#anyways this was a failed mission to find an ellie song so not all is good in this world alas

[arolesbianism]

We have an au song that isn't for Jackie and Olivia on the playlist boys 🎉

[purplehairedwonder]

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 12

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 4629 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Nami, Chopper, Usopp, Brook, Zoro, Nami, Franky, Smoker, Tashigi, Doflamingo Notes: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

The story title is based on the Ellie Goulding song “Hearts Without Chains.”

The nickname Doflamingo uses for Law in this chapter is a nod to the story “Worth” by Doctor_Cyance.

Warning: This chapter contains the description of a panic attack.

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

After leaving the control room, Law followed the echoing cacophony of the fully collected Straw Hat crew through the halls of the lab. Smoker trailed behind him, tension on the acrid air surrounding him. The moment Law had realized what he’d let the vice admiral hear about his past, he’d debated whether to let Smoker return to the Marines with that information. But the feeling of Vergo’s heartbeat stopping in his hand was still fresh in his mind, and he didn’t particularly feel like ending yet another life today after everything that had happened.

If the other man tried to talk to him about it, though… Well, Law couldn’t make any promises then.

As he walked, Law considered his situation. With Vergo dead, the main source of the rumor of Law’s disloyalty was gone. Law had the dead man’s Den Den Mushi in his pocket, and even if he had recorded Law’s words, Law would simply destroy the recording. For a brief moment, Law considered ending his partnership with the Straw Hats since he’d taken care of his main target, but he dismissed the idea almost as soon as it crossed his mind. Law could pretend he’d never seen Vergo on Punk Hazard, but Doflamingo would hear of Vergo’s death eventually, and, considering the cause of death, there would be no mistaking who had killed him.

Not to mention, Law had obviously failed in the mission he’d been sent to complete—and he couldn’t imagine finishing it now. Not when he couldn’t shake the startled recognition that had struck him as he and Straw Hat had shaken hands that the pull in his chest had gone still, as though Law were where he was meant to be.

No, even with Vergo dead, Law was still just as stuck as he had been the moment Vergo had arrived on the island. He had no choice—either for himself or his nakama—but to continue on the path he was on.

Laughs and shouts bounced off the lab’s metal walls, and, as Law and his stewing shadow approached the source, Law recalled the blueprints he’d been provided; this must be the Biscuit Room, he thought as he stepped into the large, colorful space. He’d wondered at the name as he’d pored over the schematics on his way over, but now he understood. Smoker stepped up next to him and made a disapproving sound at the sight of what was clearly a space for children—children who had become science experiments for a mad clown.

Law narrowed his eyes, assessing the scene in front of him. It seemed the Straw Hats had taken care of their enemies with alacrity. Both Caesar and Monet were wrapped in what Law hoped were Seastone chains (he had warned them) and slumped against the wall. The cat burglar stood not far from them, hands on her hips and a small smile curving her lips as she watched the antics of her crewmates. Smoker’s second stood on the other side of the captives, clearly having taken it upon herself to guard them. G-5 soldiers milled about close to the swordswoman, refusing to fully engage with the pirates.

“Oh, Torao! You’re here!”

Law looked up to see Straw Hat across the room. He was perched atop the back of a couch next to Zoro, who appeared to be dozing. Long Nose sat across from them, his slingshot in hand. It looked like they’d been in the middle of a lively conversation before Law had caught the other captain’s attention. Nico Robin sat next to Long Nose, one leg crossed primly over the other and her hands clasped in her lap. She was smiling, as though enjoying whatever her nakama were discussing. The cyborg sat on the floor next to her. The skeleton, for his part, was wandering around the room, playing a jaunty tune on a violin. (At this point, Law didn’t have it in him to question where that had come from.)

That left the tanuki, Black Leg, and the samurai. Considering none of the children were present, Law had a feeling he knew what the little doctor was up to, anyway. Law idly wondered if he was having any luck treating the children before shoving the thought aside; he didn’t like thinking about his own history with looking to other doctors for help.

“Straw Hat-ya,” Law replied, stepping further into the room.

“What happened to that Verto guy?”

Law tightened his grip on Kikoku briefly. “Dead.”

Straw Hat simply nodded, but outraged noises erupted from the other side of the room. Law turned to look at the prisoners.

“What?” Caesar gasped loudly. “But he’s—”

“So, he was right,” Monet said, the quiet betrayal in her voice more painful than Law had expected it to be. “You were a traitor after all. I didn’t believe him when he told us.”

Though he hated the Family as a whole for what they had taken from him—and continued to take as they held his crew’s lives over his head—Law had spent years with people like Monet once he’d been brought to Dressrosa. And he didn’t hate them all as individuals. Monet was a lot like Law himself, having been rescued by the Family after an unspeakable trauma along with her sister. But, unlike Law, she hadn’t been freed from the corrosive influence of the Donquixote Pirates. She’d been fully indoctrinated and would never believe the truth of who Doflamingo truly was that Law had witnessed on Minion Island. Doffy had her undying loyalty.

Law’s jaw tightened. “He didn’t give me much choice.”

“I can’t believe you teamed up with these… idiots,” Caesar said, lips curling in disgust as he looked at the Straw Hats.

“Idiots?” the cyborg called. “That’s super rude.”                      

“These idiots kicked your butt,” Long Nose reminded him, aiming an empty sling shot in his direction. “So, what does that say about you?”

Caesar made some incomprehensible frustrated noises in response, but Monet simply looked at Law, her usually placid expression tinged with hurt. “Why, Corazon? After everything the Young Master’s given you?”

Law snorted, an ugly sound that caused Monet to recoil. He knew exactly where he stood with Doflamingo—the Warlord’s tool and plaything and the means to an end—and none of it was for Law’s sake.

It was never for anyone’s sake but his own.

Doflamingo liked to act like he was generous with his Family, but all he really knew how to do was take. He gave but took twofold in return—his gifts came with strings, literally and figuratively. The cost was unflinching allegiance to a madman, pieces of one’s soul irreparably damaged by every act of loyalty, every drop of blood spilled in the name of a man who believed himself a god. And the Family was happy to pay the price; Law once had felt the same before he’d been saved.

Doflamingo was also unflinching in taking from those who refused to pay fealty. He’d taken Cora-san all those years ago for saving Law. He’d taken Law’s and his friends’ freedom on a no-name island in the North Blue. He took the very existences of his enemies in Dressrosa, using Sugar’s abilities to erase them from memory and enslave them as toys.

It was fitting, Law had thought when he’d first learned of the scope of the operation in the kingdom; Doflamingo was a puppet master, literally pulling strings. He saw others as his toys to play with as he wished. Law was nothing more than another one of those toys, though a supposedly privileged one, sitting on the Heart Throne. But it was nothing more than a gilded cage. Law’s eventual purpose was still to die for Doflamingo’s immortality. After everything else he’d taken from Law, he also intended to take Law’s life. And he expected Law to give it willingly; anything else would break the illusion of Doflamingo’s complete control.

“He’s given me nothing,” Law replied coldly. Nothing that he hadn’t taken back countless times over as he whittled Law down into the shape he wanted as his Corazon, anyway.

Monet opened her mouth to reply, but she was cut off by a loud wail as the Straw Hats’ little doctor came out of a side room.

“Chopper, what’s wrong?” the cat burglar asked, hurrying to his side.

“I’ve tried everything I can think of,” he said, “but the drugs in their system are just too strong, and I don’t fully understand their interactions.”

“Of course, they’re strong,” Caesar sniffed. “I made them, and I’m a genius.”

“Shut up, clown,” Nami hissed before turning back to her crewmate. “So, what does that mean?”

“If I can’t get the drugs out of their system, they won’t get better,” the tanuki sniffed. “I can treat the symptoms, but I can’t cure them.”

“Let Torao take a look!”

Law jerked in surprise as rubbery limbs wound tightly around his shoulders and the too-loud voice rang in his ears. (His concussion complained with a painful pang in response, and Law winced.) He hadn’t even noticed Straw Hat moving from the couch. Law prodded at him with Kikoku’s hilt in a futile attempt to dislodge him, but Straw Hat just grinned at him.

The Straw Hats’ doctor eyed Law uncertainly. “I don’t know, Luffy…”

“He’s a good doctor,” Luffy said with a decisive nod. “He saved me.”

After several failed attempts to detach the other captain—the freaking limpet—Law sighed and satisfied himself with the biggest eyeroll he could manage.

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Luffy?” the cat burglar asked. Her suspicions remained, and Law could respect that. Someone on this crew needed to exercise some common sense.

“Torao can look at them,” Straw Hat said, unswayed.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Law demanded. Being talked about like he wasn’t present was one of his (admittedly many) pet peeves.

“Shishishi,” Straw Hat chuckled. “You’ll look at them, won’t you?”

In hindsight, as Law followed the tanuki to the room he’d been seeing the children in, he’d like to say he agreed because disagreeing with Straw Hat over it would be too much trouble, and, with his head injury, he didn’t have it in him to argue. But the truth was that there was something in the wide, trusting grin Straw Hat effortlessly threw in his direction and the responding warmth in his chest that made the agreement roll off his tongue before he could stop it.

He listened with half an ear as the tanuki explained what he’d already tried with the children and what he’d found. Though Law wasn’t privy to the exact goings-on in the lab, he had a sense of how ugly some of the projects Doflamingo had his fingers in were, so nothing he heard surprised him.

“L-look, Corazon,” the little doctor said once he finished his recitation, voice trembling slightly as he turned to face Law, hooves on his hips. “These kids have been through a lot. They’re scared and in pain and want to go home. D-don’t make it worse, okay? O-or I’ll kick your ass myself!”

Law had never seen anything less intimidating—and his best friend was a polar bear mink, which said something—but he still respected the sentiment. That protective instinct toward a patient was the attitude a true healer should have, one Law had seen in his parents as they fought for the people of Flevance while it was ravaged by plague. And, despite all the blood he’d spilled over the years, it was a feeling he could feel stirring deep, deep within himself, too.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Law replied. “You probably shouldn’t be here while I work, though.”

“What? Why?”

“My methods are… unorthodox,” Law settled on. Though the Ope Ope no Mi’s effects were bloodless and painless, that didn’t make them any less disturbing to most people who saw them.

The tanuki hemmed and hawed for several moments, and Law felt his impatience growing until he just opened a Room and approached the kids. The little doctor yelped and followed him.

“You’re that man from outside,” one of the kids said as Law approached, frowning at him.

“I am,” Law agreed.

“What are you going to do to us?” another child asked, arms crossed defensively.

Law felt his eye twitch at the assumption he was there to hurt them, but Law had attacked the people who were trying to help them escape. He wasn’t entirely sure what to say—he knew a thing or two about being a traumatized child, but that didn’t make him an expert on dealing with others.

“Corazon here is a doctor,” the tanuki said, coming up next to Law.

That piqued the interest of some of the children.

“A doctor?”

“Like you?

“What kind of name is Corazon, anyway?”

“Law.” Everyone turned to look at him in surprise. “That’s my name,” he clarified, startling even himself. “Corazon is a title, but…” But he didn’t work for the Donquixote Family anymore now that he’d sided with the Straw Hats, did he?

He glanced down to see the Straw Hat doctor looking at him curiously. “What?” he demanded, feeling suddenly uncomfortable, like he was being looked through rather than at. He couldn’t help but be reminded of Bepo when looking at the small creature, and Bepo had always known Law better than anyone—often better than Law himself.

“Nothing,” the little doctor squeaked before looking back at the kids. “Doctor Law here is going to look at you. I’ll be just outside if you need me!”

With that, he glanced back at Law once more then left the room, closing the door behind him. Law, curious at the tanuki’s sudden agreement to leave Law and the kids alone, turned back to the children. He took a breath and unsheathed Kikoku to perform a Scan.

-----

Once Law was finished his work, he left the delighted children chattering to each other about what it was like having their body parts removed and opened the door. The Straw Hat’s doctor was sitting just outside, and he perked up at Law’s appearance.

“Well?”

“I was able to remove all traces of the drugs from their system,” Law said. “But most of them will be dealing with the effects of long-term exposure. With rehab, they should all be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Law said, slightly annoyed at having his professional opinion questioned. Though he didn’t truly blame the tanuki; whatever Caesar had been experimenting on with these children, he’d given them some incredibly potent drug combinations that Law had never seen. Anyone without the power of Law’s fruit would have had a hard, if not impossible, time treating these children.

As Law had initially Scanned the children and seen the degenerative effects of the drugs they’d been exposed to, he’d been reminded of the charts he’d seen in his parents’ clinic of patients with Amber Lead Disease and the devastating effects on the body; he’d had to forcibly shake himself from the memory to continue working.

He started as the tanuki hurled himself at Law and wrapped his little arms around Law’s legs. The Straw Hats were far too affectionate for Law’s comfort.

“Thank you!” he said, looking up at Law with teary eyes. “I didn’t know what I was going to do for them!”

“It’s nothing,” Law said, lightly shaking his leg in an attempt to remove the other doctor. He was finding himself saying that a lot around the Straw Hats, he realized. He wasn’t sure he wanted to examine that any more closely.

The tanuki finally released Law’s leg and wiped his eyes with a hoof. “Luffy was right.” He gave Law a weak smile. “So, thank you for this. And for saving Luffy when I couldn’t. Law.”

Law opened his mouth to wave off the thanks again, but he shut it when he heard his name. Looking at the little creature, he felt his chest clench as he was reminded of Bepo when he’d called earlier. “I knew it, Captain. I knew you were still in there.”

He thought of the small feeling of satisfaction he got from healing Black Leg’s fracture, from knowing his hands could still heal after everything else they’d done.

Maybe Bepo was right, and the boy he’d sworn to follow no matter what thirteen years earlier was still in Law somewhere. Law had long thought that boy dead in the North Blue, but Bepo had always been the wisest of the Hearts.

“They’re your patients, Tony-ya,” Law said, recalling the doctor’s name from his—frankly ludicrous—wanted poster. “I was just helping out.”

Chopper’s face lit up at Law’s use of his name, but he tried to hide his pleasure. “That doesn’t make me happy, you bastard.”

Law’s lips twitched as he left Chopper to deal with the children now that they were no longer poisoned and headed back to the Biscuit Room.

When he entered, Straw Hat perked up immediately, as though he had a radar for Law’s presence. “Oi, Torao!”

“How are the children?” Nico Robin asked, eyes following her captain’s gaze.

“I removed the drugs from their systems,” Law said. “They should be fine with some long-term treatment.”

“What?” Caesar squeaked. “You shouldn’t be able to—”

Before Law could open a Room to shut the clown up, the cat burglar smacked him on the head. “Shut up, you slimy bastard. You’re lucky Torao here was able to help the kids. If he hadn’t been able to…” She trailed off, but the implication remained.

“Still not my name,” Law muttered.

“Still doesn’t matter,” the cat burglar replied in a singsong.

Law sighed and rubbed a hand over his face then looked back up at the other Straw Hats. “Now what?” He had no idea how long he’d been working on the children, but if his waning stamina was any indication, it had been a while. It must be getting late.

“The Marines called for backup,” Nico Robin said, “but the closest ship won’t arrive until tomorrow.”

“Captain Tashigi will be taking charge of the children,” the cat burglar added, a softness in her expression. “She’ll take good care of them.”

“And our next stop is Dressroba!” Straw Hat said.

“Dressrosa,” Law corrected automatically, stomach tightening at the thought.

“From the maps, Dressrosa seems to be fairly close,” Long Nose said, pointing to some maps spread out on a table between the sofas.

“It is,” Law agreed. “Maybe half a day.”

Half a day to figure out how to extricate Law and his nakama from Doflamingo’s strings.

It wasn’t enough time.

The cat burglar nodded thoughtfully as she came up next to the table and looked at the maps. She was their navigator, if Law remembered correctly. “It’s too late to set sail tonight,” she said. “We thought we’d leave in the morning.”

Law nodded curtly. “Fine.”

“So, you want to tell us what we’re walking into when we get there?” Zoro asked, arms crossed and eye narrowed.

Law opened his mouth to respond, but he was interrupted by the muted sound of ringing. Law reached into his coat pocket and found his Den Den Mushi waiting to be answered.

There was only one person that could be.

“Shit,” Law cursed.

He had no interest in letting the Straw Hats or Marines overhear this call, so he quickly formed a Room and Shambled into the first space that came to mind: the control room. He landed on the couch in place of a pillow he’d switched with.

He set Kikoku to his side and stared at the snail for a moment before answering.

“Doffy.”

“Corazon,” Doflamingo replied. Law tried to listen for anything off in his voice, any sense he knew Law had really betrayed him after all. “How is the mission going?”

Law hesitated only a moment as he calculated the best response to give. “It’s done.”

“And there were no… complications?”

Law knew he was imagining it, but he couldn’t help but feel like Vergo’s corpse was staring at him from across the room.

“No. The intruders were taken care of.”

“That’s good to hear. I’ve been trying to call Monet but haven’t received a response.”

“She was injured during the fight,” Law said, the lie falling from his lips without a second thought. “I treated her wounds, and she’s currently sleeping.”

Doffy hummed in response. “I see. And Caesar?”

“The clown is locked away in his lab,” Law replied, allowing his disdain for the scientist creep into his voice. Doffy wouldn’t be surprised by it. “I don’t know how Monet puts up with him.”

Doffy chuckled. “She does it for me.”

“Of course.”

“And when do you plan to return home?”

“I’ll set sail in the morning.”

“Excellent. I knew you were the right man for this mission. Until tomorrow, little bird.”

Law grimaced at the nickname as he hung up the call. The Birdcage haunted Law’s nightmares to this day, and he felt like nothing so much as a caged bird in Doflamingo’s service—and the man knew it. The nickname had become more regular since he’d started bringing Law into his bed, an act that had truly felt like clipping his wings.

And now the little broken bird was going to try to fly again.

It would never work.

Law could feel his heartrate picking up as his thoughts started to whirl.

Like he’d told Violet that morning—had that only been this morning? It felt like a lifetime ago—he was Doflamingo’s creature, possessed by the man inside and out.

He lifted a hand to his chest, only to find his entire arm shaking.

Doflamingo was a Warlord and a former Celestial Dragon.

Heat rose in his face.

Who was Law?

Bile rose in his throat.

Doflamingo was a dragon to Law’s bird.

He was going to throw up.

What was Law doing?

Law pushed himself to his feet and took a few unsteady steps forward and managed to round the couch, but his vision spun in front of him.

What was he thinking?

His feet tangled under him with his next step, and he crashed to the floor behind the couch.

He was going to get his nakama killed with this futile venture.

His breaths came in jagged pants, his tight chest struggling to inhale and exhale, and all he could hear was rushing in his ears.

Everything Law had done for the last nine years had been to keep his nakama safe, and now he was going to fail them completely.

Law’s entire body shook, and he curled in on himself.

And now he was going to get Luffy’s crew killed, too.

He screwed his eyes shut and put his hands over his ears as he struggled to breathe. The walls were closing in on him. He could feel the wood of the treasure chest beneath him and the treasure they’d shifted to fit Law into the chest at his back. The lid of the chest wouldn’t move since Cora-san had placed another chest atop it to disguise Law’s hiding place.

Law tried to summon a Room to escape, but his powers refused to cooperate, slipping through his fingers like sand.

Cora-san was going to die because he’d helped Law…

A cold sweat clung to his body.

The deafening cracks of gunshots, one after another, rang through Law’s ears and tears streamed down his face.

Law couldn’t make a sound because of Cora-san’s powers. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out except for ragged breaths.

He flinched hard as he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder.

Wait, a hand? Law was alone in the treasure chest.

The hand withdrew, and Law slowly opened his eyes. For a moment, all he could see was a blur in front of him—then red came into focus.

Doflamingo had worn red that night.

Law jolted backward until his back ran into something solid. He hissed through clenched teeth.

“—orao? Can you hear me?”

Law blinked slowly as a voice started to form words amidst the rushing in his ears. He felt the hand return to his shoulder, but he didn’t fight it off this time. Who—?

“Hey, Torao. It’s me. Can you hear me?”

It was Luffy.

Luffy hadn’t been on Minion Island.

Right.

Law wasn’t on Minion Island. He was on Punk Hazard.

Law wasn’t a sickly thirteen-year-old boy anymore. He was twenty-six and one of the most feared pirates in the New World.

Luffy squeezed Law’s shoulder when it was clear Law wasn’t going to freak out again.

Gradually, Law felt his heartrate slow, and his chest loosened, allowing him to take deeper breaths.

“Straw Hat-ya,” Law finally managed, voice rasping from his struggle to breathe. He pushed himself up off the floor, but his limbs felt like jelly, so he simply leaned against the back of the couch and pulled his knees up to his chest. He wrapped his arms around his knees.

Shame started to creep up the back of his neck as he realized he’d let Luffy see him having a panic attack—he hadn’t had one in years—only hours after making an alliance. He’d shown his allied captain how weak he truly was on the eve of taking on one of the most powerful men in the New World.

But Luffy simply smiled when Law acknowledged him and sat down next to Law, mirroring his position with his knees up to his chest. He rested his head on his knees and turned to look at Law.

Law resigned himself to questions about what had happened and was already considering how to reply, but Luffy surprised him.

“I used to get them after Ace died,” he said quietly. “Out in the forest alone when I trained with Rayleigh. I’d remember what happened and then I couldn’t breathe. I’d feel Ace dying in my arms and the fire in my chest all over again.” A soft smile returned. “But it got better when I saw my nakama again. They got easier to deal with when I wasn’t alone anymore.”

Looking at the other captain, Law realized that despite the grin that seemed permanently etched into Luffy’s face, he’d been through a lot in his short years. They had that in common. But where Law had retreated into himself to cope, Luffy turned outward. After coming to Dressrosa, Law had been too afraid to show any sign of weakness around the Donquixote Family, so he bottled everything up until it exploded. And the explosions tended to be violent.

“Doflamingo called,” Law said after a few silent moments by way of explanation.

“That Mingo’s a bad guy, huh?”                      

Law’s lips twitched tiredly at how simple Luffy made the situation. He rested his chin on the top of his knees. “Yes, he is.”

His eyes were getting heavy. Between the extended use of his fruit today and now the panic attack, Law supposed it was amazing he was even still awake. It was nothing new, though; working himself into unconsciousness was his preferred method of sleeping, despite the frequent protestations of his crew.

Law swallowed at the thought of his nakama back in Dressrosa.

“We’ll get him,” Luffy said confidently. “We’ll get Mingo, and we’ll save your nakama, Torao.”

Law grunted a response, and that seemed to be enough for Luffy.

They sat like that for a time, Luffy quieter than Law would have expected he could be. Despite the way Law’s thoughts had been a whirlwind before, they were quiet now. Gradually, Law’s eyes drifted closed, and he thought he might have felt an arm wrap around his shoulders before he went under completely.

Next chapter

[strainingfororiginality]

Interlude 9 - Choices

Inspiration: Freak of Nature - Broods, Tove Lo

Dancing scars from long nights I've been bruised by your light Help me now, lonely lover Show me how to uncover

Days of darkness make me smile No one's safe here for a while

It wasn’t really darkness.  Not exactly, it was more like a kind of pure blackness surrounding her now.  At first she assumed it was a lack of light, but she looked down at her open palms and could see them with absolute clarity.  It was everything else around her that was simply empty.

“There are over three thousand species of Anisoptera on the planet, 348 genera in 11 families.”

She knew that voice … it belonged to Ellie … She knew this wasn’t right and now she struggled to remember where she had just been.  The last thing that she recalled before she was standing here was staring into his troubled face, his furrowed brow and his trembling eyes.

Ah yes … that’s right … she had been in his arms.  He had been saying something ... screaming something, but she couldn’t hear him anymore, she couldn’t hear anything anymore except for Ellie’s voice in this black place.  It had been quite distant at first, but now it seemed louder; with each sentence, it seemed clearer and full of pride.

“An adult’s compound eye has nearly 24,000 ommatidia.  That’s one hell of an amazing eye.  Imagine the things that you could see with that sucker.”

She remembered this conversation now and as suddenly as she had been overcome with nothingness, she was immediately sitting at the concrete table staring across to her friend.  They were back in college, eating lunch and discussing … what was it again?  Anisoptera?

“They spend most of their lives as nymphs, undergoing several incomplete metamorphosis of varying stages before they finally emerge as one of nature’s most perfect predators.  Did you know they are found on every single continent except for Antarctica?  That’s damn impressive.”

She blinked at her friend as she stared back at her.  She was still holding the stale tuna sandwich she had just purchased from the student co-op center and she took another reluctant bite of it as her friend rattled off more trivial and pointless information.

“In Europe, they were considered pretty sinister.  They were known as the Devil’s Darning Needle.  And some thought they had the ability to weigh people’s souls … to see their sins.”

“I’m not sure if that’s the type of information they’ll be looking for, Ells.”  She offered her friend some advice as she stared down at her returned exam, taking another bite of that terrible sandwich.  It was terrible yes, but she now loved the taste of it.  It wasn’t dehydrated after all.  It was “fresh”, back from before the world was fucked.

“To the Welsh, they are known as the Adder’s Servant.  They are said to follow snakes.”

Her friend shrugged off her suggestion, “It will be a comprehensive report.”  And she continued to rattle off something that really shouldn’t find its way into her Evolutionary Biology thesis.  What were they talking about again and why was she here, at this point in time now, reciting the same conversation she’d had with her friend over eight years prior?

“But to the Japanese, they are symbols of courage, strength, and happiness.”

She stared back at her as the final word repeated itself in her mind … happiness.  The sandwich was absolutely delicious now and she looked down at the failed exam again, placing her head in her hands.  She remembered this day clearer now.

“In Southern American Lore, they are known as snake doctors.  They are believed to follow snakes around to mend them and provide aid when needed.  Huh … two absolutely unique cultures associate them with serpents.”

Serpents ...

This was the day that she changed her major from Botany to Mathematics.  It was one of the few days that she had made the choice to surrender to some type of failure and the realization of that fact had brought her great sorrow.

“To the Cheyenne, they were a warning of impending danger from enemies.”

She’d gotten sick and blew the exam entirely.  Actually … Ellie had gotten her sick, but she didn’t blame her.  But this class was a core class for her desired major and she couldn’t just retake it.  It was only offered in the springtime and it was a prerequisite for all of her other classes.

“Native Americans throughout the Great Plains used their imagery during battle because of their quickness and difficulty to kill … always able to dart about and evade capture.”

She would have been forced to stay in school for another year entirely.  That, simply, was not acceptable.  She was good at math after all and she was already accelerated on that path due to the college classes she took in high school.

“The Dakota claimed it has the ability to avoid all danger.  Man, Animal, and even thunder being unable to hurt it.”

She looked at Eleanor again and missed her greatly.  She had always been a wealth of strength for her, even when she was being pig headed, as she was now.  She knew that Ellie’s thesis would be too rooted in theology for her biology teacher to enjoy and as such, she would wind up leaving school without finishing.  She could tell her now, but she knew this was just a memory.  None of this mattered anymore … did it?

“As a creature of the Wind, they represent change or metamorphosis… the perspective of self realization.  It is said to arrive in your life when you are called upon to transform and evolve.”

“I guess that is the theme of the day then … time to transform.”  She frowned and stared down at the test yet again.  Her friend frowned too but continued anyways.  She was on a mission to teach her about … What the hell was it again?  Anisoptera?

“As a creature of the Water, they represent the subconscious … the dreaming mind.”

She had brown hair and a beautifully clear and tan complexion that fit her overly thin body.  She’d always been jealous of Ellie’s even skin tone as her own freckles had often made her feel out of place, especially when she refused to adhere to modern standards and add layers of makeup to hide her imperfect skin in shame.

“They carry insight into our deeper thoughts and deepest desires.”

“Can they tell me if I really want to be a Mathematician?”  She pondered out loud and her friend ignored her question completely, continuing on with the subject at hand.

“It is the harbinger of our dreams, understanding our real capabilities and giving us the ability to accomplish our birthright.”

Eleanor was always an optimist, even her name implied it.  It was Greek for "bright, shining one."  She’d never known her real Russian family and she was forever grateful for the family that had adopted her here in the States when she was only three years old.

Dawn looked down at the flip phone that jingled on the table, indicating a new text message and giggled to herself as she remembered the pre-smartphone days.  She looked down at the message from him, pleading for her to see him that day.  She’d ignored him the last 2 days.

“Is that the ass?”  Ells questioned.

“He’s not an ass.”

“Yeah he is … He said you were a 6 out of 10.  That’s a D … he gave you a D.”

“I shouldn’t have asked, but at least he was honest.  And it was a 6.5.”

“Whatever, he’s an ass.  You deserve somebody who thinks you’re a 10 or fuck, an 8.75 at the very least.”  Ells finalized her opinion of him right then and there.   After this point in time, there was no changing this mindset.

“So, you are basically telling me I deserve to be alone?  Besides, you are the one who set me up him!”

“Yeah, I know.  I’m sorry.  You deserve better.  You do.  But, he’s … “  She seemed like she wasn’t sure exactly how she wanted to finish that statement and suddenly, Dawn could hear the word that Ells had wanted to say at that moment … she hadn’t heard it the first time, but now she did … necessary?  Was that even right?  But, he’s … necessary.  Ellie let the sentence trail off as she decided to continue on with her lesson.

“For the Navajo, they represent pure water.”

Ellie hadn’t really talked her into changing her major, but she had made her realize it was the right choice.  It would be easier to find a job as well.  Dawn considered this choice, at this very moment, and the impact that it had had on the future.  When she had nearly walked out of their lives entirely, when she had nearly walked away from them … from him ... from Quintus … that day.

“It was used as the emblem of the Mayan goddess of creativity, Ix Chel.  Their myth says its wings and songs revived her after she is almost slain.”

“What about the Cherokee?”  She questioned her.  That was something her and Ells had in common, their ignorance of their backgrounds.  She’d never known her father but her mom had claimed some kind of link through him to the Cherokee, while Ellie had no idea what her race even was.  She was at least half Caucasian, that much was certain, but there was something a bit darker mixed in.  She’d always been envious of her ability to actually tan.  Dawn always thought she was pretty, but neither of them really met that definition in society’s eyes.  

“I don’t know about the Cherokee, but to the Iroquois, it is considered a messenger … of the Great Spirit itself.”

She thought back to this day and wondered again why it was of importance as she devoured the final bit of her stale sandwich with glee.  And as she swallowed the last bit of it … she remembered as Ellie spoke again.

“Libelle, Pipilacha, Libellule, Libellula”

“What?”  She sharply turned her attention back to her rambling friend, “What did you just say?”

“Huh?”  Her confusion was sincere, “About what?”

“What did you just say?”  She pushed again, her eyes were wide.  She remembered that word.  He’d called her that word.

“They are just translations.”  Ellie blew off her question, which required her to ask again, raising her own level of annoyance.

“What was the last one?”  She demanded harshly.

“Libellula.  Its Latin.”

“Latin for what?”  She already knew it was Latin and she pushed again.

“What do you mean … for what?  Have you not been paying attention to anything that I’ve been saying?”  While her words implied annoyance, her face showed the complete opposite.  Ellie seemed to be smiling now, “Anisoptera.”

Dawn sighed heavily and she stared at her and furrowed her brows, “Ells ... Please.”  She begged.

And her friend’s smile widened, “Anisoptera is an infraorder of Odonata … the Dragonfly.”

Dawn blinked at this and realized why she was remembering it.  It was his final word to her, the final parting gift he’d given her before he left her and started to fade.  The last thing that she had heard from his lips before it had become her turn to … fade.

She was dying … again … in his arms.  All things considered, this wasn’t a bad way to go.  She wouldn’t have wanted to die anywhere else, she suddenly realized.  But this revelation actually made her feel like a fucking fool and there was a great swell of shame that followed her foolish feelings.  How amazingly pathetic she felt at this very moment ... pining over a man who is already eternally in love with someone else ... She pushed his image from her mind completely forcefully to turn it off.  This weakness disgusted her.

“No ... “  Ells shook her head as she already seemed to know what was happening within Dawn’s psyche, “Your feelings do not make you weak ... and turning them off will not make you strong.  Your empathy is what sets you apart from all of those around you.  Your capacity for love is what makes you more powerful than they can imagine.”

Dawn stared down towards her empty hands and felt the tears begin to well up within her eyes as Ells spoke again.

“I’m sorry that its been difficult.  I’m sorry that you’ve had to suffer to get to where you are now.  But know that you are not the only one who has had to endure pain.  I told you that you deserved better ... the very very best ... but you’ll need to be open to it ... Fear makes us all say stupid things.  Don’t let yesterday destroy tomorrow.  Yesterday is dead.”

Looking back into her friend's eyes, she found Ells was smiling even wider now, “Why?”  She asked, “Why are you telling me all of this now?”

“Because you need to hear it.”

“But why Anisoptera?”

Ellie spoke confidently, “Because you needed to remember it.”

“For what purpose?”  She questioned, “I don’t need to remember anything anymore.  I get to end now, don’t I?”

“This is only your end if you wish it … And we both know that you don’t.  You can’t.  You aren’t wired that way.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.  I gave up ... I gave him my life.”  She stated to Ellie.

“No, you gave him a choice.  He’s been given this same choice before.”  Her smile was brilliant, “And he has already made it, as we knew he would … now it's up to you again … it’s your choice ...”

We?

“What choice … what choice could I possibly have now?”  She was grabbing at straws when she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder.  She turned to face its owner, as she looked up to a woman, younger than she was now with beautiful dark skin with darker hair, a slender face with beautiful and bewitching brown and amber eyes.  Dawn’s eyes grew wide when she spoke because it was her voice … it was ... holy shit ... that voice.

“Whether you will fade … or whether you will transform, Libellula.”

And everything faded …

          into a blinding and painful white.

[cepmurphy]

20 Elections - 20 Notes

During the general election, I wrote twenty different alternate history shorts. Here’s the thinking and points of diversion behind them: (SPOILERS) #1: You Won’t Get Me, I’m Part Of The Union This one, you can tell it was written when Le Pen was clearly going to make it Round 2 of the 2017 French elections. (Banks is in UKIP financier Aaron Banks) The title is from a hit song in the 70s about trade unions. Famously, a desperate French President Reynaud in 1940 proposed a vaguely defined “Anglo-French Union” in the hope of keeping his government going and France fighting. Any such union would, of course, stick together only in conflict. Of the other three union members, Ireland was secretly offered Northern Ireland back if it joined the war effort in 1943 and Gabon did hold a referendum on independence or remaining part of France. Britain was lucky in that it’s the only European empire to have escaped decolonisation without a long, bloody war (for us rather than the locals) to retain colonies that we then lost anyway. France fought two such wars in Algeria and Vietnam - if we were bonded to them, we wouldn’t be so lucky as real life. #2: A Popular Mandate The title is a mean dig at pro-Brexit’s talk of mandates but the story is based on Erdogan’s increasingly autocracy in Turkey. (And he too held a referendum) The POD is another famous one: the coup plots against Harold Wilson by a few idiots in MI5 and press magnate Cecil King, with Lord Mountbatten intended as the interim leader. In real life it was a damp squib but if it had happened, then the door would be opened for more coups - the spell that we call “peaceful exchange of power” would be shattered and, like a few other countries, we might never get it back. Dimbleby as in David Dimbleby, the BBC’s undying election night host. #3: These Colours Don’t Run IRON MAIDEN!!! One of their many songs about war and armies, of course. The Iraq War was a hugely defining event, the two of the one-two punch that started with September 11. It hangs over every foreign military engagement for a dozen countries and makes people leery of any big involvement. And the Iraq War happened solely because George Bush and his chums won, and were given an opening by 9/11 - so you just need the votes in Florida to change and then, we just have a string of successful, “cheap” interventions from Falklands on (or so we’d remember them). Is that notoriously gobby Jess Philips as Labour leader, battling against notoriously urg-not-HIM Liam Fox? I can’t possible comment. #4: Carry On As in “keep calm and”, written not so long after a terrorist attack. A statement had to be made. #5: Meet The New Bosses This one comes from two things: the unprecedented success of Macron in France and the collapse of the big parties that allowed it, and the many, many fluctuating polls in our election. Labour and the Tories seem like stable, unstoppable forces but such certainties can change - as seen by the obliteration of the Lib Dems and SNP eating all other parties in 2015, as well as France. All it would take is a bit of time and both parties screwing up - the wrong leaders at the wrong time, rather than the zeitgeist-nabbing Blair and Cameron. (Danzcuk was exposed as a creepy sexter after seeming like a righteous campaigner so imagine if he’d got power...) Cole from story #1 is back but in a different role due to the different timeline. That comes from Kim Newman’s Life’s Lottery, where the same cast appear over and over in different roles & personalities depending on what choice the reader makes. (Vince as in Cable, Abbott as in Diane) Why Dundee? Cos the Beano, home of Roger the Dodger, is from there. The Yorkshire Party is actually real but has never won a thing. The BNP hasn’t either, but here they benefit from UKIP never supplanting them and stand as the Front National standins. #6: Status Quo Statistically, it’s weird that we not only have had only two women PM’s who were the only two female party leaders at UK level and so few women seriously run for the job. I wonder what could ever be the reason for that. I wonder. All female leaders mentioned are real prominent politicians, some more than others. Davidson is Ruth Davidson, Scottish Tory leader and at the time of writing, I didn’t expect her to be the Tory’s shining light in 2017, the one gaining them seats without loss. Maybe she will be a potential PM soon.... #7: The Old Familiar Stain The title comes from the song Hurt, by NIN and then Johnny Cash. A recurring claim in Britain is the Empire wasn’t so bad and we brought civilisation to the heathens, even if we know not to say White Man’s Burden now - this even as we hear time and again about atrocities we glossed over at the time. (Kenyans who were tortured during the Mau Mau uprising did go to the High Court a few years ago) Surely we’d not think that if we’d been good socialists, right? Politicians mentioned are all key Labour people through history - including party founder Keir Hardie - with “Uncle Arthur” a nickname for Arthur Henderson. Only Ramsay Macdonald got to be PM in real life, and in difficult circumstances. #8: The Big Society Title is, of course, a mean dig at a Cameron slogan. A bunch of alternate history and sci-fi stories have multinational megastates and power blocks. Council elections are often meagre because they’re considered to not really be powerful - why wouldn’t that happen in a hypothetical ‘megastate’? The POD here is no American Revolution, leading to increasingly powerful dominions within empire, leading to here. Philadelphia was America’s prime city before the revolution and temporarily a capital. #9: A Sense of Proportion I was in a defiantly optimistic mood for this one. Back in 2011, we decided not to move to a different electoral system - alternative vote rather than this timeline’s single transferable - but stick with first-past-the-post instead. Voting models show this would prevent a majority Tory government and lead to UKIP's 4m voter surge giving them more than one seat. That would not have been sustainable, hence the early election after all. Ed Miliband really has had a change of reputation in certain circles: once he was no longer party leader, he started to be quite funny and play social media like a fiddle. That, it seems, was the real Ed all along and he was covering it up. Once you take fear away... #10: Special Relationships You can all tell what this one’s about. Ruth Davidson returns, this time with Louise Mensch, former MP and major Trump & Putin hater. Having her be in Cabinet is a stretch but hey, narrative. Operation Sea Lion is the famous Nazi plan to invade Britain - and in violation of alternate history, most historians are pretty sure Sea Lion would have failed. If that had happened, you alter the shape of World War Two. The barbed comments about America “being late” for the war are still made now, after we were allies together, and if America had never shown up at all (and without Pearl Harbor it may not have) then all we ‘know’ about transatlanic relations is out the window. #11: The Great Blue Hope Popularly, the Falklands was what saved Thatcher’s first term. A divisive government, high unemployment, and an eyecatching new opposition party in the SDP could have nobbled her without the war - and the war could have easily gone against us. And once you’re a failed party, you can be a failed party for a generation. The many annoying answers to door-knocking are all things that I’ve seen or heard canvassers & politicians mention. It’s a right slog.

#12: Clever, Clever, Clever I Don’t Like Michael Gove: The Novelisation. Gove really did backstab Boris Johnson in the real world’s 2016 party race. Now we know that’s what Mr “I Don’t Want To Be PM” would do. We also have allegations he was at dinners with Trump allies that Cambridge Analytica set up. He was a Brexiteer - and once the Prime Minister is taking a stance, that side can no longer claim to be the anti-establishment vote. Labour and the Lib Dems going into coalition in 2010 is a recurring ‘what if’ in political thought. It’s public record how many people in Labour didn’t want to, however, and if the Lib Dems were doomed for helping Tories imagine if they’re propping up a ‘failed’ government. It’df definitel;y be Tories winning next. Liz Kendall came nowhere near winning the Labour leadership in our time but she did get brief attention for playing the Young One card - after 17 years of power and looking tired in public, Labour would want young. #13: Frankenstein Must Vote The further we get from the 80s, the dafter the “video nasties” thing seems. A bunch of horror movies, many not that bad except in production value terms, being effectively banned in the UK, that far into the 20th century? The past is another country. Hammer Horror did not, in real life, survive the mid-70s but it could have, maybe, with a bit more effort. Zepellins vs Pterodactyls really was a planned film. There’s Cole again! (And Ansari from #5, in passing) Yeovil is a penname for Kim Newman. #14: Mission Control A Newquay spaceport is a controversial idea the Tories pitched this year. Could it even work? We may find out, we may not. British space agencies have never quite worked the way we dream about them. Black Knight was almost a real rocket system but, in the end, did not happen. Money was only going to pay for so much and realistically, any UK NASA would be limited. However, it could change us despite that - as Warren Ellis once argued for Ministry in Space, our space fiction is the cry of a declining Britain, hungry to believe there was something else to do. Another big nation involved in space flight would also transform the space race, even if it sucked at it. Charles Kennedy never became PM but could - maybe should - have. #15: And I Would Make Five Hundred K The SNP once helped keep Labour in power in the 70s and in exchange, they got a referendum on devolution - one that did not succeed. If it had, it is possible independence may have happened earlier, and (for the plot to work) we’re saying Scotland was less hit by Thatcher’s policies and instead turned them into Scotland’s own. With oil and financial dealings, an independent Scotland could prosper - and would be prey to large foreign sharks. We often think of an independent Scotland as mega-left because we assume the modern SNP will run it and start it off. It’s not a hard law. Oor Wully (”Our Willy” in phoenetic) is a long-running Scottish comic strip. Trump’s mother came out of Scotland and if this was blowing up at the time his businesses were doing bad in the States, I can see him shifting. #16: The Glorious Status Quo The Glorious Revolution - named by English people as for us, it was bloodless - saw parliament call in foreign Protestant monarchs to replace a more catholic-friendly one. This was a huge influence in our politics (and killed thousands upon thousands in Scotland and Ireland) as well as global, ending the Anglo-Dutch rivalry. Catholic-Protestant divides of the time mean even if it didn’t happen, something would at some point. Now this one was a toughie because with this far back a diversion, the world needed to be as different as I could get it without being incomprehensible. The tech, the landmarks, the ethnicities (Native American immigration) all get tweaks. For Tradesman Party, read Labour.

#17: Rock The Vote One thing that keeps going around is that Tony Blair - this is honestly the truth - wanted to get into music and was part of a student rock band. It would only take a bit more success on that front and Blair could have done that for a career instead of becoming an MP. I can’t say if he’d ever be that great a musician but in New Labour’s heyday he had the charisma, the drive, and ability to connect with the common man that, if he did have talent, would make him a star.

He used to be further left in his youth but got turned off by the hard left, as he says here. Blair was one of the main people pushing for action on Kosovo so sadly without him, that’s not stopped. #18: Heard Around The World Britain did not go fascist, unlike many other European nations. If we had, it would have eventually ended - but as with #2, once you’ve opened that bottle, the genie isn’t going back in. (You could also be sure America would back a right-wing post-fascist government over a socialist one) We’ve seen time and again that when certain governments get into power in certain countries, they may not last long.

Part of the inspiration was the Gambia, where the recent election had ended in the incumbent ignoring the result and the winning party have to flee abroad to get aid from the African Union.

Paisley as in the notorious Reverend Iain Paisley, Creasy as in Labour’s Stella Creasy, and Labour heavyweight Aneurin Bevan was from Wales.

#19: Big Boy’s Rules Britain is a big nation that’s not as big as it once was and ones to be bigger again. That compulsion to be big won’t go away. As noted before, Suez was what did us in as an imperial power - and made it clear Europe was out, the US and USSR were in. But militarily, it almost worked. A bit of extra time and we’d have won. And if we’d won, we wouldn’t care about the murkiness and the morality. #20: It’ll Be Alright On The Night Writtem very shortly before the vote. Simple diversion: Brexit does not happen. Everything follows on from there. To keep things as unclear as they seemed in our time, I arranged for both Tories and Labour to have weak, unpopular leaders - both seen as shifty. In hindsight, I’ve set up Labour to be stuffed unless it gets a coalition deal and I, like many, overestimated the third party vote collapse.

[aion-rsa]

Gillen Earns His License to Kill with James Bond: Service

Kieron Gillen has written comics starring some of Marvel’s most iconic characters, and penned books starring some of the “Star Wars” universe’s greatest heroes and villains. This May, the British writer will add another beloved pop culture character to his bibliography with the release of “James Bond: Service” from Dynamite Entertainment.

RELATED: Kieron Gillen, Antonio Fuso Enlist With James Bond: Service

The tale, which pits 007 against an assassin out to reshape what Britain is and its place in the world, is different from Bond’s past exploits in comics; rather than unfolding over the course of several issues, the story is told as a self-contained, 48-page one-shot. CBR spoke with Gillen about the challenge of telling a Bond story in such a concise format, the book’s meditation on Britain and its history, and the real world museum that will serve as a backdrop for “Service’s” action set pieces.

CBR: When we’ve talked before you mentioned that these days your interests as a creator lay primarily in projects that you’ve been involved in building from the ground floor up. I’m guessing though that when you’re give a chance to work on James Bond, a pop culture icon who’s beloved worldwide yet still uniquely British, it’s a different story, correct?

Kieron Gillen: Yes. There are two sides of it in fact. It’s true I’m generally not interested in much more work for hire projects at the moment. I’m focused on stuff that I’m already embedded with. I’ve wanted to work with Nick Barrucci and Dynamite for years though. We get along really well, but we’ve just never managed to find the time to work together.

EXCLUSIVE: Art from “James Bond: Service” by Antonio Fuso

So it was like, “We know you’ve got a lot going on, but how about doing a one-off James Bond story?” I told them, “Yes!” It was a chance to play with Dynamite and an icon! To use an old metaphor from Warren Ellis it’s like a chance to do a cover song. Here’s Kieron Gillen doing a four minute pop song of Bond. There’s something profoundly satisfying about it. It’s like, “Here’s my version of a song that’s been sung for a very long time.”

What’s your experience with Bond as a fan? Do you remember your first Bond film or book?

What a good question. The first Bond I read was “From Russia With Love.” It had a yellow cover, and I got it out of the library back in what must have been my early teens.

The first image of Bond I remember seeing was the poster for “Octopussy.” Bond was just one of those things that was always there. As a kid, I had very strong memories of Bond film characters like Jaws. “Moonraker” was also in my head as well.

What’s your sense of Bond and the things he deals with as a “blunt instrument” in the modern world of espionage, terrorism and global crime?

You kind of summed it up, but this is book Bond, so we actually lean harder into those things. He’s a very blunt instrument, and the story I’m doing is kind of an interrogation of that; both Bond as an instrument, and Britain as an instrument.

This is a story that looks over the tail end of Britain’s imperial history and where MI-6 came from. So it kind of harkens back to World War II. In fact there are whole scenes set at the British Imperial War Museum. So it’s a way for me to say, “Let’s talk about Bond. Let’s talk about British Intelligence. Let’s talk about empire and what Britain means anyway.” That’s all the stuff that runs through it.

This story also involves the relationship between Britain and the United States. As both countries are dealing with some complex and controversial political issues right now, are those elements part of your story?

I had to tweak my story structure a little. When I pitched this story, I was working off the assumption of a Hillary Clinton victory, and I had to tweak it anyway! [Laughs] This story idea came between Brexit and Trump’s election.

The tweaks were small and mainly required removing things that were suddenly much more pointed than required. The lines I wrote had a completely different resonance in a Trump presidency than a Clinton presidency.

EXCLUSIVE: Art from “James Bond: Service” by Antonio Fuso

The story kind of starts with the idea that Britain is less useful to America now as an ally. Because Post Brexit it arguably has less connections.

The other interesting element of your story is the fact that it’s a one-off and most people experience a Bond narrative as long form stories like movies, novels, and multi issue comic storylines. What’s it like writing a Bond story as a longer one-shot?

It’s tricky because as you say we’re so used to the idea of the novel or an hour and half to two hour movie. That’s a certain level of structure. So there’s so many things I have to throw out. I haven’t got space to do the cold open. At the same time though you want to cut to the fundamental Bondness of it. I wanted scenes with Moneypenny, M, and Q. I wanted those things percolating through it. I also wanted the dry moments.

The first thing I had about the story was essentially how it ends. It involves a bit of awful Realpolitik. I thought, “I’d like to see Bond doing that.” So there’s a Bond feel, but it’s a condensation of it. You want to see Bond doing spy stuff. You want to see him defiant and trapped, and you want to see him kill some dudes. Since there’s so much World War II stuff I thought, “If Bond doesn’t end up using a Sten Gun I’ve failed.”

[Laughs] Earlier you mentioned your story would have some scenes set at the British Imperial War Museum. What else can you tell us about Bond’s mission and the supporting characters he’ll run into and afoul of in “Service?”

The villain is a rogue agent who believes he’s defending Britain. He’s a lone terrorist and a lot of his methods and thought patterns harken back to World War II. I did some research into the history. He’s very much a defender of a certain idea of Britain and a lot of the book is a discussion of that.

In terms of the action set pieces, as I mentioned the Imperial War Museum figures prominently. [Laughs] That was part of the inspiration. I had bits and pieces, but I went for a walk around the War Museum, which is weird because it’s a place I go to look at for “Uber” as well. They actually had a spy exhibition going on. It had the history of MI-6 and the Secret Service. As I was wondering around the place I thought, “You know this would be a really good place for a shootout.” Because there were these amazing V-2 Rockets and all this other great old tech.

EXCLUSIVE: Art from “James Bond: Service” by Antonio Fuso

So if you’re going to write a story about history set it at a fucking museum. [Laughs] That’s one of the big draws about Bond. He gets to go to interesting places and shoot interesting people. This story has a lot of that and setting it at a museum gives it a really interesting vibe.

We also have some useful gadgets in the story, but nothing that’s too over the top. They’re part of the fun.

You’re working with Antonio Fuso who’s probably best known for his work on IDW’s G.I.Joe books. So it seems like action, espionage, and licensed characters are all in his wheelhouse. What do you enjoy most about Antonio’s art?

He’s clearly one of those artists who can convey the emotional harshness of the real world. So his work is not just real. It’s hyper real. I imagine he uses reference, but he also really stylizes his reference.

So he’d drawing a place but it’s all iconic, jagged, and modern. That’s a lot of what this book is about. The book would have a very different effect If we had a classic British Adventure style artist. You’d get these World War II aping scenes that almost appeared nostalgic. We have this stuff done in a more modern light and aware of the juxtaposition between the two. To me, that’s what the appeal is.

Finally, you’re a busy man, but if the opportunity presents itself would you be interested in returning to the world of Bond some day for more stories?

He’s a real interesting challenge. I’d have to think about what I wanted to say. With this project it was like, “Okay. I get to do one Bond story. What do I say?” So this is kind of a pure statement on it. You never know though… Never say never again! [Laughs]

“James Bond: Service” by Kieron Gillan and Antonio Fuso, arrives in May from Dynamite Entertainment.

EXCLUSIVE: Art from “James Bond: Service” by Antonio Fuso

The post Gillen Earns His License to Kill with James Bond: Service appeared first on CBR.

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[purplehairedwonder]

Hearts With(out) Chains Chapter 10

Fandom: One Piece Rating: PG-13 Pairings: Gen (eventual Lawlu) Words: 3233 Characters: Trafalgar Law, Monkey D. Luffy, Nico Robin, Usopp, Zoro, Nami, Franky, Smoker, Tashigi, Vergo, Heart Pirates Note: I’m taking my turn at the Corazon!Law AU because my brain won’t leave me alone until this is written down. Tags will be updated as the chapters come out.

The story title is based on the Ellie Goulding song “Hearts Without Chains.”

Summary: Law is reclaimed by the Family when he's 17 and, with Doflamingo holding the lives of his crew as collateral for his good behavior, eventually becomes the third Corazon. Years later, trapped by his impossible situation, Law finds a strange connection to Monkey D. Luffy, which offers a glimpse of something he's repeatedly had ripped away from him: hope.

Previous chapters: Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Read also at AO3 / FF.N

When Law ended the call, Bepo felt his heartrate picking up as he considered what his friend had said. Bepo didn’t know where Law was—he kept so much to himself anymore and had practically fled when he, Shachi, and Penguin had confronted him on his way out of Dressrosa—but Vergo following him from Dressrosa was bad news. Everyone in the Family knew there was bad blood between the first and current Corazons, though not everyone knew why.

Bepo did, having seen the aftermath of the wounds Vergo had caused when he and Law had first met. Shachi and Penguin were the only others—except Violet, Bepo supposed—in whom Law had confided that history.

What Bepo couldn’t figure out was why Doflamingo would believe Law had defected, considering his entire crew was still on Dressrosa; Law would never risk them like that. Doflamingo saw to it that Law would not (could not) betray him. But if Law was worried enough to warn them, Vergo must have some trump card.

Not for the first time, Bepo wished Law had brought backup on his mission, whether it was him, Shachi, and Penguin or any of the other Hearts. Bepo’s captain was too willing to go at it alone when he didn’t have to—and now he was in trouble because of it. All the Hearts could do was be his backup in Dressrosa, waiting for his return and whatever that might bring.

Still, as Bepo scoured the Hearts’ rooms and the most likely hang out spots around the palace for his nakama, a part of him was lighter in relief. The Law on the other end of the Den Den Mushi had sounded familiar; he’d sounded like Bepo’s captain and best friend, who Bepo hadn’t heard in two years. Law had locked himself away since Shachi lost his arm, drowning in guilt and refusing all attempts to bring him out of his self-made prison. It had pained them all to watch helplessly as he pulled away, becoming a shadow of himself in a misguided effort to protect them.

But Bepo had known that his best friend—strong, brave, and loyal—was still in there, under all the guilt and pain.

And he’d been right.

Bepo’s best friend had been the one to call his nakama in the middle of a mission to warn them of potential danger while promising to return for them despite the obvious danger doing so presented.

Bepo had missed Law, and now he’d do whatever he could as first mate to support his captain and look after their nakama.

It took about half an hour, but Bepo finally managed to gather his crewmates in Bepo’s room. He knew they wouldn’t be overheard here, as Law regularly checked the Hearts’ rooms for surveillance Den Den Mushi. The small bedroom was not designed to house twelve people, but the Hearts were used to confined spaces.

“What’s going on, Bepo?” Shachi asked once everyone had arrived and the door had been shut firmly behind them.

“Law called,” Bepo replied. He refused to use the title the Family used for Law when speaking only among the Hearts. He was also not surprised by the concern that his pronouncement elicited.

“Is he okay?”

“Where is he?”

“What’s going on?”

Bepo held up a paw, and once his nakama had quieted, he relayed what Law had told him. Bepo knew frustratingly little about his captain’s situation, so when his nakama burst into questions, Bepo had no answers for them. No, he didn’t know where Law was, though he must be close because he’d only left that morning. No, he didn’t know what Law’s mission was or why Vergo was there. No, no, no, he didn’t know.

“He said he worried Vergo would tell Doflamingo he’d failed or defected,” Bepo reminded his nakama. “He didn’t know that Vergo did for sure. But he wants us to be careful in case he did.”

“Would Doflamingo believe Vergo about this?” Jean Bart asked, looking at the crew who’d been around the Family longest.

Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo exchanged glances and shrugged. Doflamingo’s moods were impossible to predict.

“Vergo is Doflamingo’s most trusted agent,” Penguin said. The intimacy of that relationship was common knowledge within the Family. “But Doflamingo also knows about the bad blood between him and Law.”

“He must also know Law left all of us here,” Shachi added. “He knows Law wouldn’t risk us.”

“Then what are we missing?” Ikkaku asked, glancing at Bepo. “What had Law so worried about Vergo lying?”

There was no answer to that. But Bepo had heard the worry in Law’s voice and the seriousness in his warning. Whatever Law was keeping to himself must be quite persuasive.

“What do we do now?” Uni asked.

“Head for the Tang,” Clione muttered.

“We can’t act like we know anything is wrong,” Penguin said, ignoring him. “We’d raise suspicions and make Law look guilty otherwise.”

“But we need to keep an eye on each other,” Shachi added.

Bepo nodded. This is what he had promised Law; they would take care of themselves, so Law didn’t have to worry about them in addition to Vergo and whatever his mission was.

“Stay close,” Bepo said. The Hearts had their own wing of the palace, complete with common area, kitchen, and training rooms, so they didn’t often need to leave; the isolation suited them just fine since they, being loyal to Law rather than Doflamingo, felt out of place from the rest of the Family. “And if you need to leave, take a buddy.”

Normally, someone would have cracked a joke about the buddy system, but the concern on the air was heavy enough to stay even Shachi’s tongue. Instead, everyone nodded in response. They would take no chances; they’d seen what happened to traitors to the Donquixote Family. There was nothing to be done other than stay on their toes and wait to hear from their captain.

-----

Law entered the lab the same way he had when he’d first arrived, Shambling through the back entrance into the darkened hallway. He headed for the control room, unsure of what he would find. He thought his bootsteps echoed more loudly than he remembered from a few hours earlier, but he knew he was just imagining it. He tightened his grip on Kikoku and kept walking until he saw light.

Once he and Straw Hat had shaken on their agreement to team up, Nico Robin had returned Kikoku, the nodachi suddenly appearing in Law’s vision as a disembodied hand offered her to him. Law managed to suppress a surprised flinch and took the blade with a nod to the woman, who smiled at him in that unsettling way of hers. Still, a feeling of calm had settled over him with the return of Kikoku’s familiar presence; she was an old friend, after all.

Between Law and the Straw Hats, they had two separate goals on Punk Hazard: stop Vergo and save the children. Law wasn’t particularly concerned with the second goal, but the Straw Hats were set on it and Law would do what he needed to in order to help his nakama.

That put Vergo, Caesar, Monet, and Caesar’s men in their way. G-5 was a wildcard. Though the Marines had entered the lab with the other half of the Straw Hats, there was no telling how long that tenuous alliance would last, especially with Vergo on the island.

Law had no way of knowing if Vergo had called Doffy yet, though he had to operate on the assumption that he had; anything else would only get him—and his crew—killed faster. As for whether Vergo had shown his face in the lab, that was another story. While Caesar and Monet would be friendly to Vergo, Law also knew that the vice admiral would go out of his way to avoid blowing his cover with the Marines. The other man was of most use to Doffy in his elevated position among the Marines and wouldn’t blow fifteen years of undercover work just for his grudge against Law. With that in mind, it was entirely possible Vergo was remaining hidden and waiting for his chance to capture Law and bring him back in shackles to Dressrosa without being seen.

Knowing the importance of doing recon before setting any plan in motion, Law had convinced the Straw Hats to let him go back to the lab alone and see where he stood and see what he could find out about Vergo and the rest of the Straw Hats. They’d been hesitant, but Law had held firm that it made the most sense for him to go on his own.

“What if Vergo did out you?” Black Leg asked. “You’d be a sitting duck by yourself.”

“I can handle Vergo,” Law replied. Now that he wasn’t hindered by Seastone anyway.

“But what about all the other guys?” Straw Hat asked. “You shouldn’t go alone.”

“It’ll raise more suspicion if we’re together,” Law countered.

“But if you need help—”

“What about a Den Den Mushi?” Long Nose interrupted. Everyone turned to look at him, and he shrugged uncomfortably but kept speaking. “If he,” he said, jerking his head at Law, “calls our ship’s Den Den Mushi and leaves the line open, we can hear what’s going on.”

“And we can come if Torao needs us!” Straw Hat concluded, satisfied. “Let’s do it,” he said, pumping his fist.

Law had rolled his eyes, but that was how he’d ended up with his Den Den Mushi’s line open to the Straw Hats’ as it sat in his coat pocket. He’d warned Straw Hat not to be noisy on the other end of the line or he’d blow Law’s cover, and the others had promised to keep him quiet. (Law hadn’t been particularly reassured but didn’t have much choice but to continue anyway.) The Straw Hats were stationed outside the lab out of surveillance range, listening as Law entered the control room.

Law blinked as he stepped inside, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the bright light before glancing around. The room appeared empty. Where were Caesar and Monet? It looked like he’d need to head further into the lab.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Den Den Mushi. He opened his mouth to update the Straw Hats on what he’d found, but a familiar voice cut him off.

“Corazon? What the hell are you doing here?”

Law’s gaze followed the voice to the far wall, and he blinked in surprise at a large cage partially hidden in the shadows. He didn’t remember that being there before, but he hadn’t studied the room carefully upon his arrival either. He pocketed the snail and meandered over to the cage, raising an eyebrow when he saw what was inside.

Or, rather, who was inside.

Smoker was the one who had spoken. His eyes were narrowed as he eyed Law from his prone position, chained with what was undoubtedly Seastone chain.

“How’d you get here?” the swordswoman growled at Law from next to her boss.

“Where’s Luffy?” the cat burglar demanded.

Law simply watched the group, considering. Smoker, his second, the cat burglar, Zoro, and the cyborg had apparently all been captured by Caesar and were left chained in this cage. That left the tanuki and skeleton as well as the remaining G-5 soldiers somewhere in the base. He was considering what Caesar might want with them and what this meant for Vergo’s position when the cat burglar interrupted his thoughts.

“Say something, would you?” she sneered when Law remained quiet. “What did you do to Luffy?”

“Nothing,” Law replied, turning toward her. Though he could see why she would assume he had. “We…” he began, considering how to describe what had happened, “came to an agreement.”

“What kind of agreement?” Zoro asked, his one-eyed gazing piercing. He didn’t sound as disbelieving as the cat burglar did, though his attention was focused fully on Law now.

“Was that Nami and Zoro?”

Everyone started at the sound of Straw Hat’s muffled voice coming from Law’s pocket.

“Luffy?” the cat burglar called.

Law sighed and pulled the Den Den Mushi from his pocket. “Your crew seems to have gotten themselves captured, Straw Hat-ya,” Law informed him.

“What?” Straw Hat yelped. “Are you guys okay? We’re coming!”

“Wait, Luffy!” Long Nose interrupted. “What’s going on there, Torao? Is that guy there?”

“Torao?” the swordswoman asked, confused.

Law ignored her. “There was no one in the lab except your captured friends,” he said toward the snail. He looked back to the prisoners. “What happened?”

“Caesar,” Smoker growled.

“Is that Smokey?” Straw Hat asked.

“He did something to air when we confronted him about the children,” the vice admiral explained. “Woke up here after that.”

“What about Monet?” Law asked. “The woman,” he clarified when the others looked at him blankly.

“Brook and I were fighting her before I blacked out,” Zoro said.

“Whatever the clown did to the air probably didn’t affect him since he’s a skeleton,” the cat burglar said thoughtfully. “No lungs.”

Law knew Monet was dangerous, having gone on numerous missions with her before she’d been sent to Punk Hazard, so if the skeleton could keep her occupied while they took care of Vergo, that would be helpful.

“Where’s the tanuki?” Law asked.

“He’s a reindeer,” Zoro and the cat burglar replied, along with some garbled voices from the Den Den Mushi.

Law rolled his eyes. “Whatever. He’s not here with you.”

“He was looking for the lab to find out what the clown had done to the children,” the swordswoman said. “They must not have found him yet.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you know what they’re doing to the children?”

Law shrugged, uninterested. “No.”

“You’re Donquixote’s second, you must know everything that’s going on,” Smoker countered.

“You may be surprised to know that I don’t have intimate knowledge of every project Doflamingo has going on,” Law countered coolly. The fact was, Doffy simply had too many ongoing schemes for any one executive to know all about. They all had specific projects they oversaw for Doffy, and Punk Hazard was Vergo’s. Law knew the general outline of the SAD manufacturing on the island, but that was about it.

“You still haven’t answered what kind of agreement you and Luffy came to,” Zoro interrupted.

Law turned back to him, but it was Straw Hat who answered over the open line. “We’re going to help Torao save his nakama from Mingo!”

“What?” the cat burglar sputtered.

Zoro narrowed his eye. “What are you talking about, Luffy?”

There was some shuffling on the other end of the line before Nico Robin spoke up. “One of Doflamingo’s agents is on the island and is threatening Corazon and his crew. Luffy has decided he wants to help.”

“Why?” the cat burglar demanded, glaring at Law. “He tried to kill us. He works for a man experimenting on kids.”

Looks like that had stopped bothering Law a long time ago, so he simply returned her look evenly.

“But he doesn’t want to,” Straw Hat said. “Torao’s a good guy!”

“Luffy—” Zoro started, but his captain cut him off.

“He saved me, Zoro.”

There was some meaning in those words that Law didn’t fully comprehend, but Zoro apparently did, his mouth snapping shut. He closed his eye, leaned back against the cell wall, and nodded grudgingly. “Fine,” he grumbled.

The cat burglar looked at him in disbelief. “You’re just going to go along with this?” she demanded. She looked like she could have smacked him if she hadn’t been bound.

It seemed the cat burglar was the member of the crew with the ounce of common sense Law had been wondering about.

“He’s the captain, witch,”

Zoro commented without opening his eye.

She huffed. “Luffy, he’ll betray you.”

“Nope,” Straw Hat replied. “He won’t.”

The cat burglar eyed Law suspiciously. “How can you be so sure?”

“As of now,” Law said before Straw Hat could speak, “our goals align. It’s in the best interest of me and my nakama not to betray you all.”

“How reassuring,” she sneered.

“Nami.”

She looked back at the Den Den Mushi. “Luffy—”

“Do you trust me, Nami?”

She startled at that. “Of course.”

“Then trust me. Please.”

After a long moment, she sighed and nodded, the tension in her frame deflating. “Fine.”

Even the cat burglar, it seemed, could be swayed by the will of her captain.

The Will of D., Law couldn’t help but think.

“Now what, Torao?” Straw Hat asked.

Rather than answer, Law dropped the snail back into his pocket then held his hand up and opened a Room large enough to encompass the cage. He unsheathed Kikoku and sliced the bars open. The sound was finally enough to wake the cyborg, who startled into consciousness. He yelped at the sight of Law above them, sword in hand, but the cat burglar murmured something to him, and he quieted down.

Law stepped inside, and, with three quick slices, three sets of chains fell to the ground as Law freed the Straw Hats. They pushed themselves to their feet and, stretching their cramped muscles, filed out past Law. For his part, Law eyed Smoker and the captain.

“Now, what to do with the two of you?”

Smoker glowered at Law while the swordswoman watched him warily. As far as Law was concerned, they could sit here and rot, but as a fellow vice admiral, Smoker could be good leverage against Vergo, if the bastard showed his face. Anything that made things more complicated for Vergo was a good move in Law’s book. That didn’t mean he couldn’t make them sweat a bit first, though.

“Go ahead and kill us, pirate,” Smoker sneered. “Finish what you started earlier. See what happens to your boss when it gets out that his second killed a vice admiral.”

Law decided not to mention he’d been sent to Punk Hazard to kill Smoker in the first place.

“No!” the swordswoman said. “Please, let us go.”

“Tashigi,” Smoker hissed. “Don’t beg for your life from a pirate! Where’s your pride?”

But rather than be cowed, she glared right back at him. “There are innocent children on this island that need help. It’s our duty to rescue them, so if begging for my life will help me save those children, then I’ll gladly do it!”

Law was grudgingly impressed with her resolve. “It seems she’s smarter than you, White Chase-ya.” Smoker growled wordlessly at Law, but Law pressed on. “Your presence on the island is, ironically, useful to me now, so I’m willing to let you go. On one condition.”

“What’s that?” Smoker demanded.

“Not a word of this alliance between myself and the Straw Hats to anyone. If it gets out, I will come find you.”

“Fine,” the swordswoman agreed in her boss’s place. “Now let us go.”

“Alliance?” a new voice said.

Law stiffened. Shit. He turned to see Vergo standing in the doorway to the front entrance of the room.

“Doffy didn’t believe me before that you’re a traitor, but now he’ll have it in your own words, Law.”

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