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docholligay · 4 years ago

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An Overwatch Christmas Carol: Stave V--The End of It

Here it is! The entire story is done, dusted, and FINISHED!! Thank you all who have encouraged me, and thatnk you @keyofjetwolf for sponsoring!

Ana buried her head into the shaded robes of the spirit, only to discover that they were cheap, and slightly pilly. She pulled her head away, confused, only to discover her own sheets into front of her, just as unremarkable as they always had been. Her bedroom seemed little changed from any other morning, the windowsill still leaky, the bedclothes unremarkable, the carpet on which she knelt still threadbare and dingy. It was her room, for certain, and all around her there was nothing, no spirits, no ghosts, not even any night, as the sun cracked away at the shadows.

For a moment, Ana though it might have all been a highly complicated dream, a level of deep creativity that she had not known she could employ against herself, and before last night, she might easily have accepted that answer. But the Ana of this morning was different, or very willing to become so, and walked slowly and carefully into the living room.

There was nothing out of order. Only a small jingle bell on the floor. She knelt down, and picked it up, letting it roll in her hand with a small tinkle.

At this the swell of joy filled her, that it had happened, and that she had been given another chance, and most of all, what she could only have realized at the hands of the cruel master that was the Future--she had been loved enough to be corrected. To be saved from the prison that was her own self.

“Jack!” she ran over to the old picture of the two of them, and nearly kissed it, “Jack, thank you! I--I will be better, I will do better. Your faith in me won’t be disappointed, I promise you!”

She set the picture back down, and hurried around the tiny room, barely knowing where to go next.

“Oh, Wilhelm, oh, I should have done so much better for you,” she caught a glimpse of herself as she passed the small bathroom, and hurried off to her bedroom again, “But I promise to always remember the past. The past,” She pulled on the most festive and cozy thing she owned--which was to say, a long greay sweater and a pair of pants, “Is the blueprint of our future, and we’re the architect. We can change it, but have to remember. I know this now, Wilhelm Reinhardt! You saw it always. I saw it as a house already built, but you knew better.”

She opened a drawer in her room, rifling through it until she found what she was looking for, tied in the back, still wrapped in the tissue paper where it had been given to her. She unwrapped it gently, pulling back the paper slowly, and there it still sat, a lovely navy blue with a subtle silver sparkle. Mercy had given it to her, for that first birthday she’d returned from her death, or retirement, or desertion, whatever you wanted to call it. She had shunned it, called it too fussy for her, unwilling to see it as the olive branch it was, extended from the one religious member of Overwatch to the other.

Ana had shunned it, but she had kept it, and maybe it was all for this second, as she wrapped it in something a bit more stylish and careful than her usual wrap.

“She’ll like seeing me in it, maybe. Maybe it’ll show her--” she looked down into her hand, where she realized she still held the small jingle bell, “Lena. You did me a favor against your better judgment. I should have listened to your lessons more in life. But I promise you, I will,” she turned the ball over in her hand, “try to find ways to bring cheer.”

The realization hit her again, all anew as the fallen snow outside, that she could do things differently, that there was still a chance to be the thing she might have always been, and then she froze. She froze and looked down at her phone, and saw that it was somehow still December 25th. Not only was there a chance to still be alive, but still the chance to bring something to this day, to show the humanity she had kept away from the door for all these years. And do it on a day she had no reason to love! What an opportunity!

“I can’t believe they managed it all in one night. Oh,” she pulled at her sweater, hurrying about the house, ‘You were always good operatives, all three of you, I never said that then, but I can say it now, you were all wonderful agents, always.”

What to do with herself? With all this opportunity? It seemed overwhelming, the world new to her in a way she had not realized it could ever be. The future could be changed, and that meant we could always change ourselves. The person we had been was not the person we were always doomed to be. Ana could be loved, if she chose to be loveable.

Tracer’s face came to her mind again. Of course that should be her first act, how could she have been pacing around the front room and not thought of it? She hurriedly called up the Pakistani restaurant nearby, and ordered so much that it would overflow their small table, nearly giggling like one of those little girls in a dusty courtyard in Cairo as she did so. Ana wanted to overwhelm them, wanted to be the spirit of goodness she had seen and envied.

She wanted people to remember her, and it was selfish, and it was kindness, and all of those things could be true for her, now.

Ana went to rush out the door to Pharah’s apartment, stopping herself just before she did so with another thought. She ran back into her bedroom, opened that same drawer, and pulled another scarf out of the side of it. She’d bought it years ago in Morocco, while she was working as The Shrike. For Pharah’s wedding, the little announcement printed in a Helix newsletter she’d obtained through her contacts. She was just going to show up, and then, never had, the ticket falling by the wayside. Even now Ana was not sure if it had been selflessness or selfishness that had kept her from it.

But, in any case, she had never gone, and this scarf had stayed tucked to the side, too fancy for anything she might attend, so fussy and delicate that it was as much a fantasy as the attending itself. Fine silk with hand embroidery and beading, in a soft gold, it was unsuitable for Ana even now, but the mother down the hall, who possibly had not had a thing just for her in years, would love it.

She wrapped it in the tissue paper from the one Mercy had given her, and hurried down the hall, knocking with such excitement that she worried at first she’d frightened them, and it may have been true, with how the little boy who opened the door looked at her, hurriedly shooed by his father.

“Hello.” She cleared her thought.

It had not occurred to her that in order to give something to this family, she would have to face them, and have to pretend that the affair was not nearly as awkward as it was. It is quite one thing to have the idea of presenting someone with whom you have been avoiding eye contact a gift, and another to do it. But Ana fancied herself, and had all of her life, as a brave person, willing to do that hard thing.

Was this not perhaps the hardest thing of all? Did she not learn from the spirits that the hard and the kind thing could be one and the same?

The man nodded at her. “Hello.”

“I wanted to give something to your wife. To all of you. Not for Christmas, I--” she indicated to her scarf, as the mother came up behind him, smiling at Ana as the little boy stood in front of her. “Anyway.”

Ana pressed the package into the woman’s hands, feeling stupider and more exposed than she ever had in her life, this strange feeling that she could be rejected from this position, could be hurt, and yet here she was, standing. The woman slowly began to open it, took a look at the scarf, barely able to draw it out of its packaging before bringing a hand to her mouth and shaking her head, tiny tears forming in her eyes.

“No.” she quietly said, before trying to hand it back.

“Oh,” Ana waved a hand, “I bought it years ago, and I have never worn it. I won’t, I know that, and you ,” she stopped herself from excusing her kindness with reason, “I want you to have it, and it would look beautiful on you.”

Her husband turned and said something to her in a language Ana did not know. She looked down at the scarf, and carefully touched the delicate beading, then looked back up at Ana.

“Thank you.”

Ana forced herself to give a true smile. “Of course. Have a wonderful day.”

She handed an envelope with that hundred pound note from Jack’s old cookie tin to her husband, and then hurried down the hallway. She wanted to avoid him trying to return the money, of course, but also there was much to do, so many chances on this day that she couldn’t possibly let slip through her fingers. Of course, nothing would be open, at least none of the department stores where she thought about getting decorations. But that didn’t mean there was no worth in trying, and so she fled out the front door of her apartment building and headed down the street.

And, if miracles abounded on this day, the first one was in the small grocery on her street, still open. It shouldn’t have surprised her, given that probably only half of her neighborhood celebrated anything other than it being a Tuesday off, but nonetheless, she allowed that feeling excitement and cheer to come with her as she poked through the small shop. There was very little in the way of anything that could be called decoration, a few boxes of candy canes, a bit of garland. There likely hadn’t been much to start with, but Ana bought it all up, and shuffled down with the bags toward the reconstructed building across the city. She did not even grumble at the transportation that didn’t run, only hurried a little faster across the city on foot.

As she passed by, she saw a little kosher bakery, open as usual, and she found herself breaking into a genuine smile that came from within herself, choosing the sweets and savories she thought all might enjoy at Winston and Emily’s, knowing they would have nothing like it. Her arms were full to bursting as she closed in on Pharah and Mercy’s, and they might have been tired but for the bolstering effect that being able to give happiness rose in her.

She thought for a moment, in front of their house, suddenly filled with fear and hope and so many things she had not realized she could still feel, alive in her now despite the cold, bright as a daisy against the cool of December. She stared at the house for a moment, and then resolved herself, her mission set out firmly in her mind.

Ana ran quickly to the small alleyway, or street if you were a Londoner, to the side of the building, and stashed her box full of goodies there. No reason not to have a bit of fun with all of this, if only for a moment or two. Certainly Pharah would allow her that, and if not, there were so many other things Ana needed forgiving for that it hardly seemed an issue to add one more to the pile.

She scurried up the few steps to the door, and knocked, holding her breath in anticipation, narrowing her mind as if she were readying for the shot.

There were the sounds of footsteps inside, and then the door swung open, and her daughter stood before her. Oh, how she wanted to throw her arms around her, beg for forgiveness, and tell her all that had been seen and experienced in that horrible, wonderful night! But Pharah would never accept this, she knew, and why should she? Ana had done nothing to earn that sort of closeness between them, and could only hope now that the lessons the spirits had taught her had not come too late.

So she played. Ana set her face to her normal expression, and looked straight at Pharah.

“Ana.” Pharah did not move from the door, and in fact seemed to grow into her own kind of door, or wall, maybe, but Ana kept the sternness of your face.

“We need to talk.” Ana controlled her voice level, and steeled it.

Pharah’s eyes were hard as icicles. “We are past the point where you can give me any command, Agent Amari.”

“Not you,” Ana gave a laugh and pushed past Pharah, catching her by surprise, and looked Mercy straight in the eye, “You.”

Pharah had her by the arm already, and Ana realized that she may get the chance to fully understand the feeling of getting tossed into a drift of snow by her daughter, if she didn’t speak fast enough. She let a smile smile break from her.

“I thought about what you said to me,” Ana shook her head, “No, that isn’t true. The Spirits--I was--taught, I guess you’d say, how wrong I--I owe you an apology.” she nodded, half-ashamed, “I owe you many apologies.”

Mercy smiled brightly, but Pharah rather looked like she’d been slapped with a mackerel, and released Ana quite without her own consent.

“This scarf is beautiful, Angela.” She walked away from Pharah and closer to Mercy, “You have always been so generous with me. With your own heart. I was a fool, and I could not see it. I kicked at your spirit, and still you chose to be kind.”

“Oh, Ana,” Mercy wiped a tear and took Ana’s hands in hers, “I--”

“You have a strength that I will never know. The spirits taught me that, that my strength was only in stone. But that isn’t the only kind, not only the best--”

“What. Do you want?” Pharah, perhaps unfamiliar with the narrative structure, seemed to be in no mood to embrace her own personal Scrooge, and glowered as she leaned against the entryway wall.

Ana turned to her, slowly. “I failed you in so many ways. As a mother.”

There was not a single twitch in her face or body. “Yes, you did.”

Ana winced under the quickness of the answer. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me today..”

“Forgive you or trust you..”

“Or trust me. It took years for me to dig this hole. Climbing out will be slow.”

It was so tenuous, the moment between them, as if they were walking toward each other on a sheet of fragile ice, and might be consumed by the dark water underneath at any moment. Even Mercy seemed to hold her breath as the two of them locked eyes, neither seeming to know what came next, reading from different scripts entirely.

Ana stepped forward first. “I don’t deserve for you to give me a chance. You have no reason to believe I’ve changed anything at all. But I have come here, asking you, to let me show you over time. That I can change.”

The sharpness dropped from Pharah’s eyes, but still she said nothing. She stood in the quiet, her arms crossed, leaning against the wall next to the door. She held Ana in her eyes, and Ana could see the thousand calculations that ran back there, more than a few of those formulas taught by Ana herself.

Ana had the horrific feeling that if she had been placed in Pharah’s shoes, there would be no chance at forgiveness, or even tolerance. She would be cast out in into the cold immediately, without a second thought, if Ana was the one who decided. Ana would not have moved. Ana would not have reached a hand out, nor taken the hand given to her, and she knew she had taught Pharah to do that same.

She had only to hope that her daughter was a better person than she ever was. The things she had seen made her think it was true.

“Fareeha.” Mercy, sweet Mercy. How could Ana have ever seen her in such an uncharitable light? Things looked so different now, with the candles of those who had taught her lighting the way.

Pharah sighed and looked off to the side. “I am..making dinner for Winston and Emily,” she kicked off the wall and passed by Ana, looking her in the eye, “A ham. Stay if you want.”

Ana nodded, and allowed Pharah to pass her by. It may as well have been a grand invitation, engraved, even, for all that she had expected, all that she had deserved, from Pharah. It was a sign of incredible grace, and her deep ability to love, and her capacity to believe in humanity.

Amaris know what’s being said, without having to say it.

“Wait here.” Ana said to Mercy, who could not have responded at all for the surprise of it, and she ran out the door, down the small stairs, and took up the box she had brought, running it back up as if she had never aged a day since childhood. “I brought this. For cheering up Winston and Emily.”

“How could you--” Mercy puzzled.

“There was only a little decoration, but look!” She brought out the box. “The kosher bakery was open, and I thought, well, the OXtons certainly aren’t going to bring anything like this, though I know they’ll bring plenty.”

Mercy had known plenty of confusion, in her time. In some ways, the medical field was made for it, particularly at the experimental levels she had played in, on and off, for the last fifteen years. But this was something altogether new, and though she did not know it, she was not Pharah, in this moment, and there was something about it she found inherently trustworthy. Beauty, she reasoned, could be found in any place, and wasn’t this the simplest version of what she had prayed every day? That Ana would desist from her path, and see good?

Mercy was not accustomed to God listening to her prayers, and so it was jarring, but not unwelcome.

“Angela.” Ana set the box on the side table and took her hand. “I want you to know, that Lena was so thankful to you, for everything you did.”

Mercy’s eyes welled with tears, and she gave a weak chuckle. “Everything I tried--”

“Everything you did.” Ana laughed. “She was so grateful even I knew it, and was she ever my great friend while she was alive?”

“And we’re such good mates now, right?”

Ana’s head turned to see Tracer sitting on the back of the couch, her nose wrinkled in a smile, unable to keep a false harshness even for a second. Beside her, Reinhardt stood with a broad grin that reached all the way up to his eyes, and after a moment, could not help but throw an arm around Tracer and hug her to him, as she giggled.

Mercy laughed and wiped at her eye. “No, I suppose, you were never being the best of friends.”

Mercy followed Ana’s eyes to the couch, and then looked at Ana, tilting her head just slightly.

“Nothing,” Ana said before Mercy could ask the question, “Only thinking of how I could have been a better friend. To her.” She looked back to Mercy. “To all of you. And I will, be better. Do better. I will remember that generosity is a choice, and kindness is a choice. I will remember that sometimes, kinder, softer things, must be said. I will learn from everyone I have known, who tried to teach me, and keep their lessons with me. From you. From Fareeha.”

Mercy gave a contented sigh and clasped her hands together. “We should be helping Fareeha.”

“Of course.” She nodded and went to follow Mercy into the kitchen, but looked over one last time, to see Jack leaning against the couch, his chains, if Ana were not mistaken, seeming slightly lighter than they had on that night when she came to save him.

“Good job, Amari.” He said, and gave her a playful salute.

“Thank you. Thank you all. So very much.”

They disappeared with the tinkling of jingle bells, and the spark of a light, and Ana followed Mercy into the kitchen.

Whether there is a hero or a villain in this story, I cannot say, but like all stories, known and unknown, there must be some conclusion. In a story written neatly, Ana would have been as good as her word and better, and Pharah would have forgiven her within a fortnight, and it would have been said of them both that you never met a closer mother and daughter in all of your life. But this is no tale written for a magazine, with a bow wrapped around it, for it was never truly about Christmas at all. So I will not tell you that Ana went, and sinned no more, and lived a perfect life.

I will tell you that no one had ever seen Ana spread cheer at a party so, and frankly, they had never seen it all, but she played games with the children, and passed around cookies, and told Emily and Winston both that Tracer had loved them dearly and would want them to be happy, and Brigitte that Reinhardt had always been so proud, whatever her father’s feelings on the matter, and she told herself most of all that Jack had loved, yes loved, her enough to bring back all such spirits that could set her toward the right, against her will, and against her person.

I will tell you that she worked to that aim for as long as she lived, to be better, and to honor kindness and gentleness as well as decisiveness and will. For she had learned that things never exist in the black and the white, but in the shade of all those shadows of the future, the blues and greys and purples that truly construct our futures. She lived with the lessons her friends, yes, friends, had taught her, and learned more of her own volition, and if Ana Amari could not have been said to be the best of all people, she certainly and in all ways could be said to be the best version of herself.

And for Fareeha Amari, who did not give herself over to her anger, the bridge was built slowly and unsteadily, and took many years, cobbled together with Ana working from one cliff and Pahrah another. Sometimes a bit would crumble and fall to the canyon below, and sometimes one would work harder, and go further, and sometimes it was the other, but it could always be said that the work on that bridge never ceased, despite the difficulty.

Ana’s goodness, or at the very least, the climb toward us, continued through the New Year, through the blooming of the flowers and the falling of the leaves, and never did she forget that to be a human is a journey, and not a thing etched in stone, nor a destination. May that be true of us, if we remember our own pasts, presents, and mindful futures.

A Happy Christmas, but, far more importantly, A Truly New Year.

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ltwilliammowett · 4 years ago

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The Sutton Hoo Ship Burial

In southern England, near the Suffolk coast, there is a piece of sandy heathland interspersed with mysterious mounds of earth. These burial mounds inspired the locals to tell strange stories and superstitions and enchanted the newly married couple, Frank and Edith Pretty, who purchased the land known as Sutton Hoo in 1926. However, Frank died in 1934 and Edith fell in love with the place. She lost herself more and more in spirituality and is said to have had ghostly dreams and so on, which was the real reason why she decided in 1937 to have the land excavated and turned to a museum in nearby Ipswich to discuss it. It was the self-taught archaeologist Basil Brown who worked as an excavation assistant at the museum and took over Edith's project.

View of the excavation of the ship-burial at Sutton Hoo, 1939

His excavation began and he found that the area had probably been looted before as he found few objects and evidence of human remains in mounds two, three and four.

The Sutton Hoo Area with the Tumuli

The Sutton Hoo helmet, early 7th century, iron and tinned copper alloy helmet, consisting of many pieces of iron, now built into a reconstruction, 31.8 x 21.5 cm (as restored) British Museum, London

Replica of the helmet made by the Royal Armories

In 1939 Brown resumed the excavations and turned his attention to the largest tumulus known as Tumulus One. During the excavation, he came across a section of hard earth stained with rust, which contained nails at regular intervals that were in their original locations. From then on, he was assisted by other national archaeologists. It was possible to make out the original ship, which was 27 metres long, pointed at both ends, with a high stem and stern post and a widening to 4.4 metres in the beam amidships with an internal depth of 1.5 metres above the keel line. From the keel board, the hull was constructed in clinker construction with nine planks on each side, fastened with nails. Twenty-six wooden frames reinforced the shape.

Silver bowl, British Museum, London

This gold belt buckle is a masterpiece of early medieval craftsmanship, made using over 400g of gold with an intricate decoration of intertwining creatures inlaid with niello (a black metal alloy), British Museum, London

Repairs were visible: it was a seagoing ship of excellent craftsmanship, but there was no descending keel. The deck, benches and mast were removed. There were spiked rudder supports along the gunwales in the forward and aft sections, suggesting that there might have been positions for forty oarsmen. The middle chamber had wooden walls at both ends and a roof, which was probably sloping and although it was destroyed, it was full of treasures: Byzantine silverware, magnificent gold jewellery, a sumptuous banquet set and, above all, a decorated iron helmet. This exceptional burial from the early 600s clearly recalls a leading figure of the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of East Anglia. It may even have belonged to a king. The burial can only be dated on the basis of the coins that were found there.

One of two shoulder claps, British Museum, London

These sword was found on the right side of the not longer excisting Body, British Museum, London

There was a purse among the burial goods, which contained 37 gold coins, 3 coin-shaped blanks, and 2 small gold ingots. The presence of the coin-shaped blanks suggests that the number of coins was deliberately rounded up to 40. The coins cannot be dated closely, but seem to have been deposited at some point between around 610-635.

Ornamental parts of a belt- The Shield with a metal rim and gilded copper alloy, gold and garnet fittings.The original board, made from lime wood covered in animal hide, perished and has been replaced with a modern replica, British Museum, London

They all come from the kingdom of the Merovingian Franks on the Continent, rather than any English kingdom, although coin production had started in Kent by this time. Sutton Hoo was in the kingdom of East Anglia and the coin dates suggest that it may be the burial of King Raedwald, who died around 625.

The coins and ingots were found inside the purse. Analysis of their gold content and date of minting point towards the period around AD 610–635 - This purse lid would have been attached to a leather pouch which originally hung from a waist-belt. The Frankish gold coins were found inside. Only the gold frame and catch survive, the leather pouch had decayed. British Museum, London

However, this did not end the excavation; these excavations continue to this day, even if not continuously. 1984-1993 several large excavations were carried out by Martin Carver from the University of York which, in addition to an intact grave of a young man with horse and weapons in tumulus 17, uncovered a cemetery at tumulus 5 which contained 16 bodies.

Although the acidic soil had long-since consumed most of the human remains, fragile outlines of bodies, picked out in dark sand, could still be seen in the graves

These people were executed there and their bodies had been preserved as sand moulds called Sandmen. Not the whole area has been excavated until today, so more finds are to be expected.

#early medieval history #sutton hoo #7th century #anglo saxon #ship burial

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destiniesfic · 4 years ago

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4, 9, 22, 41 😗✌🏼

4. Do you write original stories as well?

I mean I have and I will again, someday, which may be tomorrow or might be next month or next year, who knows. I had to write 4/5ths of a novella senior year of college and burnt out on that so I am not totally optimistic, but I just wrote Out of Time in a way that was kind of comparable to drafting a novel so it could still happen.

9. What are your favorite fanfics?

The first ones to come to mind are Marvel fics: tin soldiers and Reconstruction (both Stucky fics) are both tooootally different takes on what you can do to the source material with the medium of fic and I love them very much for that. On the Reylo front, miles from where you are by Mooncactus and the inimitable fetch are a couple of my faves, plus Play to Win although it’s now been taken down.

22. Do you listen to music during your writing process? What music do you listen to while you’re writing?

The answer to this question is “kind of!” I build playlists around my fics — here’s Out of Time’s, for example, pure angst — but I usually listen to them in the empty spaces around writing, like when I’m cooking or taking a walk or cleaning, so I can stay in the right mood. (Although a lot of my empty space for OoT was taken up with audiobooks to research irl Russian and Soviet autocracy...)

41. What is something you don’t like about your writing?

I sometimes don’t feel like it’s very textured! I’ll read other books and wonder how the authors can so vividly construct not just a physical space but the way it sounds and smells and how they know the precise names of plants. I feel like I labor so much over that stuff. I guess I’m just not there yet!

#fanfic writer ask game #nicky coming in with the tough questions!#amandlas #ask

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fandom-necromancer · 5 years ago

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786. continuation

This was prompted by the amazing @aurea-b! Some hospital cuddles for you!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 part1

Nines had been allowed leave for the time Gavin was at the hospital. Fowler had been understanding, speaking of an emotional compromised state Nines didn’t experience. Of course, he worried about Gavin. Of course, he still reconstructed the events from that day and counted his mistakes, what he could and should have done to prevent this. But he was able to work, could have wrapped up that case, could have written the reports.

Instead he now had to stay in his room, filled only by a stasis unit, an empty bookcase and an armchair (his attempt to find himself a hobby). He could have spent his time until Gavin’s recovery in stasis, but the human sent him little messages whenever he was awake and not surrounded by doctors. He didn’t want to miss any of them, even if most were just: I’m bored tin-can. What are you doing at the moment? Any news at the precinct? Nines answered them immediately, but his lack of stories to tell was a bit problematic. It often shifted to the man sending him random photos and jokes he didn’t always understand.

Hey, Nines, would you mind visiting me sometime? I’m sick of seeing only nurses and sick people. Nines stared at the notification in his HUD, not really sure what to make of it. Also, I’m still mad at you for leaving last time. He sent a winking smiley afterwards, that had Nines immediately thinking of his overly emotional reaction. He didn’t regret it at all, the opposite even: He wanted more. Still it felt… weird thinking back at it. I will visit you as soon as I can make it, Nines send back as if he had anything that would keep him from getting the next taxi over to the hospital immediately. Well… Maybe he had. He researched what was common practise if someone dear was in hospital. Apparently, gifts were necessary. Flowers to make the room more homely. Nines rushed through several articles, gathering information until he felt adequately prepared. I’ll be there in two hours, I still have something to get from the mall.

To say he was bored was an understatement. He was too bored to fall asleep and God knew he needed that break to catch up on it. He was perfectly rested, and the pain medication did its part in making him restless. He ached to move, the walk down to the cafeteria just wasn’t enough to calm this urge. Nines immediate answers helped to calm his nerves a bit. Did the android wait for them? Or was it simply the fact that every text pinged in his head directly and the most advanced android Cyberlife ever created was probably able to multitask. But the thought of that kiss, of the stoic android that emotional over him being shot… Oh, if that didn’t just do the best things to him. He hoped it wasn’t just confusion that had prompted the android to behave like that. Maybe there just had been an overload of emotions and something had snapped. Or maybe, just maybe… Maybe there was more.

He turned in his bed, scrolling through stuff on his phone, playing mindless games, scrolling some more until he was even more bored than before. Maybe a quick nap? Gavin yawned without being tired and closed his eyes. God, he couldn’t wait until Nines finally arrived. Maybe he had smuggled some work out of the precinct. Something he could occupy his mind with. Maybe he went shopping first to get him some coffee that wasn’t just the solvable instant shit he had on his room. Ah, phck, just seeing a familiar face would be more than enough. He shook his head and pulled up the blankets to carefully cover his bandaged torso. Just a quick nap to let the time pass faster.

Nines sat in a chair next to Gavin’s bed and waited, just silently observing the sleeping human. Scans of his vitals showed him, the wounds were healing slowly, the body regenerating cell after cell to restore him. It also handed him further information: The man’s usual bags under his eyes had disappeared now that he got enough sleep, he looked more relaxed and at peace than Nines had ever seen him, although constantly laying in bed had him tense with energy.

He just waited, not daring to wake the man up. He just sat there, observing. Once Gavin turned in his sleep his arm hung loose over the blanket, hand resting next to his face. Nines knew what he was about to do wasn’t [logical], not [professional] at all and probably an overall bad idea. But it didn’t take long until he gave in to the urge and gently brushed over Gavin’s hand from the wrist to his fingers. He repeated the motion carefully, but this time the human stirred and grabbed his hand, holding it loosely. Nines looked up to his face startled, but there was only a smile as he began to wake up.

‘Morning, tin-can’, he mumbled with half-lidded eyes, squeezing the android’s hand. Nines looked out for any sign this was wrong, but when Gavin’s face turned into a display of shock, it wasn’t directed at him, but behind his body. Immediately Gavin was fully awake and sat up, Nines’ hand still in his. ‘Err… Nines, what is all this?’ The android turned, and his LED turned yellow.

There were two large bouquets of flowers, brightly coloured balloons with several different takes of “get well soon” printed all over them, a few cards, a basket of sweets and just to top it all off a stuffed bandaged teddy holding a sign that said “I wuv u” with the worst uwu-expression on it’s face. Gavin looked from the gifts to Nines and back. ‘The phck?’ ‘According to my research it is custom to bring gifts when a loved one is in hospital.’ Gavin laughed openly. ‘Nines, ONE gift, if at all. Looks like you bought the whole store!’ ‘The site didn’t specify on the amount’, Nines admitted without any sign of regret. ‘Hah, I see that. Hey, Nines, it almost looks like I’m popular now!’ Nines looked down on his hand. ‘Didn’t your brother come?’ ‘He doesn’t know. I didn’t tell him.’ ‘Gavin, always being alone isn’t healthy.’ ‘Yeah, tell me about it. I guess you are just as alone at the precinct. Although I guess you got Connor.’ ‘I got leave from work, Gavin’, he answered. ‘I’m staying home.’ ‘Oh.’ Gavin looked confused for a moment, then chuckled. ‘Guess that’s nice.’ ‘It isn’t’, the android shook his head. ‘I don’t know what to do. I just… I often recall what happened. I could have prevented it. You could be fine now, had I reacted differently.’

The grip on his hand got stronger, bordered pain as Gavin looked up to that red LED. ‘Shit, Nines, hey! You are alright, okay? I am too. I’m alive, am I not? I… Hey, Nines? Get the teddy.’ Taken aback, the android followed the order and handed it to Gavin, who inspected it, then held it close. ‘Now come on, get in here.’ Again, the android nodded and did as told. Only then, the memories of the incident were lost to him and the human leaned against him. ‘Nines? Thank you for the gifts, they are awesome. And thank you for coming. But you know what? This also has something fantastic about it: You don’t have anywhere to be, right?’ Nines nodded, watching how Gavin ran his fingers over the stitched letters. ‘Then I have you all for myself and you don’t have an excuse to leave, right?’ Nines smiled and nodded again. ‘That appears to be correct, Detective.’ ‘Hell yeah.’

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #The cashier at the store: Oh shit how many people has this poor android in hospital? Poor thing #Nines: Is this enough? Maybe I should get more? Maybe this is a bit too subtle Gav is dense as fuck after all...

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tristis-333 · 5 years ago

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RWBY VOL7 Chap 12 rewrite. Because why not?

I want to preface this by saying I have seen the comments made by Eddy Rivas that were shared by fairgame-is-canon. I plan to make another post talking about my reaction to what Eddy said because I do have mixed feelings. Some sympathetic, some a lot less so.

But for now I thought I’d throw my hat in the rewrite ring. In the midst of all this I’ve seen a lot of people posting rewrites, and AUs and I’ve been loving it. I love to see creators taking initiative and putting their own spin on things. And you know, we’re pirates here. When the canon screws us over we just steal the ship.

My take is not really to do a full reconstruction of what happens through out chapter 12. Because I actually was enjoying the chapter until the very last scene. A lot of people don’t like that Clover doesn’t even seem to question Ironwoods orders but I actually think the choice is the more interesting one and has a lot of potential for more characterization for Clover. It’s just potential CRWBY will never capitalize on now.

But we are going to be positive for a change and actually try to see where this story thread could go, at least a little. So the scenario plays out a lot of the same way it does in the original chapter. Clover gets his orders and, albeit reluctantly, goes to arrest Qrow and Robyn. Tyrion crashes the ship, Qrow and Clover start fighting, and Tyrion does his creepy thumb thing.

But the first big change is that when THE DERANGE SERIAL KILLER joins the fight the two professional huntsmen know where their priorities are and don’t actively help the serial killer attack each other. But, that being said, they still aren’t working together. Its less their actively going after each other and more like they don’t care if the other gets caught up in their attacks. And Tyrion see this and takes advantage of it. We see how clever Tyrion can be in a fight now, tripping up his assailants and throwing them into each other.

And because his emotions are running so high Qrow’s semblance is going crazy. And not just his, but Clovers as well. Clover has shown having more direct control of his semblance than Qrow but because his adrenaline and thoughts are racing so much his semblance keep acting out now as well, visualized by his charm continuing to twinkle like a blinker. So the fight keeps swing in and out of each combatants favor. They keep tripping, landing hits they shouldn’t have, and a lot of other crazy fun the animators could have.

This part of the fight ends with Qrow slicing off Tyrion’s tail again, (seriously why did they let him keep that thing?) and ,seemingly, knocking the gremlin man out. With the bigger threat down Qrow thinks might be the chance to defuse tension and bring everything back down to earth. He turns to try to talk to Clover but Clover is still on the attack and here is where we get a proper Qrow vs Clover fight scene. Because, and I say this with love, RWBY has always, and always will be about cool fight scenes at its foundation. And seeing two professional fighter going at each other is too good an opportunity to pass.

So we get an amazing fight scene and it ends very much the same as in the original chapter. Qrow goes in and looks like he’s about to cut through Clover with Harbinger but than he makes the choice to instead clock Clover in the jaw and breaks his aura and we get an extended version of the original scene.

“Why couldn’t you just do the right thing, instead of just doing what your told?!” Clover screams out.

“Sometimes,” Clover struggles to stand. “The right choice is the hardest to make. I trust James with my life!” Clover turns to Qrow and lifts up his weapon ready to keep fighting. “I wanted to trust you to.”

Qrow is out of breath. He can’t keep going like this. This has to end.

“You can.” Qrow takes his Harbinger and plants it in the ground and starts walking towards Clover with his arms up.

“Don’t Qrow!” Clover warns taking a step closer himself.

“Just think about this Cloves! Does any of this feel right to you?”

“I’m a soldier Qrow. I have my orders. What I feel doesn’t matter…”

“BULLSHIT!” Qrow cuts Clover off. He’s close enough now where Clover could easily strike at him. “You can trust me Cloves. What does your heart say?”

Clover arm shakes as he tightens his grip on his weapon. He struggles with the decision, gritting his teeth, and yelling as he lifts his weapon up and plans in the ground beside him. His breathing heavily, emotionally and physically exhausted. Qrow is hesitant to make another move, but slowly lets his arms down.

“Meeting you was either the best luck of my life, or the worse.” Clover says rubbing his brow.

“I get that a lot.” Qrow tries to smile to ease the tension still in the air and actually manages to get a smirk out of Clover. The fight is over at last. Or so it seems, until a hail of arrows fly past Qrow and barely miss Clover. The two turn to see Robyn awake with her weapon raise, ready to fire again.

“Robyn wait! Everything’s okay now!” Qrow raises his arms and tries to get her to stop, but Robyn is furious.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe that. This tin soldier just got our plane crashed, and us nearly killed! He’s lucky he’s not a pin cushion right now.”

“Robyn please, the fighting it’s over we’re all on the same side again. Always have been.” Qrow keeps trying to calm Robyn but she’s reluctant to put her weapon down but eventually lower her arm.

“Can we decide who’s on whose side and stick with it for more than a day?” Robyn asks with a glare on her face. The other two huntsmen sigh with relief and Qrow turns back towards Clover whose keeping his eyes to the ground. His usual confidence is crushed. “We should…” Qrow starts to speak up to get things back on track, “find Callows and get him back to Atlas before finding out what’s going on with James.” Clover flinches at Ironwoods name, but eventually lifts his head.

“Yeah we should,” Clover turns to where Tyrion fell, but now he’s gone, and his tail with him. Tracks and blood can be seen trailing off into the distance. In the midst of Qrow and Clover’s fight he slinked away. Robyn, infuriated, marches to Clover and clocks him in the jaw and starts screaming.

“You idiot! This is all your fault!”

“Robyn, I told you now’s not the time!” Qrow gets in between her and Clover.

“Oh, don’t give me that crap! If it weren’t for your boyfriend here, Callows would be behind bars in Atlas by now!”

“Robyn, right now we need to,” Qrow tries to calm her down but is cut off by Clover.

“No, she’s right. Everything here is my fault.” Qrow can hardly believes what he’s hearing. Clover just looks so broken and shattered. He looks like how Qrow used to.

“You shouldn’t do that, you know.” Qrow says. Clover lift his gaze to look at Qrow with a confused look on his face. “This is James’ fault not yours. He’ll take the fall for this.” Clover doesn’t know what to make of this. But he takes a breath a recollects himself enough to stand tall again.

“Boys,” Robyn calls out, “I’d tell you to get a room, but we’ve got company.” The two men look up to see two Atlas airships heading towards them.

“Great more trouble.” Qrow groans.

“Quick,” Clover speaks up. “Put your hands behind your back.” Robyn and Qrow turn to Clover with wide eyes.

“Are you kidding me?” Qrow asks bewildered.

“See! I told you we couldn’t trust him!” Robyn lifts her weapon back up and takes aim.

“Look,” Clover raise his head to stop her, “unless you want to fight every last Atlesian officer and droid between here and Atlas, I need you do what I say.”

“Cloves please don’t do this.” Qrow pleads. Clover turns his gaze to Qrow to look him in the eyes.

“You said I could trust you, I need you to trust me.” They hold each other’s gaze for a moment but Qrow eventually yields.

“Do as he says Robyn.”

“Have you lost your mind?!”

“DO IT!” Qrow snaps back. Robyn is taken aback but slowly lowers her arms and places them behind her back. We than cut to Clover escorting Qrow, in cuffs, towards the ship.

“Don’t make me regret this.” Qrow whispers to Clover.

“Trust me, this is the last thing I wanted when I thought about tying you up again.” Clover smirks. Qrow turns to him a little wide eyed.

“Did you just?” Qrow starts to form a question but his brain is a little fried but what Clover just said.

“Well according to Robyn I’m your boyfriend so…” Clover turns to look at Qrow and gives a wink. Qrow noticeably blushes and turns his head away to hide it.

“She was just angry.”

“So you don’t want me to be your boyfriend?” Clover asks teasingly

“I didn’t… I was just, look now is not the time for this talk Cloves.” Qrow stammers over his words.

“So, you’re saying that there will be a time to have this talk.”

Qrow doesn’t respond right away but gives his own smirk as they reach the ship. Before Qrow is led onto the ship but the newly arrived Atlas soldiers Clover whispers in his ear.

“Good luck.” And Qrow has a moment to turn back a see Clover’s face once more time before the doors of the ship close. Clover starts to make his way towards the other ship where the Atlas soldiers are standing in salute.

“What are your orders sir?” They ask Clover. Clover thinks for a second.

“We’re heading back to Atlas. I need to have a word with the General.”

The last thing we see is Clover sitting on the ship. He holds his charm in his hand running his thumb along it. And he looks up with a conflicted look as the ship takes off towards Atlas.

So that took longer to write than I thought. And if you’ve made it this far, I do appreciate it. I wanted to still leave the scene on a uncertain note, like in the original, so we have more stuff to play with in Vol8. I tried to mostly introduce more internal conflict for Clover, as it’s still kind of ambiguous as to whose side he’s going to be on. That of the man he trust, or the man he’s come to care about?

And also EXPLICIT FLIRTING. That’s right folks we’re actually saying the dreaded “B” word. What a crazy notion right. Hope you’ve enjoyed this and I’ll be working on my response to the Eddy Rivas thread soon.

#rwby #rwby volume 7 #qrow x clover #clover ebi #clover deserved better #qrow branwen #fair game #fairgame #lgbt representation matters #I didn't have anyone read through this first #so don't mess with me #I will cry

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afiercepen · 5 years ago

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WIP(s) Intro: Liber Elementa

the long awaited post

Liber Elementa is the name of my future show(hopefully!) and its universe of stories based on the Periodic Table of Elements.

It revolves around a group of immortal young adults who each represent an element of the periodic table. Each and every element possesses a lively and layered personality which fuels each of their stories as they wrestle to reconcile their element with their humanity. (I really love each and everyone of these dweebs :)) Tentatively, the final goal is to produce a show where various stories are told over multiple episodes revolving around different characters(hopefully it’s not confusing though!!!).

Though I find it hard to pin down an age range as there are so many different personalities abound, it is definitely more mature and recommended for older teens and up for safe measure, though some of it is tame enough for teens, it just depends on what characters you are dealing with. The themes are treated maturely and in depth dealing with death, morality, immortality, love, and identity among many others. As genres, it can fit under action, slice-of-life, drama, romance ;), comedy(bc it can’t be all deep and gritty yo) and historical at times. But what mostly determines the feel of a story is the characters that comprise it.

So let’s introduce the pilot and other stories below.

Liber Elementa Pilot:

This is the first episode of the show and most likely a test run of what the show will look like. Eventually, I desire for it to be animated with voice acting and music and all that fun jazz.

It is written in script form to make transfer onto the screen easier.

Right now, I’m writing a new script from scratch. Liber Elementa is actually a couple of years old and as its grown, it’s gone through many forms and it continues to evolve. Thus there are actually a few, 3 to be precise, iterations of the 1st episode script that are outdated and lacking direction. I’ve decided to reboot the original first story premise with lots of scrapping of old ideas and reconstructing, in certain cases, characters. As I’ve grown as a writer, it makes me proud to see how far I’ve come, but it also necessitates this new re-haul.

So here’s the actual exciting part: what it’s about.

It revolves two groups of characters: one is the “DNA squad” comprising of Carbon, Oxygen, Hydrogen, Phosphorus and Nitrogen. The other is Silicon and his “employees” Tin and Indium who work of Silex Corp.

It takes the place in the modern era as they face the consequences of their pasts and the decisions they must make in the ever-changing times. I haven’t quite figured out everything yet, but Silicon has a very important role as we are in the information age.

It’s more lighthearted and full of found family, antics and bad puns.

Hopefully, I’ll post someday profiles for them :3

Other works:

The Earth and the Sun

A separate post will be made in depth about The Earth and the Sun, but it’s a little idea that grew into a full blown story that I’ve been writing to try out my story skills.

Status: First draft (20,000 words so far)

Synopsis: Some names are famously embedded in the human psyche, yet Tellurium, obscure and seemingly forgettable, wishes to hide in obscurity. But when instead he finds himself entangled with the affluent and arrogant Gold, he is forced to question the reality he believes in and the buried past that fosters it.

Ambition

Status: First draft (1,500 words so far)

Synopsis: Edvard Jordsten’s short life has not added up to much so far, but he believes he’s destined for greatness. After a bout of fatal winter illness, he finds himself thrust into the strange world of the elements and assuming the name of the recently discovered element silicon. It turns out finding his place in the world is harder than he thought, but he’s not going to let that stop him.

Liber Elementa Inversion

That werid crazy AU for experimenting. It’s not really canon in any sense, but it’s basically the premise of the DNA squad being the headline good guys turned on its head. Instead, it’s a world where they strike the death and fear in the hearts of the elements in a dark post-apocalyptic atmosphere. Ah yes, smell that good angst?

Short stories:

The Executioner(Completed)

Summary: It is an executioner’s job to put others to death and today is no exception.

Burnt Cookies(Completed)

Summary: When the battle is over and won, finding your footing again is difficult, especially when the world cannot let yourself forgive and forget the sins you’ve committed.

~~~

Well, by no means is this list complete! There are plenty of story arc ideas that I haven’t written out solid substance and many WIPs I’ve put off to the side during the busy year I’ve had. This is most likely my working master post where I’ll eventually link WIPs and add and subtract as things come and go in my immediate radar.

For tags, all things Liber Elementa(aka under this post) will be tagged #liber elementa and #LE. The pilot will be tagged the same with “pilot” attached.

Any OCs mentioned in the post be #oc: *character name here*

For individual WIPs, they will be tagged with lowercase names and properly capitalized abbreviations, for example The Earth and the Sun posts will be tagged with #the earth and the sun and #TEatS

Thank you for reading!

Next is most likely going to be introducing The Earth and the Sun and its main cast. :D

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oberlincollegelibraries · 6 years ago

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Sunday Edition: True Crime

This week we are exploring a darker subject: murder and the people who commit it. Below you will find case studies and memoirs, all based on true events. If you would like to check out even more true crime books, head up to the 3rd floor of the Terrell Main Library and start browsing around the HV6499 section.

And to the all the Oberlin Murderinos out there, remember.... SSDGM.

The Courtesan and the Gigolo: the Murders in the Run Montaigne and the Dark Side of Empire in Nineteenth-Century Paris by Aaron Freundschuh: The intrigue began with a triple homicide in a luxury apartment building just steps from the Champs-Elyseés, in March 1887. A high-class prostitute and two others, one of them a child, had been stabbed to death—the latest in a string of unsolved murders targeting women of the Parisian demimonde. Newspapers eagerly reported the lurid details, and when the police arrested Enrico Pranzini, a charismatic and handsome Egyptian migrant, the story became an international sensation. As the case descended into scandal and papers fanned the flames of anti-immigrant politics, the investigation became thoroughly enmeshed with the crisis-driven political climate of the French Third Republic and the rise of xenophobic right-wing movements.

Aaron Freundschuh's account of the "Pranzini Affair" recreates not just the intricacies of the investigation and the raucous courtroom trial, but also the jockeying for status among rival players—reporters, police detectives, doctors, and magistrates—who all stood to gain professional advantage and prestige. Freundschuh deftly weaves together the sensational details of the case with the social and political undercurrents of the time, arguing that the racially charged portrayal of Pranzini reflects a mounting anxiety about the colonial "Other" within France's own borders. Pranzini's case provides a window into a transformational decade for the history of immigration, nationalism, and empire in France.

The Subject of Murder: Gender, Exceptionality, and the Modern Killer by Lisa Downing: The subject of murder has always held a particular fascination for us. But, since at least the nineteenth century, we have seen the murderer as different from the ordinary citizen—a special individual, like an artist or a genius, who exists apart from the moral majority, a sovereign self who obeys only the destructive urge, sometimes even commanding cult followings. In contemporary culture, we continue to believe that there is something different and exceptional about killers, but is the murderer such a distinctive type? Are they degenerate beasts or supermen as they have been depicted on the page and the screen? Or are murderers something else entirely?

In The Subject of Murder, Lisa Downing explores the ways in which the figure of the murderer has been made to signify a specific kind of social subject in Western modernity. Drawing on the work of Foucault in her studies of the lives and crimes of killers in Europe and the United States, Downing interrogates the meanings of media and texts produced about and by murderers. Upending the usual treatment of murderers as isolated figures or exceptional individuals, Downing argues that they are ordinary people, reflections of our society at the intersections of gender, agency, desire, and violence.

The Red Parts: Autobiography of a Trial by Maggie Nelson: Late in 2004, Maggie Nelson was looking forward to the publication of her book Jane: A Murder, a narrative in verse about the life and death of her aunt, who had been murdered thirty-five years before. The case remained unsolved, but Jane was assumed to have been the victim of an infamous serial killer in Michigan in 1969. Then, one November afternoon, Nelson received a call from her mother, who announced that the case had been reopened; a new suspect would be arrested and tried on the basis of a DNA match. Over the months that followed, Nelson found herself attending the trial with her mother and reflecting anew on the aura of dread and fear that hung over her family and childhood--an aura that derived not only from the terrible facts of her aunt's murder, but also from her own complicated journey through sisterhood, daughterhood, and girlhood. The Red Parts is a memoir, an account of a trial, and a provocative essay that interrogates the American obsession with violence and missing white women, and that scrupulously explores the nature of grief, justice, and empathy NoteReprint. Originally published: Free Press, 2007. With new preface.

Outrage in Ohio: a Rural Murder, Lynching, and Mystery by David Kimmel: On a hot and dusty Sunday in June 1872, 13-year-old Mary Secaur set off on her two-mile walk home from church. She never arrived. The horrific death of this young girl inspired an illegal interstate pursuit-and-arrest, courtroom dramatics, conflicting confessions, and the daylight lynching of a traveling tin peddler and an intellectually disabled teenager. Who killed Mary Secaur? Were the accused actually guilty? What drove the citizens of Mercer County to lynch the suspects?

David Kimmel seeks answers to these provoking questions and deftly recounts what actually happened in the fateful summer of 1872, imagining the inner workings of the small rural community, reconstructing the personal relationships of those involved, and restoring humanity to this gripping story. Using a unique blend of historical research and contemporary accounts, Outrage in Ohio explores how a terrible crime ripped an Ohio farming community apart and asks us to question what really happened to Mary Secaur.

Listening to Killers: Lessons Learned From My Twenty Years As a Psychological Expert Witness In Murder Cases by James Garbarino: Listening to Killers offers an inside look at twenty years' worth of murder files from Dr. James Garbarino, a leading expert psychological witness who listens to killers so that he can testify in court. The author offers detailed accounts of how killers travel a path that leads from childhood innocence to lethal violence in adolescence or adulthood. He places the emotional and moral damage of each individual killer within a larger scientific framework of social, psychological, anthropological, and biological research on human development. By linking individual cases to broad social and cultural issues and illustrating the social toxicity and unresolved trauma that drive some people to kill, Dr. Garbarino highlights the humanity we share with killers and the role of understanding and empathy in breaking the cycle of violence.

Fatal Love: Spousal Killers, Law, and Punishment in the Late Colonial Spanish Atlantic by Victor M. Uribe-Uran: For historians, spousal murders are significant for what they reveal about social and family history, in particular the hidden history of day-to-day gender relations, conflicts, crimes, and punishments. Fatal Love examines this phenomenon in the late colonial Spanish Atlantic, focusing on incidents occurring in New Spain (colonial Mexico), New Granada (colonial Colombia), and Spain from the 1740s to the 1820s. In the more than 200 cases consulted, it considers not only the social features of the murders, but also the legal discourses and judicial practices guiding the historical treatment of spousal murders, helping us understand the historical intersection of domestic violence, private and state/church patriarchy, and the law.

For those of you who don’t want to get out of bed this Sunday morning, Fatal Love and Listening to Killers are both available as electronic resources as well.

#oberlin college libraries #sunday edition #reading recommendations #true crime #murderino #ssdgm

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veliseraptor · 7 years ago

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okay, been meaning to make this post for ages so finally buffing this off (har, har) and posting these recs over here for @jaggedcliffs. (old fics, basically just ported from my very old Livejournal reading list.)

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER/ANGEL FICS

Disclaimer one: a lot of these are very old and I haven’t reread most of them in a while. Disclaimer two: most of these are Angel-centric and most of them are also Angel/Buffy. Disclaimer three: no I think that’s about all the disclaimers.

Backstage 26: Walking After Midnight by Aadler

Sometimes the enemy you can count on is the friend you need most. Angel+Xander.

Windows to the Soul by HonorH

Kate is of two minds concerning Angel at the end of "Somnambulist."

One Lucky Guy by HonorH

During Riley's visit to Spike's crypt in "Into the Woods," Spike lets Riley in on a few things re: love, hate, vampires in general, and Angel in particular.

Artistry by Estepheia

Rumors of another souled vampire lure Angel back to Sunnydale. Set in an alternate S7.

Damnation's Castaway Awakening by Kairos Impending

Angel is back from Hell. Buffy does what she can.

That Chanuka Spirit by Katriena Knights

Xander confronts Angel. Somewhere between "Lover's Walk" and "Amends."

The Chat by Katriena Knights

Joyce learns the truth about Angel, and confronts him about his relationship with Buffy. S3, somewhere post Amends.

This Innocent by Eurydice

Giles is confronted for his betrayal of Buffy, and does some confronting of his own.

Grief That Does Not Speak by Estepheia

What else could bring them together? Angel+Giles, post-The Gift.

Ties That Bind by chrisleeoctaves

Angel/Buffy, post Not Fade Away.

And All the World Besides by Willa

Spike and Angel after the battle. Spike/Angel, post NFA.

Baker's Dozen by chrislee

Buffy/Angel, post Not Fade Away.

Smoke Damage by Kairos

Something very personal got left behind in the wreckage of Angel's LA apartment. Now it's resurfaced, and it may be all that's left of him. Kate, post-Not Fade Away.

Waiting to Exhale by biggrstaffbunch

Buffy might never get over Angel (or Spike, as this story suggests) but in the end- she must still choose to live her life. Post Not Fade Away.

Guilt Trembling Spoke My Doom by a2zmom

Angel's post NFA journey (and his reunion with Buffy). Angel, post Not Fade Away Shanshu.

Kindred by Ares

Buffy is in Los Angeles one week after Angel and his team stood and fought in that alley.

Intermezzo by Maren

Intermezzo: a short dramatic, musical, or other entertainment of light character, introduced between the acts of a drama or opera. Buffy/Angel.

If I Had Another Chance by Fleur

Angel's been through so much that he isn't sure what redemption is any longer. Buffy/Angel, post NFA.

Ever After by White Rain

"Did you draw up visitation rights?" Connor asked casually. "True, it's normally reserved for kids. But I've learned not to take anything for granted recently."

In the Waiting by R Ellen Hanna

Angel does therapy.

Reflections Revealed by Mike Dewar

Angel finds himself transported into the realm of the Wishverse by an unknown force, leaving him fighting for his life in the much darker reflection of his world. Meanwhile, Wesley and Cordelia, with the help of an old friend, try to fend off a new enemy, who's hungry for revenge and about to strike at a weakened A.I...

Bloodbath by Kelsey

After the return of Angel's soul in "Orpheus," everything seems to return to normal. But what's going on in Angel's head, after Angelus' ruthless actions?

Here, Your Wandering One by Marenfic

Several years after the events of Not Fade Away, Buffy moves to San Francisco and does her best to try to grow up and move on. Buffy/Angel.

Talk Like Lions by WesleysGirl

It's Buffy's turn to remind Angel how to be strong. Buffy/Angel, post NFA.

What Am I To You by a2zmom

When Angel unexpectedtly shows up at Buffy's door, she realizes how little she knows him and wonders if she ever did. Buffy/Angel, post-NFA.

Gamble On Destiny by Leni

Suppose Angel avoided getting staked, and then managed to save Buffy from the Master. The story starts an hour after the worst of the battle has passed.

Revolutions by bite_or_avoid

So, she was a little late for the first act. But it totally wasn’t her fault. It’s not like anyone called to invite her, right? Buffy/Angel, post-NFA.

Weight of Life by bite_or_avoid

Absolution is not his to have. Post-NFA. Angel, Buffy/Angel, angst with a happy ending.

And Heaven Burns by Lar

How bright can the future be for Angel?

Miles To Go by Rachel Anton

Two souled vampires with a long way to go. Angel/Spike, post-Grave/Tomorrow.

Secrets We Keep by chrisleeoctaves

Giles and Angel share a secret.

Left Behind by chrisleeoctaves

Angel/human!Spike, post-NFA.

The Confessional by tkp

Angel visits Faith in prison.

Splinter by Yahtzee and Rheanna

"listen; there's a hell / of a good universe next door; let's go" - e. e. cummings. Longfic.

Counting the Days by Dira Sudis

Dawn needs to get out of the house, so Spike takes her to L.A. Dawn and Spike/Angel (and company), post-The Gift.

Five Times Angel Drew Buffy by a2zmom

Drawing her was the only way he got to keep her. Through post-NFA.

A Human Condition by chrisleeoctaves

Post-NFA. Why we fight. Spike/Angel.

Stasis by Head Rush

Picks up immediately where 'Grave' leaves off. Giles and Willow (and others), post Grave.

Five Ways Buffy and Angel Never Meet and Never Have to Say I Love You, Post NFA by LAndrews

What it says on the tin.

Testament by Beer Good

The Angel gang's last stand didn't go unnoticed, especially given their last communications on the eve of the battle. Two letters and a phone call force the survivors to re-evaluate their situation.

Best Souvenir by Lettered

Whistler never existed. Buffy meets Angel for the first time after the End of Days is over. Futurefic, alternate reality.

Orion by sweptawaybayou

Spike/Angel, post-NFA, angst.

Summerbreeze by doyle_sb4

Spike/Angel, human!Spike, post-NFA.

Vampire Winter by glassdarkly

On the run from Wolfram & Hart, Angel and Spike come to Rome intent on seeing Buffy. Spike/Angel, Angel/Buffy, Buffy/Spike, post-NFA.

Five Ways to Kiss the One You Love: A Valentine by seraphcelene

The kisses Buffy and Angel have exchanged over the course of their relationship have a story to tell. Angel/Buffy.

Valley of Ashes by Hannassus

Post-episode for "The Gift"/"There's No Place Like Plrtz Glrb."

Reconstruction by AriaAdagio

Post-Epiphany. The A-team struggles to get back on track, but with Angel's soul in jeopardy, things are tense, at best.

Rough Magic by karabair

Season 5, post-"Origin," Angel and Wesley have a talk about the aftermath of the memory wipe.

Those We Wish Were Here With Us by Kairos Impending

Buffy wanders around a post-Apocalyptic wasteland with her loved ones, doing what they do best.

Windows to the Soul by Taaroko

Wishverse. Thanks to better timing with her crossbow than she demonstrated in the episode, Buffy takes out the Master in one shot. She and Angel survive to continue the battle for Sunnydale another day.

Saved the World, But I Never Saved You by thenyxie

There are some things in life you never get over. This is one of them. Buffy/Angel, post series.

vicarious (the buffy-in-the-mix remix) by lynnenne

Buffy is bossy. Angel and Spike like it. Buffy/Angel/Spike.

Five Ways of Becoming Someone Else by Kyra Cullinan

Five Willows who never were. A study in transformations.

Vivere by Rheanna

What does it mean, to be alive? AU.

Another Life by Rheanna

Even now, she finds it difficult to believe that this is real, this is her life, that this is who she is.

Showing Sunnydale by huzzlewhat

“Tonight, I’m going to tell you a story. And it’s up to you, what you do with it.” Post-series.

No Place Like Home by Chrislee

There’s a curious comfort to be found, in the most unlikely places. Buffy/Angel/Spike. Post-series.

Blood and Water by Rheanna

When LA's vampires start falling prey to a mysterious plague, Cordelia's unsympathetic. Then Angel gets sick, and she and Wesley have to find a cure -- before it's too late.

Prelude With Tears by Katriena Knights

Sensing something is wrong with Buffy, Angel seeks her out in LA, where she's come to attend the Ice Capades with her father. All is not well in Buffyland.

Together Again For the First Time by femmenerd

Buffy/Angel/Spike, post-Not Fade Away.

Cunctari Moribundum by Lint

Willow struggles in the aftermath.

A Brief History of Time (A Love Story) by Lamia Archer

Now she realizes that, had they never met, she wouldn't be. She'd be some other girl, some other Buffy. Buffy/Angel.

All These Things That I’ve Done by Taaroko

Angelus killed the Romani elder woman before she could complete the Ritual of Restoration in 1898. A hundred years later, Janna Kalderash finds the old curse amongst family heirlooms while spring cleaning, and after months of the seemingly unstoppable Fanged Five terrorizing Sunnydale, the Scoobies are desperate enough to use it. Buffy/Angel. AU.

Baked Goods by Leni

Buffy makes a call. "Hi, Angel. If it’s not a bad time – I mean. I probably shouldn’t be calling you. In fact, if you ignore this call, I'll understand. I just - I need…. You know what? Never mind. Forget I called."

#fic rec #btvs #whew formatting this was a trip

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thelightofthingshopedfor · 7 years ago

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I've got 99 problems and the Russo brothers are at least 80 of them (Infinity War spoilers behind the cut, obviously, and also discussion of That Podcast Interview if anyone would rather avoid it)

so the thing is I didn't actually listen to the podcast because I don't hate myself that much and I haven't seen a full transcript, but I got the gist and obviously it was total bullshit. obviously. (Tom is getting too old?? Loki isn't an interesting character anymore???) also obviously, the best thing for my mental health would be to take them at their word, because this whole Schrodinger's Loki thing is not great for my brain, but if I accept he's gone for good and then Avengers 4 does something really great with him, it'll be a wonderful surprise

but I am having a real hard time with that, because at this point my level of okayness with Loki's death mostly seems to depend on me being able to hope that he'll be back, which again is NOT GREAT because it means stuff like that podcast interview, and anything similar that happens during the next YEAR, and probably Avengers 4 itself, can all trigger mood spirals where I realize "wait, fuck, I'm not okay with this"

BUT THE THING IS, I honestly don't think there's any Word of God that would actually convince me of anything before the movie comes out? like, they were pretty definitive in that interview (and apparently kind of insulting to reinforce it, which uh, seems...unprofessional? although again I'm hearing all of this secondhand), but with something like this, I genuinely would not believe them if they said the sky was blue. because...quite often the sky is not blue! in fact the sky is frequently a lot of different colors that are not blue! and it is probably all of those colors simultaneously at different points around the globe! but the general statement "the sky is blue" is still not actually a lie because it doesn't specify anything like "always" or "entirely" or "right now in this exact location"!

so again, it seems pretty definitive to say Loki's permanently dead for real and he's not coming back. except, you know...these movies are based on comics in which characters can come back from death in ways that can technically be handwaved as not actually coming back from the dead? like. he was sorta dead for a few minutes and is already back but nobody knows it, so any discussion presupposing he's for real dead is incorrect to begin with. or that very specific version of him is dead and not coming back but there was time-travel stuff and an extremely similar version of him never died to begin with. or that specific version of him is dead but time-travel stuff is going to unwind things back to the first Avengers movie (because set photos) and that version of Loki is still alive, which...would be shitty but better than nothing. or that version of Loki is dead but he's going to come back as Kid Loki (also not ideal but better than nothing). or that body is permanently dead but he transferred his consciousness to something and he's going to reconstruct his body through, idk, the Reality Stone or something. there are in fact MULTIPLE possibilities that still leave room for "nope he's not coming back" to be technically true.

and then of course there's also the possibility that they're just straight-up, flat-out lying. like, lying in interviews is a little different from releasing misleading trailers or generally being misleading in pre-release interviews, and I really don't know if Marvel people have explicitly lied in pre-release interviews (I’m pretty sure there were some actual straight-up lies tossed around during the Secret Empire clusterfuck, I’m just not sure if that attitude extends to the films), but...they're happy to mislead everyone. and Infinity War is kind of unprecedented in the MCU, in that we literally can't have fully honest postmortem interviews until Avengers 4 comes out because IT'S A TWO-PART STORY. so effectively, even while doing postmortem stuff for Infinity War, we're still leaning into pre-release Avengers 4 stuff, which means...misleading audiences and maybe lying. and maybe lying harder than ever before because it's such a weird situation.

which puts me back to the whole Schrodinger's Loki thing, because...okay. there’s a lot about Loki’s death scene that was fucking weird, to the point that it’s either deliberate foreshadowing or it was an attempt at dramatic irony (combined with bad writing tbh) that was more just about rubbing salt in the wounds of Loki fans. the Russos’ recent comments have not changed this. but they’ve additionally complicated the situation, because just like with Loki’s death scene, the exact same statements could have wildly different meanings and intentions.

like--maybe they said what they said because they’re irritated because Loki’s death was suppose to be ~edgy~ and ~shocking~ and generally horrible but in, like, a heartwrenchingly tragic (and unmistakably final) way rather than a cheap and dumb way, and now people are not only going “hey, that was cheap and dumb” but also “that was really weird, and I bet he’s actually coming back, because he’s done it before and also that was really weird,” and it’s turned into...kind of a weird resentment toward Loki in general, his status as a fan favorite (how dare we love someone other than the title characters, I guess?), his fans, and even Tom Hiddleston himself for playing the character in such a way that he became so loved? so that resentment came out in the interview, the basic meaning of which was “ugh, dumb fans expecting happy fun times like Ragnarok and not understanding the obvious meaning of our deep and tragic art or daring to say our writing is bad instead of being moved, of course he’s dead for reals, he wasn’t an important part of this movie anyway, Loki sucks and so does Tom and so do you for liking Loki more than the actual main characters, so there”

which is unprofessional and shitty and...totally possible; I think @mykingdomforapen pointed out that the AtLA creators kind of went this direction with Zuko/Katara shippers. BUT ON THE OTHER HAND, if--just as a wild for instance--Loki’s death scene really does Mean Something, and he’s going to play a significant part in Avengers 4 and also properly come back to life, and it’s supposed to be a huge amazing surprise for audiences because nobody would expect the non-ashed people to come back, except it turns out that people are already predicting it because this is how fandom works now, sorry, and the Russos and Kevin Feige are basically panicking all “shit wait this was supposed to be a surprise, this was supposed to be huge, we gotta throw everybody off the scent, UHHHHH YEAH WE TOTES KILLED HIM BECAUSE HE’S BORING AND TOM’S GETTING OLD, THAT MAKES SENSE RIGHT, shit do you think they bought it”--

well. again. the exact same statements could have wildly different intentions. and it does sound kind of tin-hatty, admittedly, but at the same time, they won’t even reveal the fucking name of the movie because that’s a spoiler, so obviously they’re keeping Avengers 4 stuff even closer to the vest than Infinity War was. at this point they want us to know basically nothing. and I was thinking, well, what exactly would they say that might be effective in the hypothetical scenario where they still want to keep their secrets despite people already being on the right track, and I really couldn’t come up with anything? because anything like “well we don’t want to give anything away! ;) spoilers!!” would at least confirm it’s a possibility and they might not want to admit even that much.

I don’t know. like I said, this whole Schrodinger’s Loki situation is crazy-making and not very healthy, and the best thing I can do for myself is make peace with canon as it currently exists and go hard on the fix-it AUs while knowing they’re AUs, and not have any expectations one way or another for Avengers 4, but that’s uh...a tiny bit harder to actually do than to say. >_<

#infinity war spoilers #avengers: infinity war #marvel cinematic universe #loki

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antiquatedfuture · 6 years ago

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Summer Solstice Newsletter

NEW ZINES

Canvas & Cassette, Issue Two- Part art journal, part music magazine, part old-school variety zine, Canvas & Cassette has a little something for everyone. ($10)

Covers: Stories About Musicians- Technically a restock, but this highly enjoyable series of comics adapted from music biographies was so popular, we could only keep it in stock for two weeks. Just reprinted and (once again) going fast. ($2)

Empathy Exercise- Places the classroom exercise of putting a blindfold on to imagine being blind against the daily reality of being blind. ($4)

A Few Good Boys: Admiration of Straight White Men and Its Accompanying Dread- In this short illustrated essay, M. Sabine Rear writes about growing up surrounded by art from straight white men and the hoops she had to go through to relate to it. ($4)

Fixer Eraser, Vol. 2- The long-awaited second issue of Fixer Eraser, the latest odds-and-ends zine from Jonas (Cheer the Eff Up, The Greatest Most Traveling Circus), one of the best writers in zines today. ($3)

Fixer Eraser, Vol. 3- A collection of stories and unique bits that sidestep categorization, full of life and surprises. Former superheroes, tortured legends, messages left on small sheets of paper on buses, and so much more. ($3)

Fixer Eraser, Vol. 4- Imagined parenting advice, imagined short stories, and some real stories, some real advice. Where the line between them lies is part of the fun. ($3)

It Only Gets Worse From Here: Fifteen Unspirational Messages to Ruin Your Day- It Only Gets Worse from Here takes the "handwritten inspirational quote art" genre and makes it bleak, lonely, and hilarious. This tiny zine holds 15 unspirational messages to guide you toward your darkest moments. ($2)

Keep Content Off Facebook- A thoughtful zine that asks artists to reexamine how they use Facebook and how Facebook uses them. Not a call to boycott the platform entirely, but to simply think deeply about it and seek solutions beyond it. ($2)

Keep Loving, Keep Fighting #9- In the first issue of Keep Loving, Keep Fighting in ten years Hope combines short, poetic lines about loss, grief, and spirituality with full-color spreads of transcendent mixed-media art. ($5)

Minimum Rock + Roll #9- An interview with Closer, the new project from Real Life Buildings folks. Lots of album reviews. Every Minimum Rock + Roll issue is a tiny good time. ($1)

Minimum Rock + Roll #10- Another little burst of underground music from Olympia's Joshua Hoey and Reflective Tapes. Within: an interview with Don't Love Like Me Records and plenty of reviews. ($1)

Minor Leagues #5- In this, the GIANT fifth issue of Minor Leagues, Simon Moreton's dreamy, time-traveling diary comics blend with long pieces of prose. Within: Finding meaning in place, being in nature, moving through loss, living with ghosts. ($7) My Complicated Relationship With Food, Vol. Four- The return of the most popular zine series we carry. Surprising and bizarre reviews of unremarkable foods. ($1)

Resilient Bastard: Ways to Combat a Brain That is Actively Trying to Kill You- A much-needed zine of writers being very open and honest about depression, suicidal thoughts, and tools for coping. From a great crew of Olympia folks. ($5) Tin Can Telephone #4- A short history of pirate TV intrusions, an interview with Sarah MacDonald of Thrifty Times zine, tape-music history, and much more. ($4) Women in Sound #5- A new issue of Women in Sound zine is always cause for celebration. But this one is perhaps the best yet. Interviews with three of our favorites: Mirah Zeitlyn (as in, indie-pop goddess Mirah), Laetitia Tamko (of Vagabon), and legendary Prince recording engineer Susan Rogers. Plus a whole lot more. ($5)

NEW MUSIC

ABSV- Champion of the Sun- A tribute to Sun Ra by Portland electronic artist and percussionist J Morales, also known as ABSV. Eight pulsing tracks of experimental Afro-house, interweaving live and electronic percussion, synths, bass, and piano into an instant basement dance party. (Cassette + Digital Download) ($8) Badlands- Slow Growth- Her best yet, Slow Growth is a style-hopping album of assured personal pop songs, political anthems, and a Donna Summer self-love mantra cover. (Cassette + Digital Download) ($5) Dump Him- Venus in Retrograde- Live garage-rocky pop-punk from Western Massachusetts' Dump Him. Released on Olympia's Reflective Tapes. (Cassette) ($5)

Family Video- Long Time Listener, First Time Caller- The latest from Newfoundland's Family Video is a masterpiece. Emotionally complex twee-pop that confront loneliness and reimagines the great volcanic winter of 1816. (Cassette + Digital Download) ($5) Hedia- Wool- Sparse and slight, but also sprawling and generous, Hedia's ambient chamber pieces are gifts, through and through. The side project of Bryce Hample of Reighnbeau. (Cassette) ($8)

Orange Daydream: A Tribute To Orange Cake Mix- A split between long-running lo-fi heavyweight Orange Cake Mix and some of the artists that love him. (CD) ($10) Phoxii- Life Eating Death Feeding- The latest album of forward-thinking electronics from Phoxii. Life Eating Death Feeding's broken and reconstructed tracks further asserts Phoxii as living in a musical universe that's entirely her own. (Cassette + Digital Download) ($8)

Reighnbeau- Blood- Blood is Reighbeau at its most lush, most epic. Skittering claps and snaps, pops and clicks, against a cut-up synth symphony. With guest vocals from Colleen Johnson (Flying Circles), Madeline Johnston (Sister Grotto, Midwife), and many others. (Cassette) ($7) Reighnbeau- Fingertips- The latest from Reighbeau, Fingertips is an underwater affair—futuristic nostalgia, cheap earplugs at the rave, worn-out cassettes playing recordings of church organs over a pulsing kick drum. (Cassette) ($7)

Reighnbeau- Hide- Hide is, like its title implies, obscured, secretive, maybe a little shy. Its melodies below the surface, beats pulsing alongside pitch-shifted layers, dozens of distant voices calling out. Guest vocals throughout by Madeline Johnston of Sister Grotto. ($7) Reighnbeau & BK Beats- Sleep- Sleep is the soundtrack to a dream party—feel-good but off-kilter, shiny and hazy, containing only slight resemblances to reality. (Cassette) ($6)

Richard Album- Another Album- Sitting nicely between his garage-pop and synth-pop sides, Another Album finds Richard moving ever forward and swimming in an ocean of tears. (Cassette + Digital Download) ($5)

Various Artists- This Reminds Me: Songs By Linda Smith Reimagined- A tribute album to lo-fi bedroom folk pioneer Linda Smith. A much-deserved 19-track compilation with covers and interpretations from Rose Melberg, and many others (Cassette + Digital Download) ($5)

NEW STICKERS

Drummer Cat Sticker- Leading the band down the street. ($1)

Mushroom Shelter Sticker- Taking shelter under a giant mushroom. As one does.($1)

Spirit Guide Sticker- Meet your spirit guide. ($1)

NEWS *One of our favorite zines around, Syndicate Product, has an open submission call for their long-awaited new issue. Have a book you loathe? This is your chance to tell the world about it.

*Long-time zinester Billy McCall is doing a survey about zine culture and wants everyone involved with zines to participate.

*Our very own Sara Renberg is touring parts of the east coast and midwest this coming week in support of her Night Sands album. Check out her tour schedule and catch a show!

#zine distro #newsletter

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