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voidendron · 5 years ago

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Deep Blue Sea: Ch. 16

Chapter 16: Abandoned Subnautica/JSE Egos Crossover

(( note: I haven’t played/watched gameplay for Below Zero yet, so please don’t spoil anything for me! Things from this fic might retcon stuff that happens in it, and I apologize if they do, but I don’t want to spoil any more of the game for myself than what already has been ‘til I can play the whole thing through myself ))

Warnings: Swearing Characters: Marvin the Magnificent, Jameson Jackson, Dr. Schneeplestein, Chase Brody, Jackieboy Man POV: Marvin the Magnificent

Silence.

Pale Faces.

Keen’s words hung in the air between them.

“…We need to help him.” Jackie’s voice startled the rest of them from their shocked trance.

Marvin swallowed. Shook his head. Oh, hell no. “Are you insane?!” He ran his hands through his hair with a shaky breath. “There’s somethin’ here! We need to get off this island!”

“I am not putting my life on the line for someone else,” the doctor growled.

Jameson signed something—Marvin had no idea what it was, but his frantic nodding had him figuring that the chef agreed with them.

“He’s in danger!” the security guard insisted. “The recording was recent—he could still be alive!”

“Jackie’s right.”

Marvin’s head whipped toward Chase when he agreed. “No. No, no, no. He’d been so damn calm in his other messages, and how he’s panicking! You really want to run into whatever made Keen panic?!”

Chase frowned. “It’s a small island. How bad could it be?”

Their three-against-two changed when Jameson ducked his head, then offered an agreeing nod. He was signing again—Marvin would really need to learn those, wouldn’t he?—and the other two so…hellbent on saving Keen sagged with relief.

“Really no other way to change your minds?” the entertainer asked.

“We’ve gotta find Keen,” Jackie repeated, “and hopefully Yu, too. There were only two of ‘em, there’s five of us.”

“Yeah!” Chase was tucking his flippers and Seaglide near some…ferns? was that what they were?

“And if something does come after us?” Marvin challenged, gesturing harshly first at the doctor, then Jameson. “Doc’s ankle is fuckin’ shredded and James’s got broken ribs. They’d be picked off easy.”

“Anything attacks either of them—any of us—” Jackie hoisted up his broken flare in threat; he didn’t have to say any more than that.

Marvin and Henrik glanced at each other. For once, it seemed like they were both on the same page: They did not want to meet whatever had gone after Keen. Did the other three just not understand self-preservation? God…

He tossed his flippers near where the others were putting theirs. His air tank and Seaglide followed, but he was far more careful not to throw those down.

Seeing Henrik’s flippers actually laying with everyone else’s made him double-take. Marvin had always thought he had big feet. Definitely made sense why both of them had needed more materials than the original dive suit blueprint had called for.

Deep breath. The others were leaving the beach, leaving the two of them behind. Well, Marvin would much rather stick with the group than be left alone on the island.

“Come on,” he grumbled. He really wished they’d brought survival knives. He’d feel a little better if he could at least defend himself. “So!” he called ahead—both Chase and Jackie glanced back at him. “Any plan for what we’re gonna do if we find whatever went after them?”

“Depends on what it is, I guess.” Chase shrugged; he was walking backwards now.

Marvin just frowned and shook his head, watched the path ahead of them.

Wait.

…Path?

Henrik was eyeing it, too.

“Please tell me you’re thinking the same thing.”

“Something has traveled this same route for a long while, yes.”

They were following the path, and Marvin couldn’t help the unease settling into his gut. The feeling only amplified when they came across an old habitat and its overgrown garden.

Glances cast around, and Jackie was the first to approach the settlement.

It looked abandoned. Falling apart. Broken windows.

It had been there a long time.

“…I don’t think we’re the first to get stranded here,” Jackie said, voice soft.

Then, he was suddenly yelping; Marvin and the others jumped and scrambled away. From the way Marvin saw it, he was acting solely on instinct when he swung his flare and the little ankle-biter of a creature went flying.

When he blinked at it, Marvin actually found it in himself to snort. Was that thing some kind of…crab?

“Scared the hell outta me,” Jackie muttered, “but there’s no way that’s what had Keen panicked.”

“Unless he got swarmed?” Marvin suggested.

“Maybe..? I’m don’t know…”

Chase cleared his throat, pointing to the habitat. “They had to have made it off the planet, right?” Chase was inching forward, toward the multipurpose room’s shattered window. It looked like a mudslide had caused it. “I mean, it’s clearly been abandoned a long time.”

Marvin’s eyes were scanning the old habitat. He didn’t like this.

“Yo, check this thing out!”

When Chase tried bolting in through the broken window, Marvin grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him back. “That window’s broken. You really want to step on glass with bare feet?”

“But look!”

Marvin’s gaze followed his pointing finger. There was…something, in the room. Glowing. It didn’t look like anything he’d ever seen before. “What is that thing..?”

“I mean. It looks like the mud’s covered all the glass?”

When Marvin’s grip slackened, he must have taken that as a go-ahead and ran into the room. He was careful while climbing through the window not to cut himself on any of the glass that still remained, and when he came back he had something in each hand.

“There was a data log, too. Also, this thing’s surprisingly light? Like…what is it?”

He gave the data log to Jackie to put in his PDA, then set the glowing whatever-it-was on the ground between all of them.

“Is like a tablet,” Henrik said.

“Yeah,” Chase agreed, “but it doesn’t look human.”

It seemed Marvin and Henrik had the same idea when they both reached for their scanners. Marvin’s scan finished first, and everyone’s PDAs chirped as the data was transmitted to all of them. When he read the information, he only shook his head.

“I really doubt it’s human. Estimated to being abandoned here hundreds-to-thousands of years ago? Yeah, definitely not ours.”

“Alien technology?” Henrik winced as he knelt down to pick it up, ran his fingers over the glowing purple symbol. “What were these people doing with it?”

“Well, from the sounds of it,” Jackie said—another chirp as the data log transferred from his device to the rest of theirs, “—they found it, and also had no idea what it was.”

“They? How many?”

“I count four people in the recording. Three men and a woman, but I’m relying on the PDA translating for me ‘cause they’re definitely not speaking English.”

Marvin opened the new file on his own device, listened for a moment, then shut it off to read over the translation instead. “Sounds like they were from a Mongolian settlement. I don’t speak it, but I’ve performed for one a few times.”

Four people had lived in this now-abandoned habitat: Two Torgals (probably related, he figured), Sepse, Maida. Where had they gone..?

When Chase and Jackie explored the rest of the habitat and came back with a few more data logs, it looked like where they’d gone was deeper. Much, much, deeper.

Apparently they were part of Torgal Corporation—no wonder the names were familiar. Paul was the head of the company and had gone missing about ten years ago. It hadn’t been the same since.

…Ten years ago. God. They’d never made it off the planet, had they? Would that be their fate, too? He could feel his stomach twisting.

Bart was Paul’s son and heir to the company, Marguerit Maid a hired mercenary, and Antony Sepse a microbiologist.

He could see it in the pale faces of his comrades they all feared the same fate, and it was Chase to break their silence.

“I…I kinda doubt we’re in the mood now, but I see two more habitats.” He outstretched an arm, pointing. “There, and there.” Perched oh so precariously at the tops of two mountain peaks were, sure enough, two more habitats clear even through the fog that seemed to have lifted some. “C’mon. We can still try findin’ Keen and Yu. Who knows. Maybe we’ll have better luck than that group did.”

Marvin closed his eyes and took a slow, steadying breath. They’d find a way off the planet. They had to. But…did that really mean rescue never came for that group..? No, don’t think about it, he scolded himself. Instead, he offered a hand to help Henrik back to his feet, and the five of them started for one of the habitats.

What they found didn’t lift their spirits any. A PDA, not a data log, met them. Bart and Antony—the other two were dead?—regretting going down so far. Bart was ill in the recording. With the scientist’s help, they were trying to find a cure, but failing. One of them mentioned that Antony was wearing a special suit—some sort of hazmat diving suit—that had kept him from catching the same illness, and now left him needing to be extremely careful not to touch Bart with his bare hands.

Then it was over. Nothing more to the recording; just a dying man and one of his crew members trying to save him.

“I’m really startin’ to hate this planet,” Chase growled. “What do you think he had?”

Instead of an answer, Henrik pulled his scanner from his hip and ran a scan on himself. The answer had Marvin furrowing his brow.

“Performing self-scan. Vital signs normal. Detecting trace amounts of foreign bacteria. Continuing to monitor.”

He aimed it at Jameson. Same answer. Jackie: Same. Every one of them ended up with the same results. “Trace amounts of foreign bacteria” just kept looping in Marvin’s head. That couldn’t be good. Right? How the hell would they even have it? They didn’t even know that it was the same thing Bart had, but a part of Marvin very much was suspecting that it was.

“Could just be…I dunno, some sorta alien flu?” Chase shook his head and stood a little straighter. “We’ll keep an eye on it, okay? Don’t let it get to you, though. We’ll worry about it if we need to.”

If we need to, Marvin’s thoughts parroted. As if they hadn’t just listened to a man dying in a recording.

“…Do we really want to check that last habitat?” Marvin leaned out the door to peer across at it. “Things are just getting fuckin’ worse and worse on this island.”

Keen and Yu attacked by something. Survivors from ten years before who’d probably died long before rescue could even hope to find them. Some weird alien artifact that Henrik and Jameson were taking turns carrying. An alien sickness.

“Whatever is there can only be the cherry on top, yes?” Henrik grumbled. He was leaning against the wall, foot held off the ground. Jameson was sitting on the floor near him, eyes squeezed shut and hand pressed to his chest.

“Besides,” Marvin added, “those two clearly need a rest, and I am not resting on this island. Far as we know, whatever went after Keen and Yu could be, oh I don’t know, watching us?!”

Chase grimaced and gave Jackie a look.

“We, ah…” He ran a hand through his bleached hair, fingers catching the tangled curls. “What if we have them head back to the habitat? And…you can join ‘em?”

Jackie started nodding. “We can’t just abandon those two if they’re still alive. I’m not doin’ it.”

“And splitting up is probably the worst thing we can do,” Marvin muttered.

“We either split up, or all go to the next habitat together. I’m not leavin’ this damn island until we at least know what happened to them.” Chase crossed his arms, closing himself off for further debate. He’d made up his mind and there was no way Marvin was going to change it.

“Fine.” Marvin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine. I want them alive just as much as you do, but I’m not risking my life for them.”

Chase shouldered past him. “Then let’s get back to the damn beach so you can leave. Fuckin’ hell.”

Did Marvin feel guilty for it? Sure. Did he feel awful leaving just the two of them on the island while he took their injured comrades back to their habitat? Sure.

Was he going to risk his life for someone who sounded like they probably dead anyway? Hell no. Marvin knew his priorities, and that definitely wasn’t one of them. He felt bad for Keen and Yu, holped that whatever killed them hadn’t let them suffer, or that they had, by some miracle, survived—but he wasn’t going to stick his neck out for them.

He’d had enough near-death experiences these last few days to last a lifetime, thank you very much.

Flippers back on, air tanks attached to their masks, Jameson helped into the Seamoth, and they were off.

His only thoughts were “good luck” when he glanced over his shoulder, saw Chase and Jackie at the edge of the island now, watching for them to make sure they made it a safe distance away. Then the two of them disappeared into the brush.

Good luck, he thought. You’re gonna need it.

#fanfic #jacksepticeye #subnautica crossover #the septics #marvin the magnificent #chase brody #jackieboy man #dr. schneeplestein #jameson jackson #blitz indites #deep blue sea #dbs ch16 #swearing /

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justlightthefirstspark · 5 years ago

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As promised, my analysis/opinion/thought piece on today’s MUWFC game vs Spurs. Everything is chronological which I feel like should go without saying but in the interest of clarity 🤷🏽‍♀️ but not everything is tagged to the minute cause I am an idiot that didn’t realise that that would be helpful til like the 2nd half. Also, if I missed anything, or got players mixed up or anything pls lemme know and I’ll edit accordingly! I’ve never really done any from of sports based writing before (I don’t think tweets count lol) so pls be nice, merci 😘

Line up as follows, I guess this is pretty common knowledge but you know, coherency and such.

Tbh it was kinda hard to see *a lot* of this game, especially on the far side of the pitch and by both goals because of the weather, felt like I was watching Silent Hill for a little while there, but I did my best. My wifi is also horrendous atm, and we all know that the FA Player can be problematic so there’s a very good chance I might have missed something due to a lag or buffering btw. Just drop me an ask if you notice anything that mightn’t be quite right, and I’ll fix it asap! Some ~analysis~ (if you could call it that lol) is more detailed than other bits cause there was a lot happening and today I learned that it’s kinda hard to write one thing and watch another at the same time lol

First half:

Quick, fast and almost successful start. A much-needed improvement on the stagnancy vs Bristol a few weeks ago, and obviously we couldn’t see the midweek game vs Brighton so I can’t compare them.

I have to say I’m not a massive fan of all the back passes, all the time. I think a more attacking FB might be needed in the summer, or maybe Ökvist should be given some time to acclimatise to the WSL soon? I was never the biggest fan of Harris last season, I personally don’t think she’s fast enough – she gets outpaced down the flank by attackers 90% of the time, which isn’t good. I think A. Turner is the strongest FB option currently, at least defensively, and she’s shown she has a decent attacking ability, and has a wicked long ball, as well as crossing. My only issue is sometimes those tackles of hers can be a liability, giving away unnecessary fouls. It’s almost like she doesn’t think before she flies in sometimes, which is a shame, cause I love them. A lot.

There were a couple of really good chances in the first half, including a great ball in and run up from Galton, which should have resulted in probably the opening goal but whether it was as a result of the weather or just misjudged timing and placement from both Ross and Sigsworth, the chance went to waste. Groenen had an excellent chance to net her first for United but unfortunately sent it just wide. Another glorious link up between A. Turner and Galton led to another decent chance, a gorgeous cross in from the right to the opposite side of the box, and the perfect header which unfortunately was aimed straight at the keeper. Very unlucky to head in at the break with nothing.

There was an incredible double save from Earps around halfway through the first half. I have to say, I have some anxieties with her sometimes. She is quite good, but has a tendency to make some silly mistakes, and doesn’t always make the right call for a save. But my god she was on her game today, even if a potential error might have led to the first save. Didn’t disappoint me anytime she was called on this afternoon.

A few frustrations started to show around the 30 min mark, a few sloppy passes and challenges making the rounds. It was also around this time that I realized I’d picked a pretty poor game to start this thing on because I could barely see anything.

Zelem seems to be back in form, which can only be a good thing. But I would very much like it if somehow she could drag some of the other girls back up with her.

There were a fair few soft calls going Spurs way, which I wasn’t entirely convinced by. But then again I’m probably just naturally biased towards my girls.

Another great ball in to Sigsworth from A. Turner which was just *chefs kiss* but unfortunately came to nothing. There was also a spin move either to commit or avoid a challenge, I couldn’t really tell tbh, which was very impressive, as was her chase down on Mitchell at around 43 mins. (Amy’s my favourite player, can you tell?)

Booking for Kirsty Smith just before half time, but I gotta be honest I couldn’t see it due to the fog, so I have no idea what happened. Couldn’t find anything about it in the United post-match report either so apparently we’re just deleting that from the history of the earth which is completely fine by me to be honest.

Second half:

My main takeaway from this game is that both Sigsworth and Ross always seem to be looking for the same ball in the penalty area, and there very rarely seems to be anybody else around looking for a potential rebound. I think that James (who missed today’s game due to suspension) seems to be our main (only?) front line creator and finisher; Sigsworth is fine, that girl works like a dog and always gets the job done, I think she may have just needed another goal to boost her confidence, but I have no real concerns with her. Ross, however, I’m not entirely convinced by, I think a lot of her finishes have been a bit lucky and flukey so far. I’d start Toone over her for the rest of the season to be honest, Ross hasn’t done anything that tells me she deserves the starting place. Feel free to disagree with this of course, this is just my own personal opinion.

56 mins – confusion has entered the chat. McManus ends up pretty much through on goal, and then the ref whistles for what I assumed to be an offside. So naturally I nearly kicked my laptop out the window. The ref then awards a United penalty, and I’m even more confused now than I was in the beginning. I genuinely didn’t see anything but did hear a few shouts from what I’m assuming was the United bench for handball, so I have no idea what happened here.

‘58 – GOAL. Who else? God bless Katie Zelem is all I’m saying.

‘61 – Hanson 🔁 Ross. I think this was a good swap. I don’t think Ross was particularly good today, and Hanson immediately sparked that RW. I would have subbed Ross off sooner but that’s my only issue.

’64 – GOAL – Sigsworth with a pretty perfect if slightly scruffy strike from a corner.

A much better corner than previous attempts, and Spurs hadn’t defended any of them particularly well. I think that we have a major issue with set pieces, I dunno what exactly the problem is, whether they need to allocate a new taker or whatever but before today had we scored from a corner all season? Lemme knowwww.

’65 – A few decent chances for Spurs around this time. One pretty clear run in from the right, and one or two shots bounced right of the crossbar and the post. Basically my heart stopped for about 8 mins.

’66 – I DO NOT WANT TO SEE BACK PASSES IN THE BOX AS OPPOSITION PLAYERS SWARM IN. CLEAR IT. I DON’T CARE WHERE IT GOES JUST GET IT OUT. (sorry for the caps but my anxiety was out in force this afternoon)

United started playing much better after both goals, think they just needed a kick up the arse. *Ahem* A confidence boost. 👀 Much better intensity for the final 30 mins than the previous 60 imo.

’68 – Another decent chance for Spurs, with Earps coming way too far off her line than sat right with me. Very lucky nothing came of that.

’69-72 – Around this time I started to get *very* confused between Amy and Abbie cause they both had yellow boots on and literally the only thing I could see on the far side of the pitch was feet. That was fun.

’73 – The wasteful corners made a return. Slightly less panicked about that one considering we were already 2-0 up but still, I would like to see the glaring set piece issue sorted asap thanks girls x

’75ish – Toone 🔁 Groenen. Man I love Jackie Groenen. She really has been immense for us so far, and there’s a definite difference in how we play without her.

’78 – Harris 🔁 M. Turner. I’ve said my piece about Harris above but man, can we take a second to appreciate Millie Turner. She never, ever stops. Literally the heart of our defence.

’86 – GOAL – Oh captain, my captain. Beautiful strike from a free kick just outside the box, with the perfect bend around the wall and subsequently the keeper to make it 3-0.

United were very obviously stronger in the second half, almost looked like a completely different team at times. Whether they just got the hairdryer treatment at the half (I would imagine Casey is terrifying when she’s mad.) or the goals gave them that spark they desperately needed to kick on, they definitely made up for all the missed chances in the first half.

’90 – 4 additional minutes.

’92 – Another United free kick. McManus found herself almost clear in (again!), but due to an unlucky fumble with the ball at her feet unfortunately nothing came from this one. Surely a 4th goal otherwise.

’93 – FIIIIIIIIGHT. Kinda. You love to see it. Spend a little while conducting some, scientific research 🌚 and have concluded that Toone was tackled from behind just as the ball left her feet, which led to the ~scuffle~. Have to say that Amy walking away with Ella was extremely 🥰🥰🥰 (This is my research - https://twitter.com/48hours8/status/1218896406020349953?s=21)

’94 – Red card for Tooney. I would assume for her reaction more than anything but the camera didn’t catch it so I guess we’ll never know. I would have thought a yellow would suffice, considering that’s all the Spurs player in question received, but apparently not. 🤔 I’m still kinda confused tbh.

’95 – Full time.

Thus concludes what was certainly an interesting match. Please enjoy this comparison of United vs Spurs chaotic energy from @danieljamesmufc

Also thanks for reading if you got this far, it’s a bit stop-starty and clunky cause I just wrote down thoughts and whatever as they came into my head and then pieced it all together later on. I also just wanna say that I was massively impressed with Smith today. She hasn’t had many chances to prove herself this season, but that combo of herself and Galton down the left was lethal today imo. 🔥

Some extra thoughts:

I’m not a huge fan (like, at all) of fans singing men’s orientated chants. Let the women’s rivalries develop on their own, in their own way, and don’t drag the vulgarities across! That said, I do think that particular group of United fans has the potential to be a very, very good thing.

Also, just wanna say that these are my girls, and I would die for every single one of them. None of my criticism is meant to be intentionally negative, I just tried to be as objective and realistic as possible, without being a fangirl lol. Even my faves aren’t immune to criticism unfortunately.

And this picture is now my favourite thing ever to exist

#that was actually pretty fun to write #living for katie and jess scoring in the same game #this took longer than i care to admit #pls be nice i’m fragile lol #muwfc #manchester united women #my writing

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72crowe89 · 5 years ago

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Tom and Martha’s Great Escape

The illuminated mirror highlights Martha Wayne’s angular face as her hair shifts from long and short, curly and straight, blonde, brunette, and red. Her husband Thomas stands in front of his dress rack in their joint dressing room perusing though the different suits the higher ups had provided.

“How do you think I should do my hair, Tom?”

Tom shrugs as he looks between a black tux and a navy suit with a double-breasted jacket. “Do what you like. You won’t be able to really see it anyway in the alleyway.”

Martha sighs. Eighty years, and she and Tom have been playing the same roles. Eighty years, throughout comics, television, movies, video games, cartoons, and more. Eighty years, and their fates are always the same: to die in that dark alley so Batman can live. To be a source of inspiration and pain for their son, having no characterization beyond that. Eighty years; no deviation, no choice.

She decides on curly, brunette, and short, a Jackie Kennedy bob with a Jewish curl. Turning towards Tom, she points to the tux. “You should go with that one. It looks specifically more like high society dinnerware.”

Tom smiles as he puts back the navy suit. “What will you be wearing, my dear?”

Martha rolls her eyes towards her own dress rack: stringy flapper dresses, backless evening dresses, little black dresses, etc...along with furs of every unfortunate mammal in the world. “No pants?” she wonders aloud, “It’s not like people are going to be focusing on them.”

“Yeah, but they’re going for a classical WASP appearance, even though you’re missing the P, so no pants.”

Martha rolls her eyes again and ultimately decided on a sleeveless green taffeta dress with yellow pumps and a white chinchilla fur coat. Of course, her outfit wasn’t complete. On her dresser, in a red velvet box a la Pretty Woman, sat the accursed pearl necklace. The necklace that sealed her and her husband’s fates. The small stones felt heavy on Martha’s neck, as if they carried her destiny.

“Wow. You’re beautiful.”

Martha turns around. The tuxedo fitted Tom like a glove, accentuating his height and broad shoulders. His face, usually accompanied by his trademark mustache, is clean shave. “You’re not too bad-looking yourself, Mr. Wayne” Martha says as she pushes him against a wall and grabs his face.

“Martha, you’ll mess up your makeup!” says Tom, face turning red.

“Well, a wise man once said that nobody will see it anyway, so why not?”

“You should listen to him more.”

“And I would say that his words are the second best thing to come out of his mouth.”

As they go to press their lips together, the writer pounds their fists on the door. “Already. five minutes til showtime!”

Martha huffs as she wraps her arms around Tom. “Well, let’s get this over with.” Holding hands, they exit their dressing room.

Opposite of them was the large dressing room of their 8-year-old son Bruce. His parents could hear the “NO’s” and “AAHHs” as he practiced his part in their death scene.

“It’s pretty messed up, isn’t it?” asks Martha, to which Tom grunts in consent. She quietly raps on the door. “Brucey?”

“Don’t talk to me!” comes the curt reply, “It’s going to be hard enough on set without you talking to me now.”

Martha and Tom give each other a sad look before walking away silently. As hard as it was to die in every adaptation, they couldn’t imagine watching their parents killed in front of them for eighty years straight.

Tom squeezes her hand. “Don’t worry. He’ll get stronger with time.” Martha didn’t voice the doubt that she had nagging at her head.

As they headed to the set, they see Joe Chill off to the side with The Writer. Joe kept pulling the brim of his cap down over his eyes, a nervous tick that the Waynes had discovered after twenty years of knowing him. “So, am I just a random mugger, hired by the Mafia...”

“It doesn’t matter” says The Writer as he hands Joe a handgun. “Your only job is to kill Bruce’s parents. Don’t put anymore thought into it.” With that, The Writer leaves.

“Hey Joe” waves Tom. Joe turns around and starts to wave the hand with the gun before wisely switching hands.

“Hey Tom, Martha. Ready for the same old routine?”

Martha laughs. “At least your story has changed several times over the years. Remember when you were going by Jack Napier and you ended up being the Joker?”

“Ha, yeah, what was that, 30 years ago? I guess people got a kick out Batman’s greatest villain also being his first. Even though my story changes, killing you guys is all it revolves around.”

“As inspiring Bruce to become Batman is for all of us” says Tom.

“Everything about this is to inspire Batman” Martha as she looks up at the marquee for The Mask of Zorro. “Aren’t there any other pulp movies we can watch instead? The Shadow? The Grey Ghost? The Spider? The Black Bat? Or is that last one to on the nose?”

Tom reaches under Martha’s fur coat and massages her shoulders. “Don’t worry, dear. The Illustrator will more than likely not even draw inside the theater. You can sleep through the movie if you want.”

“Okay everyone, places!” shouts The Writer as Bruce, dressed in a beige suit with short pants and a red bow tie, runs and grabs each of his parents’ hands.

---

The Waynes walk hand-in-hand outside of the theater and into the dark alley. Martha always wondered well exactly were they supposed to be going when they go this way, but she knows it doesn’t matter; it’s just a means to an end.

“Hey.”

On cue, Joe comes lurking out of the shadows, pulling his hat over his eyes with one hand and pointing the handgun with the other. “Gimme your pearls, lady!”

Martha plays out the scene in her mind, a scene she’s acted out so many times that it’s muscle memory. Thomas will defend them, and Joe will shoot him. Joe will grab her pearls and end up shooting her as well. Bruce will scream and cry. For the rest of his life he will see Joe’s face in every villain he fights and his parents’ faces in every victim he can’t save. This, over everything, was too much for Martha to bear.

She pulls the necklace over her head. “You want the pearls? You can have them!” With all of her strength Martha launches the pearls at Joe, who drops the gun and catches it. He stands there completely dumbfounded. Moreover, both Tom and Bruce stand there with their mouths agape.

The enormity of the situation finally hits Martha. What has she done? Most Batman stories begin with their deaths, and now she’s probably prevented them. What happens now? What will The Writer do? Her heart starts racing until her eyes catch something strange. Beyond the alley, the land starts to floppily bend down, almost like...

“The end of the page!” she says aloud, and, without thinking, she sprints towards it and leaps off of the page, enveloped in darkness as she freefalls. After taking a second to realized what happened, Tom instinctively runs towards the page and jumps off of it. He compacts his body to minimize wind resistance, hoping to reach Martha. Through some miracle, her delicate fingers grasp his sturdy ones in the dark.

“What now?” he says.

Martha squeezes his hand. “I don’t know.”

---

Joe stares down at the pearls in his hands. Every story, whether genuine or as a front, starts with him demanding the pearls but killing Tom and Martha before he got them. Why did even ask for the pearls? For money? The Waynes are loaded; why didn’t he ever demand the money? As a front to hide that’s he really a hitman? Maybe. To wear them himself? His character is not developed enough to have any likes or dislikes. Now that he has the pearls without killing the Waynes, he doesn’t know what to do.

He looks over to Bruce, who is frozen on his knees as he looks at the bent page. Given their history, Joe and Bruce have never had the best relationship. Nevertheless, he goes over to him. “You okay, kid?”

“It’s all wrong.”

“Well, it is pretty unexpected...”

“It’s all wrong!” Bruce jumps up and fists his eyes as he paces back and forth. “You were supposed to kill my parents. It’s the reason why Batman even exists! The story can’t continue if that doesn’t happen. Gotham won’t have a protector if my parents aren’t killed.”

The color drains from Joe’s face. “You want your parents to die?”

A look of sadness passes the boy’s face before it becomes completely stoic. “What I want is not important; what’s important to Gotham and the story is all that matters.”

Bruce rips the pearls out of Joe’s hands and replaces them with his gun. “You have to kill my parents.”

“Bu-but I ha-have the pearls...”

“Joe, this is the only role you have in this story. You never show up before this point, and you barely show up afterward. What do you think is going to happen it you don’t complete your role?”

Joe looks down. “I-l’ll probably become a background character.”

“That’s right: a background character rather than inspiring the greatest hero in the world. Is that what you want?”

“No, but-”

“Good.” Grabbing Joe’s arm, he pulls him towards the page end. “We going to find my parents, you’re going to kill them, and that act will compel me to be Batman.”

With that, Bruce drags both of them over the edge and into the void.

#batman #bruce wayne #thomas wayne #tom wayne #martha wayne #martha kane #joe chill #joseph chilton

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dontdietwd · 5 years ago

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Don’t Die, day 60

The way the camp looked now made perfectly clear that long weeks had gone by. After being there for almost exactly two months, the group of twenty had made the clearing, woods and tents home. The RV had the plastic roof constantly up, folding tables and chairs under it with their aluminum feet stuck into the dry earth. Someone had placed wild flowers in plastic cups, trying to make things feel homey; by one side, lines were extended from tree to tree, wet clothes and bed clothing hanging from them; improvised stoves on tripods hung above the constant fires; tents had been rearranged to our comfort, clothes hanging and pairs of shoes left in front of each.

Routine had been settled. Shane and I had separated with clear limits what was each one’s job – Shane still took care of camp safety, organizing lookout shifts and guns, while I took care of pretty much everything else, like food and water supply, organization and maintenance of our gear, both previous possessions and new stuff Glenn would usually bring back with him from his weekly runs to Atlanta – but mainly, I took care of the people around. I had never known before, but I seemed to be good at listening and understanding problems they all would present to me, and with my common sense, was quite capable of finding solutions, or at least helping them find it themselves. I still didn’t feel comfortable at giving others comfort. I wasn’t a huger or spoke softly: I was more the tough love kind of person, who would always be honest and give my opinion, no matter what it was.

I still hadn’t lost the habit of keeping track of time. I knew exactly which day into the apocalypse we were – 59 days – and how far along I was with the accidental, unwanted pregnancy – 10 weeks. Still keeping it a secret, I had been feeling better these days, the nightly sickness reducing day by day to nearly nothing. I did feel hungrier now, but forced myself not to eat more than the others. It wouldn’t be fair. Conscious that I wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret for too long, I planned on how I was going to bring it up to Daryl, my decision to tell him first still firm, but still couldn’t picture a good situation to do that. I could feel my lower belly a bit grown, but it still didn’t show under my clothes.

With nearly two months into the end of the world, great part of the days were spent with hopeful attempts to get news, to get some contact over the radio, hoping Glenn would return from his last run bringing good news. None of it ever happened, though. The static of the radio was always our only response, and Glenn would always answer my hopeful looks with a shake of his head, tight lips, telling me he found nothing. He did bring back things – food, clothes, gas, he’d been able to find the salt, but not as much as we’d hoped, and everything he thought could be useful. All, except for information and rescue.

The day before the next run Glenn would make to Atlanta, he gathered Shane and I so he could talk to us about it. He reminded us what he had informed the last time he returned; he had found an abandoned department store that was still completely untouched, filled with clothes, kitchen apparels, camping, fishing and hunting gear, canned and dry food and maybe even more useful things he couldn’t spare the time to take a look. This week, he planned on going specifically there, to this store, and thought maybe he could use an extra pair of hands.

“Do you have someone in mind?” Shane asked him.

“One of you guys, maybe?” Glenn told him looking back and forth between us, a little unsure.

“Nah, I ain’t going,” Shane crossed his arms above puffed chest, a definite tone on his voice. “Not leaving camp alone, all the people and stuff. I ain’t going.”

“I’ll go,” I said with the same tone. Shane looked sharply at me. “I think we all gotta know how to deal with a run, ya know? Actually, Glenn, I’ve been thinking… You’re pretty good at it, I think you’ve killed more walkers than any of us at this point. Maybe you could take more of us with you.”

“Oh, Sam, I don’t know…”

“Look, I know you said you’d rather go alone,” I interrupted him. Shane still had his arms crossed, just listening. “And I know you handle yourself well, but we all have to be able to do it. To go on runs, to get things back to camp, and most importantly, to defend ourselves and the others. We’re not developing any of those abilities by staying in camp mainly sitting around all day.”

“She’s got a point there, man,” Shane opined. “It’s better if more than just one person’s able to do it, we could have more than a group going on runs at a time, keeping things in motion.”

“What do you think?” I asked Glenn, a bit surprised Shane was agreeing with me so readily. “You up for taking a group with you this time?”

“Alright…” he agreed reluctantly and then added a little bit more certain: “But you gotta make it clear to anyone who goes that I’ll be in charge. They’ll have to listen to me, if I say we move on, we move on. If I say we retreat, we retreat.”

“You got it,” I nodded sharply. “I’ll be there anyway, if anyone gives you a hard time.”

“Good.” Shane uncrossed his arms. “I’ll go ask people who wants to go. How many do you think?” he asked to both Glenn and I.

“Uh, I – Five. Yeah, about five. No, I don’t know. Less than ten.”

“Glenn,” I reached for his shoulder, “you’ll be this run’s leader. Make a decision and stay firm in it.”

“Sorry, yeah, uh… Six or seven. Yeah, seven, at most.”

“Seven it is,” Shane mumbled before turning around and leaving.

As Shane walked around camp talking to each adult personally, I went back to the tents to gather a few of my stuff in a backpack to get ready to go the next morning. I was met by Daryl, returning from the most secluded area of the woods, where they had dig holes in the most sanitary way possible, and told him about the recent decision.

“You sure ya gonna go?” he asked me carefully.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Why?”

“’Cause you was sick ‘til two days ago.”

“I’m fine now, Daryl.”

“Still think ya shouldn’t go.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He stopped talking for a moment to watch me dive into my tent and return after a few seconds with an empty backpack in hand.

“Then I’m going too.”

“Didn’t you say you were going hunting?”

“It can wait.”

“It can’t, Daryl, you know it can’t. We need food, real meat, not the canned crap we may find out there, and until you come back the dried meat will be over,” I saw Daryl start to speak in answer, but cut him out. “You know Merle can’t go hunting alone. He’s not fine, he’s withdrawing, and he’ll want to do something. He’ll want to go hunting or to go to this run, either way he shouldn’t be alone. One of us should be with Merle; the others can’t deal with him.”

“So we gotta baby sit on a fuckin’ grown ass man now?” Daryl asked bitterly, and I’m sure he knew the answer to that question was yes. “I don’t like it, Sam. Don’t want you going out there where I can’t help ya.”

Oh, how adorable. Weird to be calling someone like Daryl adorable, but it was the perfect word now.

“I know that,” my voice softened a bit. “It’s how I feel when you guys go out there hunting. I don’t go with you when we all should stay together, from the beginning, like we agreed,” he nodded and I continued. “But things ain’t like that, we can’t have each other’s backs all the time. I’ll go on this run and Merle will let us know pretty soon where he’ll want to be; hunting or Atlanta, and we’ll go with it.”

“How long do ya think it’ll take?”

“A day, probably, we’ll be back at night or in the morning, at most.”

Before he could say anything, Merle’s thundering, laughing voice broke into the tents’ space. “Hey, Sam! I’m coming with ya! Not gonna let those fucker’s get to ya, sweetheart! Got ya back!” and he turned around to leave once again, still shouting. “Atlanta, here I come!”

Sighing, I looked back at Daryl, his face showing just how annoyed and worried he was, biting his lower lip like he did. I reached out to touch his arm. “We’ll be alright, don’t worry.”

He shook his head and took a step back, opening space between us, my hand dropping from his arm. “Can’t help it,” he said and turned to walk away.

* * *

I had only been able to enjoy the other’s company around the fire at night twice before. It had become a habit; some of them would take their spots on the lookout while the rest gathered around a low fire. Strong enough to warm the chill night but low enough not to be seen from a distance. There, we sat for about a couple of hours to eat and talk until sleep took over and quieted the camp until the next morning. Having been sick every night until a few days before, I had never been really able to enjoy it, and was glad now I could. We had had chicken soup – it had been thinned with salted water to serve more people, but it still had tasted good enough – and were now quietly talking, tin mugs being passed from hand to hand. I was mostly watching and listening to the others talk, observing how the others interacted.

I could see Andrea and Amy had become quite close to Dale, who seemed to be some kind of father figure to them, though I honestly didn’t think Dale thought of Andrea paternally. Shane was always close to Lori and Carl, I had noticed it from the first day, and it had been intensifying these days. Jim and Jackie were good friends too, closer to the Morales then to any other. Glenn got along with everyone, except for the Dixons, who didn’t get along with anyone other than me. The Peletiers were always away, in their own little circle, Ed probably imposing that Carol and Sofia stayed with him, unable to get close to anybody else. I hated it, but I knew I could never force Carol to stand up for her husband, take her daughter and go sit with the others. She had to want to do it on her own.

Merle was on his watch duty, which he always accomplished by complaining a lot, but did his job. Daryl was around, sitting on a log a bit outside the circle, close to me and only listening, as usual. By my side, Amy took a sip of a drink on her tin mug and then offered it to me, the blonde, young woman nodding wordlessly in my direction. Warm tea would do great right then. I took it with a smile as a thank you and kept listening to Dale tell the circle about his late wife and the time he gave her a kitten for her birthday, to only then find out she was allergic to cats.

Smiling as I thought of how I had never had any kind of pet in my life, I brought the mug to my lips to take a sip. The smell of wine hit me as strongly as a punch to the nose, and the liquid touched my lips, the nectarous burn of the cheap sweet wine making my mouth water, my taste buds coming hungrily to life, starving, ordering my brain to demand more, a full gulp, the whole mug, the entire bottle, deciding I should just drain it, drink it all, fall around drunkenly forgetting all the worries, all the walkers, the pregnancy, the responsibilities, the ghosts from the past.

Instead, as soon as the wine touched my tongue, I spit it out. I spit it strongly, loud noise coming out as the red liquid sprayed towards the center of the circle. All heads turned to me, startled. Behind me, Daryl nearly got up but refrained, remained sitting but attentive.

“What the fuck!!” I yelled, a hand rubbing my lips to clean them, my heart pounding painfully. “That’s fuckin’ wine!!”

“Sam?” Shane was the one to ask as he stood up just as I did. I’m sure my body language was foreign to all of the group. “What’s the matter?”

Instead of giving him any attention because this had nothing to do with him, I looked down at Amy, who had the same startled expression the others did.

“Did you just give me a mug of wine without telling me what it was?!” I yelled and threw the white painted tin mug to the ground, making Amy flinch, eyes wide in shock. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Amy stuttered, trying to answer, but her older sister was already by me. “Hey, back off! What’s the problem?”

“The problem!” I carried on yelling. Daryl was also up, as most of the circle was now, and approached me slowly, I could see from the corner of my eye, and I’m sure he was fully aware of mine and everyone else’s movements. “The fuckin’ problem is that you don’t just give fuckin’ alcohol to people without warning them what the fuck it is! I thought it was tea!”

“So what?!” Andrea still countered, now standing in front of her young sister, facing me.

“What the fuck is the problem, Sam?” I also heard Shane ask me and saw him approach with puffed chest, just as I saw Daryl get closer, now by my side rather than behind me.

“The fuckin’ problem is that this was the first time in three fucking years,” I paused and moved on, “three years, four months and seventeen fuckin’ days, that I’ve had any real contact with any drink! That’s what’s the fuckin’ matter with it!”

Nobody spoke. I saw the awkwardness fall over them all replacing the astonishment like rain, people exchanging uncomfortable looks. Andrea turned back to look at Amy, who looked down. The only noise was the fire crackling softly and I ragged breaths and sniffs. My mind was in a complete turmoil.

It didn’t take more than five seconds for Daryl to reach out and hold my arm just above myr elbow and, with a gentle tug, pull me away with him. I moved with him unthinkingly, allowing Daryl to guide me out of the circle towards the tents. We had moved halfway there with him still gently holding my arm when I stopped walking. He stood there, watching me. I had my unfocussed, lost into the woods, a single tear path on my face. I turned around then, Daryl let me go, and took a few steps back towards the circle, but didn’t return there. I stopped only close enough to be heard.

“There was no way you could’ve known,” I started and lifted my lowered hear to look at Amy. “I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

With that, without waiting for any answer or gesture, I turned around again and walked over to where Daryl was waiting for me, and together we moved out of everyone’s sight, silence falling over the camp.

I sat down heavily in a log close to the tents, both my legs shaking nearly out of control, elbows resting on them making my whole body tremble. I breathed hard, licked my lips, dried the sweat from my face.

“Fuck!” I let out suddenly, head falling between my knees. “Fuck, why did it have to…” and I didn’t finish the sentence, though Daryl surely understood.

“You didn’t want nobody to know,” he affirmed.

“No,” it came out muffled by my hands that covered my face. “Nobody had to know. Ain’t nobody’s business. But I bet you knew.”

“Wasn’t sure,” and we were silent again for a moment and Daryl took the time to sit by my side, on the other end of the log. “Was just alcohol?”

I took a deep breath, hands releasing my face, and popped my neck. “Was mostly alcohol, whatever I could get my hands on. Cheap wine was the main choice… Just like the one I tasted just now. But… Drugs too, on occasion.”

Daryl nodded slowly, saying nothing else, and started biting on his lower lip. He understood my problem well, I was sure. He had Merle, his admittedly addict to every drug that was illicit and licit brother, and his own father who had been heavily alcoholic until his liver exploded, not to mention tens of friends and acquaintances. I was just one more of them.

“I had enough examples at home not to get into it too deep,” I heard him sharing in a very quiet voice. I turned my head look at him sideways, interested, glad to have a distraction, so he moved on. “Father died of cirrhosis, he drank so much… And Merle, you know Merle.”

“Yeah…” I answered in a whisper that was for his ears only. “Good… Good that you didn’t…”

“Almost did, though… For a while… But then I started seeing a lot of old Will on me so I backed out,” he confessed and snorted a laugh. “Merle called me all kindsa things.”

I smiled, “yeah, he would.” We shared one more long moment of silence before I spoke again. “My dad was a nice guy. Never saw him drink a drop of alcohol. Died of cancer.”

“Life ain’t fair,” Daryl told me as if he knew where my thoughts were going.

I nodded, looking down with a sad smile, my legs no longer trembling so much. “Spot on.”

“Well, at least in the apocalypse ain’t gonna be too easy to come across temptations…”

I smiled again and looked once more at Daryl. He looked shy, lips pressed together, self-conscious about his attempt to cheer me up a bit. The sight made me smile more. Ike I said, adorable.

“Yeah, I don’t think people will offer me mugs on unknown drinks too often.”

“You know what them parents say: never accept a drink from strangers., Daryl mumbled lowly, his voice grave but amused.

I laughed aloud now, a strange feeling on my chest that had nothing to do with the abstinence syndrome that had threatened to overtake me. My heart swelled knowing that Daryl was trying to cheer me up and comfort me, and I just couldn’t help but allow a large smile to lighten up my face.

“I think it was candy!” I laughed. “Don’t take candies from strangers.”

“Yeah, well, ya had a nice guy for a dad. Mine said that about drinks.”

I knew how sad this thought was, deep down, but still smiled. He did too, for a moment, and I could actually see teeth, something I wasn’t used to see too often, but he hid the larger smile again, looking down embarrassedly.

Silence fell again, but not at all uncomfortable. I still wanted to smile, but I still tasted the wine on my tongue, my mind confused about how I felt at the moment. I wanted to thank Daryl for talking to me, distracting me, and I wanted to ask more about his life, but was afraid to scare him away. I desired to go back to the fire and take the rest of the bottle wine and drain it down, and I wanted to scotch over closer to Daryl and just be there.

I did none of those things, though, instead I looked back over my shoulders, just like Daryl, at the sound of feet crunching dry leaves, and saw Merle approach, his imposing presence worsened by a thousand by the presence of a full bottle of moonshine loosely held on his left hand.

“Hey there, Boozer!” Merle thundered as he stepped over the log between Daryl and I and stood in front of us. “How come ya didn’t tell me, we coulda shared some vitamin water!”

“Oh, fuck off, Merle…” I said resting my elbows on my knees and hiding my face in my hands again.

“Oh, come on, Alkie! I know ya want it!” he sing-songed shaking the moonshine bottle.

“Yes!”, I yelled shooting up from the log. “Ya know I want it, so why are ya doing this?!”

“The fuck ya doin’ Merle?” Daryl was up too.

“It’s the end of the fuckin’ world!” he laughed and opened the bottle lid. “Bit won’t hurtcha!”

“But it will!” I yelled and took a step back from him and his bottle. “Ya know it will, ya know what’ll do to me if I take a sip!”

“I know. Ya gonna fuckin’ relax, is what’s gonna happen!”, and with that he took a long gulp out of the bottle, a deep, unpleasant ‘ah!” sound following it.

“Ain’t ya trying to quit it?” Daryl asked him as I turned my back to Merle, arms crossed. All the good feelings I’d been feeling simply vanished by then, my chest painful.

“Quitting on crystal and coke. Ain’t never said I’d stop the booze,” and another gulp followed it.

“Just leave me alone, Merle,” I told him quietly.

“Why? Yeah, I know why!” he drawled walking over to me. “Is cause ya know ya want it more than any fuckin’ thing right now. Ya want it more than ya want to breathe!”

“Merle!” I heard Daryl say in a firm, angry voice. He stood between his brother my back right before Merle reached me. “Back the fuck away from her.”

Before Merle could say anything else – which, by the look I saw on the older Dixon’s face when I turned, would be a pissed-off remark, the beginning of a fight between the brothers, which would make the situation even worse – I interrupted them both.

“I want you away from me, Merle,” I started and the dry tone of my voice made even Daryl turn and stare. “I thought you had become my friend those months, but I was fucking wrong. You are the worst person someone could have their life. I’ve met horrible people in my life, Merle, and you have just proved to be one of them. This thing you did now? It’s despicable. Ain’t something you do to your enemy. This thing here, that we had - this friendship, it’s over. Ya ruined it. Get the fuck away from me, Dixon.”

I didn’t wait to see or listen to any reaction. I rounded him and walked away a few steps, but didn’t leave the tent area since it was dark and unsafe to go wandering too far. Silence followed me where I stood, arms crossed, unseeing eyes staring into the darkened woods, trembling returned to my legs. After a moment I heard the leaves being crunched under careful, gentle feet. This information alone told me it was not Merle. Daryl entered my eyesight and stood there with me, silent.

“I didn’t think ya should go on that run tomorrow,” he started with a whisper after a while. “Now I’m sure ya shouldn’t go.”

“I’m fine, Daryl…”

“I know ya fine. Ya gonna be alright. I mean ‘bout Merle.”

“What about him?”

“He’s goin’. You said ya’d be the only one to look after him. Ya can’t now.”

“I’m still going. Glenn gonna need me there. I gotta be –”

I stopped talking when we heard steps again, both of us turning to look in silence. Among the tents, in the darkness, we saw as Lori tiptoed from her own tent towards the neighbor one – where Shane lived. Lori stopped there, looked around, her eyes sweeping over the spot where Daryl and I stood, not seeing us. Silently, the tent’s zipper was opened from the inside and we could faintly see Shane’s head come out of it, look around quickly as well, before his hand reached out to take Lori’s, pulling her with him inside. We heard the zipper being closed once more, and then he silence returned to the sleeping area.

“Yeah, they all’ll need ya,” Daryl broke the silence once again, completely ignoring what we’d seen, turning to look at me. He whispered impatiently, but softness still coated his voice. “But what ya gonna do when Merle starts actin’ out? Ya know he gonna.”

“I know that,” exhaustion took over my tone. “But that’s exactly why I wanted to go, and I still go, ‘cause of that. Fight or no fight, him being a fuckin’ asshole to me or not, nobody there will be able to talk him out of it.”

“And you will?”

“I don’t know, Daryl, I’ll just,” I shook my head, closing my eyes. “I don’t know… I can’t…”

“You ok?”

“No, I need to lie down. I’m going to bed.”

I turned to go and Daryl followed me automatically until we stopped in front of my small, bright orange tent. Arms crossed, I looked down.

“Thank you, Daryl…”

“For what?”

“Staying with me and talking and… Distracting me of the... You know.”

“’S nothin’.”

“It ain’t nothing and you know it,” I whispered decisively and looked at him. “And, I mean, mostly for trying to protect me from Merle.”

He smiled that shy, tight lipped smile Daryl had. “Ya hardly need protection, especially from Merle.”

I returned his smile. “I know. But ya did it anyway and…” I shrugged, looking down again. “Is nice,” I told him in a gentle whisper. He didn’t answer and, looking at him again, I knew he was embarrassed wordless. I smiled at the notion, again, and moved to the tent. “Goodnight, Daryl.”

I entered then and, just as I zipped the tent closed, I thought she heard him say “Goodnight, Sam,” but it was so quietly I wasn’t sure. As I lay down on my folding bed, my trembling legs and painfully pounding heart had given way to fluttering butterflies in my stomach.

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annakie · 5 years ago

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It took three and a half months, but I’ve finished my Doctor Who Rewatch.

It’s time to talk about seasons 10, 11, overall wrapup thoughts and some best/worst lists. Very long post below.

I started doing this back at the end of August as more of a joke when I was going back and cleaning the terrible cringe stuff off the first few months of my blog, then ended up taking that project from when I started the blog in May, 2011 until late 2016. I realized that I had too much going on IRL right now to revisit my life at the end of 2016 when things took a sharp turn the wrong way, so I haven’t picked that back up again. I still might at some point.

After the start of the nostalgia tour I:

Cried about Doomsday

Still hated the Manhattan episodes but renewed my love for one of my favorite characters of all time.

Reflected about Martha Jones and being an overly-zealous defender of a fictional character

Cried a lot over meeting and losing River Song in the span of an hour and a half.

Made my way through Season 4 and found myself still mostly loving the show.

Finished Season 4 and was starting to tire of Ten but knew I had more content to get through.

Didn’t post again til I was done with Amy and Rory. Loved Amy, Rory and River even more, especially Rory.

Watched an episode I remembered I didn’t like just because of the guest actors. Only marginally helped the episode.

Disliked the second half of season 7 even more than I used to. Felt meh about Clara.

Warmed to Clara more in seasons 8 and 9. Still, was ready to see her go. Loved Twelve, though the first half of season 8 continued to be rough. Adored the Husbands of River Song for the 6th+ time.

Took a brief moment to love Bill.

Full disclosure on the rewatch: I skipped most of Fear Her except the first and last few minutes, and actually haven’t gotten back to Waters of Mars or the one 11 Christmas Special with the kids who’s father dies. I may or may not pick those up in the next week or two.

So tonight I finished rewatching all of Thirteen’s episodes and wanted to talk a bit more about Bill, and then a lot about Thirteen, and some general thoughts about the whole rewatch.

Bill Potts is too good for this world. I remembered loving her during her season but was blown away on the rewatch with how much I loved her, and almost all of her season. Her energy, her story, her smile, it’s infectious. It’s infuriating that so many people didn’t watch Bill because wow she deserved a lot more attention that I feel like she got, and also I feel like the show itself turned a real corner that season. Season 9, yes, definitely better than 8 and 7.5. But It’s like Moffat or the writers in general kinda grocked into several important things and made the show more progressive and less cringe?

There wasn’t an episode I thought was bad, even the more filler episodes like the one in space with the air being a commodity was tense and fun. I’m not sure I’d skip a single episode.

And then Bill, I think, ends up getting an even shittier deal than Martha in her season. Left alone for ten years in a shithole mopping up floors, only to be turned into a cyberman and get left extremely traumatized, and sacrifice herself. A very good story. A very sad and frustrating ending. Except that she does get to “transform” and travel the universe with Heather.

Maybe she did eventually go back home and finish living her life from not long after she left in the TARDIS the last time -- it’s entirely possible. The Memory-Bill in Twice Upon a Time (the Twelve & One crossover) remembered traveling with Heather, which means her memory was taken from some point AFTER. So maybe she got to be an ethereal being for a long time, and then eventually went home to Earth. Or maybe she’s still out there traveling the stars with Heather. Either way, she deserves a good life, and a good ending, even if we never know the true ending.

Twelve -- I love him. Again, he had a really rough start but Capaldi is an amazing actor and he owned the role. I don’t think it’s actually possible to rank my favorite doctors from the new Who era, they’re all different, all great. And Missy -- such an amazing villain. Paired with Simms-Master was so, extremely fun, but even on her own, I think she’s now my favorite incarnation of The Master. (I’ve only seen a few episodes of Old-Who with Delgado, and I really love Delgado’s Master as well.)

Nardole was also a fun addition to the season. I know technically he was considered a full companion and enjoyed him when he was there, but tbh, to me it was all about Bill.

But hey, when Twelve left, it was a good time for him to go -- I really think three seasons is the sweet spot for length of a Doctor. I was so ready for Thirteen and The Fam.

I remembered loving Thirteen when her episodes were airing and, I was right to. Jodie Whittaker is so good -- I never doubt for a second that she’s The Doctor. The show one again feels very different with a new doctor / companions / showrunner. I honestly loved the lack of Doctor-Angst in the season. Thirteen is so much more brightness and sunshine and I think it was a good way to swing the Doctor after Twelve. I also liked that there were a few comments about changing genders, a little bit of frustration from noticing how people treated her differently, but it was neither an earthshattering thing that made EVERYTHING DIFFERENT nor was it a non-event. I really think they handled it well.

I will say that I think some of the critics were right, that the season itself could have used a bit more of an arc. Not a heavy arc, like seasons five and six had, but a bit more than Tim Shaw showing up in the first and last episodes of the season. It looks like next season is going to have that.

The arc that was there though really came from Graham and Ryan’s grief about Grace and their relationship growing. Honestly, I remember when we learned that one of the new companions was going to be a 60-ish year old dude I wasn’t looking forward to that at all, but honestly, I love Graham. He’s an actual good guy, he loves deeply, he’s allowed to show his emotions, he handles things WELL. He’s not perfect but also I felt like they wrote his character so well, he wasn’t an arrogant guy expecting everyone to follow his orders, he cares deeply for Ryan and even had some great scenes with Yaz.

Ryan and Yaz are both also just so fantastic. I loved getting to spend time with Yaz’s family both current and past. I actually learned a little history in the episode that took place in Pakistan (and loved having a benevolent alien storyline there, love that episode so much). I also loved that they allowed Ryan to show grief and sadness, and vulnerability too.

I was definitely feeling the 13/Yaz vibes on the rewatch, and although I wouldn’t say I’d be upset if they did end up doing a Ryan/Yaz storyline, I also wouldn’t be upset if they didn’t do any romance storylines at all. I didn’t miss it this season, and 13/Yaz seemed more likely than anything.

I also loved that they took on racism in a couple of big ways this series. I felt like the only big swing-and-miss episode was Ker-Blam! where they were so close to really hammering down a good message in the episode and then it felt like Jeff Bezos himself came in and rewrote the last 10 minutes.

TBH there were a couple of episodes that I had COMPLETELY forgotten about, especially the one with Chris North and the big spiders. Like while I was watching it I had a vague memory of seeing it before, but not up until then. I’d also forgotten about the New Year’s episode last year with Ryan’s dad. I only remembered to watch it because after the final episode I was like “Wait, wasn’t Ryan’s dad supposed to be in this season?” and so I went to hunt for the episode.

SO... that’s it. I was actually a little shocked last night when I finished up the New Year’s episode and realized... I was DONE. I made it back through eleven seasons and... it was worth it.

Some final thoughts... and I’m just picking a few things out here off the top of my head, I wasn’t keeping a list all the way through so I’m sure I’m going to think of other things after hitting Post, but here we go.

---------

COMPANION RANKINGS: God Tier: Martha Jones

Faves: Bill Potts, Rory Williams, River Song

I love you so much: Donna Noble, Amy Pond, The Fam (All together!), Jack Harkness, Mickey Smith, Wilfred Mott

Very very Good: Rose Tyler, Nardole

I Still Like You: Clara Oswald

---------

FAVE SEASON: I mean, it’s still gonna be Martha’s season with an honorable mention of the second half of 4.

If you take Martha Jones out of the equation, it’d probably be either 6 through 7.0, or Bill’s season.

LEAST FAVORITE: The second half of 7, for sure, and the first half of 8 is kinda rough. It’d be easy to say season 1, as well, but I don’t think that’s entirely fair, as I think the age of the show really shows there and there was a lot of getting-on-their feet they had to do. There’s still a lot of good there, you just have to look for it harder.

---------

Favorite Specials:

The Husbands of River Song, #1 favorite no question

The Day of the Doctor a close second.

Honorable mention to the Night of The Doctor for the canonical return of Eight. Seriously, the first time I saw that it may have been the single most joyous moment of New Who for me.

Least Favorite:

I mean, I haven’t rewatched two of them yet since I remember not liking them.

Also Voyage of the Damned was just even worse than I remembered it.

I Cried The Hardest:

Amy and Rory’s leaving in The Angels Take Manhattan

River’s death in the Library

The end of Doomsday

Danny’s death

The end of Vincent and the Doctor

Prem’s death in Demons of the Punjab, maybe the only single-episode character death that hit me that hard.

Happiest Tears:

Martha leaves the Doctor

The group in the TARDIS towing Earth home in Journey’s End

Twelve and River get 24 years together

Ryan calls Graham “Grandad”

Jackie and Alt-Pete meet/”reunite”

Heather shows up and... “saves” Bill, they go off on adventures.

Best Twists:

John Simms Return at the end of season ten.

YANA is the Master

Oswin is actually a Dalek

Heaven is run by Missy, and the Cybermen. (Damn I really love twists concerning the Master don’t I?)

Bill discovers she IS a Cyberman

Loudest cheers:

Mickey showing up in Doomsday

Martha laughs at the Master

Rory’s speech at the beginning of A Good Man Goes to War

The Doctor punches a racist who insulted Bill

Best dramatic moments:

Jack and the Doctor talk about Rose in Utopia

Twelve takes several billion years to punch through a wall

Just This Once, Everybody Lives!

Turn Left

The Doctor says goodbye Idris in The Doctor’s Wife

Missy and the Master’s mutually assured destruction.

Biggest Laughs for a good reason:

The entire poison scene in the Unicorn and the Wasp

Basically everything about the Doctor attempting to be normal in The Lodger.

Right, putting Hitler in the Cupboard.

Doctor, when I’m on a date, do not put the Pope in my bedroom.

Biggest Cringe:

Penis-head half-human Dalek

Concrete blowjobs

Anytime a lady slapped/hit a guy not in self-defense

Old goblin Ten / Jesus Ten in Last of the Time Lords

Most of The End of Time part 1

Eleven forces a kiss on Jenny in The Crimson Horror (THAT deserved the slap.)

There’s a lot of things I could point out in season 1 but I’m grading season 1 on a curve.

Favorite non-companion recurring characters:

Danny Pink

Brian Williams

Jackie Tyler

Worst Villians:

“Love And Monsters”

“Fear Her”

The eye-crud sleep monster with Twelve

I kinda wanna say the Daleks are so overdone it’s hard to get excited about them anymore, though I did kinda like what they did in “Resolution” (13′s New Years episode last year.)

OK I honestly don’t know if I want to put “A sentient universe who is in the form of a large frog and just wants a BFF” in best or worst but I feel it belongs SOMEWHERE.

Best Villians:

Missy

Whatever the fuck that thing is in Midnight

House

Got a Raw Deal award:

Adam (Seriously, he was told nothing and did nothing wrong via what he’d been told?!

Donna

Bill (Seriously, TEN YEARS SCRUBBING FLOORS? only to not be saved by 2 hours and then turned into a cyberman and killed again?)

Most Bothersome Lack of Continuity:

The rules for meeting yourself / interfering in the past.

Uh so who was the Not-Danny astronaut in “Listen” anyway?

Most Improved on a Rewatch:

The Fires of Pompeii because... ten and twelve? It used to be one of my least favorite eps of season 4.

the Daleks in Manahattan episodes I guess just because I liked them more this time though they’re still not great.

Seeing all of River’s timeline in such a short period of time

Gotta say I enjoyed Planet of the Dead a normal amount when before I used to really dislike it.

Best Premiere of a Doctor: The Eleventh Hour Roughest Premiere of a Doctor: Deep Breath, since I’m grading season 1 on a curve. Best Exit of a Doctor: Honestly? I’m gonna give this one to Nine. He sacrificed himself to save Rose, and he died too soon. It seemed a fitting end, if too quick.

Roughest Exit of a Doctor: I’m going to go with Eleven here. It came at the end of what I felt was the worst period of New Who. The episode itself was... I kind of felt like it was overwraught and didn’t pack quite the same punch as the other three. Say what you will about the “I Don’t Wanna Go” line with Ten and Twelve needing to be convinced to regenerate at all. Matt Smith did the best with what he was given, but he wasn’t given much in the entire last run of his episodes after having some of the BEST episodes the previous two and a half seasons.

Best Premiere of a Major Companion: Honestly? Still gotta go with The Eleventh Hour, for both Amy and Rory and the great way they were both set up and the mysteries of the season.

Worst Premiere of a Major Companion: If you don’t count Asylum of the Daleks (which I thought was great) as Clara’s premiere, then it was definitely Clara’s “The Bells of Saint John”. No contest. I don’t think ANY of the rest of them were done poorly, TBH. I guess I’d have to go with “Rose”, because the Autons themselves are pretty meh and the plastic wasn’t great.

Best (Main) Exit of a Major Companion: This one is more difficult. Doomsday deserves a nod. Martha Jones walked the world and ended on her own terms. Journey’s End saw the end of an entire era of companions we loved. River showed up and died on the same day, but her final appearance is one of my favorite episodes ever. The Angles Take Manhattan was SO GOOD. But The Doctor Falls was exciting and tense and tragic. Hell, even Clara’s final episodes were great.

Honestly, this shouldn’t even be a question. I can’t choose. I can’t think of a single one I didn’t love.

Anyway, thanks for reading this, if you got this far! Know what? Doctor Who is still a great show, even if it’s not an obsession anymore. I can see myself doing this rewatch again in a few years, and I’m super looking forward to the next season starting in a couple of weeks!

#doctor who stuff #personal post tag thingy

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thesinglesjukebox · 5 years ago

Video

youtube

SELENA GOMEZ - LOOK AT HER NOW

[5.82]

The single at least one of you requested...

Ian Mathers: I say, I am beginning to get an inkling that this song intends us to think that it is subtextually referring to one Justin Bieber! [3]

Michael Hong: Proof that a breakup track doesn't have to be forced and predictable to demonstrate confidence. Chopped background vocals, a chorus that creates euphoria through its blurred loop, and Selena Gomez twirling the production around her voice like a loose strand of hair -- it's an amalgamation of Gomez's excellent 2017 singles, and an absolute earworm. [7]

Joshua Lu: Selena Gomez's comeback singles are like a display of Julia Michaels's range as a songwriter, a dichotomy that brings to mind Revival's "Perfect" and "Hands to Myself" -- or Nervous System's "Worst In Me" and "Pink." Julia's entire mainstream career beginning in the interim does affect the song's present-day freshness. But "Look At Her Now" paves new ground as much as it retreads old styles. Flattening synths push those "Issues"-esque string plucks into the backdrop, and Selena's stutters are more rapid and more nonsensical, and thus more captivating. It's quirky, catchy, and when those background vocals come in during the second chorus, surprisingly transcendent. Sure, Julia and Selena work an awful lot together, but can you fault them when their output is still this good? [7]

Thomas Inskeep: Sleek minimalist synth-pop fits Gomez better than more traditional top 40 pop/EDM; this sounds like the next logical step after her Talking Heads-sampling critical triumph/commercial flop from a couple years ago. Then you realize that Ian Kirkpatrick produced both this and "Bad Liar," along with Dua Lipa's superb new single, and it makes more sense. Now, how do we keep Gomez in this lane and away from losers like Kygo? [7]

William John: There's an explosive song hiding in here, and you can glimpse it occasionally -- in the flash of spidery synth during the first chorus, or at the very end where it all suddenly coalesces, as if a river has turned a bend and unexpectedly encountered the ocean. But it's shielded by muffles and hums, the curse of the anti-chorus, and the kind of frustrating restraint that, for me at least, plagued "Bad Liar". [5]

Katherine St Asaph: Selena Gomez's musical style, primarily Julia Michaels-written wallflowercore, hasn't much resembled a brash, confident kiss-off since "Come and Get It," let alone a song about a relationship between two people "a little too wild for each other." So how does she pull off one of those songs when her recent tabloid narrative breakup calls for it? By removing herself as much as possible. Most obviously, "Look At Her Now" is in third person, creating the same distancing effect as "This Is What You Came For": a song less about getting over someone than gazing, awed, at a girl who has. (So make of that what you will.) Michaels' lyric skims over the drama and past the infidelities -- the second verse, in its "an incident happened, neither good nor bad"-ness, sounds kind of like carefully phrased PR from a politician caught in an affair. Gomez's vocal does the same, emoting only intermittently and swallowing lines you might expect not to be swallowed, like "oh God, when she found out!" (To be fair, the cause may be the vocal comping being... noticeable.) The confidence is delivered by other voices, literally: samples of a child's bratty taunts, some chopped, wordless (and uncredited, obviously) toasting. Gomez is trying to have it both ways: writing a confessional, singer-songwriterly track that's still EDM- and R&B-adjacent, even if it means smothering a conversational vocal in so much processing and embellishment it no longer sounds conversational, or turning over the whole chorus to anonymous somebodies-else. Still, if dreary piano ballads have a low ceiling, wistful pop songs have a high floor. [6]

Oliver Maier: The third-person narration and Gomez's hushed, reverential delivery on the verses imply some kind of profundity that the mindless, irritating anti-chorus seems hell-bent on rebuffing. Maybe that's the point, by some galaxy-brain rationale. [3]

Natasha Genet Avery: I've always staunchly defended Selena Gomez, insisting that what she lacks in talent, she makes up for with excellent taste. After hearing these "mm-mms," I guess I'll see myself out. [3]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: God bless Selena Gomez for taking words thrown together in a blender and singing them with such bluster and joy that you don't have time to think about how ridiculous they are: "Once again, I'm yours in fractions," "You and me bleed the same light," "I'm slipping down a chain reaction,""Just like the Battle of Troy, there's nothing subtle here," "I've been running through the jungle, I've been running with the wolves," "Syncopate my skin to your heart beating," "Metaphorical gin and juice," "Bowery/Whiskey neat," "You are the thunder and I am the lightning," "Your lies are bullets, your mouth's a gun," "Let the chemicals do its stuff til the energy is too much," "Taki taki," pretty much every word of "Fetish." When Selena released a new dance track, I had my fingers crossed that I might get a shiny new toy, and boy, oh boy, did she not disappoint. "MM-MM-MM-MM-MM-MM-MM-MM...WOW" is everything I could have wanted it to be and more. She's gone post-verbal, folks! [9]

Alex Clifton: I thought the "mm-mm-mm" chorus was a cop-out the first time I heard it, but it fulfills the same function as the "ba-de-yas" of "September" -- words aren't necessary when you've got a song like this. It's deservedly smug and dismissive, perfect for deflecting any shards of bad memories from the past from her current happiness. If "Lose You to Love Me" was Selena at her most vulnerable, then "Look At Her Now" builds her back up into being the dance-queen badass that I always knew she was, but with the confidence to match. [7]

Jackie Powell: Ian Kirkpatrick's Jackson Pollock-style overdubbing of Gomez's and Michaels' vocalizations during the chorus places the listener dancing in the club rather than crying, and the heavy bass synth loop on the bridge adds color that complements the vocal brightness of "she knows she'll find love." The subject matter is a blatant follow-up to the introspective "Lose You to Love Me," but the wise writing from Julia Michaels and Tranter adds substance. This is the next stage of grief. Is it acceptance? I'm not sure. But the emotional snapshot is realistic and relatable. The couplet I'm drawn to the most is in verse two, when Gomez chants "What a thing to be human/Made her more of a woman" with the utmost conviction. The way she talk-sings the word "woman" is alluring but also so sanguine. In the Sophie Muller-directed visual, it's almost as if Gomez is channeling her inner Diana Prince in the1984 Wonder Woman poster; a blast of color coupled with a metallic outfit screams Amazonian energy. Apparently this is a track for her "ride-or-dies," which I assume would include Michaels. I mean, who wouldn't want to see them as Amazon goddesses? You must be related to Ares if you don't. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Selena Gomez #pop #music #music review #writing

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santa-ge-blog · 6 years ago

Text

The Poker Game - Sprace

Word Count: 2188

Summary: Racetrack was invited to play poker with the Brooklyn boys, and gets a little more than he bargained for while defending his king of poker title.

Read on AO3

------------------------------

“Hey Racetrack!” Race turned to the sound of his name and saw the famous Jack Kelly jogging over to him. School had just gotten out and Race was interested in going home, as he was onto his last lollipop, his stash that he kept in his backpack having run out. But Race always had time for Jack, one of his best friends. Race smirked and took his lollipop out of his mouth.

“Jacky, to what do I owe this meeting?” He said. Jack, panting slightly from the jog over, looked up at Race.

“I have a proposal,” Jack said. Race raised an eyebrow.

“I’m intrigued. What is this proposal?”

“Well, I need you to come with me to a poker match and show some guys up,” Jack said. Race raised both eyebrows at this. None of his friends played poker with him anymore, not after he would pick their pockets every game. But now he was being issued a challenge?

“Who with?” Race asked. Jack’s smile faded just slightly.

“Uh, well, it’s some… just some guys I know,” Jack said, evading the question. Race looked unimpressed. “Okay, so it’s some Brooklyn boys, I just don’t want you to be scared.” Race mocked an offended face.

“Me? Scared? Jack, you offend me! I have never been scared in my life! You’re talking to the guy who jumped off a roof onto a trampoline for only $5!”

“Yeah and you and Crutchie were buddies for the next month because of it.”

“Ah, but I got $5.” Jack rolled his eyes at this, and Race stuck his lollipop back into his mouth. “Text me the time and place Jacky, and I’ll be there to show those Brooklyn boys who the best poker player in the city is!” Race said proudly, plastic stick hanging from his mouth.

“So you’re in? No bribes?” Jack said. Race just smiled.

“Jack, I haven’t played poker with friends in forever! Plus I’m sure I’ll get what you would’ve offered me and more from these Brooklyn kids.” Race saw this as the end of the conversation, and turned away from Jack, giving him a little wave as he practically skipped down the street. This was going to be one hell of a game.

Race checked his phone. This was the place, some 50s looking diner with a fading neon sign. Race had dressed up slightly for the occasion, actually buttoning up his shirt all the way for once, but still had a sucker in his mouth as always, as well as a stash in his pocket. He took a deep breath before he entered, gathering a false confidence that he knew would come across as real confidence when he entered. Fake it ‘til ya make it, and he couldn’t be looking scared when facing off against Brooklyn. He’d heard that they were tough guys, especially the “leader” he had heard of, someone named Smock or Sock or something. But he doubted someone like Jack knew that guy. Race closed his eyes for a moment, and opened them with a new determination. He busted open the doors.

Inside, the diner was warm and homey. There was a jukebox in the corner playing some random song Race didn’t know the name of, and there were people there eating and talking. It wasn’t too full, except for one table that seemed to have a small crowd surrounding it. That must be the place, Race thought to himself. He walked towards the group, and as he got closer he could see through the crowd better to a small group of guys holding cards. One of them was Jack, who looked a bit sweaty as he glanced between his cards and the other guys around him. Race surveyed his competition. Only one of the guys really caught his eye. He was short, but took up a large amount of presence at the table. He had a stone poker face, looking permanently angry. And though Race is not one to stare, his eyes may have gotten caught on the mystery man’s arms. Boy, was he ripped. Race turned quickly away, fighting his blush. No being gay at poker night, he told himself. He snuck another glance at the guy’s arms. Okay, you can be a little gay at poker night, He corrected.

“I fold!” Jack said, throwing his cards down. This jolted Race out of his thoughts and back to the table. Some other guy folded, some guy matched the bet before, Hot Guy with the Nice Arms (That was his name is Race’s mind) raised the bet. Those two showed their cards, and Hot Guy with the Nice Arms looked to have one, and took the crumpled bills from the center.

“Hey Racer, you made it!” Jack said, having noticed Race’s appearance at the table.

“I wouldn’t miss winning a poker game Jacky,” Race responded smugly.

“This is my friend Racetrack, he’s gonna play a few rounds,” Jack said to the others. They glared at Race, already put off by his comment, but Race just smiled. The boys at the table introduced themselves.

“Hotshot.” “Sniper.” “Crunch.” “Stitches.”

“Spot.”

Race smiled at all of them, particularly Hot Guy with the Nice Arms, or as he was apparently named, Spot.

“Well boys, ready to play?” Race said as he took his seat.

“We’ve been playing for half an hour,” the one Race remembered as Hotshot said. Race’s smile became a little more dangerous at that.

“I guess I should rephrase. Are you boys ready to actually play?” Race responded. The room seemed to dim at little at that, eyes narrowing at the cocky newcomer. Race wasn’t phased. That was extremely important in poker; don’t get phased. Keep your face neutral, don’t let them know what you have or don’t have, and figure out their tell before they figure out yours. But Race had been playing a long time, and he didn’t have much of a tell. Spot raised his eyebrows as he shuffled the deck. He began to pass out cards. The game had begun.

Race figured Stitches out first. He was pretty easy, he pursed his lips when he lied, making it easy for Race to figure out he had nothing and raise the stakes. After that it was Sniper, who’s fingers twitched. Hotshot was harder, but he blinked a little funny after bluffing. After figuring out those three, Race swept the table most every time. Eventually they were betting some gift cards and candy as dollar bills ran out, and despite their best efforts, Race won again and again. His only competition was Spot, who he hadn’t figured out yet. But Race hadn’t been figured out yet either, so Race’s further experience in the matter gave him an advantage. However, every now and then Spot would have his way with the pot, and Race would frown just slightly.

It was getting late, and Hotshot, Sniper, and Stitches, tired of losing to Race again and again, had sat out the game. Jack had opted out a long time ago, knowing he would never beat Race, but revelled in watching Race beat the guys who had been kicking his ass for the past few weeks.

Despite the late night, the crowd had only gotten bigger at the final round. Race and Spot stared at each other from across the table. One face angry, one almost blank with calm, but there was a twinkle in his eye that only came with playing poker. Each kept throwing more and more on the table, getting more intense with every round. Race loved this, loved the adrenaline, loved the competition, loved the gambles and especially loved playing across from a guy as good looking as Spot was. Race was still intently looking at him every turn, trying to find the one thing that would give him away, but he still hadn’t. Until, in a single moment, everything went quiet for just a second and Race caught it.

It was tiny. Miniscule. No one would notice it if they weren’t really looking, but Race really enjoyed looking at Spot’s face, and in memoizing every detail, he saw one that was very important. Spot upped the bet, and as he did, Race caught him just barely biting the inside of his cheek, moving the skin ever so slightly. Race’s grin widened.

“Spot, I would like to raise the bet in a little bit of an unconventional way,” Race proposed. Spot raised an eyebrow.

“I’m listening,” He said, some of the only words he has spoken all night besides raise and fold.

“If I win,” Race said, “then I get to take you out on a date.”

The diner froze. The Brooklyn guys looked at each other, disbelieving. This scrawny guy from the other side of the bridge had just asked out Spot Conlon. The Spot Conlon. King of Brooklyn. Over a poker game. Even Jack looked terrified as he tapped Race on the shoulder and brought him in close.

“Racetrack… that’s Spot Conlon you just asked out. Ya know, King of Brooklyn, can knock you out with one punch. Toughest guy in Brooklyn?” Jack squeaked out. Race gripped his cards just a little bit tighter, but kept his face the same. So he was right, it was Smock or Sock or something. But Race had done worse for far less money. And Race was feeling lucky. He turned away from Jack.

“So Spot, what do ya say?”

“What’s in it for me?” Spot replied. Race hadn’t really thought about that part, but it wasn’t too hard to figure something out.

“How about everything I’ve won from all your boys? Every single penny, card, stamp, paperclip, everything. I’ve barely bet half in this game,” Race said. Everyone’s breath tightened. That was a pretty huge bet. And if Race lost, then he would likely never recover. He wouldn’t be seen at poker night again, losing everything in a single round like that. Well, that’s what the other boys were thinking at least. Race on the other hand, wasn’t even thinking about losing. He was thinking about where he and Spot would go when they went on the date Race was about to win. Well, as long as Spot said yes. The diner felt deathly silent as Spot weighed his decision.

“Alright Racer, you’re on,” Spot finally said. And gosh, Spot saying Race’s name was enough to make Race swoon, but he had already said he wasn’t allowed to be too gay at poker night, and honestly asking out your competition as a bet was pretty gay for poker already.

“Perfect. There’s my bet, you’ve taken yours. Let’s see your hand, Conlon,” Race said. Spot set down his cards and the table whistled. A full house. That was a pretty solid hand. But Race had seen Spot’s hesitation, seen him bite his cheek, and looking back at his hand, he smiled.

“Well Spot, I hope you’re free Friday, I know this great Italian place,” Race said, putting his hand on the table. The onlookers stared in disbelief. A royal flush. That beat a full house by a mile. Race took out a pen from his pocket, grabbed the ace from his set of cards, and wrote a string of numbers on it, sliding it across the table. Spot caught it, and picked it up. Race winked as he stood up, the crowd parting for the new poker master of New York. Race strut out of the diner, pockets full of cash and other various knick-knacks, with Jack, empty-pocketed, trailing behind.

“Racer, what the hell? How did ya know you’d win that?” Jack said in disbelief. Race wiggled his eyebrows a few times at Jack, unwrapping a cherry lollipop and sticking it in his mouth.

“I never reveal my secrets, Jacky!” he said with a smile. Jack rolled his eyes, but was happy nonetheless. They had just started the walk over to their cars when a voice called out.

“Hey, Racetrack!” Race turned around faster than he had in his life, recognizing the Brooklyn accent. Spot Conlon walked up to Jack and Race.

“Go on ahead Jacky, I’ll catch up with ya,” Race said, not even looking at Jack. Jack just nodded and walked away from the pair. “So, Spotty, what do you need on this fine evening? Can’t wait for our date on Friday?” Race said, pulling the lollipop out of his mouth.

Spot didn’t respond, instead electing to grab Race by his buttoned up collar and kiss him hard on the lips, just for a moment. He released the dazed Racer, smirking up at Race’s shocked expression.

“You taste like cherries,” Spot said, before turning around and walking back into the diner. Race stood in the parking lot for a moment longer, not believing what had happened. A buzz from the phone in his pocket brought him out of his daze.

Unknown Number: See you Friday

Race smiled and pocketed his phone, sticking his cherry lollipop into his mouth with a satisfied smile. He’d have to thank Jack for the invite to poker night. He’d won way more than he’d bargained for.

------------------------------

This is my first newsies fic and now my first fic posted on tumblr! A sequel is in the works, so stay tuned!

Read on AO3

#newsies #sprace #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #spot conlon x race higgins #racetrack x spot #racetrack higgins x spot conlon #race higgins #jack kelly #crutchie morris #fanfic #sprace fanfic #sprace fanfiction

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those70scomics · 6 years ago

Photo

Links to the Rest of the Story: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 5, Outline for the End

Disclaimer: That '70s Show copyright The Carsey-Werner Company, LLC and Twentieth Century Fox Home Entertainment, LLC.

CHAPTER FOUR THE SQUARE

Donna, Hyde, and Fez had taken the alcove in trigonometry class. That would hide them from Ms. McGee, but Eric managed to hide himself from them. He'd sneaked into a desk behind the alcove, to the left of Fez. They were so distracted by their own conversation that they didn't spot him. “She's gonna interview the moron,” Hyde said. “What, like a job?” Donna said, and Eric kept his head down and pretended to take notes. The angel had warned him this morning to listen. Convincing Donna he was a sociopath took two days. He had five days to undo that damage. Hyde flicked his pencil against his desk. “Dating Jackie's not a job, man. It's slave labor.” Donna laughed, but Fez said, “We can't let them get back together.” “Yeah, we gotta sabotage that 'interview,'” Hyde said. “Jackie's like a termite. She's gonna chew on our house 'til it collapses.” “I think you're mistaking her for my new neighbor,” Donna said, and the tip of Eric's pencil broke. His fingers ached from holding onto the pencil too hard, and he rummaged in his backpack for a pen. “He's a psycho. Certifiable.” “Forman?” Hyde wrote something in his notebook. “He's harmless.”

“Harmless people don't spread rumors,” Donna said and wrote in her notebook. Ms. McGee must've given a vital piece of trig info, but she might as well have been absent. Eric's focus was wholly on his friends who weren't his friends. “He didn't do that,” Hyde said. “He just told Jackie that garbage about Kelso, just like I tried to warn Forman about Jackie. Looks like he didn't take my advice, though. Timmy saw them foolin' around in the make-out alcove yesterday.” Eric's stomach clenched with nausea, and he pressed his knees together to keep from defending himself. Him and Jackie fooling around? How could these people have such a total lack of understanding of who he was? Because in this life, he was closer to making them his enemies than his friends. The line between like and dislike was thinner than he’d imagined. Maybe that was why Donna rejected his promise ring in their other life. He'd crossed the line inside her mind from love to, “Sometimes I see you in my future, and sometimes I don't.” Fez slammed his palms against his desk. “She was Frenching Junior? So she will make out with the skinny new kid but not the lovable foreign kid?” “Wait a second,” Donna said. “Why is she ‘interviewing' Kelso if she's swapping spit with Eric?” “Maybe 'cause Forman's a lousy kisser. Probably scared her back to Kelso.” Hyde puckered his lips and made kissing sounds at Donna. She planted her hand on his cheek and shoved his face away. “Are you trying to scare me off?” “Don't judge something 'til you've tried it.” “Whatever,” she said, but she was chuckling, and Eric silently thanked God. She and Hyde hadn't kissed. They weren't together, not yet. The school bell signaled the end of class. Eric left his desk and bolted from the classroom. If Donna learned he'd spied on her discussion, it would only confirm her suspicions about him. She didn't have the context for his actions, his reasoning. He'd been worthy of her affection once, but she wasn't offering any opportunities here. He had to make them. In what seemed like an extra-long homeroom, Mrs. Bridges droned the school announcements. Eric had moved behind Jimmy Headgear after roll call. Jimmy was twice the width of Eric, like many people were, but Eric used their difference in size to conceal himself. He didn't need Hyde giving him crap for “fooling around” with Jackie. “Forman.” Eric groaned at Hyde's voice. Hiding in the science lab was impossible. A tap on his shoulder followed, and he turned around. “Hyde.” “Your girlfriend's gonna take Kelso back,” Hyde said. “My girlfriend?” Eric had to play dumb. Hyde couldn't know how much Eric already knew. “The chick you shared tongues with yesterday.” Bile rose on Eric's throat. “What are you taking about?” “You know what I'm talkin' about...” Hyde grasped his belt buckle and widened his stance. “And even though it sickens me to give you this bit of intel — 'cause you're only gonna end up screwing yourself — we want the same thing: Jackie and Kelso to stay broken up.” He glanced behind himself, as if worried someone was eavesdropping, and he lowered his voice. “If you plan on fighting for the girl of my nightmares, go up to the art studio after school.” “Thanks?” “No problem — and we never talked.” He punched Eric on the arm lightly before leaving him. Eric rushed from the science lab after homeroom, and people whispered to on another as he strode down the hall. That rumor about him and Jackie had probably spread through school. If anyone was a sociopath, it was Timmy Wilson, Point Place High’s version of a town crier. But Eric had to finish what he'd started, to help Jackie see Kelso's true nature. By doing that, maybe Donna would finally realize who Eric actually was.

Double-English consisted of an hour-and-a-half of Fez's angry stares. Eric couldn't prove he hadn't kissed Jackie, not without Jackie herself denying it, so he didn't bother responding. Instead, he wrote down all he remembered about Donna: her favorite food, music, and TV shows. The social causes she was passionate about. The bizarre crap her parents had pulled during her childhood. He continued his list during study hall. Donna had another class, and he didn't see her again until lunch. In the cafeteria, he spotted her in the serving line. She must have caught his gaze because her mouth opened slightly, and she looked away. Posters for the school's extra-curricular assembly were taped to the walls. The assembly would take place on Friday in the gym. If Donna wasn't talking to him by then, he'd have to take drastic measures. She'd find out just what she was missing.

“Hey, Buddy,” Eric said at Buddy's table. The seat across from him was empty, as if Buddy had saved it purposely. “Mind if I...?” “It's yours.” Eric sat and pointed at the macaroni and cheese on his tray. “Do you think this is safe to eat?” “If it isn't, we're both in trouble.” A blob of yellow balanced on Buddy's fork. He stuck it into his mouth, and his face didn't contort as he chewed. The flavor had to be decent, and Eric began to eat. “So,” Buddy said, “you struck out with the redhead and decided to go for a brunette?” “Man!” Eric dropped his fork. “I didn't kiss Jackie Burkhart.” “Are you sure?” Eric jerked back his head, as if Buddy had kicked him in the balls. Of course he was sure. Why the hell wouldn't he be sure? Unless the angel was tampering with his memory. Buddy laughed. “Relax, Eric. I'm messing with you. I mean, if brunettes are what you're into...” He gestured to his own hair. “Not even a question,” Eric said. “I'd kiss you over Jackie any day.” Buddy glanced down at his mac and cheese, but a smile slid across his lips. The table was full of the same people as yesterday, all rich and popular. Timmy's gossip-mongering must've reached them, too, but they acted like Eric and Buddy were in a Cone of Silence. Eric's alleged lip-lock with Jackie couldn't be that interesting to them. She was a sophomore, and he was new.

Eric drummed his fingers on the table and scanned the cafeteria. Pam Macy had to be sitting somewhere. He didn't have history today, and that was their only class together. Confirming their deal would settle his mind a little, but his debt to Buddy tugged on him like the Force. Because he did owe Buddy. His friendship these last few days — and even now — was keeping Eric sane. “Hey, is there anything I can do for you?” Eric said to him. “You've been really nice to me, kind of like a guardian angel—” He smirked, hoping the angel heard that. “And I want to repay you.” “Actually, there is something,” Buddy said. “We'll probably have our first lab in chemistry today or tomorrow, so how about being my lab partner?” “You've got it.” Eric swallowed too-big a bite of mac and cheese. It got stuck halfway down his esophagus, and he forced it into his stomach with some water. “Speaking of Mr. Frisch,” he said, rubbing his throat, “have you noticed how gets sidetracked? Like yesterday, he was talking about about the atomic weight of helium, and then he went into how he used to work with weather balloons.” Buddy hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Jeez — yeah! He's a rambler. That's why I need you as my lab partner. Someone has to teach me chemistry.” Eric chuckled but slouched in his seat. His shoulders were more tense than they'd ever been, but the familiarity of their conversation was soothing. In his other life, he and Buddy had talked many times. He absorbed this moment. Took solace in it. Because, for these few minutes, he wasn't lonely. Losing Donna had a brought an isolation he'd never experienced, and that was just the first night. Worse, the isolation had followed him here, like a bad odor he couldn't wash off. If he went back to his other life without that kiss, what would become his friendships? Would Hyde, Kelso, and Fez feel torn between him and Donna? If they did, who would they choose? Buddy's gaze rose above Eric's face. Eric looked over his own shoulder, but a pair of breasts blocked his view. They were clothed in a tight-fitting blouse, and Pam Macy's voice floated into his ears: “Do you have it yet?” She meant her history homework, and Eric said, “Yes, and you'll get it when you meet me at the designated time and place.” “What?” she said. He sighed. Deviousness didn't always translate into other kinds of intelligence. “The art studio after school. Uphold your end of our bargain, and I'll uphold mine.” Pam left without a word. Eric's gaze lingered on her backside as Buddy said, “And that was about...?” Eric turned toward him. “It's all very tangled.” “Gotta say I'm impressed.” Buddy tapped his fork on his tray. “You move fast, making a deal for a quickie in the art studio.” “I didn't—” Eric leaned his head back and inhaled through his nose. His whole body was buzzing, but he'd never act on his physical attraction to Pam. It was an unconscious, chemical reaction. He was seventeen. Thoughts occurred to him, but Donna owned the landscape of his mind. With one word, she'd laid it to waste. With one kiss, she'd restore it.

Eric explained what he could to Buddy in chemistry class, told him about the Rundgren tickets. They did have their first lab today, and they'd partnered up.

“So you sold your soul for a concert?” Buddy said.

“Pretty much.” Eric had copper wire in his hands, and he wound it into the shape of a ball. “But those tickets are my way out of hell.” Buddy didn't question him. He measured nitric acid in a beaker, and they focused on the experiment. On their way to Spanish class, though, he said, “Tell me how it goes with Eric's Angels tomorrow.” “Sure.” Eric wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. He was less than two hours from guaranteed Rundgren tickets. But he tried to prepare himself mentally for any mishaps. Pam might flake out on him — or Kelso might flake out on Jackie. But after Eric sat at his desk, Kelso charged into the classroom and headed straight for him. “You,” Kelso said and gripped the sides of Eric's desk. “Don't follow me around today, or I'll kick your ass.” Fez's face appeared by Kelso's shoulder. “Yes, don't follow him.” Buddy stood up from the desk beside Eric's. “You kick his ass, and the whole football team will kick yours.” He jabbed his thumb at his chest. “Guess whose dad funded their new uniforms this year?” “Ai...” Fez scurried to the other end of the classroom, but Kelso glared at Eric on his way to his desk. He should've kept his eyes forward, however, because crashed into Mr. Soto. “Sorry,” Kelso said. “En español,” Mr. Soto said. “Lo … sorry-o?” Mr. Soto scratched both his hands through his short-cropped black hair. “¿Cómo te metiste en mi clase?”

“I walked,” Kelso said. Mr. Soto waved him away and muttered to himself in Spanish. Kelso sat at his desk and seemed to forget Eric for now, but Eric leaned toward Buddy and whispered, “Thanks for the backup.” “De nada,” Buddy whispered back. Eric wiped his palms on his jeans again and several more times throughout class. It was a futile endeavor. By gym class, he was coated in sweat, and Coach Ferguson hadn't even started drills yet. Students were still entering the gymnasium. New arrivals palled around with people who'd come earlier, and several minutes later, Coach Ferguson blew his whistle. “Everyone get in your squads!” Students scrambled to arrange themselves in their preassigned groups. Eric's squad was lined up beside Kelso's, and Kelso nudged Eric's shoulder. “I told you not to follow me around!” Eric didn't respond, except to avoid Kelso as much as possible during the torture inflicted on them. Coach Ferguson had them sprinting around the gym, tossing basket balls from ridiculous distances, defending the hoop from classmates who were taller and more muscular. The matches were uneven and unfair, but, “Life is unfair, you pansies!” Coach Ferguson often reminded them. Class ended with Eric wanting to collapse. Coach seemed more sadistic in this life, or maybe Eric simply wasn't slacking. His lungs burned as he climbed the stairs to the art studio. His legs were shaking, and after three flights, his quads began to spasm. He stopped and gripped the banister. Kelso needed more of a head start anyway. Pam was waiting for him on the fifth floor. She'd changed tops. Her breasts were now clothed in a blouse made from thinner material. Their shape was easily distinguishable, not that the blouse's neckline left much to imagine. “Only one girl is in there,” she said, gesturing to the art studio door. “I thought this was a contest.” “The other girls will be here soon,” Eric said. He pushed open the door and let her go ahead of him. “But you're sure to win.” At the center of the studio, Kelso and Jackie were sitting on stools. A row of easels acted as a barrier, cordoning off the pottery area from the painting area. Kelso and Jackie had to be deep into the interview. Neither of them reacted as Eric led Pam toward them. “Stand here,” Eric said and positioned her by a canvas-drying rack. It was directly in Kelso's eye-line. “—an astronaut,” Kelso said, finishing an answer to one of Jackie's questions. Only the back of Jackie was visible to Eric, but the stoop of her shoulders revealed enough. She wasn't pleased, and her tone grew strained as she asked another question. “If I take you back, and I caught you kissing another girl, what would you do?” “Uh … boobs,” Kelso said. He’d discovered Pam. His gaze was squarely on her chest. “'Boobs'?” Jackie repeated. Kelso nodded while looking at Pam. “Big ones.” Jackie waved her hand in front of his eyes. “Michael, I asked you a question.” “Just a second, Pam—” Kelso's eyes widened, and his gaze shot to Jackie. “I mean Jackie!” “This is your chance,” Eric whispered to Pam. “Kelso's one of the judges. Woo him.” Pam strutted toward the center of the art studio. She walked around Jackie and brushed her hip against Kelso's arm. “Hi, Kelso.” He jumped off the stool. It fell in the process, and Eric cupped his mouth as Kelso smashed his body into Pam's. She stumbled back a step, but he put on a deeper voice and said, “Hey, Pam. What's going on?” “Michael!” Jackie stood and shoved Pam aside. “Oh, my God, you would have cheated on me, you — you cheater!” She slammed her foot into Kelso’s shin and fled the studio. He doubled over as a cacophony of, “Oh!”s and “Ouch!”s rose from behind the easels. Shoes Eric recognized filled the spaces between the easels legs. Jackie and Kelso had been watched by an audience, and Eric said, “Okay, time to come out!” Hyde, Donna, and Fez emerged from their hiding spot. Hyde was laughing, but Pam strode to Donna and looked her up and down.

“So, you were checking out the competition?” Pam said and glanced back at Eric. “She should be disqualified.” Donna squinted. “Disqualified? What?” But Pam continued talking to Eric. “It doesn't look like any other girls are coming, so who won?” “You,” Kelso said and rubbed his shin. “You totally won.” “Won what?” Hyde said. Fez clutched his heart and frowned. “Jackie may be a spoiled, whiny princess, but she has won my heart.” He slapped the back of Kelso's head. “You don't deserve her, you sonuvabitch!” He poked Eric in the chest. “Neither do you, Junior from Janesville!” He darted from the art studio, probably to chase after Jackie. Kelso, though, seemed to have forgotten Jackie altogether. He stood up straight and closed the distance between himself and Pam. “Pam, would you do the honor of making out with me behind the gym?” Pam stared at Eric, and Eric said, “Yeah, yeah. Chemistry homework. You're the winner.” He pulled Pam's history notebook from his backpack and passed it to her. “You've earned this.” Pam gave him a snotty smile and grabbed Kelso by the shirt. “Let's go.” “All right!” Kelso said.

He followed her like a puppy out of the art studio, and Eric pulled on his collar to air himself out. His dirty deed was done. With any luck, Kelso would leave him alone the rest of the week. “Don't you see what's going on here?” Donna said to Hyde. “Eric brought Pam here on purpose to sabotage Kelso.” “And it worked.” Hyde offered Eric a high-five. “Good job, man.” Eric accepted the triumphant, stinging slap to his palm, but it didn't feel like victory. Donna was scowling, and she smacked Hyde's arm. “Aren't you pissed?” she said. “Why? He did what we were planning to do, only he had an actual plan.”

She seemed unconvinced and turned toward the easels, and Hyde said, “Forman didn't force Kelso to stick his face in Pam's rack. He did that all on his own. He proved Forman right.” “I guess so...” She ran her finger along the top of an easel. Maybe she’d listen to Eric now — and understand he wasn't a headcase but someone who tried to help people. He willed Hyde to leave him and Donna alone, but Hyde slung his arm around Eric's shoulders instead and thumped him on the chest. “You are one sneaky bastard. Knew I liked ya for a reason. But if you go after Jackie, you're dead to me.” “I told you,” Eric said, keeping his gaze on Donna, “I don't want Jackie. I'd rather make out with a steaming-hot furnace.” Hyde's arm dropped away from him. “Then what was that crap in the make-out alcove?” “Jackie shoved me there for a private conversation, and that's all we did. Talk.” Eric indicated the art studio and everything that had just happened there. “All this was her idea. She wanted to see for herself what Kelso's like around other girls. I said fine because I'd already interfered in her life...” and because Jackie agreed to get him Rundgren tickets, but he left that part out. Donna struck an easel, and it clattered on the floor. “I don't believe you,” she said and marched past him. “You're not just a sociopath. You're a pathological liar.” “Hey, hold on a minute—” He got in front of her before she could leave the studio. “Why don't you ask Jackie before you pronounce me guilty?” “Man's got a point,” Hyde said. “Shut up.” She side-stepped Eric and disappeared through the door. Pressure built up in Eric's chest. He inhaled a few non-calming breaths, found the nearest stool, and tossed it to the floor. “Damn it!” “Don't take it personally,” Hyde said. “She can be a hothead.” “She hates my guts. Doesn't get more personal than that.” “She'll come around, especially with me vouching for ya.” Hyde righted the stool Eric had thrown. He did the same for the one Kelso had been sitting on — and for the easel Donna had hit. “Sorry for bein' a dillhole yesterday. Turns out Kelso's a moron and a cheater. Jackie's better off without him … and we're sure as hell better off without her.” Eric's throat hurt. His voice was sure to squeak if he spoke, so he stayed silent. This Hyde was so much like Eric's, but enough differences existed to be jarring. This Hyde seemed to take school more seriously, to respect it. That had to be Donna's influence. Hyde slapped a stool as if it were a conga drum, creating rhythmic beat. “Say, you ever smoke-up in Janesville?” “All the time,” Eric said. The high-pitch of his voice sent blood into his neck. Hyde probably thought he was lying. “Me and my friends used to have circles once a week.” Hyde quirked up an eyebrow. “How'd you like to have your first circle in Point Place?”

Hyde's house was as disheveled as Eric remembered. Stuffing spilled from the couch. Dirty clothes were strewn on the floor, and cockroaches skittered over them. Hyde's mom was out at a bar. She wouldn't be home for hours, Hyde said, but Eric's answer to him came much later. His lungs and mind were saturated with pot, and he coughed out white smoke. “You should come live with me,” Eric said. “This place is a wreck. You'll like my basement a lot better.” Hyde pulled the joint from his mouth and laughed. “Man, you're stoned as shit.” He was sitting in Bud’s old armchair while Eric had the couch. They seemed to be hundreds of yards apart, but that had to be an affect of the pot. “Stuff in Janesville ain't as good as this, huh?” Hyde said, nodding at the joint. “No, I mean it, man,” Eric said. Someday Hyde's mom was going to leave him forever, but Eric had enough sanity to change topics. “I once told my girlfriend I love cake.” “You have a girl?” Hyde pinched the end of the joint, extinguishing it. “What's she like?” “Smart. Probably too smart. We broke up.” “Sorry to hear that, man. Your love of cake have anything to do with it?” Eric leaned back on the couch and stared up at the peeling ceiling. “We both wanted different things. That's how I ended up here.” “Your whole family picked up from Janesville 'cause you broke up with a chick?” Hyde chuckle-coughed. “Don't buy it.” “Oh, yeah? Would you buy that an angel came to me a few hours after D — after my girlfriend gave back my promise ring? That he sent me to a different version of my life to win my girlfriend back?” Eric sat up straight when Hyde didn't answer. Hyde had propped his legs on the foot stool, and his hands were clasped over his belt buckle. He didn't seem to be breathing. His chest didn't rise and fall, and Eric got off the couch and approached him. “Hyde?” Eric said, but Hyde didn't appear to hear him. If he was asleep, Eric couldn’t tell. Hyde’s eyes were hidden behind his sunglasses. A lone lamp lit the living room, but the bulb was dim. Eric snatched the sunglasses off Hyde’s face, and Hyde didn’t react at all. His eyes were wide open and unblinking.

Eric staggered backward and tripped on a rumpled T-Shirt, but his body remained upright. He should've dropped to the floor. “What the hell?” “Try what the Heaven,” the angel's voice said behind him, and Eric turned around. “You can't go telling people an angel sent you here. Didn't I mention that?” “No.” “Well, I'm mentioning it now.” The angel took Hyde's sunglasses from Eric and replaced them on Hyde’s face. “So — what? You froze time?” Eric shut his eyes and pressed his palms into them. This couldn't be real. None of it was. He had to be dreaming one very long dream. A sharp, tickling sensation spread over his chest, as if a thousand spiders were crawling on him. Donna couldn't have broken up with him. She was still wearing his promise ring on her finger and happy about it. He sprinted to the front door and flung it open. The air outside was crisp and stung his lungs as he inhaled deeply. “Wake up!” he shouted on the porch. “Wake up, damn it!” “You are awake,” the angel said beside him. “Bull!” Eric grasped the angel's white suit jacket. “Send me back to my life, the one where Donna and I are together.” “I can't do that. You and Donna broke up.” “We didn't.” “You did.” The angel glanced down at Eric's fingers. “Jostle me all you like, but it won't change what happened between you and her. You have free will, Eric. So does she. If she doesn't want to be with you in this life, in that life, then you have to accept it.” “No!” Eric shoved the angel, but the angel remained where he was. Eric, though, flew backward and fell on his butt, near Edna's potted plants. “I couldn't keep her,” he said, and the pain in his voice rose to his eyes. “I tried everything, and she still left!” The angel moved closer but didn't offer him a hand. “Did you really try everything?” “I...” Eric swallowed the wet lump in his throat. He hadn't tried everything. Giving Donna that promise ring was supposed to lock her down, but she was like a tiger. Caging her would only piss her off, make her gnash at the bars, bite off his hand. “I have to make myself indispensable to her.” “Hmm.” The angel cupped his chin and looked at Eric as if he were a toddler having a tantrum. The disapproval burned through the haze in Eric's head. He stood up and went back inside Hyde's house. He sat down on the couch, clutched his knees, and said, “I pushed, and she reacted. All of this here — and all of that over there — is her reacting to me closing in on her.” “You're getting warmer,” the angel said in Eric's mind. Eric wiped his eyes with his sleeve and cleared his throat. “Thank you.” “You're welcome,” Hyde said, and Eric’s shoulders jumped. Life had shot back into Hyde's body without warning. “So why'd you really move to this crap-hole of a town?” “They shut down the auto-parts plant in Janesville,” Eric said. “But my dad got transferred to the one here. He's the best supervisor they've had, according to him, so...” “Thousands of people got laid off, but your dad caught a break.” Eric nodded. He'd caught a break, too. He had four more days to do better by Donna and get her back.

#That 70s Show #That '70s Show #Eric Forman #Donna Pinciotti #Steven Hyde #Fanfic #One Difference: The Angel Offers Eric Another Choice #Buddy Morgan #Fez #Eric x Donna #Michael Kelso #Jackie Burkhart #Eric and Donna

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newyorktheater · 6 years ago

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It was a good week to test your view of New York — the 1990s Bohemia presented in Rent Live on Fox (which was largely Rent Recorded), or the grittier view expressed by the city’s teenagers in “Generation NYZ,” part of Ping Chong’s Undesirable Elements series at LaMaMa? How about by the African-American playwrights of the Fire this Time Festival? The truth is, in some ways, all of these share the sardonic and romantic view of the city by Rodgers and Hart in the 1920s, as presented by Santino Fontana as part of the Lyrics and Lyricists series at the 92nd Street Y? (It’s very fancy on old Delancey Street, you know/The subway charms us so.)

Week in New York Theater Reviews and Previews

Generation NYZ

To the seven young performers who tell the stories of their lives in “Generation NYZ,” New York means subways and pizza and opportunity, but also cops and catcalling and homelessness.

They are all New Yorkers, but — as they recount for us over the course of 70 increasingly engaging minutes — either they or their parents or grandparents came from somewhere else. They tell, in other words, the story of New York, and of America.

.@BrandonVDixon, national treasure.#RentLive pic.twitter.com/RFzZ8ROjeq

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 28, 2019

Rent Live

I had worried that, in Rent Live, Fox television would ruin Jonathan Larson’s musical about bohemian life in the East Village of the 1980s by bowdlerizing it. I felt it worth watching anyway because its cast of celebrated young screen stars and recording artists would make the most of the catchy tunes.

As it turns out, it wasn’t the redacted content but rather a bad break and a series of poor choices that made “Rent” disappointing. And though the cast was clearly full of talent, only a few standouts brought it home in any memorable way. Brandon Victor Dixon, the one performer with the most live theater experience, floored us as Tom Collins,

We’ll Have Manhattan: Rodgers and Hart in New York

When at the age of 17 composer Richard Rodgers met 24-year-old lyricist Lorenz Hart in 1919, he instantly acquired “a career, a partner, a best friend and a source of permanent irritation.”

So Rodgers wrote, in one of the many tidbits Santino Fontana tells us in “We’ll Have Manhattan: Rodgers and Hart in New York,” Fontana’s celebration, as part of the 92ndStreet Y’s Lyrics & Lyricists series, of the hundredth anniversary of Rodgers and Hart’s partnership

God Said This

Leah Nanako Winkler was sitting on the couch in her mother’s hospital room in Kentucky while her mother was undergoing chemotherapy for a form of cancer called carcinosarcoma, when the playwright started writing what became God Said This. “It just came out.”

The play, now on stage at the Cherry Lane Theater through February 15, revolves around Masako, a Japanese-born mother who is undergoing chemotherapy for carcinosarcoma, and explores the effect of her illness on her family.

The Fire This Time Festival

Over the past decade, the annual festival, created to showcase early-career playwrights of African and African-American descent, has presented some of the first New York plays of such now-celebrated writers as Katori Hall (known for such later works as The Mountaintop and Our Lady of Kibeho), Dominique Morisseau (Pipeline, Skeleton Crew and the book for the forthcoming Broadway musical “Ain’t Too Proud”), and Jocelyn Bioh (School Girls or the African Mean Girls Play) .

This year’s offerings are not particularly political, although they do touch (often obliquely) on issues as varied as gentrification, immigration, protest, feminism, homophobia, and affirmative action.

Ruthie Ann Miles as Immigration Judge Craig Zerbe

The Courtroom

Elizabeth Keathley moved to the United State from the Philippines, married an American, and three years later registered to vote, even though she was not yet a citizen. As a result, the government ordered her deported.

“The Courtroom”is a re-enactment by Waterwell theater company of her deportation proceedings, using the transcript as edited by Arian Moayed, directed by Waterwell’s artistic director Lee Sunday Evans, with Ruthie Ann Miles as Immigration Judge Craig Zerbe, and Kathleen Chalfant as Chief Judge Frank H. Easterbrook for the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit. The play is being presented for free through February 1 in a series of court-like settings

Red State Blue State

Near the end of Colin Quinn’s stand-up comedy, which promises to “lay bare the absurdities…on both sides of the political divide,” the Saturday Night Live alumnus manages to insult every single state of the union…It’s a baffling routine, almost tedious and even tacky…emblematic of Quinn’s enterprise….hit or miss and a missed opportunity.

Week in New York Theater News

Alanis Morissette

Anais Mitchell

Melissa Etheridge

Michael Jackson

“Jagged Little Pill” is coming to Broadway. The musical by Alanis Morissette @based on her 1995 album, put together after she was robbed at gunpoint. will open sometime in Fall, 2019, directed by Diane Paulus, who directed it for the American Repertory Theater last year. Cast, dates and specific theater to be determined.

When it opens on Broadway April 17, @Hadestown will feature the same cast that just appeared in London’s @NationalTheatre: left to r: @pagepatrick, #AmberGray, @Andre_DeShields, @EvaNoblezada @reevecarney pic.twitter.com/NgMmBsG3X4

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 28, 2019

.@metheridge will provide the score to a musical based on the 1988 movie Mystic Pizza, the first time we noticed Julia Roberts! MT They are writing the script now and I am looking forward to getting to work on it pic.twitter.com/3xMQCAfJwa

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 22, 2019

The Michael Jackson musical, @dontstoponbway (Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough) premieres Oct 29 – Dec at the James M. Nederlander Theatre (@broadwaychicago) before a 2020 Broadway run. Book by @Lynnbrooklyn ! Music by the King of Pop pic.twitter.com/jShiAsLdnk

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 23, 2019

.@AudraEqualityMc & Michael Shannon will star in a revival of Terrence McNally’s Frankie and Johnny in the Clare de Lune @fandjbway . Starts in May, 2019 for 16 weeks at a Shubert theater on Broadway. Details to come pic.twitter.com/2gHdflj3SG

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 23, 2019

Thanks @USPS for this new postage stamp of Broadway’s own Gregory Hines, Tony winner for “Jelly’s Last Jam.” He died in 2003 of cancer at age 57 pic.twitter.com/nbFRnATWel

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 28, 2019

Finalists for the 2019 Susan Smith Blackburn Prize, honoring women playwrights

Jackie Sibblies Drury

Ella Dickson

Lily Padilla

Martyna Majok

Nina Raine

Ella Road

Heidi Schreck

Lauren Yee

Hilary Bettis (U.S.)- 72 miles to go…

Jackie Sibblies Drury (U.S.)- Fairview

debbie tucker green (U.K.)- ear for eye

Ella Hickson (U.K.)- The Writer

Martyna Majok (U.S.)- Sanctuary City

Lily Padilla (U.S.)- How to Defend Yourself

Nina Raine (U.K.)- Stories

Ella Road (U.K.)-The Phlebotomist

Heidi Schreck (U.S.)- What the Constitution Means to Me

Lauren Yee (U.S.)- Cambodian Rock Band

.@magicmikebway, a musical that’s touted as a prequel to the Magic Mike movies, Nov 30, 2019- Jan 5, 2020 @EmColonial in Boston prior to an expected Broadway run. Music by the Next to Normal team pic.twitter.com/JfC6gyXU3e

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 24, 2019

the third annual WOW – Women of the World Festival. March 12-17@ApolloTheater “Performances, conversation, activism.”https://t.co/3x7F0eP5yM pic.twitter.com/1y10Y8S7I2

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 24, 2019

House Seats, a series that’s part of @ThirteenWNET‘s forthcoming streaming service @AllArtsTV, will launch Feb 3 w/ screening of @TheaterofWar‘s #AntigoneinFerguson. I saw the play in a playground in Brownsville in 2017, & wrote about it for @HowlRound:https://t.co/iDapHiXSxP pic.twitter.com/fYEnCiOYCp

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 24, 2019

Applications to compete in the 2019 @RogerReesAwards for Excellence in Student Performance are being accepted until Feb 4 at https://t.co/gAN1zmqZBa pic.twitter.com/t6dFM5X7gv

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 24, 2019

What Should We Do About Scandalous Artists? Accusations of misconduct against beloved creators are changing the way we think about genius

today as in the past, one of the most visible ways that our culture negotiates changing ideas about morality is by thinking about art and artists. Is an artist’s work tainted by his personal wrongdoing? Should we give honor and respect to people who excel in their art but are deficient in what we consider ordinary morality? These questions have been at the heart of modern thinking about art since the 19th century; but since the advent of the #MeToo movement, they have begun to receive new kinds of answers.

if Oscar Wilde’s case were being tried today, he might once again be widely scorned—not because the prostitutes he patronized were male, but because they were young, poor and powerless. The hostile gossip that surrounded him at the time, English critic Kate Hext writes, “would be nothing compared to the long lenses and comments section of Daily Mail Online, or the verdicts of social media.”

REST IN PEACE

RIP Kaye Ballard, 93, Broadway veteran (The Golden Apple, Carnival, The Pirates of Penzance), familiar face on TV, funny lady. She was impersonating Maurice Chevalier at age 5)https://t.co/6cMmnOm1ji pic.twitter.com/yfSs5MZk1L

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 22, 2019

RIP JoJo Smith, 80, Broadway veteran, dancer and choreographer. @msdebbieallen‘s teacher, #JohnTravolta‘s dance consultant on #saturdaynightfever pic.twitter.com/URzdmuj9D2

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater)

RIP JoJo Smith, 80, Broadway veteran, dancer and choreographer. @msdebbieallen‘s teacher, #JohnTravolta‘s dance consultant on #saturdaynightfever pic.twitter.com/URzdmuj9D2

— New York Theater (@NewYorkTheater) January 28, 2019

Rockers on Broadway: Alanis, Anaïs, Melissa and Michael Jackson. New York on Stage: Rent, Generation NYZ, Rodgers and Hart. #Stageworthy News of the Week It was a good week to test your view of New York -- the 1990s Bohemia presented in Rent Live on Fox (which was largely Rent Recorded), or the grittier view expressed by the city's teenagers in "Generation NYZ," part of Ping Chong's Undesirable Elements series at LaMaMa?

#Alanis Morisette&039;s Jagged Little Pill coming to Broadway #Magic Mike coming to Broadway #Michael Jackson musical coming to Broadway #scandalous artists #Susan Smith Blackburn finalists #Women of the Wolrd Festival

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blackkudos · 7 years ago

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Katherine Jackson

Katherine Esther Jackson (née Kattie B. Scruse; born May 4, 1930) is the matriarch of the Jackson family.

Early life

Jackson was born Kattie B. Scruse in Clayton, Alabama to Martha (née Upshaw; December 14, 1907 – April 25, 1990) and Prince Albert Scruse (October 16, 1907 – January 21, 1997). When Jackson was four, her father changed his surname to "Scruse", and renamed his daughter to Katherine Esther. The eldest of two daughters, Jackson contracted polio at two but survived the disease. Effects of the disease left her with a noticeable permanent limp.

At four, Jackson's family moved to East Chicago, Indiana, an industrial city in northwest Indiana near Chicago. As a child, Jackson aspired to become an actress or country singer, but was dismayed to find that there were no notable black country stars. Jackson's parents divorced when she was still a youngster. While attending Washington High School, Jackson joined the local high school band. In 1947, Jackson met Joseph Jackson also living in East Chicago. Joseph obtained an annulment of an earlier marriage and began dating Katherine. After a year-long courtship, they married on November 5, 1949. In January 1950, they purchased a two-bedroom house in Gary, Indiana. During the couple's early years, they sang together, with Joe playing guitar. After Joe's dream of a boxing career was dashed, he continued working at nearby East Chicago's Inland Steel Company. From 1950 until 1966, Jackson gave birth to ten children, including a pair of twins, Marlon and Brandon, the latter of whom died a few hours after birth.

Jackson family

In the late 1950s, Jackson began working part-time as a store clerk in a local Sears in Gary. In 1963, Jackson, who was raised a Baptist, became a Jehovah's Witness. After her conversion in 1965, all of her children followed her into the faith. While Joe, who was brought up in the Lutheran faith, also practiced the religion, it was often said he decided not to convert. As Jackson's brood grew, she quit her position at Sears and settled primarily as a housewife, keeping her children closer to home. By the early 1960s, several of Jackson's sons began to show off their musical talents. In 1963, Joe formed The Jackson Brothers with three of their eldest sons, being Jackie, Tito and Jermaine. Around the same time, Jackson's younger son Michael was also showing off his talent, which was discovered first by Jackson, who noticed Michael, at the age of four, singing along to the radio while dancing to the rhythm. But when she tried to tell Joe of Michael's talent, he brushed her aside, though she insisted.

A year later, Joe enlisted Michael and older brother Marlon Jackson into the group not as vocalists, but as backing instrumentalists, playing percussion. It wouldn't be until 1966 that Joe began to see seven-year-old Michael's overall talents three years after Jackson's discovery. Beforehand, Michael had performed onstage without his father's knowledge at several school recitals starting at five. By the end of 1966, Michael was positioned as the second front man of the group after Jermaine. Acting on advice from a schoolteacher, Joe changed the group's name to The Jackson Five. In 1967, after winning several talent shows in Gary, Joe Jackson decided to make the group a professional act when Gordon Keith an owner and vocalist at Gary's Steeltown Records, discovered and signed them to their first contract with him on November 21. Their first single, "Big Boy", produced by Keith, was released on January 31, 1968. "Big Boy" became a local hit, playing on radio stations in the Chicago-Gary area. Jackson began designing the group's costumes, which she continued until the group found national fame months after signing with Motown Records in March 1969. During the Jackson 5's 1970–71 heyday, Jackson – along with her three daughters and youngest son – was barely mentioned in the press. This changed in 1974, when Joe began building careers around his three younger children and eldest daughter. Michael often mentioned Jackson lovingly. Jackson started to become part of her husband's management team when the grown-up members of the group (which renamed themselves The Jacksons after splitting from Motown in 1975) reunited for the Victory Tour in 1984. On his 1982 album, Thriller, Michael dedicated the album to her. Janet Jackson would do the same following the release of her 1989 album, Rhythm Nation 1814, the first album where she wasn't under the watchful eye of her father following the success of Control, as Janet had fired him months after its release. Michael often said that his mother was appreciative of his solo music and approved of songs such as "Billie Jean", but said she was cautious of Michael's mature material, including "Don't Stop 'til You Get Enough". In 1985, acknowledging what was then a positive impact on her children's successful music careers, national urban magazine Essence honored her as "Mother of the Year".

My Family

In 1990, Jackson released her autobiography, My Family, The Jacksons, which documented her early years and her relationship with her husband and their children, eight of whom wrote salutes to their mother in the book's foreword. She detailed that her husband on more than a few occasions had committed adultery. This prompted Katherine to file for divorce on March 9, 1973 at the Los Angeles County clerk but chose to rescind the divorce papers.

The following year, Joh'Vonnie Jackson, Joe's daughter with another woman named Cheryl Terrell was born on August 30, 1974. This led Joe and Cheryl to a 25-year affair while raising their daughter, Joh'Vonnie . Jackson attempted once again to divorce her husband in or around 1979, but again was persuaded to drop the action. Consequently, Katherine and Joe remained officially married.

In an unauthorized biography of Janet Jackson, a confrontational family incident was described. This biography claims that, in 1979, Jackson and her two youngest children, Randy and Janet, confronted a woman who worked for Joseph's company, whom Jackson had often reportedly accused of cheating with Joseph. That incident was re-dramatized for the 1992 miniseries The Jacksons: An American Dream. However, in the miniseries, Jackson was shown confronting Joseph instead of the woman about the alleged incident.

In the late 1980s, Jackson began experiencing an estrangement with her daughter La Toya after she was being managed by Jack Gordon. In her 1991 memoirs, La Toya: Growing Up in the Jackson Family, La Toya alleged that Jackson was emotionally abusive, charges Jackson denied to the press and blamed Gordon, who married La Toya in 1989, for "brainwashing" her. In 1997, La Toya and Jackson reconciled after she filed for divorce from Gordon.

Jackson was portrayed by Angela Bassett in the 1992 miniseries The Jacksons: An American Dream. Patricia Idlette portrayed her in the 2004 film Man in the Mirror: The Michael Jackson Story.

Recent years

Jackson has spent the last couple of decades talking to the press defending her children, mainly Michael, who began to gain notoriety. In a recent interview promoting her Michael Jackson vip Book/DVD on The Oprah Winfrey Show, however, Jackson acknowledged that got her husband to admit to physically disciplining their children. Over the years, it had been acknowledged by some that Joe was abusive towards his children, which he has continually denied despite admissions by both La Toya and Michael.

Jackson currently resides with the 3 children of her late son, Michael Jackson and with her grandson TJ Jackson, along with his family at her Calabasas, California, home in which she has been living since 2011. Jackson had moved out of her Hayvenhurst home in Encino, California due to house renovations.

Despite rumours that she is estranged from Joe, she has denied it and dismissed rumours that Joe was banned from The Jackson family home as false, and something the media had tried to cook up. According to her son Jermaine Jackson's 2011 book (You Are Not Alone: Michael Through a Brother's Eyes), Jackson had told Michael that she was nearing the age of 80 and before she died, she wanted to see her sons perform together one last time. One of Michael Jackson's future plans as part of his deal with AEG Live was a final reunion tour with his brothers. She most recently appeared at the BET Awards 2015 with daughter Janet Jackson as Janet accepted the Ultimate Icon Award.

Death of Michael Jackson

On June 25, 2009, Michael died from an overdose of propofol at the hands of his personal physician, Dr. Conrad Murray. Jackson, along with the rest of her family, attended his memorial on July 7, 2009. On June 29, 2009, Jackson was granted temporary guardianship of Michael's three children: Prince, Paris, and Blanket. Court documents indicated that she was also seeking control over the three children's interests in their late father's estate. Although Debbie Rowe, the biological mother of Michael's two oldest children, had not seen or interacted with the children for years; as of July 4, 2009, she petitioned the courts for custody of her children. On July 30, 2009, Jackson and Debbie Rowe reached a settlement pertaining to the care of Michael's children – Prince, Paris, and Blanket – will be raised by Katherine; Rowe will have visitation rights and continue to receive the yearly payments to which Michael had agreed.

On August 3, 2009, the judge named Jackson as the children's permanent guardian. On July 25, 2012, Jackson's guardianship of the children was suspended by the court amid allegations that she may have been held against her will by several Jackson family members as a result of a financial dispute between those family members and the Michael Jackson Estate. Guardianship of the children was temporarily given to Michael's nephew, TJ Jackson, one of Tito's sons. The guardianship resumed with TJ Jackson added as a co-guardian.

Children

10 children, 7 sons and 3 daughters were born to Katherine and Joe Jackson.

Maureen Reillette "Rebbie" Jackson (born May 29, 1950)

Sigmund Esco "Jackie" Jackson (born May 4, 1951)

Toriano Adaryll "Tito" Jackson (born October 15, 1953)

Jermaine La Jaune Jackson (born December 11, 1954)

La Toya Yvonne Jackson (born May 29, 1956)

Marlon David Jackson (born March 12, 1957)(Brandon was Marlon's twin brother).

Brandon Jackson (March 12, 1957 – March 13, 1957)

Michael Joseph Jackson (August 29, 1958 – June 25, 2009)

Steven Randall "Randy" Jackson (born October 29, 1961)

Janet Damita Jo Jackson (born May 16, 1966)

Wikipedia

#Katherine Jackson #05-04

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crunchie-morris · 7 years ago

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A dumb short thing written in a vain attempt to end my freaking writer's block

“Ahh.” “Sorry.” “It's okay.” “Ahh.” “Sor-” “No, no, it don't hurt, the ice is just cold.” Jack lifted the ice pack he had pressed to Crutchie's face to get a peek at his swollen eye. “You gotta be more careful.” “Hey, ya shoulda seen the other guy,” A sideways grin spread across Crutchie's face. “He knows I'm not ‘just some lousy cr*p’ now.” Jack sighed. “You scare me, gettin’ into fights like this.” Crutchie scoffed. “Oh, like you ain’t never come back to the lodge with a bloody nose or a shiner, huh?” “Not as much as you do!” Jack argued. “C’mon, Crutch. You gotta take care of yourself.” “I am takin’ care of myself,” Crutchie replied. “He tried to beat me up and I defended myself. Hmm.” With that, he stuck his tongue out. Jack couldn't help but crack a smirk. “Dork.” “I know you are, but what am I?” Crutchie snickered. Handing Crutchie the bag of ice and picking up a warm washcloth to clean up the scrapes, Jack continued, “Look. I'm just askin’ you to stop giving me heart attacks when you come to the penthouse covered in blood and bruises.” “Alright,” Crutchie shrugged. “I'll go to Race then.” Jack rolled his eyes. “That ain't what I mean.” “When the world stops being a place where I gotta shed a little blood to keep myself safe, I'll stop scarin’ you.” Jack was silent for a moment. He glanced up at Crutchie, locking eyes with him. “The world sucks.” Crutchie scoffed. “Tell me about it.” Jack nodded. “New York sucks.” Crutchie snorted. “Tell me about it.” “We’ll get outta here, though,” Jack smiled. “Every day, we're a few cents closer to Santa Fe.” “‘Til then, I'll keep whackin’ thugs in the shin with my crutch.” Crutchie smiled back, swaying tiredly. Jack patted Crutchie's shoulder. “We should get to bed, kid.” Crutchie nodded. “I'm pooped.” He stood up and stumbled his way to the pile of blankets that served as a bed. Jack jogged to catch up to his uneasy walk. “Can ya make it?” Crutchie nodded. “Didn't get much to eat today, and I was just soaked. I'm just woozy.” Much to Crutchie's displeasure, Jack helped him the rest of the way and helped him slowly lay down. “I don't need you blackin’ out on me, alright?” “Yes, mom.” Crutchie rolled his eyes. “Now, get some sleep,” Jack ordered. “You need it, ‘specially after tonight.” Crutchie huddled up in his blankets. “Alright, mom, I hear ya. You want me to wear a sweater to my next fight?” Jack narrowed his eyes. “Shaddup.” Crutchie let out one last sleepy giggle. “This is...payback, y’know.” He yawned. “For a few weeks ago, when you soaked the Delancey’s after they kept calling me cr*p. You was...real messed up after that. Scared me that time, huh?” “Oh, so you got in a revenge fight?” Jack scoffed. “You pay some guy to soak you for payback?” “Mhm,” Crutchie mumbled. “If ya ever need a good soakin’...I know a guy. Love you, Jackie.” Jack shook his head, flipping open his sketchpad and adding more freckles to the portrait of that cheeky, tough little kid he’d been working on for a month. “Love you too.”

#c slur tw #blood tw #fighting tw #newsies #newsies fanfiction #jack kelly #Crutchie

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whenimgoodandready · 7 years ago

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What up Starlings!

O.M.G! That TV movie was AWESOME! Damn! All that magic and sadness and death! F*ck! This is what keeps me coming back! Did you guys miss me? (bats lashes). Well, here, in my new and improved reviews, you’ll be seeing A LOT more of these in the Fall. Like the new frames? Cute huh, I’m adding in pictures like I said. The new theme song opening looks good and we almost have all of Team Star in the end! (I’m waiting for Jackie, Alfonzo, Ferguson and Starfan13 to show up) and I’ve been reblogging promos and countdowns til the Season 3 premiere! Now, since The Battle for Mewni is a mass up of the first four episodes of Season 3 (Three 2 11-minute segments and a half hour one), I’ll be splitting them in groups. This’ll be a long one, so Enjoy!

*Return to Mewni-The beginning starts off where we last left off, Marco has fallen into a depression over Star gone and has become Miss Havisham and leaving the party decorations still up. Poor guy. Star was seeing the whole thing with her wand and once she came back to Mewni, she and her mother were dragging the Magic High Commissions dead bodies as balloons. That’s some dark comedy sh*t right there. They were on their way to a sanctuary where they’ll be revived (minus Lekmet). Unfortunately, the fritz was at it again and practically all magic is gone. Even the magic well springs that was supposed to bring the commission back is corrupted and Moon tries to stop Star from using her wand since she thinks its linked with the shard piece on Ludo’s hand now. It’s getting serious. Moon has no plan other than keeping Star outta harms way and hiding while carrying around Toffees finger, but Star gets upset by that saying they should just go out and fight Toffee. Moon says it’s too dangerous, but Star isn’t having any of it and tries to leave. Star sure is brave since this is the evil genius who almost killed Marco, but she thinks it’ll be easy like how she “finished him off” before, but it’s serious now. What we also learn here is Toffee killed Moons mother! Yes, the promo spoiled it for us, but yeah, he did. He killed Skywynne. Star only got the “dead dog farm” story of it, but now she knows. We also learn that Eclipsa, the Queen Formally Known As Spades, is alive! And that Moon made a deal with her! Yes, that was spoiled in the promo too, but damn it! We the fandom were starving for svtfoe!. Also, some one with eyes of a hawk saw that from “Crystal Clear”, so yeah.

*Moon the Undaunted-In here, we get the backstory on Moon when she was Stars age. Huh, looks like Skywynne wasn’t her mother (she had Butterfly cheek marks whereas Skywynnes was hourglasses). Well, that was a surprise to me. I didn’t see her in the tapestry room or the book (Star and Marco’s Guide to Mastering Every Dimension), but then again, either was that bunny girl. I don’t know how this family tree works. Anyways, her mother was already dead and she is now the new Queen. So much pressure on her as she doesn’t know what to do, so the commission tries to help. One half yells they should go to war with the monsters whereas the other half yells to sign the peace treaty with the monsters (and others yell just for the yelling of it) Finally, a young River says they should just let Moon decide what to do (FYI, he’s the only one on her side). Some dude named Count Mildrew says she should be grieving at this time, but she says she’ll decide later. I know the feeling of being put on the spot and not knowing what to say, especially if the people won’t shut up about it. It wasn’t pretty. There was this tiny love triangle goin’ on with Mildrew/Moon/River, but we know who the victor was (that Mildrew guy was so dramatic). She has Rhombulus take her to Eclipsas’s crystal imprisonment (I don’t know how they caught her when she fled with her monster lover or even where he is), so she can tell her how to do the dark spell, but if she does destroy her enemy (Note:Aim at the heart), Eclipsa will be free. Unsure about it, but desperate to get revenge for her mother, Moon agrees to it. Eclipsa was voiced by Esmé Bianco for those of you in the Game of Thrones fandom and like one fan suggested, she was the sweet and polite perky goth type. Is she really evil? We don’t know? Alls I know is she has black/purple veins on her arms hence the gloves (Moon gained those too when she made the deal which why she had the gloves too) and was stuck in the crystal for three centuries! Moon then goes over to enemy territory and asks for The General. Toffee was The General! TOFFEE WAS THE GENERAL! TOFFEE WAS THE GENERAL! Damn! No wonder he was boss-like! Before the peace treaty could be signed by Moons mother with the monster king, Toffee went rogue and killed the Queen. Don’t know why, but he did. When the monsters refuse to leave, Moon casts the dark spell and blasts Toffee’s heart finger!………yeah, she missed. (clap) That’s (clap) why (clap) he (clap) can’t (clap) grow (clap) it (clap), back! Once that happens, the monsters freak out and scurry away and Toffee just angrily walks away. Back then, the wand was in one piece, so the monsters had something to fear. Especially in the hands of someone capable. After that, Moon had to give up her teenhood and take responsibility as Queen making her the stern and mature woman she is now. Poor girl.

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*Book be Gone-In the end of the first hour of the TV movie, Ludo’s girls (eagle and spider) return to him and bring him tacos. Here’s what I’m confused about, how the Hell did they get to Mewni when they were last seen on Earth at the taco place last season? Seriously, how!?. Ludo wakes up and finds his wand now a part of his hand. For those of you who forgot, Toffee possessed him and killed off the Magic High Commission, so he’s left with a hangover from all that. We also find out that Glossaryck is still around! Ludo Toffee had told him to hide and he was now (and throughout the rest of that time) trying to roast pudding over a fire…………..you know, if I were him, I’d just jab a stick through the pudding cup and have boiling bubbling chocolate soup! But he was doin’ it the hard way. He tells Ludo “he (Ludo)” defeated the commission and wants to document it in the spellbook (ignoring his wand hand on goin’ after The Butterfly Castle). However, the spellbook resists Ludo trying to write in it, no matter how hard he tries. Apparently, he doesn’t own the book anymore (Toffee does since he’s now a part of Ludo, but he doesn’t know about it still). After being blasted by the book and walking hundreds and hundreds of lands to get back, Glossaryck says to just talk to the book……..XD THAT PART WAS HILARIOUS! He failed to understand the concept of “turning this car around” and was being so sincere and sweet with it. At first, I thought the book would actually talk back, but it turns out, XD Glossaryck was just screwing with him like he always does! Pissed off about it, he throws the book into the fire destroying it ALONG WITH GLOSSARYCK! AND HE SAW IT COMMING! (okay, so during the hiatus, I found out Glossaryck sees into the future which is why I think he’s so unfeeling and a trickster. There’s no surprise in life for him, so he makes them himself!). Toffee gained control of Ludo again to watch him burn and afterwards, Ludo was sad to see Glossaryck go. So now, we have another character dead. Damn! Well, he wasn’t really my fav character (or in the top five), so good-bye Glossaryck. His wand hand gestures to Butterfly Castle again and Ludo decides to attack it. Don! Don! Don!

*Marco and the King-With the castle under King Rivers watch, he spends the whole time partying with his subjects. Wake up, dive in pool, twirl glow sticks, chair wrestle with monkey, lather, rinse, repeat. Dude, your wife and daughter are out and possibly in danger and you’re throwing a castle party!? WTF!? But then I found out why (it’s his coping mechanism for his worries). Marco shows up with his dimensional scissors (which he oh so earned from “Running with Scissors” and getting over his depression) to give Star her fav cereal. Really Marco? That’s why you showed up? Are you sure it’s not cuz you miss her and not cuz you want her to have a nutritious balanced breakfast? And did he tell his friends, Jackie or even his parents where he’s goin? Do they even know he’s gone? IDK? He sees that with River partying all the time, he’s failed to see that his kingdom and people are living in filth and disaster as well as a monster outside of it! He tries to shoo away the monster, but that just makes him come toward him as the people freak out and call River out on being a lousy king. River then goes through his depression. Marco tries to ask where Moon and Star are (cuz he still doesn’t the know the danger that’s goin’ on), but apparently, they never told him where they were goin! WTF IS UP WITH THE BUTTERFLIES KEEPING EVERYONE IN THE DARK!? Okay, yes, an evil genius lizard guy possessing a little bird man with a magic wand hand is scary and you don’t want them to freak out, but you have to at least tell your husband! So Marco tells him to buck up and take charge since he’s all they have now. River gives his people a sort of Kings Speech and tells his subjects that they don’t need magic/weapons to stop the monster that’s getting closer now cuz they’re all great at whatever they do (huh, sounds like Stars speech to her classmates over the whole possum thing). This time, they cheer and charge toward the monster. River stands against it and it turns out, the monsters bad at reading hand gestures thinking the king asked him to “come here” instead of “go away”. Womp! Womp! Womp! XD That was hilarious too! Seeing it was a misunderstanding, the monster annoyingly walks away. River decides to throw one last party to celebrate all of them and they’re love for him returns………..then Ludo shows up!

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*Puddle Defender-Back to Star and her mother, they were still in the sanctuary, but the place got flooded up by the black goo from the magic well springs and were forced to leave the Magic High Commission to escape. With no safe place, Star decides to bring her mother and herself to Buff Frogs to crash. Moon was unsure about it since he’s a monster, but Star says he’s on their side. Buff Frog heard rumors that Ludo took over Butterfly Castle, but Star corrects him saying he’s actually Toffee possessing him. Moon refuses to have Star and herself leave to see if King River is okay and to stay put. Star secretly tells Buff Frog to distract her mother while she escapes to save her kingdom. He does so by playing board games (in a magical parody style of Hasbro gamings) with her. Can I just say how weird it is that Mewni has some modern things despite their dimension being medieval? I mean, they had vending machines WAY BACK during Eclipsa’s time (which was like Victorian era) and not to mention that Quest Buy place!? And yet, Star had no idea what a light switch was!? WTF!? During the game, Moon and Buff Frog get into a heated argument about which one of them is the “bad guy” of their people with Moon saying she’s actually scared for her husband and daughter trying to keep her safe and ends it by saying Buff Frog doesn’t understand cuz he’s not a good parent. OOOOOOH! Bad idea Moon, bad idea. Buff Frog gets offended by that cuz he reminds her he has tadpoles that he’s worried about them and to prove his parental status, he rats out Star JUST AS SHE WAS OUT THE DOOR and he and Moon send her upstairs. Star gets upset by all this and wants out, but Buff Frog had a security system put up (did he make it by hand or buy it?). However, the tadpoles, (who have now grown arms except Katrina) help her escape from a secret hatch in their room. Out of all of them, Katrina gained speech, but hadn’t told her father yet. They say they escape to go clubbing (uh, kids, how old are you guys?). When Katrina asks what Stars plan is, she says she’ll just wing it………..okay, as slightly mature as Star is now that she’s learned not to run away from her problems and to just face them, but charging in is still not a good plan! So she heads forth to her (former) castle………..possibly to her doom.

*King Ludo-With Ludo now king, he had River and Marco shackled in the dungeon while he fails at gaining the love from the Mewmens as his subjects. His merchandise isn’t even selling! (you know, Ludo, if the Mewmens won’t buy any of that stuff, we the fandom would be OH SO happy to take it off your hands, I mean, after all, we’re on the third season right now and we still got nothing out of it, all I have is the book! WE NEED THAT SH*T!). Ludo then goes over to River and gives him 24 hours to decide if he’ll help him or not at forcing the Mewmens to love him. Marco escapes through his shackles (Ludo had butter to slip the key around his neck that he left behind), but leaves River (he ate the butter >:( ). Marco goes through the air vent (yes, they have that on Mewni too) and crawls through until he gets to the royal bedroom. There he finds the castle entertainers: Ruberiot (Hello, Patrick Stump!), Fool Duke and a Mime. They tell him that since Ludo took over, they’ve been hiding around the castle and only come out when Ludo’s not around to eat/bathe/sleep in the royal bedroom. Marco tells them that they should do something about Ludo, but they’re just artists who all hate each other (well, Ruberiot and Fool Duke mostly, cuz they (and Ludo) say that only the Mime is an “artistic genius”. You know how on tvtropes.org they say Everybody Hates Mimes, fu*ck that, this one’s cool). When Ludo catches Marco, he quickly puts on a Ludo mask (which like every other merch of them was a “no sell”) pretending to be an entertainer, the others follow suit and distract Ludo with a song about how great he is while Marco tries to get the key around Ludo’s neck. Ruberiot and Fool Duke get into a fight and Ludo tries to seize them, but they escape (they got the key!). They return to River only for him to say that he wants to stay by his people. The entertainers escape through the sewers while Marco pretends to still be shackled and Ludo takes away River. Marco then escapes through the sewer too. River refuses to obey Ludo’s orders and so Ludo levitates him away (it’s the only spell he knows) in the sky! Is he dead too!? WHY IS EVERYBODY DYING!? Now the Mewmens fearfully are forced to love Ludo. Marco then tells the entertainers it’s now time to fight! WHOOP! WHOOP!

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*Toffee-Ludo continues to rule over Mewni and forces them to love even goin’ as far as putting up portraits of his “greatness” and having choir kids sing about it. Until, his wand hand levitates them into the sky. (sigh) another one bites the dust (what’s the matter Toffee, don’t like good music?). Are you guys keeping a death count in this cuz I think I counted six. Anyway, Star attacks Ludo (in a rat suit) demanding to know where her father is, but his spider retrains her (I had a dream days before the TV movie premiered that Star was tied up, and now, it happened! Weird, I have like psychic dream powers!). Star tries to tell Ludo that his wand hand (which she is now discovering) is Toffee controlling him, but he ignores her and throws her in the dungeon (he actually wanted to kill her, but his wand hand said otherwise). A guy in a mouse suit comes in and rescues her. IT’S MARCO! (huh, guess it wasn’t so stupid wearing an animal costume to attack since Marco thought of it too. Great minds think a-like!). After months of no starco (for us fans that is) ✨they’re reunited at last!✨🎶Reunited and it feels so good, reunited cuz you understood🎶 They don’t bring up the whole crush thing cuz they got more important stuff to deal with. She isn’t all that worried about her dad (he’s been through worse, but uh, Star, HE COULD BE DEAD!) and Marco calls up the entertainers saying they’ve become Le Resistance! Before they all could put they’re plan into action (which wasn’t really that good), Ludo shows up and shackles the resistance, but takes Star with him. He tells her she’s right about his wand hand controlling him and wants Toffee out cuz he’s freaked out by it! Star sees he’s serious and redoes The Whispering Spell! Buff Frog and Moon show up to rescue Marco, but leave behind the resistance (they really weren’t much help) and go find Star. She had already finished The Whispering Spell and 💥BOOM!💥 tower blows up! Marco, Moon and Buff Frog look through the remains and find Ludo, but with Star speaking through him. She’s inside the wand! The inside of the wand was filled with black goo! (Wait! Hold up! Daron, how does this wand thing work!? I mean, we’ve seen it as a treadmill for unicorns, an apartment for Stars spells and a memory world, but now a pool full of black goo!? Is it cuz of the corruption!? Even if I have the book I still don’t get it!). Star loses contact with her Moon and the pool makes a giant form of Toffee! (you know, on the day of the premiere, I was at the La Brea tar pits looking at black goo and then I come home to see this black goo. Wow! Crazy coincidence). He tells Star that the black goo is dark magic with a few golden glowing bits of good magic left………which are slowly disappearing! Toffee talks through Ludo to Moon and says he’ll give Star back in exchange for his finger which she agrees to. Once that happens, Ludo forms into Toffee back in one piece and barfs out Ludo (ew!). Unfortunately, the transformation destroyed the shard piece on Toffees hand leaving Star dead! (Hey Death! Scratch another one off your list!). Toffee doesn’t care about that and walks off. Wait, was this his plan all along? ALL THAT just so he could get his finger back!? Or did he want to make Moon suffer like he did before!? What a heartless bastard! (although I’m real happy to have seen him in his normal form with his fancy business suit again! ;) ). The good magic is gone and either Moons dark spell or Marco giving him a power punch can stop him. (Toffee you are just too cool!). It’s still heart wrenching though that they’re miserable with Star gone. Poor Ludo, he even felt bad that throughout all this (since Season 2) he had no part in being powerful other than a vessel :’(. Btw, where was Toffee goin’ cuz I was kinda curious on that. Star was still in the black goo when she sees the last bit of glowing gold good magic! It kept disappearing and reappearing to Star until she sees it at the bottom and drowns! Moon desperately tries to piece the shards ashes onto the wand, but it was no good. Sad, real sad. Star wakes up in an empty black room with Glossaryck and a pot of boiling stew. Star asks if they’re dead, but Glossaryck doesn’t know (you know, this reminds me of when Harry Potter and Dumbledore were in that empty white room place unsure if they were dead too). Are they dead? Cuz it looked to me that way, there was an insane number of deaths in this TV movie! Star sees the last bit of good magic deep in the bottom of the stew and realizes that Glossaryck is testing her again (was he though?), so she dips down! Good magic returns and it fills up the magic well springs reviving the Magic High Commission! The wand flies up and forms into a whole piece again with Star doing a transformation sequence (A-la, Sailor Moon style) in her golden mewberty form! With that power up, she blasts Toffee! She powers down to normal and everyone is thrilled to have her back. Awwwwww. Toffee, as a skeleton covered in melting black goo (well this sure got passed the radar for a kids show), tries to stop him again only to be finished off by Ludo! Yes, Ludo! By pushing a pillar on him. Soooooooooo, Toffee is officially “gone”! (I’m gonna miss him……..again!). Ludo then has Star throw him back into the abyss to find himself again (I don’t blame him, all this time he thought he was finally competent on his own when really it was all Toffee). Does this mean we’ll have a “Ludo in the Wild Part 2”?. He let’s his eagle and spider go free and Star throws him away into the abyss again (with chips). In the end, eagles descend and bring in the choir kids and King River! Turns out, there was an eagle kingdom up there where he became a king there too! Damn, that’s like double royalty! All is happy and well until Moon remembers Eclipsa and goes to check up on her. Remember kids, if Toffee dies, she’ll be free. Moon is relived she’s still crystallized and leaves. She really didn’t want Eclipsa out due to her being “evil”, but the crystal cracked! Don! Don! Don!

Okay people, I got a confession to make, I KNEW NOBODY WOULD ACTUALLY DIE IN THE SHOW! C’MON, I saw the new intro and everybody was there! The only one that actually died was Toffee (still sucks cuz he’s a fan favorite), so I was just acting like it was a big deal to spice up the review! Lol! They wouldn’t kill off the main character like that! What kind of show is that!? So what happened here is this: The Magic High Commission is back (minus Lekmet), Eclipsa will be busting out soon and we’ll be getting her backstory, Ludo is redeemed (I think) and Toffee is officially dead dead! Personally, I don’t really believe he’s dead, cuz he’s too cool of a badass villain (and I’m sure Daron knows that too) to just be killed off like that so quickly, but if he’s not dead, then there would be no other reason why Eclipsa would be coming back. So now that that whole battle is over, does that mean Star will be goin’ back to Earth or stay in Mewni for more queen training? Well, the Season 3 intro looked to be set in Mewni, so it’s the latter and that means Marco will be playing the role of the “foreign exchange student” now. More importantly, how are they gonna continue they’re friendship with an open one-sided crush!? I mean, the blood moon was in the intro too, so I’m guessing that’ll be brought up again cuz I wanna hear what they have to say about the whole soul bonding thing! And how the Hell did Janna end up in Mewni? Sooooooooooooooooooooooooo many questions still left uncovered! And Heinous! OMG! She’s gonna be up to something too. Fall could not come any slower than this, but you’ll be seeing me and my new reviews once again and it’s gonna be fun! Reviews is what I do ;). I absolutely ❤️LOVE❤️ the new outro theme music! So Sailor Moon-esque. I know Daron was inspired by that show to make svtfoe since it’s from her childhood and so was mine <3. Thank you, Daron and keep up the good work! I’ll be around! See you guys in the Fall!

#svtfoe

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