakes over and over again, and the superheroes are saying, ‘Let’s actually fix everything.’”

Continuing the theme of parallels, when discussing the inception of Jupiter’s Legacy with Millar, The Godfather Part II comes up more than once because of the film’s dual storylines following Vito Corleone and son Michael, separated by decades. However, while the comics contain some flashbacks, the plot doesn’t unfold across different time periods simultaneously. But the Netflix series will shift between eras, with half of the show during the season taking place in 1929, for which Millar credits Steven S. DeKnight, who developed the series.

“The way Steven structured it was really brilliant, because I saw these taking place over two [different] years,” Millar says. “[But] The Godfather Part II track shows you the father and the son at the same age and juxtaposes their two lives.”

As a result, he says the series is a visual mash-up of genres that’s both classical and futuristic.

“It just feels like a beautiful period movie, then when it gets cosmic, and it gets to the superhero stuff, it’s a double wow… it’s like seeing Once Upon a Time in America suddenly directed by Stanley Kubrick doing 2001.”

This is a notable advantage to bringing the story to television, as opposed to making Jupiter’s Legacy three two-hour films as he originally planned with producer Lorenzo di Bonaventura in 2015. Millar says that to tell the Jupiter’s Legacy story properly on screen would require 40 hours, and with a series, what would have been a one-minute flashback in a movie can now be revealed in two hours of its own. 

It was another director who has since made a name adapting ambitious comic book properties that extolled to Millar the benefits of television: James Gunn. When Gunn (Guardians of the Galaxy, The Suicide Squad) had a chat with Millar about the project, Gunn said it could never be done as a movie. “The smartest guy in the world is James Gunn,” Millar says.

An exciting challenge of adapting his work for television is that the series will expand on the backstories and concepts of the books. For example when Sheldon Sampson and his friends head to The Island in the first issue, it takes up six pages. Within the series, half of the first season is that journey, and what happens when they arrive.

“Six issues of a graphic novel are roughly about an hour and 10 minutes of a movie; for something like an eight-part drama on TV, you really have to flesh it out,” he says. “It just goes a little deeper than what I had maybe two panels do.”

He emphasizes, however, that these flourishes won’t contradict the comics. Though he sold Millarworld to Netflix, he remains president so he can maintain control of his creations.

Overall the series has made the writer realize the value of television, and while a second season has not yet been confirmed, he’s already thinking about a third and fourth, and how it will dovetail with the upcoming Requiem. The story that began in 1929 continued through 2021, and collected in four volumes, will soon continue far into the future in the concluding two volumes.

“We saw the parents, then we have the present, and then we see their children in the next storyline,” he says. “That storyline goes way off into the future where we discover everything about humanity, superheroes, all these things. It’s a big, grand, high-concept, sci-fi thing beyond that.”

Listening to the jovial Millar discuss the scope of his Jupiter universe, which is imbued with optimism, one might not think this is the same person known for employing graphic violence in his works.

He thinks his films especially are violent yet hopeful, and fun. Kingsman is a rags-to-riches story, and “you feel great at the end of Kick-Ass, even though you’ve seen 200 people knifed in the face.” But he doesn’t consider his writing to fit under the dark-and-gritty label, and he’s not interested in angst, which he finds dull. With Jupiter’s Legacy, the comic and the show, he views the tone as complex but not “overtly dark.”

Additionally, Millar says he thinks society needs hopeful characters such as Captain America, Superman, and yes, The Utopian in 2021—as opposed to an ongoing genre trend of heroes drowning in pathos.

“The Superman-type characters are just now something from a pop culture, societal point of view, we need more than ever,” he says. “The last thing you want is seeing the world as dark, as something that makes you feel bad. Never forget Superman was created just before World War II in the midst of the economic depression by two Jewish kids who were just scraping a living together… I just think it’s so important when things are tough to have a character like that that makes you feel good.”

Even though Utopian suffers for his idealism in the comic, Millar says his ideas are passed on. This is The Utopian’s legacy. 

“Ultimately, he wins if you think about it,” ponders Millar.

After a successful career spent creating characters and re-shaping superheroes with 80 years of history, the new pantheon of Jupiter’s Legacy may become one of the defining and lasting features of Mark Millar’s own legacy. 

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Jupiter’s Legacy premieres on Netflix on May 7. Read more about the series in our special edition magazine!

The post Jupiter’s Legacy: Mark Millar on the Genesis of His Superhero Story appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[tamzaraaaa-blog]

Artifacts that show growth: Top 10 Blog posts and Top 5 blog post responses

 TOP 10 BLOG POSTS (DESCENDING ORDER)

Connecting the Dots: 

    This summer I read the book The souls of the black folk by W.E.B Dubois. It was a book that mainly one of the many problems of the 20th century; "the color-line". He writes from the perspective of an African American man struggling to earn his rights. He continuously expresses his views on living life at the mercy of your race. 

     He mostly focuses on the regressions caused by the emancipation proclamation especially in the south. He also writes about the establishment of Freedman's Bureau and its role in the reconstruction of the nation after the civil war. He centers his book around to themes; the idea of "double consciousness" and "the Veil". Double Consciousness refers to the idea that every African American must live with the struggle of balancing two inconsistent identities that can't be combined. They must balance their ideal "American identities" with the black experience that they inherited from the remnants of their ancestors who were born into slavery. This compliments the second theme of living under "the veil". He describes the theory of "the veil" in terms of living on the other side of the color line. He stresses he importance of the black experiences and how that experience can only be gained from living on the other side of the color line. 

    It was hard for me to find a connection with this book because I have never truly experienced what it's like to live on the other side of the color line. I do however, know the significance of the black experience and how it affected those who came before me. This book did not really challenge my beliefs but it did enhance them. One challenge narrated in this book was the struggle of balancing both identities and I was able to connect with that theory. Having to incorporate both the ideal American identity with the black experience in their daily lives is a struggle I can relate to even though they had to do it while under the prejudice of living behind the color line. From this book, I was able to learn what it truly means to earn the black experience and how difficult it was to live under "the veil" while still trying to achieve the ideal standards of an "American Identity".

Making Meaning from the News: 

This article was about a sexual harassment claim filed by Shailja Patel against Tony Mochama. Patel claimed that writer and journalist, Tony Mochama, had sexually assaulted her at an event. She quickly took to various social media platforms to tell her story and never shied from public bashing Mochama every chance she got. Soon after these allegations took to twitter and took a large toll on Mochama's career. He claims he lost scholarships, guest lectures, business opportunities, friends and many more. Due to the backlash he faced, Mochama decided to sue Patel for her "false allegations". He ended up wining the case in which Patel was forced to pay a 9 million shilling fine and officially apologize to Mochama. She refused to do and went into a self imposed exile claiming she would rather go into exile than apologize to Mochama.     Patel was very quick to take to social media to tell her story. She told majority of it on twitter. Along with Ms Wambui Mwangi, she took to twitter to publicly bash Mochama and ruin his otherwise perfect reputation. The only thing she failed to do was file an actual police report, reporting his actions. She never filed a case and never went to the police about it. There is currently an ongoing debate on whether Patel was telling the truth because if she should have gone to the police first. This issue arrived when he decided to sue her and even then she neglected to counter sue him.     The opposing side of this debate sympathizes with Patel and understands the struggle of coming forward about an assault. They argue that the act itself is hard enough on women, it is often even more traumatizing to be degraded in court. She also appealed o our sympathy when she claimed she would rather go into exile than have to apologize to Mochama for what he did to her.     As for my perspective, I want to believe that Patel is being honest. There have been a few other reports regarding Mochama's aggressive behavior towards women and a few of his friends have suggested that these allegations could be true about him. Even his wife left him after hearing all of this. The one thing I think she should have done differently is she should have gone directly to the police when it happened. Even if she delayed a bit on that she should have at least countersued him when he sued her. Overall I think Patel was telling the truth I just think she went about it the wrong way. 

Learning from Writing Mentors: 

   Stephen King starts of this book by explaining to us some of his earliest childhood memories. He makes it a point to focus on what he thought was his most painful childhood experience. He compares that single experience to many others and claims nothing came close in comparison to the pain he felt on that day. This is how he uses the rhetorical appeal of ethos. Rather than start the book off with facts and advice he chose to give us insight on what his childhood was like and how significant it was in his journey as a writer. He uses a very light hearted voice during the first couple chapters because this is when he is describing his childhood to us. 

   One very useful piece of advice he gave concerned the knowledge behind good story ideas. He said there were no short cuts to finding good story ideas. They seem to appear from void. It is not our job to create these "good story idea' but to recognize them when they show up. It's as if he is saying that we are constantly plagued with good story ideas but in order to become a decent writer, we have to recognize the good ideas when they come. This is a strategy I will definitely be incorporating into my writing. Conjuring up a good idea can be a challenge but when it hits you, it often hits ant the most random times. The challenge for me will be to wait until a good idea hits me. I'm a very fast-paced person and not a very patient one so he concept of awaiting a good idea is very foreign and quite simply unrealistic to me. It will be a very big challenge for me.

What's Education For? Education can be a very complex and sometimes prejudiced system of learning. As shown in the article "Best in Class" by Margaret Talbot, in education is what leads to a prosperous future but, at what cost? The idea that education is the only thing that leads to a prosperous future is an idea that has been stressed globally across multiple schools but success comes at a cost. As per my opinion, the problem with the education system is it has lost track of the true meaning of education. School has stopped becoming about learning. Students now focus their attention on passing instead of actively absorbing the materials taught. This is mainly a result of the common belief that success can only be achieved through a higher education. As shown in the documentary, school comes with a lot of academic stress and sometimes parental pressure. Idris' father was very hard on him when it came to his scholarly achievements and Seun had to leave Dalton after failing a class due to academic stress and a little prejudice. I think we need to work towards reforming the education system so that kids can once again feel the joy of learning. A lot of academic stress comes from the pressure of homework. I can understand why some teachers assign homework and why it can be essential to our education but an over supply of this becomes taxing and tedious. It would be beneficial to students if we did not receive as much work as we do now because, this results in students driving to complete their work rather than learn from it. It would also be beneficial to do more interactive activities within the classroom so that we can eliminate our workload after school and have more time in class to resolve any inquiries we may have.

News Evaluation 2: Shooting at South Carolina Bar leaves 2 dead and 8 wounded

The shooting happened early Saturday morning near Lancaster, South Carolina. The shooting occurred at around 2:45 am and it was said that the gunman was still at large. 10 people were shot. Two people were killed and 8 were injured in this tragic act of terrorism. The motive of the shooter was unclear but it was thought to have been a result of local conflict. The Sheriff declined to discuss the incident but, he said that one of the victims that was killed was involved in the local conflict that had been occurring for a couple of months. I think this is a horrible act of terrorism and no "local dispute" can excuse the act of intentionally harming nearly a dozen people. Of course, this goes back to the issue of gun laws in the U.S. I do believe stricter gun laws are what we need to keep situations like this from happening again. This is only one of multiple mass shootings that have occurred recently and the only solution I see is restricting the usage of guns. Unfortunately, I find that the reason stricter gun laws have not been incorporated into the legislature is because the republican party is largely funded by the National Riffle Association (NRA). Because of this, the government is hesitant to abolish the second amendment even if It means multiple losses of innocent lives. 

News Evaluation 3: Italy to lend Leonardo Da Vinci works to France in a Masterpiece Swap

Da Vinci's famous drawing Vitruvian man will soon be transported to Paris to participate in a block buster Leonardo da Vinci art exhibition at the Louvre. The Vitruvian man is a drawing that exhibits the study of the proportions of the human body. However, it is only one in a series of art works that museums in Italy are transporting over to the Louvre. This art show will mark the 500th anniversary of the Renaissance master's death. As part of the exchange, the Louvre has agreed to transfer over several masterpieces made by another Renaissance master; Raphael. These masterpieces include "Self Portrait with a friend" and "Portrait of Baldassarre Castiglione". Both parties treat this as a sort of exchange of cultures. At first, a diplomatic dispute broke out between the two countries over the issue of sending over multiple of Davinci's pieces during a major anniversary year. The Italian undersecretary for culture claimed "Leonardo was Italian and he only died in France." It wasn't until later that both countries cultural ministers began working towards reconciliation and claimed "Now more than ever , it is essential for culture to be at the heart of European policies both because it is a tool for creating a shared sense of citizenship, and because it is a great opportunity for economic growth." I agree with this statement. An exchange of paintings like this not only stimulates cultural and economic growth on both parties but it also helps honors the Renaissance artist for their marvelous work. An exchange such as this one should liberate the world of art and revere the creators of such beautiful masterpieces. Da Vinci may have only died in France but that connects him to the cultural world of France. Not only did Leonardo die in France but the Louvre in holds some of his finest and most recognizable work including the Mona Lisa and a portrait of a woman known as La Belle Ferrionnière. France was a major part of da Vinci's history as it was his final journey and resting place. Both France and Italy have chosen to honor that and in return, France agreed to send over some of Raphael's most exquisite pieces. I only wish I could be there to witness the 500th anniversary exhibit of Da Vinci.

Telling Stories: All the single Ladies In this article, the author describes her less than enjoyable experience at her best friends wedding. At the beginning, Doll describes to us the apprehension she felt when she heard a masculine voice say "All the single ladies to the dance floor". It was made clear in the next paragraph that she wasn't the only one with feelings of apprehension as her friend pulled her close and they devised a plan to go hide out in the washroom. Sadly it did not work. In the next couple of paragraphs she talks about her relationship with the bride and groom. The bride and her were apparently very close friends until she decided to marry a man that Doll simply could not approve of. She characterized her friends decision to get married by absolutely refusing to pick up the brides bouquet of flowers when it landed footsteps away from her during the bouquet toss. She saw it as an act of condoning and accepting the union of her best friend and this man and she simply could not do it. The structure of each paragraph in this article is very autonomous. Each paragraph describes different parts of the story while still providing us with the context we need to understand the article. This helps the article flow a bit more. As per her choice of word and her sentence structure it is clear she is using the rhetorical appeal of pathos to entice her readers. I feel like this, along with the independence of each paragraph, are what makes this article so captivating. The style of writing she uses reflects on how she wants us, as readers, to feel about her article.

Thank You For Arguing Reflection Throughout this chapter, and majority of this book, the author used a lot of pop cultural references as evidence to back up his claims. Particularly in chapters 12-13, Heinrich really goes in depth when describing useful argumentative tools. In these chapters he focused on learning and utilizing the skills of inductive and deductive logic. He successfully manages to explain to his readers the importance of beginning your argument with a very broad opening and then narrowing it down to specific facts (deductive logic) and beginning your argument with a very precise fact and then opening it up to a wider spectrum. However, the tool I found to be the most interesting while reading this book would be the art of finding a common place. Commonplaces are words and phrases that reflect the audience’s core values. This tool is crucial to arguments because it condenses a lot of complicated ideals into just a few seconds of material, enough to successfully gain the approval of your audience. Another interesting section of the book was in chapter 12 when the author listed several different approaches to an argument. Traditionally, the best way to defend an argument is through evidence. Unfortunately, I find some evidence is also really easy to counter-argue. If this is the cause you could always attempt to redefine the term and if that doesn't work, argue the importance of your opponents statements. So far, I have found that Thank You for Arguing is actually quite an enjoyable book. I a learning new tools and techniques to use not just in speech but also in my writing and overall, I am learning a lot more about argumentative tools and how to skillfully use them.

Is there a role for public shaming? Discuss. I absolutely do not agree with the concept of public shaming as a punishment. I agree, using a concept like public shaming as a method of punishment is actually a very effective punishment however, it does more harm both morally and socially than it does good. Take Monica Lewinsky for example. Shaming not only exposed what she did but it also made her vulnerable to various attacks online that diminished her sense of worth as a human being. As shown in the Scarlet Letter, both Dimmesdale and Hester experienced some form of shame. While Dimmesdale’s shame was mostly internal, Hester experienced full on public shaming in front of the whole town for her transgressions. Her punishment did not end there. After her release from prison, Hester was forced to bear the scarlet letter A on her dress so that everyone would know that she was an adulterer. In some sense, the punishment was successful but it was also a demoralizing and humiliating process that some people are not strong enough to handle. Yes, actions do have consequences and most of the time shaming is used as a ploy to keep people in check. However there must be a different way to achieve this goal without demoralizing anyone

TOP 5 COMMENTS

Connecting the dots: Hidden Figures

Having read this book before, I also loved their devotion to overcome racial and gender barriers. They were indeed very inspirational and worked tirelessly to ensure that women were never overlooked and were just as capable of achieving greatness as men were.

News Evaluation 2: Justin Trudeau: New video of Canada's PM in blackface

The act of blackface is horribly racist and very very offensive but I agree with you. Trudeau has changed and he has seen the errors of his ways. He has seen exactly how much of a bad decision he made doing this and acknowledged that rather than deny or try to defend his actions. Instead he took responsibility and apologized. Yes, blackface is a horribly racist act and should not go unpunished. He has already faced a lot of backlash from the media and his people and this has done quite a bit of damage to his campaign. I don't think we should dwell on something that happened so many years ago especially since he has acknowledged and apologized for his mistake.

News Evaluation 2: Ugandan President Museveni seeks mandatory death penalty for murders after nephew's slaying 

I admire how you sympathized with Museveni. The loss of a family member is incredibly painful and my own heart goes out to him. I agree with what you said about Museveni thinking with his heart not his head. When it comes to the death penalty I feel like we, as humans, shouldn't be the ones to decide who lives and who dies. If someone is convicted because of murder, we shouldn't decide whether or not to take their life. It's not humane.

Making meaning from the News: Liu Yifei: Mulan boycott urged after star backs Hong Kong police

The controversial debate on whether or not it is considered culturally respectful for Disney to portray Mulan the way the original movie did it is a huge one. A lot of fans would like to see the original Mulan movie but unfortunately it highlights a lot of China's ancient cultural aspect so its hard to do that while still being respectful.

Learning from Writing Mentors: Bird by Bird - Anne Lamott  I agree with the writers idea if abandoning perfectionism. I also struggle with this when it comes to my writing because I feel like everything I write has to live up to an unrealistic standard of perfection. I think its the same for most people. Perfection can be defined in multiple ways by multiple people so living up to this standard of perfection is basically impossible because everyones definition of perfection is different. We should just abandon it :)

EDUCATION TED TALK - SOAPSTONE ANALYSIS

Pathos - It is almost as if he tried to guilt us into believing his story/ sympathizing with his story

Ethos - In order to convince his audience he uses his personal experiences which makes him seem more knowledgable about the topic. 

S - Roy Bunker O - The speaker visited a village and decided to complete his schooling there. He speaks of his experiences and his accomplishments A - All viewers of the Ted Talk P - He spoke not only to educate us on the matter of quality education, but also to describe the importance/unimportance of it.  S - Education/various teaching methods/accomplishments are equally effective and higher education is meaningless if you don’t learn. Women have vast power in knowledge TONE -  His tone was very authoritative and informative. He wanted us to see the proper value of education and all of his points were focused around the notion of importance in education. 

[sanguineascent-blog]

Headcanons > Blood of Noxus

Okay, so I finally read the comic fully, and honestly, I’m keeping most of it because my goal is to accept new lore as much as I can here instead of refuting it outright. But I’ll summarize exactly what this means for Darius.  ***Please note that these are my personal headcanons based on the comic, and are in no way canon to what occurred, it is simply my interpretation and how I will be incorporating it into my portrayal of Darius. I would appreciate if no one reblogged this from me except for @theblogofdraven​ ***

When they were younger, Darius was in love with Quilletta, a sort of childhood friends turned lovers scenario. They had some pretty lofty romantic goals about conquering the world together, as young people often do. 

Despite their relationship, Draven was never a third wheel really, as Darius would pick him over Quill in most scenarios (as displayed in the comic). They were all 3 a pretty tight knit group. 

Captain Cyrus convinced Darius to join the Noxian Army, and Darius did so as he, at the time, saw this as a way to further his goals of Conquering the World. Quilletta joined as well for similar reasons. Draven followed suit, but not for the same reasons. 

Darius trusts Draven more than anyone else, but not blindly so. Draven has proven a capable warrior on field assignments despite his job as the Glorious Executioner and Darius has faith in his ability.

Darius and Quill dated through their early twenties until they were split up on assignment, approximately 26 years ago. 

Upon their return from their assignments, they were still together, but due to the Noxian military strategies of the time, Quill was beginning to have doubts. She and Darius would fight, and eventually split up romantically shortly after, though they remained on civil terms. 

Decius was adopted as a child shortly after she and Darius split up as a way to move and on and sort of fill the void that cropped up for her now that there is a rift between her and her two childhood friends, who were basically her family. Since she no longer has a family, she wanted to start a new one, but was not ready to take on another romantic partner.

Nine years ago after the chemical bombings in Coeur, was when their relationship was really severed and he chose that she lose her arm rather than die, not only because she could still serve Noxus, but to give up on life because of pain was weakness in his eyes.

Darius goals for conquering the world remained in tact, he simply no longer sought to do so with Quill at his side anymore, as she was not willing to take the ‘necessary sacrifices’ to do so. 

Shortly after the loss of her arm,  Quilletta begins to lose faith in Noxus due to their methods of fighting the campaign in Ionia, as well as Darius’ order to take her arm. She felt betrayed by her country as well as her childhood friend and former lover. A number of years after, her son Decius dies at war, so she defects, that having been the last straw.  

They have been enemies since, but deep down they do still care for each other to a point because of their past, they simply can’t coexist peacefully because their ideals are now so at odds. 

She uses her political power to try and take back Basilich, invoking the loyalties of some higher authorities there whom she’s known for decades that were from the city. They take their independence approximately 2 years before she is killed. 

Invetia was adopted as a pre-teen by Quill from a Noxian orphanage a little over a decade ago. Invetia knew of Darius from Quill’s stories, not in person really. Quill intended for Invetia to see things her way about how Noxus was wrong, but where Decius took after his mother, Invetia was a bit too old to be impressionable. She followed her mother because it was expected of her, not because she wanted to, but over the years resented her as she viewed her mother as weak, and she continued to feel strong loyalties and ties to Noxus. The scene where she slices Quill’s neck is essentially the last straw, where becomes fed up with her mother’s ‘ignorance’ and ‘weakness’ and chooses to eliminate her in favor of allowing Noxus to take back Basilich, which is sort of what she wanted anyway. 

The shock of it does get to Darius, as he had always expected to be the one to kill her, and that he’d have time to mentally prepare. He was caught off guard, and as a result did not get that chance, and so he is upset, because he does care for her deep down in the sense that he values what they once had. He mourns the woman he used to know, not necessarily the one in his arms. 

At the end, the rest of Quill’s sentence was going to be, “He was more than just my son, Darius. He was everything I had.” This also, is part of what provokes Invetia, as she had always known Decius was the favored sibling, due to his malleability to conform to Quill’s ideals as opposed to Invetia’s stubbornness. Though she doesn’t get to say it, Invetia knows what she’s going to say, and doesn’t want to hear it again. 

When Invetia says “I learned them from you.” She is referring to Darius as a war-hero, not a father figure, as she’s never really met him or learned from him. He is a symbol of Noxus known across the empire, and one she has looked up to more than her mother. 

To this day, Darius does not know what Quill was going to say. Sometimes, he fears she was going to say that Decius was also his son, but he usually refutes such thoughts, as when he looks back on the timeline, he cannot find a way for that to have been possible. 

Quill died when Darius was 37 (if we are going with the idea that in the first flashback of “22 years ago”, Darius was around 15). Six years have passed since then. 

Some of you may remember my [TIMELINE] of Darius’ lovers before this came out. As a whole, I’m ditching it and marking it obsolete. However, I will pull a few of the women and their scenarios from there and mesh them into this timeline, but I’ll save that for another post for another day. 

[theconservativebrief]

Nike’s new ad campaign featuring Colin Kaepernick sparked outrage among his critics, several of whom demanded a boycott of the brand and took to social media to share pictures of themselves burning its products.

In 2016, Kaepernick, then a member of the San Francisco 49ers, kneeled during the national anthem to draw attention to police killings in communities of color, a protest that critics (including Donald Trump) claimed was unpatriotic. By featuring Kaepernick in its campaign, Nike has positioned itself as an ally to him and, by extension, to the Black Lives Matter movement that shares his stance on policing.

While overall the Kaepernick ad has been a success for Nike — sales jumped by 31 percent shortly after the new campaign debuted — some officials are taking their displeasure with it beyond sneaker burning, with troubling implications. Lawmakers and university officials in states like Louisiana, Tennessee, Georgia, and Missouri are trying to use their influence to get constituencies and colleges to sever ties with Nike. It’s a trend that has led to outcry from the public, civil liberties groups, and legislators with opposing viewpoints.

With the tagline “believe in something, even if it means sacrificing everything,” Nike’s latest ad campaign — marking the 30th anniversary of its “Just Do It” motto — came out on September 3. E. Ben Zahn III, the mayor of Kenner, Louisiana, wasted little time using his political power to retaliate against the company for using Kaepernick in the ad. Two days after the campaign’s release, Zahn issued a memorandum stating: “Under no circumstances will any Nike product or any product with the Nike logo be purchased for use or delivery at any city of Kenner recreational facility.”

Late Wednesday, Zahn rescinded the new rule after the American Civil Liberties Union warned him that it was unconstitutional — but not before his memo had been shared thousands of times on Twitter and sparked a public protest, in which members of the New Orleans Saints participated.

[embedded content]

“The policy violates the First Amendment’s prohibition against content and viewpoint discrimination because it prevents booster clubs and their members from purchasing … types of apparel that you have targeted as political expression,” an ACLU letter to Zahn explained. “Kenner booster clubs and their members have a protected right to exercise their freedom of expression by buying, and wearing, their chosen sportswear at Kenner facilities.”

Other Louisiana lawmakers criticized the policy as well. In a Facebook post, Kenner City Council member Gregory Carroll called Zahn’s memo “disturbing” and said the mayor issued it without his input. And in a statement rebuking the Nike ban, Democratic Louisiana Rep. Cedric Richmond noted that the company donated more than $10 million to the state after Hurricane Katrina and that Louisiana faces problems far more serious than Nike’s Kaepernick-led campaign, including one of the nation’s highest infant mortality rates and one of the poorest educational and health care systems.

“Using the current controversy surrounding Nike’s support of Colin Kaepernick as an excuse to rob resources from those who need it most in Kenner is a clear sign of Mayor Zahn’s pandering at the expense of the very children he is entrusted with guiding,” Richmond said. “… Instead of playing petty politics to score cheap points to the detriment of Little League players, Mayor Zahn should be working on behalf of his entire community.”

Christopher Gilbert, an ethics expert and author of There’s No Right Way to Do the Wrong Thing, said that he’s unsure what Zahn’s motives were, but if he made the decision solely based on his personal views, “it’s not the right answer,” he said. “It’s not ethical. If this person is operating for himself, then there are really questionable ethics here.”

Zahn isn’t the only politician attempting to flex his power to target Nike. Tennessee state Sen. Bo Watson (R) announced on Twitter Friday that he’s calling for the Tennessee Office of Legislative Budget Analysis to review all contracts Nike has with state-funded colleges and universities. At least a handful of such schools wear Nike apparel, and Watson says he simply wanted to know “what it’s costing taxpayers to do business with Nike.”

One Tennessee military veteran told a local TV station that although he doesn’t support Kaepernick, he doesn’t believe Tennessee schools should sever their contracts with Nike because of the company’s ad. But Watson has supporters, including fellow Republican state Sen. Todd Gardenhire, who speculated that the athletic wear company just might have to revise its agreements to maintain its contracts with Tennessee schools.

In their rush to undercut Nike in light of its support of Kaepernick, however, these legislators have seemingly overlooked that in 2015, the corporation opened its largest distribution center in Memphis.

Danny D. Glover, the senior political director of Nashville Mayor Karl Dean’s gubernatorial campaign, pointed out the fact in a viral tweet with the hashtag #YouAreHurtingTennesseans. The concern isn’t just that Nike employs thousands of Tennesseans but that these legislators are behaving as if all constituents share their views on Kaepernick.

“We’ve reached the point where the person’s opinion is the person. But conflict of opinions is the way to get to the truth.”

“We’ve reached the point where the person’s opinion is the person,” Gilbert said. “But conflict of opinions is the way to get to the truth. If we concentrate on Nike the personality or Kaepernick the personality, we miss asking what is that person trying to say. We could have a completely real conversation, and Nike has a chance to open the door.”

College campuses are often portrayed as places with a free exchange of ideas, but two private Christian colleges have taken actions that make it clear that they oppose not only Kaepernick’s viewpoints on police brutality but Nike for using him in its ad.

The College of the Ozarks in Point Lookout, Missouri, is removing all Nike logo uniforms. The move is consistent with the school’s announcement last year that it would refuse to play against teams with members who kneel, sit, or turn their backs as the national anthem plays.

“If Nike is ashamed of America, we are ashamed of them,” College of the Ozarks president Jerry C. Davis said in a statement. “We also believe that those who know what sacrifice is all about are more likely to be wearing a military uniform than an athletic uniform.”

Davis’s statement ignores that numerous service members have expressed support for Kaepernick and that some veterans have been killed by police. It also overlooks that freedom of expression, even expression one finds offensive, is one of the nation’s founding principles.

Another Christian school, Truett McConnell University in Cleveland, Georgia, announced plans to ban Nike products from the campus store because the administration considers Kaepernick to be “a person known for wearing pigs on his socks, mocking law enforcement, kneeling against our flag, and mocking our troops,” TMU president Emir Caner said in a statement. He noted that he and his family find Kaepernick “reprehensible.”

The college will sell all of its current Nike inventory and not restock it. Afterward, students and staffers who disagree with Caner must leave the TMU campus to buy Nike goods. While Caner surely has supporters, his detractors, including TMU students and alumni, have voiced their disapproval with his decision.

As an alumni and donor, you won’t be seeing anymore of my money. Not just because of this, but because you are stuck in 1940. So sorry to cut ties with a place I had so much fun of.

— Theme Park Beer Drinker (@ThemeParkBeer) September 7, 2018

Some have called Caner’s announcement a publicity stunt because the 2,600-student school had already signed a deal with Adidas. And others have said they simply support Nike and enjoy its products.

Caner has acknowledged that some TMU students disagree with him. But his comments on the controversy reveal that he’s yet to separate his personal views from TMU as a whole.

“As a university, I just can’t have a representation of someone that, in my mind, is as unpatriotic as it is,” he told Georgia news station NBC 11. “It’s not something that Truett McConnell University can stand for.”

Original Source -> Some lawmakers and school officials are trying to ban Nike after its Kaepernick ad 

via The Conservative Brief