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mistresspotterhead · 3 years ago

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The American Ymbryne- Chap. 1

Alma Peregrine x fem!reader

Warnings: Yelling, slamming hands on a table, being outed (kind of)

Words: 1,900 on the dot

A/N: Wow, this took a lil bit. Alma doesn’t appear until the very end of this chapter, but she’ll be in the next one a lot. Everyone has been so kind, and that has helped a lot <3. Also: Miss Saker indicates the type of bird you are, not your given name. I hope you guys like this. 😊😊😊

Tags: @itsonlydana @evil-feather @merci-bitch @multimilfs @escapetodreamworld @gay-and-sad-tm @multifandomfix @romanottsmaximoff @n0thing-is-real-exe @theaudreymere

(ask if you want to be added/removed)

In a strange way, Cairnholm reminded you of the Chicago loop you and your wards had just fled from. They were both very dreary, cold, and, from what you could tell from those on the ferry, the people would rather be anywhere else.

“M-miss Saker? I’m cold.” The bundle of talking coats shivered next to you.

“I know, Astrid. We’re almost there, though.” You sighed and looked out toward the slowly approaching coastline. Your surviving children, Elina, Alexander, Leonard, and, of course, Astrid, all huddled closer to you. You stared at Cairnholm for a while longer, until the ferryman’s voice suddenly called out.

“Alright everyone, ‘ere we are! The… lovely… Cairnholm!” He steered the small ferry over to the somehow smaller docks, and you led your children out.

“Is everyone here? Astrid, Leo, Elina, Alex?” David, Beth-Anne, Lisa, Frankie, June, Stefanie, Josef, Alice, Rosie, Reggie. You suppressed the urge to call out their names as well.

“Yes, Miss Saker,” they called in long-suffering voices- you were very adamant about attendance. It was good to see something was normal.

“All right then. Leo, can you see where the loop is? And Alex, are there any other peculiars near?” Ah yes, your diviners. It was very lucky for all of you that they were two of those that survived the wight’s invasion of your loop.

Your Chicago loop near the Art Institute was one of the last surviving loops in America maintained by an Ymbryne, along with your South Side, McKinley Park, and St. Louis loops, though the latter was run mainly by its older wards and reset once a week.

As of a fortnight ago, though, the Art Institute loop was the only one you had. McKinley Park was attacked by Wights and Hollows in December, with South Side following close in early January. Samuel, the sole survivor of McKinley Park, was what Syndrygasti call a Librarian. He could see hollows and alerted you to them when you were traveling to St. Louis for reset. The problem with this, though, was that Sammy was only five years old, and so frequently got distracted.

It wasn’t hard to understand- Illinois in 1975 was very colorful. Sammy was gone now, though, as were all most all of your children. Speaking of…

“There aren’t any other peculiars on the island, Miss Saker- at least not in this time,” Alex said, startling you out of your thoughts.

“Thank you, dear. How are you faring, Leo? Have you located the loop? I don’t like being out in the open for this long.” For emphasis, Elina gave a giant, chattering shiver that was surely exaggerated.

“Indeed, but it is on the other side of the island, and the night is fast approaching.”

You looked over and scowled at the sun; if you couldn’t get rest, then why was it allowed to?

“Well then. It looks like we’ll have to go into town.” Immediately, protests arose.

“Aw, no!”

“Come on, Miss Saker! We can make camp out here!”

“Because that sounds comfortable,” Leo deadpanned to Astrid.

“Well, it’s better than town! There probably isn’t even a hotel!”

“Actually, Astrid, that’s where you’re wrong.” Astrid looked shocked at the suggestion that she could ever be incorrect at something. “There is a hotel. It’s called the….” You took out the crumpled guidebook the ferryman had given to each tourist. “Preist Hole. What kind of hotel is called the Priest Hole?” You muttered that last part to yourself. “Anyway, off we go. Come along, single file now.”

Your ducklings dutifully arranged themselves from youngest to oldest, seven-year-old Elina closest to you and sixteen-year-old Leo at the back.

You hoped that the food was at least good.

Nope. Everything on the Preist Hole’s menu was covered with vinegar. You wondered if that was a Welsh thing or a Cairnholm thing. Maybe the owner just liked vinegar. Next to you, Elina was grimacing with every bite. On a whim, you decided to flag the bartender down.

“Hey, Kev, was it?” He grinned widely at you. You gave him a small smile in return.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s me. What can I do for you ‘n yer bunch today?”

“I was just wondering if you had some fries- sorry, chips- with less vinegar. My youngest is still picky.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ll talk to Arnie ‘n see what he can whip up fer ye. He’s the cook, ye see.”

“Thank you so much, sir.” You attempted a bigger smile, but it still felt forced.

“Naw, it ain’t a problem, really. ‘N please, call me Kev. Sir sounds like I’m fifty- ‘n I’ve still got twenty years ‘fore that,” he chuckled.

“Well then, you must call me y/n.”

“Of course, ma’am- y/n, sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s alright, Kev.” This time, your smile was a small bit genuine- his hesitancy was endearing.

“Yeh. Well, um, I’d better talk teh Arnie now. I’ve kinda been lingering here for a while.”

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to keep you from work, anyway.”

“I mean, I wouldn’t object if yeh did,” Kev concluded, winking before walking away.

Once he was out of earshot, Astrid started chittering.

“Ooh, was that flirting I saw, Miss Saker?” You rolled your eyes, and Alex guffawed into his water.

“Miss Saker? Flirt with a guy? I think Elina would drink an entire bottle of vinegar before that happened.” You turned your head sharply in his direction, but not before Astrid snapped back at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You jerk your head toward her now.

“Well, Miss Saker isn’t really the type to, ah, dabble in the male gene pool.” It was like you were watching tennis, really, with all this head-turning.

“That doesn’t make any-”

“ENOUGH!” You stood up, placing your hands on the bar. “This is not a discussion we are having, especially not here and now. Alex, I told you that information in confidence, and I am severely disappointed that you have betrayed that. Astrid, whether or not I am flirting with someone, and really my love life in general, is none of your concern. Do you both understand?”

They nodded, Alex looking especially ashamed of himself.

“Sorry, Miss Saker. It just slipped out.”

You sighed and ignored all the stares you and your wards were getting because of your outburst.

“Alright, Alex. Just… you can’t share things that people tell you privately.”

“Yes, Miss Saker.” He was quiet after that, poking at his food.

It bothered you that he had shared that information, though it didn’t seem as if the other wards had understood. Of course, Leo was the only one you would expect to, as he was sixteen, but he had been sheltered in your loop his entire life. All of your wards had, really.

Just as you were beginning to sink into your past again, Kev came out with Elina’s new plate of fr- chips.

“Here ye are, little lady. I hope you like these better.” He smiled at Elina, tugging a small one out in return. You both watched expectantly as she took a tentative bite. And another. And another. Until the plate was almost gone, and she was rubbing her stomach in contentment.

“Well, that was fast.”

“It was good, Miss Saker. I wasn’t going to let it cool.” You laughed at the disapproving look on her face.

“Alright, alright. I suppose you have a good point.” You turned to Kev. “Thank you again, sir, for-”

“Kev.”

“...right. Thank you for doing this. How much will it cost?” You were ruffled at his interruption, but he didn’t notice. He pretended to think for a moment.

“Hmm… how much will makin’ a little girl ‘n her mam happy cost? I dunno.” He smiled at you. “It’s on the house. I can see that ye haven’t had such a good day, so….”

“Really? Are you sure? I mean, I have the money….”

“I’m completely sure. It’s good te make someone happy once in a while.”

“Well, I truly do thank you. It also seems that we’ll need a room, if that’s alright?”

“Sure. Room four was just recently vacated. It’s right up here.” He led you up the stairs, the kids trailing behind.

The room was small for five people, but it seemed like a mansion to the children, who only had their old, overcrowded loop to compare it to. There were four rickety beds, though they did seem to be clean, and a barren nightstand next to each of them.

“Ah… I forgot that this only had four beds. I can get ye another room, or-”

“No, no, this is fine. Thank you for your help, Kev.” You subtly ushered him toward the door.

“Oh- well, if ye need anythi-”

“Yes, of course. Ta, then! Have a nice day!” You shut the door, leaving him very confused.

Alex was wheezing on the floor behind you.

“That… that was absolutely amazing Miss Saker! You are an absolute icon!”

What in Abaton does that mean? You never could understand the new slang terms that the 1970s held.

Elina yawned, setting off all the other children and alerting you to their needs.

“Alright then, time for bed.” Immediately, they were completely awake.

“I’m not tired at all, Miss Saker, therefore I shan’t be able to fall asleep.”

“The fact that your accent is coming out very strongly tells me that you are indeed tired, Leo.” You crossed your arms. “Bed. now.” Your wards slouched, and grudgingly picked out a bed each.

“Miss Saker, where will you sleep tonight?” Astrid asked as you were tucking her covers in.

“On the floor, of course. Now, did you remember to take off your gloves?”

“But it won’t be comfortable! The floor is so hard and cold and dirty and-”

“Your gloves, Astrid.” She was very talkative, even late at night, though you had come to enjoy it. Sometimes.

She took off the gloves that helped control her peculiarity and was about to start chattering again when Elina suddenly spoke up from her bed in the corner.

“I could make you a nest with a spare blanket, Miss Saker?” You gave her one of your very rare genuine smiles.

“That would be lovely, Elina.”

“Wait- how did she know you were going to sleep in bird form?” Alex asked, finally catching on. You smiled again at Elina and kissed her on the forehead.

“She’s made me a little nest before when I fall asleep in my study while in bird form.”

“And that happens often?”

“Surprisingly so. Now, snuggle in and no more talking.” As the children said their goodnights, you finally transformed into your bird form; a stunning saker falcon. You jumped lightly onto Elina’s bed, careful not to hurt her with your razor-sharp talons or accidentally hit her with your wing (which had happened on more than one occasion).

Though you nestled into the warm bunch of blankets right away, you didn’t fall asleep until much later, and even then, you were restless all night.

---

Little did you know, in the old manor that you would trek to the next day, a group of peculiars and one very curious ymbryne had observed all of this. Alma LeFay Peregrine set her watch and gave the children a reassuring smile while she pondered what this meant and why her stomach had fluttered when you gave that dazzling smile.

#tw yelling #tw slamming hands down #tw being outed #alma peregrine x reader #miss peregrine x reader #alma peregrine #wow im so gay for her

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sourwormsaresour · 3 years ago

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idk if anyone has talked about this but I feel like no one has pointed this out yet.

So, this fucker right here:

Do you know why he’s named “chocolate” and how this food is associated with this character?

Let’s start with how chocolate is made. The cocoa tree that produces cocoa beans and ultimately chocolate is very finicky with the environment it needs to thrive in; you need a very warm, humid climate year-round where it can also be protected from strong weather like harsh sunlight and heavy winds. That’s easily done within the rainforest where the weather is naturally maintained and surrounding trees can protect the cocoa tree from weather or in farms where these trees will be grown with other trees that will provide them with the protection they need. Alternatively, you can create a warm and humid greenhouse instead where the tree can be under constant surveillance to maintain its environment. The greenhouse approach is often seen in research to find ways of growing chocolate in other places around the world and hopefully making the approach affordable and sustainable enough to use over traditional methods.

Here’s what the lab used to cultivate cocoa trees looks like. It’s called the “International Cocoa Quarantine Centre” and is based in Britain.

Another factor in growing a cocoa tree is elevation. Ideally, you should be between 30-300 meters (about 100 to 1000 feet) above sea level or at least under 600 meters (about 2000 feet), which is considered low elevation. In general farming, lower elevations will create sweeter fruits that can ripen faster; the downsides of farming at such a level is everything being prone to rot faster, including the plants that bear the fruits themselves (specifically their roots). Farmers in low elevation need to consider factors like lower ventilation and lack of natural drainage, which can cause rotting. Because of how complicated the conditions for cocoa trees are, it can get costly to grow and maintain them. One way to alleviate the cost of maintaining cocoa trees (besides exploitation of workers and unsustainable farming) is by tree grafting. This technique is commonly used in creating more trees in general and especially common in the chocolate industry. Grafting involves simply taking parts of a tree and attaching it to a tree that is genetically similar and doing so helps grow new cocoa trees, control the quality of the cocoa beans, and reduce cost of production overall.

Here are some of the things that can happen if you don’t grow your cocoa tree properly. Unfortunately, some of these issues are unavoidable; why they happen and how to prevent them remains unknown and researchers are still trying to find answers that can explain why it happens and how to prevent or resolve them.

After years of growing and waiting for the tree to mature and produce pods, we finally have cocoa beans to harvest and make chocolate. Creating chocolate itself involves a controlled form of rotting we know too well: fermentation. Disclaimer: some say fermentation is the opposite of rotting because it prevents decay but others say fermentation is defined as a controlled form of decay while rotting is defined as uncontrolled decay. For this post, I’ll stick with the latter definition. Fermentation allows us to get stuff like alcohol, yogurt, and kimchi by breaking down items, essentially making them decay and rot, to create new items by using microorganisms like bacteria and yeast to perform the process. Before cocoa beans turn into chocolate, they need to be fermented for a certain amount of days- no more and no less than necessary. It’s not going to be like wine such that aging the product will make the quality better. Over-fermenting leads to a waste product that’s just completely rotten, moldy, and just unusable in the end. And like any type of fruit, the cocoa pod will ultimately ripen and rot after it falls off the tree if it’s not used over time. Improper fermentation will also cause mold to occur, causing the beans to rot than ferment. Mold can also be caused by moisture coming in contact with the beans. Unlike cheese or meats, the mold on cocoa beans can cause long-term health issues if consumed. What we end up getting after fermenting, roasting, and grinding the beans is a pure cocoa paste or “pure chocolate.” Once the chocolate is made, it cannot get moldy; it can develop a mold-like appearance called bloom but that’s safe to eat and technically not mold. However, if you separate the cocoa powder from the paste, that can mold if it comes in contact with water.

Look at how moldy these cocoa beans can get:

Pure chocolate has health benefits like providing antioxidants, being a major ingredient in skincare as cocoa butter, and reduce health issues. However, the chocolate we’re all used to eating is some cocoa paste with added ingredients (milk, nuts, fillings, etc.), and these ingredients are the things that end up turning chocolate into unhealthy food. You can eat pure cocoa paste, but it wouldn’t be defined as chocolate and it won’t be as tasty; even bars labeled "70% cacao" have added ingredients to it. One particular ingredient in chocolate that is a great example of how it makes chocolate unhealthy is processed sugar. Sugar itself has addicting properties and is unhealthy for many reasons, yet it’s a huge part of why we love to eat chocolate. It’s also why we have to eat chocolate with added ingredients in small quantities despite the health benefits chocolate has- the benefits and the downsides cancel each other out (i.e. pure chocolate prevents tooth decay but sugar causes tooth decay, chocolate lowers blood pressure yet sugar contributes to health issues that can cause higher blood pressure). The development of chocolate as a sweet candy in today’s world rather than a healthy ingredient also plays into this.

Based on this info, we can see how chocolate shaped Cioccolata as a character and his Stand’s abilities. The mold and rot aspect of Green Day is easily explained with the fermentation process and how the process of chocolate is susceptible to mold up throughout. Green Day’s functionality working only when victims are underneath Cioccolata is because cocoa trees require lower elevations to thrive and how lower elevation increases chances of rot in produce. The constant surveillance and maintenance of cocoa trees in a laboratory setting can reference Cioccolata finding pleasure in recording his victims’ misery, his “research” in torturing their bodies, as well as the intense and detailed work that comes with studying and practicing medicine. The tree grafting in the chocolate industry connects to Green Day’s second ability that allows it to dismember and reassemble Cioccolata with mold. It also connects to Ciccolata’s sadistic nature when it comes to manipulating his victims’ bodies and the brutality of his Stand’s mold being able to break people’s limbs apart (think Sorbet’s 36 frames, Gelato’s possible taxidermy when he was discovered by Formaggio, and how bodies affected are easily snapped apart when mold gets on them). The dichotomy of chocolate as healthy food and junk food also relates to Cioccolata as a character who should have been good (because he’s a doctor) but does more harm instead. The role of sugar in chocolate plays into that as well, but it’s especially related to how sugar cubes are used to control Secco and Cioccolata full name in JORGE JOESTAR is Dolcio Cioccolata (literally “sweet chocolate”). Hell, I can go on about how Secco’s name has a connection to chocolate too.

I’ve seen how characters in VA are shaped by the food they’re named after, down to their Stand abilities, so it’s nice to see that Cioccolata follows this too. Let me know if you guys have other information that can add to Cioccolata’s characterization. :)

Btw this is based on some Googling I did, which involved reading a few papers that came up on search and a Chocolate tour that I did when I was in Guatemala last month, so please let me know if the information is incorrect or add with your findings to correct it.

#JJBA #JoJos Bizzare Adventure #Vento Aureo #jjba vento auero #Golden Wind #cioccolata jjba #cioccolata jojo #cioccolato #chocolate #naming conventions #secco #secco jojo #secco jjba #jorge joestar novel

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kitsu-katsu · 3 years ago

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About revived (by Derivakat)

(Disclaimer: Nothing against Derivakat, I think her songs are amazing in general and she's very talented, I simply have a bone to pick with these lyrics and characterization)

So um, here's my counter to some of the lyrics because fuck it, I'm tired and fueled by spite, let's go:

Let's start with the chorus:

"White streak in my hair but no stress now" - Funnily incorrect, cc!Wilbur confirmed that the white hair is from stress itself, it's not about the revival process alone. Also just by reasoning, I cannot imagine what might have been stressful about spiralling and believing that the world is out to crush you, believing that you're the scum of the Earth as well, only to die, spend 13 and half years in dark isolation and then being jolted back up to life missing huge chunks of information, really cannot fathom how that might be stressful /s

"I've seen hell, but this is a bit more my style" - True you know? It's awesome that he's said that he's over the moon about being alive again after spending 13 and a half years of pure isolation in the dark, screming until his throat was hoarse. But coming from the tone of it, I'd like to point out that Wilbur's also still passively suicidal and self harms (check out the part under "He doesn't love TNT, he self-harms with it" in this post)

"A decade of time to make everything mine" (also counts for "This is my sunrise, this is my dawn, this is what I've waited for all along. All of this time, all this is mine. MINE. MINE. MINE!")- Honestly, based on what he's been doing, no prejudices, forget everything fandom's said: he doesn't really seem to want to "make everything his", does he? This perception mostly comes from him saying "This is my sunrise, this is mine!" in the original revival stream, however, if you forget about common fandom perception, what's so evilly framed about a guy who spent 13 and a half years of isolation in the dark saying "this is my sunrise!" after watching the sun coming up again for the first time since his death, in which he was extremely emotionally unstable? Like for real?

Now onto the verses:

"Am I the bad guy? I'll be the bad guy again" and "I've come back hell-bent" - Now, he has said that: “Here’s the thing, Tommy. I, I, I, I know I was bad, and I know I can redeem myself, but like, you know, there’s a little bit of fun in being bad, you know, we’ve spoken about this.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 11:31, 5th May), BUT, since then he's also expressed genuine remorse for his worse actions during Pogtopia (check out the parts under "He really regrets what happened in Pogtopia" and "Wilbur cares. A LOT" in this post), a wanting to redeem himself and truly become better and... uh... OH! He's also admitted that he's afraid he scares people and cried when Ranboo said that he was "an alright person". For real, just watch the Healthy Competition stream and read this reddit post by cc!Wilbur

The reddit post in question, just in case:

"You think I cared? It was always a means to an end" - So false. Just... so false. Ok, so quick one, let's review the actual lines said originally about him "not caring for L'manburg" in full:

“Uh, one thing, I didn’t actually really care about L'Manberg, I just cared about, you know, sticking it to the man. Actually, I cared about L'Manberg for the sole reason that I could use it to stick it to the man.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 24:18, 5th May)

“Look, I- Okay, I said it wrong. Look, I did care about- I did care about L'Manberg, but I cared about it for- You would call it the wrong reasons, but I, I- Just don’t think about it, don’t think about it too hard. Look, L'Manberg’s gone now, we’ve got that, you know- That, that wart on my side is gone, you know. I salute it, I salute it, you know, it was a great- It was a great place.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 25:18, 5th May)

“Look, Tommy, I’m gonna reiterate for you once more because I don’t think you quite understood, and that’s okay, you know, you don’t need to understand everything. I did care about L'Manberg. I did, I did. A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet, Tommy. L'Manberg would have been as loved by me had it been called Bimbum and was built in the middle of the desert.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 26:05, 5th May)

“The actual location, and the actual things it was, it were, were not important to me. It’s the thing it stood for. Which was freedom, liberty, and sticking it to the man, Tommy!” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 26:26, 5th May)

“We were a family, Tommy. We were…” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 27:26, 5th May)

So as you may see, he retracts himself immediately and explains his feelings with more nuance

Then, let's look at the more recent confession to Ranboo:

“I told Tommy that I didn’t actually care about L'Manberg, and that it was just like a tool for me to use to gain like, you know, power and stuff. But it’s not, it’s not true.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 26:36, 3rd Aug)

“L'Manberg is- was really important to me. And it is still to this day.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 26:47, 3rd Aug)

“I want it to, em, I want its history to live on not as a stain caused by me, you know. I basically just took a big shit on the history books, it feels like. I wanna, I wanna make it, I wanna make it feel like it was, you know, it was something that happened. You know, it was a great thing, you know, think of the good times. The- The years of safety. Well, not years, but you know.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 26:47, 3rd Aug)

If this got more explicit I'd be literally hitting you over the head with it. Anyway, check out the parts under "Wilbur cared. A LOT" and "He really cared and cares about L'Manburg, and didn't want its ideals twisted to hur others with" in this post

"So who cares? So what? I'm not calming down" and "Shut up! And listen" - “Tommy, shut up! I mean, Tommy, come over here. Tommy, come over here, come over here, man. It’s cool, it’s cool, it’s cool. Sorry, I, I-” (Alivebur)

– (Wilbur’s A Deck of Cards with a Green Smile on them: 26:08, 31st May)

That line's totality gets often cut down, erasing the immediate apology after the loss of cool. Furthermore, I'd argue that him "not calming down" in general is mainly due to his euphoria and overexcitement during certain scenes where it makes complete sense for him to be feeling like that, and in a broader sense, he has a tendency to say things in the heat of the moment and out of impulsivity that he turns to later regret from all the way back at Pogtopia. Him not calming down now is either out of impulsivity or outright euphoria to be out of limbo, not necessarily an evil thing. And when he percieves he should calm down, he tries his best to do it, or apologizes for snapping

“I’m sorry I wasn’t, you know, entirely on the same page. But, man, I promise you, I’ve calmed down, you know, I’m all, I’m all settled in. I understand, you know, what’s changed, what hasn’t, who’s new, who’s old, you know, who’s still about, you know, who… Who, uh… uh… Who trusts me and stuff.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 15:04, 3rd Aug)

“I relived that explosion in my head so many times man. And, and, and I- I get that you don’t, you don’t trust me, I do, but like, man, look at me, bro, I’m not gonna do it again. I’m not gonna- I’m not gonna hurt you again.” - (Wilbur’s A Year Later: 21:21, 3rd Aug)

(Check out the parts under "Wilbur cares. A LOT", "Paranoia and distrustfulness are integral parts of his character", "Self-loathing and self-sabotage are also integral parts of his character", "He hesitated regarding the button tons of times" and "He feels inhuman. He knows that people see him as a freak, evil or crazy and that makes him feel dehumanized" in this post)

"There's nothing wrong with me" - BUDDY. Wilbur drowns in self-hatred, what are you talking about? The man got caught off guard and cried when someone said "you're an alright person"... He's worried that he scares people, he knows how others see him on top of his own self-hatred

“TommyInnit, as you know, is just, he thinks I’m insane. I’m not insane, chat, I’m not insane.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 4:30, 16th Oct)

“See, I’m not so crazy, Tommy. I know what I’m doing.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 16:40, 16th Oct)

“I’ve told you, I’m not crazy, Tommy. I know what I’m doing, and this is genuinely the best thing we could do right now.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 17:18, 16th Oct)

“I’m not crazy! How am I crazy?!” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 43:18, 17th Oct)

“Everyone I seem to meet has this deep intrisnic feeling of disgust towards me. Jack Manifold seemed to be quite nice to me, but I reckon he, I could feel it, you know, in his stare. But like, you don’t have that. I can tell you’re a good guy.” - (Wilbur’s resurrected gentleman of L'manburg: 30:24, 5th May)

“Quackity, I’ve, I’ve, I’ve, I’ll be honest you with you, I’ve lost everything, man. I, um. I’ve lost decades of my life. I’ve lost my- most of the people who cared about me. Some people don’t even know I’m back yet, and I, and I think that’s probably for the best. So I feel like that does humble a man. That really humbles a man, you know?” – (Wilbur’s A Deck of Cards with a Green Smile on them: 1:00:52, 31st May)

“Listen, Phil, I met, I met Quackity. After you very kindly lent me your house. I went and met him. Yeah! I met up with him, and I hadn’t seen him in ages. It was, I’m gonna say it, it was nice. It was a nice time. I- I- It felt good, it felt, uh, you know, he didn’t, he didn’t seem afraid of me, which is cool.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 7:38, 25th July)

“Not many people do. I mean, Phil, you don’t seem afraid of me, you’re not afraid of me, are you, Phil?” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 8:03, 25th July)

“Good, good. 'Cause I’m not afraid of you.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 8:10, 25th July)

“Why? Why? … No, no, no, no, no, not the, not the bit about the, not the bit about the right foot, the why don’t you think I’m a bad person?” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 35:13, 25th July)

“Can I be real with you, man? I think I scare people.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:30, 25th July)

“I mean, like I, I, I, I don’t think I, I- I think a lot of people share your idea, but they share your idea in trying to- trying to keep me from hurting them, you know? Like they’ve seen what I can do, and they don’t want me to do it again, so they adopt your emotion in order to do it.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 36:46, 25th July)

“Dream is- He’s had his comeuppance, and I have not! My comeuppance was apparently not good enough for this people. They’re just waiting, they’re waiting for the next thing for me to slip up on, and, Ranboo, I’m not gonna fucking slip up, Ranboo. I’m different.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:07, 25th July)

“I’m living in eternal limbo, again. I’ve been through limbo, I’m out of limbo, and socially, I’m still in this limbo.” - (Wilbur’s Healthy Competition: 38:36, 25th July)

(Check out the parts under "He feels inhuman. He knows that people see him as a freak, evil or crazy and that makes him feel dehumanized", "Paranoia and distrustfulness are integral parts of his character" and "Self-loathing and self-sabotage are also integral parts of his character" in this post)

"Oh yes, I blew up the nation!" (said with glee) - I make a point of the tone in this specific line, because I could make a point of the tone in the whole song, but this line is a good example. He didn't blow up L'manburg just with glee like "hell yeah! I did it!". Of course he talks about it with pride sometimes, but it's usually either said in the middle of the same impulsive moments in which he'd claim he doesn't care, said with relief of him having control over at least that situation (like him sighing right after doing it just to ask Phil to finish it off by killing him), or said with the same deflection with which he'd claim that not having a grave didn't affect him and was badass actually since he only wanted it for the hateful obituaries anyway (which was a lie, and he admitted it on the third of august stream when saying "I was so pressed about not having a grave" in case you had doubts)

Finally, I want to make emphasis on the fact that: The explosion on the 16th had two main drives behind it and they often get glossed over. The first objectivee was blowing it up and causing just enough destruction to get L'manburg back (You know, when Wilbur still had some kind of hope). After his spiral went further and his paranoia and self-loathing worsened, his two drives become apparent: First was blowing it up to rid the world of the twisted thing L'manburg became, ridding the world of what the twisted version of his ideals became with Schlatt in control of them. Secondly, he wanted to end L'manburg as a part of himself and rid the world of himself completely (by this I'm referencing his suicide), he decided he wanted to die and expected that as a result since a lot of time before the 16th. The explosion was effectively a bigger projection of his suicide, rid the world of both himself and his creation, mixed with his constant desire to protect, it also becomes "rid the world of the corrupted version of L'manburg that became Manburg", because for all intents and purposes, since the important thing about L'manburg was its founding ideals, L'manburg had been dead for a long time at that point.

“Yesterday I had the perfect opportunity to blow everything up and finally end it, you know. I had the perfect opportunity to finally blow up everything and end it and just completely save everyone, right, from the tyranny of Schlatt and the tyranny of the existence of Manberg and L’Manberg, right.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 25:17, 17th Oct)

“Explain it to me! Give me a reason! Give me a reason!” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 26:50, 17th Oct)

“Who else is it gonna hurt?! It’s gonna hurt Schlatt, Manberg, and-” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 26:55, 17th Oct)

“Why did I bring- I should have just done it. I’m such a fucking showman. I should have just done it.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:18, 17th Oct)

“No you two can escape, I’ll be the… I’ll- I’ll- I’ll be… I’ll be trapped in here…” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 27:27, 17th Oct)

“I just- I just want to f… I just wanna end it, I wanna end it. I wanna press that button, man.” - (Wilbur’s Speedy Stream Festival What festival: 28:08, 17th Oct)

(Check out the parts under "Wilbur cares. A LOT", "Paranoia and distrustfulness are integral parts of his character", "Self-loathing and self-sabotage are also integral parts of his character", "He hesitated regarding the button tons of times", "He really cared and cares about L'Manburg, and didn't want its ideals twisted to hur others with", and "He really regrets what happened in Pogtopia" in this post)

#tw self harm mention #tw suicide mention #wilbur #wilbur soot #c!wilbur #wilbur dsmp #revived #revivedbur #alivebur #revived wilbur #derivakat revived #fandom critical #dsmp #dream smp #analysis #c!wilbur analysis

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blueink2k · 3 years ago

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Propaganda in Death Note and How It Played Into Light’s God Complex

[This is based on information from the anime, as I have yet to read the manga for myself. Caps from or references to the manga may be included to emphasize points or provide visuals, but the version of the plot I'm referring to is taken from the anime.]

Light Yagami does not pick up the Death Note knowing he’s going to use it to commit mass murder and become the God of his New World.

Actually, he does the opposite. He kills someone to test it as he’s under the impression it isn’t real, convinces himself it was a freak coincidence, and decides to try it out in a way that will provide a more concrete conclusion. When it does end up working he’s stunned, to say the least.

“I killed them both...I killed two men. Those were human lives. I-It won’t be overlooked. Besides, who am I to pass judgment on others?”

Light Yagami, the perfect, straight-A, model student, has just confirmed he killed two people using some strange supernatural notebook that just happened to fall into his hands. He’s always believed strongly in his morals. He’s been on course his whole life to join the police force like his father an deliver justice, and here he is, an indirect murderer.

So what does he do about it?

...He comes up with a reason to justify himself.

The people he killed were criminals. Mere scum who do nothing but rot and infect the world. Wouldn’t everyone be better off without them? It isn’t that he’s never considered this before, he has, albeit not to the same degree as taking their deaths into his own hands. But now that he has the power to do so, why shouldn’t he? He’s smart, he’s determined. He’s capable of it.

In fact, in his mind, he’s the only one who is.

He’s kind of right. He’s the top of his class, he comes out on top in national tests, he barely even has to try. Plus, he’s the only one that has a Death Note, and therefore the power to do this.

At this point in time, he doesn’t consider himself a god. He doesn’t want to rule the world, he just wants to change it. Something else important to note is that he doesn’t refer to himself as Kira or anything other than Light.

...That is, until...

Websites start popping up all over claiming that whoever this mass murderer is is named “Kira”, a god among men risen to punish criminals and save the world.

Two things to note here;

Apparently, “Kira” is returning, meaning there must have been some kind of previous belief in an entity that either did something similar to Light or had the same beliefs. There isn’t any other canon mention of a previous Kira, and this in and of itself is pretty vague, but given that there’s tons of religions in real life that have never had a big breakthrough, it’s reasonable to believe this could be something similar. That, or a creepypasta. Or a cult.

Light created this understanding that he had to be the one to change the world to cope with his murders. Actually - that might be the worst way to put it, since we know how strongly he feels about justice and being given an outlet to carry out this wish of world peace just enhanced this, but nonetheless... It’s impossible to assume he’s doing all of this without even a speck of guilt. Therefore, this is the first hint of appreciation or even just acknowledgement that what he’s doing is right.

Disregarding the first point (as interesting as I find it), this is really the first time Light is ever told what he’s doing is good. His own father - who he idolizes -considers Kira evil. His sister flat out says she hates him. Of course, this is all after Kira actually does become popular, but still, all he receives from that point on is disapproval from the people he cares the most about. The online love for Kira is all he has.

So, yeah, he probably internalizes it.

He thinks he’s doing the right thing. He thinks he’s giving others justice. He thinks he’s the only one who can do this. Others agreeing is only enhancing this. They’re the ones who call him God.

As the story progresses, Kira’s power and popularity grows. He gains direct news coverage, people begin sending him names of people to kill, his following grows. So much so, that when someone gets a Death Note and figures out that must be what he’s using, their immediate response is to find a way to contact him.

Cue Misa Amane and Sakura TV.

Sakura TV is a news program known for its unreliability. Demegawa, the director, even says he’s willing to make things up for publicity. And that’s when the Second Kira tapes arrive.

This, however, is only the first encounter with Sakura TV.

After this, the only direct involvement the police has with it is in the Yotsuba arc, when it’s used to lure out Higuchi. Otherwise the program promotes Kira all on its own, even going so far as to create Kira’s Kingdom - half a scam for viewers’ money, half a way to get more people to see Kira as God. And it works. He gains a following of people who believe he will create a new, better world, and will even give themselves up to help him.

An example of this following is when a mob of followers attacks the SPK under Kira’s orders. They’re so quick to join in, and are even willing to put their names and faces on TV in trust that Kira will not kill them.

All of this publicity sparks fear in the general public. People begin fearing that if they do something wrong Kira will kill them, causing crime rates to drop nearly 70% over Kira’s 6 year reign, as well as completely stopping wars.

Demegawa is eventually killed. Other news programs begin scrambling to claim the voice of Kira, topped by NHN, where we are reintroduced to Kiyomi Takada as Kira’s spokeswoman as well as one of his greatest supporters.

Light, as much as he hates Sakura TV and NHN’s depictions of Kira, uses them to his advantage as much as he can.

But really, imagine what this is all doing to him.

At the beginning, he struggled with grasping what he was doing as right. His sense of justice, righteousness, and perfectness shattered by a single notebook. But this is perfect, he figures that if he really wants to fix the world, this is one surefire way to do it. And yeah, his family hates Kira, but online he’s worshiped as God. We already know he has a pretty decent ego, and all of this is doing nothing but fueling it.

To top it all off, as he continues with his killings, his following grows. More and more people begin to support him, every single day there’s news stations upon news stations covering his story, some negative, some positive. People from all over express admiration towards him, even the President of the United States sides with him. He is literally worshiped as Kira, as God.

This all makes it sounds like his god complex starts later in the series, so to clarify; no, he does not pick up the book with plans to become God, but the second people start fueling his ego, the more twisted his ideals and motivations become. He’s the only one who can fix this rotten world. He holds the power of a god in his hands, he does what only a god can do, and everyone treats him accordingly. He is Kira, he is God.

Between websites, news programs, and his cult-like following, Light had enough attention to feed into his ego for a lifetime. He was perfect pre-Death Note. Smart, charming, set for success. There never was a time where he was particularly not narcissistic, it was just that he only felt this way inside of himself. The way he presented to others? A perfect, cool guy persona with an - in all honesty - annoying prickly jerk hiding inside. But no one ever knew this, he never let them know, and because he was always naturally successful it was more of an expectation he just met rather than surpassed, so he wasn’t consistently praised and this incredible self-esteem wasn’t propped up by anyone but himself.

To cycle back to the title of this rant-essay-analysis-whatever you’d like to call it, I want to share some examples about exactly why I even classify this news coverage and whatnot of Kira as propaganda.

Kira’s supporters cause a riot at SPK HQ under Kira’s orders and Demegawa’s direction.

Mikami providing his insight as to why he supports Kira on television, openly promoting Kira and encouraging others to join him.

Takada announces her new role as Kira’s spokesperson on NHN.

Mikami uses his power as Kira to kill members of Kira’s Kingdom, supposed followers of Kira who have been using his publicity to gain money and attention.

Most of this doesn’t exactly look like your standard propaganda posters or news story, but it does fit the overall criteria;

Information from a biased viewpoint used to promote/publicize a certain view (accepting Kira as God)

Shows exclusively positive views on Kira

Assigns Kira positive adjectives and makes him appear as good (God, savior, messenger from Hell), never considering or showing the bad

Presenting only positive statistics (Light does this in his monologue where he brings up the 70% crime rate drop, and given there’s no way he could have calculated this on his own he likely got it from one of these media sources. Not that it’s incorrect, per se, but he does fail to mention how many innocent people he’s killed in order to do this.)

Appeals to regular, everyday people by talking about how he’s doing this for the betterment of the whole world. People who are directly affected by crime are also likely positively impacted by this.

Initiates and spreads fear by explaining how Kira only attacks those who do wrong.

In the end, Light’s personal descent into his god complex, as well as his effects on the world can be attributed to many things, but it would be a crime to ignore just how big of a role news and other types of media played in this without his direct input. To think, if Light had won and overtaken the police like he was going to, he’d have absolutely no problem stepping into his shoes as God. Everyone else already set the stage, he just had to get there first.

This is my first Death Note analysis, so please excuse any errors, I just watched the anime for the first time and am doing my best to piece together all of the plot and especially Light’s deep characterization the best I can. If I ever read the manga or find something new, chances are this will be updated. But as for now, it’s finally finished after a week or so of procrastinating. Thank you for reading if you got this far! <3

#death note #light yagami #kira #analysis #anime analysis #rant #essay #hitoshi demegawa #do people even care enough about him to have a tag #💀#death note anime #teru mikami #kiyomi takada #yagami light #mikami teru #takada kiyomi #long post #meta

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sedge-yells-at-comics · 3 years ago

Link

Reprinted below, in case the link implodes.

Flash #27 Reveals Why Reverse Flash Is a Truly Unique Villain

The finale of "Running Scared" provides a gut-wrenching Rebirth update to one of DC's most complicated villains: Eobard Thawne, the Reverse Flash.

By Meg Downey Published Jul 27, 2017

If you’re a fan of the Flash, you’re probably pretty familiar with the concept of the Reverse Flash, a man named Eobard Thawne who, like Barry, has super speed and wears a flashy costume. Of course, the “Reverse” might sound like he’s the literal opposite of the Flash -- maybe someone who slows things down instead of speeding himself up? Or maybe someone who runs backwards?

There are a lot of obvious and incorrect guesses pretty readily available for casual or newer fans to throw darts at. The reality of the Reverse Flash is, however, pretty complicated. Mostly because his “reverse” status is actually ideological at its core. Flash media, be it print, animated or live action, has traditionally made this apparent by painting Eobard as someone who is essentially pure evil -- a sort of manic, time traveling serial killer who is motivated solely by his endless need to destroy Barry Allen from the ground up.

At that point, the problem then becomes finding a way to make Thawne’s homicidal drive, well… unique in the scope of the DC Universe, a place that just so happens to be populated by enough over-the-top villains to populate a decent sized Midwestern town. Why is Reverse Flash someone that’s specific to The Flash? What differentiates him from any of DC’s other iconic arch rivals, like Lex Luthor or The Joker?

Well, The Flash #27 has the answer, and it's probably not the one you expected.

Running Scared

The rebirth of the “classic” Eobard Thawne (as opposed to his New 52 revamp) began in the Flash/Batman crossover mini-event “The Button” back in April, a four-part storyline which connected the original Thawne to the events of last year’s DC Universe: Rebirth one-shot.

Since, then, Thawne’s taken up residence as a perpetual thorn in Barry’s side in the hero's own ongoing series, stepping directly into the spotlight for the three-part “Running Scared” arc which served to highlight Thawne’s Rebirth status quo. For the most part, it’s a story that fans will be pretty familiar with, borrowing heavily from elements of stories like The Flash: Rebirth and Flashpoint. Thawne’s from the future, he time traveled to kill Barry’s parents, he’s connected to a negative form of the Speed-Force, and so on -- But that’s where things start to get their Rebirth-specific legs.

It’s not that creators Josh Williamson, Howard Porter and Paul Pelletier are trying to reinvent the proverbial wheel with “Running Scared” -- just unlock a different side of it by shining a light on one of the most unique aspect of Eobard and Barry’s relationship.

Reverse Flash doesn’t hate Flash the way Lex Luthor hates Superman, or Bane hates Batman. It’s actually (appropriately) quite the opposite. It’s the reverse. Eobard Thawne loves Barry Allen, obsessively and vengefully, which is where his endless, destructive need to ruin Barry’s life comes into play.

“Running Scared” highlights the fact that a young Eobard grew up alone (though Williamson was quick to confirm that that particular story element came out of an earlier Geoff Johns Flash issue) with only his idealized and imaginary version of Barry -- a character from his history books -- to keep him company. Barry was, for all intents and purposes, Thawne’s only friend, confidant, and emotional anchor, despite the fact that the two of them wouldn’t actually meet for years and years.

It was plenty of time for a very troubled and very lonely Thawne to fall in love with a version of The Scarlet Speedster that existed only in his imagination...and, well, it’s pretty obvious how that particular emotional endeavor actually went down. Actually meeting Barry and subsequently being forced to deal with the fact that he was just a guy and not the cartoon character Thawne had built in his head for years, proved to be too hard a stress test for Thawne’s fragile psyche.

Fatal Attraction

Meeting and being disappointed by a personal hero is a rough experience for just about anyone, but rather than allowing himself to move on -- or even allowing himself to simply decide to hate Barry instead, Thawne’s obsession only doubled down.

As issue #27 hurtles to its conclusion, Thawne’s real motivations become abundantly apparent. As Barry, infected with Thawne’s own inverted Negative Speed Force thrashes Thawne within an inch of his life, he presses him with a question - Why, if Thawne has always been so inspired by him, has he gone out of his way to ruin Barry’s life at every turn? Why has he done all of these terrible things, from killing Barry’s parents to beating Wally within an inch of his life, to kidnapping he and Iris and hauling them to the future?

Thawne’s answer is as unexpected as it is heartrendingly honest: because these horrible things are the only way Thawne understands how to make Barry spend time with him.

It’s that simple.

Thawne’s love for, and obsession with Barry Allen has permeated his life so deeply and completely that he is even willing to count his time spent being pummeled half to death by Flash as a win. He’s completely unable or unwilling to differentiate between Barry’s affection and Barry’s hatred, and he’s ready to do whatever it might take to put himself at the center of either emotion in Barry’s mind.

“A few years ago, it would have really hurt my feelings to hear you say that,” Thawne taunts after Barry threatens him, “but now to think that I caused you that anger? That I could get under your skin like this? It warms my heart.”

It’s deeply troubling, of course, and horrifyingly uncomfortable to get a look into the head of a villain who is, essentially, the personification of a fan gone terribly, terribly awry -- a theme that only gets more difficult to swallow when you begin to think about the increasingly complicated relationship between fans and their idols in actual, genuine, non-super heroic world around us.

This subtle reworking of the Reverse Flash has made him one of comic’s most poignant ruminations of the idea of toxicity in fan communities, idolization of strangers, and self destructive obsession, and it did so in a way that boldly allowed Thawne to win at the end of the day.

The issue closes, and the arc completes, with Barry exactly in the position Thawne wanted him in: completely alone, just like Thawne was as he built Barry into a hero of mythological perfection in his head. Now, where Barry will end up, and whether he’ll be forgiven by Iris, Wally and the roster of people he’s been manipulating as he leads his vigilante double life, is still largely a mystery.

It’s clear that Thawne didn’t expect, or even really want, Barry to come running into his arms to start their life together the second he succeeded in isolating him -- he makes that abundantly clear as he warns that he’ll just return again and again and again, de-powered, killed or otherwise hindered. Iris may have added an exclamation point to the end of the story arc by “vaporizing” Thawne with a Black Hole gun, but it hardly matters.

Reverse Flash will be back, somehow, at some point, and it’s doubtful that his love and obsession for Barry will have wavered in the slightest. We know now that’s just now how his mind is capable of working. It’s unlikely that Thawne will ever feel anything for Barry beyond his own supremely twisted adoration, no matter how many times the Flash pummels him into the ground. It’s just not the way Thawne’s brain is able to process information anymore.

It’s complicated, messy, and uncomfortable, but it’s also one of the clearest articulations of exactly what makes Reverse Flash such an interesting villain in the scope of not just the Flash family of books, but the DCU as a whole.

#the flash #eobard thawne #barry allen #eobarry

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tlhrfanfic · 4 years ago

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[Analogical ] Chemistry

Title: Chemistry Ship: Analogical Warnings: Lots of cute and fluff. Words: 5,708 Request: So, this was the next request I chose: an analogical fic where Logan and Virgil are science partners would be vvv cute! if its ok! This was also sent in by an anon.

Summary: Logan is used to the routine of his typical life as a high school teen. When the new student becomes his brand new lab partner, however, changes seem to become the new norm. Logan, surprisingly, doesn't seem to mind.

Read on AO3

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

The day was like any other.

… until it wasn’t.

Logan hadn’t changed anything. He had woken up and gotten ready at the same time; he’d taken a shower just like he always did. He had then had breakfast before grabbing his backpack and heading out the door. It was the same ten-minute walk to the high school he’d been attending for the last two years.

Same morning chat with his friends, same walk down the Science hallway, and same Chemistry lab.

Logan settled into his seat before pulling his textbook, notebook, and a pencil out of his backpack.

“Logan.”

He looked up, interest in his eyes. It was, after all, common enough for his teachers to ask him for help with little things from time to time.

The moment his gaze shifted to the unfamiliar teen standing near Mr. Sanders was the moment that everything changed.

A young teen Logan’s age stood with his hands in the pockets of his purple and black plaid hoodie. He had his hood off but it was evident by the way it was scrunched around the back of his neck that it would definitely be on at that very moment if it weren’t for the dress code.

Logan brought his attention back to the teacher as he started to explain that this teen was a new student. Logan glanced at the teen from time to time as he learned that his name was Virgil and that he would be Logan’s new lab partner. Mr. Sanders then asked if he would mind showing Virgil around.

“I would be happy to assist Virgil in any way I am capable, sir.”

Mr. Sanders beamed at him and left Virgil behind as he left for the teacher’s lounge.

“Welcome to the school, Virgil. Are you from out of state?”

Virgil shook his head. “No… he said softly. Perhaps a little shyly. Logan assumed he wasn’t going to say more but a few moments later Virgil spoke up again. “I was homeschooled up until now…”

He shrugged, his hands still in the pockets of his hoodie.

Logan found himself staring at the new guy, wondering why he found him so enchanting. He’d had a handful of crushes in the past but not one of them was as lovely as this one.

“What?!”

Logan blinked. He blushed a moment later, heat rising up the back of his neck, as he realized he had been staring at Virgil for a minute at the very least.

“I apologize. Now, as Mr. Sanders mentioned, my name is Logan. Logan Wright. We are going to be lab partners in this class, evidently.” A thought suddenly occurred to him. “Do you enjoy Chemistry?”

Virgil shrugged.

“I’m not the best at science since my mom is the one who taught me but it’s got its cool factors, I guess.” He shifted a little nervously.

Logan smiled at him gently, nodding.

“That’s more than fine, Virgil. I am quite accomplished at Chemistry so we will not see you fail.”

Virgil blinked before slowly smiling.

“Well… thanks for that… I uh. I appreciate it.”

Logan nodded.

“It’s my pleasure, Virgil. Feel free to take a seat.” He nodded at the empty stool at his lab table.

Virgil hesitated before dropping his backpack onto the stool. He pulled out his Chemistry book, a notebook, and a pencil before setting his bag under the table and taking the seat.

Logan, realizing how close Virgil was, cleared his throat nervously.

“After class, I’ll give you the tour. It’s a fairly big high school but you seem intelligent so I think you’ll learn your way around here in no time.”

He glanced at Virgil who actually smiled.

It was small and Logan almost missed it but it had definitely been there.

“Thanks,” the emo teen said.

“As I said before, it’s my pleasure.”

The smile grew just a few centimeters more and Logan knew that this specific crush would not go away any time soon.

»»————　♞　————««

Virgil walked into Chemistry class two days later and set one of two coffee cups in front of his lab partner. He grinned as the bespectacled teen looked first at the cup and then at Virgil, confusion evident on his face.

“Salutations, Virgil. What is this and what is it for?”

“Mornin’ Logan. That is a caramel latte and it’s a thank you… for, you know, showing me around on Monday.”

Logan smiled and nodded.

“As I said then, it was my absolute pleasure. Thank you for the coffee. Really very nice of you.”

Virgil blushed, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, his voice a little quieter. He smiled softly once Logan looked away.

Taking a seat, Virgil pulled out his things for the class. As he pulled his homework out of his notebook, the emo teen watched Logan from the corner of his eyes. He barely held back a sigh.

When his mom had told him that he would be going to public school, Virgil had had a lot of hangups. He had not expected crushing on the very first guy he met to be one of them.

Then again, Logan wasn’t just some guy. Virgil had only known him for two full days but he already felt as if he knew him pretty well. He was different compared to most guys their age, just like Virgil.

“Did you have any trouble with the assignment last night?”

Virgil jumped in his seat because suddenly Logan’s voice was that much closer. He glanced at the other teen, finding him leaning in some to get a look at Virgil’s assignment sheet.

“Oh… uh, yeah. A little but it wasn’t too horrible, I guess.”

Logan nodded before pointing at one of Virgil’s answers.

“Understandable why you got this but you forgot to consider the temperature of the heat source.”

Virgil glanced at the problem and picked up his pencil, erasing before considering the answer once more, now equipped with Logan’s hint. When he had finished, he looked up at Logan with uncertainty.

Logan’s proud smile at the now correct answer made having to redo the whole question completely worth it. He hesitated before pushing the paper toward his lab partner.

“Any others I need to rework?”

By the time the bell rang, signaling the start of first period, Logan had helped him correct the remaining two problems with incorrect answers.

“Virgil,” Logan said as Mr. Thomas started the class. Suddenly a cell phone that was definitely not his phone was being pushed into his hand. He didn’t need any explanation, however, because the phone—which he assumed was Logan’s—was open onto a new contact entry.

“I’ll text you so you have my number too. This way, should one of us require assistance we can help each other out.”

Virgil nodded, not trusting himself to speak as he ignored the heat rushing up the back of his neck and into his cheeks. Instead, the emo teen entered his information, saved the contact, and passed the phone back to Logan.

True to his word, he texted Virgil, the emo teen’s phone vibrating in his back pocket. He would have saved Logan’s number at that moment but class had begun and the thought of sneaking it out had Virgil’s anxiety rising.

Turning to Logan, he mouthed a thank you before turning his attention back to the lesson.

»»————　☠　————««

Logan had hoped but honestly, had not expected Virgil to actually utilize his phone number when he gave it to him. It was with delighted surprise that two nights later—coincidentally a Friday night—that Virgil texted him, asking him for help with the assignment from earlier that day.

Logan called promptly. Virgil picked up by the second ring and for some inexplicable reason, Logan smiled at that.

“Hey, Logan. Thanks for calling.”

“It’s my pleasure.”

Virgil chuckled and Logan got the image of Virgil sitting there in class, a little half smile on his face as he shook his head and laughed just like that. It wasn’t a mean laugh. Just amused. Almost… fond, even.

Logan blushed.

“So… how can I help?”

Virgil proceeded to point out the problem he was having trouble with and Logan was able to figure out where he’d gone wrong. Unfortunately, it was far easier to explain Chemistry concepts in person.

Biting his lip, Logan glanced at his watch and considered the time. It was Friday night and was still fairly early. He and Logan could grab a table at the local cafe and work on the homework. Logan had, after all, promised to help him, and being in person would really make it easier on Virgil.

Not to mention, Logan really wanted to spend time with him.

“Would you want to meet up with me tonight?”

Virgil made a noise that Logan surmised was some sort of sputter and hoped it was a sputter of surprise, rather than disgust. He quickly cleared his throat and pushed on.

“I was just thinking we could grab dinner at the cafe in town and work on this. It really would be much easier to explain and assist you in person.”

Virgil was silent for a moment. It was just long enough that the intelligent teen was worried Virgil had hung up.

“Uh… okay, yeah. Sure. Wanna meet over at mine and walk over?”

“I don’t know where you live, Virgil…”

“Oh, right! Well, I know the place you mean and it’s really close so I guess… I guess, I’ll see you there soon?”

“Sounds good, Virgil. See you soon.”

“See you soon, Lo.”

Logan gave a start at that. No one had ever called him that before. If anyone else in his life had, he probably would have had some scathing words to throw their way. But for some reason… it just sounded so nice spoken by Virgil.

“Yeah,” he replied only to realize that Virgil had already hung up. Blushing, he grabbed his keys, pocketed them and his phone, and headed out the door.

»»————　♞　————««

Virgil chewed his lip as he waited. Glancing around at other people, recognizing a few from school as he buried deeper into his hoodie, Virgil wondered if this had really been a good idea.

Luckily, before his negative thoughts could even hope to rain on his Black Parade, Logan was suddenly standing before him. And like moths to a flame, his attention shifted to only him.

“Hey,” he said, smiling a little shyly. He reached up to slide his hood back enough to see Logan fully and allow the other to see him a bit too.

“Hey,” Logan said, smiling back. The smile was soft. It did things to Virgil’s insides, but there were too many reasons why it was soft for Virgil to be able to bank on it being a specific one. If it was soft because Logan liked him and wanted to be with him, that would be very good. It could just as easily be Logan liking him as a really good friend or regarding him as family.

Since Virgil really, really, really liked Logan… those, while nice, would not be good.

They would not be good at all.

Silence settled over them. Virgil panicked, fearing that it felt a little awkward. However, he was suddenly unable to use his words because he had to go and think about his crush with said crush standing right there. So, the silence stretched, making him panic more.

Luckily, Logan was pretty good at reading signs of a potential panic attack.

“Virgil.”

Suddenly, Virgil’s focus was on Logan. He was still feeling anxious but his focus had shifted enough. Logan was a little like an anchor in that way.

“What… uh, sorry.”

“I was just thinking we should head in. Grab a table, get dinner ordered. We can work on some of the homework while we wait for our food.”

Virgil beamed at Logan.

With such a plan in place, how could Virgil feel anxious?

Well, aside from the butterflies he constantly felt around Logan, but that was beside the point.

“Yeah… that sounds like a plan.”

Logan held the door open for him and Virgil, ignoring the heat rising up the back of his neck, headed inside.

»»————　☠　————««

Logan was beside himself getting to Chemistry class that next Monday. He knew he had no logical reason for feeling this way. Even the evidence of their rather enjoyable evening of dinner and homework on Friday, and the fact that they texted the entire weekend outside of school talk, was circumstantial at best. Yet, he still felt uncharacteristically giddy as he settled in his chair and got out his things. That done, his eyes panned to the door rather than to the clock, as they would have in the past.

The moment Virgil entered the classroom—exactly two minutes and forty-five seconds until the bell was due to ring—Logan’s heart beat rapidly against his chest.

Whoever said falling in love was the best thing to ever happen to a person was sorely mistaken. This cannot be good for one’s health.

Logan took a deep breath as Virgil made his way over, dropping his bag to the ground unceremoniously as he slumped into the chair. Logan took pity on his friend.

“I take it you couldn’t fall asleep after we said good night?”

Virgil, who had his arms on the desk and face pressed into them, turned to look at his friend and shook his head with a frown. Logan resisted the sudden urge to pull the other into a warm embrace. Blushing at the thought, he looked away and flicked open his textbook to the lab they were meant to cover that day. He then got his homework out, watching from the corner of his eye as Virgil did the same.

“Sorry, Virge.” Logan resisted the urge to correct himself. Virgil had assured him it was fine if Logan wanted to call him Virgil still, but had been sure to advise Logan that his friends usually called him Virge if they didn’t want to use the whole thing. Logan wanted Virgil to be certain in their friendship and his desire to keep it.

He also very much wanted Virgil to be certain that if he wanted more then Logan very much desired that as well…

... but how could he make Virgil certain of that without actually confessing his feelings?

Pushing such thoughts and questions out of his mind, Logan returned to the conversation in time to catch Virgil saying “Insomnia is a bitch, dude.”

Logan nodded. “Yes, it is a troublesome disorder indeed.” Logan glanced around before lowering his voice. “Medication not helping?”

Virgil shrugged. “Kinda, I guess. But it doesn’t really help all the time. It’s inconsistent.”

Logan frowned but nodded. He wished to say more, but it was at that moment Mr. Sanders came in to remind them they were doing a lab that day.

Thomas gave a brief demonstration of the lab and asked them to write down the exact measurements for it. Logan took his notes in his own efficient style, often finished before the others. Usually, he would just wait patiently for Mr. Sanders to carry on with the next part of the demonstration but now he found himself glancing at Virgil.

He watched, mesmerized, as Virgil made big bold circles around the measurements he’d jotted down. Where Logan’s were neat and tidy, Virgil’s were scattered all over the page but a quick look over told him it was still organized, in it’s own way.

In a way he understands… fascinating.

Mr. Sanders finished the demonstration, passed out all the necessary chemicals and safety gear for the lab. Under his supervision, the lab went underway. Virgil watched Logan as he worked for a good part of it.

Logan, so lost in his work, hadn’t noticed until Mr. Sanders came up to them. Leaning down, perhaps under the guise of answering a question, the Chemistry teacher lowered his voice.

“Virgil… don’t you think it’s a little unfair to allow Logan to keep doing the lab himself? Yes, Logan, I am aware you enjoy it and don’t mind, but my point still remains. It’s also not fair to you, Virgil, as you aren’t taking part in the experience.”

Virgil nodded, his face beet red. Logan frowned, resisting the urge to speak up and not quite sure how to feel about it. Mr. Sanders sighed and crouched down.

“I apologize for embarrassing you. It wasn’t my intention.”

“N-no. I know. I didn’t mean to make him do it all… I just kinda got…” He blushed again and looked away, mumbling something that neither Logan or Mr. Sanders could hear. Logan tried his best not to focus on Virgil but rather on Mr. Thomas. He felt a little bad finding blushy red to be quite a fetching color on Virgil, considering the circumstances.

Thomas looked from Logan to Virgil and for a moment Logan was certain he saw a little smile slip onto his face but when he tried to look more closely, it was gone. Interesting.

“Well, that’s fine, Virgil. I get it. You guys are talking and you didn’t notice how much he’d done. But now it’s your turn, okay?”

Virgil nodded. He waited until Mr. Sanders had gone to help someone else before turning to Logan and mouthing ‘what do I do?’.

Logan laughed to himself, knowing that laughing out loud with Virgil freaking out would not help matters, and reached out a hand to squeeze the other’s shoulder.

“It’s okay. You’ve got this. I won’t let you get it wrong,” Logan promised. Virgil smiled and blew his hair out of his eyes. Logan got lost in dark pools of near black for a few moments before his bangs settled once more. He could still see Virgil’s eyes but he suddenly longed to brush his hair back just to look into those eyes once more.

Virgil snorted. “My hero.”

Logan laughed, but smiled. “If that is your wish.”

Virgil laughed and shoved him playfully. He then took a deep breath and allowed Logan to walk him through the process. He was grabbing one of the chemicals that Logan was passing to him when their hands brushed.

It was definitely accidental but they both jumped. Logan laughed softly and Virgil laughed as well. The laughter was different than the normal one they shared, Logan noted. He leaned in a little and offered the chemical bottle once more.

Virgil took it, their hands not brushing this time. Virgil was still not looking away. Logan would have felt a little insecure under his sharp gaze but he was already looking at Virgil for just as long. He swallowed, unsure of what to do or say.

Logan knew something was definitely happening here, he just didn’t have a name or a verified set of instructions on how to handle it nor what to do next.

Virgil leaned in a little closer, his gaze falling to what Logan could only assume was his mouth. Logan swallowed hard again and felt a slight moment of panic. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss Virgil.

He wanted that very, very much. He just didn’t want it to be in the middle of Chemistry class surrounded by of a bunch of classmates and Mr. Sanders.

It had to be his lucky day.

A sudden outcry broke whatever spell Virgil was under. He blinked rapidly and blushed completely before laying his arms on his desk and burying his face in his arms. Logan glanced over to see the reason for the commotion.

Remus Prince and Janus Noirblanc had, from their story, done everything right and still caused the chemicals to overflow. Mr. Sanders explained once more the importance of writing down the notes rather than doodling during note time, to which Remus and Janus laughed but nodded.

The class settled down once more. Logan quickly finished the lab for them, keeping an eye out for Mr. Sanders, before turning to Virgil.

“Hey,” he said, tentatively. “Is… is everything okay?”

Virgil let out a laugh but it definitely didn’t sound happy.

“I nearly made a fool of myself.”

“Because kissing me would make a fool of you?”

Virgil sighed.

“Well, yeah. You’re just… you and so amazing and great and… ugh, do we have to do this here?”

Logan glanced at the clock. He raised a brow at the other.

“Are you going to run from me when the bell rings?”

Virgil clears his throat and looks away. “No…”

“Virgil.”

“Fine… I won’t… run away…”

Logan gave a nod of approval.

“Then, very well. It can wait.”

Which made for a very awkward ten minutes but Logan supposed Virgil had a point. Confessing to Virgil in the middle of Chemistry class hadn’t exactly been his own plan either.

»»————　♞　————««

Virgil was always nervous but that was nothing like how he felt when he followed Logan out of class. He was quiet and making as little sound as possible, hoping Logan might forget he was supposed to be following somewhere. Still, as he had promised his friend, Virgil did not run.

Logan led them to a little lounge area. Other people were around, unfortunately in a school as big as theirs it was inevitable, but no one was paying any attention to them.

Virgil sighed as he took the chair next to the one Logan chose. He turned toward him but raised his hood out of habit. Logan looked at him and Virgil couldn’t resist the urge to look up at him. Their eyes met and Virgil blushed but found he could not look away.

“Hey,” Logan said softly, a warm sort of smile on his face. Virgil couldn’t help but smile back gently at such a display of beauty.

“Hey… so…”

“It’s okay… take your time.”

“Dude, it’s like five minutes between classes. We literally have no time.”

Hands were suddenly offered to him and Virgil took them without thinking. Logan’s hands were slightly larger than his own and he blushed to see how well they held his. He sighed, shaking the nerves off as much as possible.

“We have time and I’ll talk to the Principal or whoever I have to if by some chance we are late.”

“Yeah, okay… fine. So, yeah… I don’t know… back there, in that moment, I just really wanted to kiss you and…”

“I wanted to kiss you too, Virgil… just not in the middle of Chemistry class…”

“Heh, yeah.” Virgil blushed at the admission, feeling butterflies in the bottom of his belly. “It was excellent timing on Remus and Janus’s part.”

“A little too excellent… but yes.”

Logan and Virgil laughed, the tenseness from earlier slipping away.

“Look… you were correct… we are a little pressed for time…”

“Duh.”

Logan laughed and Virgil smiled, pleased with himself.

“Why don’t… why don’t we walk home together? I’ll walk you home.”

“Logan… you live like two miles from me…”

“Yeah. I’m aware.”

Virgil let out a whistle at that and sighed when the warning bell went off to advise students to start heading directly to their classes.

“Fine. You can walk me home.”

“Wonderful.” Logan hesitated before leaning in to press a kiss to Virgil’s cheek. He blushed but smiled happily at Virgil, squeezing his hands. With that, he left Virgil in a bit of a daze. It wasn’t until some loud laughter broke through the fog that Virgil remembered he needed to get to class.

Taking off, Virgil smiled to himself.

»»————　☠　————««

Logan had never looked forward to the end of a school day until that day. He wished all his classes would hurry up. He didn’t bother pacing out his work, instead getting the classwork done and waiting as patiently for possible for the class to end.

Lunch would have been a nice reprieve but due to being in a few Pre-Advanced Placement courses, the lunch he took was different from that of his friends and of Virgil.

He was grateful that his debate class took some of the edge off. He had been due to debate with Remy Lassus but, as Remy’s parents had called him out sick, Remy’s spot had been taken by none other than Janus.

The two weren’t exactly friends. Janus was dating Logan’s best friend Roman and they tolerated each other for the most part. In Debate class? Oh, that was another matter entirely.

Janus had been able to keep up with Logan for most of the class but Logan caught a weak point in his argument that unravelled the whole thing. In the end, they shook hands but both knew the rivalry was still going strong.

With Debate out of the way, Logan just had his teacher aide lesson and he was home free.

Free to see Virgil.

Free to kiss Virgil…

With such a happy thought in his mind, Logan took off for the last period of the day.

»»————　♞　————««

Virgil couldn’t believe he was doing this. Just waiting out at the front of the school for his friend who he had almost kissed in Chemistry. If he were a smart man, he would have headed straight for home after school.

Well, he’d never told anyone he was smart (but Logan seemed to think he was). For whatever reason, this seemed right, no matter how much his twisting insides seemed to tell him otherwise.

“Virgil!”

Virgil’s whole body spun in the direction of Logan’s voice, a smile slipping onto his face as he found the other in the distance, rushing his way.

“Hey, dork,” Virgil said but his words were soft. His voice was even softer.

“Hey, you,” Logan said, wincing at what he had just said. He shook his head as if that would cause his perceived faux pas to disappear. Virgil, however, had found it cute.

“So, uh… walking and talking?”

Logan smiled and nodded.

“Thanks for waiting.”

“Always.”

Virgil blushed. He’d honestly meant it. Well, as much as a 16 year old boy could mean such things, but the point was, it was true for him. He hadn’t meant to tell Logan as much. He was smiling, however, so maybe him knowing wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“Shall we go?”

Virgil could only nod as he smiled. They started heading in the direction of Virgil’s house when he suddenly wondered if Logan would want to come in. Then became a little worried that his room was messy. Still, his happiness at walking with Logan—being with Logan—outweighed all the worries in the world.

“Hey, so… thanks. You know, for earlier… talking after…”

“It was my pleasure,” Logan said, smiling earnestly down at him. Virgil was surprised, suddenly realizing how close in height they were. Yeah, Logan was taller than him but it wasn’t by as much as Virgil had always thought.

Would make it easier to kiss him~

Oh, shut up, you-me-argh, just shut up!

“About that, and what had almost happened before… let me be completely honest with you when I say that had we actually kissed in Chemistry class, I would not have been upset. Far from it…”

Virgil looked at Logan just as the other was glancing at him.

“Really?”

Logan nodded as they turned a corner into Virgil’s neighborhood.

“Without question. I would have been bummed about the location and the lack of some level of privacy for such intimate displays, but I would have been very pleased with the kiss.”

Virgil looked at Logan with wonder, his butterflies returning.

“So… uh… you like me too then? I mean, you like me back…”

Logan laughed at that but there was no malice, only fondness.

“What is it you say… oh, right… duh,”

Virgil blushed and shoved Logan playfully.

“Shut up.”

“You know… I didn’t say this earlier for obvious reasons but you look so cute when you blush.”

Virgil’s face heated rapidly. “I do not!”

“Oh, but you do.”

“Jerk!”

“I suppose that is warranted, considering my flirtation through teasing.”

Virgil just laughed at that, shoving his face into his hands for a moment. Logan reached out to guide Virgil to a stop with him.

“Virgil… are you okay?”

Virgil nodded, face still in his hands.

“Yeah, just… give me a minute.”

Logan didn’t say anything and Virgil couldn’t see his expression. Instead, Virgil felt Logan's hand rubbing his shoulders as well as he could around the backpack strap. Gradually, Virgil turned toward him. The other seemed to understand because a moment later, Logan was wrapping his arms around him as much as their backpacks would allow.

Virgil closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of being pressed against the other. He already knew now that Logan liked him. The butterflies in his tummy now had nothing to do with that.

Virgil really, really wanted to kiss him.

Thank God his house was not far from where they were.

Virgil pulled away from the other, though he hadn’t really wanted to ever leave his arms. He smiled at Logan and nodded.

“I’m good now, thanks.”

Logan nodded, hesitated, and looked forward in the direction they were headed. After a few moments of what Virgil assumed was deliberation, Logan looked at him with a little pink coloring his cheeks.

“If you would permit me to, I would very much like to hold hands with you.”

Virgil could see what Logan meant. He looked quite nice with pink cheeks as well. Of course, such a request got Virgil blushing more. Yet it was with no hesitation that he stuck out his hand closest to Logan for the other to take.

Logan smiled and laced their fingers before they began walking once more. It was a silent agreement that any further talk could wait until they reached Virgil’s house.

»»————　☠　————««

Logan marveled at how wonderful it felt, walking with Virgil, the other teen’s hand in his own. Before Virgil, Logan had always wondered at how couples did such things. Now, after Virgil, he wanted all of those things. But with Virgil alone.

Virgil was leading them along the route he took home everyday. It was so interesting to experience, especially with the knowledge that Virgil liked him as he liked Virgil.

Logan squeezed the other’s hand only for Virgil to squeeze back, looking at him and smiling brightly. A little pink brushed his cheeks and covered the bridge of his nose.

How could one person be so mesmerizing?

“We’re almost there,” Virgil announced. Logan swallowed hard.

Almost there.

Logan nodded and smiled. The smile felt a little forced, but Virgil smiled back. Logan tried to ignore the sudden nerves he felt and enjoy the walk.

Luckily, as soon as they turned the corner, Virgil was pointing out a house two buildings down on the side they were currently on.

“There’s my house,” he mumbled and Logan could just smile.

“Well, let’s go then.”

Virgil led him to the house and inside. As soon as he opened the door, a short woman wearing a dress and apron came from what Logan assumed was the kitchen.

“My baby’s home!” She looked at Logan. He could see where Virgil got his sharp gaze. He smiled. “And he brought a friend…”

Virgil cleared his throat.

“This is Logan… I’ve uh… told you about him… he’s in my Chemistry class… we’re just gonna go up to my room for a bit before Logan goes home… kay now, bye Mom. Love you.”

“Oh! This is Logan!” Virgil’s mom said, the words finally clicking, but Virgil had already dragged Logan down the hallway and into his room.

Closing the door behind him, Virgil sighed. Flicking on the light, he nodded at the bed.

“Sorry, not a lot of options for seating,” he said with a soft laugh. Logan laughed as well and took the end furthest from the pillows. Virgil soon joined him.

“So…”

“So…” Logan agreed with a little smile. He was silent for a moment more, teasing Virgil just a little, before he continued. “So… let’s go down the list, shall we?”

Virgil snorted but nodded. Logan offered his hands which Virgil took immediately.

Smiling, Logan began.

“We both like each other…”

“Check.”

“We both want to kiss each other?”

“Duh.”

Logan gave him a look and Virgil rolled his eyes, smiling.

“Check.”

“And am I correct in assuming that we both want… uh… something more? You know…”

“Are you correct in assuming that we want to be boyfriends?”

Logan nodded. “That’s better. Yes.”

“Very check.”

Logan grinned and Virgil grinned back.

Just like it had happened in Chemistry class, Virgil started to shift a little closer. Logan was more than happy to lean in as well.

This time, no chemicals overflowed and no one was around. This time, there was no almost.

Virgil’s lips pressed against Logan’s first but he had definitely not been too far away. Logan hummed happily into the kiss, his eyes closed as he laced his fingers with Virgil’s.

Logan felt such deep warmth like he had never felt before. He found himself immediately shifting closer to Virgil, as if he were his magnetic opposite.

Virgil chuckled into the kiss, soon having to break it. Logan looked at him with confusion and Virgil shook his head.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked, tilting his head.

“Sorry, Logan… it’s just. I’m starting to think my mom sent me to public school just to make sure I found happiness… but I don’t really think she expected this. Maybe a favorite class. Maybe a best friend. I doubt a boyfriend was ever on her radar.”

Logan laughed softly too.

“I think she will be happy with whatever happiness you find. And you’ll find many more happinesses… hopefully with me.”

Virgil smiled. “Well, you haven’t actually asked me out yet.”

Logan sighed. “Virgil Armitage, will you go out with me?” Though he had sighed, he was smiling by the time he finished.

Virgil smirked. “Duh.”

Logan would have groaned but Virgil was kissing him moments after and Logan really didn’t feel the need to stop him as he kissed back.

A lot had changed in Logan’s life since Virgil entered into it but, as Logan had come to find, sometimes in life there were just some changes that were worth making.

»»————　♞　————««

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Thomas Sanders or Joan, nor the rest of their group. I do not own or make money off of these characters. I only own the story as it is written.

Super uber thanks to my beta reader for this fic @sunshineandteddybears and the two that preread my stuff to make sure its up to par: @romantichopelessly & @sunshineandteddybears.

#tsart #analogical #ts analogical #logan sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #insanelycoolish #tlhrfanfic #lab partners au #lab partners #science boyfriends #tlhrfanfic writing #request fills

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stxleslyds · 4 years ago

Text

MY TOUGHTS ON PART ONE OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY :)

Finally I have read part one of the Red Hood story in Batman: Urban Legends!

This story is very interesting, we start with the Red Hood looking for the people who are providing Gotham with a new drug. This drug “Cheerdrops” has been passed around for weeks at this point and it has had devastating results among it's users. If you know Jason you understand that drugs are a big issue for him and one that he treats very carefully and seriously.

As he interrogates people he arrives to the building where one of the dealers of this drug is supposed to be, there he finds a horrific scene, a boy is desperately trying to wake up his mother who appears to have overdosed in her bed. Jason is quick to call an ambulance and get in contact with Oracle in order to find the boy's father who is (as he finds out later) the man that he was looking for.

Jason sees this scene and can't help but compare it to the time he went through this situation with his mom all those years ago, so he takes the boy with him so he can take him to his father, who Jason is hoping is a good man that had to sell drugs in order to help his family.

That's basically the premise of this first part of the story but now i will write about my thoughts on the specifics of the story.

The story begins with Jason giving a speech about fear and how it's used,

"Fear. Its a tool, it's his tool. I never really adopted it, maybe because he kept that fear all to himself." Then he continues with "Never had to rely on it, had to work harder to take out the bad guys, had to be...more direct." he finishes that thought with "Rubber Bullets. So that fear doesn't get turned around on me."

I for one really liked this Fear speech, it does really sum up what the Batman does, he relies on the Fear that he imposes on Gotham's criminals and such while Robin on the other hand was never meant to work with fear, which is true.

It did remind me of the speech that Alfred gave in issue #10 of Under the Red Hood about how Batman works with fear and Jason had some thoughts on it, here is some of it,

"Master Jason had a condescending practice of referring to the costumed criminals elements as 'dress ups'. He also noted that such individuals did not fear the Batman the way street thugs and mafioso did. The 'dress ups' did not believe he was a monster." "...the boy did say something to me that chilled me to the bone...even then. 'They all know he won't kill them.'"

Anyway let's go back to the actual comic I am talking about...

Jason speaks from his position as Red Hood in current time and says that he uses rubber bullets in order to keep the Bat at bay, the fear that the Bat uses against other criminals cannot be used against him if he plays within the Bat's rules.

As he was doing that he was actually trying to get info about who is making the drug but all he was able to get was who was selling it to the person he was interrogating. This drug is dangerous and Jason has to work fast.

Here is where we see the first flashback scene, we see Jason in the cave before he was able to go out as Robin and he is not to happy about it. The art is very beautiful but sadly in these panels i found my first problem with the context of Jason becoming Robin and how Zdarsky seems to set Jason's feelings on the first Robin.

It seems that Zdarsky is going for the “Jason believed Dick was the perfect Robin and no matter what he did he would never be as good as him” route, which fine ok, that's your right but, is it really necessary? I must admit i am a little tired of this particular thing because i adore the fact that when Dick and Jason first met they were fine with one another (even if a little wary at the very start). And the whole competitive and “i will never be as good as X person” is really tiring in the Robin/Batfamily fandom.

That problem is not as significant as the next one though.

Jason not thinking that Robin was “badass”. Well this is not only a bad take but it's completely OOC for Jason, no matter how you see it. From his first appearance as Robin to the flashbacks in Winick's UtRH and even through both of Lobdell's runs Jason has always loved the concept and the mantle of Robin as a child.

Batman v1, #385.

So that whole take is wrong, i don't like it and also who on this or any universe would rather call themselves Batboy? Honestly i hope this is never brought up again or i will cry. ((((Also in this house Robin will always be the name that Mary gave Dick and then he used as his hero name so it hurts a lot more))))

Also at the end of this first flashback Jason discovers a room full of firearms and is obviously surprised because Batman hates those so he asks why he has them, B responds that he has to understand how they work for his detective work, but that's not all he says, he also says this “...Guns are a coward's weapon, and we will not be cowards.”

Alright Mr. Zdarsky i see the irony... i also see the Daredevil / Punisher thingie right there.

Anyway we are now back to the present where we see Batman seeing the effects of the drug in one of its victims, after saving that person he takes some samples of the drug. We also get to see two police officers with different views on the “masks”, that's a nice way to set the story after the Joker War and before the Magistrate.

Back to Jason, he seems to be struggling, he can't find the people making/providing the drugs in Gotham and is also doubting his skills, he tells a man that if the information that he gave him is incorrect he “will find him” followed with another internal speech full of self doubt, “...sure thing Red Hood, right now you can't even find a street drug. Half of Gotham's teenagers could find it no problem. You never were the best detective.”

Alright, so Jason feels insecure about his skills now? First you have pre-Robin Jason not feeling like he could be able to keep up with the first Robin and now, Jason as a grown man has doubts about the skills that he has used for a long while now? I mean, press X for DOUBT because UtRH showed us how much of a badass and extremely skilled he is. This man planed everything in order to turn the Bat's world upside down (and this story has references to UtRH so it definitely happened) and now he feels like he is not that good?

Shit. i know where this is going, first the insecurities that he has already worked out... I can see it coming, the next big thing will be Daddy issues. Wonderful i hate it and i hope i am wrong because those “issues” are more than resolved, i know that's the only trope DC throws at Jason but honestly how different will it be this time?

Fine, lets move on. Jason finds himself in one of the apartments and what he sees is horrifying. Lying on a bed there is a woman completely catatonic with a horrible smile on her face and right next to her a terrified little boy.

Here is the best take on Jason's character so far.

Realizing that the child is scared of the situation and the masked man that just came into his home Jason takes off his mask and reassures the kid that he is there to help, it's quickly made obvious that the woman has overdosed on Cheerdrops, he makes sure to call an ambulance for her stating that she seems to be in a drug-related coma.

Its important to note that Jason is doing this as he is having troubling thoughts about how much this scene reminds him of the time he was in this little boy's (Tyler) shoes. Its hard for him but he soon realizes that he needs to make sure Tyler is safe.

He asks Tyler if he has another parent, he does and his name is Andy, after taking a look around the house Jason deduces that maybe the father is also taking drugs so if the police comes they will surely take Tyler and put him in the system, this idea is not one Jason is fond of so he calls Oracle, he asks if she can locate Tyler's dad's phone, when she asks about the kid Jason says that he will be the one keeping him safe.

Now we find ourselves back with Batman where he is investigating the components of Cheerdrops, he finds out that the drug is a modified version of Scarecrow's fear gas that gives the victim a sense of extreme happiness instead of fear.

Here we get confirmation of when in the timeline this story occurs, which is after the events of Infinite Frontier (where there was an attack on Arkham and many patients/prisoners were killed or escaped).

B suggests to Oracle that maybe Crane didn't die there and that he might be behind this drug, he will be on the job right away! To this Oracle is like well shit, so she tells B that Jason is also working this case...and here comes a funny yet confusing interaction.

Barbara says “I know you two aren't exactly friends right now but...” before she finishes Batman interrupts her by saying “He is a killer Barbara. I will do this alone.”

OH BOY is this interaction confusing! First of all may i point out how different this conversation is from the one in Three Jokers where the roles were basically reversed??? Please tell me that i am not the only one who finds that funny! Anyway that story doesn't matter here, but Red Hood Outlaw from Rebirth does, right?

Here is the thing, the last person that Jason “killed” in rebirth was Penguin and he actually didn't do it, he had him trapped in a panic room in his own Casino. Batman already beat the living shit out of Jason in RHatO #25 for it...and some time has passed, B surely found out that Jason didn't kill Penguin by now, i mean isn't he like the best detective to ever detective in the history of the universe??

Not only that but Jason has been using rubber bullets for a while and even at the start he mentions that, he basically implies that he is playing by the Bat's rules to keep him off his back. Maybe B hasn't let go of the duffel bag full of heads or any of the shitty people Jason killed during UtRH??? If B still holds that against Jason then why would he try to make Jason part of his Bat clan at the beginning of RHatO Rebirth?

Maybe he still thinks that Jason killed the penguin...but even then isn't B working with Harley and Ghost-Maker? You know, people who have killed? Why is Jason different? Did Jason kill someone recently that we don't know about? Jason only kills a very distinct set of people (that are very not nice) so i guess i don't see the logic...

Anyway second flashback, and this time we have a look at what was going on in the Batcave with B and Alfred during the events of UtRH! Nothing that wasn't explored in UtRH is said here but we do see Alfred explicitly telling Bruce how much they failed Jason. There is a heavy insinuation that the fact that Batman keeps sending the Joker to Arkham only for him to escape and kill more people actually makes B responsible for those deaths and i love that. Thank you.

Back to Jason and Tyler we get to see some very adorable scenes between the two. Jason gives the lower half of his mask to Tyler to protect his identity like a superhero and we have a really sweet moment in which Tyler chooses the Blue Hood as his name because he likes the colour blue (same Tyler).

After he leaves Tyler in a place where he will be safe he goes to the building where Andy should be and let me tell you the more Jason sees the less hopeful he becomes about Andy being just one of the people selling the drug... He does some shooting and incapacitating and then follows the man that is trying to escape and here is when shit hits the fan.

Andy is a disgusting human being. He hates Tyler's mother and doesn't care that she might be dead and the piece of shit hates his son so much that he gave a barely 10 year old drugs.

Yeah. BANG BANG BANG MOTHERFUKER.

If you think that this leads to Jason being a little more like his UtRH self, you know the guy that said that people who gave drugs to kids will get killed without a thought...yeah that's not happening, here comes the guilt!

I get it he just killed a man, but, did you read what that man said?

Anyway that's how the first part of this story ends.

The story is good. it has things that don't make much sense but i think it's because Zdarsky is a Batman fan and not a Red Hood fan in the sense that he doesnt know much about Jason's character and that this is his first ever DC work.

I cant wait to see where this story goes, while i hope “unresolved daddy issues” doesn't become a theme yet again in a Red Hood story i believe it's where we are headed. I will keep on reading because i am invested in Jason and Tyler's relationship and what is going to happen now that Jason killed Andy.

Let me know what you thought about the issue and my post if you want! Bye!

#jason todd #red hood #red hood outlaw #batman urban legends #robin #batman and robin

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seasonofthewicth · 4 years ago

Text

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 9

AN: a slightly longer one today guys, got myself all emotional with the rowaelin here and i hope it gets you too

masterlist - ao3

------

“He was friendly when he first came in,” Chaol’s normally subdued tone was full of energy as he spun his tale, eyes wide with excitement as he looked towards Aelin. “But then so quickly he goes completely crazy, shouting and ranting so loud in my face that Maeve has to come in and see what the problem is.”

Yrene laughed fondly at her husband as she rested a hand on his shoulder where she sat across the wooden staff room table from Aelin, “You could hear it all the way down the corridor.”

Aelin laughed as she took in Chaol’s wide eyed expression and Dorian’s restrained laughter, Yrene’s gentle grin and Nehemia’s cool smirk.

Her first parent-teacher conference at the new school was this evening, and to her absolute delight, her friends were busy spinning their horror stories. Admittedly, she was nervous for the event, and even though it wasn’t her first time it was always an unnerving experience at a new school. It was her opportunity to introduce herself to the parents as Miss Galathynius and show them who she was, what she had, and to prove to them that she was the best choice for their children.

Realistically, she knew she had no reason to be nervous, her class were a great group of children, they all tried hard and engaged enthusiastically with her lessons, but meeting their parents for the first time was important. Making her first impression as an educator was important, and she knew that people sometimes unfairly judged her. At her previous school she knew some of the parents had made some unfair and incorrect assumptions about her but she had tried not to let it bother her. Had tried to brush off their barely hidden insults about her styles of teaching and even her choices of clothing. She couldn’t change peoples’ opinions but she could try to change their lasting impressions of herself.

Dorian had assured her that the majority of the parents at the school were great, most were pretty chilled out as long as their child wasn’t falling too far behind, which Aelin knew hers weren’t. That said, it was Dorian who had prompted the story time session in the break room, wordlessly picking up on her nervousness and launching into every horror story he could remember from his years teaching.

Since their ill-fated affair he had cemented his place in her life as one of her closest friends, rivalling only Lysandra in level of familiarity and they had spent an increasing amount of time together. From coffee runs to lounging around the loft watching movies she enjoyed every moment they spent together and she was comfortable that there was no remaining awkwardness from their brief tangle.

She hadn’t told anyone the outcome of their date yet, she hadn’t had much time to catch up with Lysandra since, and it wasn’t something she was particularly keen to tell her roommates. As much as she loved them there were times that their typical guy nature made her hesitant to share, and her failure to sleep with her date was not something she felt like sharing with them.

She was especially reluctant to share that piece of information with Rowan, he had told her to forget about their moment in the kitchen, and she had tried. It just hadn’t worked out quite as she had planned. But she was resolved, she would get over him, and if having him think she was dating Dorian told him she was, she wasn’t complaining.

“It took five minutes for us to even figure out what he was yelling about.” Chaol continued, flashing her an exasperated look.

“Which was?” Aelin asked, already grinning in anticipation of whatever ridiculous answer Chaol could give.

In her experience Chaol was a by-the-book teacher. She liked him, he was pretty smart, straightforward and an involved and ambitious teacher, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything deserving of being shouted at by a parent.

“Chaol had, completely unreasonably,” Dorian drawled sarcastically, tossing his unstarted apple between his palms, “decided to offer his students a quiz for the last class of the week instead of one more hour of curriculum teaching.”

Yrene sketched a mocking gasp and Nehemia held a hand to her chest as she rolled her eyes at the story.

“Could you imagine such a thing?” She laughed, eyes dancing with mirth as she grinned over to Aelin.

Aelin shook her head in mock horror at Chaol, unable to fully hide her smile as she laughed along.

“How could you?” She asked, half laughing at the absurdity of the parent’s rage and half at Chaol’s over the top attempt at a dejected expression. “You aren’t actually making me feel any better about later, by the way.”

Yrene reached over to squeeze her shoulder, “You don’t need us to do that, they will all love you I’m sure.”

Aelin needed more of Yrene’s optimism in her life and admittedly the woman’s kind smile was infectious. She was also right, why wouldn’t they love her?

------

The documentary on the television hadn’t fully captured Rowan’s attention, it was something about an animal in the rainforest and he had missed the part where it’s name was given, but it would do for a lazy afternoon while the rest of his roommates were at work. The afternoons were one of his favourite times of the day, he had the loft to himself to read or watch or listen to whatever he wanted in the usually shared spaces rather than his ordinarily messy and somewhat cramped bedroom.

Being the only one of his roommates to not work in the daytimes had its ups and downs, the freedom and space was a definite pro, but sometimes it could be lonely sitting around the loft on his own, and the days Lorcan was off with him after working a shift were often ones he enjoyed the most. His friend had a sarcastic and wicked sense of humour that worked well with Rowan’s relatively blunt demeanor. He’d never tell him that though.

Of everyone in the loft he had known Lorcan for the shortest amount of time. Technically, but he didn’t count the years of Aelin being in his periphery as knowing her. They had met through Fenrys, and Rowan wasn’t convinced that even Fenrys knew how he had come to be friends with the surly male, their personalities weren’t ones Rowan would have expected to be friends, but years later Lorcan had managed to cement himself as one of Rowan’s closest friends.

He checked the time on his phone as the sound of the loft front door caught his attention, none of his roommates should be at the loft at this time.

Seconds later Aedion came into view, already shucking off his tie before launching himself onto the couch next to Rowan with a deep sigh. Rowan slowly turned his head towards his best friend, waiting for him to reopen his eyes before raising his eyebrows.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” He began. “But why are you here?”

Aedion laughed before rolling forwards to sit upright on the sofa.

“Turned in the final piece for one of our biggest accounts this morning so we all got the afternoon off.”

“Nice,” Rowan nodded, Aedion probably worked the hardest of all of them in the loft. He worked for a marketing firm that had a bunch of high profile clients and he spent many nights in the office working overtime. Rowan shared those unpopular hours, but was grateful he didn’t have the early mornings too. “What are you doing for the rest of the day then?”

Aedion shrugged. “Thought I could spend some quality time with you my friend. Maybe find out what you wanted to talk to me about the other day.”

Aedion’s smirk was predatory, and Rowan felt like a deer in the headlights. He opened his mouth then closed it again.

He had been more than lucky to have gotten away with it for so long, he was surprised Aedion had managed the few days of Rowan saying nothing before giving in and straight up asking.

Since Aelin’s date with Dorian the man’s presence had become a regular feature of the loft, each visit reducing Rowan’s desire to admit any of his feelings about Aelin to anyone, let alone Aelin herself. He had tried to avoid being in the room when they were snuggling on the couch or had quickly changed the topic when he had come up in conversation.

Message received. He was at least glad that Aelin seemed happy, and it was his own fault that it wasn’t with him. He had told her to forget it ever happened and she had. Why Aedion wanted to make him talk about it now was anyone’s guess, he just wanted to deal with it alone. Preferably by not thinking about it, or at least trying not to.

“Oh nothing,” He brushed it off. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Aedion raised a golden eyebrow, unimpressed with Rowan’s clear denial and he winced internally. He should have known better than to assume Aedion would have been satisfied with that.

“Are you sure?” Aedion’s question was all too innocent. “You sure it wasn’t about anyone in particular?”

Rowan gritted his teeth, knowing he was just going to have to let this play out.

Aedion took a moment, pretending to ponder his next words and letting Rowan stew in his anticipation. “Not even my darling cousin?”

Rowan felt his cheeks begin to burn as he chewed on the inside of his lip. Aedion was a smug son of a bitch, smiling at Rowan like a cat who got the cream.

Rowan took a deep breath in. “Don’t fucking tell anyone, okay.”

Aedion’s expression dropped into something slightly more serious.

“Pinky swear,” Aedion grinned at him and Rowan flashed him a glare.

“I’m definitely not saying anything if you’re not being serious.”

Aedion cleared his throat, making a show of sobering his expression. “I’m serious, okay, now go.”

“So you clearly know something went down between me and Aelin,” That was as good a place to start as any he supposed. “How did you even find out about that?”

“Lysandra.” Aedion’s voice was almost dopey as he said the woman’s name. Gross, even though he was happy for his friend it was gross.

“Nice to know you and your girlfriend have nothing better to do than gossip about me.” Rowan frowned.

“Believe me, we have better things to do,” Aedion’s grin took over his whole face. “It’s just when we’re done we move on to pitying you…”

“I said be serious.” Rowan said bluntly, embarrassed enough as it was.

“Sorry, sorry.” Aedion held his hands up. “Continue.”

“There isn’t much more to be said.” He paused, realising the almost uncomfortable truth in his own words. “She’s moved past it anyway, like I told her too, so that’s it. We’re good, no danger of that.”

The look Aedion gave him was pure pity and Rowan looked away fast.

“Ro,” His friend’s voice was soft as he said his name, but he struggled for anything more, clearly reading Rowan better than he ever wanted to be read.

Rowan shrugged. “It’s fine, we’re all good.”

Aedion opened his mouth to speak but Rowan interrupted before he could get a word out.

“You need to tell her about you and Lysandra.” He could only see the secret ending in disaster, and now he was involved. He owed it to Aedion to keep the secret, but the guilt of keeping it from Aelin was eating away at him.

Aedion sighed, “I know. We will, soon. It’s just, when? You know?”

“You need to do it soon.” Rowan told him, feeling somewhat like a parent scolding a child. “You’re only going to upset her, and keeping it all a secret longer is just going to make it worse.”

Aedion looked down to the couch they sat on, avoiding Rowan’s eyes.

“I know.” He sighed.

“I don’t want her to get hurt.” It was as much as Rowan was willing to admit out loud.

“I don’t either.” Aedion’s tone was defensive and Rowan sighed.

“Now,” He began, pushing off the couch and standing above his friend. “I have a shift at the bar, you coming?”

Aedion half-smiled up at him. “Alright, but I’m not paying for any of my drinks.”

Rowan scoffed, “When do you ever?”

Aedion rose to his feet, shrugging, “Just making sure.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, feeling as Aedion always made him feel, relaxed and amused with the usual hint of mild irritation.

------

The evening had passed relatively quickly, all of the parents she had met so far had been lovely and were well engaged in their children’s lives and education which Aelin always appreciated. She only had one parent left to meet, the father of her student Evangeline, a bubbly young girl who Aelin adored. The young girl was inquisitive and tried hard with anything Aelin threw at them, a perfect student in Aelin’s eyes.

A knock on her classroom door sounded and she jumped to her feet, calling out for them to come in as she rose. The man who came through her doorway was striking, his golden hair shone and his green eyes were bright. He was dressed in a sharp grey suit, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his tie was missing.

He held a hand out for her to shake and she caught a brief glance of a tattoo on his wrist, one that looked almost like a snake, peeking past his expensive looking watch.

“Archer Finn,” His voice was low and smooth, as he flashed her a polished smile.

“Aelin Galathynius,” She shook his hand firmly and smiled widely. “Please, take a seat.”

The man slid smoothly into the seat opposite her, and she forced her mind to focus on the task at hand, and reminded herself that this was one of her student’s fathers. No sign of a ring, her unhelpful mind added.

“Thank you, Miss Galathynius,” He folded his hands in his lap. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you about Evangeline’s progress.”

Aelin grinned. “As have I, Evangeline is a fantastic student, the passion she displays in the classroom is phenomenal. Her artwork-- she displays a level of true talent.”

“Yes,” His tone was clipped. “That is what I have been hoping to talk to you about.”

Aelin felt her smile freeze.

“Evangeline will not be participating in any art activities from this point onwards, I don’t believe they are of any value. To put it bluntly, they’re a complete waste of time.”

Aelin was frozen, paused in a state of shock at the man’s words.

“I unfortunately have to disagree--”

He held a hand up to stop her and she recoiled.

“Please, Miss Galathynius,” He huffed out a condescending laugh and Aelin felt her blood begin to boil. “As her father I believe I know what is best for Evangeline.”

“And what is that?” She asked dryly.

Archer Finn seemed to take a moment, raking his eyes from her head to her toe before meeting her gaze again. She could tell the look hadn’t been one of appreciation and she bristled.

“What Evangeline needs is a teacher who takes her education seriously, someone who understands that painting her pretty pictures is a waste of time.” The sarcasm in his voice had her clenching her jaw, but she tried to rein in her temper, remembering that she was still new to the school.

“Mr Finn, I--”

He held a hand to her face again and stood, buttoning his suit jacket as he did, and Aelin slowly rose out of her chair.

“Mr Finn, I have a masters degree in children’s education, I know the value of creativity in learning.” Aelin could hardly keep her voice steady as she spoke, barely concealing the anger the man in front of her had managed to unleash inside her in such a short space of time.

The man seemed to sneer at her words, looking down his nose at her as he frowned.

“You may well have, and I’m sure it was worth every penny to you.” He smirked at her, crushing her with only a handful of words. “Either way, Evangeline will be seeing a private tutor during your creative hours.”

The scorn in his voice burned her, hitting her in a deep part of her soul that wasn’t often exposed. She knew she was right, knew that she knew what Evangeline needed, knew that her methods of teaching had merit and worth. This sad excuse for a father was blind and arrogant if he thought he knew better than Aelin, but she was trapped. What more could she say to change his mind?

In her silence he had crossed the room to pause by the door before turning back to look at her where she stood dumbfounded behind her desk, clenching her fists at her sides and trying to compose herself.

“I’m glad we had this chat, Miss Galathynius.” With that he was gone, taking his smug and condescending atmosphere with him.

Her breath rushed out of her in a gust, burning her throat as she held back the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn’t believe him, Mr Finn. The audacity he had to walk into her classroom and speak to her like that.

She dropped back into her seat, resting both of her hands against the cool wood of her desk and focussing on all the knots and whorls in the wood, breathing deeply in and out as she centred her thoughts. She almost couldn’t believe how her evening had ended up and she let out a brief snort at the idea that maybe her story could now beat Chaol’s from this morning.

A knock at her door snapped her to attention, if Mr Finn had come back for another go at her she wouldn’t be able to bite her tongue this time. Her fears were sedated when a familiar head of dark curls poked around the door frame.

Dorian’s smile was bright and easy as he walked towards her, perching on the front of one of her student's desks.

“So?” He asked as he crossed his ankles in front of himself, the portrait of a male completely at ease.

Aelin only shook her head, unable to sum up her final visit in a few words.

“Have you ever taught Evangeline Finn?” She managed, hating how destroyed she sounded even to her own ears.

Dorian barely managed to cover his wince.

“Ah,” He sighed. “You met Archer Finn. How bad was it?”

She looked at the floor, holding back the flood that wanted to break through, she refused to cry in school over a parent, no matter how much he had riled her up.

“Bad,” She managed but her voice betrayed her, letting a crack rip through the word.

Dorian was around the desk and at her side within a second, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“What did he say?” Dorian asked, his tone gentle as if not to startle her.

Aelin sniffed. “Oh you know, the usual, dismissing my teaching and belittling my degree.”

She let out a self-deprecating laugh as she looked to Dorian whose brow creased at her words.

“Don’t listen to him. You know he’s not right.” She knew his words were earnest, but they couldn’t keep the doubt at bay and she shrugged out of his hold.

“I don’t know,” She looked away.

“Come on,” Dorian tried. “Let’s get a drink or something, take your mind off it.”

“Thanks, Dorian. But I think I just want to go home and be alone.”

Dorian’s mouth twisted as he considered it, probably weighing up whether or not to try again. Eventually he relented.

“Text me if you need anything, okay? I’m here for you.”

She lightly squeezed his hand before rising to pack up her things. His offer hadn’t tempted her, she did want to be alone, but maybe a drink wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

------

The bar was relatively busy, a few customers every so often had him drifting in and out of conversation with Aedion. Lorcan had joined Aedion at the bar not long after they arrived, grumbling about something or other that Rowan soon avoided, turning back to another customer after dropping off Lorcan’s pint.

A brief lull allowed him to drift back to his friends, wiping down a few spills along the bar as he went.

“It’s the fucking worst, all right.” The dark-haired giant complained, words muffled by the strong hand he ran down his face.

Rowan turned to Aedion for explanation who merely shrugged before lifting his empty glass to Rowan. He grabbed it and turned to refill it as Lorcan spoke again.

“I didn’t sign up for any of this, stupid regulations and reforms.”

Lorcan was clearly in a talking mood tonight. Rowan met Aedion’s eyes, a silent challenge, begging the blond man to speak first but Aedion just leaned back in his seat, taking a large gulp of his beer. Rowan flicked him the middle finger before turning to Lorcan.

“What is?”

Lorcan turned the force of his glare to Rowan who shifted against the unexpected heat.

“My stupid boss.”

“What about them?” Aedion finally joined in.

Lorcan sighed, a frustrated sound as if explaining it would be hard work. Rowan grinned a sharp flash of teeth at Aedion who rolled his eyes at their friend’s dramatics.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to drink.” Lorcan finished his drink in a final swig, placing the glass before Rowan ceremoniously.

Rowan scooped it up, sketching a mocking salute at his friend. “That, we can do.”

As he turned he spotted Fenrys making his way over from the door and he grabbed another glass to fill as the golden-haired man took his seat. He dumped the drinks in front of his friends with little finesse as Fenrys spoke.

“Why is Aelin sitting in the corner on her own?”

Aelin?

“Aelin’s here?” Aedion asked as the four of them turned to look where Fenrys had pointed.

Sure enough, Aelin was tucked away in a booth in the corner of the room. He hadn’t noticed her come in and Rowan could see the glum expression on her face even from a distance.

“Is she okay?” He managed.

“She doesn’t look okay.”

The three of them swivelled to look at Lorcan, matching looks of disbelief across each of their faces.

“Has she said anything to any of you?” Fenrys asked. “Anything to Lysandra?” With a look to Aedion who shook his head.

“Should we go over?” Aedion asked, an unsure twist to his mouth.

“If she wanted to sit with us she’d be here.” Lorcan said bluntly.

“Shut up, asshole.” Rowan narrowed his eyes. “I’ll take her a drink.”

-------

The glass of wine was cool in his hand as he made his way across the bar, skirting round tables of customers as he went.

“Hey,” His voice was soft as he reached Aelin’s booth, lingering by the edge of the table as she looked up at him.

His heart jolted at the expression she wore. Her beautiful blue eyes were wide and red-rimmed, her plush pink lips twisted into a pout. She swallowed before speaking and the hurt in her voice tore his heart again.

“Oh. Didn’t think you’d notice me here.” Her voice was quiet as he dropped into the seat opposite her and pushed the glass towards her.

“It’s kind of my job to notice who needs a drink,” He said equally quietly, leaning forwards and pressing his arms against the table between them. He had hoped his words would bring a smile but Aelin pursed her lips, debating, before reaching towards the glass and taking a sip.

At least there was that.

“You don’t-- I mean, you don’t have to answer... If you don’t want to, but,” He didn’t usually stumble over his words so much. “Are you okay?”

Aelin’s refusal to meet his eyes pretty much answered his question, but he still waited for her to speak.

She blew out a breath, the air teasing the fair strands of hair around her face as she looked towards the ceiling then back down to him.

“Not really.” She said as she looked away from him again.

He spared a glance over to the bar where his friends sat, watching him and Aelin, each with expressions of concern. Even Lorcan for all his grumbling before Rowan came over.

“What happened?” He asked as gently as he could.

Aelin took a sip of her wine, glancing around the bar and spotting their friends who quickly jumped back into their own conversation before resting her gaze back on him.

She shrugged, putting her glass back on the table before speaking.

“One of my student’s parents basically told me I’m a shit teacher today.”

“Aelin no,” The words left him in a rush, utterly raw in his desperation to reassure her. “Aelin, you have to know you’re not a shit teacher.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her pout still standing strong.

“What did they say?”

“Just that my degree is worthless and that I don’t know what’s best for the kids.”

Asshole. Fucking asshole.

If he ever saw the asshole who had said those cruel words to Aelin he’d-- He didn’t know what he’d do but it would hurt.

“Aelin, don’t listen to them. That’s not true.”

“It’s not?” Her question, in combination with her soft sniffle shattered him.

He reached out to lightly grasp one of her hands in his, gently toying with her delicate fingers.

“Of course not Aelin. You’re an incredible teacher.”

She drew her hand back to take another sip of her wine.

“How would you know?” She asked. “You’ve never seen me teach.”

“I don’t need to Aelin. I know you, and you’re everything a good teacher should be. Kind, caring, patient, passionate-”

“Okay,” She interrupted.

“I’m serious Aelin, promise me you won’t believe a word that asshole said.”

She scoffed, looking away from him yet again.

“Aelin?”

“Okay, I promise.” Her tone was resigned, but at least she had agreed. He didn’t know how much help he had managed to be, but he hoped at least a small part of her had listened.

“What are you doing sitting alone anyway? You can always come to us with things like this.” He knew without a doubt that the others would agree.

She brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and Rowan’s fingers itched to follow the motion but he held his hands together, now under the table. She shrugged as a faint blush crossed her cheeks and Rowan fought the warmth blooming inside him at the sight.

“Come and drink with us.” He said, nodding his head towards where the others were sitting at the bar. “Salvaterre’s miserable too so you won’t be alone.”

At that, Aelin’s lips twitched as the hint of a smile ghosted across her face, it was the closest he had seen all night and he’d take it.

“Why?” Her voice was quiet.

“Other than the usual?” He joked and she finally cracked a real smile, small but still there, and the relief that flooded through him was like lightning. “I think it’s something about his work or his boss, I don’t really know.”

He slid himself out of the booth and held a hand out to her, his final request, if she really didn’t want to join them he could accept that, but he knew he’d still keep an eye on her for the rest of the night.

Thankfully she stood, grabbing her things and leading the way over to their friends, and he sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods. Over her head he saw Aedion flash him a thankful smile. She flopped onto a stool next to Fenrys as Rowan slid back behind the bar.

“So,” She turned to Lorcan, barely missing a beat. “What are you crying about now?”

Lorcan didn’t hesitate before lunging into his story, his own subtle way of making sure Aelin was alright and not dwelling on her issues.

“My new boss is an asshole. Turns up in Rifthold fresh out of headquarters in somewhere called Perranth, and thinks everyone should just bow down or something. Now, first of all, I’ve never even heard of Perranth,” He paused to take a bitter swig of his beer.

“Me neither,” Fenrys chimed in.

“It’s in Terrasen,” Aelin said after a sip of her own wine. The heaviness from before didn’t weigh on her face anymore and Rowan turned to serve another customer, hiding his smile. “I think I went once when I was a kid.”

Lorcan frowned at her but Rowan could tell it lacked it’s usual heat.

“Whatever,” Lorcan continued. “The point is, I’ve worked here for years, I know Rifthold and how things are done. Captain Lochan has been here all of five minutes and apparently knows all the improvements we need to make.”

The curl of Lorcan’s lips as he hissed his boss’ name prompted a small laugh, the guy must be a total hardass to have Lorcan so riled.

“What’s wrong with the improvements?” Aelin asked and Lorcan sighed.

“Nothing is wrong with the improvements,” He muttered and Aelin finally laughed, the tinkling sound washing over Rowan and settling into his bones.

“So what’s the problem?” Aedion asked after a moment, the question that they were all thinking and Lorcan shot him a glare, this time not lacking any heat.

“The problem is the Captain. So controlling and everything has to be done in exactly their way, constantly on me about my reports as well.” He rolled his eyes, clearly over talking about his boss and Rowan couldn't help from poking the bear one last time.

“Why don’t you invite the Captain here? I don’t know any problem a free beer couldn’t solve.”

“Absolutely not.” Lorcan said, shaking his head.

“Well I, for one, want to meet the famous Captain Lochan.” Fenrys grinned. “Especially if it would annoy you so much.”

“Don’t.” Lorcan said, a hair’s width below a growl.

“Why not?” Aedion joined in and Rowan watched the smile settling on Aelin’s lips at their friends’ antics.

He shook himself, laughing along as Lorcan slugged Aedion in the shoulder.

“Maybe find something to take your mind off it?” Fenrys suggested and Rowan knew where he was going would be fun. “Get a pet or something?”

“Just watch me, boyo.” Lorcan bared his teeth around the grin threatening to take over his own face. His pretend displeasure only just winning the battle.

The smile on Aelin’s face struck him again in its beauty, and he forced his attention away from her and back to the idiots now suggesting outlandish animals Lorcan could bring home as a pet.

He bit his lip as Aelin suggested a lion in response to Aedion’s tiger and thanked the gods again that she was smiling.

------

tags:

@jesstargaryenqueen

@maybekindasortaace

@slytheringalathynius

@http-itsrebecca

@morganofthewildfire

@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato

@fictional-horan

@tottenhamboys20

@dressedindustandshadows

@sleeping-and-books

@perseusannabeth

@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@superspiritfestival

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

@spyofthenightcourt

@jlinez

@queen-of-glass

@booknerdproblems

@sjmships

@elriel4life

@bamchickawowow

@woollycat22

@claralady

@illyrianwitchling

@SHINYA-HIIRAGI

hmu if any tags don’t work

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dherzogblog · 3 years ago

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The Birth of The Daily Show: 25 Years of Fake News and Moments of Zen

It was July of 1995 and I had left MTV to become President of Comedy Central. It was the basic cable equivalent of going from the NY Yankees to an expansion team. I was on the job just two weeks when I received a call from Brillstein Grey the high powered managers of Bill Maher, host of one of the networks few original programs, "Politically Incorrect". We were informed Bill and his show would leave the network when his contract expired in 12 months. It was a done deal. Bill wanted to take his show to the "big leagues" at ABC where he would follow Night Line. Comedy Central was left jilted. Terrible news for a network still trying to establish itself. We had a year to figure out how to replace him and the clock was ticking. So began the path to The Daily Show.

It was very much a fledgling Comedy Central I joined, available in barely 35 million homes, desperately seeking an identity and an audience. It was just over three years old, born into a shot gun wedding that joined two struggling and competing comedy networks, HBO’s Comedy Channel and Viacom’s HA!, Watching them both stumble out of the gate, the cable operators forced them to merge, telling them: "We only need one comedy channel, you guys figure it out”. After some contentious negotiations the new channel was born and the red headed step child of MTV and HBO set out to find the pop culture zeitgeist its parents had already expertly navigated. The network had yet to define itself. The programming consisted mainly of old stand up specials from the likes of Gallagher (never underestimate the appeal of a man smashing watermelons), a hodgepodge of licensed movies (“The God’s Must be Crazy and The Cheech and Chong trilogy were mainstays) and Benny Hill reruns. The networks biggest hit by far was the UK import “Absolutely Fabulous”, better know as “AbFab”. Comedy Central boasted a handful of original shows, including the wonderfully sublime "SquiggleVision" of “Dr. Katz”, the sketch comedy "Exit 57" (starring the then unknown Amy Sedaris and Stephen Colbert) and of course Maher’s "Politically Incorrect". In retrospect I don’t think Bill got enough credit for pioneering the idea of political comedy on mainstream TV. Back then he was the only one doing it.

Politically Incorrect performed just fine, but got more critical attention than ratings. It was a panel show, and I had something a bit different in mind to replace it. I knew we needed a flagship, a network home base, something akin to ESPN's Sports Center where viewers could go at the end of a the day for our comedic take on everything that happened in the last 24 hours….."a daily show". I had broad idea for it in my head. I would describe it as part "Weekend Update", part Howard Stern, with a dash of "The Today Show" on drugs complete with a bare boned format to keep costs low so we could actually afford to produce it. We could open with the headlines covering the day's events (our version of a monologue), followed by a guest segment (we wouldn't need to write jokes...only questions!), and finish with a taped piece. Simple, right? We just needed someone to help flesh out our vision.

Comedy Central was a a second tier cable channel then and considered a bit of a joke (no pun intended). It had minuscule ratings, no heat and even less money to spend. Producers were not lining up to work with there. Eileen Katz ran programming for the channel and the two of us began pitching this idea to every producer who would listen. One of the first people we approached was Madeleine Smithberg, an ex Letterman producer and had overseen "The Jon Stewart Show" for us at MTV. We thought she was perfect for the role. “You can’t do this, you can’t afford this, you don't have the stomach for this, it will never work ” Madeliene said when we met with her. We could not convince her to take the gig. Ok then....we moved on. The problem was we heard that same refrain from everybody. No one wanted the job. So after weeks being turned down by literally EVERYONE, I said to Eileen: “We have to go back to Madeleine and convince her to do this with us"!

Part our pitch to her was we would go directly to series. There would be no pilot. The show was guaranteed to go on air. We had decided this show was our to be our destiny and we had to figure it out come hell or high water. As a 24 hour comedy channel, if we couldn't figure out a way to be funny and fresh every day...what good were we? We told Madeliene we were committed to putting the show on the air and keeping it there till we got it right (for at least a year anyway). That, plus some gentle arm twisting got her to sign on. Shortly after that, Lizz Winstead did too.

Madleiene and Lizz very quickly landed on their inspired notion of developing the show and format as a news parody. It brought an immediate focus and a point of view to the process . All of the sudden things started to take shape and coming to life. Great ideas started flowing fast and furious while an amazing collection of funny and talented began to come on board. Madeliene and Lizz were off to the races. Now all we needed was a host.

The prime time version of ESPN's Sports Center was hosted by Dan Patrick and Keith Olbermann back then and it was must see cable TV. But I had recently started to notice another guy hosting the show's late night edition. He was funny, with a snarky delivery reminiscent of Dennis Miller. His name was Craig Kilborn. On the phone with CAA agent Jeff Jacobs one day, I asked if he knew happened to know who repped him? “I do" he said. "We just signed him”. Within days he was in my office along with Madeleine, Lizz, and Eileen who were all a bit skeptical about the tall blond guy with the frat boy vibes sitting across from them. After opening the meeting with a few off color comments that would probably get him cancelled today (an early warning sign fo sure), Craig ultimately won them over and we had our host.

FUN FAC#1: Minutes after the news of Craig's hiring went public, Keith Olberman's agent called me directly to ask why we hadn't considered hiring him?

Ok, we had a host and producers...but what to call it? After sifting through dozens of ideas for a title, Madeleine called me one day and said, "I think we should just call it what we've been calling it all along...."The Daily Show". As we approached our launch date we taped practice shows and took them out to focus groups to get real life feedback. The groups hated it.... I mean with a red hot hate. They hated Craig, the format, the jokes, everything. We were crushed and dejectedly looked around at the room at one another. "Now what?" “Either they’re wrong, or we are". I said I think they are...but it doesn’t matter, we're doing this!" We never looked back.

The show took off quickly garnering some quick buzz and attention, we felt like we had crashed the party. Well, sort of. We had no shortage of fun, growing pains and drama along the way. The Daily Show version 1.0 was about to unravel. In a December 1997 magazine interview Craig made some truly offensive and inappropriate remarks about Lizz and female members of the staff. Whether it was poor attempt at humor or just plain misogynist (or both) is beyond the point. It was all wrong, very wrong. Craig was suspended for a week without pay. Lizz left the show. In the moment I chose to protect the show and its talent more so than Lizz. That was wrong too. It's more than cringe worthy looking back now, and I regret not making some better decisions then. My loyalty to our host was later "rewarded" when in the Spring of 1998 Kilborn's team, a la Bill Maher, unceremoniously informed us he had signed a deal to follow Letterman on CBS when his contract expired at the end of the year. No discussion, a done deal. Comedy Central jilted again. Like Maher, Kilborn wanted his shot at the network big leagues and we had a little over six months to figure out how to replace him. We all know how that chapter ended. That search would eventually reunite us with Jon Stewart who along with The Daily Show took Comedy Central and basic cable to the "the big leagues" on their own terms, redefining late night comedy in the process The rest, as they say, is "Fake News" history.

Fun Fact #2: before approaching Jon (who I did not originally think would be interested) I initially offered the job to a chunkier, largely unknown Jimmy Kimmel, fresh off his co hosting duties on "Win Ben Stein's Money" ...only to have him turn us down.

My fascination with late night began as a kid. I remember how exciting it was to stay up to sneak a peek at the Carson monologue and watch him do spit takes with his chummy Hollywood guests. Later on I also loved the heady adult conversation Dick Cavett would have with everyone from Sly Stone to Groucho Marx. But it was the comedic revolution of Saturday night Live in 1975, followed by Letterman's game changing show in 1981 that truly established late night as the coolest place on the television landscape. I could only dream of one day being part of it.

25 years on, I couldn’t be more proud of The Daily Show and its legacy. Those days helping build it alongside Madeleine, Lizz, Eileen and the team were among the most satisfying (and fun) experiences I have ever had. It was thrilling to take a shot at the late night landscape and try and make our mark, especially when no one thought we could.

I am prouder still of what Trevor Noah and his staff have achieved since they took the hand off from Jon, evolving and growing the show through a new voice and lens. I think my personal "Moment Of Zen" will last as long as Trevor remains behind the desk, allowing me to selfishly boast of having hired every host this award winning and culture defining franchise has ever had.

25 years later. it remains as relevant as ever, a bona fide late night institution, standing shoulder to shoulder with all the great shows that inspired us to start.

#the daily show #jon stewart #trevor noah #comedy central

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toshootforthestars · 3 years ago

Link

From the report by Beth Mole, posted 19 July 2021:

Fully vaccinated people are largely protected from delta; the current vaccines are still highly effective against developing COVID-19 from delta and other variants of concern. Though a small proportion of people can develop so-called “breakthrough infections,” those infections will mostly be asymptomatic or mild. But, unvaccinated people are completely vulnerable. Moreover, those who have received only one dose of a two-dose vaccine or have only recovered from COVID-19 are not much better off than those who are completely unvaccinated.

But according to new polling data from CBS News, a new wave of vaccinations seems unlikely. Among unvaccinated and partly vaccinated people, only 48% said they are concerned about delta. Among fully vaccinated people, 72% reported being concerned about the variant.

Despite the fact that the current COVID-19 vaccines have proven highly effective and safe, 53% of those who are unvaccinated or partly vaccinated said in the poll that they are concerned about side effects. 50% of the group cited a lack of trust in the government as a reason not to get vaccinated. And 45% said they don’t trust the science. All of these percentages are higher than they have been in earlier polls, indicating that these anti-vaccine sentiments are hardening among the unvaccinated.

Some unvaccinated people who may be more persuadable have said they are waiting for the vaccines to receive full approval from the Food and Drug Administration (currently, they are authorized by the FDA under an emergency use authorization). On Friday, Pfizer and BioNTech said that the FDA had granted them a Priority Review designation for their mRNA vaccine, but they didn’t expect a decision on full approval until January 2022. Currently, vaccine providers are administering only around 520,000 COVID-19 vaccine per day, down from a record of 4.6 million in a day in April.

With over 161 million people vaccinated, only 48.6% of the US population is fully vaccinated.

See also: How much COVID misinformation is on Facebook? Its execs don’t want to know

For years, misinformation has flourished on Facebook. Falsehoods, misrepresentations, and outright lies posted on the site have shaped the discourse on everything from national politics to public health. But despite their role in facilitating communications for billions of people, Facebook executives refused to commit resources to understand the extent to which COVID-19-related misinformation pervaded its platform, according to a report in The New York Times.

Early in the pandemic, a group of data scientists at Facebook met with executives to propose a project that would determine how many users saw misleading or false information about COVID. It wasn’t a small task—they estimated that the process could take up to a year or more to complete—but it would give the company a solid understanding of the extent to which misinformation spread on its platform.

The executives listened to the data scientists’ pitch and then reportedly ghosted them.

The data team’s proposal wasn’t approved, and they were never given an explanation for why it was silently dropped.

The revelations come as Facebook has drawn fire from the White House for its role in the spread of misinformation about COVID-19 and the vaccines that prevent it. “They’re killing people,” President Joe Biden said about the role of social networks in the spread of misinformation. “Look, the only pandemic we have is among the unvaccinated. They’re killing people.”

Biden later walked back his comments slightly, but they revealed the administration’s frustration with social media platforms—and with Facebook in particular—over their response to the pandemic.

For weeks, the White House pressed Facebook for details on how the company is combating COVID vaccine misinformation. The social network offered some details but gave unsatisfying answers to other requests.

Facebook’s unwillingness or inability to understand the scope of COVID misinformation on its platform was apparent in comments it gave to The New York Times, in which it blamed its nescience on the lack of a “standard definition” for pandemic-related misinformation. “The suggestion we haven’t put resources toward combating COVID misinformation and supporting the vaccine rollout is just not supported by the facts,” said Dani Lever, a Facebook spokeswoman.

“With no standard definition for vaccine misinformation, and with both false and even true content (often shared by mainstream media outlets) potentially discouraging vaccine acceptance, we focus on the outcomes—measuring whether people who use Facebook are accepting of COVID-19 vaccines.”

For researchers who study misinformation, that explanation isn’t sufficient. “They need to open up the black box that is their content ranking and content amplification architecture,“ Imran Ahmed, chief executive of the Center for Countering Digital Hate, told The New York Times. “Take that black box and open it up for audit by independent researchers and government. We don’t know how many Americans have been infected with misinformation.”

Me:

This situation is extremely bad!

First off, the individuals that aren’t getting vaccinated just do not care to. They’ve bought hook line and sinker into all the disinfo and misinfo on facebook, instagram, youtube, tiktok, reddit, and/or whatever 8chan replacement one choosed. What they see and read reinforces their pre-conceived (and factually incorrect) views that “experts” “really don’t know shit about anything” and thusly are “blowing things way the fuck outta proportion,” etc. Their views are both informed by, and reinforced by:

what they read and see online

what they hear on FM/AM radio

what they watch on broadcast TV

what their friends and communities consume from media

what the prevailing societal and political attitudes in one’s community are

“rugged individualism” and the post-1980 erosion of the social contract

So, if your fb friends are covid truthers, if the on-air personalities you hear on the radio at work are covid truthers, if your neighbors and friends at werk are covid truthers, if the elected leaders are covid truthers, if the snippets of Fox News you get to see randomly are pushing covid truther disinfo, and if those in your inner circle at that 4th of July party you went to are covid truthers, then you yourself, at a minimum from peer pressure, will dismiss the recommendations of the American Academy of Pediatrics, the American Medical Association, scores of hospital operators, plus countless professionals in medicine and epidemiology in your decision not to get vaccinated, nor to mask up indoors in public even when “recommended”.

“I have rights. I know what’s really going on. I’ve got things figured out.” Or, at a minimum, “I don’t give a fuck either way.” “Fuck you.”

Facebook absolutely is responsible for the covid truther disinfo and misinfo being shared on their platform. I believe they are the largest vector of disinformation and misinformation to the public. So many people are chugging the “vaccines are a scam, masks don’t work and I have rights” kool-aid thanks to disinfo introduced and shared widely on facebook

Some other major vectors of disinfo: iHeartMedia - Premiere Networks - iHeartRadio, Entercom/Audacy, Westwood One, One America News, Fox News, Newsmax, Sinclair Broadcast Group, YouTube + Google, TikTok, and Reddit.

“I saw a video on YouTube where the military did a study…” or “I heard a guy on the radio saying mask mandates are part of a plot…” It's all bullshit!

At this point it cannot be anything but an active choice the leadership at these companies consciously make to pipe out total bullshit in a time of crisis. Content from all of the above easily makes its way to facebook, too, unrestricted!

The U.S continues to spiral into this post fact, post truth, anti-intellectual, anti-science neo-fascist hellscape where no lives matter and where mass death is AOK because “none of us get out of this world alive” or some asshat folksy quip that masks as wisdom. Empathy, reasoning, established facts and observable reality have all become political statements… People hear what they want to hear.

IMO this is truly a disastrous situation with no easy way out.

Many, many people will not wear masks again. Many, many people see the survival rate for coronavirus and they surmise wrongly that the risk for them of getting covid is worth it, that the risk for others isn’t remotely their concern, and that the entire situation is overblown. The social contract is in bad shape. Public confidence in the state is almost gone. Covid truthers are everywhere.

Getting a vaccine requires time off from work to travel to a mass vax site that’s still open, time off to recoup post-shot (if necessary), and overcoming fear that the anti-vax disinfo on social media was true after all. Plus overcoming peer pressure from unvaccinated friends and family.

Covid case numbers are likely undercounts. Test kits are still problematic. Persons with no health insurance have no PCP to call when they get sick. Underinsured persons may have to wait weeks for their approved PCP to get around to a telehealth call. Many people are getting sick and not getting tested and they’re not reporting anything to anyone. State officials, wanting to look good, may skew whatever data is reported to them.

COVID-19 is an airborne virus. Most people catch covid from contagious asymptomatic people. Coronavirus has always been a risk for children! Getting vaccinated is part of an overall good strategy to keep COVID-19 at bay. Masks work!!! If indoors, stay in a ventilated room if you’re with other people, and keep doors and windows open for air circulation. Coronavirus is producing extremely serious long-term cognitive and cardiovascular complications for many people who survive it. “Long covid” is real.

We don’t have to live with this! The political and business leadership in much of the United States today have collectively decided there’s nothing that can or should be done in regards to covid-19, no masking requirements, no easy supplies of N95 masks, and no mitigation efforts of any kind. They wrongly conclude that COVID-19, a new virus with so many unknowns, “isn’t that bad” and so the level of permanent damage or death resulting from covid is acceptable.

None of this is acceptable, the amount of permanent damage and death occurring from COVID-19 is far, far too high, and there’s no rational excuse whatsoever to allow this virus to spread across this country unchecked. There’s no reason to allow this virus to spread further. There’s no valid reason for me and anyone else to justify allowing covid to spread out of control.

#news #coronavirus #third wave #covid vaccine #facebook sucks #please get vaccinated #misinformation #disinformation #america 2021 #rant #ars technica #vaccine hesitancy #anti vaxxer #things are going swimmingly #long post

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jenniboo311 · 4 years ago

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GQ: Spider-Man Goes Undercover on Reddit, YouTube, and Twitter

GQ: Spider-Man Goes Undercover on Reddit, YouTube, and Twitter by jenniboo311

Part 2 of the Social Butterfly Spidey series General | 4115 Words | Chapter 1/1

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The video opens with Spider-Man sitting at a table with only his torso visible, the set background a solid sky blue. He is wearing his signature mask and a simple white t-shirt, forearms bare and defined with lean muscle. He gives the camera a jaunty two fingered salute.

"Hey I'm Spider-Man," he begins in a friendly voice as he flips open the lid of the laptop in front of him decisively, "And I'm going undercover on the internet." The video cuts to a title screen as it types out "Actually Me with Spider-Man" as Spider-Man says off screen, "It's actually me!"

The screen then clears and types out a new message for its audience, "We had Spider-Man create real accounts and go undercover online."

"Let's begin!" He says as the camera cuts back to him typing into the laptop. The video shows his screen as he is typing his username and password into YouTube. Once the site logs in he selects his display picture, a cheeky shot a fan must have captured as Spider-Man swung past upside-down. "First up, let's take ourselves to YouTube."

A brief clip plays from a seven and a half minute humorous compilation of Spider-Man saves, cutting back and forth between impressive confrontations against dangerous criminals with firearms to sweetly helping older ladies with their groceries.

"From user SkepticalOfSpidey, she says," he narrates the comment as it is displayed on screen, "'Is this guy for real? How can a superhero go from dodging bullets to carrying groceries? Like how is this even on his radar? Does he actually care or is this some kind of PR stunt?'"

The video cuts to Spider-Man who replies vehemently, "I absolutely care! And I think it's hysterical people consider me "above" certain things, or they're not worthy of being on my "radar", as though I'm some hotshot. Look, the Avengers are great with the big world ending stuff, and sometimes I'm part of that too, but the little guys need help too, day to day. I'm the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and no matter who you are, your race, your age, your sexuality, your income, whether you're a victim of a mugging or a kitten in a tree, you all deserve help when you need it. That's my personal mission, just to help people. So as long as I'm doing that I'm not ashamed."

The video cuts to show the end of his response being typed out on screen and Spider-Man hits the "Comment" button to post his answer.

Another short clip plays of footage from the scene of a crime where Spider-Man is knocking out a hulking goon in one hit, displaying his super strength. The subsequent comment is displayed on screen as Spider-Man reads it aloud, "'oh great, just what we need: another brawny idiot that uses his fists to solve problems. What we really need is intelligence. Can we get more scientists please?'"

Spider-Man reels back in his chair a little, seemingly taken aback. "Wow! Why are you so angry-" he consults the laptop again for the username, "Chelsea?" He shifts in the chair to get comfortable before responding, "First of all, another? I'm offended on behalf of my teammates. All of the people I work with are very intelligent, so I'm not sure where she's getting that you have to be an idiot if you have muscles. Secondly, I am a scientist, actually. I specialize in biochemistry, though I also dabble in engineering, physics, and programming. I have an IQ upwards of 250, which if you want to compare to the likes of Tony Stark, is around 270, who also kicks ass by the way."

He straightens his shirt indignantly, "Though hopefully I didn't give too much away with that. My point is," he points at the camera, "you can have both brawn and brains. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise, people. Defy the societal norms."

The comment section displays on screen again and scrolls down the page until it hits another comment. "'How strong is Spider-Man?'" He lounges back in his chair and taps the fingers of his right hand on the table idly, "Well, last we checked I could bench press about ten tons. Tony and I ran some tests about eight months ago to find out, so it could have changed since then but likely not by a large amount. So I'm going to say ten tons, give or take."

Another video clip plays that shows Spider-Man swinging confidently on his web before suddenly taking a wrong turn and eating billboard. The jarring collision dislodges his grip and he falls several feet to land on a garbage bin, whose lid caves in immediately under his weight. He reads aloud, "'Ouch. I wonder how that felt.'" Spider-Man laughs quietly, not afraid to laugh at himself. "To be honest with you Joshua, it did not feel good. That billboard actually broke my nose, though the garbage bin helped break some of the fall. There's definitely worse things I could have landed on. I don't get distracted often but it still happens sometimes. Web slinging is hard, okay?!

"Wikipedia!" he says off screen, as the visual on screen shows Spider-Man logging in to the Wikipedia webpage with the username, '[email protected]'.

"Let's see here," Spider-Man says before devolving into mumbles as he reads the information supplied on the website about himself. "Wait wait wait!" He exclaims after a moment and quotes the offending fact, "'His signature weapon is his webbing, which is created biologically and dispensed from a gland in his wrists at the base of his palms.'" The text in question displays on screen and zooms in on the text, "biologically", and then, "gland in his wrists".

"First of all, gross." Spider-Man rests his forehead in his hand, propped on the table with his elbow in a perfect picture of disappointment. "Second of all," he sits up straight and addresses the camera full on, "have you all actually been thinking I've been spurting real webs out of my hands at everything for the past few years?!" After a beat he processes what he has just said and facepalms while mumbling, "Spurting, oh God I regret my word choice."

The video cuts to the text being backspaced as Spider-Man narrates offscreen, "This is incorrect, let's delete it!"

The video cuts back to Spider-Man reaching below the table, leaning slightly to the left to dig something out of his right pants pocket, sighing heavily. He pulls out two simple black bracelets which he pointedly holds up for the camera before slipping them on. "Web shooters: 101," he says before deliberately knocking his wrists together so the bracelets make contact and activate. "Now obviously Tony Stark has gotten his hands on these and they are a little different than the originals, as you can tell by the nano technology," he explains, black colored metal creeping up his forearms to encase them in a type of bracer, "but the base mechanism is still the same as what I designed from the beginning." The nano technology finishes covering his forearms, the device quite noticeable with the stark black of the metal covering the majority of his pale exposed forearms. He flicks his hands back, palms facing upwards to show the camera, as the motion triggers a small device to deploy in the center of his palms. He reaches into his pocket once more and retrieves a couple small cylindrical cartridges filled with a milky fluid which he then deftly loads into the devices at his wrists.

"In a nutshell: web shooter," he holds up his left forearm to present the whole device to the audience. "The trigger," he presents the small button resting in his palm, "and web fluid," he continues, indicating the cartridge now inserted below his wrist. He points to a spot at the base of his palm, "They got the location of the dispenser right, I guess, but it's not coming out of a gland of any kind!" He aims carefully just past the camera and shoots a quick burst by depressing the button at his palm that makes the viewer feel as though he is shooting it at them. "I developed this formula myself, in a lab, with chemicals!" He emphasizes. "It's completely synthetic, not biological by any means, and nobody had to milk me for it." He pauses, staring at the camera for a moment before looking down at the table and murmuring uncomfortably while shaking his head, "That was a strange sentence I never want to repeat." He huffs a quiet laugh.

"Quora!" Spider-Man says as the onscreen graphic shows Spider-Man logging into the website with his fake email. "What the heck is Quora? I have no idea but let's get into it.

"'How is Spider-Man such a darling? He's so sweet and wholesome and is a big, soft, cinnamon roll'," he narrates as the question displays on screen. He shifts around awkwardly and scratches the side of his head, "Aw, I dunno! But thanks Quora, you're my new favorite website.

"'How many people has Spider-Man killed?'" He narrates as the question displays on screen. "Wow guys, that's dark!" He leans forward and clasps his hands together to convey the seriousness of his response. "The answer is none. I haven't killed anyone nor do I intend to. Spider-Man is strictly nonlethal. I only use webs to detain, I don't use blades or guns of any kind. Except these guns." He lightens the mood by flexing his right arm and kissing his bicep. He holds it together for approximately two seconds before exploding in laughter. "Oh God, how do I have friends?" He mutters to himself.

"Next!" He exclaims, searching for the next question. "'Does Spider-Man wear a mask because he's disfigured?'" The question displays for the viewer to see. "Hmm, okay well the short answer is no. That's not why I wear a mask. I don't really know how to quantify my own attractiveness, that's just awkward. I think I'm perfectly average, though I've had people tell me I'm handsome. They were all terribly biased though, so take that with a grain of salt." Spider-Man's grin can be seen in the crinkling of the fabric around his mouth. "I have two eyes, a nose, a mouth, and completely normal teeth. No extra eyes or mandibles or anything. That may sound like a strange thing to say but you'd be surprised how many times I have to clarify that," He snorts. "I cover my face because dealing with so many street-level criminals puts me on the radar of a lot of people who want revenge against me and anybody I care about. So if my identity was known I'd have to constantly watch my back, and my loved ones would be in danger. Of course there are contingencies for if that happens but in the meantime I want as normal a life as possible for me and mine."

Spider-Man clicks away on the laptop until the next question displays on screen. "'Does Spider-Man give autographs and selfies?'" He narrates. "I do, but all I ask is that if you catch me out in the wild and I look busy or distracted, to please not bother me. Most times the people I save are a bit too traumatized to be thinking about getting my autograph at the moment, but if the night is slow or I'm taking a break I'm happy to give an autograph or take a photo with you if you ask. Your best bet is probably at fundraisers and charity events, if I am in attendance, since I'm not focused on crime fighting and am just interacting with people."

The next question displays on screen, "'Is Spider-Man single?'" The video cuts to Spider-Man shifting uncomfortably. "Uh, I'm not comfortable confirming that sort of thing. Like I said, people in my orbit are in danger so I don't want to bring any kind of attention to who I surround myself with, even if their names are as yet unknown. The less information going around about that the better. So all I'll say is that at the very least I am not looking for a relationship." He awkwardly clears his throat before moving on.

"'How strong are Spider-Man's webs?' Strong enough to restrain the Hulk. Seriously," he nods at the camera, "I know this for a fact. We, and by we I mean the Avengers and I, had a code green sometime last year and out of sheer desperation I let the webs fly. By the time I was done he was basically in a cocoon but hey, it worked! Hulk looked pretty cozy actually." His eye lenses squint in amusement.

"Now let's go to Facebook," he says as the video shows him logging into Facebook and selecting a new profile picture, a closeup of Spider-Man shooting the camera finger guns.

"'Who would win in a race between Spider-Man and Captain America?'" He claps his hands together once in excitement, "Me! Because I'm obviously superior to Cap in every way!" He barks out a laugh and mumbles, "He'll let me have it for that comment! No I'm joking, Cap is awesome. I'm actually not lying though. We had a race, because science, and I clocked in at about two hundred miles per hour while Steve maxed at about seventy. Nothing to sneeze at of course, but not quite up to Spidey's par!" He gives another cheesy arm flex, this time with both arms. The video cuts to Spider-Man typing out the last of his answer and finishes it with two flex emojis before submitting it.

"'Do you think Spider-Man has any hidden talents?'" He looks seriously into the camera. "Well if I told you, they wouldn't be secret talents anymore, now would they Gerald?" He cocks his head to the side in thought. "I guess I can tell you that I can dance? I took dance and gymnastics for awhile when I was a kid, which is probably why I'm so agile and acrobatic now. My enhancement made me even more agile and acrobatic, but it was already there to some degree to begin with." He gives a careless shrug.

"'Coffee or tea?' Well I try not to drink either of them to be honest. Caffeine and spiders don't mix! Sometimes I can't avoid it though, lots of late nights being Spider-Man, so in those cases I drink coffee. Funny trivia for you, but I used to love lemonade. I must have inherited some spidery traits because lemon is a deterrent and I can't tolerate it now. I mean it won't kill me, I just find it unpleasant. Don't want criminals thinking they can spray me with lemon juice or something. I'll just be annoyed and smell funky fresh while I kick your ass." His eye lenses squint as his mask crinkles around the mouth. "My beverage of choice is actually apple juice, because I'm twelve years old." He snickers and hits the submit button to post his answer, complete with a baby emoji.

"'How are you doing? Are you getting enough sleep? Do you need a hug?'" He shifts forward to prop his chin on his hand. "I'm doing good, thank you for asking. I am absolutely not getting enough sleep, but neither is anyone else I know so I'm in good company. And I absolutely need a hug. I love giving people hugs and will one hundred percent hug you if you ask me to and I'm not busy. There's lots of Spidey to go around, I love each and every one of you."

He reads the next question silently first and barks a laugh before narrating, "'What even is your life?' Dude, I have no idea. If you had told young Spidey that one day he'd be flipping all over the city fighting crime and battling aliens with a superpowered team of highly skilled famous individuals he'd probably check you for fever and then back away slowly.

"Up next, Instagram! I know all about Instagram, I use it all the time." The video shows him once again logging into the website

"'Does anyone else desperately want a reality TV show with Spidey and the other Avengers? I would kill to watch hours of Spidey being a sarcastic little shit to bank robbers and Tony Stark just being a mess.'" Spider-Man laughs. "Wellllll," he hedges, "you might not have to wait that long. I've been toying with the idea of creating a YouTube channel and posting some shenanigans on there. Now, mind you, it won't be expertly edited or anything, I really don't have the time for that, but it would be something. Keep an eye out for that soon."

The video next displays a picture on Instagram that a fan had posted of a young Spider-Man from his early days coming out of a porta-potty with a string of toilet paper streaming off the bottom of his boot. The comment reads, "'Check out this disaster. What is going on here?'" Spider-Man looks straight at the camera, unimpressed, and deadpans, "Everybody poops, Deborah."

He navigates to the next picture, which is of a kneeling Spider-Man getting mauled by an enthusiastic, fluffy golden retriever. "'Was he a good doggo?'" He reads aloud. "He was best boy. What a good doggo!" He grins big through his mask.

"Now here we go to Twitter," he says as he logs in and selects a profile picture. "This is probably the social media I use the most. I'm thinking about deleting the app off my phone for a little while though, it's starting to consume my life. It's nice being able to connect to the public with it but I'm starting to find it difficult because people get so disappointed when I have to step away. Saying no to people is hard! And I have an extremely busy life so I can't keep this up forever. I've got cats to cuddle and lives to save! Gonna have to dial it back a bit I think."

The screen displays a tweet from user EmmaRox as Spider-Man reads it aloud, "'Do you think the abs are real or does he pad his suit?'" Spider-Man snorts and slaps his chest in mirth. "Well I would think that the fact I can lift a bus is proof enough, but here you go," he says and lifts his shirt to expose his impressively sculpted abs for just a moment before dropping his shirt and shaking his head in embarrassment. "Not padded."

The video cuts to the next question as he reads, "'What do you do in your free time?'" He looks at the camera and his left eye lens shifts as though he has furrowed his eye brow. "Free time? What's that?" He snorts, "No seriously, there's not much of that to go around. If I'm not on patrol or sleeping or training, I'm trying to keep up with my personal relationships and trying not to spend all my remaining time in the lab, with or without Tony. Like I said before, I'm a scientist, so a lot of my downtime is devoted to developing better tech, and to research to advance in these areas." He dramatically sweeps his hand across the top of his head as though he is a diva flipping long hair over his shoulder as he announces, "I'm not just a pretty face, you know." The video cuts to Spidey typing out the end of his answer, finishing it off with a queen emoji.

"'What's the best piece of advice you've ever been given?'" Displays the next question from user, David P. "That's a good question, David. Hmm," he strokes his chin thoughtfully, "I would have to say 'With great power, comes great responsibility'. It was advice given to me by one of the two most important people in my life, and I have carried that motto in my heart ever since. It was advice that ultimately lead to the creation of Spider-Man, actually. I have these fantastic powers, so I consider it my responsibility to do something good with them." He wrings his hands together at what looks to be an uncomfortable topic for him to speak about. After a beat he continues his answer, "The second best advice I've ever gotten, however, was 'It is better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring', which you'll also notice I take very seriously in that I am incredibly ridiculous. I mean if there's a person out there who spouts more bad puns in the face of danger than me, I haven't heard of them." He quietly snickers to himself.

"'If you had to choose three adjectives to describe yourself what would they be?'" He doesn't hesitate when he rattles off, "Genius, witty, humble." He stares at the camera seriously for a moment before he cracks and laughs. "No seriously, uh, probably awkward, smartass, and nerdy." He shrugs for lack of a better answer.

"Reddit!" He says as he logs into the page and selects a display picture of Spider-Man facepalming.

"'Do you have any pets?'" Spider-Man reads. "No. My apartment doesn't allow pets, sadly, but I love animals. And actually I do hang out with Tony a lot and I have to constantly make sure he's fed and watered because he forgets, so I feel like that's close enough." He covers his mouth with a hand to hold in his snort but a strangled one escapes anyway.

The next post shows a piece of fan artwork that is poor quality and is obviously from an inexperienced child. It depicts a heroically posed Spider-Man saving a young boy from a burning apartment complex window. The young artist in question posted the caption, "'I know it's not any good but spiderman saved me and my mom from a fire. I really want to say thank you so I drew him this picture. If anyone gets the chance to talk to spiderman can you please show him this and tell him I love him?'" Spider-Man looks at the picture on the laptop for a long moment and audibly takes several loud swallows. He looks at the camera and says hoarsely, "I love you too, bud. And I'm glad you're doing okay. It was my absolute pleasure to help you that day and I'm so glad I was there. I love your drawing and I think you're so very talented. I'm going to print this out and post it on my fridge so I can see it everyday and think of you. Study hard in school and be good for your mom!" He looks down at his lap and clears his throat, filling with emotion. After a moment he looks up and clasps his hands.

"That's it! We're done!" He says as he shuts the laptop with a snap and his eye lenses squint in a smile. "I hope you enjoyed watching and learning a little bit about me. See you around!"

The video fades to the GQ logo before ending.

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

Comments: ----------------

magicalbluecookies omg that last one killed me. Spidey got all choked up Friedfishcat I live for Spidey telling us he loves us. I stan a Spiderboi not afraid of his emotions. kitty22803 Am I the only one who took a screenshot of his abs? TeamIronDad Bahahaha subtly roasting cap and iron man. I wanna be a fly on the wall of their common room, I bet they're all hilarious to watch together lovelyjourneys Does this cinnamon roll ever rest? He needs a nap! And some milk or something! saucysquatch "Everybody poops, Deborah." Dumbledork I will die if he actually makes a youtube channel, please actually make this a thing! enchanted_nightingale Nooooooo dont delete twitter! kim_cc I once got a hug from spidey!! I was crying after he saved me from almost getting hit by a car and he asked if i needed a hug. It was the best hug of my life. Isi1dur Spidey is 12 years old confirmed, someone call the press xoxheartErin Spidey, post a video of you dancing!!! Proof or it didn't happen! Slyrocker Spiderman is asked how's he's such a soft cinnamon roll, proceeds to then prove he's a soft cinnamon roll Hi NOBODY HAD TO MILK ME FOR IT UselessDiamond19 Holy crap his web shooters are so cool! chrissyglikesbooks 250?! His IQ is 250?! Einstein was 160!!!! I feel faint. amillionmiles Spidey eating that billboard is about how my week is going honestly Mira Spidey is such a smart boi! He's going to make a great husband when I marry him.

TotallyNotDeadpool Well I guess this is all we have to live for now that you're out of the MCU

#fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman #social butterfly Spidey #social media #jenniboo311 #GQ #Reddit #Twitter #Quora #funny #humor #ao3 fanfic #Marvel #instagram #wikipedia #facebook #interview

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orangerosebush · 4 years ago

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“How does one describe Artemis Fowl?” Artemis Fowl, Book 1, Page 1.

Although this quote from the first series sets the tone of Artemis being a character who is loath to be understood, what with how he “delights in not talking” about how it is he perceives himself to truly be, I want to attempt to answer this rhetorical question. After all, the quote serves as a bookend for the series — both the first and final book contain it.

In answering this question, I want to not answer “how does one describe Artemis Fowl?” but rather, “what is Artemis Fowl?” — the series, that is. I think now is a good time to answer this question, what with the first cycle of the series, the Artemis Fowl saga, being complete and the second cycle, the Fowl twins saga, beginning. In short, I want to ask: what context surrounds the book series being published? What are some important themes to the series? And what gives the book series its spark?

I first have to start this video essay by admitting that I was wrong in another essay: “A look into the role of Irish mythology as inspiration for Colfer's depiction of the People: an essay”. You can find this on fanfiction.net or on archive of our own under works by mentosmorii, by the way. The synopsis I provided for the essay is as follows: “Although Colfer has stated before that he has drawn from his knowledge of Irish mythology, he has never stated specifically which myths informed his writing. As someone with a bit of a background in Irish mythology, I have made a guess at some of the sources of inspiration, explained a couple of references within the series, and analyzed a few characters as having connections to Irish history/mythology.”

A lot of the content in that essay is correct, I feel I should say. However, an area where I misstep is here: “ Eoin Colfer has been asked about the influence of Irish mythology on his writing during various interviews, and his response is usually a sort of permutation of the above answer — ‘I grew up reading Irish myths and legends, [and] I… put… a spin on them’ (Colfer). He admits that he was influenced by Irish mythology, and this admission of influence is usually enough to get interviewers to move along to the next question. I’ve looked through many of the interviews that he’s done, and I think I can say with confidence that there is not currently any interview available in which an interviewer presses him to be more specific and point to the myths and legends in question by which he was influenced. In all likelihood, I think that this is because once Colfer confirms that he did, in fact, take inspiration from Irish mythology, the interviewers think of pop culture Celtic mythology and move on”.

The assertion that I made that was incorrect is about the interviewer moving on due to a lack of visibility of Irish myths. However, you also have to look at when the first book was published, which was in 2001. During the 90s to the early 2000s, Ireland was going through something called the “Celtic tiger”, which essentially means that there was an international market that was becoming quite interested in Irish culture, leading to the development of a new, commercially successful Celticism. Cormac MacRaois (pronounced: cormick Mccreesh) estimated, at the time of writing in 1997, that there were at least thirty books dedicated to the retellings of mythological tales on the children’s shelves of Irish bookshops, alongside a burgeoning quantity of contemporary fantasy drawing upon mythological sources for its characters and themes” (Irish Children’s Literature and Culture: New perspectives). Furthermore, in Mary Donohue’s unpublished 2003 MA thesis entitled “From Wexford to the arctic circle, a cultural journey”, she remarks that in a video interview, Colfer mentions that he had initially planned to publish a collection of Irish myths and legends, but that he abandoned this plan when he realized how many good collections were already in print (Donohoe, 2003, p. 24).

What I want to point out is that although the series was published at a time when there was increased interest in Irish mythology, it is interesting that Colfer deviates from the fairy tale and leans into the futuristic. What do I mean by this?

In many ways, the Artemis Fowl series, at least up until book 8, is more of a sci-fi than it is a fantasy. Which is a bold claim for me to make, I know!

However, a quote from book one in which Root is talking to Foaly as the LEP tries to plan how to get Holly back summarizes this seemingly paradoxical analysis of the series quite nicely: Science is taking the magic out of everything.

As Anna Bugajska (pronounced: ah-na boo-guy-ska) states in her essay "Human Magic", "Fairy Technology" : The Place of the Supernatural in the Age of Cyberculture, which is about the Artemis Fowl series: “Fairies deprived of natural wings use their artificial counterparts. Dwarves are practically walking machines. Invisibility is achieved by ‘shielding’. Artemis uses ‘human magic’ to heal a fairy [the sprite in Ho Chi Minh whom he gives a serum to help her alcohol dependence], but must rack his brains to escape ‘fairy technology’. The convergence point comes at the search for a Booke of Magick and at a failed Ritual performance… In the world where fairies rely on blasters and bio-bombs to take out their enemies, is there any place for good ol’ magic? Or is it by any chance homogenous with “man-made magic”, that is technology?”.

The fact that the people seem to rely more on technology than on magic is important to the parallels that the series establishes between humanity and the fae — in many ways, the two societies are two sides of the same coin. In many ways, you could even take Root’s comment about “Science taking the magic out of everything” as the same sort of thing your boss, or teacher, or any older person, really, might say when presented with new technology that they don’t quite yet understand. It seems like their society also suffers from the same anxieties older humans have about technology progressing and leaving previous generations in the dust.

The fact that the book series seems to be more of a sci-fi than a fantasy is important for two reasons, the first one of which is discussed in Elizabeth Parsons’ essay “Fowl Play: Artemis Fowl, Sitting Ducks, and politics for children” and the second of which is discussed in Patricia Kennan’s essay “Contemplating Otherness, imagining the future” . The first perspective, Parsons’, which I do agree with, is that the book brings up parallels between the People and humanity that suggest that the fairies are just as guilty of the environmental issues and social injustice that they like to critique humans for. The second perspective, which I do not necessarily fully agree with but that I find interesting, Kennan’s perspective, is on whether or not Artemis Fowl series “feels” Irish because of this emphasis on the sci-fi over the myth.

Let’s first address Parsons’ argument. Parsons argues that there is no real, discernible difference between the two worlds that share the planet — “Technological advances drive humanity’s destruction of the earth’s surface as much as they [drive] the spread of fairy civilization underground” (Parsons). In fact, Parsons points to the enormous sum of gold at the center of the conflict in book one as evidence that the People are not as innocent of this kind of environmental destruction as they would like to think. After all, you cannot mine gold from the earth without having some kind of negative impact on the planet. Whether it’s from how you might destabilize the ground as you mine, or the pollutants you may release, or even the effect that comes with removing the gold from its natural place in the earth, you cannot escape the fact that Faeries likely also have a history of troubling environmental impacts to answer for. There is also the fact that fairy society is *extremely* developed and industrialized. Just as how the presence of gold presents the question of how the People acquired that wealth, the technology the people have presents the question of how did they develop said tech. You can’t go from a building the wheel to building a neutrino gun — there was likely an industrial revolution in which the People engaged in unclean energy practices as they developed their understanding of how to engineer. And this concern is supported by the text!

In book one, Holly is talking about two mechanical wing types that the LEP uses — the older models called the Dragonflies and the newer models called the Hummingbirds. The book says the following: “Holly unhooked a set of wings from their bracket... Dragonflies. She hated that model. Gas engine, if you believe it... Now the Hummingbird Z7, that was transport. Whisper silent, with a satellite-bounced solar battery that would fly you twice around the world. But there were budget cuts again.” (pp. 50-51).

Perhaps the People may like to argue that they are more environmentally evolved than humanity, and sure, they are, but they’re far from being as innocent in the exploitation of earth than they’d like to think — they still use gas engines, after all!

But that’s just from an environmental point of view. Socially, there is also little difference between the progress of the People and humanity. Honestly, in some aspects, the people are farther behind, what with how Holly mentions being the first woman to be hired to her position even though the book opens at the start of the 21st century. And although Holly understands that others assuming she is less capable on the basis of her gender is both illogical and prejudiced, she herself falls into similar lines of thinking in books 1 and 2. She certainly makes some unkind assumptions regarding how she thinks her coworker Lilli, an attractive woman, was hired because the recruiter fancied Lili. Which, knowing the rather old-fashioned beliefs the LEP higher-ups have regarding women, could be the case! Yet the way she specifically talks about Lili makes it clear she does not see a potential ally against mistreatment in the office — Lili is someone who, in unkind moments, Holly privately kind of sees as an acceptable target of workplace gossip. And Holly, to be fair, grows out of this mindset by the final book — she still doesn’t like Lili, but she’s matured past the point of engaging in making harmful assumptions about her coworker.

And beyond this, Holly also in book one falls into patterns of making assumptions about the various different groups of fairies in Haven. For example, she implies in her first encounter with Mulch that his rapscallion behavior and petty crimes are kind of linked to the fact he’s dwarf. And she certainly doesn’t treat him well in book 1 — she zaps him when he makes a move to pick-pocket despite the fact the situation could have been de-escalated with initial action other than violence. Again, she moves beyond this way thinking by the final book. Yet the society the society she lived in, no matter how much she values things like justice and equality, still influenced her to make judgment calls that either are solely about another person’s identity, such as her comments about Lili, or that tie someone’s behavior to their identity, such as how she links Mulch’s behavior to the fact he is a dwarf. Holly isn’t the problem — the society is.

This is why you have Mulch’s later quote that “I’d rather trust a bunch of humans not to hunt a species to extinction than trust an LEP consultant” (177). Here, the first book kind of hits you over the head with the message: both of the societies, human and fairy, have issues of inequality and environmental abuse built into them. They both suck!

Holly, I think wakes up to this fact at the end of book 4 following the fact that Sool and the council valued money and power over bringing Opal to justice for her murder of Root. After this, she has a more nuanced perspective on ideas of justice and what means to want justice. A line that sticks out to me is from book 8 when she’s thinking about what she wants for Opal. She brings up the fact that at one point, she would have wanted Opal to suffer as she had. However, what Holly wants by the 8th book is for the suffering to stop, period. She doesn’t want to seek justice by humiliating or hurting Opal, what she wants is Opal to no longer be capable of hurting others. And this doesn’t mean that Holly no longer hates Opal, because she unequivocally does. But the cycle of Opal hurting others, the LEP hurting Opal, and then Opal coming back to enact vengeance again, and again, and again, is something that Holly wants to end. She no longer wants to engage in this cycle.

To circle back to my original point, this is why the series relying on sci-fi more than the more magical elements of fairy society is important: by showing us fairies that evolved past the role they would fill in myths, which is more nature-based, Colfer is able to talk about technology in human society, both good and bad, and human society itself, both good and bad. This different depiction of fairies and a more sci-fi plot was what made the story stand when it was being marketed, but it is also interestingly a point of criticism that is invoked when talking about whether or not the story “feel” Irish.

This is the second point of criticism that I discussed earlier is in Patricia Kennan’s essay “Contemplating Otherness, imagining the future”. She doesn’t think blending sci-fi and fantasy is negative — that would be an uncharitable reading of her essay. She even states in the essay that, “the most successful writers of science fantasy, however, have been able to stretch the parameters of both kinds of minds [the fantasy and technological], a feat to be admired”.

She talks about the blending of both mythic and realistic narratives, as well as that mixture’s popularity in recent Irish children’s science fiction. This idea of hybrid forces, the fantasy and the realistic, is attractive, she suggests, because of the chaos contained in their tension in the narrative. It’s for the same reason, perhaps, that fiction containing elements like vampires, that straddle the boundary between night and day, alive and dead, animal and human, is popular, as they contain interesting and allure characteristics while also being horrifying and repulsive.

(Side note: the idea of “otherness” and the human and the magical intersecting is very interesting as an aesthetic when one considers that one of the most influential vampire novels, Dracula, was written by an Irish author and that many of the aesthetics associated with Dracula also fit neatly with Artemis — this further underlines that he straddles the line between good and bad, human and magical, technology and fantasy in the way he seems to be a hybrid of gothic literature aesthetics dressed up in a modern, sci-fi package. I’m gonna end my sidenote here).

However, Kennan points to the plot and setting of the story as perhaps being why the series does feel very grounded in its Irish roots. The essay quotes Celia Keenan, saying: “all sense of the national and local have been eradicated [from the series]. Speech rhythms are entirely mid-Atlantic. No Hiberno-English or Wexford uses are evident. Landscape has become virtual”.

In some ways, I can see her point. Artemis Fowl is a very James Bond-type series in that it tries to invent settings rather than borrowing from existing reference points to place itself. A good example of this would be the fact that Fowl manor and Artemis’ school, Saint Bartleby’s, never are placed concretely within specific locations in Ireland. There might be a sense that Saint Bartleby’s is near Wexford or that the manor is near Dublin, but what proximity might mean (such as showing neighbors, classmates, and descriptions of the setting) is often avoided: the main characters and settings that are explored are often more international, such as Minerva and Spiro being French and American respectively, and the series often taking place in Haven or locations related to it. However, I think that there are at least some references that make the book still feel grounded as being Irish — I go into this in my other essay, but I can recap. There are specific references to Irish mythology and history, even if things like modern Irish history, side characters beyond the Butlers and Fowls that are Irish, and slang or dialect specific to different parts of Ireland aren’t referenced frequently.

So to summarize this point, the series does play with the trappings of a James Bond series in the sense that the setting bounces around enough that perhaps Ireland isn’t at the center always, and I think that this is a function of how Colfer writes sci-fi instead of something that destabilizes the sense of the where and when of the series. For instance, a big example of pop culture that Colfer references is the Matrix, albeit in a sneaky way. Celia Keenan (who is also quoted Kennon’s essay) wrote the article “Who’s afraid of the bad little Fowl?” which serves as a book review and a look into whether or not one could call the series ‘art’. When talking about references the book makes to pop culture, she writes: “It is possible that the film which has most influenced the ‘‘Fowl’’ books is The Matrix (1999). It depicts two worlds, the computer-controlled world of the matrix itself in which humans function as duped slaves, and the world of human resistance fighters who, like Colfer’s fairies, have been forced to create an alternative home called Zion, in the bowels of the earth. The term ‘‘recon unit’’, echoed in Colfer’s LEPrecon, figures in the Matrix. Colfer actually parodies quotations from The Matrix on a few occasions. For example, in The Matrix one of the characters says to the hero, ‘‘Buckle your seat belt, Dorothy, because Kansas is going ‘bye bye’’’; likewise, Root says to Artemis, ‘‘Hate to tell you this, Dorothy, but you ain’t in Kansas anymore’, in Artemis Fowl: the Arctic Incident (p. 63). Another Matrix quip—‘‘never send a human to do a machine’s job’’ (Wachowski, 1999), is parodied by Mulch: ‘‘Tell Foaly not to send a Mud Man to do a fairy’s job’’. In this instance, the narrator emphasizes the cinematic origins of the quotation: ‘‘‘Oh dear,’ thought Artemis, rubbing his brow, ‘Hollywood had a lot to answer for’’’(Colfer, 2002, p. 208).”

The creators of the Matrix, the Wachowski sisters, were pretty influenced by a philosopher named Jean Baudrillard (pronounced: Bow-dree-ard), even if Baudrillard didn’t particularly think their work was grounded in his theory. Baudrillard was undeniably a smart man, but he was also kind of a prick. Make of that what you will. But for those who aren’t familiar with his work or the Matrix itself, these works deal with themes of technology, reality, and the future of our society. To go back to Artemis Fowl, I think the series engages with these themes through both the allusion to Matrix and through the themes of the series itself. Although the series of Artemis Fowl many not engage specifically with many of Baudrillard’s theories, it does engage with similar philosophical concepts about sci-fi and the self.

One particular example of this is how the series (maybe unintentionally) engages with Gilbert Ryle, who was a British philosopher, and his concept of ‘mind-body-dualism’; Ryle came up with the idea of human existence being the tale of ‘a ghost within a machine’, or our sense of self-existing in a separate, physical shell. To simplify, this essentially points out the fact that what we view as being our “us”, our personalities, our inner thoughts, our perception of ourselves, is often separate from our bodies — when I think of who “I” am, I think of my “mind” rather than “body”, and this is exactly what the dualism Ryle pointed out gets at. Often, sci-fi seeks to explore what if this barrier dissolved — such as what if with the evolution of the mind, there was also an evolution of the body, and whether this could be achieved through things like AI, cyborgs, and so on. To go back to Anna Bugajska’s work, she wrote an essay entitled “Artemis Fowl: Posthumanism for teens” that tackles this within the series.

Which admittedly is a bit of a mouthful of a title! It sounds complicated — and it is, it definitely is.

But it is interesting. To go back to the idea of transformation and Artemis Fowl, the series deals with this theme quite a bit. To quote Bugajska: “What naturally could develop into a coming-of-age cycle, swerves into the direction of a transformation, calling into question human nature and individual identity in the age of the morphological freedom, mind uploads, bioengineering, and hybronauts…[the series explores ideas of transformation as a result of a desire to seek previously unaccessible power, but it also explores the idea in the context of the mind and body becoming one in how an impact one must result in an impact of the other].

A prominent example of those who went too far in their quest for [transformative] perfection are Briar Cudgeon, an LEP officer, and Opal Koboi, a genius pixie inventor. Cudgeon, embittered by professional conflict, sought the cognitive enhancement through the use of drugs. As a result, “the tranquilizer had reacted badly with some banned mind- accelerating substances the former acting-commander had been experimenting with. Cudgeon was left with a forehead like melted tar... Ugly and demoted, not a great combination” (Colfer 2003a: 77). [In this case, his desire for power causes his downfall, such as how he tried to enhance his abilities past his limit with the mind-accelerating drug that ended up reacting with the tranquilizer. However, this is also an example of the barrier between the body and the mind dissolving, as Cudgeon’s internal ‘ugliness’, such as his hunger for power, deceitfulness, and disregard for others’, is reflected in his physical form through his overindulgence in substances he uses to try to get around his natural limits.]

In the case of Opal Koboi, we can observe a conscious attempt to transform from one being to another. She has her pointy ears operated upon to give them human shape. What is more, she implants in her brain a human pituitary gland to provoke the secretion of the growth hormone (Colfer 2005: 173–174). She even goes as far as extracting substances from various animals to enhance her magic (Colfer 2011a: 263, 270). All these attempts in the end cost her her sanity (Colfer 2012: 36) and her magic powers, which is especially well visible in the fourth book of the cycle, Opal Deception (Colfer 2005: 329).

On the other hand, the changes in identity must necessarily be reflected in the alterations of at least some parts of the body. Thus, Artemis’s father, a former criminal boss, loses his leg [as he undergoes a sort of transformation after the deal Artemis holds in order to rescue his father from a hostage situation. Beforehand, he might have been a cruel, distant father, but now he has changed. He has become a new man, and in doing so, his body has been altered as well in the loss of a leg and the gaining of a prosthesis] (Colfer 2003b: 80–81). Artemis himself, as he grows from a calculating rationalist to a globally-responsible, empathic man, earns a few body modifications. And although he does not seek them, he does not attempt to get rid of them, instinctively hoarding as much of the “fairness” as he can get. For instance, in The Lost Colony, where Artemis and his friend Holly Short of the LEP travel through a time-tunnel, first his fingers are switched, then he swaps an eye with Holly, and finally he steals some of the fairy magic, which grants him limited healing and regeneration powers. He also gains three years during the travel: in his own time he has to pose as a seventeen-year-old (Colfer 2007: 371)”.

In essence, you have both people seeking to perfect the body in order to match the goals of mind, such as Opal trying to steal new types of magic, and then you have Artemis switching eyes with Holly, representing a more benign example of the body changing to match the mind, as switching eyes represents that he has literally switched perspectives and can see things through her eyes as a result of their friendship. And in the end of the series, you also have Artemis being reborn into a clone — he has changed so much from his self at the beginning of the series, it is like his past self is dead, and his moral rebirth is reflected literally in him being given a new body free of the constraints of the mistakes he made before his passing, such as kidnapping Holly or endangering Butler on multiple occasions.

This I suppose covers most of the grounds that I wanted to in this essay. I talked about the context of the book series being published, the themes, the characters, and the philosophical questions posed by the text.

I don’t know if answered my original question of “what is Artemis Fowl?” — I think I’ll always have something to say about the series. But this puts words to a lot of thoughts I’ve had, and it’s nice to at least have it all there, I suppose. Thanks for listening, and if you have questions, leave me a comment here on on the ao3 version of the essay [x]-- or send me an ask!

#artemis fowl #my writing #my post #hi im zoe and i love making poorly conceived essays abt my interests

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what-is-your-plan-today · 5 years ago

Text

Leave No One Behind Ch2: The Red Sea Diving Resort

Part 1

Co-Written with @icanfeelastormbrewing

Episode Summary: Ari and his team arrive at their Resort and begin making plans for the first mission.

Episode Warnings: Bad Language words. Allusions to death and serious injury.

Episode Pairings: Ari Levinson x OFC Hannah Horowitz

Song for Episode: Night Fever by the Bee Gees

A/N: This is a long Chapter so we have split it into two Parts. P2 will be up tomorrow. J Again, we’re not historians, nor do we know Sudan in any detail…so if anything in here is factually incorrect, we mean no offence. Take it as slight creative license.

As always we live for re-blogs and comments

Series Master List // Main Masterlist

And that sweet city woman, She moves through the light, Controlling my mind and my soul

“What the fuck is he wearing Cracker?” Max asked Hannah as he nodded over her shoulder. Frowning, she turned to see Ari had walked in, briefcase in hand, dressed in a dark brown velvet suit and a white and gold striped shirt with a large, open necked collar.

Hannah snorted “He looks like John Travolta.”

“Walking like him too…” Sammy mumbled.

“Night fever, night fever…we know how to do it…” Jake sang softly, and the rest of the group all started to chuckle, hastily turning away as Ari walked towards the table and dropped the briefcase down on it.

Ari greeted Ethan with a nod of his head and looked around the room. His team was already gathered standing around the oval metal table, chatting idly.

Max and Jake were sniggering about something and Ari could clearly see Sammy was trying to keep a straight face, hands in his trousers pockets and looking at his feet while bouncing on them. Did he want to know? Probably not.

And then he noticed Hannah. She was chatting with Rachel who was admiring the brown leather knee high boots she was wearing. Ari heard Rachel comment something about her loving chunky heels as Hannah twisted her left foot so that Rachel could have a better look at the boots.

But Ari wasn’t interested in the boots, well, ok he was, but his gaze then travelled upwards, following her black tights clad legs and thighs, until his eyes mid-thigh met the hem of the skirt of her maroon pleated chord pinafore. Luckily for him, when his eyes continued past up her waist and the long sleeved polka dot blouse she was wearing, and he could take in the delicate features of her face, she was still engaged in some sort of fashion conversation with Rachel.

She was stunning, but what was new there? He had to admit to himself he had felt his chest fill with warmth when he had been running through the fake passports Ethan had given him the previous evening. He had opened hers first, sitting on his bed in the privacy of his hotel room, tumbler of Scotch in hand. His eyes scanning Hannah's passport photo over and over again. Those big round blue eyes looking directly at him.

Firefly, he had muttered running his thumb over the photo before gulping his drink.

Thus, Ari knew which would be the one on top at the deck of passports he was now pulling from his briefcase. He was going over the questions he would be asking each one of them in his head when he heard Max asking him something.

“You got chills Ari?”

“What?” Ari frowned, his head turning to Max and in the corner of his eye he noticed that Hannah turned to watch, biting her lip as behind her Sammy laughed and hastily started coughing to cover it up.

“Are they multiplying?” Jake chipped in.

“Are you losing control?” Max continued

“Coz the power, you’re supplying…it’s electrifying!” the two men sang together as Ari looked at the pair of them rolling his eyes, a smirk playing on his face. Behind him Ethan groaned.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up…” Ari’s mouth curled into a crooked smile. “I’m Guy Thomas…he wears this shit…its fashion. And besides, Max, you’ve no room to talk!”

Hannah snorted and turned to look at Max, taking his outfit in in more detail. Because they were all in Zurich at the NATCOR HQ under the guise of a simple Mossad business meeting, Ari had instructed the team to come dressed as they felt their Alter Egos would dress for work. Sammy and Jake were both dressed in suits and ties, Max was in a suit with an open collar pinstriped shirt.

“He has a point…” Hannah conceded “You’re like the Kenickie to his Danny…”

“Grease was based in the 50s.” Max narrowed his eyes at her.

“Yeah, which is when that shirt was in fashion.” Jake said, slapping Max on the shoulder. Hannah and Ari snorted before they were cut off by an angry noise from behind them.

“Save the outfit discussions for later.” Ethan snapped “You lot are going to get yourselves killed for fucks sake.”

“Ethan, Ethan…” Ari turned to him, his voice soothing “Just, calm down…we’ve not even started the meeting yet.”

“Exactly, and we’re already behind schedule so if you don’t mind…” He nodded his head in the direction of the table and everyone, suitably chastised, took a seat.

Ethan and Ari ran the group through the plans regarding the next few months and how the deployment was going to work. They were to fly out on the 4th January, from Zurich, where Ari and Rachel would meet with the Sudanese Government and get the paper work and everything signed for the lease on the diving resort. Whilst they were there Max, Hannah, Jake and Sammy were to pair off and head to 2 different places to pick up 2 different cars which would be ready and waiting with supplies from 2 in country contacts. Once the explanations were finished, Ari then picked up the false passports.

“So you’ve all had enough time to read over your covers.” Ari said, flipping through the pile of passports, selecting one “Remember, the point of being undercover is you keep it simple. So you should have memorised the basics, your name, date of birth, parents names, address, hometown that type of thing. Everything else you can make up on the spot but nothing too elaborate. Don’t take it too far from the actual truth because whatever you tell one person you need to remember to tell another.”

He paused and cleared his throat. “Ok, let’s see how you fare under questioning.” he looked at Hannah “Firefly, you first… Name?”

“Rosa-Maria Gomez” Hannah repeated back, without so much as batting an eyelid, her Spanish accent flawless.

“Where are you from?”

“Valencia.”

“What did you do?”

“Bar manager at a local hotel.”

“Which hotel?”

“Sidi Saler”

“How long for?”

“Just over 10 years. Travelled for a year or so after University, settled back home when I was 19. Never looked back.”

There wasn’t so much as a hint of hesitation when she spoke. Ari smiled at her and tossed the fake passport down in front of her. “Good job.” he said and with a faint smile she reached for the passport.

Next he put Rachel through her paces, picking her up on the slight hesitation she had over her address and then Jake’s mistake over his elementary school name. He then turned to Sammy.

“Sammy…name. Where are you from? “

“I'm Liam Anderson. Australia.” Sammy said, picking up his passport

“First girlfriend.”

“Mary”

“Tell me about her.” Ari said, stopping at the head of the table.

“Mary Rose. Took my virginity and broke my heart.”

At that, Ari saw Hannah, who was sat at the far end of the table next to Sammy shift slightly. Despite himself he glanced at her and she caught his eye before she looked down at the table. Ari turned back to Sammy who was still speaking.

“We met at the University of Queensland in Brisbane. I was 19. Later died in a car accident.”

“It's good. Good work, Sammy.” Ari turned to Max “You're up.”

There was a pause as Max stared straight ahead before he glanced at the passport.

“I still think this is a stupid name for someone from Malta.” Max protested “Why Malta?”

Rachel gave a little chuckle as Ari looked at him, rolling his eyes as his hands fell to his hips.

“Max, when you learn a second language, that's where you can be from. Till then you're from Malta. No one knows what people from Malta speak.”

“What do people speak in Malta?” Rachel asked.

“Maltese” Hannah supplied and sniggers rang round the table.

“See, no one knows, that's the point.” Ari said with a smile before he looked pointedly at Max “Name”

“Hello, everybody, my name's Irving Wilmington.” Max said in a ridiculously, fake European accent which made everyone start to laugh “And I'm from Malta-“

“You think this is funny?” Ethan’s angry voice cut across the laughter and everyone looked up at the man as he strode around the table. “Just for the record, there's not one person in this group that I would have chosen for this type of mission. You're all too reckless.” Hannah looked at Max who raised his eyebrows as if to say, he has a point…which to be fair, he kinda did.

“I've gone against every instinct I know.” Ethan continued as Ari looked down at the floor “broken every risk management rule I believe in, including sending two women to a Muslim country.” Ethan said, looking directly at Hannah then Rachel “So let's be very clear. This mission has no backup. There's no exfil plan for you. You're going in without guns, or any other weapon. If this goes wrong, you'll all be hanging from cranes in Khartoum.”

With that Ethan left the room and there was a moment of silence.

“Can’t wait…” Jake said, leaning back in his chair.

*****

Of course, nothing every runs completely smoothly. Jake was stopped by the Sudanese Immigration, simply to be released once he had paid the ‘bribe’ the officials wanted. Ari spotted him joining the others in the queue for cabs as he and Rachel departed in the car to the Tourism Board.

Then, they met with their contact in the Sudanese Government, Colonel Madibbo and embarked on the anticipated haggling over the price. The man looked Ari in the face and told him that the lease was five hundred thousand, to which Ari replied simply that they had agreed Two-Fifty. After a little bit of negotiation, Ari moved up to three-fifty, informing the Colonel it was their best offer, but then loaded told the man that could write it down as two-fifty and then take the rest and do something beneficial for the people of Sudan.

“You may not speak Arabic, Mr. Thomas. But you do speak the local language.” Madibbo laughed, and Ari simply glanced at Rachel before smiling back, fully understanding that the “local language” meant he’d given the man a bung, and that the extra hundred thou was going straight into the Colonel’s own back pocket.

Bent bastard.

A few hours later everything was sorted, they’d been given everything they needed and Ari and Rachel walked out of the building, climbed in the arranged car and were dropped off on the main high-street where they headed to the inconspicuous Café that had been allocated as a meeting spot. Remaining in character, Ari and Rachel, or Guy and Angela, greeted their team loudly, as if it was the first time they had seen each other for a while, and then they all settled down at a table outside on the packed market square, and Ari briefed them as if he was briefing resort staff. They all listened, picked up on his cues and after a quick coffee each they all stood up to leave.

As they were leaving the Café, Max tossed one of the jeep’s keys at Ari, who caught them with a swift movement of his hand. Once they reached the spot where the vehicles were parked Ari opened the driver's door to one of them and turned to see his team had stopped and were looking at the trucks as if deciding who was going to ride in each one of the trucks.

"Ride with me?" Max turned to ask Hannah waving the other set of keys in the air.

"Yup. I call shotgun!" she said as a reply as she walked round to open the passenger side door.

"Right, I'll be on the back seat." Jake quipped as she pulled the seat forward and gestured for him to get in the back.

Ari shook his head, hands on his hips, as he looked at Sam and Rachel through his shades before opening the back door of their jeep for Sam to jump in, tossing his backpack on the floor of the car as Rachel went to the side of the passenger seat.

"Guess the three musketeers have decided for all of us." Ari said as he jumped up in the truck, a trace of bitterness in his voice which wasn't undetected by Sammy.

"Oh my. The great Ari Levinson scorned by part of his team." Sam said, amused and Rachel chuckled.

"You're hilarious Sammy." Ari deadpanned as he fixed the rear view mirror for the third time in the last couple of minutes before he set off.

"Maybe you should keep an eye on Jake." he spoke again a minute later, turning to look at Sam as if trying to make sure he understood what he was implying. Sam examined him for a few moments before speaking

"Yeah, maybe. And maybe you should keep an eye on the road and stop looking through the mirror." Sam deadpanned turning his head slowly to the side window.

***** A few hours later, they had a quick pit stop to stretch legs and changed drivers. Ari was keen to make as good time as possible so it was only for a few moments, Max taking a well needed pee at the side of the truck, groaning in relief. Hannah shook her head, before she climbed in the back of the jeep. They set off again, and their gentle chatter struck up once more.

"So..." Jake said, turning to glance over his shoulder at Hannah, one eye sort of remaining on the road. "I've been dying to ask. Your nicknames..." "What about them?" She asked, turning her head to face him from where she had been looking out of the window. "Why does Ari call you Firefly when the rest of the team seems to call you Cracker?"

Max snorted and looked at Hannah who was grinning. "Ok so the cracker thing came from a mission." She said, thinking fondly back "it was the first one we all actually ran together...me, Max, Sammy, Ari...Andy..." she trailed off for a moment before she continued "we were sat round the fire one night and Andy had a pack of those little savoury fish cracker things. We started playing a game as to how many each of us could fit in our mouths. Max insisted he would win...but who in fact did win Maxwell?" "You..." Max sighed "by 2 crackers" "So Andy started calling me crackers which became cracker and it stuck..." she shrugged. "Well, with everyone but Ari that is..." "Yeah, so explain the Firefly thing..." Jake pushed. "The first time I met Ari was when he came over one evening with Sammy. It was just before Sammy moved out." Hannah said "I was 17 and we were sat out in the garden at the back. It wasn't a huge garden, communal like, shared with 3 other houses but I loved it because there was a colony of lightning bugs, or fireflies that frequented it. It was a few months later Sammy was being an ass-hat about something and I flipped out at him and threw a mug at his head. It missed and smashed against the wall but Ari found it hilarious. Told I was just like those little fireflies I admired so much. Such an ordinary, unassuming thing on the outside with a hell of a surprise packed away underneath..." Jake paused and then started laughing "Now that's a back handed compliment if ever I did hear one." Hannah grinned "I know. When I asked him what he meant by ordinary you should have seen his face. He was all flustered and stammering and worried he'd offended me. Lasted all of 2 minutes until I cracked up laughing and told him I understood." "Well, fireflies are pretty awesome..." Jake smiled "A symbol of light in the dark, hope, warmth" "Yup, all things Ari said to me when he was back pedalling over the whole ordinary thing" Hannah smiled with a shrug "either way, it stuck."

My little firefly…

“Tell him what you call Ari.” Max said and Hannah snorted.

“El Lobo hambriento” She replied after a moment’s pause “Or Lobo for short.”

“And that means…” Jake looked at her again for a second.

“Spanish for the hungry wolf…” Hannah said “It came from when he used to eat my Mama out of house and home whenever he came round with Sammy. And over time it got shortened to Lobo…just wolf…”

Jake laughed “Well, he is kinda hairy…but you know, that should be my nickname given that I am actually a Wolf.”

“By name…” Max teased “You look like more of a poodle.”

Hannah laughed and leaned forward, so that her head poked between the front to seats in the car “You can be Loop.” “Loop?” Jake frowned.

“Short for Lupin…Latin for Wolf, or there or thereabouts anyway. Or it could just mean you’re a total fruit loop, take your pick…”

Jake gave a huge guffaw of laughter and looked at her “Does that make you Little Red Riding Hood?”

Hannah snorted as Max shook his head, looking out at the window “That’s the shittest chat up line I’ve ever heard” he spoke, turning back to Jake.

“Can’t blame a man for trying” Jake winked.

After a total of six hours and a couple more stops to stretch and freshen up, if that was even possible in the middle of the desert, they arrived in the resort. But they couldn't properly see it until they got out of the trucks, the windows being partly covered by dust as they had taken shortcuts over sand dunes to save quite a few hours more off the travel time should they have opted to use the main roads.

When they finally got out of the car they took some clumsy steps on the sand after being into the confined space of car for that many hours. Jake lit a cigarette and as he looked at Ari he couldn't help but make a howling noise to Hannah who started laughing immediately. As if on cue, Max started howling too and the three of them were caught in a fit of hysteric laughter, Max bending his body for balance and Hannah leaning on Jake's arm.

Ari, Sam and Rachel stood there watching the three of them, dumbfounded. Ari shared a glance with Sam before he shot his sister a look and she pulled herself together still trying holding back laughter. Ari sighed before he took a few more steps towards the main entrance of the resort and the rest of the team followed suit.

They all stopped still, looking at the ram-shackled building in front of them, the words Red Sea Diving Resort were descripted in fading red paint above the large, archway shaped door. Hannah removed her shades, looking at it, and she let out a loud breath from where she stood at the end of the line they seemed to have formed, next to Max.

“It sure doesn't look like the brochure.” she said, and everyone turned to look at her, Max giving a small huff of laughter. After a second or so, Ari moved to the trucks to retrieve their luggage and the rest of them followed suit before they headed towards the entrance. Ari wrestled with the wooden trellised screen doors before he gave one a harsh push and it fell forward off its hinges, crashing to the floor sending up a cloud of dust and sand. He turned to look at them all, giving a shrug before he headed inside. They all followed and Hannah cast her eyes around as they hit the main room. All the window screens were shut, leaving it quite dark despite the bright late afternoon sunshine outside. Chairs and tables were piled haphazardly around the edges of the main room of the resort, various other pieces of furniture dotted around.

“It needs a little TLC.” Ari said, turning to the team.

“Nice.” Rachel chuckled.

“Oh, yeah?” Sammy snorted, pushing the shaded lenses on his glasses up as he looked around with a laugh. “What a dump.”

Hannah watched as Jake moved to open one of the sets of doors which led out onto the beach and instantly the place was flooded with light. She glanced at Max who smiled and they followed him out onto the beach.

“This is paradise!” Jake sighed. Max looked at him, incredulously, but Hannah had to admit, outside it was beautiful. A secluded cove of The Red Sea right was in front of them, the sun bouncing off the blue water, waves softly lapping at the shore.

Max pushed his glasses back up his nose and headed away to his right, Hannah following as they walked round the side of the resort and up a small boardwalk which led to a small pier of sorts.

“Well, hello, gorgeous…” she heard Max say. Hannah turned to see him examining a spear gun which was leaned up against the glass windows in front of him. She rolled her eyes.

“Your obsession with sniping weapons is worrying.” she arched an eyebrow.

He turned to face her with a grin before he tucked his shades into his shirt and picked up the fishing spear, holding it like a gun, checking down the sight target. The two of them stepped further round and Hannah frowned as Max stopped under a wooden shelter of sorts and the pair of them spotted the large, silver fish hanging from the structure. It had been beheaded, the head laying on a grill, and Max turned to look at her.

“This fish is fresh.” he frowned.

“Don’t eat it…” Hannah said instantly, teasing him about his obsession with food.

“Don’t eat…it’s fucking raw.” he rolled his eyes at her.

“Never had sushi?” she shot back.

“Don’t care for it much…” he mused before they both exchanged a glance, the seriousness of the fact that the fish, was indeed newly caught sinking in as Max turned to call back to the resort.

“Hey, yo, this fish is fresh!”

Ari who had been walking along the shore, heard Max’s call, along with Rachel’s which informed everyone she had found a newspaper from this week .He stopped and glanced back into the resort before he opened the door into one of the bedroom huts. Taking a glance round he threw open the wooden window screens, turning his face away as the sand and dust from outside blew into his face. It was then a familiar smell hit his nose and he glanced down to his left and saw that there were cigarette butts in an ashtray. One was still smoking slightly.

And then, someone jumped up from behind a pile of furniture in the corner of the room and shot out of the door. Ari turned and sprinted after him, yelling for him to stop and calling to the team. They all joined him, sprinting around the corner where Ari stopped at the sight of a group of what they could only assume were locals.

“Hello. My name...” Ari began, before he whipped off his sunglasses, figuring they might trust him more if they could see him eye to eye “My name's Guy Thomas. I'm the new owner of this hotel.”

The locals didn’t speak, and Hannah noticed that the woman at the front, adorned in bright yellow local dress was glancing at Max nervously.

“Max, lower that thing…” she said softly, as he had the spear gun raised.

Ari turned to face him and nodded, gesturing with his hands “Come on.”

“Sorry.” Max said gently, as he slowly lowered his weapon.

“Abu Hamid.” the man at the front of the group spoke to them.

“Hello.” Ari greeted him kindly.

“What the hell's going on?” Sammy spoke gently through his smile.

“I think we just met the local staff.” Ari said softly, looking round at everyone.

Part 2

#leave no one behind #ari levinson x ofc #ari levinson #red sea diving resort #red sea diving resort fan fic

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chibi-pix · 4 years ago

Note

Your Plance Portal AU pics inspired a small bit of fiction from me. Not sure what to do with it, so here you are. Apologies if it's a bit rough, first draft. Feel free to modify, share, whatever. I'm just anon. And sorry for the lack of formatting that will result in posting here. (part 1) "Why?" The fascinating specimen asked of me. His eyes darting over the form I had taken. Curiosity. Heightened heart rate. A curious combination of two of the three primal Fs. Fascinating as always.

Wow! Your story parts were amazing! While I admit, some sections were hard to read, conclude who was talking, but I did love it! Of course, you did call it a first/rough draft and stories start that way!

You had said I was free to modify and/or share. I took you up on that offer and applied your work to this. It was fun to work with and thank you for writing it and giving me an opportunity to work with it.

Hopefully it all shows; if not, I’ll reblog the answer with the full post/ficlet.

Pidge. It was a simple name she was referred to as. She. A humanized term to separate sexes and give identity. That was her understanding. It was a logical things to humans, but not to the likes of an android, program to see and comprehend numbers, not emotions and desires. So why? Why did she go by that word that could otherwise be called a pronoun?

“Why?” Her attention was brought to the latest of the subjects, a young man. Subject number 117-98-78. He insisted on being called Lance. Another human thing. But she supposed, to some extent, she could relate. She was given a name, too, along with her identity number. Her name, though, was shorter and easier to input by her creators when they wrote their notes.

Pidge examined Lance further, doing a scan of her own on the biological creature. His heart rate was increasing. An emotional response? Or perhaps it was the adrenaline humans felt when going through certain tasks that forces them to exert themselves physically and even emotionally. “You will need to reiterate your query for proper understanding so an appropriate answer can be provided.”

“Fine then. Why are you putting me through this?” Lance commanded. “Why do I need to go through these tests? What do you gain from all of this?!”

Pidge considered his questioned for a moment. To be honest, there was no complex reason for why she did it. It was her core imperative; it was her duty to test subjects and gather data. But would that response be enough for the latest subject? “You are a new variable.” she responded finally. “With the cloned and robotic test subjects being identical variables, testing and collecting data has grown stagnant and all data is outdated and irrelevant. You, however, come from outside the testing facility. You are a new variable and therefore present new data to study.”

“Dude! I could have died back there!” Lance snapped, his anger elevating. It was an illogical outburst from Pidge’s perspective, but, then again, humans were rather illogical. “Pit traps? Laser grids? And don’t get me started on that green goo you dare call sustenance. It’s freaking torture!”

“Incorrect.” Pidge responded, plain and simple. “This is testing. Testing is a necessary part of improving and moving forward. It is, after all, the core of my programming. To continue in my duty of gathering data. I test, therefore I am. I am, therefore...”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think Doctor and Professor Holt would have wanted testing to be this cruel.” Lance interrupted.

Pidge felt a stutter in her programming. Those names. Her creators. He knew their names. “Guessing their names correctly and knowing they created me specifically would be nearly impossible.” she commented. “Logic would point to you being aware of their classified research on redacted information. Despite this, mentioning them when in your current situation with the risks on your life tell me that you are not an intelligence operative of any enemy of my creators or their benefactors.” She performed another scan. “There are no indications in your biology to suggest any attempt of deceit. This is data that I did not anticipate. Explain. How do you know the names of my creators?”

“Huh? Well, everyone knows who the Holts are.” Lance stated, looking confused. “They changed everything. Botany, terraforming, space travel, they were the top minds of Altean Laboratories. Their work was groundbreaking.”

“Were. Changed. Was. These terms in how they are used are indication of past tense.” Pidge commented.

Lance was perplexed. “I mean… well… yeah, totally.” he said. “It was five centuries ago, give or take some months or single years.”

Pidge couldn’t explain the dip in her cor performance. Had she been human, she would have described it as a weight in her stomach. Had it seriously been that long? She had lost connection to her internal clock several thousand test subjects ago. “That is impossible.” she stated. “The facility around you operates due to the power obtained from the plasma reactor. It had only an estimated lifespan of three to four centuries; due to the renewal of energy sources, I have managed to re-calibrate that and extend it for another half century or so. To continue getting power to keep the facility functioning would be impossible. My ability to function would have ceased.”

Lance sighed. He then decided to bring up a holographic display. Pidge found she could not interface with the hologram; she decided she could endure collecting data visually. As she looked at the hologram, she saw the schematics of the facility. But not all was the same. There was a new structure that she could not identify.

Lance picked up on where Pidge was looking. “You see it, too, huh?” he asked. He pointed to an area on the hologram. “Right here. We had reason to believe that a piece of what we refer to as the trans-reality comet has found its way here. And by we, I mean my superior officers. I’m just the field guy who goes in and investigates things; the others are the science guys who understand this stuff better. Anyway, long story short, but this thing is apparently radiating energy and with a copious amount still stored in it. There’s a problem, though.”

Pidge couldn’t interface with the hologram, but she knew the subject could. She went in close, finding her humanoid form to be convenient for times like this. She gently took Lance’s hand and moved it, prompting him to touch certain parts and bring up more data on the hologram.

“It appears to be unstable.” Pidge commented.

“Extremely.”

“The plasma from the facility’s reactor appears to be the cause of of the instability. However, I do not have sufficient data to fully determine how accurate this is.” Pidge glanced over to Lance, realizing he was staring at her, his mouth hung open a bit. “Does me not having the full answer cause this human emotion of bewilderment?” she inquired. “It should not; results cannot be properly determined without sufficient amounts of data. I have not collected enough data on the subject of this comet and its interactions with the reactor.”

“No it’s just...” Lance looked at Pidge’s hand, seeing it still around his own. “Your hand. It’s so warm. I didn’t expect that.” Pidge pulled her hand away quickly. “What are you? How are you so warm?”

“I am not; this is simply a byproduct of the cooling systems aboard this particular interface unit.” Pidge responded. “This unit is only a feature provided to me. I am, after all, the facility computer.”

Lance looked closely. “So… why do you look like a girl?”

Pidge blinked. So even he acknowledged that he seemed like a girl, at least in appearance. She looked ahead and away from the subject. “This interface unit was called the Physical Interface Data Gateway Exchange. To make data input easier, they formed it into the acronym PIDGE.” she explained. “It was designed with the intention of making interactions with subjects feel less… impersonal. It is for the benefit of my creators and the facility, not of my own. I have insufficient amounts of data to determine why they have given me this form.” She didn’t speak about it, but what little data she had about that, she had image files showing a member of the Holt family with a similar appearance. Perhaps it was meant to immortalize that member? She lacked the data to determine that.

“Pidge, huh?” Lance asked. “So it’s a name?”

“It is what they called me due to it being easier on the creators and less time consuming for their already limited lives.” Pidge commented. “Now then, since I have answered your queries and indulged your curiosities, it would be preferable to continue the testing.”

Lance gave a smile, but it did not look calm. It looked almost forced. “Sorry, but… this is where the testing ends, Pidge. Pidge did not understand. She then felt something in her, as though the numbers she lived by were changing.

“I do not comprehend.” she commented. She felt off balance, as though she could not properly control the unit meant for interfacing. But she couldn’t disconnect, either; she couldn’t return fully to the computer system. “What did you do to my systems? How did…”

Lance gave a bit of a guilty smile. He then brought up a new image for the hologram. “I had some help but… your entire core program? It’s gone. No more testing. No more of this… cruel torture. You’re in this device now, disconnected from everything else. Like an old game disk; one wrong move, you’re gone. Completely.”

“Impressive.” Pidge commented. “I did not anticipate your device having the necessary storage capacity for my system. Perhaps the claim of five centuries passing is not as far-fetched as I originally determined.” Around them, the corridors and testing chambers grew dark. What Lance could only assume to be the emergency lights turned on, illuminating the area in a bright red. “It does not appear that you or your outside help have considered another variable.”

“Um… what variable?”

“The default settings booting back up upon my removal.”

“Ah quiznak.” Pidge could only assume that Lance’s choice of word meant something profound. “Okay… so what do we get? Some five hundred year old security system about to hunt me down?”

“That would be accurate to the data.” Pidge confirmed. “Which would not be good for your condition.”

“My condition?”

“Of being alive.”

“Oh.”

“However, I do possess the necessary data to thwart the old program. The variable now stands at you being the only one who can interface with my core due to the technology you transferred to it. It would then be in my best interest to keep your status as alive.”

“I mean, how hard can this be? I’ve dealt with you so far.” Lance prompted. He jumped when a sound caught his attention. There was movement further in the corridor. Blades typically seen in tests, meant to be turned off or dodged. Past it? There was another figure, though harder to see.

“In subject terms? Bad. Very bad.” Pidge commented. “I suggest listening to what I say and following my instructions without fail.” She looked to Lance. “My first instruction-”

“I’m gonna take a guess and say run!” Lance grabbed Pidge by the hand and ran off in the opposite direction, pulling her along; it was a good thing that despite her data being put into the device around his arm, her body, as one could call it, was still functional and able to move.

Again, thank you so much for this opportunity!

#chibi answers #chibi writes #plance portal au #portal au #Pidge #Lance #VLD #Voltron legendary defender

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