#and no offence to critics but getting too deep and comfortable in that sort of attitude make you a Really unpleasant person to be around

[prompt-master]

Bear Trap (Part 2/3)

Art done by @doodles-by-noodles

Kyoko was hunched over Makoto, her eyes were darting from place to place over his body. Taking in every gash and tear before acting. Time was critical. She needed to know exactly how to treat him, or Makoto could die right there in front of her. Judging by the sound of his breathing, stressed and heavy, she could tell he’d already lost a lot of blood. Well, not that you needed her expertise to determine that. You could just look at the splattered pink around them. 

“It doesn’t look good,” She had said to Byakuya. It doesn’t look good. Seriously?

“No shit it doesn’t look good,” he spat out, sounding as intolerable as he did the first day they’d met in the killing game “I do have eyes, you know.“ 

Her right eye twitched. The logical side of her said this was just how Byakuya handled stress, by disconnecting himself and becoming irritable instead. The emotional side of her wanted him to shut the hell up. She opted to spare him little more than a glare before placing a hand on Makoto’s neck to check his pulse. It was beating rather hard and fast. It was strange really. She felt as though he was already dead. But that didn’t make any sort of logical sense. He was warm, he was still bleeding, he was shaking, and panting. All of this was right in her hands to be directly experienced. But he still felt like he was dead, putting her fingers to his limp neck. 

She had a morbid thought just then. About how her talents were used to help after a death, never really before one.

"You need bandages,” Byakuya said, ever so helpfully, “how else will you stop the bleeding? Or did the panic render you useless?" 

Kyoko took a deep breath. 

Makoto wouldn’t fight right now, not during an emergency, and neither would she. It’s just how he copes. It’s just how he copes…

"Tear up your jacket then.” She stated, “I’m not certain mine will be enough." 

She had to spark herself into action. She couldn’t let herself fall to something as simple as shock. She had been given mortician training as a part of the Kirigiri Family teachings so that she would have complete expertise on how different injuries came to be. She could glance at the wound on his back and see that it was given to him by the claws of a Mono Unit at a rather awkward angle. As she tied torn pieces of her blazer around his wounds so that they’d hold pressure - she only had two hands after all - she was able to get the entire story of all the brutal suffering Makoto just went through. 

She had seen bodies fresh from the morgue slapped down onto a table in front of her. She had witnessed the aftermath of horrors such as slit throats and dismemberment. She had once solved a case in which she found the victim’s severed head hidden underneath the floorboards in a safe. But Makoto’s disfigured leg, mangled to the point where she wondered how it was hanging on, bone sticking out after tearing through the skin, sharp from where metal teeth caused a clean break: THIS out of everything that she had witnessed in her life was what made her want to throw up. 

His arm was also rather damaged. It was hard to make out under torn fabric and blood, but it seemed more salvageable than his leg…she just needed…

"Togami. Your jacket.” Her tone was unforgiving. 

“I’m working on it.” Byakuya retorted back, a hint of offence in his voice.

It’s just how he copes. She felt like her patience for Byakuya was a rubber band in her hands, slowly getting pulled in either direction.

“Work harder." 

"You should be concerned with yourself.”

Deep breaths. The band was taut, shaking from force.

“Is this the best of your abilities?" 

The band snapped. 

"At least I’m actually doing something to help him!" 

Byakuya paused midway through tearing his blazer. Byakuya thought of himself as a capable man, but all his capable talents extended only towards self preservation. The one time he wished he had the skills to help someone else he could only stand and watch. There was nothing that Byakuya hated more  than being helpless. Kyoko’s words reminded him of the time Aoi slapped him back in the killing game. One of the many wake up calls Byakuya had received over the past few years. 

He could remember as clear as day, the wake up call that Kyoko herself had given him back when they hated each other. His fury at being incorrect over Sakura’s death, at not understanding the case, had all been snuffed out when Kyoko told him he simply lacked any emotional capacity to understand. Kirigiri Kyoko of all people. 

Hearing her remind him of his uselessness now with such a harsh tone. Well, it felt like she hated him all over again. 

He was still angry. Angry that he cared, angry that he wasn’t prepared, angry that he was faltering.

"What do you expect me to do?” He demanded. He spat out the words, but his heart was desperate to be given a task. 

“Make sure our emergency call earlier went through. Update the Foundation on the situation.” Right, that all made sense. How had he not seen that before? It almost made the emergency feel like a quick business move. He could handle that. Kyoko looked up from tending a wound on Makoto’s stomach, the worry in her eyes made him feel sick. “…and when you’re done, try to keep him awake." 

"Keep him-? He’s awake?” The boy had been so still and silent since they’d discovered his mangled body Byakuya hadn’t even considered that possibility. Upon further inspection Byakuya realized Makoto was never still or quiet. The distance he’d kept away from the scene prevented him from hearing the panting or noticing the trembling racking his body. 

A simple “yes” was all he’d gotten in response. He didn’t push or question any further though, it was clear Kyoko had a lot to focus on right now. Makoto’s life was in her hands, and neither wanted him to die like this. Kyoko could only estimate the ETA on help arriving, and she was fearing they would be too late. Memories flashed through her mind of running stitches through the skin of a banana peel during training. But she had nothing to work with, and certainly nothing sterile. Kyoko didn’t believe in God, but she prayed that an infection wouldn’t strike later. 

It was looking hopeless. 

“They said they’ll be here with a helicopter in half an hour." 

Right. She forgot Byakuya was even there. She tied another knot over a wound. Despite her heartbeat moving her entire body with its pounding, her hands remained steady. Just like when stitching banana skin shut. Another deep breath, her hands will stay steady. Any mistake could cause an issue. Mistakes could cause browning fruit to gush between the stitches. Nothing more than an insignificant rotting pile of ruined fruit splattered and smothered against the street like-

"Don’t just stand there, ” she took another deep breath, her hands will stay steady, “keep him awake." 

When Byakuya came over to take place near Makoto’s head she waited for him to pass her the tattered cloths she’d been waiting for. She ended up discovering he’d already thrown them to her side. She needed to focus more. She was by Makoto’s lower body, only half a mind paying attention to what Byakuya was doing. 

Makoto had never looked so disgustingly pale before, and he was the kind of person to lose all color when frightened. His mouth was slightly parted as his breathing continued to take a toll on him. A cold sweat had begun to break out on his clammy face, with a fever glowing across his skin from the blood loss and pain. What made Byakuya the most concerned though were his eyes, half lidded and staring at nothing in particular. His eyes fluttered, but his pupils were lazily taking in the world around him as if he was trying to understand what was going on but couldn’t take hold of anything tangible.

Byakuya held a hand up and froze. He was unsure what to do, all of this was out of his element. He wanted to push it all an arm’s length away. It was a simple task. Just keep him awake. But did he know what to do? In movies he’d seen people slap others awake. But Makoto was hurt, so shouldn’t he be gentle? Why was he even fussing over the method? There was no need to hesitate. He’d touched a corpse before, he could push through any nerves to handle this.

Byakuya put a hand to his face. After an unsure pause his thumb slowly caressed the skin of his cheek in an act of comfort that Makoto probably didn’t even register.

"Naegi, can you hear me?" 

There was a delay in his response, eyes heavily rolling side to side before settling on Byakuya. After the first small victory he prepared to speak, licking his lips and swallowing thickly. The delay felt like hours.

"T'gami…..kun?” Makoto’s lips felt heavy as he spoke.

There was an ache in Byakuya’s chest that he wasn’t used to, “The one and only." 

Makoto let out a breathy laugh. His face turned into this familiar dopey, trusting smile that he hated and loved all at the same time. His eyes seemed to lose track of Byakuya for a moment, he tried to match where they went. 

"Hey, eyes on me.” Makoto’s expression seemed to sink a little.

“W-….where's….” He sounded completely breathless and confused, “where’s Kiri…?”

“She’s right here.”

His head barely moved as he tried to see past Byakuya. Through his blurred vision he could make out that familiar lavender hue. Even with the trembling caused from blood loss he relaxed at the sight, letting out a breath when he processed. He closed his eyes, he didn’t see any reason to be scared anymore. 

“Hey, don’t you dare. Open your damn eyes.” Byakuya sounded angry with him, but he was too busy basking in relief.  

“You're….both ok?” His voice was barely above a whisper, if it wasn’t so quiet around them Byakuya would have to strain to hear it. 

“Of course we are.” It was that rare reassuring tone from Byakuya. Short lived before the anger came back, “I believe I gave you an order did I not? Open your eyes." 

To stress his point, Byakuya patted the side of Makoto’s face repeatedly and rather annoyingly. Both of them felt like they should be worried at how hard it was for him to simply open his eyes. It was like prying something off of hardened glue. Byakuya grit his teeth, he had a dreadful feeling that if Makoto closed his eyes again they wouldn’t be opening any time soon. 

"ETA?” Kyoko asked bluntly.

Byakuya didn’t take his eyes off of Makoto, “five minutes haven’t even passed yet.” So, they’re both impatient then. Makoto seemed to grin a small bit hearing Kyoko’s voice. 

He’s conscious, Byakuya reminded himself, which means that he can keep him awake by talking. But what the hell could he say? His mind felt blank, desperately pulling at drawers to find a single conversation topic locked away in his mind. But Makoto’s eyes were still on him. Perhaps the contact was grounding enough? But for how long? Makoto’s breathing felt heavier than before. 

“Why is he breathing so hard?” He opted to talk to Kyoko instead. 

“He’s lost a lot of blood." 

"He’s warm.”

“He’s lost a lot of blood." 

"Shouldn’t that make him cold?" 

"I’d rather it not get that bad. I’m sure his hands are cold if you check.”

She was right, his hands were icy cold. Makoto’s hands always felt a little chilly compared to his. Byakuya always ran hot like a furnace while Makoto was always chilly enough to wear multiple layers (I mean, a hoodie under a blazer? Really Makoto?). But this sensation felt like there was no blood in his hands. Wasn’t that a symptom of shock? His body was prioritizing vital functions just to keep him alive. Byakuya wished he could roll Makoto onto his back and elevate his legs like he’d been taught. But he’d seen the gashes on his back. It was the only injury he really took in. 

“You idiot” the words came through grit teeth, “getting yourself into a mess like this for us to clean up. Typical." 

Guilt could be read on Makoto’s face for a moment. “…yeah.” Byakuya once again felt a pang in his chest. Was that really all Makoto had to say? 

Kyoko managed to do something while working that made Makoto wince. Byakuya didn’t think for once, he just continued to rub slow circles across Makoto’s face.

"Hang in there.” Makoto’s face hadn’t relaxed much, still strained with all the pain he was feeling, “I do not permit you to die like this. Understood?" 

Makoto groaned in response, leaning into the hand that was cupping his face. Once again his eyes lost track, doing a big loop around before snagging back onto Byakuya. 

"Hurts…” he said, breath hitching as more pain shot through his body. 

“You can handle this much. You’ll be fine.”

Earlier Makoto felt relaxed when Kyoko and Byakuya had arrived. Their very presence gave Makoto a hope that he’d survive this. But Byakuya’s expression had gone from angry to worried. His eyebrows were furrowed, creasing lines across his forehead. If even Byakuya was openly worried…how bad was it? 

Makoto felt another harsh shiver run through his body. His face felt hot but everything else was like sharp winter air kept blowing over his skin. As the shiver travelled up his spine it caused pain to flare again. He was met with a harsh reminder to open his eyes from Byakuya. His breathing felt even heavier than before, each breath taking more effort than the last. Byakuya’s face was shifting again, but Makoto could hardly make it out through the greying swirls of dots across his vision. Ah, Byakuya looked scared. So Makoto was going to die then? The only sound he could hear was his own rabbit quick heartbeat threatening to break free from his tattered ribcage. Byakuya’s mouth was moving, but none of it made sense to Makoto. He couldn’t even read his lips. One second it was quick, then slow, like time itself was blending together into something incomprehensible. 

Makoto blinked slowly. 

“Naegi?” Byakuya had gone from tapping his face to shaking his shoulder.  He didn’t get much else besides a distracted groan from Makoto. “Naegi, can you hear me?”

“Don’t shake him like that!” Kirigiri scolded, frustrated as she tried her best not to let the movement interfere with her work. 

Byakuya felt like a life was slipping through his finger tips. His own breathing felt tight in his chest from the pure anxiety that Makoto’s unresponsiveness gave him. 

“Naegi if you don’t answer me right now…” his nails dug into the boy’s shoulders.

Makoto’s eyes rolled up, dropped down, fell to the left, all as if there was a weight to it. Another slow blink. More odd drifting. Not a single response from him. 

“Makoto, say something…” Byakuya ordered, pausing to watch the boy’s face; his voice was quieter than he wanted to admit. “Makoto!" 

Makoto sharply inhaled at the sound. Byakuya sounded scared. Byakuya was never scared. "Nn….” Makoto frowned a little bit in worry. He felt like he was drowning, being pushed beneath thick murky water and whenever he got close enough to the surface to even understand a little bit of what was going on he was shoved back down again. He could see Byakuya look towards Kyoko for a moment and watched his expression fall. 

Focus…focus. If he could just make out the words they were saying. His vision left him for a moment, greying out as his body felt weirdly numb and tingly. It wasn’t a bad feeling. If Makoto were to die here and now…he’d be happy to die next to the people he loved with this strange not-bad feeling. It was much better than bleeding out alone and in pain surrounded by the mascot that caused all this suffering in the first place. He could just drift away, and be able to die peacefully, a luxury most people didn’t get any more. If he could see his own face he was sure a weak smile played on it. 

“What do you mean?!” Byakuya snapped, he glared at her out of habit.

“I mean… just look…” Kyoko’s busy hands paused momentarily to grab more fabric from the dwindling pile. Byakuya looked away from Makoto’s face and his breath caught in his throat. The limb Kyoko was working on barely resembled a leg anymore. She had done a decent job at cleaning up the wounds but it only made it more apparent how… disfigured it was. Nothing about it seemed right.

“He can’t-” the words welled up in Byakuya’s throat. He couldn’t speak the words into existence. If he did, then it would become an undeniable reality. 

But Kyoko didn’t have that same hesitation, “There’s no way his leg can recover from this, and that’s without factoring in the high risk of infection.”

Byakuya’s eyes were glued to the horrific sight. Despite the sight of death becoming background noise to them all, it put a pit in his stomach. He felt disgusting. Like any second now his lunch would come back up. Look closer…it was a miracle the leg was even hanging on at all. Kyoko was right. He would lose his leg. 

Makoto, just barely through the swirls of gray blurs and black spots, could see the desperation and worry on Byakuya and Kyoko’s faces. It was only a small thought  in the back of his mind at first. Just a little whisper. But eventually it became bright and loud. A scream next to his ears. A new hope. 

He didn’t want to die. Not like this. 

He couldn’t leave Byakuya and Kyoko heartbroken. They’d drown in the despair.  Letting their trusted friend, their partner in survival, die after doing everything they could to try and save him? It would be heartbreaking. But Makoto couldn’t even make out the color of sky anymore. He couldn’t move his fingers. He didn’t know if it was possible for him to get out of this one alive, but he wouldn’t spend his last moments watching people he loves suffer. 

“ ‘s… ok…y …gami” Makoto’s tongue felt like lead and moved sluggishly in his mouth. Byakuya wished he could take any form of comfort from the broken sentence. 

The fever from Makoto’s face had gone cold, leaving him with all his blood washed pale skin on full display. Byakuya had to pause to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“Don’t talk like that, you moron. I know what you’re trying to do.” and he did. Byakuya knew that Makoto was trying to make himself and Kyoko more at ease. Even while walking on a tightrope between life and death the bot still wanted to make sure his friends were okay. Byakuya felt rigid in a mixture of irritation and worry.

“It… d’sn’t hur.. nymore…’s okay." 

The words made cold fear run down Byakuya’s spine. He clenched his fists, glaring down at Makoto like he’d insulted him. But his voice was weak, "I told you to stop…" 

"Really…I pr…mise…’s not going to be bad…" 

Byakuya grinded down on his teeth with enough force to hurt his jaw. He exhaled harshly, ignoring Makoto’s words and turning to Kyoko, "Will you hurry up and save him already?!" 

"I’m doing my best! There’s not much I can do!" 

”’re both… really strong… you c’n overcome …‘nything…” Makoto felt a lump in his throat, he wanted to make it seem like everything was gonna be fine, but he knew that no matter what he said… Byakuya and Kyoko were smart. They were smart enough to know he was lying through his teeth. Maybe it was more for him than for them at this point.

“Dammit Makoto if you don’t stop fucking talking that-!“ 

"Tha…’s why I know….you’ll be okay…” He struggled to speak, tongue heavy as lead, and still he tried to make the words clear as possible. He was afraid, he didn’t want to go, not now. There were so many things left that he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do. He wanted to tell the two people in front of him how much he cared about them but all he could do was watch as their distress increased. His vision started to fade and he wanted to scream for it to come back. He struggled to breath.

“Makoto!" 

Byakuya took Makoto’s face in his hands again. The light in Makoto’s eyes were completely gone, unable to properly process the world around him. Despite Byakuya’s pleas steadily becoming more and more desperate for Makoto to stay awake, he slipped through his fingers like sand. With his eyes drifting to the right, Makoto fell away from the world. 

And both of them felt it with their own hands. They felt the exact moment Makoto lost consciousness for what could very well be the last time. They both stood there frozen in shock. Byakuya still had his hands on Makoto’s face, just watching as if any second he’d open up his eyes again and apologize for scaring them. Kyoko had her hands up, mid-wrapping wounds. She just stared blankly, unable to grapple with the idea that all her work may have been for nothing. 

They sat in silence. No one moved.

It felt like gravity had increased, time had slowed down to a crawl and even the gentle whistling of the wind felt subdued and gentle, as if even it didn’t want to disturb them. Neither wanted to be the first to move. If they were to move, what were they even supposed to do? Both of their minds seemed to cloud. Was it even worth it to move? Was there even a point? There was too much to process, too many unanswered questions. Too many calls to feelings that would be left unanswered. And yet the world kept spinning sluggishly as if nothing had happened at all. 

"Check…” Kyoko felt some clarity dig into her skull, sharp like a breath of cold air, “check his pulse." 

"Huh?" 

"Check his pulse…! Now!" 

They both jumped into action. Kyoko grabbed Makoto’s wrist, pressing two fingers into the pulseline with enough force to bruise. It was manic and ineffective. She didn’t even think about how she had her gloves on, she just needed to know now. Byakuya was pressing his fingers into Makoto’s cold neck again and again. He kept missing the pulse point and getting impatient when he felt nothing.

When they found it, they both sunk back with relief. They could have passed out from the rush of realization. It was weak, and way way too fast, but it was something dammit. He wasn’t gone yet. With a shaky yet confident breath, Kyoko got back to work, hands trembling ever so slightly. Enough for Byakuya to notice, but not enough to comment on. 

Byakuya slowly let go of Makoto’s neck. He dragged himself back to give Kyoko space. The pick up would be here soon. In an effort to keep contact with Makoto and stay out of Kyoko’s way, Byakuya positioned himself so that he could rest the boy’s head in his lap. He wouldn’t be caught dead in this position on any other day but in the moment that didn’t matter. He occasionally glanced up at Kyoko to watch her work, but stayed focused on Makoto. If Makoto woke up he was going to be right there and this time he wouldn’t let him slip away again. 

The pick up was almost there.

[theowlhouseheadcanons]

So what are the Beta's personalities? I don't think there is a guide. All I know is Luz is a Bustard, Amity is pure bred bitch and Willow is S M U G.

Okay, I have two options: do you want the detailed, serious answer or the over-simplified, stupidish answer? Choose wisely.

Painfully detailed:

All we “canonically” know about them, apart from the designs, is their heavier approach to darker, maybe punk/goth vibes - a lead to all the content the fandom produced so far, creating all kinds of creative views about their characters.

If we take a look to Dana´s unrelated artworks, it's a mix of grim bizarrice with mundane and/or wholesome character remarks that makes the odd creations seem… relatable and emphatic, or at least curious enough to make you crook your neck in contemplation. There is also this faint feeling of madness and gloom (with different variations depending on the piece), but they all seem consistent within the big picture.

Overall, they appeal for complexity, and this is where I think the Betas stand - with deep roots on dark humor too. So, after making this boastful analysis of Dana´s art that nobody asked for, let's get to them.

Amity:

As her canon version, she's a character with layers (and masks, depending on the company she might be bearing at the time).

At first impression, she might seems cold and uninterested, with sarcasm being her favorite tool in conversation; Amity makes the effort to keep most people around her at distance to avoid creating unnecessary attachments, so she´ll come off as rude and selfish - but if you hang around enough or prove you have some guts and values, she might take a liking; And once you become friends, you´ll never meet someone more loyal;

She doesn't mind breaking rules – especially her mother's rules – for the sake of entertainment and for helping her friends. She's a fan of pranks and deception, but do not mistake her impetus for recklessness: Amity plays clever to guarantee he reputation remains intact for the right people (leaving the ones who knows her true ways crawling under their skin (enemies) or smirking at her (friends));

She's not one who easily share personal information, reserving her deeper feelings and worries to a scarce number of people;

She won't back down from discussions, and if she feels like something or someone is crossing any lines of her (surprisingly existing) "moral code" she won't leave it alone until she gives a final word on it (besides, she loves the taste of victory, and hate when the ones she cares get hurt in any sense); She fights with words that hit exactly on people's weak spots, but if she's irritated enough she might put her destructive magic to some use (as a threat);

In school, her notes are good (although she can easily make them better if she just puts in the effort) and if the teachers don't insist on pushing some expected behavior towards her, and instead work with her “flexible learning process”, she won't bother. Actually, if she takes interest in the class, she´ll deepen discussions with interesting topics and good criticism, making teachers raise their eyebrows on her competence. But, if for some reason the schoolmaster gets on a tight spot with Amity, she´ll make sure every minute of their class feels a bit closer to hell :)

(One might imagine how polemic Beta Amity must be among the faculty)

When she's not idly hanging with Boscha and the girls, she can be spotted sauntering alone in the corridors, wearing the portrait of Boredom on her face that keeps most people at distance. The only individual that doesn´t appear to be affected by her subtle threatening aurea is Willow: as anything odd and potentially entertaining, Willow conquered Amity´s attention enough to mold a friendship with her. They work pretty well together, with Willow´s centred personality balancing off Amity's fiery behavior. Hanging out with Willow feels both relaxing and exciting, as she never knows what new “job” her friend might be up to - and she's always down to tag along on her quests;

Willow:

Willow is an intriguing kid – and I'm not talking about her dubious choice of fashion or her ability to keep a poker face to everything and everyone while absorbing more details and information than anyone in the room – everyone that knows her agrees with that definition. And everyone knows her; Why? Well...

Her irreducible dedication and unbiased expertise in the bizarre and all sorts of knowledge makes her a handy option for those who need to get some job done and they don't know who else to call. Her almost obsessive curiosity for everything keeps her constantly busy with some experiment, project or investigation;

She displays the minimum respect to people around her and seems genuinely unbothered by social dramas and average teen stuff; Interacting with Willow might feel awkward or incredibly interesting as she has the habit of infodumping and calling attention to random details in the environment (and you'll never know what's going on her mind); ~Her humor is a little morbid too~

She's the kind of person you can hang out alot but if you put some thought on it you'll get shocked how little you know about them – Willow doesn't have a problem with sharing, but she'll only do when requested;

And besides, she rather have the company of plants and herself (a fact she more show than tell), because neither of them will delay her plans or interrupt them with spontaneous cases of *looks down on notes* needing help; (but don't worry, if she's your friend, she will help)

Willow will defy rules only if she knows there won't be bad consequences for her and her "partners in crime" – and she might not share that part with them sometimes so they won't get comfortable enough to mess up;

Luz:

The main common thing between Beta and Canon Luz is their contagious energy and righteous mind: they're always ready to have a good time while being able to help someone; The main difference, I guess, is that Beta Luz has a more flexible moral on methods she might use to do "good";

She never skips the calls for adventure, even the ones that presents potential dangers (which she generally doesn't take note until it's too late) making her a magnet for trouble;

Her friends are so used to her shenanigans that Luz doesn't need more than a look to have them sighing "what have you done this time?"

She's a sporty girl, but also a lover of video games and anime and trying new stuff – which once again, might be a call for danger;

She's friendly but can't help her passive aggressive humor, which can gets sharp depending on her mood; Aggression and offences are a last case resource, unless we're talking about bad guys; She might be down to break rules if it is necessary for doing good, but overall she rather leave law undisturbed; She doesn't mind taking "alternative" ways to achieve her goals, but she draws a line on cheating – and that buys her some heated discussions with Amity;

Luz swears she tries to not get involved in people's business but she never thinks twice before calling people out when they're being unnecessarily bad or rude. Actually, she has the habit of acting before thinking – the main pillar of her troublemaker reputation;

With all that, one might think she's reckless and slow in catching things up – which is not a lie, but that doesn't mean she can't be responsible: she always keep her promises and is committed to following deadlines and conditions – and I'm not sure if this is the place to add, but she's pretty good with children! For Amity's amusement

In sum (simple version):

[dawnwave16]

Not what I expected

5; 6(here); 7

Chapter 6:

It was about 10:30 pm when there was a knock on the door, it was Marinette's turn to join in on the planning session. 

Sabine was the one to answer the door and bring her in which is why she was surprised to see so many people in the room.

“Is everything alright? Maman? Did something happen?” The questions bubbled out of Marinette before she could stop them.

“Oh honey no, nothing is like that, stop panicking. I'm sure you remember talking to Matt the other day,” Sabine waited for Marinette to nod before continuing. “He apparently recognised your eyes and made the logical choice to call in your biological dad, who then decided that since his team is like an extended family to him, that they should be included.”

Marinette, while stunned that her biological father was in the room, pushed that aside to process the rest of the statement. She was unaware that everyone was able to watch her thoughts fly across her face and that they were amused by the little display she was unwittingly giving them. They were all thankful that they were profilers at that moment as they watched as she first dealt with the relief that something was going to be done about Lila only for her eyes to widen slightly at the fact that her birth father was in the room hit her.

She took a deep breath to centre herself before saying, “Can I ask who my birth father is before we carry on? I have a feeling that if I don't deal with that first my brain might keep coming back to that rather then deal with anything else?”

The team smiled at this as it was such a Reid thing to do that they knew how to handle it. It was slightly weird that it came from someone related to Hotch but it made things more familiar none the less.

“That would be me,” Hotch said with one of his slight smiles, finding some amusement in how easy she was to read for them.

“I'm glad to meet you then, um...” Marinette stumbled to a stop as she realised that she shouldn't know their names. Sure she had looked them up online so that she could contact them as Ladybug bug she hadn't done that as yet and she technically hadn't been introduced to anyone yet. A round of chuckles sounded around the room at this before they all introduced themselves. The men decided to just give the normal introduction of their name and which team they were with as were Mae and Clara, Prentiss was able to keep herself from being over the top as was JJ though it was a close call. Garcia, however, was a different story.

“OMG, you are just too cute. I'm Penelope Garcia but most just call me Penny or Garcia. I love your outfit, is it one you designed? Of course, it is, silly question! Why wouldn't you wear your own designs?”

Marinette blinked twice then spoke in a slightly dazed voice, “I'm glad I'm not the only one who word vomits when I'm excited.”

The comment did two things though both were unintentional if anyone asked. The first was that where there had been a slight tension in the room it was now gone, replaced by a slightly more relaxed atmosphere. The second was that it allowed Marinette to focus on what she deemed important again.

“Right, nice to meet you, what would you like me to call you though? I know it won't be papa because that will always be papa Tom but I think it would be rude to simply call you Hotch.”

Hotch was quiet for a moment then said, “Well how about just calling me dad, if you are comfortable with it that is.”

Marinette nodded then almost chirped her next words, “Now that that is out the way, I'm guessing Matt has filled everyone in on what I told him the other day? I know he said he wanted to confirm something with Agent Rossi so...” She trailed off slightly though the team was more than happy to take up the tail end of her thought.

Before anyone knew it it was midnight and Tom was yawning. Marinette would be staying in Jagged suite that night as there was an extra room and she was needed to help with the final prep work for his wedding so she simply said goodnight to her parents and watched as they left. The team was surprised when no sooner then the door was closed Marinette's personality turned a lot more serious.

“I know that you've been told about what has been happening in Paris, the Hawkmoth situation that is.” She stated as she turned to look at them, they nodded and she seemed to take a deep breath and gather herself before continuing. “Right, well what I'm about to tell you will possibly surprise you and I know it will be a huge risk of my part but I feel as profilers you would figure it out anyway. You see the thing is I'm Ladybug.” Marinette bit her lip as she waited for their reaction to that bombshell.

“You mean to tell me that you are the one running around, putting her life in danger for people that don't seem to appreciate it. No offence to you, kid, but I don't buy it.” Morgans voice was firm as he spoke. Hotch's temper, which had been close to the surface due to the previous topic of conversation was now at a critical point.

“I can prove it if you want?” Marinette was calm, though that changed when she saw the dark purple butterfly approaching Hotch. It was due to this that she didn't wait for a reply before calling for Tikki to transform her and no sooner then the transformation had washed over her, her yo-yo was flying towards the butterfly capturing it. The team blinked at the speed she had moved at in awe.

“Okay, now I've seen everything.” Morgan was stunned.

“What was that? One minute you were calm then you just moved.” Hotch was the one to speak this time, his anger replaced by shock. “How and why did you do that?”

Marinette release the purified butterfly from the yoyo then dropped her transformation again with a small smile.

“Sorry, I saw the Akuma heading for you and couldn't let that happen. Not only do you know my identity but I don't think you would have liked the knowledge that you were controlled.” As she spoke Tikki had floated to the table and helped herself to a couple of macaroons that had been left on the plate. Reid was watching Tikki in fascination, the rest of the team just looked like they didn't know what to think of her.

“What are you?” Reid eventually asked.

“I'm Tikki, I'm what gives Ladybug her powers when combined with her miraculous. I'm known as a Kwami and as I'm Ladybug's kwami I am the Kwami of creation.” Tikki chirped out in between her dainty bites of macaroon. Marinette just smiled at her.

“Don't forget you are part of the reason I'm still sane despite all the madness in my life.” Tikki shot Marinette a look at that which made her laugh. “Yes Tikki, I know I need to head to bed soon as I have a big day today.”

“What do you mean you have a big day today?” Hotch asked suddenly concerned again.

Marinette smiled, “I'm part of a wedding party so I need to be awake to help keep the bride calm and keep the groom from seeing her before she walks down the aisle towards him. I hope you don't mind but could we perhaps meet up again on Sunday at about 1 pm at my parents place so that we can talk about everything else that needs to be spoken about?” 

Everyone nodded as they were getting pretty sleepy, before Marinette could leave, however, Garcia piped up. “When everything started did you get a new phone and number or did you just change your number?”

“I bought a new phone and got a new number and only gave a select few the new number. I carry both with me but I very really check my old one these days. Why?”

Garcia smiled almost too sweetly and for some reason, Marinette felt that it didn't bode well when Garcia smiled like that.

“I just thought if you still had it we could sort through everything on it to see if we can use anything on it and see if we can use anything on it to help catch Lila.”

“Oh, um, sure I guess,” Marinette replied. “You'll probably find a lot of photo's of Adrien Agreste on it though. I went through a time when I had a massive crush on him, almost to the point of obsession so I had an insane collection of his photo's. We, that is Adrien and me, have spoken about it though and we decided we better off as friends for now. If you can find anything helpful on it feel free though.” As Marinette spoke she handed her old phone over to Garcia.

“Oh don't worry, if it's on there and it can be used my Baby Girl will find it,” Morgan stated confidently.

“Well aren't you the flatterer my Chocolate God” came the flirty reply. Marinette looked on in confusion.

“They not dating nor do they want to but this is just how they are,” Hotch reassured her placing a hand on her shoulder. “We'll see you on Sunday?” He asked a little less confidently.

“Barring an Akuma attach which could make me late, you will.”  Marinette smiled, then yawned.  “Come on Tikki, let's go get some sleep, we are going to need it.”  

@northernbluetongue; @moonlightstar64; @wargraymon0709; @winter-gardenflower

[crtlz-a-a]

CHERYL     MASON     :     natal   chart   .

SUN     :     cancer   .

sun in cancer natives have a strong survival instinct. they are protective of those they care about, and of themselves too. they are often quite reticent about sharing their inner selves to the rest of the world, and are often caught up in reminisce. cancers have a reputation for moodiness. cancer needs roots. they resist change to an extent, and concern themselves about being secure and safe in most everything they do. cancers can be quite intrigued by objects with history attached to them –– antiques, photos, souvenirs, and the like.

cancer is a very sensitive sign, and they don't always appreciate it when you are blunt with them. their reactions to hurt will depend on how thick a shell they have developed. most cancers react by withdrawing or retreating. some have developed an ability to manipulate others to get what they want. they avoid direct confrontations almost as a rule. cancers are, in fact, quite yielding and soft when you have them in the right mood. they are one of the more hospitable signs of the zodiac. sure, they can be touchy and indirect, but they are also very dependable, caring souls.

possible issues : she is humble, timid, changeable, indecisive, lazy, or over-sensitive. easily influenced by the family and sometimes manipulative.

MOON     :     scorpio   .

while others may find security and comfort in material things, moon in scorpio people seek out emotional intensity. No matter what, there is something very intense about lunar scorpios. they are diggers when it comes to the world of emotion –– they can see beyond facades and cut right to the core of a person. this ability to "see" what isn't obvious to the rest of the world can be intimidating to others or wildly attractive, depending on the audience.

their deep-seated need for transformation and rebirth can manifest itself in the lives of lunar scorpios in different ways. most have powerful, emotionally intense lives. some feel like it is beyond their control –– these natives seem to attract emotional upheaval, and their lives appear to consist of plenty of dramatic ups and downs. however, when accepted as an emotional need, rebirth and change doesn't need to be so dramatic and overwhelming. in some way or the other, moon in scorpio natives seek out intense experiences. if their lives are regular in any way, there can be an unconscious need to test their own strength and stir up emotional excitement. self-awareness and acceptance is probably the best way to handle this deep need for emotional drama.

doing things halfway or having meaningless relationships simply doesn't fulfill them. lunar scorpios want all or nothing. moon in scorpio people often have a strong fear of betrayal. they seek out commitment, and feel the need for a partner to give up something for them. some will put the people they love through a series of tests, and these are not always conscious. their apparent suspicion can be trying for the people who love them. however, once committed, moon in scorpio people can be the most loyal and protective partners around. even the shy ones have enormous presence. their lives are emotion-driven, yet many moon in scorpio natives spend a lot of time controlling and mastering their emotions. their intuition is enormous, although it is sometimes self-serving.

moon in scorpio people radiate strength. even in the absence of experience, they seem to "just know" things. it would be difficult to shock or scare away lunar scorpios in the face of emotional honesty and power. some people instinctively want to lean on them, and other less brave folk run a little scared. lunar scorpios have exceptional "radar" that allows them to size up a situation –– and a person –– quickly and expertly. this ability to understand human motivation and nature can be too close for comfort for some, and enormously comforting for others. many lunar scorpios are intelligent and astute. those that use their enormous powers for intimacy and honesty are the happiest, and they make the most interesting and rewarding friends and lovers.

MERCURY     :     leo   .

she wants to know the bottom line, and can be good at scoping out a situation and finding answers to problems. in fact, she is a problem-solver, and will spend a lot of time helping others solve problems if need be. very friendly and usually positive, she can be charming in a warm way. enthusiastic speaker, speaks with authority and sincerity. great sense of organization. playful. likes to take risks in jest and for amusement. might sometimes come across too strongly or offend sensitive folk with a somewhat authoritative tone.

RISING     :     scorpio   .

scorpio ascendant people have a lot of presence. there is something about them that tells the world that they are not to be pushed around. their manner commands respect, and in some cases, fear. scorpio rising people can be quiet or loud, but they always seem powerful and determined. you either love or hate scorpio rising people –– they are rarely people who go through life unnoticed. in fact, some of them are confused when faced with the fact that they get such strong reactions from others. they seem to look right through people, seeing through superficiality. this can be quite intimidating to some, and intriguing to others. scorpio rising people, in their dealings with others, look for answers by reading between the lines. surface details are discarded when they are getting a feel for people and situations around them.

scorpio rising people value their privacy so much, it can border on paranoia. they have a strong need to control their environment and are experts at strategy. rarely people who will blow their chances with impatience, they plan out their moves carefully and deliberately, relying on their awesome ability to feel out others and situations. scorpio rising natives are drawn to down-to-earth, natural partners. teliability in their partner is very important. they generally look for complete commitment and have little patience with flighty partners.

MARS     :     cancer   .

this position inclines toward passive-aggressiveness. these people seem to resist change and to shy away from direct confrontations. they need to feel secure before they act. as a result, they can appear rather slow at times. their motto is "the best offence is defense". they may appear weak to some, but they can be very strong. their strength lies in their tenaciousness. at their best, they turn others on with a protective, almost therapeutic way about them. the protective nature of cancer is best expressed when mars in cancer natives are turning the energy outward –– when they are being the protectors of others. turning it inwards is when there are problems.

these people are threatened by indifference. they can be argumentative and manipulative. their energy levels are variable, and they can appear to move rather slowly. they have defensive reactions and bursts of emotional displays when they feel cornered. with reassurance and confidence, these natives are protective, helpful, and dependable in the long haul. they prefer to handle situations peacefully and humanely.

VENUS     :     virgo   .

venus in virgo people are not the flirtatious sort. instead, their appeal lies in their dedication, their willingness to work on the relationship, and to make the relationship work in real terms. unlike venus in leo, they won't try to impress you with grand gifts or promises. their gifts are less showy, but perhaps far more generous –– gifts of devotion and attention to details about you. venus in virgo natives quietly (and often slowly) make their way into your heart. they are quite sensitive in love -- even insecure -- and this reserved, loner-like quality is part of their appeal. they prefer to play it safe in their relationships, and they need to be confident that you like them before they make a move. they are great listeners and they make it a habit to observe and learn all of your ins and outs. their love can be of the kindergarten variety –– they show they care by nagging or criticizing. remember, though, that they are not trying to hurt you when they are pointing out the flaws in your thinking, plans, or even character. they truly are trying to help! venus in virgo is attracted to nondescript people who have largely gone unnoticed. show-offs and know-it-alls turn them off. pleasing venus in virgo involves showing you appreciate them for all the little things they do –– and they do a lot. the problem is, they do these things so quietly that you may not always notice or credit them for all these kind gestures. they do need some space (after all, they're generally quite busy making everything work), so give it to them. be genuine, not ostentatious. they are really not difficult to please after you have taken care of these basic needs. avoid pushing your friends or family on them too –– remember they are a little shy. they aim to please, and are easily intimidated by your experiences. let them know how much you value them, and they will reward you with devotion and a charming willingness to talk things out.

[potterandpromises]

91 and 99 for Garcy, please?

Failed Analysis

Set a few months post Chinatown. 

Summary: Lucy has been dropping subtle hints for months. Unfortunately, subtle isn’t Flynn’s style.

Content warning(s): Self-esteem issues, non-consensual cuddling, food, & one (1) murder joke. 

Also on AO3

Flynn wakes to a familiar warm weight curled into this chest. He resists the urge to brush the hair from her face, for fear of startling her, and for ending this moment too soon.

It’s become a habit, after a particularly difficult mission, or when she simply needs to talk, or be with another warm body, for them to sit and talk and fall asleep together. He feels a pang of guilt: she must have needed him last night.

7:03, the clock reads. The others will be up soon, and he briefly considers waking her. But she’s peaceful now and that’s a precious thing, for her and for him, given this tradition won’t last the storm. Hopefully whatever caused her to come here didn’t steal too much sleep. They’ll talk about it later, he decides.

The Mothership alarm goes off.

-

For once, no one died or was seriously injured, which is a success in and of itself. It was the easiest mission he can remember. So, he is moderately annoyed with his joints for aching: there is no good excuse.

(No, middle-age isn’t a good excuse.)

(And he really can’t consider what would happen if he truly got too old for this.)

Perhaps Lucy will want to watch a movie with him, as has become a part of their routine on the less heavy of days—

Lucy.

Lucy is… sitting on his bed, book in hand, and… wearing his sweater. Yup, definitely his sweater.

This isn’t the first time she’s borrowed clothing of his— she’d had to help him with his clothes and sling after Chinatown, and it had been advantageous to borrow something loose-fitting. Then there was the night she’d broken down sobbing, which ended with snot covered shirts. And, most recently before this, she’d just said she was cold. His sweaters look good on her. But he can’t comprehend the scene before him. Maybe she’s cold again, or wants comfort. But she has her own clothes. This time, there is no reason for her to want—

“I can leave if…”

“No, no,” he’s staring, and his stupid face burns, “I’m happy to have your company.” She smiles shyly, and makes room for him to join.

As Flynn settles next to her with his own book, he’s glad for the queen bed this newest safe house provides— not that he hated their last arrangement: Lucy atop his chest. But it didn’t lend itself to casual affairs: they couldn’t read, silently, separately, but together, as they do now.

Flynn doubts he’ll get much reading done at present, though. They still have to talk about this morning, and for that matter, her current choice of fashion. But her contentment is enough to delay it, leaving him to stew.

Is she ignoring what happened out of guilt? they’d talked about that. Embarrassment? they have to be past that by now, right? Denial; simple distress at the memory? Maybe she just wants to move on.

“Lucy?”

“Mm?”

“Are you okay?”

She stiffens next to him, and it’s barely felt. Then she sits up, and he follows her example, licks his lips and waits. He won’t push any further. After a moment, she closes her book with more care then necessary and stares at him, on guard, analyzing. He swallows, it’s been a long time since she’s looked at him like that.

“I’m fine,” she says slowly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He gestures vaguely, and she flashes a playful smile. It dies unreciprocated. ”Well, last night—” he starts. “You’ve been more…” he searches for a word that won’t sound accusatory, “affectionate—”

She laughs involuntarily. “Walt, is that what this is—” Something shifts, her smile fades. “Do you not… want that?”

Flynn doesn’t understand the question. Obviously, he doesn’t want her to be in a bad place. But that doesn’t seem to be what she’s asking.

Without an answer, she comes up with her own, and she looks devastated. He reaches out, but she’s already moving away, almost felling out of bed. “I’m sorry.” She’s wiping away tears. “I should go—”

She’s already at the door, and his chest is tight. “That wasn’t a criticism.” She stills, and with one hand on the doorknob, turns back to him. Her eyes hold weariness, and something he can’t name. “I enjoy your company,” he continues, wondering how she’s not internalized that, and knowing the answer. “I’m just… concerned.”

Relief visibly washes over her, and he can breath easier too, but it’s tainted with confusion. “So you— I should go.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I’ll see you later,” she promises, exiting in haste.

The bed creaks as Flynn falls back, exhausted and deeply bewildered.

-

At the top of the stairs, Flynn watches Lucy make tea, which she only drinks to self-soothe. He doesn’t like seeing her this way, but somehow, it’s reassuring to know he isn’t the only one still affected.

Despite his best efforts at analysis, he’s no closer to understanding what happened. It seemed she wasn’t coping well, and he confronted her about it. But clearly, he badly miss-read the situation. And as a result, led her to believe she wasn’t wanted, that what she did and needed was a burden. It was only for one, horrible moment, and he’s knowingly done far worse, but still, it weighs on him.

They need to talk, need to understand each other. Flynn takes a deep breath, tries to cast a friendly face, and steps on the squeaky board he ordinarily avoids on principle. Lucy looks up, then away, uncomfortable.

Okay.

He tries to catch her eye, to offer a smile. But she avoids it, causing Flynn to give preparing his cereal the same focus he affords missions against Rittenhouse.

“That milk is low.“ When he turns, she’s looking into her tea. “There’s a new carton behind the casserole.”

With some reluctance, he sits down across from her. And as she stares to his right at an unappealing mark on the well, Flynn rather wishes he were defusing a bomb. But it’s not like they can avoid each other for long, so: “Are we—”

“You really don’t get what I’ve been trying to convey these past few months.” He stares, and so does she. And before he can ask for clarification, she sighs, frustrated. “Do you honestly believe that I couldn’t ever have feelings for you?” it’s enough for him to short circuit, “Is that it?“

Her eyes are glistening now, and before he realizes it, one hand is halfway to her. But he stops dead, and his fingers close around nothing. He isn’t— she can’t possibly mean…

But there is no other way to take it.

(Is there?)

It’s happening again; except no one’s about to die, and her mother’s body is long decomposed, and Wyatt is fast asleep. And it wasn’t an accident this time, she could have given any number of half-truths or told him to drop it and he would have accepted that. But she wants him to know. She wants him.

(Why?)

“Flynn?”

“I thought…” It comes out croaked. “When I saw you taking with Wyatt after— you know,” but she doesn’t know, “I sort of assumed that was where you wanted to be. Long-term, romantically.“

“No.” She looks more defeated than ever. “No, that’s in the past. Why would you even think that?” There’s offence in her tone on the latter part, and he doesn’t blame her: she deserves better. But clearly, that isn’t how it works.

“Well, there’s certainly plenty of reasons not to,” a million, “but I know love isn’t always convenient— ”

“And I fall in love with you!” she bolts up and the chair scrapes violently against the floor, “Not him.”

Flynn is certain his heart has stopped; her’s too, by the way she recoils in on herself. And they stay like that, faces turning bright pink, Flynn distressingly aware of how someone probably heard that and they’ll have to ether explain themselves or bury some bodies. Then Lucy grabs her tea with enough uncoordinated force to spill it on herself. And he’s far too eager to fetch a towel.

He wants to leave, to process or maybe ignore this (in love), but you can’t unring a bell, and the last thing he wants is for her to think she’s scared him away. So instead, he hovers nearby as she dries her sleeve off and avoids his gaze.

“It could have been a bomb,” he points out.

“What?”

“Our misunderstanding, it could have been about a bomb.”

Her lips twitch, then she gives in to laughter. And when she looks up again, he does his best to reflect her glory in a reassuring smile. “What I’m I going to do with you?” There’s fondness, and love, love, in her bright eyes, the one thing he’d never, ever wanted to hope for. But he did, and she is here.

“Whatever you want.”

With pursed lips, she tilts her chin up. “How do you feel about ice cream?”

-

They lay on her bed, empty bowls temporarily abandoned in favor of cuddling without excuses or false assumptions. “You know, I thought you were flirting back, I mean I guess you were, since you do— “ love, he loves her, she’s known for awhile, “Like me.”

She’d had doubts about the exact nature of their relationship, but he’d made his feelings, his expressions when he thought she wouldn’t notice, difficult to honestly interpret as friendship. So, she thoroughly examined the evidence, as any good academic would, and concluded that the butterflies must be mutual. And last night, she worried she got it all wrong, read too much into it, saw what she wanted to see. But no, the last six months could not just be written off as a misunderstanding; rather, they’re just bad at this.

“This um, isn’t the first time I’ve done that.” Lucy shifts in order to rise her eyebrows at him. “Lorena casually said we were dating, and that was news to me. Good news.”

Half atop his chest, she laughs. Somehow, it feels good to know he’s always been like this.

She climbs upward, so she can rest, and feel his heartbeat under her cheek. “So you want to do this,” she murmurs, because she has to, “Not hiding thing?”

He’s silent too long, and despite all the evidence, she’s scared. “Yes, my love.”

[gaudeixcc]

Peleton News – Confessions (G18 Tour special – April 2018)

This year’s tour was a little fractured to start with.

JT, my honorable (although diminutive) co-chair has been living in Munich for some time, so has reluctantly lobbed all administrative tasks my way. He still of course has a pointy figure hovering over the keyboard most hours of the day to fire off a bullet-like reminder should any delegated task fall in to the overdue category.

My approach this year had been to further convolute the whole process by sub-delegating further down the value chain. This year RTA picked up route-planning duties, shouldering the full burden once Moley had thrown the metaphoric towel into the Gaudeix corner.

JT arrived the night before to settle into Hotel Mariposa and to busy himself ready for our arrival next morning, where, his welcoming party preparation of sundry nibbles, iced towels, freshly pressed mango juice and 6 flutes of chilled Champaign could be seen exactly nowhere.

Quietly bikes were built and readied.

I don’t with to appear overly-critical at this early stage, however I feel it is important to highlight areas where improvement could be made.

My first area of improvement relates to a mathematical ratio.

13.2 is an acceptable ratio.

60 is a completely unacceptable ratio.

Back in the day when I rode motorcycles for my thrill-seeking pleasure, the most expensive item of an accessory nature was the helmet. An oft quoted saying was ‘If you’ve got a £10 head, get a £10 helmet’.

I valued my head at considerable more than £10 and hence why I could be seen peacocking about the place in the latest stealth MotoGP inspired bonce-protecting loveliness from Arai, makers of the very best.

And the same is true of bikes and their bags.

If you’ve got a ratty old Trek which you equally be happy to see as landfill as opposed to nestled between your legs, then by all means bag it with a carrier from Tesco.

If on the other hand you have a carbonfibre creation, with composite wheels, electronic shifting and less weight than a fat sparrow, then for fucks sake, buy a proper bag.

Is there a correlation between 2 visits to a bike shop for fixing 2 bikes hurled into fifty quid bags?

Answers on a postcard…

Next year we are going to be introducing the video referee to dish out ‘after the event’ fines and tickets to offences against cycling such as this little atrocity.

Anyway, peleton delayers aside, we had quite a good tour from a reliability perspective.

No flats at all in 3 days of riding.

Not bad going considering the excess baggage about 50% of the peloton where wheeling about the place.

It can be a harsh life travelling with a pack of cyclists. As a group, we are generally slow to acknowledge quality but lightening-fast to highlight weakness.

This year’s theme was most definitely fatness.

It all started when Dripping decided to relax on day one and let his guard down.

The relief a fat Victorian lady must feel when at the end of a day grazing on mutton, savory puddings and broiled swan, she releases the strings on her corset, was probably how Dripping felt as he gently supped an ale whilst not ‘tensed’ or ‘sucking it in for dear life’ sitting quietly in the sun.

It was harsh and cruel for Mac to take a picture of Dripping at rest in such an unguarded state. The resulting snap caused almost immediate physiological damage, which was then added to by verbal slappery of the worst kind from almost all.

Macca’s boobs got a much lower level of attention than would otherwise have been.

But the real crime in the whole torrid ‘fatgate’ affair, was a quietly outed photo from Colchester Mac which showed what looked like a Michelin Man ballooned around a struggling Cannondale, legs bouncing hard off an impressive midriff as the owner snuffled and puffed his sorry arse up a hill.

That night James in a moment of shocking and completely unexpected kindness said to me ‘You’ve put on a bit of timber this year’…..

It’s about as nice as he’s ever been to me in the 15 years of friendship we have shared.

Ever.

Meanwhile, back in the Peloton, Whatsapp was on fire as fat Michelin man took a breather from cycling, sat down, drank a beer, guzzled food and then promptly took a micro-nap to allow his body to digest this latest onslaught of calories.

The peloton…. They can be mighty cruel to those built for comfort.

Anyway…let’s move on. Let’s talk compliments….

‘Love the tattoos’

‘You’re girlfriend is very pretty. The plastic she has had inserted in the chest area is both proportionally perfect and pleasing to the eye’

‘Nice denim’

‘Wow.. impressive steed’.

All of the above are probably good ways to make a hells angel feel special.

Alternatively, you could surprise the life out of him by slapping him on the arse as you cycle past at 15 mph…. showing shock and dismay on your face and general surprise that he hadn’t apparently heard your tinckly bike-bell.

I arrived at a stationary Peloton to find Macca being verbally abused by a very angry biker who was busy calling us all arseholes……. I mean he was right…. Must have been a lucky guess.

This was another visible demonstration of Macca’s intolerance to a good swathe of human kind.

On the flight out, Moley’s seat on the plane had been taken by a Turkish lady of more senior years and built like I will be if I don’t stop eating constantly.

She was resting up from the exertion of having had to climb the stairs at the rear of the bus and drag her cabin bag the 6 yards to her seat. The bag was then occupying Macca’s seat whilst she appeared to be cuddling it.

This was clearly a cue for some helpful soul to then lift it into one of the overhead lockers and help her out.

Macca, ignoring this cue like the plague, barked at her. He informed the startled greek lady that he owned the seat, not her bag, and would she kindly get a shift on and move it.

The plane went awkwardly quiet.

Trembling, the lady dressed in black wobbled to her feet and with oscilating bingo wings hoisted the bag upward. There was a moment or 2 when none of us could be sure the bag was going to make it. Like an Olympic weightlifter going  for a PB, there was a pause, a grunt and then a final push… the bag was in.

Macca looked on in bland indifference.

She sat down, glazed with a sheen of garlic and thyme perspiration.

I think secretly Macca was hoping for an engine issue, a wayward turbofan blade and the exiting of the Greek weightlifter from the above-wing window seat.

He fumed quietly for most of the flight.

I suppose I should at some point talk about the cycling.

As with all these tours there is a lot to cover. But, as with most years, I generally can’t be arsed doing so and instead revert to the well-established highlights list.

So, here goes for G18, Malaga;

• Dripping confessing to having voted tactically in previous tours when it came to the yellow cap. Berlusconi-esque in its political nefariousness • C&N orange camo base layer • Mrs RTA’s contribution to the tour…. Can’t name it for legal reasons, but it went down exceptionally well • RTA’s ghost-like completion on date realisation • General higher standard of dress quality (although I still feel the shame and hurt from the explicit savaging I got from Dripping on the yellow cap voting paper… he went into enough detail to require and appendix FFS…) • Damo’s use of the back pen on photos • Whilst he did fuck all in his season of pink, Damo did at least sort out everyone elses mechanical catastrafucks whilst on tour • RTA’s route planning. Magestic. Simply nailed it to the floor. The pink was going one way only after 3 days of beautiful scenery • I hate losing. I especially hate losing to Dripping. I especially especially hate losing to Dripping twice. First time I made an error of timing. After having nearly lost a lung hunting down my prey I should have tailed his sorry ass for half a K before nailing the finish. I didn’t and paid heavily. Day 3’s mechanical was akin to running out of petrol 50 yards short of the finish line. I was running in the red and Drip snuck in and nicked my lunch. Absolute bastard. • Col Mac’s ‘Spam’ top • Macca’s deep-seated suspicion of foreign restaurants… he had me convinced that the preparers of our final meal where going to triple the bill, hack our phones, empty our accounts, spit in our food and quite possibly steal our children. What they actually ended up doing was serving us food which was simply sensational and probably the best meal I’ve eaten in the last 12 months, and then go on to charge us very modestly for it too. • Strange fact number 1. Everything edible in Malaga is cooked in beef fat. • Strange fact number 2. There is nothing wrong with 7 over 40 year olds drinking pink gin with berries in the glass. Completely hetrosexual and in keeping with the modern men we are. (On reflection, I think Colchester Mac way have swerved the gin actually) • If I have to hear one more bloody time about how good wahoo is…… you didn’t invent the fucking thing for the love of sweet baby Jesus… • Shit Garmins • The descent on day 3…on day one going up it I nearly died…. On day 3 coming down I could have cried…. Probably the best descent this peloton has tasted. • This year’s tour caps…. Top quality. • A vintage year that saw our first triple-cap…. ! Yes, my (well deserved) orange nailed a hat trick of caps (although only 2 physical caps probably maketh the point moot). • Desire takes many forms. But few have the strength and longing that have been displayed with the force of a Dripping wanting yellow. He may have ‘bought’ the cap, but god it was worth it to see his little face!! • Murdering 9 oranges to make 1 drink

And finally, whilst we have our highlights list, we also have a lowlights list. This one is my own personal list…. Only 2 entries… and neither of them spotted or witnessed by the Peloton;

1. On unpacking my bike and reassembling, somehow my fat fucking fingers and squinty eyesight have managed to crush the Di2 cable that runs the front mech…. FFS… bike now on turbo in just the little ring…. Horrible humble and apologetic call to Damo/Amy coming shortly. I can actually feel Damo’s eyebrows raise as he reads this…. (and can actually here him say ‘well you’re a fucking idiot aren’t you’…..) 2. Do you know what Raybans hitting tarmac at 20 mph sound like? No? It took me a while to figure it out too…. Well, 10 miles worth of fast riding to be precise…. And then I sulked quietly for 20 mins when I realised that day 2 would be the last time I went our armed with more than one pair of sunnies…… I kepy it quiet because Trusler would have definitely shit himself laughing at that one…..

So there we have it. Drip and Mac need new bike bags if they are to show their cycling faces ever again, Macca needs to take a tolerance pill twice daily, Damo needs to tut in my general direction, JT needs to not mention sunnies to me ever again, Moley needs to get his shit together in readiness for G19 and RTA needs to take a well deserved bow to a round of applause from the Peloton.

Malaga, G18…. Magic.

Hoppo

[jokessho]

Fic: Courage

For if you’re not afraid, how can you be really brave? –Tove Jansson

I really appreciate Matt.

Not just because he’s now my best friend, but because he used to be my rival.

Don’t get me wrong; I used to hate him for always arguing with me. We fought like cats and dogs, often getting physical and really hurting each other.

Occasionally we do still fight, but they’re not as lengthy as they used to be. These days we realise when we’re in the wrong and why the other is telling us that we’re being an asshole. For example, I’ll say something inconsiderate and Matt will immediately snap at me and tell me I’m an idiot. Sometimes I will try to defend myself (in vain) for a bit, but soon come to the conclusion that, yes, Matt is right and I’m being an inconsiderate jerk. I apologise to whoever was offended and then everyone’s happy. This works the other way round, too.

We both realise that we have our flaws and faults and that the other person completes us. Matt’s the thinker, the one who will consider all options and everyone’s feelings, but sometimes he thinks too long and the opportunity passes. I’m the hothead - the one who ploughs on without considering others or other options and I make decisions as soon as the opportunity presents itself. But sometimes I make the wrong move. In that way, we really complete each other; we balance each other out. Together we are unstoppable.

Back to what I was discussing in the beginning: why I appreciate Matt for always having fought with me back in the Digital World. Well, it’s easy to be a good leader if everyone follows you like sheep, right? If everyone just goes along with whatever you say, then of course you’d be a good leader. Just like it’s easy to be courageous if you’re not afraid of anything. But I, of all people, know that courage is not the same as not being afraid. Real courage is facing your fears. Just like being a good leader entails facing criticism.

And, boy, did Matt criticise! It really pissed me off. But now, as I said, I appreciate it. It’s made me a better person and leader. His arguments forced me to defend my own opinion, teaching me how to stand up for my beliefs in the face of adversity.

He made my skin thicker.

He made me stronger.

Now I want to be his strength.

We started dating last week.

Some homophobes from our high school found out and, naturally, now the whole school knows. No one dares to approach us physically (Yama and I are well-known for our fighting abilities), but we get a lot of hate in the corridors.

Matt taught me how to face this kind of criticism. I never returned the favour...

Sure, he knows how to take a punch and some harsh words, but, at the same time, he’s more sensitive than I am and others’ opinions of him do affect him on a deeper level. He doesn’t let it show, but I know that, currently, he’s like a ticking time-bomb – I don’t know when he’ll break, but I want to be there for him.

I can see it happening already: him finally cracking and telling me all his deepest fears, and me countering all his arguments. Just like in the Digital World. Only this time we’re not rivals or arguing; he’ll probably be crying and I won’t be an inconsiderate prick.

I want to be there for him. To be his strength. To give back some of the strength he forced upon me five years ago.

I look to him now, sitting there, in class, one row to my right and two seats forward.

Is he thinking about those comments from earlier? Is he trying to focus on his work in order to drown out negative thoughts? Is he sending me silent pleas to ask him about it?

He’s looking at me. Maybe he is asking me to approach him about it.

Wait.

He’s giving me a strange look and jabbing his head minutely towards the front of the cl—Shit!

The teacher’s staring at me expectantly, looking like she has just asked me something. No idea what it was.

I look to my best friend, wishing that we were in maths, instead of literature, so that the answer would be a simple number, instead of a long, philosophical analysis of something. As expected, Matt can offer me no help on this matter right now.

Sheepishly, I ask the teacher to repeat the question, but she just sighs in disappointment and turns to another of my classmates for the answer. I tune her out and turn to my boyfriend, giving him a huge grin, both of us knowing that I somehow, miraculously, avoided getting a detention. He just rolls his big blue eyes and returns to his notes.

The rest of the class passes by without incident – a fact which I am grateful for – and we are released from school until tomorrow morning.

I shove my things into my book bag and rush over to Yamato’s desk. He’s putting his things into his bag in a calm and orderly fashion. He cares about the state of his books and papers and has separate folders and notebooks for all his classes, plus the one he writes music notes in every so often.

The Teenage Wolves officially retired from the music business last year, but music is still a sort of outlet for Matt. He still composes new songs and sings them to me and the rest of the Digidestined gang, or just keeps them to himself. I’m glad he has this way of expressing himself; starting a band and writing songs really helped him come out of his shell. He’s even shown me a few songs that he wrote when he was feeling really depressed and there are a few that helped him come to terms with his feelings for me. I’m honoured that he would share those with me.

I watch as he rises from his seat and smiles at me. I love his smile. Back in the Digital World his smile was either sarcastic or exaggerated; he would either smirk, or laugh obnoxiously. It annoyed me so much back then, but now I realise that it was a defence mechanism. Oh, don’t get me wrong, his smirk is all natural. But the laughing wasn’t. It was always to hide something or put up a front for Takeru. He still doesn’t laugh much, but I’ve been lucky enough to have witnessed the few times that he did.

We leave the school, walking close, but not too close. Just because most of the school knows about us doesn’t mean that we need to be constantly reminding them of our closeness. No, it’s best if we confine our relationship to our apartments and, occasionally, the secluded areas of the park at night time.

We reach his apartment. His father’s not home. I pull him over to the sofa and let him snuggle against my chest. I run my hand through his silky, blond locks. I love his hair.

Should I ask him? Would he tell me? Would he allow himself to show weakness already at this stage in our relationship?

My stomach ruins the peaceful moment we’re having and he graces me with one of his rare, soft laughs, offering to make me something to eat. I accept and we make our way to his kitchen.

Ever since he retired from the band, both his kitchen and whole apartment have been spotless. The place used to be a mess, but now that he has time, he is putting his house working skills to good use. Many jokes have been passed about him making the perfect wife for someone, someday, or of him being a household Goddess. He usually just brushes those kinds of things off, taking no offence.

I wrap my arms around his slim waist, pulling his back into my chest, nuzzling his shoulder. He swats at me playfully, telling me that I’ll have to eat off the floor soon. I wouldn’t mind; as I said, his house is nearly spotless. Yet, I let him go and retreat to sit at the kitchen table. I just watch him. I like watching him; he has a certain grace and elegance to his movements, which I admire. He seems to flow seamlessly form one action to another. It looks so effortless.

He’s told me that he likes the way I move. I do wonder about that. He scolds me when I question his statement. He says that I have very good control of my body on the field, when I’m kicking the ball around.

He sets the table whilst waiting for the food to finish cooking. He’s a great cook. Now that he has more time, he has been able to keep the fridge stocked with fresh ingredients and has been able to produce amazing dishes from those.

I’m lucky to have him.

Food appears on the table as I’m lost in my thoughts, but I manage to catch his wrist after he places the last dish on the table. I pull him to me and he has an amused look on his face. I kiss him. Nothing too deep or passionate. But nothing too chaste, either.

A light blush dusts his normally pale cheeks, but his deep blue eyes are bright with happiness. I love making him happy. And if that happens to involve kissing him, then all the better.

We eat in relative silence, mainly because we’ve both been taught not to talk with our mouths full. It doesn’t bother us, though; we’re perfectly comfortable just hanging out in silence. Yamato is very quiet anyway, so I know he doesn’t mind the silence. I like to talk and am known for babbling on and on about mundane things, but I am also comfortable with silence, since I know actions, or just the mere presence of another person, speaks louder than words do.

I’ve learned to read Matt quite well, I think. I can tell when he just wants to cuddle in silence and when he wants me to fill that silence with inane talk.

He also understands me and my moods better than anyone else. A lot of people think that I wear my heart on my sleeve, showing everyone exactly what I’m feeling. That is the case most of the time, but there are times when I do try to hide behind a mask. Yama is the only one who catches me at this and confronts me about it once we’re alone. Have I mentioned how lucky I am to have him?

I always do the dishes for him. At first he tried to protest, but I convinced him to let me. It’s the least I can do, after all, since he cooks for me. And loves me. I don’t think I can ever truly repay him for loving me. I can try to pamper him and I love him with my whole being, but it doesn’t seem like it comes anywhere close to how much I actually appreciate his love for me. I hope he never leaves me. I don’t think I could stand it.

He grabs a towel and starts drying off the dishes that I’ve washed and rinsed. I tried to get him to let me take care of everything, but he convinced me otherwise by saying that it’ll be faster with him drying. It leaves us with more time together. I was sold.

We retreat back to the couch and my hand immediately shoots into his hair. It’s so addicting. Most of Matt’s fans would kill to get a chance to even touch his hair. What most of them don’t know is that he doesn’t really take long at all to fix his hair. In fact, he does very little with it; only washing, conditioning, and combing. No gel, no spray, nothing. Sometimes he forgets to comb his hair, but it’s so silky that no one really notices. Besides, it’s usually only on days when we’re together and not going out, so I comb it for him with my fingers.

He seems to be falling asleep under my ministrations. Wouldn’t be the first time. I smile at him fondly, not that he can see it.

I think he’s ok. I may have been making mountains out of molehills. He’s strong. He’s faced criticism for his music, so what’s a little homophobia?

I look at the peaceful figure in my lap.

How did I ever doubt his strength? He’s already had to endure so much in life – a few negative comments from peers won’t phase him.

He gives a big sigh and opens his eyes, gazing deeply into mine, as if to tell me that he’ll be fine – that he is fine.

His pale hand comes up to cup the back of my head. He pulls me down for a kiss.

Even if he does crack – I catch myself thinking – I’ll be there for him.

We pull apart. A lazy, contented smile is splayed on his lips.

“I love you.” I whisper.

[coexistxcoldrain]

Stuck

Title: Stuck (AO3 Link, please visit! :) ) Author: yaoionshavedice / hesonlytiny Rating: Teen and up Warnings: Love~ Ship: Masato/Colin Words: ~3.500 Summary:  “Are you … trying to flirt with me?”

“Yes … and no.” ... “I’m not trying to, that is.” Notes: Not a native speaker! Please do give constructive criticism :) Again, this ship is still very rare/I made it up, lol. So please feel free to visit my AO3 to get some more information about the dudes. I’d feel honoured if you could give it a try and leave a kudo/like/reblog <3 (Yes, this is the last of my ‘old’ fanfics lol). Have fun :) 

Stuck

It was already some moments after midnight when I decided to go for a stroll in this early summer’s weak moonlight. Maybe go check up on the goods at the closest konbini first.

It had been a series of slow and ungrateful days. Don’t get me wrong, I did enjoy my days off, but such a stark contrast to the busy and socially active work days was bound to confuse your psyche. I knew that my body had yearned for some peace and quiet and even though I felt a bit lonely, I knew that it was ultimately good for my soul.

It was this awkward stage between having finished recording the new album and rehearsing for the upcoming tour. And I’d spend most of those nights outside, breathing in the still pleasantly chilly night air to forget the ache in my head.

After having entered the elevator, I assumed my usual spot next to the buttons and leaned against the wall. Pressed first floor. Waited till the doors closed. Glanced inside the mirror opposite of me.

God, I looked so worn out. Good thing no one besides me would notice, anyway. My black beanie covered half of my tousled bleached and toned hair, and a black mask half of my face. Only the dark circles beneath my tired eyes were a foolproof indicator of what was really going on. But here, people usually didn’t look you in the face. Especially not so late at night. I’d get a few snacks, maybe a coke, and walk through the neighbourhood–

Suddenly the elevator stopped a tad too soon and it took me a while to realise that someone else in this building had to have a similar idea. As the doors opened, I only glanced at the person in passing. Actually, I wasn’t that interested in seeing anyone, so I didn’t care about them anyway, but stepping in was a man I’d never before seen in this complex. Granted, not quite astonishing seeing that the building itself was rather big, but said guy obviously didn’t seem to be … local.

As the doors closed behind him, he pressed one of the buttons and nodded to me in a set phrase manner; acknowledging my presence. He was quite a bit taller than me and his black curly ruffled hair made me want to take back the comment about whatever state I thought my hair was in. He was neither wearing a mask, nor some sort of hat and his sweatshirt seemed to be a tad too cosy for this time of year.

But before I could take an even closer look at this guy, the elevator suddenly stuttered and with a clunk it stopped in its tracks. I was insanely caught by surprise, had to have been too deep lost in my thoughts about that man, funnily enough, so that my heart dropped at the unfamiliar happening and a hot shiver creeped down my neck. Then it got cold. I instinctively tried to hold onto anything I could reach – which was of course plain useless, so to say.

But now the elevator didn’t do a single thing anymore. And suddenly we were stuck.

“Fuck,” I heard him blurt out in horror and saw him spontaneously lose his entire skin colour all at once. Not that he’d had a lot to begin with. He was obviously English speaking, though I could not quite guess where he was from exactly. His darting looks, however, spoke of mild discomfort, to say the least. And I wasn’t entirely sure whether that came from being stuck or being stuck here with me.

“Don’t worry,” I tried to reassure him as calmly as I could possibly manage, “they listen to the emergency calls 24/7. Let me do that.”

I didn’t look at him before I turned around to face the speaker and pressed the button in hopes of hearing anybody really on the other side. The guy remained silent, maybe not an English speaker after all, but at least the operator did answer, much to my relief.

“Good evening. Erm, it seems like I am stuck here in the elevator on the 3rd floor maybe? It won’t move anymore. We’re two people in here,” I explained in my most calm, slightly polite Japanese. I might have misheard, but I could swear the guy’d gasped suddenly hearing me speak Japanese.

“I understand. I’m so sorry for the inconvenience. We’ll be there as soon as we can but I’m afraid it may still take some time, Sir. In the meantime, remain calm and do not try anything.”

I let the operator know I’d understood and shuffled around to again face the other person. I’d heard that mechanics in other countries sometimes try to let you fix the problem by yourself, giving you instructions. That way, the mechanics don’t have to leave their office and the people in the elevator get out faster. Unfortunately, this was not the way of Japan.

“What did he say?” The guy faced me with somewhat of a nervous laugh, if that was the way to describe it. His glances were fleeting, as though he couldn’t quite decide if it was worth looking me in the eye. I shrugged and removed my face mask. I wasn’t sick, I was just sick of being so sick and tired.

“They … heard our S.O.S call. They’ll be here in a few … Scratch that and make that a lot,” I giggled in a hushed voice. “They try to please you, but it takes some time due to traffic.”

“Well, that’s awkward then,” he mumbled under his breath and rubbed his hands over his face before letting himself drop to the floor. I didn’t quite know what to do or say.

“I’m Colin by the way,” he said, this time a bit clearer, and he even looked me in the eye while extending his hand for me to shake. The angle, however, was a bit awkward too, and so I joined him on the floor before I shook it. “Might as well get to know each other if we’re stuck here for half an eternity.”

“No one said anything about an eternity,” I joked and gave him my name as well, Masato Hayakawa and all.

Sitting like this on the floor, each of us with the opposite wall behind their back, legs awkwardly stretched out next to one another, feet almost touching the wall the other had occupied, made me wish I wouldn’t have sat quite as close.

“So, you’re … a broker?”

“What?” I echoed confused, laughing, “What even makes you think that?”

“You look fancy,” he explained a bit more confident this time. Something had changed, even if I didn’t yet know what. “You look like how I’d imagine a broker looks like.”

“Jesus.” Now I was the one to run my hands through my face. “You’re not real.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he chuckled with his low voice and for the first time during this encounter, I could actually focus on his accent. His words came out slurred, in such a way that his tongue sounded heavy. Sometimes they were hard for me to understand, but it sure as hell made him seem interesting. “I meant to say … you look good. That suits you.”

“If brokers are your kinda deal …” I tried to go with his flow but in reality I was taken slightly aback by his straightforward nature. Yes, there were indeed different cultures at play, but English and Japanese were so unlike each other, too. Normally, you’d only compliment other people on their skills, on superficial things, really. And you were supposed to downplay it as well; ‘no, no! I’m really not that good at all.’ In English, however … that was quite a different thing. When was it you’re supposed to compliment someone? I suddenly hated the fact that I could not tell whether he had honestly meant it or not.

Colin nodded in understanding; lips clenched in a somewhat friendly smile.

No one looked good in an elevator’s bright, neon lights, frankly said. I knew I looked like death, observing myself in the small mirror. But for some reason he managed to appear as unfazed by it as grass by rain. And, honestly, I looked terrifying. Looking at myself looking like that, I was suddenly afraid my reflection would come to life and want to murder Colin right then and there.

“I’m sorry if I’m too straightforward but … I take it that you’re American?”

I muffled a pained laugh in hopes of concealing my true feelings regarding this particular question. I knew that he had meant no harm, however. Hardly anyone ever did, of course. I cleared my throat. “Yes and no, I guess …”

I watched him raise one eyebrow in confusion and finally saw the penny drop little by little. “I’m half American, half Japanese. But I’ve been raised here, so …”

Colin nodded. When he bit his lips like that, dimples appeared on his lower cheeks. He looked at the ground, by this time having pulled up his legs in order to hug and hold them in place; the sleeves of his sweat shirt rolled up showed off his underarms. He wasn’t awkward by any means, that wasn’t it. I just couldn’t put my finger on why he’d suddenly changed persona so quickly.

“It’s just, your accent …” he tried to justify but I didn’t take any further offence, it was fair enough, really.

“So, you’re here for work?”

He paused, letting my question roll over his tongue deliberately. His dark lashes cast a deep shadow onto his cheeks. “I could be,” he answered then but his eyes still wouldn’t meet mine fully. “But the truth is: I met someone here. I don’t live in Japan and I don’t intend to. Coincidentally, I just know someone living in this building.”

Now it was my turn to nod. We were running out of questions to ask and there was no way we could establish a comfortable conversation. It didn’t feel like it …

“You could be?”

“I’m an actor; I’ve had offers here before.”

I honestly didn’t want to get into details about my profession, so I again just nodded off his statement and wished the mechanic would finally turn up. Something about that guy, or just our interaction in general, felt off. It was tensed up. Awkward. And I couldn’t at all grasp why.

“I have to admit that you looked odd with your mask on at first, but your nose is really pretty.”

“My nose?” I laughed in response, because I didn’t know what else to do. So silly to say it like that …

“It gives you character,” he explained further, even if it happened to make me slightly more uncomfortable. “You shouldn’t hide it.”

“Like this?” I asked and pulled up my black mask again; hiding my chin, mouth and nose; watching his face screw up in the process. I grinned. It made it a bit easier. I was sure he didn’t intend to let it sound creepy, but it kinda got across that way.

“Such a pity, you’re so handsome.”

“You know that there’s a purpose for these masks, right? That I’m not hiding just because?”

He shrugged nonchalantly, almost as though he didn’t care in the end after all. “I’m just saying that … you’re pretty.”

What a weird guy that was. He didn’t care about embarrassing himself in the slightest. He just said what was right on his tongue; without thinking about it for a second. He simply did not care. He was honest; authentic. It was kind of fascinating, really. But refreshing in a good way.

“Are you … trying to flirt with me?”

I just had to ask. I couldn’t stop those words rolling right off my lips. I’d been wondering since the moment he’d first opened his mouth in this elevator. My skin tingled; everywhere. Maybe, just maybe … I wished he did.

“Yes … and no.”

I waited a bit in order to let him finish his sentence. But he never did, so it was my turn to raise an eyebrow questioningly.

“I’m not trying to, that is.”

Oh God. I hadn’t expected that kind of response. Honestly? I’d been kidding. Sort of. Or rather … I hadn’t wanted to hear those words. But now that they were here … what exactly was I supposed to say? He’d absolutely thrown me off balance.

By this time, I’d already pulled down my mask again. I wasn’t sure how I came across, but I sure as hell felt like a little lost boy for a moment. Cold ground beneath me, fingers playing with the hem of my pants, hesitant eyes wandering across the tiny compartment. I didn’t know what to say.

“Hey,” he nudged one of my feet with one of his to get my attention. When I glanced up, he was sporting a diplomatic, almost apologetic look. For a moment I wondered how someone with such deep brown, almost black, coloured hair could possess rainy blue eyes like those. They were piercing. They hurt. I shook my head in confusion. “I’m sorry if that was a bit too bold. Don’t worry if you’re not interested. I’ll just shut up.”

“I–” I interrupted myself gingerly because I realised I actually still didn’t know what to say at all while my tongue had acted on its own. Bummer.

Had that ever happened to me? Ever? Even with a woman? I could not recall. Sure, there was the occasional groupie here and there, making explicit offers. I knew what they all wanted, they didn’t even need to vocalise it. But this was different. He didn’t know who I was.

“Have you ever … kissed a guy?”

“Me? No!” I said, realising it had to have sounded weird in that context. I wasn’t against it. I had just never thought about it thoroughly. Why would I? Never had to. But suddenly I questioned my whole existence only by looking at that guy.

“You know that I’m technically obliged to ask: ‘then how would you know if you like it?’, right?”

“I never wanted to before, that’s been reason enough for me …”

What kind of weird ass conversation was that, anyway? With a random foreigner inside a stuck elevator, talking about homosexual tendencies out of the blue?

“I thought you wanted to shut up?”

Colin then laughed again, this time fully with his eyes closed, but his slightly open mouth only revealed his straight, white teeth. Yeah, he was kinda pretty, or interesting looking, for that matter. He had to have thousands of offers at his fingertips. That he was going for me only told me that he was insatiable or at least never satisfied and that really wasn’t a good look on him.

“You’re right, of course,” he looked at me sheepishly from under his dark eyelashes; a nonchalant smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “It was worth a shot, though.”

My heart raced for miles. I didn’t even know why. He made me so nervous … but this somewhat angsty feeling of uneasiness I’d felt before was entirely gone. Replaced. The idea of him being into me didn’t disturb me, it didn’t bother me … I didn’t know if I wanted it, but I certainly did not not want it.

I’d always said that I wasn’t gay. I was not. Surely being into a guy liking you didn’t make you full-on gay all of a sudden …

“So,” I cleared my throat uncomfortably just to say something, anything, “you’re an actor? What do you do?”

“Well, obviously, acting …” he started to explain but I could see in his face that he was about to continue; albeit currently thinking. Maybe he’d talked himself out of adding a ‘duh’ at the end of his drawn out sentence. “I wouldn’t say I’m immensely popular …but I do act in films, telly shows and in plays.”

I nodded slowly, happy about the new distraction this conversation opportunity offered, even though I wasn’t quite sure about the validity of its contents. Just the way he dragged it all out, speaking slowly so as to not accidentally say a wrong word.

“I see. How’d you get into it?”

Colin shrugged. For the first time this night I noted how the shape of his muscled chest stood out from under his subtly tight sweatshirt. He seemed lanky when you initially stood facing him. He was indeed tall, yes, but lanky? Not so much after all.

“Always been into it, really. Started off with plays in school. Turned out I wasn’t that bad at it.”

“How about acting in one of our videos then?”

Oh shit.

Oh shit. I didn’t mean to say that.

“Your … videos?”

I sighed and pressed the back of my right hand against my forehead. “You act, I sing.”

“Oh, so you’re a singer?” he laughed enthusiastically, lazily pointing a finger at me. “I knew it. You look it!”

“I thought I looked like a broker?” I amusedly chimed in, though hesitantly, and shook my head. “I’m a vocalist, yes. I’ve got a band.”

“What’re you guys called?”

Again, I shook my head no. Resisted the urge to cross my arms against my chest for special effects’ purpose. I honestly wasn’t about to tell him. “Over my dead body.”

“Don’t make me. You know you can’t run.”

This time I shrugged and I watched it rattle inside his head. Forehead all scrunched up, eyebrows raised and lips clenched. Wondering what he was about to retort, I let my foot touch his challengingly; curiously. Then he pulled out his phone and began typing.

“Masato Hayakawa you said,” he mused but when I finally realised what he was about to do, I had rushed forward impulsively but he’d already seen the Google results. Damn it. I should have known.

“Very flattering first picture,” he chuckled, I rolled my eyes, already knowing which photo he’d meant. “Coldrain, huh?”

“It’s really not that big ‘a deal,” I tried to play it down but he just looked at me with some kind of bottle-empty face that made me sure that he knew. I sighed defeated and tried to relax against the opposite wall again. At this point in time I didn’t understand why I didn’t feel comfortable in him knowing about it.

“I promise you I’ll only check out your music videos later.”

It took him a moment, but then there was this snotty smirk playing about his lips again. Then he nudged my foot for a change, pointing at his broad neck.

“I see rock stars still rock tattoos, though.”

I nodded and pushed the sleeves of my shirt upwards to reveal the coloured one on my forearm. “Seems like it.”

Somehow I liked being called like that … by him. The way he slurred his words was irrationally alluring; almost hypnotically so. But I’d somehow already grown accustomed to his thick accent.

Silence.

I saw it in his eyes, subtly trying to avoid mine, that he was still contemplating about pushing me further. Yeah, it was obvious that he seemed to be interested in me, not only because he’d basically said so himself. And he was mature enough not to start bothering me about it a second time. But as I became aware that I was playing with my fingers again, something I did when I was nervous, I realised that I actually ached for redirecting the conversation back to the beginning. To when he did not try to flirt with me. I wondered if he would have asked me for my number. I wondered if I would have moved just the tiniest bit closer to him. I wondered how he smelled at the nape of his neck …

“I honestly don’t wanna be that guy but …” He was unsure himself, I could see it. But my eyes searched his and I swear they screamed for him to finish that God damn sentence. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. You look as if–”

“Yes!”

“What?”

As I then rushed forward again, this time not to interrupt him, I saw this tiny smile of his reappear on his lips. Mere inches apart. He smelled faintly of aftershave. I swallowed nervously and still couldn’t bring myself to finally close this gap between us. One hand on the ground, one awkwardly on his shoulder. One of his playing with my hair at the back of my head beneath my black beanie. The tension was overwhelming but he obviously wanted me to make the first step. I swallowed hard.

I wanted it so much. My heart wouldn’t stop racing. I–

“Is anybody in there?” A voice at the other end of the elevator door called in Japanese. I felt my heart sink as I let myself sink to the floor simultaneously; trying to relax my beating heart.

Jesus. Did that guy bewitch me?

I looked at him with nervous eyes. Wondering eyes. Perplexed ones. At a loss for words. But he understood and slowly closed the gap between us, pecking me on the lips. Short. A second. A blink of an eye. An inhale. I had subconsciously stopped breathing.

“I’ll give you my number, okay?”

[amateurfan227]

Shitlist Reviews - Aliens - 1986

Hello Ladies and Gentlemen, I’m Amateur Fan 2.27 and welcome to the Shitlist, where bad movies (eventually) burn, seeing the arrival of Alien Covenant is literally around the corner, I thought it was about time to review the rest of the series which leads to the following sequel from the first film in 1979.

So today’s review I’ll be looking over the 1986 sequel directed by Terminator creator, James Cameron (yes I will be diving into Terminator 2 soon) Aliens, though this was probably set more on Action-Horror like Predator than it was Science-Horror such as its original film, it still holds itself as a pretty decent film at that with more Xenomorphs as well as more expansion towards the Alien franchise.

As usual we’ll dive into the production history first as which will be a lot more interesting towards both the franchise’s direction as well as the fan-base as well as direction of James Cameron’s career as a director.

David Giler declared that Brandywine Productions were immediately making a sequel to the 1979 success with full support from 20th Century Fox’s president Alan Ladd Jr though problems rose as Ladd left due to new owners Marc Rich and Marvin Davis stating that they had no interest in the sequel, claiming it would be too costly to make.

Though through a lawsuit for Alien Profits towards Fox, Giler won with ideas from executives to cross between movies like Walter Hill’s Southern Comfort and The Magnificent Seven; Whilst producer and development executive Larry Wilson looked for a writer for Alien II, Wilson came across James Cameron’s screenplay for The Terminator and passed it towards Giler feeling that Cameron was acceptable for the job.

As a fan of the first movie Cameron accepted the position and created a 45 page screen play though the movie was in hiatus as well as people disliking the pitch as it felt that the original movie didn’t have the budget to warrant a sequel.

Scheduling conflicts arose towards Arnold Schwarzenegger caused the Terminator to be delayed in 9 months which other issues arose towards that but that’s for another time, though during his time on the Terminator, Cameron wrote a 90 page script for Aliens though it wasn’t finished but Fox’s new president was heavily impressed with the Terminator being a success stating that Cameron would direct the sequel to Aliens.

Following the success of the Terminator, Cameron and producing partner Gale Anne Herd, were given approval to direct and produce the sequel with a 1986 release with Cameron having the opportunity of creating a new world which wasn’t to follow the same formula as the first movie; but it had the chance of bringing a combat style movie focusing on the terror and less more on the horror.

Sigourney Weaver (who portrayed Ripley) had major doubts in reprising her character after meeting Cameron after learning that her payment would be worth less than she originally had in the first movie, though through some negotiations with Fox, Fox signed a contract stating that Weaver would get $1 million for the role, which they agreed with.

Cameron drew inspiration for the story from the Vietnam War which had a similar situation using a technologically advanced force in a hostile environment, the attitude also works for the Space Marines as well which they were portrayed as cocky and confident towards their victories, another inspiration was Starship Troopers which involved the drop and the bug hunt.

Aliens was filmed in over 10 months on a $18 million budget at Pinewood Studios in England, Cameron (bound on a low budget and a deadline) found it difficult to work alongside the English staff whom work feature tea breaks causing production to a complete halt. Aside from being admirers of Ridley Scott, the crew mocked Cameron for his youth and his experience to direct as well as Gale Anne Hurd for her marriage to Cameron at the time.

Cameron often clashed with director of photography, Dick Bush when the schedule couldn’t be met or lighting on sets leading Bush to be fired along with the crew, fortunately replacements were found in Adrian Biddle, Some of the Alien nest scenes were shot at the abandoned Acton Lane Power Station in Acton London, leading it to be the perfect place to film for its grilled walkways as well as corridors.

The release was heavily given due to fans of the successful predecessor, Aliens was released in July 18th of 1986 in the U.S.A. and August 29th in the UK, though it opened in 1,437 theatres with an average gross of $6,995 but after a few short weeks in the box office, it reached an astonishing $183 million dollars back.

Criticism on the movie was heavily promoting the film stating that it was better than the original giving a more approaching look towards the mythology of the franchise as well as how the Alien operates towards hostiles towards their home-world.

Now seeing that this movie is set a few years after the first movie (through movie time at least), I’ve re-watched the first movie to get into the knowledge of what’s happening through the side stories when it comes to Wayland-Yutani Corporation. The things I do for you guys.

This is one movie that I’m looking forward to watching especially as it’s one of the most successful movies of 1986. So without a doubt, let’s dive into the movie and see if it’s worth hating or loving.

This is Aliens.

 The movie begins in Space as we see the space ship released from the Nostromo has been captured by Wayland-Yutani scientists to recover the damage that was given prior the first movie, but with a turn of events, the passenger inside (Ellen Ripley) has been placed into a deep hyper-sleep through the years of being stranded in space with the Nostromo’s cat Jonesy.

After being awoken by in a hospital bed on the nearby space ship known as Gateway Station by Wayland Yutani Corporation, Ripley is greeted by the cat from the first movie as well as Executive Carter Burke (Paul Reiser) whom seems friendly at first though Ripley has questions over her Hyper-sleep, only to find out that she’s been in sleeping for over 50 years.

This causes her to panic and have a heart attack of sorts only to reveal that she is in fact infected with a xenomorph which prepares to jump out of her stomach, this turns out to be one of her reoccurring nightmares however. Good starting point but a bit of a useless effect to spook the audience if you ask me.

A few days later as Carter prepares for a hearing that Wayland-Yutani have organised to talk about the incident over USCSS Nostromo, but Ripley has other ideas concerning her Daughter in the moment leading him to inform her that she is has died 2 years before her awakening, which surprisingly looks like Sigourney Weaver now... no offence Ms Weaver.

At the hearing, the Chairmen confirm that some of the incidents at the Nostromo were officially confirmed such as landing at the planet LV-426 for unknown reasons aside from leaving on the right course as well as being set on self-destruct by Ripley though Ripley intervenes that it was the life-form which they refuse to believe.

This raises a bunch of questions such as looking at the mother-drive that was loosely connected to the main ship from Nostromo which would give a lot more detail into why they landed, or maybe referencing a distress beacon given off at the same location or more possibly looking over the programming that was in Ash’s Circuits... just pointing that out is all.

One of the chairmen request whether there was life found on LV-426 leading to a female member to state that is was just a rock leading to no indigenous life, which raises the question of a HUGE FREAKING SHIP IN ONE OF THE MOUNTAINS... or possibly is that they probably didn’t have the attention on looking to begin which.

This raises another question that if they did manage to find the spacecraft then surely they would look under the origins of the space-craft or the xenomorph to begin with... ah that’s when Prometheus comes to play... smart move there Ridley.... smart move.

Ripley refuses to believe that they will close the case over her mental health leading them to remove her flying licence as well as giving her psychological health evaluations. Ripley then requests on searching the planetoid again in search for the eggs though is put down when the main Chairmen Van Leuwen states that human has started living there for 20 years only to find nothing aside from terraforming the planet to a breathable atmosphere.

This is gonna bite you back in the ass if something major happens at that Colony (which is known as Hadley’s Hope) isn’t is Van... and guess what happens, a family at LV426 arrive at the spaceship from the first movie, only to be attacked by the face-huggers leading to a single surviving child.... told you about them not looking hard enough...

At Gateway Station however Ripley is met by Burke only for him to give her valuable information on the Colony having trouble with communications, leading him to request her for advice, they also state that they will send marines to search the Colony for survivors in case something major comes around.

Though Ripley refuses to give them advice but through some persuasion Carter manages to get her licence reinstated, let me just inform you that she only defeated the first Xenomorph through LUCK that doesn’t make her a freaking expert on killing them. After some nightmares, Ripley reluctantly agrees with Burke’s idea only for her idea to destroy them and not to research them.

This attention is given to the Marines Spaceship known as the USS Sulaco where we first meet the Colonial Marines, Corporal Dwayne Hicks (played by Terminator star Michael Biehn), Private Hudson (played by the late great Bill Paxton) Private Vasquez (played by Jenette Goldstein), Sergeant Apone (played by Al Matthews), Executive Officer Bishop (played by legendary Lance Henriksen).

Commanding Officer Lieutenant Gorman (played by William Hope), Privates Drake, Frost, Spunkmeyer, Crowe and Wierzbowski (played by Mark Rolston, Ricco Ross, Daniel Kash, Tip Tipping and Trevor Steedman), Corporals Ferro and Dietrich (played by Colette Hiller and Cynthia Dale Scott... Christ that’s a lotta people.

After being introduced to the Marines, Bishop is heavily requested by the marines to play five finger fillet with a knife by Hudson leading him to place his hands on Hudson to do the task... I’d like to mention that that was not relating to the script or the movie, it was just placed in the movie via a skill that was incredibly well done.

Anyway this reveals Bishop to be a synthetic also known as an Android to you Alien fans out there, leading to Ripley’s instant distrust when he states that Ash was an older model due to the glitches in his system. Shortly after breakfast, the team are briefed about what the threat is leading to some iconic scenes from the movie especially the ‘chicken shit outfit line’.

We also get a chance to see the outlook of the space dock as well as the infamous cargo-loader as the Marines prepare for their descent into LV-426.I have to admit one thing, they look freaking awesome with the pulse rifles as well as the looks of the armour, very science fiction looking.

They arrive at the Colony only to find that no-one is around, but the power is still online, as they enter the main complex of the building the interior design has clearly been destroyed with wires hanging from the corridor ceilings, I have to admit, this is a pretty good atmosphere for an Alien movie.

They set their motion sensors only to find nothing aside from structural damage from the inside, though with Hudson a life form is seen moving, only to find out that is was in fact a gerbil, the building looks mainly secure as the Marines have searched through the majority of the complex leading Ripley, Burke, Bishop and Gorman to gain entry to search the CPU units to find information.

They search through a med-lab and manage to come across Facehuggers trapped in vials only to find that 2 are still left alive, though they manage to find some information on the Facehuggers, movement is found nearby only to be revealed to be a survivor, a young girl named Newt; whom quickly runs from them only for Ripley to use her mother’s intuition to calm her down.

Fortunately Newt manages to talk as Bishop does some research on the dead Facehuggers leading to Hudson to find the colonists through the main CPU, good news is that he’s found all of them but the bad news is that they are all together; the marines manage to track them down leading to a cooling tunnel of the main colony.

They enter the cooling tunnels only for interference to hit their cameras leading them to enter the Alien Hive which is looks pretty awesome with the setting and all... kudos to the set designers, Ripley finds a problem stating that if their weaponry is involving explosives, they would cause a rupture in the cooling system leading the station to be a fusion reactor.

On the Brightside they manage to find the remaining colonists, the bad news they are all dead from the Xenomorphs, to make matters worse, movements are still detected on the motion trackers leading them to come closer and closer to the Marines, this causes the Xenomorphs to attack leading to a bloodbath.

This leads Ripley to drive the military tank to the Marines location causing damage to the Hive causing what’s left of the soldiers to fall in, and to leave the facility. As they pull up in the wastelands of LV-426 they have a talk on what’s going to happen leading options whether to leave the planet or to return to exterminate them.

Burke on the other hand has other ideas on using them for funding as well as stating that he hasn’t got the authority to perform extinction on the Xenomorphs, the survivors, Hicks, Hudson and Vasquez are in shock of what’s to happen and even though the task is under MILITARY JURISIDICTION, Hicks is placed to the task on returning to the ship and nuking the planet from orbit.

This leads to another surprises as the Xenomorphs have entered the space-ship that sent them only for them to be attacked causing the ship to crash...err plot twist? Anyway with no escape from the planet, they rejoin Bishop in the main complex leading for them to prepare to defend themselves, but another problem arises however as it would take nearly 3 weeks for rescue to find them.

They manage to prepare themselves for one night after going blueprints of the main complex, during their preparation, Hicks gives Ripley a locator in-case she gets into trouble or lost, I can see the positives in that but I can see more negatives, such as what happens if it doesn’t work? Ripley takes Newt into bed to make sure she’s secure and also gives her the locator that Hicks gave her for safety.

Shortly after discussing over how the Xenomorphs operate, they discuss on how they were originally produced believing that they are in fact formed from eggs believing that there might be a larger Xenomorph or an Alien Queen, this raises a bunch of questions on how the Queen can perform on a hive mind level but that’s gonna raise a bunch more questions on Nature itself and as Jurassic Park has told all of us, Nature finds a way...

Though something comes up when Bishop refuses Ripley’s request to destroy the Facehuggers as Burke wants them alive, Burke wants to use them for profit (as all corporations do, here’s looking at you Umbrella) which raises the most ridiculous question I’ve heard when Ripley mentions to getting it past quarantine, How are they going to Impound it if they don’t know about it?.... Ladies and gentlemen please slap your forehead with the palm your hand in confusion on how stupid that question is.

Hell I’m not even going to answer that bloody question due to his incompetence, the best thing about it is that Ripley has way more dirt on him as he does on her as She looked into the history of the colony and discovering that all the colony missions towards the space ship were organised by Burke himself.

After a brief argument, the Xenomorphs begin their attack leading the sentry turrets in the tunnels to begin their thing leading multiple dead monsters by their doorstep, another problem arises as the crash from the cooling tunnels as damaged the ventilation system which could lead to a nuclear bomb on their hands.

Though a solution is at hand though as the colony transmitters for communications can be repaired manually which Bishop volunteers for, the team however manage to return to see the Turrets returning fire against them leading to the Aliens to run in defeat. Hudson and Vasquez are given the perimeter walk as Hicks trains Ripley with the Pulse Rifle; I have to admit this is the turning point towards her character making her the first female action hero.

In the meantime, Bishop manages to fix the transmitter for the Colony and requested an immediate ship for support as Gorman awakens from a concussion, leading Ripley to leave him for some sleep in the Med-Lab only to discover that Burke has locked her in with the living Facehuggers, as well as sabotaging the camera in the Med-lab.

Ripley does manage to get their attention by setting the fire alarm causing Hicks, and the marines to intervene killing them instantly causing the whole team (aside from Bishop obviously) to interrogate him, via the interrogation the Aliens cut the power and prepare to attack in full force via the ceiling vents.

Burke manages to slip away through the fight only to get himself killed in the process, this also leads to Hudson’s death as well which is more harsh than I can think of, during the fight, Ripley and the remaining escape through the vents which leads to Vasquez and Gorman to pass as well, Newt gets Separated from leading to one of the Xenomorphs to grab her in a sewage system.

Now both alone, Hicks and Ripley escape the facility with some casualties leading for the secondary Drop-ship to pick them up thanks to Bishop’s help, they enter the drop-ship and Ripley prepares for a suicide mission to fly back into the fusion reactor in hope to find Newt, she arms herself with a pulse rifle as well as a flame-thrower, she manages to enter the Alien Hive, torching the place as she looks for Newt, only to save her before a Facehugger performs the procedure.

Though something big stands in her way as Ripley looks for an exit, The Alien Queen, I have to admit the designers for her made a very good job especially making her way bigger than all the others, Ripley decides it’s a bright idea to start setting the eggs on fire as well killing the Xenomorphs that stand in her way, pissing of the Queen.

Ripley does escape with the Queen in hot pursuit following her in the elevator which raises how the Queen has human intellect but that’s for another day leading Ripley to await for Bishop to fly them out of the Fusion Reactor before it destroys the Colony, believing that they have fled the queen along with it.

At the Sulaco, they dock the ship believing the nightmare is officially over only for it to return as the Queen somehow managed to stay with them by holding onto the Ships landing gear. Leading to Bishop’s demise, Christ Henriksen, first the Terminator now this? What next becoming a demon in the form of a pumpkin? Well technically Bishop is still active aside from being literally torn in half.

Ripley orders Newt to hide so she can prepare for one final battle, she uses one of the Cargo Loaders and says the classic line ‘get away from her, you bitch’ and prepares a fight, she forces it towards the Airlock and traps it with the Cargo Holder (or as I call it the Loader Bot (sorry Borderlands) leading her to force it out into space, killing the Queen once and for all.

Ripley places the rest of the surviving crew into the Hyper-sleep chambers and prepares for another long sleep knowing that the Nightmare is officially over.... that’s until I review Alien 3 at least.

And that was Aliens

Possibly still one of the best Action movies by far relating to a horror franchise, granted it had more iconic scenes from the first movie but the story is still there when it comes to action/horror, especially with corny one-liners as well as signature scenes that no-one will forget.

The acting though is something I need to address first, the main villainous route is just bizarre as well when it comes over to Carter Burke, I mean come on everyone knew he was going to be the obvious bad guy towards it, you could practically smell the smugness of him.

Though the character development in Ripley was something I was fond of, especially as she grew more of a survivor as well as an Alien Killer, I have to admit one thing that James Cameron can do is making weak characters to stronger personalities such as Sarah Connor in the Terminator series (not Lena Headey nor Emilia Clarke for that matter as they are non cannon).

The movie though is something I must address first, mainly towards the logic in following the previous movie towards this one, I admire the ideas towards changing the setting to a more open area but there wasn’t enough moments of science fiction which was relating towards the action, after all the movie is set in the future.

The logic towards Wayland-Yutani’s plans for the Xenomorphs make no sense as well, such as if they have managed to find the ship were the Alien came from or possibly knew of the Aliens existing then why don’t they do something simple such as send some scientists to discover it rather than a mining colony.

Granted the terraforming idea was cool but that was only mentioned which raises more questions than answers on how exactly did they make the atmosphere breathable in the span of 57 years or how did they manage to find natural energy to supply them with food rations or water or another question how did they manage to find energy to create the Fusion Reactor?

Aside from the logic the movie is possibly a step down its direction from the points I made out during the review, the main problem I can think of is the consistency between the characters as the Marines are supposed to be hardened bad-asses only to find out that they are cowards (Hudson for example).

Aside from the negatives the positives easily overpower it, such as the design for the sets which were exceeding the original designs, as well as the Alien Queen included, though there were some things I would change about the Queen’s official design on reveal, it’s still an impressive idea nevertheless.

The score is mostly forgettable as I was more focused on the action as well as the visionary direction Cameron took on, which he’s known for (well done Cameron).

The official rating for this movie would be Hitlist due to the set design and the action sequences, though if it wasn’t for the action then I would have serious doubts on my final judgement, this movie is possibly one of the best all round, I highly recommend it.

I’m Amateur Fan 2.27 and join me next time as I dive into the sequel to well... the sequel.... I’ll see you guys later.