#Jack is a good friend but he's a really bad ally

[ill-say-anything-i-hafta]

"You wanna bust your other leg too?" is such a fucking shitty thing to say, Jack! This is Crutchie's life. His livlihood. He understands the stakes better than anyone.

I only have one good eye (sort of good? let's just say one eye i can use to do my job that gets me paid) and YES I've been like this my whole life and YES I'm still very sensitive about it. It is not fodder for friendly jokes. If a person I loved and trusted said something like this to me, I would lose it.

[frostyharbor]

F!READER/JOHN PRICE ■ EXPLICIT ■ IN-PROGRESS

SUMMARY:

You're a junior diplomat at the American Embassy in Bucharest. Even as tensions with Russia threaten to boil over, by the very nature of your job, you're more of the "ask questions first, shoot never" type. It's too bad military men don't really follow the same creed. tags: slow-burn, canon typical violence, minor character death

CHAPTER TWO

If you knew what we've seen and the things that we've done, you wouldn't begrudge us our comforts. In which we experience a flashback, you do something nice (with absolutely no ulterior motives), and a storm arrives.

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Then

The sleek black vehicle that slows to a stop in front of the barracks has diplomatic plates. Jack Surace isn't the one in the passenger's seat, so it's likely an assistant sent to act on the man's behalf.

You slide with practiced ease out of the back seat, and he takes in your slicked-back bun, tailored suit, and practical heels that nonetheless stand out in the sea of combat boots like a sore thumb. It's clear you haven't come to join the little gathering - you move through the crowd with purpose, making a beeline for the loud suit who had turned up over an hour earlier. The man had clearly been taking advantage of the several bottles being passed around and had stayed long past their begrudgingly-offered welcome. You glide through the press of bodies, stopping only when you've reached his side, and say something John can't hear but is delivered with an expression that implies urgency.

He hides a small smile behind his cigar. An extraction mission. How relatable.

"Good party, eh?" Gaz comments at his shoulder. He's sitting on a low wall, with Ghost and Soap standing just beyond his perch. Your appearance hasn't gone unnoticed by him, if his eyes straying casually to where you stand are any indication. But he only smiles in his easy way as his gaze sweeps back over the crowd. "Nice to see a bit of fun for a change."

John huffs. "Too right." The Delta boys are both painfully and charmingly American. John's willing to overlook the crassness and complete abuse of military equipment involved in shooting wild pigs from a helicopter if it means he and his boys get to take part in some of the spoils. Their friends from over the pond are always willing to accommodate, however, and hadn't batted an eye at the British invasion.

A Tennessee man with a wealth of hunting experience (apparently the brains behind the operation) had done the skinning and cleaning, handling the knife so deftly that even Ghost had side-eyed him warily. The only work left to be done by the time the rest of the 141 had trickled in was to wait for the meat to cook. Somewhere along the way, someone had produced a hidden stash of whiskey and vodka. The ending result is a sated crowd that's pleasantly full and buzzed both on drink and the opportunity to put their feet up. 

The only interlopers are Mr. VIP and his newly-arrived minder.

You clearly have some practice in handling difficult guests. The suit's been waving off anyone's subtle attempts to get him to move along for the past twenty minutes, but when you lay your hand lightly in the crook of his elbow and give him a doe-eyed look, he sputters. 

Clever.

As you're herding your visitor back to the waiting embassy vehicle, Soap snorts out a bray of laughter to something Ghost is muttering under his breath - exchanging more of their stupid jokes, no doubt - and the sound startles you into looking their way.

He watches as your eyes travel over his team. They linger on Soap's mohawk and the silly string of teeth he's laced around his neck, a gift from their American allies. The air of impatient tolerance that's hovered around you since you'd arrived hardens into something closer to disdain.

He looks at the scene from your point of view and supposes he understands - operators, supposedly the best of the best, skinning animals like wild men, getting drunk, and parading around in hunting trophies. Yet your judgment pricks at his gut, stirring a wash of irritation and resentment.

If you knew what we've seen and the things that we've done, you wouldn't begrudge us our comforts.

Soap catches you looking and calls out cheekily, and his back is to John but he can imagine the sergeant's eyes agleam with interest. They've all grown adept at reading people, after all, and Soap more than anyone enjoys any opportunity to cause a bit of trouble. Annoying some prim little ambassador after an afternoon of feasting and drinking is right up his alley. Just in case, John slips away from Gaz and sidles closer.

"Very impressive," you're saying to Soap with a politician's smile, and you sound like you've never been less impressed with anything in your life. Annoyance stabs at him again, and John suddenly catches a gleam of Soap's mischief. 

He shuffles closer still. Your attention shifts from Soap to where John looms over his shoulder, lit cigar dangling from his hand. “You’ve just arrived, love. Embassy isn’t going anywhere.”

So close, he sees the cracks in your facade. Your face is slightly flushed and your bun has lost some of its sleekness. You're frazzled no doubt from having to play the dutiful escort, especially for some loathsome swine of a man. Probably thinking about all the real work you have to do that's waiting for you back at your desk while you're subject to the company of peasants.  “Might as well eat something.”

You bristle like you're a cat whose tail he's just gone and stepped on. "I’m afraid we’re already late, sir. I need to go." Sir. So cordial. Cigar smoke wreathes through the air between his face and yours, but you don't look down. Your eyes stubbornly remain locked on his while you fight to maintain a slipping veneer of professionalism.

Experienced enough to not rise too high to the bait, but not so old that you've learned to let the impudence of others slide off your back.

John doesn't give your indignation the time of day. He only touches the brim of his hat in a mocking salute. "Safe travels, Ms. Diplomat.” He may not know your title for sure, but your slightly widening eyes indicate that he's scored a hit. He pointedly turns his back, an indifferent dismissal if there ever was one, and walks back the scant few paces to where Gaz, Soap, and Ghost are all watching keenly. 

He watches them back warily, feeling like the mockery he had just subjected you to is about to be paid back to him in spades.

Ghost puts out the cigarette he's been smoking and pulls his mask back down over his mouth. "First bird we've chatted to in a while, and you've gone an' ruffled her feathers."

One of his shoulders lifts in a nonchalant shrug. "If she bridles so easy, she's not worth the chase."

"Dunno about that." His words are a bit muffled, but because they've been working together for years, John can make them out as clear as day. "She sure reeled you over quick."

Soap chokes on his drink and Gaz loses it. Judging from the lack of response at his back, you've left. But John doesn't hazard a glance behind him until the sound of the car engine grows distant. By that time, he can't make you out through the tinted windows. The turning signal flickers as your driver maneuvers back on to the main road, and the blinking little light is the last thing he sees of you. 

He lets the cigar smoke sit in his mouth a bit too long before exhaling. 

Probably for the best.

_________

Now

If you were anticipating trouble from Price, you're disappointed.

Days after your surprise re-introduction, the most you've seen of him is a distant glimpse. Occasionally, the scent of tobacco and leather drifts into your office through an open window, but the man behind it never puts in an appearance.

That isn't to say you don't get acquainted with any of the team.

You would have thought that the operators would maintain a healthy distance between themselves and the rest of the embassy residents. Keep up the air of mystique and mystery. But, to your surprise, they turn out to be relatively sociable and, in some instances, downright helpful. The building they choose to occupy has been emptied of staff, but is still filled with a veritable arsenal of filing cabinets, desks, and office supplies. The Army grunts are enlisted to moving everything out that the SAS can't utilize. It would have been easy for the top dogs to let the little guys do all the work, but they're more than willing to lend a hand.

Because the nature of their jobs is top secret, naturally everyone wants to get in on a bit of the action. It doesn't seem to matter that the actual work boils down to hours of hard physical labor. You laugh the first day you see Chase struggling under the weight of about three boxes but still nonetheless keeping pace with the stocky soldier beside him, who carries his own stack like it weighs nothing.

The situation becomes less funny when even Jack stoops to clean-out duty as an excuse to speak with one of the Brits you had been introduced to. Sgt. Garrick, if you remember correctly. Jack follows him into the building that's been designated for storage, carrying one box to Garrick's four, and you don't see the two of them come out again for a long time. Ballcap looks unruffled, and Jack wears a pensive expression, thin mouth set in a concerned frown.

He waves you over from across the lawn one morning. The air is beginning to grow chill, but it's nothing a light blazer can't ward off. You pull yours tighter around you as you're summoned to your supervisor's side. The man has been keeping busy - you haven't seen him up this close since he's introduced you to Captain Price and his boys. The shadows under his eyes have grown darker and deeper and his face is more lined than ever. When he smiles, the expression is strained but genuine.

You exchange small talk for a few moments while you patiently wait him out. He must have something of greater import to say - Jack is a man who is greatly in-demand at the moment, and he has little time to waste. He inquires about Chrissy, and though you know he's still buying time while he calculates how to get to the deeper issue, you're touched that he thought to ask. Chrissy, as it turns out, is fine. She had returned to her home stateside and you touch base with her almost every other night.

It's true that you miss her every day, but it's nice to have someone on the outside to talk to who knows how it is. She had taken particular interest in the operators making an appearance. 

"Of course it would take a bomb to make the hot ones appear," she had huffed to you when you told her about the four particular men you were now on last-name basis with. You had been lying on your back on your loveseat with your phone crushed between your shoulder and your ear, a bottle of nail polish in hand and your foot propped up on one knee. Something about painting your nails feels trivial at a time like this, but the familiarity of routine is nonetheless soothing.

You had examined your toenails with deliberate indifference, a purposefully non-sexy act. "Never said they were hot."

The smugness in her voice had come through the phone so clearly you could practically see her smirking beside you. "Didn't have to." 

If your hand had jerked irritably and sent a gash of polish across one of your toes, you certainly weren't going to admit it to her.

The men are physically attractive - that's something you've never denied in spite of your grumblings. One doesn't get to serve with the top dogs without reason. These are all men in peak condition, well in their prime, and they wear strength and self-assuredness as easily as any gear.

It's the personality that usually leaves something to be desired. Character traits prized in a warzone or on undercover ops rarely translate well into civilian life.  Confidence becomes arrogance. Daring, recklessness. Authority, control. In the beginning, you had despaired of how you were ever going to be able to put up with them. In the days since the arrival of the SAS, you had begun to wonder how anyone put up with them.

While they were willing to help, help had to be provided their way. They always knew best - if anyone had a suggestion, they had a better one. If someone cautioned them against doing something, they did it anyways. Jack had warned you that they flaunted rules, and you had gotten the first taste of that when you had tried to politely remind one of them to keep secure doors closed - they had developed a habit of leaving them propped open when carrying things in or out, which you supposed was fine so long as they remembered to close it when they were done.

Some of them are still waiting on badge access for some of the buildings, however, and had taken to inventing very subtle doorstops to keep doors from closing all the way rather than look for a current employee to badge them in.

"This is a secure facility," you had called out when you had caught one of them doing it with a back door in your building. He had moved the carpet runner in the hall just so, tucking the corner under the door to prevent the latch from catching. It was so well-done that an employee, habituated to scanning their badge before testing the handle, would likely scan and enter as usual and notice nothing amiss.

He had just given you an incredulous look. The implied and what are you going to do about it? had been clear. Leaving the carpet tucked as it was, he left the hall and stepped outside. 

Jack had told you to play nice. But he hadn't said anything about aiding and abetting. You had stepped on the rug on your side of the hall and given your foot a sharp twitch. The corner had popped free of the doorway, allowing the door to close the rest of the way. The click of the latch was loud in the quiet entry, and it must have been audible even outside because the man stopped and looked over his shoulder.

You had locked eyes through the glass. He made an aborted movement with his arms, like he wanted to throw them up at your audacity but checked himself at the last minute. He had finally rolled his eyes and kept walking, shoulders hunched up irritably around his ears. You get a feeling that he would have liked to have done or said something more.

Looks like you hadn't been the only one told to behave.

Back in the present moment, Jack nods and smiles when you give him a brief update on Chrissy's exploits at home. 

He fishes a pack of Malboros and a lighter from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Offers you one as a joke, knowing you don't smoke, and you're half-tempted to take it. It's been that sort of week so far.

"And the men?" Jack's never before referred to any group at the embassy as the men, so you understand it to mean the new soldiers on base. You give him a quizzical look. He raises his eyebrows and elaborates. "Gotten to speak with them much?"

You don't think he'd be impressed with the door incident and keep that interaction to yourself. "Not really."

Cagey as you might be, Jack has made his career in reading others and translates immediately even the words you don't say. He squints down at you suspiciously. "Thought I said to be nice."

"I am being nice," you snip back, tone lacking all niceness. He snorts.

"Be nicer, then. I need you to be my eyes and ears when I'm not around."

Annoyance flickers through you. How are you supposed to keep an eye on men who make it their job to move in secrecy? "They deal in covert operations."

"In the city, maybe. Here, no." He tips his head very slightly to indicate where a cluster of people stand - regular Army, embassy staff, and even a few operators - all together near the gate. "They've seemed more than happy to intermingle. I'd bet all of Bucharest that they've been told to find out everything they can about everyone here, and we need to be doing the same."

You wonder what they've found out about you. "You say that like you don't trust them."

"I don't."

When the revelation sinks in, you can't believe what you're hearing. "They're here because you asked them to come."

"The Army is here because I asked them to come. I told you, the SAS is on their own business." He waves casually to a passerby who wanders by their spot. The woman smiles and bobs her head in return, continuing on the path none the wiser.

You had stopped yourself from speaking in front of her almost instinctively, and wait a few more moments for her to disappear around a corner. "That didn't seem to bother you when they first arrived."

That Jack immediately lights another cigarette when he finishes the first is telling. He's stressed, but going through great trouble to make their conversation appear ordinary. "It didn't. But these guys...they're familiar with the layout of the embassy. Familiar already with the people. They make a point to ask around for directions, sure, and play along well enough with introductions but...I think they've been watching the embassy, watching us, for a while."

His pale eyes flit to the section of the wall where the IED had been thrown over. The ground has been filled in, but the lawn is still bare there and the ugly mark it had left on the concrete is still visible. "They've sent more troops, too, than I ever requested. When I asked for more security, I didn't ask for them to send a small army. And so quickly..." He trails off.

"Almost like they were looking for a reason," you mutter, beginning to pick up the thread of his apprehension. 

"Or gave themselves one."

You glance at him sharply. He's still looking pointedly at the blackened wall.

The dots he's asking you to connect stretch the boundaries of credibility. "They wouldn't do something like that." Your estimation of covert organizations may not be high, but to attack an embassy? It could have killed someone.

He looks down at you with an expression that's half resigned, half bitter. "They would. They have. You need to remember that we're dealing with people who have ways of getting what they want. If they needed an excuse to build up military force close to the city without arousing suspicion, they'd use whatever opportunity they had."

The words hang in the morning air while you both mull over your own respective thoughts. Jack doesn't seem to be in any hurry to speak first, waiting you out as you had waited him out earlier. "But why would they?"

"That's the question, isn't it? And maybe these men here don't even know for sure." He takes a long drag, breath smoking the air when he exhales. "They don't set the chessboard themselves, after all."

Who does, then? The question that yawns in your stomach feels as bottomless as a black hole, and you feel yourself shudder. You're not so sure you want to know.

You think back to what he had told you earlier. I need you to be my eyes and ears. "And you think they'd tell me what they do know?" You knew there was a fat chance of that ever happening. The operators might be playing the part of social butterflies, but that didn't make them stupid. Or loose-lipped.

"They won't tell you outright. But if they know you, they might speak amongst themselves more openly."

That sounds to you a lot like some sort of reconnaissance assignment. You arch a surly brow. "You want me to spy?"

"I want you to listen." Jack flicks down his cigarette and crushes it under the heel of his shoe. For the first time since your conversation began, some of his frustration is visible. "It's...unpalatable. I understand. But this is my embassy, my people that they're toying with." Anger flares briefly in his face before he gets himself under control. "If I can get an idea of why they're here, we can start to prepare for whatever comes next."

He takes his leave then, and you make the walk back to the office alone. The chatter of your coworkers is muted in your ears as you sit at your desk and think, occasionally plucking away at the keyboard to give the impression of being busy.

What your boss is asking you to do troubles you. It feels - no, it is - dishonest and manipulative. But has there not always been a cunning element to diplomacy? For all that a diplomat holds an olive branch in one hand, the other cradles the best interests of his own country with guarded jealousy. To make sure one comes out on top, sometimes you have to play a nasty game.

You don't want to be a spy. You especially don't want to spy on these men of all people, who won't take kindly to attempted subterfuge. But you're also sympathetic to Jack's fear, and as one of the staff members directly impacted by whatever the hell he thinks is going on, you've got skin in this game, too.

Signing, you run a hand over your hair, smoothing back the frazzled edges of your bun. If you're going to strike up a relationship with any of the guys, you need to figure out where to start. As you haven't exactly gone out of your way to be welcoming thus far, some sort of overture will be required. Nothing too grand - that would raise suspicion. Something small, yet thoughtful. Trivial, but memorable.

You think you have just the thing.

The fastest way to a man's heart, after all, is through his stomach.

_________

When the IED incident had occurred a few weeks earlier, you had called home looking for a bit of comfort. Your family, as well as some old friends, had risen to the occasion magnificently.

The result of their attentions was no less than four separate care packages that had been shipped over the Atlantic as fast as they could possibly go. Each person had seemed to have the same idea in what would provide the most comfort: good old-fashioned American candy and snack cakes.

You had spent the first couple of nights after getting the boxes stress-eating Twinkies and Gushers, but now just looking at the mound of snack food in your kitchen is enough to make you ill. It's easy to gather everything up to bring it to a breakroom on the floor they're currently cleaning out. 

When the room goes silent and a dozen pairs of eyes turn to you expectantly, you wonder if you’ve made a mistake.

As the silence is drawn out, the context of a relative stranger standing in their midst holding an unmarked package dawns on you. “It’s candy!” You explain hastily. You upend the box over one of the dingy tables and a rainbow of sweets showers out. Some of the little bags of Skittles and M&Ms slide from the growing pile, and the sound of the packs hitting the floor in the otherwise quiet room makes you flinch.

For a moment, the men just blink at the pile like they're not sure what to do with it. Then one of them in the back cranes his head around the guy standing in front of him. It's the one you tiffed with over the propped-open door.

He looks right at you, and you expect him to say whatever mocking thing he had held back that day. Instead, his gaze drops to the table and his face lights up at something he sees.

“Twizzlers!”

His outburst is the only thing needed to break the tension in the room. He's the first one to reach the table, but the rest of them pile curiously in behind him. Some of the older men have had American candy before and go immediately for their favorites. But the younger ones are more careful in their deliberations. They squint at the colorful packaging and pick up two different kinds at a time, looking between them with all the solemnity of a child having to choose what candy he'll eat first after a night of trick-or-treating at Halloween.

You hear others asking for advice on what they should try first. "Hershey kisses? Those any good?"

"Nah, American chocolate's rubbish, give one of the Jolly Ranchers a go-"

You have to cover your mouth to hide your smile. When the idea had struck you to bring candy, you had thought they might be appreciative at best, indifferent at worst. But they seem to love it, arguing good-naturedly over the virtues and drawbacks of each candy and going back to the table to see if there was anything they missed on their first pass.

The door-propper, his Twizzlers in hand, saunters over to you. "This mean you'll stop closing the doors?"

The smile you give him is lethal. "No."

Someone laughs. This man's got a pack of M&Ms, which he pools out into his palm and then tips back into his mouth in one go. "Too bad, Ozone." To you, he tips an enormous wink. "This crybaby's been bitching about that door all week." 

"It's inconvenient," the one named Ozone insists, and he becomes instantly less intimidating when you hear the whine in his voice. 

There's something about their voices too that makes your brain itch, but in the din and confusion of the room, it takes you a moment to understand why. When you hit on it, you're embarrassed at how it hadn't been obvious from that start: these men are American. But Jack had said they were SAS, not Delta, and the majority of the accents in the room are definitely British. So how did these two come to be in a British special forces unit?

Frowning, you open your mouth to ask.

Your question is cut off when, beyond them, a playful scuffle breaks out over the last pack of Gushers. Ozone and his friend turn to watch eagerly, but it's quickly broken up when two of the last men approach the table.

“Lads,” Mohawk - MacTavish, you remember - tuts when he walks up, shaking his head. “It’s just sweeties.” That doesn’t stop him from taking advantage of their distraction, grinning and snatching up one of the colorful Warheads. “Always wanted to try these.”

You feel like you have to at least warn him. “Careful, they’re-”

“Sour, yeah.” He waves off your concern. “Think I can handle a bit o’ candy, Miss.” He rips open the wrapper and pops it into his mouth, and you try to keep your smug glee to yourself when his face immediately twists with displeasure.

“Jesus fookin’ wept, that’s vile.” 

Naturally, he pockets about a half-dozen more.

“Careful, Johnny,” Lt. Riley doesn’t look up from where he’s methodically sorting through what’s left, finally settling on a fun-size Milky Way. The chocolate looks comically tiny sitting in his broad hand. “Yer Mum ever teach you if you make a face, it’ll get stuck that way?”

MacTavish sticks his nose in the air. “Me Mam taught me a lot o’ things.”

Someone snickers and immediately picks the low-hanging fruit, stage-whispering, “Tav’s Mam taught me lots of things, too.”

The tiny room explodes in laughter. The color rises so quickly in MacTavish’s face that it goes scarlet in a matter of seconds, and he launches himself with righteous fury at the offending soldier. Everyone else automatically steps back to make room, and they leave the candy for the fight.

You think you’ve been forgotten about in the following chaos until someone steals up behind you. The air at your back feels suddenly warm, and a whisper ghosts over the shell of your ear.

“That was mighty generous, Miss.”

It makes you jump so violently that a few of the men look up in alarm, distracted from the ongoing brawl. Between bodies, you can make out MacTavish with his arm hooked around the heckler’s neck. Both men are on the floor, and neither of them look like they’re going to give in any time soon. The onlookers shout jeering encouragement, egging on their favorites.

Everyone except Captain Price, who has taken advantage of the chaos to give you a heart attack. You whirl about to glare, coming face-to-face with a broad chest and grinning, bearded mouth.

"My apologies," he conveys solemnly, but the glitter in his eyes as you look up at him is anything but apologetic. "Didn't mean to give you a fright."

You narrow your eyes threateningly. "What did you mean then, I wonder?"

He raises his hands in a placating manner. "Only to thank you for going out of your way for the lads." From their raised position, he folds his arms over his chest and looks down at you, tilting his head questioningly to the side. "Didn't know you liked us that much."

Shit. Ten minutes into your plan and you’ve been made.

Unless he’s throwing the suspicion out there and waiting to see if you'll give yourself away.

You’re painfully aware that this is a game you don’t know how to play, and your opponent is likely a master. But if you dwell on that, you’ll lose before you can even begin. Casually, you shrug. “My family was pretty over-enthusiastic with their last care package. I didn’t want it to go to waste.”

"Ah." You can't tell if he believes you or not. He only steps past you to get to the table, peering down over his crossed arms to survey the leftovers - the pile had been thinned out rather quickly. He does a curious thing while he's thinking, rocking his weight up to his toes and then back to his heels again, tapping one of his fingers thoughtfully on his bicep.

You find yourself insanely curious over what he might pick. He's not weighing his different choices like some of the men had, and instead seems to be searching for something specific. Of course he would be a man who knew exactly what he wanted. He finally reaches down and plucks a silver-and-blue wrapped candy from the lot, shaking it at you triumphantly when he walks back over to your side.

A York Peppermint Patty.

"Used to love these when I was a lad." He peels open the plastic with relish, biting the candy in half. You can smell the mint from where you stand next to him. "None of the other kids at primary could stand 'em, so whenever we got candy, I could always trade to get what I wanted."

A wild mental image of a young boy with a full mustache and beard eating a chocolate Patty enters your mind, and you only just hold back a laugh.

You suppose kids might not hate them, but it does seem to be an odd choice for a favorite. "Why did you like them so much?"

He frowns, like he had never considered it. "I guess I just thought it was neat how it felt to eat one. Only candy I ever tried that made my mouth cold."

At that, even you can't help but smile. He catches it, watching you out of the corner of his eye. "What's your favorite then, Miss?"

You tell him, and now it's his turn to squint down at you, eyes darting between you and the table.

"Funny, I didn't see any of those with the rest."

You smirk. "I'm aware." You may have been trying to make a nice gesture, but you never claimed to be Mother Teresa. Your favorite candy is currently split into two secret stashes - one in a jar above your kitchen sink and the other scattered in one of your desk drawers under a stack of files. 

A chorus of cheers interrupts you both. MacTavish is getting to his feet, and waves his arms in the air triumphantly before reaching down to help his fellow sergeant. The latter doesn't look all that worse for wear, if one isn't counting wounded pride, and has his arm slung cheerfully around MacTavish's shoulders. Lt. Riley rolls his eyes with what you think might be fondness and ruffles the sergeant's mohawk. Candy enjoyed and fight won, the men begin to disperse to their respective rooms to finish the clean-out. The atmosphere is noticeably light; even Ozone and his companion give you a friendly wave as they leave.

As the impromptu little party breaks up, you realize for the first time that one of the four is missing.

"Where's Sgt. Garrick?"

Captain Price doesn't say a word, but you can feel the amicability that's built between the two of you vanish at your question. You could kick yourself - you had asked without thinking. He finishes the Peppermint Patty and stuffs the wrapper in his pocket. 

"He's working."

He smiles down at you in parting, but his eyes are flinty. Searching. You meet his gaze as best as you can, but it's harder to draw upon righteous indignation at his suspicion when you know that it's valid. You're the last two left in the room, and you could swear your heartbeat is audible in the silence. Mouth suddenly dry, you fight the urge to swallow.

Whatever he sees, he gives nothing away. Only thanks you again before holding open the door for you to leave before him. You take the exit that's offered, forcing yourself to walk down the hall to the main door with measured, even steps.

You feel his eyes boring into your back the entire way.

________

When you had brought in the candy, you had wisely withheld a fraction of your collection to dole out later. This you keep in one of your filing cabinets at work, though if some candies - namely Twizzlers, M&Ms, Warheads, and Milky Ways - make their way into a separate stash in your desk, well, no one has to be any wiser.

You had hesitated before adding a handful of Peppermint Patties to your own private pile of favorites. 

To your immense shock, Ozone is the one who visits you the most once he figures out there's a reward in it for him. Badge access has been approved for the remaining men, and with nothing left to pick at each other for, you find you like him very much. Occasionally, though, you find Twizzlers wrappers jammed in the latch of your office door when you go to lock up at night and know its his way of still getting one up on you. Because its not the building access door, you very graciously let it go and absolutely do not threaten to incinerate the remaining licorice. 

After a couple of days of visits, you feel comfortable enough to ask what you had tried to find out in the breakroom earlier. "So, American?"

Ozone's sitting on the windowsill, legs dangling inside and upper half leaned out so he can smoke without leaving. His friend, who's since been introduced to you as Scarecrow, is sitting in your extra desk chair and sorting Skittles by color out of boredom. Everyone else has already left for the night and twilight is setting in. 

A rumble of thunder makes you look out the window. Beyond Ozone's figure, purple storm clouds are gathering on the horizon.

"American," Scarecrow confirms for him. He seems to be using your desk as a battlefield of sorts, moving the different-colored Skittles around like squadrons. You deduce that red ones are the enemy, green is support, and purple is executing some kind of movement to flank the enemy from the left. Yellow Skittles dot the landscape at random intervals with no rhyme or reason.

"Who's yellow?"

"Casualties." He squashes one with his thumb for emphasis, scattering flakes of sugar across one of your files. "I'll clean that," he adds quickly, seeing your mouth begin to thin.

While Scarecrow's up looking for paper towels, Ozone turns to you with hooded eyes. "Why do you ask?"

"Hmm?" You look up from where you're sweeping the remaining candy off your desk and onto a paper plate. You consider throwing it out, but figure Scarecrow's eaten worse than sweets that have been contaminated by paperwork. 

"Well, we're obviously American. Accent kind of gives it away. Why do you need to ask?"

He might be half-hanging out your window like an idiot, and Scarecrow might have seconds before been playing with candy, but you remind yourself that Captain Price isn't the only operator who can read people, and you're not the only one in this room trying to fish for information.

I'd bet all of Bucharest that they've been told to find out everything they can about everyone here.

You try to pick your next words carefully. "Well, I was just curious, that's all. Jack said you were all SAS, but I thought they were British."

"They are." Ozone's looking at you, and you get the feeling that he's trying to be just as careful with what he says. They, he had said. Not we. He flinches suddenly and looks up at the sky. After holding his hand out palm-up, he curses and stubs the cigarette out, ducking back inside and moving to close the window.

"Storm's here."

You jump up to your feet and shove your laptop in your work bag, desperate to get to your apartment before it really sets in; those dark clouds had looked bad. Ozone locks the window as you shrug your coat on, crossing the office to peer into the gathering dark. Rain has begun to fleck the glass, but it doesn't look too bad - if you leave now, you might make it.

Below, there's movement in front of the building where the temporary barracks are located. The front door has been flung open, casting a yellow rectangle of light out across the dark lawn. Four lumpy silhouettes march out the door and down the steps. The door closes behind them, plunging the lawn into darkness again. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, but you quickly realize that those lumps are people carrying packs and equipment. 

The one in front looks like he's wearing a familiar hat and leaves a trail of smoke where he walks. From what you can see, they're not dressed in any gear, but that isn't to say its not stashed away in one of those bags. There are two black SUVs waiting on the drive, and they each throw their packs in the back before climbing inside, two each to a vehicle.

"Now where are they going?" You mutter half to yourself, not really expecting an answer.

"Auditions tonight," Ozone replies cryptically. You shoot him an incredulous look. 

"Auditions?"

Lightning forks across the sky. The following clap of thunder is more violent than the earlier warning rumble, and it makes you jump.

A third reflection joins yours and Ozone's in the window as Scarecrow comes up behind you both, peering over your shoulders to see what you're looking at. The SUVs navigate up the drive and past the gate, their taillights growing dimmer in the increasing rain until they disappear into the night. 

He must have overheard your question and Ozone's answer, because Scarecrow snickers. "Well, sure." His eyes, as reflected in the dark glass, look completely black. "We've been looking for a man who can sing."

[mutable-manifestation]

Actual Scientists Jack & Maddie AU Part 3

Part 1 & 2

***

The lab is empty when they get to Fenton Works, his parents busy off helping the JLD wherever it was they were working from.

The journey the rest of the way to the Far Frozen passes relatively quickly under the weight of discussing how to reverse engineer the sarcophagus of forever sleep to make Naptime Box 2: Vlad Edition.

Could they probably just beat him up with the right plan and aid? Sure. But then they risk having to play royal hot potato (Danny doesn't want it and he doubts most of the allies he has would want the extra responsibility. Assuming there are responsibilities - Danny wouldn't know since there hasn't been a king, for all intents and purposes, since well before he became a halfa so who knows what the position even means in the context of the Zone).

Plus it would be way more satisfying to shove him in a box. Vlad gets a nice long nap and Danny gets to live the rest of his half-life without worrying about his Dad getting stabbed or something if Vlad starts feeling impatient.

It would also give Danny plenty of time to find some way to buy the Packers - not because he wants them, just because it would be really funny if Vlad eventually woke up to find that the only thing he wanted other than Maddie was now also very permanently out of reach.

The city of Green Bay could fold eventually, after all. But Danny? Danny would never yield, just to spite him, and Vlad would know that.

He probably won't actually do it, seeing as a) expensive and b) probably complicated.

But it would be really funny.

Their discussion on the ethics of using the Fenton Stockades as the base for the Box cut off as they land.

Without the distraction of their chat the adrenaline of panic comes rushing back, and he transforms as he steps out of the Speeder, nyooming to hover in front of Frostbite so quickly that the entire welcoming party - Frostbite somehow manages to have one arranged every time he drops by, and Danny is usually willing to at least try and indulge them since it seems to make them happy - jolts in surprise.

"Greetings!" Frostbite smiles wide, arms open in a grand welcoming, the only hint of lingering surprise the trails of slightly puffed up fur up his arms and the sides of his neck that has already mostly smoothed itself back out. "The Far Frozen welcomes the Great One and friends-"

"Hey Frostbite sorry for being abrupt but I'm kind of freaking out and you seemed like the best person - uh, ghost to go to because you always seem to know lots of things and I kind of need to know what's going on as soon as possible just in case it's a worst case scenario because the Justice League came to talk to my parents about some papers and I probably haven't mentioned them to you before because they're awful and I thought my parents made them but surprise I was wrong! Which is good! Except the League was mostly worried about them maybe causing the new ghost king to war with the human realm because apparently there's a supernatural branch of the Justice League and they think there's a new Ghost KingTM as in the Ghost King after Pariah Dark and I'm kind of freaking out because if there is a new ghost king there's actually a chance it's Vlad and oh ancients please tell me it's not Vlad or that the League heard wrong please."

Sam and Tucker had caught up by then, coming to stand on either side of him as Frostbite blinked.

"You are...asking me the identity of the current High King?" He asks, face scrunched in a bewildered expression.

"Oh my gosh Batman was right!?" He floats a bit higher at the news. "Please just tell me it's not Vlad! Uh, Plasmius."

"Plasmius?" Frostbite asks, eyebrows crawling higher. "Certainly not! What in the realms - do you truly not know?"

"Oh thank goodness," Danny sighs, sinking back to his usual level. "Not Vlad, okay, one less disastrous possibility. And whoever it is probably already knows they're the king and nothing bad has happened yet so it's probably fine, right?"

He looks back to meet Frostbite's eyes.

"Wait, nothing bad has happened yet, right? Like, is everything okay? I know Pariah caused you guys a lot of grief before; the new guy 's not going around causing trouble for you and you just haven't told me because you're worried about being a bother, right?" He frets, eyes flicking about, searching for fresh injuries on the various members of the welcoming party.

"...No, Great One," Frostbite answers, blinking away the surprised expression to be replaced by something soft. "Though I, and all the Far Frozen, are honored by your concern. While Pariah Dark is no longer the High King of the Infinite Realms, I can assure you, with utmost certainty, that you have nothing to fear from his successor. But I believe we have much more to discuss. Come, let us find somewhere more comfortable to talk - and get your human friends out of the cold."

***

It didn't take them long to reach a sitting room, and soon enough they were all settled into the enormous, fuzzy chairs in one of the warmer rooms available, Danny and Frostbite each with a cup of shaved ice tea while Sam and Tucker were offered beverages warm enough to steam in deference to their need for warmth.

Once everyone had taken a sip - or bite - Danny launched back into his questioning.

"So did Dark have a kid hidden away somewhere or did some kind of council finally decide on his replacement? Actually can ghosts even have - wait right Box Lunch, forgot about that on purpose but never mind. Or is there some fourth option that isn't those or trial by combat that we didn't think of?"

"Before I answer that, Great One, may I ask why you have already discounted trial by combat?" He returns curiously.

"Because if it was trial by combat it would be Vlad - er, Plasmius - and you already said it isn't him."

"Or it could be you," Tucker ribs, waggling his fingers at him.

"We already talked about why it couldn't be me, Tuck," Danny huffs, rolling his eyes and taking another bite of his... smoothie?

"Oh? And why do you think it would be Plasmius?" Frostbite asks.

"Because! I may have fought Pariah Dark, and sure I put him back in the sarcophagus, but I was running on fumes by that point, and he was still slamming around in there! Vlad, as much as I hate to admit it, is the one that turned the key and made sure he stayed locked away. It took almost everything I had to keep him pinned long enough. If...if he'd been even a few seconds later I probably would've died the rest of the way before he even had the time to break out a second time."

"But had you not put him there, no key would have mattered," Frostbite begins quietly. "Plasmius was no match for Pariah Dark; he was defeated in an instant the first time they clashed."

"Well, yeah, but so was I," he protests, not liking the direction the conversation is beginning to take.

"And yet, you alone went to face him a second time. You alone stood against the King of All Ghosts while your armies clashed."

"Our-!? I didn't have- you mean the ghosts that came to help me???" Danny sputtered, incredulous. "They weren't an army they were just-"

He pauses, searching for words that would not come.

"They were just a large group of ghosts who sided with you, who aided you in combat and kept the multitudes distracted while you went to face their leader alone. However you thought of them at the time, whatever they were to you up till then or are to you now, after, in that moment they were your army."

"Danny's totally the ghost king, isn't he?" Sam drawls after the brief silence that follows.

"Indeed," Frostbite answers her, but he looks Danny in the eyes as he does so. "You are the savior of the Ghost Zone, Pariah's Bane. And you are the High King of the Infinite Realms."

"I cheated!" Danny blurts out, shooting up to float above his chair.

"Cheated?" Frostbite's lips twitch as he fights down a smile.

"I had the Fenton Ecto-Skeleton! That's totally cheating! Don't combat trials have to be honorable or something?!" He begs.

Frostbite chuckles.

"I apologize, Great One, but I am afraid there is no such thing as an honorable war," he says, expression briefly turning solemn. "And even if it were, just as you had your "Ecto-Skeleton," did not Pariah have his ring and crown?

You issued a challenge and he answered, your armies clashed while the two of you stood against each other and each other alone; you alone put him back into the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep, and you alone held it shut long enough for Plasmius to turn the key.”

Danny drifts back down to his seat as Frostbite speaks, then continues slouching further with every word.

“I am given to understand that Plasmius likes to think of others as pawns on his own personal chessboard,” he says, “But at the time he was but another ghost, come to fight Pariah's army on your behalf - as a member of your army. A pawn, to paraphrase his own words, that you used to topple a king - not through any intentional manipulation, but through the sheer magnetic charisma of your willingness to stand against monsters like Pariah Dark and of your ability to do so. The confidence to stand alongside you that such strength inspires. 

He would not have approached if he did not believe you could win - would not risk endangering himself so. At best, you could consider him a referee, calling the match to a close once it was decisively in your favor.

Plasmius may think of existence as a game with himself as the only player, and he may have been acting in his own self-interest overall, but by every measure, in this instance, he was undeniably your piece.

The Zone itself acknowledges your right to rule by the way the crown of fire sits where you left it, unmoving on the floor of Pariah's keep until the day you finally choose to wear it, no matter how many hands may try to move it."

Frostbite's words are slow and measured, but as undeniable as the creeping of a glacier. And by the time they cease, Danny has sunk so far as to end up an undignified heap on the floor before his chair.

The trio remains silent as they absorb his words.

Minutes pass before Danny finally speaks.

"If the crown can't be taken, then how did I get it from Pariah?" He questions, a final hope that Frostbite may be mistaken.

"It will only remain unmoved until you first put it on. After that, it will be up to you whether it stays safe on your head."

Danny groans his despair, final bit of hope shattered.

"I must apologize again, Great One," he says solemnly. "Had I known you were unaware of your station, I would have informed you sooner."

He frowns heavily, looking into the distance thoughtfully.

"The Observants should have informed you long before now."

"Well, that explains it. The Observants hate Danny's guts," Tucker says.

"To neglect their duties for such a reason...," He trails off, his glower highlighting the inhuman nature of his visage. 

The trio fidget.

Danny coughs after a few seconds of tense silence.

“Uh, speaking of duties,” he begins, relaxing as Frostbite’s expression smooths back into something kind and polite as he listens, “What exactly does the Ghost King even do? Like. Pariah was locked away for… a long time? I guess. So does the Zone even need a King? Can’t I just, like, resign?”

“I suppose it might seem that way from a younger ghost’s perspective - Pariah has been locked away for millenia, after all, and the Zone is still in one piece.” 

Frostbite pauses, leaning back in his seat and taking another bite of his drink. 

“However. What you must understand, Great One, is that the problems caused by the absence of a king in the Infinite Realms are not the whirlwind that such a thing would be in the living realm - social order is affected, but the speed of bureaucracy is slower by orders of magnitude in the Realms, and there is not the same level of inter-reliance that the living tend to require - but rather, they are winds and waters sliding against a rock, chipping away at it bit by bit until it is either worn smooth… or the whole structure collapses under its own weight.”

“How does not having a king cause dimensional collapse!?” Tucker shrieks, clutching his cup like a lifeline.

“How long do we have before it collapses?” Sam asks urgently not a second later.

“Oh shit, how long do we have before it collapses???” he echoes, hunching over his cup enough that the steam adds a layer of fog to his glasses.

Danny sits bolt upright, whipping wide eyes away from his friends to join them in staring at Frostbite.

“Total collapse would take millenia more to truly begin,” he placates before taking a more grave expression. “This does not mean that there will not be issues before that point, however; the symptoms of the High King’s absence have begun to show this past millennium. But rest assured, there is time enough to heal the wounds that have been wrought. The only permanent damage would be the collapse itself, and that, as I said, is millenia away.”

“Is… is that why you never mentioned it to me before?” Danny asks, dropping back to the ground in relief. “Because it’s not urgent and you figured I’d just…get to it eventually? Actually, why did you think I knew if you knew that the crown was still in Pariah’s Keep?”

“It is the duty of the Observants to observe, but also, as you have experienced, to oversee - the timeline, trials, the general functioning of the zone. Without a king to report to, much of their ability to act is crippled, of course - their ability to interfere directly with the timeline has always been severely restricted, their options for sentencing are severely reduced, and there are some things the Realms require that only the High King can provide - but one duty remains unaffected: overseeing the ascension of new kings. 

Coronations have taken many forms in the past, from a quick swap in the battlefield to a formal ceremony to a celebration that lasted a decade. Given the dark era we are, at last, able to put behind us and the non-urgent nature of even the most severe problems that the Realms are currently affected by, I had assumed that the large delay was in preparation for that last form - the lead-up to a grand celebration.”

“Except instead it’s just them being petty,” Sam notes, sitting back up from her own relieved slouch. 

Danny groans, leaving his tea to float and covering his face with his hands.

“Why couldn’t it have just been as easy as shoving Vlad in a box,” he whines.

“I mean, we still can?” Tucker offers, prompting Sam to smack him over the head before pausing consideringly.

“OW!”

“He might be right, actually,” she says, ignoring his exclamation. “Given Vortex’s trial and sentencing, there’s clearly some kind of legal system in the Zone that isn’t just Walker on a power trip. No doubt he’s broken some kind of Actual Realms Law - I’d be surprised if breaking Pariah out like he did wasn’t some form of highly illegal - so you could probably send him to actual Ghost Jail. It’s certainly where he belongs, given all the….”

She makes a vague gesture with her hand in lieu of words.

“That doesn’t resolve the problem of I Don’t Wanna Be A King!” Danny exclaims, sitting back and throwing his hands in the air.

Then he turns to Frostbite, eyes pleading. 

“Can’t you be king?” he asks. 

Frostbite opens his mouth to reply, but Danny steamrolls over him.

“It makes sense! You already know how to lead people! And your people love you! You already know about all the king stuff too! You’ve beaten me in spars before! We’d just have to go to the keep, I put on the crown, you beat me, and problem solved!”

Frostbite’s smile is a mix of amused and pitying.

“I have only ever beaten you in training spars, Great One, and you and I both know that is largely because they were focused on improving your skill with ice and ice alone. Even if I could defeat you in a true all-out fight as you are, I believe you underestimate the boost granted by the crown of fire.”

“I can just put it on then take it off again before we fight! And we can stick to ice!”

“I’m afraid it is not so simple,” he shakes his head. “If you do not give it your all, the crown - the Realms - will not recognize the transition. The only way to “throw the match” successfully would require your opponent to fully End you: to crush your core and snuff your spirit from the very fabric of existence. I am unwilling to do such a thing, and I sincerely hope you would not ask it of me - or, indeed, of anyone.”

Danny paled enough that he nearly matched his human form in skin tone.

“Right. Let’s… let’s not do that, actually.”

“On the bright side, you can probably weasel ruling tips out of Aquaman in exchange for not declaring war on the Living Realm!” Tucker chirps, aiming to cheer him up.

“I’m not going to threaten the Justice League!” he yelps, scandalized.

“But you probably won’t have to threaten them,” Sam chimes in. “They’re already trying to summon you, you already know their goal is to avoid a war. As long as you don’t ask for anything unreasonable, they should be inclined to give you what you want in exchange for peace.”

“Once you offer peace, they will be invested in your successful rule of their own volition as a means of perpetuating said peace,” Frostbite corrects. “If you would like to set preconditions to an accord you should make them things that will not readily be given as a result of said accord. But before we discuss further, perhaps you can fill me in on why war was a concern in the first place? I believe you mentioned something about papers?”

[acrynix]

TWST Hunger Games AU

Okay okay I get it guys. Hunger Games AUs are played out but I just got Sunrise on the Reaping and I'm losing my MIND! (Haymitch did not deserve this)

FIRST YEARS IN THE HUNGER GAMES!

Jack (District 7) is obviously the favorite to win. He's fucking built and in peak physical condition. The only flaw he would have is his friends and allies. He would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it meant his allies would survive.

Deuce (District 3) is very similar, but he has the added bonus of a sob story that makes him more sympathetic and even more of a favorite. He and Jack become allies which gains them a lot of support. They're unstoppable, gaining resources and getting more kills than any pair in history.

Sebek (District 2) I think dreamed of being a Peacekeeper like most of his family until he was reaped for the games. Suddenly he was aware of the injustice the games truly held, watching everyone die one by one. He's physically capable, but he knows he's not the crowd favorite in the districts given that he's the son of Peacekeepers.

Epel (District 11) is arguably the least favorable, but he's also a farmer, so he's got secret strength that no one expects him to have, as well as the survivor instincts of a cockroach. He knows how to handle himself in the wild, and he's small, so he can hide in smaller places. He ends up forming an alliance with Deuce and Jack.

Ace (District 12) wasn't reaped liked everyone else. Ace had to step in when his brother didn't show. He technically volunteered, but everyone knows that once his brother didn't come forward, he was doomed to be his scapegoat. He doesn't get along with the other tributes, but avoids killing people for the most part. He's the least favorite to win.

Yuu (District 12) wasn't reaped either. They volunteered when their little brother Grim was called (me when MC is just Katniss Everdeen). They're not favored much in terms of skill, but their personality and kind heart gets everyone to root for them, not just one side or the other.

Y'all are asking where the upperclassmen are I know I know

Vil (District 7) is Jack's mentor, having won his games through sheer will power and ruthlessness. He may have been a pretty boy that everyone only sponsored because of his looks, but he brutalized his opponents and poisoned the ones he couldn't take. With a mentor like that, Jack is set up for success (and yes I understand it makes more sense if Vil was Epel's mentor but Vil and Jack share the same childhood home so I went based off of that canonically but I definitely have some Vil and Epel interactions in my head)

Lilia (District 2) is Sebek's mentor. He's always looked up to the veteran, but there's something haunted in his eyes that makes Sebek question whether or not it's a good thing working for the Capitol. He starts to learn more about the brutality of the games and how bad the other districts have it through Lilia's stories of being dispatched before he retired.

Idia (District 3) is Deuce's mentor and he's not very helpful. Idia won with smarts while Deuce goes into most things with brawn, and they both can't really communicate. There's also this child named Ortho that claims to be Idia's brother who keeps trying to talk to both of them, preaching about how good the games are. Idia gets very tense and quiet whenever Deuce tries to bring him into the conversation and be nice. All in all, Deuce doesn't get too much help from him.

Rook (District 11) is Epel's mentor and he teaches Epel how to fight. He's a bit silly and flamboyant (Epel thinks he's kinda girlie) but there's a darkness underneath his loud and exuberant exterior that has the boy trusting that the man with the blonde bob knows what he's talking about. Plus his precision with a bow proves that he knows how to fight.

Ace and Yuu's mentors are the Tweels (District 4) with Jade being Yuu's mentor and Floyd being Ace's. Given that District 12 has no victors, they had to bring in other victors from other districts, and these two volunteered. They're scary and off putting, but they're exactly what whips both tributes into shape before the games.

Azul is a mentor from District 4 who wasn't very strong but won through cunning. Many people, even the higher ups think he cheated, giving him a less than reputable reputation, but some people who watched his games and saw how he won all within the rules. He was a part of the reason the higher ups cracked down on the rules.

Silver lives in District 2 in the Victor's Village with Lilia. He's been safe from the reaping for years, and he doesn't quite remember when Lilia took him in, but he knows how terrible games are despite living in a pro-Capitol area. He nearly volunteered when he saw Sebek go up, but he knew he couldn't go in and make his father watch as he died (Lilia has to tell him every reaping that he just has to let everything play out).

Cater and Trey are stylists for the games, specifically for Ace and Deuce respectively. Both of them fear for their siblings' lives as they've helped the tributes promote rebel propaganda through their clothing outfits.

Leona is a District 1 victor and mentor who views the games as barbaric and wants to take them down. He fully knows the privilege he had that helped him win, and the rest of his family are living it up in the Capitol. Ruggie is a servant for him, and while he doesn't treat him with much respect, he is far better to him than his family, and he makes sure Ruggie is at least comfortable living in the Victor's Village.

Both Kalim and Jamil are District 8 victors and mentors, who won their games thanks to Kalim's family having high connections in the Capitol. The only reason Jamil is still alive is because Kalim trusted him, and Jamil promised himself to look out for his partner ever since.

Both Riddle and Malleus are Capitol babies, with Riddle being brainwashed into thinking the games are good and Malleus willfully turning a blind eye to everyone's suffering. The newest line of tributes gets them both to see how they can't ignore the fact that real children are being sent to kill each other.

I might edit some stuff around but this is the main cast in the hunger games with the freshmen being the tributes. Might write a scenario or two with this AU but let me know your thoughts! :D

[crooked-wasteland]

I’m weirdly torn about Lite’s character arc.

On one hand, feminine rage (yes please), she’s the only one who understands Hell can BE A THREAT (sure, Charlie and Pentious are nice and all, but there are other people in Hell who are probably not well intentioned), she’s rightfully pissed that her role as second in command was overlooked for some (admittedly sweet) guy who doesn’t even wanna be here, and she’s rightfully upset that her sisters and best friend/man she loved were murdered in a job that she was authorized to do by the supposed good guys. She shouldn’t be seen as the bad guy for being convinced by others that what she was doing was right, and is upset when she’s told all her work, her allies, and Adam being killed meant nothing.

On the other hand, she’s being depicted as the bad guy. I’m not saying she needs to be sympathetic, 100% likable, uwu babey. But her pain and issues are being brushed aside to make her appear like the stereotypical ��crazy bitch” who will probably be the villain of the season, or at least A villain. Not the antagonist, the VILLAIN. Her grief and valid opposition is more than likely going to be villainized, when in reality, she may be cold and sadistic, but I don’t this Lute is ultimately a bad person. She spent her existence fighting for what she was told is right by a holy figure. Not some cultist or priest who says God talks to them, but THE ACTUAL HIGH SERAPH. She was convinced angels don’t make mistakes, to the point she never questioned that in all her cruelty, if she was right or wrong. She believed she was right. If this were on Earth, on could compare this to crusaders or people who force conversions or kill anyone who doesn’t agree with their beliefs. But I don’t think that can really apply, because Lite isn’t human, she lives in HEAVAN. Religious asshole humans aren’t comparable to ANGELS who are familiar with THE SPEAKER FOR GOD HIMSELF. So her genuine belief she is doing good is understandable, but will probably be what makes her villainized. Or maybe it will be the fact she’s in mourning? Who knows! Viv will never skimp on presenting a woman as a villain for the flimsiest of reasons.

And on the other other hand. Yes, it suck a huge part of her motivation is her connection to a MAN (the first man, no less) who is a douchebag. But idk if that’s that big of an issue. For all her being sad her boss/love interest/a dude died, there’s also her being angry that her position as leader was passed over for some guy as well. I’m not saying it evens out, but maybe it does? Not to mention that even though Adam was a dick, he was more than just a man/asshole/boss/probably misogynist, he was also her friend, someone she looked up to as a leader, and still was comfortable enough to hang out with when not on the job. He called he names, but that might’ve been out of familiarity rather than genuine malice or sexism. Then again, Viv never really let us learn Jack shit about Adam as a person, other than CHARLIE GOOD, ADAM BAD. So while it is kind of iffy from one perspective for Lute’s arc to be connected to Adam, I don’t think it’s an issue of gender, and more of the fact that she meant something to him.

Sorry for the long ask, but what’re your thoughts?

I agree with pretty much all of this. I think she is an extremely compelling character and I think her deeper character reasons for being a real villain are solid. I even think the song itself is genuinely good at showing that Lite isn't only raging about some guy. The actual meat of her character is really well balanced on paper, and the song does a decent job of depicting that ...

Until it gets to Adam.

The issue is the poor pacing of the writers and how we never got to see Lute and Adam as much. Lute is extremely formal in most of the scenes in the early part of Hazbin. Calling Adam "sir" doesn't give the impression of "best friends", so she does come off as oddly obsessed, especially with the rushed "crazy bitch" routine as you pointed out. We don't actually have a strong foundation for their relationship. Additionally, the revival of Adam as a figment of Lute's imagination as she falls into some form of psychosis is just rather silly. I understand it's to give Lute someone to talk to, but it makes Adam as a love interest is the most important characterization.

I do completely agree with your points on Lute's character. She has excellent motivation, and a clear arc that I also think is worth the effort. It just suffers from weak world building and lazy shortcuts.

[wispythreads]

The Lair of the Shadowbroker DLC definitely earned its fan praise, in my opinion. This feels like Mass Effect 1 level of artistry and level design, I love it.

There were like, way too many enemies, and I still don't really feel great about how they changed Liara in just a two year time gap between the games, but I appreciate the way this DLC handled it, it made an effort that resulted in her feeling more like how she felt in the first game.

The scene after Tela got revealed as the one who had been trying to murder Liara at the start of all this was rough, Shepard and her slipping off the window ledge, falling together, slowed down only by Tela's biotics until she shoves Shepard the rest of the way to the ground, while she gets to gently float down to make her escape. That impact looked like it HURT, especially with how much effort she had to put into getting back up again.

Shepard honestly sounded so grumpy and dejected as she said "I'm okay, by the way, thanks for asking." before hopping into the car with Liara.

And speaking of the car, I loved the banter between Liara and Shepard the whole way through, but particularly during the car chase, which was really fun! "Head on Collision!" - Liara "I hear that's bad for people." - Shepard. All the little bits of back and forth were so great to listen to, wouldn't mind replaying just for that bit of the DLC alone.

The actual Lair itself was so so so pretty.

The boss fight against the Shadowbroker is probably my favorite across all all of Mass Effect 1 and 2? Especially with the cutscenes where Shepard realizes ah ok ammo won't do anything that's fine I'll just punch him

Really cool alien design too.

Mini thoughts from snooping on my squadmates dossiers below.

Straight up chortling over Mordin and Kirrahe's bickering and how it is preserved in their mission report He really should've realized something was going to be up on Maelon's end... Nice of them to try and shelter him from any repercussions for his outburst, but he needed followed up on much sooner than when Mordin thought he'd been kidnapped. The list of threat analysis against all the other main species holy- not surprising, honestly, based on what is known about Salarians, but still pretty interesting ... So not only is he a musical enthusiast in his spare time but also a Bill Nye the Science Guy type? That's neat. Good for him.

I hope we get to reunite Jack with her mom. That would be nice.

LEGION IS A GAMER I love this little cluster of AI so much. He has so many infractions on that online game that technically are true due to the fact that he's. Not an organic being. But the only one that sticks is him taunting other players- that's so silly aww… he bought the highest (and most likely most expensive) version of a game that was fundraising for the events of Eden Prime, just for the fundraiser. He did not play that game at all. He even tried a dating simulator oh my gosh. I don't think he's hopeless =( what a mean ranking for a dating sim. He's spent so much time on it, too… (not as much as the other games, but still a significant time investment my gosh)

ahhh this is where Grunt's fanon characterization of being Shepard's son starts coming in. I do think the main game version of him and his relationship with Shepard, a paragon!Shepard at that, is interesting, but it wasn't lining up with what I was seeing online. (and by main game version I mean the transition of [Talking about how great it is we've got so many strong enemies to fight against] "I don't plan on living like this forever" "Talk like that and it won't be your choice. I'm sure as hell not quitting with a whimper. Just so you're clear where we stand." [Hyper aggressive and enjoying memories of gruesome kills] "I'm not sure I want to keep coming down for these talks..." "Whatever. Don't have to be friends to be allies." [Still hyper aggressive and enjoying memories of gruesome kills] "Y'know, I kind of thought connecting with your past would bring stability." "Ha! See, now we're having fun. Me remembering good deaths, and you with your... funny human thing you're doing.") I think there is something very sweet about him being enamored with dinosaurs and looking up to Shepard so much that he wants to know about the whole of Humanity's history as warriors :')

The transmission between Samara and her daughters... all the things she had to give up in order to become a Justicar...

!!! THANE GET THE LUNG TRANSPLANT YOU HAVE A SON YOU NEED TO CONNECT WITH AND I CARE ABOUT YOU SO MUCH DON'T JUST GIVE UP AND DIE IN A YEAR!! LIVE! LIVE AS A PERSON AND NOT A WEAPON!! I love how his kill methods are so elaborate and the alternate methods are equally intricate, with the Krogan's main method understandably being the most involved and calculated. And then you get to their alternate method and it's just one word. It gives this impression of hands to his head exhausted and resigned.

... Garrus's family… his mom…. god that's hitting a little too close to my heart....

[shitposttcentral]

What The RDR2 Characters Would Do At Pride || pt 1

Arthur Morgan - He is happily celebrating! He has 2 dads, a husband, and a son (Lenny) he thinks may be lgbt. So he's celebrating extra hard okay lots of rainbows lots of cheering. This is his Super Bowl. He isn't opposed to blocking homophobes from being awful. Dutch Van Der Linde - At first he's trying to adopt more little displaced/homeless LGBT youth to join their found family. When Hosea tells him to stop he does focus on the others and making sure everyone has a good time. Bill Williamson - On a float waving a Bear Pride Flag. Had no idea everyone else was coming was embarrassed at first but just avoided them the rest of the night and didn't talk about it after. Lenny Summers - Sporting that vintage I ❤️ My Gay Dads shirt he found in the back of Arthur's closet. He's bi and not quite ready to come out yet but we'll get there. For now, he just says he's there to be supportive. Kieran Duffy: A guy hits on him and he says he has a girlfriend. Then he feels so bad he spends the rest of the night trying to over-enthusiastically be an ally. Signed up to volunteer at some events and kept shouting ALLY. Mary-Beth Gaskill: Is trying to reign in Kieran from all the apologizing and shouting ally. She bought some really cute stuff from booths though and has made lots of friends to craft with. Uncle: They lost him at some point and everyone kind of panicked until they saw him sitting on a float with a bunch of lesbians tossing out beads or candy. He is now the cool uncle to about 30 or so very nice lesbians. Abigail Marston: Head-to-toe bi colors very excited to be out very happy to be out. Makes sure everyone is drinking enough water and has on sunscreen. When the babysitter takes Jack though she really starts to party and has so much fun. She talks about how happy she is for weeks after and is already making plans to go back. John is happy that she's happy.

[maleyanderecafe]

Bad End Cinderella (Visual Novel)

Created by: Hamartia

Genre: Horror/Tragedy

Bad End Cinderella is pretty good for a more horror based yandere. It's about a king who just won't let go of his love and delusionally does everything he can to be with his love after his divorce to his queen. The king is kind of a jerk honestly and it's great. It can only end in tragedy and that makes the game better.

The story starts with Claude arranging a divorce with his wife, and is very annoyed and bitter about it. He thinks about his childhood friend, Ella, as he signs the divorce papers and the past they had together. It seemed that they were very close friends until Claude ended up shunning her at a party for basically being a poor commoner. Although he writes a letter afterwards apologizing, he never gets anything back. Claude's obsession gets stronger and stronger, as he realizes that he could now marry her after his divorce, convinced that the two are meant to be together. He ends up going to Esra, a powerful prophet about what their future will be together. While reluctant, Esra ends up seeing a tragic future for the two, begging that they stop before he does something irreversible. Claude upon hearing this doesn't seem to care at all, so as long as he can be together with Ella. He decides to look for allies and ends up running into a knight named Floren, who seems to hate Claude. The two have some history together as children, and he seems annoyed that Claude is just doing all of this and trying to take Ella. The end is him contemplating about what he should do with the

It's a rather short demo, but I am a sucker for watching a yandere's spiral into madness. Claude himself is a pretty terrible person, annoyed by everything and delusional believing that Ella will be his despite having not seen her in so long. He has no idea if she has another lover and the two essentially ended on bad terms despite the fact that Claude sent an apology letter. Despite the warning Esra has for him, he keeps going, and I assume as the story goes on, he will just keep ignoring the advice of others and just pushes through until he reaches the end, which at that point he won't have any way to escape and will just have to face the consequences of his actions. Like I said, the setup for tragedy is already there and so with dramatic irony we just watch him fall into the abyss, as it were.

The artwork is by Jambee (I'd assume) considering that it looks very much like Sunny Day Jack (style wise). As per usual, the artwork looks very good and professional (though I'm not sure what's with Jambee's thing of giving everyone that swoopy front hair because it makes everyone look like Jack-whatever) and it's really cool to see all of the CGs for it.

Overall, I think it's a good start for a demo. Considering it was made in 9 hours, that's pretty impressive for a game like this. Hopefully we get to see more development of this game in the future.

[zmediaoutlet]

happy wincest wednesday! pick an unlikely episode for first time wincest and describe how you think it could happen!

hello hello, ty for thinking of me! happy wincest wednesday, let's see if i can scrape together an actual creative thought --

I think last time we talked about the Tiger Mommy ep and that would indeed be a horrible time for it, but this time let's try... 4.04, Metamorphosis.

One of my favorite eps! And one of my favorite times for established relationship (tho, lbr, every time is my favorite time for established relationship, I like it so much better than first time haha) -- and CERTAINLY there are ways I can see a first time here, but let's talk first about why it would suck.

A few things happening here: Dean sees that Sam is working with Ruby on his icky powers, which is a) explicitly what Dean wished Sam wouldn't do, but also and kind of more importantly b) it's Sam cheating, which in this context means -- lying to Dean, working with this demon bitch that Dean knows is fucking with Sam and Sam won't listen, sneaking around behind Dean's back when Dean is very very fresh from Hell and knows for a fucking FACT that working with demons is very bad indeed. Like if anyone knows demons at this point, it's Dean, and here he sees Sam using the powers they gave him? Five alarm fire. Then of course there's the angel element -- Dean's an obedient boy in a panic, he doesn't want to have winged spectators to any of this shit. God told them not to do it! THEN of course there's the guy who knew their dad giving them the job in the first place, which reorients them into a surveiled world -- more even than the angels, this is a harsh yanking-back into the dynamic-that-was, with them being John's Sons who are supposed to act in Certain Ways (Dean the rough-and-tumble jock, Sam forced to playact about being a mathlete), and that puts up walls between the them they were and the them they could be. Plus they just don't like each other much this ep and frankly that should be enough of a barrier, most of the time.

Nevertheless! Let's say they fuck about it. Or, really, let's say they do the more interesting thing, which is not to fuck but to realize that the fucking is a wild and real possibility, at which point they have broken the incest barrier already -- no amount of 'oh but we shouldn't' can put that prank snake back into the peanut brittle can, boys. What I would find particularly compelling would be the Sam who's furiously trying to break out of that closet when Jack's got Dean on the table, when Sam thinks Dean's going to be lost to him again, this soon after getting him back, realizing -- fuck, it's not just that Dean's his brother. Putting Jack down and pulling Dean up weak from the most recent concussion and Dean flinching at the fresh bruises and thinking that he wants to kiss him -- or not even kiss him, that's too freshman year and simple -- that he wants in this all-encompassing way that goes beyond brother and ally and parent and best (only) friend. That what Lilith took from him was worse than he even realized. That he wants to get skin to skin and breath to breath and wants to show Dean everything and have him accept it and accept Sam and also that he wants -- this blurring strange shift of how he fucks Ruby because it's stress relief and intimacy and how he could fuck -- how it could be -- different, with Dean. How it could make things better. If they could.

None of which he can say out loud because there's a burning corpse in this house and Dean's concussed and Dean doesn't trust him. But the first time is then, regardless of whether they bump uglies. They can do that later, and will. But it's a good barrier-shattering moment, either way.

[twistedtummies2]

Top 10 Portrayals of Inspector Lestrade

Having just finished my list of my favorite fictional detectives, I felt it was time to return to my absolute favorite of the bunch: Sherlock Holmes. In the past, I have done lists related to Holmes himself, as well as his friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, and his arch-nemesis, Professor Moriarty. I recently revisited those three countdowns to see if I would change anything, and…at the moment, no, I think they’re still pretty solidly set. HOWEVER, I’ve never gone over any of the other major characters in the Sherlock Holmes universe since those three. I haven’t covered his other allies, or any other noteworthy antagonists he faced. So, I decided it was time to fix that problem. These lists WILL have descriptions, but they’ll be very brief, partially just because I don’t have a TON to say about most of the characters/portrayals involved. We’ll start off with a Top 10 devoted to Scotland Yard’s most competent detective, Inspector Lestrade.

In the books, Lestrade is one of Holmes’ closest compatriots. While the super sleuth frequently interacts with various Scotland Yard officers, Lestrade is the most recurring, and has the most rapport with Sherlock. Their relationship is an…interesting one, to say the least. On the one hand, the two do care about each other, and there is some level of mutual respect under their respective, prickly surfaces. However, the pair bicker constantly, and always seem to be trying to one-up each other. Holmes concedes that Lestrade is probably the best detective at the Yard, but with the caveat that he is “the best of a bad bunch.” Lestrade, meanwhile, often tries to downplay Holmes’ unique skills in favor of boosting his own ego, and is forever frustrated by Sherlock’s antics. At the same time, he recognizes Holmes is very helpful to himself and the force, and for all his faults, he always manages to help the Inspector catch the crooks in the end. Indeed, the main reason Lestrade usually fails is because he ironically tends to jump the gun: he’s someone who fails to look at the big picture, or else notice the smaller details, which is what Holmes is very good at. If he just took his time more, he could probably get to the bottom of things more quickly…but Holmes can do all that in an instant, so it’s a good thing he’s hanging around. Different interpretations throughout adaptations and reimaginings of the Holmes universe have reinterpreted Lestrade in a number of ways (and with no less than two different pronunciations of his name; “Leh-strawed” seems to be the most common, but a couple choose to say “Less-trade”). Some versions of him are more comical and bungling, while some are more serious but still not quite as brilliant as Holmes. Some make the character more bullheaded and easily angered, while others make him more supportive and friendly. Many of the best find some sort of balance between these disparate elements; while he may not get the kudos that Holmes and Watson get, Lestrade is an interesting character in his own right, with a lot of layers writers, actors, and directors can play with. Having said that, here are some I particularly enjoy. So STOP IN THE NAME OF THE LAW! Here are My Top 10 Favorite Portrayals of Inspector Lestrade.

10. Frank Finlay, from A Study in Terror & Murder By Decree.

Finlay played Lestrade, by sheer coincidence, in two completely different films that have the same premise: Sherlock Holmes vs. Jack the Ripper. He looks, sounds, and generally behaves exactly the same in both movies, too. It’s rather uncanny, really.

9. Eddie Marsan, from the Guy Ritchie Films.

In the first film, Lestrade is a major character, and the way they play with his relationship with Sherlock is surprising; it’s just a shame he’s little more than a cameo in the second film.

8. Jeffrey Jones, from Without a Clue.

Arguably the most bumbling version of the character on this list. However, since this movie is an outright comedy, I don’t mind this. (Please keep a certain elephant out of the room; I am only addressing portrayals of the character, not the people who played them.)

7. Peter Madden, from the 60s BBC Series.

In some ways, I think this might be the most book-accurate take on Lestrade, especially in terms of physical appearance. Madden only played the character in the first season of the series; in the second season, actor William Lucas took over. Weirdly enough, Madden did appear in the second season playing a completely different character in one episode. Not really sure why he was recast.

6. Dennis Hoey, from the Universal Films.

Alongside Jones, the most bungling version of Lestrade, frequently used as comic relief. In most of the films - not all, but most - he makes Nigel Bruce’s infamously doofy Watson look like a genius in comparison. He’s a lot of fun, though, and the chemistry between the three performers is great every time.

5. Rupert Graves, from Sherlock.

Arguably the most serious version of Lestrade on the list. I love the sort of normalcy he brings to the crazy world of Holmes and Watson, and the way he’s able to just put up with all the nonsense Sherlock shoves onto him, as well as find ways to rein Holmes in.

4. Archie Duncan, from the 50s TV Series.

This Lestrade is able to be extremely funny without actually being a moron; while he always needs Holmes to help him out, it’s mostly just because he’s impulsive and hotheaded, and therefore doesn’t always think things through or notice the details Sherlock notices. (Just like in the books.) Duncan, like Peter Madden, would weirdly play other characters in the show BESIDES Lestrade, including a villain in one story. Very talented performer who was always good to see in action!

3. The Version from Moriarty the Patriot.

This is probably the most friendly and encouraging version of Lestrade on the list, though he still gets righteously annoyed with both Holmes AND Moriarty in the series. I love his energy and the integrity the character has in the show; like Holmes, he’s willing to bend the rules to see justice done, and will never give up no matter what, which explains why they like each other above all else.

2. Akiko Morison, from Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century.

This version is a female descendant of the original inspector, named Beth Lestrade. She actually was more of a standout to me in this show than Watson was! Once again, this version isn’t depicted is an idiot - she’s fiery, strong, and very good at her job, with great instincts. Her problem is that, once again, she doesn’t always pick up on the details or fully understand the situation, which leads to conflict and her need to have Holmes around.

1. Colin Jeavons, from the Granada Series.

The definitive take on Lestrade, just as Jeremy Brett was the definitive take on Holmes, in my opinion. Jeavons plays Lestrade as a slightly pompous and rather sarcastic police officer, but he also seems to be one of the versions of the character who has the best sort of relationship with Sherlock. I love the chemistry between the pair, and how they each seem to sort of admire each other, though neither will ever admit it. At the same time, that competitive rivalry between the two has rarely been showcased better. Altogether marvelous.

[teenycat]

you said you had lore ideas, my friend? Spill the beans (It's wheezer's alt)

(this is a post about potential tlkoe thrull redemption arcs to anyone stumbling here without context)

hoooo boy i'm gonna try to organize this into something of a list. it's still gonna be chaotic and lengthy as all heck and probably will be missing context in some bits tho so strap in

looking over all my unused au ideas, ive found most of the thrull redemptions depend on a few primary motivations

we don't know his canon motivations for being evil yet other than "he's loyal to rezzoch" so i've cobbled together a couple of my own

there probably will be a canon backstory for thrull in the books but they havent gotten there yet so my best guesses so far in no particular order are:

vengeance

he's mad at the world, maybe he was the victim of some systemic injustice, maybe he just got really screwed over by one nasty individual. anyway whatever hurt him, he wants to see it burn.

here he can learn to forgive their mistakes and/or realize that he's messing everything up way worse than whoever messed him up. he's repeating a cycle and making things worse, not better

fear

he witnessed the full power of rezzoch, maybe he's witnessed civilisations crumbling at her touch, maybe he's semi-possessed and being threatened regularly, maybe he made a warlock-style pact and rezzoch might collect his soul at any moment and he wants to pay off his debt. anyway end point is he's scared and thinks the only way he and everything he cares about can be spared is by getting on rezzoch's good side.

this kinda arc would be centered around building his confidence. if a thirteen year old kid can beat off rezzoch with nothing but a baseball bat and the power of friendship, so can you big man.

uh... grooming?

this is probably not the best word but idk what other way to say it. some other member of the cult or maybe even a deity, maybe even rezzoch herself, but someone he looked up to and tried to imitate/impress pressured him to join when he didnt know better.

again, confidence. that person never had your best interests in mind and they might not even be around anymore. you dont owe them undying loyalty and the fate of the realm lol

this one i like the best

maybe someone he cares about is trapped in rezzoch's dimension and he's trying to unleash everything from that realm even if it means dooming ours and his own.

we could either find an alternative way to free said person/thing, or just have thrull learn to cope with losing them/it.

not sure if this counts as its own reason, probably just an additional part of any of the above

he screwed up somethin real bad and now he thinks he's too far gone to go back.

redemption is learning self love idk

SPOILERS FOR The Monster Dimension

we learn near the end of book 10 that thrull used to be a hero/adventurer with his own crew n stuff, a whole bunch of parallels were drawn between him and jack. he's probably got a bunch of heroic qualities buried under the evil-ness which i think would be so so cool to explore

he probably loves the thrill of hand-to-hand combat with worthy enemies, the freedom of the open road, grateful smiles of the people he saved, the brotherhood forged between allies who have seen battle together... i wouldnt be surprised if he was secretly into romance n stuff even tho it's not a big thing in monster culture

i really. REALLY want to see him as a father figure for jack. i an unused au where its just. jack latching onto thrull and thrull getting attached over time. they have stuff in common and. idk it just tickles my brain. he doesn't even have to be redeemed. thrull could stay evil and convince jack to join the dark side or sum. i'm GOING to make a toxic paternal thrack au the moment i get the motivation to make a solid storyline

i honestly think part of the reason i like him so much is cause we've seen so little of his character so i can just spit whatever flavors i want onto him and have it still fit into canon

gnawing on this stupid stupid withered old crusty man

anyway if you're still reading then thanks for listening to me yap i didnt think anyone would actually b interested because im not great with words

[shadystranger]

People need to accept that Dean never loved Castiel.

There's a reason for a good while i felt bad for cass and it's not bc i care about him profoundly but bc he was treated that bad

Like aside from the one liners about him being family here and there (which are unarguably few on their own) it never seems like it rings true in dean's actual actions. Alot of their relationship is purely convenient on dean's part and the 2nd it stops the fact dean's ready to exclude cass from this playhouse psuedo-family he put him in. 'Why does that something wrong always seem to be you?' 'You're dead to me', and he kicks him out of the bunker; He's family, but no typical extreme procedure is done to bring him back when he dies. Salted and burned right away with what's dead is dead it's over which we have seen dean not really uphold with certain few.

If Michael meant anything and take this with a grain of salt he tells cass about dean's "honest thoughts" and yes this was intentional to break their spirits but he didn't make it up when he said dean feels indebted to him (in the negative way) but thinks he's a screw up. Like this is telling to some extent (not entirely bc yk manipulation) but when you recall things from the beginning and till then it lines up here and there. The i need you speech was an insincere plea to get cass to not kill him, dean later tells sam he doesn't care if cass drops dead. And the countable other times is dean saying cass is family in retrospect to jack, its like he acknowledges cass only when he's othering jack but on a good day he's othering both of them normal.

Even the apology in s15 which sounded out of nowhere and shoehorned to the point its ill-fitting narrative-wise but let's take it, this one was also told at a time dean needed sth from cass desperately. Im not calling it insincere altogether but ehh appeal to authority and whatnot calls for question.

Like this hit cass for a reason bc it was true

dean screaming he'll trade everyone for chuck while cass is in the background but he puts the line at sam alone. dean happily eating pie and living a domestic life after cass's death, the only one who brings him up is sam (and later bobby) and dean looks like he has better things to focus on both times.

Im not saying dean hates cass bc it's factually false but i dont personally think he loves him all that either. He loves the convenience maybe the things cass symbolizes (family/friends/originally powerful allies) but he doesn't pour his all or even half the way he did with benny which just felt more genuine and raw from the get-go.

[sureokyeahwhatever]

i finished vampire the masquerade bloodlines after chipping away at it for a couple weeks after work. Those first 2/3rds of the game are a genuine masterpiece, but man, that last third gets really, really weird and racist.

The thing is, is that I actually have very little to say about that first 2/3rds. It's just good. The design is great, it's well balanced, it's open ended, it has great characters. It's wonderful. This part of the game feels like a real, worthy successor to Deux Ex. There's just nothing more to say, I think.

...

And that's why I almost have a hard time believing it's written by the same people as the last bit. The whole game up to that point (up to just before chinatown) is pretty darn smartly written with some relatively cogent social commentary. The quality of the missions also takes a really, really steep dive in that section too (lots of run and gun hallways, lots of extremely buggy areas, shitty boss fights, etc. But that's honestly understandable because balancing the endgame of an ImSim is practically impossible). Idk, it feels like a totally different game. I could almost just forgive all of that though, if it weren't for the ungodly and seemingly genuine racism with regards to the east Asian vampires.

Like. Ok. If we're being VERY charitable and we just flatly forgive all of the misguided-though-not-malintentioned 2000s era attempts at humor-via-stereotype (dialogue options referencing "tentacles" directed at a young japanese woman; old chinese guys who are always loud and drunk; jingoistic WWII-surviving japanese soldier; Chinese businessman speaking in riddles and mentioning the I-Ching; so on and so on) the whole handling of the "chinese vampire" storyline is psychotically racist.

You first hear of these guys -- the Kuei-Jin, which I learn from the wiki is a portmanteau of the Mandarin word for ghost and a the Japanese word for person, which... ok. -- as being basically like animals. They slaughter who ever they see, lots of people in the bourgeois faction see them as a nuisance, the people in the anarchist faction see them as "invaders from the east," which already had me like "Jesus fucking Christ, maybe these anarchist guys aren't cool after all". But anyway, you go to Chinatown to talk to them and -- by my estimation -- they were basically the same as everyone else. They're protective of their territory, they're secretive, they're paranoid of outsiders... I mean, yeah, they're fucking vampires and apparently all the other vampires see them as sub-human, so yeah, I'd be paranoid and secretive around me too.

The thing is, is that you have this anarchist friend who you tell everything to -- Jack -- and I wanted to go tell him "hey, I don't think these guys are so bad. Maybe we misjudged them" or something like that. And there was a dialogue option along the lines of that, but when I said it, his response was something to the effect of "don't let them sweet talk you with their 'spiritual path' bullshit. That stuff ain't for /us/". Which, I heard and again, said "ah! Interesting writing decision! We're learning that Jack ALSO has flaws like everyone else! he's not just some perfectly cool, levelheaded badass -- he has unjustified prejudices just like everyone else!" So I continued the story under the assumption that, yes, while the surface level of the whole "Chinese vampire" thing was being handled in a really immature, racist way, and in-universe all the other factions seemed to see them as exactly that -- racist stereotypes of conniving, backstabbing Chinese mafia goons -- this was all setting up an interesting "let's all learn to put our cultural differences aside and defeat those rich assholes who want to rule LA"-style ending. This would not be the case.

There was a moment towards the end that I THOUGHT confirmed my suspicion. You are told by the leader of the bourgeois faction to convince the anarchist faction to ally with them so they can, together, take down the Kuei-Jin. Around this time you also are intercepted by the leader of the Kuei-Jin who straight up warns you "hey, that bourgeois guy set me up. He's about to set you up too. Be careful. I hope we can be friends in the future." So I get this information and go straight to the anarchist faction with the intention to say "Ok, bourgeois guys are obviously doing a power play. Now's the time to join with the Kuei-Jin and take them out. We'll settle our petty differences later." (Side note, yes, I understand they were recently at war, but war happens in these situations. The best way to prevent another war is actively making peace. Not by just constantly threatening to go BACK to war). But no such option was available. Instead, all the options were different variations on "Let's join with the bourgeois faction and kill those Chinese guys!" What? But I don't want to kill those guys! And I don't really trust either of these other factions either because the anarchists are racists and the bourgeois guys are, well, bourgeois guys.

So eventually the "ending-tron 3000" comes up in the form of a conversation with a taxi driver which, as far as ending-trons go, is pretty cute. If you decide to ally with the Kuei-Jin two things happen: one, everyone hates you because it's completely impossible to convince anyone that they are anything other than parasites, and two, they kill you in a cutscene and you die in the ocean, which, all things considered, is probably the worst possible way this whole story line could have been handled. There was an opportunity here to have an exceptionally interesting moment where you bring people together to fight in solidarity against those who seek to concentrate their power over the city and all it's inhabitants. There could have been an ending where you work together with the Kuei-Jin and the anarchists to get rid of the bourgeois faction, render the "anarchist" faction system redundant, and allow LA vampires to establish their own federated society where people can live where and how they please without the iron fist of some Ivory tower pretty boys telling everyone how to live their lives. You could establish a system of vampire democracy across LA, with all the benefits and negatives that it brings. Would LA then be crushed under the heel of the bourgeois faction coming in from other cities? Or would it be able to stand the test of time and serve as an example for other cities to rise up and do the same? There's some interesting stuff here, both politically and for individual characters as perhaps you have to work extra hard to get Jack and the rest of the anarchists to believe that the Kuei-Jin are, despite superficial differences, just vampires like they are and that they all share common interests.

Instead, the game goes hard in the other direction. It calls you an idiot for trusting those eastern invaders and basically says "you should have listened to everyone else when they were mumbling under their breath about how you can't trust those Kuei-Jin as far as you can throw them". i.e., you were an idiot for not being racist enough. Like, I can understand the general theme of "trust no one", since it permeates through the whole game, but to literally introduce a faction of "conniving foreigners" who everyone hates, and then to have that hate be perfectly justified just feels boring, hateful, and honestly like a waste of a third of what was otherwise a great, great game.

Anyway. The game is good. Great, even! It's really hard to make an ImSim, so even though the last third has some rough (ROUGH) design flaws and bugs, I'm happy to look past that. However, it's really easy to not just put Chinese people in your game and make them evil stereotypes that everyone rightfully hates, so that's harder to look past.

I would say the ideal way to experience the game is to marathon the first chapter up to downtown, play less and less frequently from downtown up until the end of hollywood or so, and gradually lose interest around the time that you're asked to go to Chinatown. I think if you did that, you'd end up remembering the game very fondly.

[silliam-billiam]

Spoilers for One Piece post Marineford/Egghead

Hot take, but Monkey D Dragon is a little bitch.

Bro is the ~*Most dangerous criminal in the world*~ but does literally nothing????? Like what does he do??? He abandoned HIS OWN SON because “The child is a weakness” or some shit. M8 it’s been proven time and time again that fighting for something (especially family) MAKES A BETTER CREW

•Whitebeard

•Strawhats

•LITERAL PIRATE KING

“Oh but he just doesn’t have the time to raise a child!”

Okay dragon

Okay

WHAT IS THIS

WHAT IS IT DRAGON

He says he wants to protect Luffy, but then sends him to live with Garp. Hoe that is NOT protection. “Oh he saved them from Smoker and Buggy” you mean the one Marine that actually cares about justice and the pirate they literally already defeated? So you can save him from Smoker but not your Croco ex-wife???? Bitch the lighting saved Luffy, not you.

SPEAKING OF WHICH *Pretend I smack a whiteboard right here*

MARINEFORD

WHERE WERE YOU

I literally looked it up and all I got was Reddit posts like nobody knows. So now I gotta ask, what is more important than Marineford?? Like especially to dragon.

•Iva is there (Fresh out of Impel Down)

•Kuma is there

•Luffy is there

•Whitebeard is there

•Multiple crews are all united to fight the government and broadcasted worldwide (SOUNDS GOOD FOR A REBELLION HMMM???)

•SON OF PIRATE KING

OH YEAH AND ALSO

•EVERY

•SINGLE

•ADMIRAL

DRAGON THIS WAS YOUR ONE CHANCE TO DO AS MUCH DAMAGE PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE TO THE WORLD GOVERNMENT OUTSIDE OF NUKING MARIEJOA. WHERE WERE YOU????

SPEAKING OF DRAGON NOT DOING SHIT.

WHO IS THIS DRAGON. TELL ME

DO YOU REMEMBER HER YOU SWINE????

He really said “Ooooooohh nah we can’t saveeee her because uhhhh she can handle it or whatever”

YOU

DON’T

KNOW

THAT

Kuma, along with everybody else in this entire fucking organization ACTUALLY DOES.

Dragon is the only child of a Marine Vice Admiral, and compared to literally everyone else in the OP world, is extremely privileged. Bro was educated, always fed, and his father had a well respected and stable job. He doesn’t know jack shit about what Celestial Dragons do on the inside. Unless, of course, he *did* know how bad they were from Garp or smth (MEANING HE REFUSED TO SAVE HER KNOWING WHAT THEY’D DO) or unless he had spies in Mariejoa (IN WHICH CASE WHY DID HE NOT SAVE HER??) OR MAYBE HE COULD USE THE ONE PERSON WHO

• CAN TELEPORT ANYWHERE

• KNOWS THE LAYOUT OF MARIEJOA’S SLAVE SYSTEM

• WANTS TO SAVE HER DESPERATELY

MAN IS TAKING LEAPS AND BOUNDS TO ABANDON THIS WOMAN FOR WHAT PURPOSE? ONE OF HIS FRIEND AND ALLIES (Kuma) HAS LOST SOMEBODY VERY IMPORTANT. I’ve seen people make connections with Luffy and Vivi but that’s a whole different thing bcz Luffy both A) wants to save her and B) knows she’s not with celestial dragons.

Now I hate him, post Kuma backstory I hate him more for what he did to my girl. But I also know that a lot of this stuff is still undetermined. Oda has a knack for making me love character within a very small amount of chapters. I’m open to liking this guy, but everything he’s done so far is annoying me to hell. If Iva trusts him, I trust him for now, but DAYM all this guy does is stare East at the kid he abandoned and his maybe dead probably trans ex-wife.

[tw1nkee28]

Hello sorry for asking another question again I like your characters a lot and I was wondering what’s Jack’s and Dawn’s opinion on Pixel, I just want to make sure I make them act the right way and make sure Dawn isn’t scared of my little burnt boi, or Jack dislikes him

Okokay !! Lemmeee think about this HGSHD

While I can think of characters separately, every time someone asks me this question my brain goes blank since I haven't really done any roleplays to show how they interact or think about each other so I'll just have to wing it JHDHDH

Jackrabbit:

He probably thinks fondly of Pixel, like many others, but I do think it'd be a bit of that fond irritation you get for someone that you care about but they're also sort of a nuisance (like my brother, he's a pain in my ass but I love him)

I say this because of how Jack probably has to drag him around to get things done like force feeding him his meds, giving him that intervention we talked about yesterday HSGHD, or just overall medical attention and checkups.

He would risk his life for that man. 1, because he's a shadow and one of his own; and 2, because he sees him as a good friend and someone that he doesn't want to chance losing. He probably wouldn't outright show how much he cares, only really acting fondly annoyed by him (like when someone tells a joke so bad that you just sorta frown at them while you try not to laugh)

Most of his responses consist of "mhm?" "Mh." "That's great" etc, like a parent whose child keeps showing them shit and they're trying to be supportive but they can't really say much...

TLDR: he cares deeply about him and acts annoyed by him despite feeling very fond of him and his actions. He tries his hardest to take care of him even when Pixel tries to avoid it (ex. Taking meds)

—------------------------------------------------------—

Dawn:

(hdhhdh this is the one I gotta think hard about)

Okokay, since we haven't really talked too much about their interactions, I don't really have toooo much to say for Dawn's thoughts.

I know that he would see Pixel as a good teammate and trustworthy ally, maybe a bit intriguing because of how he's dressed. (mask, hood, glasses, etc.) He might be a bit weary or distrustful of him at first mainly because of the way he covers up completely, essentially hiding his identity from him (he gets a little paranoid, no actual ill feelings towards him)

If they got to know each other a bit better in the future, then he'd probably lose that distrust. But for the time being, he views him as just another shadow, another person to keep safe but also not get too close to. He might either try to distance himself from Pixel because he sees a bit of himself in 'em and he doesn't wanna think about that, OR try to stay a bit closer to Pixel because of that same reason, trying to give him the support system he wished he had.

He would respect him and what he does as a soldier, would probably trust his judgement on stuff pretty easily.

—------------------------------------------------------—

That's pretty much all I can think of for now

If you wanted to know something specific that I didn't list in here, feel free to dm me or send an ask at any time ! I promise I don't bite hshdh 😭

I do hope this answered at least some of your questions, thank you for the ask 🫶

[lunarbard]

Hi, your borderlands post is super interesting! I got into Borderlands 2 through a friend years ago, but the themes of corpo greed really stuck with me enough to revisit the series even now. Curious, what are your thoughts on the presequel?

I don't have the pre-sequel as memorized as BL2 unfortunately, mainly due to some gameplay issues (side quests being near-required and overall annoying, some of the most nightmarish enemies in the series) I've only really seen Athena's, Nisha's, and Willhelm's responses throughout the campaign. This is particularly an issue for TPS since (unlike 3), each vault hunter's unique responses represent their perspective and therefore build on the game's themes.

While the game has its issues, it feels like Anthony Burch (here using Burch as a synecdoche for the writing team as he was the lead writer for BL2 & TPS) was working through an idea of what the series was about when writing it, and it is an absolute shame we never got to see a BL3 following that line of thinking (in fact BL3 didn't pay any attention to TPS and seems to have read a misinformed spark notes summary).

The pre-sequel's portrayal of jack highlights how not every corporate leader in the universe is the kind of villain to scoop out somebody's eyes with a spoon and laugh when telling the story, but they're still awful people. When you meet him, Jack's already pretty bad: he's already locked up his daughter and turned her into a secret weapon and he treats those he has power over like shit (unless he thinks they're useful or "cool" enough). He still thinks of himself as a hero, however, and over the course of the game you watch him make decisions he deems necessary and heroic that are simple cruelties to those who trusted him. I think his interaction with the Meriff is rather telling here: Jack initially lets him live because it's part of his heroic script, then gets angry not really because the man betrayed him, but because it made him abandon his script.

Zarpedon is a fantastic anti-villain, basically a complete inverse of Handsome Jack in BL2. She has set herself to a terrible purpose in hopes of saving the universe from corporate greed, recognizing (rightly) that the moment any of the corporations learned about the vault of the watcher they would never leave it alone. The game basically smacks you over the head at various points about how much she cares about other people, and therefore her decision to destroy Elpis - at the cost of everyone on it - was actually a painful decision for her. She doesn't betray her allies, and doesn't even try to directly interfere with the vault hunters. Instead, she mainly just aids and/or warns people they were trying to kill anyways. Easily her best line is at the end of an early side quest to pay last respects to one of her fallen soldiers she couldn't recover: "You will not have my mercy, but you do have my respect."

They also contrast her with Jack when he protests that she's killing innocent people, she agrees, and he decides she's lost her mind. Jack's death toll in BL2 is likely far more than what Zarpedon would have wrought destroying Elpis, but it all works in his mind since he already decided those people weren't "innocent." Accepting the need to cause harm to someone for a greater good without refusing their humanity is an alien concept to him; he must make everything he does sound morally correct in his head.

I also like how the game explores the identities of what kinds of people serve the corporations with each of the vault hunters. You have the three who enjoy the status quo: Nisha enjoys cruelty in the name of justice, Willhelm is a merc with no morals, and Aurelia got her wealth from her family exploiting people. Then there's Claptrap, who's literally owned by the Hyperion corporation and gets modified without much question of his will (and then scrapped and dumped by Jack, alongside all of his product line). Timothy became one of Jack's body doubles to pay off his student loans, employment that permanently changes his appearance and labels him disposable. Athena needed money, but she also needed a purpose after losing the only one she had known as an Atlas assassin.

Of course, as the narrator, we get a lot more insight into Athena's perspective as one of the many people in this universe searching for a new meaning to their life and their potential. Given the nature of the universe in Borderlands, most people likely end up in the corporate machine because there aren't other evident options. Many of them would have their lives so defined by their role in the corporation, wherever that is, that when they are betrayed or discarded by that corporation they won't know where else to go. Maybe they'll have some vengeance on their mind, maybe they'll just ply their trade wherever they can to keep living, but it's hard to move on from that sort of world-shattering experience for a purpose other than survival. Athena is one of the few with the benefit of training and opportunity to survive that betrayal and find a new purpose. At the beginning of the pre-sequel she took on Jack's offer mainly since she needed money, but I think that line she singles out - "Come to the moon, hunt a vault, be a hero" - clues into how she still susceptible to some of the same concepts of heroism that Jack's obsessed with. By the end of the game she leaves that mindset behind and tries to find a new life with Janey Springs, but as we glimpse in Tales from the Borderlands, the life the two of them try to find - just avoiding all the problems with corporations and vaults - isn't sustainable.

Unfortunately, we never got the last part of that arc because BL3 is a trash fire that ironically cares more about its corporations and guns than its characters, but Athena's natural next step after TPS and Tales would be to listen to her conscience and join the cause of protecting people from corporate greed and its consequences.