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apothecarinomicon · 3 years ago

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Spring week 3, part 1

I felt much better this morning. I suppose whatever sickness fairy visions impart is strictly transient—or maybe dealing with reagents has given me a good immune system.

When I went outside, I found that I’d somehow managed to plant the foxsocks in the garden. I don’t know how I could have done it in my feverish state and I certainly don’t remember it, but there it is. The foxsocks seem to be thriving already, or at least to have a solid foothold. As I’d hoped, they should be reliably available from here on out.

As I stood there, sleepily puzzling over the garden, I heard a screech from above. Looking up, I saw what at first appeared to be a large bird circling down towards the ground. When she landed, though, I saw she was a woman with wings instead of arms, talons instead of legs, and a feathered tail, wearing a khaki uniform—a postal harpy. She greeted me while balancing on one leg and asked me to confirm my name. I told her and she introduced herself as Liùsaidh. She indicated I ought to retrieve my mail from her talon (it’s polite to wait for their permission). She asked if I might be sticking around and I said I thought I was. She said she’d see me next time I got mail and flew off.

What she’d brought was a letter, with a return address listed as “The Gleoclas J. Ledgerwood Muſeum of Magicke.” It was a single handwritten (actually, impressively calligraphed) page. The spelling and grammar was, shall we say, characteristic. It’s easier to just stick the letter in between the pages than copy it down, so that’s what I’ll do.

To whom it may concern:

It has come to our attentionne at The Friends of The Gleoclas J. Ledgerwood Muſeum of Magicke that ye are a practicing vvitch reſiding in the hamlet of Greanmoore. We would like to congratulate ye on your appointmente and hope you find the positionne both fulfilling and rewarding. We had brief correspondence with your predeceſsor and were glad to learn of yovr presence.

The Gleoclas J. Ledgerwood Muſeum of Magicke is among the premiere magical muſeums in northweſternne High Rannoc. It has one of the moſte exhauſtive collections of magical materials, svbſtances, and hiſtories native to High Rannoc in the vvorld. Academicks, travelers, and school field trips regularly reference and reſearch the Muſeum’s collections in their purſuit of more compleat knowledge.

As The Muſeum of Magicke does not have a repreſentative in Greanmoore or the surrounding areas, we have a requeſte to make of ye if you are willing to fulfill it. We pride ourſelves on the compleatneſs of our Magickal Components collectionne, but we are miſsing many of the species native to Greanmoore and its svrrounding locations. We humbly ask that ye help vs remedy this deficiency. If you are willing to do so, we woulde requeſt that ye send one of each magickal componente available in the area to the Muſeum, at the returnne addreſs listed above. Should you do so, ye will receive compenſationne.

We hope ye will partner with vs in this endeavor. Your contributionne to societal knowledge shall be greatly appreciated by generationnes of reſearchers, thinkers, and touriſts.

Eagerly avvaiting your reſponſe,

The Friends of The Gleoclas J. Ledgerwood Muſeum of Magicke

[A plain text accessible version of this letter is available here.]

Obviously, the spelling is horrendous. This might have been forgivable a few decades ago, but the shape of the ‘s’ (that is, it not being that odd ‘f’ looking thing sometimes) and the distinction between ‘u,’ ‘v,’ and ‘w’ have been standardized since before I was born. Not to mention, the Ledgerwood Museum is associated with the University of Arcbridge—so there must be someone there who knows better.

The thing is, for a long time the only people who could write were those who received higher education, so the vast majority of documents that exist throughout history have to do with academia. So, even as reading and writing became more accessible and spelling and grammar more standardized, that outdated irregular styling retroactively became associated with education, with decorum, with genius.

I’ve never really had much respect for that kind of posturing—I think that if you’re brilliant the content of your writing ought to speak for itself. You shouldn’t have to so explicitly climb on the shoulders of those who came before you, especially not by intentionally making the mistakes they made or using the outdated styles they used.

I sent back a letter inquiring about the specifics of compensation along with a sample of my foxsocks.

I’m going to the library.

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The Greenmoor Public Library is near the center of town, not quite in the square but on Market Street directly off of it. It has some interesting architecture: it looks as if it was originally three separate buildings the size of single-family houses, that were all connected up at a later date by a circular addition between them so that the final building looks like a cog with three spokes. Each section of it is made up of a different material—exposed stone, lime render, and brick for the original houses, and cement for the central cylinder—but it all works together in a quirky, oddball way.

There are no internal walls in the library—even where there must have been external walls in the original houses. They must have knocked them down (I don’t envy that job). Every wall is lined with bookshelves from floor to ceiling, and in each of the spokes there are many close-set freestanding shelves besides, with only narrow aisles left between. At the center of the center is a circular desk, and around this are scattered tables with benches and clusters of armchairs for convenience of reading and research.

The library is owned and run by Donella and Saundra Glasford, an older couple. Saundra is actually the schoolteacher, but she helps with reshelving and organization on weekends. I know this because Donella explained it to me in detail. As soon as I walked in the door she stood from behind (within?) the circular desk and approached me, insisting that she give me a tour of the library. In addition to a survey of the entire space and what kinds of books it contained, this ‘tour’ involved a hefty amount of insight into the daily lives and routines of the Glasford family.

They have a kid named Muiredach, who’s very interested in ancient things at the moment—giant skeletons and the like. Donella has lived here her entire life but Saundra moved here forty years ago. Saundra’s expertise is in thaumatology (specifically thaumatozoology, the study of magical animals), in which she has a degree. Meanwhile, Donella has extensive knowledge of literary and epistemological history, though she received no formal schooling past twelve.

After she finished showing me all the different sections and layouts of the library, Donella told me I should feel free to poke around as much as I wanted. She added that I wouldn’t find any secret passages or hidden rooms, and that they had nothing to hide.

I hadn’t realized before she said that what this was all about.

I told her that the rumors weren’t true, that I wasn’t some Government spy or anything like that (I heard Saundra mumble something like “well you’d also deny it if you were a clype, wouldn’t you?”). Donella quickly assured me that she believed me, but then said “better safe than sorry,” so I’m not quite sure she actually did. I told her I didn’t understand where all the suspicion was coming from. Saundra piped up, saying that I was a stranger who came to a small, isolated town I had no prior relation with to fill a position whose previous occupant had mysteriously disappeared, and asked if I understood how that looked (not in quite those words—her accent and dialect was rather strong). I told her I’d been summoned directly by Mòrag McKinney, and had the paper trail to prove it. I asked if she thought Mòrag was involved in some conspiracy, too. She shrugged and said she was just saying how it looked.

Donella said regardless that I should feel free to use the library—it was for the public, after all—and pointed me in the direction of the section on rune magic. Thus, the conversation ended, but my uneasiness didn’t entirely abate. Still, I’d come to the library for a reason.

The rune section was limited, but I didn’t need to know any more than the basics. I’d only ever been taught one way to create runes, and it was clear my predecessor used a different one—all I needed to do was to figure out which and I could reverse engineer the runes’ meanings.

I found that she used a combination of the witches’ circle and magic square methods, which are both apparently very popular. I wonder why I was never taught them. Both systems derive the shape of the sigil directly from the letters of the intentions they’re meant to invoke. It’s traditional to remove the vowels before doing so, but luckily for me my predecessor chose not to do that.

So, with a bit of work I was able to determine that the sigils I copied down meant: life, autonomy, gentleness, congeniality, and empathy respectively. It was clearly built to be a very kind golem. Now that I know that, I’m going to try to create my own sigils and charge them, and see if that helps.

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While I was at the library, I also collected a few of the greatest works of modern literature—Lord of the Midges, Beathag’s Choice, To Kill a Gull-Drake, et cetera. The next morning I packed the books into the rucksack I’d used to travel to Greenmoor and set out to take them to Morna, heading to Hero’s Hollow by way of Moonbreaker Mountain.

As I skirted the base of the mountain, I heard a voice call out from above me, crying “hey, you! Groundling!” It was clearly far above me but somehow also quite loud. I looked up and saw, blotting out the sun, a great hot air balloon. I’d heard vague stories but had never seen one in person before. The most striking part of it was the balloon itself, made of canvas patterned beige and blue and larger than a house. The top half of it (as I was informed later) was enclosed by a net, which had metal rings on its edges attaching it to a tangle of myriad ropes and cords. These in turn held aloft the basket, which was not the simple platform I’d seen described in books but rather looked like a small sailing boat, complete with railings, rotors, and a steering wheel.

The voice announced that it hadn’t seen me around before and that I ought to climb aboard. A ladder with metal rungs unfurled over the side of the boat, just low enough that I could reach it if I jumped. I did so after making sure my rucksack was firmly on my back and shut, and climbed up to reach the aircraft.

The man onboard was only slightly taller than me. His white shirt was rumpled and stained with oil, and his left suspender was fraying. The thick goggles on his forehead, held together with large bolts and screws, were the only thing keeping his thick black hair from whipping in all directions with the wind (mine, in contrast, had already become hopelessly tangled). His sleeves were rolled up, but his forearms were covered by brown leather fingerless gloves, with metal studs that flashed in the sunlight as he hauled the ladder back onto the balloon. He wore a mask over the lower half of his face, with a cylindrical chamber marked “O2” sticking out from each cheek. Directly in front of the mouth was a clear window, so that I could see his lips moving when he spoke. He offered me a similar one and I accepted—the air was rather thin so high up. I could see him say something that was drowned out by the wind, and then he beckoned me towards a door. Given the shape of the craft, I wasn’t surprised to discover that it led to a kind of captains’ quarters.

Inside, the wind wasn’t quite so brutally loud and I could actually make out what my host was saying. He introduced himself as Captain Akash Majhi, aviator extraordinaire, and asked if I needed a lift. I said it might have been a bit late to ask since I was already on the balloon, which made him chuckle. I said that since he’d offered, I was headed to Hero’s Hollow, and he replied that that would be no problem. I noticed as we conversed that he only made eye contact when he was speaking—when I spoke, he instead watched my lips.

As Akash turned to pull a lever on the wall, I asked where he was from. He didn’t respond. With the lever pulled, a large strip of the ceiling rotated so that a piece of what had been the floor above—the piece to which the steering wheel was attached—became the ceiling of this room. Akash then tapped what seemed to just be a wooden accent covering a swath of the metal wall above the desk and bed. The wood slid to the side, revealing a bay window through which he could see.

He took his place at the wheel, positioning me in his field of view, so I asked again where he was from. He told me he was a proud resident of the Cloud Isles. I told him I’d never heard of such a place, and he said I really must be new to the area. Belatedly, I told him my name and that I had in fact only moved here a few weeks ago. He told me that the Cloud Isles were just that: islands in the clouds, with wildlife, ecosystems, and culture. At the center was a great city that, yes, was attached to the clouds, but had mostly been built flying between and amongst them by generations of architects, donors, engineers, artists, and aviators like himself.

I asked him where the city was located and he vaguely waved his hands. “Here and there.” He said that as the clouds drifted so did the Isles, but that the city itself never strayed too far from Greenmoor—otherwise, mapping and resource-gathering from the ground below would be difficult or impossible.

I asked him how I might visit the Isles, and he told me I’d need to be able to fly. He said the general ethos of the residents leaned towards mechanical solutions, but he had heard that there were magical ways of flight as well. I said I would have to look into that. He handed me a business card with his name, “balloonist | engineer | aviator extraordinaire,” an address, and a smoke signal pattern to use to contact him. He said if I was ever in the city he’d be happy to show me around. Then, he announced that we’d arrived.

We went back onto the deck and he unfurled the ladder over the edge. I went to hand him the oxygen mask back but he told me to keep it—they were expensive, but he had plenty and I’d be needing it when (and he did say “when”) I visited the city. I thanked him, shook his hand, and started descending the ladder.

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I made it back to the ground (the hop down from the ladder was smaller than the hop up had been), and smoothed my hair down before setting off into the Hollow. I’d only barely made it into the skull when my plans for the afternoon abruptly shifted.

It was just around midday, so the guards must have been on break or between shifts. Hurrying out of the dungeon was a group I recognized—it was the Lows, the mining family. Angus was carrying the son in his arms. The boy was clutching his thigh, and even from a distance I could see blood seeping through his fingers.

Crystal spotted me and immediately called out to me, thanking the gods for my arrival. I hurried to them and guided them back to the cottage, where I knew I’d be able to better determine how to treat the issue. Morna would have to wait—I had a patient to tend to.

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ratingtheframe · 4 years ago

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Films you need to watch if you want to fit in at film school.

By now, you’re probably knee deep in your filmmaking course at film school or university and if you want to keep up with the film discussions in between classes, then here’s a list of exemplary films to watch (and flex on) whilst at school.

It’s never a fun moment when you’re sat in a group of other film buffs and everyone but you have seen one particular film. Not only that, but they continue to bang on about it, and in those 12 minutes you’re left wishing gosh, I wish I had watched that now.

I know the feeling and to make sure you don’t get caught out again, this list of films not only covers your filmmaker wannabe basics, but also a few swarve anomalies that you can throw into the discussion like a true culture vulture.

Pulp Fiction (1994)

I shouldn’t be saying this but if you haven’t seen Pulp Fiction and you made it to film school, just leave. Hand in your student ID at reception and walk out the door, watch Pulp Fiction and come back to the next day. If you haven’t seen the 90s cult classic directed by Quentin Tarantino, it’s likely you’ve had at least one person disgusted by your lack of engagement for the film. But why is it such a necessity amongst the filmmakers of today? Well after a highly successful debut of Reservoir Dogs at Cannes Films Festival in 1992, Tarantino created another world of filmmaking. What he brought to the industry was a perspective and whole landscape that had never been seen before and the release of Pulp Fiction in 1994, certainly proved that Tarantino wasn’t a one trick pony. With a stellar cast, most of which were in their early days, and an outstanding storyline, Pulp Fiction is any filmmaker's paradise. And seriously, you can’t keep avoiding it.

Fight Club (1999)

Keeping it in the 90s, is David Fincher’s Fight Club, another revolutionary film from the king of psychological thrillers. If the name David Fincher doesn’t mean anything to you, it probably should, seeing as his films have grossed over $2.1 billion at the box office globally and earnt him 30 Academy Award nominations. Story, script and cast align perfectly in all of Fincher’s films, with Fight Club being no exception. Based on the 1996 novel by Chuck Palahnuik, Fight Club follows two men (Brad Pitt and Edward Norton, enough said) who initiate in an organised fight club. Sounds pretty straight forward until you get to the end and realise Fincher has been messing with all of us the entire time. In terms of early filmmaking and story structure, Fight Club is an excellent cult classic to sink your teeth into.

Psycho (1960)

Another name to be aware of, Alfred Hitchcock laid down the foundation for thrillers for generations to come. For it’s time, Psycho was revolutionary as it broke the strict censorship and threat barriers created in the world of filmmaking in the 60s. There are some iconic scenes in Psycho, along with an unnerving score and a whopping $39.2 million profit in the box office. Hitchcock also took a gamble killing off the star of the film, Janet Leigh, 45 minutes into the film. However, Psycho just goes to show that risks can also pay off.

La Haine (1995) “The Hate”

There’s a reason why some of the most revolutionary films can be found in the 90s. The 90s was the year of filmmaking that gave two fingers to the world and most of its stories belonged to the misfits and outcasts of society. Films were violent, punchy and led by young protagonists, raking in teenage audiences and voices. La Haine is a prime and clear cut example of the injustice between races and class in Paris, winning a Best Director award at Cannes in 1995. The film was so thought provoking and hard hitting, that the Prime Minister of France at the time forced his cabinet ministers to watch it. I’m sorry, if La Haine is good enough for the Prime Minister of France, it’s good enough for anyone.

Any Bong Joon Ho Film

With the success of Parasite still looming over Hollywood, Bong Joon Ho has to be the industry’s biggest underdog. Before the 2020 Oscars, most weren’t even aware of the director’s work or how gratifying he is as a storyteller. Each film is meticulously executed, with a hard hitting political message sewn beneath the surface of the overall film. Bong Joon Ho was quoted saying that this technique isn’t intentional and the breadth of the films he makes is found once they’re completed. From Okja that explores animal cruelty to Snowpiercer which explores class division, Bong Joon Ho has a way with imbedding societal issues into his films in a stylstic and structured way that should have any filmmaker filled with envy. He’s a strong voice for Asian cinema who’s had a sharp impact on western cinema without feeling the need to have all his films in the english language.

The 400 Blows (1960) “Les Quatre Cents Coups”

Whether you’re at school, in a lecture or amongst friends GUARANTEED the 400 Blows is going to worm its way into conversation at some point. The film was part of The French New Wave movement of the last 50s that created the foundation for French Cinema for films to come. The French New Wave was a significant movement that sought out to reject traditional ways of filmmaking and introduced new, more experimental ways of telling stories on screen. Francois Truffat won Best Director at the 1959 Cannes Film Festival for his directorial debut about a young boy struggling through Paris between his teachers at school and parents at home. The film shone a light on the misunderstood youth of the late 50s and early 60s, setting off a whole co-ord of films within the same genre later on.

Moonlight (2016)

Barry Jenkins became the underdog of 2017, with his beautiful and captivating story Moonlight, following a young boy through early adolescence and adulthood. The film is impeccably shot with rich colours and seamless shots. Moonlight won big time at the 2017 Academy Awards, winning Best Picture, Best Supporting Actor and Best Original Screenplay. The film certainly set the world of filmmaking on fire and carved out space for more black filmmakers to enter into the industry.

Hereditary (2018)

It’s easy to forget that this film was released 2 years ago as it has had some groundbreaking reception since then. Hereditary, directed by Ari Aster, sets a bar and tone within horror films that has never been touched on before. Before him, your average horrors came from low budget gimmicky films where the lead actress would be running around in her underwear by the end of the film. Hereditary keeps everyone in their clothes (for the most part) and viewers on the edge of their seats for the entirety of the film. What stands at the forefront of this film is the slow pace and artistically beautiful frames that Ari Aster has meticulously curated to create a work of art. It’s everything you wanted in a horror film but could never really ask for, due to the over saturation of the horror films on the market and predictable jump scares that come with them. I found that the jump scares in Hereditary were put in the most unpredictable places, leaving me and most people visibly shaken and disturbed.

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014)

Probably the first PG film on this list, Wes Anderson’s most iconic film The Grand Budapest Hotel, is a production designer’s paradise. Not only that, it features an insanely good cast with the likes of Jeff Goldblum, Ralph Fiennes, Bill Murray, Saoirse Ronan, Adrien Brody, Tilda Swinton, Willem Dafoe, Harvey Keitel, Jude Law and Edward Norton starring in the film. Wes Anderson’s mind is like a fairy tale book; he has the ability to create other worlds filled with bright colours and characters that EVERY ACTOR are dying to be. The Grand Budapest is probably Anderson’s most ambitious film to date and features some production design techniques that are beyond real.

Amélie (2001)

Amélie is your basic starter pack in French Cinema. Seeing as every charity shop has at least one copy of Amélie for sale, you have zero excuse for not having seen it yet. Even if French Cinema isn’t your thing, it’s very likely the entirety of French Cinema will be a topic of interest within your filmmaking course and Amélie is a fine place to start. The film ties the story, soundtrack and visuals perfectly and for any indie filmmaker, it’s a good example of taking a simple story but executing it in a complex way. In terms of box office, Amélie scored pretty well, with a humble budget of $10 million and making over $173 million globally. It was also nominated for five Academy Awards in 2002 and remains as one of the best and most iconic films to come out of France.

Good Time (2017)

With a humble budget of $2 million, Good Time made double in the box office and had a Hollywood star at its forefront. In fact Good Time skyrocketed Robert Pattinson’s career and since it’s release, Pattinson has gone on to be part of some amazing projects. Seeing Pattinson in such a gritty role in Good Time, was highly refreshing and totally suited him in every way. New York based filmmakers, Josh and Benny Safdie co directed and wrote the crime thriller after having an impressive response from their previous film, Heaven Knows What. They recently completed Uncut Gems for Netflix starring Adam Sandler, which continued the crime thriller neon lights aesthetic that's come with their two previous films. Good Time is jaw droppingly good, and for those wanting to go into lighting, it is a must watch. The deeper the story goes, the more you feel the urge to gasp as Robert Pattinson feeds us with an unrecognisable performance.

8 ½ (1963)

We are getting into sophisticated territory here with Fredrico Fellini’s 8 ½ . For those Scorsese and Tarantino fans out there, Fellini is your filmmaking bread and butter as both filmmakers have admitted to being heavily inspired by the Italian’s cinematic masterpieces. Fellini had the ability to tie reality with fantasy in a personal way, depicting a lot of his own life within his films. 8 ½ is no expectation, as it details the making of the actual film in the film and the rocky relationship he had with his wife, who starred in a few of his films. Fellini is named as one of the best filmmakers of all time, for his experimental style and off the wall filmmaking techniques. No one can or could do what Fellini did and there’s yet to be anyone who measures up to him.

Get Out (2017)

You like Get Out, I like Get Out, we ALL like Get Out. The film was the first of its kind in many ways and resonated with an audience that hadn’t yet been found. Jordan Peele wrote and directed the film, which grossed 100 times more than the film’s budget at the box office. This film is the epitome of less is more, taking a somewhat simple idea and heightening the possibilities of it. Jordan Peele became world renowned for it, along with British actor Daniel Kaluuya for his performance that earned him a Best Actor nomination at the 2018 Academy Awards. Get Out stands as a film that did what no one else has done before and for that, it deserves all the praise it gets.

All Celine Sciamma films

It’s likely the first time you heard of French filmmaker Celine Sciamma was from her groundbreaking, break through film Portrait of a Lady on Fire. Premiering at Cannes 2019, the film earned the Queer Palm d’Or and Best Screenplay Award. The film is simple, gorgeously shot and significantly deep in its telling. Not only will Portrait of a Lady on fire set you on fire, but all of Sciamma’s films sit on a level of filmmaking that is praise worthy. Her past films, Waterlilies and Girlhood explore coming of age stories amongst women and are executed in a highly personal and understanding way. She is the queen of female indie filmmakers and certainly one of the best french filmmakers in the industry to date.

I, Daniel Blake (2016)

It can be hard to remove the gimmicks and big names from the stories being sold on screen and get straight to the heart of a film. Ken Loach has brought an incomparable style of filmmaking to the table that sets him apart from almost every filmmaker out there. It's easy to compare a Tarantino film to a David Fincher one, however, throw Ken Loach into the mix there's just about zero relation to either filmmaker or their styles. I, Daniel Blake won Outstanding British Film of the Year in 2017 BAFTAs and the Palm d’Or at the 2016 Cannes Film Festival. It’s no wonder why the Cannes Film Festival ate this film up seeing as the realism and grittiness of I, Daniel Blake gave a voice to a large part of society that is heavily ignored. This film leaves you nodding in agreement at the reality of the way things are even if that reality is incredibly hard to bear.

The Meyerowitz Stories (2017)

For those budding screenwriters out there, the work of Noah Baumbach is necessary in understanding three dimensional characters and the dialogue that comes with them. The Meyerowitz Stories stands from Baumbach’s other films, seeing as the screenplay and actual film are completely the same. On reading the screenplay of this film, I found not one single word of dialogue was forgotten about or changed, which is a pretty incredible achievement for any filmmaker. It certainly showed the actors (Dustin Hoffman, Ben Stiller, Adam Sandler, Emma Thompson, Adam Driver) had a lot of respect for the words on the page and each one of their performances sought to lift them off it. Baumbach’s writing style is beautifully accurate to real speech; there’s interruptions, over layered conversations and a great deal of tangents. The dialogue is like music and is only elevated by the well rounded cast.

The Master (2012)

Filmmaker Paul Thomas Anderson has this hypnotic way of arresting his audiences to invest in his films for two and a half hours, then drop them at the last second. You don’t know why you’re watching or feel so absorbed in the worlds he creates, however it’s as if something over takes your attention, forcing you to carry on watching till the end. The Master is no different with a prolific cast and slow burnt pace to it. It's hard to explain what it is about this film that makes it so great. The cast made up of Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Joaquin Phoenix, Amy Adams and Jesse Plemons bring a top level performance and it feels like they’re always sitting on a secret. Every moment, every word, every shot is unmissable and the entirety of the film sets a bar of filmmaking that is flawless. Paul Thomas Anderson is a master (pardon the pun) of arresting his audiences and is someone to follow if you wish to do the same with your own films. For budding cinematographers, all of PTA’s films are worth a watch.

12 years a slave (2013)

Probably the best film out there that depicts slavery, 12 years a slave is a heart wrenching and moving film directed by Steve McQueen. The sensitivity and authenticity Steve McQueen brings to his films is A class, as he does an outstanding job of really transporting his audiences to a time before. There are many scenes in 12 years a slave that can be considered some of the best ever made. The cast is in-sane with the likes of Chiwetel Ejiofor, Lupita Nyong’o, Benedict Cumberbatch, Michael Fassbender, Paul Dano, Sarah Paulson, Brad Pitt and even a young Storm Reid and Kelvin Harrison Junior, all joined within this story. Films with such casts are rare and it’s unquestionable why the film was nominated for Nine Academy Awards, winning three back in 2014.

The Social Network (2010)

Even though I wasn’t a fan of The Social Network, I can still appreciate the musicality behind the work of Aaron Sorkin and the screenplay he wrote for this. The collaboration between David Fincher and Aaron Sorkin on this film is something the world certainly needed, as two highly skilled masters of film came together and served us a huge slice of their talent. The Social Network is 100% the screenwriter’s film, and one to watch when trying to analyse successful dialogue within films.

Babel (2006)

Those who are into the episodic film, you are advised to look into the work of Alejandro G. Iñárritu. A name you might not be too familiar with, but you only need to have seen Birdman or The Revenant to appreciate his talents as a director and unique voice. Babel struck me as a poignant and INCREDIBLY structured film, with a satisfying 360 to it, as all the stories connect to one another in a distinct way. It’s so clear that a lot of time was put into writing such a screenplay and the production itself is to be noted, for scenes are filmed in Morocco, Tokyo, California and Mexico. That takes a LOT of money, time, effort and people, however if was certainly worth it as Babel is hands down one of the best films you’ll ever see.

The films of Xavier Dolan.

Xavier Dolan is Cannes Film Festival’s godson. The man has attended every festival for the past 10 years and each time, when in competition, he brings a personal and hard hitting perspective within his films. I have seen all but one of these films, and I suggest you do too. Xavier Dolan’s directorial debut I Hate My Mother scooped him numerous awards at the Cannes Film Festival and was made when Dolan was only 20. From then, he went on to direct several french/canadian films that won him the Jury Prize, Un Certain Regard and Queer Palm at Cannes. He’s a filmmaker who puts so much passion and devotion into his work, which is seen through the incredible acting, story and dialogue shown within his films. Two must see films of his would be Mommy and Laurence Anyways, especially for the acting. Xavier Dolan also directed the music video for Adele’s Hello music video which is one of the most watched music videos of all time, with 2.7 Billion views on YouTube.

You Were Never Really Here (2017)

Lynne Ramsay’s 2017 film starring Joaquin Phoenix is everything and more that you want from a thriller. It’s probably one of the best thrillers out there on the market and is highly underrated. Lynne Ramsay’s previous spellbinding feature We Need To Talk About Kevin sent pulses racing through the industry, giving Ramsay the recognition she deserves and even earning her a Palm d’Or nomination at the 2011 Cannes Film Festival. As a female filmmaker, Lynne Ramsay is one to watch for she has a knack at creating her own original slow burning, deep stories and directing them in a seamless way.

The films of Christopher Nolan

Christopher Nolan’s 11th film recently hit cinemas and no one knows what the hell is going on in it. However, there are plenty of other Christopher Nolan films that don’t melt your brain or send the guy next to you at the cinema cursing throughout the film in frustration at not understanding the film. The Dark Knight is said to have one the best performances in cinema history, with the late Heath Ledger taking on the role of the Joker. Not only that, but the likes of Gary Oldman, Michael Caine, Anne Hathaway and Christian Bale are also featured alongside Ledger, creating an untouchable cast. Dunkirk also deserves an honourable mention as one of Nolan’s films, seeing as I couldn’t breathe throughout the entire film. The second Dunkirk begins, the tension builds and you’re kept in a constant state of panic for the characters on screen. As far as war films go, Dunkirk is up there and it’s cinematic qualities were recognised at the 2018 Academy Awards, picking up three awards. What we can take from Christopher Nolan and his ability to execute stories on screen is that he spends a great deal on his screenplays before production. Tenet took FIVE YEARS to write (and probably another five to understand) certainly showing his devotion and dedication to his ideas as a filmmaker.

Honorouble mentions (that u should definitely check out)

Taxi Driver (1976) A Clockwork Orange (1971) Call me by your name (2017) Her. (2017) Do the right thing (1989)

Obviously there are 100s of other films worth watching that aren’t on this list, however if you were to watch all films mentioned on this list, you’d certainly get a different perspective on the possibilities of filmmaking and the stories they tell.

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anxiousdepressedintrovert · 4 years ago

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Otome Thursday

IT’S BRAM!!!!

Y’all, you have no idea how excited I was for this route/series to start. I wasn’t a big fan of Ravi.

ANYWAY

Bram Route

Episode 1 (The free one 😉)

-I really dig the beginning of the route.

-Like a land hidden from even the Elves? Nice

-Also also, I like that this series, Love and Legends, AND Reigning Passions all take place in the same universe and it makes sense. Unlike the more modern series where the crew just sticks characters in the stories to say “Hey, look, notice these characters”

-Sorry. I’m ranting

-Focusing now

-I named my MC Mari Rya

-She’s beautiful

-She’s got a little, sprite/fairy/thing named Ness

-I love them

-I only know the name of the new land because I played the Ravi short but it’s called Tallav

-Mari’s got a reputation as a researcher.

-But this is also a lifelong dream of hers.

-Ness doesn’t speak (what I’m going to call) English, but Mari understands her anyway

-Ness uses They/Them pronouns. RESPECT IT

-Magic time!

-Ness magic time!

-Mari can feel all the living things. I feel like that’s not a human thing.

-But I will reserve judgement

-She’s had a rune stone since she was a baby. Yeah, she’s def not human.

-Holy shit a bear!

-…with a shield and a spear on it’s back.

-Subtle

-The way these sprites move are fucking hilarious

-Mari said “Nope not today”

-Can’t out run a bear. What does this bitch do?

-Drop down to play dead. Cause that’s totally gonna stop a bear from chewing on your spleen

-the “bear” is able to turn her over to her back (duh)

-it turns into a man and…oh what a man

-this CG is so fucking cute!

-he’s like “Is she alive?”

-She’s like “the fuck is he doing?”

-I’m like “Squeeeee they’re both so stupid rn”

-Oh those eyes…

-I haven’t been this in love since Razi. Or Renzei.

-Oh no! headbutt. Gives me a headache just reading it.

-Fuck look at those abs.

-LVS really knows what they’re doing with these character designs

-And Mari’s being thirsty too. It’s not just me

-Whew chile, the way she describes this man. Girl,

-Thank you, Ness, someone has their head on properly

-Never mind. They’re just as thirsty

-I still wanna know how Mari can talk to them

-He knows she’s a human cause she’s wearing clothes. Good lord this series is gonna be a riot in the first couple seasons

-Oh Mari…you’re sounding very Colonizerish

-I don’t like that

-Though it is kinda cute how she nerds out

-I can see her doing this with any thing she comes across.

-Thank you, Ness. Time and Place Mari!

-Invasive is one word for it

-Not much to write.

-She’s gushing. He’s listening. They’re both hot

-oh no, not an eyebrow lift!

-from both of them!

-I can’t do this.

-This bitch just walks away from a question ‘cause she got caught staring!

-I can’t! This is me. Running away from all my problems

-Bram follows cause, y’know, stranger in the woods

-Bram likes Ness. It’s adorable

-Anthropologist=Skald? Maybe.

-Apparently rune reading is impossible, so is befriending a Puck (Ness)

-Mari is def not a human. At least not fully

-See, I feel like if she showed Bram the rune stone she carried with her, that would help bridge this gap.

-But y’know. Whatever.

-Oh they are two bull-headed people

-He’s got (understandable) prejudices against humans/bipeds

-She’s like “MY RESEARCH”

-I’m like “Girl, they’re living people. Respect their boundaries. And Dude, Learn a little”

- She’s very forceful with the fact that she ‘needs to do her research’

-It’s very Colonizerish and I don’t approve.

-Mari, You can’t prove that the Duke who hired you only wanted you to do pure research.

-Ha, Bram called her pretty

-Ohhh Mahuwin Villiage

-Cue Victor from Underworld: “YOU MUST BE JUDGED!!”

-damn he called her insidious

-Mari…honey. Going to a village, you’ll get to see how they live and see how the justice system works. Calm down.

-Of course, no one’s ever been so unwelcoming. You’ve been dealing with other humans and elves.

-Girl!

-I’m judging you so hard rn

-Whew chile that took a lot outta me

Episode 2

-Awww I do feel bad for Ness tho

-They’re scared too

-Bruh, Bram JUST said he doesn’t know what an anthropologist is. You barely related it to a Skald. Showing him your notes means nothing.

-Bram, dude, I get you’re supposed to protect but you’re seeing enemies in the wrong people. Though I get why you’d suspect her.

-The Dinae have no secrets between their tribes (I’m assuming) so there’d be no need for an anthropologist to go looking for old history.

-Also he called her cute (again)

-Ohkay. I draw the line at you accusing Mari of torturing Ness.

-Only a heartless monster would lay hands on Ness.

-I need you to think baby: WHYY WOULD NESS STAY? If Pucks are magical creatures, surely you don’t think that Ness would be foolish enough to stay with a powerless human.

-Oh. Don’t make me insult your intelligence

-Oh don’t make me

-Mari. Don’t do anything stupid. Please. He’s actually being nice. In a weird way. Taking you to be judged. Someone else would’ve just killed you

-Mari…you can’t do your job in someone else’s country without permission. To get permission, you need to go to a village.

-I’m starting to question your intelligence

-Oh good. The bull-headedness is back

-No shit it’s more than just a job! I think you would have gathered that from the fact that to enter Tallav you had to pass a BEAR statue

-Oh no not the sad face

-I know LVS is gonna use that face to get money out of me in future scenes

-Mari, you’re both stubborn. And if I had it my way, you’d’ve gone with him already

-MARI! HE’S NOT A SOLDIER!

-ARUGH

- Not the type of roleplay I thought I’d be reading in this story but sure. Have some hearts

-I wanna smack her so bad and the first season’s not over yet.

-Usually the urge to smack doesn’t kick in until at least season 2.

-She’s a record setter

-Uh oh Bram, you called her an interrogator.

-And he STILL doesn’t fix it!

-They’re both so rude

-Ok, so he gets the why.

-We’re making progress

-This woman can’t let her thirst rest for five minutes.

-I mean same but come on

-Ah! Progress on both sides!

-Still don’t like how forceful Mari is about her job. How would she feel if her job put people in danger?

-You kinda did Mari. You kinda did say “I’m going to do what I want anyway”

-Not in those exact words but enough

-My point!

Bram: You ever think that if we wanted to be bothered by any kingdoms, we would have officially contacted them

That’s my point

At the same time, Bram and his fellow Dinae have their fellow prejudice against bipeds. As I said, mostly justified but they act that they can’t adapt or change

-Mari, interest isn’t always flattering…we aren’t in high school

-Now she’s running away. From a guy that can turn into a bear

-I’m very much questioning her intelligence now.

-Cause she dumb dumb.

-And thus begins an infuriating game of human and bear

-Oh yeah Mari, cause you can totally break the hold of a guy WHO CAN TURN INTO A BEAR

-As Mari is kicking and screaming, Bram: Am I hurting you?

-LMFAOOOO

-Awww Ness trying to help.

-Bitch. He puts you down and you climb a tree. Like bears don’t climb trees?

-Thank you Ness for talking some sense into this stupid girl

-Why is she so defensive?!

-Why can’t they just give me the option of “Fine.” FOR ONCE

-Seriously Mari? If you had stumbled upon a village during your wandering that really HATED humans, the chances of them killing you are SUPER fucking high. Doing it this way is arguably a lot safer

-YO WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!!!

-That looked like a swamp deer monster from It Lives Beneath

-FUCK THAT

-RUN BITCH…FUCKING RUUUNNNN

-Why is run never an option when we are clearly outmatched?

-Oh god why does it have to look at the screen!!!

-I don’t like that

-and ewwwww they did detail on the muscles

-Yeah no shit it’s targeting Mari, Bram!

-I think that’s pretty obvious!

-Thank again Ness for saving One Stupid Bitch

-We…we get to RIDE Bram?

-I can (and will) make so many jokes about that

-I’ve already restrained myself from making Bear jokes. So, you’ll deal with that

Episode 3

-Hehehehehehehhehe

-We rode him

-Hopefully this won’t be last time

-and the next time won’t be in bear form

-Ohkay. I’m back. The chapter’s loaded

-Wait one more

-And we can use that rope for something else too

-Idk how to do the lenny face so……just imagine it

-Ok. NOW I’m done.

-Finally, a decent option. THANK YOU, BRAM

-Yeah Mari get that through your thick fucking skull. He’s a defender. He defends.

-Awwww Bram isn’t comfortable with praise. I’m gonna take every opportunity to do it now

-Mari, this is why we don’t talk shit up.

-Hehe still riding him

-Ewww that thing is back.

-Plus side?

-FIGHT SCENE

-Oh nooooo Bram’s hurt

-MARI CONTROL YOUR THIRST THE MAN IS INJURED

-Thank you, Ness! I swear they’re the only character I haven’t been pissed at

-Mari begins to nerd out over plants. Honestly same

-OMG HIS BLUSH

-GUYS. HIS BLUSH

-The stuff of nightmares was an Abberation. I like my name better so it and all its freaky brethren will be called The Stuff of Nightmares

-And Bram’s back to being suspicious. Sigh. And we were having such a nice time

-The Dinae don’t have pets and that’s the saddest thing I’ve read all day.

-Mari just realized that Bram’s been naked this entire time.

-Lol

-Oh so, if Bram trusted Mari, he’d happily tell her everything she wanted to know.

-Hmmmmmm

-I certainly can’t say no to that face. So neither can you Mari. Here. Have some hearts

-See, they say fur covered thigh, all I hear is, cuddling for the winter.

-OMG SHE COULD SQUISH HIS PAW BEANS

-IF SHE DOESN’T SQUISH HIS PAW BEANS WE’RE GONNA HAVE A PROBLEM

-Mari stahp being so thirsty. There’s a stream next to you. Go dunk your head.

-Ness is adorable and I want a plushie of them

-Oh NOQOOOWW she has a problem with riding him

-…Ok, I mean…her explanation makes sense.

-See, every Dinae does it!

-Bram is so tired of her. It’s so funny

-WAIT. THERE’S WOLVERINES

-….is one’s name Logan?

-I’ll leave now

-I’m so glad they’re starting to understand each other more. Cause I was ready to jump through my phone screen.

-Things are still tense, of course.

-Wait a fucking minute. Going through a patch of brambles saved you a fucking DAY of travel? WTF

-I’m very interested in seeing how this plays out as opposed to Ravi’s route.

-Let’s meet Chieftain Mael!!

#lovestruck #lovestruck voltage #tales of the wild #bram #adi blog #otome days

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saiilorstars · 4 years ago

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Falling in Temptation

Ch. 14: While I'm Gone

Previous chapters • Sequel to Stars Dance • Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor x Female OC

Chapter summary: The Doctor is slowly losing his mind searching for Avalon and Melody.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @maaaaarveeeeel

Lena held her sister's prized possession close to her chest. Ever since Avalon had been taken, Lena hadn't let that journal out of her sight. Avalon would want it first thing when she got back...because she would come back. It was just a matter of time.

That morning - or whatever time it was inside the TARDIS after waking up - Lena hurried towards the console room just like she had done from day 1 on their search for Avalon and Melody. And just like always, the Doctor was already in the room, working hard and fast to find a new lead on Avalon and Melody.

"Big brother, did you sleep?" Lena found herself wondering when she realized how untidy he looked. She understood that he needed way less sleep than she and the Sapling did, but he still needed some sleep.

"Yes, um, at some point...one night, can't remember! Busy!" the man was making rounds at the console, not particularly interested in conversations. These days he did a lot more talking to himself about possible clues than anything else.

Lena spotted his tweed jacket on the floor, the same spot he'd thrown it last night after getting a new lead. She and the Sapling had to get some sleep and the Doctor promised them that he would follow in a few minutes. He did not. "Big brother, nobody wants to find my sister and Melody as much as I do but you really need to get some sleep if this is going to work."

"I can sleep when I have Ava here and Melody with Amy and Rory," he said, his voice a bit snappish due to his lack of rest. He never snapped at her.

"But you can't find them if you can't think," Lena sighed. "That's why you sent me to sleep. Why don't you follow your own advice and take a few hours? I can keep looking. The Sapling should be up in a few hours too."

"I can't," the Doctor shook his head. "I followed the lead last night - it took me to the Messier 82 galaxy - and it turns out that there was a spotting of a woman with an eyepatch in one of the black markets. I went, but guess what!? It was a fake! It was a costume! What a waste of time! So now I'm back to zero! I cannot sleep!"

Lena looked at the journal in her arms. If Avalon could see him now, she would definitely slap him. She valued health over everything, even when she was the one who needed the help. "Avalon wouldn't want you to be like this. She wants you to rest."

"Lena! Are you going to help or not?" he snapped again.

"Yeah, I guess so," Lena came up to the console with a sigh. "So, where exactly are we?"

"Like I said: back to zero!"

"Okay," Lena nodded, trying to be the one to think rationally since she had all her hours of sleep. "Well, you said that Kovarian probably took Melody back to Earth in the past. But to find her would be dangerous because of Avalon's existence so we need to focus on Avalon first. We find her, she can tell us where Melody is and we can pick the right moment to take her without endangering Avalon's life." That was far easier said than done.

They'd spent weeks searching for Melody on Earth, but the Doctor ultimately called it off because of the danger they were putting on Avalon's life. The fact that she was Melody's daughter meant that they had be very careful choosing at what point to bring Melody back to her parents. Instead, they switched gears and focused on Avalon. The idea was that Avalon would know precisely where Melody was and they could extract the baby before she was raised on Earth. River had told him that in order for Avalon to continue existing, she needed to attend some university in the 51st century. The Doctor could arrange for young Melody to do that, no problem, but then he also started wondering if that was all that Melody needed to keep the timelines going? As he stated a while back, maybe the reason Melody did what she did at college, made the choices that she made, was because of her life on Earth. It was all a huge headache.

But one thing for sure, the one thing that River Song herself agreed upon, was that the Doctor needed to find Avalon first. She would never forgive him if he chose to search for Melody over Avalon. That made the Doctor feel a little less guilty about his decision when talking it out with Amy and Rory. He wasn't abandoning the search for Melody just because.

But finding Avalon was no more easy than finding Melody. It was like she had vanished into thin air. It terrified the Doctor wondering what they were doing to Avalon if she wasn't outside somewhere. If she was being kept inside, was she tied up? Was she being tortured? There was another part telling him that perhaps she'd been absorbed into their plans and was being trained like Melody, brainwashed no doubt. Repeated brainwashing could permanently damage the mind. If she was being trained to kill him - him - then she would be getting an extensive course. Everything Melody was meant to learn over the course of her life was being crammed into Avalon for the right day and time.

When his thoughts got too dark, even for him, the Doctor did everything he could to shake them off and focus on just finding her. If he found her, then all that could be avoided. "I don't know, I don't know..." he rubbed his eyes tiredly. He had thought of all the possible places that he knew of but Avalon wasn't there. She was never seen.

"Big brother," Lena gently placed a hand on his arm. The Doctor dropped his hands from his face and glanced at Lena, showcasing the heavy guilt that'd permanently become part of his features. Lena rubbed his arm comfortingly. "Take a moment to breathe. Let's think about this, right? If they separated Avalon and Melody, and Melody's on Earth, then wouldn't that mean Avalon is basically on standby? Where could she stay if she was on standby?"

"Well," the Doctor took in a deep breath and focused on the facts they had about Kovarian's style. "They gave Melody absolute independence on Earth, but they were always watching her. If Avalon is following the same plan, then she has to be living the same thing."

"Right, except they wouldn't give her complete independence because she could run away."

"No, they would have to alter her..." the Doctor was very careful with what he said about what Kovarian might be doing to Avalon. Lena didn't need the images he had in his head. "They would have to change something," he settled for the neutral words instead. Her brain. They would have to change something in there to keep Avalon at bay, because Avalon Reynolds was not a woman you could keep at bay so easily. Her terrible temper made her a force to be reckoned with. That's where the brainwashing came in, he imagined. If they changed Avalon's thoughts, she would function just like they wanted her to.

"So then where they would keep her after that?" asked Lena.

"Don't know," the Doctor's eyes found the controls as a new thought popped into his head. "But I bet that whatever they're using they had to have bought it somewhere."

"We're going to the Black Markets, aren't we?" Lena guessed considering the dark nature of Kovarian.

The Doctor nodded. "To as many as we can."

~ 0 ~

3 Weeks after Demons Run.

The tears wouldn't stop falling from Avalon's eyes. She felt like a child constantly having to rub the tears off her face only for new ones to take their place seconds later.

River Song was her mother, River Song.

It didn't make sense. Yes, she knew she was adopted but never in her life did she consider that River might be the woman who gave her up? All those times that she'd bumped into River and the woman never said anything. She acted as if there was nothing bonding them together, blood. It infuriated Avalon all over again. River just paraded through social events, making sure everybody knew who she was and yet the one person that should've been the first to learn her name was the person River chose to abandon and then ignore.

Avalon's eyes fell to the pictures Kovarian had left her with.

"A gift," the woman had smugly said after returning Avalon to her room. She'd let the pile fall to the floor, sprawling around Avalon.

She had been very thorough proving to Avalon that River was Melody and her mother. She had brought Avalon to a room where they played several videos of River confirming that she was her mother. The best one, according to Kovarian, was the video they'd retrieved from Demons Run. River had explained who she was to everyone after the Silence took Avalon. There was no room for doubt.

Now Avalon was left with a series of pictures of River at her finest moments, all of which were her in a compromising illegal act. It was Kovarian's way of showing Avalon that her mother wasn't someone she should try to protect so much. It was a way for Avalon to hate her and willingly work for the Silence. After all, why would she want to protect her mother when she abandoned her?

Even if Avalon didn't want to give Kovarian the satisfaction of being right, Avalon couldn't help the anger that flourished each time she thought about River.

She abandoned me. She didn't want me..

The woman galavanted throughout the galaxies, doing whatever the hell she wanted, and she never once came to see her. River knew where she lived, where she was, and she never did anything. Avalon could understand that being in prison complicated things but River never seemed to mind the fact she was incarcerated. She was always up and ready for an adventure. So why would River leave her with someone else to raise?

Because she probably cramped River's style.

Avalon knew that she was a nobody. She had lived in boring old Leadworth and the only exciting thing about her was meeting the Doctor. She didn't have a penny to her name and she certainly didn't astounding qualities. River probably thought she was boring. How could she tell the world that she had given birth to a boring daughter?

Fresh tears stung her eyes. Avalon let out a fierce growl. Her hands found the closest picture and tore it into pieces. "How could you!?" her hand then swiped away any picture nearby, wanting nothing to do with them. "I hate you!"

Let River keep doing her own thing! She didn't need her. She'd done just fine without her for 22 years after all. If River didn't want her then Avalon wouldn't want her either.

The only mother she recognized was Emmalina Reynolds. Enmalina had protected her and loved her. She had been there to hug her when she was scared, to kiss her 'owies' when she'd fallen, to read bedtime stories to her each night. Emmalina had given Avalon her first journal to write in because she knew from the start what Avalon wanted to be when she grew up. Emmalina knew that before Avalon knew it. That's what a mother was like. She knew things that her child wouldn't know until much later. Emmalina had been there when River had been god knew where.

Avalon picked up another picture and studied it until she saw the last detail. River was dressed fashionably, almost like the first time Avalon met her back at the Byzantium, and was conversing with some woman. River held a beautiful sapphire blue jewel that no doubt had been priceless. The setting was an elegant party, judging by the decorations. Even the chandelier was big enough to be caught on the picture and it was made of diamonds. It seemed like a party Avalon would've loved to have gone to.

But where was she? At home, in Leadworth, on Earth. She'd been light years away from her mother and River didn't look the least bit upset by the matter.

Avalon's face scrunched as her hands gripped the corners of the picture. She yanked the two sides in the opposite direction and felt a dark satisfaction when she heard the picture tearing. Her gaze fell to the remaining pictures and before she knew it, she'd began to grab each of them and tore them until they were nothing but confetti on the ground.

But once there was nothing left, Avalon still couldn't get rid of the heavy pain in her chest. She wanted to scream and cry. Cry for everything that had gone wrong in her life, from the very moment she was born. Her shoulders slumped. The dark anger subsided for a moment to give way for her hear to break all over again.

Her vision blurred with all the tears in her eyes. My own mother didn't want me, what hope do I have? If her own mother didn't want her, how could she expect for anyone else to want her?

Would the Doctor even come for her? He never liked River to begin with and if he knew that she was River's daughter...would he hate her too? The mere thought terrified Avalon.

~0~

The Sapling was was quietly going through an album in the TARDIS library. Despite his insistence to help find his mother, his father and aunt Lena told him there was nothing for him to do right now. They had to start out by mapping the possible locations Avalon could be. But even when they visited most of those locations, there wasn't a job for him to actually help. Why? Because they hadn't actually found Avalon, nor Melody. They weren't in any of the locations.

It infuriated all three that they were no closer to finding either girl. The Sapling felt a tingling sensation each time he underwent a new episode of fury. He suspected it was his powers trying to manifest again and the only reason he worked hard to keep them within was because he wanted to use them on the woman who took Avalon and Melody.

But for now, the Sapling was resigned to wait. They needed to wait for anything significant to pop up so they could start the search again. It was why he was in the library, passing the time with the only thing he could: by going through his mother's photo albums. She had gone over them extensively because he had asked her to. Now he was going through them again, alone, and really missing his mother.

Lena had appeared at the doorway and yanked the Doctor to her side. "See!?" she was very careful to whisper so that the Sapling wouldn't hear them. "Poor thing's been locked in here for days. I try to get him to come out to eat something but he refuses."

"I don't blame him," the Doctor whispered as he took a peek inside the library. The Sapling was on the couch with the photo album on his lap. He spotted Avalon's journal sitting on the coffee table in front of the Sapling. "You let him have the journal?" he gave a questionable glance at Lena. She hadn't let go of that journal since she stepped into the TARDIS.

Lena's expression was sympathetic. "He misses his Mum." She motioned him to go to the Sapling. "I think you should spend some time with him."

The Doctor would want nothing more than that - well, perhaps spend time with him and Avalon would be better - but his attention had to be on the search. "I left the console to track the black markets selling the specific software Kovarian would need to use on Avalon. I have to be there if anything comes up."

"I can be there," Lena assured him. "If anything does come up, I'll give you a call."

"Lena," the Doctor sighed and shook his head. "I don't...I don't even know what to tell the Sapling. I mean, I told him that I would find his mother and I have yet to follow through. It's been almost a month and I've got nothing."

"He knows that you're searching hard. Right now, I think you just need to be there with him, like a Dad." Lena bumped his side encouragingly. "Just talk."

The Doctor seemed lost for another option. "But you'll be at the console, right?" Lena nodded. "And you'll call if anything comes up?"

"Of course I will," Lena reassured him that she wouldn't leave the console until he got back. With that, the Doctor truly had no choice but go on inside the library.

The Sapling hadn't noticed him initially. He was focused on a picture of Avalon with her brother, Gavin, in a park. They were both attempting to climb a tree but had stopped to pose for the picture.

"Even as a child your mother looks like a troublemaker," the Doctor came around and took a seat next to the Sapling. The Sapling cracked a smile as they both studied the photograph.

A fifteen year old Avalon was smirking at the camera. She might have done something previous to the picture and no one but her would know about it.

The Sapling agreed. "Yeah. Have you found her yet?"

The smile on the Doctor's face was quick to fall. He shook his head in shame. "I haven't yet. But I will."

"I'm scared, Father," the Sapling admitted, not that it was a news for the Doctor. "That woman was a very mean woman who hurt aunt Amy and her baby. What if she's hurting Mother right now?"

The Doctor closed his eyes for a second. He had thought about that so many times, with thorough images, that it left his body shaking each time. Kovarian was not merciful and because she wanted him dead, she would stop at nothing to make sure both Melody and Avalon were thoroughly skilled.

He wondered how many times Avalon had screamed in terror and pain since she'd been taken. How many times had she cried? How much time had it been for her? A week? A month? Years? His hearts ached thinking Avalon had spent years with Kovarian, just like Melody. She was waiting for him to find her and he hadn't been able to track a single clue of where she could be.

"I don't know what they're doing to her right now, but I promise you that we will get her back," the Doctor promised on his lives. The Sapling believed him. He always did.

"Why did they take Mother away, anyways? And baby Melody? They didn't do anything wrong."

Another hard question the Doctor wanted to avoid. "They didn't, of course they didn't," he first agreed. "They...these people that took them, they don't like me very much. They want to hurt me..."

"And they took Mother and Melody because of that?"

The Doctor nodded silently. Even though the Sapling was a child, he could easily read the guilt on the Doctor's face.

"It's not your fault," he said. "Mother would tell you that too."

"Yeah, she would." A brief smile appeared on the Doctor's face as he thought about Avalon's reaction. She would no doubt call him an idiot for believing that but then she would give him one of her warm hugs. He would then indulge himself by believing her for a moment.

"Do you love, Mother?" the Sapling suddenly questioned. Even though it was done in a gentle child's voice, it snapped the Doctor out of his thoughts in a second.

"Wh-what? I don't...what?" the stammering was a natural response given the heavy weight of the question. The Doctor's face went a deep red in the seconds that followed.

The Sapling just smiled. "I just wonder if my parents love each other. Melody's parents love each other."

"Sapling, uh, Amy and Rory have been married a good while now. Your mother and I...it's, uh, very complicated." And that was still an understatement. At times, he wanted Avalon right next to him so he could dote on her and show her anything she wanted; he was at her beck and call. But other times...he wanted to lock her in a room so he would leave her alone at least for five minutes. She would frustrate him to no end and having an argument with her was sure to end with both of them screaming at the top of their lungs. It was a strange feeling - as he hadn't had that type of relationship with anyone else - but he knew that even during those moments he still wanted her. He would still want to kiss her and hold her. He liked her, a lot, that was past news but to say 'love'...maybe not right now. But you are getting there, he made the startling conclusion. He visibly gulped. That was certainly new.

"Maybe...maybe not right now..." he whispered and swallowed down the lump in his throat. He would have to think back on those thoughts another time, preferably when Avalon wasn't in danger.

"For now," the Sapling said matter of factly as he flipped to the next page of the album. "You gave Mother that journal," he nodded to Avalon's journal on the table. "Uncle Rory gave aunt Amy a ring because he loved her. That's what humans do, but you're not very normal."

"Oh, thanks," the Doctor rolled his eyes. That sounded completely like Avalon.

The Sapling smiled widely. "You gave Mother a journal that never runs out of pages. She wants to write - you gave her the ultimate present. If you don't love her yet, you will soon. And I know that Mother will too."

The Doctor inwardly sighed. The last thing he needed was for that to get around. No doubt Kovarian already had an insight to his feelings towards Avalon. It fueled the game even more, putting Avalon right in the middle of it.

~0~

1 Month after Demons Run.

"Why am I here again?" Avalon asked as a female doctor bound her wrists to the metal chair she was forced to sit on. She was back in the room with the screen that originally showed Avalon who her mother was. She didn't want to be there again - actually, she didn't want to be anywhere near Kovarian.

"Because we need to start your conditioning," Kovarian gave the female doctor a nod when Avalon was secured to the chair.

"My what?" Avalon blinked when she saw the female doctor coming back with electric pads in hand. "Why-why are you carrying those? What are you doing?" she frantically asked but the woman started attaching them to her skin without saying a word. Avalon's head craned to see Kovarian watching with satisfaction. "What are you going to do with me!?"

"Same thing we did to Melody. Of course with her, we didn't really use ECT. We just embedded the ideas from the start. I'm making the right adjustments to your conditioning."

"N-n-n-n-no! Get these off me right now!" Avalon resorted to pushing her wrists against the metal cuffs keeping her strapped in.

"Oh don't bother," Kovarian laughed and came up to Avalon. "We know very well about your strength - you get that from your mother - and we have accounted for everything. There is no getting out of this."

Avalon glared, her face scrunching slightly as her anger rose. "What are you going to do?" she flinched when the female doctor attached the last two pads to her temples.

"You seem to cling onto the Doctor more than anyone else, even your grandmother, so we need to change that. Dr. Lefevre here, will conduct the electric shocks at my order and by the time we're done here..." Kovarian came to lean very close to Avalon, allowing her to notice the light freckles on Kovarian's face, "After we're done here, you're going to associate the Doctor with pain."

Gulping came on instinct, but Avalon still endeavored to prove that she wouldn't be an easy victim. "I won't fall for it. I got news for you, lady, my brain's all messed up anyways. And you know what? The Doctor might hate me because of who I am but I won't ever hurt him. I'd rather die first."

Kovarian dramatically groaned as she straightened up and turned away from Avalon. "This idolizing him has got to stop! You don't understand the danger he's putting us in with his existence! But don't worry," she spun around back to Avalon, expressing as if Avalon had done something wrong that she could fix for her. "I see the truth and I'm going to help you see it too. Dr. Lefevre?"

Lefevre nodded again and walked out of the room. Avalon shut her eyes thinking the first wave of electric shocks was about to hit her but instead the screen projector came to life and the room's lights went off.

"Let's start," Kovarian smiled maniacally as she came to stand beside Avalon's chair.

~ 0 ~

1 Month and a week after Demons Run.

"No, more, no more, please," Avalon's voice was too strained to make a proper plead. Her body felt like soup. Yes, that was a feeling she thought wasn't possible until now. She felt like she was floating but couldn't really move her arms nor legs. They were the noodles.

"But this is only 2005 now," Kovarian promised but she had promised that last week when this first started.

"Don't you...get it?" Avalon struggled to breath normally. "If you keep...doing this...I won't m...make it."

"Oh don't worry, that's where your regenerative cycle comes in. If your body truly does expire then you'll just regenerate and we can continue where we left off!"

Avalon felt like she could cry there and then. Regeneration? She didn't even want to think about such a thing. Her body dying? Now that she knew she could, she wondered how the hell the Doctor could do that so easily and not get stuck on the fact he had to die to get a new body.

"I'm going to...die...and...I don't even know how...to survive," Avalon coughed aggressively but Kovarian didn't seem perturbed.

"Lefevre, next!" she gave the order for the screen to switch again.

The next series of pictures shown were the aftermath of a famous battle Avalon once heard of but never had the full details. Along with pictures, Kovarian had also included videos for better representation.

"Cybermen..." Avalon recognized the terrible metal robots marching down a street. "What...what is this?" her eyes widened when the screen switched to show her Daleks flying in the air.

"This is the Battle of Canary Wharf, one of the biggest slaughters of the human race," Kovarian explained, although her tone didn't exactly portray regret. She was angry as hell but it was directed at one man instead of the fact that people died "And who was at the center of it? The Doctor. Have you seen the list of the dead?"

"Have you?" Avalon challenged.

Kovarian knew what she was trying to do and smiled. "My anger is not misplaced. This battle was specifically tailored to the Doctor because it originated from Torchwood. I believe you're familiar with the organization? Queen Victoria was like me. She saw the true danger the Doctor posed for the humans. She created Torchwood as a means to put an end to the man. But in the end, he put an end to it. People died at the hands of the Daleks and Cybermen. His own companion was thrown into a different universe. And that set the course for an even bigger battle that threatened the very existence of the universes."

New tears filled Avalon's eyes as she was forced to see the catastrophic aftermath. Streets were in ruins. Cars had exploded into fire. Several buildings were either half or completely destroyed. But there were so many corpses on the ground. everywhere.

"You didn't know that, did you?" Kovarian watches the tears rolling down Avalon's face. The ginger said nothing, but there was a clear fear etching across her features. "Lefevre!" Kovarian gave a hard yell.

The electric pads sent a riveting shock through Avalon's body. She screamed and wailed for them to stop. Each shock was worse than the last. It was as of everything inside her was on fire and there was no putting it out until Kovarian took pity on her.

When it was over, Avalon's body went limp against her chair. Her eyes wanted to close but she fought to keep them at least half open.

"Pain," Kovarian repeated just as she did each time the shocks were done. "That is what the Doctor is. Pain, destruction, and we have to end him."

However she could, Avalon glared but her mouth was temporarily unavailable. Kovarian knew this. Each time the shocks were over, Avalon would grow weaker against it. She would either die or she would finally start succumbing to effects.

"This is for your own good, for all of us," Kovarian moved around the chair so that she stood in front of Avalon. "I've seen the future and do you know what? I don't think you should even try to defend him. From where I stand, he's already replaced you and your little family." While Avalon couldn't say anything then, she still glared again. "And you've seen it too," Kovarian turned enough to gesture at the screen that was still showing the last pictures of the Canary Wharf battle. "It's a known fact that each time the Doctor faces a big battle, he leaves the companions behind. The one in that battle got lost in another world, and then the next one? Lefevre!"

The screen suddenly switched to a dark-skinned woman wearing a formal UNIT uniform. Avalon squinted her eyes to try and focus on the name tag the woman was wearing.

"Dr. Martha Jones walked the Earth for a year that none of us can remember to fight yet another Time Lord the Doctor was responsible for. The human nearly got killed and guess what happened? The Doctor -" Kovarian's voice took on a hard tone as she looked back at Avalon, "-moved on. And that bit of the woman? Did you know that there was a year completely lost? The Doctor erased a whole year that was full of blood thanks to him and his little Time Lord friend. No one can remember it. Only the Silence could, of course. They're useful like that. Bet the Doctor didn't tell you that, did he?"

Avalon didn't want to look so stunned but...she couldn't help it. What did she mean there was a whole year that none of them can remember? There were no stories about that, not even of Martha Jones fighting in it. The Doctor didn't say a word about it.

"And then the 27 planets that were stolen?" Kovarian yelled for Lefevre to switch pictures. "Oh, there were so many deaths that night. I believe this is where the Doctor moved on from yet another companion after sincerely - how do you humans say it? - screwing her over. Wiped her memories, the whole thing!" she made a quick gesture to the sides of her head.

Avalon's eyes narrowed the moment she thought about Donna Noble. She deeply regretted throwing that in the Doctor's face. That had to be one of the most terrible things he was forced to do. "Accident..." she managed to say. In talking, she got the taste of metal...making her realize there was a bit of blood in her mouth.

Kovarian mocked her with a laugh. "Oh, of course. And do you even know why it was possible for the worlds to be moved? Because that little companion from 2005 was able to cross worlds. The Doctor created a companion so dangerous that she literally broke the walls of the universe. If that doesn't prove how dangerous he is, I don't know what will!"

"N-not his...fault!" Avalon spat and felt bits of blood oozing from the corner of her mouth. It wasn't the Doctor's fault the choices his companions took.

"But it is," Kovarian turned right around to face Avalon. "The next one after that is you and your family. But guess what?" her face morphed into a mocking pout. "It won't last long either. Because I know for a fact that eventually the Doctor will move on from the Ponds. All of you." She made it pretty clear that really did mean everyone which, against her best efforts not to believe it, did sprinkle a bit of fear in Avalon.

Would the Doctor really move on from her too?

You did hurt him, she reminded herself. He has every right to drop you off too.

"And the next companion after you all is the one," Kovarian made sure to express her true hatred for whatever poor soul came next in line. "She's the one that brings the Doctor to the place where he will descend destruction on us."

"Then...kill...her," Avalon found herself saying. She didn't know who was meant to come into the TARDIS in the future but she didn't want the Doctor anywhere near a place that was meant to be a battle zone.

Kovarian feigned a sigh. "But she's a tricky one. I don't know the mechanics. Plus, if I kill her off then somebody else will inevitably bring the Doctor to that place. No, I have to go directly to the source, to the origin. Here. The Doctor has to die here, in this point of time."

Avalon swallowed hard when she got memories of Lake Silencio. But then she realized something...she couldn't remember everything. She started blinking fast the more she thought in vain. "I-I can't...I can't remember...Lake Silencio...what's-what's going on?"

There was a satisfied smirk playing on Kovarian's face. "Oh, the ECT is finally kicking in. The more we do this, the more fragile your brain becomes and once it's fragile enough we can start."

~ 0 ~

2 Months after Demon's Run

"STOP! JUST STOP!" Avalon screamed and wailed, her eyes screwing shut yet snapping open each second like a pattern. Her body twisted and writhed each time she felt a burning prick. "Please...just stop!" Her sobs echoed throughout the crystal clean room but none of the people inside would listen to her.

Two people held her body down, pinning her arms and legs against the metal table. When her skin made contact with the cool metal, she hissed. Her body was so susceptible to radical temperatures right now thanks to the series of tests Kovarian was running on her.

First, it'd been the insomnia test. They deprived Avalon of sleep for God knows what reason, but she was so tired. She'd always had trouble going to sleep but right now she would kill for an hour where she could just doze off. And once they figured out that Avalon could stay a minimum of four days awake, they moved onto to an expanded form of the test. Kovarian wouldn't settle for the simple 'let's see how long you can stay up', no. She would purposely change the temperature, leave Avalon in the dark and if Avalon dared to fall asleep, Kovarian would shock her. It was a piercing electricity that Avalon swore would make her body explode if the tests kept going.

And then they moved onto the injuries. How much could Avalon's body take?

They first started with simple cuts that Avalon would hiss and yell at them to stop. But things escalated. Cuts turned into full-fledged gashes where Avalon would physically want to pass out from how much blood she was losing. She swore that in one of those, somebody had actually touched her bones and organs.

Then Kovarian wanted to see what temperatures Avalon could withstand.

A blazing hot room was Avalon's home for a week. She had never craved water so much in her life. She did pass out a few times but then came the freezing cold. No matter how much she begged for them to stop or to at least give her a blanket, she was left in the ice cold room for another week. There were only intervals with regular temperature just so that she wouldn't die.

And now here she was for the latest test. Something about regeneration. The gashes would return and now they expected for her to heal herself but she didn't know how! How could she access energy that she didn't even know she carried!? And when she proved useless, Kovarian ordered for her people to carve into Avalon's body to examine that energy. One way or another, they would have that energy.

So there was Avalon, desperately crying for somebody to help her. Her right arm felt like it would fall off if she felt another burning cut. She turned her head to the left and blinked fast to get her sight cleared up. A woman was looking down at her behind a pair of glasses.

"Please...just stop...just...for a moment..." Avalon's voice was hoarse from all the screaming and the prior exams. "I...beg you..."

The woman paid her no attention. She just held Avalon's arm tightly and watched the exam continue.

Avalon honestly wished she was dead at this point. Nothing could be worse than what she was living. If she was lucky, they wouldn't find what they were looking for and they would just kill her.

~ 0 ~

2 Months after Demons Run

"Uh, no Dad, we...haven't found her yet," Lena wanted to speak as quietly as possible while talking to her father but it was impossible when she was forced to stay in the console with the Doctor's so very good hearing. She wanted to leave each time her father called to know their status on the search, but the Doctor wouldn't have it. He had made a promise to find Avalon and Melody and he wasn't living up to it.

It was like he was punishing himself by forcing himself to hear the disappointment in Lena's voice when she told her father that nothing changed. They were still completely lost.

With a sigh, Lena ended the call with her father. She didn't have to explain to the Doctor what it was about. "He just says he believes in you."

The Doctor let out a noise indicating his lack of faith in himself. He kept himself at the console, his fingers tiredly working through the controls.

"He knows you'll find her, though. He has no doubt about it," Lena kept insisting. "He says-" but she was interrupted by an alarm from the console. She was quick to react with wide eyes. "Is that-"

"-a clue!" the Doctor lunged for the side of the console that was giving off the alarm. He found new energy that sped him up through the process of discovering what the alarm was for.

"Well, what is it!?" Lena anxiously waited for him to say something.

"Don't know, it's...um, somebody's calling me from a Black Market in..." the Doctor leaned closer to the monitor, "It's a Black Market in the Black Eye Galaxy."

"The what now?" Lena blinked, but the Doctor didn't pay attention to her confusion. All he knew was that there was finally a possible clue of where Avalon was.

"Baby sister, you're gonna want to hang onto something! SAPLING!" his voice roared through the room. They had a new place to get to quick!

~ 0 ~

3 Months After Demon's Run

Three shots fired consecutively, each hitting of their intended targets.

Avalon swallowed roughly when she lowered her weapon and saw she'd gotten three more straight in a row. She blinked several times as she found she was unable to remember when she was ordered to fire. Her eyes swept over the room as if this were the first time she saw it.

It was huge and barely furnished. The only light coming through was from three small windows above. Avalon realized the room was underground, like a basement. Across of her were three dummies with bullets embedded mostly in the chest. She looked down at herself and could not for the life of her remember how she got into an oversized white blouse and skinny white pants. Even her hair was forced back into a messy low bun. Many of her curls - which were untamed and frizzy from lack of attention - were hanging around her face like curtains.

"How does this keep happening?" she whispered to herself, but she was never alone.

"Again," the Silence with her commanded.

Avalon swallowed hard and turned her head to the right where the ugly lone Silence stood. Her hand shakily moved up to her dry hair. "B-but I-I r-remember you. I can't rememb-b-ber a lot but I k-keep remembering you. How are you doing that?"

The Silence left a moment of silence pass by, as if it were actually constructing an explanation to Avalon's questions. Finally, it cocked its head to the side and answered, "Shoot again."

"No!" Avalon took aim on the Silence again, albeit her shaky arms didn't exactly cause fear. Half the time she didn't know if what she was seeing was a hallucination from everything she'd gone through, or if things really were as bad as they were.

"Oh put the weapon down, child," Kovarian ordered as she appeared in the room. "You do this every time." She was not phased when Avalon turned the gun on her. "As you do that."

"I don't understand, I-I remember things but it's in pieces," Avalon's hand curled tightly around the gun. "My b-bbrain...it hurts..." she brought her free hand to her massive curls and pulled on them in frustration. "Everything's all jumbled up..." her voice cracked in the end, confirming she was truly all over the place. She was losing control over her own thoughts. Her body would jerk suddenly, very often, thanks to the electric shocks. Her skin was dry, making it so easy to get cuts and bruises. And it showed.

Kovarian was proud of her newest experiment. It was working marvelously. It was easier to push Avalon and to control her. Now she wanted to give Avalon the ultimate test, the test that would prove if they'd successfully conditioned her.

"We're going out on a little trip," she announced, not that Avalon seemed to be paying attention. The woman had retreated a few steps and was mumbling words to herself, a nursery rhyme. "Yoo hoo! Anybody home?" Kovarian laughed at her own joke. "Bring her along," she ordered the Silence and turned to leave.

~0~

Avalon wouldn't recognize where they brought her, nor would she know how to get out. The entire place was covered in taverns. It seemed like was night underneath. Everybody looked suspicious, but everyone seemed to fear them - not her but the woman with her - and didn't want anything to do with them.

"You walk far too slow," Kovarian remarked as she studied every movement of Avalon's. Her walking would definitely have to improve. It looked like Avalon was dragging her feet. "And you're not examining your parameters. An enemy can easily take you down right now."

"T-tired..." Avalon said, too weary to say much more. "Why...am I-I here?"

"Because I want you to walk to the end of this line and back," Kovarian responded and a few seconds later came to a stop.

"What?" Avalon thought her hearing might be going too.

"Walk till the end of this aisle and back," Kovarian repeated. "Simple task."

"But why-" Avalon was cut off midsentence when Kovarian pulled out a gun on her.

"I don't explain my orders, child. I give the command and you follow them," she said with a dark tone that had started to seed fear in Avalon. She'd already gotten a taste of it with the ECT.

Avalon closed her eyes. She didn't want to remember that horrible week. She could still feel the electric shocks making her body tremble, and usually her body would shake and jerk. She just wanted it all to stop.

"Go! Before I shoot you and we both find out how strong your regenerative cycle is." Kovarian motioned with her gun for Avalon to start talking.

Avalon lowered her head and turned in the direction she'd been pointed to. In another moment, she would have probably been ecstatic to visit a real life Black Market. This is the place where all of the fun toys were at. But right now, anyone there could easily kill her with a lift of a finger. She couldn't fight anymore, she couldn't snap anymore, she couldn't think properly. She was just so tired, so incredibly tired, both physically and mentally. It was honestly sad how easily she broke. All those times where she thought she was strong was just a lie. She was weak.

Her feet started taking small steps forwards. At the very least if she walked away she would get a few minutes away from Kovarian and the Silence. That sounded nice.

But you'll have to go back, she reminded herself. It returned the fear in seconds.

She would have to go back, back to the torture, back to the nonstop 'training'. She didn't know how much more she could take, honestly. If she didn't die from exhaustion, she might just go crazy from all the memory blocks. If she was being honest, she didn't even remember what she did yesterday. For all she knew, she might have seen the Doctor yesterday.

Her feet came to an automatic stop. Would she forget something like that? Her hand found the Doctor's watch on her wrist, the very same watch she'd won in a bet a year ago. The Doctor swore she had cheated but he still gave up his favorite watch. She knew that if he wanted to, he would've just taken it back or never really had given it up in the first place, but he never did. He allowed her to keep it.

Now maybe you can give it back, came a pondering thought. Her eyes widened for a second as a genuine idea came to mind. It was probably the only coherent thought she'd had in a while. She looked over her shoulder and could barely see Kovarian which meant that Kovarian could barely see her.

Do it, the voice told her.

Avalon found the farthest stall in the aisle and dashed for it. It was an odd run, really, as it seemed like a combination of a hobble and a sprint. Her feet were a bit funny lately, but if she did things right she might finally get some rest (and the good kind not the dead type).

"What do you want?" barked the man in charge of the stall. He seemed human enough until Avalon realized he was a slimy green with spikes sticking up from his head. That probably made for some interesting business.

"I-I-I have..." Avalon involuntarily lost her voice for a second. All her words were trying to come out at the same time.

"I don't understand! Are you going to buy something!?" the man snapped.

Avalon quickly nodded her head. "Y-you're about to have the business deal of your life. You know the Doctor?" It was a stupid question given the man's reputation.

The man sneered. "That idiot who takes it upon himself to say what's right or wrong?"

"That's the one! Y-y-you want to owe him a favor?"

The man, despite his obvious dislike for the Doctor, arched a slightly thicker green eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if you g-g-give him th-this..." Avalon couldn't seem to get the watch off her as fast as possible, "You'll b-be doing him a huge f-favor and you'll h-have one of the most powerful p-people owing you one."

The man scrutinized the watch in her hand with obvious distrust. "Over a simple watch? You trying to have me?"

"I-I swear I'm n-not. This is h-his watch and I'm s-s-someone he's looking for. A-Avalon Reynolds. Tell him that n-name and y-you'll see how fast he comes." She was truly counting on it. At least one more time.

"And if not?"

"Then you just got yourself a nice watch you can probably tweak to hide something you don't want others to see." Avalon tried her best not to seen as nervous as she truly was. This could work only if the man followed through and if Kovarian didn't catch her.

"What did you say your name was?" the man was eyeing her appearance, as if committing her to memory.

She looked like an outright mess. Her clothes were disheveled. Her skin was poorly kept and the chapped cracks were beginning to show. She had a few bruises along her arms, decorating the healing stitches that looked pretty fresh. Every so often she would shake, just like her shaky voice and stuttering words. Her eyes had bangs under them, ugly purple bags. Her hair was in a low pony tail, but most of her curls were popping out in various directions. And the constant stammering was plain annoying.

"U-um, Avalon..." Avalon brought a hand up to scratch her cheek. She seemed like she would close her eyes to think about something, but once again her body jerked and she dropped her arms to her side.

"Wait a second," the man suddenly blinked as if he'd just realized something. "The Doctor was said to be collecting debts for a battle. He took several of my customers away. You're with the Silence, aren't you? The Kovarian chapter? I heard all about that. They took that baby. Pretty stupid if you asked me, picking a fight with him. But hey..." the man seemed to be making the connections based on Avalon's teary face. "Oh, you couldn't be...?"

Avalon's eyes filled with tears in that one second. "P-please," she resorted to begging. "D-Don't tell anyone a-a-anything. Just...just get the Doctor. If I g-get out, he'll owe y-you s-s-something."

"Really?" the man raised an eyebrow as he watched Avalon hold the watch. Her hand was trembling to the point of nearly dropping the watch. He was no idiot. She was scared out of her mind and with good reason. He had heard all about the stupid woman who decided to kidnap one of the Doctor's companions, along with their child, and now he had the glorious opportunity to force the Doctor's hand?

That was simply too good of a deal to pass up.

He snatched the watch off Avalon's hand, noticing the woman flinch in the process, and bared his yellow pointy teeth at her. "You got a deal."

Avalon was in disbelief that it actually worked. "R-really?"

"Oh yeah, I can't wait to see the Doctor's face when I force his hand," he eyed the watch now in his possession with newfound fondness. He knew the power he held.

Avalon swallowed hard. How mad would the Doctor be once he learned that she basically let someone borrow him? Hopefully he'd still help her in the end. "C-c-can I...leave a-a m-messsage?" she made a gesture as if she was writing something in the air.

"Oh alright," the man rolled his eyes and retrieved a scrap of paper and pen. However she could, she scribbled a quick message - though from where the man stood, it didn't seem like a message. It was more chicken scratch than anything. She could barely hold the pen as it was.

"Could you...b-break...break..." Avalon tapped the glass of the watch. Her strength wasn't for that anymore. The man once again rolled his eyes and shattered the glass of the clock. Avalon quickly took the watch into her hands and pushed in the crumpled paper inside. "Th-there..."

The man snatched the watch before she could say goodbye to it. It was the last piece of the Doctor she had, so she really hoped giving it away would be worth it. Otherwise, she'd just be completely alone now.

"Now scram!" the man roared and laughed when Avalon turned to run away. She truly was a scared little thing.

When Avalon made it back to Kovarian, she was exhausted. It was a struggle to catch her breath, as if she'd ran a whole marathon.

But Kovarian just smiled upon her work. From her perspective, Avalon had passed the test. She'd given Avalon the opportunity to run away, but she didn't. She came right back just like she was ordered to.

The conditioning was well on its way.

~0~

The TARDIS landed right where the signal had come through, not a minute too late. She was just as motivated to find Avalon and Melody as everyone else. After all, the two women were a part of her too.

"You're sure we're not late or anything?" Lena questioned while the Doctor did a quick surveillance on the monitor of the Black Market they were in.

"Of course. The TARDIS knows the danger Ava and Melody are in. She wants them back as much as we do, don't you old girl?" the TARDIS gave an affirmative hum. The Doctor continued to work until a new thought crossed his mind. "You know, I guess I now understand why you always liked Avalon so much."

Lena smiled when the TARDIS seemed to hum another 'yes'.

"You know she chose Avalon straightaway?" the Doctor glanced at Lena, feigning a pout. "First night your sister stepped in, the TARDIS was willing to let Ava take her for a ride." Lena laughed when the TARDIS hummed what could only be an 'of course'.

"Are we there now!?" the Sapling came running down the stairs. "Is Mother here!?"

"Ah, not yet sure," the Doctor said once he got back to work. For the most part, the market just seemed to be like any other market.

"So, what was the signal you got?" Lena inched closer to his side to catch whatever was on the monitor.

"Somebody's trying to send a message," the Doctor mumbled as he worked to decipher that precise message. "Psychic connection, you see. Trying to send it through the TARDIS. Ah! Here we are!"

The screen turned black for a moment. Particles were arranging to form letters.

'Avalon Reynolds. Watch.'

That certainly got the trio silent.

"Who sent that, big brother?" Lena found her voice a few minutes later.

"I-I don't know exactly," the Doctor dove to the keyboard to figure that out. His fingers wouldn't work fast enough for him. "S-somebody wanted to get my attention though because they sent it directly to me."

"Then we should go!" the Sapling darted for the doors when the Doctor ordered him to stop. "But why?"

"Because that is a Black Market and you are a child. I don't know who sent that message but they wanted me here," the Doctor strode towards the doors, making sure to usher the Sapling in the opposite direction. "Lena, survey the entire Market for any trace of Avalon."

"On it," Lena nodded. "But what are you gonna do? What if it's a trap?"

"Then at least you and the Sapling will be here to call for back up. River Song's on the dialing list!"

"I'm sure she is," Lena chuckled as she took position by the console.

The Doctor turned for the doors and straightened his jacket. "Let's do this." He pushed the doors open and walked out.

He started down the long aisle of stalls, making sure to scour each stall for any red hair or eye patch. If Avalon was here, he was not leaving without her. And if this was a trick, then pity the fool who was behind it. He was in no mood for jokes and the entire galaxies knew it.

Eventually, he found an icky, slimy green man giving him a funny eye. The Doctor first made sure that the green man was actually looking at him before walking over to his stall. "You wouldn't happen to know if anyone around sent a psychic message to say, oh, a blue box?"

The green man made no attempt to hide his glee. "That'd be me. Doctor, I presume?" the Doctor gave a brief nod, now eyeing the man up and down. "Your different than the appearance description I had of you. Course that was years ago."

"You sent the message?"

"Why yes I did." The man suddenly raised the Doctor's old watch in the air and had a good laugh pulling it away after the Doctor lunged for it. "So it's true then. It is yours and you are very determined to get it back."

The Doctor glowered at the man who's chest practically rumbled with laughter. "You have 10 seconds to tell me where you got that from."

"Oh no, no," the man waved a finger, showing off a bright yellow nail that matched the yellow shade of his teeth. "This is valuable. And don't deny it because I know it."

"Where'd you get it from?" the Doctor's tone was dangerously low.

The man smirked proudly. "Some girl gave it to me. Promised me it was valuable and what do you know? She's right."

"What. Girl?"

"Oh, you want to know what she looked like?" the man lowered the watch for a moment as he pretended to think about it, or as if he had to remember. "Well, to be honest with yah, she wasn't looking all that good. Skin looked ready to crack. She's human, ain't she? That's how humans get when they're, uh, what do you call it? Dehydrated? Or no, wait, dry? I don't remember-"

The Doctor lost it and yanked the man over the counter by his slimy green collars. "You have exactly 0.5 seconds to tell me where the hell you got the watch from."

"Or what? I know your stories, you don't do weapons," the man grinned far too confident.

"Let me put it to you straight: the girl I'm looking for is somebody I will do anything for. I'll throw you into a blackhole right now if you don't start telling me the story. And if you think you just got me to deal with? You got another thing coming. You know River Song?"

The man snorted with heavy distaste. "Blasted woman destroyed my stock in the Celeste Black Market."

"The girl is her daughter. You really want to have me and her on your bad list?" the Doctor wasn't comfortable using that truth for his gain but River told him use anything as his disposal to find Avalon. He would apologize for that later. It'd gotten him some information beforehand so it was definitely useful.

"You're kidding," the man laughed. "That girl is her daughter? Well, I guess that's probably where she got her bargaining her skills from. Sneaky little thing."

The Doctor unceremoniously shook the man. "You get River Song as a treat for being extra disgusting. She takes care of your Black Market stocks and I-" he pulled the man slightly closer to his face, "-will take care of you, personally." There was a sweet, dark smile spreading across his face that promised true horrors.

The man had the good sense to gulp. "F-fine! The girl said her name was Avalon Reynolds. Said if I gave you the watch you would owe me a favor. Some friend you got there, bargaining you off for her own personal gain."

The Doctor let the man go without warning - ignoring the slump noise when the man fell over the counter - and took his watch. He inspected it for any other clue Avalon might have left behind for him. He didn't have to look much since the very first thing he saw was the missing glass. There was a small paper crumpled inside.

"Left that for yah," the man muttered once he'd gotten himself off the counter. "She could barely write, though. Kept shaking and one of her fingers had cuts on them."

The Doctor tried not to picture that image. How scared must she be? I need to be faster. He unfolded the paper and quickly read the few lines Avalon had written.

Brainwashing me. I don't know how long I can keep my sanity, literally.

They keep moving me. It's always in dark places.

Melody's on Earth somewhere. They took her away from me 3 months ago.

I'm sorry.

Three months ago. The Doctor found it incredibly hard to stay on his feet right then. It'd been 3 months for Avalon. Three months that she'd spent with Kovarian under God knew what tortures. His hand gripped the watch tightly between his fingers.

"This is all she left behind?" he scrutinized the man for any clue that he might be holding back.

"Yeah. She didn't look like she could say much more; looked very sick. But you owe me, Doctor. That was the deal the girl promised me. I gave you what she wanted."

"Yeah, except you didn't hold her here," the Doctor stuffed the watch and the paper in his jacket's inside pocket. "Then I would've owed you something."

The man was outraged he'd been lied to. "You can't do that! If you don't uphold the end of the bargain I'll-"

"No, you really won't," the Doctor pulled out his sonic and aimed it at the shelves holding jars of glowing liquids. When the sonic was activated, each of the jars exploded like dominoes. The man screamed at the sight of his ruined products but the Doctor didn't flinch with either noise. He only watched as each jar shattered and splattered the stall. "Use this a message to everyone else: if they see Kovarian, the Silence, or Avalon Reynolds, they better call me or I'll come for them and destroy everything that's precious to them. That's a Time Lord's promise." He took off and allowed himself to relish in the man's suffering just for a bit. Or maybe for a long moment. Because if word got out that he would make anyone suffer should they not follow his instructions, he could get Avalon back quicker. And besides, anyone who hurt Avalon deserved to be terrified and to suffer in pain.

#ocappreciation #doctor who #11th doctor #dw imagine #11th doctor fics #11th doctor imagine #dw fics #doctor who fics #doctor who ocs #oc: Avalon Reynolds #fic: falling in temptation

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gayregis · 4 years ago

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Oh yeah that reminds me of another question I've been meaning to ask (sorry to jump on you like this haha) but which vampire canon change in B&W annoys you the most? For me it's the whole 'even touching silver will harm a vampire' (when it's explained that Syanna figured out Dettlaff was a vampire because he wouldn't directly touch a silver candlestick). I just choose to ignore that detail bc I don't think it makes much sense haha

omg this is such a good ask im so excited to answer

first of all, i really agree with you, even when i hadn’t read the books fully i had read that one passage in lady of the lake where regis gestures with a silver fork at the banquet, and blood and wine tries to make it so like regis and dettlaff are the same “kind” of vampire, so this obviously doesn’t make any sense, and since it’s just such a small detail i tried to ignore it, like, maybe dettlaff just wanted to keep the silver candlestick fingerprint-free, ever consider that, syanna? you’re gonna pawn something, you don’t want like a billion fingerprints mucking it all up... and then syanna thought this made him a vampire, when in reality he was a vampire but the candlestick had fuckall to do with it

but yeah i think i’m gonna do like a top 5 style: TOP 5 THINGS CDPR GOT WRONG ABOUT THE VAMPIRES. im not gonna do a countdown because im a very direct person and think its best to get the worst out of the way.

1. their society and relationship with humans.

the thing that upsets me the most that cdpr changed is how vampires exist on the continent. stuff like tesham mutna and the unseen elder breaks canon lore so hard it makes me physically upset.

this is a bad thing because not only is the trope of “vampires control everything from the shadows as a secret society so they can feed on human blood” incredibly boring and overdone (it’s a trope, so it’s something that the witcher should stand to invert since that’s pretty much the purpose of the witcher), but it also has origins in antisemitism (the myth of the illuminati or “reptilians/secret societies controlling the world”, blood libel), so it’s super gross! i don’t want the vampires to be that trope, that’s completely unfair.

they already were something other than that trope, they already HAD their own society (or lack thereof) as part of the canon lore. maybe it is personal preference, but i think that their “anti-society” is super interesting. how does something like that function with no rules or figures of authority or customs? it’s incredibly different to the ways humans function in this universe, who are mostly bound around their nation, city/town/village, and home unit, and abide by strict custom and systems of authority. it’s really something to be explored from a lore perspective, there wasn’t a whole lot explained in canon (for good reason: see #2) so it has perfect potential to be elaborated upon in the adaptational spinoff that is the witcher games.

it makes them super boring and trope-y to have them all kowtow to One Figure Of Authority in the area. plus CDPR states that the reason toussaint is so perfect is that this secret society controls toussaint as an area to perfect blood, when toussaint literally existed as a fairy-tale duchy to be an OBSTACLE to geralt and his hansa in the saga. it was the “leave-your-quest” test. think of the island of the lotus eaters from the odyssey. it’s a perfect place, there’s no reason as to why it is perfect, it just is, and it keeps the company hostage there for months so they will get distracted and eventually forget what they came there for.

in canon as well, vampires do not seem to care much about humans. regis certainly does, but he is regis :). there was little conversation about how vampires view humans, rather about how humans view vampires and project their innermost fears and desires to them. further breaking some vampire tropes. in blood & wine. instead of that trope-flipping, we get... “vampires tortured humans out of curiosity and selfishness.” what? why would they do this? there is not much to gain, and it would take a lot of cooperation and effort to get to this point, which leads me to ask, HOW could they do this? as regis says in bof, there were only about 1,200 vampires when they arrived on the continent, so they were completely and utterly outnumbered as they were likely scattered around. they wouldn’t be able to build a castle and re-engineer toussaint to fit their needs. i understand that he is massively biased, but i feel like regis calls these first vampires “hapless survivors” for a reason, and also since regis is regis, i do not feel like he would feel this way about them if they committed massive crimes against humanity.

tl;dr for this point: not only is it fucked up for no reason but to be gross/shocking to the audience, but it also removes their purpose as a metaphor, which is #2.

2. the removal of their purpose as a metaphor in the story.

originally, the vampires are not meant to be the focus of the witcher series or even a smaller part of the series at all. they are simply a metaphor for aspects of human society so that regis can have a backstory. the vampires are nothing more than a fictional means of exploring the effects of alcoholism, and a thought experiment as to what an authority-less, family-less, custom-less society would be like. the question “what do youth do when they have no support and no guidance?” already is one of the witcher’s major questions as a saga, the vampires and regis’s backstory serves to be another one of the stories within it that fits this theme. except we add more conditions to the thought experiment this time, like “what if these youth never aged and were powerful enough to survive on their own?” there would be no reason for them to ever change or grow out of their behavior. it’s quite interesting, because it’s meant to reflect upon human nature, the vampires are metaphorically humans. there is no reason for regis to even be a vampire, except that he needs to be able to survive death and learn from his mistakes. a human would have died had he hit rock bottom like regis did, but since regis wasn’t human and could rise from the grave, he had the chance at a new life. humans don’t get second chances. this is the point of the entire story being about vampires.

now, i understand that the purpose of the witcher games is to entertain, unlike the point of the witcher book series, which are like any other books and serve an author’s message. so, it stands to reason that the vampires do not have to prove a strong point here, but they should retain their essential traits and serve as the metaphor which was already really interesting and deserves more explanation and thought. i think using a fictional lens to take a look at real-world issues can be helpful sometimes, when done respectfully and when still using creativity. even if it’s just to entertain, that doesn’t mean it should be brainless and throw all of the commentary out of the window.

the vampires as a subject for the game to focus on should really be a vessel for thought and critique. it should mean SOMETHING for them to be there, because they were originally a message and a metaphor.

but in blood & wine, they are incredibly shallow, only there to exist for the attention-getter of gore.

does it MEAN anything that dettlaff regenerated regis from his own flesh and blood? or does that just happen because we needed a convienient way to bring regis back and tie him to the antagonist? does it MEAN anything that dettlaff cuts off his own hand? or is that just because it’s cool and kinda gross. does it MEAN anything that the vampires attack beauclair? or is that just because there needed to be some violence and conflict.

there is no deeper meaning! it’s all just flashiness to shock the audience! it’s incredibly shallow and because it is shallow, it becomes boring and forgettable.

blood & wine focuses on details about the vampires that are gross, gorey or bloody, uncomfortable because of how nasty they are. and these elements have NO PURPOSE to the story other than to gross you out, like regis being regenerated, dettlaff skewering regis like a kebab, dettlaff cutting off his hand and that hand being handled by the bruxa, geralt, and regis, regis going crazy in a cage, syanna also getting skewered, etc. ... it’s this focus on the physical action that is happening on screen with little thought as to any deeper meaning that makes me tired and nauseous. why treat the vampires as savage animals?

as a mention in this topic, i am going to comment on how they deliberately changed the lore to “make childrens’ blood taste better than adults’ blood,” because that is mega-gross. why change it to focus on child endangerment? that’s nasty! why make orianna feed on children when it was LITERALLY canon that the “best” blood was that of strong adults? if you want to make orianna morally grey, she could have owned any other kind of place to get blood from. see #2 for more discussion of this.

3. their focus on the conjunction of the spheres.

the vampires never had this obsession with “returning home.” i... have no idea where this comes from. remember how i just said that i appreciate a metaphor for real-life when it is done respectfully? CDPR gave us this awkward metaphor for the vampires “wanting to go home” because they have to “assimilate” in this new world, apparently every vampire ever misses their homeland. ... it’s the story of immigrants who didn’t have a choice to be born in The New Land, but they were anyways, and now they want to go home. and it’s the story of minority groups, who are overshadowed by the society they live in, but cannot be themselves in, because it would mean violence.

this is an incredibly awkward metaphor just because it’s not done well, but also CDPR literally just focused on how extremely violent the vampires are, and how they also control everything so they can use the humans they were thrown in with to their own fancies. this is... i didn’t know that the metaphors for fantasy racism in the witcher could get any worse than sapkowski’s were.

also, there’s some weird lore-breaking moments when regis says he misses the vampire homeworld or whatever, and i just am left staring at my laptop like. you’re only like, 4 centuries old, regis. the conjunction of the spheres occured more than 3 times your age in the past. plus the fact that regis in baptism of fire calls himself a “descendant,” it’s obvious that someone at cdpr just didn’t do their research when writing those lines.

4. their power level and exactly how powerful they are.

let’s take a moment to think about a grain of truth. the second story in the witcher books, it was written before sapkowski had a lot of the vampire lore down-pat. geralt says things like “it’s silver, this blade is silver” and “an ordinary vampire couldn’t come out in the sun,” which are incongruent with what we learn in baptism of fire about vampires. but nevertheless, there’s a lot which is still accurate to the vampires, such as that VEREENA ABSOLUTELY KICKS GERALT’S ASS. geralt very nearly DIED in that fight, he was ABOUT to die, but nivellen saved him at the last split-second. geralt finds out that vereena is a bruxa, and he is alarmed, he shouts and then falls on his ass. he scrambles, he’s unprepared to deal with a foe THIS powerful. he manages to land his sword on her during the fight, but it barely harms her. she dodges incredibly, and swipes of his sword that should have hit do not. she screams terribly, and geralt is in incredible, writhing pain. he uses his signs to help him, this is no normal fight with a normal foe. flash forward to in baptism of fire, when geralt meets another vampire, one that is considerably more powerful and unique than vereena was. dandelion asks geralt, if ... potentially... maybe... and geralt responds that he sincerely doubts that he could beat regis in a fight, and he really does not want to have to try.

geralt was BESTED by vampires in the books. he was as close as a witcher can get to being INTIMIDATED by their power. but what happens in blood & wine? there’s like 8 bruxae and alpors ganging up on you and you can easily vanquish all of them with your silver sword and by knocking back maybe a glass of black blood and white raffard’s decoction. it’s fine, it’s easy to kill vampires. geralt doesn’t hesitate to fight dettlaff. he doesn’t worry, he doesn’t tell anyone that he sincerely doubts that he could beat him in a fight, that he doesn’t want to have to try. instead, it’s regis talking geralt out of the fight, trying to advocate for peace.

CDPR massively nerfed the vampires just to make them easier targets for the player. i think this is unfair to how the vampires were powerful threats to be reckoned with in the books, foes that even geralt, a witcher, did not want to face. not even out of geralt’s pacifism and apprehension to slay innocent and/or sentient beings, but out of not wanting to fucking hit that die button

i also understand that regis was supposedly less powerful now because he was just tired from being regenerated, but vampires like bruxae should have been able to turn into giant bats. there’s nothing stopping them besides cdpr not wanting to code it in, just like how they didn’t want to code in bruxae or alpors wearing clothes (because vampires do wear clothes in canon).

5. their classification: adding new vampire species, distinguishing between “higher vampires” and “TRUE higher vampires”

just plain annoying to me. there’s only seven types of vampires, as regis says in baptism of fire:

“In the case of higher vampires, never, I agree,” Emiel Regis said softly. “From what I know alpors, katakans, moolas, bruxas, and nosferats don’t mutilate their victims. On the other hand, fleders and ekimmas are pretty brutal with their victim’s remains.”

“Bravo,” Geralt said, looking at him in genuine admiration. “You didn’t leave out a single class of vampire, Nor did you mention any of the imaginary ones, which only exist in fairy-tales.”

so there are seven classes... five of which are higher vampires which can probably be classified by having sentient thought and not harming their victims, two of which are lesser vampires, which are quite violent with their victims and more animalistic for this reason.

also i am confused as to why CDPR made fleders the least likely to sustain flight, when their name i’m pretty certain is taken from fledermaus, the german word for bat, which just means flying mouse (feel free to correct me if i’m wrong, idk german), so “fleder” should just mean “flutter,” or “to fly.”

SO. it’s total bullshit to be like “there’s some higher vampires and then TRUE/REAL higher vampires, which cannot be killed...” and it confuses everyone as to who is ACTUALLY a higher vampire and who is not, when the system we had before wasn’t broken at all!

BONUS. general changes to vampire powers

it annoys me how they turn into puffs of mist/smoke instead of vanishing, simply vanishing. no deeper reason why, it just bothers me because you’re not supposed to be able to see them at all, that’s the point of turning invisible/incorporeal.

there was no mention or demonstration of how regis can hypnotize people, even though that was probably his most frequently used vampire power in the books asides from turning invisible/incorporeal. it showed that even though he was very powerful, he opted to use his passive powers and nonviolent routes of dealing with people.

i think it also makes the vampires way overpowered to be able to regenerate each other with each other’s blood ... and it takes away from the finality of stygga... also them just flying and turning into bats whenever they want, as if regis didn’t say that he can only turn into a bat during a full moon. they made them overpowered and still made it super easy for geralt to kill them. alright

#ask #vamp squad #regis #dettlaff #dol--blathanna #long post /

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jelanisaeed · 4 years ago

Text

Round 1: VS Venonat - Legends Part 1

Hello everyone, welcome to my story! This is the first book in a series I'm writing. Hopefully, it'll be finished the way I want it to be. I have a lot of plans to manipulate known facts and add my own into the fray as well.

Sorry, y'all! I didn't mean to fall off on writing this. I just got self-conscious. But I'm not going to let that get into the way anymore! I'm gonna stay on top of writing this!

Especially with this new writing style I've got! I've discovered I'm more a slice of life, mystery, fantasy type of writer. Not so much action like I originally tried. So, my chapters will be much shorter than before and will have great character interactions. I hope y'all like it this go around! And I promise I'll do better with staying on top of things!

I've made a lot of changes to the OG story, along with the previous version so I'll make sure to spot them out and let y'all know!

Oh, and quick disclaimer. I'm a black queer writer so all of my stories, including this one, will have characters who explore black and queer themes. I hope this creates a welcoming atmosphere for all to enjoy my stories and see a different perspective on pokemon and what it can be written about.

I also hope to inspire more black and queer writers to write stories on this site. The more the merrier!

Oh and I'm thinking about doing this thing where I tell y'all what music helped me write these chapters. It's a fun little thing. Mainly because music is a big part of my writing process so I thought it'd be fun to share with y'all!

So these three chapters were inspired by the Calling All Lovers album by Tamar Braxton! I love her voice and have been obsessed with her recently! She's always been one of my favs (#piscesgang) but this revisit to this gem just kept me going! I believe the song that helped a lot was Broken Record.

Special shoutout to Big Dummy by Cocoa Sarai (#piscesgang) as well! That song kept me motivated.

Without further ado, I hope you enjoy it!

…

Pokémon Adventures: Turquoise, Jasper, & Ammolite

Round 1: VS Venonat – Legends Part 1

Location: Twinleaf Town Date: August 4th, 3000 Time: 8:45am

Legends. Paxton grew up on the grand tales of mystery and wonder. Weaved together by ancient people who desired to understand the world around them. From declarations of the universe’s creation to the birth of emotions. A legend existed for them all. And all found themselves scribed and stored in libraries across Sinnoh.

Once upon a time, he believed them. Sat amongst groups of budding trainers in awe as their teacher’s spun these tales. Admired the scholars who backed up these claims with beautifully dressed lies. Part of him wished he believed them. At least then he’d preserve the innocence he lost long ago.

Not that it mattered. Innocence didn’t make for a great travel companion. Clouded the mind and led even the best astray. Paxton knew he’d never succumb to it. Not again.

“Ain’t that right, Kiri?” his little formantis thrilled beside him. She fell in step beside him, having just defeated a wild bidoof. Annoying rodents with the worst aromas.

Under the morning sun, he kept moving. Summers in Sinnoh never made much sense. Despite the heat, a chilling breeze whisked by. Eastern winds—had to be from the lake. Still, a bit musty for his taste. He heard Lake Verity was a beautiful place filled with energetic, young pokémon. Perhaps just another well-crafted lie.

It doesn’t matter. Paxton shrugged and continued his path. He had his mission and pitstops didn’t fit the bill. Soon enough, he found himself inside Twinleaf Town. A cute little place filled with morning folks. They took to the streets with their pokémon and tended to their business. A few merchant stands set up with fresh produce and supplies.

“Pretty nice, huh?” Kiri agreed. She breathed in the fresh air and thrilled. Much better for her than Jubilife City.

Now, if any of them could point him in the right direction—

“I tell ya it’s true!” A youngster wailed to a crowd. Quite the sight, Paxton mused. Clothes tattered and caked with mud. His youthful tan marred with bruises and an odd burn across his forearm.

“There’s a monster in the lake! It attacked me and my nidoran!”

A monster in Lake Verity? Paxton frowned. Too farfetched for his taste. Powerful pokémon never lingered along the lakefront, so the merchants told him. The most dangerous any trainer encountered was a choleric gyarados!

There’s no such thing as monsters, he scoffed but got closer regardless. The kid had a story, no doubt about it. Perhaps it would prove to be a challenge for him.

Though his hopes weren’t high. Twinleaf Town hadn’t produced capable trainers in years—

“The boy speaks truth, if only misguided,” an elderly man took the boy’s side with a pleasant smile. Eyes narrowed with wisdom as leaned against his cane. “There’s always been a force protecting the lakefront. A guardian blessed by Lady Mesprit herself. It serves to protect the grounds from intruders.”

A guardian, the Paxton scoffed. Yet another well-dressed lie. And the crowd around him shared his thoughts if their whispers were any indication.

Clearly, the elder saw no reason to stop. He only adjusted his kimono and tapped his cane against the lush grass. A soft, melodic sound, yet it quieted the confused herd of people. Paxton whistled. Plenty of teachers killed for that superpower, especially on the last day of classes.

“Now, now,” The elder smiled, gingerly tapping the pokéball on his cane. “We all knew of the legend.”

The ball snapped open and released a pokémon before them all. A beautiful feline with glowing, white fur. The perfect contrast to its pitch-black skin and talons. Armed with a scythe-like tail and a crescent horn jutting from its forehead.

It glared at him with glowing red eyes. Eyes filled with frosty wisdom. Lingered on him, demanding something the trainer wasn’t prepared to give.

He flinched. Not his proudest moment. And the pokémon agreed, turning up its nose with a snarl.

“You feel it, Absol?” The man said in a graveled whisper. At once, the strange pokémon—absol, he supposed—growled. The elder stroked its forehead and locked eyes with the trainer. “Young man, what is your name.”

Part of him wanted nothing more than to flip the old geezer off. He hated unwanted attention. Yet the questioning gaze of the crowd made him shrink. Of course, that geezer had them wrapped up in his every word.

“Paxton,” he spoke softly, gathering Kiri closer for comfort. She glared and waved her arms for battle. “Paxton Lotus of Floaroma Town. This is my partner pokémon, Kiri the formantis.”

The geezer nodded with a strange smile. But Paxton couldn’t place why it disturbed him. “You all remember the legend,” the geezer spoke again. “A child blessed with verity. Discovered by the peaceful flower.” Paxton groaned. Of course, this had something to do with him. No wonder he didn’t trust the geezer. “Tell me, young one. What has brought you to his town?”

Easy. He had his mission. Deliver the package and report back to Professor Kapok. Nothing special. He did plenty of these over the weeks.

“To see the lake guardian with my own eyes,” Paxton spoke, but words felt foreign. “And start my journey with an adventure.”

“An adventure,” The man smiled. A knowing smile Paxton saw plentifully on Father’s face. “An adventure intertwined with the red strings. Yes, you certainly shall receive one. Follow me, please youngling.”

Something tells me I shoulda stayed in Floaroma Town

…

Suddenly, staying in Floaroma Town felt like the right move. Paxton sighed and ran a hand over his green coils. Lake Verity didn’t live up to the legends. No bustling pokémon or fairy spirits. Not even a spontaneous battle—though, Paxton yearned for it well. Just silence and a thick fog.

A strange fog at that. It hung over the trees until they caved to its weighed. Many bent at odd angles. Not even Eterna Forest looked so eerie. And that forest had far too many ghost-type pokémon.

“I hate this place,” Paxton shivered. The air seemed so cold and heavy. And each brush of air prickled his skin with sharpened icicles.

Paxton paused by a familiar tree. Passed it a few times now, he knew. No other tree had these strange cravings on the bark. Some language, he wagered. However, the letters seemed bizarre and had cycloptic eyes. Strange, yet they seemed familiar. As if he saw them in a dream before.

{Paxton…} a voice whispered on the wind. Eyes darted around, but Paxton couldn’t find the source. Yet the voice continued, whispering his name in an offbeat rhythm. {Paxton…}

Great, I’m loosin’ it! Paxton groaned. Yet the voice paid him no heed. Each whisper grew louder than the last with a pronounced echo. Mashed together with words until it jumbled into an incoherent mess. Pain shot through his mind and Paxton stumbled. Braced against the tree, he stared into the fog and froze.

A figure breached the fog. Pale as ice with messy coils and lifeless eyes. Naked yet the wisping streamers of the fog covered anything unsavory. The figure stared at him with shinning sky-blue eyes…and smiled. Giggled even!

Is that a ghost? Paxton swallowed. Spirits weren’t his forte. In fact, they freaked him out!

{Paxton…} the ghost spoke even though its lips never moved. It urged him to follow as it stepped back into the fog. {Paxton…}

…Hell. Against his better judgement, he followed it. Chased it through the shifting fog as Kiri appeared beside him in a burst of light. He needed her. If this ghost was anything like the kind in Kanto, then he couldn’t take any chances! Would’ve been a perfect time to find that guardian though.

Guardian…what if that ghost was the guardian? A chill ran down his spine. He hoped not. Dealing with the undead was Casper’s thing, not his! He had enough of ghost-type pokémon ever since he got lost in that busted down chateau!

Still, he put those thoughts aside and chased its faded form. Even as his lungs screamed at him to take a break. Or his legs struggled to keep up. He fought through it. And Paxton found himself in a clearing. Empty, yet devoid of the heavy fog. Just a soft breeze and lake water as it crashed against the ground.

The ghost turned to him and grinned. Eyes filled with mirth as it lifted off the ground and floated to the lake. Paxton followed and gazed in awe. The ghost danced above, swinging its arms. It spiralled through the morning skies and giggled. Soft and melodious as the soft waves rolling through. And with a grin, the ghost dove into the lake.

Glittering light erupted across the water. Engulfed the lake in a rainbow splendor.

For a moment, Paxton stared into the light. Entranced as thoughts raced through his mind. Feelings, long since buried, unearthed and flooded him in a sparkling array of light—

(Veno-NAT!)

Paxton didn’t realize he moved until the heat hit him. As he rolled along the soft grass, charred dirt sprinkled his skin. Ignited by flashes of green light. Something attacked him, but he couldn’t see anything in the grass. Just rustling as the breeze blew through—

(NAT!)

This time, Paxton was ready. He lunged away as streaks of light smashed into the ground. Unharmed except for the light scarps. Good enough for Kiri as she dashed into the fight. She weaved through the streaks of light and unleashed a spiral of glowing leaves into the tall grass. Trimmed grass fluttered through the air, but the rustled told him all he needed to know.

“Kiri, widen your range and trim the grass! Razor Leaf!”

Sharpened leaves ripped through the air and trimmed the tall grass. Amongst the fallen leaves, he caught a glimpse of the assailant. Purple for sure…and were those clodhopper feet?

The creature paused in the epicenter of the field. And…it had to be the ugliest thing Paxton ever saw. Thick, disheveled purple fur mashed with giant, red eyes, stubby paws and insect features. Poor thing. Nobody’d ever train something so hideous.

This must be the monster. Paxton frowned. Ugly or not, he had to get rid of it.

“Kiri, time to water the garden.” Kiri rushed it and slashed it across the chest. The bug cried out, but Kiri didn’t stop there. She slashed and slashed, drawing pained buzzes from the creature. Now that Kiri had a target, that bug didn’t have a chance.

“That’s it! Fury Cutter!”

Once Fury Cutter went to work, it didn’t matter what pokémon Kiri faced. Each slash gained greater strength than the last. A nasty move for sure but made pokémon battles so much easier. The bug stumbled away from a slash and hopped away. But Kiri raced after it, unleashing more spiraling leaves to smash into its back.

“Finish it, Kiri! Leaf—”

Kiri cried out, low and mangled, as she fell forward! Her blades held her up, but she gasped for air.

But how?! Paxton watched in horror as the air rippled and smashed into Kiri, blowing her back. He lunged for her. Caught her just before she crashed. And when he pulled her close, he found streaks of purple staining her green skin. Poison?

(Nat?) The bug hopped over. Body tensed as green light oozed underneath its messy fur. Paxton dipped a hand to his belt. He had the perfect pokémon for this ugly—

“Motha,” A calm, melodious voice washed over the field. And the beast paused. “That’s enough.”

The beast hobbled over to the lake with a certain bounce that Paxton didn’t appreciate.

“That’s enough fighting, please,” the same voice spoke again. And a trainer climbed out of the crystal waters. Clad in only a pair of black briefs decorated with bugs and bubbles. His soaked black coils hung over his eyes, dripping water down his toned hazelnut body. When he finally moved the coiled curtains, Paxton caught sight of sky-blue eyes.

Just like that ghost.

But…his looked so shattered.

“Who are you?” He spoke again with that same melodious quality. Only this time, there was a noticeable edge. Like a cliff blocking a powerful wave. “What are you doing in Lake Verity?”

Paxton scowled. Figures the monster had a trainer. It fought too well to be wild. But it didn’t make sense. Why attack? Paxton shook his head.

“My name is Paxton—Paxton Lotus of Floaroma Town,” he gulped. His heart pounded against his chest. “I’m here to defeat the monster in Lake Verity. That you, ain’t it?”

The trainer paused. And his eyes darkened with flecks of gray.

“I am the guardian of Lake Verity,” he began slowly as a storm brewed behind his lips. “My name is Turquoise. Turquoise Yukule.”

…

How did y'all like that chapter? It took some time to perfect, but I loved the twist it took! I'm happy with it.

Paxton's a new character I made. Lowkey based him off of a mix of the Aroma Lady and Gardener Trainer Classes. I'm starting to really fuse Trainer Classes for some reason and I love it lol

And yay, Turquoise is back! He's literally my favorite little bubble of sunshine. I love his character and did some changes to him too. I'll let y'all know his Trainer Class next chapter!

But I'd to hear from y'all. Feel free to leave a review or PM me. I'd love to hear your feedback. And I'll do my best to respond to all reviews as well!

#Pokemon #LGBT

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grimmbrookhq · 5 years ago

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TRAMP ▶ TYLER DECKER

( FAIRY TAILS BARTENDER ● 35 ● SEBASTIAN STAN ● TAKEN )

Ryan Decker’s girlfriend left him when their son was six months old. He hadn’t wanted the kid but a near-miss incident on the steps seemed to trigger something paternal in him and, soon he was doing everything to provide a better life for Tyler.. Ryan only had his GED but began taking odd jobs around town: he was seen as a good man, a hard worker and a dedicated father.

Tyler considered his pa his best friends growing up but when he started school, his dad picked up more jobs and they grew apart. Ryan was trying to save money for Tyler’s college fund and Tyler was busy falling in with the wrong crowds. He’d get in trouble daily, detentions and suspensions becoming commonplace. Grades were abysmal aside from art and the only reason he was decent at that was because there were no rules. But even that talent fell to the wayside once partying took over. It broke his father’s heart that he barely scraped by in high school and was rejected by every college he’d lazily applied to.

Without prospects, he got various jobs around town, scraping by. Still frequenting parties, he met a guy, Mike, and what began as a casual fling soon turned into a relationship for a year. Tyler loved him but everything changed five years ago, when Mike got behind the wheel, intoxicated, and Tyler was too drunk to do anything about it. They t-boned an elderly couple’s car. He was sent flying and Mike was, unfairly, unscathed aside from cuts and a concussion. He left the scene of the crime and high tailed it out of town, too scared to call the police because he’d been behind the wheel at the time.

Tyler was in the hospital for months with two broken legs, broken ribs, a punctured lung and severe head trauma. They had him in a coma for weeks, his father beside him the entire time. He didn’t believe when they said Mike skipped town, nor the fact that the elderly couple they’d hit had died and until they could prove otherwise, he was the prime suspect who’d get charged. Eventually, this was dropped when an eyewitness and CCTV showed Mike leaving the scene. It fucked Tyler up. He’d love him and he’d left him for dead. His recovery wasn’t easy but months later, Tyler could walk again. His dad had lost two jobs taking care of him in the hospital, so he knew he had to do something to make sure his dad wasn’t dipping into what little retirement he had. One of the only places that actually looked at his lackluster resume was Fairy Tails, where he’s been bartending since.

CONNECTIONS ▶

SIMON CHURCH – His boss and one of the only people who had heard about the events associated with his name, and who saw his barely-there resume, and still hired him. He started by giving Tyler the shitty shifts until he worked his way up to being a decent enough bartender to cover the high-traffic times. Tyler doesn’t really talk to him much but he’s been in enough rough crowds to know that Simon Church is not someone you disappoint.

CORDELIA DU PONT – The nurse who refused to let him mope around and encouraged him daily for months as he was recovering. They’ve become best friends in the years since and in that time she’s been a terrible wingman but an ardent supporter. When his dad died, she was at the funeral with him. She’s the one who encourages him to work towards something, not just work to get by, and even pulled strings to help him get into Grimmbrook University’s art program at. He’s started taking classes here and there, but doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s not sure he can do it. He doesn’t want to let her down like he let his dad down so many times, but thinks he might.

ARIELA LOPEZ – Ariela is the friend he turns to when he needs to let loose. She's always known how to have a good time. He may not party as hard as he did before his accident, but Tyler still knows how to enjoy himself. Ariela was also the eyewitness who placed Mike at the accident. When she heard that Tyler might get charged, she sent in an anonymous tip and that tip was corroborated by video footage. Tyler doesn’t know any of this but Mike has also always been a strictly off-limits subject since the accident.

ALEXANDER YAO – The guy annoys the shit out of Tyler. He walks around like he’s Mother Teresa, saving all the poor souls in Grimmbrook from their terrible, pointless lives. He always tries to make conversation with Tyler when he sees him at the University. That alone is enough to make him want to drop out altogether. There’s something about someone who has their shit together like Alexander does, that pisses him off a bit. He acts like he’s some great hero and all his accomplishments are his own, seemingly owing nothing to the fact that he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He wouldn’t be half the man he thinks he is had it not been for a good start in life. Just hearing Alexander’s name makes him bristle and roll his eyes.

DANIEL MICKEY – The asshole he found out tried to take a blood sample while he was unconscious in the ER. He’d never been one for authority figures, but this guy takes the cake. Tyler can’t help but make snide remarks whenever he comes in contact with the detective and it's not like he’s Daniel’s favorite person either. If it wasn't for the fact that Daniel could throw his ass in jail, and that assaulting civilians was never encouraged behavior for law enforcement, the two would certainly come to blows. If their verbal sparring were physical, it would be a bloodbath.

#new roleplay #fantasy rpg #horror rpg #murder mystery rp #sebastian stan #tyler decker #grimm.skeleton #car accident tw #drunk driving tw #simon #cordelia #ariela #alexander #daniel

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miryel89 · 5 years ago

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We Are Connected

[ Parkner/Keenker - After End Game - Slash ]

Chapter I. Talk About You

If there is one thing that Harley has understood, it is that asking Peter how he feels, it will always imply the same, same answer.

"I'm fine."

But Peter isn't fine; not all the times, at least. Harley knows perfectly what his constant thought is - incessant, in those moments where he's sad and, although he may be suffering less, he can understand it in part. He would like to give him a hand. Help him win that grief that he just can't get out of his soul, his heart and his fingers. Those same ones that tremble, every time he sees him squeeze them around their knees, when they are at the Stark house and keep Morgan company, sitting on that same sofa, every holy Wednesday, every week, every month, from that day. Harley looks at him smiling at that little woman, who is carrying too many things that Tony Stark was, and every time he tries to open his mouth to ask Peter what's wrong, he blocks that intent in the bud, because after all he already knows the answer. Because Peter is off. Grey. Empty .

Harley loved Tony. He respected him, admired him, loved him, but not in the same way - nor with the same intensity, with which Peter Parker did it - and with which he is probably still doing it. No one told him how things really went between them, but it is not difficult to understand that, for Tony, Peter was much more than a pupil or an adopted son. Peter was a lover and Harley, in some ways, is less surprised than he would have expected, of that fact. In those five years that the boy disappeared, Tony told him about him, and he always did it giving him the impression that he needed it urgently. Something he could not repress, and though Harley initially felt replaced, that feeling immediately disappeared when he realized there had been more, among them and had respected that feeling without unraveling a single comment from the mouth. Without judging; and he hadn't even done it in his own head. He hadn't been able to.

"Are you staying for dinner?" Asks Pepper, with a hopeful smile that vibrates on her face. Harley knows that she needs company, that loneliness crushes her and reminds her how much that house has lost a big chunk of herself since her husband died. Harley smiles and opens his mouth, but Peter is faster and beats him on time.

"No, I'm not ... I have to go. Tomorrow I have a exam and I would like to be able to go over something, at least before going to sleep. Thank you for the invitation, however, Miss Potts," he says and the dark halo that surrounds him, seems more overwhelming than usual. Since Tony died, the emptiness left - difficult to fill, is enormous, gigantic, mammoth; yet every day things seem to go better; yet everyone seems, slowly, to accept that lack - or better, to get used to the fact that Tony will never return and that we will have to have a damn thing very soonreason. Everyone is trying, everyone is succeeding, except Peter. Peter goes backwards. The more Harley has the opportunity to meet him, the more he sees it livid with a profound and incalculable sadness and apathy. The more he looks at his face, the more he sees him die inside. He does not recognize in his eyes that light that Tony showed him in some pictures of him. He does not have the same carefree smile that he saw in those shots, kept with love, in simple wooden frames that they know at home. Harley met Peter the moment Peter stopped living and his biggest curiosity was that he could one day meet the person Tony introduced him to in his stories and not a mere shadow of himself.

Pepper smiles her grim smile; alone. "I see. The school always comes first, but Sunday is the commemoration lunch. You can't miss it, Peter!" She exclaims, and waits hopefully for a yes, which simply comes with a nod, then Peter stands up and sighs. He wants to leave, and body language proves it for him. Harley knows that, if he were to ask him now, at this moment, how he is, Peter would answer - lying in front of those obvious signs of discomfort - that he's okay. Never been better. I 'm very good. A fairy tale.

Harley gets up. He sighs too and Morgan looks at them. He puts down a stuffed horse she was playing with and pouts. She hates to see them leave - she told them once - and, although he would seriously like to stay, Harley knows he needs to talk to Peter and ask him to be transparent, because he wants to hear him admit that no, he's not good. Not at all .

"Are you leaving?" Asks Morgan and, mechanically, both Harley and Peter lower their heads to meet her eyes and leave her a tender smile as an excuse for that escape.

"They can't stay here all day, Maguna. People also have commitments to respect,” rebuts Pepper and Morgan snorts and rolls her eyes. The best representation of Tony that Harley has ever seen in his life. He laughs over it, while Peter darkens.

"We'll be back soon," he promises and nods to sound more convincing, while the other imitates him and then hurries to retrieve his jacket and backpack from above the sofa. Peter always seems claustrophobic, when he's in there, and maybe he really is. Perhaps he has all the reasons.

"Miss Potts, I ..."

"I know, Peter. I know ... and don't worry. You already do so much for us and I admit that I would like to have you here every minute of my time, I cannot hold you by force. Rather, don't worry about me, you two. Send me the usual message, when you will be at home,” she smiles, and indicates both with her index, motherly. Harley winks at her and, together with Peter, reaches the exit door. As soon as it opens it finds the darkness that welcomes them. Winter has shortened the days and, despite being just six in the afternoon, it seems as if the night is one step away from them. It is terribly cold; Harley closes in the coat and scarf and, shivering, joins an absorbed Peter, who as always does not break the peace but enriches it with a chaos made of silence and solitude. Something that belong to both of them. The one that just can't let them find a meeting point. What Harley has been looking for for some time and that Peter doesn't allow him to find. Too closed in his world and open to the universe of some unreal fantasy. Perhaps where Tony Stark is still alive and gives him the love he seeks, which he has had and which he will never be able to get back. It must be terrible. It must be painful. It must be incalculable, and Harley cannot understand a bit of what he feels even if he would like.

"So. You have an exam, tomorrow", try to be confident. Peter nods and gives him only a side glance, which for a moment is stained by an awareness that immediately abandons him.

"Yup."

"Important? Staggering stuff? "

"Physics and chemistry."

"Aren't you the one who excels fearfully in all scientific subjects? It should be a walk, isn't it? "

"Who told you that?"

Harley shrugs, and only halfway through the sentence does he realize the indecent mistake he's making. "Tony," he says and if he hit him with a gun shot, he would have certainly hurt him less. "I'm sorry," try to fix it, lapidary, but Peter is already elsewhere. He stopped, he closed his eyes, and stared at him as if he were a heartless monster; throws him all the impatience he has inside, then closes his eyes with pain and starts walking again, clutching the backpack straps between his fingers. He's running away. He escapes from his ghosts, even when they are just named. He escapes from reality, from fiction and from the past but, above all, Peter escapes from life because he doesn't want it to come back to give him something to believe in. He read all this in a single fleeting glance, full of terror and anger but also of an infinite one, depressing and unjust apathy. He tried something for a moment, then nothing again. Tony Stark died and took away even Peter's soul and heart. Or rather, Peter let him do it, burying his entire consciousness with him and nullifying himself.

"Peter! Here we go! Wait!" He runs after him and Peter accelerates his walk. They've already addressed that topic and don't want to go back, Harley knows. Peter can't bear that, in those five years, Tony has talked about him to other people, eager to hug him and get him back, and then die in front of him soon after, without giving him the chance to tell him anything. Nothing at all. Not even a stupid but meaningful thank you. He didn't tell him all these things, but to Harley it was enough to identify himself with a second in a boy in love who loses the love of his life under his nose, without being able to do anything to save him.

"It's not your fault. You know ... you don't ... you're not the problem," Peter tells him and doesn't stop. Again he is justifying the actions of others; again he takes on weights he should not bear, which are not his. Peter feels responsible for the loss of Tony and the consequences it has brought. Peter feels the world against, because if he only found a way to stop Thanos - to defend that glove, Tony would still be there with them. With all of them, and instead the world is safe, but without its best guardian. The best man.

Harley knows, because it's Pepper who told him.

"It's nobody's fault, neither mine, nor yours. It was not intentional and I did not believe that the subject was still taboo. His name had not been released for months. "

"Okay so, really. It will pass me ”, he tries to reassure him and makes him angry that Harley never believed he could ever try, in his life. He would like to punch him and make him react, but it hurts so bad to see him so poised between life and death, that the only thing he can do is try to stop him by taking his arm, without any success.

"Peter, please, stop!" He says, frustrated. He snorts, annoyed, overcome by that intolerance that the other is throwing at him with a charge so crushing, that it is almost difficult to bear on his shoulders. "You need help, and it's obvious! I'm just trying to be useful for something. "

Peter then stops. He gives him his back for a few seconds; a time that in Harley seems a mix between eternity and an instant. When he turns around, he gives him the coldest expression in the world. So devoid of positive feelings, that is almost scary. It's almost more sad. "Useful?" Peter begins, then looks away, "Who are you, to claim to be able to help me?"

"I am nobody and I have no claim. Mine is an attempt to give you a hand. "

Peter tightens his jaw and still doesn't look at him, then opens his mouth, closes it again and opens it again. "I'm not holding any weight. I'm trying to assimilate what happened, like all of you. Why do you all think I'm not succeeding? "

"Because that's it, Peter! You're not succeeding! And pretending to make us - to make me believe that it is so, is ridiculous." The truth slams on him; he takes a step toward him and points a finger at him. Peter takes a step back and swallows air, exposed. Unmasked. Harley feels something press between his heart and lungs.

"You don't know me. You can't know. You know nothing. You don't know anything, Harley," Peter replies, with an almost unreal calm that tries to conceal unfounded accusations and Harley would like to laugh, in front of that sentence.

It lets out a bitter smile. "As if I needed to know you, to know how you feel. You are an open book. Your eyes speak for you. They did it from the first moment we met that day at the funeral! "

"Why? Why the more I don't want to talk about him, the more you expect me to do it? I just want you not to talk about it, to avoid the topic! Why is it so difficult to understand?" Says Peter, his eyes narrowed to hold back the pain and the desire to run away far away but that, his boundless sense of justice, does not allow him to do.

"It's not difficult to understand, but to accept! It's not the way to deal with it, what you're adopting. You're delaying something you should fight, don't bury it under layers, on layers of sand! ”Silence falls, after that rumble of words that Harley let slip with a deep and inadmissible arrogance. He doesn't know who Peter is; not the real one, at least. Not the one Tony talked about so much about, when their meetings became more frequent, after the disappearances had left a gap too big to fill. Peter, Peter, Peter, yes, he always spoke only of him. Sometimes it was almost frustrating.

"I know. I know what I'm doing, I know it's deleterious, I know I'm not fighting the pain but I can't and neither you or anyone else can change that. I'm not even trying, because I don't want to try. I don't want to get over it. I don't want to get better. I just want to be left in peace and I would like you to respect my will, avoiding talking about what happened and what is better for me. You do not know. You don't know it, and you can't know it. I am sorry to disappoint you, but it is so", Peter replies, closes his mouth and seems not to have said everything, but does not continue. He sighs, and waits. He waits for something that Harley won't tell him, because in all sincerity, he doesn't know what to say. Or rather, he knows that everything, every attempt to get closer, will inexorably take him even further.

Harley doesn't know why he took Peter's emotional state to heart. He doesn't know him so well, and it's true, but maybe it was Tony's stories that distorted reality and put that worm in his head. He has in front of him a person too corroded by pain, that he has lost his way, and perhaps Harley is only disappointed because he did not face those who thought he was, even if he doubts that this is the real reason.

"All right." Try condescending. He nods and then sighs, running a hand through his hair, then closes himself in his coat. "Yes, okay. You're right ", he continues and Peter raises an eyebrow, perhaps because he didn't expect that. Perhaps because, part of his heart, he hoped that Harley could fight more, that battle against his demons. "I leave you alone, I promise."

"Harley ..."

"I'm serious, Peter. I can't know what you're going through. It's not the same for me. And, if you really needed help, you certainly wouldn't want it from someone you barely know. I'm guilty of arrogance, and that's not what I want, so I'm sorry," he says. He leaves him a smile of circumstance and then surpasses him, convinced that supporting him is an infinitely dangerous double-edged sword, but it is the only one he has. The only one that comes to mind to use. He starts off on his own, towards the bus stop. Peter is still motionless behind him. He feels his eyes on him. Something has broken or perhaps it has healed. Harley hopes so with all of himself. He does not turn around, he continues to walk, hoping to go home and find a message of his, of any kind, that tells him that he needs help and that he would like it from him. He is a visionary, if he thinks of such a thing, but wants to cling to something, to a hope, although he doesn't know yet why Peter is so dear to him. Maybe it's just empathy, or maybe he just wants to help him react, because he knows that's what Tony would like.

"Harley," Peter repeats, and joins him.

"What's up? I'm leaving you in peace! ”, He replies, but he can't hold back a smile that lights up his heart, when Peter gives him an awkward one, but he immediately loses himself in the dark shadow of Tony Stark. The one that weighs on him.

Peter shrugs his shoulders. "I know, but let's take the same bus, what's the point of dividing?", It justifies itself, and it seems as if something has moved; that something has overturned for a moment that delicate situation, ready to break with just a damn fake misstep. And yet that shadow is always there, weighing on them. Like a wall that divides them, inexorably, strengthening each time they manage to take a step, towards each other. It's Tony; it's his memory, Harley knows. Because, in spite of everything, to think of Peter as the boy whose Iron-Man spoke to him, always made him believe that something could unite them and that, for some reason, he was convinced that, in that boy, he would surely find a friend . Instead, Tony brought them together and he always he is doing everything to divide them and this Harley is almost unable to forgive him. The paradoxical thing is that he doesn't even know why.

They end up being silent, on that bus, while the journey home is too long, accompanied by that silence. Yet something has changed, and Harley does not know if he has inexorably broken something or has begun to heal it, in that dry heart that Peter Parker carries in his chest and that, with a little hope, has never really stopped beating.

#keenker #parkner #parley #starker #fanfiction #slash #ironman #spiderman #harley keener #peter parker #tony stark #endgame #avengers #myfic #sorry english is not my first language

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tanadrin · 5 years ago

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Reordberend

(part 20 of ?; first; previous; next)

The entire process of breaking down the shattered machine took three days. Katherine was impressed with the methodical approach the salvagers took. Under Andrac’s direction, everything was sorted: useful metal here, pieces too big to transport for now over there, tools in another pile, parts of tools in another. Using rope they had brought, and cables from the salvage, they began lashing together sleds from some of the spars, which they would have to drag over the rough slopes of the mountain pass, until they came to flat ground--it meant a lot of labor in the short term, but once they were back on the ice, it would mean they could bring back far more salvage than merely what could be carried on their backs. Though they would load up their packs and bags, too. The return journey would be considerably slower, but the reward for all this work, Eadwig said, was a bounty that would last them for many years. The most precious thing they found were the solar panels and some self-contained energy cells that still had considerable charge. The nuclear power plant was too heavy and too dangerous to remove--apparently some salvagers had tried that once, on a different beast, and poisoned their whole village. But the energy cells could be safely distributed among the different valleys, to power essential things like forges and the underground moss farms. At least for a little while, life in the Valleys would be somewhat easier, the threat of some sudden disaster a little more distant.

Katherine supposed that this was, in a way, what all human life had been like until not too long ago--you were one bad growing season, one bad drought or some other natural disaster away from ruin. To say nothing of more human disasters: war or tyrants or some plague brought by traders from a distant land. It was hard for her to believe that the ancestors of the People had really understood what they were signing up for. Who would intentionally condemn their children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren to a life of difficult labor and privation, even in the name of lofty ideals? But if any of the Dry Valleys People resented their ancestors’ choice, or thought it had been unwise, they didn’t show it. This was simply, for them, the Way Things Were, and there was a safety in that. The eternal, conservative urge of the human heart--and of societies schooled by scarcity--that says, we’ve got a tolerable thing going here. Let’s not upset the apple cart. It was a sentiment Katherine hardly shared, though she could appreciate the place it came from.

When they had finished with the first dragon, Andrac, Katherine, and a few others went to inspect the second. It was deeply buried; only part of its flank stuck out from beneath the ice and rubble that covered it, though the part that they could see didn’t look to be too badly damaged. A furious debate between Andrac and the others ensued, about whether they should attempt to salvage anything from this one, too. The party seemed to be of two minds: it would be dangerous, if the ground proved unstable or the repair and defense systems were still active. On the other hand, the reward was potentially greater. Even in the dry Antarctic air, which preserved much, wind and weather had rendered some of the most sensitive tools on the other platform useless. If this one had been buried not too long after it had ceased to function, it was possible it would yield even more valuable salvage.

“What do you think, Outlander?” Beonna asked.

Katherine was startled by the question. “Does it matter what I think?” she said.

“Sure it does. You’re in this same as us.”

Katherine shrugged. “I don’t know if it would be worth it or not, but even if it is, I don’t think we’re getting in to this one anytime soon. None of the hatches are exposed. There’s no interface for me to try like there was on the other one. You might be able to cut through the side there--but I don’t know how far you’d get.”

“It’s true,” Andrac said. “We can always mark the spot--come back later, with more men and tools.”

Beonna seemed to agree, and the decision was made. The haul they had was enough for the time being. The others went back to help load the sleds, but Katherine lingered for a little while, exploring the back of the great beast.

Dragon, dragon, she thought. From the Latin word, if she remembered correctly. When she was a kid she had been fascinated by old words, the way they reached out of the past and seemed to carry immense secrets within them. She had thought, when she was a teenager, that maybe languages or history would have been the thing to study--but there was nothing in that anymore, her teachers had told her. You had cybernetics and modules now. You didn’t have to spend years of your life in school, and years more of immersion in a foreign country to learn to communicate with people. The old grief of Babel had been reversed, and whether that was a good thing or a bad thing depended on who you asked, but it meant that the study of languages was as dead as the Romans. With it, too, had gone the study of ancient languages. Oh, sure, there might be modules out there for Latin or Greek, the really popular ones. But the world was no longer very much interested in the minutiae of its own history. It contended itself with the outlines. And it surely had no space for scholars to sit in dim offices in the corner of some university humanities department, poring over the work of long-dead philologists. Go into the sciences. Learn something useful! her teachers had told her. Well, maybe she hadn’t done exactly that. But she was still a scientist of a kind.

Something caught Katherine’s eye--a hatch or a compartment, a small one, just by her feet. She squatted down, and carefully pried the outer cover off, then popped off the access panel. Inside was a mess of electronic components. She poked around for a little bit, but she couldn’t make heads or tails, and there was no terminal or anything here. Something was still functioning inside this thing--there were a couple of indicator lights slowly blinking--but none of these seemed to be critical components. She poked around a bit more, then found something of interest.

It was a little black cylinder, about the size of her palm, with big block letters on it that said BACKUP DATA RECORDER - DO NOT REMOVE. Naturally, she removed it. She held it up; on the other side, it said PROPERTY OF ANTECO MINING INC - IF FOUND PLEASE RETURN - REWARD OFFERED. Some kind of retrievable storage? The equivalent of an airplane’s black box, maybe. It was a curious object, anyway, and Katherine liked curious. She slipped it into a pocket.

Underneath, in the spot where it had been seated, there was something that shined beautifully. Katherine reached in and pulled, and it came free--what looked to all the world like a dazzling, clear gemstone, set in silver. It was clearly some kind of electronic component, but despite its mundane nature, it looked like something out of a fairy tale. Perhaps she would find someone back in the Valleys who would enjoy something like this. That, too, she stuck in her pocket.

“Hey, Outlander!” someone called out. She stood and turned around; it was Andrac. “We’re almost ready to go.”

“Coming!” Katherine shouted back. She stumbled her way back down the side of the platform, and jogged over to help the others finish packing.

* * *

The first day of the return journey was brutal--a lot of pulling sleds up steep slopes, a lot of almost losing her footing and sprawling onto the stony ground, and a lot of cussing (on her part) and shouting (on others’). Mostly words of encouragement, but also some words Leofe definitely had not taught her. It took the whole expedition to get the heaviest sleds up the top of the ridge, and they could only be brought down the mountainside a couple at a time. If they lost control of one, it was likely to go careening down a slope or over a boulder--crash, bang, a god-awful mess, and, in the darkness, probably no way to recover the lost cargo. So they went slowly and carefully. But once they were on the ice again, they moved much more quickly. They all took turns helping to pull the sleds, even Katherine, though she didn’t feel like she was contributing much. Her time in Antarctica had definitely toughened her up a bit--she had muscles now in places she didn’t know you could have them before--but she still felt a little like the expedition mascot.

They didn’t head back to Leofe’s village--High Settlement, the one Katherine thought of as her home base--since that was pretty far up the Middle Valley. Instead, they made for one of the smaller outlying villages, which was barely more than a few cottages, less than half a kilometer from the edge of the glacier. They left the sleds below and staggered up the hill to the nearest house; despite the fact that nearly twenty exhausted, hungry people had just showed up, the villagers seemed happy enough to see them. They were even happier when they learned they had just come back from a salvage expedition. They began talking with the salvagers excitedly, then a few of them rushed off to their own houses.

“What’s that all about?” Katherine asked Andrac.

“They’re going to get ready.”

“Get ready for what?”

“To send word to the other villages. To bring more here. To help distribute the salvage. What, you didn’t think we were going to go around to every village ourselves, did you?”

“Well, I certainly wasn’t going to.”

Andrac laughed. “No, people will come here to get the things they need.”

“Who decides how everything is distributed?”

Andrac looked confused. “People will take what they need.”

“What if more than one person needs the same thing?”

“They’ll figure something out. Or they’ll share. Do they not having sharing where you come from?”

“Is there some kind of system of barter? Or trade? Money?”

“Money? Why would we need money?”

“Uhh--” Katherine didn’t know the word for ‘economics’ in the Dry Valleys tongue. “Your system, your system of, ah, distributing scarce resources. Some societies use money. Some exchange favors and gifts. Some rely on, er, relationships of kindred and friendship. I am curious about your people. What they use.”

Andrac raised an eyebrow. “We talk to each other. We make sure everybody has the things they need.”

Katherine suspected he was being deliberately unhelpful, but she didn’t press the question. Instead she thanked the villager who handed her a bowl of something hot and meaty, and settled herself down by the fire to rest. Every muscle in her body ached; she hoped they weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Within six hours, the first people from other villages began to arrive. Katherine watched as they did; everyone went up to Andrac and Eadwig first, greeting them by name, complimenting them on the success of their expedition. There was a little ritual to it, even if it wasn’t a formal one. Only then did they go down to inspect the haul, looking over it all very carefully, talking to the salvagers about what they’d found. When they came back, they made pleasant small talk about the journey, the weather, how each other’s relatives were doing--but they did not discuss the salvage itself, and this surprised Katherine a little. When one of the men sat down near her, she spoke to him.

“I have a question,” she said.

“You’re the outlander, aren’t you?”

“My name is Katherine.”

“Mine is Gar.”

“So what do you want from the salvage, Gar?”

Gar shifted in his seat uneasily.

“This and that,” he said. “Some of it could be very useful.”

“Like what?”

Gar looked uncomfortable, and Katherine wondered why. Andrac, noticing from across the room, came over and cut in.

“Now’s not the time to discuss that sort of thing,” he said. “We’ll all talk about it once everyone is here.”

Ah, thought Katherine. Maybe they want to give everybody a look first. No dibs, no deals worked out beforehand.

Over the next two days, as more people arrived, her suspicions were confirmed. The same pattern held; and only when there were men and women from just about every village in the Dry Valleys present, did they all gather in the largest house in the village; and then a great discussion began. It was like the longest, most agonizing committee meeting of any bureaucracy anywhere. First, every single item salvaged, from the smallest piece of metal to the most sophisticated laser cutter, was enumerated. Then, starting all over again, they went through every piece in order, and talked about who had a use for what. Then the competing claims had to be worked out.

There seemed to be a rough logic to this part. First, anybody who had claimed too much was pressured to pick only the things he or she really needed. Oh, Eadgifu, you don’t need the wrench, and the three loops of cable, and the plastic sheeting, do you? That’s quite a lot, don’t you think? All Thorgar here needs is a little of the plastic, surely you can give that up? And where there was really steep competition, for things like the laser drills, the expedition leaders got called in to mediate. Here, Andrac, what do you think? Eadwig, weren’t you saying the other day that our village really needs one of those? And whenever the bargaining got a little too heated--what do you mean, you need all that metal? Hasn’t your village taken more than enough already?--someone would step in, always a scrupulously neutral party, and say, wait, I’ve got something I need, shut up for a second and we’ll come back to you.

It was tedious in the extreme, but there was a ballet to it: nobody’s feelings were hurt, everybody’s opinion was taken into consideration, and everybody was set to go home with something. A few of the really big ticket items--the power cells were one--were divided up according to preexisting rules. Nobody got to claim those. But anything else, anyone in the room was entitled to make a claim on. And a particular phrase was repeated more than once--everything’s up for grabs. Nothing is to be held back.

Only as this process was winding up did Katherine think of the two little objects she held in her pocket; she had been fingering them absentmindedly, turning them over out of sight, when she realized one might very well consider them part of the salvage, too. And might consider that at least one of them might have non-trivial value. She began to worry more, as she saw the intense discussion over the last few items, which very nearly broke out into an actual argument more than once.

“Hey, hey. Enough!” Andrac finally said. “We’ll all sleep on it, okay? No use in getting mad, there’s enough to go around. Here, shake his hand, Alfstan.” He pushed one surly-looking man toward another. They shook, and the room relaxed a little; after that people began filing out, heading over to the other houses or to tents they’d brought along. “Back here in the morning!” Andrac called out. “Eadwig and I are heading home after breakfast. So let’s get the last of the business done early!”

Katherine had been watching this from the back of the room; she slipped through the thick knot of people over to Andrac, and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Can I talk to you? Outside?”

“Sure, outlander.”

She took him around the side of the house to a quiet spot.

“I have a question about the salvage.”

“Go ahead.”

“If someone held something back from the salvage, what would happen? How would people react?”

“I don’t know. Nobody would do that.”

“Nobody?”

“It would be… strange. Selfish. Really wrong. I’ve never heard of it happening.”

“Is there a law against it?”

“There doesn’t need to be. It just wouldn’t happen. Why? You’re not accusing somebody of something, are you?”

“No, not at all. I was just curious. You know me. Nosy outlander.”

“Hm.” Andrac didn’t seem convinced by this. “You sure everything is all right?”

Katherine winced. “I’m sorry. It was me.”

“What?”

“I took something. Just before we left. I didn’t think about it until just now. It didn’t seem important. But I think I violated one of your customs by accident. I didn’t mean to cause offense.”

She took the data module and the jewel out of her pocket, and held them out to Andrac.

“You should take them. Tell the others--I don’t know, tell them you found them in one of the sleds or something. Or tell them I didn’t know your rules, and I didn’t mean to steal.”

Andrac took the objects from her, and turned them over in his hand.

“They say a thief brings a great curse down on themselves when they steal,” he said. He tapped the data module with one finger. Then he handed both objects back to Katherine. “But you’re right. You didn’t know. You’re not a thief, just a stranger to our ways.”

“You should still take them.”

“We don’t buy and sell among ourselves--but we’re familiar with the concept. Consider these your payment for your help. Honestly, I don’t think anybody here has a use for these trinkets. If for some reason someone does give you trouble about them, just tell them to speak to me.”

“You think it’s really okay?”

Andrac nodded seriously. “Yes. It would be different if you had not spoken to me--but you have shown understanding and sympathy to our customs. I respect that.”

“Thanks.”

“Now go get some rest, Katherine. We’re heading home early tomorrow.”

#tanadrin's fiction

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ravenquote · 5 years ago

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OoC: Favorite Characters

I decided to focus on villains or anti-heroes, it’s hard picking just favorites in a general sense.

1. Harleen Quinzel A.K.A Harley Quin - DC Comic Universe I have been in love with this woman since September 1992 when she first aired in the Batman Animated series, Joker’s favor. Due to her brilliant creators of Paul Dini and Bruce Tim, led with the voice talents of Arleen Sorkin. She was born from her own raw desire to help people in her own best way possible, using her talents of understanding, reading and in many sense controlling people. Sadly, like Alice in wonderland, she fell into a realm of madness and uncertainty. She has been one of the most complex characters in animated history with large backstory and many turns and takes. Extremely popular on various forms and has made many appearances over the years even scoring some of her own comics and shows and now movies. When she was first created, she was merely a fill in and not meant to take and yet here she stands, a triumphant beauty whose overcome Abuse, trauma and degradation.

2. Azula - Avatar the last air bender animated television show + comics What can i say about Azula? In many retrospects she’s fierce, powerful, driven and just intelligent! I think a lot of people forget something pretty important about her: SHE WAS FOURTEEN! This young teenage, overthrew governments, taking whole cities and was the closest to killing the Avatar compared to anyone else. Not to mention her pure intelligence! People compare to playing a game of chess when it comes to moving people or controlling their actions. No, to this woman it was checkers. I truly believe if she didn’t become as over-confident as she did, the war would have ended with her taking the world. With the right nurturing, she would have become the most feared overlord the world would ever see.

3. Loghain Mac Tir - Dragon age book (The Stolen Throne by: David Gaider) and Dragon age Origins the Video game. Yeah, there’s a theme so far i am guessing you are seeing. I can’t help but appreciate sheer intelligence. Loghain is sort of obvious in the video games, it’s clear his intents. At the same time, there is far far more than what is merely on the surface with this man. An obvious villain, almost to the point of it being boring. Yet, why in the games are so many people hesitant and trusting of him? This man had proved himself, over and over, that he had his country in his heart and would do anything to protect it and keep it from the true monsters of the world. People. He was never shy about the routes he’d take, the lengths he’d go, he was brass, courageous, and deceptive. He called things out, forced people to seeing the bigger picture, he didn’t need to control or lie to people about things. He got what he wanted in the most unique ways possible, not his title, not his money, not his charisma but by being true in what had to be done.

4. Sylvanas Windrunner - Blizzard Entertainment Video games I don’t see her as a Villain, an Anti-hero, yes. Look, we all know Blizz can’t seem to understand women or know how to write them on a large scale. I seriously feel bad for both, Piera Coppola and Patty Mattson as they have to watch this poor woman get brutally torn to pieces. I will always, always have a soft spot for her and remember the days where in many respects was like Illidain, and (above) Loghain. A woman who saw the bigger picture and would sacrifice anything to save everything she cared for. I wont drag on for her, simply because i know the most people who are doing this and following are from the Blizzard franchise and i know we have all heard many many layers to this continued argument about this particular character. If ya wanna PM about it or rant at me, bring it. I’m an Alliance player at heart, but i only got into w.o.w because of this woman. Both sides are shit. *drops mic*

5. Aaravos - Dragon Prince, Netflix television animated show. Okay, seriously, if you haven’t seen the show yet: DO IT! Just as with this theme, INTELLIGENCE, INTELLIGENCE, INTELLIGENCE! Tactful, charming, knowledgeable, i mean...look at that face! He is hands down perfect. Sadly, we still know very little of him but goshdamnit! Love! Love! Love! I can not wait to know more of him and see more of him.

6. Maleficent - Fairy Tale story / Disney The jist of her, from stories and movies, is general: She was snubbed or insulted by the royal court and took her revenge on the child they were all celebrating. I’m sorry, but this has always been fantastic to me. What is more painful and hard to deal with then your own child being cursed? Claim petty if you want, but no, oh no my dear friend, this is a brilliant revenge. A normal person would blame the man in charge and curse him, but meh, whatever. Kings wont remember how they snubbed others, this is proven time and time again in many stories. Will this act ever be forgotten? Will the generations always remember not to snub a powerful faerie? You better believe it! She made a ever lasting mark, an impression that has lasted since the 13th century! Throughout the years no one has changed these facts: Maleficent was powerful, she was disrespected and she took her revenge onto a child. Normal stories like these over the years have changed both villains and heroes, or even circumstances. This classic has even seen the beautiful creation, directed by Robert Stromberg from a screenplay by Linda Woolverton, and still they honour the root of what was and with a focus on the villain and her origins. How many villains get this?

7. Narberal Gamma - Overlord Anime/ Manga series Who doesn’t love a maid? Not to mention a Battle maid. Narberal is...mm, i don’t even know how to express her. She’s just generally cool, powerful, intelligent, loyal and honest with everything around her, just a demeanor of a refined perfection. She’s enjoyable to watch. Another thing i enjoy, she’s not the main villain. The show itself has many “villains”, i say in such way because it’s never really clear or obvious what you can count as villain or hero in a lot of ways. Yes, some are obvious but even then in many cases showed within it’s all about circumstances, who you are following, why you are following them. I enjoy the not so cut and dry of “good and evil”. This character also helps continue that ploy, helping and yet also killing people.

8. Carmilla - Castlevania Netflix series I’m a huge vampire fan, been so since middle school. I’m not as quick whipped as i use to be about the lore, history and so on when it comes to many Vampires and their origins. With such said, damn she made me bring out the books again, especially because she was one of my favorites to read about. I mean, Lesbian vampire. Do i need to say more? For now, i’ll only focus on the more recent adaption of her. So, yeah theme? We get it, intelligence. The world truly is a chess board for her, however she does not expect people to just flip the board on her. God, Jaime Murray, thank you so much for that wtf moment cause you expressed her sheer just horror at watching everything fall around her with perfection. Throughout the points we see Carmilla we see her truly be the tact master, stirring the pot and also showing her prowess in form. There is also a lot of restraint i don’t think people will give her credit for. We see how she expresses her emotions in violence, but i also think we are seeing it in a very, very pulled back way. I look forward to seeing how she changes her circumstances and sets things back into her own order in the coming season.

9. Akasha - Book series: The Queen of the Damned by Anne rice and movie: The Queen of the damned. Ah yes, the books that helped start the joys of vampires and how could i not fall in love with someone toying into the very beginning and trying to draw into the beginnings of a creature known throughout the world and time. Why do i choose Akasha considering i already touched base on vampires? Simple, she will always deserve a spot on any favorite list of anything. She gave so little cares about anything and only wanted the world to die and feel her wrath. Not to mention Aaliyah played this part so beautifully well it deserves every recognition it can get. I know she doesn’t seem to quite fit with the rest, but this is partly why she is so low on the list.

10. Callisto - Xena television series Last but certainly not least, we can’t forgot about this one. Good? Bad? Surely just pure chaos! She does what she wants and cares little about the consequences. It’s been ages since i’ve last seen the show i will admit, so my bases on her is a bit rusty. However, i will always remember her out of the many other villainous people we meet in the Xena universe. Fun, witty, combatant, you never knew what she was really going to do. As soon as she popped into a episode, i would recall fondly sitting at the edge of my seat just wondering how or why she did the things she did. There is my list of favorites, i’m sure you can see the themes between them all as many of them have common traits, inspirations and personalities. Hope you all enjoyed! Tagged by: @olivia-lovecraft tagging: *boops* you!

#ooc #top favorite #top ten #villains #t.v. series #books #fairy tales #video games #history #vampires #comics

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nicole-goddessofloki · 5 years ago

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Review/blog Aladdin

(Perhaps I will add this on my blog as well) - Nicole (@Goddess_of_Loki)

Aladdin: The story of the street thief set in Disney's Agrabah, the City of Mysteries. You don't have to go to Paris or to Florida to experience the magical Disneyland. This year you will experience it in your own cinema! From a flying elephant to a flying carpet with The Lion King as cherry on top! If you are a Disney fan in heart and soul, you certainly should not skip Aladdin! Let yourself be guided by Aladdin's magic carpet and float with Aladdin, Jasmine & the naughty monkey Abu through the desert-like environments. When you talk about Aladdin, you probably immediately think of that magic lamp with the Genie who gives its finder 3 wishes. Dreaming is something we do every day. Everyone has them: the one big dreams, the other more modest dreams. Imagine: You can make 3 wishes. Whatever you want, anything is possible! What would you wish for? Or would you perhaps waste 2 of the 3 wishes right away? Because.. ‘Be careful what you wish for!’

Aladdin truly is a sensation for your eyes with among others the terrifying but impressive Cave of Wonders (with the voice of Frank Welker, who also provides the voice of this cat-shaped cave in the original version.) This Live Action version also comes with a number of brand new songs including 'Speechless' sung by Jasmine, the princess of Agrabah. It may seem as if she has everything her heart desires such as dresses of the finest silk fabrics, beautiful jewelry & a tiger as a pet! Anyway, she doesn't have to be afraid of thieves, sure they will stay outside (except for one of course!). However she doesn't have the one thing that‘ll make her the happiest: freedom. She can't even show herself outside, let alone be heard! That of course the sly Jafar will make clear to her father! "Speechless" together with the famous "A Whole New World" perhaps is one of the strongest songs in the film. It certainly left a big impression on me! With her golden voice, Naomi Scott sets a strong character and proves that Jasmine is much more than just a princess!

When Disney just dropped the trailer, I came across of all sorts of statements about the Genie, which looks like a strange blue CGI version from his performer Will Smith. For example, some people would have liked to see Jim Carrey as the Genie. (That might just work in an animation version, but definitely not in this Live Action version.) Other people had doubts about whether Smith was the right actor to take on this role, and it appears that he himself had those doubts first too. Because let's be honest: Robin Williams (died in 2014) is hard to peer with and also that, you shouldn't want either. This is the Live Action version and of course that‘s a challenge. But I don‘t think Will Smith is one who throws in the towel easily. With being himself and having a lot of enthusiasm he managed to create his own version of the Genie. Will Smith calls it a bit of "The Prince of Bel-Air", a pinch of "Men in Black" and a touch of "Bad Boys" (interview with Veronica Magazine). This Genie, blue or not, comes with a lot of humor in his mission to turn the bit inexperienced Aladdin (Mena Massoud) into a real prince!

As it comes to Disney movies I‘m always a little curious for the villain. In Aladdin that‘s of course Jafar: The villain with the scary narrow head, his serpent staff and his always faithful parrot Iago on his shoulder. In this Live Action version, Jafar is portrayed by the Dutch Marwan Kenzari, who was featured in "The Mummy" in 2017. I am always in for some facts and I find it interesting that Oded Fehr, actor from the earlier Universal 'The Mummy' films, portrayed Jafar in the well-known fairy tale series "Once Upon a Time". Although honest, the animated Jafar gave me some more shivers, Kenzari turns out to be a very convincing Jafar and he gives the villain some extra handsome-ness! I believe both Jafar and Iago, the writers could have given some more depth. I wonder what I shall think of Scar‘s Live Action version..

Disney has once again transformed one of its classics into a spectacular magical Live Action adventure! Did you know that in a number of countries it‘s a tradition in the cinema to clap after the end of a movie? Well, for me the temptation rather was big! Whether you like fairy tales, want to relive your childhood memories or just want to dream away in this fantasy world, Aladdin is a film for all age!

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darkpoisonouslove · 5 years ago

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For the send title Griffin Heat of the moment Long live the queen Three of my fav one shots! Took some thinking to narrow it down!

I am so sorry this took so long, but life got in the way. I had a terrible night on Saturday and really wasn’t in the state of mind to write this yesterday. Also, tumblr ate my response the other day and I’m still mad about it. So it’s been a fun couple of days. Here’s to hoping this answer will cheer us both up!

“Griffin”:

1. I wrote this when I was on vacation but it took me a while to edit it before I could post it. It was a spontaneous idea that I was so excited to start writing that I stayed up late for it (pretty sure I went to bed at, like, 3:30am because of this).

2. As I’ve mentioned before, it was inspired by “I Fell in Love with the Devil” by Avril Lavigne (damn, I love the song and the video) and my own thought process while I was listening to it. My brain just went “Hey, how cool do you think it will be if Griffin tried to summon the devil aka Valtor and then fell in love with him but it had a tragic ending bc it’s them obvs?” And I went “Yeah, I think that would be pretty cool.” So I just went with it but since I wanted it to keep the winx-verse feeling even despite it being an AU, I decided that Valtor would be known as the all-powerful Dark Dragon which is sort of an equivalent to the devil but not quite. He has all the knowledge on magic and is prone to wrecking havoc everywhere he goes, but minus the ruling hell thing. He’s not ruling anything, he was trapped. Because we needed a summoning ritual in this. Who doesn’t love summoning rituals?

3. Speaking of which, I don’t know how I made those up, but I’m really glad I did. The obsidian idea just came to me but when I did some research, what do you know? It was perfect. And I also managed to tie it in with the Obsidian dimension. I love doing AUs because it gives me so many opportunities to play around with canon details and put them in a new perspective and mold them until they fit this new universe I’ve come up with. It’s my favorite part of writing AUs. The hair thing I know from my mom, a book I read (”A Discovery of Witches”, I think) and internet confirmed. And the tears I just thought would add to the aesthetic and provide some insight into Griffin’s head.

4. I chose the title “Griffin” because this fic mainly deals with the essence of Griffin, with what makes her who she is. Also, I did some research on griffins and they are supposed to be protectors so that also fit in super nicely. I am very proud with the version of Griffin I’ve built in this fic. There is so much anger and desperation in her but that in no way changes the fact that she is actually a good person. Which is why this: “She was strong enough to be a protector. Even with her pain. Even with her rage. Even with her darkness.” is my favorite quote from the fic. I was in a dark place at the time I wrote this and it was important for me to remember that.

5. I also love how Valtor turned out in this fic. He’s mysterious and clearly dangerous but also alluring enough for Griffin to ignore the warning signs. And while it’s clear that he was using her, it isn’t clear what he feels about her. He does feel about her. Maybe not love but he certainly feels a lot about her. She was the only one who managed to summon him (aka rescue him) from Omega so he is intrigued by her powers as well as by the interaction of light and dark within her soul. That is the reason why I have considered writing a companion piece to this fic that is from Valtor’s point of view (there certainly is enough unexplored material on that timeline (I only gave the beginning and ending (is it?) of that relationship)), but I’ve discarded the idea as many times as I have entertained it (until now?). I really have other more pressing things that need taking care of rn but I might reconsider it again when I have more time (will a moment like that ever come?) since I had some new thoughts about it now.

“Heat of the Moment”:

1. This was actually the third Winx Club fanfic I wrote but I posted it as the second one since chapter one of “Warmth of Rage, Cold of Love” wasn’t edited yet at the time.

2. It was actually written at the same day as “Fire and Ice” but it took me a lot of time to get it up on FFN because I didn’t want to post it at first. It was veering on smut so I wasn’t sure how people would react to it. Which is why it makes me so happy to hear that you love that story so much, considering all the doubts I had around it (it was also the first time I was writing about them in the past and we didn’t see anything of their interactions back then on the show so it was pretty much a shot in the dark there).

3. Do you know that amazing moment when you want to write something steamy but you’re not comfortable with smut in this particular situation for whatever reason? This fic is the embodiment of that. Which is why it ended up as dry humping. That’s always my go-to thing in a situation like that. Not actual sex, but you get all the intimacy of sex in it. It’s a win-win (and also hot).

4. I probably would’ve gotten discouraged and would’ve quit writing for the Winx fandom after I posted that one because it didn’t get any attention in weeks. The thing that actually kept me going and not just motivated, but excited me to keep writing for Winx was @her-majesty-wears-jeans‘ review.

5. The whole fic is constructed the way it is because I’m convinced that Valtor loved messing with Griffin in every way possible and that it always set off a competition of wills between the two of them.

“Long Live the Queen”:

1. I was bursting with creative energy and just didn’t know what to work on (not for a lack of ideas but because none of those I already had sparked my interest (I think I had idea-fatigue for all of the wips I already had). So I just picked song lyrics and wrote a fic. How do I do this? It certainly is a mystery to me.

2. So it was all total chance there. I was listening to music on YouTube and when the song ended, the suggestions showed up. One of them was a lyric video for Halsey’s “Young God” (which is totally their story in the past, I mean, come on!) and the thumbnail had the lyric “I’m the king and you’re the queen”. So I just took that and rolled with it.

3. I didn’t think it a big deal because I honestly wasn’t planning on posting the thing. I was frustrated with myself that day and was pretty sure that it wouldn’t be good anyway. And then what do you know? It was good. It was better than good. I actually loved the result. So I decided to post it after all.

4. That last paragraph was on the line until the last moment I posted it. I only added it on the last round of edits and wasn’t really sure about it. I almost deleted it a few times, but, ultimately, I decided to leave it be.

5. I had some random thoughts about what happened after Griffin took the crown. Since it will get so out of control with the length if I try to write this (and I really don’t have the time for that), I’ll just write them out here. In short because I forgot some details that were kind of important. Also, angst alert.

Griffin and Valtor start ruling Domino and Griffin’s worries prove to be true. Valtor is… well, not that he’s not listening to her but in a situation that needs improvisation, he always makes the wrong move. He’s listening to her, he’s just not listening to common sense. He’s angry and powerful and it’s not a good combination.

On top of that, Faragonda shows up at the Domino palace to look for Griffin because she is convinced that Valtor is mind-controlling her. Griffin barely manages to convince Valtor not to hurt Faragonda. He’s suspicious of her because he thinks she’s come to gather intel, but Griffin tells him that Faragonda is there because she’s worried about her.

They form a sort of flimsy truce that allows Faragonda to come visit Griffin so that she won’t be so lonely. And if she spills anything about Valtor and Griffin (not just about their plans, but in general) to anyone at all, Valtor will make sure she regrets it. Griffin is still unhappy, though, and after overhearing (whether accidentally or not so much) one of her conversations with Faragonda, Valtor understands how much the whole thing is weighing down on her conscience.

So after one last very tender night with her, he lets her go. He can’t run away with her because that will put her in danger since the Council will want his head. So he’ll stay on Domino and limit the destruction as much as possible, but he wants her to go with Faragonda. They can tell the Council that she was under his spell and that was why she was acting the way she was. They’ve seen enough of what his mark on people can do so that won’t be hard to believe. And it was Faragonda who saved her from it with some fairy dust.

Griffin doesn’t want to leave him, but she does because she can’t take any more of what he’s doing. Faragonda hides her in Alfea where a few weeks later Griffin finds out she’s pregnant. It turns out Faragonda knew all along (Valtor told her when he called her to escort Griffin to Alfea and gave her a letter for Griffin because he knew that if Griffin knew she was pregnant with his daughter, she would never leave his side). The letter tells her under no circumstances to tell anyone that the baby is his daughter. She is supposed to pretend that that is the heiress of Domino who was born just before Valtor attacked and that he’d been keeping her hibernated (which is why she hasn’t aged and is still a newborn) until they found her. It took them months to get her out of that state which would give Griffin the time to give birth to the baby. And the real heiress of Domino is stuck on Earth with her way back to the magical dimension severed by Valtor’s spell. And it will remain so as long as the Dark Dragon Fire is burning.

So Darcy grows in Alfea, pretending that she is a fairy her whole life. And her power of illusions helps her keep up the charade with Griffin and Faragonda guiding her through the discovery of her magic and helping her understand both light and dark magic so that she can pretend to be a fairy and learn how to control her actual powers. And a little bit of glamor helps hide the family resemblance between her and Griffin. She knows the truth about herself and her father but she keeps all of that hidden like her mother insists.

When she turns sixteen, Valtor appears to tell her she is to take the throne of Domino, defeat him and “claim her birthright”. He gives them a part of the embers the Ancestral Witches used to make him and tells them that that is the evidence of his defeat they are to present to the Council. And he will disappear for he can’t stay with them, no matter how much he wants to. It will put them both at risk if anyone discovers the ruse.

Griffin sees how much of his body mass is missing and follows him to learn what he’s done and where he found the ember. Valtor tells her that he cut off his wings in demon form and made them return to their original form. However, that also had consequences for his human form and he’s dying. He’s pretty sure what he did messed with his internal organs and he doesn’t have much more to live. But he doesn’t regret anything if it means that Darcy will finally be safe and happy. And once she builds her reputation and convinces everyone she’s not a threat, she’ll be able to drop the disguise.

Griffin knows that will never be the case. She’s seen clearly all these years to differ from him. They can never drop the pretense for the Council will be after them immediately. And with Valtor dying in her arms, she’s not sure if Darcy can protect herself. She’s never used the full potential of her Dragon Fire and Griffin fears it is too late for her to do it. She fears that having to pretend to be someone else her whole life has destroyed who Darcy actually was. And she fears that it is all her fault. Because she took that crown when she shouldn’t have. When she knew it was the wrong choice.

So after Valtor is dead, Griffin sets out to find out how to bring the actual heiress of Domino back to the magical dimension in hopes that if the two kinds of fire mix and both girls learn to control them, the Council will not hunt down her daughter. A perfect mix of light and darkness is her only exit. But can she be sure that she can achieve it now when she couldn’t years ago and that was what set off the whole chain of events?

So this was longer than I expected but I like how it turned out. Except for the insane levels of angst which I’m pretty sure we’re all used to, but that still doesn’t make them any less painful. Anyway, hope this makes up for the delay!

#ask #silverdragonstarlight #griffin #heat of the moment #long live the queen #griffin x valtor #winx darcy

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belphegor1982 · 5 years ago

Text

Okay, time to go into the meat of the plot, so to speak. And answer a few questions.

FAIRY TALES AND HOKUM

Summary: 1937: Two years after the events of Ahm Shere, the O’Connells are “required” by the British Government to bring the Diamond taken there from Egypt to England. In Cairo, while Evelyn deals with the negotiations and Rick waits for doom to strike again, Jonathan bumps into an old friend of his from university, Tom Ferguson. Things start to go awry when the Diamond is stolen from the Museum and old loyalties are tested…

Chapter 9: Venture (on AO3 here)

To say that dawn was Evelyn’s favourite moment of the day would not have been quite right. Back home in London, sunrise or the minutes preceding it was something like the calm before the storm, a welcome lull during which she would get some time to cast off the last remnants of sleep. It was also the first moment of the day that she spent together with her husband and son, and she had come to love the little routine that had gradually settled between them.

On weekdays, Evelyn usually got up first, and then was the first to go downstairs to the kitchen and pick up the bottles of milk outside the smallish kitchen door. Then Rick would join her and help her with toast while she sipped her tea and fixed his coffee and Alex’s, who, despite some grumpy mornings, was generally never very long to turn up for any meal. After breakfast, Rick would drop Alex at his school on his way to work, while on fair-weather days she’d take out her bicycle to ride to the British Museum.

But here… Egypt made everything different. The ‘Land of Living Sand’, as she remembered her mother’s usual expression, was a land of contrasts. The night was as cold as the day was hot in the desert. In the city, when the sun rose, seeing sunlight creeping down the white-washed house fronts was just as heartening as was the gradual sensation of heat slowly warming up the air around you and the ground beneath your feet. Everything changed, from the temperature to the colours, and all things seemed to come back to life in one fluid movement. Each morning a resurrection took place.

Such thoughts Evelyn welcomed as she walked along the streets of Cairo on this early Sunday morning. Even if it didn’t drive away her worries, it did wonders to abate her concern somewhat. She had missed the Egyptian sunrise. The little flat-roofed houses slowly regained their whitish colour, tinged with a yellow shade that gradually lightened as the sun rose higher in the sky.

Though the sensation of gradual warmth did not raise her spirits the way it would have done in other circumstances, she felt that it would probably have been worse had they been in London. After an entire night spent in research, building up theories and elaborate plans with Dr Hakim and Ardeth Bay, the three of them were still without a clue. It was not without difficulty that Evelyn had finally agreed with Ardeth and headed home to get some rest.

Alex had been sleeping for a while now already, and was still fast asleep now as Ardeth carried him home. Her boy had bravely held on until he finally dropped on Hakim’s couch at about five in the morning, exhausted. The break of dawn had been a sign that it was high time to leave and get some rest. Evelyn doubted she would fall asleep quickly, considering the impressive amount of mint tea she had downed throughout the night to keep herself awake, and Hakim made it quite strong. She had hesitated about waking Alex or not, till Ardeth had kindly suggested carrying him home himself. Evelyn had a feeling that the wish to see the two O’Connells home safe and sound had prompted the suggestion just as much as friendship.

Despite the rising cheer of the Egyptian dawn, and Ardeth’s quietly reassuring countenance, she felt tired, along with hungry, and not a little bit discouraged. Something of it must have been showing on her face, because as they turned round a corner not very far from her house, Ardeth looked at her with a funny expression in his black eyes. “Don’t be so disheartened, Evelyn. Even if we haven’t managed to get all the pieces together last night, we will find them.”

Evelyn let out a little laugh, low enough not to wake Alex. “You really are unpredictable, Ardeth. You weren’t nearly as optimistic last time we went to search for a missing member of the family.”

Ardeth’s sudden grin lit up his dark face. “I’m afraid it’s a habit we Medjai seem to have. Expect the worst, and doubly enjoy the best when it comes at last.”

Evelyn couldn’t help a grin, too. “I must admit that it sounds like a good philosophy. But tell me, then – what makes you so certain this time that we will find Rick and Jonathan?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I almost never rely on certainties. But I have faith in our stubbornness, as well as in the both of them. I now believe Rick to be able to more or less get out of any difficult situation, and for all his faults, your brother can prove remarkably resourceful as well.”

So understatements were not the prerogative of British people solely after all. Picturing what Jonathan’s expression would be if someone told him Ardeth had called him ‘resourceful’, Evelyn smiled as she picked up her keys from her pocket and opened the door.

The dark, silent house felt empty when she entered it with Ardeth slipping in behind her, quick and quiet as a shadow. Everything was just as she had left it when she had gone last evening to the British Consulate after her lengthy conversation with Satiah. Rick’s trilby was left untouched on the chest of drawers in the living room, and she had even forgotten to bring the tea tray back to the kitchen. The abandoned cups, milk jug, teapot and cold kettle made for an oddly lonely picture in the light of the small lamp she had just turned on; the shutters had been closed all day to keep the heat away, and she didn’t feel like opening them now. Something twisted in Evelyn’s insides, an emptiness that she quickly dismissed, putting it down to exhaustion. She gave a sigh as she turned away from the table, gently rubbing the bridge of her nose.

Wait a minute. Something doesn’t look right here. Evelyn turned back to the table, blinking furiously to erase all traces of sleep, and only then did she take notice of the square envelope lying right there on the table, plain as day.

“Ardeth!” she whispered as loud as she dared to the Medjai who had one foot on the first step to the first floor. Alex stirred a little in his arms. “Have you seen this?” Curiosity, mingled with dread, overtook any trace of weariness, and she swiftly grasped the letter. She had a fairly good idea what it was about.

Ardeth nodded. The light didn’t quite reach him where he was standing, and she could only see his chin, his high cheekbones, and the tip of his aquiline nose. Everything else was hidden in shadow.

“I have, but if I may, I’ll put Alexander to bed first. I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

Evelyn nodded, a little ashamed that she had not had this reaction herself. But as she gazed down at the letter and waited for her friend to come down, a sinking feeling of foreboding began to creep into her stomach. This particular letter would be no good at all.

Ardeth was soon downstairs and standing beside Evelyn as she ripped the paper open. The letter was wordy, but short enough.

Mrs O’Connell,

As you may have guessed by now, your husband Rick O’Connell and your brother Jonathan Carnahan are, as we write, enjoying our company in a place that I am sure you will understand we will keep secret. They will be brought back to you in due time, when what is expected of them is completed, and this only if you do not have the rather foolish impulse to do something rash like going to the police.

I am positive we understand each other, Mrs O’Connell. We are a powerful organisation, and will not be troubled by impulsive actions, especially on your part.

Yours respectfully.

Evelyn would have wanted to say something, anything, but her throat felt too tight to talk. Instead, she let go of the letter, which now seemed to burn her fingers. Ardeth was looking at her, but she avoided his gaze, aware that she was blinking more than was usually necessary. Her vision was slightly blurred at the edges, and she wasn’t sure whether tiredness was the sole reason.

“Well, at least the cat is out of the bag now,” she said shakily when she could find her voice again. It sounded like a pale imitation of herself.

Ardeth appeared grave. When Evelyn felt collected enough again to look at him, he said, “Whatever cat you are speaking about, this certainly is an important discovery.”

Evelyn’s tight lips relaxed for a second in an ever-so-slight smile. Ardeth always said that for all his good will, he would never quite get used to colloquialisms.

“Don’t worry about it more than you already do, Evelyn,” he carried on gently, seemingly not noticing her slight change of expression. “Those who have written this letter meant only to frighten you into inactivity. However, we must be careful. Do you mind if I take this letter to Fahad Hakim? I promise that it will be back before you know it.”

“Are you going back to Dr Hakim’s right now, then?” Evelyn asked, startled. “What about rest?”

“If this is what concerns you, don’t worry, I will get some soon,” Ardeth answered. “But I advise you to sleep now. Today will be a long day, and it would be best to get prepared for anything that might happen.”

Evelyn nodded, tiredness abruptly coming back so strongly that it almost drove even her fears away. She folded the letter and handed it to Ardeth, who took it and carefully put it in a pocket of his robes.

“I’ll be on my way, then,” he said as Evelyn showed him to the door. “Have a good rest, and make the most of it.”

“I promise I will,” she said with a tired smile, still blinking. “There’s simply no question of you waltzing off to some haphazard adventure in search of my husband and my brother without me.”

“I would have been greatly surprised otherwise,” said Ardeth with a smile of his own that made his eyes flash.

.⅋.

Thomas Ferguson had not closed an eye last night.

It wasn’t the first time that he stayed up all night, far from it. This sort of thing tended to happen fairly often in this line of work. He had got used to the headaches, the stiffness, and the coated tongue that he would usually get after a whole night spent doing paperwork and drinking Earl Greys, occasionally splashed with a shot of brandy. One or two by night, no more, was his general rule.

However, on this particular night, Tom hadn’t done any of the paperwork. He had simply, stupidly lain awake on his cot all night, pondering the situation.

What a fuckin’ mess.

He had arrived at this conclusion early enough, despite the fact that he had truly grasped all the extent of the Chamber’s plans when Gabriel bloody Baine and his hit squad had popped out of that Lincoln and asked Jon, O’Connell and him to get in. At that moment, he had known that what he had dreaded and what nobody had told him was turning out to be true: the Chamber needed more than the diamond to achieve their goal; for some reason they wanted the people who had owned it as well. True to form, they had picked the first ‘suspects’ they had come across. And sent their most insufferable agent after them. Honestly, for all his posturing, agent Baine was little more than a smug thug with a vocabulary.

Tom shook his head, putting his pen back on the table and massaging the bridge of his nose. Why did it have to be Jon? And why did it have to be him on this case? He had been genuinely glad to see his old mate again, to share memories of the good old days, and talk about their respective lives. And when they had phoned him in the early hours of the following morning to tell him what his assignment was going to be, he had protested vehemently. But his requests for another assignment had been rejected and he’d got stuck in this bloody shambles.

Never, in eight years of work, had he been so reluctant to complete an assignment. Jon wasn’t like most of the guys he had known from school, from friendly grown foreign, a stranger with nothing in common anymore. No matter how much each of them had changed, Tom had really felt, for a couple of hours, as if they were back in that little pub on the bank of the River Cherwell, sharing some good laughs and a few silences.

War hadn’t shattered that right away. People had left, proud and glorious in spanking new uniforms, never to come back, while he worked himself to the bone trying to pay for his studies and study at the same time. Edwin Farbow had joined up in August 1914 and died two months later. Arthur McAlester had been repatriated three years later with one foot missing, lost to trenchfoot disease. Elizabeth, who had joined up as a nurse, had only found out he was even alive six months later.

The pressure on students to enlist had been tremendous. The Empire needed officers, and for some unfathomable reason one of the places they looked was 18 and 20 year old boys whose main concern so far had been to not fail Ancient Greek.

Tom had barely finished his history degree in 1916 when he got conscripted two weeks after his 22nd birthday. Jon, six months younger, had enlisted right after, saying he was sick of getting white feathers1 handed to him in the street. They lost sight of each other after basic training; Tom only met him again briefly once or twice after the war before he and his sister Evelyn moved to Egypt for good.

Thus Tom Ferguson spent the last twelve months of the war in the Army Service Corps, driving ammunition, food, and equipment to and from the front, amidst shells and bullets and landmines. When the war was over, he had a captain’s rank and a real talent for driving in the worst kinds of conditions, but also a true horror of driving at all. Thank goodness for trains, buses and cabs.

It was on a tramway that he had met Elizabeth McAlester again a few years later. Then they had met again, and again, and one thing leading to another, realised that they couldn’t do without the other’s company.

Tom tried to blink away the sting in his eyes, the result of another sleepless night. He longed for Liz’s cool hand on his brow easing the worries away like she would do, or enveloping him in a tender hug. He longed to bury his face in her thick curly hair, breathe in the familiar scent of clove and vanilla, so sweet, so reassuring. Her very presence, however quiet, was indispensable to him, be it hearing her humming softly in another room, the sound of her feet on the floor, a glimpse of her as she passed, the rich colours of her dark red hair, a smile in her hazel eyes, the taste of her lips… They had been apart before, sometimes for days, but both of them knew they had the other to come home to. Now that she had been taken away from him by force – not to mention the fact that he had strict orders not to see her – he truly realised how much he missed her. It was constantly there, like a knot in his throat that reminded him why he was doing what he was doing.

Throughout his career, he had had to do some dirty work now and then, but it never interfered with his personal life. For him, being a secret agent consisted of a lot of dull paperwork and very little actual field action, which he had eventually been only happy to after reading a few fellow agents’ reports.

Oh sure, when the Chamber had contacted him at the very beginning he had been beside himself with joy. At last, a serious organisation, if a little obscure, with direct links to the British Government was interested enough in his work on ancient civilisations to hire him! Officially he was a consultant of the British Antique Research Department. In reality, he was a clerk in the Chamber of Horus, a secret governmental organisation specialised in keeping a watch over precious or supposed dangerous artefacts and acquiring them. The name originally came from the legendary secret treasure chamber said to be hidden in the depths of the Great Pyramid. Tom still didn’t really know for sure whether they had discovered it. His specialised field was the Valley of the Kings, not the north of Egypt, and any information was carefully compartmentalised.

He had known the bare bones about Imhotep, High Priest of Osiris, and the consequences of his affair with Pharaoh Seti 1’s concubine Anck-su-namun – not just the hom-dai that had followed, but also some of what had happened both eleven and two years ago. It had been hard to lie to Jon. One of the reasons Tom was so seldom assigned to field work was his inability to lie without overacting and a certain tendency to blunder. Hiding things was not a big problem; as far as Elizabeth was concerned, he had been working for eight years for the Research Department. But he still had some difficulty with telling correctly a downright lie, lacking the aplomb for it.

Unlike Jon. Jon was by far one of the best liars he’d ever seen. That ability had got the two of them out of many a tricky situation.

The pen he’d put down earlier almost hit the wall. No matter how hard he tried to think seriously about his report, his thoughts always came back to either Liz or Jon.

Tom let out a frustrated sigh, furious with himself. For someone who liked life simple and comfortable, his current situation was anything but, between the concern gnawing at his guts and the feeling that a big part of this sorry mess, if not everything, was his fault.

Well, not quite everything, to be honest. But definitely a big part of it.

He had to explain himself, at least to Jon. There was no way in hell they’d let him see Liz, let alone talk to her, until the whole thing was over. Jon was easier to reach. Tom could always find one pretext or other that the henchmen would buy.

Right now was just the right time, too. The guards had been reduced to two rookies on Sundays, who probably wouldn’t dare question the word of a senior agent. The perfect circumstances for a word alone with Jon and O’Connell.

Tom holstered his service gun as he stood up and headed for the door of his office, a much smaller one than his cover office in the British Consulate in Cairo. Half of his files and books were there, and the other was here in his Giza office. He had hardly enough room for his desk, his chair and his coat-rack, which was fine for him. It wasn’t as if he spent such a lot of time in there anyway.

Only a couple of hours after lunchtime and it was already sweltering. Tom was sweating under the light jacket he was more or less forced to put on to hide the holster when walking in the street. Consequently he was in a bit of a bad mood when he finally arrived at the house the Chamber had requisitioned because of its good location and thick basement door, and used it to appear more self-confident than he felt.

“Ferguson,” he said after the regulation knock on the door and flashing his badge at the young agent. “I’m here to interrogate the prisoners.”

The lad – Michaels, Tom believed his name was – opened the door, gave an embarrassed smile as Tom’s eyes fell on the lemonade glasses and honey cakes on the table, called his colleague to check his identity again, and showed him down the worn and dusty stairs. Tom found himself alone in front of the door with the keys before he could even think up a better excuse. It had not been three minutes since he had knocked at the door. Amazing. Either the newbies were amazingly incompetent, or he had the devil’s own luck for once.

Now that the two agents had gone back up to the ground floor to their lemonades, there was no sound other than the muffled voices, engaged in lively conversation, of the two ‘prisoners’ on the other side of the door. Tom hesitated for a few seconds, the memory of Jon’s fist the evening before still quite vivid in his jaw. But he kept reminding himself that sorting things out with his mate was worth the risk.

With an intake of breath as if before a plunge, Tom took out the keys and opened the door.

The conversation ceased immediately, and he found himself under the fire of two pairs of bright blue eyes, one round and furious, the other slightly slanted and cold. It unnerved him for a second.

“Oh,” Jon said in an absolutely flat tone, as if Tom was something nasty stuck on the sole of his shoe, “it’s you.”

Tom paid no attention to the sudden pang in his heart and closed the door behind him. “Hi, Jon,” he attempted rather lamely. “O’Connell,” he added after a second, with a slight nod to the American.

Neither of the two moved.

“What are you here for exactly?” asked Jon in a cold voice he had never used to talk to Tom before.

“Yeah,” came O’Connell’s quiet growl. “Aren’t you afraid you’re gonna get hit?” After a second’s glance at Jon two steps behind him, he added, “… Again?”

Something flickered over Jon’s face, like the ghost of a grin. This perhaps did more harm to Tom than his former friend’s tone of voice. Tom shook his head. “Look, I kinda have an idea of what you’re thinking right now. But if you feel like takin’ it out on me, at least wait till you know why you’re here.”

“I’m sure you and your bosses have a very important reason for keeping us in here. But we’re more interested in getting out. What makes you think you’re just gonna walk out of here when you could be our ticket out, buddy?” O’Connell said, a dangerous expression on his face.

Tom’s heart rate picked up speed. Not that he was truly surprised. He’d seen prisoners escape with the unwilling help of a hostage, and he simply wasn’t going to make that blunder. He stood his ground and took out his gun in a swift move.

“Well, this, for one,” he said simply.

O’Connell didn’t say nor do anything, but his bright burning gaze remained fixed on Tom. As for Jon, he just stood there silently, but there was something on his face that made Tom avoid looking at him in the eyes.

“Look,” he finally repeated, “I came here by myself. No one knows I’m here but the two agents up the stairs. I’m not acting under orders now, all right?”

“And after all the rot you’ve been feeding us, we’re actually supposed to believe you?” Jon piped up. His narrowed eyes, now totally devoid of warmth, made a stark contrast with his nonchalant attitude, hands casually buried in his pockets.

“Yeah, that’s what you’re supposed to do,” snapped Tom. “For chrissakes, man, I’m ‘ere to help!”

“Then why don’t ya let us out, huh?” deadpanned O’Connell, his eyes still fixed on him. Tom stared back.

“I can’t do that. They’d hurt me wife if I did.”

“We figured that out, thanks,” said Jon, an unreadable expression on his face. Tom turned to him, surprised.

“How’s that?”

“Because I spent half the night talking to her yesterday,” O’Connell said. “She was in the cell-thing right next to ours.��

Tom’s heart missed a beat.

“You talked to her? How is she? Is she all right?”

“Seems she is,” said Jon, with in his voice something that sounded like a sneer mixed with reproach that didn’t suit him at all, “and not thanks to you.”

Tom couldn’t help a withering glare. “D’you really think this is a time for witty remarks?”

Jon’s eyes went round. “Could you think of a better time?”

“Actually, yeah, I could!”

“All right, stop it, you two,” O’Connell cut in, looking a bit exasperated. “Jeez, you sound like a couple of kids. You, get to the point. You, let him talk.”

Jon shot the American a rather dirty look, but didn’t add anything. Tom holstered his gun and took the opportunity to speak, somewhat grateful for O’Connell’s intervention.

“Right. Well, as you may have guessed, I don’t really work for the British Antique Research Department –” a snort interrupted him, and he glowered at Jon “– but for a governmental institution called the Chamber of Horus, and we’re supposed to look after dangerous ancient artefacts. That’s why the diamond of Ahm Shere was removed from the museum – right, Jon, if you snigger one more time I’ll just leave here and not come back.”

“Please,” Jon said sarcastically before O’Connell could say anything, “do carry on. I’d hate to interrupt you.”

Torn between remorse and sheer exasperation, Tom cast another quick glare at his former friend, and continued, “So the diamond was taken. My assignment was initially to try and keep the curator busy while a team took the diamond… But right before the start of the mission, the day before in fact, I bumped into you totally by chance – yes, that much is true – and me bosses changed their plans.

“They decided to use you as a connection to the Museum through the curator, in order to get me inside the museum in the first place. But you were so eager to show me that diamond that everything went much quicker than expected.”

Tom preferred to stop there, because facing the combined looks of a pained and furious Jon and an equally furious O’Connell was a bit much. He carried on despite the lump in his throat that he fought hard to swallow.

“Jon, you have to believe me when I say that I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t want to do anything as far as you and your family were concerned, and I certainly didn’t want you involved in this mess! But you must understand that orders are something you can’t just ignore…” Christ, how stupid he sounded! “I – I don’t know what they would have done, but it wouldn’t’ve been very nice. These folks don’t joke, mate.”

“Oh really? I sort of felt that when they bashed my head in twice,” sneaked Jon with so much venom that even O’Connell glanced at him with a slightly surprised expression. Tom tried to steel himself.

“Look, the evening before the stealing of the diamond, I was told that I was to help the team in it, meaning let you be stunned and then be knocked out too meself. I said no, that there was no way in hell I’d let anybody hurt you to serve their interests. That’s when they told me that I didn’t really have a choice.”

He took in a long breath, and to his relief, neither Jon nor O’Connell said anything in the meantime.

“They showed me a picture of me wife Elizabeth in a room I didn’t recognise, with in her hands an issue of the Voice of Cairo. They told me that they had guessed I’d say that, and that if I didn’t obey orders, I’d receive bits and pieces of her… a finger… a toe… every day.” For a second time he tried to swallow the lump in his throat, without much success. “I didn’t know they could actually do something like that, but I wasn’t that surprised somehow.”

Again, Tom stopped and nobody said anything. This time it was Jon’s turn to avoid his gaze, but O’Connell still stared at him with something like interest in his bright blue eyes.

“What would you have done if it were you?” asked Tom, turning to the American, suddenly angry. “If you’d seen a picture of your wife like that, and heard them saying they’d torture her if you didn’t obey? Wouldn’t you have done everything you could for all this bloody mess to end quick?”

“Cool down, I get your point,” O’Connell said slowly. “I’d never do anything that put Evy in danger. But if some bunch of weirdos had kidnapped her, I sure as hell would have done everything to find her and get her outta here.”

Tom shook his head. “You don’t understand. I can’t just leave this job. They’d find us anywhere and kill us.”

“Now you’re just being paranoid,” muttered Jon, his voice a little bit shaky. “Surely you can’t be that important?”

“Not really, Jon, but I know a lot of stuff that could be dangerous for them. I’m just a pawn in the game, but they can’t afford to lose any.”

“What game are you talking about?” O’Connell asked lowly, his eyes narrowing. “What twisted kind of game is that?”

That’s the moment the door chose to open with a grim creak.

“One with extremely important resonance, Mr O’Connell,” said a low, chilling voice from the threshold.

Charles K. Hamilton stood there, flanked by none other than Baine and an unassuming fellow named Stephens, and wearing what came closest to a smile on his face.

.⅋.

“Who the hell are you?”

Rick had never seen this guy before. He had never even seen anything like this guy before. Oddball Number One he knew, sort of, and the second goon was an unknown quantity, but this guy… He was clean. Despite the fact that he came from the hot and dusty outside, there was not a single grey hair sticking out and his suit was perfect. He looked so immaculate it was disturbing.

When you looked further than the suit, though, there was just something creepy about the guy. Real creepy. Apart from his black suit, an oddity in itself, everything about him was grey – his hair, the hue of his skin, and his eyes. Those eyes were the coldest Rick had looked upon in a couple of years.

Rick’s eyes fell on the two Englishmen. Ferguson had blanched, and Jonathan wore a weird expression on his face.

Then it dawned on him. “I’ve just met Nosferatu”, “His boss wanted to see me about what happened at the Museum two days ago. Seems that the Research Department was keeping an eye on the diamond…”

“You’re his boss, right?” he said to the newcomer, jerking a thumb towards Ferguson without looking at him. “The guy Jonathan went to see yesterday.”

Unlike the rest of his person, the creep’s teeth showed white when he unveiled his eye-teeth in some grim attempt at a smile. Rick almost expected them to be grey as well.

“You know, Mr O’Connell, from what I had gathered so far, you didn’t strike me as the smart sort.” Here he glanced sideways to Number One, who offered the American his slimiest, most toad-like smile. “It seems that hearsay does not do you justice.”

“What do you want with that diamond?” Rick asked abruptly. He always hated people beating around the bush, and to him it looked as though they’d been doing just that for a while. “And you!” He cast a brief look at Ferguson, who looked horror-struck. “Thought you weren’t ‘acting under orders’?”

“I was not,” shouted Ferguson, sounding desperate. It was then that Rick noticed that Jonathan’s glare had not left the Liverpudlian since his boss arrived. “I swear to God, I wasn’t!”

“First things first, Ferguson,” came Grey Guy’s calm, low-pitched voice. “Since you do not already know me, Mr O’Connell, my name is Charles Hamilton, and I am indeed a ‘boss’, Ferguson’s and many others’. We happen to work within a governmental organisation called the Chamber of Horus. That should be enough for you to know.

“Still, Ferguson is speaking the truth: I certainly did not give any order for him to interrogate you, although I did suspect that he would try and reach you anyway. That is why I gave particular orders to the two agents up there for them to contact me whenever he came, if he did.

“As for the Diamond of Ahm Shere… I take it that Ferguson did not have the time to fill you in about that particular subject, did he?”

“Yep, he stopped before the interesting part,” Rick said, keeping his voice even. Ferguson turned a pair of hurt and surprised brown eyes to him. To tell the truth, Rick had not been that unsympathetic to the Englishman’s story, but there were some things that needed to be done quick. And he didn’t really feel like apologising to Ferguson.

“Did he now?” There was something mocking written all over Hamilton’s severe face, down to the eye-teeth. “Well, it is true that there is a lot our mutual ‘friend’ doesn’t know about.” He turned away from Rick to Jonathan. “Mr Carnahan, I apologise for not greeting you so far. How do you fare in this simple but homely abode?”

“Not too bad, the accommodation is just top-notch,” Jonathan eventually said, shifting his gaze from Ferguson to his boss. “Except for your coffee, which is just about the most foul-tasting, revolting bloody thing I’ve ever had the misfortune of tasting in my life.”

Rick couldn’t help a grin. His brother-in-law could be very entertaining when he decided to turn on the posh and wield it like a weapon.

Hamilton pursed his lips, and his gaze went even colder, if such a thing was possible, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he turned to Number One and the other guy.

“Mr Baine, Mr Stephens? You can leave us now, gentlemen. Wait for me behind the door, and do not let anyone come out or in unless I give you the order to. Is that clear?”

“Perfectly, sir,” answered Number One, aka Baine. To be honest, Rick was rather relieved to have a name for the guy. It was a lot easier to hate someone when you had a name to go with the death threats.

Once they were outside and the door was shut, Hamilton slowly turned to the three of them again, and, looking at each of them in turn, said, “Now, has any of you heard about something called the Night of the Long Knives?”

In Hamilton’s dead-looking grey eyes had just grown such an intensity that Rick almost unconsciously racked his brain for an answer to the echo the term had made. And he found it.

“Something that happened in Germany a couple of years ago, right? The papers talked about it.” The memory was hazy, but it definitely rang a bell about some nasty kind of stuff. He even remembered a few caricatures published at the time.

“I think I sort of see what you mean as well,” Jonathan said behind him in a low voice. “Wasn’t it something about purges in the German army and whatnot?”

“Pleasure to see you read the press so carefully,” said Hamilton sarcastically. “It did have something to do with Germany, in this you are both correct. However, I do not suppose that the words ‘Sturm Abteilung’ mean anything to you. Am I mistaken?”

Rick couldn’t help but exchange a puzzled glance with Jonathan and Ferguson, who both glanced back, looking equally lost. Where was all of this leading to?

“I might have known. Well, gentlemen, know then that Adolf Hitler did not come to power all by himself. He had help, as all leaders do. In his case, there were faithful followers who had been behind him as early as the mid-Twenties, and who had been organised into a sort of alternate army, or militia, if you will.

“Now, three years ago, decisions were made to remove the SA, as they were called for short, from the scene. As it turns out, they were starting to be a nuisance rather than a support to Hitler: although the most part was still faithful to him, they had quite a bad reputation among the German people, and the German people’s unquestioning faith in their Führer is paramount to Hitler. Furthermore, there were whispers of discontent among the SA themselves that their Führer had forgotten whom he owned his very power as the Chancellor to in the first place.

“These kinds of whispers came completely expected, even hoped-for. Three years ago, on the pretence of quelling a plot, Hitler secretly sentenced leaders of the Sturm Abteilung to be massively eliminated.”

Jeez. Rick still couldn’t for the life of him see the point that Hamilton guy intended to make, but the whole business definitely smelled foul. Glancing at the two other Englishmen, he could see that, while Ferguson’s brown eyes were narrowing, Jonathan’s blue eyes had gone rounder.

“Oh, I remember,” he said. “That’s right, it was in the papers, made quite a scandal at the time –”

“My, what a memory the public has.” Hamilton rolled his eyes. “In any case, what the papers did not print was that the actual number of ‘victims’ was not sixty-one, as the Nazi government stated, but over four hundreds, maybe a thousand.”

“A thousand!?” Rick was barely aware of his mouth falling slightly open. He goggled at Hamilton for a little while, long enough for the thought to really sink in. A thousand people killed just for the sake of a reputation, without trial, without anything? Even the guy from Kafka’s story had had a trial, if a phony one.

He remembered what Cazenave had told him, back in the Legion, about executions of rebels in the army in ’17. How they had been court-martialled and shot to show the others how the officers dealt with ‘traitors’. Rick remembered the grim expression in the Frenchman’s eyes as he told him that the actual number of victims of such ‘operations’ was surely much bigger than what he had heard.

But here… The huge number made things suddenly look huge. Four hundreds at least. Shit.

“Yes, gentlemen,” said Hamilton, and there was something sinister in his not-smile as he looked at the three of them. “Sort of boggles the mind, doesn’t it? Of course, I was not supposed to know this fact. It took some personal investigation for me to find out. But you see, I had motivations.” There he stopped, and continued in a flat tone, totally devoid of emotion, “One of my second cousins… ‘disappeared’ at the time.”

Rick, Jonathan, and Ferguson looked at each other.

“Allow me to display a few details of my family history. Kurt – the cousin I am talking about – came from the German side of the family, and had lived all his life in the country his mother was born in. As it turns out, he became infatuated with Hitler’s idea of a new Germany, and climbed step by step the ladder to higher ranks of the SA. I think he was the equivalent of our rank of sergeant when the Night of the Long Knives came to pass.

“As the German government gave our family no account whatsoever of what had befallen Kurt, I decided to do research on my own. My rank in the Chamber of Horus proved quite useful when I discovered the Germans’ – and more specifically Hitler’s – interest in the occult, and soon enough I had a contact of my own in the Nazi government.”

“You don’t mean you traded pieces of information about our treasures for information about your cousin!?” Ferguson asked, sounding thoroughly shocked. Hamilton didn’t even look at him.

“Quiet, Ferguson. I did not do research on my cousin only. When I discovered that they had had him executed, I did not broach the subject anymore and concentrated instead on the Nazis’ plans. My contact was – rather stupidly, I have to say – glad to give me details on what they were going to do to Europe and Britain in particular. No need to say that I had him done away with as soon as he became too dangerous.”

“Aren’t you afraid a cousin of his will investigate his death?” said Rick, sarcastic.

“Very funny. In any case, what I learned there is the reason of your presence here.”

“Could you by any chance be more precise?” Jonathan asked.

“I could.” The Englishman’s voice, from low and chilly, turned downright creepy at this point. “Gentlemen, something terrible is about to happen at the hands of the Nazis. I do not know when, but someday, soon, that black order will sweep over Europe, a denial of all the values of Christianity, and the world as we know it will be over.”

Despite the fact that this had to be one of the most ridiculous ideas he had ever heard, Rick couldn’t help but feel a little unsettled by the guy’s flat, dead serious tone, and the total lack of light in his cold grey eyes. Besides, he had some experience now with announced apocalypses.

“That’s what your ‘contact’ told you?” Rick said, not wanting this creep to think he believed this load of bullshit for one second. “Could’ve picked something more original. We’re kinda used to ‘the end of the world as we know it’, ya know.”

He had the small satisfaction of hearing a quiet chuckle coming from behind him. At least his brother-in-law’s sense of humour appeared to be intact.

Hamilton glanced at him with a look of intense disgust, to which Rick replied with a fake grin.

“Oh,” Hamilton said, gritting his teeth, “because you have witnessed Imhotep’s rising twice, you think you are prepared for everything? You fools, I am not talking about science-fiction mummies waking up from the dead!”

“Because what happened at Hamunaptra and Ahm Shere is science-fiction now, is it?” Jonathan exclaimed before Rick could say anything. “Not sure that those who died back there would agree with you, old chap.” There was genuine anger in his eyes, and something in his voice quivered as he finished his sentence. Rick didn’t even have to look at him to know that the both of them were thinking about the same person who ‘died’ back there.

Ferguson looked at his old friend with an odd expression in his eyes, but didn’t say anything. Maybe he was thinking about the same thing.

“What I meant to say –” Hamilton’s voice grew louder “– was that Imhotep is nothing compared to what Adolf Hitler plans to do. He was an evil, yes, but an evil of another age – Hitler is, or will be, the evil of our age. Has none of you read Mein Kampf? Do you not understand that he will do – and is in fact doing – exactly as he says? If he can order hundreds of his own supporters killed, what will stop him from killing thousands?”

Despite what Evy liked to call his ‘matter-of-fact’ nature, which undoubtedly referred to his habit of believing only what he could see with his own eyes, Rick was starting to get a bit uneasy. This guy seemed deadly serious. And what was more, he did sound like he completely believed what he was saying. But…

“I still have a question. What does all this have to do with us?”

Hamilton’s lips curled in a sort of smile. “Nothing – and everything. In fact, the real point of your being here is Ahm Shere.”

“Ahm Shere?!” What the –

“Thought it was supposed to be science-fiction,” Jonathan piped in, his eyes narrowed like each time he was thinking hard and fast. Usually it was when he was trying to come up with an escape plan – and the person he was trying to escape from was usually Evy.

“You know, Mr Carnahan –” Hamilton turned for a second to him with something that looked like sarcasm in his eyes, otherwise seemingly devoid of any expression, “– you really are sounding like somebody who would like to pass for a complete idiot. I’m going to assume that you are not one and resume my explanation.”

“You do that, old boy, while I send for my duelling pistols.”

Rick glanced at Jonathan. The man still looked a little bit pale, but a little pissed as well. But then maybe this had something to do with the fact that he didn’t have a gun pointed at him this time.

“So very droll,” Hamilton said flatly. “Now, where was I?”

“Ahm Shere,” replied a chorus of three voices, one American and the other two English.

Hamilton cast a withering glance at Ferguson. The Englishman winced.

“When you are quite finished with this childish behaviour, perhaps I might tell you the exact reason why you betrayed your former school friend, Ferguson,” he said in a voice that made Rick very glad he wasn’t in Ferguson’s shoes right now. “Now, Ahm Shere.

“I cannot remember a time when I wasn’t fascinated with this legend. The oasis lost in the great desert… The pyramid in the middle of the luxuriant, but deadly wild forest… And the fact that this pyramid was said to be made of gold undoubtedly had its attraction. But to tell the truth, all these legendary tales weren’t really the focus of my attention. What I was most interested in, ever since the very beginning, was the Army of Anubis.”

Funny, Rick mused. Archaeologists never seem to dream about normal stuff. My own wife dreams about old, dusty, decaying books and all this guy can think about is an old, decaying army – which, incidentally, doesn’t exist anymore.

“Well, too bad for you,” came Jonathan’s voice. “Place’s closed. Last time I heard, the Army was gone.”

“If you would be so kind as to not interrupting me for trifles like this,” Hamilton said icily, “I would greatly appreciate it. If the three of you were a little more aware of Egyptian history, then you would know the full story of Ahm Shere.”

“What, you mean about the Scorpion King, how he sold his soul to Anubis so that he could have his own big bad army to kick his opponents’ collective ass, was then sucked into the pyramid, how Hafez and his pals woke Imhotep up two years ago so that he could kick the Scorpion King’s ass, so that his army would be his?” Rick had said that quickly, without even stopping to breathe. Hamilton looked at him, one grey eyebrow raised in obvious disdain.

“Americans.”

“Watch it, you,” Jonathan snapped. This made Rick blink in surprise, then smile just a bit.

“Your depiction is more or less accurate, Mr O’Connell,” Hamilton admitted. “The Army of Anubis was bestowed upon the Scorpion King as a gift, a token of his alliance with the jackal-god. It logically disappeared in the blink of an eye when you killed the Scorpion King with the Sceptre of Osiris. I wouldn’t be mistaken if I was to say this is all you know, would I? However, it is not the entire truth.”

“What d’you mean, ‘not the entire truth’?” Rick asked, frowning. “I did kill the Scorpion King!”

“Oh yes, you undoubtedly did,” Hamilton said derisively. “However, this ‘truth’ has more to do with the Army of Anubis than with the Scorpion King. Know this, gentlemen: though Mathayus is dead, the army that used to be his remains, buried deep under the sand that now covers Ahm Shere.”

“Wait,” Rick interrupted, taken aback by the enormity of the news, “this means that these freakish jackal-headed things aren’t gone?! And who the hell is this Mathayus?”

“Mathayus was the name of the Scorpion King, when he was still human,” Ferguson said quietly. Rick almost started. He had all but forgotten the guy was there at all.

“Thanks,” he said quickly, rather reluctantly, before turning back to Hamilton, “But I thought – hell, we all thought that once the Scorpion King was dead, his army was sent back to the Underworld?”

“It is true, in a way,” Hamilton explained, with the tiniest touch of patience in his voice. “But then, you surely remember that the Creature Imhotep intended to kill the Scorpion King to take command of the Army of Anubis?”

“Sure, we’re not likely to forget that, are we?” Jonathan chimed in.

“Then you will see it makes sense. I presume that Mr O’Connell here did not kill the Scorpion King in order to own his army, did he?”

Rick shrugged wordlessly, having to admit it.

“By killing Mathayus, you have stopped his army – for a while. But what you don’t seem to be aware of is that the pact he made with Anubis demanded that he’d be worthy of him. By allowing you to kill him, he proved unworthy of the god’s trust, and so from this moment the Army was out of his hands.”

“Okay, I get it. Whoever killed the Scorpion King proved his worth, and got the Army of Anubis as a reward afterwards, right?” Despite the fact that it sounded rather far-fetched, Rick had to admit that it did make sense, in a twisted sort of way. But how come Ardeth hadn’t told them about it?

Maybe the Medjai just didn’t know. The thought came in the form of a nasty pang as Rick realised he’d always expected them – and especially Ardeth – to know just about everything that went on in Egypt. Well, it was their job, in a way; they always did seem to lurk in the background, conveniently taking care of everything that needed to be taken care of.

But they were human beings. There must be one thing they didn’t know. Like what would happen to Alex if he didn’t take off the Bracelet of Anubis before seven days had passed.

Too bad it turned out to be this kind of small details.

“Precisely, although I would certainly not put it this way.” Hamilton sounded almost pleased to have such a keen audience. “It is written that the Army of Anubis shall come to whoever claims it after Anubis’ servant proves unworthy. And it just so happens that, when the moon sets on June 30th – that’s next Thursday, as you may have guessed, and the new moon of this month – the Egyptian year changes. We will enter the Year of the Jackal – the year Anubis is most celebrated. And, supposedly, the year when he is at his most powerful.”

“And what does all this stuff have to do with Hitler?” Jonathan asked. Hamilton got a funny look in his eyes at that. This look struck a bell in Rick, who remembered it from somewhere, though he couldn’t place it.

“Have you listened nothing of what I said?” the older Englishman said, his grey eyes suddenly ablaze. “Is it so hard to put two and two together – can you not see what I’m getting at? Hitler has the power to do more harm to humanity than Imhotep and the Scorpion King themselves could ever dream of – and what’s more, he is planning to use this power!”

Rick’s jaw dropped in spite of him. He’d just understood. “Jeez Louise… You’re gonna send the Army of Anubis in Germany to kill Hitler and –”

“– And wipe out Germany in the process!?” Jonathan’s face had turned very white very quickly. He looked as though he’d just been punched in the stomach, reflecting what Rick himself felt.

“I would say something along these lines, yes,” Hamilton answered calmly. “The world can only be safe when every single one of his followers are dead.”

To say the silence that fell in the room was heavy would have been a hell of an understatement. Rick’s eyes remained fixed on Hamilton’s steady, expressionless gaze, his square face, his clean black suit, unable to keep himself from wondering at the strange turns situations tended to get as soon as they and Egypt were involved. Maybe – like what he knew about America – the country just tended to attract nutcases.

“Look, buddy…” he finally said hesitatingly, after a long intake of breath. “You can’t use a… some kind of weapon of mass destruction on an entire country because of what its government or its leader might do. What about anyone who disagrees with the guy? They’ll just be obliterated with the rest!”

“Collateral damage is inevitable. It’s a risk I’m prepared to take.”

Rick’s mouth fell open, and a thought crossed his brain like lightning.

The thing about the French Foreign Legion was that it attracted all sorts from all kinds of different countries, and for all kinds of reasons. Sometimes they remained secret, sometimes the soldiers shared them; nobody ever asked. Pavel had shared his one night. That was when Rick had heard the word ‘pogrom’ for the first time.

“You see, prijátelʹ2,” he had told Rick one evening, “there are places when one day, someone will shout ‘Kill the Jews! Kill all the Jews!’. And because killing Jews is solution to all problems, Jews will die. Like my wife die. My father. The mother of my father. My little boy. Problem remain, and one day, someone else shout ‘Kill the Jews!’ And reznjá – cutting, killing – starts again.”

There was nothing Rick could say to that, even if he had wanted. He took a long gulp from the flask of dubious alcohol Beni had procured somewhere, then wordlessly handed it to Pavel. Pavel had only sipped a bit before staring at him with eyes that looked like bottomless wells.

“Sometimes, place is in people’s head. You watch out for these people, O’Connell. These people, in charge? Danger, and not just for Jews.”

Rick had remembered that conversation more and more clearly for the past half-dozen years. It was very easy to forget that the outside world existed when you were on a dig with your gorgeous, loving wife, unearthing timeless artefacts to her unending enthusiasm. It was even easier when the dig ended up involving swallowing half your volume in Nile water, pursuing your son’s kidnappers halfway across the desert, seeing your gorgeous, loving wife murdered before your eyes and come back with someone else’s memories on top of the usual ones. But some things he paid attention to.

“You know,” he said slowly, “there’s a lot of German people who would live a lot better if it wasn’t for Hitler. I mean, they’d probably be happy if you had him assassinated. And you’re really planning on letting them be ‘collateral damage’!? What’d they do to you?”

“Not to mention,” came Jonathan’s unsteady voice from behind him, “it’s not even that certain that Anubis’ army will obey you, is it? Do you really think they’ll care to stay within the borders of Germany?”

“What are you talking about? Of course it will obey me – it obeys the one who claims it, the legend is quite clear about that!” snapped Hamilton. Rick rolled his eyes.

“I admit this is not the right place in the world to say that, but – Christ, you mustn’t always take this kind of fairy tales and hokum at face value!”

“He’s right.” Jonathan’s voice sounded a bit firmer. “Take Ahm Shere: the pyramid was supposed to be made of solid gold and everything. Well, I’ve seen the bloody thing close, and I can tell you, it’s not gold. Not on the outside, anyway.”

In other circumstances, Rick would have snorted. That reality had not matched legend on this particular point had been a sore point for his brother-in-law.

But Hamilton looked dead set. He could have been deaf to what they had said, for all his expression changed. “Don’t waste time and breath,” he said coldly. “You will not make me change my mind. I’ll let you know that you have no choice – you haven’t had any choice ever since you were asked to take the Diamond to England.”

Oh, crap! “What d’you mean? When was this stunt set up?”

“Quite some time ago, actually,” Hamilton answered, his voice dangerously low. “It began when you, Mr Carnahan, sold the Diamond of Ahm Shere to the Cairo Museum of Antiquities. But I believe it was truly set in motion when Italy finished invading Ethiopia, only a few months after the events of Ahm Shere. However, if you speak of my projects, you may as well know that they are my own. No orders were given to me. I took the initiative in retrieving the Diamond – which shall be needed in time – and bringing you here.”

“I’d still like to know what this has to do with us,” Rick mumbled, still trying to remember where he had seen something like the funny look in Hamilton’s eyes.

“Quite simple, in fact. You, Mr O’Connell, are the one who killed the Scorpion King, so we figured it would be a good thing to have you on hand when I claim his army, if only to make sure you don’t end up with it. Now, as for Mr Carnahan… Let’s just say that as someone who entered and got out of the Pyramid of Ahm Shere, you are what I could familiarly call an added bonus.”

“Goodness me, I’m flattered,” said Jonathan, sarcastic. “Now, there’s something I’d like to know. Why did you pick me and not somebody useful like my sister? She’s the real specialist, you know.”

“Beside the fact that, through Ferguson here, you were the one who led us to the Diamond of Ahm Shere? Well, I imagine that you just were in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Jonathan looked down at his shoes, his hands in his pockets. “Yes… Well. Story of my life, really.”

Something suddenly clicked into place out of nowhere in Rick’s mind. That look. Hamilton’s. That curator guy – Hafez or something – had had the same back in the pyramid, when Rick had walked past him on his way to murdering that bastard Imhotep and the bitch who had killed his wife. The curator had his hand stuck in the statue of a scorpion at that moment, and there had been triumph and something else, something wild in his eyes, so utterly convinced he was that his ‘Lord Imhotep’ would ‘take command’.

Rick suddenly felt sick. Hamilton was just as utterly convinced that he would be doing the right thing in murdering thousands, tens of thousands of people, innocent or not. Anubis’ Army aside, the sheer thought of someone capable of thinking like that was scary. No, not scary. It was terrifying as hell.

Hamilton looked at them and said, ever so polite, “Well, gentlemen, it has been a pleasure talking with you, but there is some business I must take care of. Good afternoon, and be sure we will be seeing one another in the near future.”

He walked over to the door, with a brief glance at Ferguson who dithered, his brown eyes shifting from Jonathan to Rick, his broad face looking a little green around the edges. “Well, Ferguson! Should I lock you up here as well?”

“N—no sir, I’m comin’,” the Englishman stammered in a strained voice. He walked out first, without looking back.

As Hamilton crossed the threshold, Rick, unable to stop himself, said hotly, “What makes you think we’re gonna let you do that? There are people out there whose only job is to protect the world from creeps like you, and I really don’t wanna be in your shoes when my wife gets to you.”

Hamilton let out a low chuckle.

“And what makes you think I’m going to allow myself to be stopped?”

.⅋.

dun dun duuun

1Giving white feathers to men of fighting age not wearing uniforms on British soil during WW1 was a thing. It was supposed to call them cowards in front of everybody and shame them into enlisting. Naturally – beside the obvious – it had all sorts of unexpected downsides, and quite a few young veterans with honourable discharges and wounds that weren’t obvious received white feathers and were understandably pissed off about it. Plus all the men who couldn’t enlist because they had disabilities or jobs that just couldn't do without them.

2 Prijátelʹ (Russian): Friend, mate, buddy

Not gonna lie, the scene where Hamilton explains his plan and his motivations was a big source of stress for me. I’ve wanted to rewrite it – or parts of – for years, because I wanted to make it clear that he had to be stopped (because 1] his plan is basically “wipe out Germany to stop Nazis” and 2] it’s a bad idea to mess with dark magic anyway since you never know whether you’ll really be its master or not), but also that hell yes Nazis are the worst, and the fewer of them the better. Hopefully I succeeded.

#Fairy Tales and Hokum #fanfiction #my stuff #the mummy #the mummy films

1 note · View note

otnesse · 5 years ago

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Got banned from All the Tropes for a year at the very least (and knowing DocColress, he's probably going to bump it up due to his being an intolerant leftist). Won't matter at this point since he's made up his mind, but I'll definitely address some bits about his response regarding whether or not Maleficent is a Complete Monster or not, same goes for Frollo.

"(Like, from a moral standpoint, Hugo crushing on Djali is nowhere near as heinous as every atrocity Frollo committed, including absolutely wishing to rape Esmeralda no matter how much you try to deny that to yoursel and to others. And never did I say Satan didn't qualify; many versions of him do, and the original New Testament version of him is still cited.)"

The New and Old Testament versions are one and the same, actually. And when you claim the Old Testament version's not a Complete Monster, that essentially means he's not one in the New Testament, either. God wrote both. And going back to the Frollo bit and Hugo/Djali, 1. God would beg to differ there, since he specifically said, and I quote, "A man shall not lie with another man as with a woman, for it is an abomination". Leviticus 18:23, I believe. If anything, God most certainly would have considered it far more heinous than what Frollo did, and would be even more disgusted that it was one of Notre Dame's gargoyles doing that. 2. Frollo did not wish to commit rape. One of my biggest pet peeves is the whole redefinition of rape that's going on now, with the whole Kavanaugh hearings and how he's falsely accused of being a rapist couple years back and currently. He did wish for her to be his bride, and he DID intend to coerce her into marrying him, which is undoubtedly bad, but that is absolutely NOT the same thing as rape (any more than the whole blackmail scheme Gaston concocted in Beauty and the Beast). Want a 100% definition of rape, successful or attempted? Look at the scene where Josey is sexually assaulted by her teacher in North Country. Not even Frollo ever got that close (besides, I can name plenty of other Disney villains predating Frollo who DID attempted rape, like Ursula from The Little Mermaid [especially going by her "so long, lover boy" comment to Eric], or Jafar when wishing to have Jasmine fall in love with him [which would necessarily entail robbing Jasmine of her free will and fall for him via hypnosis].).

"And yet Frollo still has a more apalling rapsheet of vile deeds than Maleficent. Maleficent's villainy is bog standard fairy tale evilness in comparison to Frollo."

Actually, two of Maleficent's crimes entailed Child Murder (and yes, her death curse on Aurora was indeed intended to be child murder. She wouldn't have sent her goons out to track down Aurora's hiding spot for the intervening sixteen years for what was implied to be a constant search if she solely intended to wait out the years) and Mind Rape (the whole scene with Prince Phillip, which BTW was based on a scene involving Queen Grimhilde in Snow White, and it was certainly considered sufficiently heinous enough for Merriweather to nearly blow the fairies cover to try and get at her), which more than went beyond Bog Standard villainy. And he ought to know, because he recently added those bits to the Complete Monster Criteria.

"If we don't see all the evil she committed not related to Aurora or Philip, then that Mistress Of All Evil thing is an Informed Attribute."

Not really. This is more like the Galactic Empire and the Emperor in Star Wars, where we don't actually see their crimes (Alderaan nonwithstanding), yet it's still very clear they were heinous despite technically lacking on-screen atrocities. And for the record, Palpatine in the Original Trilogy still qualifies as a Complete Monster despite a complete lack of on-screen atrocities that can be firmly applied to him (No, Alderaan doesn't count as an atrocity by Palpatine, since the original movie made no indication on whether the Emperor actually ordered for the attack, and the Expanded Universe has been iffy on whether or not he did or did not do so, and if anything, the Foster novelization would point against it being the Emperor's wishes due to Vader having to step in and tell Tarkin that the Emperor needs to be consulted first, only for Tarkin to arrogantly refuse.). And considering the whole reason she was not invited to the party was specifically because of her evil nature, it's pretty clear her Mistress of All Evil title was not a mere informed attribute. Besides, The Evil Queen barely had any atrocities under her belt that didn't relate to Snow White, yet she still firmly qualified for trying to arrange for Snow White to be buried alive, so that's yet another fail on that argument.

"And Queen Grimhilde is made the leader of the Disney Villains just as often - ever seen Fantasmic?"

Yeah, and considering Grimhilde's explicitly considered a Complete Monster on here, I fail to see how that disqualifies Maleficent. Actually, if anything, the fact that Grimhilde ties with Maleficent as the leader would strongly suggest that Maleficent DOES qualify as a Complete Monster.

"I fail to see how a guy who murders,"

Evil Queen murdered people, and last I checked, trying to inflict a death curse on a baby, not to mention trying to kill Phillip nearing the end does count as murder. Heck, Ursula also tried to commit murder, as did Gaston, Jafar, and even Prince John and Ratcliffe (and let's not forget Scar either), and that's not even counting the later additions. If he's really going to claim that has him stand out compared to most Disney villains, let alone Maleficent, that's really reaching here.

"attempts outright infanticide (kill the baby AS A BABY rather than curse the baby to die when she's grown up to be 16),"

In case DocColress had forgotten, the 16 years old bit was meant to be the deadline, meaning the very last possible moment of fulfilling that curse. And Maleficent did not willingly wait that long. That scene where she congregates and punishes her minions was meant to show she was in fact spending the past sixteen years issuing a manhunt for Aurora, with it being very clearly implied that had she found her MUCH earlier, like when she was two days old or even a week old, she would have made sure the curse was fulfilled long before then (meaning, yes, she most certainly intended to kill Aurora as a child, and only failed to do so thanks to her minions' incompetence. Not to mention it's implied that despite Fauna's claims that she doesn't understand love, she actually understood it enough to quickly realize it to be a threat to her plans. She wasn't just sitting on her butt waiting for her to become 16 and doing nothing, which is what that statement DocColress would imply.). There wouldn't have even been a point to that scene if she were merely content with wait out the curse, sitting around and doing nothing. If in fact she DID just sit around, wait, do nothing to even get intel on Aurora, let alone issue a manhunt against her, then yes, that won't be qualification for being a Complete Monster.

"abusive parenting,"

For goodness sakes, even Lady Tremaine was guilty of abusive parenting, and she failed to qualify as a Complete Monster (and that's not even counting King Triton who's parenting of Ariel in The Little Mermaid was a LOT less than stellar, even blowing up her grotto out of rage for going good Samaritan over a human, and he's one of the good guys.). When even one of the good guys (who BTW obviously can't qualify as Complete Monsters) is guilty of this, that's definitely not even close to being enough to qualify in Frollo's case. Besides, Frollo's actually a better father figure to Quasimodo than the Dursleys were to Harry Potter, and THEY failed to qualify (certainly Uncle Vernon Dursley failed, and he's the least sympathetic of all of them, as even Petunia and Dudley at least reformed to some extent).

"controlling tactic and gaslighting,"

King Triton and Lady Tremaine were guilty of controlling tactics as well, last I checked, they failed to qualify (and Triton's one of the good guys), and don't get me started on Gaston or even Jafar regarding controlling tactics. And as far as gaslighting, Ursula and even Mother Gothel were exceptionally guilty of gaslighting (the former via the whole Poor Unfortunate Souls sequence as well as her stunt as Vanessa, and the latter via her entire relationship with Rapunzel, especially the song "Mother Knows Best"), and last I checked, they failed to qualify as Complete Monsters (personally, I'd probably consider Ursula a Complete Monster even WITH her genuinely caring for Flotsam & Jetsam, especially when genuinely caring for their closest minions didn't exempt Voldemort or Volgin from the trope, but whatever).

"attempted genocide,"

Maleficent was guilty of that in Maleficent Returns (and before anyone claims that she relented, let me point out that she ultimately only did that because 1., she can't actually turn Aurora into a statue thanks to the Three Good Fairies's defenses on her being stronger than her spells, 2., she ultimately had a self-serving reason that proved beneficial to her alone, and that was so she could exact revenge on Phillip, and 3., keeping one's word isn't exactly enough to disqualify them from the trope. Joker from Dark Knight is notorious for "keeping his word", yet he's a complete monster, same goes with President Snow in Hunger Games, even WITH President Coin proving to be an even worse monster than Snow.). That if anything reinforces why Maleficent counts as a Complete Monster. Besides, Ursula's little con-game that results in the stealing of souls most likely would come close to genocide, or at least mass murder, and she failed to qualify.

"torture,"

Maleficent also used torture on her own henchmen for failing her (and last I checked, zapping people with lightning isn't exactly pleasant and comes a lot closer to torture than mere abuse.). If he's going to claim she fails to qualify merely because she zapped them with lightning instead of killing them, DocColress will going to have to discount that with Frollo since he didn't kill the previous captain of the guard either. No one can have it both ways.

"lust and attempted rape,"

Gaston and Jafar were both guilty of lust as well. That didn't qualify them in the slightest. And quite frankly, Frollo's actions were more coercion than actual attempted rape, so that's not enough (and besides, Gaston did the exact same thing in Beauty and the Beast, and he still failed to qualify). And quite frankly, Jafar and Ursula came far closer to actual attempted rape with their planned third wish and Vanessa stunt, respectively. Heck, King Stefan in the awful Maleficent movie half a decade ago came far closer to attempted rape than Frollo did when he sheared off Maleficent's wings (and yes, it's been made clear by the guys in charge that that scene was specifically meant to highlight rape).

"mass arson,"

Maleficent also was guilty of mass arson as well (or had DocColress forgotten about her torching the immediate area during her final battle with Prince Phillip), and besides which, Prince John committed mass arson on his own castle as did Sherriff of Nottingham just to kill Robin Hood, and that failed to qualify him.

"religious hypocrisy,"

Well, okay, I'll give DocColress that one, at least regarding Disney villains.

"abuse of power,"

Ah, King Triton did a LOT of abuse of power, as did Jafar. Neither of those guys qualified as Complete Monsters.

"and attempted murder of the lowest kind"

Ah, attempted murder of the lowest kind is kind of a stock bit for many villains in fiction, let alone Disney villains. Heck, if anything, Ursula's attempt at killing Ariel literally seconds after making a deal with her father to spare Ariel's life (not to mention the other daughters) was actually an even lower form of attempted murder than Claude Frollo's attempt EVER was.

"fails to stand out compared to a generic fairy tale villain, but that might be just me. And several other people."

Nope, just DocColress and maybe GethN7 (who, BTW, also agreed that Maleficent most certainly did count as a Complete Monster). I can name a few people who definitely didn't think of her as generic and failing to stand out. Like, I don't know, StargateBB, or KillRoy231, or Eszterrrka, to name a few. And when we've got people who did rigged deals to rob people of their souls, being the epitome of evil, among others, yeah, he does ultimately fail to stand out. I go by the sheer scope of villainy, and let's face it, Maleficent and Ursula alone committed FAR worse crimes than he did, with or without powers.

""Can it and include her as well?" You mean include Maleficent, as though you're forcing me at gunpoint to include a character you personally think is an example? Yeah, that will absolutely not fly here. Consider yourself blocked indefinitely."

No, if I wanted to force DocColress at gunpoint, I would have been a LOT more threatening in my tone toward him. Also, not just my personal example, also some others thought she qualified as well when I pointed it out to them. And quite frankly, if I were to strictly go by those I personally thought as an example, I would have tried to list Solid Snake, The Boss, and Zeno as Complete Monsters and even claim that Zeno was even worse than Zamasu with his Tournament of Power business. Yet I didn't, and in fact, I took it a step farther and made sure they were listed as excluded from the trope largely because they're depicted as good guys DESPITE personally viewing them as complete scumbags. I think the fact that I not only tried to avoid listing Zeno as a complete monster even with the Tournament of Power, but also went out of my way to make sure he was listed as someone who should NOT be listed on the trope in the first place, despite clearly having nothing but complete disgust for the character even with the ending of that saga sort-of redeeming him should be a pretty big hint that my adding Maleficent in had NOTHING to do with whether I personally thought she was a Complete Monster. Heck, if anything, I viewed her as being one of Disney's best villains, and she still qualifies despite her being very well-written as it was.

"She's the worst that her story and setting has to offer for sure, but when her worst deeds are cursing a newborn princess to die in 17 years time, forcibly mentally manipulating that princess to almost kill herself years later, and being sadistic towards the prince she's locked up,"

Yeah, and last I checked, the criteria indicated at least TWO moral event horizon crossings (three if we count the torture of her minions with lightning over their failure), and she MORE than met that criteria there. Not to mention had her minions found her when she was, say, 3 years old, she would have done that mental manipulation of her back then as well. Actually, scratch that, make that FOUR moral event horizon crossings that were beyond generic villainy as DocColress himself admitted.

"with the rest of her deeds being standard villainy such as abusing (but not even killing) her minions"

Ah, first of all, not even Claude Frollo attempted to kill his minions (Phoebus doesn't count, as he defected from Frollo and thus is NOT a minion by the time he issued the execution for high treason order.). In fact, other than Rourke, the only Disney villain who actually HAS tried to kill his minions was Ratigan (Ursula doesn't count as F&J's death was more Ariel's fault than Ursula's, not to mention Jafar clearly did not anticipate that Gazeem would be killed by the Cave of Wonders for not being worthy, and Ratcliffe's shooting John Smith doesn't count either since that was an obvious accident since he was aiming for Powahatan. In fact, the closest before Rourke ANY Disney villain got to deliberately killing minions was Scar with his "You won't get a sniff without me" lyric, and even that was left ambiguous as to whether he intended to get him shoved down a molten crevasse due to it coming over instantaneously, and it being left ambiguous as to whether he actually had any power over that). For goodness sakes, The Evil Queen, who most certainly counted as a Complete Monster, didn't even ATTEMPT to do anything to the Huntsman even after she learned he deceived her regarding killing Snow White, not even abuse him, let alone kill him. Second of all, I wouldn't call zapping her minions with lightning as mere abuse, if anything that's more like torture, which DOES qualify as being beyond standard villainy (and if torture qualifies as a reason to count Frollo as a monster, it sure as heck counts in Maleficent's case). Abuse would be more whacking her minions silly with her staff. So if anything, that's THREE instances of non-BOG Standard villainy she's conducted.

"and trying to kill ther heroes,"

She tried to kill Aurora when she was still a baby, death curse taking into account aging or not. That MORE than qualifies for non-BOG villainy, even if she was the heroine. Besides, technically, Phillip and Aurora AREN'T the heroes the story, it's the fairies who were that, so if anything, that makes her MORE of a qualifier than before.

"she doesn't really hit the necessary horrible vileness needed to qualify for this trope, especially when other, non-powered Disney Villains such as Frollo, Sykes, McLeach, and Rourke stand out in their villainy in ways far worse."

He mean "stand out in their on-screen villainy in ways far worse." And quite frankly, Maleficent already stood out for her villainy far more than Frollo, or heck, any of the other groups (otherwise, he'd be the head of the Disney Villains and NOT her or Evil Queen). And it's very safe to assume she's been guilty of far more crimes than Frollo, Sykes, McLeach, and Rourke were, probably doing their crimes as Tuesday material to reference a classic villain line. Heck, McLeach, Sykes, and Rourke aren't even listed as members of the Disney Villains Line, and Frollo's fairly low on the list.

Besides, going strictly by the actual crimes they've conducted, even if we are to ignore Maleficent for one minute, most of the Disney Villains, at least the ones who aren't Complete Monsters, managed to commit a lot more heinous crimes of various levels than Frollo did, barring MAYBE genocide. Gaston? He tried to threaten Belle with locking up Maurice in an insane asylum under trumped up charges if she didn't marry him, and had far less shame in coming up with that plan than Frollo did since he, you know, boasted the plan in front of the entire tavern (and it's obvious that Frollo did have some shame, as "Hellfire" wouldn't have happened if he didn't). Ursula? Aside from explicitly cursing many merpeople with rigged deals and stealing their souls (which quite frankly is even WORSE than just killing them and is a whole lot closer to genocide as it is), she also attempted to kill Ariel by zapping her with the Trident literally a second after Triton signed the deal to take Ariel's place despite being implied to have promised to not harm her/kill her ("Contract or not, I'll..."), while even the like of Frollo still made darn sure to honor his word and penance by even raising Quasimodo to adulthood (to say little about Ursula's little stint as Vanessa and how she was implied to have possibly raped Eric in that form after brainwashing him). Jafar? Well, aside from attempted murder of Aladdin after nearly getting the lamp, despite implicitly promising a reward minutes earlier, he also deeply considered being a Black Widower to Jasmine, robbed free will constantly, and also was considering using his third wish to essentially rob Jasmine's free will and make her his sex slave queen, and when the Genie refused, he accosted him and tried to force him to break that rule. Maleficent? Explicitly cursed a baby to die at a certain age, with there being quite a few hints that she wanted to make sure Aurora died LONG before the deadline was to occur, oh, and fled laughing in delirious joy without bothering to at LEAST allow for a way out of the curse or softening it (while even Frollo at least stayed his hand of killing Quasimodo after being talked out of it). It's actually kind of rich that they list Frollo as a Complete Monster and the worst of the Disney villains when, genocide aside, most of the non-Complete Monster villains when one actually bothers to stop and think about it had even WORSE crimes under their belt than Frollo did. If anything, Frollo WAS standard and flat (that's even one of the complaints about his home movie, that they watered down the themes significantly from the original book). Sure, he might have been more impressive than, say, Lady Tremaine, John Ratcliffe, and maybe Gaston if I'm feeling generous, but that's not exactly something to brag about since they're even LESS impressive. That's also one reason I'm not fond of how they did Frollo in the movie, since not only did they make him into a villain for no real reason other than to just have a villain, but they didn't even bother to make him evil enough for my tastes (I can assure everyone that Ursula, Jafar, Maleficent, and Scar were many levels worse than he ever could amount to in terms of overall villainy). Maybe if they depicted him more like, say, Phillipe Augustine from Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem, or even Barthandelus/Primarch Dysley from Final Fantasy XIII, or heck, even Agent Smith from the Matrix Trilogy, he genuinely could rival Maleficent in terms of sheer villainy, and thus certainly could qualify as a Complete Monster. But as it is, he really doesn't (ironically, the closest he ever got to truly qualifying was in Dream Drop Distance in Riku's scenario, and that's only because unlike in Sora's scenario or the film, he clearly was happy to go to Hell as he was shown laughing like a loon as he falls down).

And how on earth does Maleficent fail to hit all the necessary amount of vileness to fit in? Last I checked, the trope required two moral event crossings, which she has already done with Aurora and Phillip, and she tortured her minions for their failure (not merely abused, but tortured. Zapping them with lightning last I checked is torture, not abuse. Or maybe DocColress ought to claim Palpatine just "abused" Luke at the ending of Return of the Jedi, then? Or maybe that the French "abused" people with electricity during the French-Indochina wars?), so that makes three instances of a moral event horizon/heinous act. And quite frankly, I fail to see how Maleficent's a flat character. We know she's a sadistic psychopath who revels in doing carnage and clearly has a massive ego to her, which isn't the makings of a flat character. If she's a flat character, then Palpatine is a flat character as well, as well as the Joker and Kefka Palazzo, since they're not much different and they still qualified as Complete Monsters. The only way I could see how she might be considered flat is if she were thinking along the lines of how Hideo Kojima writes his villains (especially when Colonel Volgin by Metal Gear standards is pretty flat, as is Hot Coldman.). Other than that, she really isn't flat.

The only thing this whole thing proved is that DocColress is such a shill for Maleficent that he cannot envision her being a complete monster even when the evidence is far too obvious to discount.

EDIT: Okay, I did admittedly suggest reporting to GethN7 around the time he was in hot water if he didn’t add Maleficent in, but I wasn’t threatening him (if I were, I would have been a LOT more vicious about it based on prior experience of how people threatened me).

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