#I mean- he used to find Oscar kind of annoying but he came around eventually. and he’s never actually admit to enjoying Oscar’s voice

[potato-lord-but-not]

My personal headcanon is also that John is fascinated by human religions and theology, and sometimes will just sit and ask Oscar questions for hours on end. When he finds out that Noel has this whole *OTHER* religion that John knows nothing about he just goes heart eyes.

Noel, having a unique relationship with his own spirituality, is like "well, let's start with things like food" to try and start with something that is a little less raw and lets John start helping him in the kitchen AKA putting him to work with grating and squeezing (spoken from experience of walking into my friend's house and immediately getting press ganged into being an extra set of hands helping with latkes)

Also the idea of John being so proud to share what he's made with Arthur??? T-T fucking adorable

100% ALL OF THIS !!!!!! John loves learning about religion because he now has the ability to be an outside observer instead of the subject of worship. like yes he knows some basics about most religions but it’s the little added human aspects that intrigues him the most.

[commander-diomika]

Ah fuck it. Let's get this started. Fandom: Rusty Quill Gaming Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Rating: Gen Word Count: ~1000 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Rating Will Change to Explicit in Later Parts, Opposites Attract Summary: Zolf and Oscar Wilde find their way back together as the world falls apart. This is the first in a series of scenes through the time skip and beyond with eventual canon divergence, exploring trans masc Oscar Wilde, with background Barnes/Carter.

Posted as a series as most scenes will be able to stand alone as snapshots, and different scenes will have different ratings.

The Meritocratic Offices, Cairo.

“Wilde.” Zolf leant on the doorframe, arms crossed. They’d made him leave his glaive at the front, but his flat eyes and tone still managed to exude a threat. “Got your letter. Can’t say I was pleased to hear from you.”

Wilde looked up from the desk with tired eyes. It was not the face of the man that Zolf had met in London only six months ago. His hair was too short, for one, and it made his face look thinner, once-soft features sharp. Zolf was willing to bet if he’d cast Detect Magic, there wouldn’t be a speck of illusion on the man. Zolf hid his shock, lips barely twitching. After all, Zolf wasn’t the same dwarf either, sporting stark white hair and standing on two seemingly good legs.

“Ah, but you came, didn’t you?” Wilde’s smile, on the other hand, hadn’t changed. His smile said he was winning a game you hadn’t even learnt the rules to yet, and not for the first time Zolf wondered why he’d let the Harlequins talk him into dropping his investigation to heed this man’s summons.

“Of all the people in the world you could’ve tracked down, why me?” Zolf asked flatly.

Wilde stood. “Shut the door, if you please.” Zolf stepped in, obliging.

Unlike some of the other lavish appointments Zolf had seen Wilde take up residence in, this office was cramped, undecorated, and its walls were in need of another coat of whitewash. There was only one chair on this side of the desk, and it didn’t look like it would hold up to Zolf’s bulk. He stayed standing.

Wilde leant his hips on the front edge of the desk. He was moving gingerly, as if recovering from an injury, but as he leant back Zolf could see his demeanour shift, that insufferable entertainer’s persona wrapping around him like a cloak.

“I heard about the work you were doing for the Harlequins, on the weather abnormalities. I also heard that you were stalled, somewhat.”

Zolf grunted by way of reply. When Wilde didn’t continue, Zolf felt his impatience spark. “That’s not really Meritocrat business, now is it? What's really goin’ on here? Your letter weren’t exactly illuminating.”

Wilde examined his nails.

Zolf resisted the urge to Create Water over the top of Wilde’s head. When he’d decided to come here, he promised himself that he was going to be better. He’d changed. The fact that this was the man most able to get under his skin would only help make those changes stick. Hopefully.

“Those labels are meaning less and less, these days.” Wilde’s eyes met Zolf’s as though searching for something.

Zolf closed the small distance between them and grabbed Wilde by the lapels. Well, six months wasn’t a very long time for a dwarf, and change was hard. “Stop. Stop bein’ enigmatic and tell me what I’m doin’ here, Wilde. I know you could’n give a straight answer to save your life but if you don’t give it a shot, I’m leavin’.” Wilde flinched as he was pulled into a stoop, eyes skittering off Zolf’s face, now mere inches from his own.

He took a deep breath. “The Meritocrats have been compromised. Cult of Hades. Badly.”

Zolf let go. “… Alright then,” he said. It was half acknowledgement, half peace offering.

Wilde straightened, smoothed hands down his lapels, wincing slightly. “It’s true. There’s almost no one here I can be sure of. I asked you to come and work for me because, quite frankly, things are breaking down, and you’re the only one left.” The mask slipped and for just a flash, there was something so vulnerable on that face. The only what left, Wilde didn’t specify.

“Your old mercenary group left untapped leads, and I think I know the next steps. I’ve been trying to play the game from the inside, but any usefulness that might have been wrought here, is coming to an end.” His voice was high, emotion cracking through. He shifted back to lean against the desk again, tried to regain his usual composure, and failed. “On top of all that, I’m being hexed from a distance and have to wear anti magic cuffs twenty-four seven.” He knocked his ankles gently together with a metallic clink. Ah. That explained the lack of illusions, then.

Wilde took a shaky breath, and Zolf could see that he was dragging words up from a place rarely accessed. “I need help, Zolf. And I need to not be in this alone.”

Zolf felt a brief flash of guilt for manhandling this shadow of Wilde’s former self.

“Is that straight forward enough for you?” Wilde asked with a bitter drop.

That was a lot of take in. He’d known things were bad from his work with the Harlequins; but it was one thing to hear rumours and theorization, another to hear it straight from the inside. Heedless of his earlier assessment of the chair, Zolf sat heavily. “I… yeah. That’s rough.”

Wilde flicked his head as though to stop the kind words landing on him. As far as Zolf was concerned, it worked. He promptly abandoned his brief foray into sympathy for Wilde, and straightened back up.

“Also, back up a minute. Work for you?” Wilde started to smile again, his face becoming one that begged to be dunked in a bucket. Gods but this whole interaction was setting Zolf back. “Let’s get one thing clear. If I’m helpin’ you - and I’m not saying that I am - this time we work together. I ain’t gonna be your lackey, and I don’t need a handler. You keep me in the loop, you talk to me, and we work as a team.”

“Of course, Zolf. I accept your terms.” Wilde held out his hand primly, once again the picture of a man accustomed to making deals. Zolf saw him tuck that vulnerability back inside, and felt a flash of emotion that was either respect or resentment. “Partners, then?”

Zolf eyed the offered hand. Despite everything Wilde was going through, it was still remarkably well manicured.

“C’mon Zolf. Haven’t we always gotten along swimmingly,” Wilde implored with a tilt of his head and a waggle of his fingertips.

“Don’t.” Zolf said warningly. Resentment, definitely. “Don’t make me regret this.”

Wilde threw back his head and laughed. “Now Zolf, when have I ever given you cause for regret?”

Zolf growled, took the offered hand in his, and shook.

[marwritesgood]

Renewal | O. Diaz

Pairing: Oscar x Martinez!Reader

Timeframe: Chapter 17 (Altered)

Summary: In which the Reader has her baby shower.

masterlist // part one

A/N: Consider this a part two to ‘Collateral’.

After my wound healed, and I was able to pick up a laundry basket without wincing in pain, I decided to stay living at home with my family. I was eventually going to move back to my apartment, and share it with Spooky, where we would raise our baby, but for the time being I chose to stay at home.

On the plus side, this meant having my mother and grandmother taking care of me, no matter how much I insisted of cooking my own dinner. On the other hand, this meant I had my siblings around to annoy the living crap out of me 24/7.

“Y/n, come here!”

“Ugh, what is it Mario?” I groaned from having to get out of my bed and head to the kitchen, where Mario was sorting through out ancient box of party decorations.

“Ma asked me to hang up the decorations,” he explained, as he rummaged through the box, pulling out all of the decorations that were still in good shape. “But I have no idea how she wants it done, and I know you do, so can you help me?”

“You want me to setup my own baby shower?” I retorted. It was disappointing, yet unsurprising that he needed my help doing the one task our mother gave him.

“I thought you didn’t want to call it a baby shower?”

“That’s because the only reason I agreed to do this was for the gifts.”

My mother and Ruby were the ones who forced the idea on me. I personally found the whole idea of it tacky, and unnecessary, but when Ruby told me each guest would have to come bearing a gift, I reluctantly gave in.

“Look, are you gonna help me or not?”

“Fine,” I sighed, before joining him in rummaging through the box.

After we pulled out the streamers, as well as a banner my mother especially bought for the event, Mario went to look for tacks, or anything we could use to hang everything up. I decided to take that as an opportunity to take a seat on the couch and rest my feet.

The moment quickly ended when Ruby and Jamal arrived home.

“You’re being paranoid.”

“I am being perfectly reasonable,” Jamal fired back at Ruby, who head straight to the kitchen for a drink, before slowly walking back to the living room area. “Think about it. Every since we found the money, bad stuff keeps happening.”

“Guys,” I groaned, sitting up and putting my feet back on the ground. “I have a small, yet very aggressive, human inside of me right now. Can you please be a little quieter?”

“Sorry, Y/n,” they replied in unison. As I leaned back and rested my head on the sofa, Ruby noticed the decorations were out and did not wait a moment before giving his opinion. “I cannot believe mom’s using the same decorations... And they misspelled ‘shower’ on the banner!”

“Hey, if you wanna takeover and be event planner, go right ahead,” I muttered, with my eyes still closed. “Ma is having Mario put the decorations up, and he didn’t even know what a streamer was until I showed him... At least with you I know I won’t have to do anything.”

The boy was practically jumping.

“It would be my honour,” Ruby stated dramatically. I could always count on him to escalate small things to another level. “Consider it me fulfilling my first of many duties as an uncle... as the tío she can always count on.”

“Whatever you want,” I droned.

“Jamal?” Ruby looked over to his friend, who was helping himself to a bowl of corn chips. “Call the squad over here. We have a baby shower to plan.”

“Oh god,” I groaned, realising what I had just signed myself up for.

*****

After I assigned Ruby as event planner, he and his friends managed to find an entire new set of decorations using a small amount of the cleaned Rollerworld money. I was surprised, considering how difficult of a time they were having cleaning the money, and how obsessed they were with getting their fair share, but the decision was apparently unanimous. Then, before I knew it, it was the night before the baby shower and Ruby had gone full blown crazy.

“Monse, you call that folding? I’ve seen prettier napkins at McDonald’s.”

Against their better judgements Monse, Jamal and Jasmine agreed to staying the night at my place to help set everything up for the baby shower. According to Ruby, my only job was to sit and relax. Everyone else, on the other hand, had a long list of tasks and a rigid schedule Ruby was expecting them to abide to. One of Jasmine’s tasks was to figure out what I planned on wearing, and convince me to go with the colour scheme Ruby had envisioned.

“I was planning on wearing this,” I stated, before placing my mustard-yellow maternity-friendly sundress on the coffee table for Jasmine to see.

“Right, okay, I see what you’re trying to do,” she said positively. “But, you see, Ruby suggested that maybe you wear your red dress instead. Think about it, it’ll go with the whole theme we got going on, compliment your complexion. Yeah?”

“Alright,” I sighed, knowing that even if I tried to argue with Ruby on this, he would somehow find a way to convince me to go with the red dress. After putting my yellow dress I away, I went back to the living room area to see how the setting up was coming along. “How’s the setting up coming along?”

“I love you, Y/n,” Monse began, looking up from her napkin-folding station at the dining table. “And I love your baby. But I swear to God, if Ruby criticises my folding technique one more time-”

“Monse, this napkin is wrinkly!”

After Ruby did exactly what I feared he would, I watched Monse close her eyes briefly, and take a deep breath in. After slowly exhaling, she abruptly tried to  run out from her seat at the table, and strangle Ruby, but I quickly held my hands out and stopped her.

“Woah, okay,” I muttered, quickly realising how tense everyone was, Ruby and Monse in particular. “Maybe a little break will do you guys some good... Okay, everyone stop what you’re doing, have a seat on the couch and relax. I’ll order some pizza for us, okay? My shout.”

Everyone, even Ruby, did as I said, and seemed to be relieved because of it. I slipped into the kitchen and ordered pizza from my phone, before pouring myself a glass of lemonade. As I took a sip from my cup, Cesar came in.

After New Years, I convinced my mum to let Cesar stay with us while Monse’s dad moved in and out of town. Despite her resentment towards him, it only took reminding her that Cesar was family to Ruby and I for her to agree to let him crash on our couch until Mario goes back at the stat of his semester.

“Cesar? You okay?”

“Are you sure you want me there tomorrow, Y/n?” He asked nervously, after a moment of prolonged silence. As he scratched the back of his head, I put my glass of lemonade down and looked him directly in the eye.

“Are you kidding me?” I said softly. “Of course I want you at my baby shower, Cesar. It wouldn’t be complete without all of my baby’s tío under one roof. I even promised Jamal he’d be a tío.”

“And I’m gonna hold you against that promise,” Jamal shouted from the living room. I could have sworn he had super-hearing abilities.

“It’s just... I know you told my brother not to come, because you wanted me there.”

“Ruby told you?” He nodded, and I made a mental note to confront my brother about that. “Look, okay... Yes, that is why I told Spooky not to come, but I told him it’s not a big thing, and he was totally cool with sitting this one out. Plus, it’s my baby shower, so it’s my call... And I want you there tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiled. “I’ll be there.”

“Plus, my cousin sent me a crib I need to set up, and Mario and Ruby are horrible with using tools and following instructions.”

*****

My baby shower had gone by fast. By the end of it, Ruby and his friends stayed back to clean everything up, which my mother really appreciated, as it meant she could take her time catching up with her cousins. Mario was putting the twins to bed, and Cesar was helping me go through all the gifts people brought.

“I can’t believe my cousin bought my daughter this onesie.”

“She’ll look so cute in it,” Cesar commented, smiling as I held it up for him to see. “I wish I could see how she’d look in it.”

“Well, my due date is in a few months now,” I began, chuckling as I folded the onesie and placed it with the rest of the clothes my relative bought for my daughter. “So soon enough you’ll have a little girl calling you tio.”

“Yeah...” Cesar seemed to be distant. Ever since he came back from his shift at Jamal’s dad’s restaurant, he seemed a lot more gloomy than ever.

“Cesar? Is everything okay?”

In true Diaz fashion, he tried to remain stoic; tried to continue doing what he was doing as if my question didn’t affect him, but I knew better. I knew there was something serious he was hiding.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” I placed my hand on his shoulder and shifted closer to him, lowering my voice so he knew whatever he would say I would keep confidential. “I mean it, Cesar. Tell me what’s going on... please.”

There is an air of silence for a prolonged moment. Cesar inhales sharply, before breaking his stoicism and crinkling his brows together, with tears beginning to well up in his eyes.

“Their gonna kill me Y/n,” he whispered, voice cracking as he said my name.

After Ruby’s drunken outburst that led to a group of Santos breaking the truce, we knew it was only a matter of time before Latrelle would come back to finish what he tried to do at Olivia’s quinceanera. I just didn’t think it would happen so soon.

Before I can even begin to think of something to say, there is a loud knock on my door. I glance at Cesar for just a moment, before standing up to answer the door. However, when I open it, there is no one to be found. All there is left is a painfully familiar item on my mother’s welcome mat.

A bullet. The same kind I had to get surgically removed from my shoulder.

“Y/n?” Cesar whispered in concern, from where he had been sitting. I turn around, so he can see the bullet in between my index finger and thumb, alongside the look of horror on my face.

“We need to go,” I said sharply, giving Cesar all but five second to get up and follow me. I didn’t care that the person who delivered that bullet would have only been a few blocks away. I needed to get this sorted now. Because two people I care deeply about were being threatened- my unborn child, and my pseudo-baby brother.

Therefore, now it was personal.

*****

Despite the fact that my feet had been consistently sore ever since I entered my second trimester, Cesar and I walked all the way to Oscar’s place, and for the first time the pain in my feet was easy to ignore. Once we were two houses away from the Santos crib, I told Cesar to lay low while I talked to his brother.

“Spooky,” I called out, as I walked towards their front porch. I only had to wait a second or two before he came out and greeted me with a smile and a kiss on my temple. It was no wonder why the other guys kept making jokes about him being whipped.

“What’s wrong baby?”

“It’s a long story... but just promise me you won’t be mad.”

“Y/n...” his smile faded so quickly, turning into an almost-glare.

“Please,” I said softly, placing my hands on the sides of his arms, partly to butter him up but mostly to keep him restrained.

“Okay,” he replied, tone still harsh, but you take what you can get with Spooky. “I won’t be mad... now tell me what you did.”

I look down for a moment and try to find a way to articulate the situation in the best way. In a way that would keep Oscar from wanting to knock Cesar out and reprimand me for keeping secrets from him. However, I couldn’t come up with a way to verbally explain, so I opted for a more visual method.

“You can come out now,” I shouted.

As Cesar slowly appeared, stopping at the Santos front lawn, there was a short moment where Oscar remained completely frozen. This moment, however, was very short-lived, because after rubbing his facial hair, he quickly turned back to Cesar and tried to run at him, only for me to block his way.

“What the hell is this?!”

“You said you wouldn’t be mad,” I retorted, trying to reason with him, but it wasn’t working.

“So what we hide shit from each other now? Is that what this is, Y/n?”

“He needed a place to crash, and I knew you’d be like this if I told you.”

“You know fucking well why,” he shouted, making me take a step back. Oscar never scared me, but this was truly uncharted territory perhaps for the both of us. “She show you the scar on her shoulder, Cesar? She ever tell you about nightmares she gets from that night? You ever thought about the people you’ve hurt, or are you just happy to freeload off someone again-”

“-Hey, stop it!” I yelled, pushing Spooky away from Cesar, who he was mere inches away from shoving at this point. Spooky breath heavily, as he catches his breath from yelling so profusely at this brother. All the while, Cesar stood still, ready to take whatever beating Oscar was about to give him.

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Spooky shouted, before spitting in Cesar’s direction.

“Spooky, can you just listen?... Please?” He doesn’t look me in the eye, but he does remain silent, which was enough cue for me to continue explaining myself. “I wouldn’t have come here now if it wasn’t urgent... They’re tryna finish the job... They wanna kill him.”

For a moment it seemed like Oscar was about to give in. It was his natural instinct to protect his brother, so I knew telling him of the danger Cesar was in would make him ease up, but he still wasn’t gonna help him.

“He made this mess, it’s time he takes responsibility for what he’s done... you can’t protect him.”

“No... but you can,” I replied, looking at the father of my child pleadingly. Oscar scoffs and pulls away from my grasp, before turning to the house and making his way back inside. “No- Oscar, baby please...”

Right before he reaches their porch, I pull the bullet from my back pocket and make one last attempt at talking sense into him.

“They came to my house tonight.”

He stopped immediately, before turning back around and walking towards me. This time his expression had washed over with concern, a look I had become incredibly familiar with since becoming his girlfriend, and even more so after becoming his babymama.

I held out the bullet, so Oscar could see it, and as he examined it his eyes only darkened. With a clenched fist and flared nostrils, he shifted his eyes between Cesar and I several times, before patting the pocket of his pants. He always kept his gun on one side and his car keys on the other.

“Both of you. Get in the car.”

Cesar and I did so quickly, understanding the magnitude of the situation. I knew that in due time Oscar would have come around to helping Cesar. However, we didn’t have that kind of time, so I also knew I had to do what I needed to make sure he was on board now.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m taking you home,” he replied shortly, and I knew then that whatever he was about to do was something he wouldn’t tell me until it was done. That’s how it worked when it came to stuff involving Santos. And, despite what he told Cesar in December, he was still very much a Santos. “I’ll call the guys. Make sure at least a few of them are on lookout out here. You ever wanna leave to go anywhere, you call me, okay? I’ll get someone to follow you, make sure you got protection.”

“Yeah, but-”

“I’ll handle it, baby,” he answered, before I could even ask my question. Even when recovering from a fight, he was always on my wavelength. “I promise... They won’t get away with this shit... Imma make sure of it.”

He stops in front of my house, and lifts my hand up, pressing a soft kiss on the back of it before caressing the side of my face. I always hated moments like these. Saying goodbye right before shit goes down. Last time a moment like this occurred, Oscar ended up being locked up for over two years.

Before opening my door, I glanced back at Cesar and then at Spooky. My Spooky.

“You text me the second it’s done, okay?” I whispered, trying not to tear up. Pregnancy hormones and gang violence was not a good combination. “And I swear to God, if anything happens to either of you, I will-”

“Hey,” Spooky whispered, gently rubbing his thumb against the apple of my cheek. “You think I’m gonna let anything keep me from coming home to you?”

“I love you,” I said, nodding as I began to process Oscar’s confidence. I look back at Cesar and gently squeeze his hand. “Both of you.”

And as I walked back into my house, and heard the sound of Spooky’s engine fade as they drove off, I promised I would tell this story to my daughter once she was of an appropriate age. People can say all they want about me, about Spooky and Cesar, and about the Santos in Freeridge. 

But, when push comes to shove, these men will move heaven and earth to protect their people and their community.

[whitleyschn33]

RWBY Volume 8 Episode One: Quick Thoughts

Or not so quick, seeing how long it took me to write this and how much I ended up having to say. Spoilers (duh) under the cut, as this thing got insanely long.

So we open with a maid scrubbing a floor, a shot that lasted long enough I was starting to wonder where it was going before we cut to Cinder. So, Cinder backstory - interesting way to open the volume, but I’m not sure if it’s a good way. At the very least, I would have cut it a couple seconds, or have it flash between Cinder’s face and the flashback. Same information, but given in a quicker manner that lets us know exactly what we’re seeing instead of wonder who this random maid is for 10 seconds.

Whale aircraft carrier. The design is interesting, if looking a bit too clean for my taste. I would’ve liked to see the bones and muscles of the Grimm incorporated into the design a bit more, the surfaces less smooth and more textured, but it looks good.

Facial acting on Neo is good - I appreciate being able to see what’s running through her head, even if it also makes me wonder why Salem isn’t picking up on the obvious tells.

Emerald and Mercury are back and with new outfits; I can hear the diehard EmMerc fans screaming from here. Would’ve liked a better look at the whole outfits (I don’t think there’s even one close up of their entire bodies), but I like Mercury’s! Emerald’s model feels off to me for some reason, like it’s wider or more padded (?) than before, but it’s not a big deal and is probably just a result of her wearing a jacket now.

Oh, yeah, Hazel got one too, don’t care.

Why does the whale have a screen? A connection to one of those seer orb Grimm?

Cinder is still not interesting to me, but I am curious - can one woman hold multiple maiden powers? What happens if one woman holds them all? If they can hold multiple powers, what happens when they die? Do they both/all go to the same person, or would they split?

I like the Faunus that gives Oscar the soup. His design is pretty cute to me (I think he’s a mole Faunus?), and I feel like he’s based on something, but I’m not sure what. Getting a Narnia vibe for some reason, which I’m always on board for.

How did Ruby know where Oscar ended up? Did he call? 

Weiss’s braid looks much better! I’m still not a huge fan of it, but this model is an enormous improvement - it actually looks like hair instead of rope, it’s slicker, and doesn’t look as heavy. Nice job, animators. Blake’s looks better, too, more fluffy, but it’s not as drastic a change to me.

Nice to see the Happy Huntresses actually doing something to help Mantle, and having Joanna(? that’s her name, right?) take charge and be helping Ruby get Oscar back in exchange for their aid is nice. It feels realistic for a situation like this.

And more secret keeping, but in this case, dropping the Oz bombshell would actually probably be a bad idea. There’s enough going on, bringing up Oz being back can wait until tensions aren’t as high.

Why would Ironwood stop evacuation? That makes no sense for his character, and there’s no reason to stop them. Until he gets Penny back, Atlas isn’t going anywhere. Might as well keep evacuating until you can find here, get as many people to safety as possible before getting away. I’d assume the Doylist answer for this is that Mantle still needs to be a factor in any decisions made after this and it can’t be that if we can get everyone evacuated, but that doesn’t make the Watsonian explanation make more sense.

Actually a good plan, getting everyone into the crater if it is in fact warm (why, I wonder? Thermal vents? Heat coming off of Atlas?) solves the cold problem (that people should’ve probably already died from) and having to defend one smaller location is strategically a good option. Corralling people would also make any eventual evac to Atlas easier. There is the small problem of, you know, Atlas literally crushing anyone in the crater if the staff is used on anything else, and Salem is known to be after that Staff, sooooooo -

Okay, maybe a nitpick, but I thought Pierto’s specialty was prosthetics and robotics. Doesn’t seem like something that necessarily overlaps with what’s needed to convert Amity into a satellite. I guess maybe the engine/whatever is going to propel it into the air could be similar to Penny’s boosters/whatever lets her fly, but it doesn’t seem like something that he would be involved in raising Amity. Whatever - I know we need a scientist person to tell these things to RWBY+Co and Pierto is the most likely candidate to be in a position to do that.

It seems like, from Ruby’s dialogue, she both wants to warn the other kingdoms and ask for their help. This has been trampled to death, so I won’t rant, but - there is no one that’s going to be able to help. Argus is hours away, will take time to assemble, and isn’t a very large force to begin with. Mistral is still weakened from V5 and has next to no huntsman, and is even farther than Argus. No idea what’s going on with Vale, but they’re probably still nursing their wounds from the Fall. Vacuo is the only kingdom likely to be able to muster up a force, but they’re on the other side of the map and will take hours, if not days, to get together an army - and that’s if they decide they want to help at all. The other objective was warning the Kingdoms about Salem. Ignoring that Salem is immortal and can just throw as many Grimm as she pleases until the defenses fall, ignoring that the other Kingdoms might not even believe Ruby, what’s to say they won’t go “F*ck Atlas, they’re on their own” and recall every available Huntsman and Huntress to shore up their own defenses? Or what if the other kingdoms just fall into anarchy? Learning an immortal witch with an endless supply of Grimm will come knocking on your doorstep soon tends to cause chaos. Or is Ruby going to leave the whole immortal part out again? I just can’t see what this will accomplish.

Holy shit, it’s actually happening. Dissent from WBY, and it’s coming from Yang of all people - I love it. I wish Yang had gotten to finish her sentence, say something along the lines of “Maybe if we’d told the truth immediately things wouldn’t have gone this way” since that would fit with her “hate secrets” thing she had going on in V5/6, but the fact that Yang is actually questioning Ruby’s leadership and choices - yes yes yes, more of that please, less of the hive mind. I wish it’d come a little earlier, but at this point I’ll take what I can get.

I’m slightly confused at the sides that Ren and Nora are taking here. I like that we’re splitting them up here (we never get to see them separated, and after last volume, I am more than on board with letting Ren get some breathing room), but Ren going with Yang, Jaune, and Oscar to help evacuate Mantle while Nora goes on the “bigger picture” team to get Amity up and running seems weird considering where they were last volume. Nora was always screaming about how the big picture stuff was hurting Mantle, while Ren was pushing to keep training, keep working, support Ironwood and try and work at the big picture problem, so it would seem like they should be on opposite sides. I’m not saying it makes no sense - I can absolutely see Ren feeling protective of towns under attack from Grimm with no Huntsmen in their corner - but it feels like a bit of a 180 from their last positions. 

Did Oscar just call Jaune “John”?

Yeah, if nothing else, don’t let Penny get anywhere near Salem or her cronies. Salem can absolutely not be allowed to get her hands on the Staff, especially with the whole “get everyone to the crater” plan. Squish.

Yang and Blake splitting up, maybe we can actually get some conversations on what the hell is up with them that we should have gotten in V6/V7 instead of petty showing off and Nora projecting.

“But what about Mantle?” “Oh, I’m helping Mantle.” with the same thing you spent all last volume complaining about. Uh-huh, that’s not annoying.

Weiss has an idea on how to get up to Atlas - Winter’s ship, maybe? That one she came in on in V3 was her personal ship, wasn’t it?

Ironwood calls Penny. From the music, it sounds like they were aiming for foreboding and manipulative, but Ironwood just sounds tired, the poor man. Love how Ruby doesn’t even try for a comeback for Ironwood’s argument, really convincing.

Dead Clover, and I hope that he stays that way, because if he’s brought back to life, so much of V6′s themes of life and death and the natural cycle is just going to be spit on (again). Clover is dead, and there should be no way around that save interference from a literal god. Any attempt at bringing him back needs some kind of drawback - some prevision of life, a body that moves but his soul isn’t there, something, please RT, don’t double back on your “Death is permanent” thing again.

And Ironwood did lose his arm completely. It’s an awesome looking prosthetic, but the fact that it’s black when the rest of his prosthetics are silver, combined with the comments made by the CRWBY about Ironwood’s humanity, make me very afraid they’re going to go for some sort of bullshit parallel to Cinder’s black Grimm arm. I do like the orchestral version of Hero playing here, though.

I like Winter’s new hair style - similar enough to her previous one, but looser. Not exactly happy about what that might symbolize, but it looks really good. It looks like she might have nerve damage, though, which would mean she might be off the battlefield until she can get her hands (hah) on some sort of brace to help her move her hands (which might be hinted at in the OP~)

I do really like Ironwood and Winter’s relationship, please don’t f*ck it up, CRWBY.

Is the only thing CRWBY knows how to do to make Ironwood seem like the bad guy shoot people for no goddamn reason? Ironwood was surrounded by loyal soldiers after declaring martial law, there was no reason for him to not just order Slate detained (that one was Slate, right? Not that it matters). The man’s annoying and probably in cahoots with Jacques, but shooting him is out of character, excessive, and makes no sense when he could just be arrested. “It shows he’s slipping -” No. It’s lazy writing meant for shock value and to give characters a reason to go “Oh, he’s going evil now, I better question my loyalty to him” (based on the look Winter and Harriet share) rather than any actual flaw in his plans maybe because CRBY realized that Ironwood’s plans are rational and the best one on the table right now, so they can’t use that to turn people against him. F*ck that.

Salem sends a bloodhound or whatever after Oscar, we already saw this bit in the trailers. No comment.

TLDR: Once again, RWBY sets up a lot of stuff that I find interesting and want to see more of. However, their treatment of Ironwood doesn’t make me optimistic for them to treat him right, and RWBY has a track record of setting up good concepts/plots/characters/arcs and then failing to execute them well or at all. We’ll have to see if V8 actually lives up to the promise or falls flat due to the issues that plagued V6 and V7 .

Going to make a whole new list for the OP because dear Lord, this thing is dense.

This song is definitely more in line with RWBY’s usual sound than Trust Love, and I’m all for that. The beat is a little hinky to me - it’s going to take a few re-listens to get used to it - and once again I wish the lyrics were clearer, but I know people that weren’t as happy with V7′s sound will be happy with this return to form.

Establishing shots of Mantle going to hell, nice use of red and contrast, but I wish there was a bit more use of shadow to really sell the red coming from fires and emergency lights.

Ruby standing alone, turning to find the others standing at the ready to fight, but away from her and with their backs turned. Any chance of more dissent? Will we actually get some growth from Ruby, in regards to her leadership in particular? We can only hope.

The four girls, on a blackish/blue background with floating warm lights, with images of their V1 selves in their clothes/hair/weapons. I really love the animation in the portion, the girls look so good. It also makes me wish we’d get some sort of flashback to V1-3, because I want more of their Beacon designs in the new animation style. The fact that this background/setting shows up again later in the trailer makes me wonder if it might be what the interior of the Atlas vault looks like. No basis for that, just a random thought. Couple minor nitpicks, focused on Yang. The fact that she’s the only one not in a more dynamic pose (and this is Yang of all people) seems odd, and the way her hair flows looks weird to me based on the angles and whatnot. Putting her in a different pose like a charge would fix this, letting her hair flow more naturally and giving them the space they need to to add in her past self. Otherwise, gorgeous. 

Ironwood with Atlas inside him, slowly being overtaken by the red as he looks up. No real comment other than beautiful.

Clover dropping his pin, with the AceOps and Qrow in the leaves, before transitioning to Qrow taking Robyn’s hand in prison. It looks like Harriet will be taking over as team leader. I don’t have a lot to say here - Marrow’s the only AceOp I’m interested in, and Qrow and Clover’s relationship has never been compelling for me. Robyn, similarly, is not a character I like, so a Qrow/Robyn team-up jailbreak isn’t something that I’m interested in unless Watts is involved. Already teamed up with one villain, Qrow, why stop there?

Oscar in pain holding his head, while Grimm eyes surround him and then Salem with wyvern wings comes out and looms over him preparing to grab him. I like the visual of Salem as the Wyvern at Beacon, but her face looks almost doofy in this shot. I think it’s the lack of expression mixed with the eyes. If she had a more menacing expression, I think this would work a lot better.

The falling weapons of the girls, Crescent Rose with Myrtenaster and Gambol Shroud with Ember Celica. Cue the shippers.

Jaune with his sword in front of his face, pulling it down to be at the ready, with Nora and Ren in the far background, their backs turned on each other but looking sad at their positions. I know Jaune’s thing is probably generic, but it gives me Mulan vibes, which is funny considering. Hey, hint that Martial Arcs will become canon now that Renora is on the rocks? fingers crossed More of Ren and Nora’s rough patch, and I really hope that that gets some focus. Their kiss last volume left a bad taste in my mouth with how it went down, and getting into these two as separate characters and their relationship. Ren not requiting Nora’s romantic feelings towards him would be a really interesting place to go with these characters that everyone’s pegged together since episode 4 (in no small part due to their lack of interaction with anyone else, but I’ll get to that). 

Winter and Weiss walking towards each other on the Schnee symbol, passing each other by with Winter getting her new hairstyle and a brace of some sort. She’s actually wearing this brace in the hospital, but on the other arm, while now it’s on the arm she couldn’t bend her fingers with. Interesting, and it looks all looks really good!

The Schnee snowflake falls between Whitley and Willow, before shattering onto a chessboard. YESSSS, Whitley’s in the intro again! That’s more than I could’ve hoped, and I really really hope that him looking contemplatively like that means something - that’s he’s figuring things out, coming up with a plan, something! Still no new design though T-T CRWBY, what do I have to do to get my boy some new clothes?

From the chessboard, Salem rises up, turning the other black pieces into Grimm to attack the white where Ironwood stands. His pieces turn to dust, the board blowing away entirely. Nice callback to V1. Ironwood stands alone - no allies, and no space to move forward. He’s a king with nowhere to move - check or checkmate. 

Smug Watts hacking while leaning against a mirror, rotates to show Pierto doing the same, his reflection looking over its shoulder at him, then a pan to Penny to show the same thing before the mirror breaks. I’m not sure what this might symbolize. Inability to trust yourself, maybe?

A snowflake flies through the air and lands in Ren’s palm. It turns into a flower petal, (or scraps his hand, I can’t quite tell) then Yang, Jaune, and Oscar join him, Ren smiling to Jaune. Another flower petal flies by to transition to Nora, who reaches out but can’t catch it, looking dismayed until RWBP comes in to join her. I assume the symbolism is straight-forward - the snowflake turns to a petal when caught by Ren (lotus guy), then flies to Nora who can’t catch it. Really living for the Ren focus in the op~

Pans to a shot of the whole group in the middle of everything - Atlas and Mantle overrun with Grimm on one side, Salem’s whale and Grimm army on the other, and Amity in the middle, which Penny flies up to hover below. Penny is going to be vital to launching Amity, and probably for reasons other than the terminal.

Then Ruby and Yang looking at each other with a smile and nod before the girls jump into fighting some Grimm. Interesting bit when the volume opens with the sisters starting to have disagreements.

The entire thing freezes, Cinder strolling cockily past the crew to walk in front of a bored/disgruntled Neo and Emerald who starts to wave but looks dejected when Cinder ignores her. Not much to say here - I don’t really like the freeze frame for some reason, no idea why. This also doesn’t give us any new info on the dynamics between these three characters.

Cinder grabs her Grimm arm in pain as fire flares up behind her, transitioning into Merc, Tyrian, Hazel, and Salem with the lamp in her eyes, transitioning to the lamp and staff twirling around each other, both emitting smoke like they’re being used as they come together. I wonder if this means that the last question and the Staff are going to be used, and maybe together? Once again, though - Atlas falling, people in the crater die.

Smoke clears up to reveal Ruby, looking up to Atlas first in invasion mode, then peaceful. Turn to a shot of the group standing looking to the left, Yang and Ruby looking like they’re posed but the others just kind of standing there. It’s a weird shot, and I’m not sure what to make of it, honestly.

The ice breaks beneath Ruby’s feet, sending RWBY falling into a void, their bodies trailing those lights that we saw before. Ruby opens her eyes to see the brightest light, the Staff. She reaches out to it, but Grimm paws and hands drag her down. V6 callback?

The word Happy? flashes only to be crossed out, a sketchy Grimm roaring, then the words Ever then Never as it’s crossed out, with a sketchy Penny lifting her head and her eyes then face going red, then the words After Again being crossed out. I’m not really of the words - I think it’s going for a Happily Ever After Happy? Never Again thing, but there’s no Happily that I can see, and it just kind of comes across as a bit emo to me. I like the sketches of the Grimm and Penny - I think it might be a Wyvern Grimm or something like that, and the red spreading from Penny’s eyes to her entire outline is interesting. I wonder if it’s connected to the Maiden powers and how she’ll use them.

Sketches of RWBY’s weapon fall into the snow, Crescent Rose falling with the tip stuck in the snow, then a flash and a pull out to Crescent Rose in the snow in full animation, framed by the broken moon as rose petals fly by with the “Created by Monty Oum” credit appears. I really like this as a reference to the Red trailer, and compared to the very cluttered ending shot of V7, this is a nice change of pace.

I like this OP. It’s definitely above V7′s for me, with a good song and some beautiful animation in it’s visuals. If I had to criticize it, I would say that it feels very long and cluttered. My breakdown of the opening feels as long as everything I mentioned in the actual episode. I realize one was going almost shot by shot, while the other summarized, but the point still stands that this things feels longer than it needs to be (I’d have to check time stamps to see if it is actually significantly longer).

A more promising start, all in all, than I’d hoped for. Things irritate me for sure, Ironwood’s treatment, Ruby’s plan, all that stuff, but I know I would have those bones to pick going in. The shake-up of the usual teams and the promise of inter-group conflict is enough to get me to want more, and I look forward to seeing how my favorite characters will be utilized. 

What are your thoughts on the episode? Reblog and comment down below, and we’ll start a convo.

Until next time~

[izaswritings]

Fic prompt: Jnr homeschooling Oscar (p.s: He’s bad at math)

AO3 Link is Here!

The sun is low in the sky beyond the Atlas horizon, burning the icy tundra a bright and burning gold. Beyond their dorm window, the wind howls and rattles at the glass, like a long and mournful scream as it snakes its way through Atlas Academy’s towers. Inside, however, is warm and cozy; they’ve piled all the blankets on the floor, made something of a fort to sit comfortably. Oscar wraps one duvet around his shoulders and leans back against the wall, watching bemusedly as Nora darts back and forth around their small room, throwing books and pillows at Jaune and Ren intermittently.

He has no idea what’s going on, but Oscar is sure he’ll find out eventually. He’d come back from today’s training to find all their blankets already on the floor, and Nora creating a whirlwind of pillows, and at this point he’s just content to watch the chaos. On the bright side, Jane and Ren look just as confused as he is, so at least they can all be baffled together.

At last, the blanket amalgamation is complete: Nora takes one last book off the shelf and slams down cross-legged on her pile of blankets, grinning wide. She spreads out her arms. “Ta-da!”

Oscar claps politely. Jaune tugs a blanket off his head and says, “Nora. Please. Please tell me what this is.”

“Blanket fort school session!” Nora lifts a finger. “Because I refuse to do this the boring way.”

“Do what?”

Oscar blinks at her. Understanding clicks. “Is this about the tutoring thing?” he asks, suspicious. Ironwood had mentioned something like this a few days back, after one particular conversation about Oscar’s farm education—and he’d asked team JNR to do it. Oscar has been trying his best not to be annoyed about it ever since. As far as he’s concerned, his schooling is fine, and he’s not sure how he feels about the General’s dismissal of his Aunt’s teachings.

“Nooooooooooooo,” says Nora, utterly unconvincing.

“It’s about the tutoring thing,” Ren admits at the same time. Jaune, beside him, shrugs.

“Blanket fort was all Nora’s idea, though,” Jaune mutters, and gives Nora an exasperated look. “I mean. Really?”

“If we must do school, I refuse to let it be boring!”

“I mean, I guess that makes sense…?”

Oscar shakes his head, biting back a sigh. “Look, um, I appreciate this, but…” He winces, pulling a face, and shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t need tutoring. I mean, maybe I had a few years left in homeschool, but my aunt’s already taught me everything I really need to know.” They’re staring at him. Oscar rubs at the back of his neck, embarrassed. “So… um.”

Nora is immediately aghast. She gestures again to the blanket fort, almost pleading, and when Oscar shakes his head, she slumps. “What! Really?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Jaune almost seems disappointed. “So no calculus?” He sighs. “But I actually like calculus! It was the one subject I was really good at…”

Nora's eyes snap to him and narrow in challenge. “Political science is way better,” she says, sagely.

“Hm. I’ve always preferred Home Economics, myself.”

“You can’t take classes in Home Ec anymore, Ren—”

Oscar blanks, mind still stuck on a few moments ago. His hand slowly falls from his hair. “Uh… calculus?”

The others cut off mid-discussion, looking back. “You know, like fn equals x equals…” Nora trails off at the look on his face. Her hands fall. “Waitaminute. You said you were done with schooling!”

Oscar thinks about this. He holds a hand. “Lemme see.”

All three of them lean in as Oscar cracks open the calculus book, looking down at glossy pages full of equations and numbers and rules. Oscar looks at the book. Team JNR looks at him. Oscar leans down closer to the book, frowning deeply. Team JNR is now leaning so far forward to stare that they’re half an inch away from all unbalancing and falling forward into an accidental dog pile.

Oscar looks up. “Oh,” he says. “This isn’t math.”

Nora falls right back on the ground. Jaune leans back the normal, non-dramatic way, and scratches at his head. “No,” he says. “This is, uh… pretty sure calculus is also math.”

Oscar frowns down at it. “But there are words in the equation…”

“Yeah, those are the… no, seriously, have you never seen calculus?”

“But I know my Aunt said—” Oscar tilts his head. “Hm. Hey, what do you use calculus for, anyway?”

“Lots of things,” Ren says, looking a bit bemused by the conversation. “Chemistry, science, equations…”

“Oh,” Oscar says. He’s quiet again, thoughtful. In the back of his mind, echoes of memories that aren’t quite his own whisper and resonate—  images of a silver cane, clockwork and gears and oil, pencil dust staining their fingertips gray, circles and equations scrawled in neat hands across the paper. Oscar takes them in—  and then firmly shakes the echoes away. “What about probabilities?”

“No, that’s statistics.”

“Oh, I know that one then. Good for crop estimations.” Oscar reaches out—and slowly, carefully, closes the textbook. “I… don’t need calculus.”

“I,” says Jaune.

“Um,” says Ren.

“Hell yeah, stick it to the man!” says Nora, and she takes the textbook and throws it at the bookshelf with a grin that takes up half her face.

Oscar shrugs at the looks Jaune and Ren are giving him. “What? I don’t plan on doing chemistry or lab work anytime soon, and if I only need stats for the farm, then…”

“You can’t just ignore a whole discipline of math!” Jaune argues, looking offended.

Ren, on the other hand, seems almost thoughtful. “What were those farm terms you mentioned before… Oscar. What’s a bushel of wheat?”

“What? You mean, in weight? About 60 pounds per bushel.”

“Barley?”

“Um… maybe 48 pounds per bushel?”

“And when you sell them…”

“Well, um, no, it’s not that simple, you need a—” Oscar pauses, brow furrowing, unsure how to explain it. “Like, for durum! It has to have a certain grade to be sold for a certain thing, right? And for durum, the grade is figured using HVK—”

“What,” says Jaune, blankly.

“—hard vitreous kernels, it’s like— a percent measure of hardness, I guess? So we gotta figure out the grade through that, if it’s 80% HVK, or 40% HVK, and that determines its grade, and what we sell it for and for how much, you know.”

Nora and Jaune look stunned.

“Okay.” Ren nods, though he seems a bit dizzy himself. “What’s sin and cos?”

Oscar looks at him. “...What?”

“Sin and cos. Or, uh, ln?”

There’s a pause. “Bless you,” Oscar says, finally, feeling a bit helpless. He’s pretty sure those aren’t words. Those aren’t words, are they? He’s a bit afraid to ask, now.

Ren turns back to a grinning Nora and a bewildered-looking Jaune with a shrug. “I think he’s fine.”

“What!”

“I mean, I don’t remember the difference between sin and cos either.”

Jaune looks betrayed; Nora laughs. “Ren blanks through anything that isn’t Home Ec,” she explains, looking amused at Jaune’s disappointment, and her grin widens. “Don’t need calculus to cook, so…”

Ren looks somewhat sheepish.

Jaune heaves a sigh. “I mean, fair…? But aw, man, calculus is the only subject I’m really good at! I was kind of looking forward to teaching it...”

Ren shakes his head, but he’s smiling. To Oscar, he says, “I don’t disagree with you, but the General did ask us to tutor you, and I’m not sure if he’ll see it the same way…”

“We don’t have to tell him anything,” Nora says, firmly.

“Nora,” Ren sighs.

Oscar hums, cutting through the argument before it can start. The memories are rising again, insistent—  some past lives must have really liked math, wow—  but Oscar breathes in deep and remembers instead the warm tenor of his aunt’s voice, the rough feel of grain in his hand, the careful count. Oscar may be the next Oz, as people like to say, but he was always Oscar first. He was a farmhand first, before all this came into his life. And… he doesn’t want to lose that. Not yet, at least. Not ever.

His aunt has taught him everything he needs to know, and for now Oscar would like to keep it that way.

So he pulls his shoulders straight and pulls himself up too, certain and sure and sticking with it. “If General Ironwood really wants me to learn calculus…” Which, yech, he hopes not, that was illegible, who would do that to perfectly good numbers?— “Then I’ll learn. But, um… if not… then I’d rather not.” He gives Jaune an apologetic smile. “Sorry?”

“No, no, it’s fine, just bash my favorite subject, it’s fine, it’s cool, I’m cool.”

Nora cackles at him. Jaune puts his head in his hands.

“Well, if not math…” Ren hunts around the pile of textbooks scattered amongst the blankets, and picks out one with a glossy cover. “Perhaps science?” He smiles over at Nora. “We don’t want the study blanket fort to go to waste, after all.”

Nora brightens. Oscar smiles, and draws his legs closer in a crisscross, resting his hands on his ankles. “I can do science,” he agrees. “Can we start with geology?”

“Yes!” Nora throws up her hands. “I’ll get the hot cider! And snacks! And then we can study!” She makes two fists and punches up like she’s trying to break the ceiling. “BONZAI!”

Jaune mimics her with enthusiasm; Ren with a quiet voice and a smaller smile. Oscar echoes their shout a second off-rhythm, and hesitantly bumps the fist Nora holds out his way. He has no idea why they’re so pumped about the studying thing, but it’s fine. They’re happy, they’re having fun—  and at least the blanket fort is warm.

“To the books!”

“To the books,” Oscar agrees, and when he cracks open the textbook he is smiling.

[littlemisssquiggles]

Whit-ty Headcanons: Whitley Is Punished by Tyrian Callows?

In light of the upcoming Schnee Dinner episode, I find myself concocting more and more headcanons of how things could play out for this event. Particularly when it comes to Jacques and Whitley. It truly makes me wonder just how far Jacques is willing to go just to get his own way. 

Not to mention how much it will take for Whitley remove the blindfold from his eyes and realize that his father isn’t the man he pegs him to be. With this thought in mind, I’ve been pondering ways in which the episode might play out for these two men in particular and then a very chilling thought came to mind.

What if…Whitley is caught snooping around Jacques’ office by Tyrian Callows when he’s having another meeting with Watts and as punishment for disobeying him, Jacques just lets Tyrian beat up Whitley as a means of teaching him a firm lesson in discipline?

Before my fellow Whits come at me with pitchforks for having the chaps to even suggest such a heinous thing to happen to our boy, as always, hear this squiggly Whit out. I know the notion of Jacques having Tyrian---a homicidal mass murder from Anima with sadistic tendencies--- punish Whitley---a more or less innocent child; Jacques’ child and current heir--- just for snooping around will be an all-time low even for the likes of Jacques Schnee. But y’know what? Weirdly enough, I can actually see this being a possibility given the kind of malicious man Jacques is shaping up to be.

As RWBY has highlighted many times, Jacques cares very little for anyone but himself and would more than willingly sacrifice his entire family’s happiness if it brought him a crumb of financial fortune. Not to mention that I think Whitley’s super sleuth luck has to run out at some point. Presumably sooner than I think.

We’ve seen Whitley successfully snoop on his father in the past as evidenced by his first appearance back in V4. But as mentioned, that luck will run out. I have a feeling that CH8 could potentially begin with Jacques having another meeting in person with Watts at Schnee Manor; only this time Tyrian joins him. Since the Military are still keeping Tyrian’s identity under wraps from the general public, Tyrian is free to walk into Schnee Manor and not stir any suspicions at all with the staff; particularly the ones incredibly loyal to Jacques.

I’m picturing Tyrian just standing menacingly in the background; waiting patiently for Watts to finish going over the next stage of their plan with Jacques. It is Tyrian who ends up outing Whitley after finding him…I dunno listening in from a hidden space in Jacques office or…listening in at the door when he’s not supposed to be near it?

To Whitley’s horror, Tyrian drags him into the office and kind of stands over Whitley in a sort of preying position. Terrified, Whitley looks to his father to help him. However, instead of telling Watts off or advising him to call off Tyrian from harming his son, Jacques does the unthinkable. 

All the Schnee Man says is “Don’t hurt him too much and keep away from his face. I need him to look his best for the dinner tonight.”

So basically, Jacques allows Tyrian to hurt Whitley as a form of punishment. So Whitley ends up being forced to attend the Schnee Dinner anyways in spite of nursing some pretty bad injuries from his encounter with Tyrian inclusive of a few broken bones.

Remember my theory from yesterday about Whit knowing the truth about his father’s plans for Ironwood and his sisters with him behaving funny all night?

Well here’s an alternative version of that concept. Let’s say…Whitley reunites with his sisters for the first time at their father’s celebratory dinner. However Weiss is the one to notice something rather off about her brother’s behaviour. According to Weiss, Whitley was quieter than usual and seemed rather unwell at the party and she even makes a comment to Whit about his rather sickly demeanour to which he denies.

Let’s say…it’s the first time Weiss has ever seen her brother behave so strangely---at least since their time together back in V4 and even then he didn’t act this oddly reserved.

Let’s say…because Whitley was in so much pain from his “earlier punishment”, he even refused to eat anything at the party---not even to enjoy a plate of his favourite crepes dessert. This action especially throws Weiss off as she’d been low-key observing Whit since she and the others got to the party.

Long story short, Weiss ends up pulling Whitley aside so the two siblings could “catch up”. During this time, Weiss grills Whitley for information on their father---asking if he knew anything. Of course, Whitley tries to act all aloof as he did back in V4 but his bravado fails as he kept suspiciously hugging his chest.

Noticing this, Weiss turns her interrogation on questioning Whitley about himself---how he’s been doing since he’s all alone with Jacques.

This question seems to somewhat trigger Whitley as he responds in anger; lambasting Weiss for daring to ask him such a thing since, from Whitley’s perspective, she’s never once cared about him in the sixteen years he’s been alive (I’d like to think that Whit is closer to Ruby’s age than Oscar’s).

Weiss flinches at this accusation. She then switches to a more sympathetic tone of voice. Whitley goes to storm off but Weiss immediately reaches out and grabs his arm, stopping him. Gently, Weiss reveals her suspicions to Whitley about her father being up to something that could result in no-good for everyone; especially Mama Schnee and even Whit who were still with Jacques.

In the end, Weiss expresses her worry for the fate of their family. Her worry for their mother. Her worry for Whitley. Basically it ends in Weiss practically begging Whitley for his help. She knows she hasn’t always been the ‘best big sister’ to him or even the warmest person in general. However Weiss has changed a lot since Whitley last saw her; growing even more into a kind-hearted person.

As I said, in this version of my headcanon, just as how Snow White begged the Huntsmen sent to kill her by the Wicked Queen to spare her life---Weiss asks Whitley to help her with unveiling whatever wicked scheme she feared their father was planning. And just like the Huntsman from the fairy-tale, Whitley does help Weiss. But not before collapsing before her, finally succumbing to her injuries.

Previously, I’ve heard one or two RWBY theorists---inclusive of RWBY Youtuber: EruptionFang theorize that Whitley has secretly been abused by Jacques for years without his sisters’ knowledge. An intriguing theory and while I’m unsure if we’ll see it rationalized into the canon, I’m going to add my own spin on that longstanding Whit theory.

Basically Whitley collapses before Weiss complaining of pain in his chest. Immediately…Weiss reacts to help her brother but as Weiss inspects Whitley, to her dismay, she is stunned to discover several bruises across his chest and abdomen including an open slash across his stomach that was being held together by several sloppily tied bandages which were now soaked in a bit of blood.

Let’s say…Weiss asks Klein to bring Jaune but advises him to be discreet as a means of not attracting the attention of their father. So Klein brings Jaune to Weiss and with her permission, Jaune uses his semblance to heal Whitley.

All the while, Weiss stayed by Whitley’s side, cradling his unconscious body. Even Klein is horrified to see the state of the “young master”. Weiss then questioned Klein if he knew about what happened to Whitley only for Klein to sadly inform Weiss that since her departure, Jacques hasn’t allowed him to set foot near Whitley; designating him to other duties while Jacques himself saw to Whit’s development.

Let’s say…while healing Whitley, Jaune discovers other injuries on his body---ones that weren’t recent and seemed to have been healing for months. Thus indicating to Weiss the truth of what he brother had been going through since she left.

Eventually in a nutshell, Whitley regains consciousness and from here, he proceeds to help Weiss by firstly warning her of what Jacques was truly up to. But…not before one small exchange of dialogue.

Whitley: What… happened to me?

Weiss: You passed out but don’t worry; Jaune is going to take good care of you.

Whitley: …Who…is Jaune?

Weiss: He’s a friend of mine so you’re in great hands.

Whitley: Another…huntsman? A huntsman saved my life? Well…that’s annoying!

Jaune: Wow. He really is your brother.

 This doesn’t have to happen but…I think this could’ve been a cute way to show that Whit is more like his sister than she realized. Not to mention, it’s a cheeky call back to both V4 and V5. The irony of Whitley saying huntsmen were “barbaric” and “beneath people like him and his father”; only for his snooty ass to be saved by one. Such poetic satire.

Anyways, if something like this were to somehow happen in the canon for the new episode, I want a few things to come out of it:

Similar to how Weiss finally addressed her team as her family in front of her father, I think it’d be pretty sweet for Weiss to acknowledge Jaune as her friend in front of another family member of hers like Whitley.

As much as I like White Knight as a ship, I don’t necessarily need them to end up together romantically. For now, this squiggle meister is more interested in Weiss and Jaune have a solid friendship built on mutual trust and knowing each other better than they ever did in the past.

After all, we all know how big of a rocky start these two had in the beginning. This is why I’m excited for the Dinner Party setting. To me, RWBY V7CH8 is a chance for the CRWBY to make a parallel to RWBY V2CH7: Dance, Dance Infiltration.

If I recall correctly, Jaune never got the opportunity to tell Weiss what he truly thought about her. Personally I’d like for this small plot point to be revisited. As a matter of fact, since we got May Marigold, I’m kind of banking on Henry Marigold making a comeback too. I know some folks think that May might be a sex-changed Henry and while I myself did ponder that a bit too, I’m more leaning towards the more simpler idea that Henry and May are just related. Probably siblings or cousins.

Speaking of, I have a feeling like CH8 will also harken back to the V4 episode where Henry made his debut. My hunch is that Henry and his family will also be invited to Jacques’ Dinner again. Perhaps the Marigolds are a Council Family with one of Henry and May’s close relatives holding a seat on the Atlesian Council. I like the idea of May coming from a family who help govern the Kingdom of Atlas yet she instead chooses to use her influence to work with the representative of Mantle for the betterment of Mantle. Now that could be a cool detail for May.

Anyways, as I was saying, Henry returns in CH8 and he and Weiss meet again for the first time since V4. However, unlike like last time, Henry isn’t as gentlemanly with Weiss. As a matter of fact, he’s a complete asshat to her.

Let’s say, Henry harasses Weiss at the dinner which then leads into two things: 

Firstly, Jaune, to Weiss’ surprise, coming to her defence against Henry and secondly, May showing up to put a lid on her baby brother.

May then makes Henry apologize to Weiss before dragging him off by the ear back to their family table for daring to disrespect a woman (especially when his sister was nearby). Currently there’s a wee bit of tension between our heroes and the Happy Huntresses given how things went down at Robyn’s Watch Party. Not to mention that of all the Huntresses, May has somewhat been the most seemingly aggressive one.

So it’d be kind of sweet if we got a scene where has a gentler side; more understanding side to her that isn’t as hardened. Who knows? Perhaps that’s why she became a huntress in the first place and joined up with Robyn? Maybe May comes from a family where as a woman, she felt disrespected because she often treated as if she wasn’t tough enough to go toe-to-toe with the men of her family. That was part of her motive for becaming a huntress---to prove to all who doubted her strength that they clearly misjudged her…or something like that. Mostly speculating here.

Anyways, after a scene like this, Jaune stays in Weiss’ company and the two actually have a pretty decent chat in which Jaune confesses how he really thinks of Weiss. It’s not meant to be interpreted as romantic but more as a step in the right direction of Jaune and Weiss becoming legit good friends.

Who knows? Maybe we might even get a little nod back to their untold movie lime with Oscar with the two sharing a laugh over that night’s crazy shenanigans with a possible promise to do it again; even if it’s just the two of them this time. As friends, of course.

I dunno. I just really, really would like to see Jaune and Weiss alone together, talking as friends since we’ve honestly never gotten that with the two of them. It could be a wholesome thing but this is just my opinion.

A theory like this can also show Weiss showing concern for Whitley. In the past, the impression I got from Weiss’ interactions with her brother was that Whit seemed more like an annoyance to Weiss…or rather he was someone she clearly didn’t trust most likely due to his similarities to their father in terms of appearance. So basically Weiss believed that Whitley was going to turn out more like Jacques. It wouldn’t surprise me if Weiss and Whit used to be close when they were toddlers until Jacques started grooming Whit to be more like him.

I think CH8 could be a good chance to touch a bit more on Weiss’ relationship with her brother, as well as Mama Schnee.

Again, as much as I like the Schnee-sisters’ dynamic---I’ve frankly seen enough of their interactions to gage their bond. Basically, I get it. Weiss and Winter are close.

The same can be said for Weiss and Jacques. Yes, I get that too! Weiss suffered a very overwrought relationship with her father due to his ways for most of her life.

This has been Weiss’ song and dance since her first character trailer. Basically what I’m trying to say here is that I hope that CH8 highlights Weiss focusing not on her sister and father but on her relationship with her mother and brother for a nice change. Even more interesting if all of that is tied in with the narrative of the episode fleshing out her budding friendship with Jaune. Maybe?

I understand some folks are probably banking on this dinner being all about our young heroes being little fishes out of water attending their first cordial party at Schnee Manor. However for this squiggle meister, I’m more looking forward to the conversations, man. 

I think this season has been building up to a few much needed chats between certain characters or certain groups of characters and I’d like to think that a more seemingly “relaxed” atmosphere could be provide the perfect setting to jumpstart some of those longstanding conversations. For CH8, I’m expecting the following interactions to be focal point of the episode:

Ironwood talking to Jacques Weiss talking to Willow (Mama Schnee) Weiss talking to Whitley Weiss talking to Jaune  (possibly) 

Blake and Yang talking to Robyn (I have a feeling she’s going to be at the dinner too so there’s that follow up from CH7) Ren talking to Nora (because for Pete’s sake,  that NEEDS to happen at this point, for REAL)

And last but certainly not least, Oscar talking to Ruby (because that also needs to happen at this point too. I haven’t forgotten V7CH3).

I know that CH8 is only 15:37 mins long. Nevertheless, V2CH7 (the OG dance party episode) was 15:05 mins long and that episode managed to pull off a lot in a surprisingly short space of time. 

So you could say I have full faith that we can get a lot of really great character interactions for this upcoming new episode.

But y’know this is only me. Hears to hopefully getting my wish with that. At least for the Weiss and Whitley part of it. 

~LittleMissSquiggles (2019)

[wcmi-22]

Lovely day for a picnic with a Mad man!

It was a lovely spring day in Wonderland. All the birds were singing with glee, all the children were playing in the park and may people were out and about enjoying the beautiful weather. This gave one petite blonde named Alice Liddell an idea for what she wanted to do on her day off. So the little blonde dressed in a lovely long white collared shirt with an even lovelier sky blue shirt and holding it together was stylish black lace and brown belt. She even decided to try that hairstyle Ariel had suggested to her as well.

(Sorry the second picture looks so rough!!!! But you guys get it Alice looks adorable)

She then gather her picnic basket along with the yummy cucumber sandwiches, tea, crumpets, for the basket,her red and white checkered blanket and best of all her book of poems that she simply could not put down.

Once she has all her stuff together, she finally shuts her front door and walks toward the park. Once she arrives, she notices both the beauty and the various people all gathered around the area. Some were flying kites while others fed the ducks, walk their dogs or even watched their children play on the play ground. Some of them even decided to picnic just like Alice. Which lead to a great dilemma, finding a spot.

Though Alice had been to many a year party and social affairs before in London but, when it came down to it, she was not a very social person. In fact every time she tried to be, she acted shy and quiet to the point no one could hear her. Still she was determined to do better and she was determined to get a spot!

As she looked around for a nice spot, suddenly she saw once again the bimbettes staring at her and talking about her as she went by.

“Is that the Hatter’s girlfriend?” One of them in a red dress asked.

“I believe so, can you believe her?” Said another one in the green dress.

“I know! What kind of woman hangs out with such a freak like him?” Said the one in the yellow dress.

“Another freak obviously!”

Though they thought Alice could not hear them, however, they were sorely mistaken. Because once Alice turned around, she gave them a stern hard glare at them. In response they all turned their heads simultaneously to the opposite of Alice who kept on walking away until finally she found a lovely little spot under a large oak tree with a perfect view of the lake.

There she set up her picnic and placed her food on a plate in front of her along with some tea then got out her book and started to read as she ate.

“Humph those bimbettes!” She started to think to herself. “Who do they have think they are? Having the right to judge people and their lives!? At least Reginald pays attention to me even though I don’t want him to but they can’t even get Gaston to notice them! And besides Reginald isn’t that bad!”

Suddenly, she realized what she had thought and shook her head to help her go back to her senses.

She soon forgot about the bimbettes and kept reading as she enjoyed her cucumber sandwiches that is until a oh so familiar voice called to her.

“Oh Cricket!” it shouted. Low and behold right down the hill was none other than the mad man himself, Reginald Leopold Theophilus the Third.He wore his signature green hat along with his orange overcoat, blue vest over his white collared shirt, long green pants with matching abnormally large shoes. He had in his hand a rather unusual picnic basket to say the least. In fact it wasn’t even brown like normal baskets were, it was teal with strange green and pink swirls all over it with a plum purple blanket in the inside of it appearing out of it as well.

“Oh no!” Alice thought to herself “Not him! Not today, Lord!”

Though Alice wanted to run away but sadly, it was too late because he had already managed to gallup up the hill and to her area.

“Lovely day isn’t it, cricket?” He says as he sets up his area right next to hers.

“Reginald!” Alice said sternly.

“Yes, dear cricket?” He says.

“Your being awfully rude you know!”

“Really?” Reginald questioned “How so?”

“I did not give you permission to place your blanket next to mine nor in my area!” She explained indignantly.

“It’s a free park!” Reginald explains “All the areas here are free for everyone,cricket!”

Alice only rolled her eyes at his explanation.

“But I suppose if it will make you feel better,” he says and clears his throat. “Pardon me, Miss Liddell,” he starts to ask in his most dignified voice “but may I please have the honor of sitting near your presence for the time being?”

This made Alice both shocked about how he called her Miss Liddell and a little bit annoyed about how he made fun of it.

“Or shall I be banished from this country all together?” He asks giving her a puppy dog pout.

All Alice could do was sigh, roll her eyes and say “oh alright!” Followed by a “you may stay!”

The Mad Hatter quickly day on his blanket and got out his food which surprisingly, looked quite delicious considering how mad he was about combining food. Alice even saw him one time put ketchup on his Macaroni and cheese at one of Ear’s tea parties. The thought of that memory disgusted her beyond measure.

As she gazed at his food, she noticed something rather odd! Not only did he have crumpets, earl grey tea, honey and scones, but he also had a plate of celery, peanut butter and three boxes of raisins.

She then watches as Reginald gets out a butter knife, digs into the peanut butter and places said peanut butter on each celery stick.

If that weren’t bad enough, he opens a box of raisins and sprinkles them on top of the peanut butter covered celery sticks.

Then he proceeded to take one from his plate and munch on it with all his might.

This made Alice almost sick to her stomach just to watch him eat this weird concoction he made up.

Son Reginald notices Alice watching him and swallows his snack before lifting his plate of raisin and peanut butter covered celery sticks to her.

“Want one, Cricket?” He asks smiling his toothy smile.

Alice simply humphed and said “no thank you Mr. Theophilus!”

“The Third!” He interjected before putting down his plate.

“Besides how can you eat such a odd meal such as that?!” Alice states in disgust.

“What this?”Reginald says pointing to his plate. “Why it’s only ants on a log!”

“Ants on a what now?”

“Ants on a log, my grandmother used to make me these as an after school snack when I was a boy,” he explained “they are both delicious and nutritious!”

Reginald soon picks up another one of the celery stick and crunches into it, making Alice shutter in disgust.

“Besides they have to be better than those plain cucumber sandwiches your eating there, love!” He states pointing to her plate of small sandwiches.

“They certainly are not!” Alice interjected. “I had these all the time at tea parties when I was a girl and they were delicious and best of all less messy than your silly little snack!”

“Well,” he says finishing his stick “ how do you know if you don’t like them if you don’t try them, Cricket?!” He mocks.

“Well,” she says flustered “how do you know if you don’t like my sandwiches if you don’t try them too!” Alice mocks back.

Soon, Reginald taps his mouth with a napkin, lifts his plate and serves it to Alice.

“Care to put your money where your mouth is then, my little tea cake?!” He smirks with a Cheshire grin.

“What?!” She questions.

“How about this, dear Alice! If you try my celery sticks and I have one of your sandwiches, we will both see who is right and who is chicken!” He states. “Whoever can eat the others snack without hesitation wins!”

“And wins what exactly?” Alice asks.

Reginald then thought for a moment until finally, a brilliant idea came on in his brain.

“If I win, you have to let me combine my picnic with your picnic and spend the rest of the time here with me!” He states.

“And if you lose?” Alice asks with her arms folded across her chest.

“I’ll leave you alone for the rest of the week!” He says.

Of course, Alice isn’t one to gamble but not having Reginald bother her for a week was just too good to pass on.

“You got yourself a deal!” She says and shakes Reginald’s hand.

Both soon got a piece of each other’s snack and looked at each other.

“Ok,” Reginald says “ladies first!”

Alice gulps then lifts the peanut butter And raisin covered celery up to her mouth. Her hand is shaking, she looks to Reginald who smirks his devilish smirk as he watches her.

“Ugh I can’t do it!” She yells and puts it down.

Soon Reginald takes the sandwich in his hands and before Alice knew it, eats it whole with no hesitation what so ever.

He victoriously pats his mouth with a napkin and gives another smirk to Alice.

“I guess this means I win, Cricket!” He states mockingly.

Alice was shocked at how easily he ate it “But..but ....but how? You said...”

“I said they were plain to me,” he states fixing up his picnic to mix with hers “ I never said I never had one!”

“YOU....YOU CHEATED!YOU REPTILE,YOU YOU UNHOLY NEANDERTHAL!!!!”Alice exclaims in anger.

“No I didn’t, Cricket!” Reginald states “All I said was if you try my celery sticks and I have one of your sandwiches, we will both see who is right and who is chicken!”

“I...I..” Alice started to say until she realized there was nothing to be done. After all, her father had always said to never back out of a promise that you make to someone. Although in this case, she wished she could.

Through out the picnic, though at first it was a little awkward, eventually it became quite pleasant when Reginald and Alice talked about her poetry book.

“Well personally, my favorite author would be Oscar Wilde because of my heritage.” Reginald said lying on the blanket next to her with his hat over his face and his arms behind his head.

“Wait your Irish?!”Alice said surprised.

“Yes,”Reginald says “and Scottish so by the time I get to heaven I’ll probably see my ancestors in the middle of a fight between clans.”

Alice laughed at the though of both his family’s battling it out on those fluffy clouds with their brogue accents.

“So, can you speak Celtic and Gaelic then?” Alice asked.

“Eh a little here and there depending on which one I do!” He says.

“Which one do you speak better in?”

“Well,” he says sitting up from his former position. “ I do remember a few words in Scottish Gaelic .”

“Could you speak some!” Alice said excitedly until she gains her composure “um please.” She responds dignified once more.

“Well,” the Hatter says blushing at her excitement “Alright!”

Reginald then thinks for a moment then finds the right words to say, clears his throat and says “tha gaol agam air mo nighean blonde.”

“What does that mean?” Alice said confused.

“It means I love my blonde lass, my dear cricket!” He says smiling with his goofy smile at Alice who is blushing. They gaze at each other as they sat there in silence that is until

Alice sees the sun is setting and quickly gets up.

“OHDEARLOOKATTHETIMEIBESTBEGOING!” She says in a panic as she picks up all her things “ WELL LOVELY PICNIC MR.THEOPHILUS!”

“The third!” Reginald interjects.

They soon shake hands and Alice leaves Reginald on the hill at his own private picnic and as she walked away she hears in the distance “I had a good time mo nighean blonde!” Still she does not look back but merely walks away.

Back at her estate, she tries ever so hard to gain her composure of the events that occurred.

“We have discussed this Alice!” She scolded herself. “He is not right for you! He’s silly and delusional and and and...” suddenly those words he said in the robust Scottish brogue filled her head again.

“Oh curse that Scottish accent!” She says to herself and goes into the kitchen and washes the dishes, along with her sense,for the rest of the evening.

The End

[tonotbelionized]

Volume 7, Episode 3: Ace Operatives

I’ve now resigned to my fate of pushing out reviews a week after the actual episode came out. Still, at least other fans will have watched it before reading, so let’s just jump right in!

It seems that the episodes are gradually declining for me this volume. I didn’t expect the third episode to be as good as the third episode of Volume 6, as that was my favourite out of the entire series. The bar was too high, so I didn’t hold out too much hope to avoid being disappointed, and it seems that I made the right choice.

Onto the positives first, the biggest thing that I liked in this episode was the whole arc surrounding Ozpin and Ruby lying to Ironwood. The girls are moving away from the hive mind they all had in the previous volume, with different sides and views being taken. Yang and Oscar are not all that happy with Ruby lying, while Weiss and Blake acknowledge that they couldn’t trust Ironwood with how far mentally he’s fallen.

Like I said in my previous review, Ruby isn’t really in the right or the wrong for this. It’s certainly hypocritical given that they were quick to demonize Ozpin for lying yet deciding that lying and withholding information is actually a good choice to make, but you can understand why she thought she had to do it. 

Yang is really interesting in this scene. I’m not angry with her, she’s my favourite character, so I’m more intrigued why she was the one to pipe up about Ruby lying. Yang is one who has a secret too, Raven being the Spring Maiden. It’s a serious secret to keep given that Raven is essential to Salem’s plan, and with Cinder still kicking around and knowing Raven’s secret, I’m sure it’ll come up eventually.

Even if the information can’t be used right then and there, it’s not really Yang’s secret to keep, and she can’t get angry at others for lying when she’s lying by omission. Eventually, the group will have to learn that Raven’s the Spring Maiden and that Yang knew, but I’m not mad because this is an interesting flaw for Yang to have.

And Oscar’s question was amazing. Isn’t that exactly what Ozpin did to us?

By Ruby’s reaction, she seems to know that she’s doing what Ozpin did, what the group shouted and derided him for, and this is the perfect thing for Ruby to grow. She can’t be naive anymore, she has to realise that being the leader means that she will have to make choices that aren’t always what’s right, and that she will make mistakes. 

Moving on from that, I can safely say that CRWBY has bumped the Ace Ops in my list of favourite characters. I especially love Marrow, he reminds me more of Louis from The Walking Dead Game, and his and Harriet’s relationship is funny and cute. The fact that the Ace Ops clearly outrank the protagonists very much drives home that, no matter what they did to get there, they still have a long way to go before they can match the older Huntsmen, and Salem’s group. 

A bit of world building in this episode is nice. The implied connection between the mine explosion and the explosion that killed Ilia’s parents make it feel connected, and that Ilia isn’t just thrown into the void now that she’s no longer useful. 

Also, I will admit that some of the outfits don’t look so bad in motion, compared to still images. The first one would be Jaune’s hair. I don’t know what happened, but the person responsible picked the most unflattering angle for him when they first showed the models, but now that he’s moving around and showing it in different angles.

The same could be said for Weiss’ braid. In some angles, it looks fine, but then when you see it when she’s looking straight ahead or showing more of the right side of her face, you can see just how awkward and clumsy it looks. It’s too far from her head, it’s rendered poorly, and I still don’t like it. Overall, they are still my least favourite outfits in the series and CRWBY really dropped the ball on them. 

The final positive I can say is that Tyrian continues to be my favourite villain in the volume. I missed him and was happy when he was in Volume 6, so now that he’s given more screen time and room to move without the surplus of villains bogging the pacing down, he continues to be up there in character and writing.

Onto the negatives, and there were plenty that lowered the overall quality of the episode for me.

On top of her design being my least favourite of the group, Blake’s change being the only one to be acknowledges is... ugh. I actually think that Yang’s flustered attempts to compliment her was cute, but I don’t like that Blake’s change was the only one to be acknowledged, and that Yang was the only one who noticed. Weiss and Ruby changed their hair too, they’ve all changed their looks, it’s stilted and awkwardly done when it could’ve been a nice scene between the girls.

While I enjoyed the dust mine exposition, there were a few things that annoyed me.

Firstly was Weiss blaming herself for what the Schnee Dust Company, and therefore her father, did. This becomes a problem when we’ve had a whole song and dance in Volume 4 about how Weiss isn’t responsible for her father’s crimes, that she isn’t a bad person just because she was born a Schnee, but now she feels complacent in the company’s subjugation of the Faunus when she was just an abused child with no real power?

And Blake just doesn’t say anything. She puts her hand on Weiss’ shoulder and comforts her, but she doesn’t actually say that Weiss isn’t responsible for what the SDC is doing. 

On top of that, the two Faunus that were actively affected by the discrimination and the SDC in Atlas are not there. 

Ilia lost her parents in that dust mine explosion, becoming an orphan, and had to hide who she was in a deeply racist society, even more so than Beacon. Her friends weren’t like Blake’s friends, they actively badmouthed the Faunus, calling them racist slurs that Ilia had to join in on or risk being outed. This is her home, her experience, and she’s not there. She’s instead shoved out of the show because there was no room for her, even when CRWBY continued to add one off characters that ultimately take up space.

Adam was branded. He was enslaved by the SDC from when he was a child, likely has no parents of his own, and it ultimately cost him his sanity. This Volume could've had a villain who was personally connected to the SDC and the Faunus racism, but instead he was killed off just after showing that he was horribly subjugated, and now we’re floating around with no real villain to tie this all together.

All we have is Blake. A Faunus who isn’t from Atlas, who lived on an island surrounded by her own kind, in a mansion, has two loving parents, and has never come into contact with the SDC until she fought them in the White Fang, meaning that she never met them when she was in a position of vulnerability. Her abuse at Adam’s hands had nothing to do with her Faunus heritage, her friends are all understanding, even after Weiss’ racist gremlin tendencies in Volume 1 which she grew out of, and now she’s the only Faunus that’s in Atlas and connected to this arc.

CRWBY really wrote themselves into a corner with this, and it’s telling that Miles and Kerry wrote this one given this wildly out of character moment.

Moving on, the scene with Qrow and Clover was alright. Up until the talk about his Semblance. 

It’s so awkwardly worded and clunky, and it’s strange that Qrow would tell Clover straight away when it took him seventeen years to tell Ruby and Yang. People try to say that it’s because he was on a mission and Clover needed to know, but that’s still wierd given that it paints Qrow as someone who would rather keep his Semblance a secret from his niece, who’s put herself on this dangerous mission because he told her that Cinder was from Haven and that’s where he’s going next, and stay away from her even when she was in danger.

Ruby nearly died when she was attacked by Tyrian, Qrow barely reached her in time, but if he was honest and stayed with her throughout the journey to look out for her, and tell her his secrets like he expects Ozpin to do, then he would’ve been there from the moment Tyrian attacked. 

But he tells Clover immediately. Sure.

On the topic of Clover, I have to say this. I don’t like him. He’s really boring and I find myself caring for the rest of the Ace Ops way more than him. His weapon is dumb, his personality is just meh, but the positive is that his design is pretty cool. He has the Ace Ops uniform to tie him to his team, but with his own twist. I like all the good luck charms on his person, even if it does scream in your face that he’s meant to be lucky.

I’m sure no one was surprised when he said his Semblance was Good Luck. It’s as obvious as Qrow “Bad Luck Charm” Branwen and Leonardo “He’s the Cowardly Fucking Lion” Lionheart.

So that’s it for the episode. It’s certainly my least favourite of the Volume so far, given that it’s full of really annoying scenes that pull down the good, the fight with the Giest was over pretty quickly given how menacing they made it look in the trailer, and character moments that made me roll my eyes to the back of my skull.

Still better than “So That’s How It Is”, though.

Episode Rating: 6 / 10

[ryewi]

When I’m with you I’m in Utopia [Chapter 4]

Summary:  9 years ago, the world split in two halves, Utopia and Dystopia. One of the laws allows citizens of both worlds to visit the other once in their lifetime, for a whole week, after which, they’re forced to return home. If by any chance, they don’t return, a death punishment is sentenced. Jeon Jungkook, a citizen of Dystopia seemed to be desperate enough to challenge that exact law.

Genre: Utopia!au, Dystopia!au, fluff, angst, drama, to be added~~~

Words: 2k

Warnings: none in this chapter!

< Previous | Part Four | Next >

If there was one thing Faith realized way too late, is that Jungkook’s an astounding singer.  

His voice was quiet as he sang on the balcony, wandering off, with eyes focused somewhere far away in the distance. The piece he was singing was from a famous singer, a special song Faith once adored just because of its unique and slow melody. Yet, just as every song sang by big names in the industry, this one too, was killed to the core by radio stations that overplayed it  

Jungkook on the other hand, gave a new fresh and interesting feel to it, completely shutting down the original in her ears and bringing all the attention to the new vocals.

“Have you ever had a vocal coach?” Faith asked, startling the boy who was previously lost in his own world. Jungkook looked confused, eyes still fixed on something miles away, not sure why she asked such a question. Was he good? Or was that an implication of, you don’t know how to sing please get someone to help you. Debating about the two sides in his head, Jungkook remembered that Faith wasn’t a type to shade, yet he proceeded to check.

“Why do you ask?”  

“You just sound like an angel, that’s all” Faith looked down, intertwining her fingers and releasing them, feeling slightly uneasy all of the sudden. In all honesty, she wanted to ask Jungkook to sing more, his voice was unique and relaxing, but she wasn’t quite sure if he was comfortable with it. Jungkook snorted, lips pulling up in a slight smile, happy that his singing was likable.  

“I could sing more if you like it that much” He turned towards her, now completely stealing his attention from the car headlights in the distance and throwing it at the way of his friend. The corners of Faith’s mouth lifted upwards as she nodded along, it was exactly what she craved for.

“Do you have a music wish, perhaps?”  

“Whatever you’re comfortable with, Kook” She replied, the cute nickname throwing Jungkook out of balance for a few quick moments. It was Faith’s first time using a nickname, was he supposed to make one for her too? Fai? Fei? Fa? How do you, for the love of God, nickname someone named Faith?!

Jungkook put his music on shuffle, waiting for the lyrics to begin as he hummed along. Faith’s hand was propped on to a little hand, eyes fixed on to the breathtaking profile of his. Jungkook was prepossessing, alluring, magnetic, captivating, delightful and Faith was falling for every little aspect of this lovely person.

Song after song, melody after melody, the boy sang his heart out and after each piece, Faith’s heart tightened in fear of it being the last one. Eventually, around ten songs in, Jungkook skipped the lyrics and she pouted slightly, was it the end already? Could you say already?

“Can I ask you a question?” Jungkook asked, after which the other tensed slightly. Why did the atmosphere change this fast?

“Yeah, I mean, go on”

“Can you tell me more about yourself? Like some interesting memories?” The questions came out of nowhere, completely unexpectedly and she needed a moment to process the words, get her system going.

“I suppose it’s only fair now that I know a lot about you, right?” She began, to which Jungkook nodded, signaling for her to continue.

“Mom does that mean we’re in a good place?” Faith asked, eyes sparkling with a hopeful glow while they played between her parents and sister. They were all smiling, which must’ve meant a good thing, right? They’re all safe now, right?

“Yes honey, we’re chosen for Utopia” Her father began, moving his hands around while speaking, just like he always did. Noticing their daughter’s still confused eyes staring back, both of the adults said in unison, “the better half”.

Faith’s irises nearly disappeared under the cover of her eyelids as she smiled, they were safe. The whole experiment was unreasonable and stupid, but the suspense before the big finish (in this case, announcement) made her anxious. Surely, they didn’t deserve the struggle of experiencing the other world, right?

Her older sister, Luna, was evidently happy for a few moments, celebrating the news and unleashing all the excitement with her family. Then suddenly, she scanned a new message on her phone and the whole atmosphere changed. Luna’s eyes watered and she ran up to her room, refusing to come out for whole two days.  

Only a week later, Faith received the news of Luna’s fiancé being chosen as one of the citizens of Dystopia.

“Have they seen each other since then?” Jungkook asked, completely intrigued by the ending of Faith’s little story. She pouted slightly and nodded, remembering that both of them used their one week to visit each other for the last time.

“They have, the first week of the split, Luna travelled to Dystopia, and then the other, they came over, just so both of them can properly part their ways I guess” 

“That’s a plot for a novel let me tell you,” Jungkook laughed quietly, Faith following in suit, “we could use their story as a beginning of a book and then later on make a dramatic plot twist”.

Silence fell over them pretty quickly, Faith wondered should she continue her story telling and which topic to choose, while Jungkook thought about what he was the most curious about the other.

“You never told me you had a sister?” He began, eyebrow slightly raising in her direction. Faith realized that she really hasn’t told him anything about Luna, because of reasons that were unknown.

On Faith’s 15th birthday, she was taking a writing literature test. The theme was “White canvas painted black”. It was a pretty open theme, a simple group of letters that allowed students to find symbolism in whatever they thought was appropriate. Faith’s class was full of talented writers, many already competing in national championships in literature, but unfortunately for her, she wasn’t one of them. Never once has a free form theme managed to bring her a good grade, all she was ever good at describing and analyzing, were certain parts of books.  

Faith chewed on the eraser as she desperately tried to think of something that would make at least a tiny bit of sense. Tension was suffocating her and she began writing down a few random words that were later on scribbled over. Thankfully, she was seated in the last row, so taking out her phone and texting her sister wasn’t as risky as she thought it would be.

Also, by some kind of outer force, Luna was already hanging around in the area, cheerfully replying to her sister that she’ll be there in a few minutes.

Seconds turned into minutes, hours, weeks, time was limitless in Faith’s mind for exactly 5 minutes as she counted the number of red patches on her plaid red shirt.

Suddenly, five knocks echoed through the quiet classroom and everyone’s attention was quickly on the other side of the room. When Mr. Oakwell gave the permission for them to enter, through the door walked one and only, Faith’s savior, Luna.

Luna was a tall woman, standing straight with a dose of authority. Dark eyes contrasted her blond hair, that was neatly styled into tiny beach waves. Toned legs moved in sync as she walked a few steps away from the entrance, holding her small hands at the front. That day, she wore a black silk shirt, light shorts and black converse.  

“Excuse me for this intrusion, Mr...Oakwell, I am Luna Keith, Faith Keith’s older sister and I was told to urgently pick her up because our aunt was just taken into ER” Luna obnoxiously flapped her hands around, painting on a worried expression as her eyes danced between the professor and Faith. Although Faith knew it was a play, she couldn’t have said that the act wasn’t convincing.

“Aunt Keila? Oh my god Luna, is she okay?!” Faith said, standing up from her seat and looking back at her sister. Both of them looked thrown out of balance, providing the whole class with Oscar worth acting.  

“Please excuse yourself Faith, it’s okay, please go and see your aunt, she probably needs your support more than I need your papers” Mr. Oakwell hurriedly said, standing up and walking towards her seat, picking up the empty paper and shooing both of them with his hands. The Keith sisters thanked quickly, before they walked out of the building in rushed steps. They were lucky that Mr. Oakwell had a good, but also naïve heart.

Jungkook paid attention to each and every word, smiling while imagining everything the other said. If it was to believe Faith’s words, Luna was as witty and imaginative as her sister. If his trip wasn’t coming to an end, Jungkook would’ve probably asked to meet Luna. Silence enveloped the small space once again and both of them fell victims of their own minds.  

Instantaneously, Jungkook’s thoughts wrapped around a strong theme, the boy couldn’t stop thinking about his return. Only one more day that Jungkook had to live in and experience paradise before he escaped with no traces left behind. Once again, he sought comfort, but should the topic be talked about? Was it worth tearing the stiches and deepening the already existing wound?

“Two days, huh?” Faith began and Jungkook didn’t know was he glad or annoyed. What was there to be said? Yeah, I can’t wait to go back to my previous lifestyle, or, I really missed home. Unconsciously though, Jungkook ended up blurting our something extremely bold.

“Will you come and visit me, you know, in Dystopia?”  

Faith was evidently left shocked, the features of her face showed disbelief and confusion. She didn’t know what to say, it most definitely hasn’t ever crossed her mind. Travelling to Dystopia? It isn’t something Faith wanted to do. How would she find him? It was an accident that both of them met five days ago. Was she going to survive in there?  

“Jungkook, I... you know, this was all an accident and I don’t think we should repeat it” The words came out harsher than how Faith intended them to be. Jungkook shot her a look of incredulity, bewilderment evident on his face. Was she hiding the true thoughts about him all this time? Did he make a mistake sticking around for too long?  

“Oh no, no I didn’t-” The female began to stumble with her words, obviously thrown out of balance with the words herself too. Jungkook stood up from the chair, seizing a black leather jacket from the back of his seat and began heading out. Faith ran behind, grabbing on to Jungkook’s sleeve, forcing him to turn around.

“It’s okay, I understand what you wanted to say, I’m sorry that I didn’t take the hints before and left when I should’ve” Jungkook said, eyes starting to water, but with the way he blinked obnoxiously fast, tears disappeared the moment they were formed. Faith lunged forward, enveloping the other in her hands and tightening the hold as much as she could. It shouldn’t end on a bad note, anything, but a bad note.

“No, no Jungkook, there were no hints, I enjoyed your presence, everything was great-”  

Despite the truthful reassurance, Jungkook’s pessimist mind didn’t believe a word. He only stood motionless, hands resting on his sides, looking down at the smaller creature that was trying to finish a dark painting with brighter colors.

“I, I will come and visit you Jungkook, I’m just not ready yet-” She continued to ramble, no filter existing between the mind and mouth.  

The boy only disconnected two tiny hands from their tight grip behind his back, leading their owner to a chair and sitting her down. Faith’s breath was without any kind of rhythm, occasional hiccups breaking out as she watched the dark-haired boy before her.

“No, you don’t have to, when you think about it, it’s a really stupid idea, don’t come” Jungkook laughed, but the sound was dried out of any emotion, which hurt Faith even more. “I’ll miss you, I’ll miss everything, but, it’s better for it to stay an accident, just like you said”.

With that, he was up and walking, out of the room and entrance door, closing them slowly behind and leaving a broken creature on the other side.

AN: I’m blaming my classmate for this being a day late smh,,,,,,,,,,,,anyway! I hope you liked it, this was a slight buildup for the next chapter that my best friend gave me idea for (thanks Tamara), so I’m moving the drama chapter 5 to 6. It’ll be worth it, believe me. Thank you for reading, and I’ll see you soon!

[eldritchsurveys]

o96.

Have you ever had a bonfire on the beach? >> Nope. I’ve attended a bonfire in the forest, though, which was quite lovely.

Are you skilled when it comes to working in the kitchen? >> Not particularly. I can do the basics and that’s about it.

When was the last time you went to a campground? >> A few years ago, in Brooklyn.

Do you listen to music while driving? >> Sparrow is the driver and she plays her iPod. We’d switch up but the adapter is a Lightning cable and therefore doesn’t fit my phone. (In Wednesday’s car, the radio does what it wants -- except when Friday’s fucking with it, of course.)

Is there a movie you currently want to see? >> Sure, there are a lot of movies I want to see.

When was the last time you hung out with people younger than you? >> Well, Sparrow’s younger than me.

What is the closest blue object to you? >> A Black Panther blanket.

How much did you spend on your last shopping trip? >> I don’t remember.

Do you wish you had a better cellular plan? >> No, it’s fine for my purposes.

Are you good at buying gifts for people? >> I’d like to think so. I certainly don’t stress out about it as much as most people, which I think has its own benefits.

Would you consider yourself to be generous? >> At times.

Have you ever recieved an autograph from a celebrity? >> Yeah, a couple. But usually I got autographs from band members.

When was the last time you laughed so hard you cried? >> I don’t usually laugh hard enough to cry. Hard enough to lose my breath, yeah. Not so much cry.

Are you currently studying for your driver's lisence? >> No, but I did get to drive for the first time last weekend, and it was exhilarating. And not as difficult as I’d convinced myself it must be (so my first thoughts, before I started second-guessing, were right after all)! I’m still leery about getting on the road with actual other drivers, even in small-ass Wayland, but... I’ll get there eventually, I guess.

Have you ever gone over your cellphone plan by accident? >> Yeah, years ago.

Are you in a relationship with the last person you kissed? >> Sure.

Ever done something that at the time didn't bother you, but it did later? >> Yep.

Can you honestly say you've been drunk before? >> I can honestly say that.

Where did you get your last bruise from? >> I don’t remember the last time I was bruised. It takes a lot to bruise me.

Have you ever argued with a person of authority, and won? >> I don’t think so.

Is there a certain color of eyeshadow you prefer, if you wear eyeshadow? >> I like metallic shades.

Have you ever been addicted to mints? >> No, but I am somehow addicted to mint itself. I’m always huffing my lip balm because it has peppermint in it, lmao.

Are you a person that likes to take chances? >> Sure, sometimes.

Would you consider your life to be great right now? >> Sure, why not.

When a friend confides in you with their problems, do you listen? >> Sometimes. If that’s all they expect me to do, is listen, then yeah, it’s a lot easier. It’s when people want me to react a certain way that I have to determine whether I’m in the mood for that or not.

Do you have a piece of technology that should be dead, but it's still going? >> That reminds me of a netbook I used to have, Gilead, that I had to keep resurrecting because I couldn’t afford a new machine. It was definitely on borrowed time and performed horribly but I had no other option. When I finally got enough money to buy JARVIS, literally the day I brought JARVIS home Gilead gave up completely (probably with a sigh of relief, if computers could sigh). It’d done its best for me and finally it could rest. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated a machine more in my life than I did Gilead, even when I was frustrated with it.

When it rains, does it put the damper on your mood? >> Sometimes. Also, heh, damper.

What was the latest you stayed up in the past week? >> Probably around 1a.

Have you had an awkward situation with someone recently? >> Not to my knowledge.

Do you always seem to be losing your bobbypins? >> I don’t have any in the first place.

When was the last time you found something overwhelming? >> It probably had something to do with sensory overload. Or video games.

Going anywhere next year for vacation? >> I’m not sure, what with Sparrow going back to school and the wedding towards the end of the year.

Ever sent drunk texts? >> I’ve sent texts while intoxicated, but I think even my intoxicated texts were at least coherent. One time I texted Sparrow while tripping and it might have taken me about a half-hour to type it but it came out perfectly clear in the end, so.

Do you remember the dream you had last night? >> No, I just remember the part that had Hallie in it (probably because that’s the last bit that happened before I woke up).

How many dresses do you own? >> About 5 or so.

Do any of your friends seem like a brother or sister to you? >> No. I don’t know what that would feel like, and what would make it different from friendship.

What bothers you more, cigarette smoke or cigar smoke? >> Cigar smoke, it’s more fragrant and harder to breathe through.

What do you think of Leonardo DiCaprio? >> I think he’s neat. The Oscar-related memes were really funny for a while, and then he won one and killed the meme. :p

Have you ever seen a movie that messed with your mind? >> Sure. I used to prefer movies like that. I still kind of do, but I also can’t watch them all the time like I used to.

Do you look good in hats? >> Not most of them. It’s the lack of hair.

Can you see a noticeable difference between DVD and Blueray? >> I can’t, but that’s a personal handicap.

Is there a song you're currently listening to on repeat? >> No.

Are you going to make a mega wish at 11:11 on 11/11/11? >> I don’t think I did.

Speaking of numbers, do you have a lucky one? >> Nah.

What do you think musical artists who use autotune? >> I don’t have an opinion. I prefer not to listen to Autotuned singers most of the time, but I don’t judge them or anything.

Have you ever held hands with someone for no reason? >> There’s always a reason.

Has anything surprised you today? >> I don’t recall.

When was the last time you played a video game? >> I played Pillars of Eternity 2 earlier today. I didn’t think the Beast of Winter DLC would be so tedious and full of annoyingly difficult enemies, but I’m suffering through it because Rymrgand is my goth-god fave.

Have you ever just watched flames from a fire & just thought about things? >> Sure.

Are there any musical albums coming out soon that you can't wait for? >> I don’t even know what albums are due out.

Have you talked to your significant other today? >> Yeah.

Have you ever sat down and eaten an entire cake by yourself? >> Nooooo.

Do you have perfect vision? >> I don’t know if it’s perfect or not, but I do know it’s pretty damn good.

Is there something you want to buy right now? >> Not at this moment. Unless it’s tickets to see Wardruna in Boulder and the matching transportation tickets. :T

Do you know anyone who can speak Gaelic? >> I don’t think I know anyone personally that speaks it fluently.

When it comes to eye color, do you have a preference? >> No.

What was the most unique pet you've owned? >> Vivek used to have a baby krogan. Its name was Snuggles. 

Is your hair currently dyed? >> No.

Has something annoyed you recently? >> Probably.

Do you like Doritos? >> Nope.

When you buy clothes, do you always try them on first? >> Not always. I often regret that, but.

Have you used bugspray recently? >> No.

Do you enjoy swimming in the ocean? >> I enjoy being near the ocean, but I can’t swim, so I usually just stay in the part where the tide flows in.

Have you ever bitten through your lip by accident? >> No.

Are you good at coming up with dares? >> No.

Do you know someone with the last name Brown? >> Probably.

Is there somewhere in the world you would never go? >> War zones, most likely.

Have you ever tried to sew or knit anything? >> Yes. Oftentimes I succeeded.

Has someone ever told you something that left you speechless? >> Probably.

Has something ever happened to you that seemed like it was from a movie? >> Well, yeah.

Do you find yourself to be a believer in love at first sight? >> Not particularly, but I won’t profess to know other people’s experiences.

Or perhaps, do you believe that there's that "someone" out there for you? >> I mean, there’s definitely people out there who mesh well with me. I’m in a relationship with one of those people, so there’s evidence.

Does money really matter to you? >> Of course it does. I like not starving to death in a cardboard box in an alley, after all.

Is there something you want to do, that you swear you will, no matter what? >> I don’t think I can make that sort of promise.

Do you know anyone who is a germaphobe? >> Yes.

Have you ever just laid out and watched the stars? >> No, but I probably should one day.

Is there a song that gets you pumped up no matter what? >> Skindred’s got a couple songs like that. Sound of Madness by Shinedown is another good one.

How about a song that soothes your anger or sadness? >> I Know It’s Gonna Happen Someday by David Bowie. I mean, it also makes me sad, but like... a different kind of sad. A sweeter sad.

Have you ever cheated at a card game? >> No.

Tell me what colors you're wearing right now? >> Grey and black.

Have you ever wandered around drunk with your friend? >> Yep. And high, and tripping balls.

Are you longing for the day that you'll be an adult? (If you're not already) >> I am already an adult.

Have you ever felt like your heart actually stopped? >> No.

Are you a fast runner? >> I don’t know, anymore. I used to be, I think.

What's something you've vowed to never eat? >> Hm.

What emotions do you associate with the color blue? >> Calm, gentleness, melancholy, contentment, heaviness, apathy. Depends on the shade.

Do you have a "poker face"? >> Yeah.

Are you good at holding back your laughter if needed? >> Nope.

Do any of your friends shamelessly burp or fart in public? >> I used to have a friend that did.

When was the last time you had a good cry? >> I don’t know. Most cries are mediocre at best.

Has anyone ever told you they wanted to marry you? >> Yes.

Is there a soundtrack to a movie that you absolutely love? >> There are several soundtracks like that.

Do you have a place where you keep your keepsakes? >> No.

Have you ever had a "thumb war" with someone? >> Yep.

What's your favorite style of jeans? (Skinny, boot cut, flare, etc) >> Skinny and bootcut.

Have you ever owned a diary/journal with a lock and key? >> Yeah, my first diary as a child was like that.

Do you have trouble sleeping if you sleep anywhere else but home? >> Yep.

Have you ever been so unfortunate to suffer from a hangover? >> Nope.

Do any of your friends have particularly annoying habits? >> I mean, probably, yeah. 

Is there someone you know who can never mind their own business? >> Yep, lmao.

If you need a job, will you take whatever you can get? >> ---

When you were little, what movie did you watch over and over? >> I wasn’t allowed to do that.

Do you rely on caffeine to keep you awake sometimes? >> Nope. Caffeine makes me hyper-aware of my heartbeat and paranoid and shit, so I avoid it.

When it comes to tests or exams, are you a crammer? >> ---

Time goes by faster as you get older, don't you find? >> No. Check back in 20 years.

Have you ever had a panic attack? >> Yes.

Do you own anything made of silk? >> Nope.

Is there anyone you know who looks like their dog? >> LOL no. But I’ve seen that phenomenon in photos.

Are you deathly allergic to anything? >> Nope.

Have you ever had a mouse in your house? >> Yeah.

Has anyone you trusted ever backstabbed you? >> I don’t know, maybe?

Do you recycle? >> Not regularly.

Do you know what you want for your dream house? >> ---

Have you ever seen the movie the Notebook? >> Nope.

Trying to put yourself in someone's shoes can be difficult at times, true? >> LMAO “at times”...

If you download torrents, what torrent program do you use? >> uTorrent.

If you go to school, will this year be different? >> ---

Do you own a trenchcoat? >> Yeah, technically, but I can’t wear it because it’s too small. >:|

The last person you kissed, have they ever done something special for you? >> Can Calah is always doing things for me.

Do you know anyone who DOESN'T have an ex? >> I don’t think so.

Are you able to count to ten in another language? >> Yes.

Is there something you know you have to do, but haven't done it yet? >> Not at this moment.

Is anyone you know really religious? >> Probably.

Can you sing? >> Yes.

Have you ever read "Gone With the Wind"? >> Nope.

If you look back at pictures of yourself from years ago, do you hate it? >> Hell no, I love older photos of myself. They’re adorable.

Have you ever used the photo editing site "Picnik"? >> Oh yeah, I remember Picnik.

Are your eyebrows naturally thick? >> Yep.

Is there someone that likes you and won't leave you alone? >> Not in an unwanted sense.

Has an animal ever taken a strong dislike to you? >> Probably.

When was the last time someone gave you a hand written letter? >> Rez did, with a package she sent me a few months ago.

Has someone ever told you how they felt about you in a letter? >> I don’t think so.

Have you ever told someone else how you felt about them in a letter? >> I don’t think so.

Do you find emails to not be as personal as letters? >> No.

Enough about letters, have you ever broken the law? >> Yes.

Have you ever attempted to cut your own hair? >> I cut my own hair every few weeks. I’m going to do it again tomorrow morning.

Has speaking in front of people ever made you sick? >> Nope.

Do you follow a lot of bands and musicians on myspace? >> I used to, back when it was active.

Have you ever wanted to tell someone how you felt, but never did? >> Yeah.

What was the last movie that made you teary-eyed? >> Oh, god, The Equalizer 2 ruined me.

Do you have a lucky or special coin? >> No.

Do you find you have a lot of notebooks that aren't close to being filled? >> No. I don’t buy notebooks anymore for that exact reason, no matter how pretty they are. I know better.

Do you love ice cream cake more than normal cake? >> No.

Do you sometimes write "lol" when in reality, you aren't laughing? >> Yep. At this point it’s reflexive more than anything else.

Have you had a piece of jewellry that turned your skin green? >> Yeah, so I don’t wear it anymore.

Do you check your email daily? >> I have a Chrome extension that alerts me to new emails, so yeah, I do end up seeing my emails daily.

Is there anyone you know who's in any way, paralyzed? >> Not anyone I know personally, unless it’s someone online who doesn’t talk about it ever.

Your significant other, are they shorter, taller or the same height as you? >> Sparrow is an inch taller than me. Can Calah is generally a little shorter than me, by his own preference.

Is there a certain type of music you love but don't tell many people about? >> Nope.

Do you know all the words to your national anthem? >> Yeah.

Have you ever breathed in helium? >> Yeah. Highly recommended.

Are you currently hungry? >> Nah.

Do you try to be confident and positive about your future? >> I don’t try to be anything about the future.

The truth all comes out when someone is drunk, true? >> Untrue. Maybe in some cases, yes, because alcohol tends to amplify what’s already going on with people... but I wouldn’t take what someone says in a drunken tirade super-seriously unless I had good reason to (based upon sober interactions and prior knowledge of the individual). 

Just a random question, but can you tap dance? >> Nope.

No one really bothers with the legal drinking age anymore, do they? >> ...What?

When was the last time you felt disappointed in yourself? >> I don’t remember.

How about feeling disappointed in someone else? >> I don’t remember.

For you, do you commonly feel more jealousy or envy? >> Envy.

Do you rely on the heads/tails flipping of a coin sometimes for decisions? >> Sometimes, yeah.

Do you have any specific chores you do around the house? >> I do the vacuuming most often.

Have you ever owned a garden? >> No.

Who was the last person to text you? >> Sparrow.

Does a blank sheet of paper sometimes prove to be inspiring? >> Not for me, it doesn’t.

For you, does comfort or fashion come first in dressing? >> It really is a combination of both. Luckily, most of the fashion I like is made to be comfortable, so.

Have you had two friends that absolutely hated each other? >> Yeah.

Do you ever find yourself trying to be the referee amongst your friends? >> Nope. I’m over that shit. Kill each other if you like.

Is there someone who always gives you inspiring advice? >> No.

Everyone has a role model. Who's yours? >> Apparently I am not “everyone”.

Do you ever "play drums" on tables or other hard surfaces? >> Yeah, sometimes.

Has a laptop ever burned your legs? >> Yep.

Do you know anyone who has a scar through their eyebrow? >> Yeah, actually, but I don’t remember who... weird.

Do you feel compelled to brush your hair hourly? >> Hell no.

Who was the last person to flip you off? >> Sparrow, because we do that to each other for the lulz.

Give me a list of the objects currently close to you? >> Okay, nah.

Are you doing anything the day after tomorrow? >> Yeah, hopefully going to the Grand Rapids Public Museum to see the Be the Astronaut exhibit, which I’d been hype as shit for.

Anyone's birthday coming up soon? >> Someone’s, I’m sure. Oh, Vlad’s is towards the end of the month, yeah.

Would you ever wear fake eyelashes? >> I’d try it but I bet they’d make me overstimulated.

Do you make the effort to smile at people? >> Sometimes, if I feel like it.

Are you good at following directions? >> If I feel like it.

Have you ever just screamed really loud in an attempt to feel better? >> No.

Are you in any way, still a child at heart? >> Sure.

Quality triumphs over quantity, correct? >> For the most part. There are always exceptions, I’m sure.

Have you ever danced when there was no music playing? >> Probably.

Do you have someone that you can just act a fool with and not care? >> Probably.

Have you ever listened to the uilleann pipes (Irish pipes)? >> I don’t think so, unless I have and didn’t know what they were.

Do you like Laffy Taffy? >> Sometimes. I don’t really eat candy much, though.

Is there any food within an arm's reach of you right now? >> Yeah.

From where you're sitting, can you touch a wall? >> I could if the back of this futon wasn’t in the way.

Would you ever stand at the bow of a ship & yell I'm the king of the world? >> Maybe, lol.

Do you know anyone who every second word they say seems to be a curse? >> Eh, not really.

Have you recieved a text today that made you go "wtf"? >> No.

When at a restaurant, do you put your napkin on your lap? >> Yeah.

Is there a saying you always seem to be using? >> I don’t know, I can never remember this sort of thing on command.

Are you even feeling the least bit tired? >> Yep. It’s bedtime after this. It’s actually over my bedtime because I underestimated how long it’d take me to get through this.

Is there currently any caffeine or alcohol in your system? >> Nope.

Do you prefer electric or manual pencil sharpeners? >> Electric is fine.

Are your biceps at all noticeable? >> Not so much anymore.

Have you ever seen a walrus? >> Not in person.

Do you have a preference: white erasers or pink erasers? >> My preference is good erasers.

Did you ever have one of those easy bake ovens as a kid? >> Nope.

When it comes to dropping food, do you believe in the 10 second rule? >> No, because it’s scientifically unsound. If I do eat food off the floor, it’s while knowing that I’m taking a risk.

When it comes to driving, do you know about the 2 second rule? >> I don’t know about that, no.

If given the opportunity, would you ride on a camel? >> Hell yeah, I’d at least try it.

Do you believe that cellphones actually do cause cancer? >> I don’t fuckin know. Existence causes cancer, tbh, so hey, whatever.

Is there anyone you know who won't get one because of this belief? >> I don’t know anyone like that, no.

When people you know cry, does it make you feel like crying too? >> Nope.

Laughter is universally contageous, right? >> Not necessarily. But I am more likely to laugh when someone else is laughing, because I like to laugh (and find a lot of shit funny).

[hong-kong-art-man]

“The Artistic Lawyer or the Lawyerlike Artist?”

(acknowledgement: Interview of Hong Kong Lawyer, publication of The Law Society of Hong Kong, with Maurice Lee) (by Sonali Khemka)

There is a widely accepted theory that people are either left-brained or right-brained, meaning that one side of their brain is dominant. If you are mostly analytical and methodical in your thinking, you are said to be left-brained. If you tend to be more creative or artistic, you are thought to be right-brained. In Maurice Lee’s case however, the equal dominance of both sides has shaped him into the person he is today – a lawyer with the soul of an artist.

Writing Right

Lee enjoyed writing from as early as his teenage years, when he would take part in and win several writing competitions in high school. Encouraged by these victories, he applied for an after-school-scriptwriting class organised by Hong Kong TVB in 1978 – a class that only had twenty spots and over 3,000 applicants. At the age of seventeen and still in high school, Lee managed to bag a place as the youngest member of the class. “The classes were intense. They were held five times a week in the evenings and for three hours each,” he recalls. His immense enjoyment of the activity and aptitude for it led him to not only complete the course but also work part-time as a scriptwriter for TVB for few years after graduating from high school. At the time, his heart was set on becoming a professional scriptwriter or director.

However, the left side of his brain nudged at this point and Lee was tempted to pursue a university degree and career that was more academically sound and commercially viable. “My family told me that if you are in the creative field in the early 80s, you will face a very rocky path with many ups and downs. But if you are a lawyer, you have a safe landing,” he shares. After an internal battle between the left and right side of his brain, Lee eventually accepted his place in The University of Hong Kong’s School of Law. Not keen on giving up on his creative side, he continued working as a part-time scriptwriter for TVB throughout his four years in law school, focusing primarily on hour-long dramas and eventually switching to comedy. “I was good at writing dramas, but the producer told me I was not emotionally mature for the material in the drama shows,” he recalls amusingly. “I wasn’t at the appropriate age to write about passionate love affairs and dramatic struggles, so I switched to comedy,” he adds.

Lee’s creative career has taken different shapes and forms – a result of his willingness to not over plan and make the most of any worthy opportunity. In the mid-1980s, he wrote as a columnist for local newspapers, contributing 500-word prose pieces in Chinese on various topics and in the 1990s, Lee even garnered a fair amount of fame as a program host for a talk show for Commercial Radio Hong Kong. Around the same time, he was invited to write fiction literature by Cosmos Books and channeled his very own John Grisham by opting to write legal fictions. His present creative career, which commenced around six years ago, stems from an invitation from two online news platforms – HK01 and Orange News – to write critiques on different forms of art and culture, varying from movies and plays to visual arts and cultural trends. He supplements this with his own Facebook page, named “HKArtMan” where he shares his views on the same in a personal capacity. In addition, Lee also takes on the role of performance organiser when time permits and has previously organised a play and a concert – something he believes Hong Kong is in more need of.

Hong Kong’s Art Scene

Lee believes that prior to the 2000s, the city’s art and cultural scene was plagued by apathy and was a severely overlooked area. In the 2000s, Lee feels the situation has improved but not enough. “There is more curiosity and awareness, but people do not do enough to support the development of art and culture. There is too much financial reliance on the government only,” he shares. “Hong Kong is in a serious need for rebranding,” he adds. “We are currently just a financial center – like Zurich or Luxembourg and relying too much on old industries like logistics and trading,” he explains. Lee envisions a Hong Kong that is on par with global cultural and financial hubs like London or New York City and believes moving towards intangible assets or intangible intellectual property such as the arts is crucial. “We need commercial energy to be put into the art and cultural circles and more money from private companies and investors. That way more people will feel encouraged to pursue artistic careers because they can earn a decent income, which will in turn drive Hong Kong’s art and cultural scene,” he shares. His ultimate dream is what he calls an “Art Economy for Hong Kong,” an environment whereby art becomes more than just a leisurely activity and can be pursued as a commercially viable career.

In order to help realise his vision for a more art-savvy Hong Kong, he plans on putting together a concert and a musical for export to the Greater Bay Area (GBA) next year. “If they are staged only in Hong Kong, there can be less than five shows. However, if I export them to eleven cities in the GBA region, I can stage sixty shows – it makes more sense as an economically sustainable activity,” he explains. Lee believes exporting Hong Kong’s artistic talent is key, if financial prosperity in the arts and cultures is to be achieved. He recalls Hong Kong’s former status as “Hollywood of the East”, a time when films made in the city were enjoyed fervently beyond the borders. Similarly, he is hopeful that other forms of home-made art will also someday be appreciated in different markets.

Critically Creative

For Lee himself, he is content with how his career and personality have shaped out to be. “People tell me as a lawyer I talk like an artist, and as an artist I talk like a lawyer,” he shares. “As a lawyer, I am more sentimental, humanitarian and expressive and as an artist, I always have a mental framework. Artists can be quite unorganised. I am very organised. I put bits and pieces under different headings and am good at fulfilling long-term artistic projects because as a lawyer you are always handling long term cases. You have to be systematic and strategic,” he explains.

Lee encourages lawyers to pursue a creative side too, albeit on a personal level – something he believes would only make them more professionally sought-after. “People think lawyers are checklist animals, I think they are more than that. There is a lot of creativeness and criticality involved in being a lawyer when we handle a case and we should keep those sides alive,” he shares. “There are two minds in demand nowadays – the creative mind and the critical mind. No matter what profession you are in, you should have both,” he adds. He is aware that evolving from executors who merely follow instructions to critical thinkers who ask questions and initiate change can cause adverse reactions – “People find this type of person to be very maa faan (annoying/troublesome), they know too much and ask too much,” he shares with a grin. “But it is important to stand out, both minds will help each other,” he adds.

As a consumer or spectator, his favourite types or forms of art include ballet, paintings by American artist Edward Hopper and the diminishing art of Cantonese opera. “I admire ballet because it is so physically challenging and difficult. I like paintings by Edward Hopper because they make me feel sad – his pieces are very poignant. And I treasure Cantonese opera because it is sadly disappearing. They use old Shakespearean style Chinese dialect which might someday vanish completely,” he explains.

Having enjoyed a rewarding career so far, with ups and downs, with legal wins and creative commendations in abundance, Lee has a particular memory that still lingers vividly. “Fifteen years ago, I was the Vice-Chairman of the Hong Kong Arts Development Council. At that time, the famous movie director Johnnie To and I organised the first outdoor media art exhibition outside the Hong Kong Cultural Centre in Tsim Sha Tsui. The idea was to do some artistic projections on the external wall of the cultural centre and these projections were shut off by 11:00pm. I was at the exhibition till closing on the first day when a young boy came up to me, shortly past 11:00pm. He was 14-15 years old and he begged me to allow him into the exhibition area. He said his family is poor and he works at McDonalds at night. He lives in Tai Po and has come all the way to Tsim Sha Tsui to view the exhibition because he was so interested in what it might be like,” Lee recalls. Moved by the young boy’s passion and determination, he allowed him in as an exception. Till this date, Lee wonders what became of that young boy and whether he ended up pursuing something artistic. “I was so touched and amazed and I wonder how many boys and girls or men and women in Hong Kong have that kind of passion for something non-commercial, something artistic and spiritual,” he muses. If it fortunately turns out to be that the boy is one of our readers, Lee would be delighted to hear from you.

The Law Society of Hong Kong Journal

MLee

中文版 Chinese Version: 

https://www.patreon.com/posts/wo-de-2021nian-53673006?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copy_to_clipboard&utm_campaign=postshare

"Youth Dance"  Acknowledgement - 中國有嘻哈 official   https://youtu.be/PNlC__GiqaY

Movie: “Time” Trailer  Acknowledgement-安樂影片 Edko Films Ltd https://youtu.be/g0TT_mwq-DI

Interview of Petrina Fung and Patrick Tse  Acknowledgement – ATV 亞視數碼媒體  https://youtu.be/BJnMtmaLzwQ

[my-mystic-messenger]

MC is Saeran’s and Saeyoung’s Roomate [Part 3]

@angel0sh you ask and you shall receive! Part 3 of the Choi Twin’s and MC adventures. Hope you enjoy :3

you having a thing for Jumin is beyond their comprehension, geniuses or not

Saeran doesn’t really like anyone in the RFA and believes no one to be worthy of someone as amazing as you. Saeyoung just cannot fathom how anyone could fall in love with a living stone. Maybe it was because of Elly?

the worst part was they couldn’t even tell you just how much they disapproved of your choices in men, because technically they weren’t even supposed to know those choices had been made

so maybe Saeyoung had stumbled over your diary while cleaning your room – read; snooping through your room to find some sort of blackmail material against you for emergencies

and maybe Saeyoung had gotten so excited he’d read the whole damn thing in one sitting only to feel guilty about having done it

which had possibly lead to him purposefully hiding the thing in plain sight for his brother to find to lure him into the dirty secret as well

lucky for Saeyoung the plan actually worked and Saeran read the whole thing even faster than he himself did, if possible

Saeyoung had actually been forced to tackle his brother whose first instinct it had been to go make fun of you for the rest of your life

the contents of that thing were written gold!

well, all but the most recent pages which Saeran even more so than his brother highly opposed

Jumin Han?! He’d have been mad at you for falling in love with any man but out of all the available ones you had to choose that stuck up prick? No, he couldn’t accept it

not even if he found the fact that you’d written down his and your name in a heart about a hundred times quite adorable

who knew you little witch could be adorable when you wanted to be?

certainly not the Choi twins

the problem with keeping quiet, however, was the fact that the world didn’t just magically stop rotating around itself and time passed

knowing of your feelings for Jumin made chatting in the messenger very awkward and suddenly all your seemingly innocent conversations you’d had with the CEO in line changed in the twins’ minds

even worse when Jumin seemingly began reciprocating your feelings which of course no one else seemed to notice because the dude was a freaking stone even on his best days!!

things took a turn for the worse when you finally opened up about your feelings, telling the twins your big secret which of course they already knew

neither of them had ever been good actors but that night, they earned themselves Oscars for acting surprised and above all supportive

God they’d wanted to tell you just how strange your choices were to them, but you’d look so hopeful with your glistening eyes and shy blush they just couldn’t break your art with their disapproval

sadly it was a lot harder to play nice and supportive when an infatuation turned into a relationship they weren’t happy with at all

Jumin was weird on his best days and not someone either of the twins dreamed of spending more time with than  necessary

with the two of you dating, however, they had to see a lot more of his annoying symmetrical mug

you either didn’t notice how unhappy the twins were or you chose to ignore it, because you couldn’t have been happier even if you tried

whenever the dude was around the sun seemed to shine out of your ass and neither of the twins was above admitting that they were jealous

weren’t they good enough for you? What did you need a boyfriend for if you had them?

it hit Saeran especially hard. So much so that he hacked C&R just to find something he could use against that pompous prick

as it turned out, there was nothing to find and it surprised Saeyoung just how frustrated that made him feel. Jumin was his friend! What was their problem?

the twins figured it out about a month into your now public relationship with Jumin: they were scared

Jumin made you happy in ways that they couldn’t. Every time you came home from a date you were giddy and beaming from ear to ear. They’d never seen you like that

even worse, the dates became more frequent and the more time you spent with Jumin, the less time you had for them

sure they knew such thoughts were selfish – after all you were their best friend and finally happy – but they couldn’t help themselves

especially when suddenly the media started to spit out rumours about your apparent engagement to Jumin and neither you nor him seemed all too bothered by the idea

your casualty set alarms of in the Choi’s heads

if you married Jumin, that would mean you’d have to leave them

they couldn’t survive without you! They’d kill one another by the end of the week!

“You don’t suppose he’ll want to move in with us, do ya, Saeyoung?”

“Nope, I fear not.”

the dreaded day came much sooner than either of the Choi’s were prepared for

the fucker moved fast!

You came home with a ring on your finger, excited to share every last detail of Jumin’s surprise proposal with the brothers

neither of which were especially excited about the news. In fact, they seemed rather miserable

“Okay, what’s going on, guys? Spit it out.”

they couldn’t hold it in anymore, telling you all about the jealousy and the crippling fear of losing you. They told you just how much they loved you and how no man in the world, not even Jumin Han, was good enough for you

you admittedly almost cried, but that might have been the engagement buzz talking

“You guys are such knuckleheads”, you’d chuckled, pulling both of them into a hug

“You’ll never get rid of me, no matter where I live or with whom. You aren’t just ordinary friends or some kind of ex-boyfriends I’ll be replacing with Jumin. You are my brothers, my family. I love you more than anything in the world and if you really think I won’t be bugging you about eating your veggies and cleaning your rooms until the day we are old and grey, you aren’t half as smart as you think you are.

maybe they cried, maybe they didn’t

maybe they threatened to kill Jumin and dispose of him without a trace if he ever hurt you, maybe they didn’t

and maybe they eventually allowed Jumin in, welcoming him into the Choi family because anyone who made you happy, was good enough for them

but that was just what brothers did, right?

[silvokrent]

One Way Ticket

Courage comes at a cost, and a round trip is outside of Oscar’s budget.

Oscar.

His first impulse was to tell the voice to go away, followed immediately by diligently ignoring him—like he’d been doing for the last four hours. Oscar scrunched his face and nestled as far back into the stiff leather seat as he could, folding his arms more securely over his chest.

Oscar, I know you’re awake.

When he didn’t respond Ozpin spoke again, a hint of impatience bleeding into his tone. Your immature behavior is highly unbecoming. You cannot continue to pretend that my existence is—

“Fine!” Oscar snapped, a little louder than intended. A quick, furtive glance around the coach told him there was no one within the immediate vicinity to have overheard, and he winced. Last thing he wanted to do was attract attention from other passengers, or have to explain to the conductor why he was talking to himself, and if you could just step off to the side, sir, we have some medical professionals that would love to speak with you.

As I’ve said before, you fall within the legal definition of sane. No amount of scrutiny on their part would warrant institutionalization.

“I really wish you’d stop doing that,” Oscar said, but he knew it was ultimately a losing battle: Ozpin could no more help reading his thoughts than he could stop breathing. Instead, he settled on feeling annoyed at the intrusion to his sleep, something which he felt fully justified in blaming Ozpin for. “What do you want?”

We’re here, Ozpin answered.

The words had barely formed in his head before Oscar scrambled to face the window. The tumorous anxiety that had felt so comfortably far away came lurching back, lodging itself squarely in his midriff. Small wonder why, as he gaped at the looming mountains before them.

Photographs from textbooks could hardly be said to do justice to the grandeur of Mistral’s capitol. A deep fissure cleaved its twin peaks, dividing the mountain into separate, stony towers. Tendrils of mist enrobed the outcrops, fathomless and ethereal, partially obscuring the infrastructure embedded into its cliffsides. What buildings he could see stood out stark-white against the foliage that spilled from the crags. At the summit perched the largest compound he’d seen yet, its foundation precariously arched between the two peaks.

Haven Academy, Ozpin clarified, somewhat unnecessarily.

“My aunt used to call it the ‘Kingdom in the Clouds,’” he said, unable to look away. “I thought she was exaggerating. I knew Mistral was in the mountains, but I didn’t think it was so…”

Breathtaking?

“High up,” Oscar answered. He clutched his rucksack more securely to his chest, drawing little comfort from the roughspun fabric and earthy smell that so desperately reminded him of home. “How do all those people even live up there?”

People born here have adapted to the climate and elevation, Ozpin replied. The same can’t be said for tourists, I’m afraid. Foreigners unacclimated to such extreme heights tend to experience acrophobia and mild altitude sickness.

“Thanks for telling me that after I boarded the train.”

Ozpin ignored the barbed accusation. The benefits of such a lifestyle far outweigh the negatives.

“Like what? If I want to kill myself I just need to step outside my front door and jump?”

That comment got a rise out of Ozpin, like he’d hoped; a flash of momentary irritation passed through his thoughts, before being promptly smothered out. He got the impression Ozpin was taking a deep breath. That was uncalled for, came the stilted admonishment.

Oscar didn’t bother to acknowledge his disapproval. Two could play at that game. “Okay, so what are the benefits of living on a mountain?”

There was a pause, followed by a nonexistent sigh. The geography makes the mountains a natural fortress. Early mountaineers discovered that the Grimm had as difficult of time as they did when it came to scaling the cliffs. Eventually, as more people settled the area, they had the strength in numbers to repel even the most tenacious of Grimm. The ones that survived those encounters quickly learned they would not find easy prey.

Oscar remembered the weather vane his aunt kept on the barn roof, and its striking resemblance to a Cockatrice. “But it’s not just the four-legged ones, like Beowolves and Ursa, right?” he asked. “There are Grimm with wings, too. How do you stop something that can fly?”

The observation seemed to impress Ozpin; Oscar almost regretted asking for that reason alone. The last impression he wanted to give the headmaster was that he actually cared about any of this. It isn’t just the exterior that people live on, Ozpin said. The mountains contain a vast network of cave systems—shallow enough for humans to occupy, but not so deep that they would hide any unwelcome threats. The second answer to your question is that Mistral developed artillery for shooting down airborne species of Grimm. Most of them tend to avoid the skies over the city.

Oscar made a noncommittal noise, hoping it would be enough of a response to satisfy Ozpin. The anticipation that had been lurking dormant in his gut made itself known, causing a wave of nausea to momentarily pass over him. Subconsciously, he reached for the patchwork cloth in his pocket and worried it until the sensation ebbed.

We’ll be arriving shortly, Ozpin observed. If he noticed his discomfort, he tactfully chose not to comment on it. You haven’t eaten in a while. Now might be a good opportunity to do so.

Because what a great first impression that would make, as he stepped off the train and proceeded to vomit into the nearest trash can. There was a twisted sort of logic to that though, and yeah, he was hungry, even if the constant jitters had reduced his stomach to a braided knot. And the mutinous part of his brain pointed out that refusing to eat would only make the old man harp on him until he relented, because Ozpin was that kind of asshole.

Your wellbeing is my concern. Ozpin sounded reproachful. If ensuring that you eat and sleep are condemnable offenses, then I apologize.

“Noticed that you didn’t deny it,” Oscar reasoned in a voice that was just on the side of smug. He went to unzip his bag, and paused at a sudden, intrusive thought. “And you can’t pretend that you’re doing this just because you care about me.”

He felt Ozpin do the mental equivalent of stiffening. What do you mean?

“If I die,” he told the empty carriage, “you die too. So you kind of have to make sure I eat, and sleep, and don’t accidentally walk off a cliff at night because it’s dark.”

A loaded silence followed.

Do you honestly believe that my concern for you is only out of obligation? There was a weird undercurrent of strain in Ozpin’s voice that Oscar didn’t immediately know how to reconcile.

Not sure how to answer, and not entirely comfortable with the question either, Oscar dug through his bag instead.

In truth, he’d never been outside the countryside before, so packing hadn’t been a skill he needed to perfect. It showed in the way he hastily crammed everything into the tight space, spare clothes balled up alongside what few provisions he’d smuggled. Handing his aunt a shopping list of survival necessities and asking her to pick them up the next time she went to market hadn’t exactly been an option, so they’d had to improvise. Against Ozpin’s advisement, Oscar had been as sparing as he could when raiding the kitchen. Partly, because guilt wouldn’t allow him to rob blind the woman that had taken him in after his parents had died. The other part had been due to Ozpin’s frustrating vagueness about the trip length as a whole. Don’t overpack because you can’t afford to be encumbered, but don’t underpack, either, because your supplies need to last for—and Ozpin refused to clarify how long that was, exactly.

Oscar was still trying to figure out whether that had been some obnoxious test meant to teach him self-reliance, or if Ozpin was just as uncertain and trying to bluff about it. The latter was terrifying and not a thought to be dwelled on.

There were the essentials, of course: a bedroll, something that laughably passed for a first aid kit, and an assortment of non-perishable food. His rations consisted of hardtack, strips of jerky, a container filled with Pumpkin Pete’s cereal (its inclusion had unnerved Ozpin for some weird reason), and fruit slices he and his aunt had harvested and dried a couple of months ago.

Lien was the only resource Oscar refused to steal. Without him being there to pitch in, his aunt was going to struggle with upkeeping the farm. And he’d sooner light himself on fire before he left her destitute.

A noble sentiment, Ozpin commented. Thought he didn’t seem to care much for Oscar’s fixation with any thoughts that involved hurting himself.

Rather than deign to answer, Oscar dug out a strip of salted beef and tore off a chunk. He took his time chewing the leathery meat. The jaw workout gave him an excuse to not talk to the headmaster until the train eased into the station.

Upon coming to a standstill, the automatic doors gave a pneumatic hiss and slid open. Noise from the outside world flooded the coach interior. Through the doors of the adjoining cars, Oscar could hear the muffled sounds of passengers collecting their luggage and descending out onto the platform. The background ambiance had his senses on a heightened sort of edge, compounded by his own trepidation, and for a wild moment Oscar seriously considered not getting up.

He sensed Ozpin’s hesitation, but for once he didn’t intervene. Rather, he gave the impression of retreating from his space. As if waiting for whatever choice he would make.

Nothing was stopping him from staying in his seat (apart from the impending end of the world and whatever perilous, incomprehensible destiny Ozpin had alluded to). This train would depart, and he’d find himself standing on that platform where Hazel had first procured a ticket for him. Oscar would trudge back through the copse until the farmhouse and barn were in sight. And standing there would be his aunt, yelling inarticulate curses even as she swept him into her arms with a hug that threatened to crack his ribs. The stability and monotony of his life would return, comfortable farm chores and all.

Minus Ozpin, whose disappointment and fear would be never-ending. Constant reminders of the responsibilities he’d inherited and then abandoned. And for what?

Oscar knew it was deluded to think for a moment that he could ever escape whatever—this was. And any attempt to pretend at normalcy would torture them both. He knew it, and Ozpin knew it. They were delaying the inevitable.

It was the hardest and the easiest thing, to sling his bag over his shoulder and disembark.

…Thank you, Ozpin said. An unspoken gravity permeated his words, one whose meaning escaped Oscar. And I’m sorry.

“You didn’t ask for this either.” With the commotion of the people around them, being overheard was a minimal risk. He weaved through the throng, head determinedly held down. “And there’s no point pretending this is avoidable. I don’t have a choice. Not really, anyway.”

We always have a choice. Those words were said with a surprising amount of conviction. Even when our choices are presented to us as unconquerable hardships.

“You realize the choices here are doing nothing and eventually dying, or actively doing something that’ll likely get me killed, right?” Oscar scoffed. “Our ‘unconquerable hardship’ is death. And when the outcome for both options is the same that’s hardly a choice.”

Lesser men are often tempted to do what’s easy, not what’s right. That you are standing here now is a testimony to which you are. The measured, even tones were retracted for something that was both fierce and reassuring. And I will do all that I can to keep you safe. You have my word.

Something in him recoiled.

“You couldn’t even keep yourself safe when you were alive”—Oscar balled his fists—“and now I’m here because of it.”

All right, maybe he said that a little louder than he should have. At least it had the desired effect of getting Ozpin to shut up. (He didn’t feel guilty about that. He didn’t.)

“Just do me a favor, okay?” Oscar asked. Gradually, his hands unclenched, and with a shaky exhale he resumed walking. “I don’t want to think about it. And I don’t want you to make any promises you can’t keep. Just—focus on getting us where we need to go for now. Can we do that?”

The specter of compromise hovered in his words, a tentative truce that Ozpin accepted willingly enough. This station resides on the city’s mid-level. There’s a vertical lift not far from here that we may dock, that should take us directly to Haven’s campus.

“Sounds good.”

The problem with talking to the voice in his head was that it tended to dampen his peripheral awareness. Multitasking this weird magic with everything else left him a bit disconnected from his surroundings, and for the first time Oscar took stock of what he was actually seeing.

If colors could be loud, then Mistral was nothing short of deafening. Large silk banners fluttered in the breeze overhead, strung between pavilions by beaded cords. Bright and eye-catching wares occupied every available inch of counter space: polished scimitars and submachine guns, dark green bonsais, opulent incense burners, even fruits he didn’t have names for.

The one you’re looking at is called a durian, Ozpin said. I wouldn’t recommend trying it if you don’t have a strong stomach. The odor can be somewhat pungent.

Oscar suppressed a snort. “With what money?”

…You seem rather cagey. Ozpin sidestepped the rhetorical question. Is something the matter?

Any attempt to dismiss that claim was belied somewhat by the way he jumped when a vendor spilled the contents of a crate, creating a minor commotion.

“I’ve never been to the city before. To any city before,” Oscar clarified, like it wasn’t painfully obvious. The crowd surged around him, dozens of faces that either went without acknowledging his presence, or lingered for longer than was necessary. He was all the more acutely aware of his stature and age, and he had to savagely beat down the impulse to wrap his arms around his shoulders. With the passersby hemming him in, he felt claustrophobic.

“Hey, Oz? What’s the worst-case scenario that could happen here, hypothetically?”

Your mileage may vary, depending on what you think constitutes a “worst-case scenario.” Ozpin hummed in thought. In all likelihood, very little beyond having to wait a while before we get our audience at Haven.

“But let’s say something happens. Something that isn’t me having to sit in a waiting room.” The hitch in his voice that he was unsuccessful at stamping out got Ozpin’s attention. As it did the attention of a rather unsettling-looking man whose face was partly concealed by bandages. Oscar didn’t imagine the red welling up through the dressings, and his heartbeat quickened. “Let’s say that this headmaster we’re supposed to find—”

Leonardo Lionheart.

He continued over the interruption: “What if he’s not there? Or what if he refuses to see us because I’m just a nobody from off the streets?”

The former is unlikely. He’s not prone to traveling, even between semesters. Nor is he the type to pass judgment based on preconceived notions.

His eye caught a puddle cradled in the cobblestones of the footpath. Oscar frowned at his reflection. “I look homeless. Is he really going to take the time to meet a kid that isn’t an applicant to his deadly combat school?”

With the correct phrasing, yes, Ozpin assured him. His mild tone and unflappable outlook were quickly becoming a point of contention for Oscar, if only because they were so dissonant with his own palpable unease. At the edge of his vision, he caught the movements of a group of hooded strangers clustered away from the stalls. There was no mistaking the way they leered at him, hands hovering at their sides over what were undoubtedly concealed weapons. His pulse spiked in his throat, and Oscar could feel the weight of the rucksack between his shoulders.

“For just one minute”—Oscar took a steadying breath—“pretend we don’t live in a perfect world where things go according to your plan. Mistral is dangerous, and I don’t have the money to rent a room at an inn. What do we do then? I—I really don’t want…”

A lot went unsaid, but not unheard, and Ozpin didn’t miss the way his thoughts skipped tracks.

Mistral’s infamous reputation isn’t unmerited, Ozpin conceded, in a carefully modulated tone. But that doesn’t factor in the exaggeration that locals like using to scare tourists. Some of the wilder tales people hear tend to be hyperbole.

He knew Ozpin was trying to comfort him, which made it all the more patronizing because Oscar knew better. He stopped, rather abruptly, and the crowd parted around him like a well-accustomed current. “Have you ever actually been to Mistral?” he asked a tad incredulously.

Ignoring the hypocrisy in his choice of words, because it wasn’t like he’d ever been to Mistral prior to now, either. The line of questioning at least managed to elicit some surprise from Ozpin. Yes. On several occasions.

“And what did you look like when you came here?”

I’m afraid I don’t understand.

“I mean,” Oscar said, “did you look like them”—he pointed toward a group of patrons some yards ahead, all of whom donned robes of rich satin and were bejeweled in gaudy gems—“or did you look more like those people over there?” His gaze drifted toward two customers haggling with a merchant. Their tattered clothing and the scabbing on one guy’s arm were telling of which social class they belonged to.

He already knew the answer. Well, more like he knew how to find the answer, if Oscar was inclined to go rummaging through their shared subconscience until he stumbled across the right memory. They’d been together for a month, and he still had no idea what Ozpin had looked like when he was alive, and that wasn’t entirely by accident. For some reason, putting a face to the occupant in his mind felt weirdly intimate. It was easier to direct frustration at him when the voice in his head was just that: a bodiless voice not tied to any definable personhood.

Out of a perverted sort of decency, Ozpin never thrust that knowledge upon him. It was one of the few tacit boundaries he seemed unwilling to cross where their relationship was concerned.

Ozpin didn’t answer, so Oscar continued.

“You probably looked like a Huntsman, or you dressed well enough to be set apart from the riffraff, so no, you’ve never actually been to Mistral. People that look like them don’t get pickpocketed, or assaulted, or abducted,” he bit off. “You’ve probably never had to worry about someone trying to mug you, and then, when you don’t have anything worth stealing on you, getting beaten up because they feel like you somehow cheated them out of an easy profit. You don’t get to tell me not to be scared, Oz. Not when you’ve never had to be.”

Before, he might have relished shutting Ozpin up so soundly. The gratification was ruined somewhat by the unmistakable guilt that Ozpin felt, which synaptically bled into Oscar’s own emotions. Even more unnerving was the impression he got that Ozpin wanted to protest. The older man had known fear, Oscar knew, it some vague, undefinable way, and he had a good idea in regards to what.

He’d never gotten a straight answer from him about how he died. Unlike his own mind, which was an open wound graffitied with errant thoughts, Ozpin had mastered the art of safeguarding his memories and emotions. Every wayward thought had been neatly partitioned off, and whether that habit stemmed from a demand for privacy, or he was shielding some great and terrible secret, Oscar had yet to figure out. Questions were never ignored, only neatly deflected, either with articulate language or an appropriate segue to another topic. With Ozpin unwilling to relinquish that information, Oscar had learned how to startle snippets of the truth out of him.

He’d done that, once, on a day when he’d been plowing the fields, the sun blistering his skin and sending rivulets of sweat into the hem of his shirt. Ozpin hadn’t been fast enough to compose himself, and in that slither of a second Oscar perceived fire.

He got the uncomfortable impression that Ozpin had been burned alive.

The part of his mind that still doggedly clung to anger shoved aside anything that might resemble sympathy. He didn’t—couldn’t offer him any, not when he was already tired, homesick, and burdened by the unknown perils lurking ahead. Oscar didn’t have the energy to spare on pitying some omniscient, omnipotent ghost, and Ozpin was too patient to push for any recognition of their mutual plight.

The lift is just ahead. He sounded hesitant. Apologetic. Once we ascend the precipice it will be a fairly short walk to his office.

“Good,” Oscar said. The lift was kind of hard to miss—a large metal platform, anchored to the wall by a pair of deep tracks that scored the rock face. He stepped onto it and moved toward the terminal. A list of destinations flashed across the screen, and the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding left him as HAVEN ACADEMY – Level 1 appeared on the queue.

He tapped the screen.

RESTRICTED ACCESS – CLEARANCE REQUIRED

That swooping sensation in his gut returned with a vengeance.

I don’t understand. Confusion clouded his voice. Haven’s campus isn’t supposed to be off-limits to visitors.

“Maybe the terminal’s malfunctioning?” Even as the words left him Oscar knew how futile they were, especially when he pressed the location key and a second error message appeared. A dawning terror that just as easily could have been nausea spread throughout his midriff.

“Oz?” His question teetered on a squeak. “What’s going on?”

I don’t know. Behind the blank mask, Ozpin’s thoughts roiled like a storm. We need to speak with someone.

“Who?”

Preferably someone that lives in the city.

A few people scattered out of his way as Oscar backtracked, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to run up to the closest stall. “Excuse me? Miss?”

The shopkeep—a red panda Faunus—turned her attention from the ammunition she’d been casing to regard him with liquid amber eyes. “Can I help you?” she drawled.

“Why isn’t the lift working for Haven Academy?” Oscar asked. To their shared bemusement, the vendor gave him a ragged grimace.

“You thinking about enrolling? Sorry to say classes won’t be starting back up for another month. Not that we couldn’t use more Huntsmen,” she remarked. Her bottlebrush tail flicked out behind her.

“What?” His mind momentarily blanked. “No, I—I need to see someone up there. Why does the school require clearance?” Remembering what Ozpin had told him, Oscar added, “I thought the campus was available to the public.”

She spat at the ground, her expression turning momentarily contemptuous. “Haven’t you heard, kid? The Council’s imposed all these new ordinances on the city. Got one from the headmaster saying access to the school is restricted to faculty and students only, unless you’ve got a prearranged meeting with academy liaisons. Damn paranoid, if you ask me, with all these useless ‘heightened security’ measures.”

Try as Ozpin might to conceal it, Oscar didn’t miss the fleeting panic that seized him.

“So if you really wanna talk to someone there, you’ll need to either contact a Councilman—hah, good luck with that!—or find a teacher walking around the streets. You’ll prob’ly have just as much success teaching a Beowolf to play fetch, though. Most of the teachers aren’t even in the city right now.”

This time, Ozpin couldn’t disguise his horror, and it gripped the two of them in tandem. He’s left the Relic unguarded?

What Relic? Oscar asked.

Ozpin ignored him.

“Most of ’em have been dismissed, from what I hear.” She pulled her headscarf more securely over her forehead. “Off on sabbaticals or missions or maybe they’re unionizing, for all I know. It’s tanked my business, I’ll tell you that much. Two-thirds of my revenue were staff commissions.”

Oscar worked his mouth, and nothing came out.

“And it’s not like I’ll be seeing my imports any time soon, thanks to the Dust embargo.” Fingertips drummed an absent pattern against the countertop. “You all right, kid? Looking a bit pale.”

Oscar’s throat clicked as he swallowed. “I’m fine,” he answered, a little too quickly.

The vendor scrutinized him beneath the chiffon veil that shielded her eyes. “Chek-rohkah,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “There’s an apothecary down the road if you’re under the weather.”

“No, really, I think I’m okay,” Oscar lied. He turned to leave, and only stopped himself long enough to offer a brief inclination of his head. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

He waited until he found a nice, secluded spot away from the bulk of the crowd before he had his mental breakdown.

“Oh gods, oh gods. This can’t be happening.” Oscar tore his bag off his shoulders and unceremoniously threw it, and himself, onto the cobblestones. A gloved hand reached up to his face and scrubbed his cheeks. “What are we going to do?” he croaked. “We can’t just wait a month to see someone.”

I agree. For a disembodied voice, Ozpin was doing a good impression of pacing. His agitation was a force of nature. Haven Academy is not impregnable, and without its staff the school is vulnerable. What is he playing at?

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Oscar asked in mild disbelief. “Not, where are we going to stay for the next four weeks?”

Ozpin stilled. No, you’re quite right. My apologies. We’ll figure something out.

“How?” He let out a breathy, panicked sound, before he could snatch it back. “Unless you’ve got some other secret contact in Mistral we can hit up, then there’s no one here. You heard what she said: everyone is gone. And I don’t have the lien to pay for room and board at a tavern. Or food. I’ve only got the stuff I packed.”

Instinctively, Oscar reached for the rucksack by his side, longing to hold it to his chest and just bury his face in the familiar cloth. The hand brushed against empty space.

His breath caught in his chest.

“No—” He scrambled to his feet, face whipping back and forth as he scanned the roadside. “It was—it was right here. I just had it—”

But a single glance told him what he already knew: He’d let his guard down, and now, he was paying for it.

“No,” Oscar bleated, again, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say. “No…”

He expected a rebuke for being careless, or some sagely yet misplaced advice offered in lieu of anything constructive. Ozpin spoke, and it was the gentlest he’d heard him sound yet. I’m so sorry, Oscar.

For a long moment Oscar numbly stared. The faces in the distant crowd passed him, a blurred kaleidoscope of featureless colors and shapes, and the only thing he could hear was his pulse beating a staccato rhythm in his eardrums. Around him, the world dissolved into meaningless backdrop.

“All of my things,” he said. The words came out as a hoarse whisper. “My clothes, my bedroll, the provisions from home. Stolen. Gone.” In retrospect, a small part of him would be grateful he hadn’t thought to pack anything with more monetary value, or that he’d talked himself out of bringing irreplaceable keepsakes from home. There was a sudden, lurching sensation in his navel, like he’d been sucker-punched. His arm shook.

Whatever Ozpin had been about to say next, he never got the chance to tell him before Oscar snatched up an empty whiskey bottle from the ground. He put as much feeling as he could into the movement, and lobbed it against the mountainside. Glass shards ricocheted off the stone and skated across the cobblestone.

“Gods damn it!” Panic and hysteria and rage welled up like bile in his throat. Oscar made an inarticulate sound as he grabbed a second bottle and pitched it into the rock. It shattered. “I’m hundreds of miles from home and trapped in a city where I could get stabbed or abducted because I’ll have to sleep on a bench! And for what? Just so I can get turned away at the doorstep by some guy I’ve never met, all because the voice in my head told me to!”

Ozpin was dutifully silent as he rode out the worst of the tantrum. He waited until Oscar was sitting on the ground again, knees drawn up to his chest and his patchwork rag pressed against his mouth to smother the dry sobs he so badly wanted to make. (He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t. Not here.) A dull, burning ache made itself present at the back of his throat.

“…I’m sorry I said that,” he mumbled, when he was sure he could talk again without saying something stupid. “I just—I needed to get that out of my system, I think.”

Ozpin sighed, and it was telling how the gesture seemed self-directed. The noise had a worn-parchment quality to it. I understand, Oscar. You have nothing to apologize for.

Oscar glanced up at the sky. A dull pink glow was receding over the horizon, replaced by the first few glinting stars come to herald the night.

You’re so young, Ozpin murmured. And it’s been…a long time since I went through this same process. Age is inconvenient; it’s allowed me to forget the extent of the sacrifices involved.

The headmaster’s presence brushed against his own. Thoughts and memories and emotions dammed behind a wall that should have ruptured long ago, still holding against the inevitable cascade. There was a vain comfort being offered to him, Oscar realized, when no other forms were available. Slowly, he uncoiled, forcing the muscles in his body to untense, his breaths coming in steadier intakes than the gulping ones from before. It took him a moment to realize that Ozpin was gently coaxing him through the motions.

You don’t need to be stressed any more than you currently are, he said, by way of explanation. I know I’ve asked too much of you as it is, but I need you to keep walking. Give me some time to reconsider our options, until I have a solution for our current predicament. At the least, long enough to think of how we can procure accommodations.

Just the thought of not having to sleep outside was enough to motivate him. Unsteadily, Oscar rose.

“Is there…” He cleared his throat. “Is there somewhere you want me to go, specifically?”

The act itself is enough. Though it would be in our best interest to stay on the higher levels. When Oscar stiffened, Ozpin hurriedly reassured, Criminal activity is greater at the base of the city. Kidnapping requires more than just a degree of stealth, and none would dare attempt it on the upper ramparts.

This time, there was a surety to Ozpin’s words, and sheer exhaustion had him blindly leaning against what trust was presented. He was too tired to argue.

And so Oscar trudged through the thinning crowds, his gaze wandering aimlessly between the sights. Ornamental lanterns smoldered overhead, their orange glow a dim comfort as they pooled molten light over the paths. Mistral had a night life of its own: various clubs had opened their doors to entice customers with heavy percussive music and the promise of drinks. He saw a fresh round of merchants advertising goods, including a perfume stand that he stopped at long enough to acquire a conditioned hatred of the heady fragrance. One place he walked past had a group of people loitering outside, scantily clad and wearing various degrees of nothing. An onlooker catcalled, and he found an excuse to be literally anywhere else.

“Are brothels even legal?” Oscar asked, when he was confident he’d put at least a mile between them.

The question seemed to startle Ozpin out of whatever reverie he’d lapsed into. It’s less a matter of legality, and more what people are comfortable with trying to get away with, he answered, in a tone cool with censure.

Huh. That was interesting.

Oscar filed that reaction away for later. His attention turned to a nearby stall, where cords of herbed chicken hung from the rafters. Someone was grilling, and the overpowering smoke-smell of charcoal and spices had him remembering that oh, yeah, he didn’t have food anymore. What a great time to realize his last meal had been on the train hours ago.

To his embarrassment, his stomach growled.

“…What’s your opinion on stealing?” Oscar inquired, in what he hoped passed for an offhand tone.

Whatever answer Ozpin had been about to give, it petered off. Intrigued, Oscar scanned the area, and saw what had distracted him: Mistrali pilots. The pair still had their aviation uniforms on, but going by the rate they were tossing back shots, they’d likely just finished their shift.

“—patrol by the defunct colonies,” the one was telling the vendor. He ran a hand through cropped dun hair. “It’s been silent out there for weeks. Which don’t get me wrong, if it’s a toss-up between dick all or strafing Grimm packs with turret fire, you know I’m gonna pick the one where my corpse doesn’t get mailed home to my kids in a body bag. But you need action to enliven things from time to time. Shit gets dull out there fast.”

“That’s not the way I hear it.” The merchant fished out a bottle from beneath the counter. “Daiyu said your last mission was busy.”

The other pilot shrugged. “‘Busy’ is one way of looking at it,” he agreed. “We missed most of the action. Though frankly I’m kind of glad we did. Whatever those Huntsmen killed, it was nightmare fuel.”

Ozpin’s interest sharpened.

The merchant shuffled a stack of lien. “Don’t suppose you’re feeling charitable?” they asked. “I’m dead for gossip around here.”

To which the first pilot raised his glass. “Only if the charity’s mutual.” He grinned.

“Spoken like a true philanthropist.” The merchant tipped the contents of a large fizzing bottle into their cups. It frothed over the rim and a little sloshed onto the counter. “So,” they said. “Any casualties?”

“One of the guys we had to evac out.” The second pilot swished the liquid around in his glass. “Something envenomed him, don’t know what. When we picked him up the wound was infected. By the time we got back to the hospital, the onboard field medics had to treat him for anaphylaxis twice. And this one kid was just not letting go of him. Her team had to pry her off before they could get him into surgery.”

The merchant ducked their head. “Do you know if he made it?”

“Thankfully, yes. ER had the antivenom he needed. The rest of the Huntsmen were fine. A few broken Auras, but in their line of work that’s just an occupational hazard.”

“Damn straight,” the first pilot chipped in. “I’m kinda hoping they stick around. Dunno if you’ve noticed, but there’s a bit of a shortage around here when it comes to professional killers.”

“There are plenty of professional killers on the lower levels. Or do they not count anymore?” the merchant asked, dry as Dust.

“Professional killers that specialize in Grimm, then,” he amended. “You should’ve seen them. Well, maybe you will. It’s only been a few days, they probably haven’t left Mistral yet. But hell, they were armed to the teeth! The one girl had some sort of modified scythe.”

Oscar was nearly cowed by the powerful surge of recognition that came from Ozpin. Images too fast to see flitted through his mind, and the bits he was able to make out—black wings, silver eyes, rose petals—didn’t make any sense to him.

“…Oz?” Oscar cautiously said the name aloud.

There’s a bar, Ozpin said, on Jade Street called Pour Decisions. We need to go there. Now.

He was still a bit disoriented from the mental highlights reel Oz had just screened for him. Oscar reached up to knead at his temples. “Okay, but why?”

Because there’s a high likelihood we’ll find one of my colleagues there.

Oscar picked up speed, his fatigue instantly forgotten. “You’re sure?”

It’s his favorite bar in Mistral. At this time of night, I can’t imagine where else he would be.

Well, if that didn’t speak volumes of Ozpin’s standards in friends.

Try to reserve your judgment for when you meet him. The chastisement lacked any real disapproval though. Ozpin seemed too—what, excited?—to bother with keeping up a lecturing front.

Oscar wanted to ask more questions, but his own flutteriness had returned. Time did this funny little skip, where he was running up stone steps one second, and the next, he stood in front of a mahogany door.

His name is Qrow Branwen, Ozpin told him. If I’m not mistaken, he’s in possession of my—our—weapon.

Oscar blinked. “I have a weapon?” he repeated.

You do. Ozpin sounded pleased. In time and with experience, you’ll be able to use it.

He couldn’t really find fault with that, for once. Oscar reached to open the door, only to pause mid-motion.

Oscar? Is something wrong?

“This is really happening, isn’t it?” Oscar spoke with a careful slowness. “When I walk through this door, everything changes. I don’t get to turn back.”

It wasn’t a question.

No, I’m afraid not. The die is cast, as they say.

“Is it wrong that I’m still kind of scared?” There. The words were out, before he could take them back.

To his surprise, he felt a flash of warmth. When Ozpin answered him, his voice had evened out into his usual, vaguely-amused lilt.

If you weren’t the slightest bit scared, I’d say you were insane.

[teltoadstool]

Sorry for not posting for so long. There was no real reason, other than the fact that I just didn’t feel like it. This household is made up of four supernatural friends and their government handler, (who happens to know how to use magic, but that’s got nothing to do with not being human, right?). They live in Isla Paradiso in one of the EA houseboats. I’m actually looking for a better house, but I haven’t had any luck. Mostly because it has to be on the water somehow. They’re going to university. Well, not their handler. He already has an degree. This is incredibly long, so don’t say I didn’t warn ya! :P I think before I place a ‘read more’, I’m going to state their species. Going clockwise from the top right corner we have a plantsim, a merman, a werewolf, and a vampire. 

The order this time is for their descriptions to make the most sense, so we’re starting with the werewolf in the lower left corner. His name is Elliot Lane. He hates the name, so he usually only answers to Wolf. Although he has always been werewolf, the rich family he ran away from weren’t. Their handler, Oscar, who had to investigate his charges’ origins, will only say that his origins were scandalous. Wolf doesn’t really care. He is only thankful for his wolf form, after all it was incredibly helpful when he ran away at fifteen. Wolf is very possessive of everything he has, which weirdly includes his friends. They aren’t allowed to have friends that he hasn’t chosen to be his friend.They put up with this, because Wolf protects them. Despite this, everyone wants to be his friend or girlfriend. He tends to take advantage of his new ‘friends’, but he really doesn’t want to have anything to do with romance. He knows how to make people do what he wants, and is very good at knowing just how to talk to someone. He is studying physical education at university, but that’s mostly because his friends were going and he didn’t want to be left with Oscar. His traits are: Mean-Spirited, Charismatic, Athletic, Rebellious, Brave, Irresistible, and Hot Headed.

Next is the vampire in the lower right corner. His name is Thaddeus Bradley, although he usually goes by Bat. He was born an odd kind of mutant human. Oscar investigated and found that Bat’s mother was a scientist that was working with vampire bat dna. Needless to say, an accident happened while she was pregnant. His mother died when he was ten, leaving him alone since his father had abandoned his mother and him when Bat was born, because he blamed Bat’s mother for Bat’s mutation. The government had no idea Bat existed, since his mother kept him a secret, so Bat was left to fend for himself. Unfortunately distant relatives inherited the house he was living in, so he ended up on the streets. Bat lived on the streets for awhile, but didn’t have the strength to feed off of random passersby. He would have starved, but Wolf found him and decided that Bat was going to be his friend, so assisted in getting blood for him. Bat met Wolf when Wolf was sixteen, and is Wolf’s first and closest friend. He loves messing around with machines, so he is studying for a Technology degree. He’s very good at guessing what kind of person a person is, so the others always ask him what his opinion of people is. Random fact: Despite the fact that his mutation is comes from bats, most people think he’s some kind of wolf-man at first sight.  His traits are: Over-Emotional, Handy, Perceptive, Eccentric, and Friendly. 

Corey North is the plantsim in the upper left corner. Wolf saved Corey after the forest where he was living was sprayed with some kind of poison, which left Corey unconscious. The next day immediately after Corey came to, he ran to find a dirt mound and buried himself in it. He didn’t emerge for a couple weeks, which left Wolf and Bat worried about his well being, so Bat went over to him and just started rambling. Eventually Corey emerged to tell him to shut up. Having nowhere to go, Corey stayed with the strange duo, and started his long search for art supplies. He hates being around people, and tends to get angry if anyone talks to him. Most of the time he’s outside painting or drawing, which he hates to be interrupted when doing either. Corey’s going to get a fine arts degree.  His traits are: Brave, Loner, Loves the Outdoors, Artistic, and Hot-Headed. 

Caiden Moss, the merman in the upper right corner, was part of a very rich and influential family under the ocean. He’s now on land against his will. Oscar has questioned Caiden many times about this, but can never get a straight answer. In Oscar’s opinion, Caiden was either exiled or cursed, but most likely exiled, since Caiden still has his merman tail. Caiden washed ashore unconscious and hurt. The others rescued him from the beach and nursed him back to health, because Wolf, who was the one that found Caiden, had taken a shine to Caiden. Caiden at first really doesn’t like living with these ‘street urchins’, but they saved him, and to tell the truth he couldn’t live on his own. Caiden was the last to join the, besides Oscar, so he isn’t as close to the others as the others are to each other. Caiden hates being alone and is constantly looking for someone to talk to. Unfortunately that usually backfires tremendously, due to Caiden’s uppity attitude. It doesn’t help that Caiden’s a genus, and uses his knowledge against them. They get back at him by making fun of his clumsiness. Technically he’s only clumsy on land, but he can’t seem to get this argument to stop the teasing. He’s going to university for a science and medicine degree. His traits are: Social Butterfly, Clumsy, Genus, Proper, and Snob. 

Oscar Briggs is the one in the bottom picture. He works for a government organisation trying to understand the recently revealed supernatural population. He was assigned to this group of supernatural creatures as their caretaker. Oscar has the same level of authority over them that a parent has over their children. He doesn’t like kids much, which as everyone knows includes young adults, and he’s usually in a bad mood, but he warms up to his charges... eventually. Oscar isn’t scared of any supernatural being. He’s usually just annoyed at any show of power. At first the kids didn’t know about his magical abilities, but they found out after he used them to protect Caiden from Monster Hunters. His charges knowing allows him to use his powers to discipline them, but it also means they have some dirt on him, which they can tell the Organisation, which really wouldn’t be a good thing for Oscar. Oscar definitely isn’t stupid in any way. He’s very good at reading his charges and figuring out their secret terms. He also had no trouble collecting the information about their pasts, which he did without the parties involved knowing.  His traits are: Dislikes Children, Grumpy, Perceptive, Brave, and Genus. 

[multiplefandomfics]

Grimes sisters chapter 10

And here we go again. enjoy! and feedback is always appreciated.

Pairings: Shane x Fabienne; Daryl x Alex

Warnings: drama, angst, kidnapping, blood

Words: 2409

Rick POV

We had just arrived home and I had talked everyone through what had happened as I looked around to see if there was anything wrong with the fence somewhere. There were a few walkers standing around trying to get inside but there was one of them who seemed suspicious. But wait… that wasn’t a walker. It was a woman… she was looking at me intently. She couldn’t scream or the walkers would have attacked her. I stepped closer to the fence and saw she was bloody and a lot of it seemed to be hers because in that moment she collapsed outside. I screamed for someone to open the gate and stormed to her side. I carried her into the cell block. “Who’s she?” Glenn asked confused. But I didn’t have the time to tell him she needed a doctor. “Get Hershel!” I commanded him as I laid her down on a blanket. I looked her over for scratch or bite marks but couldn’t find any only a gunshot wound. As she came to herself she blinked at me confused but didn’t say a word. “We gotta help you. You need a doctor and we have one.” I explained to her as Hershel came in on his crutches. He took a closer look at her wound and decided she needed some stitches and a bandage and she should have been fine. I observed her carefully and after Hershel had left I tried to talk to her a bit. I needed to know where she came from and how she had found us. “What’s your name and where have you come from?” but she just stared at me weary. Wonderful!

After a while I gave up but the moment I wanted to close and lock the gate to our cell block she started to talk. “I was shot by a douchebag from a community called Woodbury.. only because I fled. They’re terrible people there. They didn’t want me, or my friend who was with me when they brought us there, to leave.” she began. I looked at her interested. I mean our family was trapped there too so every bit of information was valuable to us. “A creep who calls himself the governor is running the place. He is not really sober. My friend stayed behind cause she didn’t see what was going on in that place. And a few days ago they brought two new ones. A muscular man with broad shoulders and a smaller woman with brown hair and an attitude.” that sounded a lot like Daryl and Alex. “Could you show us a way in?” I asked her to which she nodded. “She’s gotta rest now.” Hershel informed me. Suddenly Shane walked in “Who is this?” he asked. “She knows where Alex and Daryl are held. Well I think it is them.” I explained to him. I was baffled when there was no resistance coming from him. If the woman showed us how we got in and out without trouble then we’d have a damn good chance to get them back. I had a new sliver of hope.

Fabienne POV

Rick had found this woman in front of our fence today and we had to patch her up. She had probably given us the first real trace to follow and she would help us get in and out of Woodbury to save Alex and Daryl. But we couldn’t go that day it was almost dark already and that was too risky. Plus the woman we still didn’t know the name of needed rest. Doctor Hershel’s orders! So we wanted to start our rescue mission the next day.

At dinner my eyes constantly traveled over to Shane. He had been so worried today when he had pulled me back from doing something stupid I probably would have regretted. So he still seemed to care for me. Had a nice ring to it. I was so confused by everything. I wished we maybe would have had another chance to talk sometime when all of this had settled a bit more. Even if it would have gotten hard to convince Rick that Shane wasn’t the asshole Rick made him out to be. But I was sure gonna try. “Fabienne? Would you come outside with me again?” Rick ripped me out of my thoughts. I nodded and got up. I was a little annoyed because I thought it was to talk about the old topic Shane again but I didn’t wanna risk a scene in the middle of everyone. It had already gone dark outside “what’s up?” I asked weary. “I just needed some air and didn’t wanna go alone. Thought you’d appreciate the fresh air as well. We are gonna get Daryl and Alex back tomorrow. Everything is gonna be fine alright?” he said reassuringly. So he had noticed that I was very nervous about all this. I hugged him and buried my head in his shoulder. I was so happy to have him. It was the worst time when we thought him dead. “Wanna go back inside.”he asked me. “You can go. I’ll be right behind you.” I answered a little in thought.  I needed the silence to clear my head. It was about 30 minutes later when I started to pull my cardigan closer to my body because of the cold creeping up on me. That was my cue to get back to my cell and have a good nights sleep.

The next morning we met at our cars. We wanted to drive one part of the way and the other we were  gonna walk to not raise any unwanted attention. Rick had been able to get her name out of the woman. Michonne. It was a unique name but also very beautiful I thought. Rick, Michonne, Shane and I were driving in one car and Maggie, Glenn and Oscar in the second one. With Shane and me in the backseat there was this very uncomfortable silence that hung between us like a curtain. It was almost suffocating. And I hated every minute of it. It hadn’t been like that before and the thought that I had made it worse was driving me nuts. Just to say something to break the silence I asked “How’s your foot doing?” at that he looked at me confused. “’s alright.” he mumbled. This morning I had noticed him still limping a little so he still had to be in some pain. Hershel had shown me a few days before how to bandage a sprained ankle to give it more stability. After a while we made a short break to stretch our legs and talk everything through again. Shane sat down on the loading area of the open trunk. I took a bandage out of my bag “Gimme your foot.” I demanded. “No why I’m fine.” he replied. I repeated myself emphatically. He slipped off his shoe reluctantly and I set his leg on mine. His foot was still swollen and slightly blue but turning yellow already. “You should really give your foot some rest over the next few days okay?” I suggested before I started bandaging it. “Alright. Done!” I smiled at him and helped him into his shoe. “Thanks.” he said shortly. This seemed to have been the icebreaker. For the next step I took all my courage and gave him a small kiss on his cheek before I climbed back into the car. I didn’t even catch his reaction. He needed to know I still had feelings and that listening to my brother was the wrong decision. You can’t turn off feelings!

The car rumbled to life and I needed to turn my focus completely on rescuing Alex and Daryl. After we kept on going by foot it wasn’t long before we reached the fortified town. Michonne went up front to show us a small opening we could slip through. Unnoticed we got inside and stood soon in some kind of tunnel system. We needed to be quick and I hoped that no one was gonna see us.

Alex POV

The governor and his companion entered the room I was bound to a chair in. “Do you wanna tell us where the rest of your people are?” he asked emphatically and showed me the knife in his hand. But I was not gonna break that easily. Still I had to hold back a few tears threatening to spill. I was a little afraid. What really shocked me was when he suddenly grabbed my hair rudely and held the knife to my throat. “Your friend over there… he didn’t wanna talk. But eventually one of you is gonna spill the beans.” he continued. He pressed the blade harder against my skin and it cut through just the tiniest bit but it stung like hell and I could feel a drop of blood running down and into my cleavage. I hissed loudly. “Take yer hands off her!” I heard it shouting from behind the half wall in the room. It was Daryl. Of course this sicko was gonna let him listen in on my agony. Now it was completely over with my willpower not to cry. He put the knife to my cheek next and slit through the sensitive tissue. It made me scream out loud. “Oh how I like it when a woman screams for me.” the governor laughed manically. Again I could hear Daryl shout something but I didn’t get what this time. As the bastard put the knife against my other cheek I finally caved. I couldn’t take it anymore. I was afraid what he was gonna slice through next. “Okay ,Okay. We have set up camp in a prison close by.” I confessed under tears. Then I yelled over to Daryl: “I’m sorry Daryl. I couldn’t take it.” “It’s fine baby. You’re strong.” he called back to me. That gave me the feeling of safety back just for a second until the governor started to talk again. “and that prison you freed of the walkers all on your own? Just the few of you? Impressive.”

Suddenly I heard shots outside the door. The guard on our side just fell to the floor. Merle and the governor pulled their guns out of their holsters ready to shoot whoever came through the door. A second later the whole room was full of smoke what made me cough pathetically but the two of them vanished without cutting me loose. I had no idea what was going on when two silhouettes suddenly stepped out of the cloud of smoke “Alex!” one of them shouted and I recognized the voice as the one of my brother. The other man was Shane undoubtedly. They had found me! “Daryl!” I mumbled the smoke getting to my head. “We got him already. let’s go!” Rick said. We made our way through the tunnels and sometimes we even heard a few shots and some bullets whizzed by. When we finally made it outside I was too tired to walk so Rick carried me the rest of the way into the safety of the forest. When we thought we were safe Rick carefully laid me down on the soft floor. “You okay?” he asked me worriedly. I nodded too weak to speak. I looked around and saw Fabi storming toward me. I was actually looking for Daryl who I finally spotted holding an obviously injured shoulder. What was wrong with him? He was bleeding. “Daryl you’re hurt.” I exclaimed. “No’in bad just a shot wound.” he mumbled a little embarrassed. “We gotta get back to the cars or they’re gonna find us soon.” Rick hurried us. Rick was just about to heave me up again when Shane stopped him to take me. So I held onto Shane for the rest of the way to the cars. Suddenly I remembered what I had told this governor guy. “Rick I told him where we are.” I was so ashamed that I wasn’t able to hold on just a few minutes longer. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t.” I was already starting to tear up again. “He had this knife to my throat.” I kept going. “Shh it’s okay. Everyone would have caved at that.” he tried to calm me. Finally in the car my eyes went droopy after only a a few minutes and I only awoke in my cell much later. “Where’s Daryl?” I asked afraid. My first thought had gone to him. “Hershel is treating his shoulder.” Fabienne said who was sitting at my bedside. Together we went over to him as Hershel was disinfecting the wound properly. “How r u feelin’” I asked him slightly slurred and despite the situation a little drooling by his naked upper body. He put up the tiniest of smiles “I ain’t killed that easy by nothin’ sweetheart.” the stated boldly. After Hershel had finished I jumped into his arms and pressed him to my chest. I was so happy that they had found us when they did. This guy, the governor he was a terrible person. “Rick?” I asked over my shoulder and he came around the corner. “They got Andrea.” I told him and immediately the new girl interrupted me”She wanted to stay there. It was her choice.” Who was she anyways? “That’s Michonne by the way. She was held captive in Woodbury as well and Andrea was her companion for a while.” he cleared things up. I just looked at her in disbelieve. Andrea had wanted to stay there? That was not the Andrea I knew. But we all had changed. By then I was sitting next to Daryl almost on his lap with my hand on his thigh. Nobody seemed to notice. Neither did I it was almost like a reflex. I looked at the others sitting and standing around. “We have to keep watch also during the night now. He knows where we are he could attack any time.” Rick suggested. He was right and I felt terrible for telling them. But what was I supposed to do? I knew no one was angry at me but myself. “I’m gonna take the first night shift.” I butted in immediately. “No you and Daryl are gonna get some rest tonight.” Rick said harshly. Alright but then the next!

[gretagerwigarchive]

Greta Gerwig on Lola Versus, Awkward Sex Scenes, and Her Anxiety Working with Woody Allen

by Julie Miller, June 7, 2012.

source: https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2012/06/greta-gerwig-lola-versus-interview-woody-allen-to-rome-with-love

Last month, we met with Greta Gerwig in Los Angeles, where the brainy Barnard College alumna told us about her first acting memory, her history of writing surprisingly violent plays, and how her neuroses meshed with Woody Allen’s on the set of To Rome with Love.

Julie Miller: It’s hard to find a movie with a really satisfying ending these days, but I walked out of Lola Versus feeling like it ended on the perfect note.

Greta Gerwig: Oh good. I felt the same way when I read the script. I remember feeling really pumped when I realized that it was going to end the way it does. I didn’t think that Fox Searchlight would be making a movie that ended like this, but it’s awesome that they did.

How long have you been acting, and what is your earliest acting memory?

I’ve been acting since I was a kid. My first acting memory was in a children’s version of Peter Pan when I was six or seven and I didn’t get one of the main speaking parts. I was very annoyed by that and had memorized everyone’s lines, so if they didn’t say their lines immediately onstage, I would step up and say their lines. They had to rein me in because I was really going to speak over everybody. Then, when I was 10, Sacramento [where Gerwig grew up] had a theater group that did Shakespeare in the Park in the summer. I was one of the fairies in one of Shakespeare’s lesser-known plays, The Merry Wives of Windsor. I had one line: “Here!” But I got to hang out with older people who were really cool. I did tons of musical theater and plays when I was in high school. Then in college I started writing plays and acted in a lot of plays and a lot of sketch comedy.

In the plays that you wrote, did you find that you kept returning to the same themes?

I always wrote really weird, violent plays! They were always kind of absurdist, too. I wrote a play about a woman and her husband and their child and they were murdering this elephant that was in the kitchen. But they didn’t know what to do with it because they didn’t know how it got in there. And they come all covered in blood all the time. I wrote a play about a girl who has just killed her mother accidentally with a frying pan and she goes to the library to frame another woman. I don’t know why, but they were all kind of violent, weird violent plays. Then I wrote another play about a guy who was running a historical-re-creation fort in Sacramento and he was raping all of the historical re-creaters.

Should we be concerned?

I don’t know. None of these things have ever been performed in an official capacity. They’ve been workshopped, though. Oh, I wrote another play about Newton and Kant as 14-year-old boys, and they ended up raping someone, too. It’s horrible.

What does it all mean? Where did these ideas come from?

I don’t know what it all means! I never really explored it.

Well, there is no chance that I am going to think of an elegant transition here. So fast-forward to 2012, past your dark plays, and you are starring in Lola Versus. Your character is going through this difficult, ugly transitional period of self-discovery after a bad breakup. Did you have any vanity concerns when you decided to take this role?

So much vanity. I still have so much vanity, it’s kind of embarrassing. It’s funny, though—I kind of have a dual thing where I can be intensely vain and regret doing something but when I’m on set, I don’t even think about it. Later, though, I get mad and say to myself, “What was I thinking?! I should have tried to look nicer! And seem like I am not as crazy as that.” It’s weird, though—it’s like the regret part of my brain turns off when I am acting. It only turns on when I watch it and think, Ugh, no.

Do you have any superstitions—anything that you do before your first day on the set of a new film?

I have all kinds of weird superstitions, but they are all kind of specific to the project. It’s all an exaggerated version of my internal rules for each character. I have rules about what kind of music they listen to, the way they behave, what they’re reading, what they like. I kind of avoid or cherry-pick things—I try to control my experiences while I’m making a film. It’s some version of, whenever I’m on an airplane and I’m reading a book, and it has any kind of mention of death in it, I will stop reading it. I cannot read it, because I feel like it is going to curse the plane. It’s all craziness and it’s just nuts.

A lot of people have superstitions, though!

I don’t know. I never feel like I do enough or work hard enough, but that’s the thing about acting—you work and you try to prepare for it, and eventually you just have to do it. You’re never really ready.

You share one of the most disturbing sex scenes that I’ve seen recently, with Ebon Moss-Bachrach. Is there a secret to an awkward sex scene?

I’m just not that self-conscious about it when I’m doing it. I can really feel the air being sucked out of the room in an awkward moment and I know that this is going to make everyone really uncomfortable. I guess I have a sense of what that is.

So it’s not as difficult for you to film a scene that is so difficult to watch?

No, I don’t mind those scenes, really. I’ve done a lot worse! I’m pretty open-minded at this point about stuff like that.

I read an interview in which the journalist described you as “sweetly neurotic”, which made me wonder—how well did you and Woody Allen get along on the set of To Rome with Love? Did you find that your personalities meshed?

I don’t know. I think neurotic people have trouble meshing with each other because they are both too worried that the other person’s not meshing with them. I wanted to mesh with him, but I think I was too anxious the whole time.

Do you remember any funny things that happened on set?

There were lots of funny things that happened, but I would say, more than anything, that there was a moment when we were filming when I looked around and saw Ellen Page, Alec Baldwin, Jesse Eisenberg, and Woody Allen came up to direct us. And I remember thinking that everybody here has been nominated for an Oscar. It was just one of those pinch-yourself moments where maybe you don’t feel like you belong.