#because I refuse to fight a war for someone who will voluntarily kill his own friends in cold blood.“)

[wayfinderships]

It's over for you all on the day that I improve my writing abilities enough to write f/o letters-

[whirlybirdwhat]

The strawhats dont know that Jimbe shares the other half of Luffys scar.

Word Count: 2,239

The Straw Hats hadn’t expected it, even as they traced inked lines on newspapers, old and faded with time, watched the news and clips of Marineford, brought by an old enemy’s hands.

They knew their captain would be scarred – saw it in the newspaper, the way his face broke with his brother’s body in his arms, saw it in bloody bandages inked with 3D2Y.

They just –

They didn’t know it would be like this.

Luffy’s scar is a red thing, a bloody thing. It’s roughly healed, clearly gone without proper care beyond the initial wrap, and it lays directly over their captain’s chest. An X, cruel and digging into his skin.

(Legends state that Joyboy, the first adventurer, carved an X on to Raftel. That the poneglyphs are his signature, the X that marks all treasure.

Below this X lies their captain’s heart, burned and flayed by the first of a dog.

It is a treasure that should have never been marked.)

He wears it openly, proudly, as if this X was not in the same place of the wound that killed his brother, as if his hand did not reach up to scratch at it, rest on it, hold it when he stared at the horizon. They have had a day to get used to but still –

Still it is a shock, fresh and unwanted.

(Scars have meaning, and scars have purpose. Zoro has two on his ankles and one on his front, two earned in learning, and one in battle. Another is on his eye, a price paid for being a student who aims to take down his teacher. Nami has scars, covered by blue ink, scars that freed her, scars that saved her. Usopp has nicks on his hand, scars in odd places from trying to repair a dying ship, from fighting his captain.

Lessons learned, purposed gained, willingly, voluntarily.

Luffy’s is nothing like that. )

It stares at them, taunts them, bright and red, a reminder that they weren’t there when Luffy was always there for all of them, wasn’t there when he needed them most, as much as it is a reminder of how Luffy’s brother died in his arms, in a war that should have never been.

(Luffy has scars – he heals fast, but not enough to cover burns from molten gold or holes from warlord’s hooks. But nothing is as vibrant as this one.)

But –

Luffy is here.

Luffy is happy. He smiles, bright and fearless, even if there are new shadows in his eyes and more quiet moments then there used to be. He is still just as strong, stronger even, if more protective of his crew. He’s Luffy – their captain, and their future king.

They weren’t there for him, and he doesn’t care if they weren’t because he’s glad they’re safe but –

Jimbe! Luff cries with joy, when they set a course for fishman island, He saved me!

Someone was.

-

Fishman island is a bright, happy place. The sun shines even here, and now, with Hordy and Vander Decken gone, the people shine as well. Joyful, smiling faces against scales and skin, teeth sharp or smooth, are all directed to their princess – now revealed to them – and to the pirates that saved them. There’s cruelty in corners, but not here.

Not now.

(Children run along the sea floor in Straw Hats, calling out attack names and harboring no prejudice.

Later, years later, there will be legends about a man in a straw hat, and joy written on all their faces – cruelty nowhere to be found. A beginning is here – one of hope.)

Not with Luffy lying on Jimbe’s side, bandaged and with his crew surrounding him. The party thrown by King Neptune echoes dimly in the background, melding gently with the chattering of his crew around him. Zoro sleeping on the ground by Luffy, Chopper atop of him, Usopp and Sanji murmuring together as they eat, the rest of the crew standing around, gazing at their captain who has given so much for them – who has just returned to them.

(They move in groups, now, and when Luffy left the party to talk to Jimbe the rest of them followed. It’s been far too long since they’ve been together and they are reluctant to part from each other.

Never again, they whisper, never again.)

Jimbe is new to them but not, there when they weren’t. He’s comfortable with Luffy, even if he is surprised when Luffy slumps against his side, curling under his arm to sleep away his injuries. There’s a terrible sort of fondness on his face as he looks at their Captain, one they all know is reflected on their own faces.

Luffy – he saves people. More than just in body, but in spirit, taking their dreams and shouldering them on his own until they are strong enough to carry themselves. Selfishly selfless, forcing people to rise and chase what every pirate holds dear.

A dream.

Jimbe hasn’t said his yet, but he’ll get there if Luffy has to drag him there kicking and screaming like he’s done the rest of them.

Though… his eyes hold nothing but devotion as he stares at the Straw Hat’s captain, so it’s more than likely he’ll just follow Luffy.

All the way to Raftel.

Luffy utters a quiet snore, burrowing close into Jimbe, bandages falling and revealing a reddened scar, and suddenly the Straw Hats find themselves with a purpose here.

But like in all things, Luffy is the one to make the first move. The way he has tugged on Jimbe’s kimono, has pulled it to the side, displaying the tattoo of the Sun Pirates, red and vibrant and –

A mass of scar tissue, burned and dark against blue scales, in the same shape as their captain’s.

It’s like the world goes quiet as Jimbe readjusts.

Like another weight has been added to the shoulders of those who love Straw Hat Luffy but weren’t there when he needed them most. Like chains, like nails down the throat, a horrible, awful realization that at Marineford, it hadn’t just been Ace who took a hit for their captain.

Jimbe had too.

He doesn’t talk about it, doesn’t seem to notice the way every Straw Hat has paled or gone wide eyed or slacked jawed (for those without visible skin or eyes.) He just quietly adjusts Luffy, hand ghosting over the scar on his chest, and settles back down.

Nami swallows, throat sick. “Jimbe?” She asks, knowing that he’ll answer her if no one else. “You were at Marineford, right?”

(Even in his sleep, slumbering away, Luffy winces at the name.)

Jimbe is quiet for a beat, then – “Aye. And Impel Down.”

“And afterwards,” Robin says smoothly, eyes bright with the knowledge of a historian who scoured every source for information about her captain.

Jimbe nods. “And afterwards, until Rayleigh took over.”

Everything. He was here for everything.

“Then...” Nami swallows and blinks back her tears. “You were with Luffy when A-“ His name feels forbidden. Taboo. “When his brother died.”

“Aye.” Jimbe’s words are soft as he lays a hand on Luffy’s shoulder, gently calming him from the twist his face takes, even asleep. “I was.”

Nami wants to ask what happens. She wants to know, wants to hold her captain, wants to say It’s okay, wants to know what hurt him so he will never hurt again, and Jimbe can give her these answers but –

The past doesn’t matter aboard their ship of dreams. Luffy had not listened to her story, not until she wanted to tell him herself. He had freed her from her chains, took her by the hand and led her to the horizon that she could map all her own.

Her throat closes up when she thinks about trying to learn his hurts, when he knew not to bother her own.

She can’t do that.

She can’t.

Instead, she lets her lips remain loyally closed as she watches the way Jimbe cradles their captain, as if he was the most precious thing he could think of.

(And really this man – who had conquered gods and armies and kings, yet still smiled so gently at his nakama and the sea breeze – he is.)

But Jimbe speaks anyway, and it’s not a betrayal of loyalty because he was there, when none of them were.

“I knew Ace, before Marineford.” They all hide flinches at the name. Jimbe gives them a somber gaze, and moves on. “We battled, before he joined Whitebeard’s crew and afterwards were friends. I refused to fight in Marineford for his sake, and was instead bound in Impel down, in the same cell as him. There… he told me about his little brother.” His gaze, impossibly, turns even softer. “He would just chatter on… smiling, in the face of death, as he told me about how reckless this boy was. How foolish. How loyal.” He tilts his head back up to the sky then. “He asked me to take care of his little brother.”

Nami’s heart stops. Usopp gasps. Sanji drops his plate. Chopper starts crying. Zoro’s eyes flash open for the first time.

(Under the hot sun of Alabasta, on a ship aboard a river, a man with freckles and a smile had asked, A little brother like that makes a big brother worry - Take care of him for me, okay?

They failed.)

“I failed,” Jimbe says, simply, but his words are draped in pain and agony, as his hand rises to his chest again, in a similar motion to what their captain has done, several times since they have reunited. “And that can never be forgiven.”

“But you were there,” Robin says, just as simple, her voice cracking. “And you saved our captain – didn’t you?”

Jimbe’s hand loosens its hold. “Ace had just died. We were running from Akainu and… I was holding Luffy. My own body was not enough to shield him – I failed-“

“Stop.” Zoro’s words silence the room, accept for Luffy, snoring gently into Jimbe’s side. “You were there, Jimbe.” He gets on to his knees, sword laying across his slap as Chopper is pushed to the side. “We were not. Thank you, for saving him.”

And then – Zoro, future world’s greatest swordsman, the pirate hunter, the demon – he bows, low to the ground, in a gesture of thanks.

It is brief, and quick, but Nami follows instantly, folding over in thanks as the rest of the crew does the same.

This is their crewmate – their future crewmate, from what he told Luffy – who was there when they were not, and took a blow for Luffy straight through his chest that would have otherwise been fatal.

Without Jimbe, their captain would not have had a chance to live.

What is a moment, bowed over, to something as insurmountable as that?

“I – please, do not bow to me!” Jimbe rushes to say, stuttering, eyes wide when Nami looks out. One hand is held out while the other, always protective, lays around Luffy’s shoulder. “It was my duty to do so, my responsibility, same as any of you. Luffy – he’s the man who will become King of the Pirates. To follow him is enough thanks.” His words ring loud. Ring true.

This is the man Luffy wanted on his crew for two years.

Nami can see why.

His faith – the faith that moves seas, moves mountains, changes the world, the faith in one straw hatted man – that’s the faith of all her crew,

She wasn’t sure about Jimbe.

(He had been the cause of so much of her pain – but he didn’t choose to hurt her. He would never, now.)

She is now.

Zoro, ever the leader, ever the loyal first mate, looks up and settles back down. It reminds Nami so much of Water 7, except here their entire crew is present, and here, they will not be fractured ever again.

(She will make sure that happens – by any means necessary.)

“It is our responsibility.” Zoro acknowledges. “We grew stronger over these past few years, on our captain’s orders – did you?”

His single eye pierces Jimbe, and Nami can see him swallow. But he stares back, unafraid, a true helmsman always following the course.

“Aye,” Jimbe says, and the tension is shattered by Luffy turning entirely over in his sleep, shirt shifting to display his scar, but his face entirely peaceful.

They ease back into their conversations, debts settled, crewmates thanked and now equals. It’ll be a few minutes before Luffy is up, running for adventure with them following on his heels but for now –

Now, the savior of their captains rests easy with Luffy by his side, and everything is okay.

(Later, months later, after Wano and after Whole Cake and after Emperors, Nami will see Luffy sit up at night as they all camp out in the aquarium. He will clutch his chest, and curl in on himself, deadly quiet and pale. His fingers will dig in, and dig in, and dig in, and all Nami will do is watch until –

Jimbe sits up and catches Luffy’s hand in his own, his other mirroring Luffy’s position and clutching at his own scar. He will say breathe, and Luffy will breathe, and –

Their captain will be strong, surrounded by those who were not there, and smiling, if dimly, at the one who was.

And, for once, matching scars won’t hurt as bad.)

[adifferenttime]

Honest Hearts: A Rough Rewrite

Hey! I’ve been working on an Honest Hearts rewrite-type-thing for a bit and figured I’d solicit feedback/assemble a post to store some of these ideas.

A detailed explanation of the premise is under the cut, but I’ve made this as a more interesting reintroduction to major locations, along with the characters who live there. I also have some lore consisting of letters, scripture, and holotapes that’s still in the early stages, along with a complete companion wheel for Salt-Upon-Wounds (he’ll follow you around for a little if you decide to help him out). Endings are now finished as well. I’m not planning on expanding this into a full mod, but I’m assembling everything in Twine so I can utilize branching dialogue and mimic skill checks.

I want to keep adding to and editing this because I’m having fun with it, so if you have any input, let me know!

Essentially, the story proceeds as written up until the point where Daniel sends you to either kill the White Legs or destroy their war totems. You quickly realize that their camp is deserted, at which point Salt-Upon-Wounds ambushes you, convo-locks you, and tells you that there’s an entirely different side to things here that you might not have considered.

Factions

The Mormons have established a theocracy in the Utah called Deseret, with New Jerusalem - what was once Salt Lake City - as its capital. Large numbers of them survived the initial apocalypse due to their pre-War focus on strong community ties and disaster prepping; over time, they have returned to the model of self-sufficient agrarianism that characterized the historical Mormon state of Deseret that existed in Utah in the 1800s. Their President, who wields supreme executive power, is also their Prophet. The Mormons believe he communes directly with God, but there’s some discontent in New Jerusalem over his hands-off approach to foreign policy and unwillingness to assemble a standing army. The Elders of the Priesthood are pushing him to allow for some kind of formal military to oppose what they see as revived versions of their ancestral enemies: America, Rome, and the “Lamanites” (this is what Mormons call Indigenous Americans; the “Lamanite” idea has historically been used as a justification for racism, and I’m reflecting that here because it’d be kind of heinous not to). In more than a few respects, Deseret serves as a mirror to the Legion and an exploration of the other side of the coin re: the tactics utilized by colonial empires to present themselves as legitimate while still claiming territory and steamrolling the opposition.

The White Legs are now more explicitly Shoshone, and I’m relying most heavily on the Timpanagos Band for names and historical inspiration (apparently the question of whether they’re Ute or Shoshone is pretty controversial, but I’m sticking with what the Timpanagos have said about it until someone corrects me). After migrating south in the wake of the Great War, the White Legs eventually settled in Ogden, about a day north of New Jerusalem. Initial interactions with the Mormons were friendly, but as New Jerusalem grew and its need for farmland and resources increased, tensions rose before culminating in open violence in around ‘76 or ‘77. Deseret’s party line is that the White Legs conducted a “raid” on one of their settlements and had to be driven away from Ogden; the White Legs claim the violence was not a raid, but a revenge killing after a Mormon killed a young man and was found not guilty by Mormon legal authorities (this is a theocracy, so “legal authorities” here can be understood as indistinct from “the church”). The Mormons established a new settlement on the ruins of Ogden, which they called New Canaan, and the White Legs fled to Salt Lake, where they have been dwindling in number ever since. Salt-Upon-Wounds’ plan to seek entry to the Legion is a last-ditch attempt to save his people from eradication when their neighbors and the land itself seems intent on killing them (not that that makes all the war crimes ok, which is a sentiment you’ll be able to express to his face if you engage him in conversation).

The Dead Horses are a pastoral society from out of Dead Horse Point, and are split almost down the middle along political lines. The more conservative, religious side opposes intervention in Zion. Graham desecrates the corpses of his enemies as an intimidation tactic, and because the Dead Horses’ religion is so eschatological and heavily focused on properly cleaning, preparing, and interring the dead, a big chunk of the religious leadership opposes him on that basis - they think his tactics are ungodly. They’re also worried that any Dead Horses who die in Zion and are interred there will be severed from their connection to Dead Horse Point and doomed to a separate, lonely afterlife. The younger, more progressive elements of the tribe are less traditionalist, sometimes less religious, and overall not as concerned about Graham’s treatment of the dead because of the potential benefit they might be able to derive from him. Follows-Chalk is their de facto leader, and while the Dead Horses don’t formally allocate political power, he’s among the most influential people in the informal tribal leadership. Most of the Dead Horses who’ve come to Zion have done so either because they support Follows-Chalk politically, or for practical reasons - namely, Graham’s access to a dizzying number of guns and his willingness to give them to anyone who’ll fight for him.

The Sorrows are now a terrace-farming agrarian society instead of hunter-gatherers (Zion has a lot of agricultural potential, and there’s already a few farming plots in the Sorrows camp you see in-game, so it’s not a huge departure from the canon). I’m keeping their Mexican heritage, but I’d like to give them some Ainu influences as well - partially for selfish reasons, but also because bears are extremely important to our culture and theology, which gels well with the elements of Sorrows culture and religion that appear in the canon. I’d like to keep the Survivalist because I like him, but I want to expand on their faith. One of the ways I’m doing that is by deciding they can still read English, even though they no longer speak it; it’s basically their equivalent of liturgical Latin. They’re also rigidly matriarchal and in contrast to the Dead Horses (who eschew formal political hierarchies) or the White Legs (who elect a chief who serves until he dies, is deposed, or voluntarily abdicates), leadership positions are allocated through matrilineal primogeniture; Waking Cloud inherited her position from her mother. Religious leadership, likewise, is only available to women. You’ll be able to talk to Waking Cloud about some of the ways this framework is incompatible with the Mormon perspective, and can appeal to her desire to retain power.

Characters

Canon Characters

Joshua Graham and Daniel are largely unaltered except through the addition of lore that gives insight into their cultures, motives, and pasts.

All three tribal leaders (Follows-Chalk, Waking Cloud, and Salt-Upon-Wounds) are either given new backstories, a different set of motives, or different approaches to one another/Graham and Daniel. They’re also explicitly leaders now - what power Graham and Daniel have, they derive from whichever tribal leader they’ve managed to attach themselves to. Of those three, I’m altering Waking Cloud the least and Salt-Upon-Wounds the most. Like I mentioned, I have a companion wheel for him so far and the bones of two other conversations - one, where you meet him for the first time, and the second, where you speak to him before the final battle. Will link as I finish them.

Original Characters

Each tribal leader now has a rival or right hand within their tribe so I can reflect the different ways the values of a specific community can express themselves.

Follows-Chalk’s primary rival among the Dead Horses is a man who refuses to tell you his name. That’s because using someone’s name in casual conversation is considered unspeakably rude, and the fact that Follows-Chalk is willing to share his own with you is, to Mysteriously Named Old Man Character, yet another sign of how disrespectful and laissez-faire Follows-Chalk is about their shared traditions. Old Man Character is suspicious of you initially, but if you speak to him more he starts to warm to you. The goal is to give you a sense that this he’s pretty xenophobic but for good reasons, and despite his political conflicts with Follows-Chalk, has a lot of love for him. He just wants what’s best for his family, and Follows-Chalk is part of that, even if Mysteriously Named Old Man Character thinks he’s making the wrong choices.

Kiiki is Salt-Upon-Wounds’ right-hand woman and intended as a contrast re: the approach to war and its costs. Salt-Upon-Wounds has done some horrible things and gets a fair bit of dialogue about that, but Kiiki is willing to go even further than he has with very little prompting. Her chief copes with what he’s done by trying to assure himself that the ends of war are worth the cost; Kiiki deals with it by trying to convince herself that the means weren't so bad, actually, and that anyone who isn’t nailing corpses to walls is being naive. All of that makes her sound pretty shitty, but she’s nowhere near as devoted to the idea of a Legion alliance as Salt-Upon-Wounds is. It only takes one very low Speech check to convince her that going Legion is a bad move, and one of the paths involves assassinating Salt-Upon-Wounds and installing her as the new leader as a way to stop the White Legs from joining Caesar. I haven’t added this path to the ending Twine because I’d like to finish Kiiki’s dialogues before I do that.

I’m replacing White Bird as the Sorrow’s spiritual leader with a woman named Imekanu. She’s incredibly old, savvy, and knowledgeable - she’s never been outside Zion, but has a store of books in English, Spanish, and Japanese that have allowed her some insight into what caused the war, if not the current state of the world. She’s also aware of the Survivalist’s origins - not because she’s entered any of his hideouts, but because she’s read over the scriptures and has correctly identified them as letters. Her perspective is that the Father in the Caves was a human being, but that doesn’t diminish his religious value. She sees him as analogous to the Buddha or a Catholic saint: human, sure, but still with access to some deeper truths about the purpose of man and the nature of human goodness. You’ll discover that this idea (that the Survivalist was a holy man rather than a literal god) is the most common perspective among the Sorrows, and you can talk to her about how this departs from Daniel’s perspective that the archetypal Father is divine, not human.

Quests

Each tribe has a specific quest that will either lower or bypass some of the penultimate checks that will determine your ending (people are more likely to believe what you’re telling them if you’ve already won their trust).

The Dead Horses: Joshua Graham has been putting the heads of the fallen up on pikes across Zion. The Dead Horses’ religion is deeply concerned with proper treatment of the deceased, and Graham’s decision to desecrate the corpses of his enemies goes against virtually everything they believe. The old man who won’t tell you his name asks you to take the heads off of the pikes and bury them deep in Zion, and to bring Follows-Chalk with you so you’ll have someone to tell you how to treat them properly. Over the course of the quest, Follows-Chalk will share some of his own beliefs about death, and you’ll have the opportunity to share your own. If you complete this quest without sabotaging it, Follows-Chalk will be willing to betray Graham to the White Legs before the final battle.

The Sorrows: This is basically just Ghost of She, but after defeating the Yao Guai you’ll discover a holotape revealing that the girl wasn’t killed by the bear, but by one of the murderers from Vault 22. Waking Cloud will speculate that maybe the Yao Guai wasn’t the ghost of the little girl at all but some other force that wanted to push you to discover the truth. If you wait until the end to tell Waking Cloud about the death of her husband, you’ll have to pass a Speech check of 75 to convince her you’re telling her the truth; completing this quest drops the check to 50.

The White Legs: Salt-Upon-Wounds will ask you to help him sabotage the Mormons’ preparations for the battle. If you help him with this, it’ll drop the Speech check for you to convince him to leave from 100 to 80. It’s not necessary at all to get the tribal confederacy ending, but a new note will appear in your inventory if you finish it and meet a couple other requirements (asking him certain questions, not attempting that one Speech check about religion, etc).

Endings

I’m trying to incorporate as much variety as possible, but there are three main ending paths: siding with the White Legs, siding with the other two tribes, and peace. The basic idea is that the outcome is predicated less on your direct intervention, and more on how other people act based on the facts they have available to them. Most of your influence is through your choices to hide or reveal key pieces of information, and the skill checks you need to access certain endings are less you convincing a character to do something and more convincing a character to believe you’re telling them the truth. There’s one major exception to this, it requires maxed Speech, and the ending it gives you is markedly bittersweet because you’re trying to get a guy to act against his own best interest. I’m writing all the endings up here, and will probably edit them as things change. The post where I explain them in more depth can be found here.

And that’s the story so far! Thank you for reading, and again: if there’s anything here you think is poorly-conceived, let me know. Thank you to @baelpenrose, who’s a grad student in the history of the American West, for helping me workshop a lot of this stuff. If you’ve got expert knowledge on any of the concepts I touch on or are personally a member of any of the groups I’m describing, please feel free to hmu: anon is on, and you’re always welcome to DM me. I’m just doing this for fun, but I still want it to be as not-shit as possible.

[hushedhands]

Challenge 79

For @tardis-23‘s voting challenge, I wrote a little retrospective of Lenore and Xavier’s relationship so far including a couple of dates. I wanted this challenge to feel like a chai latte: a little spicy, very sweet, and warm all the way down!

Lenore woke up the morning after the six month anniversary of her first date with Xavier to the sun peeking through the window shades on her eyes. She turned her head and there was Xay, fast asleep, absolutely glowing in the morning light. If she was any kind of artist, she’d memorize every detail and recreate it for him later because he had absolutely no idea what it was like to wake up next to him in the morning. Like waking up next to a work of art. She couldn’t wait for those brown eyes to flicker open and catch the morning light too.

Lenore usually woke up first so she often got to see him this way. It was fair though, because she was usually the first to sleep and that’s when Xavier got to stare at her in the moonlight. She’d never thought of herself as the kind of person who falls asleep first with someone else in the room, but Xavier had this way of making everything inside of her go quiet. Just like she made everything inside of him spark like electric currents. Electrons flowed from her to him and he flickered to life. Or so he said. Electrical engineers had a strange way of flirting.

Lenore stretched her back and rolled over so that her body was facing his. She slinked an arm over his waist under the warm covers and leaned forward, pressing her lips to his. She could feel the moment he returned to her from his dreams, when his lips responded and he slid his own hand across her bare stomach, teasing her ribs with the pad of his thumb.

“It’s early, Lenna.” he complained, but he wasn’t mad at her technique.

“Not that early, Xay.” she challenged. “We missed the sunrise.”

“Hmm.” Xavier didn’t seem to mind. He pulled her closer and kissed her again, completely uninterested in time.

Time was the thing Lenore was most interested in, though. “We have all day.” she murmured against his mouth. “I don’t want to miss it.”

“Who’s missing it?” he challenged her with a wicked smile.

It wasn’t very often that they got to spend a whole weekend together with no homework or exam revisions or projects to distract them from each other. Lenore refused to spend it all in bed, avoiding the sun. But she could afford to spend a little longer in bed.

Everything about the past six months had been a whirlwind for Lenore. She hadn’t thought she was the kind of girl to get a silly crush on a boy, but from the moment she’d laid eyes on Xavier for the first time, he’d dominated her thoughts in a way that would have dropped her grades at school if she hadn’t done something about it. He was just that cute.

And then they’d started talking. And then that crush had become more.

Before being swept off her feet by Xavier, Lenore thought that sappy, gooey, stupid love was only for movie characters or gorgeous wealthy, entitled princesses. Adrienne was the most likely candidate to experience it in real life, because her genetics were a mix of the most powerful man in the world and a woman who had basically won a beauty pageant to become his bride. Addy inherited looks and wealth, and anyone in the world would trip over themselves for the chance to date her. Fairytale love was her birthright, so no one was more surprised than Lenore when Addy’s relationship with her first boyfriend crashed and burned just as Lenore’s relationship with Xavier really caught fire.

She kept the details to herself to avoid rubbing salt in Addy’s wounded heart, but Lenore was stupidly, idiotically, unreasonably in love with this man, and she was done trying to fight it.

She still remembered their first date, getting to know one another over milkshakes. Lenore learned all about Xavier’s family: all astoundingly good people, it turned out.

“How do you not hate the royal family, I just don’t get it.” Lenore had asked, shaking her head. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like the Brat.”

Xavier had chuckled at Lenore’s nickname for the Princess of Illéa.

“But even so… you lost your dad so that she could have hers.”

Xavier had been asked this question before, but he paused to think it over so that he could give Lenore her own unique answer, “I only have one memory of my dad. Nothing special, we were just playing outside. I have a dozen memories of the King treating me and my mother like family. He’s a good man, and I’m proud of my father for saving his life. I don’t hate Princess Adrienne for that, it’s not her fault.”

“I guess hate was the wrong word… maybe resent? I mean, they get your tax dollars and your father? That’s too much.”

Xavier tried again, “Lenore, my dad guarded the King since he was still just a prince. He knew him and Queen America very well. The anniversary of my dad’s death is right before Addy’s birthday. Think about it… the rebel attack that killed my dad came just weeks before the queen gave birth. I’ve thought a lot about what my dad must have been thinking in the split second before he died, when he made the decision to sacrifice himself. Sure, I think he wanted the King, his friend, to have the chance to meet his child the way my dad got to meet me. But mostly, I believe he was thinking of me. I think he wanted King Maxon to be in charge of the country where I grew up, and to be able to teach his heir to be a kind and thoughtful ruler too. If it wasn’t for my dad, Addy’s life would be totally different and none of her brothers and sisters would exist. I don’t hate the royal family, my dad is the reason they’re alive today. They’re basically my responsibility, like plants or pets.” he’d laughed.  

Lenore rubbed her face to hide the fact that she was laughing too. When she emerged she decried, “I just don’t know that Brat-face is worth such a sacrifice.”

“Yes you do.” Xavier pushed back. “Even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t be your calculation to make. A lot of the men in my dad’s generation were drafted into the service. My dad volunteered. He wanted to dedicate his life to preserving the Illéan royal family because he believed in Prince Maxon. That’s exactly what he ended up doing, and you and I both know he was right. King Maxon is extraordinary.”

“We shouldn’t have a monarchy though.” Lenore had mumbled into her milkshake, and Xavier had laughed again.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” he’d rolled those gorgeous eyes at her, completely unfazed by her treason, and that was the moment she knew. She was in way over her head with this boy. 

But how could she make him like her as much as she liked him? She came back with her own story, “My big brother voluntarily enlisted, just like your dad.”

“Really?” she had his attention. Good.

“We haven’t been at war since he was just a baby, but my parents remember the terror of the New Asian war really well. They were so scared when he told them he was enlisting, but I wasn’t scared. I was furious. Why should some stupid man in a stupid golden hat get to decide on a whim where my brother goes and what kind of dangerous things he does? It was ridiculous. But it’s like you said, it wasn’t my calculation to make. Only he gets to decide what his life is worth and how he wants to spend it.”

“How is he?” Xavier asked. It was the kind of question that carried extra meaning between military families.

“Good. He loves it, the big old stupid head.” Lenore had grinned. “He’ll be home for a visit from Fort Eisner in a few months. If you play your cards right, maybe you’ll get to meet him.”

And Xavier played his cards very, very right.

Lenore met his mom over dinner one rainy night in Angeles, and then he joined Lenore for a road trip home to visit her family when her brother returned on leave. Had she ever expected to introduce her whole family to a boy she’d only been dating for a few months? No! 

But that wasn’t the only thing she’d underestimated: she’d had no idea how much she was going to hate her roommates by the end of the semester, so much that she spent almost every night at Xavier’s studio apartment just off of campus instead. Living with her boyfriend? Who was she??

And now that she was used to falling asleep in his arms and waking up next to him in the morning, she never wanted to go back.

She’d expected to spend her twenties and thirties single and focused on her career, and then maybe settle down with someone once she had met some of her other life goals. But if this boy was crazy enough to propose to her, Lenore knew without a doubt that she’d say yes. And she’d only known him for six months. What was wrong with her? 

By the time Xavier and Lenore made it out of bed, the restaurant they were going to was done selling breakfast. They settled for an early lunch before heading to the movie theater for a matinee showing of a classic science fiction movie. Lenore liked the metaphors about society and Xavier liked the special effects. Afterwards, they went grocery shopping for his apartment together and he promised to cook something extra special on the night she would have to stay late on campus to meet with her study group, so she’d have something to look forward to.

How could she tell him that he was what she looked forward to?

When the groceries were put away, they got in his car and went for a drive north, through the back roads, looking for changing leaves. Along the way they found a lookout with a perfect view of the sunset and all the bright little stars that burst forth after dusk. Lenore felt like one of those stars; she’d always been burning, but now she was bright.

She fell asleep on the ride home.

The ride back to his studio apartment.

The ride home.

She was ready for the morning, when she could wake up to that face again.

[randomfandomz]

GET READY FOR A LOT OF HUSK HEADCANNONS

Im not sorry–

Depressed as f*ck so he doesnt have the modivation to take care of himself

He drinks mainly to forget, and to releive stress

Not only that but he H A T E S water(not as much as Baxter does, but he still avoids it like the plauge)

He never showers until he absolutely has to

Like his fur is always matted and alchohol scented

And he thinks licking himself clean like non-demon cats do is absolutely out of the question, it is gross and undignified, he doesnt want to lick himself and water makes his fur feel heavy and cold and he w i l l argue with you about this

He hates having fur. He just hates it. Its hard to take care of and things get stuck in it, it gets caught in things and just hhhh h h h H H - NO

Will straight up refuse to shower until Charlie makes him

Everyone in the hotel knows about shower day

The day when they make Husk take a shower because e w g r o s s o l d m a n -

Baxter somewhat sympathizes with him about his hatred of water

Not like he actually shows it or does anything to help him though- because 1) Bax really doesnt give a flying f*ck, he just wants to do science and this doesnt concern science so he couldnt care less, and 2) He doesnt wanna speak up because s o c i a l a n x i e t y . S o c i a l i n t e r a c t i o n ? N o t h a n k y o u .

Hes literally a cat, so he hates water with a burning passion

Husk's self image is kinda... ehhhhhh- I mean, its not like he really is that bad looking, if anything he looks pretty damn cool, but he honestly finds himself pretty unattractive. "The fur and wings d o n t h e l p "

Doesnt care if you call him old unless youre trying to be offensive; Hes proud of his age and experience

Even though he acts like an old man(well, he kinda is, but-) hes actually younger than Baxter, Mimzy, Alastor, Angel, and Nifty

Only Vaggie and Crymini are younger than him

When Husk first arrived at the hotel he didnt really wanna interact with anyone; New places kind of stress him out, so it took a long time for him to adjust and not snap at every little thing

Dont get me wrong, hes still a pissy alchoholic^tm, but the anger is less serious/genuine and more just because thats how he is

Husk fought in the vietnam war, and he attempted(and failed) suicide multiple times after the war until he was eventually beaten to death outside of a bar

He turned to alchoholism and gambling as a coping mechanism

Husk suffers from PTSD(Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder), along with the obvious alchoholism and gambling addiction

He is very salty/sad that he's a war vet but died in a bar fight, and wouldn't be remembered for his fighting but rather for being beaten to death in a bar while trying to drink away the feelings he had about not being welcomed home because of the way the media portrayed him and his fellow soldiers that fought in Vietnam

Upon learning that Husk is a vietnam war vet(he mentioned it while drunk off his ass- more than usual) one patron who attended the hotel for a short time told him "Welcome home doc!". Husk was surprised, as he had come to terms with the idea that he would never be thanked or welcomed for his services, but he did make sure to be maybe a bit less pissy to that particular guest. He will never forget them. It meant more to him than he would like to admit.

((I can't really think of a better reason as to why Husk would bring it up, but having seen one or two instances of someone saying "welcome home" to Vietnam war vets, I really wanted to add this. The "Welcome home doc" thing was me referencing a specific instance of this ive seen. Im so sorry if I'm wrongly portraying this in anyway, I tried to do enough research first before typing this part out, but I just wanted to point out that I tried my best to be respectful while talking about the subject.))

Moving on- L A S E R P O I N T E R S

One time Angel was just casually messing around with a laser pointer, out of boredom or something

HUSK'S RESPONSE WAS IMMEDIATE

HE WILL CHASE THAT RED DOT TO THE ENDS OF THE GODDAMN EARTH

"That DAMN RED DOT where the FUCK did iT gO!?"

He HATES that he does this, but he really cannot help it

Being a cat demon, and being Husk, his hunt and kill instinct is through the roof(hunt and kill instinct is why cats chase laser pointers btw)

Was VERY pissy for the next few weeks after this incident

Husk will purr involuntarily whenever someone pets him or strokes his fur

He WILL murder anyone who attempts to pet him or make him purr without consent(*COUGH COUGH* ANGEL *COUGH*)

Same goes for the wings DO NOT TOUCH THE WINGS, JUST DONT-

In his room, Husk's bed is literally a mound of blankets and pillows inside a box

Even he needs to get warm and comfortable after a long day

He never lets anyone in his room

Like n e v e r

Angel snuck in one night- Husk's half asleep drunken a*s shoved him out and yelled at him, waking up practically all the hotel staff and a few guests

In his defense, Angel, upon seeing the sleeping Husk, scratched behind his ears. Husk started to purr, but then snapped to somewhat conciousness, and realized what the f*ck was going on-

Yes, Husk is v e r y defensive

Give him a compliment? He wont accept it under any circumstances. He will probably be flustered and claim that the other is either lying or just kissing up to him

"You know you dont have to kiss my a*s to ask me something, right? The fuck do you want?"

Charlie honestly finds his reaction to compliments very sad

Has a kind of "well ya didnt need to point it out" attitude towards insults

Alastor insults him with the worst names in the book? He accepts it and couldnt give less f*cks

Even if its someone either than Alastor insulting him, usually even if he acts offended and p*ssed off, somewhere in his mind he just accepts it

Usually Alastor is the one insulting him, but in a "best friend rights" kind of way

He likes being creative when it comes to colorful language

"Look out to my sea of f*cks, and see how it is barren"

Doesnt have a "soft spot" for kids like Angel, but doesnt mind lessening the swearing a bit and doing a few magic tricks for the occasional child that somehow found their way to the hotel

He HISSES

If Husk is hissing at you you better f*ckin rUN-

He usually refrains from hissing- its part of him rebelling against his cat-like nature, but if he is openly hissing at you it means he is at his wits-end and is honestly P * S S E D .

sERIOUSLY, F*CKING R U N -

Crymini has a blog documenting all the cat-like things Husk does, and she sometimes does the classic "THIS IS A HUSK IN ITS NATURAL HABITAT" or "LETS SEE HOW THE KITTY REACTS TO THIS NEXT THING" bit, and Husk honestly finds it insulting as f*ck

Crymini pranked Husk with a cucumber(you know how cats on the internet are terrified of them) and Husk was actually scared of it, and he ran up a f*cking tree and wouldnt come down for a solid hour, partly put of legitimate fear, and partly out of spite from seeing the slightly guilty look on Crymini's face after the first 20 minutes of him hiding up there

Being a cat demon, alchohol is actually slightly toxic to him, and he is prone to alchohol poisoning. He usually drinks beer, which has low ammount of ethanol(5-7%)[ethanol is what makes alchohol so toxic to cats]

Baxter has a spray bottle to use on Husk if he is being particularly stubborn or bothersome. Charlie sometimes uses her own spray bottle for similar purposes, but she usually says something like "Bad kitty! No!" Along with it to tease him. Husk finds it humiliating and hates when his fur is wet, so surprisingly the spray bottle thing usually works.

He is demi-panromantic and asexual

H A T E S being touched, like under any circumstances

"The last time I voluntarily made physical contact with another being was in 1970 and it was while I was loosing a bar fight. It was also the day I was beaten to death and setenced to hell."

Bonus:

Angel: Hey kitty~! Wanna cuddle~?

Husk: The last time I voluntarily made physical contact with another being was in 1970 and it was while I was loosing a bar fight.

Angel: Oh really? *snickers* And how'd that work out for ya'?

Husk: Well, it was also the day I was beaten to death and put in hell. So I dunno. You tell me.

[catgirlxox]

The Overlooked Reality of Being a Superhero's Significant Other

(Specifically, in the case of Ben 10)

"But I guess that's the deal when you decide to date a superhero." - Julie Yamamoto (Ultimate Alien - "Duped")

And this is the deal when you decide to be a superhero.

It is one thing to say that your significant other is a superhero, and it is another thing altogether to realize and accept exactly what that entails.  

First and foremost, something which has surprisingly been overlooked by many of Ben’s canon love interests is the fact that dating Ben 10 would mean that they would be agreeing to date someone who has chosen, voluntarily, to continue to make saving the world his priority. It goes unrecognised that Ben, since Alien Force, arguably even since the original series, he has chosen voluntarily to take all of the following factors and consequences into what should be his normal life. Regardless of whether it is assumed by some that he continues to be a hero for the thrill or in the interest of helping others, he has still chosen to deal with all of this. 

While the saying goes that, in every healthy relationship, both partners should sacrifice things for each other, it is almost impossible to equate any kind of sacrifice the girlfriend/significant other of a superhero can make for him in comparison to what he is voluntarily “sacrificing” everyday of his life. 

The Ultimate Alien episode “The Perfect Girlfriend” tries to handle this idea. The episode opens with Ben driving Julie to the airport, and before he can walk her up to the gate, Ben's car picks up a police report about a suspected hostage situation involving an alien criminal. The following is that report word for word:

“Ssserpent has escaped from prison...Police believe Ssserpent is holding a hostage. Negotiators are tying to reach him by phone. But how do you bargain with something like that?”

Immediately, as expected, and as indicated by Gwen’s attempt at hiding the situation from Ben so that it doesn’t get in the way of his relationship with Julie again, Ben decides to go handle it. Both Gwen and Julie are obviously upset with him for this decision. And, as I have stated multiple times when discussing these types of conflicting relationship situations, it effectively makes Ben look bad for choosing to deal with a serious call for help instead of continuing to spend time with his girlfriend.

Before I continue, I’d like to point out that we can not really balance the importance and urgency of a hostage situation and a tennis tournament. 

During this scene, Gwen also states that she could handle it instead. And, while I do not doubt that she absolutely should be able to, the last time Gwen and Kevin were up against Ssserpent in Alien Force’s “Vengeance of Vilgax” they were having a really hard time defeating him until Ben showed up. 

This only further encourages the idea that Ben has to ultimately find the solution to every problem, because, if something goes wrong, and he doesn’t stop it like they expect him to, it is automatically his fault no matter how many people are in charge of handling the situation. 

Whereas, in terms of his relationship with Julie, Ben’s decision to prioritize innocent lives which might be in danger as soon as he hears about a hostage situation, will not affect Julie’s freedom to live her life, which is what she seems to personally value the most in these types of conflicting scenarios. 

Julie: “My life is just as important as yours!” 

Returning to the episode plot, Julie, who, for the majority of this episode after the initial airport scene is actually Elena disguised as Julie, is shown “sacrificing” the things she enjoys for Ben so that their relationship would be “perfect.” 

Gwen brings up an interesting point about sacrifices within a relationship, challenging Elena-disguised-as-Julie’s point of view. 

Gwen: “I wanted to talk to you, about not going to Europe.”

Julie/Elena: “I already told you. It was an easy choice.” 

Gwen: “But it shouldn't have been.”

Julie/Elena: “Look. I love Ben. That’s all there is to it.” 

Gwen: “Fine. But that doesn’t mean you should make such a big sacrifice for him.”

Julie/Elena: “That’s what you do when you love somebody.”

Gwen: “No. You both make sacrifices for each other. What’s Ben giving up?” 

I understand where Gwen is coming from. In terms of her relationship with Kevin, they have both made sacrifices to be together, and, at this point, been through countless difficult situations which tested how far they were willing to go to stay together. Dating their former enemy, accepting their past, changing themselves for the better, and then watching each other struggle with their powers and private lives, respectively, just to name a few.

There are some people who are actually not in favour of how the build up of Gwevin was handled, or, according to them, lack thereof. Within the context of the universe they exist in however, the opportunity to form a strong connection with people who have taken you in and shown you a better way to live will have a profound effect one oneself, namely Kevin. And, just to state the obvious, one of those who helped him find a better place to be and heal was Gwen. 

Throughout Alien Force and Ultimate Alien, Ben, Gwen, and Kevin were not just a simple group of friends. They were team mates. They've been through life and death situations together. Gwen and Kevin’s bond comes out of the loyalty and strong friendship which they up kept while going through countless traumatic situations together. 

Unfortunately, this is not the same situation with Benlie.

When it comes to Ben and Julie, making these “sacrifices” for each other is not a common factor because of the disconnect and misunderstanding which divides and differentiates them. This is saddening to type because it could have absolutely brought them closer together if they could sympathize or empathize with each other, and, in turn, sacrifice things which would benefit their significant other. 

I don’t want to constantly put Julie on the spot, but I believe the “issues” she had within her relationship with Ben were unnecessarily made into a big deal. Just like us, the viewers of this show, she should perfectly capable of understanding a superhero’s reality. 

“Be careful, Ben” - Julie Yamamoto (”War of the Worlds” - Alien Force)

We were not directly there to experience what Ben has, however we can still sympathize or empathize with the human emotions he feels. Why else do we become so emotionally invested in a character such as Ben? 

You make those “sacrifices“ for another person out of the empathy or sympathy you feel for them. That is, by definition, love. And, in regards to being the significant other of a superhero, that empathy or sympathy should come out of an understanding of the things they have already sacrificed in order to obtain the title they have. Because, as I stated previously, it is difficult to equate any kind of sacrifice you can make for your significant other when their job may lead them to sacrifice their own young life in exchange for the lives of others. 

In regards to Ben, I would argue that part of what drives him to continue to try to help others is the fact that he feels empathy and sympathy for them. A superhero saves lives simply because he cares they they do not suffer. And, in order to care that others do not suffer, you must know what pain feels like. 

(”Back with a Vengeance” - Original Series)

By “pain”, I am referring to both the literal sense and the psychological sense. There have been moments in his life which have caused him either or both, and even in spite of this, he still chooses to go on with his perceived duty to be a hero so that he may prevent that kind of suffering from spreading to others. Painful moments like this would include alien criminals trying to cut his arm off, rip the watch out of his skin, or even having his family threatened to be killed. 

(”Max Out” - Alien Force)

Obviously, getting physically involved in these types of scenarios may even leave him with injuries, bruises, or scars, whether they be from fighting or potentially, in the hypothetical case that no amount of Azmuth’s ‘perfecting’ of the device can prevent it, from rapidly transforming. 

(”Showdown: Part 2″ - Omniverse)

And, I think there’s no question that anyone in Ben’s place could develop a level of PTSD, indicated by how Ben often responds when others are vulnerable to dangerous alien technology, for instance. Such as they were in the Alien Force episode “Pet Project”, where Ben refused to let his unarmed and inexperienced girlfriend go on a potentially fatal mission. 

Before I begin to explain the more serious aspects of this lifestyle which may be over looked for various reasons, I’d like to point out something Julie might have had an easier time understanding in terms of sacrifice, since, she very obviously wanted others to value her life and her tennis career.

Tennis is a sport which she is obviously very invested in and loves to play. In the first episode of Alien Force, Julie is shown approaching Ben after his Soccer match. This indicates they had something in common from the beginning - an interest in sports. 

However, since then, Soccer is something he has seemingly needed to give up when his hero work became a much bigger part of his life, and, subsequently, took up much more of his time. It is still probably something he enjoys, but he can no longer be a part of a soccer team. 

Unlike an alternate Ben, No Watch Ben, who was immediately shown playing soccer to indicate that he still had the time for it from his lack of hero responsibilities. I bring this up to show that it is also the little things which he has had to somewhat “give up” or “sacrifice” in the name of the universe’s safety. This is possibly why, when he does have “free time”, it results in him being quite invested in a video game or a movie because he finally has the chance to actually enjoy it. This kind of behaviour can be seen in pretty much every Ben 10 series. 

(”Pet Project” - Alien Force)

Perhaps the most notable instance was Omniverse’s “It’s a Mad Ben World.”

“Doors: locked. Privacy: ensured. Phone: off. Omnitrix Comm link: disabled. I must not be disturbed under any circumstances. The fate of the entire universe is at stake...

The Sumo Slammer’s Universe, that is. Ah, my first afternoon off in weeks. Nothing can possibly ruin it.” 

You know, the episode where Ben freed people from slavery and all he wanted was a little break from his demanding full time job?

It is easy to call him a “bad boyfriend” for being distracted with a video game while conveniently getting a call from his girlfriend, who is clearly upset his attention is not completely directed at her.

But did you ever consider what he might have been doing while his former girlfriend was supposedly enjoying her tennis career, and meeting new boys such as Hervé?

She seemed to want all of his attention. And, interestingly, even though many see Ben as someone who loves attention, he never really demanded much from her.

He let her be independent long enough for her to find someone new.

Julie: “I’ve been busy. Living my life and all.”

Someone like Ben probably would not even look at his work as something of a “sacrifice” because he is primarily motivated by the idea that it is what he has to do since it is the right thing to do. This is something he has believed from a young age. 

“You think I don’t know? When it’s hero time, if I mess up, somebody could die. From what you told me, if we mess up this time, everybody could die.”

“Maybe that’s too much to have in your head when you have to win. Maybe if I pretend everything’s a big joke, when the time comes, I’ll be able to do what I have to do.” - 10 year old Ben (Ultimate alien: “The Forge of Creation”)

Please realize that a ten year old boy thinks this is something he HAS TO DO.

Not “wants to.” Not “might be expected to.” 

He “has to.” 

Cartoons, such as Ben 10, created primarily for a younger audience, already slightly gloss over the more serious and scarring parts of this concept. While it is not ignored completely, realistic attributes and side effects of this reality such as graphic battle damage are not usually drawn in detail. One can only infer the trauma that is caused by many of the scenarios presented within the series. That is part of why it is so easy for younger, inexperienced, and uninformed viewers to point towards Ben and claim he is a “bad boyfriend” for not making Julie’s interest in tennis his first priority every single time. 

His “hero” persona is often made out to be fun, not serious. Even Ben himself claims that he “pretends everything is a big joke.” 

I would like to compare this to something more understandable in real life - being a military girlfriend. 

Just like a soldier, Ben is susceptible to unfortunate circumstances as a side effect of his job. Which, is important to mention because he doesn't even seem to like to call it his 'job' or his 'work.' To him, it is, more accurately, his lifestyle. This lifestyle often puts his own life on the line, as well as just his general mental and physical well being. He's very susceptible to injury, trauma, PTSD, and death. 

I would even argue that it is not entirely correct to compare him to only one soldier. He literally has the ability to be the entire army. And not just any army - a super powered, alien army. 

At the age of sixteen. 

"One man superhero team." - Professor Hokestar ("Have I got a Deal for You" - Omniverse) 

He could literally become multiple Echo Echoes, as shown in Ultimate Alien’s “Duped”, and then those individual Echo Echoes can turn into any other alien he has available to him...making quite literally, an army. 

Not to mention, as admirable as this work may be, and how easy he may make it look, that does not undermine the fact that it is still extremely dangerous and often demanding. Take Omniverse's pilot episode, "The More Things Change", for instance. 

The scene where we are shown our main trio chasing after Zombozo takes place while it is supposedly still night time. A little while later, we can see that the sun is starting to come up - it looks to be sunrise. Needless to say, another short time skip shows that it is now daytime. 

Does this imply that our heroes were up all night taking down bad guys? Or did they just get up before the sun? 

This is interesting because, as a number of other fans have speculated, it implies they might have irregular sleep schedules. The same kind of situation can be found throughout Alien Force and Ultimate alien as the series progresses, with many of the events taking place during the night while normal teenagers should be asleep. 

(”The Creature from Beyond” - Ultimate Alien)

Some have even speculated that Ben may have insomnia, possibly caused by nightmares, which, are a common side effect of PTSD - an unsurprising condition to have when this is the reality you live in. 

Throughout the rest of “The More Things Change”, Ben and Rook are shown searching for the "big bad" in charge of the recent attacks, and eventually are led to Psyphon, as well as his gang. A fight breaks out, where Ben and Rook split up taking on different opponents. 

Before I address what concerns me regarding Ben, I'd like to point out that Rook is not only armed with what seems to be quite the useful and tactile Plumber tool, but he is also wearing special armour. This isn't to say he can not be injured, but, it definitely adds some protection if he were to be in dire circumstances and unstable environments. 

Ben, very obviously, is armed with the Omnitrix - a very powerful device, one of, if not the most powerful in the Universe. However, throughout the previous events of this episode, there is a constant running gag where the Omnitrix doesn't give Ben the alien he wants. Regardless if this is his fault or not, keeping in mind this is actually a new Omnitrix and that it can still time out at this point, it makes his tool quite unreliable sometimes. And, unlike Rook, he does not wear any armour whatsoever in his human form. 

Here he is earlier, as Spidermonkey, alone, in a huge crater in the ground, which another building just fell down on top of, trying to fight Crabdozer (Zed as the Nemetrix alien).

Speaking of which, was sent after him with fatal intentions. 

Look. At. Those. Teeth.

They want to rip Ben’s face off. 

Without an alien transformation, he is barely protected from scenarios like this. (Following images from “A Jolt From the Past” and “Showdown”, respectively.)

Returning to the scene I would like to bring attention to, Psyphon effectively disables Ben's arm, as Armodrillo. 

Which, then leads Ben to throw himself into an electricity outlet, electrocuting himself to turn back to human so that he may prevent any damage potentially being caused by the out of control drill on his arm. 

This leaves him visibly disoriented and vulnerable for a minute while he is lying on the ground still recovering from being electrocuted. 

Psyphon can be shown preparing to shoot him again, now that he is human, but, this is also conveniently when Khyber's dog attacks him, and, once again, pins him to the wall.

My reasoning for including these examples is not to say that Ben 10 should somehow be seen as incompetent or weak, because that is not the case at all. 

My point is that being the girlfriend of someone who is expected to deal with situations such as these in his day to day life should include caring about how this would affect him emotionally and physically, regardless that he is capable of coming out of it alive. Just because he survives doesn’t mean he is unaffected.  

Can’t you see the look on his face in most of those screenshots?

Wouldn't it be nice if there was someone he could lean on and be vulnerable to, without having to fear them selfishly finding him guilty of not being there for them enough? 

Such as that which I have suggested in my earlier example, a military girlfriend is often expected to be their boyfriend’s “rock” - “someone you can always rely on to help and support you.” (source). 

If, even in spite of all I have already mentioned, you still insist that Ben neglected his girlfriend for some selfish reason, I’d like to remind you that he was shown trying to make it obvious that he notices and cares about how his responsibilities have affected her side of their relationship. 

Ben: It feels like I'm always running off somewhere, doesn’t it?

Julie: It’s starting to.

Ben: Can we get together tomorrow night? For sure?

Julie: I’d like that.

(”Revenge of the Swarm” - Ultimate Alien)

When lives are on the line, for him, it’s hero time no matter what. He is not only a solider in the war. He is the first, and expected to be the strongest, line of defence. He is, more often then not, the universe’s only hope. This is especially important to remember when there are often circumstances where his back up, namely The Plumbers, are rendered defenceless, such as in the scenario presented in the Omniverse two parter episode, “The Frogs of War.”

In that particular episode, the Incurseans decide to send Ben into space in order to get him off the planet, leaving Earth enslaved without a hero. 

Emperor Milleous: “I see you anywhere near this system, and I mean ANYWHERE, my mutated To'kustar pets destroy everyone and everything you ever cared about!” 

Max agrees to their terms only because he believes it will save Ben’s life.

It is quite sad to realize that Ben’s Grandpa Max has to worry about losing him at a young age since he is, quite literally, fighting wars at the age of sixteen. 

Max: “I already thought I’d lost you once today. At least this way, I’ll know you’re alive.” 

Max is referring to this explosion from earlier, which was caused by Ben and Rook crashing into an Incursean ship. 

To add to it, Ben is very adamant about helping to fight off the bad guys. Even if Max were to force him to stay out of a battle due to a malfunctioning Omnitrix, he won’t listen. You could see this as stubborn, but, for the universe which depends on him, he is always reliable. He seems to care more about stopping the threat than his own safety.

Or in other words, he never backs down. 

Ben: “I can’t let them win! I never let Vilgax win, or Aggregor! I've never backed down and I'm not about to back down now!”

I know from experience that it is one of the most heart shattering things in the world to watch grandparents bury their (far too young to be dead) grandchildren.They haven’t even been around that long, their life had only begun, but, unfortunately, it is already over. 

I don’t mean to make it seem as though we should pity him for all the things he has had to “give up” in order to be a full time superhero, but I do think it should be acknowledged, especially by the one we are going to call his significant other. 

Why? Because Ben’s love interests really wanted to make a point of the things they were supposedly giving up and undermining by being asked to value Ben’s reality.

“Try Harder! Not everything’s about you, Benjamin Tennyson! This is important to me!” - Kai Green (”The Secret of Dos Santos” - Omniverse)

When he chooses to prioritize saving the world from whatever threat may come it’s way, he is also saving the life of his supposed “significant other” because they are a part of that world and therefore they would be in danger as well. 

It would make no sense to consider it right to shun him for trying to make sure there is still a world in which he may continue to spend time with his significant other. 

[princeescaluswords]

Tragedy of the Good Boy

One of the things that attracts me to Scott McCall is how much I can relate to a particular burden his character carries throughout the seasons: the expectation that he has to be better than everyone else on the show.   All the heroic things that Scott does – and they’ve been listed out time and time again – are done consistently without expectation of reward and, in the end, most of them are actually done without reward.   In fact, his attempts to save people often cost him a lot in physical pain, emotional pain, and life opportunities.

Scott’s aware of this, yet he does it anyway because he’s the good boy.

The production starts out establishing his attitude when they introduce him.  He was dedicated to improving himself so he can make first line, but he wouldn’t blow off his best friend to do it.  He won Allison, not through sports prowess, but through kindness.  He offered her a pen when she needed one, and he comforted her when she hits a dog with her car.  His teachers were surprised at the drop in his grades and truancy. Melissa worried that his new behavior wasn’t like him.   Deaton said “You’re literally the least slacking kid in this city.”   He’s presented as a kid who doesn’t act out, even though he had a father who is obviously voluntarily absent from his life and a mother who worked ridiculous hours.  He got up to some hijinks, like playing ball in the house with Stiles, but he didn’t get into any serious trouble.  He’s responsible, he’s compassionate, and he’s moral.

We can reasonably assume these are part of the reason he rejects the idea repeatedly put forward by Peter, Chris, Derek, Gerard, and Deucalion – all the villains really – that he has to abandon this part of himself.   We can reasonably assume it’s why he tries to save Jackson and Lydia and Boyd and Isaac and all the other people he tries to save.  It’s who he is.    

But’s it’s also why he submits to letting Stiles make him his pet super-hero; why the only way he reacts to Derek is to employ him in defeating Gerard and then refuse to follow him after Derek has consistently hurt and betrayed him and tried to murder innocent people; why he doesn’t hold it against his mother when she refuses to talk to him for a week.   It’s why he only expresses his anger at Isaac for moving in on Allison after Isaac has moved into his house and his life when he’s consumed by the darkness of the Nemeton sacrifice.   It’s why he follows Liam into the tunnels under Beacon Hills after Liam nearly beat him to death and only expresses his anger about this terrible betrayal when white boys give him permission to do so.

Because he’s the good boy.   Good boys save people.  Good boys help people. Good boys stuff their fear and their anger down so they can be what everyone else needs rather than what they need.  It’s why he can try to stop Theo from falling for the Surgeon’s taunts even though Theo tried to destroy everything that Scott cherished and even takes a step forward to save Theo from Hell mere moments after Theo tried to kill him once again.

Why is this a tragedy? Because when someone is established as the good boy, the audience comes to expect them to be good, in the same way as when someone is established as a bad boy, the audience comes to expect him to be bad.  Derek feeling up Erica in the hospital isn’t taken as a sign of him being a sexual predator because Derek’s already a bad boy anyway.  After all, he’s been through the metaphorical ringer, so we’re supposed to give him a break. Yet Scott sitting on Allison’s roof to make sure she doesn’t get attacked by the alpha is stalking, because he’s a good boy.   Stiles lying to the entire pack about Donovan, sabotaging the investigation into who was taking the chimeras’ bodies, and allowing himself to be blackmailed by Theo wasn’t taken as a sign of selfish treachery, because Stiles was already a Bad Boy anyway.  After all, he was possessed and his mother died hating him.  Yet Scott not believing Stiles after catching Stiles’ lying to him is a sign of bad leadership and bad friendship, because Bad Boy Stiles can be flawed, but Good Boy Scott must be perfect.  

Fandom sorting these men into these categories is a tragedy because people don’t really work the way those categories require.   There is no biological factor that makes you morally gray, just as there’s no secret blessing from the universe that makes you effortlessly good.   All these things are choices – and sometimes characters make the good choice for which we should cheer, and sometimes characters make the bad choice for which we should hold them responsible. 

In my opinion, the production – I’m not sure whether they did this on purpose but hope springs eternal – focused on this as well.  The longer the show went on, the more they indicated the price of Scott being the good boy by portraying him as trapped by his own virtues.  Think about it: in 5B, there’s not even a single moment when any character wonders if the True Alpha is going to get back up and battle against people who’ve demonstrated that they can defeat him effortlessly.  There’s not a single scene where Scott ponders saying “Fuck it, let Sheriff ‘The Law is the Law until My Son is Involved’ Stilinski deal with the Dread Doctors, I’m moving to San Francisco.”  We get those moments like this for Stiles, for Malia, for Liam, for everyone, but never Scott.  His behavior is taken for granted by ever other character, and even by himself.

In Season 6, they don’t even bother to have Scott try to send Peter back to Eichen House or punch Theo in the throat a few times to balance things out.  In Season 6, there’s not even a moment where Scott contemplates going to UC Davis and letting the adults handle the Anuk-Ite.   Even more telling, not a single character really gives Scott’s future that much thought – Melissa tries half-heartedly in 6B, but she abandons that position as soon as humanly possible.   Malia gets to whine about going to France, and Liam gets to pout about not being able to handle things, yet Scott is not only there to fight the Ghost Riders and Monroe’s crusade, but he also has to give up his position as Lacrosse team captain to focus on his grades, like a Good Boy.  And in the end, giving it up was all for naught, because the show ends with him miserably fighting a war years after he’s graduated.

The worst scene ever is the one where Argent, of all people, goes to Melissa with an evaluation of his father’s plans in 6B, and Melissa – completely unrecognizable as a mother – scolds Argent for even suggesting that Scott’s life is worth more than fighting for a town that is turning against him.   She’d rather see him dead and in the ground than have Scott put himself first for even one second.  I mean, his life has already gone to shit by his 18th birthday, with torture, violation, betrayal, mutilation, a girlfriend murdered and a girlfriend lost, possible forever, so if he gets gunned down in the street like a dog, is it really a big deal?  The whole concept that Scott might have a choice about whether he wants to risk his life and future after everything else he’s done is simply not addressed.   Why should it be?

This is what happens to Good Boys.   If they make the correct choice, if they do what they should do, other people consider them boring, take them for granted, or even worse – when they finally do decide to do something for themselves, it’s seen as a betrayal.   Eventually, they’re not even given a choice; it’s simply what is.  Instead, they’re supposed to be good and do good in the background forever and ever, while the Bad Boys violently scheme or angst uselessly in the foreground.

[zoeology31]

On Star Wars: The Last Jedi

So I saw Star Wars last Sunday. Between critics bowing down to it and plenty of people on here mourning it’s train-wreck qualities, I was pretty apprehensive, but I wanted to at least see for myself.

The verdict: Most of the movie is a giant mess and I’m glad J.J. Abrams is coming back for IX, but it does pack a punch in some parts. Once my life gets a little less busy, I’ll probably join the growing number of fans and write a fix-it fic.

Major spoilers below. Seriously, I’m about to spoil pretty much everything.

I get that this movie was trying to comment on the hardships of war and how people have to keep their priorities straight and make sacrifices, but did they have to kill so many people? The bombers, all the X-wing pilots except for Poe, the Resistance leadership, everyone who wasn't on the main Resistance cruiser, half the transport vessels, and half the skimmer pilots? None of those were even a fair fight, because they couldn’t fire back. It was just slaughter, and it got painful to watch after a while. The deaths that had the most meaning were the individuals who directly chose to sacrifice their lives for the rebellion: Paige, Holdo, and Luke.

Speaking of fair fights, where were my iconic Star Wars battles? The only fighter-to-fighter combat was at the very beginning and ended with the bombers destroyed and Poe demoted. Rey spent more time fighting Luke than the actual main bad guys, and while her tag-team with Kylo Ren against the guards was cool, I couldn’t really enjoy it because I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. And of course Luke’s battle with Kylo Ren, while awesome, doesn’t really count.

A lot of moments felt unnecessary, if not extremely uncomfortable, and took away from the story, including: Rose electrocuting Finn (she could’ve just waved the taser in front of his face and let him explain the tracking situation, with the same overall result), the porgs, the pointless alien nuns, Luke milking the alien seal slug thing, Luke’s comment about Jakku being “pretty much nowhere”, Luke slapping Rey with a leaf, shirtless Kylo Ren in high-waisted pants, 90% of the shots of Kylo Ren looking sad, Rose and Finn (again) getting electrocuted for a parking violation, that opera alien at Canto Bight that looked like someone’s fetish, BB-9E, 75% of DJ, Hux slapping Finn with no consequence, BB-8 driving the AT-ST, Leia slapping Poe, Holdo saying “Godspeed”, Holdo stroking Poe’s face, that thing with Rey and the time dilation in the cave, Yoda’s weirdly corporeal Force ghost, the golden dice from the Falcon, Poe saying “you’re not dead”, that one dude tasting the salt on Crait, Rose kissing Finn, and the awkward introduction between Poe and Rey (weren’t they introduced at the end of TFA?).

What happened to the Force in this movie? The whole Force bond idea felt incredibly shoehorned, and since we don’t find out that Snoke was behind it until much later, we’re expected to believe Rey and Kylo Ren share some “special connection” because plot. It did wind up being pretty cool when Luke used it at the end to trick Kylo Ren, but I’m not clear on why he died immediately afterwards. Was it too draining? Did Kylo Ren running his projection through have a physical effect on him? Did he just voluntarily stop existing? And if Force ghosts can summon lightning, what’s stopping them from intervening further in the world of the living? Why hasn’t Anakin just showed up and killed Kylo Ren? Then of course there’s Leia floating through space despite never demonstrating any abilities beyond emotion sensing before.

Kylo Ren. I am unimpressed with the movie’s repeated attempts to create sympathy for him to the detriment of other characters. Your uncle drawing a lightsaber on you is not in any way an excuse to try to kill him, burn down his temple, and murder all his students who refused to join you. Besides, doesn’t this contradict canon in Bloodline or something? He’s still just as whiny, manipulative, and flat-out evil as in TFA, but now he’s responsible for even more deaths (remember, he fired the shot that blew up the X-wing hangar).

How are we supposed to buy Rey suddenly believing “there’s still good in him” or whatever when Kylo Ren killed her father figure, gravely injured her best friend, tortured her, and is in the process of racking up an even higher body count? TFA Rey is too smart for that, and she would never compromise her new family for the tiniest chance of redeeming a grown man who’s clearly made his choice and whom she owes nothing to. Luke didn’t start trying to redeem Vader until after he learned Vader was his father, what excuse does Rey have? Not only does Rey Nobody make no sense in the context of this movie, it ignores all the parallels and setup of TFA and turns Rey from the rightful Skywalker heir to some random girl who is arbitrarily powerful and arbitrarily the main character.

Because Rian Johnson lives under the delusion that Kylo Ren is somehow the male lead, Finn was forced into an extraneous sideplot and romance that repeated his character arc from TFA. Between getting electrocuted twice, falling into racist stereotypes at the casino, needing Rose to explain everything to him, getting slapped by Space Hitler, and being cheated out of a full-length, emotionally emphasized fight scene against his lifelong oppressor, Finn generally suffers some of the worst treatment of any character in the movie. The casino plot was tedious and its moral felt forced, and the undercover scene aboard the Star Destroyer was disappointingly short and ended in failure. Being sidelined meant Finn wasn’t written as wildly out of character as Rey or Poe, and John Boyega’s acting ensured we still saw the Finn we all know and love, but it was still an incredible disservice to his character.

Even though he got quite bit more screentime, Poe was almost a different character in this movie than in TFA. In the movie, comics, and tie-in novels, he had very clear strengths and flaws: charismatic, selfless, loyal, and an excellent strategist, but too willing to sacrifice himself and not good at thinking long-term. This is all thrown out the window in TLJ, making Poe instead a stereotypical Latino hothead who’s reckless ideas cost dozens of lives and who constantly battles his (white female) superiors. When he mutinies, we’re expected to agree with Holdo and be happy when she lectures him about hope and honorable retreats, but Holdo’s smarmy attitude and refusal to tell Poe the plan makes him seem like the reasonable one. Not only was Poe’s arc a lesson he didn’t need to learn, it was insulting, frustrating to watch, and poorly executed.

The three new characters were unnecessary and stretched the story too thin. DJ was practically useless and his verbal tics were more annoying than quirky. His only role was to show the grey morality of the war, but it would’ve been smoother for Finn to just observe and make his own comments, rather than have DJ and Rose give clunky exposition. Rose was a sweetheart, but her character was completely static and acted more as Finn’s morality pet than an independent person. Her tasering Finn at the start and kissing him at the end was probably supposed to be character development, but both felt forced. Holdo was a terrible leader and difficult to root for until her death scene, which was incredible but would’ve been more impactful with a character we had time to get attached to.

There were some things I liked about the movie. The cinematography was gorgeous when sets were properly lit, especially on Ach-To and Crait, and it had some truly stunning scenes, like Holdo wrecking the First Order fleet, Luke seeing the twin suns on Tatooine, and Rey lifting the rocks for the Resistance. The main cast was as attractive as ever, helped by some top-notch costuming. Despite exchanging zero words, Rey and Finn’s strong relationship was clear as day, and their reunion was fantastic. When Rey swooped in on the Falcon to give the skimmers cover fire and Finn cheered, that was my “I’m watching Star Wars” moment.

Luke’s arc was comparatively decent; he was too surly and irreverent at the beginning, but his criticisms of the old Jedi order made sense and his stand against Kylo Ren was the closest this movie got to iconic. Luke and Leia’s reunion was one of the most emotionally touching moments, and it doesn’t surprise me that Carrie Fisher wrote it. I liked the ending; everyone was together and getting along, the Resistance was safe aboard the Falcon, and Rey literally shut the door in Kylo Ren’s face. Even with the weird sympathy track, it’s clear he won’t be redeemed and it’ll be interesting to see him as the main villain.

[lykegenia]

The Things We Hide Ch. 26

Chapter 1 on AO3 This chapter on AO3 Masterpost here

Appa was careful to stay in the sunlit part of the courtyard as the people around him argued about supplies. The sun was already sinking, and with the thin mountain air, the shadows fell heavily enough to shiver through even the thick fur of a sky bison. He watched with interest as Sokka matched crates and wrapped packages to a list written in his own unpolished handwriting, while Aang sifted through the pile and complained about unnecessary weight.

“Appa isn’t as young as he used to be,” he said. “And don’t forget he’s carrying all of us. Is everything here really necessary?”

“Of course it is,” came the reply. “We’re going into enemy territory without backup – with the avatar, in case you’ve forgotten that blue arrow on your forehead is a giant ‘here come get me’ to any soldiers we run into.”

“Sifu Hotman has a plan for when we get to the Fire Nation – and hey, all of this food is meat!” He pouted and stuck out his tongue. “And why do we need these canvas sheets?”

“I agree with Twinkle Toes on that one,” Toph called from where she was resting on one of Appa’s giant forefeet. “You know I can just earthbend shelters for us wherever we go. But don’t skimp on the blankets, it gets cold flying up wherever.”

Sokka preened. “Blankets were first thing on the list.”

Up above them, Zuko watched the exchange with arms folded, careful to stay a step back from the edge of the balcony so his face remained in shadow and out of sight. He counted seven sets of guards at unobtrusive places around the walls, and there would be more in the tower rooms and in the training fields below, every one within easy reach should the avatar find himself in danger. The observation was an idle one. Without the advantage of surprise, and with the avatar’s inner circle of companions surrounding him at almost all waking hours of the day, Zuko had little opportunity to follow through on his original plan. Instead, he had to stand by while they prepared for an assault on his home, a journey with the ironic twist that they would travel there voluntarily, and without him. His uncle had mentioned in a sly, sidelong kind of way that Zuko might join them, but that idea stank of desperation more than anything.

If I had said yes, I might have earned their trust, and then delivered them all to my father without having to restrain the avatar at all.

He huffed as the thought passed through his head, and watched the fog of his breath as it curled and dissipated into the late afternoon air. At the very least, such a ploy would get him away from the mountain cold, but it was a level he refused to sink to. In that respect at least, he could satisfy himself that he still had more integrity than Katara.

As if summoned by his thoughts, her step sounded behind him, along with a slower, heavier tread that made no effort to hide itself.

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh said. “Have you made your decision?”

Zuko glanced to him, and then to the young woman at his side, taking in the closed, wary expression in her eyes as he suppressed the tick in his jaw. “I’m not going to help you betray my people,” he growled.

Katara scoffed. “We’re trying to help your people, and everyone else on the face of the world. I’d have thought you of all people would understand that.” When he didn’t respond, she turned to Iroh with a shrug. “I wanted to believe you, but it looks like we’re on our own. I told you he wouldn’t help us.”

“It would appear so,” the old man replied with a stroke of his beard. “In that case, I will go to make sure you have everything for your journey.”

He bowed low enough for his joints to crack and retreated down the stairs towards the courtyard, leaving an awkward and painfully obvious silence in his wake. Zuko watched him out of sight, mostly to delay the moment he would have to look at Katara, who had sidled over to the balcony edge and was surveying the scene between Sokka and the avatar.

“I didn’t know he was your brother,” he said, wincing as he caught the note of accusation in his voice. “You told me your brother was dead.”

“I told you I lost him,” she answered. “I never said he was dead. I didn’t lie.”

“Lies by omission are still lies,” he snapped. “Do you really think I’d trust you enough to travel with you on the back of some flying beast? Even if I did agree with your plan, I’m not that much of a fool.”

Katara’s hand moved towards him, a reflexive motion she halted halfway to his arm, but he still refused to look at her.

“Zuko, please. I know you care. You helped people as the Blue Spirit, you risked your life to save Haku from Keijo – and you saved my life, more than once, when you didn’t know who I was.” She paused, frowned, and when she spoke again her voice was softer, lost in regret. “You have to know that kind of suffering can only end once the old cycle is broken.”

“I came here to capture the avatar, not to be your pawn,” he snarled.

There was sorrow in her gaze when she glanced to his scar, but it vanished in a blaze of indignation. “Well, the avatar is leaving,” she reminded him. “And unless you’re leaving with us, you’re stuck here. As a prisoner. Doing nothing to help anyone.”

He took her point with a scowl. His fingers drummed against his folded arms as he tried to frame a counter-argument that didn’t sound petulant or childish, and when that failed, he huffed a breath, unready and unwilling to answer. The Katara he had known before might have indulged his silence and waited, but this one, the real one, only clucked her tongue and turned to follow Iroh down to the courtyard. The space between them stretched like a fraying rope.

“How much of it was part of your plan?”

She turned on the top step. “What do you mean?”

“Getting close to me, getting me to lo– like you,” he clarified, without looking at her. “Did you mean to use me right from the beginning or did you make it up as you went along? What were you going to do when you got what you wanted?”

With a sigh, she leaned against the pillar at her back, pulling her arms around herself in a defensive gesture as she frowned at the flagstones between them. “It doesn’t matter now,” she muttered, oblivious to the way he clenched his fist to keep his bending under control. “But that means it doesn’t matter if I tell you everything.”

He waited. He watched her fidget as she worked out where to begin.

“We knew from the beginning that the Fire Lord would use Sozin’s Comet to destroy us.” Her gaze drifted over the courtyard. “And we knew we couldn’t stand against it, so instead, we decided to turn the situation to our advantage. But we didn’t foresee everything, and I – Ozai killed my mother, right in front of me, because she took my place as the Sea-wolf to trick him. It’s my fault she’s dead, no matter what Sokka and my father say.”

Zuko’s fingers tightened further, this time to suppress the urge to comfort the sadness in her voice, the slump of her shoulders. His scowl pulled at the edges of his scar, but it softened as she continued, revealing with each word how the Southern Tribe planned for her to be a war prisoner to distract from Sokka’s efforts to undermine Fire Nation naval control, and to place herself and a corps of the most elite waterbenders within easy distance of their enemy, hidden in plain sight and ready to strike him down.

“If that was your plan,” Zuko asked, “why didn’t you help Jet when he tried to assassinate my father?”

She shook her head. “What would that have accomplished? With Ozai dead, someone else would have stepped into the power vacuum with the same goals – or there would have been anarchy. Our plan was always to end the war. The reason we waited was so we could have the resources in place to take control, not just rampage through the streets like – well.” She swallowed, once more reliving memories. “When I first got to the Caldera, I wanted nothing more than to tear the whole place down.”

“I remember.”

“I forgot you were there that night,” she murmured, almost to herself. “I couldn’t let those ships leave, not when I knew they were going to attack my people. I would have destroyed it all… but then I met ordinary people like Haku and I realised the problem wasn’t what I thought it was. I got the idea for the Painted Lady from you, actually, from that festival that passed us in the market that day, but I just wanted to help – I had no idea what they would turn it into, and you were never meant to be part of it.”

His mouth curled at the corners. “You took advantage of me, so I wouldn’t suspect you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Is that all you have to say?” he demanded. “You string me along for months, trick me into thinking you cared about me, steal from me, then waltz off and leave me to look like a traitor, and you’re sorry?”

“What, was I supposed to just wait quietly in that gilded cage to be arrested and then executed?” she shot back.

“I could have protected you!”

“From the Fire Lord? I remember last time you stood aside because you thought keeping your secret was more important than standing up to him, and that didn’t get you very far in the end, did it?” She had stepped towards him, unconsciously sunk into a bending stance with her hand hovering over the cap of the waterskin she always kept at her waist. The raw emotion that fractured the air between them bubbled up from a shared place they had spent too long ignoring, a mutual hurt that had always been inevitable while they were on opposing sides, but had proven too wrapped up in guilt to simply discard. They were both too similar, too stubborn, too wounded by the other’s betrayal for anything else. He had to fight not to shrink away from her glare.

Breathing hard, Katara forced her shoulders to relax, and her gaze slid once more to the scar that covered Zuko’s left eye. “Did you think I wouldn’t figure it out?” she asked him softly. “I know burns. That one goes to the bone, and it’s precise, which means whoever did that to you put effort into it. There’s only one person I know cruel enough who could lay hands on the Crown Prince of the Fire Nation without him fighting back.”

The pity choked him worse than her anger. The cool certainty in her eyes, the fact that she had guessed what had happened and kept quiet as he raged through shame and anger and pain right before her eyes, left him speechless. But she wasn’t done yet.

“I shouldn’t have left you on that island. I shouldn’t have gotten so close to you. On that day, in the thunderstorm, I shouldn’t have kissed you. I could say I was tired and homesick and – and cold, but it doesn’t change things. You were there and you were just so…”

“What?” he asked, sharply.

She shrugged. “Honourable.”

Anger closed across his features. He stalked forward to tower over her, leaning down so his ruined face hovered mere inches from hers. “You don’t know the meaning of that word,” he snarled.

“Zuko…”

He pushed past her, retreating into the shadowed recess of the corridor, and didn’t turn when she called his name again. The twists and turns of the temple passed him by, the maze as familiar to him now as his own home, with the White Lotus guards scrambling out of his way just as the palace soldiers used to do as he climbed the levels to the cramped space that had been given to him as a bedroom. There was barely enough spare floor to turn around, but with every passing moment his anger surged higher, threatening to swallow him, and his only outlet was to pace like a caged tiger-deer.

How dare she? How dare she cause his misery and then cast blame elsewhere, and then pour salt on the wound by acting sorry for it? He needed her to be arrogant, condescending, remorseless for the part she played, because how else could he hate her? Who else was there to hate?

There’s only one person who could do this to you.

He roared to get her voice out of his head. Pacing wasn’t enough. He turned and smashed his fist into the wall by the window, relishing the pain that shot up his arm, the instant of power as his muscles pulled taut, until that power bled out of him and he sagged, folding forward so that his forehead pressed against cool stone. Every time he closed his eyes, he relived the horror of his banishment, the iron grip on his chin, the firelight blinding bright as it closed upon his face, the stench of cooking flesh. He had believed so strongly that Katara was to blame, had forced himself to believe it, and yet now, his brushed a hand over his shoulder, where a thin white scar still marred his skin from the first night he had fought with the Painted Lady. But she had betrayed him, and he had betrayed his father, and his father had betrayed his people.

The thoughts went round and round in his head, while outside, the last light faded from the sky.

He came to them in the middle of dinner. While the rest of the compound tended to eat in the large refectory under a mural of dancing sky bison, the avatar and his company liked to dine under the stars, with Appa’s bulk blocking the wind and a large fire to keep them warm as they laughed and told each other stories. The avatar made friends easily, always playing peacemaker, and at that moment he was mediating a dispute between Toph and the Kyoshi warrior, Suki.

“The Boulder is a chump. He cried like a little kid when I beat him. And then there’s the way he always refers to himself in the third person. Weird.”

“He’s entertaining.”

“And his form is very good.”

“Cha, maybe if he really was a boulder. Hey, Sparky.”

Conversation around the fire died as they turned to follow the blind girl’s sightless gaze into the shadows. With heat crawling up the back of his neck, Zuko stepped into the ring of light, his carefully prepared speech of a moment before completely lost as five pairs of eyes pinned him in place. Four sets of eyes, he corrected himself – Katara had merely glanced to him and now was carefully staring into the fire, every fibre of her body tense with her hands curled into fists around her knees.

“Hi,” he said. “Um.”

The avatar smiled at him brightly. “Are you coming to join us?”

“I… If you’re going to try to take down the Fire Lord, you’ll need to have a plan for Azula as well,” he blurted. “She was named heir when I was – when I left – and she won’t be happy to see any of you.”

Had it been the wrong thing to say? The avatar and his companions passed glances to each other, suppressing looks of amusement, and the silence stretched. Katara did not look up from the fire.

“You know,” Sokka ventured, leaning back against one of Appa’s large toes, “Usually we start with introductions. You’re not used to talking to normal people, are you?”

A few months ago, such a statement, delivered so casually, might have made his temper flare, but now all the only feeling he could muster was fatigue. “I… never had much practice, no,” he admitted.

“Have you eaten?” Suki asked. “There’s plenty left.”

He barely had chance to stutter out a response before they were shuffling aside to make room, pulling out a bowl of rice topped with a dollop of tofu cubes in a rich, savoury sauce and handing it to him with rough bamboo chopsticks – nothing like the fine, painted implements he was used to at the palace.

“It’s not half bad,” Sokka offered as Zuko raised the first mouthful to his lips. “Not quite sea prunes, and there’s no meat, but it’s filling.”

“I’ve tried sea prunes,” came the careful reply. “They go well with spiced fish.”

“Doesn’t seem like the kind of thing that would appeal to Fire Nation royalty.”

“Well…”

“The Fire Lord served them at the New Year banquet,” Katara interrupted, before Zuko could work out a way to avoid offending his new allies. “He served a lot of things from a lot of different places. It’s not a big deal.”

But her cheeks darkened in the firelight. She pulled a lock of hair over her shoulder and fiddled with the ends, parting it into three strands for a braid so she wouldn’t have to look at the others, and when she glanced up and caught Zuko’s gaze, she turned away with a frown. He was glad. Sullenness he knew how to deal with; her shame and guilt gave him a vindictive pleasure, and if he had to squash the memories of that banquet, the lightness in his chest as they passed notes to each other, then all the better. He might ally himself with his father’s enemies for the good of his people, but he would not be fooled by her again.

[alwaysaprille]

anyway...

I took a screenshot because L/xa’s name wasn’t properly edited. I originally wasn’t going to answer this because it’s obviously meant to incite drama, but it occurred to me that I’ve never actually answered this question on my blog at all and I do want to have this discussion. 

(This will be the first and only time I answer an ask like this as an FYI). This post is long, over 4000 words with this intro, so I’ve put it under the cut. It contains helpful bolding and italics as well as pictorial representation as further canon evidence. Happy reading!!!

1st: Let’s be clear that there was no love lost between L/xa and certain (relatively large) sections of her people. In fact, the show started planting the seeds of this in the episode following her betrayal of the Arkadians:

Lincoln: “How could you do this?”

Indra: “I swore loyalty to this commander.”

Lincoln: “She left our allies to be slaughtered. She dishonors us all.”

Indra: “And your disobedience dishonors you.”

Lincoln: “Why are you here, Indra?”

Indra: “Because you are also Trikru.”

Lincoln: “I can't just let her die.”

Indra: “Under the terms of the truce, the lands surrounding the mountain are forbidden. If you violate this, L/xa will never take you back. Octavia made her choice. Now you make yours.”

Episode 2x16 (Blood Must Have Blood Pt. 2)-This is the scene where Indra frees Lincoln so that he may go back and help the Arkadians in their fight. Lincoln (who most of your fandom seems to agree was a pretty decent guy) very clearly states L/xa dishonors (which here is a verb that means to bring shame or disgrace on) their way of life. He leaves his Clan behind even knowing that he will never again be accepted by his people, to return and help his Arkadian allies. 

His leaving in 2x16 is directly responsible for the kill order ( Bellamy in 3x01: “We all do, but until the Commander (here a proper noun always referring to L/xa-as it has since Season 1) agrees to lift the kill order on you, you're more trouble than you're worth.”) that we find L/xa has placed on him in Season 3. 

Next we head into Episode 3x01 (Wanheda, Pt 1) for a specific conversation between Indra, Monty, Kane and Bellamy:

Bellamy: “We know there’s a kill order. Your people are big on those.”

Indra: “It's not a kill order. It's a bounty. Clarke's a symbol. She's known as Wanheda... the Commander of Death.”

 Bellamy: “The Ice Nation guys we killed asked about Wanheda. They're looking for Clarke. Why?”

Indra: “My people believe that when you kill someone, you get their power. Kill Wanheda, and you command death.”

Kane: “She's just one girl.”

Indra:  “So was the Commander. What Clarke did at Mount Weather weakened her. The Ice Nation is emboldened. Their queen wants Clarke's power. If her people believe she has it, she'll break the coalition and start a war. I can't let that happen.” This conversation (which, again, happens in the first episode of the Season) very clearly establishes that L/xa is the one searching for Clarke (Something that’s even further established when we discover that Roan-the first bounty hunter we meet-was working for L/xa the entire time).It also establishes the reason why L/xa was looking for Clarke-she needed to keep Clarke, or more accurately Wanheda, out of the Ice Nation’s hands. 

And why, exactly did the Ice Nation want Clarke? It isn’t-as I’m sure some of you believe-because of some sort of poetic parallel between Clarke and Costia. Remember, as of right now, no one knows that Clarke and L/xa ever had any romantic inclinations towards one another, because L/xa betrayed her hours after their first kiss (which they shared alone in a tent). Nia only wanted to get her hands on Clarke to kill her in the hopes that she would gain enough power to break the coalition (which-may I point out-could only be accomplished by having L/xa voluntarily abdicate or by killing her.) Now why, if Nia wanted L/xa to step down, would she be searching for the Commander of Death?

So, to simplify: L/xa wanted to get her hands on Clarke first so that the power of Wanheda would be under her control. Make no mistake, if Bellamy or Monty had been identified as Wanheda (as was their right, because Clarke didn’t pull the lever alone and couldn’t have without Monty) L/xa would have sent bounty hunters out for either one of them instead of Clarke. Taking Wanheda was always about insulating her own power as Commander-not keeping Clarke safe.

To further establish the above stated point, L/xa literally says this in 3x02 (Wanheda, Pt. 2):

L/xa: “I'm sorry. It had to be this way. I had to ensure Wanheda didn't fall into the hands of the Ice Queen. War is brewing, Clarke. I need you.”

In 3x03 (Ye Who Enter Here) Clarke and L/xa have a conversation that once again highlights the point I’ve already made three times over:

L.xa: “I'm not just letting you go back to your people. I want something more. I want your people to become my people. I'm offering Skaikru the chance to join my coalition, become the 13th Clan. No one would dare to move against you because that would be moving against me.”

This is not L/xa trying to protect Clarke. This is L/xa trying to protect herself. Historically the only people who have been making moves against L/xa have been L/xa herself (The Commander in Season 1 who ordered every single last attack on the Delinquents was L/xa, let’s not forget) and Mt. Weather-all of whom Clarke killed. In refusing to allow Clarke to return to her people with no strings attached, L/xa reveals her hand. She needs Clarke’s “power” as Wanheda-and Clarke calls her on it two seconds later:

L.xa: “Join me. Bow before me, and your people will be safe.”

Clarke: “Bow before you? You don't give a damn about my people. I know why you're here. I made you look weak at Mount Weather, and now the Ice Nation is exploiting that (Oh, look, almost a word for word quote from Indra in Episode 1-see above). Well, if you want the power of Wanheda, kill me. Take it. Otherwise, go float yourself because I will never bow to you.” The scene immediately following this is L/xa kicking the Azgeda ambassador out of the Polis Tower window (which again-you all romanticize and say L/xa did because he threatened Clarke). However, Clarke was safely secured in Polis, a fact that L/xa was well aware of and what L/xa says after she kicks the ambassador out of the window only serves to show us what her real purpose is:

“Would anyone else care to question my decisions? Good. Then let's begin.”

This was a show of power. L/xa knows her people don’t believe in her. They think she is weak. To show them otherwise, she kicks out the only person in the room who is openly defiant of her.

Now, I’m going to show you one of the best card in my deck:

Look at all the people in this shot. If you count them, you get twelve. When the camera focused in on individual faces, you see the faces of the ambassadors who were in the throne room at the beginning of this episode. Now...refresh my memory, how many ambassadors were there before L/xa made the Arkadians the 13th Clan? Oh, that’s right. I think there were twelve. Which means, that pictured above, you have every single last ambassador in Polis, save one(Clarke), who wanted L/xa out. (Note-although Echo, Nia and Emerson are in this scene, they are not present until after this opening shot is shown.)

Now, just in case you think they just want L/xa removed from her position, but somehow kept alive, let me give you the dialogue from the scene:

Echo: “Ambassadors. Make way. I have a message for the Queen. My Queen.”

Nia: “Well?”

Echo: “You got your war. Thanks to the last Mountain Man.”

Emerson: “What about Clarke?”

Echo: “By the Commander's side, as predicted. Your son is a prisoner.”

Nia: “Not for long. Soon, he'll be free, and L/xa will be dead.”

Now, let’s breakdown what this dialogue tells us: The strike on Mt. Weather was a deliberate attack on L/xa and Clarke, not the Arkadians at large. The Mt. Weather explosion served a tri-fold purpose:

1. It creates tension between Arkadia and the Grounders. 

2. It creates tension between Azgeda and the Commander (in an attempt to force L/xa into the war that she was trying to avoid). 

3. It allows Emerson a small measure of revenge against Clarke. She killed all of his people, he killed hers and prevented her people from living in/taking advantage of his people’s supplies. 

It tells us that Azgeda seeking Clarke was also a deliberate ploy:

1. “....as predicted.” is a clear statement. Echo and Nia knew that in threatening to kill Wanheda (and absorb her power), the Commander would be forced to bring Clarke to her to keep her and her power out of Azgeda hands. 

It tells us that Nia and all eleven of the other original Arkadian ambassadors (after L/xa’s kicking) want L/xa dead. Not removed from her position. D.E.A.D.

This is episode 3x03. Two episodes before episode 3x05 (the episode in which Bellamy and 9 other people massacre the Grounder army-which is what y’all seem to think was the inciting incident for L/xa’s death.) 

We’re going to make a pit stop at 3x04:

Titus: “Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

Nia: “I need no defense. She (L/xa) does. Today is judgment day. I call for a vote of no confidence.”

Titus: “Take this queen to meet her fate.”

Some Ambassador: “Not so fast. Commander no longer.”

Some Other Ambassador: “Commander no longer.”

Some Lady Ambassador: “Commander no longer.”

Titus: “Take them away, too! L/xa, please execute these traitors...”

L/xa: “Let her make her move.” Literally every other ambassador: “Commander no longer.”

L/xa’s people wanted her dead before Bellamy ever stepped foot on the killing fields of Hakeldama. L/xa killing Nia and placing Roan on the throne may have solved one problem (Nia) but it did not fix the fact that the other ambassadors didn’t want her in her position either. They had 4 entire episodes devoted to that fact and y’all choose to ignore all the evidence that points to L/xa being a shitty leader so y’all can blame the MOC for her death. But I’ll keep going.

In 3x05 (Hakeldama-the very episode you all love to site as the reason for L/xa’s death), we have the following conversation between Clarke, L/xa and Indra:

L/xa: “So tell us, Clarke, how does this end? Have you come up with a way to save your people yet again?”

Clarke: “No. Only you can do that. What happened here was an act of war. Your army was here to help us, and my people slaughtered them. You have every right to respond, every right to wipe us out, or you can change the way you do things.”

 Indra: “Why should she change? Blood must have blood.”

Clarke: “Really? Because from where I stand, the only way that ends is with everyone dead. So what kind of leader do you want to be, the kind who kills every chance she gets because that's your way or the kind who shows the world a better way?”

L/xa: “You consider letting a massacre go unavenged a better way?”

 Clarke: “If it ends a cycle of violence, yes. If it brings about peace, yes. Someone has to take the first step. Let it be you. You say you want peace. Everything you've done was to achieve that, yet here we stand on the brink of another war, a war you could stop.”

 Indra: “Commander, you can't seriously be considering this.”

L/xa: “I'm not considering it. I'm doing it.”

Indra: “Heda, please.”

L.xa: “Indra, our people act as if war is easier than peace. If that's so, should we not try and achieve the more difficult goal?”

Indra: “Polis will not support you. Titus... “

L/xa: Titus is my subject. They're all my subjects. Do you say they will defy me? Will you defy me?”

Indra: “No, Heda. I will not.”

L/xa: “Then let it be known. Blood must not have blood.” And here we have the actual reason why L/xa died. I helpfully bolded the literal foreshadowing of her murderer for you. L/xa died because she turned her back on decades of Grounder tradition. And she didn’t do that because of Bellamy. In fact her reaction to the discovery of the massacre was this:

L/xa: “Send riders. I call upon the armies of the 12 Clans. In a day's time, we lay waste to Arkadia and everyone within its walls.”  

It is at Clarke’s urging that she decides to take up the mantle of “Blood Must Not Have Blood.” If she would have done what her people demanded, what Indra told her to do, instead of following Clarke’s idea (an eighteen-year old, actual alien from space who had no vested interest (or respect for) in Grounder culture) and laid waste to Arkadia, she would have been hailed a conquering hero-especially if she returned with Wanheda in her hand. 

But I’ll continue, on to 3x06 (Bitter Harvest):

L/xa: “I saw their deaths... at war, at the hands of an assassin.”

Clarke: “It was just a nightmare.”

L/xa: “No. No. It's a warning. They think I'm betraying their legacy. Jus drein, jus daun has always, always been the way of our people.”

Clarke: “Listen to me. A cease fire is not a betrayal. What you did on that battlefield stopped a war. Your legacy will be peace.” Again, helpfully bolding the foreshadowing. L/xa is clearly stating that she has been shown a vision (although we know how the Flame works thanks to Becca-and what the Flame does is read and decipher probability.) L/xa was shown the deaths of the previous Commanders.The last portion (at the hands of an assassin) a direct compare/contrast to the way she would die just one episode later. The Flame was telling her that her own actions in betraying “Jus Drein, Jus Daun” would be responsible for her death-something L/xa literally says (again-the bolded!).

And once again, it’s Clarke, a girl who knows nothing of Grounder tradition and law and cares for them not at all (unless it is in benefit to her own people), who tells her that she did the right thing. There are no Grounders who agree with her. That is important. Continuing:

Titus: “I believe he deserves death.”

L.xa: “She can speak for herself, Titus.”

Clarke: “Titus is right.”

Titus: “You see? It is human nature to need vengeance. Only once satiated can there be peace. That is our way.”

L/xa: “So blood must not have blood applies only when it is my people who bleed.”

Clarke: “That was about stopping a war. This is about finishing one. I'm sorry, but if you want my advice, I agree with Titus. He deserves to die for what he did.”

L.xa: “I'm not looking for advice. I'm looking for a decision. He was gifted to you. Crime he stands charged with is against your people. So what will it be, then, Clarke... banishment from our lands forever or death by 49 cuts from your hand? You have till sundown to decide.” And more proof that Clarke does not care about Grounder law unless it suits her needs (a fact which L/xa clearly points out in this very scene). As long as Blood Must Not Have Blood was useful to her, Clarke was going to ride the gravy train all the way home. 

“Now April,” you may be saying, “Clarke decided not to kill Emerson and that wasn’t in her favor (or Arkadia’s) so that must mean she values Grounder law and tradition.” And I will again say: “You’re wrong!” (and provide you with more facts:

First this bit of dialogue from Clarke’s conversation with Emerson:

Emerson: “I don't want mercy. I want revenge. I want you to suffer the same way that I've suffered. You can kill me, Clarke. You can never escape what you did. My pain ends today! Yours has just begun!” And when she leaves him, we find Clarke in conversation with Titus (who has surprised her in her room-again more foreshadowing!):

Titus: “I appreciate the predicament you're in, Clarke. I do. After convincing L/xa not to avenge the massacre of our army, it must be hard for you to choose to take your own revenge. Perhaps now you realize how difficult this new policy will be for our people to accept.”

Clarke: “This has nothing to do with what happened to your army. Emerson is guilty. Wiping out my people for the crimes of a few is not justice.”

Titus: “Did you not wipe out his people for what a few of them did to yours? You're a leader, Clarke. L/xa listens to you. Help me to protect her. Blood must not have blood is folly. Our people will not accept it, and I fear... I fear it will get her killed.”

Clarke: “I can't help you do something that leads to war against my people.”

Titus: “Then we're at an impasse.” Again, bolding the helpful sections. Let’s discuss them: Once again Titus spells out the reason L/xa will die (because Blood Must Not Have Blood is a change in tradition that the Grounder as a whole may not be willing to accept.) And what is Clarke’s defense? That the situation with Emerson is “different”. (Even though it’s not: Clarke, Bellamy and Monty killed everyone (almost 400 people) in Mt. Weather because of the actions of Dr. Tsing and Cage.  Pike and his Murder Co. killed 300 Grounders because of the actions of Azgeda). Titus rightfully calls her out on this (something which L/xa did earlier) and then: here’s the rub:

Titus clearly states that he is worried L/xa will die if she does not return to “Blood Must Have Blood” and he asks Clarke to protect her!!!!!

And Clarke says no. Clarke refuses to prioritize L/xa’s safety over that of her own people. I repeat, she knows (according to Titus-who is the Grounder’s holiest man-he is basically their Pope) that the Grounders do not like “Blood Must Not have Blood” and that he is afraid L/xa will die because of it. She knows that Titus does not like her and yet he was still willing to come and talk to her to save L/xa’s life and Clarke tells Titus “I can not do this thing that might save L/xa, but will doom my people.” Clarke chose her people over L/xa, the same choice she has been making since 3x03 when she bowed in front of L/xa.

Now, why is it important that Clarke says she can’t turn her back on “Blood Must Not Have Blood”? Well, I’ll take you right to this scene here:

L/xa: “We come together now, as we have countless times before, to watch a man die. Wanheda... vengeance is yours.”

Clarke: “No.”

And look at the faces in the crowd when she says no.

Clarke: “I don't know if your death would bring me peace. I just know I don't deserve it.”

Titus: “This man must die. If Skaikru will not take his life, then Heda will.”

L/xa: “Heda will speak for herself. Enough, Titus.”

 Emerson: “What the hell is this?”

Clarke:  “I wouldn't be killing you for what you've done. I'd be killing you for what I've done. I give this man his life. Jus Drein, no Jus Daun.”

And again the crowd is pissed:

L/xa: “Silence. The crimes of the Mountain can no be answered by one man.  Wanheda knows this. Her actions show us a promise for a new future, a world in which violence does not always answer violence, a world in which our children can flourish without the shadow of death. This prisoner is banished from my land. He will live, but he will live with the ghosts of those he has lost, haunted until the end of his days by the knowledge that he... is the last of his kind.”

Clarke: “May you live forever.”

Now we look at Emerson’s face:

and look at Clarke’s face right after:

What is life and death for L/xa was nothing more than a game for Clarke and she made a masterful move in this moment. In refusing to kill Emerson she has both saved her people and gotten her revenge against Emerson.

In not going with “Blood Must Have Blood” she prevents Titus, L/xa (and other Grounders) from using her actions as a motive to raze Arkadia and in forcing Emerson to live, she denies him the death (and opportunity to reunite with his family) he so clearly desires. 

And this is the moment that Titus decides to kill Clarke (which leads to L/xa’s death):

Titus decides to kill Clarke, because she allowed Emerson to live, even after he informed her that “Blood Must Not Have Blood” would likely cost L/xa her life. Because Titus loved L/xa and would have done anything to keep her safe. And you can’t even say that this moment is all because of the massacre, because it’s not! It all boils down to bad leadership on L/xa’s part:

1.If L/xa had never abandoned Arkadia at the Mountain, Clarke, Bellamy and Monty would never have had to pull the lever which irradiated the Mountain.

2.  If L/xa had not abandoned the Mountain, her people would not have had cause to label her dishonorable. 

3. If L/xa had not abandoned the Mountain, Clarke would not have been given the title of Wanheda.

4.  If L/xa had not abandoned the Mountain (therefore forcing Clarke, Bellamy and Monty to take out the Mountain, earning her the title of Wanheda and Emerson’s hatred) L/xa’s strength would not be in question. 

5. If L/xa had not abandoned the Mountain, Clarke, Bellamy and Monty wouldn’t have had to pull the lever, killing everyone inside including Emerson’s children, and resulting in Emerson’s need for vengeance against Clarke, which lead to Mt. Weather being blown up. 

6.  If L/xa’s strength were not in question, Nia would never have needed Emerson’s knowledge to blow up Mount Weather and would not have attempted to kidnap Wanheda.

7. If Clarke was not Wanheda, she would never have been in Polis in the first place. 

8.If L/xa’s strength were not in question, Nia would never have been able to sway 11 ambassadors to her side. 

9. If Nia had never been able to sway 11 ambassadors to her side, there never would have been the attempt at a unanimous vote for removal which led to a fight to the death.

10.  If L/xa had killed Roan and Nia (and any number of other Nia supporters-maybe even just declaring war on Azgeda outright), instead of appointing him to the throne, Roan would never have sent Emerson to Polis for Clarke after finding him in Azgeda territory.

11.  If Emerson had never been sent to Polis, Clarke would never have made the decision not to kill him.

12.  If Clarke had not made the aforementioned decision, Titus never would have decided to kill her.

13.  If Titus never decided to kill Clarke, L/xa wouldn’t have walked into the room upon hearing all of the commotion and been accidentally shot (which was sucky writing). 

And all because L/xa abandoned the Mountain in episode 2x15 (Blood Must Have Blood, Pt1)-a really interesting name when you consider that L.xa died because she was standing on “Blood Must not Have Blood”. 

So basically, long story short: L.xa died because she made shortsighted decisions. Also, she allowed a literal alien, with no respect or care for her culture or people outside of what they could do to save her own, influence her decisions, and turned her back on at least 40 yrs of tradition because of it. 

Short story even shorter: This is what happens when indigenous (coded) people let white people in to our societies. 

[modernbookfae]

The Commander’s Order

Nesta has made a reputation in the Illyrian camp. Her cutting words and fists have brought forth both respect and loathing from the soldiers. But she is about to meet the one opponent who is to be her match.

Lines of Love and War : Chapter 2

A gust of wind beating against the small tent roused Nesta from slumber. She grit her chattering teeth and tugged the threadbare blanket tighter around her shoulders. Outside the wind continued its onslaught against her small tent. Nesta wouldn’t be surprised if a strong draft carried herself and meager tent over the cliff.

“Why the hell would anyone live on this forsaken mountain,” Nesta grumbled wishing sleep would return.

A male laughed in the distance, but it sounded more like a braying donkey. Nesta groaned and rolled her eyes at the sound.

Right. Illyrians were the insane fools who decided to train, eat and sleep on these wretched cold mountains. And now she was stuck to join their ranks in the war against Hybern.

Slowly Nesta sat up from her bed pallet and moved the blanket from her body. She swiftly changed clothes in the enclosed space. A difficult task, but she knew it was better than seeking other shelter in case any of the males decided to follow her for a peek. The Illyrian females had warned her how the majority of the males treated them. Females were seen as weak, compliant breeding tools and nothing more.

Nesta noticed the leering gazes herself when she would walk through camp. At first she assumed it was because she was a new war recruit, but their stares were hungry. And Nesta did not take lightly to being considered a piece of meat that others wanted to taste.

She made a reputation for herself the first week at camp. Nesta imagined she must have lashed out toward half of the camp’s males with her viper tongue. The insults and fast remarks flew from her mouth just as often as Illyrians flied across the sky with their wings. Which was almost every moment.

And if words didn’t work then her fists did. The look of surprise on all the hardened Illyrian warriors’ faces was priceless when Nesta, a girl from the human side of the wall, broke the nose of a soldier who had tried to grope her.

That was the day she had gained a fragment of respect from a few Illyrians since they could see she would retaliate any unwanted attention. But she also received more taunts from those who couldn’t control themselves.

Each new dawn meant a new challenge. Most of the males still didn’t respect her. She doubted that they ever would considering the centuries of tradition they grew up on made them believe that females were to be used at their convenience. Still that didn’t mean Nesta was giving up.

She stepped out of her tent and began stretching her tight muscles. A yawn broke free from her lips and her empty stomach growled. At least Nesta could easily dismiss the hunger considering that most of her life consisted of meager meals that never completely sated her appetite.

A dark shadow drifted beside her tent.

“Do you plan on playing nice today or are you going to get into another squabble?” The Suriel asked. Its form cloaked in magic causing it to be unseen by any passerby.

“When these beasts learn some damn manners then perhaps I won’t need to give them a rude awakening with my fists.”

The Suriel chuckled. Or at least it sounded like it, but the rasp made it unclear to Nesta.

“I wouldn’t expect any less from the eldest Acheron,” the Suriel said. “You are adept at verbal sparring and have potential to hone your physical skills, but today you will be tested.”

“Isn’t everyday a test of sorts?” Nesta narrowed her eyes. “Each day my patience is tested with these Illyrians. And why is it that there are no humans here? How come I appear to be the only one summoned to this army?”

“Because it takes a specific soul to withstand the conditions this mountain presents. A number of Illyrians who are born and raised here do not always survive to adulthood,” the Suriel replied. “And humans have a far greater difficulty as it is with their weaker bodies.”

“Then why was I sent here?” Nesta asked in confusion.

The Suriel smiled. Its yellowed teeth revealed. “That is a question for another time.”

Nesta released a frustrated breath. A drum beat in the distance signaled that all soldiers were to report at the center of camp.

Nesta followed the drumbeat along with the other soldiers who were making their way out of their tents. She didn’t glance back knowing full well that the Suriel had already vanished.

When she arrived at the camp’s center the majority of soldiers were already lingering around. Females talked amongst each other while the males did the same. An obvious segregation between the two had been made.

Nesta made her way to a few females she was familiar with, but an Illyrian male blocked her path. He was almost her height if only a bit taller. He was flanked by two other Illyrian warriors. They each wore one siphon of varying colors on the back of their hands. A sign that these warriors were powerful enough that the stones were needed to regulate their energy.

“And what are you doing here?” Devlon asked. His tone clearly demeaning.

Nesta arched a brow. Leave it to Devlon to already find her. He was one of those males that sought to bring her down constantly, because she refused to cower at his words.

“Unless I’m mistaken the drums mean that all soldiers are to report,” Nesta replied evenly.

“Yes. Soldiers,” Devlon looked Nesta up and down. “You are no soldier. Why don’t you go clean laundry as a good female should?”

“Why? Were you so frightened to see me approaching that you soiled your clothes?” Nesta sniffed the air. “That must be why your stench is worse than usual.”

Fury filled Devlon’s eyes and his hand reached for one of his many weapons.

“I will not stand for such insults by a weakling,” Devlon snarled. “Perhaps a lesson is required before the Commander arrives.”

Commander? Nesta hadn’t seen the Commander of the Illyrian armies since her arrival. Then again she had heard that his time was occupied by strategizing with the High Lord of the Night Court back in the city of Velaris.

“Teach her where her place is!” A male Illyrian from the crowd shouted.

Murmurs rose up and suddenly Nesta found herself pitted against Devlon.

She barely had time to react before he charged her. His wings flared out and Nesta ducked to avoid being clipped by the appendages.

There was no way she could stand a full-blown fight again Devlon. He had years of combat training compared to Nesta’s meager month. Even with her demi-fae powers it would be a challenge unless she completely unleashed what she kept caged inside. But that would mean destruction she was not ready to face. Her powers frightened her more than any adversary that approached her in this camp.

She dodged and moved to avoid most of the hits Devlon threw at her. Nesta didn’t look back to see that his punches usually struck someone in the crowd resulting in a chain reaction that brought forth an all out brawl among the Illyrians nearby.

Nesta now focussed on not being struck by the stary swings of the other males. Her brief moment of distraction resulted in Devlon smacking her across the face. A furious rage washed over Nesta as her cheek throbbed in pain.

Instinctively her powers seeped in her veins. Responding to a call Nesta did not voluntarily ask for.

Lightening crackled at her fingertips. Devlon realized too late the ability Nesta harbored secretly. Her hand caught his wrist before throwing him in a blinding flash that sent him falling – no flying – backwards into a group of unsuspecting Illyrians who also fell to the ground in a stunned heap.

“SOLDIERS!” A deep voice boomed across the camp.

Immediately the fighting came to a halt. All faces turned to where two Illyrian males stood. The duo radiated power unlike anything Nesta had encountered among other Illyrians. One that resembled shadows and mystery while the other blazed with energy that crackled like fire.

A slight tug pulled her attention to one of them in particular. It was as if she felt drawn to him. An absurd idea considering she had no idea who he was.

And yet I feel as if I’ve known him for so long.

He wore standard leathers meant for training. But that was the only normality he possessed. His dark skin rippled from muscles in his arms as he crossed them to survey the troops. His assertive stance displayed a sense of authority that made Nesta pause.

But those eyes. Even strands of his long black hair could not hide the burning spirit of his hazel irises. Those same eyes that were currently staring directly into her own.

Nesta blinked.

And the male smirked at her.

He strode through the warriors who parted without a word. They watched in silence and curiosity.

“You’re the one causing trouble in my camp?” the male asked. A faint smile played on his lips. His wings tucked in tight, yet his broad shoulders took up enough space that the others gave him a wide berth as he approached Nesta.

She didn’t respond. Her eyes assessed the situation she now found herself in. That was when she noticed the seven red siphons.

If one siphon was what most Illyrians needed to handle their killing power…

For the first time since Nesta arrived at this camp she felt uneasy. But she stood firm as the male stopped in front of her. His gaze ran up and down her body. Sizing her up.

Her fists clenched and the male’s hazel eyes took note of her reaction. Another smile tugging at his lips.

“What’s your name?” He asked in a low voice usually reserved for the bedroom.

Nesta narrowed her eyes. Apparently his manners were lacking if he wouldn’t introduce himself first. She was about to tell him as such, but a voice broke out over the silenced gathering.

“Bitch,” Devlon growled and strode toward her.

“I hardly think that’s her name,” the other male drawled. He shrugged at Nesta as if Devlon could not be helped in his rude behavior. His siphons glinted like rubies in the morning light with the motion.

“Suits her well enough,” Devlon sneered. “This is why females are better off away from the training grounds Commander.”

Nesta tried to reign in her surprise as she gave the man beside her a second glance. So this was the Commander of Illyrian armies.

“Every able body will be trained Devlon,” the Commander said. “And if you dare go against my orders again by having them only doing chores we are going to have a discussion in the training pit where my fists will do the talking.”

Devlon remained quiet even as his hands tightened with hatred simmering in his eyes.

“Now that we have that settled,” the Commander dismissed Devlon without another word before returning his gaze to Nesta. “Care to tell me your name?”

For a few seconds Nesta remained silent, before finally giving him what he asked.

“Nesta,” she said. “And you’re name is…?”

The Commander leaned closer to Nesta in a smooth motion that caused her to lean back a fraction of an inch in surprise. And then he smirked with cockiness that won women over and brought them to his bed. “Whatever your heart desires sweetheart.”

“How about egotistical bastard?” Nesta snapped without a second thought.

The Commander looked slightly stunned her words. He was not expecting that much of a vehement refusal to his flirtation. He recovered quickly with eyes gleaming in a challenge before straightening his stature and addressing his troops.

Nesta could tell he was up to something with the way his lips quivered in restraint from laughing.

“Soldiers! Thanks to Nesta,” The Commander grinned at Nesta with humor in his eyes. “You will all be running through our most grueling drills today. And tomorrow. And the next.”

A symphony of groans rose up from the crowd along with a few glares pointed at Nesta.

“Is that understood?” The Commander’s voice carried over the troops.

“Yes Commander!” The soldiers said before heading off to their drills.

Nesta grudgingly began following the others. Intent on getting the day over with since she was sure to be getting glares and spiteful remarks from the Illyrians. A large hand clasped her arm halting her stride. The fingers easily wrapped around her narrow wrist. She turned to see the Commander with his head cocked slightly to the side. As if trying to figure Nesta out.

“What?” Nesta bit out.

That one word shook him from his trance.

“You used lightening power earlier,” he began. “Have you been testing your skills with it?”

“I’ve never had to use it before,” Nesta admitted. “And I don’t ever want to again.”

At this the Commander looked confused. “But you need to harness that power.”

“So I can use it in the war?” Nesta chuckled darkly. “I’d rather win with my own strength then rely on something I despise.”

“It’s not a matter of the war, but it’s your life that’s at stake,” the Commander explained. “If you don’t learn how to release that magic then you’re only going to harm yourself and those around you. Which means I am effectively putting you on a special routine so we can better evaluate your abilities.”

“No,” Nesta ripped her wrist out of his loose grip. “I’m not like your kind. I don’t need fae magic.” Nesta spat out those last words.

“My kind?” He stepped forward. He tempered down his fiery outrage at the insulting tone of her words. How could this human – no this demi-fae – think that they were so different. Did she not understand the gift and potential she harnessed? Could she not see that he was trying to help her?

“All you fae-” Nesta began, but was effectively cut off by the Commander.

“You yourself have fae blood,” he said and sniffed the air as if to prove his senses were correct. “And I suggest you get over whatever prejudice or fear you have, because right now we have a war to deal with and there is no meaning in fighting with yourself over this delusional matter of ignoring your powers at the risk of your life and my troops.”

“You bastard,” Nesta bit out with fists shaking in anger. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He stepped closer into Nesta’s personal space. He towered over her with his height as his wings flared out a bit in a display of dominance. “I can easily change that.” He quirked a suggestive brow.

Disgust laced Nesta’s features. “As if I would ever be with a brute like you.”

“Better get used to it sweetheart,” the Commander smiled. “Because for the next couple of months we are going to train together. You and me personally to gain a better understanding of your powers.”

Nesta opened her mouth to disagree, but knew in the end that if the Commander ordered it then she was bound to listen or else face penalty. She could rage against it, but she had no clue just how strict this man was with his soldiers.

Would he send her to get lashings like they did with the disobedient children? Or would it be far worse for disobeying an order from the Commander?

She shook with resentment toward these beasts called Illyrians. And now she had to deal with the most pompous one of them all.

When Nesta didn’t argue the Commander took that as a sign that she would be learning how to harness her power.

“Oh and by the way,” the Commander leaned back with a grin lighting his face. “Call me Cassian.”

⇠ Previous Chapter

✯ Masterlist of Chapters ✯

[moonsandstar-s]

The Final Warning - Chapter XXVII

Chapter XXVII - Shackled to Silver 

Summary:  As the year draws to a close, peace has finally dawned. The time for unity has arrived. In the Vytal festival, it is time for heroes to rise, bringing glory to their kingdoms. But as autumn dies, the first winds of winter blow over Remnant, chilling the hearts of the people; breathing doubt into their souls. Long-buried secrets will triumph, and every action will have a consequence. Ruby must reconcile herself with her own fate. Weiss struggles to escape her legacy. Blake cannot erase memories. Yang’s search leads her into more peril than ever— but none of them can outrun fate. Shadows turn on shadows, and bonds shatter as they are tested to the limit. For in dividing them, they will fall and burn; at the eye of the storm, no peace lasts forever. In the end and beginning of time, there is a place where the sun never rises, and the dead delight to teach the living. A great danger is rising from the darkness. It’s time to take sides. The final warning is coming. The first chill of winter is the most deadly; it is the chill that kills more than any other. The first betrayal is the most damaging; it is the act that shatters bonds of love and trust, crushing even the strongest heart, tearing teams apart. AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/7745314/chapters/22506284 Ruby 

She was drifting alone in darkness, completely alone, save for the faintest golden light shimmering far, far ahead of her. She could remember nothing, not even her name, just that she was… here. Alone. Unbound. Wherever this was, this aimless place, in the peaceful, undulating dark that did not ask anything of her. She just existed, untethered and floating, allowing oblivion to rock her to peace.

But the golden light ahead of her beckoned suddenly, calling her name, forcing her to pause and put her thoughts into actual being. She wasn’t supposed to be here! She was needed elsewhere, and she knew it dimly. She was needed back in the world of light… no, that wasn’t right. She was needed awake. She had a name. She had a body. She was— she was—

The thought escaped her, leaving her frustrated and weak, and she sank back into the calming shadows. Who was she? Why did she need to leave her warm, sheltered darkness?

The light shimmered brighter, as if irritated at such a question. Urgency flooded her, pushing away the engulfing shadows. She knew she had go back, but… the call of the darkness was seductive, promising nothing but inky oblivion. That sounded like a welcome relief, after what had happened. She remembered pain, a pain so intense that it had nearly torn her body to shreds. And she could remember grief so great that it had shattered her heart. She didn’t want to feel that again. She didn’t want to risk that pain.

The faintest shadow of agony fell across her awareness as she looked at the golden light, making her recoil. She wasn’t willing to experience the grief that consciousness brought, and she knew that being in the light could bring hurt. Being awake and aware of yourself could hurt, because you opened yourself up to emotions, and those could be violent and agonizing. Inside and out, in the mind and on the body. She just wanted to succumb to this peaceful, warm blackness.  

But it beckoned more insistently, refusing to take no for an answer. She had to go back to the light. Had to go back to being alive. I am Ruby Rose, she thought.

Shrinking inwardly, she reached for the light, bright whiteness enveloping her, her head pulsing with an agonizing pressure, and she

burst back into consciousness like shooting up from the depths of the ocean to the surface, light dazzling her eyes, a throbbing, dull pain spreading through her body as she blinked once, twice, and her surroundings swam into sharp focus.

Fairy lights. Scarlet pillows. Quilted sheets. Sunlight streaming through the window onto golden floorboards. Her head feeling as though someone had driven a railroad spike through it. A dusty mirror, reflecting a pale, wan girl with chunks of scarlet, dark hair going every which way. A messy bookshelf lined with Grimm figurines. A chair across from her with a figure, slumped over in fitful sleep. And her mouth, tasting as though something had crawled within it and died.

The latter was the thing to kick her back into full wakefulness, and she opened her mouth once or twice experimentally, grimacing at the taste. At the movement, the pain in her head became more insistent, pushing at the edges of her skull and making her eyes throb, vision going double for a moment. A bright pang of white— no, silver— crossed the edges of her vision, and she let out a tiny groan of pain. It was this that made the figure across from her, sleeping in the chair, jolt upright as if he had been touched with a taser.

“Dad?” she whispered.

“You’re awake!” he yelped, and she shrank back with a flinch.

“Not so loud, please…”

“Right, right, of course. I’m sorry.” He half-fell, half-jumped out of his chair, going to his knees by her side, and looking at her with wide, worried blue eyes. “I just… I can’t believe you’re awake. I was…” She noticed his eyes suddenly fill with tears. “I was so worried, Rubes. We all were.”

She smiled weakly as he gently pushed the hair out from her eyes, his hands infinitely gentle. “I’m okay, Dad.” She studied him, drinking in the unique comfort that only a parent’s presence could bring. The last time she’d seen Tai, he had been bringing them— her whole team— back from Patch, and they had been laughing and talking after leaving Summer’s grave. She’d never imagined reuniting under these circumstances, and tears welled in her eyes, brimming over and streaking silently down her cheeks.

He let out a choked laugh and wiped them away. “Only you would say you were okay after taking a brush with death. Scratch that— not a brush, you smacked right into death, punched it, and came out okay.”

“I know it.” She groaned and settled back against the mound of pillows propping her up. “I feel awful.”

“Anybody would,” he said, looking guarded all of a sudden, “after what happened to you.”

She blinked, casting back in her mind’s eye for the memories of the Fall of Beacon. She remembered watching Penny die, jumping off the side of the airship, hopping onto Torchwick’s, killing him and Neo, seeing how Fox and Neon had died, Yang lying unconscious in the courtyard, kissing Weiss, streaking up the side of the Tower, and then nothing at all, except a dull, static-sort of buzz.

One event stuck out in her mind more than the others, and she felt cold under all the sheets. She looked away from her father, hoping he attributed the sudden flush in her cheeks to fever, or something. She could think about Weiss, and what had happened, later. Another, far more urgent question, pressed on her mind. “Dad… is Yang… is she okay? Is she here?”

His gaze darkened. “She’s… back here, yes. One of your friends was with her on the airship— Sun, I think— and helped her back home, a couple hours after the battle ended. She’s… alive, and conscious, but in what mental state, I… I can’t say. I do know that she’s furious at… at everything, Ruby, and rightly so, with the whole ‘leaving-without-a-word’ thing, since that reopens some old wounds… but you know that already.” It was one of the first times Ruby could recall him voluntarily bringing up Raven, and she absorbed it in a silent, stunned state. They never talked about Yang’s mom. Their family was screwed-up in its own special way, but the family they had now— her, Yang, Tai, and Qrow— was what they held close, and they didn’t bring up the things that had happened in the past. Except, it seemed, now things were all different. Nothing was the same when the world had been spun on its axis, and her reality was twisted into pieces. “Ruby,” Taiyang coaxed, his tone soft with worry, “say something.”

“Why isn’t she in here?” Ruby wavered. “This is our room, we— we share it, and I… is she…?”

His knuckles whitened as he gripped the edge of her bed. “She asked to be in the guest room,” he murmured. “She won’t talk to me… won’t talk to anyone about what happened to her. She hasn’t spoken in days.”

Ruby’s world spun, and she swayed, feeling her father reach over to steady her. “Oh no,” she mumbled. “Oh, Yang.”

“I’m not going to lie to you,” Taiyang said. “She’s… it’s pretty bad. I’ve… I’ve never seen her like this before.”

“How is she?”

“Angry,” he said, a muscle flickering in his clenched jaw. She got the feeling he was angry— not at his daughters, but at the world itself, really. Angry that he hadn’t been able to save either of the women he loved, and now, he hadn’t been able to protect either of their daughters. “Closed-off. She won’t let anyone go near her. She’s been sitting alone in her room for the past three days.”

Ruby’s eyes bugged out. “I’ve been out that long?”

He nodded. “Three days in which I got absolutely no sleep, I’ll have you know. Not a wink of it.” He gave her a wavering smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But you’re awake now, which is… more than I’d hoped for, I’ll admit. I love you, Ruby. I was so scared you wouldn’t be the same when you woke, but I’m glad to see you’re fine.”

“And you said Sun brought Yang back here,” Ruby said, fighting off a wave of exhaustion that surged up inside of her. She was determined not to succumb to the seductive promise of rest until she knew what had happened while she was unconscious. “Where did he go?”

“He went back to explore the town around central Patch until they can get him an airship back to Mistral. He said he didn’t want to stay here, not if Yang didn’t want him to, and I don’t blame him. Things have been… tense around the house. It’s all just really— chaotic right now, Rubes. It’s the aftermath of one of the worst attacks in Remnant’s history, next to the Great War… things are going to be messy for a while.”

“Isn’t it always?”

Ruby and Taiyang both looked up as a rough voice broke into their silence. Her eyes widened, sending a fresh bolt of pain through her skull, as she saw that it was her uncle. He leaned against the doorframe, his face looking more haggard than ever, the bags under his eyes very starkly pronounced, the shadow of a beard all along his jawline. “They’re always messy,” he said again. “We should be used to it, shouldn’t we?  

He was rolling something between his hands, almost absent-mindedly; Ruby doubted if he was even aware he was doing it. With a jolt of mild surprise, she realized it she recognized it: slender, silver, emblazoned with an curlicued pattern of budding leaves: Ozpin’s cane.

“Where did you—” She began, and then broke off as she saw Qrow and Taiyang exchange a glance that she was very familiar with, having grown up under her uncle’s tutelage and her father’s guidance. Tai and Qrow had both been her parents after Summer’s passing, really, and with Qrow in and out of the house so much, they had developed a nonverbal communication that she’d quickly picked up on. She recognized that look: it was the one that said, How much do we tell her?

“What?” she said, her voice sharp. “What is it?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, tucking away the cane under his cape with a furrowed look of grief, and straightening up. “Tai, you ought to go check up on Yang. I passed her room. Make sure she eats something, doesn’t matter what, as long as you get something in her. She’s looking gaunt.”

“She hasn’t been eating in days,” Taiyang said, but he obliged, lumbering to his feet. “But I’ll try to feed her. I'll see if I can get her talking. Did you talk to her?"

"She's the last person I'd want to talk to," he replied, his voice heavy, "among some others."

"You're probably right about that." Taiyang's expression shadowed. "I'll go see her."

“Be gentle. Don't press her. She’s taking everything that happened hardest.” There was an undercurrent of despair in his voice, along with an unspoken something that she could see flash in his eyes when he said ‘everything that happened’. “I’ll… talk to Ruby.”

Taiyang flashed him another look— this one was an expression Ruby often saw them exchange, one that said: be careful— before he leaned down, dropping a kiss on the top of her hair before striding out. “I’m glad you’re okay, sweetheart,” he murmured, the relief stark in his voice.

Of course he’s relieved, a needling voice, in the back of her mind, whispered. After Summer, he would be worried.

“I am too,” she said hoarsely.

“I’ll make you some cookies and milk,” he said, tossing the words over his shoulder, before exiting, gently swinging the door shut behind him.

“Hey, little rose,” Qrow murmured, drawing her attention back to him as he walked forward and brought Taiyang’s chair around, sitting in it backward, so that his folded arms rested on the arching back of it. “How are you feeling?”

“Like someone backed over me with a Bullhead, reversed it, and backed over me again,” she croaked. “I ache all over.”  

He let out a soft snort of amusement. “At least you haven’t changed after what you did,” he said, red gaze clouding over. “I was worried about that.”

“What?” she said. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He blinked at her, an expression of wariness abruptly erasing the relief on his face. “Do you… what do you remember, Ruby? Tell me everything you can recall from the Fall; don’t leave anything out.”

She shivered, suddenly cold despite the mound of blankets she was buried under. “I… I remember Penny dying in the arena.” A fresh wave of grief swept over her. “I remember killing Torchwick and Neo… and that Fox and Neon died… and Yang’s arm… and— I remember Ironwood’s ship crashing in flames—”

“I wouldn’t worry about him; Ironwood’s alright,” Qrow said with a half-smile that curled crookedly on his face, “if you can believe it. His thick skin saved him. Old Metalskull’s survived worse than a ship crash, and he’s safe— back in Atlas, with the remnants of his military intact there.”

Ruby felt a pang of relief. “I remember… fighting in the courtyard.” I remember Weiss telling me she loved me, she thought privately, but he didn’t really need to know that, did he? She could think about it later, sort out how, exactly, she felt after everything that had happened. “I remember going up the side of the Tower, and… and…”

With a sudden shock, the static-cloud of fuzziness that had engulfed her mind and blocked out her memories lifted, letting them come back into her mind’s eye in full color, full pain, full sight. They flashed through her mind in quick succession, and she sank back against her pillows, assaulted by what she had forgotten and what she knew she would never, never be able to forget from this point forwards. A mixture of shame, at having forgotten, and sheer misery, swirled through her.

Cinder, her amber eyes alight in triumph. Pyrrha, an arrow protruding from her chest. The world going whiter than a star into supernova…  

“What happened, Uncle Qrow?” she demanded. “What happened to them after I—”

Qrow’s gaze lowered and slid away as he saw the look on her face, and that was all the answer Ruby needed. “They’re dead, Ruby,” he said roughly. “Both of them.”  

Hot, angry tears welled up on the rims of her eyelids. “I was too late,” she snarled, more furious at herself than anything, but her fury, she knew, was just misery and guilt by another name. “Too late to save Pyrrha. If I had just been quicker, I could have—”

“Don’t say that,” he snapped. “Don’t blame yourself. There was nothing you could have done to make sure everything turned out perfectly. Life doesn’t work out that way. You damn near killed yourself with what you did, Ruby, and you killed Cinder with it. She would have wrought much more havoc if unleashed after she defeated Pyrrha; you kept that from happening, kept even more of your friends from dying if Cinder hadn’t been stopped. You saved Vale, you hear me? No sacrifices on that night were in vain, thanks to you. Not your peers who died, not Pyrrha,” and here let out a pained huff of breath, fingers running across the back of the chair, “and not Ozpin.”  

“How?”

The lines on his face more strained and pronounced than ever in the pale winter sunlight, he looked up at her though his ragged hair. “You’ll have to be more specific. How ‘what’, exactly?”

“I remember seeing Cinder k—kill Pyrrha,” she said slowly, taking a shuddering breath, “but I… I can’t remember anything after that, just… the whole world going white, and my head hurting, like it was about to burst…”

“Ah,” he murmured, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “Ah, so you do remember… I was hoping…”

“Hoping what?”

Silver eyes met red, deep pain reflected in both. “It’s a long story, Ruby,” he replied wearily, “a long legend, in fact, and it’s definitely not a pretty little fairytale, once you look at its implications, even if it seems nice enough at first. It’s filled with pain, and uncertainty, and it is a story that connects to you in ways you don’t know yet, ways that have been determining your future since the moment you were born— and ultimately, it’s a story I should have told you a long, long time ago.

“This is the right time, I guess, where it’s all culminated into the unavoidable. It’s a tale that you’ve known bits and pieces of throughout the span of your life, things that have been hinted at to you, but I’ll try to fill in the gaps between those bits of knowledge so it all makes sense, like a puzzle finally being completed. If you want to hear them, that is.” He frowned. “I’ll warn you: once you hear it, your old life, your old worries… those will seem miniscule. You’ll be thrust onto a path that will seem dark, and shadowed, and terrifying… but you have light to get you through it, now. Ruby, you’re strong. Stronger than you give yourself credit before. But everything changed the night Beacon fell, and whether you like it or not, we’ve got to change with it, or we won’t survive.”

“Don’t treat me like a little baby.” She glared at him, annoyed at the grating pain in his voice. “If I lived, as Dad said, ‘smacking into death’, I think I can handle a little story.”

“I see you haven’t lost any of your acid wit,” he said, rising from his chair and meandering towards the window, “that’s good. But it’s not a little story at all. And it doesn’t have a happy ending, not really. The first is a story Ozpin told me, one from a very long time ago.”  

“You and Ozpin were close, weren’t you?” she asked. “Did you— I’m sorry, Uncle Qrow. I wasn’t… I didn’t know him very well… but he reminded me of you. He reminded me of you a lot. He was kind, and he was smart. I’ll never forget him for how he encouraged me to succeed.”

“Yes,” Qrow said finally, his voice hoarse. “He wanted you to succeed, Ruby. He was proud of you, in some ways. I think he’d be proud of you now. But he died trying to stop Cinder. I don’t know when the end came for him. But I remember how he would fight like all of the Huntsmen in the world, for what he believed in. That’s how I’ll always remember him.” He stared out the window, his back to her, but she could faintly see his face in the glass, and his eyes closed in pain at her words, hands gripping the windowsill as if he were afraid to fall. Pity engulfed her at his expression. She had only ever seen Qrow look so wrecked, so torn apart by grief, one time many years ago. On the day he had brought back the news about Summer. “I was… close to him. As close as one could be to someone like that.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, uncertain of how to comfort him.

I’ve known— I knew,” he corrected himself, voice ragged, “I knew him a long, long time.” He paused, weighing his next words. “Longer than your parents, even.”

“That’s years and years you’ve known him… at least two decades, right? Is that why you have his cane? To remember?”

He turned to stare at her, his gaze hard— not quite menacing, but something in there let her know that further questions in that direction would not be welcome. “Remembering isn’t always easy,” Qrow said very quietly, “as you’ve just seen. It can be painful to remember. But we always have to learn from memories, you see, and with what’s happened… Ozpin is gone. He sacrificed himself to buy Vale time, just as your friend did. It seems we both have a responsibility: to make sure they aren’t forgotten, or that their sacrifices aren’t taken for granted.”

Ruby flinched. “Tell me the story,” she murmured.

He glanced at her thoughtfully. “When you first applied for Beacon— or rather, when you were ambushed by Torchwick and met Glynda— you met Ozpin, didn’t you? He took you and talked to you, and accepted you to Beacon. Even though you were only fifteen years old, and the strict age to enter was seventeen years old. Glynda was more dubious about it. But Ozpin was eager to let you in. So eager he overruled her immediately without a word of protest. He didn’t have a single qualm about breaking his rules like that, just for some random fifteen year old girl. Isn’t that all correct?”

“Hey, wait a second!” she burst out, sitting bolt upright and ignoring the spike of pain it induced in her head. “How could you possibly know that?”

He grinned broadly at that, the edges of his eyes crinkling. “If you had looked out the window of his office, you’d have seen a sharp-eyed crow listening in on your conversation that night. I heard everything, and I’m sure he knew I was there.”

“You used your semblance to eavesdrop on us,” she accused him, crossing her arms mutinously and sitting back. “That’s—”

“Eavesdrop is such an ugly word, don’t you think?” he mused. “I prefer gather potentially valuable information. That’s much better.”

“That’s four words, Uncle Qrow.”

“Doesn’t matter. In any case, it paid off. He knew I was there, so he laid off easy on you, and gave you entry to the school at fifteen— virtually unheard of around these parts.” He whisked around, cape swirling out behind him, and directed a piercing stare her way. “Regardless of the circumstances, do you truly believe Ozpin let you into the school— a prestigious academy; takes incredible skills to be granted entry— because you beat up a few half-trained goons with faulty guns, and ran off a cowardly thief who would have fled, regardless of whether you were there or not? Or that he let you in— you, a simple fifteen year old girl— simply because you were my niece, and I was listening in?”

“You know, I thought so at first,” she answered honestly, “but now that you’re asking me… no, I don’t think so.”

“You’re right.” He paused, running a hand over the bristles on his chin. “He wouldn’t have accepted you to Beacon, two years below the age-limit as you were, simply because you were somewhat talented with swinging around a scythe and you had a uncle who was pals with the headmaster. He’d have let you finish up at Signal, and then apply to Beacon, if that were the case. So what do you think it was?”

Deciding to let the comment about being somewhat talented slide, she narrowed her eyes in confusion at him. “I— I don’t— I don’t know why. That’s all there was that was noticeable about me, surely…?” There was a realization burning the back of her mind, malleable and unformed, and she did not want to reach for it, terrified of what it might reveal when it shaped into fully-realized form.

“The night you met him,” Qrow said darkly, “he told you something. The very first words, if you would. What were they?”

She frowned, suddenly feeling chilled, and cast back into her memory. Everything about that time was stark, tattooed in her mind forever, because it had been one of best nights of her life. She remembered the headmaster’s kindly face, Glynda looking disapproving, and then with a mild pang of satisfaction, she pulled the words out of memory’s clutch. “He said… he said I had silver eyes. I thought he… well, I don’t know. I guess he was just trying to make conversation.”

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Or because he thought you were odd-looking?”

“You have got to stop guessing my thoughts like that.”

He didn’t look amused. “He didn’t mention them for any trite reason, or because he wanted to make small talk,” Qrow informed her. “He was commenting on them to discreetly let me know that he knew who you were, and whose daughter you were, as well. Oz knew Summer Rose. She was a student there too, after all. He was also caught off-guard— now, that doesn’t happen often, let me tell you. Oz is— was— a hard man to surprise.” He swallowed, his eyes darkening with grief. “I am about to tell you a legend, Ruby, and you have to let me finish it through to its end, no matter how many questions you have. Above all, you have to believe it, every word of it. I swear by anything you hold sacred that nothing I say following these words is anything but the truth.”

“O— okay,” she stammered, startled by the sudden sharp edge of solemnity in his voice.

“You’re special, Ruby,” he said quietly, but his words sounded eerily loud in the silence that followed. “Not special in the ‘daddy-loves-his-little-angel’ sort of way. You’re special in the same way your mom was.”

She blinked at him, puzzled, but mostly— afraid. There was an expression on his face that she’d never seen before, one that mixed equal parts relief and anxiety, fear and grief.  

Qrow continued, pacing the room. “Back in the dawn of Remnant, when the world was misty and half-formed, as you know, there was Dust. Man was born from Dust, which you’re also aware of. And out of this mist that covered Remnant, four things emerged, each with a different purpose to which they would work to achieve their means: to create, to destroy, to bring forth light, and to fight back the shadows which constantly threatened Remnant.

“These were four things brimming with the energy of life when Remnant was but an infant world. Can you guess what they were, Ruby?”

“Mankind,” she said slowly, turning the words over in her mouth before she spoke them, “and… and the Faunus also count with mankind, I guess… and Dust… and the Grimm. I don’t know what the fourth is, Uncle.”

“I don’t expect you to know.” He paused, the edge of his mouth curling down in a deep frown. His words had the ring of a tale told many, many times, and she had a striking vision of Ozpin telling him this same story. “So I’ll tell you. Mankind and the Faunus were born to create, with their self-awareness, ingenuity, and endurance. The Grimm were made to destroy everything mankind created, so that humanity would never become arrogant and presume what they made was meant to last forever, and so that they would know how fragile life truly was, and what a gift it was to be able to do what they were able to do. The Grimm also were made so Hunters could come about, but that’s another story for another day. And Dust was made to bring forth light to Remnant. This is why we return to Dust when we die, so our bodies may become part of an unending cycle to light the world.”

“You said there were four,” she said. “Mankind and Faunus were intended to create, Grimm to destroy, Dust to make light, and another— one to ‘fight back the shadows that threatened’. Who was meant to do that?”

“There was a special breed of warrior, different from everything around it—  different from man, Grimm, and Dust,” he said softly. “This breed of warrior was different, you see, because it was alike everything else in some way. It owed its connections to the other three from which it had been born alongside. This special breed of warrior had the soul and mercy of mankind and Faunus— had the energy and light of Dust— and the strength and endurance of the Grimm. These warriors were the fourth thing made at the dawn of Remnant, intended to banish the shadows from the world. They were the perfect Hunter, designed to beat back the Grimm and protect that which was good.

“These warriors were all marked by one single, pointed trait: only they had them; only them, and no one else. Anybody with this trait was a warrior.” He looked at her fiercely.

She knew what he was going to say a second before he said it, and with an awful pang, she was not at all surprised as he looked directly at her, and said, “The one thing these warriors all had in common, Ruby, was that they had silver eyes.”

As if in answer, her eyes gave a pulse— not of pain, but of a sudden awareness, as if someone she loved, and had not seen in a very long time, had called her name. A warm glow suffused her body, and as if his words had unlocked something within her, she became sharply aware of several things pulsing inside of her: her soul, her mercy, her energy, her light, her strength, her endurance, and the capability she had to use it to whatever terms she wanted: to darkness, or to light.

“Oh,” she murmured, voice very quiet. "You mean... I... I'm not...?"

“It’s a lot to take in,” he said, “but it’s true. These warriors, you see, were made to kill the Grimm, as you can guess. Because Grimm were soulless creatures of malice, of darkness, drawn to negativity. The warriors were light, with souls, intended to protect mankind and the Faunus.”

“And you think I’m…?” She trailed off faintly, vaguely wiggling a hand to indicate the sheer scope of the thing, and he quirked a smile at her.

“Well, take a look in the mirror, and consider this… you killed a Grimm, larger than the likes of any regular beast, in one blow, and you shattered a woman who was able to kill two of the strongest warriors on Remnant— and you’re here, safe in bed, with the worst to happen to you being a mild headache and a three-day… well, a coma. But you’re alive.” He paused. “You’re alive, Ruby. You walked to the brink of death, and came back… and there are four other people who did not do the same. Were it not for your heritage, we would have lost you. You would be another casualty mark along with your other peers who were murdered, and we would not be having this conversation.”

“I remember it now, really,” she said. “I remember seeing what happened, and a pressure building inside my head, and then white light— it felt like fire, so cold it was hot— just bursting out of my eyes, and then I must have blacked out. I— I don’t remember anything at all after that.”

“Black out you did,” Qrow told her quietly. “I found you amid the rubble at the top of the Tower. Everything up there was shattered, and frost covered it all. The coldness of that light stopped the Grimm’s heart, and it was so devastating in itself that it killed Cinder the moment it touched her. Hell, you almost killed yourself with that blast. Unlocking the power expended so much of your energy that it exhausted all of it, and had to draw on the reserves of your spirit itself. If you’d unleashed even the slightest bit more of the power, you would be dead. I’m not telling you this to scare you, Ruby,” he added gently, forestalling her protestation as she opened her mouth, “but you have to know how big this is. And that you mustn’t underestimate it, or yourself.”  

She gaped at him, the importance of his little speech finally clicking. “So I’ve got this power,” she said, her voice slowly increasing in volume, “a huge power, one you and Dad— don’t tell me he doesn’t know; you would’ve told him right off, because my mom had it too— knew about my entire life, and neither of you thought to tell me about it?”

“Ruby—”

“You lied to me my entire life,” she hissed. “My. Entire. Life. You made me think I was someone I wasn’t, and now you’ve only told me the truth when it’s unavoidable. Who does that? What kind of a parent hides that sort of secret from their own child?”

“You aren’t my child by blood,” he said levelly, “regardless of whether I’m a parental figure to you or not. I don’t morally owe you that sort of honesty. If you asked me to prioritize your feelings, or your safety, I would prioritize your safety every time. Believe me when I say this: knowing about your power would not have helped you, Ruby. In the long run, it would have caused you far more hurt than harm. You would have been isolated, separated by the unescapable knowledge that you were fundamentally different than everyone else.”

“You lied, Qrow,” she repeated, her voice cold. “Both you, and my dad.”

“We did,” he said steadily, and somehow that soothed her anger more than protestation or or explanations or excuses would have. “There’s no excuse for it. We lied. And I’m sorry for it, I’m sorry that that’s how things had to go, but they did, and nothing I say or do will change that. But you know now. You know what you are. There’s no other secrets. No other hidden truths. I’ve told you everything— everything I know, everything Tai knows, everything Ozpin told me.”  

“Promise?” she whispered.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he replied, and the honesty flickering through his eyes made her believe him more than anything. Suddenly exhausted, she sank back against the pillows, before a sudden thought struck her so fast it felt like she had been brained with Magnhild.

“Where’s my team?”

“Your team,” he said hoarsely, turning around as if he’d been expecting it. An expression of guilt and sadness crossed his face as he inhaled a deep breath, cheeks hollowing out. “I… you shouldn’t worry about it right now. You need to rest, not learn more after everything I’ve just told you—”

“I’m their leader,” she said sharply. “I have a right to know. And it’s more than that. I care about them— so much, Uncle Qrow. Weiss is my partner, I— Yang’s my sister, and Blake’s one of my best friends in this whole world… I can’t not know. I need to know, whether it’s good or bad or—”

“It’s not good news, Ruby,” he whispered.

Her heart sinking, she blinked at him, and with a soft swear, he jammed his hands into his pockets and turned his back to her, unable to look her in the eye. “Vincent Schnee has legally sworn his daughter back into the manor at Atlas,” he said. “She’s gone. She can’t come back, not without breaking the law, and I don’t think that’s something she would dare to do.”

Forcing out the next words, though her heart was shattering in her chest, Ruby asked, “And Blake?”

“That Faunus boy, Sun… he says she vanished after the last of the airships took off from Beacon,” he said. “She disappeared into the wilderness beyond the Tower, and efforts to track her down have proved fruitless. No one’s seen her since.”

“But Yang,” Ruby said desperately, her voice very small, grasping at any shard of hope she could find, “Yang would have… she would have been able to track her down… their Bond… wouldn’t she? We could still…”

Qrow scrubbed his face with both hands, his tired voice emitting from between his fingers. “Yang,” he said quietly, “has shut down her Bond, and she refuses to speak to either me, or your father, about what happened to her three nights ago. Blake, for better or for worse, is gone, and unless she comes back voluntarily, I would advise you to… bid your goodbyes. Without the CCT, there’s no chance of tracking her down, and with the attitude in Vale right now, I’d say we had a better chance of flying to the moon then of reaching her.”

“How is Yang?” Ruby asked, afraid of the answer. “Dad said she’s… not okay. At all.”

“I won’t lie to you. That’s the understatement of the century.” He paused, raking a tired hand through his hair and disheveling it further. “Well, she’s finally reached her breaking point. The toll from being framed at the tournament, being abandoned by both her mother and her partner, losing her arm, losing her fighting style, losing her team, losing her whole world that she was used to all in one strike…” He shook her head. “Tai is losing sleep over it, but what can I say? It’s not unexpected. Everyone’s got a point where they just can’t bounce back. Everyone’s got a tipping point, when it’s too much, and you go over the edge. Nobody is unbreakable. Some of us just break a little more easily than others, that’s all. She’s endured so much— I’m just surprised that this is what it took to make her give up. You can try to talk to her if you want, but… be gentle. She’s not in a good state of mind right now.”  

Ruby covered her face with her hands, complete despair and failure making her stomach sink. She felt desperate to return to the darkness of oblivion, where nothing troubled her— not missing teammates or injured sisters or latent powers, but she would never do so again. This was reality, and she had to face it.  

She peered up at him through a haze of confusion, fear humming through her whole body. “Qrow…”

He blinked down at her. “Yeah?”

“I— what happens now?”

He looked bemused, and then bewildered, and then simply lost. “I don’t know, Ruby,” he said softly, shaking his head. “I… I really don’t know.”

“I want answers,” she forced out through gritted teeth. “Why Cinder attacked Beacon, why Roman did, why Pyrrha had to die— I need to know, or I’ll never make peace with it. I’ll never be able to make peace with what happened! Emerald and Cinder were my friends, and they betrayed me. I can’t be okay with that without answers and explanations, don’t you get it?”

He inclined his head. “Cinder and her crew— they claimed they were from Haven, if you remember,” he said. “I can’t hold you back anymore, you know, and I wouldn’t want to. You’ve grown. Perhaps, if it is answers you seek, that is where you might find them.” He nodded to her slightly before bowing out of the room, and his last words came in softly, just before the door clicked shut. “I’ll see you out there, Ruby.”

She laid there after he left, her entire body aching from the effects of what her incredible power had done, letting the icy chill run through her veins, numbing her from the inside out. The aftermath had finally sunken in, truly, and for all she had pretended to be okay when Taiyang and Qrow had been around, she wasn’t okay in any sense of the word. She abdicated her sense of calm, letting everything rush through her, all her pain and fear and confusion, relinquished the control and let it crash through her with the force of a tidal wave.

Two of her friends were gone, they were dead, they had been erased entirely, and part of her wished for the same. The entire Fall of Beacon and what had happened afterward had broken her down, bit by bit, piece by piece. Everything she knew was a lie. Her mother wasn’t just her mother, but the wielder of the same power that had almost destroyed Ruby atop the Tower; her sister was not the light sister she knew anymore, but someone calcified in regret; her friends were dead; her team was gone; and she had killed three people remorselessly. There was no such thing as happy endings, not even if you tried as hard as you could, not even if you made up for your wrongs, not even if you redeemed yourself. There was nothing but pain and betrayal and loss, in the end, whether it was caused by fate or destiny or some other power she could barely imagine. Everything she knew and believed had been wrong, had been shattered entirely, every attempt she had undertaken to save those she loved had been a failure seeped in lies, every choice she had made had caused things to grow worse.

There was nothing left to do. All her life, she had always had a path forward, even when things seemed terrible. When her mother had died, Ruby had seen her path as becoming a Huntress. When Yang had been framed, Ruby had known that she had to lead her team with confidence and certainty. When Beacon had begun to fall, Ruby knew she had to try and kill Torchwick. But now, she could see nothing, no options left, no path forward, nothing lying in wait except a deep, unending darkness that promised nothing but pain and fear.

There was nothing left for her here, or Beacon, or anywhere in the whole world. That was abundantly clear. Weiss was someplace Ruby could never reach her, Blake was missing entirely, and Yang was— mentally— somewhere more distant than the stars. Ruby lay there, and let memories overwhelm her, running over her head like waves, and she let the world fade away as she succumbed to the silver that had been coloring her life in ways she had never noticed before.

She creeps down the hallway on barefoot, sticky toes, the floorboards creaking slightly and bending with her weight. She flinches. It’s not far to the kitchen, and once she’s there, she can nab as many of her father’s snickerdoodle cookies as she wants, and abduct them to her and Yang’s room for them to share. Her sister won’t be mad; she’s sure of it. No one can say no to her dad’s baking. She’s just got to make it past the slightly ajar door of her parents’ bedroom—

“We won’t be able to hide it from her forever,” Taiyang’s voice says suddenly, floating out from the door. Ruby freezes in the shadows edging the hallway, pressing her back to the wall, and hopes that he won’t emerge from the room and spot her. “Summer, you know that we won’t. Qrow says it’s only a matter of time, but Ozpin says we’ve got to wait—”

“And since when, pray tell, have Qrow and Ozpin ever agreed on anything, hmm? They’re like an old married couple; they bicker all the time, and you know it. Except they lack the rings and the relationship.”

He sighs heavily, and Ruby leans forward, despite herself, curious as to what they’re talking about. She’s never heard her dad sound so tired— and, for all the world, defeated. He’s usually vibrant, always ready to play a game or tell them a story. “It’s not funny. I’ve never trusted him, but this is something I can’t help but worry about.”

“Him, or Qrow?”

“Either of them. Oz has always been… secretive, to say the least, and Qrow… sometimes I get the idea that he’s content to follow Ozpin’s lead in prioritizing ‘the greater good’ more than he is to look out for the best interests of his family and team.”

“Tai, they’re both good people, despite whatever they do. Remember that. I know you’re worried about her— believe me, I’ve been worried since the day she opened her eyes. I’ve never wanted her to endure what I have, with something she can’t help, that lures her intro trouble like moths to a flame… but really, there’s nothing we can do in the end.” Summer’s voice becomes fierce. “I won’t let my daughter’s memories be marred by us burdening her with what she can barely understand, do you hear me? She has the right to a normal childhood, just as much as Yang does, and I won’t let that be taken away from her, no matter what.”

Ruby surfaced from the memory, her heart beating loud in her chest, memories twining together and connecting and revealing her past in a new, frightening light. She had been marked out, outcast, from the moment she opened her eyes. From the moment she murdered three.

Alone, she thought. I am completely, absolutely alone now.

And so, alone in her room with the wavering winter sunlight striping across her childhood bed, Ruby finally allowed herself to cry.

[themachiavellianpig]

The Walking Dead, Episode 13: Roads Not Taken

Episode 13 of The Walking Dead, and it’s the end of an era. Safe travels, Michonne; hopefully we’ll see you again someday. 

Full review and extensive spoilers below. 

Throughout this episode, the last for Danai Gurira, we follow Michonne’s attempts to help out the mysterious Virgil in exchange for the weapons which are absolutely definitely somewhere on his island, promise. 

Really, were any of us surprised when the weapons turned out to be a lie? Virgil didn’t have anything to trade, but he was perfectly willing to take advantage of Michonne’s well-honed survival techniques to clear out the walkers from his island and, at long last, put his family to rest. 

It’s a shame that we only get to see the shattered remains of this community - it was isolated from hordes of walkers, growing their own food and with their own solar power set-up, and and it may have been a pretty decent place to try and ride out the apocalypse, once upon a time. The early sign that things were not quite so utopian as all that, however, comes in the form of a map of the island, with clearly defined ‘Groups’ labelled on it. Whoever was living here, they were not a united community. 

The overrun building containing a whole mess of walkers and, allegedly, Virgil’s family, was suitably creepy. The fact that Michonne could clear it single-handed and with a handicap in the form of someone who - a decade into the end of the world - still hasn’t learnt how to stay quiet or kill walkers, speaks volumes as to her skills - and also to the difficulty in maintaining an air of danger in a world where most people are pretty well-equipped to take care of themselves. It’s been a long time since any of our survivors ran and hid from a handful of the dead. 

The overrun building also has a deeply creepy room, in which a large number of survivors chose to hang themselves rather than face the undead. Canonically, that’s where Virgil’s family ended up. And while I do understand “the better to die than be killed” mindset, especially in a world where far too many people die by being eaten alive by the undead, it’s another sign that something went terribly, terribly wrong here - why couldn’t the people escape from the building? Why didn’t the rest of the community come to get them? 

The sense of niggling unease seems to affect Michonne as much as it affected me - when told to wait until morning to search the rest of the island for important supplies, she instead goes for a wander, and finds something rather surprising. 

I have to admit, while I fully expected Virgil to be lying about the weapons, I was not expecting him to be a former scientist who had trapped some of his former colleagues in some sort of cell, or for him to then lock Michonne in a cell when she discovered his dark and terrible secret. 

Fortunately, the three helpful co-workers (Jeremiah, Celeste, and Lucy) fill in some of the blanks in Virgil’s story. The island was, instead, once a thriving community - one which even took people in. But when a fight broke out over dwindling resources, Virgil’s solution was to seal the entire group in and wait for the dust to settle. 

To make such a choice seems monstrous. To make it without knowing where your family is seems somehow even worse. 

Virgil helpfully continues to lean into his new Bond Villain persona by drugging the holy heck out of Michonne, forcing her to go on some sort of messed-up vision quest to help her "see the truth." Unfortunately, while Virgil's drug fuelled experiences seem to be of the positive sort, Michonne's take her on a much darker journey. 

Specifically, it takes her down the road-not-taken, which is such a weakness of mine. The choice of defining moment for Michonne is a beautiful one - for Michonne, the single moment that changed her entire life for the better was the moment she chose to save Andrea, way back at the very end of Season 2, the first time we as an audience ever saw her. The decision to save Andrea brought Michonne back into the land of the living, which then eventually led her to Rick's group and to the creation of her own new family with the Grimeses. 

Without that decision to save Andrea, Michonne stays alone in that dark place that used to be her existence; a later attempt to rejoin civilisation goes badly when Michonne becomes the person with the orange backpack that Rick refused to help - although as Andrew Lincoln has left the show by this point, it's actually Daryl that gets the car moving again before Michonne can catch them up. Finally, AU!Michonne runs into the Saviours, and has a decent attempt at decapitating Negan before agreeing to join this new outfit. She ends up at the Satellite Outpost, and kills Glenn and Heath when they hesitate over killing sleeping Saviours. She raises the alarm against the Alexandrians, and takes her revenge for her murdered friends at the line-up, when Negan hands Lucille to his "right-hand woman". Finally, she's shot and killed during the war by Daryl and Rick. 

The whole sequence is beautifully put together, reusing old footage from previous episodes and slicing it together with new footage of Michonne the Saviour - it was deeply, deeply weird to see Rick back on the screen, even if only for a moment, and opens up all sorts of questions about what happened to Rick's group in that alternate timeline - their presence in the Saviour War would imply that they still lost the prison, so maybe the Governor was still a problem even when the group wasn't harbouring Michonne. Glenn's death at the Satellite Outpost would change Maggie's storyline significantly, and raises the question of if there was a second victim at the lineup. 

Ultimately, the whole sequence just reinforces the idea that the single biggest factor in this new world is the people who end up around you - Judith told Mary/Gamma that she would have been a better person if she'd found a better leader than Alpha to follow, and obviously the reverse is true - Michonne, or indeed any of our heroes, would have been far, far worse if they'd fallen in with different crowds. 

When the drugs wear off, leaving Michonne back in the actual hell of her cell rather than the metaphorical hell of the road-not-taken, Michonne understandable decides that she's had enough of all of this and promptly stabs Virgil with some cutlery and escapes. She released the trapped colleagues, hunts down Virgil on the Island (but not before he manages to torch the only boat in a moment of pure idiotic spite), and then convinces Virgil's newly-freed victims not to kill him for what he did to them. Amazingly, they listen. 

And then the episode starts to take a real turn. 

While gathering her equipment back up, Michonne finds a very, very familiar set of boots - the very worn cowboy boots that saw Rick Grimes through almost 9 seasons of The Walking Dead. Of course, one pair of boots does not really a mystery make - but an old phone, with a portrait of Michonne and Judith on the front with the name Rick Grimes and "Believe a little bit longer" in Japanese, that's definitely a mystery. A mystery which, for the record, Virgil denies having anything to do with - he never knew the people who were once on the boat where the boots and the phone were stored, the boat just washed up after a storm. 

But Virgil agrees to get the boat working again, and the groups sets off for the mainland again - leaving Virgil behind on the Island with his family, at his own request. 

And then we come to Michonne's big decision. Faced with proof that Rick didn't die on the bridge, she has a terrible choice to make - staying with her children or abandoning Rick to whatever bad situation he's found himself in. 

Fortunately, it is not a decision that she has to make alone. She finally gets Judith back on the radio, telling her daughter what she has found, and it's ultimately Judith who tells her to go and find Rick. They're in perfect agreement that Rick would not have stayed away for so long voluntarily - someone or something must be keeping him away, and so he must need help. What if he's trying to get home, Judith asks, but no one will help him? 

It's the permission that Michonne needs - she heads off to find Rick, taking a few Walker buddies along for protection. 

And in the final scene of the episode, and presumably our last sighting of Michonne for quite some time, we get to see her abandoning her dead companions once again in order to help the living - to help two humans, in danger of being left behind by their group because they can't move quickly enough - and what a group it is, a full-on exodus of humans moving in columns and herding what looks like horses or cows along with them. Post-apocalyptic cowboys, perhaps? 

Ever since Danai Gurira's departure from the show was announced, I was curious about how they would manage it without killing her off - for Michonne to leave the community without her children seemed unrealistic at the beginning of the season, and taking the remaining Grimes children out of the show would change the world of the Walking Dead in a way which I wasn't entirely sure would work, especially given my lingering disappointment with the decision to kill of Carl and rob us of the chance to see how people grow and develop in this bold new world. But the decision to have Michonne follow Rick, with her daughter's blessing, was a good balance, and opens the door very firmly for Michonne to make an appearance in those Rick Grimes films we've been promised. 

Lord knows I would dearly like to see Michonne on the big screen as well, when that time finally comes. 

Previous Season 10 reviews are available here. 

[gabbykaufman]

A year in the life of Donald Trump, and the country

(Photo: Mark Wilson/Getty Images)

When Donald Trump became the president-elect one year ago, his elated supporters and his crestfallen detractors had two very different ideas of the president he would become.

Those aboard the Trump Train had elected a president who declared, “I alone can fix it,” and they took him at his word.

He would provide “great health care at a fraction of the cost.” He would be “the greatest jobs president that God ever created,” by bringing back dying industries like coal mining and manufacturing. He would “rebuild” the U.S. military and “take care” of veterans. His “big, beautiful” wall along the border would halt illegal immigration, and Syrian refugees would no longer be allowed to enter the country.

Those who had opposed Trump the candidate were horrified at the prospect of him taking office. To them, Trump had campaigned on a dystopian vision of America, and his promises — to crack down on immigration, reverse Obama-era policies and pursue an isolated “America First” agenda — were more like threats. They predicted the possibility of nuclear war, a prospect Trump has done little to ward off by provoking the volatile leader of North Korea.

Of the two opposing visions of Trump’s presidency, neither has been fully borne out by events. It was probably unrealistic to expect him to repeal and replace Obamacare on “Day One” of his administration, but we’re now up to Day 291 and counting. His promise to push for a constitutional amendment setting term limits for members of Congress seems to have fallen through the cracks, along with getting rid of gun-free zones near schools. Tax cuts and infrastructure spending, signature initiatives during the campaign, are, respectively, a work in progress and a can in the process of being kicked down the road.

Nevertheless, Trump has been busy in the White House, when he’s not golfing. Here’s a partial list of his accomplishments and disappointments:

President Donald Trump applauds new Supreme Court Justice Neil Gorsuch during a public swearing-in ceremony for Gorsuch in the Rose Garden of the White House in Washington, Monday, April 10, 2017. (Photo: Evan Vucci/AP)

Judicial appointments One of the Trump administration’s earliest concrete victories, and one the White House still cites as proof of his effectiveness, was the confirmation of Neil Gorsuch to the Supreme Court. When Justice Antonin Scalia died in February 2016, Senate Republicans refused to even hold a hearing for President Obama’s nominee, Merrick Garland. During the campaign, Trump released a list of potential nominees, promising conservatives he would replace Scalia with someone from the pool. Within weeks of his inauguration, he picked Gorsuch, who was confirmed in April.

In addition to the Supreme Court, Trump has stacked the federal benches with his picks. Last week, after four confirmations, Trump thanked Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell for helping to confirm federal judges “at a record clip,” which he said amounted to the courts “rapidly changing for the better!”

Failure to repeal and replace Obamacare One of Trump’s signature campaign promises was quality health care for every citizen at a reduced cost. This, he claimed repeatedly, would be accomplished by repealing and replacing the Affordable Care Act, Obama’s signature healthcare legislation. Although Trump and many congressional Republicans campaigned at least in part on a repeal-and-replace platform, the effort has been shelved after a series of defeats.

A House bill was pulled by Speaker Paul Ryan, R-Wisc., in March because it lacked support. In May, the House passed a bill, and Trump hosted a premature celebration in the White House Rose Garden. However, the Senate rejected it and opted to write their own version instead. In July, Republican Sens. Susan Collins, John McCain, and Lisa Murkowski sank the latest effort, and Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell said it was “time to move on” to other parts of the GOP agenda. Sens. Lindsey Graham and Bill Cassidy, sensing one last opportunity, introduced their repeal bill in September, but a vote was never held after it failed to garner the necessary support.

Former FBI Director James Comey is sworn in during a Senate Intelligence Committee hearing on Capitol Hill, Thursday, June 8, 2017, in Washington. (Photo: Alex Brandon, Pool/AP)

Comey’s firing and Mueller’s appointment In May, Trump abruptly fired FBI Director James Comey, who had become a bogeyman for the Democrats for his public updates on the investigation into Hillary Clinton’s use of a private email server during her tenure as secretary of state.

Trump originally cited a Justice Department memo criticizing Comey’s handling of the investigation as the reason for his dismissal, but he later admitted he had already decided to fire Comey and hinted in an interview with NBC News “this Russia thing with Trump and Russia” influenced his decision.

Meanwhile, Comey had been keeping notes of his interactions with the president, including one conversation where Trump allegedly said, “I need loyalty, I expect loyalty.” More damningly, Comey contended Trump asked him to ease off former national security adviser Mike Flynn. After his dismissal, Comey testified he gave the memos to a friend to leak to reporters, in hope that it would trigger the appointment of a special counsel. Shortly after Comey was fired and the New York Times published the contents of the memos, Robert Mueller was tapped to lead the investigation into Russian interference in the presidential election.

Mueller has brought federal charges against Paul Manafort, a former Trump campaign chairman, and Rick Gates, Manafort’s deputy and business partner. A former campaign foreign policy aide, George Papadopoulos, has already pleaded guilty to lying to the FBI about his contacts with Russia.

Continued pressure on ISIS and bombing of Syria Trump vowed to “bomb the s*** out of” ISIS during the campaign, and he has made gains in taking down the terrorist organization. In October, U.S.-backed forces declared the end of “major military operations” in the retaking of Raqqa, Syria, the putative capital of the “Islamic state” declared by ISIS.

Trump said capturing Raqqa meant “the end of the ISIS caliphate is in sight,” and claimed credit for the victory. However, former Secretary of Defense Ash Carter denied the Trump administration had radically changed the U.S. military’s tactics in fighting ISIS. He said the capture of Raqqa was the result of a plan that “was laid out two years ago, and has been executed pretty much in the manner and the schedule that was foreseen then.”

In a departure from Obama-era policy, however, Trump authorized a missile strike on a Syrian airbase, in retaliation for a chemical weapons attack that killed at least 80 and produced horrifying footage of civilians struggling to breathe and move and foaming at the mouth. The action against the air base from where the attack was launched constituted an escalation of American involvement, as no direct military action had been taken against the Syrian government until then.

(Photos: Getty Images)

West Wing and Cabinet exits The team around Trump in the White House today is markedly different than the one with which he began his term in January. National Security Adviser Mike Flynn resigned after just three weeks, following reports that he had discussed U.S. sanctions with the Russian ambassador and lied about those interactions to the vice president. Other high-profile White House exits included the departures of deputy chief of staff Katie Walsh, communications director Mike Dubke, press secretary Sean Spicer, assistant press secretary Michael Short, chief of staff Reince Priebus, communications director Anthony Scaramucci, chief strategist Steve Bannon, and deputy assistant to the president Sebastian Gorka. Health and Human Services secretary Tom Price resigned under fire after reporting by Politico revealed he had spent over $1 million in taxpayer money on chartered planes.

EPA turmoil Trump appointees have dramatically overhauled and shrunk several Cabinet agencies. Scott Pruitt, in his former job as attorney general of Oklahoma, had sued the Environmental Protection Agency 13 times before he was tapped to lead it. He has attempted to transform the EPA by scaling back its regulatory footprint and shutting out environmental groups from policy-making in favor of industry executives and lobbyists. A report on his daily schedule by the New York Times found Pruitt “has held back-to-back meetings, briefing sessions and speaking engagements almost daily with top corporate executives and lobbyists from all the major economic sectors that he regulates — and almost no meetings with environmental groups or consumer or public health advocates.”

Pulling out of Paris climate agreement and Trans-Pacific Partnership As a candidate, Trump denounced the previous administration’s approach to international affairs as weak and promised to make better “deals” for the country. He put his money where his mouth is on two: the Paris climate accord and the Trans-Pacific Partnership.

Days after inauguration, Trump signed an executive order to withdraw the U.S. from TPP, a trade deal negotiated under Obama. Technically, though, the agreement hadn’t yet taken effect and still had to be approved by congress.

Trump also pulled the U.S. out of the Paris climate agreement, a 2015 deal that established voluntarily goals for countries to curb harmful emissions. When Trump announced the U.S.’s withdrawal, Nicaragua and Syria were the only countries in the world not part of the agreement. Both have since signed on, leaving the United States the only non-member.

Tangles with courts The Trump agenda has been largely stalled in Congress, with no health care, infrastructure, or tax reform bills passed, and he has turned to executive action to realize some of his other priorities.

Most notably, Trump has attempted to implement three versions of his travel ban, which barred Syrian refugees and citizens from several majority Muslim countries from entering the U.S. After a court ruling struck down the first iteration, Trump signed what he called a “watered down, politically correct version” that would last 90 days. After that second version expired, another guidance was set to take its place that would have banned travelers from Syria, Libya, Iran, Yemen, Chad, Somalia, North Korea and Venezuela. A federal district court judge in Hawaii largely stayed the order, leaving in place the restrictions on travel from North Korea and Venezuela.

Trump announced on Twitter that the U.S. military would not accommodate transgender soldiers, but a federal judge ruled the current policy should stand. The Trump administration position, the judge said, signaled the “disapproval of transgender people generally,” adding that banning and discharging transgender troops would be have more of a negative effect on the military than allowing them to serve.

Stock market rally and falling unemployment Trump ran in part on his business acumen and his understanding of the financial world, and indeed the stock market has risen and the unemployment rate has fallen since he took office.

The 20 percent rally in the S&P 500 and the 30 percent rise in the Dow have sent markets to record highs, and the president plainly said recently “the reason [the U.S.] stock market has been so successful is because of me.”

Similarly, unemployment is down to 4.1 percent, although Trump previously preached skepticism of jobs numbers — before they could be credited to him.

Escalation in tensions with North Korea Trump and North Korean leader Kim Jong Un have repeatedly provoked each other, with the latter ordering numerous missile tests, including some that have flown over Japan. They’ve traded verbal insults too: Trump branded Kim “Little Rocket Man,” and Kim lobbed back with the archaic slur “dotard.” Moreover, Trump has undermined Secretary of State Rex Tillerson’s diplomatic efforts toward North Korea, tweeting that Tillerson is “wasting his time trying to negotiate” with Kim. One day before the anniversary of his election, Trump was in South Korea, warning Pyongyang that aggression toward the South would be a “fatal miscalculation,” while putting in a plug for the golf course at his New Jersey resort.