#and then xiv literally saved me. i mean that genuinely. for a while when i was especially unstable it was what kept me holding on to life.

[astrxealis]

did you know i love final fantasy so goddamn much (specifically xiv, xv, and xvi rn)

[system-of-a-feather]

Ignoring the discourse, I just wanted to ramble on parts language and our feelings to it as someone who mainly uses it - but honestly "parts" is our preferred term by a long way save for alter when we are talking about things in a more clinical sense.

Personally for us, headmate, sysmate, and similar "roommate" kind of terms actually feel diminishing to the dynamic we have with one another. Headmate and similar terms draw parallels to roommates housemates, aka someone you share a space with - and I totally understand the draw to those terms for those that like to emphasize the individuality of the parts, but personally to call our relationship to one another something similar to people who just share a body / brain / mind / system etc really feels a bit... downplaying the importance we have to one another and the unique dynamic that comes from being parts of a whole.

XIV, Ray, Lucille, Aderis, all the parts in our system feel far more intimate, personal, and tighter bonds than anything like a housemate or a roommate or "someone I am sharing X with" could possibly reach. By nature we all compliment each other and were literally created to support, bolster, accentuate, and cover for one another.

/Separate people in different bodies are not so genuinely and thoroughly made to exist in synergy with one another the same way alters and parts are. Separate people in different bodies, no matter how close and how far back they go, are never going to be as deeply tied with one another the same way parts are / can be - and if they DO - 9/10 times it is likely super codependent and unhealthy where as with alters that tends to be an ideal.

Of course this depends on how you define "separate people" and all so its not a "well I am RIGHT" cause its how we perceive things and the main point in our perception is that to draw parallels to existences of two 'separate people' sharing a space together honestly just... extremely downplays how intrinsically made for one another we are. My relationship with my parts goes deeper than any two people who share a space could ever go because we were literally MADE for one another. It's impossible to compliment me and support me more than the parts in my system because they ARE LITERALLY my other halves.

So headmate and sysmate just.... always feel really downplaying to what we are.

Alters we are okay and chill with, but it honestly feels both sensationalized and very.... artificial for a lack of better words. Using the word "alter" tends to draw my mind to the more fictional media depictions OR solely to minimizing parts to the clinical expression to which it feels a bit dehumanizing - so unless its for convenient shared language or for clinical / just factual references - we tend to prefer parts.

Parts on the other hand really acknowledges just how intrinsically connected and made for one another we are. We really don't think it diminishes our individuality at all (though that might just be because we are decently far in our healing journey that we can simultaneously hold the idea of 'we are parts of a whole' and 'we are valid as individuals with our experiences and can exist and acknowledge ourselves and one another like individuals' very easily together at the same time) or imply anything about us being broken or shattered or anything.

If anything, parts language reminds me that there IS others out there that are there to fill in the gaps in life that I can't do. It reminds me that I am not in this alone and that I'm not SUPPOSED to be in this alone. I am a whole person, but I am not the whole picture and I don't have to try to be the whole picture because one puzzle piece while beautiful on its own - often works many times better when connected with the others.

I dunno, parts language is just a really really positive and healing thing for us. We love it and while we understand it not being for everyone, it means A LOT to us and really nothing negative.

My parts are made FOR me just as I am made FOR my parts. We are literally MADE for one another because we are PARTS of a whole that are MEANT to work with one another and I think that is really beautiful honestly.

[sleepymarmot]

The Green Knight

I have once again committed the grave sin of reading something just to watch an adaptation immediately afterwards

...and unfortunately, it resulted in me not liking the adaptation very much and now I can’t tell whether it is because of its own merits or simply by comparison.

Why did a 2021 film have worse pacing than a XIV century poem? The poem’s plot had me genuinely engaged even when impatient; I can’t count how many times I glanced on my phone or hit pause while watching the film. But I can appreciate that the film had a twist/fakeout ending of its own which also caught me off guard.

I recognized Alicia Vikander as Essel but not as the Lady, I thought it was a different actresss lmao. And then wondered which of them was playing the wife in the vision and apparently it was someone else...

The old woman in the castle was not played by the same actress as Gawain’s mother, though, but it was supposed to be some kind of representation of her, right? Like a vessel or a spirit? Since in the poem that was Morgan but in the film she’s in Camelot and Gawain is her son and she’s uhh arranging a test for him so he can mature before he inherits the crown I guess. And also that’d explain how the sash turned up in the castle in the film version. 

I’m kind of disappointed that the encounter with the Lady manages to be less sexy than the poem version where she literally goes “I’m trapping you in your bed :)” and he tries to play it cool and the UST goes on for three separate long scenes. But no, let’s disgust and/or scandalize viewers with onscreen bodily fluids instead 🙄

Speaking of that: I wasn’t impressed with moments of vulgarity that seemed to exist only to make the film edgier. On the other hand, I don’t think the Lady kissed Gawain; if you got the R rating, then use it and give that guy a handjob right in the forest, don’t be shy! Again, the XXI century work is somehow less gay than the XIV century one where Gawain kisses his host six times in total, and on the third day it’s three times in a row and so passionate that the recipient remarks on it. Meanwhile, even the one kiss remaining in the 2021 version is unwanted and predatory. Representation...

It’s a shame that what I found most striking about the poem, the structure and the true nature of the challenge, became muddled in the film. “You thought it was a weirdly long distraction? It was the real challenge all along” and “A hero’s ability to withstand a fantastical danger is a metaphor for being an exemplary member of society” are, IMO, not at all outdated (but maybe these are the default in this kind of literature and I’m just uninformed). I don’t think the film even explains what’s actually going on — how does a viewer unfamiliar with the original story interpret the ending? Also why does this film hate bright colors :( I thought we were past the “everything was brown dirty and grim in the Middle Ages” stage? Why make a long speech about what the color green represents, it’s a film, you can show me!

One thing I caught while writing this post: Gawain isn’t actually a knight during the movie, right? We see him knighted in the bad end flash-forward. Which means he didn’t lie to the bandits! I thought this was another of his failures — denying he’s a knight out of cowardice...

Another note connected to it: I don’t buy that “Why would you ask me that? Why would you ever ask me that?” is a criticism/deconstruction of chivalry because Gawain isn’t acting like a knight! And if the previous paragraph is correct, he isn’t one at all! This might be a criticism of his personal assholery, male entitlement maybe, but not the role Gawain is meant to play — I can’t imagine the ideal he’s supposed to live up to, the virtuous and courteous poem!Gawain, asking for a reward upfront.

I did like the headless girl (an actual saint, as I just learned), the giants and the “photograph”. (The commentary for the poem said it was being subversive by not detailing Gawain’s adventures, so it’s funny the film put them “back” in.)  I enjoyed the final confrontation. As much as I wish I could see the gorgeous green-and-gold outfit I love the fantastical tree look too; I don’t mind that the Green Knight and the Lord are two different characters and I understand why the three days of hunting and seduction had to be condensed into one. And I did find it clever that Gawain has a vision of dying miserably when he’s in despair and that prompts him to act twice, not only in the Green Chapel but when he’s tied up in the forest, another green chapel (only figured this out after the movie ended). So I’m not just complaining because an adaptation changed something — something I just encountered. But, well, it’s a very slow film with a protagonist who goes past “yes I know he’s supposed to be a failure, that’s what his character development is about” into the “actively unlikeable” territory, and also has the same expression for half of the movie. So, as a person who knows nothing about arthuriana beyond this poem I just read, I don’t feel competent to give a verdict more objective than this: an artsy film didn’t entertain me as much I expected to.

(Side note: As I was watching, “To the Headless Horseman” was somewhere in the back of my mind, and now that I saw someone else mention it too, I realize how well the lyrics fit, especially with the poem version. “God keep the bounty hunter who shows mercy to his prey”... “And as you approached, I could sense the threat, but a stranger’s just a friend who hasn’t shared their secrets yet”...)

(Side note 2: I like how the poem presents an etiquette puzzle. The fact that Gawain was trying to save his life was immediately forgiven; in fact, the initial terms never specified he would have to die to the Green Knight’s blow, only “accept” it. He got a cut on his neck not for cowardice, but for dishonesty on the third day, i. e. keeping the gifted sash a secret. But if he kept the promise made to the husband, he would have broken the promise of silence made to the wife. Which means that the correct choice would be not to accept the sash in the first place, which, coincidentally, is the choice that requires him to bravely accept his fate.)

[erinpagewrites]

5 Shows to Watch Now That REIGN Is Over

After four seasons and 78 episodes (!), our favorite, semi-historical, semi-fantasy teen drama has come to an end. The last Urban Outfitters dress has twirled out of the ballroom; the last Lumineers song has played us off; and the last prophecy of Nostradamus has come to fruition. Did those things have anything to do with the real life of real person Mary, Queen of Scots and Notable Badass? Oh hell no, but that didn’t stop me from loving this show.

For me, it was love at first sight with some of the bananas storylines and details:

Why doesn’t anyone in France find Queen Catherine as hilarious as we do?

How many games of Hide & Seek can these grown-ass adults play per season?

Is the ghost that lives in the palace walls there to help Mary or hurt Mary, and hey it’s not a ghost it’s been a lovechild this whole time?

But my love for this show grew along with the tangle of plotlines, and over the last few years I developed a genuine affection for Reign. I’ve spent a good number of Friday nights watching and livetweeting and yelling at the screen when yet another episode has gone by without Mary getting a happy storyline, or without enough Catherine one-liners, or when they’ve killed off characters I’ve come to care for.

So where do we go from here? Where can we get that rare mix of adventure, romance, pseudo-history, and most importantly high-stakes costume drama? I’ve assembled a list of shows to help fill the void, where to watch them, and a semi-biased guide to appeal-level of each one.

(I tried to find as many pictures for these shows of the cast in the same dark, broody pose. This is the kind of detail I muster just for you guys.)

1.       VERSAILLES

What It Is: A series following Louis XIV, and how one prince turned an obscure hunting lodge into the premier palace of Europe. As you can imagine, this show is less about the price of timber and gilded mirrors and more about the courtly intrigue of early Rococo France.

Where To Watch: Versailles premiered on Ovation tv, but has since been available for streaming on Amazon Prime and Netflix. Seasons One and Two have aired, with a third season in production.

Will I Like It? If you loved the courtly intrigue best in Reign, then this is the show for you. It’s basically the late sequel to Reign, in terms of time period. A lot of the cast is also fairly young and pretty, and the set design, costumes, and sweeping scenery gives you a lot to feast your eyes. It is definitely, ahem, a show for grownups in terms of graphic content, but probably nothing you haven’t seen before on a BBC show.

2.       MEDICI: MASTERS OF FLORENCE

What It Is: A series following Cosimo de Medici, running his family bank and investigating the murder of his father at the height of Medici family power. Heavy on the murder investigation, family drama, and political upheaval, and light on the banking systems of Renaissance Italy.

Where To Watch: Netflix. Season One was uploaded in late 2016, and a Season Two has been discussed.

Will I Like It? This is the series for you if you wished we could have seen more of what Queen Catherine’s relatives and enemies were up to over in Italy. Also for the Rob Stark fans. Again, this show is heavier in graphic content than Reign.

3.       THE WHITE QUEEN / WHITE PRINCESS

What It Is: Two seasons covering two stories in Philippa Gregory’s The Cousins War book series. Season One is the story of Elizabeth Woodville, York Queen and mother of the infamous “Princes in the Tower” allegedly murdered by Richard III. Gregory’s books and the tv show focus through the female perspective on the Wars of the Roses in fifteenth century England.

Where To Watch: Originally on Starz, The White Princess just recently broadcast its final episode. The White Queen is available to stream on Amazon Prime, and I imagine that The White Princess will not be far behind. I was unable to find information on a third season, but as Gregory has several books that continue the warring family saga, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was renewed.

Will I Like It? To be completely honest, this is my favorite of the shows I’ve included in this list. I’ve been a Philippa Gregory fan ever since I was in high school and first fell in love with The Other Boleyn Girl. Her stories bring a lot of family lineage, political minutiae, and land-grabbing to life. The White Queen and The White Princess have been critically acclaimed as a “feminist response” to Game of Thrones, which… while they certainly offer a nuanced perspective and, in Season Two, a noted female gaze, they’re not a “response” if the books were written before Game of Thrones ever aired. Just nitpicking on the critics not checking publication dates! Because it’s a terrific show, and if you love the strong female characters of Reign, then you’ll love these real women of English history. This brings me, of course, to the show I almost need not list based on the fact that you’ve definitely heard of—and probably seen it-- already…

4.       GAME OF THRONES

What It Is: Warring families compete for The Iron Throne in the fantasy world of Westoros, while dark supernatural forces loom on the horizon to threaten life as they know it. Inspired by the A Song of Ice and Fire book series, author George R. R. Martin has stated in numerous interviews the significant influence of the Wars of the Roses, the work of J. R. R. Tolkien, and other classic “sword and sorcery” novels on his high fantasy books.

Where To Watch: Originally on HBO, but literally anywhere, as it’s the most pirated show in tv history. Available to stream in its entirety on HBOGo. Gearing up to debut its seventh (and penultimate) season next month.

Will I Like It? If you were into some of the magical and supernatural storylines from Reign, and can stomach some pretty intense violence, graphic adult scenes, people being mean to each other, and unending side characters and plots, then you’ll love it. I’ve loved this show, too. I don’t love it all of the time, but it’s hard to beat the dream casting, shocking moments, and truly gorgeous production quality.

5.       POLDARK

What It Is: A young lord returns from fighting the rebels in America to his failing estate in Cornwall. Ross Poldark must save his mine, his tenants, and struggle to win love in eighteenth century Britain.

Where To Watch: Originally aired (in the US) on PBS, now available for streaming on Amazon Prime. Currently airing its third season.

Will I Like It? If you like the family drama and romance parts of Reign, then you’ll like Poldark. Also, if you’ve been a fan of The Forsyte Saga or Downton Abbey, then this is really the best show in this list for you… The balance of heartwarming and backstabbing moments between characters is exquisite, and the period details and beautiful seaside Cornwall are massively appealing. Also Aidan Turner has been mentioned as a potential future James Bond, so... do with that what you will.

BONUS!       ROAR

What It Is: A series following a young Celtic warrior prince who is determined to protect his land from the invading Romans. To do that, he must gain the trust and respect of the Celtic tribes and find a way to overcome his adversary’s mysterious power in early Middle Ages-Britain.

Where To Watch: Apparently it originally aired on Fox, but I remember it from childhood in syndication on the SciFi (now SyFy, and no, I’m not afraid to date myself) Channel. It doesn’t look like it’s currently available to stream anywhere, but you can get the complete single season of 13 eps on DVD for a (shockingly high) $25 USD on Amazon.

Will I Like It?  Roar is the *tamest* of all of the shows in this list in terms of graphic content since it originally aired on Broadcast television many years ago, so if you need a break from GoT you can check out Roar. But I made this one a Bonus! entry on the list because it’s difficult to find and (again, just being *honest*) of spotty quality. They were banking on the then-recent success of the Hercules and Xena shows, but I think that the seriousness of the Roar storylines and the confusing timeline of the show were its ultimate downfall. Nevertheless, I couldn’t *not* include it because I have truly enjoyed several watch-throughs of Roar myself. Hey, I’m an anglo (er, celto)-phile myself, I was bound to find something in it to love. Do you want to see bb Heath Ledger and bb Vera Farmiga? Of course you do! The charismatic actors are the best part of this series… and hey, if the dubious historicism, fantastical magic, and occasional camp appeal to you from Reign, then you’ll find a worthy stand-in in Roar. 

[dawnstruck]

dust and devils on my conscience

FMA RoyEd Pacific Rim 'verse. Non-linear story telling. [Read on AO3]

Mankind, like cockroaches, are tenacious little beasts.

i.

A kaiju is a fearsome thing. Vast and vicious and near-on invincible.

But mankind, like cockroaches, are tenacious little beasts.

They thrive, they survive. Even if many of them die. Even if Death, for some, is a promise.

xviii.

The first tentative step a Jaeger takes is always the most exhilarating. Like a roller-coaster ride, only that you are the loop, the sky, and gravity all at once.

Roy used to love this. He thinks he might be able to love it again.

The water crashes around them and then they move forward.

v.

Two truths. Roy wasn't in love with Maes and Maes wasn't in love with Roy.

That doesn't mean it hurts any less.

xiv.

“Revenge?!” Edward snaps. His metal fist beats against the metal wall to his right, just once, but it seems to set the entire room and everything in it ringing. “You honestly think this is about revenge for me?!”

The gleam in his eyes is furious. Roy does not flinch. He has faced down monsters. A mere boy does not intimidate him.

“Al and I have saved millions of lives,” Ed continues, “We've gone out there again and again, just like you and Hughes have, and you dare belittle me by simply calling it revenge?!”

It would be easy to make a quip about Edward's height then, but his rage is a curious thing. It makes him appear larger than he is and yet there is still so much of a child in him.

“If anything,” Ed adds and his voice is merely a whisper now, like the aftershocks of an earthquake, “You should get some revenge yourself.”

vi.

It's a strange feeling, to mesh your mind with someone so intricately and then have it ripped away within what is little more than an exhale. It's hurts and then it heals and then there is still that frayed edge, forever there at the seams of your conscience.

Roy resists the urge to pluck at the lose ends so he doesn't come undone.

xv.

“Sir,” Riza says, “Permission to speak openly?”

“Permission granted, Lieutenant,” Roy says, tiredly.

“Brigadier General Hughes enlisted to protect his family,” she says. She does not pull her punches, but she gives him a moment's notice to brace himself. “You owe it to him to continue doing so.”

Roy knocks back the whiskey and tries to drown the truth. But, like his nightmares, it swims.

viii.

The Elric brothers are the golden boys of the Jaeger program. They are young, handsome, congenial. Their sob story appeals to the public, both of them orphaned when a kaiju attack laid wreckage to the Australian coast line.

Their accents are as broad as their smiles and, all over the world, boys and girls alike collect posters and action figures of them.

Their Jaeger goes down somewhere close to Kyushu and, though official sources report them to be alive and stable, they do not appear in any morning shows for quite a while to come.

vii.

Riza outmatches him in the compatibility test. It's no surprise, really, but Roy cannot find it in himself to be disappointed. He's not sure he wants to let anyone into his head anyway.

It doesn't work with Jean or Heymans either. General Grumman pinches the tips of his mustache but does not concede defeat. He keeps sending other candidates at Roy, new recruits and seasoned pilots, but none of them are Maes, so it doesn't matter anyway.

iv.

Originally, they enlisted because it was the right thing to do and they took the test because they were curious. They hadn't known each other for long, barely enough to really call each other friends instead of comrades, so no one expected them to be drift compatible.

Their Jaeger is called Pyro Polaroid, a beautiful shiny thing, all gold and navy blue. Maes makes a fuzz after every battle, lamenting the scratches in the paint job as one would with a beloved old-timer.

Later, in his more macabre moments Roy thinks that maybe it was a good thing that Maes died because at least this way he didn't have to witness how Roy quite literally single-mindedly dragged Pyro Polaroid back to the shore and let her collapse against the cliffs. He didn't have to see her be decommissioned and ransacked for spare parts. He didn't have to watch Roy break just as efficiently.

ix.

The rumor reaches Roy when its subjects are already there. Then again, it's kind of hard to miss a giant Jaeger being flown into the base.

Roy doesn't have to guess who it is. The flaming red paint and black markings are enough of a giveaway.

Fullmetal Alchemist, despite the extensive damage she must have sustained, was a younger model and had thus been deemed worthy of repair. Similar things can be said for her pilots.

Alphonse Elric is being carted around the uneven floors of the base in a wheelchair, but his handshake is strong and his smile genuine.

“Looking forward to working with you,” he tells Roy as though it weren't unlikely that he'd ever walk again.

“Where on earth has Ed gone?” a young woman behind Al huffs. She has her hands on her hips and grease smears all over. She must be one of Fullmetal Alchemist's engineers.

“Probably making sure his baby is parked correctly,” Al replies, rolling his eyes. To Roy he says, “He's very particular about who gets to touch her.”

Who's going to co-pilot her then, Roy wants to ask but doesn't because the answer sure as hell is not Alphonse.

xi.

Edward fights as though he were participating in an illegal street fight, not looking for a drift partner. He's got his opponents on their backs in a matter of seconds and impatiently taps his bo staff against the floor mats as he waits for his next challenger.

“Come on,” he drawls. His skin glistens with sweat underneath his black tank top but morphs into scar tissue on his right shoulder. Somewhere in the crowd someone mutters how the automail gives him an unfair advantage. But drift compatibility is not about brute strength. It's about chess.

“Was that really it?” Ed asks now. His face is turned toward Grumman but his eyes are on Riza and her neat clipboard. She hesitates.

“There is one,” she says and when her gaze cuts over to Roy, Ed follows.

xxv.

The sunrise is made of seven colors, dyeing the sea and the sky. But the sun, the sun itself is bold and golden and almost bright enough to hurt Roy's eyes.

He does not look away.

xix.

They lose Arctic Briggs in the waves and Greed is rendered useless when Lan Fan is injured.

Ling gets her out, barely, and she survives, barely. Her remaining hand is red with her own blood as she clutches at Doctor Rockbell's bony wrist.

“Automail,” she grits out through the pain, “I can still fight. Give me automail.”

It took three years to get used to automail, one if you were as determined as Edward, but everyone knows that they only have days.

And yet, amid all the chaos and the destruction, it's easy to read Lan Fan's stubborn spite as hope.

“All right,” Doctor Rockbell says and gives a tight nod.

“Set the clock to zero,” Grumman orders and the bleak metal walls of the Shatterdome reflect his words like a mockingbird's song.

xxi.

Ed kisses like their staff fight might make one expect him to. Looking for openings, for weak spots, just this side of dirty. Roy matches him, kiss for kiss, and this is like their fight, too, this feeling of being alive, of being equal, of being in the right place at the right time.

xii.

Izumi Curtis coughs red blood into white handkerchiefs and observes Roy with narrow eyes.

Like him, she had once managed to pilot a Jaeger on her own. Unlike him, she had ended up with physical ruin instead of mental one.

“I found the boys in the rubble, hidden under the corpse of their mother,” she tells Roy what he has already heard on various radio shows, “I saw them grow old enough to enlist and I saw them nearly die at Kyushu. At some point you have to learn how to prioritize the world before your own fear.”

“I'm not afraid,” he says.

“Not of the kaiju,” she agrees.

xiii.

Roy tells himself he is merely embarrassed when he goes down the rabbit hole. He blames it on being unfamiliar with Fullmetal Alchemist and with how long it's been that he's been inside of a Jaeger at all.

He manages to jerk himself free, vaguely aware of the frantic voices breaking through his headset, only Riza's calm and reasonable. He does not look to his left to see Edward's face. He does not want his pity or his scorn. He does not want to think about how that boy has been inside of his head.

“I'm done here,” Roy croaks and runs away once more.

ii.

Roy flirts with show hosts, takes selfies with fans and ruffles little children's hair. He gives autographs and press conferences, wears tailored suits and debonair smiles. He's the bachelor, the playboy, the unattainable dream. Maes is the opposite, the family man, the goofball, the nerd, who makes dad jokes and shows off pictures of his family and his stamp collection.

They work well together, maintaining the perfect equilibrium of what the public wants to see. Dashing heroes, guys next door.

Maes does not talk about how Gracia silently cries whenever she has to watch him leave. Roy does not admit that maybe sometimes he drinks a little too much whiskey to forget the last trampled city and the corpses that came with it.

Instead, they are invited to dinner parties at the White House and appear on a sports car commercial. They are living the life, only that there is a lot of death involved, too.

xxii.

“We will pilot Greed,” Izumi announces. Sig is a mountain beside her, steady and silent.

“What?” Alphonse bursts out, “But you can't! Pinako said if you ever step foot into a Jaeger again, it's gonna kill you.”

Izumi smiles, fondly.

“Look around, kid,” she says, indicating the listless disarray of the Shatterdome, “If I don't do this, we are all going to die anyway.”

She looks over to Ed, catches his eye. His teeth are clenched and his arms crossed, but he holds her gaze. Then he gives a nod.

“Brother!” Alphonse protests. He looks very pale in the lights of his lab and it makes the red veins in his eyes even more glaring, “You can't-”

He breaks off, doesn't finish. It's the moment in which he realizes that he is not only going to lose his mentor but his brother, too.

“Oh,” he says, his voice tight with tears. But he must know that, one way or another, this was always going to happen.

x.

“Don't,” Doctor Rockbell says evenly, never even looking up from her newspaper. Smoking is not allowed in the base but no one seems to have told her that and so she is puffing away on her pipe.

Edward, who had been feeding Den scraps under the table, sends her a withering look.

“It's the end of the world,” he says, “The least we can do is die fat and happy.” It's says it easily, evasively. They all know it might be over soon. He says it as someone who knows better than others. Better than most.

“Why are you still fighting,” Roy asks, not sure if he even wants to know the answer, “If you think it's the end?”

Ed's eyes, even in the harsh fluorescent lights of the base, are as golden as few living things should be.

“Because if I don't,” Ed tells him, “It's gonna be game over either way.”

xvi.

Drift compatibility, generally speaking, makes sense.

Olivier Armstong and Artyom Buccaneer make sense because he has been serving under her for years. Ling and Lan Fan make sense because they grew up together. Sig and Izumi Curtis make sense because they are married and still madly in love.

Roy and Ed, on the other hand, should not make sense.

Ed's mind is a flurry of contradictions. Smiles tucked into the corners of his loved ones, Alphonse, their mother, Winry, Pinako. Izumi with a halo of the morning sun, a dead kaiju at her feet and a defunct Jaeger at her back, Izumi pale and with coughs shaking her asunder. Snippets of Al's mind interwoven with his own. Brandings of the precise moment in which Al lost feeling in his legs, of when Ed felt nothing but the absence of his own limbs. Metal grinding against kaiju scales, metal grinding into Ed's flesh and bone, fusing with his skin. Weeks and weeks of sitting by Al's bedside, waiting for him to wake up. Months and months of being useless, useless, useless. Day after day of dreadful news, broken walls, broken bodies.

And watching, always watching, as Winry and the rest of the team sew Fullmetal Alchemist back into her former glory, some uneven stitches here, some scars there, and Ed knows that you are never just piloting with your partner but with your Jaeger as well. He'll brave the oceans with her yet again and even the idea of doing it without Al doesn't hurt as much as it ought to.

Revenge, Roy had thought, when it had always been so much more than that.

xx.

“Oi,” Ed says, flicking an automail finger against Roy's wrist. The impact reverberates through Roy's bone marrow. “I'm not fucking piloting with you if you're hungover.”

“We share our minds, not our actual brains,” Roy tells him from experience. Maes had never complained about sympathy headaches the morning after Roy had drunk himself into a stupor again. But he had given Roy steady looks, not necessarily disappointed, but lingering a little too long for comfort. Ed is doing the same now, though his eyebrows are pinched, his eyes somber.

“What would you like me to do instead?” Roy says, offering a skeleton of a smile. He and Olivier had never gotten along but she had been Alex's sister and Roy blames himself for his failure. Without her and Buccaneer piloting Arctic Briggs, humanity is one, two, a dozen steps closer to extinction.

“Dunno,” Ed says. He scuffs the heel of his boot against the floor, shivering slightly. He's wearing an oversized sweater to fend of the perpetual cold of the Shatterdome. Does he miss the Australian heat? Does he miss his arm and leg underneath the phantom pain? Does he miss his mother like Roy misses Maes?

“Dunno,” Ed repeats, “But grief's gonna fuck you over if you don't fuck it back.”

“And how do you...,” Roy says, tilting his head to the side in mildly drunk curiosity, “Fuck grief back?”

Edward grins, boyish and brave and full of bad ideas.

“You fight,” he says as though it were a gospel.

A moment of enlightenment and then Roy sets his glass aside. He prays.

xvi.

Roy, to his chagrin, estimated the Elrics. Not just Edward, but Alphonse, too.

There is more to them than sun tanned skin and the lucky coincidence of being drift compatible.

“I had to do something,” Alphonse says with red bleeding into his hazel eyes. Roy wrinkles his nose against the invasive smell of the kaiju brain on the slab, but Edward doesn't even seem to notice, fuzzing over his younger brother like a nervous bird.

“What did you see?” Grumman wants to know.

“Their world,” Alphonse says and then he explains.

xxiii. Sex, in its many forms, is a form of survival. On the one hand, there is procreation. On the other, there is the instinct to affirm life, the urgency of one's last moments.

Cheap whiskey, Roy knows, does not compare to orgasm, but Edward's eyes have the same color.

The boy has not done this often, Roy thinks. Too earnest to bed one of his many groupies, too busy to bother with anyone else. On the surface, Edward seems to consist of little but Jaeger, kaiju, and his pickpocketed family. Underneath that, however, sits a deep-rooted fear of pain and loneliness and abandonment.

So he lets Roy fuck him in the face of death and destruction, and Roy fucks him in spite of it. He puts no promises into his kisses, no reassurances, because he doesn't have any. Instead, he weaves solace into Edward's hair, gentle reminders that for now – for now – they are here and alive and in each others' arms instead of each others' heads. It's little and lacking, but it's all they have and that makes it precious.

Roy does not dream that night.

iii.

“Ah,” Maes says, when they are playing cards without any gambles, “What will you do? When it's done, I mean.”

He never seems to doubt that it would be done, eventually. That humanity would win the fight and that life would return to how it was before the first kaiju appeared.

Roy thinks of how Maes himself would probably leave the military and take up a desk job somewhere else, something that allows him to be with Gracia and Elysia, something that doesn't count down his days like the war clock at the Shatterdome. Tick tick. Reset. Tick tick. Reset.

Roy, however, is not like that. Roy sees the horizon only when there is a new monster appearing on it. Roy never plans beyond that.

“I'd like to watch the sunrise,” he says and reveals his hand.

xxvi.

Mankind, like cockroaches, are tenacious little beasts.

xxiv.

“You mad cunt,” Edward yells against the wind. His hair is already wavy with sea salt, even though it can't have been more than a few minutes. Logically, Roy knows it can't have been more than a few minutes, even though it felt like eternity.

The memories of passing through the portal are both hazy and knife-sharp at the same time. He entered another world, another planet. And, what's more, he almost died. But he didn't.

“Are you all right?” he asks, somewhat numbly. There are voices coming from out of the escape pod, questions on whether everything worked out on their end, promises to come get them soon. He thinks he can hear helicopters in the distance.

“All right?” Edward repeats as though the definition of the word had just been fundamentally altered. The combination of his accent and adrenaline slur the words until he sounds almost drunk on elation. “All right?”

His fingers are on the collar of Roy's suit, a tether that is tender and terrible at the same time. His clammy forehead presses against Roy's.

“This is General Grumman,” Grumman's voice drones out of the pod. He sounds tinny and far away. The moment remains untouchable.

“The breach is sealed,” he announces, “Stop the clock!”

Roy kisses Ed.