#and i had to be like. LISTEN. science rarely ever goes how lab does!!!
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caninecowboy · 2 years ago
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just got done for the day and i have a raging headache :/
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birdy-bat-writes · 4 years ago
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Damian Wayne - Civilian crime solver
Request: Could you do headcanons or a scenario about Damian with a friend or s/o that is really into mysteries and goes around investigating cases even though they're really in over their head? Bonus points for shenanigans. Thank you!
Of course, amazing Anon! Great suggestion! And hey, why do friends or lovers when we can do both?? ;) I hope you enjoy this!
A/N: Um… My Headcanons are basically just fanfictions with sentences that don’t flow into paragraphs. I split it into 2 parts. I Really liked writing this one though. I love Damian. This one came out kinda angsty though, sorry about that. But it has a sweet ending.
Part 2 here
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-       You met Damian when you both were in the sixth grade. He was quite the indignant 11-year-old. Unfortunately for you, this fellow was your lab partner for the year.
-       You noticed his distaste for most people, but he didn’t have it with you. You couldn’t have known at the time, but the reason for that was that you were the only person in the room Damian saw as someone of equal intellect. It was the way you were organized and level-headed. You were independent and self-sufficient.
-       Truth be told, the only major difference between your mindsets was that you weren’t as cocky.
-       Made sense though, since your mother was an environmental toxicologist. Your home was pretty full of science equipment since you could remember. You were always curious as a child, and of course your proud mother encouraged it and taught you bit-by-bit how to use the tools. You idolized her and your father, who passed away when you were younger.
-       Over the course of your partnership with Damian, you grew to tolerate each other, and then even enjoy each other’s company. By the time You were both 12, you had a pretty solid friendship.
-       You discovered this when he invited you over to his house for his birthday and his family nearly choked, had a stroke, or checked if you were a robot. He had to explain to you that he didn’t bring friends over very often.
-       “I made an exception for you because you are far closer to me than anyone else and I enjoy your company.”
-       You guys hang out all the time now and talk about personal stuff and just joke about things. It makes you really happy when Damian laughs. He often found himself thinking about how much more often he’s been doing it since he met you.
-       “Hey, what do you want to be when you grow up, Dames?”
-       “Well, I’d like to follow in my father’s footsteps.” You assumed that meant running Wayne Enterprises. You were half right.
-       “I want to be a detective.”
-       “Really?”
-       “Yeah, like my dad was.”
-       “He’d be proud of you.”
-       You had a love for forensics and special permission from your chemistry teacher to use the advanced chem lab after school. You were her TA after all, and Damian used that time to sit with you and chat while you worked.
-       “Y/N, what are you analyzing?”
-       “Um… It’s a mud sample.”
-       “From?
-       “The Gotham botanical gardens.”
-       “Why?” Why are you analyzing dirt from Poison Ivy’s crime scene from last night?
-       “Promise you won’t freak out?” He nodded. “I heard on the news that Poison Ivy was using monster plants to terrorize people. And they looked kind of like yellow trumpet vines you find a in the Gotham gardens. I was just checking the dirt for any chemicals that could have altered the plant growth.”
-       Damian was stunned and speechless. Something he experienced rarely, if ever. “Y/N, messing with this stuff is dangerous. maybe you should let Batman and the GCPD handle this.”
-       “Come on, Dami. Please don’t say that. I want to do this; I want to help people. If I figure this out first, I can tell the GCPD.”
-       “I’m just worried for your safety.” He couldn’t deny that your work was brilliant, but he couldn’t let you put yourself in harm’s way either.
-       “I’ll be safe, I promise.”
-       He ultimately told you it was alright with him if you were careful. What he meant by that was that he was going to spy on you and keep you away from any and everything that was dangerous.
-       Robin would follow you to your house from the shadows to make sure you got home safe and Damian would check in with you on your files. As your determination to solve cases increased, his desire to ask you why increased as well.
-       “I just think it’s fun, Damian.” Wow you were a bad liar.
-       “There’s more to it.”
-       “What?”
-       “Why are you actually doing this?”
-       “Because I want to.” You were sterner this time. Damian noticed and decided to drop it for now. He offered to walk you home like he usually did but you declined.
-       That night, you decided to investigate a lead you didn’t tell Damian about. It led you an abandoned building in old Gotham. You were scanning the second floor for anything out of the ordinary until you heard a voice approaching from the corner.
-       You ran into the nearest room and hid. The voices were getting closer. “Falcone wants this job done tonight. Don’t f*** up.” You were terrified.
-       Suddenly, your mouth was covered by a green gloved hand. You wanted to yell but you heard him shush you. You turned quietly to meet eyes with a domino mask. It was Robin. You didn’t have enough time to process everything that happened but at the end of it all you ended up on the sidewalk next to an ambulance and police cars.
-       Deciding you had enough for one day, you headed home.
-       The next day at school you seemed quiet and so did Damian. At the end, you walked over to Damian to ask if he wanted to hang out.
-       “Not at the lab.”
-       “Okay… we can watch a movie if you want.”
-       “Alright.”
-       “Cool. I’ll just go get my stuff.” He saw you walking in the direction of the lab and something sparked in him. He stopped you.
-       “I’ll get it.”
-       “What? I can get it. It’s fine.”
-       “Just stay here, Y/N.” He was a bit too curt for your liking.
-       “Don’t tell me what to do.”
-       “Just listen to me for once.”
-       “Why are you being like this?!”
-       It turned into a yelling match. Damian’s emotions got the better of him and it ended with a “You could have died last night!”
-       Tip of the hat to him *clap* *clap*. That’s how you found out he was Robin.
-       It made sense really. You shared a heartfelt conversation about how he trusted you but he didn’t want you getting hurt. He knew what it was like out there and he couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to you.
-       You promised to keep his secret and he made a compromise with you; you could help him with forensics for his cases with Batman as long as you never went out into the field.
-       Then you went an watched the movie you wanted to.
-       “Hey Dames, I need to tell you something.” He turned his head to you. “You had asked earlier why I was so obsessed with the cases… my dad died investigating Falcone’s drug cartel. I guess got a bit too into it… I just thought you deserved to know.” You shared a look of sympathy and for the first time in your friendship, he hugged you. It held for a while, but it wasn’t awkward, just comforting, as if you both said that you were there for each other.
-       Skip to the point where your working with him and Batman was normal. Well… as normal as it could get. You and Damian blew the Batcave circuit breaker. Twice.
-       You would always get results before Bruce managed to figure out how. Tim liked you specifically because you could make Bruce look very confused.
-       You and Damian would pass notes in class in code about new information from cases. It started to make people gossip about you two. It didn’t help that you both always stayed back late together and showed up to class alone, before anyone else.
-       It began to scare people because Damian doesn’t bother to spend time with other humans but with you, he like?? Willingly?? Does it??
-       You would work late nights with the boys and keep track of how much sleep they each were getting. If anyone fell too short, you sent them up to bed. It actually backfired on you once because you were very sleep-deprived and didn’t want to admit it, so Jason picked you up and dragged you to your room in the manor while Tim and Dick smiled cheekily. “Oh, how the turntables.” ;D
-       Damian would sleep when you forced him, but he would still have his days. He believed he was above sleeping???
-       This boy refuses to admit he’s tired. Even when he looks like a jittery racoon. So, you bring him hot chocolate in the mornings, (courtesy of Alfred) with a hint of a lot of caffeine (courtesy of Tim).
-       Ever since you started spending so much time at the manor, you got much closer with Damian and his brothers. You felt a sense of family and care there.
-       Your favorite nights were the ones where your mom would let you sleep over and you would stay late in the cave working with Damian. The serenity of the cave and the faint glow of the computers always made it feel like some alternate plane of existence.
-       “Alright, Sherlock, you’ve been obsessed with this case for three days now. Let the computers do their work and take a nap.”
-       “Dami, I’m too ‘thinky’ to sleep.”
-       “’Thinky’?” you nodded and giggled at your superior use of vocabulary. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
-       You detected a hint of mischief in his voice and followed him up the cave staircase to the top of a ledge. He pulled a rope ladder out from behind the ledge and gestured for you to climb it.
-       You glanced at him once before hoisting yourself up and climbing onto the rocky surface. You looked up and the sight took your breath away. The ledge was a flat floor of the cave that overlooked the waterfall from the inside. If you looked down, you could see the dancing currents on the lower levels of the cave. The air was misty and cool, and you honestly had no idea that there was a view like this anywhere in the manor.
-       “You like it?”
-       “Its so beautiful.” You said, your voice full of awe. Damian sat down on the floor, against the cave wall and patted the ground next to him. He wanted to say something. Just regular makings of conversation, like the ones you always had. This time, for the first time, he felt like he didn’t know what to say to you, so opted to look at you.
-       The way the water reflected light on the cave walls made patterns of hazy light. The glow hit your skin and made your eyes sparkle. For the first time since he had met you, Damian saw you in a completely new way. He didn’t understand it, but he wasn’t opposed to it either.
-       You broke the silence with, “You know, ever since I met you, and your family, I’ve never been happier.”
-       You looked back at him. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel butterflies and fireworks all at once.
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dalekofchaos · 4 years ago
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The Fireflies’ vaccine wouldn’t have worked or why Joel did the right thing
In the last part of The Last of Us, Joel kills all the fireflies and saves Ellie but by doing so he may have doomed humanity by ending the possibility of a cure being made, making the ending bittersweet and morally ambiguous. The thing is, Joel didn't really do anything wrong, and saving Ellie was the right choice, here are my reasons:
The doctors would remove Ellie's brain to try to create a vaccine, but that's not how vaccines works, a vaccine is a tamed version of a pathogen that "teaches" your body to defend against it, to do a vaccine you need to use the pathogen in small quantities or a modified version of it, Ellie is immune to it, you don't create vaccines from the immune system, that's called a serum, and it works differently, a serum is used when someone comes in contact with a disease and it contains a series of antibodies that fight the infection, but it doesn't make anyone immune. So what they were trying to do was pointless;
Even if the doctors know what they were doing, it was a wild shot a with no guarantee that it would work;
Even if a vaccine was successfully made they wouldn't save the world, the world was destroyed 20 years ago, society collapsed and was rebuilt again on a new way, and everyone already new how to deal with it, also the greatest threat were not even the cordyceps fungus anymore, it was the infected (that the vaccine couldn't do nothing about) and the crooked humans that walked the earth. Besides that, the fireflies had no way to distribute the vaccine worldwide, not even in a national level.
If you listen to the tapes in the Colorado segment, it pretty much confirms that Ellie is not unique and they wouldn’t be able to make a vaccine anyway. The doctor has practically lost his mind and Ellie is just his white whale. Ellie was not the first subject and she most likely wouldn’t have been the last. 
The doctor pretty much went against the common ethical code of all medical practitioners just for a CHANCE at a vaccine/cure.  
And wouldn't it take a lot of time to study her? A day to do all the tests is outright impossible. Just look at the corona vaccine. With all the tech the world has the biotechnologists are going to take more than a year to make a vac.
Vaccines for Fungal infections are nearly impossible and are a logistical nightmare.Even in today’s world,they can only be treated with antibiotics and anti-fungal medicine. They didn’t even bother with thoroughly researching Ellie’s blood and trying to extract the fungal specimen without killing her. The tests were blood samples and samples from the area where she was bit and then only cutting her brain open as THE LAST POSSIBLE USE for her, then when their step 1 was "lol just kill this incredibly rare specimen" I was shocked.
BTW, PS4 version actually removed a piece of paper that's available in all the other forms of the game. What is this piece of paper? Just the one that describes how they've tried this process dozens of times before and how they've NEVER gotten any useful info.
The Fireflies are terrorists. The Fireflies are terrorists, and not even competent ones. Here we go. We first hear of the Fireflies in credits, where they are taking credit for attacking the Federal Disaster Response Agency. Not a good start.The next time we start to see hints of them is through graffiti in the quarantine zone. What does this graffiti say? Fireflies will take it all back. That sounds great! Burn it all down. ...oh. That’s, uh, a little less great. Fucking die, pig. Um… Uh, that’s uh, not a great look here guys.And that goes on and on. The graffiti does not exactly inspire. All it does is get angry.Next time we see them, it’s when they literally bomb a checkpoint and supply truck, then begin firing wildly all over the place. This is straight terrorism. They don’t care if there is collateral damage, in fact, Joel gets injured in this scene.Then we meet Marlene, the so-called Queen Firefly. Injured and on the run, the military is slowly wiping them out. This leads to a line of dialogue that is absolutely hilarious. Marlene starts to preach about “We’ve been quiet. Been planning on leaving the city, but they need a scapegoat. They’ve been trying to rile us up. We’re trying to defend ourselves”Those are big words from someone who just bombed a checkpoint.This clearly shows us that Marlene cannot be trusted as a narrator. She has an agenda and is lying to Joel and possibly herself. And that despite how effective guerrilla tactics usually are, her group is still managing to get absolutely devastated. They are failing so badly that they have to recruit smugglers just to try to get Ellie out of the city.So begins the trek showing dead Fireflies at every turn. Downtown subway station? Dead Fireflies. The Capitol building? Dead Fireflies. Pittsburgh? Oh, let’s talk about Pittsburgh.Pittsburgh is a monument to Firefly failure. Pittsburgh was originally another Quarantine zone held together by FEDRA. So what happened here? Well, times got hard, and the Fireflies instigated a civil war or insurrection. This fighting lasted for months, with Fireflies lynching soldiers that they caught alone, burning soldiers alive after dousing them in gasoline, and FEDRA retaliating by executing Fireflies. FEDRA finally gave up and retreated from Pittsburgh, putting the Fireflies in control- and then it all fell apart. The people of Pittsburgh discover that the Fireflies had planned to move right into the space FEDRA had previously occupied. And so, after this was discovered, the Fireflies were driven out just like FEDRA had been. Only much faster, and with less fight. And now Pittsburgh is nothing but anarchy. People gunned down in the streets for nothing. Rooms full of bodies, clothes and shoes. Almost looks like after images of Dachau. Bravo, Fireflies. Excellent revolution.Next up, we meet Tommy, Joel’s brother, and disenfranchised Firefly. He worked for them for years, going all the way to Colorado for them. Somewhere along the way, he lost faith in them and left their cause. He doesn’t specify exactly why, but it seems he might have lost faith in their methods.Then we come to the University. This is where we really discover how incompetent the Fireflies actually are. One of the first notes you see at University is about a guy who is angry he got yelled at for falling asleep on guard duty. Real professionals. This same note indicates that while they’re still getting some supplies, it’s not enough for what’s needed, with gasoline being particularly short. The next note comes from a recording, telling us that they’re losing more guards, with the doctor clearly concerned about how much equipment and data will be lost if they have to move. The doctor even calls the Fireflies incompetent in this note. And then we have this genius.. That’s right. Bitten by his own lab monkey. Because he just had to set it free, rather than putting it down humanely. Brilliant work sir. Brilliant. He kills himself before turning though, but not before informing us that they hadn’t accomplished anything for over five years. And even that small breakthrough was ultimately a failure. And now the entire lab is compromised, and abandoned.And then there’s a long break from Fireflies until Salt Lake. Ellie, having just gone underwater, isn’t breathing. Joel attempts to perform CPR on her when our hero Firefly shows up, and knocks Joel unconscious. Ah, violence. The first solution. Willing to forgive it, since it strongly mirrors the scene with Sarah, only the Firefly is in the soldier’s shoes this time. But still. Military was gentler.And now for the hospital. The final failure of the Fireflies. This is where so many people are convinced that Joel screws the world by preventing a vaccine. But somehow, I just don’t think so. This is one last desperate bid by the Fireflies for control. How do they intend to do this? Comprehensive bloodwork? No. Vigorous testing with laboratory animals, like, oh, maybe monkeys? No, someone let all their monkeys go. Crack open her head and hope for the best? Hell yeah! Does the fact that they’ve lost their biologist concern them? Nah, it’ll be fine! Does the fact that this is the only time they’ve seen immunity to this degree even give them pause? Pfft, crack her open! Does the fact that there has never been a successful vaccine against fungus give them pause? PASS THAT SCALPEL! No need to think this over, let’s blow our whole load on this once in a lifetime lucky strike as fast as possible. No, I’ve never heard the story about the goose who laid the golden eggs, tell it to me after I finish butchering surgery. Even if we make this vaccine, how will we deploy it? You're thinking too hard, hand me the saw!This is just bad science. Done by bad scientists. Cheered on by fools. Fools who wanted to murder Joel after he made that long trip.And for people who insist on government and democracy, it’s funny how they didn’t risk telling Ellie their “plan” and just sedated her and rushed her to the table.
Even by SOME MIRACLE they managed to make a vaccine, the world ain't gonna automatically return to what it was. It's a dog eat dog world and that is the new normal. Infected, cannibals, more psychos like David and raiders are still there and it ain't going away soon or maybe ever. On top of that, mass production and distribution of a vaccine is an absolute logistical nightmare in a post apocalyptic world- they simply don't have enough resources for that. And who's to say The Fireflies wouldn't use it to as a bargaining tool to put everyone, willing or not, under their new rule? And even given all that, they debated killing Joel after he delivered Ellie. He did the job and the payment he received was getting knocked out and being marched outside of the safe zone AT GUNPOINT WITHOUT HIS WEAPONS AND SUPPLIES! The Fireflies broke their deal and fucked Joel over. Joel had ever right to kill them and save Ellie.
So I believe what Joel did in the end was the right thing, the fireflies was an extremist group that was willing to do anything not to save the world, but to prove their point, even kill an innocent girl under a delusional precept. 
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andersunmenschlich · 4 years ago
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Episode 13: Alone
All right! Finally I've managed to make time for another episode.
The title is promising. But... uh. We're getting another person talking now. Yeah, I'm not entirely comfortable with this. Bad enough there were all those background characters hanging around the archive, now we're hearing other people direct? And on an episode with a title like this, too!
I'm annoyed. This isn't what I was looking forward to. And Naomi Herne doesn't strike me as particularly polite, either. What, may I ask, is wrong with tape recorders? I quite liked recording things on tape when I was growing up.
...Ooh, interesting.
Looks like they started off trying to do the recording on something a bit more up to date than a tape recorder, and it didn't work.
I like that. I like that very much.
And it's fascinating that the head archivist is taking her statement himself! "I can have it transcribed later"? How very odd. Why not just have her write it down? Isn't that what they've been doing for decades? And even now: the statement-givers write things down, the assistants research and verify, the archivist makes an audio recording and files everything neatly. At least, I got the impression that that's how it's supposed to be done. So what is this? Surely nothing could possibly have been confirmed yet—the statement hasn't even been given!
It's untidy. I don't like it. Naomi Herne shouldn't be talking to Jonathan Sims, it doesn't make sense. Shouldn't she be talking to the receptionist, what's the name... Rosie? Isn't Rosie the one who takes the statements in usually?
I feel like we're missing a buffer, and it's both unsettling and extremely interesting.
So.
Naomi Herne is here to tell the Magnus Institute about something that happened after her husband's funeral. And aha! Finally!
It's about time we learned when this podcast is happening. That's been niggling at me for twelve whole episodes now. "The date is the thirteenth of January, 2016." Awesome. So the first statement was transferred to tape at the end of 2015 or the beginning of 2016. I wonder how many they do a day, and whether they work weekends. It'd be pleasantly tidy if they recorded one statement to tape a day, every day. I'd like that.
Naomi Herne says the thing that happened was weird and inexplicable given her current knowledge of the world she lives in, and that she probably imagined the whole thing. Somehow I suspect she doesn't believe that at all, but would like to make herself believe it if she can.
...And Mr. Sims interrupts.
You know, I really don't like having more than one person here. It's an innovation I’m not particularly enjoying.
In any case, Jonathan Sims tries to leave, Naomi Herne wants him to stay... I don't understand either person here. Is there really a point to giving someone privacy while they make a statement that's going to be listened to and copied down and researched and so on by a whole team of people? What's the reasoning behind that thought? And, on the other hand, why would you not want to be alone?
Maybe it's growing up in a house with thirteen other people (nine siblings, two parents, two grandparents), but it seems to me that being alone is a rare and wonderful thing. You know I didn't even have my own bedroom until my late teens?
If someone is willing to leave you alone, in my opinion, you should be delighted.
Jonathan agrees to stay while Naomi gives her statement. Hopefully this won't lead to more conversation. I suppose we'll see.
Apparently Naomi Herne, like me, works at being a bit of a blender. Average, unnoticeable, overlooked—like the paint on a wall, something nobody really looks at or thinks about. A good choice if you want to get things done without being constantly interrupted by people wanting to chat or hang out or party or know what you're doing in a restricted area or who knows what all else.
Unlike me, however, she says she "did get a bit lonely sometimes," which I can't say I ever have. While it might seem useful to have friends as a sort of social camouflage, they're such a demanding form of camouflage that in practice it isn't actually worth it.
She says a Pastor David seemed worried about her comfort with her own company. Well, at least he was the only one.
Honestly, who worries about a thing like that?
[sarcastically] Ooh, it's not natural for people to live in isolation, humans are creatures of community by nature. Next I'll be hearing how I'm not human and don't really count as a person (again). Perhaps the definition of "human" ought to be expanded, hmm? Include some of those sentient, human-shaped beings who aren't, by nature, what people like Pastor David insist all humans are.
Well. Pastor David, according to Naomi Herne, was worried she might "get lost," whatever that means. Naomi says she thinks she knows what he meant by it—but for some reason she doesn't tell us! Inconsiderate. Eh, perhaps she'll do it later.
Naomi graduated from Leeds in 2013 with the highest possible honors degree in Chemistry.
I like chemistry. Seems like the closest you can get to alchemy in real life.
Anyway, she got a job as a science technician in Woking, near London, which is where she was applying for a better job—lab assistant in a biochemistry department at University College London—when she met someone named Evan, who was also applying for that job. Apparently she clicked with him. Got along with him so well, in fact, that she was happy to see him waiting for her outside the building after their interviews.
Of course, it couldn't stay this good. No. They had to start dating, and then living together, and then they got married, because everyone knows that's the natural progression when you actually get along with someone. No other flavors of relationship are valid (maybe not even possible).
Annoyance aside, Naomi Herne doesn't usually do relationships of this type. She says her past boyfriends left when they realized she wasn't all that thrilled about having them around, which seems like the polite thing to do, really.
This Evan, though, is basically her soulmate.
Despite the fact that he has a battalion of friends, and this ends up pulling her into having "what could perhaps be called a social life."
Doesn't sound particularly pleasant, but she says she didn't hate it, which I suppose I can almost see; it is easier to be around people when you have a trusted human buffer. And after Evan dies from a congenital heart problem, she stops hanging out with his friends and goes back to comfortably familiar solitude, which makes sense to me.
She did attend the funeral, though. It seems Evans had a very rich family, with their own personal mausoleum out at their mansion, Moorland House.
It was a very quiet funeral, and not a particularly friendly one.
Naomi says everyone there was wearing the same expression. Even the corpse. She doesn't say what expression specifically, though—just that it's hard and possibly angry. Oh, and finally we get a last name for her husband: he's Evan Lucas.
Huh.
They send her away to do the burial. That doesn't seem usual.
So she drives off in the pouring rain in the middle of a storm, which doesn't seem safe, and naturally enough she crashes.
It's not a melodramatic crash, though. She just plows off the road into a field and then sits there with her engine smoking and definitely not running, and realizes it's been five hours since she arrived at the Lucas place... oh, and she has no cell service (or GPS functionality) out there.
This means she has to walk. In the storm.
She gets so wet it wrecks her phone, which she finds infuriating, so she throws the useless thing onto the ground, where it breaks further, then bounces off the road and buries itself completely in the mud. She walks and walks and walks, crying and soaked through and very cold, until finally she collapses, at which point she notices that the rain has stopped and now she's surrounded by fog.
...Fog that seems to be following her. And gives her the feeling that it's malicious. And wants something from her. Well, now. That's interesting.
Uh.
And then she makes a point of saying there's no presence to it. Yeah, that makes no sense at all. Malice and desire aren't properties of nothingness! There has to be something present in order for it to want something from you.
"It made me feel utterly forsaken," she says, and in my experience it's always people who do that.
In any case, she gets up and starts to run down the road, hoping to reach the end. Instead she loses the path. It takes her a little while to notice that she's running on dirt and grass instead of tarmac. Once she does, she tries to backtrack, but can't find the road at all. So for some reason she decides to kneel down and check out the dirt, which is mist-damp but not rain-wet.
Ahaha, she went sideways, didn't she? This is delightful.
Whatever new dimension she's found herself in, it sounds most agreeable to me. No stars, no moon, no artificial lights, a night so dark you shouldn't be able to see—but you can. A shifting, slate-grey fog, skeletal trees, grass, dirt, old, abandoned gravestones....
If there were a sign saying "Stay, Wander Awhile," it couldn't be more welcoming than this.
In the center of the graveyard is a small chapel. According to Naomi Herne's description, "The top of its steeple was lost in the gloom and the windows were dark. There was stained glass in the windows, but without any light from inside I couldn't make out the design. Wrapped around the handles of the entrance was a sturdy iron chain."
At this point, for some reason, she starts shouting and screaming for help. I was prepared to be annoyed by this, but (wonder of wonders!) it's a sound-muffling fog. Oh, I like this place so much.
Naomi Herne, on the other hand....
This obnoxious individual continues yelling even after it's clear no one can hear her but herself, just to hear the noise. And then she goes looking for something to break a church window with because, inexplicably, she's decided being inside the church will keep the fog away from her. "Anything to get out of the fog"? Pardon me, Ms. Herne, but you're breaking a window, correct? It's just going to follow you in!
She also says "I was sure that eventually someone would find me," which isn't at all the impression I'm receiving from this dimension a step or two sideways from our own. Surely a place like this would keep you safe from everyone forever?
Whatever the case, she goes for a piece of stone that's fallen from one of the grave markers.
As she bends over to pick it up, though, she notices that the grave is empty. 
"The hole was neat, square and deep, as though ready for a burial. At the bottom was a coffin. It was open, and there was nothing inside. I backed away and almost fell into another open grave behind me. I started to look around the cemetery with increasing panic. Every grave was open, and they were all empty."
Ha. Well, it looks like someone missed the Rapture.
You know, if it weren't for the danger of being buried by sliding earth, I'd be tempted to climb into one of those empty coffins and take a bit of a nap.
—Oh. How prescient of me.
The fog starts pulling Naomi Herne, our statement giver, into that first grave. She says it began to weigh her down: "It coiled about me, its formless damp clung to me and began to drag me gently, slowly, towards the waiting pit."
Backing away, she slips on the damp ground and falls. Sliding towards the grave, she uses that heavy piece of stone as an anchor to keep herself out.
Hey, and she gets away! Well done, Naomi Herne.
Struggling to her feet, she suddenly notices that the chapel's doors are open now. The chain's just lying on the steps. Huh. Well, who or what did that? Hmm. Whatever the case, this looks like an invitation to me. But how inviting is the inside of this church? I practically grew up in churches, so they're as familiar to me as libraries (oh, all right: even more so). In my opinion, the least inviting church tends to be the one with the most worshipers in it.
Oh, but this church is very welcoming! It looks as though she's being invited to go deeper, further sideways, farther away from the world we know.
"Through that door, where the inside of the chapel should be, was a field. It was bathed in sickly moonlight, and the fog rolled close to the ground. It seemed to stretch for miles, and I knew that I could wander there for years, and never meet another."
Ahh, that's beautiful.
This is the kind of thing I take my midnight walks for. Hours alone in the mountains under the moon, while the wolves howl in the distance and the lights of the city fade....
Naomi Herne, however, doesn't seem drawn to it.
She turns away from the door—and nearly cries when she sees that beyond the graveyard's edge is that same field. You know, some people have all the luck and just don't appreciate it at all. Of course, I could be mistaken about this place. But I have the feeling a person wouldn't need to eat or sleep here; that physical needs would be optional. I could use that. I'm always acting as though I think they are, and then my body stops working properly. It's annoying.
Anyway, our statement-giver runs away from the field beyond the door and into the field beyond the cemetery.
It beats me why she's running.
Apparently this place doesn't see why she should run, either. "The fog seemed to be getting thicker, and moving through it was getting harder. It was like I was running against the wind, except the air was completely still. I could hardly breathe as I inhaled it."
Yes; that's because you're running. Slow down and everything should be perfectly fine.
Oh. How unexpected.
As Naomi Herne is running through this endless field in a world two steps to the side of our own, her dead husband's voice calls to her. "Turn left," he says. And she does.
Turning sharply to the left, she keeps on running. She runs out into the middle of a road in our world, and wham! gets hit by a car. "I remember a second of headlights, and then nothing until I woke up in the hospital."
...Wait. "I would suggest you leave the stone with us so we can study it"?
What stone?
Don't tell me she was running around carrying that heavy piece of headstone? Surely not. And then, what, whoever hit her decided to take the rock to the hospital as well? That doesn't make a great deal of sense. But I'm pretty sure that's the only stone that's been mentioned this entire statement which she could possibly have brought to the institute, so....
Mr. Sims suggests that Ms. Herne see a psychologist. Ms. Herne is offended. The tape recorder gets turned off.
See? There's a definite click when that happens. We'd know if Mr. Sims took a break to do research. ...Not that I've ever heard him recite any incantations either, though. Maybe it's his research assistants who can do the beholding spell.
They certainly seem uncannily good at getting their hands on information.
Whatever the case, Mr. Sims says research was done while the tape recorder was stopped. Evan Lucas died from heart failure 3-22-15 and his family handled the burial.
"All requests to the Lucas family for information or interviews have been very firmly rebuffed," which is impressive given how much data these archival assistants have been able to dig out of everybody else in the past twelve episodes. It's rare for people to refuse to talk to them, which I could put down to the use of some sort of magic—but won't, because I'm fairly certain I'm not magical and yet people are always telling me things about themselves even when I didn't ask.
Not that I'm not interested!
I'm always interested when a stranger comes up to me and strikes up a somewhat one-sided conversation which evolves into them telling me about their childhood, or fear of Alzheimer's so desperate they'd rather die than have their mind slip away from them, or why they decided to become whatever they are, or some such thing.
If I have to interact with people, well—I think listening to their deeply personal information is one of the best flavors of human interaction.
...Though I will admit that having people talk to me like this all the time has kind of confused my understanding of what things are supposed to be private.
In any case.
Naomi Herne got hit by a car at about one am March 31. The funeral was a week after the death, so that means Ms. Herne slipped sideways on the 29th, which means she was in that otherworld for a full day and change?
The person who hit her was named Michael Getty, and the place was "Wormshill in the Kent Downs," wherever that is. Her car was in a field five miles away.
She was concussed and dehydrated, but there's no mention of her having not eaten for a full day and then some, so either they're ignoring that or food really isn't necessary in fairyland. Though apparently liquids are, which is strange since she was surrounded by fog the whole time! Hmm. You don't think the moisture was coming from her own body, do you? Amplified, yes, enhanced somehow, but... the non-presence in the fog... it could have been her.
That would make a kind of sense.
You can't have things like malice or desire without something present to be malicious or desirous, yet she said "it wasn't as though there was another person there...." Yes, yes, that makes sense!
I hypothesize that, somehow, the part of Naomi Herne that likes being alone manifested semi-separately from the rest of her, sucking moisture from her body to surround her as a thick fog and guide her off at an other-dimensional angle into a world where she could be alone forever. The part of her that doesn't want to be alone was terrified by this, and that's why she ran.
That doesn't explain her dead husband's voice, though. What kind of solitary fairyland has the ghosts of other people in it?
Also, her husband had plenty of friends and was apparently just fine with people—I somehow doubt his heaven would look like that. So what the hey. I can't make sense of that at all.
Well. Back to Jonathan Sims.
Mr. Sims would like to dismiss the whole thing as a hallucination, but unfortunately for him, Naomi Herne was clutching a chunk of carved granite when Michael Getty hit her, and the unfortunate near-perpetrator of vehicular manslaughter apparently decided the woman and the rock were a set, so she was able to bring it to the Magnus Institute and show it to him.
It's got an engraved cross design, looks like it came off a headstone, and has one word on it that's probably from the marker: "Forgotten."
Jonathan Sims says it's going to artifact storage. You know, the Magnus Institute's artifact storage must be an interesting place full of some very weird things. I wouldn't half mind taking a look.
And the recording ends.
This is probably the last episode I'll be listening to for a while, since once I've got this piece of commentary saved in my Tumblr queue I'll need to box my laptop up and ship it across the country to myself. I've never moved my entire life quite this far before. It's proving to be a bit of an undertaking. Once I'm settled in, though, I want to come back to this.
The Magnus Archives is an excellent podcast. I very much want to hear more.
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ilovemyschool · 4 years ago
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Teaching through COVID???
Bless you if you actually make it to the end of this post, lol.
I teach high school science- specifically Chemistry and AP Chemistry.  I absolutely love teaching and I love my students.  I especially enjoy getting to talk to them about what they want to do when they graduate, where they want to go to college, what kind of jobs they want to do, and all of that fun stuff.  Finishing high school is an incredibly exciting time in life for a person, and I feel privileged to get to re-live the excitement and apprehension and hopefulness and all the other feelings that come along with having so many possibilities for your life laid out in front of you.  I don’t know any other kind of work that allows you to feel those feelings year after year like I get to through my students.  I also try to support them through the hard stuff.  I listen when they cry and tell me that they feel alone in a room full of people, I hug them (if they want a hug) when they tell me their mom moved out over the weekend, and I feed them and get them additional support when they tell me they are hungry and don’t have enough to eat.  I spend hours on tutoring, grading, and lesson planning outside of my “contract hours.”  It never bothered me because I knew I was doing something that mattered to my kids.  If you’ve never gotten to see a kid gain self-confidence in their own ability by practicing with you one-on-one- let me just tell you it’s magical.  When they know you’ll sit down and work with them again and again when it’s still tough for them, they can see that you believe they’re worth the time and effort, and they start to believe it too.  When you get a note from a student about how they never thought they’d be able to understand chemistry so well, but aced a state final exam or got a 4 or 5 on the AP exam, it feels like you’ve done more than teach them your subject- you’ve taught them to believe they can do hard things.  
I’m sick to my stomach right now, because I am so torn on whether to go back this year.  My students are set to come back in two weeks.  There are so many things going through my head and this has been whirling around for the past two weeks, so I’m writing it out.  To quit or not to quit.  That is my question.
To Quit:
*My district notified parents of the plan just two weeks ago at the same time as the teachers- teachers actually just got a quick email that said something to the effect of “oh hey- check out this stuff we’re sending to parents about next school year.”  
*Since they released their plan, I got in to see a doctor.  I have an autoimmune condition.  It’s not a big deal in general, just a pill everyday, but it does affect my risk- although in the grand scheme of immuno-issues, thankfully mine is on the low end of the COVID risk spectrum.
*The district’s plan is for all students to go back to school 5 days/week, unless they opt for the virtual option.  The hours will be shortened so that the district doesn’t have to do a deep clean at the 4 hour mark as would be required if we were in school for the usual 7 hours.  Instead, teachers will all teach 4 class periods and also have to teach an online class.  If you’ve never taught, teaching online is a whole separate thing, so even if you teach chem both online and in person, it’s likely that most of the time you’ll have to set up your lessons completely differently for the two.  It’s not a deal breaker, but it’s extra work for sure.
*Teachers are responsible for sanitizing the classrooms between classes, which means we’ll have to pee some other time, although every teacher is teaching all 4 classes, so we won’t have anyone available to cover us?  I guess they’ll figure that out?
*According to the FAQ document our principal sent out, if we are told to quarantine or isolate, we have to use our sick days.  If we go through our sick days or run out we can apply to the sick day bank.  They don’t say it in the FAQ, but once you’ve used up days, they dock your pay.  
*However, that might not actually be a problem, because in a virtual staff meeting they held on Friday, the assistant superintendent shared that the health department here is now defining “exposure” as 15 minutes or more within 6 feet of a person who has tested positive without a mask.  That means that we could be in the classroom with kids who later test positive for COVID for an hour and neither the teacher nor the parents of the other kids in that class would be notified or asked to isolate because we were all wearing masks and therefore were “not exposed.”
*Since all kids are going back at the same time, thats nearly 1800 kids (minus the ones who signed up to take all their classes virtually).  Based on early estimates, less than 20% are going to opt to go online.  There are no plans to stagger class changes, which means our hallways will be full- it will not be possible for students to social distance.
*Currently, I have a class with 33 students in one of my face-to-face classes.  That’s a fairly big class anyway, but in COVID, they’ll be packed in there.  It is not possible to keep that many kids 6 feet apart in my classroom.
*We are relying on parents to do temperature checks every day and keep their child home if their temp is 100.4 or above.  If you’ve ever taught, you know that while most parents are responsible with things like this, there are some that will send their child in no matter what because they have to work or (in some very sad situations) want the time to themselves.
*In our state’s official COVID school plans, they outlined “Required,” “Strongly Recommended,” and “Recommended” measures.  My district seems to be reading “Strongly Recommended” as “Not Required.”  This means that they are okay with us running labs, sharing equipment, and working in close proximity because they think that parents understand that if they’re sending their child to school, that they know their child will be in close proximity to others.  They say that parents know that their kids will be 2/bus seat anyway and that they’re going to have to be changing classes in a full hallway.  I’m not so sure I agree with that.  I think parents are probably very unaware of that because I think it would be reasonable for parents to think that the “Strongly Recommended” guidelines would be implemented.  I’m not a parent, but I think that I would assume that?  Unfortunately, things like 6 feet of separation, doing on-site temperature checks, and not sharing materials are in the “Strongly Recommended” category, which means the district will “do their best.”
*Our district’s Union President wrote a letter to the board on our behalf regarding the strongly recommended guidelines.  The superintendent was dismissive of those concerns, stating that schools in other countries saw negligible spread upon reopening, which is like comparing our shitty COVID apples to European oranges.  Shortly after his response, two other board members went on to praise the administration for putting together a “safe” plan and quickly approved it to send on to the department of education.  I wish that those board members would come and sit in our classrooms for the first few weeks of school.
*We won’t know which class(es) we’ll be teaching online until the week before (best case scenario), so we can’t prepare very much that is specific to our class until the week before school.  We won’t know our final schedule in general until next week.  To not know this with only a week and a half to go is insane.  My anxiety is in full gear.
*Financially, we could handle it if I don’t work.  
Not to Quit:
*I have one student who had me for a science class his freshman year, then requested to take my chemistry class during his sophomore year, and is signed up for AP Chem this year.  I don’t want to miss it.
*Lots of my former chem kids are signed up for my AP Chem class this year.  I’m newer to the school, but I’ve been really working on growing the AP Chem program.  We even had enough students sign up to make 2 sections of AP Chem this year, which hasn’t happened in a long time at this school.
*I don’t want to quit with only 2 weeks before school- granted, they just announced the district plans 2 weeks ago and in that time I’ve had to talk with my husband and family, consult a doctor, and look at our finances and upcoming expenses to gather the information I need to make a decision. However, with only 2 weeks left before kids are in my classroom, it would be extremely tight to hire and have someone in place for those kids.  I would hate to leave students in that spot where they might start school with a sub.
*I LOVE my classroom and my lab.  I put so much time into organizing and cleaning it out.  I decorated it really nice and made it super functional.  I would hate to have to move everything out- I doubt I’d ever have a classroom that epic again.  All my desks match, too!
*A bird in hand is worth two in the bush.  I have a job I really love at a school I like and with kids I like and it’s close to my house.  If I resign, they’ll have to hire someone else for my job, and I won’t get it back next year.  There is no guarantee that I get hired again next year at another school nearby either.  With budget cuts, who knows?
*In a new job, I could be teaching anything in the sciences- I love that I have a specifically chemistry teaching job.  Those are rare and hard to come by.
*One of the “Required” measures in the state’s plan is to wear a mask.  That’s helpful.  All students and staff will have to wear a mask unless they are medically exempt.
*I’m still youngish, especially by COVID risk standards.
*Maybe nothing bad will happen- hopefully it won’t and the year will go relatively smoothly and staff and students will stay healthy and get through unscathed.  If that ends up being how it goes, I’d regret resigning and second guess my decision.
*I would feel guilty for calling it quits when so many others don’t have the option and may be at higher risk than me due to age or underlying conditions or taking care of loved ones that are either older or immunocompromised.  I know so many teachers who have to work this year because their spouse/partner is unemployed, or they are the sole breadwinner for their family, or they are going to retire soon and need their income to stay high to maximize their social security benefits.  
*I don’t know how I’ll take it if I go from teaching full time to being a stay at home wife.  I did stay at home for a year when we moved to another state, and it was HARD on me.  I developed a bit of a depression, exasperated by some other things that were going on.  I got on medication and did some therapy and it eventually resolved, but that SUCKED.  I would really miss my students and my fellow teachers and having a clear purpose/mission for my days.  
In conclusion...
I’m not generally a hypochondriac or a “Nervous Nelly.”  Most stuff rolls off my back fairly easily.  This scares me.  I get the flu or an upper respiratory thing almost every year.  There’s no reason to think that somehow I’ll manage to miss COVID if it comes into our school.  I am beyond anxious about teaching in person with so few precautions being taken.  I’m also angry that my choices are to resign and lose the job I really want or to go in and feel anxious and angry about the lack of care and respect that teachers and students are being shown by district and building administration for the foreseeable future until COVID is over.  I have had a stress knot in my gut for the past two weeks over this stuff, and I highly doubt it’s going away if I decide to stay and teach.
Since the pandemic started I have stayed at my house with few exceptions over the summer.  I wear a mask when I go out, I usually use a pick-up option for my groceries, a drive-thru option for my pharmacy, and I just avoid gatherings.  We do occasionally see my in-laws and my parents, usually outside and observing social distancing. In my state restaurants can’t fill to more than 50% capacity and movie theaters are just plain closed, but schools are about to open at 100% capacity.  I honestly can’t imagine putting myself in an enclosed space with over 30 kids or into a hallway with close to 1800 of them.  Even more than that, I can’t imagine not sitting down at a desk next to them to help them or watch them work a problem to see what they’re thinking.  I can’t imagine not getting to hug the girl who’s mom left or sit with the boy who doesn’t feel connected with his peers so he comes up to sit with me and do his homework after school.  Even if I do teach this year, I worry that my kids won’t get what they need from me- whether that’s homework help or emotional support.
If you are so inclined, please send up a prayer for state leaders, school administrators, teachers/school staff, and students this year.  We could all definitely use some wisdom, some grace, and your good vibes.
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nadziejastar · 5 years ago
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I find reading headcanons fun and a lot of people interested in Lea and Isa who want to stay canon compatible go with the idea of "they were technically apprentices, but they were still used as test subjects." It just goes to show how important those implications were to their story, anyone invested is looking for a way to retcon them back in.
Yeah, I get why people wanna stick close to canon. I like to stay as close to canon as possible too, unless I feel like canon just absolutely dropped the ball, which is relatively rare. But that’s what I feel KH3 did with Lea and Isa. There were just FAR too many implications that they were test subjects to be hand-waved away so easily. I can totally understand why people are looking for a way to retcon those implications back in. They fit soooo perfectly and they were MUCH juicier than the canon backstory, which is really very boring.
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Unbeknownst to me, my six apprentices then began collecting a large number of subjects on which to perform dangerous experiments into the “darkness of the heart.”
I wouldn’t even know HOW to write Axel as a former apprentice, without being a former test subject, too. Because it just doesn’t fit him. You have to ignore everything interesting about him and change his whole character. When I first played KH2, I was always interested in the experiments on the darkness of the heart and especially what the organization members were like as humans. We only got to know a little about that. We learned that members I-VI were apprentices of Ansem the Wise, which I thought was very intriguing. I started to speculate about what the other members’ backstories might be.
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Are they the people who lost their hearts, or incarnations of darkness? Or something entirely beyond my imagination? All my knowledge has provided no answer. One thing I am sure of is that they are entirely devoid of emotion. Perhaps further study will unlock the mysteries of the heart. Fortunately, there is no shortage of test samples. They are multiplying underground even as I write this report. They still need a name. Those who lack hearts… I will call them the Heartless.
I am not even exaggerating, after reading the KH2 Ansem Reports, my first thought was that Axel was most likely a former test subject, due to the way he slaughtered Zexion and Vexen so mercilessly. He had a side to him that was rather…twisted. And I thought that was so fascinating. No way in hell do I believe he acted like that because he was trying to find some girl. No. He had a HUGE grudge against the organization which was very personal.
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The only other organization member I thought might have been a former test subject was Saïx. Number VII. The first one to join after the apprentices.
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And the reasons for that were obvious. He was freakish, like a science experiment. He was a werewolf/vampire type character with a large scar on his face. I have talked with people online about Axel’s apprentice backstory who said that they “saw it coming”. It was foreshadowed in advance. And I’m like, “Did we play the same games?” If anyone says that they thought Axel and Saïx made more sense as apprentices than test subjects, I simply do not believe them. I think they are either lying or they are such a fanboy/fangirl that they cannot bring themselves to question canon.
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THIS is what always stood out to me about Axel in Days. He said very little about himself. It seems like most of the fandom latched onto Axel as this happy-go-lucky big brother figure who “adopts” Roxas and Xion and that was the extent of his character. Personally, I was always far more interested in Axel’s past. That’s what really made him an interesting character. Without that, he’s a bit flat, honestly.
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When I played Days, it seemed to confirm my suspicions that Axel had a dark past.
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The way the camera zoomed in on him when he mentioned his past said SO much. It was so subtle, but so dramatic. They obviously were hinting at something. 
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And it even involved Saïx, too. They really were BOTH test subjects. How fascinating, I thought.
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Then I played BBS, and it showed them sneaking into the freaking castle! I was so excited! OBVIOUSLY these kids were experimented on. They were in the right place at the right time. It explains why they became organization members. It explains why Saïx is so…freakish even though when he was a kid he was so cute and normal. I mean, come on!!!! How could anyone not see what they were hinting at here? I was SO SO excited for TEN years to see their backstory.
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When I played KH3, I was dumbfounded. Absolutely dumbfounded. Turns out Lea and Isa were connected to the experiments on the darkness of the heart (duh). But they weren’t the test subjects. It was Skuld. Ya know, that random NPC from KHUX? That’s right. Skuld.
Skuld!? Are you freaking kidding me!? All the spotlight is gonna be on her as the lab rat!? After all the subtle hints that Lea and Isa were experimented on? I felt like I had been led on and betrayed by the series. I was so sad and angry. KH has a lot of, well, bullshit in it. Like Ansem the Wise turning Kingdom Hearts into data and releasing everyone’s hearts. And it has a lot of retcons. It’s a series where “willing suspension of disbelief” is important. But what they did to Lea and Isa’s past? That crossed the line for me. That was unacceptable. And my willing suspension of disbelief was shattered. I simply cannot retroactively view Lea and Isa as apprentices. It just doesn’t fit with what we saw of them. It’s the worst, most ill-fitting backstory I have ever seen.
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Lea’s whole character revolved around his mysterious past. And in the end, his whole past was summarized in a two minute cutscene where we were TOLD (not even shown) it. And his past isn’t even about him or his relationship with Isa or their shared pain. It’s all about setting up a plot for a character who, IMO, is supposed to be dead.
Yes, that’s right. Dead. IMO, Skuld and Ephemer and everybody else from the age of fairytales were supposed to be dead. The final world is like limbo where people with lingering regrets cannot move on to the afterlife. Sora wound up there, probably because the spirits drew him there. But he wasn’t dead. He could come back with the power of waking because his body was still alive. Demon Tide doesn’t kill your body.
But yeah, as far as I’m concerned, everyone else from the age of fairy tales is DEAD. KHUX wasn’t supposed to monopolize KH3′s plot the way it did. It wasn’t supposed to be that important. IMO, The main role of KHUX was to provide history to the Keyblade War and MX’s Keyblade. You would have the scene where the Keyblades come to life and take out the Demon Tide. It’s a nice little cameo to people who played KHUX, but nothing essential. Then, the hearts of the dead are finally at peace and they can pass on. The end. Their role is done. They weren’t supposed to come back! It’s stupid! Leave characters like a Ephemer and Skuld in the past where they belong!
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Xaldin: It’s an order. Why do you hesitate? You, who has been ruthless towards those who’ve turned their backs on the Organization?
If you take away Axel’s past a former test subject and give it to Skuld, you change the very nature of his character. Look how KH3 downplayed Axel’s dark and ruthless side by making it seem like Saïx was the only one willing to get his hands dirty. Axel was apparently some perfect angel who was just innocently trying to find info on Subject X the whole time. Not, ya know, ruthlessly executing people. No! No, no no! 
Don’t pretend like Axel was not a fucked up killer. He was almost as twisted as Saïx was. Not quite. But almost. Of course, I guess I understand why they downplayed this side of him. It really doesn’t make much sense for Axel to spend a decade ruthlessly killing people just to find a complete stranger who may or may not even be alive, does it? It would make a lot more sense if he was doing it because he was experimented on and his best friend was being held hostage by the organization.
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But Axel being a fucked up killer was the very foundation of his excellent character arc. Why did he change and join the good side? It wasn’t because he became friends with Roxas or Xion. It’s because he became disgusted with himself. He was disgusted with himself after he killed Vexen and Sora was horrified at how much pleasure he got from it.
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He was disgusted with himself when he saw Xion’s face for the first time and saw that she looked just like Namine. He was willing to slaughter Namine without a second thought in Castle Oblivion. But here was a girl who looked just like her, innocently asking to be his friend.
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“You didn’t have to use force…” 
Axel sighed theatrically and circled his shoulders. “Didn’t I?” 
Still gripping Axel’s collar, Roxas shook his head with the emphatic refusal of a little kid. “No, you didn’t…” But he sounded uncertain as he said it, and his voice shrank even more. “We’re supposed to be best friends.”
Axel brushed Roxas’s hands from his collar. “This isn’t about friendship.” 
Roxas raised his head. The glare in his blue eyes was sharp as a knife. 
Axel had never seen that from him before. His chest twinged, just a bit. He let out another sigh. “Listen, if that’s all, I gotta go.”
Roxas wilted again, and something in his expression weakened Axel’s resolve slightly. 
I just did what I thought was the best thing at the time. For Roxas, for Xion, for the Organization—and for Isa. But most of all for me. 
He turned away from Roxas and made himself walk away.
He was disgusted with himself when he attacked Xion and brought her back to be destroyed. Why was Axel so upset with Saïx at the end of Days? Because he threw his morality away for him! Axel was willing to do anything for him. He was willing to kill innocent kids like Namine and Xion all for his sake. And at the end of the story Axel realized that Saïx didn’t even really love him anymore. Axel was more than happy to kill anyone if he thought Isa still loved him and appreciated the sacrifices he made for him.
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He had been using the Organization for his own ends from the start. The only thing that had changed in the meantime was who it was all for. Maybe Saïx would call that a betrayal. But his world had changed.
But Axel realized that Saïx just used him as a murder tool to take out anyone who got in his way. He wasn’t even worried about him when he was at Castle Oblivion nor did he thank him when he returned. He took advantage of Axel’s devotion to him. That’s why Axel changed. It wasn’t like a My Little Pony episode where the power of Roxas and Xion’s magical friendship changed Axel. It was Axel’s own conscience. And yet, Axel still couldn’t bring himself to leave with Roxas at the end of Days. Even after Roxas left him the “Winner” stick. Because he was still attached to Saïx.
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Axel: Look at what it’s come to. I’ve been given these icky orders to destroy you—if you refuse to come back with me.
Roxas: We’re…best friends, right?
Axel: Sure…but I’m not getting turned into a Dusk for…Wait a sec! You remember now!?
Roxas: Y…eah.
And Axel being a human test subject also seemed like the most reasonable backstory for him due to the way he seemed so…maladjusted. I was only 16 when I first played KH2. I was the same age as Roxas. And even then, the way Axel related to Roxas made me think that he had a really fucked up childhood. At first, Axel was willing to destroy Roxas, too. His “best friend”. In the original KH2, he seemed like he was just following orders because he was afraid of being turned into a Dusk. Which is still pretty screwed up.
“Say something. Have you even thought that maybe I can’t erase Roxas?” Axel said, in a playful tone, and Saix finally looked up. “It’ll be all right. Cause I’m tough.” Axel puffed out his chest.
“How stupid,” said Saix, and for a moment he smiled. “Let’s hurry up and prepare. Time is limited. The hero will wake up soon, too. I’ll send you in right in front of Roxas.”
“Okay.” Axel stood in front of the sending device. Saix rested his finger on the button. “I’m off the~n!” Waving to Saix, Axel’s figure disappeared.
But in the “Axel 7 Days” novel, you see that IMMEDIATELY before confronting Roxas about destroying him, Axel was looking at the white envelope and then flirted with Saïx. I hate the way the Axel/Roxas relationship was so misunderstood by the fandom. Why did Axel decide not to kill Roxas? IMO, it wasn’t because they were “best friends”.
It was because, once again, Axel was like “WTF am I doing? I’m trying to kill this innocent kid all so I can salvage my relationship with Saïx. I am a selfish piece of shit.” Why did Axel say that Roxas would have a next life, but not him? Because Axel knew what he was capable of and was prepared to do to him. Roxas was innocent. Axel was not. He had a lot of blood on his hands. He was not like Roxas. Roxas’s innocence is why Axel was so attached to him in the first place. But it was exactly why Roxas could never truly understand him. There will always be a part of Axel that he keeps hidden from Roxas.
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On the sofa opposite him, Naminé spoke up instead. “Sora and Riku are best friends.” 
Axel’s eyes crinkled as he remembered his own best friend—the only friend he’d ever had, in fact. 
“If your best friend goes away, you’re sad, and if you get to be with them, you’re happy,” Naminé added. “Isn’t that how it is, Axel?” 
“…That’s about the size of it.” Axel nodded and sat down on the remaining empty sofa, staring at the sea-salt ice cream he held. 
“So you are capable of sincerity,” said Riku. 
Axel only shrugged at the jab and finished his ice cream pop.
Even after he left the organization, Axel was still twisted. He was going to kill Kairi. And notice how it zoomed in on his tear mark. A bit of a hint about the true meaning of the upside down tears. IMO, the tears meant that Axel was willing to do absolutely anything to make his wish come true. And that was to be with his best friend forever. Saïx betrayed him and broke his heart. Axel decided to channel all of that grief and despair into his relationship with Roxas. He was now willing to kill innocent kids for his new best friend in order to forget about the old one. He was still selfish.
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He only started to doubt himself when Kairi empathized with him. 
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And then he felt like shit and was disgusted with himself again. That was the last straw. Axel really doesn’t work as a character without a horrific backstory or being a killer. He just doesn’t. Being a twisted killer was fundamental to his story. And being a test subject was really the only things that could have made Saïx more sympathetic and redeemable.
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the-angriestpineapple · 5 years ago
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brewed & beards - ch 6
Kirishima tries to help Uraraka train when she asks, and he gets over his jealousy enough to actually become her friend.
Chapter Six - Genuine Kindness
One of Kiri’s favorite classes this semester is his nutrition class. He hadn’t been wrong when he told Uraraka the other night at pizza that nutrition was really important to him, and learning the science behind what made good food choices was fascinating. He even really liked his teacher, Professor Taishiro. The man seemed to always be eating something in class, jovially telling his students on the first day that as long as they cleaned up after themselves, he didn’t mind if they did the same.
Professor Taishiro was talking about macros and how they transfer into energy, and Kiri was totally listening, absolutely. He was only vaguely thinking about his resolution that he is unable to hate Uraraka. His mind wasn’t swarming with the petty part of him that still wants to hate her, but at the same time Bakugou has been nothing but rude to him and honestly he even seems pretty indifferent to his own girlfriend, would he really want that kind of partner even if he IS jaw-droppingly beautiful? It’s a stupid thought either way. Uraraka is a small, soft girl and I’m a big, muscular boy –
“Kirishima?”
Kiri starts and stares into the concerned face of his professor. A quick glance around the room tells him that he’s been sitting here mumbling to himself for long enough for class to have ended. Kiri swipes a hand down his face, wincing apologetically at the teacher. He’d woken up late today, very unlike himself, and barely had time to throw clothes on and make it to class on time. His red spikes take three minutes to set, not even counting the time it took him to sculpt them, so his hair was uncharacteristically limp around his shoulders.
Taishiro frowned at the boy. “Have you been feeling well, Kirishima? I’ve noticed that you were very distracted today. We do have a school nurse on campus if something is the matter.” Kiri’s cheeks flushed and he shook his head a littler harder than necessary.
“Ah, no, I apologize Professor. I’ve been distracted with some, uh, relationship troubles.”
Taishiro’s frowned deepened and he perched on the desk directly to Kiri’s left. “Relationship troubles. I’m not going to tell you how to live your life, you’re an adult now. But I would like for you to keep in mind that you are here at school to learn, and to build a foundation for a career. A very promising career, if my impression of you is correct.” He smiles kindly, and Kiri feels ashamed at how much he’s been letting this situation get to him. He makes a mental note to apologize to his other professors and to Mirio as well.
“I am so deeply sorry, Professor Taishiro.” Kiri immediately stands and deeply bows. “I promise to focus on school work from now on. You’re right, I shouldn’t be letting other people affect my future like this.”
His teacher chuckles and gently pushes him to stand upright. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad, Kirishima, I just want to make sure you know what is important. Now head on out, and have a good rest of your day.”
“Thank you, sir.” Kiri gathered up his books and gives another short, quick bow before heading off to an anatomy class. He really needed to get himself together.
---
He spends his lunch that day in the dorm room, eating some leftover rice with canned tuna. It’s a simple meal but a very comforting one for him, and he doesn’t mind the quietness of being in the dorm without Hanta and Denki. He loves them dearly, he truly does, but sometimes a guy just needs some peace and quiet.
He blinks as his phone goes off and he looks over to it. A text from an unknown number? He balances his bowl and chopsticks in one hand as he reaches to his phone to swipe the message open.
???: Hey Kirishima! It’s Uraraka, I meant to get your number when we were all out the other night but I forgot. Mina gave it to me, I hope you don’t mind! ;^^
Kiri didn’t mind in the least, really, he was totally okay with his friends being able to reach him if they needed to. And he considered Uraraka his friend now. He quickly typed back that it was absolutely fine with a smiley face.
Uraraka: Great! So I wanted to ask if you have time to help spot me at the gym tonight – Bakugou’s working and I’d really like to get some training in. If you aren’t busy?
Kiri smiled softly. He really had to admire her drive, it was inspiring. He said that he’d be at work tonight so he’d be able to help her train, no problem. She sent back a bunch of hearts and fist emojis, and it actually made Kirishima laugh. He was actually headed there once he finished lunch, so he let her know that and quickly shoveled the rest of his rice and tuna into his mouth. He brought the bowl to the bathroom to rinse it quickly – he didn’t want the room smelling like tuna – and then packed up his gym stuff to head out. A text from Uraraka said that she also had no classes this afternoon so she could meet him there.
The gym Kirishima worked at was only a few blocks over from campus. He actually had to pass the coffee shop to get there, and he couldn’t help peering in as he quickly walked by. He didn’t see Bakugou but he did see Mina and Jirou laughing about something behind the counter. He smiled. It always made his heart warm to see his friends happy.
He arrived at the gym and waved to the employee behind the counter (it wasn’t Ojiro today) and headed to the locker rooms. He dropped his stuff in an open locker and changed from his walking shoes to his gym sneakers, already wearing what he planned to work out in. He paused in front of the mirror as he headed out and looked at himself. He wore a tight fitted tank, loose gym shorts, and his hair was done up in his trademark spiked style. He grinned at himself, his mouth full of teeth that he’d always felt were slightly sharper than normal, and flexed. He was strong and he looked good, any bro would be lucky to have him! He gave his reflection a confident nod and strolled out into the main area of the gym.
“Oh, Kirishima! Hi!” He looked over to the weight area where Uraraka was already, waving a hand frantically and beaming. He returned her grin and jogged the rest of the way to her.
“You ready to get pumped, Uraraka?” He struck a pose, his fists clenched.
“Yeah!” She punched the air, reminding him a little of Mina. She giggled. “I brought along the plan that the trainer here gave me – that Bakugou wrote all over and changed – but I wanted to see what you think too.” He accepted the paper from her and skimmed it, eyes glancing over angry red scratch-outs accompanied by blurbs that said things like ‘waste of time, do this instead’ and other completely different instructions on there. Kiri winced.
“Well, it’s not that Bakugou’s suggestions are bad…” Uraraka’s face fell a little. “The just seem to be geared toward someone who is built more like him. Or me. Not so much like you. Actually, what the trainer suggested you start with is more on point for what you could be doing. How much can you bench press?”
Uraraka’s frown turned into a proud smile. “Fifty pounds so far! I want to be able to bench, like a hundred by the end of the school year.” She punched into the air again and Kiri grinned.
“Hell yeah, we can totally aim for that! Here’s what I think you should do. Lemme get some paper and a pen.” He went to the desk to grab them, and then he and Uraraka crowded around the sheets. He carefully re-wrote what the personal trainer initially put down for the most part, altering it slightly to include the lightest of Bakugou’s suggestions and a few suggestions of his own. No reason to completely piss the blonde off when he sees his girlfriend’s altered training plan. “Do you have a nutrition plan too? I know you said that you don’t really cook.”
Uraraka shook her head. “Um, not really. I basically either eat whatever is in the cafeteria or whatever Bakugou makes. He makes really good meals though, and rarely ever eats anything unhealthy.” Kirishima nodded, ignoring his heart flipping over Bakugou being health conscious. What a stupid thing to be attracted to.
“Well I imagine whatever Bakugou makes you is probably fine. As for the cafeteria…” He started writing down food pairings, Uraraka focused completely on what he was saying, and his professor’s words from this morning rang in his head about how he could have a very successful career of this. When he handed her the completed paper, she folded it gently like it was precious and tucked it into her bag. It gave Kiri a sharp spike of pride. “Alright! Let’s see how you handle that fifty pounds on the bench and see if we can up it a little today.”
“Sure thing! Let’s go!” Uraraka jumped excitedly and hopped over to a weight lifting bench, immediately going to start putting weights on the bar. Kiri couldn’t help but feel like he was definitely in the right career.
That feeling floated him through the rest of Uraraka’s training (they got her up to 55 pounds) and home to the dorm. He walked in to Mina regailing Denki and Hanta about how Bakugou had almost blown up their chemistry lab that day. It makes him laugh, and the sadness is less than he expected. He knows that he is strong enough for this to pass.
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lovemesomerafael · 5 years ago
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Others Like Me                               Chapter 16:  Responsibility
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               Chapters 1 - 15        Read It On AO3
For @nephilimbecomedeviant​ because who am I to deny the swamp monster?
Barnes isn’t happy.  He can see that Marya’s upset and preoccupied, and there’s no doubt in his mind what – or who – that’s about.  He purposely hasn’t asked Jarvis if she’s visited Bucky.  He’s sure she has, and even though it’s his job, he’d just rather not know at the moment.  I know you wouldn’t let her get away with that, Stevie, but that’s what you get for dyin’ on me.  Responsibility blows.    
He finishes breakfast early and pours another cup of coffee to take with him down to the firing range.  He’s in the mood to blast some shit.  He’d brought Bucky down to the range the week before, and he can’t remember the last time he’s had such stiff competition.  Clint can beat him, but only using arrows.  Clint rarely uses guns.  Barnes and Bucky have been down here three more times, and Barnes has really enjoyed having someone else to shoot against who – he has to admit, if only to himself – is as good as he is.
But he doesn’t invite Bucky today.  He isn’t ready to see him.  Barnes knows he’s all twisted up about Marya, and Bucky, and the rift that’s opening up among the Avengers over who Bucky is, and right now he really just needs to clear his mind.  Target practice is the best meditation he knows.  
So he’s not particularly glad to see Tony show up. Tony’s a fair shot, but it’s not what he does, he just thinks it’s fun.  So he’s no competition.  He also rarely comes down here, which means he’s here for A Reason.  Shit.  Barnes cannot get a break.  
Tony sets up and gets a few shots in before, inevitably, he starts talking.  “You seen Bucky today?”
“Nah.  Why?”
“Just wondered.  Thought I’d invite him up to my lab today, maybe.”
“Huh.”
There’s a long period punctuated by the sounds of firing before Barnes is empty and pushes the button to bring his paper target back to his firing booth to be replaced.  It needs to be, because the holes in the forehead and center mass are the size of quarters, too big now to be a challenging target.  Barnes isn’t satisfied with just hitting the right area, hasn’t been for years.  He needs to hit the same bullethole every time.  
Tony’s obviously been waiting for that, because he steps around the lane divider between their booths.  “We gotta figure this out, Barnes.”
“Most of us already have,” Barnes sighs.  “You and Natasha are the holdouts.  What are you planning to do to him in your lab, play lousy music until he cracks?”
Tony’s voice is low-pitched and more serious than Barnes has heard him in a long time.  “He could destroy everything we’ve worked for.”
“He hasn’t so far.”
“Yeah, the Mandarin hasn’t taken over the planet so far, either, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna give him the keys to the tower. Fuckin’ take this seriously, would you?”
When Barnes looks up, Tony actually takes a step backward from the darkly fierce look in his eyes.  He holds up his hands in surrender.  
“Think about it,” Barnes says, low and growly.  “How long do you realistically think you could keep me locked up in here?  A day? A week?  Your security is the best there is, Stark, and I could bust outta here in an hour.  He’s been here three weeks.  You been watchin’ him as close as me, you know he knows what’s holdin’ him in here.  And he ain’t done a damn thing.”
“Maybe he’s not as good as you.”
“Maybe he is, and he’s not goin’ anywhere, because he’s got nowhere to go.”
“Barnes.  There’s no way to know for sure.  Ever. Are you really willing to risk all we’ve built – all Rogers built - for this guy?”
It takes everything Barnes has not to swing on Tony for trying to use Steve’s memory to pressure him.  Tony can obviously see that, because he takes two steps backward this time.
“What are you suggesting?  You gonna kill him?  That why you’re inviting him to your lab?”
“I’m not gonna do that unless I have to.  I’m just saying, we’ve worked our asses off to put the Avengers Initiative together, to keep ourselves invisible.  Now is not the time to let down our guard.”
“My guard ain’t down,” Barnes says quietly, in a way that has Tony considering backing up another step.  “Nobody knows who we are.  Nobody knows we even exist.  How’s this guy come in here knowing everything about us – names, histories, abilities, events even – if he isn’t telling the truth?”
“I don’t know.  And that’s the bottom line, Barnes.  We don’t know.  And things are not getting better in the world, in case you haven’t noticed.  We’re stretched to the limit, especially now. I’m sorry to keep reminding you about Rogers; I feel for you, I really do.  But without him, I really don’t know how we’re gonna be able to keep taking on the Ten Rings.”
“Maybe we get a new team member.”
“Yeah, ‘cause people like us are so readily available.”  Tony’s voice gets harsher and more pressured.  He’s losing patience with this whole situation, and it’s making him very anxious, which he Does. Not. Need.  “Maybe I’ll check the classifieds:  Superhero needs a gig, flexible hours a plus. Has own cape.”    
Barnes slams a new magazine into his Beretta and turns back to pin up a new paper target.  Just as he’s about to push the button to run it back to the farthest distance, Tony startles him.
“Oh, holy fuck in a life raft.”
Tony’s tone causes Barnes to turn back to look at him.
“You mean him!  You want us to make Bucky part of the team!”  Tony’s not sure whether he’s more shocked or more disgusted.
“I didn’t say that,” Barnes shrugs.  “But we could do worse.”
“I am not fucking hearing this.”
“Just think about it.  Do whatever you gotta do, but think about it and don’t do anything permanent without talkin’ to the rest of us.”
“Unbefuckinglievable,” Tony mutters to himself as Barnes’s target reaches its destination.
*****
“I spent some time with this switch,” Tony says, not fooling Bucky for a second with his offhand tone.  Tony’s sitting on a high stool in front of a long, cluttered workbench covered with a spectacular assortment of electronic odds and ends, turning the switch around in his fingers.  Bucky stands nearby, nervously fiddling with what looks like dismantled small engines and robot parts.
“And?”
“And it’s been used.  The same way Marya’s was.  It has the same pattern of arcing.  Yours had some energy dampeners hers didn’t, that’s why your landing was a little softer than hers -”
“Wait…  My landing was softer than hers?“
“Hell, yeah.  Not only did she get crunched – her leg bones cracked like eggshells - she also got burned.  Not to mention that she crash landed within sight of Stonehenge and a whole busload of tourists saw it.  Just lucky no one got video, and all the blood kind of camouflaged that hair of hers. Anyway, I gotta hand it to myself, I really am brilliant.  This negative feedback loop with…”  Tony goes on for quite some time, praising himself and whatever he’s found in the switch. Bucky listens, but not very hard.
“I don’t know what any of that means,” he says, when Tony stops to breathe and looks up at him.  “I told you, I just followed the directions to make it.  I understood maybe a tenth of our Stark’s notes, just enough to think it could work.”
“So you don’t agree with what I just said?”
“Stark, I don’t know what you just said.”
“Huh.  Good. Because it was all bullshit.  Now tell me about the trip.  You flip the switch, and what happens?  Be detailed, this is for science.”
Bucky rolls his eyes.  “Ever been in a blender?  Kinda like that.”
“What did you see?”
“Nothing.”
“What does that mean?  It was all black?  You couldn’t understand what you were seeing?  What?”
“None of the above.  I don’t think it was all black, I think I wasn’t seeing at all, if that makes any sense.”
“Huh.  Hear anything?”
“Nope. I flipped the switch and then I was spinning so fast I was sure it was gonna rip me apart, and it damn near did.  Hurt like a mother.  And then I fell a long way and hit the ground in a different Singapore than the one in my universe.  That’s all I know.”
“How long did it take?  How long were you spinning?”
Bucky has to think about that.  “I feel like…  huh.  I feel like it was almost instant, except that I also feel like the spinning went on for…  I mean, it seems like I flipped the switch and then I was falling, with no time in between.  But I also remember thinking ‘how long can this spinning go on before my limbs rip off?’”
“Interesting.”
“Oh, and I forgot about the fire at the end.  I saw it, right when I could see again.  Felt it, too. So, basically, first I was spinning, and then I was falling.  First through fire, and then through way too fucking much air.”
Tony stares at Bucky for a long time, except he’s not really seeing him.  Bucky’s been trained to read people, but he has no idea what Tony’s thinking, only that he’s thinking fast, although Bucky’s not sure how he knows that.  
“OK.  If I have any other questions, I’ll let you know.”
“Did I pass?”
“Huh?”
Bucky tilts his head.  “C’mon.”
“All right, so I tried some technobullshit on you to see if you’d bite.  But I really don’t have any idea how it feels to travel to another universe, so there’s no right or wrong answer there.”
“And that’s more bullshit.”
Tony raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t ask Marya all those same questions.  What’d she say?”
“I’m sure you asked her that.  You could just be parroting her answers.”
“Actually, I didn’t ask her.  Which I’m sure you know, or can find out from Jarvis quick enough.”
Tony waves a hand.  “Whatevs.  Get outta here.  I got work to do.”
“Uh-uh.  Now I have some questions for you.”
“Which I will not answer.  So how about we don’t bother.”  Tony’s already turned away from Bucky and toward his workbench.  He picks up something from the bench in front of him and starts to do something to it.
“Why are you keeping the Avengers secret?”
“It’s the Avengers Initiative, and if it was secret, you wouldn’t know about it.”
Bucky makes a face.  “Huh.  Avengers Initiative, huh?  Where I’m from, that was an old name.  Never stuck. They just called themselves the Avengers.  And they’re not secret.  Not at all. They get more press than you do.  Which, what’s with that, by the way?  I researched you, and you’re all over the press constantly. Except that guy and the one I see around here?  Two different guys.  It’s like you’re playing a part for the world.”
Tony turns around and Bucky endures another long period of scrutiny.  Once again, he can tell Tony’s thoughts are racing, but can’t get a handle on what they might be.  Whatever they are, Bucky’s surprised when they result in some answers.
“You’re just a guy, right, Bucky?  Normal dude, normal parents, nothing unusual until someone made you something unusual, right?  Shot you full of serum and gave you an uber-arm?”
Bucky shrugs.  “I guess.  I could fight before, shoot pretty good.”
“Me?  I was a weird-lookin’, skinny nerd with way too much wired energy.  Bruce?  Same. Sam, Nat, Clint?  Ordinary humans who were made extraordinary.  Do you really think the world needs a bunch of us running around?  That Mandarin freak is bad enough.  And we’re having enough trouble with run-of-the-mill terrorists.  You think we need the bad guys getting big ideas about making themselves into superhumans, too?  That’s why the Avengers Initiative is secret.”
Bucky doesn’t respond, but he’s listening intently.
“Worse yet, you want governments getting that idea?  Look at Rogers and Barnes.  The U.S. government decided it wanted supersoldiers.  Look what those two accomplished - what Barnes is still accomplishing - and there were only the two of them.  It’s actually a damn good thing Erskine was killed when that facility in Brooklyn blew up creating them.  God only knows what would’ve happened with a whole army of those guys.  Well, you guys.”
“So you’re saying you keep the Avengers Initiative secret so no one will know that superhumans are possible?  To keep the idea, and the means, out of the hands of the bad guys?”
“Among a litany of other reasons, yeah.  You disapprove?”
Bucky thinks about that.  “Be hard to argue, given the number of superhumans in my own universe.  Because you’re right.  They do cause trouble.  But then, we don’t have the kind of terrorism problem you have.”
“Yeah, because your Stark found Jesus and became a pacifist or some shit, right?”
“Something like that.  He’s not a pacifist, exactly.  Just doesn’t make weapons anymore after he was abducted.  By the Ten Rings, as a matter of fact.”
“Yeah, you said.  You’re not gonna suggest that to me, are you?”
“Would you listen?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not gonna suggest it.”
Tony smirks.  After that, an awkward silence falls.
“So, um…  I’ll go.  Thanks for answering my questions.  Let me know what else you need.  I really…” Bucky frowns as he searches for what he wants to say.  “In my universe, Project Rebirth, that was just Steve.  Me, I got my ass captured and experimented on.  I was a very bad person for a very long time.”
“The way Marya tells it, you did very bad things for a very long time, but you weren’t really a person at all.”
“Yeah, well, Marya, she’s…  She deals with all of that better than I do.  The point is, I had a chance to use all the shit they did to me, what they made me, on the right side for once.  And it felt good.”
“Uh-huh,” Tony responds warily, holding very still and suddenly watching Bucky like he’s an oncoming truck that may or may not be going to stop.  
“Look, I wouldn’t trust me, either.  Honestly, if I were you, I’d be voting to put me down. But I’m here, and I am what I am, so I’m hoping you’ll figure out a way to trust me, like you did Marya.  Because I wanna keep fighting for the good guys. I wanna help your team.”
“Shit, you don’t ask for much, do you?”
Bucky just looks at him, conviction and naked craving in his face.  For a long time, Tony doesn’t respond.  When he does, Bucky’s stunned by the change in his demeanor.  He’s never seen the Tony Stark from his universe look so… weighed down.  Tony is always overconfident, always on top of every situation, even when he’s not. But in this moment, the Tony Stark he’s looking at seems almost lost.
“Do you know why I trusted Marya?  It wasn’t because she sought me out.  It wasn’t because she had the switch.  It wasn’t me, at all.  It was Rogers.  He basically just announced that she was legit and we were bringing her on board. Just like that.  I mean, we tested her like we did you, and I studied that switch like my life depended on it because, I mean, let’s face it.  All of ours did.  But in the end, it was Cap’s decision.  And I could live with that.”
Tony sits, an elbow resting on the workbench, his mind a million miles away as he worries his chin with his fingers.  Bucky waits, fascinated.  He’s desperate for Tony to trust him, but he now understands that Tony’s never been simply cautious about Bucky.  Tony’s panic-stricken.
“I didn’t ask for this gig, you know,” Tony goes on.  His eyes have narrowed with concern, and they’re not focused on anything.  He sounds pensive, melancholy.  “I didn’t want it.  I thought I did, at first, when the idea for the Avengers Initiative first came up. But then Rogers came along and bulldozed right over me with that all-American earnestness and all his jumping out of planes without a ‘chute shit.  Man, I fuckin’ hated him!  For all those years, we fought like horny badgers.  I must’ve told him he was wrong and full of shit a million times.  I resented the living shit out of him taking over my team.  And now he’s gone, and you know what?  The shit hits the fan and everyone looks to me, and I still find myself looking behind me.  And there’s no one.  And it scares me more than any monsters or aliens or whatever the fuck else you got in your universe.  Because as much as I hated Steve Rogers sometimes, I’ll hate myself more if I fuck up the thing he gave his life for.”
Tony turns his eyes on Bucky.  “So don’t push me, Barnes.  Push me and I’ll waste you just so I don’t have to take the chance.”
Bucky nods in acknowledgment.  Maybe he doesn’t know this Tony Stark, but he knows Tony Stark.  Which means he’s entirely aware that Stark had no intention of saying any of that, certainly not to Bucky.  What Bucky’s just heard is the human equivalent of the relief valve on one of those huge, old boilers that used to explode with sickening regularity back when every apartment building used steam heat.  Bucky says nothing, because there’s nothing he can say.  Besides which, he knows Tony well enough to know he’ll lash out if Bucky tries to offer any kind of support or understanding.  He’ll also deny having said any of it if Bucky ever tries to bring it up again.  
Hands in pockets, Bucky makes his way past shelves, workbenches, and robots toward the door.
“One more thing.”
Bucky turns around.  
“I promised Marya that if you turned out to be a fake, she’d get to be the one to kill you.  Don’t for one minute think I won’t give that order if I have to.  Trusting you is hard.  Not trusting you?  That’s easy.”      
Bucky nods again.
*****
Late that evening, Marya’s in the common room when Bucky wanders in.  He’s not there for any particular purpose other than that he’s bored in his apartment and is just looking to see who’s around.  She’s sitting in a deep chair, legs stretched out on an ottoman, a computer tablet in her lap.  She looks up as he comes into the room.
“Hello, Bucky.”
“Whatcha doin’?”
She glances quickly down at her tablet.  “I’m learning about Spain,” she says, a little wistfully.
“Huh.  Do you want me to show you where the compound is?  Or… where it would be?”
Marya thinks about that.  After a moment, she says, “I don’t know.”
Bucky tilts his head and knits his eyebrows as he sits down on the ottoman by her feet.  
“I thought about asking you to help me find the place on Google Earth, but I don’t know if that would make me feel lonely, when I look and it is just an empty piece of land.”
“I get that it would make you miss them.  But why lonely?  You’re not alone, you know.”
“Not exactly, but...  They have each other.  And here, I’m the only one-“
Bucky waits for her to continue, but she doesn’t.  
“The only one what?”
“I was going to say that I’m the only one who is like me.  Who was Hydra’s property, and did all of the evil things they trained me to do.”  She looks up at him with a quirk of her mouth. “But I can’t really say that to you, can I?”
“Not exactly, no.  Is it bothering you tonight?”
She hesitates, then looks up.  “Sometimes I remember things.  Today I saw a woman who reminded me of… something.”
Bucky puts his hand on her foot, trying to be supportive without crowding her.  He tries to be gentle as he asks softly, “Wanna tell me?”
“Do you really want to hear what I did to that woman?  Because they wanted proof that she was dead.  So I…  I brought them proof.”  
Bucky just nods sympathetically and squeezes Marya’s foot.  They stay like that for a minute without talking.
“I’m sorry, Bucky,” she finally says quietly. “For last night.”
“You don’t owe me an apology.  I owe you one.”  
“I’m the one who-“
“Look, let’s just not worry about it, OK?  It’s not like there’s etiquette for this kind of thing.”
“I know, but I’m embarrassed.”
“Hey.”
She looks up into his eyes.  
“This whole thing is so jacked up…  I pushed too hard and you said no.  We’re OK.”
“Thank you.”
Bucky stands.  “I’m gonna go back to my rooms.  Let you go back to Spain.”  He grins and taps the screen of her tablet.
“Good night,” She says, looking at him a bit oddly.
“’Night.”
 Bucky’s opening his door when he senses her behind him. He hadn’t realized she’d followed him from the common room.  If he’s as silent as she is – and he realizes he almost certainly is - he now understands why people so often startle to find him near them.  
“Hey.  You ok?”
She frowns, searching for words.  “I think there are women who pretend to feel what they do not, right?  I don’t know what they’re called.”
“Nothing nice,” he says, letting the door swing open. “But I know what you mean.”
“I am not those women, Serg-  Bucky.  I don’t want to do that to you.  But I come to see you, even when I’m not supposed to.  And then I tell you that I don’t believe you.  That I don’t think you could be my Sergeant.  I am very unfair to you.”
He sighs.  “Come in for a minute.  Let’s talk about this.”
He doesn’t say anything else until they’re seated on his couch, in the same spots as the night before.  Their legs are touching, but barely.  
“Tell me why you come to see me.  Do you know?”
“Yes,” she says softly, looking down.  “It’s…  Captain Barnes is not my Sergeant.  I know that he is not.  But you…  You say that you are, and maybe, somehow, you could be.  Even Mr. Stark can’t say that you are not.  And that possibility, that tiny chance, is the closest I’ve been to my Sergeant in all these years.”
“That’s what I thought.  And the thing is, Marya, I get that.  I understand that’s how you feel.  So, yeah, you’re right.  I probably would tell you to take a hike if you were just some girl giving me mixed signals.  But you got a right to be confused.  Besides, it’s you.  It’s hard sometimes, I won’t lie, but I still want to spend time with you, because at least we’re together.”
Suddenly, Bucky is rewarded for all his patience.  All the time he’s been in Marya’s universe, he’s been aching to experience some things with her again, and what she does next is number two – maybe three, but definitely top five – on the list.  She looks at him, brow furrowed, head just a bit tilted and a slight pout to her lips.  “Why should another girl…  I don’t understand.  Why would you tell her to go hiking?”
Bucky bursts into laughter.  There is no way to stop it, nor can he keep himself from throwing his arms around her.  She hugs him back, and laughs a little, too, but it’s the nervous laughter of someone who doesn’t get the joke.  
This.  This, to Bucky, is the essence of who Marya is.  She’s an assassin, plain and simple.  She has every bit as much training and experience, just as much blood on her hands, as he has. She’s also entirely wanton and shameless in bed.  At the very same time, she is this adorably naïve, this sweet, this tender. She’s a woman who has done things monstrous enough that she feels alone even among people with the kind of histories the Avengers have, and yet she’s embarrassed because of their almost-kiss.  
“Oh, Marya, I’ve missed you!”  He whispers fiercely, crushing her to him, forgetting to be concerned about the fact that she probably can’t breathe with her face smashed against him like that.  “I love you so much…”
Marya stops laughing and goes rigid.  She doesn’t move, or speak, and he doesn’t even think she breathes.  Shit. He’s done it again.
Bucky lets her go immediately and moves away, so they’re no longer touching.  “What is it? Was that not… I’m sorry-“
“No, it’s not the hug.  It’s…”  She looks almost frightened, but not quite.  Her whole body is tense, and there’s a wildness in her eyes that he can see she’s fighting. “Captain Barnes. He doesn’t smell right.”
It takes Bucky a second to put that together with whatever’s happening at the moment.  When he does, he lifts his chin a little and tilts his head, giving just the slightest nod of invitation.
Marya hesitates for a long time, her emotions showing clearly on her face, like they always have. She’s hopeful.  And she’s afraid of that hope.  But she’s also Marya, which means she leans in anyway, close enough that her hair tickles the side of his face as he hears her inhale softly.
Bucky is surprised by the near-sob that escapes her.  She falls against him, pressing her face into his neck and grasping for him with her hand, clutching at his shirt as she fills her lungs with the smell of him.  He’s a little relieved, actually.  It’s been years.  A lot has happened.  But, apparently, he still smells like she remembers, because she’s got her whole face pressed into his neck now, inhaling him so hungrily that he’s just waiting for her to take an actual bite.  Which he’d be fine with, really, because between the way she feels against him and her desperate whimpering, he’s suddenly ready to do some biting, himself.
It’s a long time before she sits back up and he can see her face.  He lifts his hand and uses the backs of his fingers to wipe the tears on her cheeks.
“I told you,” he murmurs, leaving his curled fingers under her chin and smiling softly into her eyes.  The pain that crosses her face hurts him, too.
“It doesn’t mean you’re him,” she whispers, but she’s not moving away.  In fact, she’s reaching up to touch his face, teasing the tips of her fingers through his beard.  
“Doesn’t mean I’m not,” he murmurs with the slightest teasing grin.
He waits.  She’s leaning against him, with his metal arm around her, hand spread across her lower back, and her left hand bracing herself on his thigh, using her right hand to touch his face while she’s breathing him in.  She dips her head again, scooting her body closer to him while she presses her face back into his neck just under his jaw.  
Only this time, after rubbing her face against his neck for a while, she starts kissing him there, tiny pecks so light he can barely be sure he feels them, while her hand moves up his chest and into his hair.  She gets bolder as she kisses up to his jaw, sliding her lips along his jawline, taking her time, until he feels a gentle tug at his hair to turn his face toward hers. He follows, and their lips meet.  
Bucky feels almost paralyzed, even as every skyrocket he ever saw on Independence Day goes off inside him.  He’s letting her kiss him, for now, softly and timidly, except that it’s not long before her breath’s coming harder and she’s using that hand in his hair to press his lips harder against hers.  
He starts to kiss her back, his lips working with hers to see how many ways they can fit together, and that little moan she makes goes straight to his cock, which is why it’s not his fault he tightens his arm around her back and slides the other hand to her waist.  Their kisses are deeper now, lips parted and it’s all Bucky can do not to lick into her mouth, but he needs to go slow, needs to be sure…  He feels her pressing against him, lifting up just a bit for a little more leverage so he’ll get the idea and lie back, pulling her on top of him.  
But he doesn’t.  
Instead, he takes his arms from around her and puts a hand on each of her upper arms, pressing gently to separate them.  When he can see her face, she’s flushed and almost panting, her pupils so dilated her eyes look almost black.  She’s trying to move back in, encouraging him to continue kissing her.
“Marya, wait.”
She has to take a couple breaths before she can say, “No.  Kiss me.”
“I need you to tell me that you know it’s me.”
“I don’t care right now.  I want you.”
“Listen to me,” he says, and waits with his hands on her arms until she stops trying to kiss him and opens her eyes fully.
“I need you to be sure.”
“I’m sure.  I want you.”
He chuckles a bit at that.  “I mean, I need you to be sure who you’re kissing.”
Her eyes narrow in a flash of hormone-fueled frustration.  “I am kissing you.”
“Marya.  You know what I mean.”
“But I…  Don’t you want me?”
Really?  Bucky takes Marya’s hand from his hair and places it on his crotch, just long enough to ensure she can feel just how much he wants her, then lifts it to his lips. “Yes, sweetheart, I want you.  But this is too important.  I know how you feel about your Sergeant.  And until you know it’s me, or I’m him, or…  I’m me, then I think we gotta wait.”
He collapses against the back of the couch, half-crazy with desire and feeling like there’s some heretofore unsuspected dry, cruel, puritanical part of himself calling the shots right now.  Lifting his hands up, he mutters to the ceiling, “I so better get a few years off my time in hell for this!”
“Bucky, I…”  She shakes her head a little, trying to clear it, and yeah.  He feels the same way.  
“You’re not sure yet,” he says, smoothing a hand over that hair that he loves so much.
“I don’t know,” she whispers.  “I think I know that you are him, and my body tells me that you are him, but…”
She pushes off the couch to begin pacing in front of it.  As she speaks, with each sentence she talks more loudly and quickly, and the frustration she’s venting isn’t just sexual.  It’s the whole situation.  “None of this makes any sense!  It’s all so complicated and it gets all twisted around and I can’t be objective about any of it!  They were right to make me stay out of it.  They were right to keep me away from you.  Because you look like him, and you sound like him.  Now I know you smell like him and you even fucking kiss like him, and I want you to be him so much I could tear this place apart with my bare hands and defy all of them to keep you with me.  But I can’t know, and if I’m wrong, and you hurt people because I give in to what I want to be true…”
“OK,” Bucky says, standing, too, and moving slowly toward her.  “OK. I know.  And you’re right.”
When he’s standing in front of her, he says quietly, “So let’s just be patient a little longer.”
Her eyes narrow, and suddenly she finds an acceptable target for her annoyance.  “Let me tell you something.  If you are my Sergeant, I am going to be very, very angry with Captain Rogers.”
Bucky huffs a humorless laugh.  “You’ll be welcome in that club,” he mutters.  “Still. He did what he had to do.  He needed to go home.  And where we came from, we couldn’t have been together.”
“Bullshit! Then it wasn’t an option!  And ‘home’ was Bucky!  It was always Bucky!  That’s what he said!” Marya hisses, suddenly gloriously angry on his behalf.  “Don’t defend his actions.  Don’t you dare!  No matter who you are, don’t try to tell me that there is any universe where it is acceptable for Steve Rogers to leave Bucky Barnes like that.  So he was homesick?  Exhausted?  Who isn’t?  The Captain Rogers I knew loved his Bucky, and he was well aware of how much his Bucky loved him.  He swore to me that he would never leave him.  He said he couldn’t.  So if your Captain Rogers was my Captain Rogers, then he is…”
She shakes her fists and shuffles her feet, too pissed off now to think of words bad enough.  When she does, they’re really vile.  They’re also in Norwegian, which has always been her go-to when she needs to curse especially vehemently.  Bucky feels another surge of love for her and can’t help the small smile that turns his lips up at the corners.  
“He did apologize.”
When she vents her rage at that, the dent Marya makes in the wall has actual marks of the individual knuckles in her fist.  It also breaks at least two of her fingers.  There’s a lot of blood.
They’re both a little shocked at what she’s done but, in a way he couldn’t possibly explain, Bucky feels her uncontrolled rage like a narcotic.  Suddenly, his pain over what Steve did is bearable, if only just, and he feels a glow he hasn’t felt since before Steve told him he wouldn’t be coming back, all because Marya is this angry at what Steve did to him.  She loves him, still.  And she still pours her love over him like an inexhaustible tide, warm and sure and inevitable.
Bucky no longer has any doubt that he was right to come here.  Already, Marya is soothing the wounds he’s suffered at Steve’s hands just the way she healed those Hydra inflicted.  She doesn’t have to try, or even believe that he is who he says he is.  All she has to do is be Marya.  
She lets him lead her to the sink in the little kitchen area and put her hand under running water.  He goes to the freezer and pulls out a cold pack he’d noticed there, returning to her side to dry her hand carefully with a clean towel.  Once that’s done, he rests her hand on one of his, and holds the cold pack to her rapidly-swelling fingers with the other while he leads her to sit back down next to him on the couch.
There are tears in her eyes when she looks up at him.  That doesn’t surprise him; she’s furious and she’s just broken some of her fingers.  But there’s also a trust in her eyes he hasn’t seen since their last night together in their own universe.  
“Let me stay with you tonight,” she whispers.
“Not until-“
“No, I know.  I’m not asking to have sex.  Let me sleep here, with you.  You know it’s different for me; sleeping together is… warmth, and caring, and safety.  I haven’t given you any of that since you’ve been here.”
“That’s not true.  But I would love for you to sleep with me.”  They smile at one another while she wipes her tears.  “On one condition.”
“I know what you are going to say.”
“It’s not negotiable.  If you try anything, I’ll make you sleep in your own bed.  Will you behave?”
“Yes,” Marya answers, her mouth halfway between a pout and a smirk.  “But I will not want to.”
It’s hard for Bucky to just enjoy her presence and her warmth, keeping his desire for Marya clamped down tight.  Especially when they’re lying in each other’s arms, with her head tucked under his chin and her breath soft against his neck where she can surround herself with his scent.  He almost tells her she has to leave if she can’t stop it with those small, happy, sighs that keep bringing tears to his eyes, but he can’t make himself do it.  He knows that, if she left his bed now, he’d last about three minutes before he’d be knocking on her door, begging her to let him into her bed.
They actually fall asleep, even if it takes a long time for both of them.  But it’s only a few hours before they’re awakened by the shriek of the Assemble Alarm.
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Untold Tales of Spider-Man 06: The Doctor’s Dilemma – by Danny Fingeroth
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An unexpected gem!
Dr. Bromwell grabs Peter by the arm and tells him he must talk to him about "his double life." But Bromwell hasn't stumbled on Pete's secret identity. He's talking about the dangers Pete gets into as a Daily Bugle photographer. He asks Peter, for May's sake, to give up the job. Although Peter has worried about the dangers himself, he stiffs Bromwell, saying "I'd appreciate it if you'd mind your own business, Doctor." Regretting every word, Peter goes into an unfair critique of Bromwell and a defense of his photography work. Taken aback, Bromwell gives Pete a new prescription for May and heads toward the door. Peter calls him back and apologizes. He tells him he has considered the dangers but still thinks the reward is worth the risk. Once Bromwell leaves, Peter changes to Spider-Man, eventually web-swinging to the pharmacy to fill May's prescription.
Back at his office, Bromwell can't stop thinking about Peter. Suddenly, he gets a brainstorm. He wants to give Peter a job in the sciences instead. First he goes to Metro Hospital and talks to Dr. Gordon, who saved May's life after Spider-Man brought in the needed ISO-36 (in Amazing Spider-Man #33, February 1966). Gordon reveals that, shortly after Spidey left, a beaten and bruised Peter appeared. Bromwell doesn't know what kind of deal Peter has with Spider-Man but he suspects the web-slinger is taking advantage of him.
Out web-slinging, Spidey comes upon "an eight-foot tall, four-foot wide gent in the green spandex suit" who is trashing an armored car. He is also "amazingly fast and as strong as the Hulk." When Spidey asks for a name, the giant comes up with "Impact," revealing that he volunteered for an experiment involving radioactive steroids (a combination just asking for trouble) for which he never got paid. Now paying himself in his own way, Impact slams Spidey against a wall and escapes.
The next day, Bromwell makes a house call and finds Peter all battered and bruised. He offers Pete a job in his own office helping with his research and lab work. Peter accepts. Aunt May overhears this conversation and is wracked with guilt for letting Peter risk his life taking pictures simply because they desperately needed the money.
So, Peter goes to work for Bromwell. There he researches steroids and finds out that Impact is Walter Cobb, a family man whose mind was warped by the experiment. As the days go by, Peter works at Bromwell's office, just missing catching up to Impact at his various crime scenes. Finally, Bromwell is called to the ER to help treat some victims of Impact's latest assault. As he leaves, Bromwell asks Peter to not go out for news photos. But Peter has to go out to stop Impact. Arriving at the scene,he finds Impact holding two hostages. The police bring out Impact's wife and kids to plead with him. It appears to work, with Impact releasing his hostages. Peter starts imagining a day when his work with Bromwell will lead to greater things than his web-swinging. Then a shot rings out and Impact goes on the rampage again. Spidey tries to calm him but he is too far gone. After pounding on the wall-crawler for a bit, Impact collapses. Bromwell is on the scene and pronounces the giant dead. As Spidey swings home, he reflects on it all. "Bromwell tells me that I should think about my aunt – like I don't do that enough. Impact shows me that there's a right way and a wrong way to try to help those you love. All these lessons! But...what am I supposed to learn from them? Where's the curriculum? Where's the syllabus?"
A great ending, right? But, oops, there's more! On his way home, Peter realizes that he could be as dead as Impact and decides to give up the webs. But at dinner, Aunt May tells him to keep doing what he's doing if it's what he wants to do. The next day, Bromwell waves the Daily Bugle at Peter, indicating the front page photo Pete took, and tells him he let him down, abandoning his lab work for the very work he begged him to avoid. He tells Peter that he has done all he can and that he's letting him go from his job. Pete can tell that Bromwell is hoping he will ask for another chance but Peter doesn't. He has come to completely understand that he does not become Spidey for thrills but to help people and that Uncle Ben and Aunt May would approve if they knew. Or, as he puts it, "Love the power. Guess I'll just have to live with the responsibility."
Had you told me that a Spidey story (and a prose story at that) about Doc Bromwell witten by Danny Fingeroth was going to be cracking I’d have never believed you.
Fingeroth’s body of Spidey work is a mixed bag to put it kindly. This is the man who wrote arguably the single best page of Mary Jane ever in Web of Spider-Man #6, eloquently summing up her emotional conflict regarding her romantic feelings for Spidey. But this is also the man who editorially mandated the creation of Maximum Carnage.
And yet here he doesn’t make a single misstep.
Okay that isn’t exactly true. His opening narration makes Peter sounds like a goddam psychopath. “Love the power. Hate the responsibility.” Er….that’s not exactly true, Peter has moments of enjoyment of his power and frustrations over the burdens it places upon him. But he doesn’t truly revel in his power and typically treats his responsibilities as simply something that HAS to be done moreso than something he resents doing. But that’s nothing compared to “…to take what I need. And to make anybody who gets in my way real sorry they got there.”
WTF dude! I was half expecting that the twist here was going to be that this wasn’t Peter speaking but it was. Fingeroth nicely bookends these sentiments by the end of the story but that doesn’t change the fact those sentiments shouldn’t be there in the first place.
You can maybe just handwave this as Peter being in a really bad mood and not believing what he is thinking. But I dunno, I suspect the real intent here was to clumsily set up something to BE bookended by the end of the story and more poignantly to smack the readers in the face with the central theme of the story. This lack of subtly rears its head again towards the end of the story when Fingeroth seriously spells out for us that Impact is a dark reflection of Spider-Man and the exact ways how. Everything the dialogue says is correct and Impact is actually a very good reflection of Spidey. But couldn’t Fingeroth have been a tad more subtle about it?
But other than that this story unto itself is pretty much flawless. I say unto itself because through no fault of Fingeroth the story’s placement withint he anthology is kind of weird. It clearly takes place after ASM #33 as there are very direct references and fallout from the Master Planner Trilogy. However the nature of the story also makes it highly unlikely to take place after ASM #39 because in that issue Peter is shaken by Bromwell informing him of just how frail Aunt May is. He pretty much tells Peter that if May learns his secret she will keel over dead. So this happens between ASM #33 and #39 but the Looter story clearly happens after ASM #36. Whilst far from inconceivable that this story could happen afterwards, because the last story with the Goblin was obviously tipping the hat to ASM #39-40 this story would’ve been better placed just before the Looter story. As is it’s oddly the THIRD story in this book to take place in this extremely small and specific gap of time after ASM #36 but before ASM #39.
Enough of the nitpicks though. I said this story was a gem and I stand by that.
What pleasantly surprised me most about this story was that Fingeroth seemed to be able to handle the prose format better than every other writer thus far sans perhaps DeFalco.
He wisely knows to emphasis the inner conflicts within the characters’ heads and play up the soap opera rather than leaning in on the action setpieces.
And yet there are two significant action set pieces in this story. Indeed the crux of the whole story REVOLVES around the physical danger Peter puts himself in by going into action. Fingeroth handled these deftly. The action wasn’t over explained and painted a clear picture in your head but didn’t linger too much. Sure you might feel things would be more interesting if you could actually see things but you aren’t drifting off as the writer belabors the combination of punches and kicks Spidey lands. It’s all very streamlined and designed to support the emotional arc of the story as opposed to the action being the point unto itself or simply the means to REACH a conclusion.
In this regard Fingeroth actually edges out DeFalco. Reading/listening through DeFalco’s story the action scenes can just be boiled down to Spidey fights some thugs, drags out the fight for pictures and then one them accidentally dies the specifics don’t matter even though we do get them.
Here Fingeroth forgoes the specifics to simply give you the broad beats to the fight (Impact throws a car, Spidey webs people to safety, etc) whilst ensuring he returns to Spidey’s inner thoughts and peppering in dialogue that is moving the plot and exploring the themes, even if it is simply lightly.
In a way this is a rare example of an action set piece that works BETTER in prose than it would visually. Sure Mark Bagley or Ron Frenz could embellish the fight scene to make it look cool, but the visions of a possible future Peter imagines are more potent and organic when we simply read his train of thought like this. Were it a comic such dialogue would come off as excessive or (if communicated through art) needlessly existential. Additionally as a villain goes Impact is fairly generic, but having him not have any visual presence mitigates that because his importance is more about what he is doing and why than having a dynamic appearance.
To go back to Bromwell, he’s developed more here than he’s been in over 55 years of Spider-History. Were he written like this in his appearances he might’ve become a more beloved character. What’s great is how organic his personality feels. We learn new stuff about him but it feels like a totally logical extrapolation of what little we saw of him in the 1960s. He is a quintessential doctor and Fingeroth lends him a surprising amount of nuance. He isn’t endlessly caring, he has his limits but even so the fact that he wanted Peter to ask him for a second chance at the end was a brilliant touch. It’s a small moment but it helps make Bromwell feel more multidimensional.
And because of this characterization the story earns the pathos of Peter letting him down. You feel sad for Bromwell and for Peter that things didn’t work out for both of them.
Aunt May is also done very well here. She is in typical Aunt May mode but Fingeroth chooses to make that the central conflict of the story rather than a background element. Refreshingly though the issue isn’t that May is on her deathbed, but rather the impact (if you pardon the pun) upon her if anything happens to Peter.  The story is almost a spiritual cousin to JMS’ opus ‘the Conversation’ in that it comes to a reasonable and positive resolution.
What in particular what holds this all together is the brilliant (yet rarely used) idea of treating Peter’s cover story as Spidey’s photographer as a metaphor for him being Spider-Man. It’s something that’s pretty clever when you think about it because the cover story means his loved ones go into relationships with him knowing he takes risks and potentially endangers them, just as if they knew he was Spidey.
Through treating the cover story as a metaphor Fingeroth is able to have Peter get a lot of feelings about being Spidey off of his chest. This chiefly comes in the form of his bookeneded confrontations with Bromwell, his angry (and highly unjustified) outburst at the start and his quiet resigned acceptance at the end.
Perhaps the best bi of narration in relation to Peter’s character was when Fingeroth spelled out that Peter might enjoy being Spidey but even if he didn’t he’d do it anyway because he was hooked on helping people. It eloquently emphasis the innate heroism and core of the character. And it does so in a nuanced way too as too often writers have Peter outright hate being Spider-Man or else cynically lean on the idea he’s a thrill junkie of some kind. Fingeroth gets that peter DOES like his work but that isn’t the reason he does it.
Nuance is actually the key word here. There is a lovely sequence where the story acknowledges that Peter might subconsciously be avoiding Impact out of a loss of confidence. It plays very realistically. How often in life has one bad moment shaken us up and made us hesitant to do things we previously did without even thinking about it.
Really I don’t know what else to say about this story that isn’t self-evident by just experiencing it for yourself.
Tiny issues aside it’s really quite excellent and highly recommended.
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ellipsesarefun · 7 years ago
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A/N: for @cosmicdusttrails​!!!!!!!! hope you enjoy this piece!!!! :D
It's ten minutes to four in the afternoon and the classroom is already empty when Lance finishes his advice (if you call his stupid goofy face and being in too close to someone else's space the summary of his own guide to charming people). Goofball and all that she adores about him, Pidge should have bought those cheap earplugs during her and Lance’s grocery day the week before.  
"And that concludes my TED Talk. Thank you for listening." Lance says as the four of them saunter through the hallway, giving an overly dramatic bow for effect. Pidge glances up to the two of them and then turns to share her exasperation with Keith. They both shake their heads and sigh before Keith chiming in with a, "You do know that being yourself is important, right? Hunk can say to Shay whatever he wants." Pidge nods along to his words and darts her gaze back at Lance. The said person narrows his cerulean eyes at them.
"And what do you know about romance, hm, Keith?" Lance retorts as he crosses his arms over his chest and careens his head away from them. Pidge barely stops herself from rolling her eyes. She hopes her boyfriend doesn’t instigate any further argument from mullet of a loner, lest they’ll be standing around for the rest of the day.  
"Obviously more than you, seeing as he's in a blooming romantic relationship with a wonderful charming guy." Her lips curve into a smirk when his nonchalant bravado falters with a mocking gasp. They pass through the school gates and they pick up the conversation once more.
"Shiro doesn't count!" Lance says, waving his arms around, "Shiro's Shiro!" The other three all grace him with deadpanned expressions and he ignores them, adding with his ridiculous puppy pout, "And what about me? Back me up Pidge! You’re my girlfriend!" He exclaims. He keeps that utterly stupid puppy pout with added emphasis. Both of them know by now her weakness to it (and she absolutely hates it).
“Boyfriend or no, Lance, you’re a goofball.” She says, laughing, “You can’t even stay put during that one TED Talk seminar a month ago and you couldn't keep your eyes open through the second one!”
"But you love me anyway." He teases, his capricious gaze unrelenting. She doesn't fight the roll in her eyes but the growing smile on her face tells them all that she's smitten.
"Goofball." Not even a comeback but a reply no less. He only laughs.
"But I'm your Goofball." He bumps his elbow against hers and she does the same with unwavering euphoria.
"That doesn't make any sense at all." Keith says and she suddenly she regrets forgetting that he and Hunk are still with them. If she could just drench those beautiful ocean eyes and goofy grin in acid rain, then maybe Lance wouldn't be this distracting.
"And also, it's obvious that Shay likes Hunk too." Pidge remarks, making sure Lance hangs on to her every word, "So even if he were to say something as disgusting as those rare and wild arthropods in some unknown island or talk science then yes. She'll like him anyway." And that is the inevitable, undeniable, and absolute truth. Hunk and Shay are lucky to have each other.
She glances off to the impending sunset, of watercolor-like sky fading from blue to still light scattered blots of red and orange. She immerses herself in the swirl of vorfreude of a certain tall, lanky someone with a wonderful handsome grin and cuddle sessions while playing video games until the dreadful 4am hour. She looks back at the road ahead of them and saves the thought for later.
They finally met an intersecting road and they all bid each other goodbyes. Both Hunk and Keith part ways, Keith at the apartment building at the end of the intersection and Hunk at the far left. Lance and Pidge link arms with laced hands as they cross the pedestrian lane of an empty street.
Two years ago, at the start of their college freshman term, she would have blanched at the mere notion of them sharing the same apartment unit. They were mutual friends of Hunk and Allura. They had not been around the other in their high school years as much as they do right now, not to mention that awkward crush she had on Lance then.
It took a momentum of switching chores here and there; study sessions with a break hour of video games, squabbling over what to buy for their weekly grocery shopping to become more than acquainted to their living arrangements. A confession and three dates later, Pidge realized that nothing much has changed. Sure, they’ve developed new set of habits, such as lounging around in only their shorts and underwear (sometimes it’s either of them and sometimes it’s both), have become familiar with each other’s random likes and dislikes, but there didn’t seem like some exponential difference, as though this has been designed long ago. As sappy it may seem (and she will never admit this out loud any time in five years), she and Lance seem to fit...
"Hey," Lance voice breaks her away from her reverie after a minute of walking , "How about for our anniversary dinner, I make some pasta and beer tonight?"
Pidge grins. "Sure, and I'll pick a series marathon?"
Lance flippantly waves a hand, "Psh, only if it's Voltron!" Their fingers tighten their hold and then the whole conversation shifts back to their own mundanity of homework, lab class gossip, and their friends. By the time they arrive at their apartment, she makes her way to her room while Lance heads to the kitchen to prepare their dinner.
From out her window, she lingers at the gleaming sunset, nostalgia creeping into her train of thought. She kneels beside her bed and slides out from under it a worn out shoe box tied in green ribbon and a lock. It's been quite a long time since she's added another missive. Just how many sunsets she's contemplated while writing one? Too many to count from the emotion it emanates. She had stopped on their first date, as they intended to be as a coven of clandestine confessions before they started out a romantic relationship. Still, it is strange to give them all to him at once and even stranger that she never did.
Pidge pulls out a key from her pillow and unlocks it. She reaches a hand to unwrap but hovers the moment she touches the fabric. It's already old and worn from the creases and not a single dust or cobweb in sight.
Maybe... It wouldn't be so bad to show him this. It's their anniversary after all.
She goes back out with the box in one arm and slowly saunters over to their small round dining table, where two sets of empty plates and utensils arranged parallel to each other along with a platter of rigatoni with sausage and fennel, and a small bowl of cheese sticks at the center. She finds him with two bottles of beer as she places the box on the table. His eyes flick towards the object in an unspoken question.
“Happy 2nd Anniversary, I guess?” She flashes a sheepish smile and a shrug. With the tip of her fingers, she slides it to his side of the table and watches as he takes a seat and unwraps the present slowly and delicately. He pulls the lid off, revealing several colorful stationary envelopes, each in meticulously tied in string and with his name written in neat cursive. He takes one with a trembling hand, shock eminent in his features.
“This is…” He trails off, noting the dates on each envelope “Were these…?”
“They were meant for you, before we got together, actually… At this hour or so, I’d take the time to write you a little something. I don’t do them every day, but it’s… a lot.” She looks down at her fiddling fingers, staring at the lines on her hand, “I never really gave them to you, did I?”
“You’re giving all to me now, that’s important.” He reaches for her hand and she follows with hers, lacing their fingers, “Thank you, Pidge.”
“No problem, Lance.” She says.
This is probably the sappiest she’ll ever get today but she doesn’t care. Seeing him like this is worth it.
[EXTRA]
“Wow… I had no idea you’re this sappy, Pidge. Where’d you get all these lines?”
“My brain, you goofball.”
“And you just had to write a letter in an old receipt? And your old notes? Really?”
“What? I thought it was an aesthetic thing or something?”
“….you were just lazy, weren’t you?”
“Yea… ran out of fancy stationary so I had to make do.”
“yea, but you could’ve chosen something that doesn’t have numbers in it…”
“Like I said, aesthetic.”
19 notes · View notes
sabraeal · 7 years ago
Note
More of A Slip of the Tongue, because Ryuu casually calling them mom and dad is the happiest thing to ever happen to me.
Kirito’s half hanging out of the window when he says, “It’s a little funny.”
“It’s been weeks.” Ryuu rubs at his head, agitated, trying not to watch whatever death-defying trick he’s gleaned off of Obi this week. “And Jirou told me he’d ‘tell my father abut this’ when he saw me walking back from the lab last night. The guards were laughing.”
Kirito makes a sound suspiciously like a snort. “C’mon, it’s been two weeks, and nothing ever happens here.”
Ryuu hunches over his desk, grumbling, “Well I wish it would.”
It hadn’t helped that Obi was waiting for him this morning, mouth set in concern. The whole way to the lab he’d gently reminded him that sleep was important, especially for growing researchers. Ryuu had to bite his lips to keep from pointing out that guard captains needed the same.
“Maybe someone will fall off the wall,” Kirito offers brightly. “That always gets tongues wagging.”
He rolls his eyes. “One can only hope. Now come back and close the window. Science takes a consistent room temperature, and you’re letting in a draft.”
“But Obi –”
Ryuu fixes him with his most Shirayuki-like look of disappointment. “Well, if you want to explain why Shirayuki’s stones didn’t crystallize –”
“Yeesh, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Kirito scrambles back, closing the window with a rusty screech. Suzu will have to look at that when he gets back from –
“Oh hey now.” Kirito pressed himself against the glass, nose pressed comically flat. It was too bad there was no chance of anyone seeing it, four stories up. “Looks like you’re about to get your wish, Little Ryuu.”
He glares at Kirito for the nickname, but squeezes in beside him, peeping through the glass, and –
And blue-and-white banners snap in the breeze, just above where a young man with white hair has swung off his horse, two aides at his back.
Oh no. Oh no no no. This is –
Kirito cocks a grin. “The prince is here for an official visit.”
– a disaster.
The next morning finds Ryuu in his office, wearing a groove in the floorboards.
It’s Friday, and Friday is journal day, as per his request four years ago, when he first saw the state of Suzu’s lab notebooks. While both his lab mates – and their assistants – bear the event with an air of noble suffering, Ryuu revels in it. He closes his door, cozens under his desk, and sets to replicating his scrambled notes neatly in his notebook, enjoying the scent of parchment and leather as he works. Sometimes, he doesn’t even get disturbed until dinner.
Today, however, it makes him a sitting duck.
There’s no reason to be so worried – it’s not as if anyone would tell Prince Zen; they know he’s friends with Obi and Shirayuki, but it’s rare that outsiders are brought in on the jokes that the Northerners share when the snow falls and work slows. But still – it would be all too easy to slip, for a guard to say tell Ryuu’s dad that he has the midnight shift, or go bring Little Ryuu to his mother, or – something worse. His imagination is white noise, but that does not make the dread any less real.
He tries to force himself to work, to sit up at his desk and order his notes into something approaching consistency, but his hands shake; when he tries to hold a pen, it trembles from his grasp.
That is ridiculous. It was – a slip of the tongue. It didn’t mean anything, and a man like Prince Zen would know that. There’s no way he would feel threatened by the – the subconscious feelings of an adolescent. It’s not like he was saying –
“Ryuu!” The door bursts open, and his papers take flight.
The prince stands in the midst of his office as notes fall like flakes from the rafters, as if they stand in a snowglobe that’s been tipped. Zen might as well be a painted figure for the pose he cuts, hands on his hips and eyebrows upraised. It would only make sense; whenever Ryuu stood in his presence, the feeling of unreality clung to the moment: a prince taking interest in a little orphan boy, just like out of a fairy tale.
“Prince Zen,” he breathes. “Are you looking for Shirayuki? We don’t share offices anymore. I think she’s in a meeting with Shidan, but hers is just –”
“Oh, no, Obi already told me.” His smile is perfect and white and kind, but it only sets Ryuu more on edge, makes him wonder more what a prince was doing in his office. “I came to see you.”
Ryuu swallows hard. “Me?”
“Yes, you!” the prince laughs, as if he could not fathom how Ryuu might not know the level of his esteem. “I thought we all might have dinner tonight.”
“A-all?” He winces, thinking about a grand hall, chairs filled to a man, Ryuu up on a dais –
“Yes, you, me, Obi and Shirayuki.” He seems excited by the prospect. “A private dinner, with just all of us from Wistal. No Mitsuhide or Kiki this time, of course.”
Wistal is a small, quiet office with the window open, Higata struggling with pots heavier than he can carry, and Garrack peeking down at him with soft eyes and oh-so-quietly closing the curtain. It isn’t the prince and his aides, not to him.
There’s no good way explain. No way that isn’t insulting at least, and Ryuu does appreciate the prince’s good will toward him, his solicitousness when it comes to Ryuu’s academic growth.
It is just impossible for him to shake the feeling that it only endures because of his relationship with Shirayuki. As if he is some – some younger sibling, destined to be forgotten and ignored as soon as the romance ends.
If the romance ends, he reminds himself. It’s been six years; time enough for hearts to change, if they were going to.
“Sure,” he grunts with a nod. “Of course.”
The prince claps his hands, pleased. “Great! Tonight, then? My quarters?”
“Ah.” He makes himself busy with picking up his notes, so the man doesn’t see his grimace. “Yes. Sure.”
“I heard my mother is sending your proposal on to the Council of Lords,” Zen offers, during a friendly lull in conversation.
It’s all been fond memories of Wistal until now; ones Ryuu didn’t share, but were pleasant to listen to as he ate. He’d laugh in the right places, and the conversation would carry on without him, and it was – nice. Not as fine as eating with just Obi and Shirayuki, but good enough.
But of course, it’s not to last.
“Um, yes,” he murmurs, eyes darting over the table for something to anchor him. The salt doesn’t grab his attention, nor the other serving dishes, but Obi lays a hand flat on the table, and that – that holds him. “She is.”
“That must have been some presentation!” Prince Zen’s mouth opens wide in a smile, and oh – oh no – he doesn’t know what he’s invited, saying something like –
“The presentation was brilliant,” Shirayuki gushes, at the same time Obi loudly brags, “Ryuu is the youngest to ever present in front of Their Majesties.”
He covers his face, but it does nothing to muffle the conversation; Obi and Shirayuki boasting about a humiliating number of his academic exploits while the prince sits quietly, making the right sounds in the right places.
“One of the old men at the university tried to challenge his work the other day,” Obi begins, in that broad way he has when he’s settling in to tell a story, and Ryuu groans. “And he –”
“He means one of the chairs at the university,” Shirayuki interjects. “He was trying to disprove Ryuu’s theory on root systems –”
“Right, he had some problem with the way Ryuu was talking about roots.” He wishes he could will himself into nothingness, rather that have to listen to this. “And Ryuu, he goes right up to him, in the middle of his lecture –”
“It was a forum.” Shirayuki’s voice lifts with excitement; she’s never had much love for the herbology chair. “He’d called it to correct Ryuu’s research, there were nearly five hundred people there, almost all of them in upper level research –”
“Right, so in front of all these smart-types, Ryuu comes in, carrying something like a hundred pounds of books –”
“He’d taken out every book on root systems in the library –”
“And he just told the old man off right there, in front of everyone!”
“His rebuttal was elegant,” Shirayuki told the prince, pride thick in her voice. Ryuu’s heart clenches at the sound. “Not a person left without thinking Ryuu’s theory was the next step forward on plant proliferation.”
“You know I prefer fists when it comes to fights, Master,” Obi says, “but I couldn’t have been prouder than if Ryuu punched the old man him –”
“Obi,” Ryuu cries out, of only to stop him. He can’t take all this – this attention.
The table goes utterly silent. Ryuu drops his hands.
The prince stares at him with a strange face. “Dad?”
Aaaargh.
He casts his gaze over at Obi, trying to – to ask for help, or – or something, but he –
He is staring down at his plate with something akin to wonder, akin to pride, akin to – to–
Heartbreak.
“Obi?” he tries, but it’s swallowed up by the prince’s laugh, by his booming, “I didn’t know you were so old as to have a son, Obi.” He turns thoughtful. “Though if all your boasting is true, you certainly sowed your wild oats enough.”
Shirayuki frowns. “Zen…”
Obi’s face stutters, mouth passing through a grimace before he lets out his own laugh. “Well, Miss always said: I may joke, but I never lie.”
She glances at him, wary, but Obi’s face is as bright as it ever is. Ryuu wonders if she can see it’s a mask, if she can see the way it’s peeling and cracking at the edges. It’s always been Shirayuki who could see these things, but – but –
Prince Zen is so dazzling, she’s too often blinded by his presence. Ryuu presses his lips together, hands fisting beneath the linens.
“Well, if Obi is the father,” Zen chuckles, swiveling his head to Ryuu. “Then who is the mother?”
He shouldn’t – he shouldn’t say anything – hadn’t he been so worried about this just hours ago? – but –
But he raises his gaze to Shirayuki’s face, flushed and frowning, and says with pointed ease, “I don’t know, I guess.”
Ryuu doesn’t read faces easy, at least ones that don’t belong to Obi or Shirayuki, but he sees the suspicion take hold on Zen’s at the same time resolve sets on Shirayuki’s.
“Zen, I don’t think…” She clears her throat. “You shouldn’t joke. Obi…”
Her face flushes, not from the wine this time, and she says, “He would be a really good father, I think.”
“Is.” The word is out of his mouth before he can think, but –
But it’s worth it, to see the look on Obi’s face.
Shirayuki sees it too. “You’re right,” she says, so softly, “he is a good father.”
Zen’s gaze darts between the two of them. “I…see.”
In the silence that follows, no one able to lift their gazes from the table, Ryuu wonders if they all are beginning to.
“Well!” Obi leaps to his feet, dish in hand. “I should – should go. I have the morning shift, you know, wouldn’t do to go to bed late and wine-drunk.”
Shirayuki half-stands to follow. “Obi –”
He holds up a hand, and his smile is – is pained. “No need, Miss. You and Master enjoy dessert.” He shifts his gaze to Ryuu, lips pulled tight. “Come on, Little Ryuu. Help your father with these.”
“O-of course.”
When they close the door behind them, arms laden with dishes, the room is still silent, still thick with something.
Obi lays an assuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Little Ryuu. They’ll work things out.” His face is too deep in shadow to see more than the white of his teeth as he smiles. “After all, it’s just a joke.”
His hands tighten around the rim of his plates. It’s not, it’s not. “Yeah,” he grunts softly. “Sure.”
His room is dark when she goes to him. Only the moonlight shafting through his narrow windows illuminates him, shows how he is caved in, hollowed out around his heart.
You’re right, of course, Zen had said after the door closed, smiled pulled tight across his face. Now that I think about it, Obi’s always had a soft spot.
It’s not his fault; he hasn’t been here to know – to know all the things she does, but –
“You can take it back now.”
His voice is as it always is, light and playful, but she hears the fraying in it too, the way he’s unraveling.
“There’s no one here now,” he reminds her. “You can take it back, Miss.”
“Obi –” 
“Please.”
The bristle of his hair tickles her palm as she rests it on his head. “I can’t.”
He looks up at her then, oh so slowly, eyes blinking and dark in the shadows. All she can see of them is their shine. “Why?”
“It would be a lie,” she says, so softly, running furrows in his hair. “It would be a lie if I took it back.”
He pitches forward, head thumping against her belly. “You should go.” His voice is muffled in the folds of her dress. “You should be with Master, Miss.”
“No.” Her fingers shift softly over the whorl of his cowlick. “I’m right where I’m meant to be.”
His breath is hot against her belly, heavy. She feels damp where he rests his head. “I’m right where I’m needed most,” she says, less certain. “Aren’t I?”
Finally, finally, he tilts into her touch. “Yes,” he sighs. “Yes.”
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monotype-on-phantom · 7 years ago
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The Woman of Many Faces
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This was actually one of the harder analyses for me to start, because with Maddie, I’m not sure where to start. She seems to be a simple woman who reacts to each situation as it comes to her, but the fact is, Maddie’s demeanor completely changes depending on what role she’s playing. There’s mother Maddie, wife Maddie, scientist Maddie, ghost hunter Maddie, and even each of those can be different depending on what situation she’s dealing with.
When you also consider that each of these roles are equally important to her, how am I supposed to decide where to start talking about her first? I’m still not entirely sure, but I’m gonna give it a shot. Hopefully this won’t end up as too much of a mess.
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The best I can gather is that Maddie is an adaptable woman who adjusts herself to each new situation as it comes to her. In their college days, Jack’s the only one sporting a jumpsuit (the very same jumpsuit he always wears, in fact), while Maddie’s wearing a lab goat over what are probably some stylish clothes (given her hair and earrings.)
With the way she’s eying Jack in both versions of this scene, I think it might be safe to say the passion for ghost hunting came with her feelings for Jack. He might be goofy, eccentric, and seem insane to a lot of people, but for whatever reason, Maddie is absolutely smitten with him.
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Look at that face. Over 20 years they’ve known each other, over 18 years they’ve been married, and kisses from him can still easily pull that dazzled look from her, even with syrup dripping from his pocket.
I think that, most likely, they met in college. Jack was that weird guy who believed in ghosts, and Maddie was likely pursuing science in another field (her talents make it unlikely that wasn’t something that always interested her). When they met, he somehow managed to pull her into his passion with him, and even though neither of them ever see a ghost until at least 20 years later, she throws herself whole-heartedly into it.
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She takes to wearing her jumpsuit at all times, building ghost-hunting equipment on a daily basis, proudly talks about her field to anyone, either learns to fight or repurposes her fighting skills to deal with fighting ghosts, and gets as trigger happy as Jack (shooting at anything that she thinks could even possibly be a ghost.)
Maddie’s just a passionate and optimistic woman, similar to Jack in a lot of ways despite the fact that everyone views her as smarter and more competent. When she dedicates herself to something, she never goes halfway. And I think we can quite easily see that extends to when she became a mother.
The Fentons can be neglectful, but for as much attention as their work takes, it was important enough for them to stay with their kids that they built their lab and op-center right into the house. Both she and Jack wanted to be near their kids as they grew up and still be able to do their work. They build things at the breakfast table so they can see their kids off to school, and if they notice their children are feeling neglected, they try to make time for just them.
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While we don’t see Maddie bonding with Jazz as much, we see on multiple occasions that she adores Danny. He is her baby, 14 or not. She calls him sweetie in public, gives him kisses, dotes on him, makes him bagged lunches when she’s at his school, and sees him as, and I quote, “the cutest, sweetest son in the world.”
For all that she gets distracted, she does notice that Danny’s changed a lot lately, and while she might not really understand why, it breaks her heart that they aren’t as close as they used to be. He used to be able to tell her anything and share everything with her. When he was little, she probably knew him better than anyone. There’s no way Jack was the one who took Danny to space camp or helped him get his Junior Astronaut certificate.
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While I do love Jack, he’s pretty much convinced himself that his kids are going to take up the family business when they grow up. Maddie pushes this a lot less, and is likely the one who supports the kids in the passions and interests they have. And with how much space stuff Danny has (including his own telescope), Maddie was probably the one he used to ramble to all the time.
So when she feels him drifting away, she starts missing those times when he was her little mama’s boy.
The entirety of Maternal Instinct happens because Maddie wants so badly to bond with Danny again that she doesn’t stop to question things or look into this “DALV” corporation. She just instantly jumps to pack her bags and starts shaking with excitement.
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Anyone who says being a ghost hunter comes first for Maddie should watch this episode again. She’s a nut, yes. She can carry machetes and all kinds of ghost hunting equipment on her, but doesn’t even think to bring a cell phone. That would be silly. However, in spite of that, ghost hunting Maddie takes a vacation so she can be full time mother Maddie this weekend, the only exception being when Danny’s in danger (then she whoops some ghost butt, but she’s not going to chase after them because she needs to keep her baby safe).
Maddie’s greatest shortcoming as a mother is that she doesn’t often think she has to choose between being a ghost hunter and a mother. She thinks she can be both quite easily, and she’s not the type to question her own judgment. She knows there are things more important than ghost hunting (as she tells Jack), but that doesn’t mean she can’t get too absorbed in her work.
As I mentioned in the past, she also has a problem with letting her biases and emotions cloud her judgment. This extends to her view of ghosts, her view of her family, and even her view of herself. She’s intelligent, yes, but she can be easily fooled because of those views and the fact that she sees herself as the logical one (between her and Jack). Even in obviously suspicious situations like the DALV invitation, she never second guesses herself.
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These flaws result in her unknowingly pointing her weapons at her own child almost daily. Maddie might realize she needs to put aside being a ghost hunter sometimes to spend time with her kids, but it’s never going to be that big of a deal. All ghosts are evil, so by shooting at them, she’s clearly keeping her children safe. There’s no way their work could put her kids in any real danger. Clearly their inventions that are keying into Danny must just be malfunctioning. “Everyone knows humans can’t have ghost powers.”
Even with the evidence constantly piling up in several ways, Maddie’s beliefs are so ingrained in her that she doesn’t even realize she’s making excuses, and because she so rarely realizes she needs to take a second look at things, she accepts those excuses without question and moves on. No matter what evidence is thrown at her, she sticks to her guns until something she absolutely cannot deny smacks her in the face. (Like Danny transforming on live television. That’ll do it.)
These flaws are far more dangerous than she realizes, and when you combine that with Danny’s fear of his parents finding out what he is, this could’ve gone some very dark places. While she loves her kids and probably believes they know that, she’s obviously not convinced Danny that she’ll love and accept him no matter what. Even though he’s constantly being shot at, he thinks her knowing he’s half-ghost would be even more dangerous. And since Maddie won’t put the pieces together on her own, she could’ve unknowingly seriously harmed or even killed her child.
She’d never forgive herself if she did. In fact, I think she’d be crushed by the guilt of not only hurting him, but being so blind to the signs and what her kids tried to tell her, and being so ruthless and naive in work. She never considered ghosts being friendly even possible. She never thought humans could have ghost powers. She thought she knew exactly what she was doing, but she had no idea.
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That said, it’s important to acknowledge what Maddie does every time she does find out. Maddie loves and accepts him instantly. She’s so proud of him for all he’s doing. She doesn’t even bring up the things that had convinced her Danny Phantom was evil, such as the stealing, attacking the mayor, or anything else. She understands immediately that she didn’t understand. There are clearly many things she was wrong about, but she loves her son unconditionally, and he needs to know that now. She might’ve failed to show him before, but she’s not making that mistake again. She can listen to whatever explanations he wants to give later.
This strayed a bit from where this post started out, but I do think all of this is important to understanding who Maddie is. She and Jack are both criticized a lot, and not without reason. They do make some serious mistakes over the course of the series. I still can’t bring myself to see them as anything other than good people, though. They love their kids, they love each other, and they always try to do what they believe is best, especially for their kids. Especially Maddie.
They just have a lot of growing to do, but that’s what character development is for.
And I’ll get to that at the end of season 2.
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westletter · 5 years ago
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January 2020
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Dear Friends, This mysterious poster has been appearing on lampposts in downtown Kingston since last fall.  It has prompted a rather personal examination of fake news.  Read the fine print under the photo and note that the scientist on the right is The West Letter editor’s father, Allen (Al) West.  He died at age 86 in 1996.   Bitten is the title of a book that appeared last year.  Written by a science writer in California, Kris Newby, it argues with great conviction that the scourge of tick-borne Lyme disease can be traced to US biological weapons research “gone wrong” post World War II.  The author, a recovered Lyme disease patient herself, builds a case that experimental work at Plum Island NY, led to the pathogen “escaping” into the deer population in Connecticut in the ‘70s, and from there to humans.   In plain English, Bitten is a conspiracy theory, that commits the classic error of equating correlation with causation.  Newby conveniently skirts the ample evidence that Lyme disease has been with us at least since the 1890s, and possibly for centuries, preferring to make a case out of two coincident but unrelated facts: one, US military tick-borne disease research in progress on Plum Island NY post WW II; and two, the first identification of Lyme disease in Old Lyme (from whence the name), Connecticut in 1977.  The “ah hah” factor, if you are inclined to the conspiracy, is that Plum Island is but a short hop, as the crow flies, from Connecticut.  
The amateur poster maker too has indulged -- egregiously so -- in the same lack of critical thinking.  Looking at the poster, you might assume that Al West and Queen’s University “in Ontario” were central to the conspiracy theory story.  You would be wrong.  The cover of the book does not feature this photograph.  Nor in the entire text of Bitten is there any reference to Al West or Queen’s University, other than in the photo and caption.  The main character from beginning to end of Bitten is the man on left, Willy Burgdorfer, the discoverer of the bacterium that causes Lyme Disease.  The purpose of the photo was to help bring him to life for the reader.  The guys in the lab coats to his left were completely unrelated to the conspiracy tale.   
I’m guessing that the poster maker is a Lyme disease sufferer in Kingston who buys the conspiracy angle of Bitten.  He or she has seized on the three amigos in lab coats photo, and its caption, as “evidence” (guilt by association) that Al West and Queen’s University must have had a hand, along with Burgdorfer, in releasing the plague of Lyme disease upon humans.  Sic transit the compounding of fake news.                                              §     
FAKE INVESTING NEWS Beware the market soothsayers Canadian economist David Rosenberg is a genuine heavy hitter.  After years opining and advising on Wall Street he returned to Canada to do the same for the Toronto-based money manager Gluskin Sheff.  Rosenberg’s “Breakfast with Dave” subscription service has a devoted following, as do his frequent interviews and articles in publications such as the Wall Street Journal, the Globe and Mail and the Financial Post.  
Last November Rosenberg left Gluskin Sheff to hang out his own shingle.  The name may be changing, but the schtick has not and will not.  Rosenberg is best known as a “perma-bear”, someone who almost always forecasts bad news ahead in the markets.  Famously, while Chief Economist at Merrill Lynch, he correctly called the impending real estate crash in the US before the Great Recession in 2008.  That made his reputation.  Unfortunately, with rare exceptions, he has been calling for more bad news ever since.   Rosenberg is one of those economists of whom it can fairly be said: “He called 39 of the last 9 recessions.”  Put another way, even a broken clock is right twice every 24 hours.   Beware the market soothsayers.  If you listened to the naysayers a year ago (including Rosenberg), you missed out on the best market performance in the past decade.  In investing it pays to stick to the knowable: is this stock over or under priced; are the board and management demonstrably competent and on the shareholders’ side; can the balance sheet withstand the inevitable storms?  The rest is guessing, which has no place in long term successful investing.                                            §     
THEME FOR A NEW DECADE Hop on board the shortage in rental housing! To quote from an editorial in the January 3rd edition of Globe and Mail:
“Canada has recently been the fastest growing country in the Group of Seven, with a population rising at double the pace of the United States and United Kingdom, and four times that of France and Germany. According to Statistics Canada projections, our country could have 48.8 million people by 2050.  And that’s the agency’s medium growth projection; under a high-growth scenario,there could soon be 56 million Canadians.   Nearly all of these future residents are going to live in this country’s handful of big cities.  That means millions of new urban dwellers ....”   At a recent baby boomers dinner party, the talk turned to empty nesters making steps to downsize.  The hosts, it turned out, were preparing to put their house on the market, and had been apartment hunting.  However, they were discouraged.  “How long do you think the waiting lists are to get into a good building in Kingston?” they asked.   
No one knew.  They answered their own question: “Two hundred.  Three hundred.  Even five freaking hundred!!!”  Of course that’s just anecdotal.  But the Stats Can projections bear out the argument.  In large part due to immigration policy, but also taking natural increase into account, there is a widely acknowledged shortage in rental housing stock in Canada’s cities.  This bodes well for the the cash flows and growth rates of well-run operators like Minto Apartment Real Estate Income Trust (REIT) of Ottawa.  The founding Greenberg family is still running the business and they are best of breed, as is their portfolio of properties. 
                                            §
CLASS OF 2020 FIRST TERM REPORT CARD Solid start, Info Tech shines   At the half-way mark in the 2020 academic year (July 1st to December 31st, 2019) the Class was up a respectable 7.3% vs. 4.2% for the TSX; 9.5% for the S&P 500; and 7.3% for the Dow.   For the calendar year (January 1st to December 31st, 2019) the Class advanced a sparkling 22.1% vs. 19.1% for the TSX; 28.9% for the S&P 500; and 22.3% for the Dow.   The Headmaster is reasonably pleased and offers the following first-term commentary:  “We dodged a bullet in the energy sector with Enbridge making a nice recovery -- there should be more to come -- and the addition of Algonquin’s green energy portfolio to the Class.  The pair were up 12.4%.” “Our Info Tech players -- Apple, Microsoft, Visa and Open Text -- once again led the pack with a sterling average return of 20%.  Are they expensive?  Arguably, yes.  Could their run have exhausted itself?  Quite possibly, in the short term.  Am I considering replacing these Class leaders with new prospects?  Absolutely not.” “Financials, represented by BlackRock, RBC, ScotiaBank and TD, held their ground, eking out a 1.4% average return.  On the plus side, their valuations are quite attractive, a quality that is increasingly difficult to find in many parts of the market.  That bodes well for future gains.  As noted previously, BlackRock’s co-founder and CEO Larry Fink is an impressive guy, quite visionary and worth keeping an eye on.  In his just published annual letter he is committing to exiting positions in environmentally unsustainable businesses.  He is encouraging others to do the same.  Coming from the head of the largest asset manager in the world ($7 trillion USD), that’s a meaningful nudge.”   “Retail Class veterans Metro and Alimentation Couche Tard clocked a respectable 4.5%. While fully priced for now, they continue to benefit from wise acquisitions.  There will be more to come.  In particular, I’m following Couche Tard’s mating dance with Caltex, a fuel distributor and convenience store chain in Australia.  If the deal goes through, it will be the largest in Couche Tard’s history and transformational for the company.  If not, another deal will come along.  Couche are patient buyers.”    “Global fertilizers champ Nutrien was beaten up somewhat this past term, dragging the return for Resources down 11.2%.  By comparison with key competitors like Mosaic, however, Nutrien is smelling like a rose, given the weak market conditions.  All the while, wisely managed Nutrien continues to throw off cash and use it to buy back shares and pay a growing, nicely yielding dividend. With some cooperation in potash and nitrogen prices, I can see this Class member in positive territory by the end of the school year.” “Brookfield Infrastructure pulled up the Class average with a tidy 15.5% Infrastructure gain.  What did the market like?  Among other things, canny purchases of cell phone towers and a gas pipeline network in India.  And data centres.  This classmate is a master at recycling capital to deliver shareholder value.  Translation: selling high; buying low.” “CNR, John Deere and CCL held the fort, almost, for Industrials, with an average return of - 4.1%.  Each had to contend with headwinds of one form or another.  For CNR, there was the strike; for Deere, the fallout from the US/China trade war in agriculture; for packager CCL, global trade would be a factor, but I also have nagging concerns about purely operational factors.  More recent acquisitions have been slow to bear fruit.  Let’s hope some of these issues will be resolved by next June.” “Healthcare desk-mates Amgen and Johnson & Johnson didn’t break a sweat over the past six months, registering an average gain of 17.8%.  Do not be deterred by the multitude of talcum powder and opioid litigations J&J is facing.  These are par for the course in the pharma world, and are already fully reflected in J&J’s still below par share price.  Keep your eye on the business fundamentals.  They are doing just fine.” “Telus, our lone but dependable Class member in Telecom, logged a 3.8% gain.  Factor in the dividend yielding 4.6% and what’s not to like?” “Disney waves the Class flag for Entertainment, and what a flap it has created with the keenly awaited launch of its streaming service Disney +.  Since its September debut, subscriptions have breached the 50 million mark and show no signs of slowing down (Netflix watch out).  It’s enough to make a Headmaster proud.  The stock is up an underwhelming 3.6% for the term.  But put that in perspective: over the past 12 months, the House of Mouse has had a run-up of 31.9%.  As is so often the case, the market anticipated the good news.  Fear not; there should be more to come in the months and years ahead.” If you would like further information on any of the investing ideas raised in this issue, or a complimentary consultation, please call or email. CW
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showingthroughtome · 7 years ago
Text
spit fire - chapter nineteen
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i saw you in the party, soft lips, soft spoken
“Normally, and you know this, I'm not on Farrah's side.” Molly shudders, laughing. “But you haven't been out once this semester and we're almost halfway through it. Even if Harry is the dick of the century, you shouldn't let him keep you in.”
“I don't.” From Noa’s perspective, that isn't the case. Not one bit.
“You do.” Farrah argues, picking up the dress Noa has since put on the chair by her desk, holding it back up towards her friend and adding, “It's kind of sad, really.”
Molly takes what Farrah says and tacks on a pout. “Do you want to make us sad, Noa?”
read below - catch up here - ask me things here
Though, of course, Harry apologizes to her. He sends her text after text that following day. All of them are about how he's sorry for going behind her back without making sure it was okay with her first. Then, the following day at cheer practice, he surprises her in the supply closet and tries his hardest to have her truly hear his apology.
Though, of course, she doesn't. And that night, he sends her one more text saying he will never regret doing anything to make her less anxious - never, he emphasizes.
That was weeks ago now, and they haven't spoken at all since. His waves are ignored and his texts go unopened before she deletes them. Until eventually, those stop and they grow completely apart. February goes without any interaction. She cheers at his games and watches him score point after point, but she doesn't even acknowledge his existence.
It's not like it's easy for her or anything. She has spent more nights than she'll ever admit with tears in her eyes as she listens to the most emotional Drake songs there are. Once or twice, she's stays up until 2am looking at his dumb Instagram and wondering what the hell is going on in his everyday life.
Noa stops going to Sigma Kappa parties because she knows she'll see him there. There would be a possibility of hearing his laugh or catching his dimples or worst of all, seeing either of those being directed at someone that isn't her. So, on weekends she sits in and watches TV shows on Netflix. She's even cracked open textbooks a time or two.
During one weekend, she spent every waking hour planning a protest for the science labs to stop using frogs as play things. That following week, she spent three days sat outside the building with eleven other environmentally conscious students. She got shit for missing practice from all the members on the squad and the university head of the team but luckily, there weren't any games she missed and she rose awareness about the unnecessary frog deaths.
March Madness has begun quickly and in a whirlwind, the Springfield Wolves are in it to win it. They blaze through the first round with Harry as the star. Suddenly, national attention is on this British player and Noa almost shudders every time she happens to see his name on ESPN - she flips the channel as fast as she can but they play it on nearly every TV around campus.
After the second round, and a win by 27 points, every student is buzzing with the talks of “the party of the century” at SK. Noa on the other hand, cannot bring herself to care any less. She is sitting in her room after she got back to her room and took a long shower when a knock is heard at the door.
“Noa, get the fuck up.” Molly says after popping her head in and seeing Noa with wet hair and still wrapped in a towel. Farrah pushes Molly forward, through the door, and slowly begins shaking her head.
“I'm not going.” Noa declares sternly, adamantly.
Farrah doesn't stop shaking her head until she comes back just as certain with, “Yes. Yes, you are.”
“How many times do we have to talk you into having fun?” Molly closes the door behind them, shutting out the girls on the opposite side who are celebrating with a floor party. Walking to Noa’s wardrobe, Molly’s heels clack against the tile floor. “That’s all we do anymore.”
Noa watches her begin to swipe through all her clothes with the assistance of Farrah. She completely forgets the question until Molly stops mid swipe and raises her eyebrows at her.
“Um, well I don't think it will be fun.” Noa shrugs as a matter of fact, wringing her hands through her hair and onto the towel.
“You'd think it was fun if a certain meddling boy wasn't going to be there.” Farrah said, completely sure of herself with no hesitance to go there.
There was no use in denying it so Noa replies, “Maybe.”
Molly pulls out a black, strappy dress - simple but a tiny bit shiny so it isn't boring. It's one of Noa's favorites even though she hasn't had a chance to wear it out yet.
“Dude, get over that shit.” Molly looks over the dress one more time before nodding with Farrah and then throwing it at Noa.
She catches it just barely, questioning incredulously, “What?”
“So what, man? He went and made sure your mom wasn't dead. Boohoo. He loves you and wants you to be happy.” Shrugs the brunette with the brash attitude who rarely throws it that bluntly at Noa, checking herself out in the mirror.
Farrah, who is usually the one leading the train, agrees, “Yeah, Noa. Damn.”
Many times over the last couple weeks have the girls shown this same attitude - damn Noa, love you but he was just looking out. Yeah, it was actually really sweet if you could see it. If you could just get over the fact that you didn't ask him too.
Noa is kind of tired of always hearing the same things from her friends. If it were them in her situation, she'd surely have their backs in whatever they needed to be happy.
She rolls her eyes and exasperates, “It's not really any of your business either.”
“Bitch, calm down.” Molly snaps her head away from the mirror at Noa’s annoyed tone, still smiling. “It's just, you're always so down because what exactly?”
“He went to my mom.”
“Must be rough to be cared about.” Farrah moans dramatically, fixing her lip gloss in the mirror.
Molly throws her arm around Farrah's neck and confers, “It's probably because she's not used to it, huh?”
“All that love has got her feeling angry inside, I suppose.”
Ever since the two of them got their happy little ending - because yeah, Molly calls Zayn her boyfriend now - they've been nearly insufferable to Noa. She guesses it's because they just want her to be happy so bad that they can't tell how pushy they can be. Every time she tells them to chill, either one of them will explain it away as just being “fucking honest” with her about the truth of the situation.
“Can you guys just shut up?” Noa says in a sweet voice so her friends aren't really offended, though she can't lose all edge to it so they do know she's being serious.
Farrah counters, “Then come to the party.”
“I don't want to.” She walks over to the drawer where her underwear is and pulls out a black bra and black panties - nothing special at all.
“You'll be so bummed if you miss it.”
“Normally, and you know this, I'm not on Farrah's side.” Molly shudders, laughing. “But you haven't been out once this semester and we're almost halfway through it. Even if Harry is the dick of the century, you shouldn't let him keep you in.”
“I don't.” From Noa’s perspective, that isn't the case. Not one bit.
“You do.” Farrah argues, picking up the dress Noa has since put on the chair by her desk, holding it back up towards her friend and adding, “It's kind of sad, really.”
Molly takes what Farrah says and tacks on a pout. “Do you want to make us sad, Noa?”
Noa throws her head back, realizing she will be leaving the dorm that night no matter how much she wants to stay in.
“I hate you guys, you know that?” She grunts and drops her towel, putting the bra back into the drawer since the dress they picked didn't call for it.
The two girls take one more look at each other, both fully polished for a night out and looking fabulous in their very different but revealing dresses, and somehow say at the same time, “For sure.”
---
By the time they do arrive, all in some variation of black and a red lip, the party is in full swing. It's one of the more crowded ones Noa has ever been to at the frat house - and she was there for the anti-Trump party the day after he got elected. Every room was brimming then and somehow tonight still feels like more.
Molly has to basically pull the others through the front door, ignoring the come on’s from randoms who have no clue who they are. Bass is thumping through the room though, so it's easy for the girls to pretend like they just can't hear the guys. One of them almost touches Farrah but she's swatting them away before they have the chance.
When they finally get to people they know, they're all ready for a drink. The good thing is that the person they find is Louis and Louis always always mans the keg.
“Hey babe!” He greets Farrah as soon as he sees her, bursting with excitement, clearly drunk, kissing her cheek. “You guys made it!”
“Not without a little pushing on our part.” Farrah gestures between her and Molly and nodding her head in Noa’s direction.
Noa shakes her head and restrains from saying something sassy. She instead goes for one of the red cups on the top of a plastic tower of them and holds it out to Louis, “Fill me up, Lou?”
“Anything for my favorite grouch!” He brings the tap to the lip of her cup and begins filling it.
“Hey! I am not a grouch.”
“I'd beg to differ.” Molly follows suit and holds up a cup.
“And that's coming from the girl who is willingly dating Zayn Malik - moodiest dude ever.” Louis snorts.
“We can't all be as happy as you are all the time.” Molly says sharply, like she's actually defending her boyfriend. Noa hasn't seen Molly go that far yet, but low and behold, Molly is damn near snarling at someone for Zayn.
She's touched, really. And working on her drink as she listens to the two go back and forth. Louis may be happy all the time but he sure does have a few smart remarks up his sleeve that makes Noa glad she came out. Farrah watches too, trying not to root on either side but ultimately laughing a bit more at Louis’ quips.
Zayn shows up soon to defend himself with Niall close on his heels. As soon as Niall sees Noa, he bounds for the spot right next to her and embraces her in the biggest bear hug imaginable.
“Where have ya been, my cheerleading beauty?” He asks as he loosens his grip. Placing a kiss on her forehead quickly, he urges, “Huh?”
All the affection is a bit much for Noa - she feels submerged in his gruff and beer breath and loud voice - but, she knows that's just who Niall is when so she tries to act okay with it, shrugging, “Oh you know, around.”
“Avoiding us?”
“No. Never.” She shakes her head with certainty so the blonde will believe her.
Niall nods sheepishly and with a slightly disbelieving eye. “Avoiding him?”
At that, the worry in her stomach reappears, the ominous him of it all looming over her head. Noa gives a snort, “No. Never.” She brushes him further back so she can give Niall a look that makes him think he is crazy to even assume.
But just like he didn't believe her a second ago, he doesn't believe her now. Niall emits another chuckle and nudges her shoulder, “Yeah, well, I've missed you. There haven’t been enough environmental rants in my life recently.”
“I am so sorry. I'll get on that in a drink or two.” Noa smiles wide, raising her cup to her lips and taking a larger than usual drink to show her conviction for Niall.
Shaking his head, he says, “I heard something about you and frogs.”
“Don't get me started.” She throws her hand in the air to stop him, then changes her mind. “Actually, it was a beautiful experience. Transcendental really.”
“Really?”
“You’ll be there next time.” Noa assures, to which Niall enthusiastically agrees. He is smiling so pure, cheeks getting redder the closer he gets to intoxicated, his eyes radiating good times. It reminds Noa of how he looks when he talks animatedly about girls he has crushes on, leading her to ask right in that moment, “How are you and that girl?”
“Huh?” Niall squints at her, trying to figure out what she is talking about.
“That girl? The basketball player.”
“Oh. That fizzled out in weeks. Too extreme, I found.” He is shaking his head, “Man, she had practice like, all the time and didn't ever make time for dates.”
Noa feels her eyes go big with shock that he said that, immediately reacquainted with the feeling of when boys said the same things about her in high school. She flares her nostrils and playfully says, “Wow. What a bitch? It's like she has her own life or something.”
“You know what I mean though. She was just too busy.” Defending himself, he raises his voice. “We weren't ever anything serious though so it's not like either of us were too bent up about it.”
Noa decides then that it isn’t her business - not after the way Niall started laughing halfway through his defense. She smiles and without thinking says, “Nice. Always good to split up amicably.”
“How would you know?” Niall drops his jaw and lifts his eyebrows accusingly the moment the words are out of Noa’s lips.
She smacks her hand to her forehead - regret regret regret - as she pleads, “Not you too! You're supposed to be a good one.”
“Come on, Noa. Can you blame me? I've spent the last couple months listening to Harry whine.” Niall admits without any bit of wavering on the subject.
Noa doesn’t want to have the conversation and she doesn’t want to care that Harry has been whining. But she does. “Whine?”
“Well… yeah.” Niall only notices then that maybe he shouldn’t be talking about it with her. “But I'm his lad so I'm saying no more on the subject.”
“You brought it up.”
“Fuck! I did, didn't I?”
“You're drunk, my friend.” Noa grips his shoulder closest to her and brings their bodies closer for emphasis, laughing in his face, “Absolutely pissed.”
“Look who's bringing him up now!” Niall’s eyes light up even more, pointing a finger in her face, following the sentence with the final drink from his cup.
“That wasn't me bringing him up.” Noa swats his hand away, nearly annoyed with the fact that he was technically correct.
“Nah, just using his British-y terms.” Niall puts on a bad accent and grins, “Gonna go take a kip soon?”
“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes but finds herself smiling at the word and how she always thought it was kind of cute coming out of Harry's mouth - the way he only ever uses it when he is completely worn out and a little slurry in his pronunciation. It sends an instant wave of missing him washing over her, raising the normal level she's gotten used to.
Her eyes are scanning the room for him uncontrollably now. She would try to stop them but she feels a sudden need to find him. Maybe just to see him or maybe just to talk. Maybe even to really talk to him - about what went wrong and how, for far too long, she hasn't gotten to pretend to dislike cuddling him.
She can't find him after a few peers and peeks around the tops of everyone's head so she turns to Niall who is getting his cup refilled and asks, “Is he here?”
“Uh, I don't think so.” Niall drops the tap and gestures in the direction across the room. “Go ask Zayn, though. As you said, I'm pissed.” He laughs once again as Noa follows his advice and makes her way to the guy surrounded by clouds.
“Zayn.” She addresses him with a smile and some hope that he’ll know where Harry is.
“Hey, Noa. How ya doin’?”
“Good. You?” Noa is making her way through casualties patiently, not fully understanding the incessant urge to see Harry but letting her true emotions engulf her actions.
Zayn, on the other hand, is genuinely into the conversation, smiling from ear to ear as he runs a hand through his hair. “Pretty fucking toked out.”
Noa laughs because how can she not and then doesn't even think to segway into her question before she's asking, “Do you know where Harry is?”
“Not here.” Zayn eyes her suspiciously, high but still aware that Noa asking for Harry is something out of the ordinary. He carries on quickly though, “He doesn't really show up to the parties anymore.”
“Why not?” Noa is confused. Harry always loved to celebrate with the guys, she knows he always came here after a win unless he was with her - usually they'd come together. “How can he not be celebrating his big night?”
“Like you don't know.” Zayn hits his pipe after shaking his head at her, almost disapproving. Because Noa does know. She knows it is her fault that Harry isn't there. She doesn't need the look from Zayn to add to that. She bows her head to look into her half-filled cup just so she can avoid the brown eyes of Harry's close friend. Yet, he continues, “He's missing you, babe. He puts up a good front, I think, when he's around you anyway.”
“So he just doesn't show anymore?” She bites her lip, ignoring the Harry missing her part and what that does to her brain.
“Hasn't in weeks.” Zayn shrugs and then exhales, resolute in something before he gets a smirk and explains, “I shouldn't tell you this but last time we smoked he went on this like, 20-minute rant type thing on how he like, went on a hike with you once or some shit and fucking had the best time of his life and how he was like terrified it wouldn't happen again. I don't know. It was a trip, man.”
“When was this?” Noa can’t believe Harry even registers that hike as something special - as she remembers, he complained the whole time and pretended to die on multiple occasions. Though, to her it is one of those moments she thinks about when she shouldn't be thinking about anything at all. It's one of those memories she replays while listening to Drake and contemplating how much fun it was to just be with him.
High Zayn scratches his chin. “Like the day before the day before yesterday.”
So Noa puts her drink on one of the side tables and begins to stress about her next move. Because now she knows she wants to talk to him, she wants to figure out a few things - she's tired of pretending like she has a clear idea of everything they both did right and wrong. It's all jumbling together, causing her to think none of it should've gone to where it went.
She pulls her phone out of her pocket and stares at it, and then she looks back over to Zayn who is kind of just watching for her next move too. She looks down at her phone again and decides, “I'm gonna - fuck it - I'm gonna call him.”
The line rings and rings and Noa is fighting her way back out of the house to find some quiet. It goes to voicemail before she can even get close to the door. She's thinking of leaving a message for him but then she's thinking maybe he just ignored her on purpose. Maybe he has had enough of her shit. After all, he was just trying to help and she threw the biggest fit. Her thumb presses the end call button as soon as that thought makes its way to her heart - the only organ she's letting her actions function off of at the moment.
She's finally getting out of that house and away from the party she didn't want to go to in the first place. But now she's by herself and questioning everything. She's feeling so deeply that she wants to go to Harry and apologize for everything that's gone on - even though it wasn't all her fault. No matter what happened, she just wants to start over. She wants to talk to him and say, listen, we fucked up but I care for you so much. Let's try again… please, let's try again.
It all happens so fast but she feels her mind made up...
But then never mind. Her brain is saying, hold up. You had your reasons. Calm down. It's only 10:30. He's not asleep, you know that. He ignored you on purpose. Go home.
Staring down at her phone on the chilly spring night, she's truly and completely torn. And when moments like this occur, she can usually think of only one way to resolve it - smoking by herself and thinking on it.
So, that's what she does. She goes home and finds her stash, then walks to her favorite park and smokes for hours. Her brain and heart are still having the debate when the sky starts to shift from black to purple to orange. And then, by then, she ignores them both and follows what her eyes need - a good, long bit of rest.
 authors note: wow okay!!!!! so one chapter left now!!! i have just started writing it last night so give me a week or two and we will wrap up ol’ noa and harry. i am actually very sad about it being over. i think as a writer you get so attached to the characters and the world theyre in and everything but about halfway through, you wanna make a new world with new characters (at least i did) so you kind of wanna hurry up and finish this current story... but now that its almost over, i wish i still had so much more left to write and explore. like, noa’s dad. he’d be fun to dive into but he just isnt a part of her life at the moment so that would have to be a whole other fic. and i am going to wrap up noa and sarah cherry but not in intense detail because again, that’d just be a different fic. sarah was a part of this story but really, obviously, its all about noa. and noa isnt about her mom at this point. she is kind of over the worry. and wow this note is getting long. sorry. 
anyway
what do you think is going to happen next? what do you want to happen? what do you think of noa and her friends? and what about that boy harry? he wasnt in this chapter but soooooon!!!!
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sage-nebula · 8 years ago
Note
'Augustine Sycamore' is a long name, so feel free to just do 'Augustine' or 'Sycamore'!
It’s long, but I don’t mind! I answered for my valiant dragon son’s full name; might as well answer for his papa’s, as well. ;) (Granted, I gave several paragraph responses in Alan’s, but . . .)
A — What are/were this character’s best subjects in school?
Augustine is another who never really had a “bad” subject, but science was definitely his strong suit---with a particular emphasis in biology / zoology---simply because that was what he was most interested in. Like most people, Augustine did go on a journey when he was ten, but in his teen years he decided to return to academics and ended up attending university in his late teens/early 20s (hence how and why he became the regional professor). Ever since he was a child, Augustine was the type of person who applied himself only to the subjects that most interested in. This doesn’t mean he made poor grades in other areas---on the contrary, he could put in minimal effort and still make good grades---but it just means that he wouldn’t push himself to do above the minimum if it was a subject or assignment that bored him. (And given his intelligence, along with some mental health issues, he felt bored a lot.)
But science was always interesting to him, often regardless of the type of science. He has (and has always had) a preference for biological sciences, and zoology in particular, but he also enjoys chemistry, physics, earth sciences, astronomy, and . . . well, most sciences, honestly! He also took interest in archaeology and history over the years, especially once he decided to dedicate himself to mega evolution research. Suddenly, those two subjects became very interesting, since they were directly related to something he had vested interest in. Once he developed that concentrated interest in those two areas, it became much easier for him to focus and want to participate in those classes.
U ---What’s their voice like?
Setting aside that we do have a canon voice actor for him (and I much, much prefer his Japanese voice), whenever I write Augustine’s dialogue I always imagine his voice as being somewhat in the middle, pitch-wise. Not too deep, but definitely not high, either. He rarely raises his voice, even when angry, and so it’s usually pretty even, but not to a monotonous extent. Quite the opposite, really; Augustine’s voice tends to be somewhat light, in terms of the weight the sound carries, and it’s very, very easy to hear smiles in his voice, or tell what kind of mood he’s in by how he delivers what he says (because despite rarely raising his voice, it’s just as easy to hear frowns in his voice as well). Augustine’s voice naturally carries---he’s not super loud, but he doesn’t have a soft voice either---and when he’s excited about something he tends to talk a bit faster, a bit louder. (This is especially true of him when he’s younger; his college roommate could tell stories about Augustine getting super excited about something at 2am and “waking up half the damn floor,” and though that’s an exaggeration, the roommate was woken up, so, it counts in his book.) I feel like I’m doing a really bad job of describing this, haha, but I do think he has a very pleasant voice to listen to! It’s definitely not at all a chore to listen to him talk about something. He’s very easy to learn from.
G ---How do they flirt?
No chill.
At least, he has no chill when he’s sure that what he’s doing is a good move (i.e. he knows the person is single, is reasonably certain the person is also into men, et cetera). If Augustine is pretty sure that this could only work out well for him, he goes straight for it, 0 to 100, laying on the slick moves and innuendo right off the bat. This isn’t even a headcanon, this is 100% canon, we’ve seen it. He knows what he’s about, son, and he’s not afraid to let the person he’s interested in know it. (And I keep saying “person,” but I should note that in my headcanon he is only interested in men, so.)
If he’s less sure that the person (man) is into men, or less sure if they’re single or not (or in a good place to date, et cetera), he’ll sort of touch around the issue to fish the answers out of them. Ask about their significant other, perhaps, to see if they have one, or ask about various celebrities in the media to see how the person reacts, that sort of thing. He’ll fish for information, and if the prospects then look good, he goes for it. Again, he knows what he is about. He is not shy. And life, he feels, is too short and too good to spend feeling nervous and insecure. Even if he’s turned down, well, then he’s turned down, but then it’s just the same result as if he never tried at all, isn’t it? So it’s best to just go for it. Put himself out there. See what results. Who knows? It might be something great.
U --- What’s their voice like?
Answered!
S — How stealthy are they?
Not . . . really . . . very stealthy.
It’s not that he’s very clumsy or anything, but it’s more that this isn’t a skill that Augustine ever cultivated, or ever felt a need to cultivate. His parents were always quite supportive of him and he has a good relationship with them (even though there was a period of time where his dad was very unsure about his research, feeling that mega evolution research couldn’t possibly yield a good income, he changed his mind once he saw that Augustine could be and was successful with it), and so he never really had a reason to sneak around the house or be stealthy as a child. During the time when he traveled on his journey, he similarly never encountered reasons to be sneaky. Even when it came to places he perhaps wasn’t supposed to go, Augustine was always much better at just . . . charming his way into them rather than sneaking in through a back way. And I don’t mean “charming” in a flirty way, especially when he was a kid, but more that it was always very easy for Augustine to be found likable by other people, and so they were likely to bend the rules for him since he seemed like such a . . . well, such a likable kid. To be honest, Augustine could charm people this way without even realizing he was doing it. It’s a gift.
When he returned to academia, it was basically the same deal: There was never a reason for him to cultivate stealth tactics, because even when he was in a lab after hours during university, his professors adored him to the point where they would honestly give him special access to let him use the lab for whatever (especially since he only ever used it for good things). It was never an issue. And then, of course, once he got his own lab . . . well, it’s his own lab. He doesn’t need to be sneaky there.
So Augustine never really cultivated any stealth skills, and since he’s always had a certain level of confidence about himself (not overconfidence, mind, but he’s not embarrassed of who he is), that also doesn’t lead to him trying to make himself quieter or smaller. So while I wouldn’t say he’s terrible at being stealthy, it’s also just not something that he’s ever done. He’d probably be okay if he tried, but the opportunity really hasn’t presented itself.
T ---Where are they ticklish?
Several places, most notably behind his knees, along his ribs, and under his arms. And the worst part? His son knows this. 
Specifically, Alan knows this because Augustine taught him what being ticklish meant, and Augustine taught him this because one time, way back when Alan was five or six, Augustine ran his fingers along Alan’s side as sort of a tap, just to get his attention as he said “come on, let’s go!” or something similar. Like, they were sitting on the couch, Augustine was standing up, and he just sort of poked Alan in the side to indicate that they should go. And this was how Augustine discovered that Alan was ticklish, because Alan yelped a giggle and squirmed away, his eyes wide because he had no idea why Augustine poking him like that felt that way. (Because after all, no one had ever tickled him before, so how was he supposed to know?) So Augustine sat back down and explained what being ticklish was, how it worked, and then---
“Is everyone ticklish?”
“Not everyone, but a lot of people are.”
“Are you?”
Augustine paused, and in that moment he knew he had a choice. He knew he could either tell the five (or six) year old staring at him that he was ticklish, which was the truth . . . or he could lie, say no, and potentially spare himself.
“Ah,” he said.
I want to say that, yeah, Alan was at least closer to six or already six at this point, because he had the comfort and confidence to take that verbal pause for what it was, and with all the mischief and daring that he had in him (which, honestly, was quite a bit, especially with regards to the daring), he inched closer.
“Wait,” Augustine said, but it was too late.
Alan pounced, running his fingers along Augustine’s ribs just like Augustine had done to him, and Augustine was laughing before he could stop himself, wrestling with the six-year-old who had tackled him in an impromptu tickle fight. That was the first tickle fight, but it more than likely was not the last. After all, you know how kids are. They don’t often let this kind of thing go. ;)
So yes, Augustine is definitely ticklish. That is a certainty.
I --- On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do they love themselves?
It kind of fluctuates.
For the most part, on an average day, Augustine rides at about a 7. He’s at 8 on a good day. But that said, I headcanon that Augustine does have some issues with depression; it’s nothing too serious, he’s not suicidal or anything, but particularly during his academic years---although he wanted to be there, he chose that, he loves to learn and study, the fact that he had to go through so many classes that he just did not care about stressed him out, and compounded the latent depression that is honestly there. He wouldn’t have the motivation to go to class, wouldn’t have the motivation to do the homework, but he had to do it, but he didn’t want to, and that sort of . . . spiraled. It’s a vicious cycle, you know, where this thing is bothering you / stressing you out and so you don’t do it, but then the thing grows in size and gets worse because you haven’t done it, and then it’s more stressful so you continue to procrastinate it, and then . . . you get the idea. And Augustine would know that he was doing this to himself, making this problem for himself, and he would know that the solution would be to just do the thing. But he couldn’t muster the will to do the thing, which would make him feel pretty awful about himself, because Arceus, why is he like this, why can’t he just do the thing, why is it that he can have motivation to do frivolous things that don’t matter, but he can’t have the motivation to do this super important (albeit devastatingly boring) thing he has to do in order to get his degree?
And it’s not just the stressful things, either---sometimes it would hit him out of the blue, like . . . the things he has been interested in, traditionally, have been things that other people consider to be stupid, or frivolous, or wastes of time. The skeptics about his chosen field aside, no one really understood his passion for retro things, for instance. No one really “got” his fashion sense (“Or lack of,” some of his more outspoken critics would say). Augustine always had a hard time fitting in, even with how likable he was as a kid (because I mean, you can be likable and still not “in” with the crowd, you know?), and that sort of thing did wear on him, did get to him, did make him think that, well . . . maybe he’s not normal, maybe he is weird, maybe things would be easier if he was interested in more traditional sciences and could actually finish his homework sooner than an hour before it’s due.
So he has depression issues that he struggles with sometimes, and in his younger days it was definitely more of a problem (and took him more time to be able to truly embrace and hold onto the “I don’t care if you think I’m weird, this makes me happy so bye” attitude he fully embraces later in life), and in those moments the number drops to more of a 4 or 5. But that happens a lot less frequently as he gets older, and especially less frequently once he has his lab, because honestly . . . that’s his dream. He accomplished his dream. It’s pretty hard even for his depression to make him think that he’s a weird freak once he has literally accomplished his dream. So even though he still has a bad day here or there, it’s a lot less frequent once he gets to that point in his life.
N — What do they usually eat for breakfast?
It depends on the day. If it’s more of a relaxing day, when he has time to mill around before getting ready for work, then he’ll have something warm for breakfast that actually involves cooking (however minimal), such as eggs and toast, or waffles---something of that nature. If it’s going to be a busy day, or he’s not that hungry, he’ll have a pastry and maybe some fruit to go with it. He always drinks coffee in the morning, too. 
It should also be noted that he started putting more effort into nutritionally valuable breakfasts after taking in Alan, because he wanted to set a good example. Prior to that he’d maybe eat a granola bar, or a bowl of cereal, or cake for breakfast. But he realized, and very early on at that, that cake is probably not the best breakfast for a five-year-old, and as the adult it was his job to lead by example, so . . . he started eating legitimate breakfasts after he became a parent.
E — How are they with children?
THE BEST PAPA. Augustine is patient, kind, and nurturing. He’s respectful, too; even if the child is five, they have thoughts and feelings, and those thoughts and feelings are no less legitimate just because they’re young. So he genuinely listens to them, he has patience for their questions, and even if he does have to sometimes put his foot down (e.g. making sure Alan eats breakfast, for instance, or setting the rule that Alan can’t just leave the house/lab without supervision when he’s really young), he does so in a way that doesn’t condescend to them, and tries to explain where he’s coming from so they can understand. And on that note, he’s open to dialogue; like I said, he respects that they have thoughts and feelings, so he discusses things with kids. Sure, he knows more than they do from an objective standpoint because he’s an adult with more experience, but they have a perspective that he doesn’t because they’re their own person. He acknowledges and respects that.
He likes to have fun with them, and is great at playing with them. He’s an excellent teacher. And however many people might have had doubts about him scooping up Alan and bringing him home, he’s been an excellent father. The best. ♥ (Which of course isn’t to say that there haven’t been mistakes here or there---Augustine was learning, it was all new to him!---but for the most part, he has been the best, most definitely.)
S — How stealthy are they?
Answered!
Y — What is one question they’ve always wanted an answer to?
It’s less “one question” and more “a bunch of smaller questions that make up a greater whole.”
Augustine feels---and has always felt---that the universe is an ever-changing, ever-evolving nebula of answers. The answers themselves vary; they’re answers to simple questions, but they’re also answers to more existential questions pertaining to the purpose of people and pokémon on the planet, both on an individual and overall scale. And these questions are questions that Augustine wants to ask, these answers are answers that he wants to know. He wants to experience them for himself. And so throughout his life he’s sort of chased this feeling, that there’s something out there that he is meant to discover, that he is meant to know. He didn’t know what it was for the longest time, but whenever he came across something new or exciting, something which captured and held his interest, he thought that this must be it, and so he pursued it until he learned. But it didn’t stop there, because then he found something else that he wanted to study and learn, and so he went about his life, chasing knowledge and thriving on the experience of . . . well, experiencing it all!
But I think that at the core of most of the things that enthralled him is the relationship between people and pokémon, and how these two forces work in harmony (or disharmony, depending). This is why he was drawn to mega evolution; the concept that people and pokémon could work to balance and aid one another in such a profound way is one that certainly attracted him. The mysticism of it aside, Augustine felt that it was an extremely powerful representation of what could be accomplished when people and pokémon came together, so he focused his attention on that.
So really, I guess the answer is “the true extent of the relationship between people and pokémon,” but it’s really everything surrounding that, too. He wants to experience and learn it all, if possible.
C — Can they swim well?
Yes! He’s actually a good swimmer. He used to swim a lot more in university as a way to get exercise. He doesn’t really have access to a pool nowadays, but he still does enjoy swimming whenever he gets the chance.
A — What are/were this character’s best subjects in school?
Answered!
M — What is their favourite dessert?
Although he doesn’t have quite as big of a sweet tooth as Alan, Augustine does like a wide variety of desserts, and it’s hard to find one he’ll say “no” to. However, the one he most often orders for himself when he’s eating at restaurants that serve it is probably a cappuccino souffle. I mean, souffles are just good ordinarily, but if it’s nice and sweet and tastes a bit of coffee? What’s not to love about that?
O — What would it take to break them, inside and out?
Honestly . . . I think few things could break him as utterly as killing Alan would (though I think killing Gabrielle would come very, very close, if not hit that same mark).
I mean, obviously losing any of his loved ones would devastate him, certainly. Seeing any child die is not going to be something he’s okay with. But I think, even though I’ve never been a parent to a human child myself, that there’s something special about the grief one experiences when their child dies. I mean, there’s that saying that, “a parent should never have to bury their child,” and I think there’s really something to that. Augustine is older than Alan by twenty years; by all accounts, he should be the one to die first, shouldn’t he? Due to old age, or illness, or---or whatever, it doesn’t matter. He’s the parent, he’s older, it’s expected that Alan is going to outlive him. Alan should outlive him, that’s how this should be, that’s how this story should go.
But if it doesn’t . . . I mean, again, I’m not speaking from personal experience here, but from reading the personal experiences of others, it just seems like there’s a special kind of grief and pain that losing your child causes. You have the grief of losing a loved one, but also . . . that’s your child, that’s your baby. And, no, Alan’s not Augustine’s biological child, Augustine didn’t know him when he was a baby-baby, but that doesn’t matter. Adoption is just as real, just as important, it matters just as much. And Alan was five when Augustine took him in. He wasn’t an infant or a toddler, but in my eyes he was still a baby. In Augustine’s eyes he certainly was. And so for him to die, or be killed somehow . . . it just kind of compounds the grief, you know, that would already be there. It sort of devastates in the way other tragedies wouldn’t because that’s his kid, his son, and he was supposed to protect and take care of him, but even setting that aside, he . . . he was only a child, only (say) fifteen / sixteen, he was so young, and even setting that aside, like---Augustine knows that Alan was (oh god, the past tense) a teenager, he knows that, but he still can’t help but remember him as the six-year-old ecstatic because he has his very own lab coat now, or the seven-year-old who excitedly ran up to him to tell him that Jigsaw, one of their zigzagoon, had evolved. He can’t help but remember the ten-year-old who carried a charmander in the hood of his lab coat, or the eleven-year-old whose voice cracked for the first time. Like, yeah, Alan was a teenager, but in so many ways he was still a child. Or, more accurately, he was Augustine’s child, and now Augustine has to bury him and attend a funeral service for him, and that---
I just feel like, of all the things that could wreck him, this would wreck him the most, and for the longest time. It’s not something that he would really “get over,” you know, even if it slowly (very, very slowly) got “easier” over time. Like, it would never really get easier, he would just get better at faking it in front of others, at holding it together in front of others who may be upset or pretending that nothing’s wrong in front of strangers. But it would be pretty hollow, because at the end of the day . . . it’s not like before, when Alan was just traveling, somewhere out there in the world, maybe not calling home but at least alive and safe (or at least enough so that Augustine could tell himself that was the case). Now he knows, for a fact, where Alan is. Alan is dead, and Augustine can visit his gravestone (and the charizard who won’t move away from it, in that one AU of the Flare arc I wrote that one time), but that . . . that’s so much worse.
So yeah, I really feel like this would wreck him the most. Which, you know, considering what has already happened in To Devour the Sun, and what comes next . . .
R — What are their hands like?
Rather like Alan, despite the fact that they aren’t biologically related, Augustine has long, slender fingers. And, quite like Alan, his hands are also covered in various scars, but this time they’re all from scratches and bites (including one from Gabrielle---seriously, like father, like son) from various pokémon. To that end, Augustine usually has at least one or two little new scratches on his hands, because even though he’s very good with pokémon, he also plays with them a lot, and sometimes play can get a little rough. His nails are usually short, but uneven; he doesn’t take the time to file them down, but they break well enough on their own due to the work he does. And he has a lot of writing callouses, too.
E — How are they with children?
Answered!
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jeroldlockettus · 6 years ago
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Extra: Domonique Foxworth Full Interview
Domonique Foxworth began his career in the N.F.L. in 2005 — a torn A.C.L. in 2010 set him on a different path. (Photo: Ronald Martinez/Getty)
Stephen Dubner’s conversation with the former N.F.L. player, union official, and all-around sports thinker, recorded for our “Hidden Side of Sports” series.
Listen and subscribe to our podcast at Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, or elsewhere. Below is a transcript of the episode, edited for readability. 
*      *      *
This a Freakonomics Radio extra, our full interview with Domonique Foxworth, who appeared in bits and pieces in our “Hidden Side of Sports” series. I’ve known Foxworth for a while now; he’s one of the most thoughtful athletes I’ve ever encountered. But this conversation surpassed my already high expectations — not just his thoughtfulness but his willingness to wrestle with contradiction, and his hardcore candor. As you’ll hear in this episode, he was an N.F.L. player for several years, then served as president of the N.F.L. players’ union and, after getting an M.B.A. from Harvard, was the C.O.O. of the N.B.A. players’ union. It turns out he didn’t like that job too much; you’ll hear why. As the conversation begins, Foxworth is talking about his belief that the professional sports players’ unions should be dissolved. I asked why …
FOXWORTH: Yeah, where we are at, with professional athletes and how big a business it’s gotten, and how well they are compensated, I think it’s a product of sacrifices made by players coming up. And many players lost long seasons, were black-balled out of the league and had their careers really torn apart by their ambitions of free agency and pensions, and all those things. And they never really got to fully reap the benefits from that. And back in those days, the unions — the player unions were a lot like what we think of as traditional labor unions. But we’ve got to a point now where it’s not like that. And with the length of a player’s career, and how much money they could stand to make in a season, it’s really not in their best interest. Mathematically, logically, if you go through the numbers, it’s not in their best interest to actually withstand a lockout or to initiate a strike. They will not make that money back. It’s just physically impossible.
The reason why they would do it is to further the cause, I guess, for players in the future. But since you can’t hand your position down to your son or daughter, then it really doesn’t seem to make sense. So for me, I can use me as an example, I sacrificed from the time I was — I don’t know — probably in high school, is when I started to forgo other opportunities or other decisions to focus more on football. Then I’m in college and I wanted to be a computer — I did computer graphics and some computer science in high school, and then in college I wanted to be a computer science major, at University of Maryland. And my academic adviser was like, “That course load is going to make it very difficult for you to make our practices, there are labs, and blah, blah, blah, blah.” So I was like, “No, not going to do that.” During the summers, when there was —
DUBNER: So instead, you did — was it American Studies?
FOXWORTH: Yeah, I did American Studies.
DUBNER: And journalism, right? Which just shows how easy what I do is, that you could do it and another major while playing football. But anyway, go ahead.
FOXWORTH: No, I enjoyed those. And it was good, but it wasn’t what I wanted to do. And in the summers when people were getting internships or whatever, I was working out and getting ready for football. And I say all that to say, once I got to the league, then I got drafted and I was in the third round, so that’s — it’s money, it’s good money, but it’s not life-changing money. It doesn’t makeup for all the things that you have given up through the course of your life. And then I come up on free agency, and that’s when I got a pretty nice deal. I can’t imagine if somebody was like, “No, you’ve got to sit out right now.”
And then when you think about it, it’s competition obviously, because you are competing in this lockout or strike with the owners, whereas it does make sense for them to withstand a lockout, because they own their teams into perpetuity so if they win a lockout for a tenth of a percentage point or even a whole percentage point of revenue split, that is something that will maybe $3 million a franchise, for this season. And it will go up as things grow, and it goes on and on and on. So if you are in the old fashioned mindset of labor strikes is the only way to get anything, you are — players in all sports are severely mismatched.
DUBNER: It’s interesting to hear you say, though, that that would be the reason to maybe not have players unions, because a lockout or strike I guess — the lockout is what the owners do, a strike what the players can do — even a strike threat is rarely — is pretty rare. Once every whatever, five to 10 years, depending on when a given union’s collective bargaining agreement is up, right? so you I know — you were playing football in the N.F.L. when the lockout happened. It was 2011, right? And I know that the N.F.L. Players Association was basically telling you guys, “Put away as much money as you can, and maybe you might want to switch to regular gas from unleaded,” all this stuff. Can you talk about that experience and how you were thinking that might happen?
FOXWORTH: Yeah, I was heavily involved in the negotiations, so I remember that. I remember trying to get all the players ready. But the fact of the matter is, the players are severely outmatched if you’re going to try to match up with money, with owners. We’re not going to be able to outlast how long they can go without making money. As far as influence on the media, they have that also. And trying to fight them in that traditional way — you’re destined for failure. It would seem. The point of decertification is, as long as we have a union, we have to agree over collective bargaining. Once you dissolve the union, then you expose the league to anti-trust law, which frankly, the N.F.L. existed for several years very lucratively for the players without a union. And the league was exposed to antitrust law. That’s what precipitated free agency in football.
And the only reason why the N.F.L. Players Association was reconstituted was because the N.F.L. made it a stipulation of the settlement. You must reform a union to allow us to operate as a legal cartel/monopoly. That’s only reason why we exist, frankly and I was the president of the union. I was the C.O.O. of the N.B.A. Players for a time. And I recognize the union provides a great deal of value. But I think frankly that protection is more value to the leagues than it is to the players. In whatever job anyone has, in your job, they can’t institute a salary cap. They can’t do a draft and say like, “Hey, all the doctors that graduate this year, we’re going to draft you and tell you where you go.” You have some say in those things, because they are forced to abide by the regular laws that everyone else abides by.
DUBNER: Regular labor laws, not union provisions. Wow. So how would you have the scenario look? Every league’s different. But obviously, college football is this weird, unpaid, high risk — that’s a whole other financial ecosystem. Why don’t we just start with talking about how N.C.A.A. football works as a feeder system for the N.F.L., and what that does for or to the athletes.
FOXWORTH: I think we’re at a point now where most people kind of understand that college sports is professional sports. In select cases. So obviously, the vast majority of college sports are not professional sports. But the two kinds of big money sports, in the power five conferences, they generate a substantial amount of revenue, and that revenue goes to lots of people who are not the labor. So it goes to supporting other sports, it goes to building bigger and better facilities, it goes to paying college presidents and coaches and funding the N.C.A.A. It goes a lot of different places, but it doesn’t go to the people who are the labor on the field.
And another thing that complicates that — it would be a problem if that was the end of the story and every player then went on to have N.F.L. careers. It would be unfair, but whatever, you’re not going to lose any sleep for those guys. But the vast majority of the guys — and I have several teammates who, because it is not considered work, they’re not privy to workers compensation. They’re not privy to extended health care. So I have a few teammates who have torn A.C.L.s, separated shoulders, torn labrums and hips and shoulders, lots of injuries that — one of my best friends in college, I think it was a few years ago, his doctor told him that he was going to have to have both of his knees replaced by the time he was 50. And he didn’t play professional sports. He had three knee surgeries while in college. And there’s nothing that any college football team or governing body is going to do for him in that case. And that to me is tragic that a lot of people benefited from that.
And again, he had aspirations to play professional football. So while he was in college, he made all the decisions that people who have those aspirations do, where you don’t necessarily go after the major that you’re most interested in, or the major that’s going to lead to a career. You have the major that’s going to allow you to focus on what’s most important, which is sports, unfortunately. And I know many people would say that maybe that shouldn’t be so important, but it’s hard when that carrot’s out there, it’s hard to convince somebody to try to balance and try to do both things well, when it’s like, “No, I need to do as well as I can at this, because this is a life-changing opportunity, not just your life, but a generational shifting opportunity.” And you have a chance at it, and someone is going to tell you no? “How about you don’t go do that summer workout that’s going to get you closer to — how about you take an internship or something. How about you do take that tougher major.” You’re going to miss a few practices. The coaches may not start you. And it will stunt your development. That just doesn’t make sense.
DUBNER: So, the old fashioned argument for why this was okay and why it was acceptable was that, well, this is like what economists call a tournament model, whenever you got a lot of people competing for the top of the pyramid, whether it’s show-business or sports or, whatever, the bottom of the pyramid, there’s lots and lots and lots and lots of people there willing to do whatever it takes for practically no money. It’s this weird, unpaid apprenticeship. And I guess some people accept that as okay. Others don’t. But what strikes me that’s especially noteworthy about sports is the degree and magnitude of sacrifice, physical and otherwise, is larger, I would argue, than trying to become an actor, trying to become a writer, and whatnot. So can you just talk about that component of it a little bit more, and what you think would be a better solution?
FOXWORTH: Bringing up the tournament model is interesting, because I can understand how some people would look at that and say that it fits here and that’s why this is fair. But as a country, we’ve decided that that wasn’t fair a long time ago. That’s not — there are plenty of jobs where that’s true, just about every job. The barista at Starbucks. There are plenty of people out there who are capable of being baristas, and you could probably allow Starbucks to pit them against each other and negotiate down, down, down, down, down. But that’s not the case. We’ve instituted minimum wages and instituted lots of other laws to protect American people or American workers from these type of capitalistic urges run amok.
And the thing that’s frustrating to me is, we’ve instituted rules in professional sports, that happen to take place on college campuses. We instituted rules that are to the advantages of the institutions. But we are not interested in instituting any rules that are — that are things that we accept as just facts and fair. You’ll be hard pressed to find anyone in our society that’s like, “No, let’s eliminate the minimum wage and allow this tournament model to run amok for low wage workers.”
DUBNER: Well the other argument though, in colleges, is — again this may be a purely specious argument from your perspective, maybe partially specious. But the other argument is, wait a minute. Free education, four years of college. What’s that worth?
FOXWORTH: So there’s two major issues that jump out for me from the education. The players are brought to the school because of their athletic prowess. There are many players who I’ve been around and I know that were not prepared to benefit. So, what they’re receiving is, steps 10, 11, and 12 when what they’re building on is steps 1, 2, and 3, if that makes any sense. So that education, frankly, is worthless to them. They’re in there trying to get eligible. And then there is the other people who show up who are prepared like me and like other people that then make all these decisions.
Because you’re not even getting the same education as the people around you, because you have to travel on Thursdays and Fridays, and you are not allowed to do certain majors because they conflict with your schedule. And three times a week, during the winter session or the spring session, you have to go to 5:00 a.m. workouts and that changes your academic experience. There are all these things that are mandatory because your scholarship is year to year, and you don’t have any power to negotiate with your coach and say things like, “I want to take this so I’m not going to able to go there.” That’s just not a thing that is available. So the education that they’re receiving is not the education that people think it is.
DUBNER: This is a gigantic question and it’s such a big industry already that there’s obviously no easy, quick solution that would satisfy even close to everybody, but what solution or solutions do you think are most viable that would, let’s say, keep big-time college sports intact in a way that the market would need them to be intact — in other words, there’s massive audiences out there that really like it — but all those dollars, as you’ve noted, don’t flow to the people who actually produce the labor. So what would be a way to equilibrate that a little bit, or make more people less unhappy at least?
FOXWORTH: The thing that frustrates me about that conversation is you’re always asked to add something, to change a rule to fix it. Whereas I feel we should blow it up altogether and follow, frankly, the model that this country has followed up until now, is that you strive for a free market and then you institute rules to make it fairer. So that’s where we should go. Let’s not try to add a rule or provide a stipend for players. No, let the schools go after these players the same way anyone else would go after any other employee. And then if we notice that there are issues along the way, then we can add rules to fix those. I think trying to inch our way back is not the way to get to the fairest possible system.
DUBNER: If you were going to blow up the system, would you even connect that pre-professional sports league, meaning college, would you even connect that to universities at all, or is that an accident of history that is the root of the problem, essentially?
FOXWORTH: I think it’s definitely an accident of history. I know you and your son are big soccer or footy fans —
DUBNER: You can call it soccer. That’s all right. That’s okay.
FOXWORTH: That’s not the model that they follow. This is a purely American model. This college athletics being a feeder system to professional athletics. And it’s probably — not probably, it is more unnatural, I would think, than these other systems. So I understand that it is the way that our country developed, and I understand the allure of being connected to a college that you went to, or a college you grew up around. And I’m not saying that you — you have to dissolve that altogether. You can allow them to — many of them, obviously they are nonprofit organizations, but they understand how to exist in a for-profit environment, they do go after different professors and they negotiate over those terms, this is something that they are accustomed to.
They negotiate with coaches, they don’t have to go that far — With their coaches and assistant coaches, they understand how the free market works. So Jimbo Fisher is a good example of it. He was the coach at Florida State. He brought them a national championship, and then Texas A&M offered him a better situation and he up and left, and then Florida State went and got Willie Taggart from Oregon. This is not something — while they want to pretend that it is a completely pure system, they know how this works, and every other year Alabama has to pay Nick Saban a little bit more to keep him at the top of the list. This is not something that that is brand new to them. I don’t see why it’s any different from going into a kid’s living room and saying, well, we want you to come here. We can offer you X, Y, and Z. But it just — it makes people feel uncomfortable, but there’s nothing wrong with it.
DUBNER: So it’s interesting — correct me if I’m wrong. I probably am, but it seems like there’s a weird paradox here. You’re calling for the decertification or the blowing up of professional sports’ players unions, because you feel they don’t really work well — work in the interest of the athletes who need to make their money now, careers being so short. But it sounds like college athletes have zero collective representation, and a union for them might actually do some good. Or do you think that’s not a solution?
FOXWORTH: No, I think that they’ve tried and failed. Ramogi Huma at one point was leading that effort, and it hasn’t worked. But I do think that them having a seat at the table with some leverage would be helpful, because any time you have — and this is what’s happened in college sports for a long time now, is you have a bunch of people in a room setting up the parameters of the game. But there’s one group — there’s only one group that’s not allowed in that room. And of course that — it’s just human nature. That group is going to be the group that is perpetually slighted. So I think that college athletes are in a different space than professional athletes. So having a union — if the college athletes could organize to the point where they would just stop showing up to games, and that’s an impossible thing to ask them, because again, it goes back to this is my one chance. But if they were able to at least threaten that, that’s how they could get some significant change.
DUBNER: So given the history and the dollars and the emotions that are attached to college sports overall, how likely do you see any kind of substantial evolution or change, even in the next 10 or 20 years?
FOXWORTH: Yeah, it’s clear that the opinion in public is shifting towards wanting athletes to be fairly compensated. But I don’t know that they’re going to stop watching. So I don’t know where the pressure comes from, honestly. We’re already at a majority of society. I think it’s different across age and in racial demographics, but there will come a point, particularly as some young people get older, where all adults believe and accept that college athletes should be paid. But this ties into the union conversation. What is going to force them to act?
In the same way that a lockout or a strike is not necessarily going to force owners to act, in the same way that antitrusts or antitrust exposure would force them to act. This is true here too. I do think if collegiate athletes just stop showing up to big time games and tournaments, that would force them to act. But I don’t see them doing it because they only have four years of eligibility, which means they only have four years to show professional teams that they’re good enough to play. So it’s, again, not in their interest to do that. The only other thing is if the public stopped watching because of it, and I don’t necessarily see that happening, so I’m not sure how we get to this point.
DUBNER: The other thing that’s tricky is that the guys with the least incentive to change it are the ones for whom the system works, which is to say the stars in the system, right? If you really think that being a college athlete, whether in basketball for one year or football for three or four years, that you are going to have a professional career, you don’t want to rock the boat because you’re there now. So I don’t see how they would have an incentive to even pretend to want a change. Do you?
FOXWORTH: Yeah, I think you linking these two is very important, because it’s pretty accurate — it isn’t in their best interests. Those guys who are on the doorsteps of having professional careers, it’s not really in their best interest to stop this now. And you also bring into account the people who are benefiting most from it who are not on the field, there’s really no benefit to the coaches who — because coaches salaries are inflated because they have extra money, because they are not sending it to the players. And the rest of the teams who are funded by money generated by football and basketball. There’s no incentive there — there’s just the athletes who don’t have much power.
DUBNER: It is interesting that in the N.F.L., a coach might make a quarter or maybe even a tenth of what his top star player is making, right? But in college you make infinitely more because they’re all getting zero. If I were to think of someone who could try to get in there and navigate diplomatically and also bust skulls and who knows what they’re talking about, you’re the guy actually, because first of all, you’ve been a professional football player. You were also president of the Players Union in the N.F.L. But then, you’re the only person I know of at all — correct me if I’m wrong — the only person I know of who’s ever been associated with the N.F.L. and the N.B.A. as this chief operating officer for the N.B.A. Players Union, correct?
FOXWORTH: Right.
DUBNER: So you’ve got the two major college sports — you’ve got those credentials, right? You also happen to have an M.B.A. from Harvard. Yes?
FOXWORTH: That’s a thing.
DUBNER: That’s a thing. Am I wrong to think that you sometimes do think about being the person to try to go downstream from pro sports and into college and say, “Hey, if you actually want to treat people properly, the place to do it is here. And yes, we do need to blow up the system.”
FOXWORTH: I don’t, honestly. And maybe that’s yelling about unfairness from the sidelines and not necessarily getting involved, maybe that’s the wrong way to go about it. But I don’t know. I agree with you, it’s not complicated, but I do think it’s complex, and that can be intimidating, and I don’t know the way. You brought up business school. One of the things we, in the entrepreneurship classes that I took there, talked a lot about how little people know about what their business is going to become, and how many times it pivots and changes and how not knowing what you’re going to do is okay. It’s like you bet on the person more so than the idea. You bet that the person will figure it out.
I don’t have any clue, honestly, where to start with this, and that’s more intimidating. I feel pretty close to 85 percent confident about the idea that unions should decertify in professional sports, because I fully understand that. I’ve been through this and I know that if they operate as trade associations, they can still provide a lot of the services to players that players get from the union, and it doesn’t really hurt them. The scary part is, maybe you no longer have a league minimum for players, and that creates a tournament thing that you’re talking about. I understand the ins and outs, I understand that in a way that I don’t understand the landscape of college sports. I don’t know.
DUBNER: I guess I just look at it as a thought experiment. If you could take someone that doesn’t know anything about sports at all and say, “Hey, what if we have this system where workers are going to perform a set of tasks. Let’s say 50 hours a week, for four years, at this place, and then they’re going to perform essentially the same set of tasks in a different place. And in each case, 80,000 people come and watch them and millions more watch them on T.V. But in one case they get paid, let’s say, an average salary of whatever, $2, $3 million a year, and the other they get paid zero. And they’re the same people.” How — in what universe does that make any sense? That’s the thought experiment that I think would lead to a reassessment that —
FOXWORTH: That’s the thing it’s — another thing that I’ve come to learn in professional life is that logic is useless in some cases. The thought experiment that you just took me through is a wonderful one that proves the example, but people don’t act based on thought experiments. They act in reaction to incentives and pressure, and those sorts of things. So a couple of things that we talked about — and I think creating another place, creating real competition, because the fact that they are a monopsony now, meaning that they can — that’s the only place you can go — that exists in part because of the unions, both professional football and basketball. So basketball forces the players to be one year removed from high school, before they can enter the league, which forces them to then find an alternative. Maybe they can go overseas. But if they want to stay in America, they have to play college basketball.
Football is three years removed, and there is no real, viable, professional football leagues elsewhere, so you have to go to college. What the N.B.A. is doing now with the D-League, and they’ve started something called the Junior N.B.A., they’re building that infrastructure, whether intentionally or not. They are certainly building an infrastructure, infrastructure to create an academy system that is an alternative to college athletics and I know they’ve discussed the idea and they probably are going to remove the one and done rule in the next C.B.A. And some players will start going straight into these N.B.A. academies or into these D-League teams rather than going to college. And that might change the system. In football, I don’t think that there is much hope to change that anytime soon. I guess maybe if basketball changes then football has to change.
DUBNER: Well, what’s to stop me? Let’s say I’m an entrepreneur and I say, “The N.F.L. Players Association,” — which is a sworn enemy of the N.F.L. in many cases, in many instances, but they’re also colluding with them to basically get free labor for three or four years from all these athletes. What to stop me from saying, well, why don’t I work up an alternative and I will create some kind of league, that is pre-professional that would satisfy the N.F.L. draft rules, I guess. On the other hand, they can change those rules at will and put me out of business on day one, I guess, right?
FOXWORTH: Right. They could, but I don’t think they would. The major problem is network effects. You need to have a critical mass of the best players for the other best players to come, because the guys need to hone their skills and they need their skills to be matched up against other players, so that you can know. Maybe for basketball it might be a little different, because it seems to be that often they pick out those guys early on, and they turn out to be really good. But with football, if you get the top 50 players, top 50 incoming freshmen, to go build a league with you, which I think is — would be really hard to do. But if you do that, that’s still not even close to enough. You need them — and again, basketball, everyone plays the same position, everyone blocks, shoots, jumps, plays defense. Football it’s like, “Oh, so we’ve got to get —” It just seems like a really hard thing to do to build a real alternative.
DUBNER: Well let me ask you this: so the alternative to this, the purely cutthroat capitalist version, is the Academy model that soccer clubs around the world practice, right? And there, you’ve often got kids, very young kids, sometimes really — eight, nine, 10. But usually, 11, 12, early teens, going into academies and basically becoming sort of unpaid professionals, although not fully unpaid. And that is an alternative. But A, if you don’t make it into the professional level, which the vast majority, just numbers being what they are, won’t, then you have a weird — you’ve been removed from mainstream education and whatnot for a long time.
But also, I look at the flip side — you as an athlete and as a student, you may think it would have been better for you to have had the choice between professional sports and a career that was not sports. But on the other hand, you went to college and played sports. They went together. And then even though you say this system is not optimal for anyone, and certainly not for you, you graduated from Maryland. You played in the N.F.L. You had a union position, then in the N.B.A. as well. And then you got a Harvard M.B.A. So I could look at that and say man, I’m really glad that Domonique Foxworth was not sent to a football academy at age 13 to become a semi-professional. So now, maybe you’re just an outlier, but who knows.
FOXWORTH: So Jay-Z sold drugs, grew up in Marcy Projects to a single mother. Now he is a multi-multi-millionaire married to Beyonce, the most amazing talent we have today. So, why don’t we set it up so that all young men must sell drugs when they’re kids, and have only their mother and grow up in Marcy Projects in Brooklyn, New York? He had a great talent and to be honest, there’s probably a great deal of luck, he’ll speak to that, in that he happened to not be there when one of his friends got arrested, and his friend didn’t snitch on him. That is a lot of luck. And the same thing is true for me. I can go through the course of my life and look at all the things that happened that were just happenstance that led me to these positions, and I’m not going to say that it’s a model that should be followed. Just — I understand that there are occasional outliers, but trying to build around that seems crazy.
DUBNER: Let me ask you a very narrow specific question, but I’m just curious what you can tell me, because again, you’re one of the few people I know and maybe the only person there is who’s been in both the N.F.L. Players Association, had a position in that union, and a position the N.B.A. Players Union. So the two sports — even though we lump them together a lot— pro football and pro basketball — from a labor perspective, they’re pretty different, right? So there’s 53 on a team in the N.F.L. Just 12 in the N.B.A. But then additionally there’s visibility. We see the N.B.A. player — we see their faces. N.F.L. we usually don’t. And also the salary — average salary is much, much higher in the N.B.A., in part because there are so many fewer players for the money to go around. With all those differences between two sports that we tend to lump in together, what are the differences in either what the union tries to accomplish for those labor forces, or any other related differences?
FOXWORTH: Yeah, the power dynamics are obviously very different between the players in the union and the players in the league, and also consequently, the union and the league. LeBron James, he is more powerful than anybody, in the league, any owner, any team, anybody in the union, any player. He has more power and influence over that league than anybody else. There’s no one like that in the N.F.L. So that is — as are all things — it is a gift and a curse. There is a silver lining and a cloud that comes with having such a concentration of power and influence in any one person. So that changes the dynamics.
Fundamentally the things that the players want and that the union want to accomplish, they’re not very different. Honestly, they’re pretty similar in what you want to accomplish. But how you go about doing it is very different. So obviously, I wouldn’t speak about anything directly that I experienced while I was at either place, but this is one thing that I noticed, that, while working at the N.B.A. Players Association, was, the commissioner and LeBron James — the commissioner and Kevin Durant — they are more peers than anybody else. And they have a relationship, and they have conversations. That’s not something you have to concern yourself with. And frankly, when we were in negotiations, that was — it was nice to be able to actually be that liaison, when I was with the N.F.L. Players Association. The commissioner and the owners, they did not know how the players felt or what the players thought, unless they got it from us.
DUBNER: Do you attribute that difference, then, to the leverage that players have in part because basketball is different from football, or do you attribute that to some kind of either history or philosophy or economic leverage that N.F.L. owners have that is really different from N.B.A. owners?
FOXWORTH: Those all play a part in it. But fundamentally, it comes down to value, and I — while you brought up that there are fewer players in the N.B.A., and that’s part of the reason why the players get paid more. Yeah, that’s true. But LeBron James is more valuable to any single team as a talent or even as a marketing vehicle than anybody in the N.F.L. So that matters. You can go back through history and what Michael Jordan was able to create was a model, and player — he built on players before him, where the best basketball player is something that matters. And the best football player doesn’t matter in that way. I’m not sure that —I would also say that the person who is being most taken advantage of, honestly, in all of this, is probably Lebron James.
DUBNER: How do you mean?
FOXWORTH: The existence of the max salary in basketball — and again, we talk about these relationships and we often just talk about groups as if they’re monoliths, all N.B.A. owners feel like this. All commissioners and people in league offices feel like this. All players feel like this. All unions — it’s not true. The rise of the max salary was in part because the N.B.A. owners wanted to — and this was — max salary came before my time. But N.B.A. owners wanted to be able to control the salaries, because that’s who was driving the salaries up, is the best players — best players drive the salaries up. So N.B.A. owners want to be able to control that. And the middle class of players wanted to make more money.
So those guys’ interests were aligned in that case, let’s cap LeBron James, or let’s cap this guy, because that will take more money out of the system and put — allow the owners to put more in their pockets. But in a cap system if you have a floor, that also forced them to give more of it to us middle guys who aren’t really — so what ends up happening is, a lot of those guys get more than they, frankly, are worth. And LeBron James and people like him get a lot less than they deserve.
DUBNER: This happened in the N.F.L., too, didn’t it, right, with the different value attached to draft picks? Right? That year in the C.B.A., right? So all of a sudden the top draft pick was probably worth about a lot — 30 or 40 percent less than the same person had been a year before. Yeah?
FOXWORTH: I would quibble slightly with the word worth, and — paid, because I think the worth and how much they’re paid are two different things. But if you had a true — and the N.B.A. obviously has — the N.F.L. has a salary cap and the N.B.A. has luxury taxes and a cap which creates a de facto cap. And Major League Baseball, while it is uncapped, they still have instituted a number of rules that, last time I checked, the lowest percentage of league revenue goes to baseball players, while they have these enormous contracts, if you put together all the money that’s going to players, they are lowest of all the three major sports.
DUBNER: So let me ask you this. Let’s say someone listening to you says to themself, “I like sports. I played a little bit in high school, whatever, and I think it’s an amazing endeavor. Right? It scratches some itches that nothing else can. But I also like fairness and treating people with respect and also paying them what they’re worth. How do I reconcile that, as a fan of professional sports, and college sports, where you’re saying there’s all kinds of reasons to be frustrated, if not more than that?”
FOXWORTH: Frankly, you don’t. You don’t have to. It’s an interesting irony in that sports is a place that we consider it a very controlled environment and it’s as close to a meritocracy as we have, and we feel like it is fairness. Whoever wins on the game, on the field, is the better team. You aren’t necessarily — and it’s not — obviously it’s not true in life. The people who win in life are disproportionately people who are from wealthy parents and who have certain connections that — but you look at the field and we convince ourselves that once you step out there, it’s all fair, and it feels that way.
That doesn’t extend to the business of sports. And people who are interested in the business of sports, I certainly encourage them to learn more and to get involved in this, but the business of sports is much more business than it is sport. So I understand that there are lots of people who don’t care about this and aren’t interested in this, and I am not asking them to care or be interested. I just hope that they don’t get in with limited information. I love going to movies but I don’t necessarily want to get into the weeds of all the issues that happen in production.
DUBNER: Right. So talk for a minute about you as an athlete, as a kid, and I’m curious to know what the transition was like, when it went from something that you love to do — for whatever reasons you love to do it, whether it was pure fun or competition, or being good, whatever — the transition to when you realized it was something that was going to be a profession and a career, and how getting into the business of sport changed your view of it.
FOXWORTH: I was eight when I decided I wanted to be a professional football player. Actually, I was younger than that. I Remember because we lived — my dad was in the military, so we lived a couple different places. And I remember being in an apartment we lived in in Indianapolis, and I told my father I wanted to be a professional football player, and he told me, I don’t know if he believed me or not, but I suspect that he didn’t, but he told me, “All right, well, you set a goal, you should do something to get you closer to that goal every day.” And I took that to heart. So I did a bunch of pushups and sit ups that night, until I was throwing up, it’s ridiculous. And then my father — I assume — tried to teach me about moderation the next day. Like, “Hey, why don’t you take some smaller steps?” I was in love with the game, in part because of how violent it was.
Honestly, whatever warped sense of masculinity I had at that age, that probably has not fully left me was like, “Basketball is for the soft kids. Football is for the men. And I want to play football.” And to get back to the original question that you asked, I don’t remember not thinking that I was going to go. It’s weird, I was young enough then to be naive enough to think, “Obviously, I’m going to play in the N.F.L.” And as I got to an age to realize not everyone plays N.F.L., I also was one of the few kids who colleges wanted to talk to.
I think around high school, when — I worked from the time when I was old enough to — I was too old to go to summer camp — I started to work. And that was only two summers before colleges started inviting me to football camps. I would go to those football camps and realize, “Oh shit, this is an audition, this isn’t camp.” This isn’t football camp. I was 13 when I went to Art Monk’s full-pad football camp. And I didn’t get an invitation. I just wanted to go. And I still have the report card that they gave me that said that I maybe could play Division II college football. And then the next two —
DUBNER: How did you feel about that?
FOXWORTH: I was heartbroken and defiant at the same time. But everybody has these — those type of stories.
DUBNER: What position where you playing at the time?
FOXWORTH: I was playing running back and safety, which was probably part of the problem because they — they separated us by age at that point and not by weight. I was very small — too small to be a running back. So after that year, then at 14, I was old enough to work, so I worked the next two or then — yeah, I think I worked for — might have the years off, might have been 12 at Art Monk and then 13, 14, I worked. But anyway —
DUBNER: What kind of work did you do those summers?
FOXWORTH: I worked at a camp for disabled, a sleep away camp for disabled children and adults called Camp Green Top, the first year, which was a hell of an eye-opening experience, where you have to feed, bathe, change diapers of adults, chase them when they run off, and whatever. So that’s a whole nother ball of wax. But then next year I worked at Dragon House Express, the Chinese food restaurant in the mall food court. And then the next year I got — started getting invited to football camps. And that’s when it started to become a business. When I showed up and I was like, “Oh, they’re evaluating me, this is how I can get a scholarship or cannot get a scholarship. This is where the dream either continues to go forward or dies.”
DUBNER: And then how did that realization affect your performance?
FOXWORTH: It worked out, so I guess it helped.
DUBNER: Were you intimidated a little bit, or were you more like, “Oh, now I get it. Now this is my business and I’m going to win.”
FOXWORTH: Yeah, I do my best to be honest and not paint this picture of — I feel it’s easy for me to say, “No, then I turned it up another level.” Which can’t actually be true for a 15-year-old kid who knows that his whole life is riding on how well he does at Duke football camp or whatever. So I’m sure I felt some anxiety and some nervousness. But I pushed it down I guess, and I did well enough to get their attention. But it also felt like the pressure that I wanted, you know? I wanted to be a professional football player — I wanted for my play to matter. And obviously it felt like it mattered in my little Pop Warner games, whatever. I’d cry when we lost. But I knew that nobody cared in the world. But then, those were real stakes. And I was like, “Yeah, this is real.”
FOXWORTH: Were there other kids from those camps that you remember who also went on to play in the N.F.L.?
FOXWORTH: Probably. The one person I remember — I went to Penn State’s football camp and I remember Adam Taliaferro, who was older than me. He was the big guy on campus at the time, and he was their big recruit. They really wanted him. And I remember befriending him. He was a few years older to me, befriending him and looking up to him and being like, “Oh, this is cool. This big time guy who was on the cover of all these newspapers, we’re friends.” And then he ended up going to Penn State and playing safety, I believe, and was paralyzed. And yeah, that’s a whole nother avenue to go down.
DUBNER: Yeah. Well, let’s go down that avenue for a minute. You were relatively injury-free during high school and college. And when you would see other guys getting hurt or in an extreme case like Adam, getting paralyzed, what’s your response to that? How do you react?
FOXWORTH: It goes back to my warped ideas of masculinity, as much as I’ve gotten older and try to suppress them. At that point, it was still there. And probably — not probably, it still is in me at some point. Hopefully I’ve stifled some of it now. But it was like, “Yeah, I play this game, and yeah, people get paralyzed —” I’ve been on the field a couple of times when people have been paralyzed. I played in a preseason game in the N.F.L. where a guy died in a locker room afterwards. I was on the field when Kevin Everett was paralyzed. We had practice at Maryland where a helicopter came to take one player off the field and the coach said, move it down, and we kept doing the drills as a helicopter was taking one of our teammates who couldn’t move to the hospital. He ended up being okay. But these are all things that happened.
And I do remember — I think I was 11 years old. Pop Warner, we were playing against this other team that had a really good running back. We were tackling the running back. I hit him in his leg and it was so many people on him. He hit the ground and it popped, and he screamed, and we all got up and the bone was sticking through his skin, and it was broken, obviously. And we all went to the sideline and we’re broken up and we’re crying and stuff. And it took awhile to get him off the field and the coach was like, “We got to finish the game.” And that always stands out in my mind as a turning point, where I was like, “This is what you’re into, and this is what you’re going to be confronted with. And from that point forward, I don’t think I was aware of those things, but it never really bothered me — if anything it was a badge of honor. Yeah, I know this crazy stuff happens, and I go out there and do it anyway because I’m a man, or something like that.
DUBNER: You go out there and do it and you don’t get hurt doing it. But then you did start to get injured as a pro. Can you talk about your first significant injury there?
FOXWORTH: Yeah, it was tough. From a professional standpoint more than anything. I was fortunate that it didn’t happen a year sooner, or or two years sooner.
DUBNER: Well, this is tied to the money, right?
FOXWORTH: Yeah.
DUBNER: So let’s walk people through this, because a lot of people don’t understand how money works in the N.F.L. You were drafted I believe 2005, third round. Right? So what I’m looking at here, you were paid for that year, including a signing bonus, which was a lot of it, about $660,000 — that sound about right for year one?
FOXWORTH: Sure.
DUBNER: Okay. And then I guess back then, it was a three-year rookie contract. Is that right?
FOXWORTH: Yeah, it was a three-year rookie contract, with the fourth year option, I believe.
DUBNER: Gotcha. Okay, so looks like your first three years paid you a total of about $1.5 million. Most places in the world, that’s amazing. And those first few years were in Denver.
FOXWORTH: Yeah. So I went through the first three years, and then I was coming up on a contract year and I played pretty well in Denver, and I knew that I needed to play well in this year because if you don’t, then the salary minimum goes up for guys after that point. So then they just go get a younger one, and you — and you go on with the rest of your life. So during week one, we’re getting ready for the first week of a season in Denver. They traded me to Atlanta. Atlanta was a terrible football team at that point. It was a year after Vick was gone and they just drafted a rookie quarterback who no one thought was going to be very good. That was the first time when I considered going to business school. My girlfriend at the time, who is my wife now, I remember talking to her then like, “Yeah, this don’t look like it’s going to work out,” and I’m having to think about business school because I got traded on week one. You normally earned your position during training camp. I skipped training camp. This team is going to be terrible. I’m not going to play. And then I’ll be out of the league. But —
DUBNER: That year you got paid a little over $900,000, but you must have a pretty good year, because the next year you signed a contract with Baltimore that paid you in year one, $8 million, year two, $9.2, and year three, $4.4 — does that sound about right?
FOXWORTH: Yeah, it was a four-year, 27, I think. In Baltimore. And then the first year, I struggled at the beginning of the season but I was playing really well towards the end of the season. And Baltimore is the city I grew up in. So it was cool. And then when we have Super Bowl aspirations, and I’m playing well coming into the next season, and I tore my A.C.L. on the first day of training camp, and I was never the same. So that was — it felt like my career, with all the uncertainty and the, frankly, fear that I felt going into year four in Atlanta, I was the most confident that I’d ever been. And I was like, “Oh, this is perfect, I am a Baltimore guy. Back in Baltimore. Playing well. Super Bowl contender. We’re going to win the Super Bowl. I’m going to have a great season. I’m going to go to the Pro Bowl, this is — I’m playing as well as I ever have.” People are starting to recognize that I’m good and everything is starting to fall into place — and then the A.C.L. pops.
Frankly, that’s what led me to take on more leadership in the players association and led me to be involved in the negotiations, which then is what I used, frankly, it was the big piece that got me into business school, because I didn’t have the grades or the background to get into business school. But no one has experience like that, who’s going to business school. So that’s what, frankly, got me into Harvard Business School. So it still turned out to be a good story. But at the time it was — I don’t know. Obviously I would not say that it was a depression by any stretch, but I do remember my wife — and I think she was still my girlfriend then — telling me like, “Go get a haircut,” because I was just sitting around the house, going to rehab twice a day, and coming home and sitting in front of the T.V., just no shave, and no nothing.
DUBNER: What got you out of that?
FOXWORTH: I think it’s the opportunity to do — to be involved in the C.B.A. stuff — it gave me a purpose.
DUBNER: Right. It’s lucky you were near D.C. — did that matter?
FOXWORTH: Oh yeah. That absolutely helped and lucky that I already had relationships there and I was involved, and I was already in a leadership role. But I was given so much more time because of it.
DUBNER: So that four year contract you signed with Baltimore in 2009, it was a four-year, $27.2 million contract. How much of that did you actually collect?
FOXWORTH: All of it.
DUBNER: You did. Did you have it guaranteed even though you didn’t end up playing out the whole contract?
FOXWORTH: So I was on the team for three years, so I got those three years, and then the fourth year I got — I had taken out an insurance policy. So I got the rest of it there. That’s why I said earlier, I was fortunate that the knee injury happened after I signed that deal, because if it would have happened when I was in college, or happened a year earlier, I would have been on an entirely different path, which may have turned out to be great, but I really like where I’m at now.
DUBNER: Let me ask you this: generally, how did the reality as an N.F.L. player match your expectations? You’re a kid who, as you told us, from the age of eight or earlier, was seeing yourself playing in the N.F.L. And then you get there. Now it really, really, really is business. So I’m curious to know about that.
FOXWORTH: My freshman year in college, I started towards the end of the season, we played well, we won the A.C.C. championship. We went to the Orange Bowl and lost, and then immediately after, my head coach got a $10 million extension, and that was when I was like, “Oh, we aren’t a team, we’re a business.” And that was when the light went on for me. I don’t know that I would wish it any different. But that’s the thing that sucks the most, is that when you feel like you’re a part of a team and you still have that camaraderie and love for your teammates, but you also in the back of your mind, you are also thinking like, “Hey, I’m out for myself.”
I remember when — Denver, I had a really good rookie season and then my second year was okay, then I was scheduled to be the starter opposite Champ Bailey, the other corner, the next season. And they went and traded for Dre Bly, and I love Dre. He and I became good friends. But it was not lost on me that Dre was messing with my money, and my opportunity, and that sucks. It’s not fun to be in that situation. It’s not fun to feel that. I didn’t consider that, because I used to watch every Saturday and Sunday morning, they would do these N.F.L. yearbooks on E.S.P.N. and they would run them back to back to back, and I would get up and watch them all the time. And those do such a great job of telling the story of football. And I believed it, which is not to say that it’s not true, but it is incomplete.
DUBNER: Is part of that story when the new kid comes to camp or somebody is traded, that everybody tries to help them fit in, even though there is competition for the job, is that part of the story you’re saying?
FOXWORTH: That’s definitely part of the story, and it’s not untrue, because we do help each other, we do care about each other and we are a fraternity, look out for each other. But we’re also aware that it’s a business. There’s only a certain amount of money on the salary cap — and you recognize as you get — you recognize, “All right, if this doesn’t work out, what am I going to do?” If it didn’t work out in Atlanta, and I was out of the league after a year, I’d have been a 26-year-old with no real experience.
Being a football player does not qualify you to do anything, short of being a bouncer, I guess. And — no real experience, and I’m so far removed from college that it’s like, “What am I going to do?” And I have a bank account that is much larger than most of the other 26-year-olds, but still got a whole lot of life left to live, and it’s not a great situation to be in. It’s not awful, obviously, but you do feel that pressure. You’re thinking about that and you’re thinking about if you have kids at the time, or if you have family members that are depending on you, you’re like, “Oh, well as much as I love this guy, as much as I want him to do well. I need this.”
DUBNER: And what was Ashley — your then-girlfriend, now wife, what was she — what was her position now? Because I know Ashley a little bit, and I know that she’s not one to let things happen as as they’re going to, right? She’s like, “Have a plan. Make it work.” What was her advice to you?
FOXWORTH: I don’t think she gave me much advice at the time. She was in law school at the time. And she’s much smarter than me. I know a lot of people say that because it seems like the nice thing to say.
DUBNER: No offense, I’ll say, it’s pretty obviously true. She’s obviously very smart.
FOXWORTH: She went to — we met at Maryland and she went to the law school at Harvard, well before I went to the business school up there. But she — I was more stressed than she was.
DUBNER: Do you think in the back of her mind, she’s thinking, “It’s okay, because I’m going to be a lawyer and I can carry him if I need to.” Do you think that was part of it?
FOXWORTH: I don’t think so. Honestly. I don’t — as she tells it now, is she knew that I was going to be successful, and that was one of the things that was attractive.
DUBNER: You mean beyond football, or in football?
FOXWORTH: No, just in general. I don’t think she knew that I was going to be successful at football. I don’t think she knew what I would do professionally. But the way that she tells it is, she knew that I would be successful. So that was why she was not concerned. But I didn’t know that.
DUBNER: Does that say more about her or about you? In other words, does it say more about her like, “The kind of man I’m going to pick, I’m not going to pick someone who’s not going to be successful.” You think it was more —
FOXWORTH: You’ve been hanging out with her, because that’s the story that she tells. I think that she — those are things that I think she found most attractive about me, I was mature and focused and the idea that — the example of it is, I was already looking at business schools because I had already — I was obviously going to be all-in on this season. I’m going to make the season work. But I know that there’s a possibility it’s not going to work, and I’m not going to — I’m not going to wake up tomorrow and be like, “Oh, now what?”
DUBNER: Yeah, yeah. What about — did you ever think about politics?
FOXWORTH: I’ve been told that a lot. And I guess I’ve given it some thought. No more than a couple of hours. And I hate it.
DUBNER: Because why?
FOXWORTH: It seems terrible, because it seems you — well, the money in politics is one thing. You’re constantly fundraising. You’re not actually getting to affect any change — and I guess it depends on what level of politics you’re going to, or whatever, but it often feels like a trophy head, and to be a good politician, you are always looking for the next angle, the next office, or the next person who’s going to give you some money. I don’t know, that does not interest me at all.
DUBNER: So you’re a little ways into your athletic afterlife. Now, you’re about 35 years old, is that right Domonique?
FOXWORTH: Yep.
DUBNER: So you’ve been out of football for several years now, Where do you feel you are in your athletic afterlife, are you still at the beginning? And I’m curious to know what you see — how you see it playing out.
FOXWORTH: So I was president of the players association of the N.F.L. while I was playing, and after business school, I went to the N.B.A. Players Association, and I — I am in a weird state, frankly. I don’t know how to — it feels like a state of transition, which — but it feels like I shouldn’t be in a state of transition, if that makes any sense. So my whole life since I was a kid was very — I had a very clear goal and I worked towards that goal. And I made lots of decisions that would get me closer to that goal, but get me further away from other important and interesting things, including friends, including family. And then I was like, “I’m done playing.” So I will be in this state of transition, business school was like, “All right, this is my transition state, and then I’ll take this job at the N.B.A. Players Association and then I’ll be back to a steady state.” But I didn’t like it, and I left.
DUBNER: Because why? The N.B.A. position?
FOXWORTH: Yeah. I was the chief operating officer there, and there was a lot of things going on at the time, a lot of transition there. But being a chief operating officer was something that sounded good and paid well and I was very proud of. But it’s a lot of operating, frankly, which is — I remember living in New York, and my wife was pregnant with our third child, and she was not feeling good, and I was getting up at 6:30 a.m. to ride the subway to work with a bunch of other people who weren’t happy about where they were going to work. And I’d be there until 7:00 p.m. at night working, working, working, working. And I remember being on the subway thinking, “Am I happy? I have enough money that I don’t have to be unhappy. All these people who are on here with me, they have to go to work. And I don’t have to go to work.” So then I quit.
And I started writing for fun, and that’s what landed me at E.S.P.N. But to be completely frank with you, there’s some focus and clarity that scarcity brings to your life, and I don’t say this because I want to go back to a state when I was not sure, financially. I like being in a comfortable financial state. But there’s something to be said for the focus and clarity of, “Oh no, I’ve got to do this, because I got to feed my family.” And when you don’t have that focus and clarity, there’s something a bit frightening, honestly, about always feeling like, “What should I be doing with this gift, frankly, that I have? This gift of of flexibility and independence?” And sometimes in the job that I have now, I went to business school in part because I fancy myself as a smart person who is more than an athlete. And I wanted to get away from this, so there’s parts of me that’s embarrassed that I write about sports. Talk about sports.
But then there’s parts of me that’s like, “This awesome. It’s kind of flexible. I get to do fun things. I get to be — pick up my kids from school and take them to school.” And so it just depends on the day, where sometimes I’m like, “I should be chasing some big professional glory, and I’m wasting time. Or some days I’m doing just exactly what I should be doing, or well, I should be spending more time with my kids and my wife because I have this flexibility.” So when you have that scarcity to focus your thought, it’s very clear what you should be doing. And it’s an interesting thing to happen to somebody at this age. It feels more of a midlife thing. And for athletes it’s a unique thing. Successful athletes, it’s a unique thing, that in your 20s or 30s. You’re like, “Now what?”
DUBNER: Now, everything you said just makes sense to me, but I’m also curious if there’s one more element that plays into that, which is that sports is maybe singularly thrilling to do. And I say maybe — if you play music at a high level — it’s probably silly to say that sports are the only one — but because of the nature of what it is and the competition, it’s thrilling. Look how thrilled people are to watch it. And you guys are the ones who are doing it. And I just wonder if part of what’s contributing to your sort of malaise is just the possibility that that thrill is irreplaceable.
FOXWORTH: I think that’s a reasonable thing to think. But it doesn’t feel like that to me. I don’t feel like I’m missing that thrill, it’s not something that I feel I want. The feeling of uncertainty is the feeling that I have more than anything. It’s not like, “Oh, my life is boring.” It’s like, “Am I doing the right thing? Am I doing the best thing I can with this fortune and situation that I’m in?” And where it is connected to sports in some way, what also exacerbates it, I think, is a feeling of loneliness, honestly, which — I have three kids and my wife, and I’m not alone, obviously. And I love them and have fun with them.
But throughout my life, I have been almost myopically focused on a goal, which — being focused on that goal gave me purpose and I’m sure I’m going to butcher the Nietzsche quote, but it’s something to the effect of, “When a man has a why, he can bear almost any how.” And I don’t drink now, I never drank in my life. I never smoke weed. I was singularly focused on doing everything. Every decision I made was like, “All right, I’m going to get closer to his goal.” And the people I was close with in high school, those aren’t my friends anymore. People I was close with in college, not really my friends anymore. And then at 35, I’m in D.C. where my wife has a bunch of family and friends, friends that she’s been close with since they were in the second grade, and I’m like, “I don’t really have that.” And I was making these choices, which I thought were choices to get me —
DUBNER: What you wanted.
FOXWORTH: Right. And I wasn’t — there were choices that I was making that I was unaware that I was making. I didn’t realize at the time that I was foregoing long lasting relationships. And I think lots of athletes do the opposite and bring their friends and family along with them, and then they are making a decision. And there are a whole other whole mess of problems that you get from that. So there is no right way to do it. And I am very happy with where I’m in my life. And while you’re a professional athlete, you walk around with this skepticism, frankly, of all new people in your life. So even if there was the potential for some great friendships, I wasn’t open to them.
I’d go to these places, people are like, “Oh, football player,” and I’d pretend and be nice to them because that’s what you do, and they pretend or whatever to be into me, because that’s what you do, and then you move on. And then you’re 35, and you’re like, “Hey, you haven’t talked to your best friend from high school in 10 years, or something like that.” So I certainly don’t feel sad or anything, but these are things that I am becoming more aware of now. I said to my wife a couple of days ago that I feel I’m in a perpetual state of transition, which is interesting and uncomfortable at the same time.
DUBNER: What are some of the other things you’ve tried? You mentioned the N.B.A. Players Association job. What are some other things that you tried that you thought would make you excited or happy, and didn’t?
FOXWORTH: So, it’s not that they didn’t, it’s that they — that they don’t. It’s — so I mentioned, it’s no matter — and I’m starting to understand that — and this goes back to the scarcity point, where if there is something there to make the decision for you it feels somewhat easier. But I imagine that everyone can relate to this, that when you’re at work sometimes, you’re like, “Man, I really wish I was with my kids. I really wish I was partying.” Or when you are with your family, you’re like, “Man —” Particularly if you like your job, you want to be at work, or you might want to go on a guys trip or you might want to go on a romantic vacation with your wife, there’s so many things that you want to do. But there are things for so many people that they have to do.
So when I’m in this position where it’s like, “All right, I want to do this and then I’m doing it, but I want to do some of that.” It even breaks down into professional where it’s like, “All right, I want to just chase professional glory. I want to work my way up to the top of some company.” And I’m capable of doing that, I feel like I have the intelligence or charisma and pedigree, academically, to get in those positions, but that requires you to not be home a lot. And there’s part of me that wants that, but then there’s part of me — I want my kids to look back and be like, “Hey, my dad picked me up from school a couple of days a week.” I don’t know.
DUBNER: So this ambivalence, you never had any of this, though, when you were chasing the N.F.L. dream, did you?
FOXWORTH: No, this is brand new. It was quite clear to me that there were two things: I need to get paid, and we need to win. And anything that was not in line with that was like, “All right, obviously I don’t need to do this.” And maybe I was a more extreme version of it than a lot of people, to the point that I don’t drink and stuff. I don’t have some religious thing against drinking, I just never have, and I didn’t — when I was in high school and probably a lot of people start, because I’m like “No, it’s going to make me a worse football player.” And one of my best friends in high school actually sold drugs, and got a little bit of time for it. And when he was selling and occasionally smoking, I was like “No, I’m a football player.” Even our presidents, over the years, have experimented with marijuana. It feels like for me — and some even cocaine. For me it was like, “No, there’s one thing to do”. And now I’m at this point where I don’t really know how to have fun. I don’t really have super close friends, and I don’t really know what to do with my life. But I’m pretty happy still.
DUBNER: So it sounds to me at least that you built an identity that was focused, really strongly focused on football. But there are a million parts of what identity means, it means who you know and what you do with them, and what you put in your body, and so on. And now, you still have the identity, but you don’t have the thing that you built it for. It’s got to be a little baffling in a way. You are the person you made, to succeed, and then you did succeed, and now it’s like, “What next?”
FOXWORTH: Most people’s journeys are so much longer that when they do succeed, they die a few years after or something.
DUBNER: That’s your problem. Yeah. That’s what’s always attracted me about the idea of the afterlife of an athlete, is it’s unnatural. Most people, they pursue something for their whole life, or it’s not so specific that they basically are told to stop doing it when they’re 35, because they’re too slow. And yet, you can’t ask — you got a lot of money in the bank, you can’t ask people to feel sorry for you on that front.
FOXWORTH: I’m certainly like this — to be clear, this conversation is not at all about me wanting sympathy or feeling sorry.
DUBNER: No, no, I didn’t mean to imply.
FOXWORTH: There’s nobody that I want to trade places with. But I just — that doesn’t mean that there aren’t things —
DUBNER: You have a serious case of “grass is greener”-ism, it sounds like.
FOXWORTH: It feels that way, right? To the point that you made about the — I am the person that I’ve made. One of my classes in business school, one of the — it was surprising. I went to business school before — after I finished playing, I went to business school because I was like, “All right, now I’m going to keep competing. I’ll go to the best business school and I’m going to turn this 27 into 200.” And then I got there. And surprisingly, as I’m sure Harvard has a bad stereotype or a bad reputation for creating money-hungry people with low ethics, I’m sure there are plenty of them coming out. But I was surprised with how many mushy, soft classes that we had. That were about our feelings and integrity and all that stuff.
And I do remember one professor who said that — it wasn’t to me directly, it was just to the class, but it felt like he was talking to me directly. And I didn’t really like this professor necessarily, so I hate to give him credit. But he said something to the effect of, “The operating system that you used to get here may not be the operating system that you need going forward.” And that resonated with me, because I feel that’s definitely true for me. But I don’t know, they don’t just release updates for humans. So like, modifying my operating system is a slower and more challenging process.
DUBNER: Right. What was the professor’s name?
FOXWORTH: I don’t remember. I didn’t like him because on the first day he said to me — obviously, I was the football player there, and that was part of my identity. He sized me up and was like, “Aren’t you kind of small for a football player?” I was like, “I will whoop your ass in this classroom.” But he was actually a pretty good professor.
DUBNER: So let me ask you this. You are a scholar, at least an amateur scholar, of the civil-rights movement. Can you just talk for a second about the relationship between the civil rights movement per se and sports, areas where there’s overlap, maybe where one movement is way ahead or behind of the other. And I’ve certainly got in the back of my mind the anthem protests that are a big piece of this conversation right now. I’m curious to know what you have to say about that.
FOXWORTH: At least in America, there’s something black about professional athleticism. The players are largely black and — particularly in the Big Two sports, a lot of the culture that seeps out of the game into our pop culture comes from black players and there’s a lot of people who want to separate race from sports. And they say they want to go back to how it was when race and sports were separate, but it never was. It always has been intertwined — race is probably the most, particularly in America — the most defining characteristic of our country is how we have dealt with race. And it is always involved in everything.
Obviously, there were the ‘60s. Obviously, no one can say that race and sports weren’t connected. But people point to the periods after that from the ‘70s, ‘80s, to the ‘90s, and they would say that those were times when race and politics and social issues were not in sports. But I still think they were, because the players were still dealing with it. Whether the media was putting attention on it or whether people were willing to address it or talk about it, it was a thing that was always there. So that frustrates me. So I don’t necessarily feel — while I do accept that we’re in a state now as a country where it is unavoidable, the intersection, I don’t feel like it ever went away. It’s not a new intersection, it’s just I happened to be on that corner altogether, at once.
DUBNER: It’s funny you say that because the thing that struck me most about when Colin Kaepernick first decided to protest police violence by sitting and then kneeling during the anthem, the thing that struck me is it felt so mild compared to some past protest moves, like the 1968 Olympics. That was a big deal. And then it also struck me — the response also struck me as so overwrought, that again, it felt pre-’60s in a way. Haven’t we done this, and shouldn’t the conversation be way ahead of this? But maybe that’s because it is at the end of the day, all about just race, and not even race in sports, race in politics, etc. Do you think that’s what it’s really about?
FOXWORTH: Yeah. It’s not about the issues, it’s not about the posture you take when you are — when the national anthem is being played. It’s something that I — As a father, I’ve come to recognize that adults aren’t very different from children. Adults learn how to justify and how to validate their actions and decisions. Whereas if my son does something ridiculous and I ask him why he looks at me like I’m crazy like, “How you ask me why?” Or he’ll just say, “I took a cookie.” And, why? “I wanted a cookie.” Okay. Yeah, that’s fair. And I think that people to a certain degree, even if it is subconscious, they do what feels right, or what makes them happy or what makes them feel good, and then they’re like, “All right, now let me concoct this post-hoc justification whether it’s conscious or unconscious.” And I think that’s what’s happening.
And we see it with the anthem stuff. It’s like, “All right, sitting down during the anthem is a problem. And then you move from there to kneeling — so kneeling is then a problem. Raised fist is a problem and now we see that staying in the locker room is a problem.” Let’s just be honest about it. You don’t like these people making any statement and it makes you uncomfortable and you don’t like it. So you’re not going to like it no matter how they get it across. There’s no — and that’s one of the things that’s been most frustrating about this is they’re like, “No, I understand. But this is the wrong time or this is the wrong way.” No, there is no right time. There is no right way.
“You should be more like Martin Luther King.” Martin Luther King was assassinated and a large majority of white society was not happy with him advocating for advanced rights. I don’t know. It just feels like no matter what, there are people. And it’s a trap that we often get caught in, and not just in this case, but just in general, where it’s like, “All right, we’re going to try to satisfy everybody or we’re going to try to satisfy this group.” Some people don’t want to be satisfied. They want to be angry, let them be angry.
DUBNER: If you were still playing in the N.F.L. and first day of the season happens —
FOXWORTH: Yes.
DUBNER: What do you do during the anthem?
FOXWORTH: I think at this point you probably stand up because there’s not much. It’s easy to say now. I don’t know. So I’d like to say that I would be in solidarity with those guys and I would have the courage to expose myself to the hate that they’re receiving. But I don’t know. It’s easy to say now. From the sidelines.
DUBNER: I’m just going to ask one last question if I can. Two part question. No. 1, you played professional and college and high school football. So you can’t not think about long-term brain damage, since that’s a big piece of all conversations about football these days. So I’m curious to know whether you feel a little bit like you’re living with a time bomb in your head. And related to that, I’m curious to know what happens if and when your son wants to play football.
FOXWORTH: So I’ll take the second one first. Slightly easier. He’s only five now and I say no. It’s not a problem that we’re actually facing at this point, but I would say no.
DUBNER: So if he comes to you and says, “Hey Dad, I know before I was born, you were an amazing N.F.L. player, great career, etc. What do you mean, no? What are you talking about?”
FOXWORTH: I think the research wasn’t there. I suspect my parents would not have let me play when I was that age, if there was information available. And it’s not even clear information. But what is clear is that it does put you at a higher risk. Like, my son doesn’t need those things. The best case scenario is that you play professional football and you make a lot of money. I wasn’t — I was far from poor growing up, like middle class, but I went to Baltimore County public schools. That’s not my son’s experience. I didn’t have access to the things that he’ll have access to. So I frankly think that he is starting in a much better place than I am, so he should do much better than banging his head into other people’s heads for money. It seems like a step back to me, honestly.
DUBNER: On a macro scale, does that mean that as football goes forward, and I guess if football goes forward, which obviously in the short term it will, but in long term it’s a question, does that mean that the only people that play it are going to be the people who need to play it to try to make the money that they can’t make otherwise?
FOXWORTH: Feels like outside of the quarterback position, it’s already gravitated to that, both prior to now.
DUBNER: But you’ve got guys, the San Francisco 49ers for instance, they have a few guys who’ve had a lot, there have been a lot in the league, who went to Stanford. So these are football players that go to Stanford to get a Stanford degree. There’s a lot of ways they can now make a living. So there’s obviously more about the appeal of playing at that level than just making the money, yeah?
FOXWORTH: Football players, athletes are still heroes in our society. And it’s something that people, particularly young boys, will aspire to. I understand that. But I do think that the danger is something that’s going to push people away from it in a way that it drew people to it in the past, so it’s not — football is not by any stretch dead, and there is still hope that they could find ways to modify the game or improve equipment or whatever and make it safer, but until they do, I don’t see why my son needs to play. But I don’t judge anybody else. Your son can do what you want your son to do. That’s just not for my son.
DUBNER: And then what about you? Do you worry about your brain? Does your wife worry about your brain?
FOXWORTH: Absolutely. I do. It’s something that I think lots of players talk about and think about. And every time there is — It could just be general aging, you don’t know where your keys are. It’s like you’re living a horror movie honestly, where it’s this thing lurking in the background, that you hear noises but you don’t necessarily know if that’s just a regular noise or if that is a monster. And that’s what I analogize it to, where it’s like all right, I can’t find my keys. That to me feels like “Oh, is this a signal? Or is this just something, whatever?” It’s scary. And what is most frightening is, right now, I would do it all over, because of what it’s done for me and my family.
And I think most players would agree with that, except for the ones who killed themselves. I have been sad before, obviously, but I don’t know that darkness, I don’t know. I’ve never ever in my life gave any realistic consideration to ending my own life and trying to — And I invite you or anybody else to try to wrap your head around how sad, depressed, how dark you must feel to see death as relief, as a way out. And I imagine if I were ever to feel that way, or for people who do feel that way, they don’t say like, “I would go back and do it all over again.” I would imagine in that moment they would give up all the fame, all the money, all the success, all the women, or whatever else, all the trappings of this, to not be in a place where you feel like the only exit is to end your life. So that’s very dark and very difficult to deal with, but I’ve never been there. I hope never to get there. But until then, I feel like I’m happy with the decisions that I’ve made and I will continue to live as happy and productive a life as I can.
DUBNER: Well on that note, let me just thank you for a really great conversation and wish you and your family all the best, and I hope you find the greenest pasture possible.
FOXWORTH: And then find a greener one.
That was Domonique Foxworth; on Twitter, he’s @Foxworth24. Hope you enjoyed this full conversation; he appears throughout our “Hidden Side of Sports” series, including episode numbers 349, 351, and 365. Thanks again to him, and thanks to you for listening.
Freakonomics Radio is produced by Stitcher and Dubner Productions. Our “Hidden Side of Sports” series was produced by Anders Kelto and Derek John, with lots of help from Harry Huggins, Alison Craiglow, and Alvin Melathe; we also had help from Rebecca Douglas and Nellie Osborne, and our staff includes also Greg Rippin, and Zack Lapinski. The music you hear throughout our episodes was composed by Luis Guerra. Our show can also be heard on NPR stations across the country — check your local station for the schedule — as well as on SiriusXM, Spotify, and even your better airlines!
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