#Like. Horrifying. Uniquely and utterly horrifying. But so fascinating

[ratcandy]

also whats weird is like, that mushroom gotta be like ATTACHED to his brain?? no way he doesnt have brain damage from that. also its not hard to imagine that with all his intense mushroom use, that he'd have some sort of substance use disorder. and he is, suddenly, in a DEATH CULT. actually. i dont feel like anyone talks about the last part. ?? doesnt anyone wonder how hard it would be to adjust just suddenly. being in a cult? we dont really know how his life was before but if he wasnt in a cult beforehand then id imagine all the Cult Stuff would be at least a little uncomfortable.

I guess it would depend to what extent we're leaning into the parasite actually being a cordycep. Because if we're going full throttle on that, teeechnically cordyceps don't attach to the brain at all and only control the musculature; hence why I always hc'd that there's two different mushrooms involved, with the menticide doing the brain fuckery and the cordycep doing. The everything else

But at the same time it could very well just be advanced cordycep and we can make up whatever rules we want ! But YES, regardless, there is some brain nonsense happening that would ABSOLUTELY have everlasting effects on this ant. Not to mention if the cordyceps DID have control of his muscular system, then his entire body has got to be feeling the effects of it as well.

So he's here, in a death cult, probably having to re-learn how to walk and suffering extreme withdrawal symptoms as well as memory loss.

ANd no nobody ever considers the full ramifications of the death cult because everybody is a coward and won't consider how horrifying cults actually are!!!!!! And to be a disabled old man suddenly thrust into a scary ass scenario where people are being sacrificed and brought back to life around you while you can't even remember how old you are or where you've been the past few years because time was fucked while you were Shroomed, it HAS to be HORRIFYING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But at the same time it really just works out from a cultist perspective. He's already isolated, vulnerable, and probably only halfway lucid at any given point. He'd be extremely easy to manipulate and keep dependent on the cult. After all, they're keeping him safe there, it's dangerous out there. (Not to mention him just feeling some inherent loyalty to the Lamb upon becoming sober, which certainly wouldn't do him any favors)

Like what's he going to do? Leave? Stumble out, suffering withdrawl, into the Lands of the Old Faith?? As an old man??????????

He has no CHOICE but to make peace with where he is. Despite all the questions about if his FAMILY is even STILL ALIVE. Despite having no idea what he DID while under the influence. Despite the HORRORS around every CORNER

It's FUCKED!!!!! It's AWFUL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[dangermousie]

Farscape rewatch - A Clockwork Nebari, 2x18

This is an ep I love a for a variety of reasons, but one of them is that it focuses a lot on the relationship between Crichton and Chiana, and it’s one of my favorite relationships in the show.

(How can a scene be both heartbreaking and hilarious - but oh, Chiana’s relief. She got used to being part of a group; you really see how much it messed her up having to be utterly on her own before and slowly after joining Moya, she shed enough of her emotional protective layer to not want to be like this again.)

It’s made clear once again that for Chiana, John has in some ways replaced Nerri - her beloved older brother (the two men definitely share the desire and ability to fight the establishment and to lead.) But the thing is, a replacement is a replacement but it’s made so clear in this episode how much Chiana loves and misses her brother - her face as she realizes he’s alive or when she listens to his message has such a wealth of emotion.

Nebari are horrifying and creepy any time they show up and this is no exception - the conformity combined with their horrific contagion plan? Yikes. Farscape is very consistent in every powerful civilization we come across being evil, isn’t it? 

I can’t remember btw if I am hallucinating it, but I think I remember the makers saying that if they got that fifth season they were promised, they’d have made Nebari the villains. Not sure if I am misremembering but I think that would have been a fascinating story.

But yes, I love watching Chiana and John, a quasi-sibling relationship with an edge. 

The scene out of all the scenes in this ep that stays with me is the final scene:

What sticks with me in this scene is that John has both the hard-edged outlook acceptance of the unjust world where you should be happy with at least something, you never get what you want as well as the compassion to comfort the grief this bleak world causes. Crichton can say this because like Chiana, he understands loss. Everyone on Moya does - they have all lost their places, their belonging, their worlds (Zhaan is wanted by her regime, Rygel has been overthrown by his, D’Argo has violated all sorts of taboos by his past match, Aeryn is in shoot on sight by peackeepers territory etc) but none of the rest of them except for John and Chiana have families they love and miss - it is clear that John loves his dad (and sisters) and would love so much to see them again. And Chiana loves and longs for Nerri. They are unique in that as the rest of the Moyans do not have any remaining family or have family they’d rather gut. (D’Argo does have his son but he hasn’t seen him since babyhood so he loves him but he does not know him, unlike Chiana and John who know exactly what and who they miss, what they had and do not have any more, if this makes sense.)

The other thing that strikes me is that this episode echoes the themes of both the season and the show in general - I don’t just mean in the rest of the crew getting a small, unknowing preview of what it’s like to be Crichton (the only way he is not cleansed is for the same reason he survives in Won’t Get Fooled Again - his mind is already claimed) - a passenger in your own body, doing things you yourself would never do (though they do not appear to be conscious of what is happening at least), losing both your mind and volition. 

I mean more in keeping with the theme of the show that staying true to yourself is worth any sacrifice, that it is worth fighting any law, any empire, your own mind, anything - to stay what you think you should be. The happiness induced by Nebari is false peace, not any better than John under Harvey’s control. All the mains fight expectations of their societies - be they peacekeeper, luxan, delvian, nebari etc - whether refusing the basic tenets (like Chiana and Aeryn), fighting the power structure (Zhaan), defying elders’ judgment about piloting readiness (Pilot), or even falling in love with someone you’d normally not supposed to be with (D’Argo.) Even Rygel is very undominar-like. Even Moya gives birth to a warship. And we are not going to get into John. None of them fit, none of them conform. And they fight tooth and nail to stay themselves and they all pay various prices, some of them insupportable, but the alternative is unthinkable. 

Crichton is put through a grinder in this ep and is about to be put through a worse grinder in the last four eps of the season and I want to say how much I appreciate that Farscape, which gives its protagonist so much suffering never ever fetishizes it, aesthetically or emotionally (it does not fetishize it for anyone, actually. Chiana looks horrible tortured here; even someone like Scorpius evokes nothing but pity when he’s tortured later in the show.)

By that I mean when Crichton suffers, he does not do so prettily - he looks like hell because he’s being put through hell and there is nothing desirable about it (it’s not elegant aesthetics of suffering like in a Cheng Yi or a Luo Yunxi drama - which I enjoy quite a lot but is a very specific niche that knows exactly what it’s catering to.) Nor is there anything morally superior it; Farscape rejects the Puritan ethos of perfection through pain.

Suffering does not ennoble Crichton, it does not polish him or make him more worthy. All it does is cause pain. He does not need to suffer to be good, he was already good. All this adds to his character is trauma. There is no glory in it, just endurance. I was mentioning to @andoqin that I find it so interesting how Crichton’s biggest superpowers are actually goodness and ability to endure - the former is the reason he gets the wormhole knowledge and the latter is how he can persevere through all the hells thrown at him - and both goodness and endurance are traditionally female coded virtues. (Side note - how very on brand that the narrative is so much of “road to hell is paved with good intentions” one - ancients were nice to give him a way to go home and he was nice to try to rescue Aeryn, and look what happened - hell happened. If it wasn’t for his knowledge of wormholes, once he escaped from the base, Scorpius would have never paid much attention to him but as is. And of course the final bitter twist ends up being that when he does go home he finds out he does not fit and leaves. Ultimately, since he ended up not wanting to go home, he did not actually need the wormholes; all that knowledge brought him is not fulfillment of his desires but pain.)

But yes, it’s pretty clear that if he stayed on earth and never went through the wormhole he might have been better off - he may have never found out how smart he can be or how strong his will is or how much he can love but he’d have also kept his sanity and his soul uncracked. In any other story, a man who started as an idealistic pacifist would have converted the rest of the Universe to that point of view but not here, here he gets it tortured out of him. (Side note - I love that damage sticks in Farscape. The narrative makes no bones about him being permanently changed and no magic undo button exists for his damage. But it’s a very Meatbun take - where being damaged and changed does not mean you cannot be happy; it’s just that happiness will coexist with scars.)

Oh and also, I do like that Crichton does not look fragile - he looks like an all American guy, built like a football player. And guess what? This does not protect him from being taken apart in every way possible because there is no magic cheat code to avoiding suffering, there is no “type” that is more prone to cruel things happening. His looks or his brains or his goodness can’t protect him. Stuff just happens because it’s outside his control and he can only control how he reacts. I love that Farscape makes no bones he’s permanently damaged - once again very Meatbun (am I the sole person on tumblr who both watches Farscape and reads Meatbun? Hmmm) in that it doesn’t mean he still can’t be happy but the damage doesn’t go away.

PS As dark as this show gets, and it gets very dark, it is also utterly hilarious. This one has many funny moments but this one literally made me choke. 

There are plenty of shows that are very dark and plenty of shows that are very funny. Farscape is close to unique in consistently being both.

[baixueagain]

The Gendo & Rei Question, Part III

For the Intro and Part I, go here.

For Part II, go here.

Part III: The Gaze of the Prodigal Son

              Both Rei I and Rei III are “alive” for only a short period, and it is Rei II—the clone active from roughly 2014 through most of 2015—that we as the audience get to know the best. This is also the clone that has the most developed and complex relationship with Gendo, and we learn most of what we know about how Gendo views Rei as a whole from his behaviour with Rei II.

              Rei II and Gendo’s relationship during 2014-15—especially how they feel about it for themselves—is nevertheless one of the more difficult relationships to understand, since they’re two of the most mysterious characters in Evangelion. We rarely get glimpses into Rei’s point of view, and Gendo only truly speaks about his own emotional and psychological state in the final moments of his life during EoE. Even then, he only speaks of his feelings about Yui and Shinji, not Rei. In fact, he virtually never speaks to others about Rei unless he is talking about her involvement with piloting or the HIP. We only get a few glimpses of their direct interactions, and while these are highly charged with multiple layers of innuendo, those same layers of innuendo make the situation all the more opaque.

              One of the best perspectives we have on Gendo and Rei’s relationship, I argue, comes from Shinji. Granted, he’s the main character and most of the story of Evangelion is told from his point of view, but his perception of Gendo and Rei is just as valuable for another reason: he’s an outsider. NERV is by its very nature a place of secrecy and high strangeness, and it stands to reason that most of the people working there have long since become desensitized to their Commander’s odd personality quirks and the strange, solemn girl serving as his first pilot. Even Misato, who has only just recently started working in Tokyo-3 proper, has been in NERV/Gehirn’s general orbit since her childhood and thus seems fairly used to Gendo Ikari’s personality and the odd way things are done under his supervision. But now we have Shinji in the picture, who’s had minimal contact with his father and who has spent most of his life in the “normal” world, sequestered from the truth of the family business. His perspective is that of the everyman, and he is thus primed to see the unusual parts of NERV that other characters take for granted. Moreover, unlike virtually everyone else at NERV (except for Ritsuko, whose perspective I will be addressing in the future), he is uniquely invested in both Gendo and Rei as people: Gendo being his estranged father, and Rei being his co-pilot and thus someone with whom he feels a sense of camaraderie (even if he barely knows her).

              Shinji arrives at NERV shortly after Rei has a serious accident—one that he does not yet know about. His first-ever interaction with Rei happens in tandem with his first interaction with Gendo in years, and this consists of Gendo dangling a wounded, crying girl over Shinji’s head to manipulate him into piloting Unit-01. It is a brutal, cruel tactic, and Shinji seems to recognize this for exactly what it is. He has already accused Gendo of just using him (something to which Gendo openly admits); from his perspective, it at first seems that his father cares just as little for the poor young woman on the gurney who can barely stand, much less pilot.

              This viewpoint is only challenged when, unknown to Gendo, Shinji spots the burn scars covering his father’s palms in Episode 5. His reaction to being told the truth—that Gendo freed the wounded Rei from her overheated entry plug bare-handed (a scene I will discuss in later essays)—clearly stuns him after seeing the cold, calculating way Gendo used her condition to manipulate him earlier. “Father did that?” he blurts out. The concept clearly seems unbelievable to him, defying everything he thinks he knows of Gendo being a heartless, cold, selfish man.

              Interestingly enough, as Ritsuko describes Gendo’s heroic deed to Shinji, the “camera” momentarily moves outside the limits of Shinji’s perspective and shows us what Gendo is doing at that very moment. He is bare-handed (a rarity for him during the A-plot) and for once he has an open, receptive expression on his face as he examines the Angel’s core in obvious wonder and fascination. His lips almost form an excited little smile and the harsh lines of his face are softened. His naked hands touch the core gently, practically caressing it with just his bare fingertips. Considering Evangelion’s repeated use of hand- and touch-related symbolism, it is likely meant to reflect something of his inner emotional world. This is the first time during the A-plot (that is, the plot following Shinji’s perspective and experiences) in which we see Gendo with his emotional guard down. And it comes at the exact moment Shinji learns of his father’s act of self-sacrificial vulnerability for Rei’s sake.

              The idea that his father might allow himself to be hurt for anyone is utterly alien to Shinji, and this in turn is what prompts him to become more curious about Rei. Notably, the next scene is one of immediate contrast: “The burns on his palms are from then,” says Ritsuko, recalling the searing heat of the plug. The shot instantly cuts to a young girl’s body plunging into water. It’s just a small touch, but yet another masterful moment in the way Evangelion uses visual language and careful word choices to create an unspoken discussion on themes. This, we are being told, is going to be an episode about contrasts and subversions. It will also be an episode about sex.

              The poolside scene is the first in which Rei is first explicitly treated as a sexual being—at least from others’ points of view. Shinji is teased twice about his interest in Rei, the first time by his friends Toji and Kensuke, both of whom clearly see Rei as a beautiful (if unapproachable and intimidating) girl. The two of them (being high school boys) describe her body in explicitly sexualized terms, much to Shinji’s embarrassment. At the same time, we’re treated to shots of Rei sitting quietly in her bathing suit, oblivious to their chatter. She is small and vulnerable, but her bare skin and curvy form has still been made into something with sexual energy and potential.

              Back at NERV HQ after school, Shinji watches Rei without her knowledge, still clearly curious about her. Notably, up until this point he has never seen any emotional expressions from her (unless you count her agony in Episode 1). She has kept her distance entirely, and he realizes that despite working together for at least a couple weeks now, he knows virtually nothing about her. There are no relationships in which he can observe her behaviour with others…except for Gendo.

              As he secretly watches within his cockpit, Shinji watches his father approach Rei. Rei suddenly begins acting her age in her body; instead of moving stiffly, she skips and hops eagerly down onto the walkway and begins chatting with Gendo, a cheerful smile on her face and her eyes bright and alert.

              What’s even more shocking to Shinji, however, is Gendo: unlike the scene with the angel core, here Shinji can actually witness his father’s change in demeanour for himself. The Gendo that Shinji knows is a stern, unfeeling man whose rare expressions are that of irritation or a cruel smugness. But as Gendo chats with Rei, his eyes are soft, and a happy smile is on his face. His cheeks even look a bit flushed. Just as important is the way they’re both speaking to each other: although we can’t hear them, we can see their body language and their interaction. They are standing face-to-face, gazing into each other’s eyes, each speaking in turn. They are practically interacting like equals.

              Is it little wonder that Shinji’s jaw is on the floor?

              As always, Anno’s masterful direction creates an unmistakable atmosphere laid across what might otherwise look like a pleasant scene. Shinji’s hidden vantage point, the oblivious radio chatter from the control room, the low single chord of background music, and the fact that we can’t hear a word that Gendo and Rei are saying: all these things contribute to the sensation that we, along with Shinji, have just witnessed something intensely private. Something that neither we nor Shinji were meant to see.

              The scene immediately following this is, once again, Shinji being teased for showing an interest in Rei—this time by two attractive older women. Again the pressure to see Rei as a sexual being is mounted, and the additional overtones of a discussion about sex between a teenager and adults is added. This rapid switch back and forth between Shinji learning about the relationship between Gendo and Rei and being repeatedly asked if he’s interested in Rei himself (all the above scenes take place over the course of about ten minutes) creates an uncomfortable dissonance that charges the episode with a confusing, unnerving sexual tension. At the same time, Rei and Gendo are explicitly brought up and compared to one another: both are terribly awkward, we are told, at life in general. 

              And that’s when the climactic scene of the episode drops on us like a N2, bringing all these interweaving themes to an awkward, disgusting, hilarious, and horrifying head. Shinji goes to Rei’s apartment to drop off her new NERV ID card. Nobody answers the door, which he finds unlocked, so he enters. The room is filthy and spartan; the girl who lives here clearly does not care much about her surroundings or her possessions.

              But Shinji is drawn to the room’s one treasure: a pair of broken glasses carefully set on top of Rei’s dresser. We as the audience are let in on a higher degree of discomfort by knowing something Shinji does not: those once belonged to Gendo, who dropped them when he recklessly pried open the plug door to rescue Rei. Gendo is thus made extremely present in the scene to the audience, even if Shinji cannot sense him.

              I should note here the significance of Gendo’s glasses as a part of his personality. I have noted before that they are an additional layer that he puts on himself as a means of separating himself from others. Though he used to wear clear lenses, after those break he switches to tinted ones, making his expressions even harder to read and representing the increasingly rapid withdrawal of his personal investment and motivations from the rest of NERV and SEELE. His glasses frequently reflect the light, making it difficult to see his eyes even when he’s wearing the clear lenses. The direction of his gaze is thus frequently hidden, and with it his thoughts, feelings, and motives.

              And yet the glasses reflect other things on occasion, too, informing the audience of what Gendo is looking at and what he’s concentrating on. Shots of his face thus have a doubling effect of simultaneously hiding and revealing his gaze: we can see glimpses of what he is gazing at, but only by looking directly at his face and into the glasses which reflect his vantage point. His perspective is simultaneously revealed and hidden.

              So as Shinji approaches the broken glasses on Rei’s dresser, his face is reflected in them—something we rarely (perhaps never?) see happen when Gendo is actually wearing them. His gaze on his son is thus simultaneously present and absent, accentuating the deep dichotomies of their relationship.

              That’s when Shinji does something that feels even more shocking (almost taboo) from the viewpoint of the audience, based on our prior knowledge: he puts them on. It is an incredibly childish gesture, reminding us once again that he’s nothing more than a curious fourteen-year-old boy, but at the same moment he—in the audience’s eyes—becomes his father (emphasized by their similar physical appearance).

              And what is the first thing he sees through his father’s eyes after he turns around and looks behind himself?

              It’s Rei, fully naked, staring back at him.

              Yet at the same time, his view of Rei is blurred and cracked, reminding us definitively that these are not his glasses.

              This, the shot suggests, is not his sight to see. This sight of Rei’s nakedness “belongs” to someone else. Already we are being told exactly what Gendo has seen, how much of it, and that he owns this sight—or at least thinks he does.

              The events that follow are on their surface hilarious due to the awkward nature of the situation, but the staging and shots used (for lack of a better word) are a recollection of the scene down in the cage: Shinji has entered in on something that he should not be witnessing, something that is not for him. Rei strides forward to seize the glasses from him, Shinji slips and topples onto her, his tote catches on her dresser drawer and sends bras and panties flying everywhere. He lands on top of her, covered  in her private items, in a slapstick missionary position with a hand on her breast—and in showing us this, the introductory focus in the pan is of her own hand clutching the glasses. Gendo’s presence is again invoked, even in this deeply awkward, intimate, and violating moment. He is the third, invisible character in this deeply sexually charged scene.

              At the same time, this is the moment where we as an audience begin to see what makes Rei tick. She seems to have no reaction to Shinji seeing her nakedness (leading us, of course, to wonder why), but it is the first moment in which she has a direct emotional reaction to Shinji: anger. But instead of hiding herself, she walks towards him and seizes the glasses away. Shinji walking in on her bathing was not a violation in her eyes, but his wearing his father’s glasses is. Once again, we are given the uncanny message that Rei’s body is treated as a commodity—including by Rei herself. This time, however, we are given an alternative source of her identity. She does not derive her sense of self from her embodiedness, but from something more intangible, represented by the one item in her life treated with reverence: the glasses. She is given her sense of identity through Gendo’s gaze, and it is Shinji’s appropriation of this gaze that she finds violating. Even as Shinji lands on top of her, a hand on her chest, her anger is gone because the issue is resolved: she has the glasses back in her possession and Shinji is no longer invading that space (even as he inadvertently invades other spaces).

              Shinji’s next violation provokes an even stronger response. Despite the horrifically awkward event, it has at least broken the ice, and as they travel together to NERV HQ he begins trying to make conversation about their commonality: Eva piloting. This then invokes the silent third party in this entire exchange: Gendo. Rei asks if Shinji has faith in his father’s work, and when he furiously denies it, she turns, looks him square in the eyes, and slaps him hard across the face.

              And this, of course, seems odd (even humorous) until one realizes why she perceives this as such an insult: she is his father’s work. An insult to her person is of no consequence in her eyes, but an insult to Gendo is an insult to something far more intrinsic to her identity and her emotional world. Between these two scenes, we have seen just how wrapped up Rei’s sense of identity is in Gendo, and in further essays I will argue that the reverse is true as well. Gendo cannot conceive of Rei as existing outside of himself, her identity is so deeply wrapped up in his own. If he ever did conceive of her as a separate being, he will have lost this ability by time Instrumentality arrives.

              Yet at the same time, between all these questions of identity and sexual violation, we see toward the end of the episode that there is a layer that is far more simple and human: Rei takes Gendo’s glasses with her into the entry plug when it’s time for her resynchronization, and she hangs them where she can look at them when she feels afraid.

              Because she is, in the end, also a fourteen-year-old who wants someone to make her feel safe.

To be continued in Part IV: Green-Eyed Monsters

Like my meta? Buy me a coffee!

[bluesylveon2]

The Little Mermaid

Summary:  Hange Zoe, princess of Eldia, is even more curious about the outside world after meeting Levi Ackerman.

Disclaimer: The Little Mermaid is an American animated musical fantasy film produced by Walt Disney Feature Animation and Walt Disney Pictures.  Attack on Titan is a manga/anime series written by Hajime Isayama and published by Kondasha.

A/N: Sorry for the wait! This is pt 1 of the double update! I hope y'all enjoy!!!!

Special thanks to @snudootchaikovsky for beta reading!

Link to Masterlist: Here

Chapter 1

"H-Hange, this does not look like a good idea. In fact, this is a horrible idea." a merman, with brown hair and a light green tail, stuttered as he eyed the sunken ship in fear. His friend, a mermaid with dark brown hair and a purple tail, laughed instead.

"C'mon, Moblit. Don't be such a guppy! There could be some treasure here, and Eren can tell us about it."

The merman, Moblit, continued to eye the ship and his friend as they swam closer to it. "What if there was a shark? We could run into one, Hange!" Moblit argued.

The mermaid, Hange, laughed it off with a wave of her hand. "Everything will be fine. I did not see any on the way here."

The mermaids stopped at the entrance of the old and rotten ship. The ship itself looked like it was there for many years, and seemed to be on the verge of breaking. Hange stared at it with stars in her eyes. On the other hand, Moblit did not share the same sentiment. He was afraid of running into a human skeleton during this adventure. The two were so focused on the ship to even notice the great white shark staring at them behind some wreckage.

Hange swam inside the ship with Moblit trembling behind. Her eyes caught sight of an open doorway at the other side of the deck. Her eyes widened, and she pointed at the entrance.

"Moblit, let's explore there first!" she said excitedly, and Moblit looked at her like she was insane.

"Are you crazy? What if there are human remains in there?"

Hange rolled her eyes. "And I will protect you if they decide to attack you. We can just investigate this one room, and then we can go. Ok?"

Moblit eyed the ship with uncertainty before nodding his head in agreement. "Fine. That room, and that's it."

"Great!" Hange exclaimed and grabbed Moblit's arm to drag him towards the room. She swam in and eyes the room with fascination. It was filled with old trinkets and knick-knacks that Hange already owned from past adventures. Sure, she could get more, but she wanted something unique. Something she never had in her collection.

Her eyes caught on a silver item that reminded her of her brother's trident but smaller.

"Moblit, look at this!" Hange exclaimed and swam over to pick up the said item to show her friend.

"I can see that Hange, and it looks interesting. Can we go now?"

"Of course, but let me find just one more thing. I know there's something here just waiting to be explored." Hange's eyes glistened, and she swam off to explore some more.

Moblit nodded and watched Hange move around the room. The only light was from the sun above the water.

Suddenly, the light disappeared for one second, and Moblit felt a shiver down his spine.

"Hange!" He whispered, causing Hange to stop looking at the saxophone-looking item to turn to Moblit.

"What is it?" She said aloud, utterly oblivious to what was going on.

"I don't think we're alone!" Moblit whispered again, and Hange chuckled.

"Moblit, everything is-" her eyes noticed the shadow lurking behind Moblit's head, and she gulped in fear.

"Fine." She squeaked. "You know Moblit, you're right. Let's leave right now." She tried to reassure him, so Moblit wouldn't turn around.

This time, Moblit is the one looking confused.

"What's wrong-" he asked and turned around to see a shark hungrily staring at him and Hange. Moblit became horrified as he stared at the shark’s sharp teeth. "RUN!" Moblit screamed and swam forward to grab Hange.

The two began swimming away with the shark giving chase. They were almost out of the ship when Hange's bag got caught in some debris. Hange started swimming back.

"What are you doing?!" Moblit yelled while he watched Hange swim away.

"I need to get my stuff!" Hange called back and swam for the bag. Meanwhile, the shark began to close in on her. She reached her arm out just as the shark opened its jaws to bite on its target.

Moblit watched in fear as Hange swiped the bag out before the shark could bite her arm off. She quickly grabbed Moblit's hand and swam with all her might away. The shark continued to follow them but from a far distance.

"We need to lose the shark!" Mobile yelled, and Hange assessed her surroundings. She noticed a ring near the boat that was small enough for the mermaids to fit.

"I got an idea. Follow me!" Hange said and sped up towards her target with Moblit in tow. She eyed the target without much thought on the shark chasing after them. Her heart was beating fast against her chest the closer she got. She only had one chance, or else she was a goner.

Hange closed her eyes and sped up even more. She could feel her body just graze the metal ring but not enough to get stuck. Moblit followed behind while the shark opened its jaws again, only to get stuck in the ring.

Hange huffed and puffed from exhaustion and turned to the shark. She let out a loud whoop.

"We did it, Moblit! In your face, shark!" she cheered. The shark glared at her with angry eyes, and Moblit sweatdropped.

"You know what-" he began and grabbed Hange's shoulders to lead her away. "We should go visit Eren now."

Hange grinned. "Good idea, Moblit!"

---

Eren, the seagull, sat quietly on his rock and awaited Hange's arrival. He has a specialty for naming and describing Hange's treasures and today is no exception. Now he just has to wait for her to show up with something.

His head perked up at the sound of a splash, and he turned to the source. He grabbed his picture zoom majiger (telescope) and searched for the brunette.

"Hange! Are you there?" He yelled and peeked through the eyepiece. He noticed the mermaid with her friend waving at him. "Oh, there you are! Swim closer!"

Moblit turned to Hange in confusion. Does he not see that they are literally in front of him? Hange chuckled and grabbed Eren's device to set it down on the rock.

"Oh. There you are. That was fast." Eren chuckled and scooted back on his rock. "So what do you have for me this time, Hange?"

"Oh, I have two things for you! I would have gotten more, but I had a run-in with a shark this morning," she said casually. She placed her bag on the rock and grabbed the first item inside.

"A shark!?!"

"Long story. Anyways, look at this! It looks like a mini instrument.'' She held out the item to Eren, and he took it from her for inspection. The item looked like a miniature version of a saxophone except it had a darker color and the material looked very foreign to Hange.

Eren chuckled while eyeing the item. "Oh yeah! It's definitely a bulbous snarfblatt. It's not that hard to use. You just blow on it like so."

He grabbed the item and brought the smallest part close to his beak, took a deep breath, and blew into it. A puff of black smoke comes out of the other end, causing everyone to cough.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Moblit asked after recovering from his coughing fit.

Eren smiled and nodded. "It does! Humans are bizarre. They invented this to avoid-" Suddenly, he leaned forward and looked at Hange eye to eye with a serious look. "Staring at each other like this. All-day." He leaned back after a few seconds while maintaining the same smile as earlier. Hange laughed at the bird while Moblit just stared at him like he was crazy.

"Do you have anything else, Hange?"

"Oh, I do!" Hange beamed and dug into her bag again. She pulled the mini trident out for Eren to see, and his eyes brightened in recognition.

"Oh, I know this one! It's a dinglehopper!"

"A dinglehopper?" Hange asked in fascination while Moblit looked at it in confusion.

"Yeah! Humans use this to brush out their mane's." Eren demonstrated by combing out the feathers on his head. "It is very convenient for special events like concerts."

Hange's face changed from cheerful to horror. Oh shit...she messed up…

"The concert! Erwin is going to kill me!" Hange facepalmed and swiped the dinglehopper out of Eren's hand and stuffed it in her bag. She also grabbed the bulbous snarfblatt and placed it inside too.

"Hurry up before he actually kills you," Eren yelled and waved the mermaids off.

"I hope he doesn't," Moblit muttered. Hange grabbed his hand and began to swim off once she had everything.

"Thank you, Eren! I'll see you next time!" She called out and dived in the water. Moblit smiled at the bird and joined Hange as well.

"Anytime!" Eren called out while Hange's tail disappeared out of sight. "Now my work here is done." he smiled proudly and dusted out his wings before flying off to observe the humans.

All three members were unaware of the two eels observing the interaction from the bottom of the sea. Meanwhile, a half-octopus, half-human creature named Zeke watched from the inside of his cave through the eyes of his eels. He grinned wickedly as the princess swam away.

"Run back to your precious palace, princess. You don't want the king to get mad now." The octopus chuckled darkly, already formulating a plan in his head. "That bastard! He is going to pay for everything!" Zeke yelled out in frustration.

You see, Zeke used to live in the palace as well before getting banished by King Erwin for trying to steal the trident.

The octopus turned back to his crystal ball. Meanwhile, a mermaid hiding within the cavern eyed him with both suspicion and annoyance.

"Let me guess, Zeke. You're coming up with a plan to overthrow King Erwin by using the girl? Aren't you?"

Zeke did not turn around to answer but laughed instead. His eyes remained on Hange. "That bastard king celebrates while I am stuck here, Pieck. I think it is time we change that." He eyed the purple-tailed mermaid with interest.

"Starting with her."

©: This is where I insert all rights reserved stuff. This story belongs to me. Do not modify or republish.

A/N:

My schedule will get more hectic soon but I will try my best to get chapter 3 up soon!

Bird Eren haha

[rosiehunterwolf]

For the Romping and the Roaring- Part 3

My submission for Day 3 of @serpentfever's Inhuman Event!

Link to read on ffn.net (Recommended if you are on mobile or haven't read the previous parts yet)

Preview:

Dammit, this was all his fault! He was so pathetic, how had he let this happen?

The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and he glanced up and caught sight of Borg standing outside his cell, staring at him.

“You almost messed up everything, you brat. I’m not going to forget that.”

The pain increased again, and Kai screamed, feeling his eyes roll back in his head as blackness swamped at the edges of his vision.

“Turn it down, I don’t want him passing out.”

The pain dropped suddenly, and Kai gasped in relief, tears streaming down his face. It wasn’t gone completely, though- there was still a faint buzzing emitting from the collar- not enough to be painful, but enough to put him on edge.

Enough to remind him that he wasn’t the one in control here.

(Full chapter under the cut)

Prompts Used: Chase, Dehumanized

Word Count: 9,206 (welp we're back to browser-crashing length again)

Rating: Definitely T, maybe like T+

Trigger Warnings: Dehumanization (obviously), Imprisonment, Torture, Attempted Murder, Drugs, Blood, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts (yeah… this one’s pretty heavy, guys. Probably the darkest thing i've ever written...)

Consciousness came slowly, as if the air around him was thick and sticky. A metallic tang filled his mouth, and his limbs felt weighted and heavy. Everything hurt, and Kai wanted nothing more than to just fall back into the comfort of sleep, but his head was throbbing too much to do so. Breathing slowly, he opened his eyes.

At first, he just saw more darkness, and he wondered if he had even opened his eyes at all. After a few minutes of just staring at the ceiling, though, enough light made its way to his eyes that he could make out the long, steel bars that made up the far wall. Shackles dug into his wrists, the chain only giving him enough room to move his hands up to a foot apart, and another restraint, around his right ankle, was attached to a chain a couple yards long that tied him to where it was bolted to the floor in the corner. His muzzle was gone, although there was a leather band strapped around his throat, almost like some sort of collar. The cell was completely empty except for a toilet in the corner, and a sorry excuse for a mattress against the back wall.

Groaning, he raised his hands and rubbed his face, slowly pulling himself into a sitting position. Immediately, fluid rushed into his throat, and he choked, spitting and sending blood splattering all over the concrete. Running his tongue against the roof of his mouth, he felt the puncture wounds and realized that he must’ve bit down on it sometime when he had been unconscious. Coughing up the rest of the blood, he forced himself to breathe slowly, trying to ignore his stinging tongue.

When he had gotten his bearings a little better, he squinted, peering through the bars. In the cell across from him, Nya laid sprawled out on the floor, her chest rising and falling steadily as she slept. There was a nasty cut across her forehead, blood dripping into her eyes. Kai tasted the air, trying to catch the scent of any other injuries she might’ve had, but the scent of his own blood flooded his nostrils, blocking out anything else.

Against the back wall of the room, between their two cells, was the other occupied cell, where Lloyd was curled up on his mattress, the ashy gray color stained red beneath where his injured leg was stretched out. His chains were similar to the ones Kai and Nya had, although a significant amount shorter, so he could hardly even move around the cell.

Forcing himself to jerk his gaze away, he looked in the other direction. A few more cells stretched down the hallway, but they were all empty.

They were utterly alone.

The only sign of life in the place was the thin crack of light from underneath the door at the end of the hallway. Apart from that, though, the room was pitch black.

Kai leaned back against the wall with a huff. He had really done it now, hadn’t he? Gotten them all thrown in prison- they were likely either going to die or be kept here for the rest of their lives. There was no way that Borg would ever give them any freedom again, now that they knew too much.

There really was no escaping this one, was there?

Augh, if only him and Nya hadn’t had that stupid argument, they would be safe, back with the others right now.

Kai wondered how long they had been here. Had the others noticed their absence yet? Would they try to come after them?

As much as he wanted to be saved, wanted Nya and Lloyd to be safe, he really hoped they didn’t. The last thing he needed right now was the others being thrown in here with them. He hoped they ran far, far, away and never came back.

Kai wished for nothing more than to be back with them now, to feel one of Cole’s strong hugs, or Zane’s comforting presence, or even to hear one of Jay’s horrible jokes.

Kai buried his face in his knees and cried.

He just wanted to go home.

A soft moan sounded from across the room. “...Kai?”

Kai lifted his head briefly, meeting Nya’s tired, scared expression. “What?”

“What happened? Where are we?”

“Borg found us. He’s keeping us prisoner.” He lowered his face back into his knees, not even having the strength to hold his neck up anymore.

“Have you seen him yet? Borg?”

“No.”

“Have you spoken to anyone yet? Has anyone come down here?”

“No.”

Sensing the frustration in his tone, Nya fell silent. He heard the rattle of chains as she paced around the cell. For a long time, that was the only sound he heard, and after a while, he laid, face up, on his mattress, the sound of the chains the only thing reminding him that he wasn’t alone down here.

It could’ve been minutes or hours later when a noise sounded from the other side of the room. Kai sat up, glaring.

The door on the far end swung open, and light washed into the room. Kai threw his arms over his face, hissing at the brightness of it. After only a moment, though, the light faded, and Kai lowered his arms to see the door had been shut again. Flashlights clicked on, shining down the hall, and Kai squinted, catching sight of two trainers, and a vet, none of whose names Kai could remember.

With them, was Borg.

Nya growled at him, gripping the bars of her cell. “What do you want with us?”

“What I wanted was for you to do as you were told,” Borg told her, shining the light in her eyes, “but you just had to go and mess that up, didn’t you.”

Nya blinked furiously at the harsh light, but didn’t back down. “You wanted us to stand by and do nothing as you killed Lloyd?”

“Certain words are not meant for certain ears, dear. You two shouldn’t have been there that night. You really did make things much, much more complicated than they needed to be.”

“Why did you do it,” Kai snapped. “Why did you ever shelter us in the first place if all you were going to do was kill us?”

“Not you,” Borg corrected. “Only the boy. He messed everything up. The rest of you were supposed to be incredibly useful.”

“Stop dodging the question.”

“Boy, I am not dodging anything.” He turned his flashlight’s beam on Kai, his face suddenly looking a lot more threatening than Kai had ever seen it. “You are the one avoiding the truth here. I didn’t ‘take you in’ from anywhere. I made you. You and your mutant friends are nothing more than a lab experiment.”

Kai fell back from the bars, breathing out heavily. He heard Nya gasp, but he didn’t look at her. He didn’t look at anything, just at the ground.

“The truth stings, doesn’t it? You aren’t anything special, you aren’t unique. You were merely a trial for what is to come.”

“A trial for what?” Nya growled.

“You and your friends have been plenty useful. You have been resources to study, to sample DNA from, a test to see if we could contain you before we started making the others.”

Kai blinked. “Others?”

“Of course. You and your friends obviously didn’t work out- and you’re all too far gone now.”

“I don’t understand,” Kai asked. “Why do you want more… more people like us? You obviously don’t care about us.”

“I care about what you can do. Imagine the potential- a legion of seemingly normal people, such as yourself- who can, in the blink of an eye, transform into an army of great beasts! People who could fly, who could cross great distances in the blink of an eye, those who could hear our enemies coming from a mile away, or who could wield the strength of ten men. I’d be unstoppable!”

Kai and Nya exchanged horrified glances. “You’re building an army? What for?”

“Kai, my dear boy. Borg Industries is powerful, but we cannot do whatever we please. We still have so many regulations, limitations, and surveillance. Biotechnology, such as what we have developed, could change the world. But the world is deeply rooted in tradition, afraid of change. They would shun us, sue us for our groundbreaking discoveries, when we deserved to be praised and cheered for. What we need is more power. And power never comes for free. True power is only won through brute force.”

“You’ll never get anyone to comply with that,” Kai hissed. “We’re not objects, we’re living, breathing beings. You can’t just bend that to your will.”

“Oh, but we will. In time, anything can be controlled. We just need to make a few altercations to our future experiments. Something you and your friends have made incredibly easy by being our test subjects over the last couple decades. Your kind is really quite fascinating, you know.”

Kai bared his teeth and roared at him, but Borg merely laughed. “See, the problem with you is that we made you too human. Too sentient. There needs to be some balance, of course- a wild animal is untamed, it has no master- but a human being has too many weaknesses, too many thoughts of rebellion and betrayal.” Narrowing his eyes at Kai, he added, “Something we found out the hard way.

“We got closer with the child- his instincts appeared to be less humane, and he didn’t cause so much of a fuss.” He paused, frowning. “That is, until a few weeks ago.

“I think where we went wrong with him was the species. An oni and a dragon- two of the most powerful creatures known to man- we thought he would have unspeakable power. And he did- but it was too much, too much to be contained.

“But he has been a valuable resource- we shall use what we have learned with him to create a somewhat less powerful species. This time, we will get it right.”

Nya hissed at him, and he scowled, leaning over and spitting on her.

“The child has been very useful, indeed, but he has served his purpose, now. We no longer have a use for him.” Gesturing to the vet with one hand, she stepped forward, the carefully wrapped parcel in her hands now visible as she, Borg, and the trainers walked towards Lloyd’s cage.

“No!” Kai roared, jolting to his feet and racing to the bars. “Get away from him!”

“It’s for your own good. This child could off you in your sleep, if he so wished.”

Time was moving in slow motion. The door of Lloyd’s cage swung open with an eerie creak, and they filed inside. The vet unwrapped the parcel, revealing a syringe filled with a blue liquid, and a long, pointed needle on the end.

“Don’t you fuckin’ touch him!” Kai screamed, shaking at the bars of the cell. “You’re a deranged, psychotic, murdering bi-”

“Please, Dr. Borg, reconsider,” Nya whined, cutting off Kai’s violent string of curses. “We’ll be good, we’ll do what you want, just don’t kill him, please-”

“Shut up, the both of you,” Borg snapped. “We’re trying to work here. Nya, stop your sniveling, we know you’re not on our side. You’re no use to us anymore- Kai, stop trying to break through the bars, don’t you think we thought of that? Why do you think these cells are here in the first place? I had them made a while ago, as a precaution. They’re specifically tailored to counteract your special abilities. Nothing you do is going to break them.”

“I’ll kill you, I’ll find a way out of here and I’ll murder you-”

Borg sighed. “He’s losing it.” Turning to a trainer, he asked, “Turn it on, will you?”

The trainer pulled a small remote from his pocket, and turned a little dial.

Sharp, stinging pain shot through Kai’s neck, and he yelped, falling back from the bars and gripping at his neck- which was when he remembered the leather band there.

“I’m not-” he reached out, gasping as he wrapped a hand around one of the bars. “You’re not making me-”

The pain increased, and Kai doubled over, wheezing, his eyes watering. “Ahhh!”

“Kai!” Nya yelped. “Stop it, what are you doing to him?”

“Handy little device your trainers whipped up for you. Human shock collar. You like it? Except these things can deliver a lot more voltage than the kind people put on their dogs.”

“Stop it, please-” he moaned. Pins and needles were stabbing into his neck, the zinging reverberating down his spine.

“Do it, while he’s distracted.”

Kai pushed back against the pain, rolling his eyes up so that he could see Lloyd. The boy was still sleeping soundly on the mattress, although one ear was twitching slightly. Or maybe that was just the collar, vibrating him.

“Lloyd!” He screamed, the collar making his voice tremble. “Wake up, wake up, they’re going to-”

The pain increased tenfold, and Kai choked, falling to his knees. He gritted his teeth, and they chattered from the vibrations. He wasn’t giving up, he couldn’t-

“Lloyd!”

The roar ripped through the room, echoing off the walls and causing everyone in the room to flinch. Lloyd jerked awake, squealing as he caught sight of Borg and the needle. Leaping off of the mattress, he darted across the cell in a flash-

He stumbled with a squeak of pain as he tripped over his injured leg, tumbling to the floor. The trainers and Borg surrounded him, boxing him in as the vet approached slowly with the needle.

“Lloyd, fight! Fight back!”

Lloyd hissed in the vet’s face, fire shooting from his throat. The vet cried out, stumbling back. One of the trainers grabbed at him, and Lloyd whipped around, chomping down on her hand.

“He bit me,” she shrieked, pulling back. “The brat bit me, I’m probably going to get like, rabies or something!”

“You’ll be fine,” Borg snapped, “just stop him!”

Lloyd hissed in his face, jumping from the man’s hand as he reached for him-

Just as the vet stabbed the needle into his thigh.

Kai, Nya, and Lloyd screamed.

The pain from the shock collar barely registered anymore, the burning in his chest so much stronger. Kai gripped the bars of the cell, rage and fear and despair wracking his body so he didn’t even know how to function.

Borg had done it, he had killed him, he was gone-

Kai’s stomach heaved, and he turned away, throwing up across the concrete. How could this be happening, what had he done to deserve this, what had Lloyd done?

He hugged his knees to his chest, sobs shuddering through him, teeth rattling. He hadn’t even been able to save one person, he had failed everyone, Zane and Cole and Jay were going to hate him when they found out their baby brother was dead and Kai had done nothing to stop it-

Not that it mattered, it wasn’t like he was going to ever see them again.

Dammit, this was all his fault! He was so pathetic, how had he let this happen?

The hairs on the back of his neck tingled, and he glanced up and caught sight of Borg standing outside his cell, staring at him.

“You almost messed up everything, you brat. I’m not going to forget that.”

The pain increased again, and Kai screamed, feeling his eyes roll back in his head as blackness swamped at the edges of his vision.

“Turn it down, I don’t want him passing out.”

The pain dropped suddenly, and Kai gasped in relief, tears streaming down his eyes. It wasn’t gone completely, though- there was still a faint buzzing emitting from the collar- not enough to be painful, but enough to put him on edge.

Enough to remind him that he wasn’t the one in control here.

Not that Kai really cared anymore. Lloyd was dead. Nothing mattered.

Kai wanted to die.

---

Over the next few hours- days? minutes? he didn’t know, and frankly, he didn’t care- weariness dragged at Kai, but sleep wouldn’t come. No, sleep would be too easy, too peaceful. Instead, he laid awake, staring at the ceiling as darkness sapped at his limbs. He didn’t move to the mattress, just stayed on the floor. Maybe the coolness of the concrete could alleviate some of the raging heat storming inside of him.

Every once in a while, he mustered the strength to crawl over the toilet so he could throw up. He didn’t know why he bothered. Being hygienic didn’t matter to him anymore. Nothing mattered.

After the third time, though, he had thrown up everything his stomach had to give, and when his insides kept churning, he just rested his head on the side of the toilet and dry heaved.

“Kai,” Nya whispered after a minute of this. “Stop, you’re just going to make yourself sick again.”

“I don’t care,” he rasped, his throat dry and raw.

“Damn that, I don’t want to lose you too.”

“We’re all going to die down here eventually.”

She fell silent at that. She knew he was right.

“You’re scaring Lloyd, Kai. Don’t let him see you like this.”

“Are you delusional, Nya? Lloyd’s gone.”

“Not yet,” she whimpered. “It… it hasn’t kicked in yet. I guess it must take a while until… anyway, see for yourself.”

“I don’t want to. I’m scared.”

“He’s here, I promise you.”

“What if it’s too painful? I don’t want to see him if I’m just going to lose him in a few minutes.”

“What if you miss out on your only chance to see him one more time?”

Kai was quiet for a moment. Mustering all the strength he had left, he slowly turned over.

Lloyd was sitting at the edge of his cell, staring at him. He was smiling softly at Kai, but his eyes were fearful. Kai tried to ignore how his ears were drooping, how his tail hung limp, and his eyelids heavy with sleep, one he would never wake up from-

Kai broke into tears, and Lloyd churred softly, leaning against the bars as he reached his fingers through. Kai did the same, although there was still a gaping distance between them.

“I’m scared,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” Kai choked through the tears. “I’m sorry this happened to you. You don’t deserve any of it.”

“‘s not your fault,”

“It’s not yours, either,” Nya told him. “None of this happened because of you. I want you to remember that, okay? Don’t… don’t think about that, now.”

Nya buried her face in her hands, whimpering. Lloyd leaned his face on the bars. “I love you guys.”

“We love you too, bud,” Kai whispered. “More than you will ever know.”

---

Sleep found him eventually- that, or lack of fluids caused him to pass out. Either way, some time had passed by the time he drug his eyelids open again.

Squinting, he realized there were people standing in front of Lloyd’s cell. Sounds filtered in slowly, taking a moment to come through clearly.

“-don’t understand, why hasn’t it kicked in yet? He should’ve stopped breathing long ago.”

“I’m not sure. This should have worked. It might have something to do with his lineage, I suppose- perhaps his genes grant him extra immunity to fight back against it.”

“That seems logical. He definitely seems very drowsy and sluggish, so it obviously had some effect on him-”

“But not the one we wanted,” a third voice snapped. As consciousness came fully, he connected the voice to Borg. “Apparently he’s immune to euthenasia drugs, now? What next? This is only more proof of what I’ve been saying- he’s becoming more dangerous. We should’ve killed him right away, that first night, when we had the chance.”

“It’s alright, sir, we still have time. He’s not going anywhere, down here. We can develop a stronger serum.”

“Do you think it will work?”

“With the right blood samples from him, I can be confident of it.”

“How soon can you have it ready?”

“A few days, a week- it’s hard to tell until I start.”

“Fine. But it better work this time. Or you’re fired.”

“You have my word, sir.”

Footsteps echoed past his cell, then down the hall. The sound of the door swinging shut determined they had left. Kai sat up immediately.

“Nya! Did you hear that?”

“It didn’t work,” she breathed. “He’s going to be okay!”

“For now. How long do you think it’s going to take them to make the new drug?”

“If I know Borg, I wouldn’t bet on long. We have to find a way out of here before we actually do lose him.”

“But how?” He breathed out, falling back against the wall. “We’re trapped here. The securative measures aren’t exactly light. I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

Nya was quiet for a moment. “We’ll figure something out.”

“I sure hope so.”

Nya turned towards Lloyd’s cell, pressing her face against the bars. “How’re you doing, Lloydster?”

Lloyd murmured sleepily at her, and she sighed. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad it didn’t kill him, but I hope it doesn’t make him sick.”

“Yeah. It seems like he’s just tired, but who knows.”

The door swung open again, and the two shied back from the light. Two people shuffled in, both unfamiliar, and Kai eyed them warily.

They were young, probably not much older than Cole. Kai was surprised that Borg was even letting them know that Kai and the other hybrids existed, not to mention letting them in their cell block alone.

The male stretched out his hand as he passed, letting his knuckles clack against the bars eerily.

“What do you want,” Kai snapped.

“Chill out, mutant boy, I’m here to feed you.”

Just at the mention of food, Kai’s stomach rumbled. His mouth watered, and against his will, he found himself leaning towards the man. He hadn’t eaten- or drank- anything since the morning of their capture- which, although he had no idea how much time had passed, felt like forever ago. He had even considered drinking out of the toilet at one point, but had decided he wasn’t that desperate.

Yet.

The man laughed at his expression. “Check it out, Em. They really are like animals.”

Kai clenched his teeth, surging up to the bars. “Listen, you punk, you don’t know-”

He was interrupted as his shock collar went off, screaming with pain as he rolled to his knees, frothing at the mouth. He heard shrieks from Nya and Lloyd too, but he was in too much pain to move. The rusty hinges of his cell door screeched as the man entered, laying two metal bowls by the wall. He felt his arms get tugged back, metal cuffs clicking around them. He wanted to kick and hiss at the man, hurt him while he was still within distance, but the pain from the collar stopped him.

There was a dry, rattling sound as the man filled his bowls, then exited the cell, locking the door firmly. Then, finally, the pain dropped away.

“What was that for,” he rasped, his voice still raw from the sudden shock.

“Couldn’t have you fighting back, could we?”

Kai grimaced. He glanced over at Nya and Lloyd and saw they had been cuffed too. “Why do we need handcuffs to eat? Isn’t that sort of counterintuitive?”

“Borg says you’re feisty. Doesn’t want to take the chance of you using anything that’s not bolted down to your advantage. Or to try and kill yourself. He wants to keep you around for a while yet, in case he needs to do any more testing.”

“You think I could escape- or kill myself- with a bowl?”

“You’d be surprised what people can do when they’re desperate. Now, eat up- unless you want to be handcuffed the rest of the night.”

Kai turned to the bowls, squinting at them. One was filled with a gritty-looking water that didn’t seem much more appealing than the toilet water. The other was filled with small, hard, brown pellets.

“What is this, dog food?” Nya scoffed.

The woman smiled. “That’s exactly what it is, sweetheart. What, you weren’t expecting a five-course meal, were you?”

“You can’t seriously expect us to eat this!”

“Would you rather have no food?” The woman asked sweetly. “I’m sure that could be arranged.”

Nya went quiet, but her nose wrinkled as she stared down at the food.

Kai sighed. As unappetizing as it was, it beat the horrible hunger pangs, or passing out from dehydration. He went to reach for the bowl-

Then he remembered the handcuffs.

“How the hell are we supposed to eat with our hands tied behind our backs?”

The guy smiled wickedly. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, kitty.”

Kai felt his face turn bright red. They wanted them to eat from the bowl like dogs. This was humiliating.

But he was so hungry. He didn’t know when the next opportunity for food would come.

Leaning down, he scooped up a mouthful of the pellets. They were gritty and sour, one of the worst things Kai had ever tasted in his life, but at this point he didn’t care. He could hear the man and woman who had brought the food laughing and jeering behind him, and he tried to ignore it. It was this, or starve.

After he had finished the food, he burped at the awful taste, trying to suppress the urge to throw it all up. But he forced himself to lick the sides of the bowl, getting every bit of food he could scrounge.

The dry, salty taste of the dog food had only worsened his thirst now, and by this point he didn’t care how dirty the water looked, setting upon it with frantic laps of his tongue. He immediately found it to be much harder than eating. Water dribbled down his chin, so by the time the bowl was empty, his front side was soaked and only about half of the liquid had actually been swallowed. The man and woman got a kick out of that, joking that he had wet himself. Kai had never felt worse than this in his life. He would rather take the pain from the shock collar. He had wanted to go hide behind the toilet for the rest of the night, but knew that would only make the teasing worse.

After what seemed like forever, Nya and Lloyd finally finished their meals and the man and woman turned their attention away from Kai. The shock collars were turned on again, and Kai was once again helplessly paralyzed with pain as the man came in and removed his handcuffs, put the more flexible shackles back on, and took away the bowls. When the cell doors were locked, the shock collars were turned off. Kai forced himself to stay still until the man and woman were gone, but as soon as the room’s door was shut, he collapsed into a ball, hugging himself and shivering.

No one spoke for a long time after that, letting him know that he wasn’t the only one deeply disturbed by their experience.

Kai’s sleep was broken and feverish that night, filled with dreams of him, Lloyd, and Nya locked up in a giant kennel. Children kept peering in, poking their fingers at them and barking at them. They dressed him up in bows and made him do tricks, laughing and giving him dog treats when he complied, and zapping him with the shock collar when he didn’t.

He burst awake in a cold sweat, crying with relief when he realized it had just been a dream.

He didn’t fall asleep again after that, even though his whole body felt heavy with exhaustion.

The next time the door opened, he scrambled back from the light, hissing. His head was aching, and the darkness offered the only sort of comfort right now.

But he was ignored, four trainers walking past his and Nya’s cages and towards the one on the end. Instantly, Kai was at the bars, watching them carefully with bared teeth. If they tried to pull something again-

Well, what was he going to do? He was helpless in here.

Glancing over, he saw a pair of yellow-green eyes glowing in the darkness and knew that Nya was watching, too.

The door of Lloyd’s cage slowly creaked open, and a pair of trainers slipped in. Lloyd hissed at them as they approached, and they stopped. Slowly, one of the trainers reached out, and Lloyd snapped at his hand, and he yanked it away, barely escaping unscathed.

The other trainer grabbed an object from his pocket that Kai recognized as the remote to the shock collars, and Kai immediately shied back, trembling as he remembered the pain.

“Behave, mutant,” the trainer with the remote snapped. “Or we will not hesitate to turn this on.”

Lloyd looked at the remote with wide eyes, his ears pressed flat against his head. Kai had been in some of the worst pain of his life the previous night- or whenever it had been, his internal clock had been all thrown off by the dark dungeon- and Lloyd was less than half his size. He didn’t want to think about how hard it must’ve been on his little body.

Reaching down, the other trainer in the cell clipped something onto his collar, then unfurled it. It was a blue, leather leash.

The trainer with the remote pulled a key out of his pocket and crouched down next to Lloyd. He hesitated, giving him a pointed glare. “Remember, no funny business.” Swiftly, he unlocked the chain around his leg.

Lloyd bolted, immediately falling to the floor as the trainer switched on the collar. Lloyd whimpered, writhing, and Kai growled, “Stop!”

A trainer outside of the cage whipped around. “Be quiet, or we won’t hesitate to turn yours on, too.”

“Turn it off,” another one said. “He needs to have strength to walk.”

Lloyd fell still, chest heaving as the collar deactivated. “You’re not going anywhere, pet,” the trainer with the leash scoffed, giving the leash a sharp tug for emphasis. “So don’t even try.”

The trainers filed out of the cage, tugging Lloyd none-to-genly behind them.

“What are you going to do to him?” Kai growled. “Where are you taking him?”

“Your little mutant has proven to be quite stubborn,” one of the trainers scowled. “But our vets are some of the best out there. With only a few blood samples, we’ll have a strong enough drug, don’t you worry.”

“He’s lost too much blood already,” Kai hissed. “You can’t do that.”

“What does it matter to us if he passes out? The creature is of no value to us- in fact, that would only make our job easier.”

Kai roared at her, and a sharp jolt zapped through him. He glared at the trainers. “It’s going to take more than that to quiet me.”

“Careful. If you cause too much trouble, we might zap the little guy, too.”

Kai snapped his jaws shut, his gaze drifting to Lloyd, who was struggling to his feet as the collar tugged tightly at his neck.

“Come on, pet,” the trainer holding Lloyd’s leash demanded. “We don’t have all day.”

Lloyd stumbled after him, but after only a few steps, his bad leg gave out and he tumbled to the floor, crying out.

“Get up!” The trainer yanked on the leash, jolting Lloyd towards him.

“Stop it, he can’t walk on that leg!” Nya cried. “It’s still injured!”

“Then crawl,” the trainer snapped, kicking him forward, and Lloyd jerked onto his hands and knees, shuffling after the trainers slowly.

Kai watched him pass, his ears flattened and his tail tucked between his legs as he was yanked along by the leash, and felt a sick feeling rise in his stomach. This wasn’t right, it was humiliating and a blatant disregard of dignity.

He didn’t understand how he had gone so long in Borg Tower without realizing the signs. How they had always been viewed as lesser, as objects for Borg’s use. No one had ever cared about them. All the toys, the trinkets, the gadgets, the outings- had been nothing but a trick to make them feel like they were worth something.

Nya had been right. As soon as they got out of here, Kai was gonna let Lloyd be whoever he wanted to be, and not make him change for anybody.

If they got out of here.

Kai crawled into the corner of his cage and curled up in a ball, hugging his knees to his chest, trying to ignore the depressing thoughts raging around in his head. He couldn’t afford to listen to them right now, right now he was just trying to focus on not throwing up. He didn’t know how long it would be until they next got food or water.

He was faintly aware of the shivers wracking his body, and wondered if he was coming down with something. He wouldn’t be surprised- he hadn’t consumed anything but dog food and stale water since they had been here, and had been wearing the same crusty clothes the whole time, too. There hadn’t even been a sink provided in the cage, not that it would do much to help him without soap, anyway.

Just another problem to add the list, he supposed.

It was funny how, before they had been captured, he had been so resentful and stressed about their situation, thinking it was one of the worst times of his life.

He would give pretty much anything to have those problems back, now.

---

“It’s been twelve hours since they were supposed to be back,” Jay yelped, pacing back and forth, his footsteps echoing sharply with an unusual agitation. “Even if something had happened, they would’ve come back by now, or at least called us.”

“They could’ve ran out of minutes,” Cole rationalized. “These damn prepaids don’t last very long.”

“But why wouldn’t they come back? Kai and Nya would never worry us like this, not unless they didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“I know.” Cole ran his fingers through his hair. “But maybe they escaped. Maybe they ran and didn’t want to risk leading anyone back here.”

“I hope you’re right. If anything’s happened to them-” his lip quivered, and he looked away as tears pricked his eyes.

“Jay, it’s going to be okay.” Cole reached out, setting a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to find them.”

“You can’t promise that,” Jay barked, flinching away.

“No. But I’m going to do everything in my power to try. They’re our family, Jay. Family doesn’t give up on family.”

“I know,” Jay sniffed, wiping at his eyes. “I’m just scared.”

Cole wrapped his hands around him, letting Jay bury his face in his shoulder. “Me too, bud. Me too.”

Jay and Cole jumped nearly a foot in the air as the door swung open, and Cole let out a breath of relief as he realized it was only Zane.

“Did you find anything?”

Zane shook his head. “No sign of them anywhere. I even asked a few of the shopkeepers- as many as I could without raising suspicion, anyway- by showing them a photo I had. A few of them thought they looked familiar, but no one was able to tell me where they went or if they had seen anything out of the ordinary.”

“We have to do something,” Jay insisted. “If they’re being held hostage somewhere, who knows what they’ll do to them.”

“What can we do?” Cole asked. “I want to do something as much as you do, but we don’t have anywhere to start. We don’t even know where they are.”

“Maybe not,” Zane admitted, “but we can make an educated guess. The most likely reason that Kai and Nya have not gotten back to us is that they were captured. There are two main parties most likely responsible. Borg Industries- and the Ninjago City Police.”

Jay frowned. “How do we know the police are against us?”

“We don’t. But we can’t entirely clear them yet, either. If they found out Kai, Nya, and Lloyd’s secret, they could possibly see them as a threat and lock them up.”

“But if hybrids like us are such a rare thing, the news would be all over this if the police had discovered them,” Cole pointed out. “We’re basically living under a rock in here, but you would’ve seen something, like on TV or somewhere, when you went out, wouldn’t you have?”

“Fair point. So we can most likely conclude that it was Borg that found them.”

Jay put his head in his hands. “Last time we saw Borg, he wanted to kill Lloyd. If we’re going to do something, we better hurry.”

“Where do you think he’s keeping them?” Cole asked. “Borg Tower?” “That feels too simple,” Jay muttered. “He knows that’s the first place we’d look. But at the same time, I have no idea where else they would be.”

“We can’t just storm the building,” Zane argued. “There’s only three of us. Even with our enhanced abilities, it would never be enough to get through Borg’s headquarters. If we even knew where to begin looking for them, that is. Borg Tower isn’t exactly small.”

“What options do we have?” Jay whined. “We can’t afford to waste any time. We have no idea what Borg could be doing to them right now. And, besides, even if we could wait a while, it’s not like we’re magically going to gain more allies or anything.”

“We need to come up with some sort of plan,” Zane insisted, “Otherwise we’re going to end up getting captured too, which won’t help anyone.”

“You’re both right. We can’t go in without a plan, but we can’t afford to wait, either. And no one’s going to have an epiphany just sitting around here thinking. If we’re going to make a plan that’ll work, we need more information.”

“How do you suggest we get it?” Zane frowned.

“We sneak down and scope out Borg Tower. We don’t breach it, just observe what we can from afar.”

Jay glanced at him skeptically. “You really think we’ll be able to find out much like that?”

“Does anyone else have any better ideas?”

No one said anything.

“Then it’s settled. That’s what we’re doing.”

“When do we set out?” Jay asked.

“I would like to leave as soon as possible, but it’s just too risky. If we don’t want to get caught, we should wait until the cover of dusk is on our side. I also don’t think we should risk taking the bus at all, and it’s a few hours walk to Borg Tower. We’ll leave here late afternoon.”

Zane and Jay exchanged glances, nodding. “Do you want us to do anything, Cole?”

“I dunno. Grab something to eat, get some rest if you can. I have no idea how long this is going to take. Pack up the bare essentials, just in case we’re not able to come back.

“Come this afternoon, be ready. We’re going to get our family back.”

---

Cole stared up at the looming skyscraper in front of him, his heart pounding in his chest.

This was it. They were here.

“Keep walking, Cole,” Zane whispered from behind him. “We don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.”

Cole picked up the pace, falling into step behind Jay, and melting into the crowd of passersby around them.

“What do we do now?” Jay whispered back to him.

“Just keep an eye out for-” Cole stopped, his gaze drifting towards the front doors of Borg Tower.

“What is it?”

“Over there,” he hissed, nodding sideways in the direction. Two people, emerging from the doors of Borg Tower, whom Cole didn’t recognize, but noticed the familiar outfits of the caretakers, had slung garbage bags over their shoulders, and were heading towards the back to toss them out.

“It might not be much, but it’s as good a place as any to start,” he whispered. “Let’s go!”

Subtly slipping past the citizens, he darted around the side of Borg Tower, Zane and Jay on his heels.

He froze in place as the muffled voices of the caretakers came into view. They were close. But not close enough. He needed to get closer if he wanted to be able to listen in.

If only Kai were here. Where was the guy with superhearing when you needed him?

If only they were all here. Cole just wanted them to be safe. He didn’t know what he would do if they found them and one or more of them were already gone.

But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Now, he had a job to do.

“Transform,” he whispered to the others. “You’ll be smaller, and easier to hide that way.”

With a flash, the three boys were gone, and a badger, a labrador, and a falcon stood in their place.

Crouching low to the ground, Cole edged around the corner.

The caretakers were hauling the trash bags into a dumpster a little ways down. Jay dropped down onto his belly and wriggled under the dumpster in front of them, Cole and Zane squeezing under after him, with considerable more difficulty.

“-giving us a lot of trouble,” the voices filtered in as they got within earshot. “I can’t wait until this whole thing is over and done with.”

“Have they gotten any closer with the drug yet?” the male voice asked.

“Somewhat, I think.” A second voice, the female. “They’re gathering a lot of blood from the kid, which seems to be helping, but it still could take up to a week.”

“What about the older ones? What’s he going to do with them?”

“Borg wants to keep them alive, for now, to see if they can give him any clues to where the rest of them are. I’m not so sure, though- they’re both very stubborn. I think they’d rather die than give up any information. Especially the lion one- he doesn’t seem like he’s gonna last much longer. We can hardly get him to eat anything.”

Cole clenched his teeth, biting back the shuddering breath. So they had been right. Borg did have their friends.

And, from the sounds of it, they were running out of time to save them.

“Do you have the key?” The female snapped. “We can’t have anyone breaking in here.”

“Here.” There was a jangle of metal as the padlock was locked, and then footsteps came sharply towards them. Cole shrunk back, watching their feet cautiously as they passed.

“Why would they need to lock a dumpster?” Jay whispered.

Zane’s eyes glinted. “The only logical solution is that there’s something in there they don’t want anyone to see. They must be hiding evidence. We need to see what’s in those garbage bags.”

“Zane, wait-” Cole hissed, but the falcon was already slipping out from under the dumpster where they were hiding, and over to the one the caretakers had put the bags in.

Jay let out a whine, and Cole crept forward, so he could peer out at Zane. The falcon was perched on top of the dumpster, sticking a talon into the lock as he jiggled it. The clanking of metal echoed threateningly through the air.

“Zane, stop,” he begged. “We can’t let them catch us, we have to wait until we know for sure they’re-”

“What the- I knew I heard something back here!”

Cole cringed back, and Jay yelped beside him as the man’s feet came into view. Cole quickly shushed him. The man had only seen Zane. Revealing themselves as well would only make it easier for him to connect the dots about who they were.

“Shoo, pest, shoo!” The man cried, running towards Zane but still keeping a respectable distance from the large bird of prey. Zane squawked, and Cole heard a flutter of feathers that he hoped was Zane flying away.

“What’s going on, Jake-” the woman called, her footsteps hurrying over and halting abruptly. “Holy shit! Is that a falcon?”

Cole cringed. It didn’t take a genius to know that falcons weren’t native to Ninjago City.

“It’s him!” she cried. “The falcon. It has to be! Quick, catch him!”

Cole shuffled forward as the two scuffled after Zane, who was shrieking and squawking as he flapped just above their heads.

C’mon, Zane, get them out of here-

The woman jumped up, catching his wing in her grasp, and yanked, sending a handful of tawny feathers flying. Zane screeched in pain, falling to the ground.

Jay yelped behind him, and before Cole could stop himself, he shot out from under the dumpster, and latched his jaws around the woman’s shoe.

She screamed, attempting to shake him off. “The other one’s here too! It’s got me, it’s got me, get it off!” She kicked, hard, and Cole went tumbling off her foot, right in front of the man, who raised his foot to deliver a kick-

The man stumbled backwards as something jerked at his leg. A yellow lab was sinking his teeth into his pant leg, holding him back. Releasing it, he barked loudly, running circles around the man as he tried to land a hit on the small dog. But Jay was too fast.

On his other side, Zane was struggling to his feet, oblivious of the woman running up behind him. Dashing past the falcon, there was a flash, and suddenly Cole was five feet taller, and punching the woman in the face with very human knuckles. She crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

The man cried out as he tripped over Jay, and before he could blink, the dog was gone, and Jay was pinning him to the ground with a foot.

The man’s face dissolved into panic as Cole approached him. “Please, don’t hurt me, I won’t tell them about you, I promise.”

Cole paused, narrowing his eyes at him.

“Don’t do it, Cole,” Zane urged, now no longer a bird, and sitting on the floor. “He’s lying. He’ll run right back to them and we’ll be captured before the day is up.”

“I swear, I won’t!” the man begged. “I needed this job! I was told it was such a great opportunity, I had no idea what I was getting into! I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Rich that you’re having a change of heart now,” Jay snorted. “You didn’t seem too concerned about us a minute ago.”

“Please, let me go, if they find me here and figure out I let you escape, they’ll kill me! I have a family!”

Cole glanced at the others. Jay looked uncertain. Zane looked angry. “I still say he’s bluffing.”

Cole glanced down at the man. The terror in his eyes was real, that was for sure. Relenting, he breathed out, taking a step back. “That may be so, but we’re not like them. Jay, let him go.”

Jay looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Slowly, Jay moved his foot, and the man bolted to his feet. Cole reached out, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt before he could slip away. Pulling him close, Cole gave him the hardest glare he could muster.

“If I let you go, you’re gonna run. Run as far away from here as you possibly can, and never come back. If you rat us out to anyone- anyone, Borg worker or otherwise- I will personally track you down and find you. And I’ve got the best tracker in the whole city on my side, so I won’t fail. Is that clear?”

The man nodded frantically, his eyes wide. His voice came out a squeak. “I swear on my life, I won’t tell a soul.”

“You better not.” And, with barely a beat of hesitation, Cole released him.

The man was gone in the blink of an eye.

“I hope I didn’t just blow it,” he breathed.

“I can’t tell you if that was the right decision or not,” Jay said, “but you were right about one thing. We’re not like them. If he tells anyone, he’s the scum, not you.”

“I know this sounds dumb, but I don’t think he will. I just had… a feeling.”

“Feelings and survival don’t mix,” Zane snapped.

Cole turned to him, where he still sat on the ground. “I’m sorry, buddy, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.”

“I’m not blaming you, I just don’t trust him,” he muttered, pulling his leg closer to his body with a wince.

Debate forgotten, Cole started forward. “Are you okay? Did she hurt you?”

“Just pulled out a few feathers, nothing serious. But I think I landed badly on my ankle.”

Cole crouched down, tracing his fingers along his ankle. Zane flinched back, grimacing.

“Sorry. Does it hurt bad?”

“Yeah. I think it might be sprained.”

“Hey, guys?”

“Not now, Jay. Do you think we could-”

“Guys!” Jay cried. “This isn’t really something that can wait!” Cole glared back at him. “What?”

Jay held up a small, black device. Cole squinted at it, adjusting his glasses. “What’s so important about that?”

“It’s a pager, Cole. It fell out of the caretaker’s pocket. If she used it, there’s probably Borg employees on their way here right now!”

“Shit,” he muttered. “We gotta get out of here.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to say!”

“Cole, I don’t think I can walk,” Zane admitted. “You two should go without me.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Cole fumed. “We’re family, we don’t leave each other behind!”

“I’ll only slow you down.”

Muffled shouts and harried footsteps came from somewhere nearby. Jay whipped towards them, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Hurry, guys, they’re coming!”

“Get on my back,” Cole demanded. “Now.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I’m going to carry you. Now, hurry!”

Jay helped Zane to his feet, and his friend slipped his hands around Cole’s neck, wrapping his legs around his waist. He had only just about gotten into place when Cole took off running, Jay on his heels.

The lab hybrid quickly overtook him, sniffing the air and leading them down a maze of alleys and backroads. He glanced back at them, his gaze nervously darting to something behind him. Cole didn’t even dare look back.

“Hurry, Cole! They’re getting closer!” “I’m running as fast as I can,” he huffed, although he forced himself to put on a burst of speed.

“Cole…”

“I swear, Zane, if you ask me to leave you behind one more time, I will punch you in the face.”

Zane fell quiet after that, but Cole could still feel his reluctance.

“Cole, watch out, they’ve got-” Jay’s warning was cut off with a yelp as a net came hurling through the air towards them, snagging Jay’s leg.

“-net launchers!” he finished.

“Jay!” “Don’t stop, don’t stop, I’ll be out in a second-”

Cole gritted his teeth, and kept running, even as he passed him.

“Jay, hurry!”

“I’m here, I’m here,” Jay called a moment later, already at his side again. “But they’re getting closer! This isn’t working!”

“Stop running!” A voice called from behind them, over a megaphone. “You will not evade capture. You are only making the consequences worse for yourself. Give up now, and you will be shown mercy!” “Sorry, but last time Borg showed us ‘mercy,’ we barely escaped with our lives,” Cole retorted.

“They’re right, though,” Jay murmured. “We’re never going to be able to outrun them! We need a new plan.”

“Well, we don’t have another plan.”

“I might have one. Keep running, stick to the left roads, that’ll take you out of town.”

Cole snatched his wrist before he could dart away. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m gonna distract them. Lead them somewhere else so you guys can get away.”

“Will you two stop trying to sacrifice yourself,” Cole growled, “For five minutes?”

“I’m not sacrificing myself! I know these streets. I’m faster and more cunning than either of you. I can get away, if I’m on my own. I have no intention of getting caught, trust me.”

“It’s too risky. We’re not splitting up.”

“But-”

“Cole’s right, Jay. We already are down three members, and it’s going to be a whole lot harder to save them if there’s only two of us left.”

“I told you, I won’t get caught!”

“You can’t promise that,” Cole argued. “You’re staying with us, end of discussion.”

“Then what other plans you got, badger boy?”

Cole didn’t look at him.

“Over there!” Zane pointed. “Down that alley, about one hundred feet down, there’s a path hidden behind those vines.”

“What?” Jay snapped. “No there isn’t!”

“Are you forgetting who has falcon-vision here?” Zane retaliated.

“Just do it,” Cole hissed. “It’s not like we have a wide range of options, here!”

They darted down the alley Zane had pointed them down, and Cole scanned the wall for anything unusual. “Where is it?”

“Keep going,” Jay pressed, “We need to get through it before they round the corner or they’ll just follow us in!”

“Right there!” Zane pointed.

Following his finger, Cole caught sight of a patch of vines, the brick crumbling away behind it.

“Jackpot, Zane!” Cole cheered.

Jay scrambled through first, holding back the vines as Cole maneuvered through more carefully, trying to account for Zane. As soon as they were through, Jay yelped, “Go, go, go!” Cole’s lungs were killing him by this point, but he didn’t hesitate to race after him. He would be stupid to belive they were safe now. Already, he could hear the angry shouts of the Borg security officers behind them, and knew it wouldn’t be long before they found the broken wall.

But it had given them a moment. And, right now, they needed every moment they could get.

“What are… what are we going to do now?” Cole wheezed.

“We can’t keep this up,” Zane frowned, watching him with concern. “You can’t keep running forever. Not even Jay.”

“We need help,” Jay panted. “We can’t do this on our own.”

“Who’s going to help us?” Cole huffed. “We’re alone. Nobody has our backs in this.”

“I don’t know, maybe we can go ask someone. Those are houses over there, right? Maybe someone will agree to hide us.”

“They’ll probably think we’re escaped criminals, bozo. No one’s gonna agree to hide some random fugitive.”

“Well, what other choice do we have?”

“I… may have an idea,” Zane said quietly.

They looked at him expectantly, but he hesitated. “Well?” Jay yipped. “Are you going to tell us, or not?”

“You’re not going to like it… but there is somewhere we could go.”

Jay threw up his hands. “We don’t have time for this Zane, they’re gonna find us any minute! Just get to the point!”

“We could go… to the police.”

[measlyfurball13]

Pacific Rim: Into the Black fucking sucked.

It’s problem isn’t that it’s different from the first movie. Look, I LOVE the first movie, but I agree that more of the same might have been boring. I respect the writers for pushing the boundaries a little and making an original story with an original tone. . . If by original story you mean “make it Attack on Titan but worse” and if by original tone you mean “cheap shock value and needless edge that adds nothing”.

Full rant under the cut. Swear warning, whatever.

This series has so many interesting and creative ideas but they’re buried under loads of blundering edgelord tropes that have been done before in every other anime ever. Taylor the protagonist is a flavorless “older brother” trope. Mei is the tsundere badass who’s been traumatized by daddy. Boy (yes, that’s his name) is the mystical superpowered child. Oh, and he pulls this whole Attack on Titan thing and turns into a Kaiju.

You wanna know why this is a problem? Because holy fucking shit it’s a problem. Because it’s stupid. Because it’s magic handwavy bullshit. Pacific Rim, for all of it’s big robots and big monsters, grounds itself in reality by having consistent internal rules. Kaiju are monsters with some occasional cool unique abilities, but they’re all based in biology. Stuff like acid, extra limbs, flying. Even the EMP pulse ability from the first movie feels plausible, because electricity is used in a biological body in the form nerves. Another consistent rules is that Kaiju are big monsters. Big. Monsters. Big monsters who stay big, because they’re established as having so much mass and bulk and presence that they can’t get rid of because they’re biological creatures. The first movie establishes that they eat and breed and even defecate and have parasites. These rules make the Kaiju feel plausible. These rules allow us, the audience, to suspend our disbelief and immerse ourselves into the universe.

So why the fucking hell did the writers throw all that out the window, pull some magic bullshit out of their ass, and make a human that turns into a Kaiju? They don’t even show us the transformation sequence on screen. Flash of blue, and now the little human boy is a Kaiju. The problem is not that it’s unrealistic, the problem is that it doesn’t fit in with the Pacific Rim universe. It’s disjointed. It’s stupid. Any questions?

Now, where was I? Oh, right, characters. Haley, the younger sister, is. . . okay. She feels like the extroverted younger sister cheerleader trope, but then they also give her this character facet (it’s not an arc because it’s never really addressed) about murder guilt? And she also mothers a lot Boy? And she also makes really stupid decisions for the sake of the plot sometimes? Out of the main three cast members, she’s by far the most interesting and bearable, at least, but she doesn’t feel consistent at all. She also gets damseled a lot, too, which doesn’t add to her likeability or agency.  

Moving on, one of the two even remotely interesting characters was killed for shock value in episode five in the cheapest, most abrupt way possible, so I can’t talk about him very much, other than the fact that I’m still pissed that the writers thought killing him off was a good idea. Nothing narratively was gained by it; his death doesn’t even affect any character’s trajectory! He had so much more to give alive than he did dead. But that’s all I can say, since he is dead. The only other interesting character was the Jaeger AI who gets maybe all of 13 voicelines in the entire season and is barely, barely even a minor character. Nothing much else to say.

Remember the part where I mentioned that this show actually has wonderful creative ideas? I didn’t just say that for flavor, and that’s the most frustrating part of this all. The problem is just that there’s so many ideas, all at once, so in the end none of them end up shining. Here’s a shortened list of the great ideas- you could base an entire show around each one:

Interrogating someone with drift technology

Altering people’s memories through drift technology

Australia gets claimed by the Kaiju and survivors have to duke it out to survive with the remaining Jaeger technology with no help from the outside world

Training Jaegers and what Jaeger academy looked like

Jaegers having sentient AIs inside of them- and what happens when to the AI when a Jaeger takes damage or even loses a pilot? Is the drift in a Jaeger technically a three-way bond?

What happens when you drift too much, with too many people? Inheriting someone else’s memories or even skillsets?

(this one is probably my least favorite, but still has merit:) A Jaeger and Kaiju fusion. How utterly terrifying would that be?

These are all incredible. I probably would have adored Pacific Rim: Into the Black if (magic Kaiju kid notwithstanding) it had focused on maybe one or two of these ideas in its meager 140-minute runtime. However, Into the Black tries to tackle all of these amazing ideas at once along with about a dozen other shitty ideas that fall flat. As a result, nothing gets the time it deserves. Fascinating ideas are quickly glossed over, never to be mentioned again despite being extremely relevant to the plot, just so the show can truck through the next portion with the same lack of thought.

The season feels disjointed. Nothing builds on anything else, and plot points don’t lead into each other. Characters make stupid decisions, take meandering courses of action and are constantly changing their mind, or, most of the time, just stumbling upon their objectives by pure chance. The only throughline that even remotely delivers with proper buildup and payoff is the aforementioned magic Kaiju boy. The one competent plot arc they develop is the one that breaks the believability of the universe. Great.

Finally, to top it all off, I’m going to speedrun my more minor nitpicks with the general plot/continuity holes. Here goes:

Multiple breaches and breaches on land. If the Kaiju have been able to open breaches on land this whole time, then how in the everlasting fuck has humanity survived at all? I mean, really- why would Kaiju waste time coming from the oceans if they can just pop up wherever they please?

Mr. McRandom nobody protagonist decides on a whim to be the fourth person ever who solo pilots a Jaeger after piloting for maybe 3 days, tops, and then succeeds. The show explicitly references Raleigh and Pentacost as it does this, spitting in the face of their achievements by implying that anybody can do it, no big deal.

This show acknowledges that Pacific Rim: Uprising exists and builds a lot of its background conflict off that, which pisses me off because that movie sucks ass. Here was a chance for a fresh start and they wasted it.

The protagonists fuck up so constantly to the point where they should have lost their Jaeger several times over, yet it always survives, because (go figure!) this is a show about protagonists piloting Jaegers. The protagonists do nothing to solve their problems and do nothing to earn their clever escapes or sudden powerups, leaving everything tensionless and contrived.

The villain has no motivation at all and is so cartoonishly evil it’s a miracle that he has any minions that are willing to follow him instead of ditching him the first chance they get.

The protagonists sometimes just kinda forget their goal and wander around until they miraculously stumble upon something that just so happens to connect to it.

A lot of edgy, horrifying, traumatizing shit happens, and it doesn’t seem to ever affect the characters in any meaningful way outside of maybe 1 or 2 throwaway lines after the fact?

The show takes place in Australia but only gives asshole characters an Australian accent. What?

So that’s it. Bad characters. Universe-breaking concept. Needless, meaningless edge. Contrived plot. Rushed to all hell. Pacific Rim: Into the Black is capital “b” Bad. I love this franchise and I want to support it, but I can’t advocate that anyone give this show their time.

[jeremys-blogs]

The Last Unicorn: Unhappy Fantasy

Everybody loves a happy ending. We all love the idea that, no matter what bad things come about, everything will turn out all right when it's all over. That good will triumph over evil, true love will win out and that everything that could go right will go right. But as you get older, you come to realise that this won't always be the case. Bad things will happen, and they will happen to good people at that. But you don't always need to be an adult to come to realise that, as children too can grasp this concept. Media aimed at them will usually try to go for the more upbeat of tones and stories, but every once in a while you'll get a story that just won't want to sugarcoat things. A story that will look at its young target audience and let them know that we won't always get wat we want. For me, the first film to truly do this, to make me realise that not every ending would be a happy one, was the 1982 Rankin/Bass film, The Last Unicorn, an adaptation of the book by the same name by Peter S. Beagle. This movie was unlike anything else I'd seen up to that point, and as I'll say here, it's also unlike most of what I saw afterwards too.

Our story, which I first encountered via an old VHS lent to me by a family friend way back in the early 90s, stars a nameless unicorn who, after an encounter with some humans, begins to feel that she might be the only one of her kind left in all the world. Worried, she sets out from her forest in search of others like her, and along the way she comes across a number of dangers, including witches and bandits, all while picking up a couple of human allies, Schmendrick the magician and Molly Grue. Together they journey to the castle of King Haggard, the man responsible for taking unicorns from the world through the power of his beast, the red bull. But this endeavour takes its toll on the unicorn, as magic forces her into the form of a human girl before her arrival into the castle, which eventually leads to her falling in love with the King's son, Lir. After much time searching, the group once more face off against the red bull, and after resuming her unicorn form, our heroine fights it off, releasing all other unicorns from their imprisonment in the sea. The evil King is vanquished, unicorns have returned, and the party go their separate ways, with their journey now complete.

Now, to this day, I can't recall another animated film meant for children that has this kind of feel to it as I watch it, and bear in mind that I've known it for the better part of thirty years now. It's a kind of melancholy that just sits there in every moment. This is a fantasy world, yes, but it's also a fantasy world where a lot of the wonder and majesty that you might find has come and gone. A world where all the truly great things have faded. The unicorn we see is truly the last of her kind in the world, to the point where even two random human can recognise it. The fantastical creatures locked up in the cages of the witch? Unreal illusions hoaxed by her to fool gullible carnival-goers. The land King Haggard rules over is barren and dead, a far cry from the lush place it supposedly used to be before his rule. Even characters like Molly are those who feel like their best days are behind them, to the point where she feels initially quite bitter to see the unicorn at this point of her life, rather than as the young maiden she used to be. This whole world just feel worn down, past its prime, which was really quite something for someone as young as I was when I first saw it.

And it's not just the overall world that has this feel to it. Characters both ordinary and fantastic just struggle with feeling happy a lot of the time, or even optimistic. Schemndrick is constantly frustrated over his lack of magical talent, Molly, as I said, has grown up disillusioned with the supposedly romantic life of an outlaw's wife, and as for the Unicorn herself, she undergoes more than a few bad times. The transformation into a human girl utterly horrifies her, and it's something which puts her in a truly unenviable situation during the final act. A choice between her original life and her newfound love for Lir is put before her, and in the end it's not even her that makes the choice. She returns to being a unicorn and, as a result, can no longer be with the Prince she's come to care for. When the movie is on its last moments, she laments what has happened, that she regrets returning back to her original form as she will no longer experience love, which is something unicorns apparently can't feel naturally. She's given a happiness and it's taken away from her, and while she's grateful that her kind are back in the world again, this is a sting that's going to stay with her all the same.

And you know, there's one line in this movie that perfectly sums up exactly why it feels the way that it does. It happens towards the end, and Molly wonders if their journey is going to have a happy ending. Schmendrick responds by saying "there ARE no happy endings, because nothing ever ends". This, I think, is a perfect example of just what kind of mindset this story has. It's not trying to be some classic fairy tale of good triumphing over evil with its heroes riding off into the sunset. Good may score a victory over a terrible person and his beast, and yes a force for good is returned to the world, but it comes at a loss. When Schmendrick says this, you feel as though this really isn't the end, that this is just one moment of the much wider story. Good wins today, but tomorrow there might be something else, something where the other side is victorious. When Lir rides off, he'll likely go and do other things, have other adventures of which this was only one, so too will Molly and Schmendrick. It's fascinating to me that one line, only a few seconds long, can conjure up all these worries about what might happen after the curtain falls on our cast, but there it is.

Now I realise that this must make the movie sound incredibly pessimistic, and yeah, it's hard not to come away with that feeling when you finish watching it. This isn't a "happily ever after" kind of story, despite the fact that the goal of the quest was fulfilled. The dour tone of the story is so prevalent that, even as you see a whole herd of unicorn riding free, there's this feeling that something was lost along the way to making it happen. But, despite the story's clear stance of criticising or undermining certain classic ideas of fairy tales and other fantasy tropes, there's nevertheless a spark of hopefulness in here. Despite the hardships, the unicorn triumphs, restoring her kind to the world, even if it cost her something personal. Schmendrick, having gone through his own difficulties, emerges at the end as a fully-fledged wizard. Molly gets to presumably spend her remaining days with someone who treats her well, in stark contrast to the life she had prior to meeting the unicorn. Success arrives to all our main characters, so the film clearly thinks that good things can happen to good people in spite of the glass-half-empty tone it appeared to have, even if those characters had to be put through the wringer to get there.

The Last Unicorn, it must be said, is not a movie to watch if what you're looking for is an unambiguous good time. The mood is sombre, the designs are not exactly appealing with the obvious exception of the title character, and if you're like me you'll likely find yourself finishing this movie with a big scream at the screen saying something like "WHY CAN'T THE UNIVERSE LET THIS UNICORN BE HAPPY FOR FIVE MINUTES?!?!?!" But let it never be said that the film is ineffective at making you feel exactly what it wants you to feel. It set out to create a bittersweet children's fantasy story, and by God it made one. Maybe it was because I first saw it at a young and impressionable age, but subsequent viewings through my life nevertheless made me feel exactly as I did that first time, that I'd just watched something unique and memorable. It's hard to say whether this film deserves to be on any lists of the greatest animated movies of all time, but there's no denying that it did things kids' movies just don't normally try to do, and certainly not back then. It's a sad movie a lot of the time, but if the likes of Inside Out taught us anything, it's that it's okay to be sad every once in a while 😉

[npdclaraoswald]

While I do agree that I would have loved to see them hold hands, I really don't think that Good Omens qualifies as queerbaiting. There is, most obviously the fact that apparently a large number of people who worked on the show have stated that Aziraphale and Crowley love each other (I don't personally follow any of the behind the scenes stuff, but there's plenty of posts linking to a variety of statements). Of course, there are issues with word of god representation JKR, but it is nice to have so many people involved in the production of the show state that they were played as in love with each other. More than word of god though, the main reason I consider it real representation is Crowley's differing motivations for stopping the apocalypse in the book vs the show.

In the book, at least in my reading of it, Crowley loves humanity. He thinks we're fascinating, and we invent tons of stuff that he loves and stuff that horrifies him. It's the fact that we do both that draws him to humanity: the fact that we have free will- we can do both good and evil and it's our own choices that determine that. That's reflected in Adam most notably, but also in Aziraphale and Crowley. They haven't "gone native" becaus they like cars and books- they've become more like humans in that they make their own choices instead of just being cogs in a celestial machine. He does want to truly break free from that machine, yes, but he also wants to protect the unique, beautiful lives on Earth. When Lucifer is rising in the book, Crowley doesn't magically stop time and give Adam the pep talk he needs to use his powers- he tries to flee. But Aziraphale says "There are humans here," and Crowley looks around at the terrified humans- the children who just saved the world- and he decides to fight for them. It's utterly hopeless, but he's got nothing to lose and so he prepares to face Satan himself in order to serve as one last, if insignificant, barrier towards the destruction of the world. All of this plays into the overall theme of the book- the futility in labeling anything Good or Evil and the importance of choice in how we approach the world. The book is a long way of saying that we shouldn't blindly buy into labels and should make careful, kind choices.

In the show though? Crowley talks a little bit abt dolphins and gorillas and sushi and saving all of that, but it plays as just a way to get Aziraphale on board with his plan- he doesn't seem to actually care about those things or about humanity. He still wants to break free of Hell, but he doesn't seem to care about the Earth or it's inhabitants- save one. Which is evidenced by his plan to retreat to the stars. He doesn't care if the Earth dies- he only cares if Aziraphale does. The Earth only matters to him because it's a place for him and Aziraphale to meet, and they won't have that if their respective sides go to war. And when Aziraphale does die, or at least when Crowley is made to believe he has, he doesn't even go to the stars, because stuff happened and he lost his best friend. He does want to escape Hell, but even when he knows very clearly that they are out for his blood- he doesn't flee to the stars and he doesn't try to stop the apocalypse because he doesn't see a point in having the Earth, or surviving at all without Aziraphale. Which definitely isn't healthy, but honestly can anything Crowley does be described as healthy? It's only after Aziraphale shows up again that he picks himself up out of that bar and goes to save the world. Even down to the final "battle," Crowley doesn't fight to protect the world- he pulls the time stop because Aziraphale said he'd never talk to him again if he didn't think of something. In the show, Crowley's actions are still motivated by wanting to protect what he loves, but it's not humanity or choice or free will or even himself- it's Aziraphale. The show isn't an examination of the human condition as a whole- it's a love story.

[vanimeldes]

your top 10 ASOIAF characters and why?

Mmmok, anon, because I like talking about my favourite characters. I will list the POV ones, but below cut, for safety

1. DAENERYS TARGARYEN - needless to say, the image of G0T/AS0IAF. I fell in love with her innocence and inner resilience and willingness to learn as much as she could since her first chapter. Her arc (so far) is - or was meant to be, whatever - so inspiring, and in a series focused on elements of low fantasy, her character encapsulates almost everything I love in a high fantasy: epicness, mysterious magic, legends, dragons, prophecies, but also her own character, her heroic arc, caused by an utterly selfless goal. I might sound totally generic, but I want her to live happily ever after and be in a position of power, because she understands the grief of lowborn and has a huge potential of learning from her past mistakes and improve their lives. After a life full of loss, abuse, and fears, she managed to become a revolutionary figure and a ruler whose reputation spanns across half a continent, she struggles to find a way between dealing with bad people who really deserve the worst punishments and being compassionate and merciful - because she is compassionate and merciful. My queen, and the reason why this series is popular, sorry not sorry. 

2. TYRION LANNISTER - misogynisic to a fault and horrible in many places, but GRRM called him a good villain and I have always regarded him as such or as morally questionable at best. GRRM has his issues, but he KNOWS how to write complex characters. It`s impossible (at least for me) not to be fascinated by his twisted perspective on the world around him and his traumas and his tiny attempts to be good and nice. His constant conflict between what he stands for, what he wants to represent as a Lannister and what he actually wants is stellar.

3. JAIME LANNISTER - similarly to Tyrion, he actually starts off as more antagonistic, but once you get into his head, it`s impossible (at least for me) not to root for him and understand some of the reasons behind his deeds. He is a tragic character in many ways: he is not honourable enough (although he wants to be) and yet he`s neither Lannister enough (although he wants that too). I still loved him since page one, I loved how Brienne changed him and how he changed him because of her. Whether he dies killing Cersei/embracing Cersei or gets to live with Brienne forever (aaah pls GRRM make it happen), I will be satisfied.

4. CERSEI LANNISTER - bruh, she`s just fascinating. She`s tragic too because she really embodies everything that is fucked up in the Westerosi patriarchal society. She internalized the misogny of the society and, as a consequence, when she wants to keep her power, she lacks the proper imagination to come up with other options than sex and murder. Her thoughts regarding women and womanhood are horrifying, but so is the abuse and trauma she suffered for most of her life. I hate the statement that she is stupid. Yes, she lacks patience. Yes, she is not as political savy as she thinks she is, she is very rash in her decisions, but she is cunning and ambitious. And whether you like her or not, you all must admit she is brave, proud and a real fighter, like that lion of her House`s banners. Lannisters (& Targaryens) are the reason why I can`t hate this series. 

5. DAVOS SEAWORTH - I never expect to fall in love with him, but he is such an unique character. He starts off as illiterate, but tough and strong. Per GRRM, he was created to provide insight into Stannis` storyline, but I just love how he got a personality of his own. His loyalty, his inner intelligence, his sincerity, his resilience make it impossible for him not to root for and pray for him. 

6. EDDARD STARK - lol, he`s Ned. He WASN`T stupid, nor a POOR HONOURABLE FOOL. I think that even if honour was ultimately his doom, he still managed to keep his humanity and goodness. His POV chapters only showed me a really intelligent and observant man, tormented by what he thought it was a betrayal: rather the conflict between keeping his sister`s secret and raising her son and what was seen as a betrayal through his beloved wife`s eyes. He might have failed in some ways because he hadn`t prepared his children for the tough world they were living in BUT he loved his children and wife more than anything, as much as he loved his sister, he never held grudge against all the Targaryens, even though his father and brother died horribly in Aerys` hands. He genuinely wanted to be a good man, despite all the hardships that would have pushed another over the edge. I can`t not appreciate that. 

7. BRAN STARK - the other character that, IMO, encapsulates the classic high fantasy. Of course, GRRM put a twist when he had Bran falling over the window and breaking his legs, as well as because he wrote him as not yet prepared to used his magic skills properly. But his storyline is full of magic and mystery, but told through the eyes of an innocent 7 yr old child, who suffered enough loss and fear and grief for a whole life. Again, it`s impossible not to root for him. I really want him to end up as King in the North, rather than the next tree-man, because he actually has ruling experience and is also kind and receptive. 

8. ARYA STARK - reading Arya`s AGOT chapters felt like reading a book about me when I was of her age. I have to admit, in the later books, some of her chapters are too long, and too boring, but I totally get their point: through her eyes, we see the horrors of war, the poverty, the trauma of a child who suddenly found herself alone in a very dangerous world. And she survives on her own, even though she has to kill those who threat her security and life, but we know that she never enjoys killing people, we know that she kill them out of necessity. She is also smart (when she names Jaquen the third kill), observant, resourceful, tough and brave (I meaaan, serving as Roose Bolton`s cupbearer?). How she survives in the House of Black and White? How quick she is to learn a foreign language? And, most important, how she gives no shits if the people she meets are noble or lowborn and how she befriends everyone? Her relationship with her father and her respect towards feminity, even though she is a gender non-conforming girl? You rock, girl!

9. BRIENNE TARTH - I accused GRRM of misogyny many times, but I reckon that Brienne is a response to the very misogynistic society he created, the society where „there`s no creature as unfortunate as an ugly woman”, by giving her a storyline, a character that is utterly honourable, kind, gentle. While she suffered because she couldn`t fit the gender role she was supposed to fulfill, she never held grudge against the values of feminity - on the contrary, she holds them in great regard! And, why not, as „ugly” and „manlike” she is, she got to make „Westeors` most desirable knight” admire and respect her, which, IMO, is a win!

10. ARIANNE MARTELL - such a pleasant surprise. My smart, hot-tempered, sexually adventurous, but brave and capable Princess. If GRRM kills her, I will erase him from my memory. I just love how she defies all the stereotypes inflicted upon most of the women in these books, I just love her ambition and hot temper, but also her relationship with her cousins and friends. I like that, while she uses sex to get Ser Arys do her bidding, we still see that she is very clever and resourceful. 

Notable mentions of POV characters: ASHA!!!! MELISANDRE!!! and Jon

My favourite non-POV characters:  THE LANN DAD, TYWIN MOTHERFUCKING Lannister; Margaery Tyrell, Brynden Blackfish Tully; Edmure Tully, Val the Wildling; Loras Tyrell; Garlan Tyrell; Olenna Tyrell

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Ch4

Focus

Welcome back, everyone!!! I am so, so sorry this took so dang long. I wanted this chapter to cover so much and yet it feels like nothing happens at all, a tough one to nail down. Anyway! Hope you enjoy!

Word count - 4,415

~~~Previous Chapter~~~

__________________

---Reader---

The rest of your weekend passed uneventfully. Once V was stable, he didn’t have any further issues and you were able to catch up on tedious housework. You kept rehashing his words in your mind, dissecting every possible meaning until you could barely see straight.

After so many years of boredom, it was a delight to have the murderous artist in your care. Staying engaged had always been a struggle for you, even as a child. Most situations and people simply didn’t hold your interest. It wasn’t always easy to hide, but you managed most of the time.

You knew from experience what it cost if you failed.

Don’t think about that. There’s no point.

You sighed and set down your bag, reaching over to power up the CPU on your desk. Time to get to work. It was Monday, so your first patient would be Kelly Williams.

A classic case of bipolar disorder, the poor woman had been stuck in a major depressive episode for three months. She was so predictable you probably could have written up your notes for the session before she even arrived, but you followed protocol and checked your email as you waited for Kevin to deliver her anyway.

You minimized the browser as she shuffled in, eyes downcast and limp hair hiding her frown. You pursed your lips as she settled on the couch with a morose sigh. Kevin gave you a nod and left, clicking the door closed behind him.

“Hello, Kelly. How are you feeling today?” you began.

I’d bet my next paycheck I know her answer.

Her sad grey eyes lifted to meet yours. “Hanging in there.”

Yep. This is going to be a long hour.

You covered all the same topics, reviewing her trauma and possible causes for her illness. Diligent notes filled your notepad, but the words didn’t stick in your mind. It might be worth shifting Kelly to another doctor, considering how little you cared about her treatment. Dr. Malphas wouldn’t be happy, but he’d understand. You only wanted to make sure she was receiving the care she needed, right?

A soft knock interrupted your musings as Kevin returned. You said your goodbyes and promised your patient some menial reward, nothing important but something that would be meaningful to her.

The moment the door closed, you released a deep sigh. Honestly, there were only two or three patients here that interested you. A man with detailed visions of the future that occasionally came true, a woman who spoke a language of her own creation, and your favorite murderous artist. The rest you could deal with in your sleep.

On that note, who’s next?

Jacob Miller. The infamous serial killer who targeted women that resembled his mother. How utterly mundane.

It didn’t surprise you to realize how little the well-known madman interested you. His spree of kills thrilled and horrified the state of Utah for months until he was caught, all from a scrap of fiber he’d missed when disposing of one of his victims.

But his profile was quite basic. A broken home, absentee father and disciplinarian mother. Run of the mill patterns of animal abuse and rejection from potential sexual partners, the same fuel that brought about the likes of numerous big names. There was nothing new or unique about him.

As Kevin brought Jacob in, you tried not to let your eyes glaze over in disinterest.

“Good morning, Jacob.”

“Hello, Dr. Waras. How was your weekend?” the twisted man replied.

You pursed your lips. His manners belied a twisted core. “Nothing special, but we’re here to talk about you.”

His lips twisted into a dark grin. The man was an arrogant prick, always happy to talk about himself. Sometimes you wondered how he managed to avoid death row, but it wasn’t your problem.

“What do you want to know, Doctor?”

About you? Nothing.

“Let’s talk about your childhood a bit more,” you said instead.

---V---

The ceiling truly was a monstrosity. He’d been staring at it for hours, trying to pinpoint exactly what about its beige visage disturbed him so much, and he thought he finally had it figured out.

It was the bumps.

Little dapplings of the plaster, random and unintentional. As if whomever built the room had no idea patients would spend almost all their waking hours staring at their work. A few sections resembled faces or vague outlines of familiar objects, but the majority was an expanse of rough mediocrity.

He wanted to splash blood across it in sweeping arcs of color, break the horrible monotony with crimson streaks of life.

At this point, he’d settle for sidewalk chalk.

Someone’s coming.

The artist tuned to the hallway and sure enough, the familiar scuffle of Kevin’s feet approached. It must be time for his meeting with you and he smirked. What perfect timing.

Remember the plan.

“Yes, I’m perfectly aware,” he replied to the insistent tone rattling in his skull.

He arranged his features in a neutral expression, feigning indifference as the heavy door creaked open. Kevin’s signature shuffle came closer and the strap at his left arm loosened.

“Time for therapy,” the orderly informed him.

He resisted the urge to strangle the bumbling idiot as his arm regained its freedom. “Wonderful.”

Moments later, the artist stood beside Kevin rubbing his wrists and cracking his neck. Someday he would tear the man apart for stealing his autonomy, but not today. Today, he needed to gain an ally.

“So… Kevin. How did you end up here?”

Watery brown eyes blinked at him in confusion. The artist’s fingers twitched.

Don’t do it…

He clenched his hands. Kevin’s day would come and what a delight it would be…

“I… uh… I transferred from the hospital a few years back.”

V hummed and held his hands forward for the damned cuffs. They clicked into place as he replied, “Fascinating. Do you enjoy the work?”

Broad shoulders lifted in a shrug. “It’s all right, I guess. Gets weird now and then.”

He followed Kevin into the hallway, white soles squeaking on the linoleum. Nine doors identical to his own dotted the walls, useful information for later. Clever emerald eyes paid special attention to where the guard’s hand went to buzz them through to the offices.

“You’ll have to tell me some of your more interesting stories sometime,” he replied with a convincing twist of his lips. Child’s play.

Kevin grunted and gestured forward, inviting V to lead the way. “We’ll see.”

The thick door to your office already stood open, welcoming him in like an honored guest. He smirked as you nodded at Kevin and dutifully cooperated as the man latched him to the wall. You looked lovely, as you always did. Pen tucked behind your ear, a hint of excitement in your eyes.

“Thanks, Kevin. See you in an hour,” you said, dismissing the man.

And then there were two…

Stay focused. You’ll need your wits for what’s to come.

You offered him a smile as the door clicked shut. He mirrored it with ease.

“So, V. How are you feeling after last week? I haven’t seen you since your episode.”

He hummed and leaned back, settling his weight onto the couch. It was impossible not to indulge his aching body in the soft cushions after the maddening position he’d been stuck in all day.

“Truthfully, I’m bored. One can only stare at the same patch of ceiling for so long before it grows tedious.”

You tapped your pen against pursed lips. How lovely you’d look in red…

Focus.

“I can definitely understand that. I may be able to help, if you’re interested,” you replied.

There was no hiding the curiosity in his eyes, nor did he bother trying. You were too smart for that. “Do tell.”

“I can give you an assessment, and if it goes well you might be cleared to be left unrestrained. All you have to do is answer a few questions and be honest.”

He smirked. How adorable. “I’m ready when you are.”

You picked up a clipboard and read the first question aloud. “You find a lost young boy one day, and he appears to have stolen property. Would you A, hug and reassure him; B, take the property by force and leave him there as punishment; C, pick his pocket and leave him to his fate; or D, lead him home and call the authorities?”

He almost laughed. The entire basis of the question was absurd; what action he took depended on what the stolen property was. Why bother taking the item if it wasn’t something that appealed to him? Not to mention the lack of a ‘keep walking’ option.

“A,” he said. You made a note and continued.

None of the following questions were any better, all based on faulty logic or lacking the detail needed to truly make a decision. He chose his answers based on what he imagined his mother would do, using her kindness and empathy as a model for normal behavior. With each response, you marked your sheet and nodded approvingly.

“Okay, last question. Your house is on fire. What do you save on your way out? A, your little brother; B, your prized collection of baseball cards; C, whatever clothing you can carry; or D, the family photo album? Assume that anything not chosen is destroyed.”

For heaven’s sakes, only an imbecile would fail this.

“A, of course.”

You made a final mark and your brows furrowed as you tallied his answers. He occupied himself with images of you with a blade to Kevin’s flabby throat, grinning as you slashed it open. Blood would stain every inch of your clothing; never would you look so beautiful.

“Interesting… According to this, you shouldn’t even be here, let alone in high secure,” you began. Suspicion bloomed in your gaze as you met his eyes. “You weren’t being truthful, were you?”

No shit, Sherlock!

He gritted his teeth to keep from shouting at Griffon, searching for the right words. How had he missed this, how could he be so foolish as to expect you to believe a good result?

Take it again. As many times as it takes.

He had to take it another three times before you surrendered with a deep sigh. Not once did his answers change.

“I’ll have to clear it with Dr. Malphas, but I can’t justify stopping you.”

He smirked. Victory was sweet, indeed. Even this tiny increase to his freedom would do wonders for his plans, not to mention he’d no longer need to bother Kevin for a bathroom trip to indulge himself. It didn’t matter that there was a camera in his room, watching his every move. He knew where it was, it would be easy enough to hide his activities from its view.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said. A tiny smile graced your lips at his gratitude. Progress.

“Just doing my job. Now, let’s get back on track. Do you remember anything from last week?”

He brought his legs onto the couch, drawing his knees to his chin as was his preference. “Fragments.”

Ink marked his answer on your notepad and he almost growled in jealousy. His fingers itched to create, to design and defile. It took all his will power to remain seated and keep his hands from reaching for the pen. The sketches last week had left him needy and craving more time to hone his craft, the pull growing stronger with every reminder.

“Would you care to elaborate?” you asked.

He didn’t bother to consider the ramifications as he opened his mouth. The need was too strong. “I’ll tell you about it if you give me a pen and paper.”

You idiot! Now you appear weak, willing to succumb to her will if she only throws you a treat. What are you, a dog?!

He flinched. Vergil had a point; he should have been more careful. Somehow, he needed to shift the scales back in his favor, or at least back to equality. To let this stand would be unacceptable. But how?

The rumble of an opening drawer stole his attention as you withdrew the same hunk of charcoal he used before. A clipboard with several sheets of fresh paper occupied your other hand and his eyes glittered in excitement as you handed them over. He licked his lips and quivered in anticipation, considering his options and refining several ideas.

“May I make a request?”

His gaze shot to yours. A request? So, you wanted to see more of his work. It fed his ego and he nearly purred at the image of you begging him to draw you, dripping in viscous blood after your first kill.

“I cannot stop you,” he said. It wouldn’t do to betray his thoughts, not yet. Caution was a worthy ally.

“Can you draw Griffon, or Vergil? I’m curious what they look like,” you replied.

Don’t you dare!

Speak for yourself, asshat! You do your thing, Van Gogh.

Lips twisting in amusement, he nodded and drew the first line. Griffon was always interesting to draw, though he still hadn’t managed to get his eyes right. Something about the triple-iris was irritatingly difficult to capture. Not to mention how much he hated feathers.

Still. An enjoyable challenge.

“So, tell me about last week.”

Now’s your chance. Do not waste it.

The artist hummed in acknowledgement, eyes locked on his work. He kept his hand elevated so as not to smudge the charcoal unintentionally, his fingers swiping across the pristine page to leave shadowy streaks behind. But how to utilize this opportunity? How best to regain his control of the situation?

Perhaps a quid pro quo?

He smirked and lifted his eyes. You were staring at him. “I seem to be having trouble remembering. Maybe you can jog my memory?”

You pursed your lips and narrowed your eyes. He didn’t bother trying to hide his Cheshire-like glee. He had you, how could you possibly refuse him?

“What, exactly, are you suggesting?”

He leaned back, casually adding another series of marks to his artwork as if your suspicion meant nothing to him, as if he didn’t care if you went along with his ideas. “I’m suggesting, Doctor, that you provide me with incentive to share.”

“Such as…?”

“For now? Blue.”

You stared at him as if he were an alien. “You want… blue?”

“I cannot do Griffon justice without the proper color,” he replied with a teasing smirk.

An easy trade, a small token to get you used to the idea. What harm could there be in allowing him more colors to use in your own office? It was a simple request, one not worth refusing and as you reached for your drawer, he congratulated himself for his cleverness.

“I don’t think I have any blue pens or anything, let’s see…”

“I’ll make do with whatever you have available,” he replied as you rummaged.

The drawer looked moderately chaotic, as if you put some effort into keeping it organized but you didn’t care enough to maintain it. Post its and paperclips were strewn about, pens and highlighters shoved in the corner. A thumb drive resided amongst a collection of pins.

A single flash of sapphire drew his gaze. Your delicious fingertips hesitated at the item, but you pulled it out a moment later as nothing else offered itself up. He almost laughed as you held it out to him.

This will be interesting to work with.

A makeup compact, full of blue powder. The color was dark and rich, serendipitously close to the exact shade of the demonic bird.

“This is all I’ve got,” you murmured.

The artist schooled his features into a look of disappointment, playing down his excitement as he accepted the small container. “It will suffice.”

He tested the substance on a fresh sheet of paper, swiping it across with the tip of his thumb. Discerning emerald eyes judged the depth of the hue, analyzing how much he’d need to achieve the proper coloration. If he layered it with the charcoal, it might just work.

You cleared your throat as he began, pen held at the ready for him to speak. That’s right, he was expected to describe last week in exchange. He’d nearly forgotten. Visions ricocheted in his mind, echoes of the night that became his ruin. He didn’t remember everything, but there was enough to recognize the memory. Enough to relive the delightful experience.

But it wouldn’t do to share every detail with you. He chose his words with care, selecting a few key details and adding meaningless drivel for good measure. The day may come when he recounted every moment, but you were nowhere near ready.

“I remember red, a great deal of it. Someone was screaming, but I don’t recall why. Yellow walls and a rhododendron.”

He paused to let you note his every word, swirling blue across the black outline of feathers. The sparkles were a bit much, but he couldn’t do anything to fix that. By the time the scratching of your pen ceased, he was almost finished.

“That sounds intense. Did it feel like a dream or more like a memory?”

He paused, wondering how far he could press you today. It was worth a try; even if you refused it would help him regain a position of strength.

“You wouldn’t happen to have any purple, would you?”

Your eyes sparkled. A slight twist of your pink lips was all the confirmation he needed that you knew what he was up to and you didn’t even glance at your desk before you responded.

“I’m afraid not.”

Despite the setback, he couldn’t help but smirk. There was something odd about you, and every time he interacted with you it became clearer. You got the same amusement from the mental battle as he did, the same thrill every time you scored a point. The same rush of fascination and curiosity.

You were more than just another sheep.

All he needed to do was draw out the wolf.

“That’s a shame, Y/N,” he purred. Your chair squeaked as you shifted.

A soft knock on the door signaled the end of your hour with him. He sighed and handed you the clipboard, his drawing of Griffon’s proud flight on full display. Your eyes widened, a slight inhale escaping your lips that would fuel his fantasies for days to come.

“So that’s Griffon?”

He nodded as the door opened and Kevin approached, handing you the makeup and charcoal. It pained him to surrender the supplies, but this way you didn’t have to ask. A subtle difference, but one that reinforced his autonomy instead of your control over his life.

But there was one last gesture he wanted to make.

The moment Kevin freed his hands, he extended one to you with a soft smirk. The orderly’s meaty fist wrapped around his wrist and he didn’t fight back, content to wait for your response.

Suspicion tinted your eyes, mixing with interest as he parted his lips.

“I wanted to thank you, Doctor. I look forward to sleeping unrestrained tonight.”

You shared a glance with the orderly and he let go. The urge to strangle the man for his interference was powerful, but he ignored it. In due time, the man would pay. For now, let him imagine he had won. Far more interesting was your reaction.

You looked startled, but not fearful. More intrigued than anything else.

Perfect.

The same hand he licked the first time he met you clasped his own, shaking it in a gesture of mutual respect. You didn’t need to know his true goal; to feel your skin and memorize its texture. The knowledge would add depth to his fantasies and he focused on the smooth warmth, hungry for every detail he could glean from such brief contact.

The hands of one who works indoors…

He brushed his index finger across your wrist as you pulled back, a more intimate touch not immediately apparent to the accursed third party watching his every move. The barest twitch of your fingers revealed your awareness of his boldness, but you didn’t say a word. Another victory, then.

“Until tomorrow,” he murmured.

---Reader---

The heavy door clicked shut and you released a deep breath. Your heart was pounding, mind consumed with the artist’s simple caress. Those same hands that were capable of such artistry had taken at least three lives; you couldn’t afford to forget how dangerous he was. The mind games, the trickery and bargaining, none of it mattered if you lost your focus.

What is my focus?

You leaned back and pursed your lips. In broad terms, your goal with other patients was to help them reach a point where their ability to function in normal society was no longer impaired. If they weren’t capable of that much, you were meant to guide them to stability so they could at least have appropriate quality of life.

To envision V in normal society was close to impossible. You couldn’t picture him in a suit, sitting at a cubicle like ordinary folks. Imagining him on a commute was anathema; with a family, unthinkable. The man was an outlier and no amount of treatment would change that.

So how can I help him?

You growled in frustration and rubbed your eyes. The flesh he touched still tingled, the nerves jangling with odd enthusiasm. It made no sense; the man was a murderer and here you sat like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Absurdity. You were smarter than this, better than this.

This isn’t a comic book or some crappy romance novel. Life doesn’t work that way. He was trying to manipulate me and I cannot let him win.

You glanced at the drawing of Griffon, marveling at the unearthly beauty of the creature’s forked beak and massive legs. A demonic bird, the hallucination of a crazed murderer, and you found it beautiful. What an incredible mind he had, to come up with such a thing.

How sad to imagine all the things he could have done with that mind, instead of slaughter. He could have written the next Lord of the Rings, painted the next Sistine Chapel. Manifested something profound instead of destroying the lives of a young family.

Maybe he still can. If I can help him, who knows what he’ll create?

A subdued knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. Was it already noon? Time flew right by you, more proof of the ridiculousness surrounding you. With a final sigh you grabbed your purse and locked your computer, heading to join Kotomi for lunch.

“Hey Y/N! How was your weekend?” she asked as you entered the hallway.

Charlie buzzed you through the security door; Ben must have called out sick. “Pretty boring, to be honest. How about you?”

Her eyes sparkled as she described a trip to the museum with her mother, skimming over any interesting parts like she always did. The elder Ishida was legendary in her hatred of psychiatry, and every time she and Kotomi got together she had a new story of her mother’s lectures. You grinned as you reached for the button to call the elevator, all too aware of her heels.

“So, did she disown you for working here yet?”

“Y/N! Not so loud! Wait, what’s that on your wrist?”

You hadn’t noticed before, but a streak of charcoal marked where the artist touched you. It was just dark enough to draw attention and you rubbed it against your pants, grateful you wore black today.  A pale grey outline remained no matter how hard you tried and you huffed in annoyance.

“It’s charcoal,” you replied, rolling your eyes.

Her perfectly shaped eyebrows rose. “The artist?”

You nodded and stepped forward as the elevator arrived. Her heels clicked to join you as she crossed her arms and gave you an intense stare.

“You let him touch you? Have you lost your mind?!”

Did he do it on purpose? Was this why he wanted to shake my hand?

Lithe fingers grasped your shoulders as almond shaped eyes met yours. Her concern was sweet and you wished you had the right words to reassure her.

“Y/N, I’m worried about you. I know how you get with these people; you need to be extra careful with him. I’ve heard rumors, he sounds really dangerous,” she insisted.

You managed a small smile as a ding announced the elevator passing the second floor. There was no change in its motion and you licked your lips, searching for the right words. Of course he was dangerous; you weren’t an idiot, you knew that. And yes, maybe you shouldn’t have let him touch you, but Kevin was right there and you couldn’t let him have control by refusing.

“Look. I know, okay? I know what he’s capable of. I read the police report. But I have to take a few risks to help him, he’s too smart for the standard approach. It’s my job to work with the dangerous ones. I know what I’m doing.”

Her eyes softened and she dropped her arms, though she still looked troubled. The second ding marked your arrival at ground level and you stepped off in silence, wondering what else you could say to ease her concern.

“Do you want me to sit in on your sessions? Maybe I can help somehow,” Kotomi offered.

How did she do that? How did she make herself seem so genuine? Was she actually that genuine or was it all an act? It was impossible to say for sure, but you had no reason to doubt her sincerity. Her offer meant all the more considering her aversion to violent offenders, her fear of being around the most twisted minds.

You smiled at Lenny as he buzzed the two of you into the administrative wing. The echoes of Kotomi’s steps rattled through the air as you neared the staff lounge.

“That’s really nice of you to offer, but I’ll be alright. I promise to be careful,” you said.

The remaining charcoal on your wrist drew your eyes as you opened the door. You couldn’t deny the rush his touch gave you, despite the alarm bells that rang in your head. Maybe Kotomi had a point, maybe you were being reckless. No other patient had ever touched you so intimately, with or without permission. Was this response normal?

Did it matter?

~~~Next Chapter~~~

[mobius-prime]

211. Sonic the Hedgehog #143

The Original Freedom Fighters (Part 2)

Writer: Romy Chacon Pencils: Art Mawhinney Colors: J&A Ray

So it's time to find out just how the original Freedom Fighters were betrayed and lost. The guard at the Lake of Rings catches a ring and then lets Sonic and Hope watch the place for a bit while he delivers it to the castle, and Hope urges Sonic to continue his story, which he agrees to on the condition that afterward she'll let him go off to do his thing. One day when Sally was still young, Stripe was speaking with her and being kind when Peckers, who has the worst name by the way, burst in with some news.

That's right, they found out about the Zone of Silence years before the current Freedom Fighters did. They went into the palace on a mission to rescue the king, or at least to gather more information for a future rescue, but suddenly found themselves trapped within a room, with Scales leering at them from the outside and Robotnik stepping up beside him. Scales had apparently betrayed his teammates because he wanted power and also because it was "totally within his nature" as a snake, but true to form, Robotnik had some treachery of his own to enact, throwing a horrified Scales in with his fellows. Robotnik revealed to them that they were standing in his first room-sized roboticizer, before pulling the lever.

Oof. Uncle Chuck, still roboticized, saw the whole thing and had it recorded in his memory banks for posterity, but those in Knothole never found out what happened until years later when he regained his memory. All they knew was that their heroes had disappeared, and held funerals for them all befitting their status as heroes. The young Sonic was stunned and demoralized, as Stripe in particular had always been kind and encouraging to him, but ultimately the actions of the original Freedom Fighters were what inspired Sonic, Sally, and the others to form their own group and carry on the fight.

Now remember how I said this ties into something I've brought up before? I've talked many times about how the war against Robotnik has essentially been carried on the backs of literal child soldiers, but we've never really discussed why this came to be. Well, here it is. This is why. Remember that Robotnik's takeover came right on the heels of the Great War, with barely a few years at most separating the two wars. From Robotnik's perspective, he couldn't have picked a better time to stage a coup - the kingdom was weakened, and a lot of its best fighters had likely died or had to retire permanently due to injures from the previous war. Not to mention that a lot of people who could have helped in the current war were likely captured and roboticized in the initial fight before they had time to react - Robotnik would have known who posed the greatest threat to his rule and made sure the swatbots targeted them, and in addition, it's implied in the previous issue that Stripe was one of the only veterans who had the sense to run away rather than stand and fight. The original Freedom Fighters were basically all Knothole had left. And when they were lost, Knothole was vulnerable. Hope was in short supply. Hardly anyone had the ability or the mental fortitude to even try to carry on the fight.

And then this little band of orphaned kids rallied around the precocious princess, and took inspiration from those who had fought before them. These kids, most of whom were barely older than eight (and I'm not guessing at that number, it's literally confirmed later on in the comic that Sonic started striking back against Robotnik at the age of eight), banded together with the overconfidence of young children and put themselves in harm's way to save the planet. They grew up so surrounded by war that participating in it was second nature to them, and though each of them were hit with their own unique traumas from the things they'd seen and experienced, they kept up the fight, into their teens and into now. And like I've pointed out before, even now that many of the kingdom's adults are freed and willing to continue the fight for them, they refuse to give it up. Sure, Sally may be preoccupied with being active ruler right now, and maybe Rotor has retired from field duty to work on inventions back home, but everyone is still wholly invested in the fight despite their still-young ages. And that's both inspiring, and utterly tragic - especially considering that most of them aren't even self-aware enough to understand how awful throwing children into a war is. They just don't know anything different.

But anyway, as Sonic's story winds down, Hope thanks him and then rushes off, remembering her homework assignment for history and leaving an exasperated Sonic to guard the pool alone after all. The next day, she has her report all finished, and recites it in front of her class to much praise.

That is a great way to tie everything together, if you ask me. I'm sure it makes Mrs. Stripe and everyone else who personally knew the original Freedom Fighters happy to see the youth of today, even the youth of another species entirely, remember the sacrifice of those heroes.

Mobius 25 Years Later: Father's Day

Writer/Pencils: Ken Penders Colors: Jason Jensen

Are you ready, kids?! This is actually the best installment of this arc, period! It's relevant to the current conflict, it contains important character development, and a satisfying conclusion is reached by the end! I know, I know, I'm shocked as well. But my praise for this chapter is genuine, and you'll see why.

Lara-Su comes downstairs in the morning, wondering where her father is. It's hard to tell if this takes place shortly after her discussion with Knuckles last issue, or if this is the next day entirely or something, but either way, Julie-Su reminds her daughter of what day it is, which - well, I hardly have to tell you, it's right there in the title. It seems that on Father's Day every year, Knuckles visits the grave of Locke in the forest - it's been hinted at here and there that he's dead by the time of this arc, but this is our first clear confirmation of the fact. Knuckles drifts into memories, first of a conversation he'd had with Archimedes many years ago. They'd traveled to the crater in Downunda where Angel Island first lifted off after having spent several weeks together, and prepared to part ways, as Archimedes was planning to move here to Downunda permanently. Knuckles was somewhat baffled by his decision, having deep roots on Angel Island and being unable to relate to wanting to move somewhere else, but Archimedes pointed out that as Athair followed his own path, so must he, and so had Knuckles for that matter.

I think it makes complete sense for a slightly older Knuckles to have decided to end the Guardian tradition, given how much pain it has caused him over the years and how shady the whole operation could be. Archimedes said his goodbyes to Knuckles after telling him how proud he was of him, and Knuckles used his guiding star gem to head back home. Once there, he was shocked to find Lara-Le crying and distraught, and all she could manage to say was that something was wrong with Locke. Wynmacher called a cab and took them both up to the hospital in Echidnaopolis, where the doctors revealed to him that his father was getting weaker by the day and they couldn't figure out what was wrong. After some exploratory surgery, they determined that he'd developed pancreatic cancer and didn't have long left for the world, so a stunned Knuckles and Lara-Le were allowed to enter the room to speak to him once he'd woken up. From here, I'll let the next couple of pages do the talking for me.

I think this is literally the best thing Penders could have possibly written on this subject. I've pointed out how awful Locke has been many times, and one of my biggest criticisms of him was less about the character himself and more about how Penders handled writing him. Locke was based on Penders' own father, with whom he'd had a difficult relationship, and this colored his writing of Locke a bit for the worse. Locke was in many ways abusive, selfish, and distant from his son, and put Knuckles through hell for his own purposes. He was too shortsighted to see how this was affecting his son, and only when reality began to harshly and repeatedly bitchslap him in the face did he even begin to realize how badly he'd messed up. This has always been clear from the outside, but it's also obvious that Penders, naturally, wasn't keen on writing a character based on his own father as a bad guy, and the end result was Locke being portrayed in a bizarrely sympathetic light as he manipulated, spied on, and betrayed the trust of his son without any self-awareness at all. This scene is exactly what we needed in the light of all that - a scene where at the end of everything, Locke truly realized just what he'd done to the two people he loved most in the world, fully owned up and admitted to all his mistakes, and asked for forgiveness. He makes no excuses for his actions, instead laying it all bare and trusting them to judge him fairly on his own deathbed. I've said before that Locke would have been far more fascinating as a well-intentioned but too-extreme antagonist of the story, and ultimately this is exactly the kind of redemption scene I would have imagined for him at the end of said story. I may make fun of and even get angry with Penders from time to time, but I truly think that this is one of the prime examples of where his writing shines. He has great ideas, just often bad execution of said ideas. This is one time where he did it right.

Knuckles finishes reminiscing and comes back to himself in the present, standing in front of his father's grave, and begins to realize that in a way, he's been repeating the same mistakes that his father did with his own daughter. While Locke never gave him the choice not to become a Guardian, he's done the inverse with Lara-Su, never giving her the option of Guardianship at all. He decides that he's going to give her the choice after all, and thanks his father at the grave while Locke's ghost and Aurora watch proudly from the afterlife. And you know what? This is also a great scene! Because I 100% believe that Knuckles, after going through everything that he has, would want to end the tradition of Guardians and never put the island's fate on the shoulders of one person again. Let's face it, he's downright traumatized by some of the things he's seen and been through, and once he had a child of his own he'd want to protect them from going through any of the same things he did. And I fully believe that with that mindset, he could end up stumbling into the same "my way, no highway option" mindset that his own father had, just in reverse. He never realized just how his own hangups were affecting his daughter until he came here to meditate after all her pestering. And what makes this scene so great, ultimately, is that he learns from it. He doesn't continue down the manipulative, restrictive path that his father did, but rather opens up to the thought of listening to what his own daughter wants, and allowing her to make her own choices in life. This issue ends with a tribute to Penders' own father Kenneth, who lived from 1934 to 1982, and I find it a fitting end indeed. After all, for all my criticism, I can hardly condemn a person for wanting to pay loving tribute to their own parent. Good job, Penders - this issue's story was genuinely enjoyable, and I appreciate the work you put into it.

[thetypedwriter]

The Wicked King Book Review

The Wicked King book Review

By Holly Black

I know what you're thinking. Oh no. Not again.

Why yes. Yes, again. In fact, there is planned to be one more before the series is finished. The Wicked King is the second book in the trilogy by Holly Black, who is often heralded as the Queen of Faerie, and rightly so, seeing as she surgically altered her own ears to make her look like one of the fey.

Which, you know, personal choices.

Regardless, the second book in the trilogy was released January of 2019. If you recall my previous review for The Cruel Prince, this book was utterly polarizing with it’s horrible protagonist, its awful world building, and its addicting quality to want to see what happens to these heinous people in this vile world.

In my humble opinion, The Wicked King is far superior to The Cruel Prince in many ways. Number one: Jude Daurte. In the first novel, I was honestly horrified by the main protagonist. To me, she had no moral compass to speak of, next to no redeeming qualities in the ways of personality, and was an awful representation for young readers picking up YA.

However, in this second book, I feel like Jude really grows into herself as a character. Don’t get me wrong. She’s still god awful. But in book two, I feel like she truly embraces this awfulness inside of her which is in direct opposition to book one where she often seemed to fight the internal monster and constantly loses.

But in Book two, she knows she’s horrible and yet she begins to feel remorse for the way she is. Or at the very least, she wishes that she was a better human being. In a particularly candid moment (spoilers ahead), Jude kills Cardan’s asinine brother in a duel (how she managed to beat a trained, magical prince of Faerie is anyone’s guess) and then honestly wishes she was better and felt sympathy and pity as she stands in the courtyard dripping in his blood.

This, believe it or not, is progress for Jude.

There are other little moments in the novel where Jude shows improvement in terms of not being a complete psychopath which is good. It’s very difficult to relate to a character with no emotions, zero compassion, and ambitions that make absolutely no sense.

In addition, I really enjoyed Jude’s and Cardan’s relationship. I think the power struggle, the inherent differences founded on the fact that Jude is a human and Cardan is a faerie, and the fact that Cardan is on the throne due to Jude was super fascinating to read about. I enjoyed their back and forth, their attraction, and especially the twist at the ending. If I can give Holly Black any credit, it would be her shock endings. This one blew me away and I loved it.

Okay, now that we’re done with the positives, let us move on to the negatives.

Thankfully, there are less this time than there was in the previous novel.

The major issues I had with this book were brought over from book one. Mainly, I still don’t understand the appeal of this world at all. Jude fights tooth and nail day and night to be a part of this world that fucking hates her. It makes absolutely no sense that she wants to stay in play that despises the very core of her being, thinks less of her, mocks her, and doesn’t take her seriously.

In addition, while Jude and Cardan have some good plot development and characterization, the rest of the characters are nameless faces that are hard to remember and easier to blend together. It’s very difficult to retain why the King of Termites is important, who Nicasia is, and why we should care about literally anyone other than the main characters.

Lastly, Jude running an entire kingdom is surreal. Not only because she’s a sixteen? Seventeen year old girl? But also because we’re supposed to buy that she can run an entire kingdom, manipulate the prince, manipulate the general and control everything that a kingdom entails all the while dicking around almost every chapter doing other things.

I understand that this is fantasy but come on.

Setting all of that aside however, this was a really enjoyable read. The characters are intriguing, the romance is hot and unpredictable, and the novel is unique enough to capture your interest and draw you in. I can honestly say that I can’t wait until the last and final installment to see how the world of Faerie all works out.

Score: 7/10

Recommendation: Much better than book one. It’s comparable to watching the first season of a TV show and recognizing that the characters and the plot still haven’t been fully developed. This book is season three. The characters are getting more realistic and more interesting, the plot is in full swing, and at this point, you're ready to fully commit.

[vagrantblvrd]

All the Paths We Have Been On (1/1)

Summary: In a city like Los Santos, there’s drama and then there’s drama.

This little thing with the Battle Buddies and Agent 14 is the very much the latter, and it’s giving Trevor a headache of unbelievable proportions.

Notes: Prompt fill for @miss-ingno who was lamenting the notable lack of Trevor/Ryan, with either FAHC badassery or Kings AU shenanigans. :D?

Also, thief!Trevor because it's my fave. /o\

(Read on AO3)

In a city like Los Santos, there’s drama and then there’s drama.

This little thing with the Battle Buddies and Agent 14 is the very much the latter, and it’s giving Trevor a headache of unbelievable proportions.

“I’ve got aspirin for that if you need it,” Matt says, distracted by the puzzle Trevor’s brought to him.

All these lovely secrets locked away behind passwords and encryptions and other super secret spy things that Trevor may or may not have borrowed. (Stolen.)

Trevor considers Matt’s offer for a long moment, but ultimately decides against it because Matt is mocking him.

“Hilarious, Matthew,” he says and goes to root around in Matt’s kitchen to see if he has any people food, pretending he can’t hear Matt chuckling to himself over such a clever little joke, ha-ha.

Shocking absolutely no one, Matt does not have people food. He has various forms of junk food and the like, because he’s Matt, but nothing nutritious.

“You’re an animal,” Trevor yells, even thought Matt’s pulled his headphones on, the better to ignore any such accusations aimed his direction. “An absolute animal.”

Trevor takes his phone out and puts in a delivery order at a local pizza place Matt likes, cheerfully using one of Matt’s credit cards to pay for it. (Matt really should keep a closer eye on his wallet. Why just imagine what might happen if someone got their sticky little fingers on it?)

========

“Trevor.”

Trevor looks up from the magazine he’s perusing. Glossy pages and little sample packet-things tucked in between the utterly fascinating articles and whatnot, to see Ryan giving him an odd look.

“Yes, Ryan?”

Ryan’s eyes narrow because he’s a suspicious sort, all paranoid over the slightest thing – and points at the magazine.

“What are you doing?”

Trevor raises his eyebrows, because surely it should be obvious.

“I’m reading, Ryan.”

There’s a pause as Ryan frowns.

“I can see that,” he says, sounding so very put upon, as though Trevor’s being difficult. “What</i> are you reading?”

Trevor glances down at the magazine he’s reading, all pretty pictures and lovely font choices. Words all over the place.

“I’m reading a magazine article, if you must know,” he says, and waves the magazine at Ryan. “It’s very fascinating.”

Ryan’s expression slips towards highly dubious, which is, quite frankly, rude of him. No reason to be all snooty about people’s recreational reading choices.

It’s a popular fashion magazine

“I’m leaning how to – how do they phrase it?” Trevor muses, turning back to the first page of the article. “Oh yes, ‘please my man’. They’ve got some interesting pointers, handy little tips.”

They really do.

Trevor’s not so sure about the one with the ice cube, but -

“Oh my God,” Ryan says, sounding horrified and he rushes forward to try to and grab the wonderfully educational magazine from Trevor. “Stop, don’t you dare.”

Trevor lets out a scandalized gasp - he was reading that - and twists to avoid Ryan. The man is terribly persistent, however, and it turns into an impromptu wrestling match with no clear winner.

Trevor’s wily, but Ryan’s got all that lovely muscle on him. The only way to even things out is distract Ryan with a kiss – just a small one! - but then Ryan retaliates in kind, and really, it’s all a mess.

========

Trevor is being spied upon.

Unmarked cars across the street from his quaint little apartment at all hours of the day. Someone asking sweet Mrs. Hanley down the hall if she’s noticed anything odd about her neighbors. Shady men following him on his daily errands and afternoon strolls.

“You should do something about that,” Alfredo says, taking a sip of his latte.

It’s a lovely weekend afternoon and the two of them are sauntering along, trendy coffees in hand.

Trevor pauses to check his hair in the reflection of a storefront, and sighs at the figure hastily ducking behind a tree down the street

A tree>.

It’s not even a particularly large tree.

“I feel bad for him,” he admits. “The poor man is just doing his job.”

Poorly, it’s true, but he’s trying. (Trevor’s been subjected to enough anime marathons with Ryan to know that it’s a noble endeavor all its own.)

Fredo snorts, leaning in to check his own hair, shoulder bumping companionably against Trevor’s.

“You need help, let me know, alright?”

Trevor hums, this little spot of warmth in his chest at Alfredo’s offer.

“Will do,” he says, and then they’re back to sauntering again with his tail scurrying along behind them to keep up.

========

Ryan sighs, as though everything is terrible and Trevor is not helping.

“Hello, Ryan.”

Another sigh, Ryan running a hand over his face and looking very much like he has things he would like to say, but can’t find the right words to do so.

“Do I want to know what you’re up to?” he asks after a few moments have passed.

Ah. He must have noticed the unmarked van that that followed Trevor all the way to Ryan’s apartment.

Trevor mulls his question over for a bit.

Thinks about the stolen files Matt’s still working on. The shady men spying on him. Other things Ryan doesn’t need to worry about.

If Ryan did know what Trevor was up to, he’d get all annoyed and angry about it. Yell a bit too, all  Jeremy and I are handling it and you did what?!  and oh my God, Trevor, are you fucking kidding me?

Probably for the best that he doesn’t know.

“Mm, no,” Trevor says, and smiles winningly at Ryan as he drops down on the couch beside him, leans in to peck him on the cheek. “Welcome home, by the way.”

Ryan sighs, corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he glances at Trevor.

“You’re supposed to be the responsible one, you know.”

Trevor rolls his eyes at that, because he still doesn’t know where Geoff got that idea from.

“Yes, well,” he says, puts a little tease in his voice. “Compared to you, I suppose I am.”

Ryan’s aim is, as always, incredible, but Trevor manages to deflect the throw pillow aimed at his face at the last second, Ryan’s laughter in his ears as he does.

========

Trevor’s gotten his hands on files regarding the Battle Buddies in the past. A little light reading while Geoff considered hiring the two of them on for a job.

Tale as old as time, theirs.

Two uniquely talented individuals with their guns and explosives and other fun toys doing dirty deeds for the government only to get burned by that very same government. A bit of running and hiding and thrilling adventures that ended with them turning to a life of crime.

All these ethics and morals guiding their choices, and – inevitably, some might say - they’d caught Geoff’s eye.

He’d put Gavin and Matt digging into things on their end. Sent Trevor out to see what he could find. Let Alfredo loose, asking after them here and there, discover what the Battle Buddies had been up to since they’d come to Los Santos, all those contacts of his.

Point being, he knows what they were up to while working for good old Uncle Sam.

The new files he managed to get his hands on that Matt’s finally cracked -

Well.

Now he knows where Ryan got that nasty little scar on his back from, why Jeremy always insists on wearing body armor.

Unpleasant read, and Trevor’s got a new To-Do list in his head right next to all the others. It would be a crime to let those responsible think they’ll won’t have to take responsibility for their part in that, won’t have to deal with the consequences of their actions.

Agent 14 seems to be a smidge less reprehensible than those particular individuals, but only just. (Coercion is still coercion after all, and this whole situation has gotten tiresome.)

There are only so many times he can stand by and watch Ryan and Jeremy ask Geoff for time off to see to personal matters only for them to come back after being gone for days, weeks, worse for wear, and this look to them Trevor’s all too familiar with.

So.

A little meddling on Trevor’s part, some of Matt’s magic when it comes to pesky encryption matters. The rest of the crew being their delightful selves acting (inadvertently) as interference as Trevor puts his little scheme in action. (This isn’t a favor nor an obligation on Trevor’s part, it’s a joy.)

“Mr. Collins. I wasn’t, ah, expecting to see you. Tonight. In my home.”

Trevor looks away from his perusal of the books lining Agent 14’s bookshelves, tips of his claws skimming over gold foil lettering.

“Oh, well,” Trevor says, turning to face him. “This was meant to be a surprise, you see.”

Agent 14 has that amiable smile on his face, seems friendly and open. A face you can trust, even though they both know it for a lie.

“Is that so?”

Trevor hums, studying him thoughtfully.

Agent 14 has an odd sort of charisma to him. Comes off as the charming, roguish sort. Reckless and devil-may-care about things, but Agent Rackman isn’t the sort who would tolerate his involvement if he was wholly incompetent.)

“I have a proposition for you,” Trevor says. “An offer you can't refuse, so to speak.”

Agent 14 stares at him for a long moment, and then he laughs. This quiet little chuckle as he crosses his arms.

“I don’t suppose this has anything to do with the security breach at the IAA building last week?”

Trevor shrugs, smile touching his lips.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

There’s another little standoff, Agent 14 waiting to see if Trevor’s foolish enough to incriminate himself - no - and then the man sighs again, rubbing the bridge of his nose and muttering to himself.

“Alright, lay it on me.”

“As a show of good faith,” Trevor says, plucking a memory card from one of the pouches on his belt.

“What’s on it?” Agent 14 asks as he accepts the memory card with a raised eyebrow.

“The IAA’s NOC operative list.”

Agent 14 gives him a sharp look, and Trevor shrugs again.

There had been a time Ryan and Jeremy would have been counted among them, and the thought of using those agents’ lives as bargaining chips leaves a bad taste in Trevor’s mouth.

“I see,” Agent 14 says, flippancy gone.

Trevor gives him a wry smile and starts talking, strikes a deal they can both live with. (A little give and take, and a favor owed for services rendered.)

========

“I thought you said your grandmother lived in Florida,” Ryan says, leaning against the door frame to watch Trevor pack.

Trevor glances at him, takes in the frown on his face that’s equal parts concern and the ever-present suspicion. (Always there, but at least this is the kind that’s suspicious for Trevor, odd as it sounds.)

“Hmm, no. You’re thinking of the other one,” Trevor says, hands on his hips as he stares down at the clothes laid out on the bed.

The eternal struggle of finding that perfect balance, ratio of shirt to pants to underwear to socks. Always too many of one and never enough of the other, and such a bother.

“Trevor.”

He doesn’t wince at the way Ryan says his name, all this worry to it when he’d come home to Trevor packing a weekend bag. Family matters and not to worry it wasn’t serious but he would need to be there in person, and what kind of souvenir would Ryan like?

Another tacky shot glass for the man who doesn’t drink, or perhaps some terrible t-shirt or a lovely little keychain?

“Yes, Ryan?”

Ryan is being unfair, looking at Trevor, and if he manages to leave Los Santos without a tail it will be a miracle. (But that’s what’s so nice about a crew like theirs, a few words in the right ears and Ryan will have other things to be worried about.)

“If you’re in trouble - “

Trevor’s heart does this little melty thing, because Ryan is an idiot – Trevor’s, to be sure – and far too sweet for someone reputed to be the scourge of the city.

“Ryan, please,” Trevor says, fingers pressed to his chest in shock that Ryan could possibly think Trevor would ever be in trouble. “I have never done anything wrong in my life.”

Ryan’s mouth snaps shut, eyebrows just shooting up in a – quite frankly – insulting show of incredulousness.

“Everything’s fine, negative nancy,” Trevor says. “I promise.”

========

Everything is mostly fine.

It’s true that things haven’t exactly gone to plan on this little mission of his. Little mistakes here and there that added up to extra guards and security measures that weren’t accounted for. A tripped alarm that has the guards searching for him, but Trevor managed to get the files Agent 14 and his people were so keen on, and he hasn’t been spotted.

He’s not going to accuse Agent 14 of handing him bad intel, but there have been entirely one too close-calls and near-misses for him to call it a coincidence. (The fact that this little mission was originally intended for the Battle Buddies isn’t helping in that regard.)

Also -

”Trevor, what the fuck.”

He can hear Matt in the background on Jeremy’s end of the line. Muffled and distorted as he talks to someone else. Deeper voice, something of a growl to it.

Ryan does not sound happy.

Not that Trevor would expect him to, what with the lies and whatnot leading up to this grand old shitshow.

It really was too much to hope that Matt and the others would be able to keep Ryan and Jeremy distracted enough to stay in the dark for long.

“Now is maybe not the best time for this, Jeremy,” he whispers, his hand hand cupped over his mouth. “I’m a little busy.”

“Yeah, gee,” Jeremy drawls, unnecessarily sarcastic. “I wonder why that is?”

Trevor rolls his eyes as he makes his way up to the upper floor and closer to the convenient hatch in the ceiling he used to get inside.

“Not that I’m not enjoying your scathing disapproval,” Trevor says, “but I have to go.”

He’s just about to end the call when something occurs to him.

“Oh, and please don’t let Ryan kill Matt,” he says. “Everything would be so awkward.”

That gets a sigh from Jeremy, but it’s the reluctantly amused sort so Trevor has faith he’ll at least put up a token effort.

Trevor ends the call and tucks his phone away safely before moving the hatch aside and pulling himself up and into the vent. Crawls the last little bit until he hits the roof. From there it’s a matter of parkouring himself a few buildings over and down to street level where there’s a car waiting for him.

Well, that and meeting with Agent 14 before explaining himself to Ryan when he gets back to Los Santos, which will be all kinds of fun.

========

Agent 14 has a black eye.

Nasty looking thing, and Trevor doesn’t call attention to it as he hands the files over because that would be rude of him, wouldn’t it?

“I trust you’ll keep your word?”

That was the whole point to this after all.

“I get the feeling I would regret it if I didn’t,” Agent 14 says ruefully. “But for what it’s worth, I will.”

It’s the best he can expect out of someone like him, and hopefully it will be enough.

========

“Funny story,” Trevor starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t actually have a grandmother.”

Well, he must have at some point, but given the actual state of Trevor’s family life, he’s never met either of his grandmothers.

Ryan’s standing there, all tall, dark, and intimidating. This downturn to his mouth and all this anger (worry) in his eyes, and Trevor -

“I don’t suppose you happen to know what happened to Agent 14’s face?” he asks, because of course he does.

Can’t help himself, even though Ryan is clearly unimpressed with Trevor and his everything right now.

“Well you know,” Trevor says, and smiles grimly when Ryan’s eyes narrow. Realizes Trevor’s not playing around anymore. “I know you and Jeremy seem to think it’s fine – just a thing that happens – that the two of you just hop to whenever Agent 14 shows up with some new problem he needs help with.”

Never seems to end with him, really. All sorts of problems and situations that his agency and all their little allies can’t seem to handle on their own, so of course they have no choice but to turn to the Battle Buddies.

Some of their best people they fucked over, once upon a time.

Damn near got them killed, and then spent a significant amount of time attempting to arrest for crimes they didn’t commit. (Quite the irony with all that nonsense sending them into hiding in Los Santos and everything that followed after to get them where they are now.)

“We don’t – We don’t do that,” Ryan says, completely convincingly.

No really. One hundred percent convincingly, why just look at how convinced Trevor is.

“Look, I know you both seem to think there’s no other choice in the matter, that there’s no other way,” Trevor says, with all the appropriate drama necessary, “but – and no offense meant, you’re both idiots.”

The worst of the worst.

Stupid and stubborn in turns, and too familiar with the kinds of threats leveled against the people they care for – the people making the threats – to chance risking things.

Don’t see a problem in going off on those little missions the government can’t seem to handle themselves. The ones they need to resort to blackmailing criminals for so long as the rest of the crew isn’t involved. (Oh, Geoff and the others were working on a fix, but they were taking too damn long with it. Trevor just...sped things along a bit.)

It’s honorable, in a way.

Admirable.

Stupid as hell.

The Fake AH Crew is far from infallible, but they’re hardly helpless. Unable to handle the threats the people like Agent 14 like to toss around, do a little digging of their own to counter them. (So many secrets the government doesn’t want the world to know about just waiting for someone to come along and steal.)

“And what you did was any better?” Ryan asks, and he’s not angry anymore so much as tired, which is more than understandable.

Trevor just looks at Ryan.

From the outside it probably looks like unspeakable amounts of hypocrisy on his part.

“Yes, well,” Trevor says. “That was different.”

He had a plan, and it worked.

Ryan and Jeremy aren’t under anyone’s thumb anymore, won’t need to chip away little bits of themselves because they think it’s the only thing they can do.

Granted, it involved breaking into the IAA building and pilfering some of their secrets, blackmailing various bits of the government, and putting himself in much the same position as Ryan and Jeremy to do it, but -

“Super, super different.”

Ryan squints at him like he can’t decide what breed of idiot Trevor is.

“My point is, Ryan,” Trevor says, and realizes he’s lost the thread somewhere in there. “Uh. Yes.”

Something about them all being idiots while the government is full of assholes and -

“Jesus Christ,” Ryan sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose as though Trevor’s the worst human being ever.

Trevor laughs when he sees the state of Ryan’s knuckles.

“I took a picture of his face, if you want to see it,” Trevor says, taking his phone out. “Get a look at your handiwork and all.”

Ryan sighs harder, but when he lowers his hand there’s the teeniest hint of a smile on his face.

Super tiny, but still there, which is the important thing.

“Sure, why not,” he says, and yes, fine.

There are obviously Talks in their future. All these conversations dealing with how not to be the kind of idiots they are and so on, but for now -

For now, this little moment of smug satisfaction as Trevor pulls up the photo of the truly glorious black eye Ryan gave Agent 14 is a nice place to be.

[moiraineswife]

Do you have any Autistic!Rook headcanons you would like to share??

AS IT HAPPENS. I HAVE SEVERAL. BECAUSE THIS AS A CONCEPT DELIGHTED ME WHILE READING. HERE WE GO: 

(I would like to note that i am NOT reading this as a catch-all ‘fair folk in general are autistic’ bc a)- I don’t think they all do, Rook is specific and unique in this regard, and b)- I dislike the idea of just ‘all these inhuman characters are autistic’ bc icky associations with autistics then being inhuman...which we are not) 

ODD DISCLAIMER OVER. ONWARDS AND UPWARDS. 

Rook + Cat Metaphors: 

This sounds like an odd place to start but it was legit my favourite thing. Cats are fairly often associated with autistic people, as it happens, and are a generally more accepted symbol for it than...Other unspeakable things. Not getting into that, though, there were two things that made me die with delight...Which I will now explain: 

And yet looking at Rook Iimagined a cat proudly bringing its master dead chipmunks, only to watch thetwo-legged oaf lift these priceless gifts by the tail and fling them unceremoniously into thebushes.

Cats, like autistic people, generally have their actions/behaviours misunderstood. What they see as giving affection tends to be met with a reaction contrary to what they were expecting. See: above. 

Through it all Rook wore anexpression of aloof perplexity, as a cat might watching its favorite furnitureget moved about without its permission.

This one was The Best. Cats, like autistic people, typically have big problems with change, and can actually become genuinely stressed out/ill with changes in their household being made, such as moving the furniture around. Rook just being ???? ‘why are we doing this’ was too much. 

Then he strode right overand, in one smooth motion, insinuated himself into the bed next to me, facingme, under the covers, with the bold and unselfconscious vanity of a cat sittingdown on an open book.

I can’t explain exactly why this strikes me as being connected to an autistic thing but it just...It just does. and it’s another cat metaphor I deeply enjoy. 

Right, self-indulgent enjoyment of cat metaphors out the way, here are many more things: 

Difficulty Identifying Emotions/Trouble with Social Cues: 

“How can this be,” he said to himself quietly. That wasall it took; I gave a strangled sob. He crouched and scrutinized my face, whichI’m sure at that moment looked anything but attractive. “What do you require?”

Rook being baffled by the human notion of having to cook things is one thing, but the way he scrutinises her is more telling for me. Isobel gets caught up in thinking that she probably doesn’t look too attractive at this moment in time, but I’m pretty sure Rook is just trying to...Figure out wtf she’s feeling/how he should respond to this. And his response is deeply pragmatic. He doesn’t respond to her emotional needs/reactions, purely her practical ones. (There are a LOT of examples of this, I won’t go through them all) 

As an aside here, this is where I think Rook differs from other fair folk, and what tips him onto the spectrum. He isn’t human, so it’s reasonable to assume that human emotions are something he struggles with. But the thing is that the other fair folk who have experience with humans are much better at this than he is. The entire plot revolves around Gadfly knowing Isobel well enough to predict how she’ll respond to his promptings, so he can manipulate her into doing what he wants. 

Lark is also a good example of this. Before meeting Isobel, she had no contact with humans whatsoever. However, in a relatively very short space of time/very limited experience, she’s able to understand Isobel’s reactions/ways of displaying emotion and translate them to recognise other situations they should be used in. (She witnesses Isobel crying, understands it’s a display of sadness/upset, and correctly mimics it during her apology, because she understands that’s an instance where that emotion should/can be correctly applied) 

So the fair folk quite obviously have the capacity for recognising and understanding human emotions, as well as understanding how to respond to them. Rook, however, has definitely had contact with humans before, and has had enough of it to enable him to fall in love with another human before Isobel, but remains utterly hopeless at identifying her emotions. 

He drew in a breath. “I know it’s—wrong, that I care so much aboutthe pin. I can’t explain it. It’s—”

“It isn’t wrong.” My voice was so soft I barely heard myselfspeak. “Rook, it isn’t. It’s just human.”

This I’m saying is an example of Rook not being able to identify his own emotions (alexithmya) which is fairly common among autistic people. (Isobel’s response would be a tiny bit grating if Rook was canon!autistic, but given that he’s not, and given how ‘human emotion’ gets lumped together in this book, I’m dealing with it.) 

I whirled around. “Your blood did this.”

Rook stood watchingme, a conflicting clamor of emotions in his eyes: fascination observing myhuman response. Hope that I would find what he had created beautiful. Andbeneath that, sorrow, as raw as an open wound.

Desperation flashed across his features. He struggled to composehimself, but couldn’t. Finally he turned on his heel and put his back to mewith a dramatic billow of his coattails, drew his sword a few inches, and pretended toinspect the blade.

The way that he ‘observes’ her response, as though learning (which he likely is) consciously how to interpret her...But also the fact he has no idea how to process/regulate/respond to HIS OWN emotions, and that he retreats to something familiar to avoid looking at Isobel, and also to calm himself down. 

“You could offer to sleep on the floor, like a gentleman.”

He appeared horrified by the suggestion.

I love this bit, bc for all the fair folk are very much concerned with politeness and proper behaviour, this one is just...Totally lost on him. Like excuse u why would I offer to sleep on the floor Isobel??? The floor is hard and uncomfortable? How does this prove I am a gentleman? How is this polite??? Isobel I think this is impolite, that you would suggest I sleep on the floor. Do you not like me Isobel??? Do you not want me to be here?? Isobel?????? 

“And I’m not certain you’re in any state to protect me,” I wenton, sensing a lost cause. “Just now you were almost assassinated by a teapot.”

“Isobel.” Rook looked at me gravely. “Isobel, listen. The teapotis of no consequence. I can defeat anyone, at any time.”

“Oh, is that so? That’s the truth?”

“Yes,” he replied.

 I love the teapot line, you love the teapot line, we all love the teapot line. But I just...love the way that he talks. The pattern of it strikes me as an autistic thing. Just the way that he talks. And the very simple answer that he gives ‘yes’ it’s just a kneejerk thing, he doesn’t even think about it. (I know fair folk have to tell the truth, but that doesn’t mean that they have to answer questions like this) 

Especially when this one is definitely rhetorical. Because she knows full well that he’s speaking the truth, because he can’t lie. But this is another missed social cues thing: Isobel asks a question, Rook answers it. 

“Have you ever stopped to think that just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should?”

His eyes narrowed. “No,” he said.

 Same thing here. 

Comfort Objects/Stimming: 

He patted at his chest in alarm and then ducked to hunt throughthe wildflowers. This wasn’t the leisurely search of someone who’d lost apocket watch or a handkerchief. Rather, heclawed at the ground with a wide-eyed desperation that could be inspired onlyby the loss of a priceless and irreplaceable treasure. When he found it, hegripped it tightly in his hand. He moved his thumb to the hidden clasp. Butthen he stopped himself, remembering I was there, and started to put it in hispocket instead.

My heart hurt for him. It was painful to watch Rook reduced to this over something so small. He cared moreabout that pin than most people cared about everything they owned in the world.

I know the raven pin has sentimental significance because it was a goodbye present from his lost love, but this just reminds me of the panicked search for a lost comfort object, something which a lot of autistic people have. (Especially with the way his thumb moves towards the clasp even after his found it, which could definitely be a stim, because it’s clearly a habit he uses to soothe himself)  

Speaking of stimming...

His hand had wandered to myhair, and he spread it out on the moss, combingthrough the strands with his fingers until it gleamed as straight and smooth asit could get. It seemed impossible that someone who had lived for hundreds of years and hunted fairybeasts for sport could find this entertaining, but his expression wastransfixed. 

That’s definitely what this is. 

“What a lovely bird,” Irepeated in a syrupy voice. “Yes, you’re the loveliest bird.” I stroked hisback. He made a pleased muttering sound in his breast. Soon his smug silenceindicated that he was quite content to remain as he was, so long as I continuedmy praise.

and this tbh. 

Literal Thinking: 

“Rook,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “before I get up,you have to promise to never touch me again without my permission.”

“I can touch whomever I please.”

“Have you ever stopped to think that just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should?”

His eyes narrowed. “No,” he said.

“Well, this is one of those things.” I saw he didn’t understand.“Among humans it’s considered polite,” I added firmly.

A muscle jumped in his cheek, and his smile had faded. “Well, thatdoesn’t sound in the least reasonable. What if you were being attacked, and Ihad to touch you to save your life, but I couldn’t because I needed to requestyour permission first? Lettingyou die wouldn’t be polite.”

“Fine. You can touch me in that case, but every other time youneed to ask.”

 I really love this bit. She knows he doesn’t get what she’s saying, so she rephrases it somewhat to something that he will understand. But I love his response even more. He understands what she’s saying, but he still doesn’t quite GET it. And his brain goes immediately, (and often), to practical thoughts. 

She puts this rule in place, and he immediately starts...Not looking for loopholes, but considering the practical problems that it might pose. What if they’re in danger and he has to save her life? She would never have considered this as being unreasonable, because she would expect him to adapt, and realise that is a situation when it’s acceptable to touch her, because of the risk it poses. But he needs her to accept that as a limitation, and see his way of thinking. And they reach this...Little compromise that weaves through the rest of the story. Which I like a lot. 

Before I could find my voice and ask him to set me down, hedropped me like a hot coal. I landed inthe wildflowers with an undignified whump. Horrified, I squashed my legs together, hunchedinward with my arms clamped over my chest, and stared up at him. He looked asaghast as I did.

“Why did you just—” I began, at the same moment he blurted out:

“You stopped being in peril, and I couldn’t touch you any longer!Are you all right?”

 This harks back to their earlier promise, and poses some potential problems in the literal thinking category because there’s fair folk no lying/keeping promises magic wrapped up in it. But I think it’s still an expression of the way Rook’s mind works. I’m fairly sure other fair folk would have been able to work around their promise by telling themselves Isobel was still in enough danger to merit them touching her (still being naked and vulnerable in the spring court) but Rook is just....Too literal for that. 

“A fire, to start with. Some . . . some branches tomake a spit out of, I suppose. Or maybe we could cut it up and skewer it? I’venever cooked a rabbit outdoors before.” I might as well have started reciting an incantation. “Wood,” Irevised for him. “Some kindling about this size”—I spread my hands—“and a long,thin, sturdy stick with a pointy end.”

“Very well.” He rose. “I will bring you your sticks.”

 This isn’t strictly literal thinking but goddammit I love the ‘I will bring you your sticks’ line. But it also is. Isobel reels off her instructions and he just gets up and off he goes to get her what she needs. No muss, no fuss

. It’s also an example of rigid thinking. Isobel gives him a set of clear, precise instructions, and he follows them to the letter. (And I can get this in with APD, and the struggle to follow verbal lists, given his confusion of her initial explanation of what she needs. Once she gives clear, concise instructions, which she also pairs with a visual demonstration of what she wants, he understands and obeys) 

He halted just as he was about to disappear, shoulders stiff.“Will that be all?”

A devilish part of me wondered how far I could push him. If Ipretended it was necessary for my Craft, could I command him to stand on hishead or turn in a circle threetimes while he prepared the hare? Only my empty stomach’s increasingly urgentdemands prevented me from having some fun at his expense. “For now,” I replied.

 She probably could have done tbh. Not to say Rook, or autistic people, are incapable of critical thought but it’s more...A combination of literal thinking, and the struggle with reading people’s intentions. Isobel knows about this thing, and he does not, he has no reason to assume she would lie about what she needs, and without any knowledge of the required steps involved in cooking, and also without the inclination to suspect Isobel of having any intentions that aren’t purely practical/are in any way malicious, he’d probably be inclined to do whatever she asked, see: ‘I will bring you your sticks’. 

Organisation/Piling: 

However, as I crunched afterhim through the brambles, which disintegrated at a touch, my eyes fell on theneat pile of twigs and leaves he had taken from my hair—and despite myself Ismiled.

I love this little detail, too. Because not only did he pick the twigs and leaves out of her hair, but he further felt the need to pile them up neatly instead of just dumping them on the ground as twigs and leaves tend to be. This one is a little stereotypical but it’s also not false (and is a thing i know I would unconsciously do as well, so you know...) 

Difficulty With Empathy/Responding to Emotional Upheval: 

Grief smashed through my final defenses like a battering ram. Igave a strangled sob, so tired I couldn’t tell if my scratchy, aching eyes owedthemselves more to exhaustion or tears.

Rook sank onto the end of thesettee. He hesitated, then peeled his coat off and laid it over me. It was warmand smelled of him. Overwhelmed by his gentleness, I began weeping again inearnest. He drew back in alarm, clearly thinking he’d made things worse.

“Er,” he said. He patted the nearest part of me he could reach,which was my foot. “I apologize for . . . that. If you wouldstop crying now,” he added, a trifle desperately,with a note of princely command.

 This was the part that officially finished me. He knows Isobel is upset, and that he should do something to help/wants to help, but isn’t quite sure what to do. He also misreads her renewed crying, assuming that he’d done the wrong thing in giving her his coat. And then we reach the foot patting which is just...A hilarious ‘rules gone wrong’ type thing (Internal Rule: Human is upset - pat the human, this makes them better. Application: *Rook pats Isobel’s foot* A+++ Comfort Skills) 

And it’s all topped off by ‘If you would stop crying now’ which is just....The most wonderful response to a crying person EVER (and also mirrored in the way he orders her to get control of herself when she’s laughing hysterically over the hare incident near the beginning of the book). The desperation is perfect too, it’s like, I know this crying is an expression of your upset, and I don’t want that to be the case, I don’t know what to do, it’s making me uncomfortable please stop I don’t know how else to help you. 

The confusion in ‘I apologize for...that’ is good too bc he’s like ???? Isobel ???? Isobel what am I apologising for????? Isobel I did the right thing ???? Isobel why are you like this I do not understand. 

(the princely command is amazing too, like, maybe if I give it as an order that’ll work. Like we have transcended comfort here, he tried that, that didn’t work, now he’s just moving on to other ways of dealing with a situation. Which is grand in a practical problem but...Not ideal when it comes to emotional ones) 

OKAY. I THINK THAT’S ENOUGH TO BE GOING ALONG WITH. 

TL;DR: Rook is my precious autistic bean and this headcanon improved my enjoyment of this book by approximately 10000% bc god bless characters I can relate to on this level tbh. 

((As a fun side note: I also read Isobel as autistic, and did so before I did Rook. I think if she wasn’t set beside Rook, this would be far more obvious, but it’s still there with her. And honestly, I’m tripping over hc rep in this book and I’m Delighted. BLESS U FOR THIS QUESTION)) 

[tyrantisterror]

Shin Godzilla: First Impressions

After, like, literally a year since its release, I’ve finally seen Shin Godzilla.  I feel like I need to process it a lot more before I can give it an actual review – and rewatch it at least once – but I also feel a, I dunno, expectation to weigh in on it at this point?

There’s going to be some spoilers here, and it might get long winded, so I’ll put most of my assorted thoughts after the cut.  Here’s the short version first though:

It’s one of the most unique takes on Godzilla – both the character and the story – that we’ve ever gotten.  It has excellent visuals, and succeeds in its attempt to make Godzilla more terrifying as a source of horror and conflict than the character has ever been before. It’s creative and intensely strange.

And I’m kind of worried to admit I didn’t love it the way, like, almost all of you do.

I didn’t hate it.  In fact I like a lot of aspects of it.  But it’s not going to be one of my favorite Godzilla movies and I’m so, so sorry for that.

When I did a similar first impressions review for the 2014 Godzilla reboot by Legendary, I mentioned how that movie had my favorite flavor of Godzilla’s characterization.  There are a lot (or at least a few) different takes on what kind of character Godzilla is, comparable to, say, Batman.  I’ve been pretty consistent in saying that my favorite take on Godzilla is the heroic one from the mid and late Showa movies – the Godzilla of the 60’s and 70’s, who transitioned from ravaging monster to defender of the earth and heroic leader of Earth’s many guardian monsters.  I am, in other words, a Showa Fanboy.

I recognize that this take on Godzilla is far from a unanimous favorite.  In fact, my experience with the Godzilla fandom has led me to the conclusion it’s actually pretty unpopular – to extend the Batman comparison, this is sort of the Adam West 60’s Batman of Godzillas, and is loathed for the same reasons people loathe that take on Batman.  It’s too cheesy, it undermines the dark roots of the character, and worst of all, it made people think this story is silly.

This might be why almost every Godzilla story made after the 70’s took a very different approach, positioning Godzilla as an eternal (if sometimes sympathetic) threat to humanity.  The Heisei films are an iconic example of this take, with a Godzilla who undergoes many physical transformations and gains greater and greater power as his story goes along, but never once shifts on his stance of aggression against humankind.  While this Godzilla isn’t evil, he’s nonetheless incapable of reconciling his differences with humanity – he will always be a threat.

A lot of people love that Godzilla.  In fact, if I was forced to bet on it, I’d wager most fans prefer this take on Godzilla to all others.  I like it from time to time – some of my favorite Godzilla movies have this take on Godzilla.  It’s arguably truer to the original movie.  The 1954 Godzilla doesn’t find redemption.  He doesn’t reach a peaceful solution with mankind.  He has to be killed, with extreme measures no less. If we’re going with a first take = the “truest” and thus best take, then the Forever Antagonistic Godzilla fits the bill better than my favorite flavor.

The point of this rambling preamble is that a person who prefers an antagonistic, terrifying, remorseless Godzilla that is incapable of becoming anything OTHER than a threat to humanity are valid.  Wanting Godzilla to be less anthropomorphic and more grotesque is a valid view. Wanting Godzilla to be an utterly inhuman, insurmountable, unreasonable monster that forces humanity to either kill it or die trying is a valid view.

This might be your favorite flavor of Godzilla, and if it is, more power to you.  You have a right to prefer it.  It is as true a flavor of Godzilla as any other – perhaps ever truer than any other.

But it’s not my favorite flavor, and this is my blog for my personal opinions, so, y’know, if you disagree with my feelings about the movie, remember what tumblr you’re reading right now.

I feel like Shin Godzilla is the movie all the Heisei Godzilla films were trying to be.  It has the motif of monster transformations that was a hallmark of the Heisei movies, only done far more substantially – Godzilla’s mutations in the movie aren’t arbitrary power ups, but rather a significant part of the threat he poses as a continually “evolving” organism.  The film uses the Godzilla conflict to analyze Japan’s place in the modern international scene, but to far greater depth than any of the Heisei films managed. It also manages to make Godzilla absolutely horrifying and alien, making perhaps the least anthropomorphic take on the character ever committed to film.

Shin Godzilla also reminds me of David Cronenberg’s remake of The Fly.  Both movies take a Cold War monster, analyze the various horror elements that made it work in its day, and then take those elements to a far more gruesome yet logical extreme.  Shin Godzilla takes the radiation scars of the original Godzilla and translates them into an even more ragged, diseased appearance, creating a Godzilla that ranks among one of the most revolting fictional radioactive mutants ever designed.  It takes the invulnerability and implacability of the original monster and pushes it to the forefront, making a Godzilla that charges forward through everything in its path without every reacting to all the things it crushes in its wake.  Where previous Godzillas shrugged off the attacks thrown at them, this Godzilla doesn’t even give most attacks the dignity of reacting, but rather ploughs through bombardments as if there was nothing at all in its way.  When met with stronger resistance, this Godzilla rapidly evolves new weapons – in perhaps the film’s most gripping moment, he not only spits his trademark nuclear ray, but manifests dozens more from his spines. This Godzilla isn’t just strong – he is ever increasing in strength, mutating new useful adaptations at a rate that constantly leaves humanity several steps behind him.

The one thing this Godzilla downplays from the original is his personality.  The original Godzilla had a motive for his actions, and he expressed, well, feelings.  He was a character in addition to being a monster, and the movie had a great deal of sympathy for him even as he destroyed countless lives.  Shin Godzilla doesn’t completely do away with this aspect of Godzilla – there are a few fleeting moments, particularly in this Godzilla’s earlier forms, where you can see elements of a lost, confused animal in his actions.  But this element of his character is downplayed very quickly and severely – at one point the movie even has a character point out that communicating with the creature will be impossible.  Godzilla’s motivations are completely unknown to us, to the point where if it even has motivations is questionable – as far as the human characters, and thus the audience watching the film, can tell, Godzilla is just walking forward into Tokyo, well, for the sake of walking forward into Tokyo.  He isn’t trying to destroy us (as far as we know), he isn’t looking for food (and in fact has mutated to the point where eating is practically impossible for him, and also unnecessary), he’s just… walking forward.  Shin Godzilla is the story of a Godzilla that is as alien to human understanding as he is resistant to human weaponry – which is to say impossibly and infinitely so.

This all results in a take on Godzilla that is absolutely terrifying.  There is no doubt that this Godzilla is a horror character, and one particularly well suited to these modern times.  In a day and age where Cosmic Horror is increasingly trendy, this is the most Eldritch Abomination-y Godzilla we’ve ever gotten.  Or, in short, it’s the kind of Godzilla you’d expect to come from the guy who made Evangelion.

As a fan of horror and kaiju stories in particular, this take on Godzilla does fascinate me.  It’s a very different take than any before (even if the roots of it have a long tradition behind them in the character’s history), and an incredibly effective one when it comes to scaring the audience.  If a person wanted to make Godzilla scary and weird above all else, this would be the best Godzilla to look to.

If you like a Godzilla who has a depth of characterization, though, well… it might not be your preferred flavor of Godzilla.

Which, I must mention, is absolutely fine.  There are many horror masterpieces that use monsters as conflict first and characters either second or not at all.  There is an argument to be made that developing a monster as a character undercuts its potential to horrify – after all, if we can understand and sympathize with a monster, we start to feel something other than fear for it, while a completely alien monster can elicit fear and nothing else.  This take on Godzilla is undeniably more effective at eliciting fear than, honestly, any other take I can think of, including the original.  There’s nothing wrong with preferring the scariest take on a monster – that is, after all, the main trait monsters are supposed to have in the first place.

But, y’know, maybe some people (me) prefer different flavors, is all.

Godzilla isn’t the only character whose, well, characterization is downplayed in the film.  Most Godzilla movies have at least two plots: a Macroscopic plot involving a global conflict, and a Microscopic plot involving a personal drama between characters.  Generally the Macroscopic plot focuses on humanity dealing with Godzilla (and often other monsters), while the Microscopic plot focuses on the human characters dealing with some interpersonal drama between them – although at least one Godzilla movie reversed this formula, giving the monsters an interpersonal dispute and the humans a global drama involving an international conflict.  Shin Godzilla doesn’t have a Microscopic plot.  Every scene of this movie is focused on the conflict of Japan (and eventually the world at large) dealing with a giant, god-like monster.  There is no love triangle, no attempt to escape an island of terrorists, no plucky reporters looking for a scoop – there are just scenes of people trying to understand and stop a monster.

Most Godzilla movies have a couple of scenes where human characters explain what is happening and planning how to move forward with stopping the giant monster.  This movie is, by my estimation, roughly 90% composed of that sort of scene, with the remainder being devoted to monster scenes and montages of people suffering in the wake of those monster scenes.

That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and I feel the movie is composed this way to make a point.  The secondary antagonist of Shin Godzilla is bureaucracy, and the movie is as much about how political indecision and gridlock allow tragedies to exacerbate as it is about a giant monster rampaging through Tokyo.  The unique editing and cinematography give a chaotic and often rapid-fire pace to these scenes of officials debating how to approach the situation, allowing you to feel every twist and turn of the red tape that keeps out heroes from stopping the monster in time.  At its best, it feels like a compelling political drama – I was reminded of shows like The West Wing and House of Cards (both the original and the remake) more than once.  At worst, well, it feels like you’re watching a political drama when you want to be watching a monster movie (which also reminded me of The West Wing and House of Cards, to be honest).

The human characters have dimensions to them, but we really only know them in the context of their jobs. Yaguchi, the protagonist, is a maverick who wants to get stuff done despite proper procedure.  He’s dedicated and principled, and isn’t playing politics for personal gain, in contrast to many of his peers.  I don’t know much more about him than that, but the movie doesn’t need more from him than that – Shin Godzilla doesn’t care about the personal conflicts.  It has no need for a microscopic view – it’s the macroscopic view that holds the conflict, after all, and the macroscopic conflict is fucking complex.

I feel this is both a pro and a con.  Many earlier Godzilla movies feel a little unfocused – in the worst of them, the Microscopic and Macroscopic plots really don’t have a lot to do with each other, resulting in an entire plotline that makes the audience ask, “Why should I care about this?”  Some interpersonal conflicts feel pretty perfunctory compared to the macroscopic monster plot.  There are Godzilla movies that would be improved by having the focus of Shin Godzilla.

At the same time, the emotional stakes of this movie often feel pretty low.  There isn’t a scene that has the emotional punch of, say, the mother comforting her children in an alley as Godzilla (and thus their imminent death) looms closer and closer.  You don’t have character conflicts like Emiko Yamane’s agonizing choice between saving Japan and respecting the wishes of a man she admires, which is further muddled by that man’s unrequited love for her, her love for another man, and her father’s desire not to thoughtlessly kill the monster when its biology could save countless lives.  You do have a good number of characters struggling to choose between doing what’s right and doing what’s politically savvy, which in a few instances does provoke some emotional reaction, but there are far more complex character conflicts in this series to be found.

Again, I must state that I feel the movie is doing this for a point.  It’s an intentional, artistic choice – the magnitude of the political problem at the heart of this movie really doesn’t have room for the addition of smaller dramas, and the movie wants the audience to understand how frustrating and convoluted government work is even in the face of crisis.  We have characters that, as far as we’re told, have nothing going on but their fight against Godzilla, and yet the bloated system they work in still makes it nearly impossible to do anything meaningful in that fight.  As a result, hundreds if not thousands of people die in the gridlock, and a disaster is allowed to spiral to almost apocalyptic levels.  That is an interesting and fresh take on the Godzilla story, and an incredibly timely and important one.  Even outside of Japan, the idea of a government completely failing to save people like it’s supposed to do because the system itself is too complicated and self-serving to act quickly is something that affects, hell, all of us, basically?  I know it does in my country.

At the same time, that’s a pretty abstract conflict for the audience to get into, and it’s often hard to feel anything except frustration in reaction to it.

Likewise, the pacing of the movie, while often very effective, does drag from time to time. Our monster moments are fairly evenly spaced out – not lumped toward the end, but broken up by what felt like roughly twenty to forty minutes of Official People in Rooms Explaining What’s Happening and Debating How to Proceed from Here scenes.  It actually surprised me how much stuff had to happen between the Who Will Know? Godzilla scene (the absolute highlight of the film for my money) and the movie’s resolution – I didn’t count the time, but it felt like at least twenty minutes, which is a long time to wait between a film’s climax* and its ending, no matter how well done the political drama is.

(While climaxes aren’t always the same as endings in story telling – in fact, longer-form stories often have quite a great deal of distance between the two – in feature length films, the climax either occurs right before the ending/resolution, or IS the ending/resolution.  I suppose you could argue that the Who Will Know? sequence isn’t the film’s climax, but as of this viewing, I’d have to disagree – that moment really feels like the point where the conflict reaches its highest point, bringing all the plots to their extreme and leaving room for little else but the resolution of the plot.)

I think Shin Godzilla is a fascinating and utterly unique take on both Godzilla the character and Godzilla the story.  It has great creativity and gives us a spin on the kaiju genre that has never been seen before.  It stays true to many of the core elements of the original film, while taking them to all new extremes to make it feel fresh, new, and more terrifying than ever before.  The Godzilla franchise is better for having this movie in it.

But it’s not going to be one of my favorites.  It lacks a lot of the elements I love from the series, or at least purposely downplays them. It’s a good flavor of Godzilla – but it’s not my favorite, and I hope that’s ok.

[remainseatedatalltimes]

And the decade ends with a...

So concludes another year, and with it, another decade as well.  Now, I wish I could sit here and reflect on what a game-changing, exhilarating and revolutionary year 2019 was in the world of cinema.  But I can’t.  In fact, in my 8 years of writing this one time annual blog, there has never been a year that was as insipid as this past year was.  So much so, that unlike in previous years where I have always started this blog highlighting some of the greats of the year that was, this year I’ve decided to start with the bottom of the barrel. But don’t fret, there are a few glasses of the good stuff left.  Not many, but a few.  

To set the scene, my least favourite film of 2019 is a movie (and no, it’s not the one you’re thinking of), that will likely go on to be nominated for several Academy Awards in just a few short weeks’ time.  And it should be nominated. There is plenty to praise about this film.  But incredible performances, stylish directing and a story centered around one of the most fascinating events in modern history does not always a good film make.  Not when it’s told in such an obnoxious, pretentious and self-indulgent way.  So, to kick things off, I present to you, my least favourite film of 2019 – Once Upon A Time In Hollywood.

I should say straight off the bat that I am only a moderate fan of Quentin Tarantino’s work.  I love his film knowledge and his passion for making unique, and also highly nostalgic films.  But I’m also a firm believer that storytelling is at the heart of great cinema, and I often feel Tarantino sacrifices storytelling for brilliant, but often bloated camerawork and cinematography.

I had high hopes for Once Upon A Time In Hollywood however.  This was Tarantino working with an incredible cast, telling an original story set within one of Hollywood’s most infamous eras – and when the wonderfully retro and charming trailer dropped, I couldn’t have been more excited. This should have been the perfect canvas for Tarantino to shine.  

But instead, Once Upon A Time In Hollywood is a frustratingly tedious, hedonistic film that almost feels like it’s mocking its audience with its in-jokes and smarmy blurring of lines between real events and fiction.  In just shy of 3 hours, Tarantino essentially conveys 3 things: actors are self-doubting creatures that need constant re-assurance (no surprise); Hollywood is a game of relationships where not rocking the boat is paramount (again, no surprise – most industries are the same); and that shocking audiences is apparently very easy when you take a non-fiction story and completely change the ending (1 plus 1 equals 7).  I know what you’re thinking.  How can that possibly make for a near 3 hour film?  Well, I refer you back to Paragraph 2 of the Remain Seated At All Times Tumblr blog post titled “And the decade ends with a....”, where I stated that this film is “obnoxious, pretentious and self-indulgent”.  Just like that entire last sentence is superfluous…well…you get the point.

So to prove that moving on once you’ve made a point IS achievable, let me then proceed to the other atrocity of 2019:  Roadkill.  Sorry. I mean, Cats.

Now before anybody jumps up and down and complains that a movie that is – in fact – so much worse than Once Upon A Time In Hollywood isn’t my worst film of 2019, I offer you this one short piece of commentary.  Cats is the kind of epic, unequivocal, indescribable disaster that actually transcends awful into a place of almost fascination and reverence.  You know what I mean.  Like watching a YouTube video of someone mixing paint. You know it’s ridiculous to sit there and watch it – but you can’t look away.  You’re transfixed.  And I will take that over boring arrogance any day.

Cats is NOT boring.  It’s far from it.  Much like the musical that inspired it – which so happens to also be one of the worst musicals ever created – Cats is a bold, daring attempt to deliver something no one ever wanted to see.  Humans behaving like cats singing boring ballads.  Add to it an insipid score that needs serious remastering, awful special effects, and an enhanced story-line that makes zero sense (yes, I know, they’re dancing humans dressed as cats – why am I surprised by a ridiculous story-line?), and you have 90 minutes of sheer bewilderment.  The only saving grace:  Hopefully the movie has sufficiently taken the last of nine lives from this atrocious musical so that we never have to endure another performance – either in film, OR on stage.

So now that we’ve taken out the kitty litter, let’s look at some of the brighter sparks of 2019. Because, whilst there were actually NO films last year that I reviewed higher than 4-stars, there were still a few gems that warrant some attention.  These include last year’s Best Picture winner, Green Book; the dark and twisted take on one of DC’s greatest villains, Joker; the hilarious and earnest original whodunit, Knives Out; and the epic end to the greatest movie franchise in history, Avenger’s Endgame.

But taking the spot of my 3rd best film of the year was the latest film in the franchise that constantly delivers the impossible – a better film with each and every sequel.  In its simplest form, Toy Story 4 is a beautiful romantic comedy featuring two stand-out lead characters.  But whilst the lovely romance of Woody and Bo Peep take centre stage, it’s the gobsmackingly clever new characters including the show boater with no self-confidence – Duke Caboom– and my absolute favourite new character of 2019 (and spirit utensil) – Forky – that ultimately steal the show.  Pixar never ceases to amaze, and Toy Story 4 is no exception. The idea of creating a kids movie positioned around a romantic comedy, where a core character is made of trash, thinks of himself as nothing more, and needs to learn self-worth from scratch, is something truly extraordinary.  So thank you Pixar for giving me Forky.  A character that taught me so much, even at my age!

Speaking of education, slipping into 2nd place is Olivia Wildes glorious directorial debut – Booksmart.  This joyous, hilarious and utterly original coming of age story is spearheaded by stellar performances by its two leads.  But it’s the way the film manages to use its often absurd humour to elevate its very sincere reflection of growing up in today’s day and age that really set this film apart.  Booksmart continues the trend of unique, smart coming of age stories where young love is not the focus.  Instead, it simply heroes its two smart and strong female leads and showcases that there’s no one more important than your best friend.

And so we come to my favourite film of the year – although, favourite is probably not the best word to use given how uncomfortable I found this film to watch.   But it’s precisely that discomfort that elevates this harrowing and heartbreaking film to my number one spot.  That film:  Hotel Mumbai.

I understand that putting a dramatized version of a horrifying real-life event at the top of my list may seem odd – and for many reviewers, this movie felt exploitative. But I couldn’t disagree more.  For me, Hotel Mumbai deftly balances the fears and bravery of its protagonists with a dismaying reflection of the motivations (or often lack there of) of the terrorists.  Add to that some social commentary on the political failures that made the tragedy far worse, and you have an uncomfortable to watch, but ultimately poignant reflection of just one of recent history’s most horrifying incidents, and my number 1 film of 2019.

Now, to avoid ending this recap of 2019 on such a dire note, I should point out that there are a large number of additional films I feel should be included in this list including Roma and The Irishman.  However – given I don’t review movies I see outside of cinemas (how can I honestly review a film I watch on a plane the same way I do on a giant immersive screen), I’ve intentionally left these off the list.  Likewise, there’s a number of films I missed this year – including the well-reviewed Parasite, and the latest from the genius that is Taikia Waititi – Jojo Rabbit – that I feel would likely have been quite high up in my rankings had I seen them in cinemas earlier in the year.   Although, given Once Upon A Time In Hollywood was my least favourite film – and yet it just walked away with a Best Picture award at the Golden Globes – then perhaps not.  Which is probably why I shouldn’t give up my day job.  Call me old fashioned, but I like my movies to have a plot.  And a point.

But for now, that’s a wrap on 2019.  Lets home this new decade brings with it more reasons to return to a cinema near you.  See you next year!