#cause the texture fucked me up half the time and i never really liked meat anyways

[the-bees-are-beeing]

I ate sth with a texture i didn't like and istg I can still feel the texture after almost 30 min.

[nat-20s]

Wonderful! Au Part 7! (also on ao3 here) another episode only installment, and obnoxiously fluffy! Have fun!

~*~

Martin, tired: Hello everybody! Welcome, or welcome back, to a very low energy episode. We have had, as the kids say, A Week Tm.

Jon, equally tired, but fond: Is that as the kids say?

Martin: I don't know, and perhaps worse, I don't really care. I guess I could ask Jeremiah next time he's over, but I'm not sure if that would actually help.

Jon: Shockingly, I don't think two year olds have their finger on the beating pulse of youth culture.

Martin: Hmm, maybe not. Speaking of Jeremiah, he's part of why the format of this episode is gonna be a bit different than our regular. On top of me dealing with a frankly obscene amount of inventory management, and Jon being swamped with grant writing-

Jon: I never want to look at proposal guidelines again-

Martin: we were on babysitting duty for our favourite neighborhood hellion-

Jon: Hey, Jeremiah is a very sweet kid! I know he's a toddler, but we shouldn't be slandering him anyway.

Martin: One, we're not even using his real name, I don't think that counts as slander, and two, exactly, he's a toddler, he's by default a hellion.

Jon, teasing: This coming from the person that actually wants one?

Martin: I..look, if anything, the last few days have shown we should not be permanent parents.

Jon: But?

Martin:...There's no but.

Jon: I don't believe you! Are you lying for my benefit or the audience's? Because someone spent the last five days wearing one of the largest grins I've ever seen, exhausted as it may have been.

Martin: Okay! Fine, I admit, I liked having a kid around. I still think it would be a bad idea to do it full time, but I dunno. I wish we weren't both only children or something. We would make such good uncles.

Jon: Should I should have taken that teaching job after all?

Martin: Perhaps. After all,

Martin, singsong: An English teacher, is really someone!

Jon and Martin, singing together: If only you, had be-come one!

Jon: Honestly, though, I was considerably underqualified. I'm much more suited to my current job, even if it doesn't have quite the same impact on the "shaping of the next generation" or whatnot.

Martin: Wait, you actually care about qualifications now? When did that change?

Jon: This coming from Mister "master's degree in parapsychology"? And it was probably around the time that the world ended from taking on a workload I was ill-suited for.

Jon:...

Jon: Metaphorically speaking, of course.

Martin: Oh, of course. Definitely nothing literally apocalyptic in our pasts, no siree, nothing to see or speculate about or make weirdly involved forums for here. Uh, anyway, long introduction not so short: Both of us have been averaging about 4 hours of sleep, so any sort of actual research was not on the table.

Jon: If any of you are wondering why we didn't just say that we're both very much worn out and thus we'll be taking a week off, it's because we're both deeply, deeply stubborn.

Martin: It's one of our best shared qualities that has never caused any conflict between us, ever.

Jon: In fairness, sheer stubbornness does account for, what, 75% of the reason that either of us are still alive? And it hasn't caused a major conflict between us in a good three years.

Martin: That's true. We've become a deeply boring, relatively conflict free couple. Which fucking rules, by the way. To all the couples out there: I highly recommend being boring. It is so nice. We've gotten to go to the farmer's market so many times.

Jon: You do love the farmer's market. I would say that it's the access to fresh produce, but I think you just like the attention that one yarn seller gives you. Can't believe you would take advantage of a crush to get discounts on wool. How did I marry such an opportunist?

Martin: Ollie does not have a crush on me. They're just friendly to everyone.

Jon: Bullshit. I certainly never get an extra skein or stitch markers or delicate fabric cleaner tossed in my bag. Actually, I think I've been charged more for committing the crime of having married you before they could.

Martin: I'm..70% sure that's not true, but every sentence we speak, we stray further from even pretending to be on topic. So, to everybody listening, this is the itty bitty episode! Basically, we're only doing small wonders and user submissions. If you want details or backstory for things we like, too bad, come back next week. Jon, I believe you're first this week?

Jon: Oh, right. My first small wonder is cat names.

Martin: Delightful, but unsurprising. Though, I would've expected either more or less specificity. Why cat names as opposed to pet's names in general, or, like, military title names?

Jon: Well that's simple enough. I've simply never met a misnamed cat, even if the name itself wasn't to my personal tastes, and I think that speaks to the wonderful universality of cats.

Martin: This, of course, implies that you have met animals that were misnamed.

Jon: Oh, I have. I once met a papillion dog named Meatball.

Martin: Now I know you don't like food names in general for pets, but are you sure that Meatball didn't suit the dogs personality? I've known some "Meatballs" in my lifetime.

Jon, only half-mock offended: Of course it didn't fit, Martin. She was a lady. A nervous, jittery lady, but a lady nonetheless.

Martin, laughing: And what, you've never met a dignified cat with an undignified name, or vice versa? Would you be okay with our cat being named Meatball?

Jon: I would be upset if our cat was named Meatball, because we named her and we're above that sort of thing, but, technically speaking, she could have been Meatball in another lifetime and it wouldn't have been wrong. You see, all cats are a mix of both extremely austere and little baby idiot.

Martin: Oh, is that the scientific terminology?

Jon: It is. Now, while there's probably some amount of, er, normative determinism or confirmation bias or something that results in a cat with a more dignified name seeming to possess more of that austerity, as all cats have both, any name can, potentially, fit. Hence why it's wonderful.

Martin: I..accept your proposal for now, but I think more research needs to be done. Maybe we should visit the shelter this weekend and test your hypothesis.

Jon: Hmm. I think we may need to visit multiple shelters, actually. A large sample size is necessary for any sort of veracity, obviously.

Martin, imitating Jon tone: Obviously.

Jon: Glad you agree. What's your first small wonder?

Martin: Tofu!

Jon: I..didn't realize you liked that much?

Martin: Well, I don't get it very often since I know you can't stand the texture, even though it is not like 'worse scrambled eggs', and you're a horrible food thief-

Jon: Lies and slander. We readily share. If I'm a horrible food thief, you have committed the exact same, if not worse, crime as myself.

Martin: Well, we are thick as thieves.

Jon, groaning: You're thick as something alright

Martin: Rude! My beloved husband-

Jon: -uh huh-

Martin: whom I love and trust with my most tender of hearts-

Jon: -an oddly cannibalistic turn of phrase-

Martin, badly suppressing laughter: Oh, my god. I want a divorce, then I can put tofu in as many dishes as I like. I'll triple my protein intake.

Jon: It'd never go through. I'll burn the papers. No, wait, I'll burn down the legal offices where the papers are kept.

Martin: Hmm. While my experiences with it have been, uh, varied to say the least, I do have to admit that arson is one of the more attractive crimes of passion. I suppose I'll take you back.

Jon, flat: I'm so very grateful.

Jon, genuine: You do have yet to actually tell me why you think tofu is wonderful, love.

Martin: It's just a good food! It's neutral enough that you can toss it in pretty much anything with a sauce, you can bake it, you can fry it, whatever. Plus it's what? two? Three quid? I spent many years of my life living off the cheapest, saltiest approximation of noodles you could imagine, and half a pack of tofu, a little bit of sesame oil, and some green onions went a long way to both making it more filling and less sad. 

Martin: Plus, I feel like it often gets decried for being something it's not? It's so often viewed as a meat substitute or the vegan alternative option, and so when people try it, they often go in with a false preconceived notion of what it's going to be like, and then end up disappointed. They're all like, 'ugh, this doesn't taste like turkey!' and yeah, of course it doesn't. It's the oatmeal raisin cookie of the protein world, a perfectly good and tasty treat on its own, but if you want chocolate chip, it's not gonna work.

Jon: Martin you don't even like oatmeal raisin. I'm the only one that ever eats them out of the multipacks.

Martin: Well, yeah, but I don't like oatmeal raisin because of its flavor, not because I think it should be chocolate chip and fails. It illustrates my point. Also, just for balance, is your next small wonder oatmeal raisin cookies?

Jon: No, though, maybe one of these weeks. They are good. But no, um, my next small wonder is being married.

Martin, let out a high bark of a laugh: Being married is a small wonder?!

Jon: Small wonders doesn't mean a lack of importance! Or even significance in our lives. Half the time we even end up spending just as much time chattering on about them as the things we actually research. But, yes, I didn't feel like researching the concept of being married. For one, a lot of the history of it is depressing and patriarchal, and for two, it's not something I really feel any need to elaborate on. Being married. I very much enjoy it. I recommend it for anybody that's found someone that they want to marry, and who wants to marry them. I really recommend being married to Martin Blackwood, I think I would enjoy it significantly less if it was to anybody else, but one: we typically try to make the wonderful things in this show  applicable to more than just ourselves, and two: I got there first, so I believe the appropriate thing to say here would be; neener neener and/or everyone else can go suck it, Ollie.

Martin: Well...

Jon: Well, what?

Martin: Saying you got there first is technically not true-

Jon: What?!

Martin, laughing like a bastard: Sorry, sorry! Couldn't resist! Jon, you already know that you're my first real realationship, how would be married before fit that?

Jon: Hence my surprise at the notion! I cannot believe you! I give you my trust, my earnestness, and belief-

Martin [only laughs harder]

Jon: and you throw it in my face for a bit. I take back everything, being married is a nightmare, because sometimes your partner thinks he a fucking comedian and you just have to put up with him because you love him and want to live the rest of your life with him or some such nonsense. Not worth it, if you ask me. My turn to ask for the divorce.

Martin: Babe, hate to break it to you, but both of us are guilty of doing bits that the other doesn't like, it's an integral part of  a healthy marriage, and secondly, you knew who I was long before I proposed. You should've said no when you had the chance.

Jon: Hang on, you proposed?

Martin: Yeah? This isn't part of a bit, of course I proposed. I'm even pretty sure you were there. The whole visit back to Scotland trip? I finally made you a sweater and said it was because we would now be immune to the boyfriend curse?

Jon: No, no, I remember all that, but it wasn't the proposal. It was a reaffirmation of the proposal. We had already decided to get married.

Martin: Well, yeah,, I wasn't just gonna spring that on you, we had had conversations beforehand-

Jon:  No, I mean, I had already proposed. I asked you to marry me a good three years earlier, and you said yes, which is a proposal by any definition that I know.

Martin: Jon, love, darling, apple of my eye, fire of my soul, I mean this in the nicest way possible, what the everloving fuck are you talking about?

Jon: In the ambulance ride when we, uh, moved here. It was the thing I said to you the second I saw your eyes were open.

[An audible pause is left in the recording.]

Martin: That does not count.

Jon: How does it not count?! I asked you to marry me, you very emphatically said yes, that's the de facto definition of an accepted marriage proposal!

Martin: It doesn't count because you were half-delirious with blood-loss, and I had a traumatic brain injury that the hospital was very surprised I made a full recovery from. No court in the world would consider anything we said then more than pain driven ramblings, let alone, I dunno, contractually binding.

Jon: Well, I knew what I was saying well and clear. Just because it was desperate doesn't mean it wasn't sincere. I didn't realize that you weren't as cognizant when you accepted.

Martin, snorting: Yeah, didn't really need to be cognizant to say yes. I've wanted to marry you since the train ride to Scotland.

Jon: Wait, really? Martin, we hadn't even been on a date.

Martin: And yet we were on the lamb together, which I honestly think is more romantic than sitting in some restaurant somewhere trying to get through icebreakers. Also, back up, from your perspective we've been engaged since 2019? What did you think we were doing in the interim?

Jon: Uhh..

Martin: Yes?

Jon: There are people that have long engagement periods, and it's not exactly like we were in any sort of position to get married for awhile. Especially not that first year.

Martin: Okay? And?

Jon: And..I sort of thought you had changed your mind. For awhile. Was rather surprised that you kept living with me, considering that, on the worst nights, I was convinced you were going to storm off and leave me forever any minute now. Hence why your proposal was rather relieving.

Martin: Oh, Jon, love. That is so very ridiculous, and so very you, and so very close to many of my own fears and doubts. Do you have any idea how terrified I was to float the idea of marriage to you? Half the time I was convinced I was just meant to keep you company until you found someone better. And, Christ, we'd, from your perspective, been engaged the whole damn time. Fuck.

[Jon, after a beat, starts laughing. It has a slightly hysterical edge to it. Martin joins in. It takes a minute for the laughter to subside enough for them to speak again.]

Jon: I'm rapidly realizing that our entire romantic relationship would've been, if not more successful, a hell of a lot faster if we weren't both complete fools.

Martin: You're realizing that now? I think I've known that since the CV incident. I've definitely known it since the Lonely.

Jon, with a slightly tired chuckle:Yes, yes, something probably should've tipped me off earlier. Shockingly, observation of our own personal romantic trends is not always a strong suit of mine.

Jon: Anyway, please tell me you have another small wonder, this has gotten wildly of track.

Martin: Since we're talking about marriage anyway, I think my next small wonder is having a shared reference in your wedding vows. Our friends had "I have been, and always shall be, your friend" in theirs, and I made Jon cry with a slightly altered Lord of the Rings quote in ours.

Jon: First off, we were both openly weeping long before that point, secondly, I defy anybody to have been through half of what we have and then have the love of their life look them in the eyes and tell them "Leave you? I never intend to. I am going with you, if you climb to the moon" without at least tearing up.

Martin: There wasn't a dry eye in the audience, either. Granted, the audience was only 20 people, but that was also literally the only time I've seen Eloise show a strong emotion, so I'm pretty smug about it.

Martin, soft: I still feel exactly the same, you know. If you're climbing to the moon, I'll make sure the rope is strong enough for two.

Jon, soft: I know, love.

Jon: Though, to be fair, the moon is also significantly more pleasant than many places we've been.

Martin: God, I hate how much that's true. Look at this barren, oxygenless rock, at least it's not actively trying to kill us. Practically a honeymoon location.

[Martin sighs]

Martin: I am so tired. Let's do the user submissions then take a very long nap.

Jon: Please.

Martin: So, first submission is from Josie; They find it wonderful getting cards from their friends. They say they're lucky to have so much love in their life and have friends that care enough to send them things. That is wonderful Josie! We have a drawer in our house dedicated to every loving card we've ever received since the move, and they're always such a nice reminder of the people in our lives.

Jon: We should really organize that drawer, but, yes, agree with the sentiment. Even the cards from people that are no longer in our lives are lovely, I think. Those connections are very much meaningful for both of us, whether they're active or not.

Martin: That's very true.  Next submission is from Lys, who submits the sound of leaves crunching under your feet in the fall. Ah, that's a classic.

Jon: I just felt myself relax imagining it. I wish it was autumn.

Martin: Don't we all? Alright, for the last submissions, I'm grouping them together as they follow a similar theme. Jadwiga submits the feeling of waking up well into the morning with the sun shining through the window and your cat laying next to you, and Oran submits when a dog falls asleep with its head in your lap.

Jon: I can heartily recommend at least one of those, considering that's how we try to wake up most mornings. The Duchess is a dutiful darling girl who spends every night with us, and she's usually still there when us humans rise.

Martin: I bet you'll agree with the other when I finally convince you to get me a dog for my birthday.

Jon: It hasn't happened yet, so I wouldn't hold your breath.

Martin: But you don't even dislike dogs! You're just as happy to pet them when they pass by as I am.

Jon: Being fine with an animal isn't the same thing as wanting to adopt one for yourself! We don't even know if The Duchess would put up with a dog.

Martin: I bet she would. I bet we could get a big senior dog who's the calmest animal you've ever met with those soft eyes and a little grey on the muzzle and she would cuddle up in an instant. And we did say we should visit a shelter or three this weekend..

Jon: I think you're rather callously taking advantage of my exhausted state, but I suppose we can look. 

Martin: Hell fuckin yeah. So, I think that'll close out the episode, and as we always say at the end, uh, go take a nap and get a dog. Not necessarily in that order.

[morethanalittleconfused]

I accidentally wrote a 5k fanfic about incidents caused aboard the ghost by differences between species

I've been reading a lot of those old tumblr posts that are like “what if humans are actually just really, really hardy and alien species would be just completely blown away with the shit we put up with without a second thought” and it's got me thinking about the crew of the Ghost trying to get used to each other at first with three humans that are all just absolutely fucking insane, even more so than even your average human.

Rebels spoilers ahead, as well as a trigger warning for blood, vomit and general injuries

It starts with Hera and Kanan. It’s just the two of them, aboard the Ghost, and it takes some getting used to.

At first Hera is shocked by the way Kanan's body seemingly has no limits. He has never once complained about the temperature of the ghost, even when they were running low on power and Hera could feel her limbs start to get sluggish from the cold. Two weeks later he somehow managed to find his way back to the ghost after being in -2 degree Celsius weather for a half an hour with no coat on. When he walked back through the hatch with snow blowing in his loose hair and a red nose and said “it's cold as shit out there” after Hera had been panicking about losing him for the literal entire time, she had to practically scrape her jaw off of the floor. She would have been dead after a few minutes, and yet here he was, now steaming from a shower and shirtless, bitching about how the caf maker was broken.

As time went on, she learned his body did have some limits to the heat. At about 35 degrees he got irritable and short, but that was about when she started getting uncomfortably warm, too. But he would tolerate it. And more. He kept impressing her with the things he somehow managed to pull off, in conditions she would have thought would kill him. He could get knocked around far more than she thought he should be able to, and would haul himself back to the ship with a grin every time.

The way his body worked constantly surprised her. She noticed it first in how quickly he healed, and in how much he ate.

He could eat literally anything. Things she thought were poisonous for most species. He loved chocolate, and would easily eat ten times the amount that would send her to the hospital to get her stomach pumped. He could withstand a ridiculous amount of alcohol, and could drink unprocessed coffee with no problem by the cup. Caf didn't seem to really affect him because his body processed it so fast. And he ate so. Much. it was ridiculous. The good thing was it didn't really seem to matter what.

Hera didn't need much food, but it had to be good. It had to count. Too much filler and she would lose strength. Her body couldn't process a lot, and if what she got wasn't exactly what she needed, her health went downhill, quick.

Kanan was not the same. He could, and would, eat anything. He didn't have any noticeable preference for plants or meat, or the quality of the food. If he could get his hands on it, he would eat it. He would eat food out of the refrigerator she would have considered to be dangerous. He put appalling amounts of random, unrelated food in a pan, cooked it, and acted like that was an acceptable thing to do. Omelets? She hated the very idea but he seemed to think they were wonderful.

And yet, for all that, they had once been stranded for over a week with only enough rations for one, and Kanan had insisted that she take the vast majority of the ration bars. She pushed back, and he then presented her with the absolutely shocking fact that humans can survive for over a month with no food. She was absolutely flabbergasted, and he took advantage of her stunned silence to press another ration into her hand, smirk at her and say, “I can take it. Trust me.”

Another thing she noticed very quickly was how fast he healed.

He could be bleeding openly one minute, and the wound seemed to close itself the next. She knew human blood had clotting factors far beyond that of nearly any other being, but it was ridiculous how fast he sealed himself up. Further into their relationship she got to see this close up when she accidentally touched some of his congealed blood on the floor of the refresher after cleaning him up. She had had to turn away and take a few deep breaths at the slimy, gelatinous texture. He had gently huffed out a laugh.

“Kinda gross huh?”

“Yeah... it's… unique.”

“I've always been kind of fascinated by the way it congeals so quickly. Handy I guess.”

Out of sheer curiosity she had run the end of a pen through the small puddle and been horrified to see that it mostly stuck together.

“It just… does that? Inside you? And that doesn't cause problems?”

“It can. If it clots when it's not supposed to. But mostly it keeps me alive.”

And it did. And though she wouldn't say it to his face, his ability to pull through seemingly anything took just one more worry off her plate. His wounds would be almost completely closed in often under a week, where she would have been dealing with bandages and salves for a month. He almost never got infections, and could keep going with seemingly incapacitating injuries.

They had once narrowly escaped a fight with a gang of imps and made it back to the ghost with almost no problems. She had a sprained ankle, so he had supported her most of the way there, and they had patched up each other's scrapes. He had needed a bit of training so he didn't just slap a bandaid on what could have been a potentially life threatening injury for her, but he did alright. It was only later, when they were sitting in the cockpit, well into hyperspace, and he had coughed suddenly, when things went sideways. She turned to see blood seeping out of the corner of his mouth, and more on his hand when he pulled it away. They both looked at it for a moment, then Hera almost blacked out as a sudden wave of adrenaline washed over her.

“Kanan you're- are you- let me make the calc- are you dying?”

“What? Oh- no I had thought I just cracked a few of my ribs but it would appear I must have broken at least one of them.”

“BROKEN? Your bone? Like in half?”

“I- yeah?”

“Chopper we need to get to the nearest med center right now. Tell them were coming. I dont care if its a fucking imperial light cruiser”

“Wait no lets not be hasty-”

“HASTY? YOU BROKE YOUR BONES KANAN”

“Okay i know it looks bad but really i'm not going to keel over and die right now. Make sure it's a safe med center and cheap too. I can wait.”

“Kanan your bones are literally broken.”

“Yeah. It's happened before and it will happen again. I've broken my arm twice. I've broken one of the bones in my lower leg. A couple toes. At least one finger. And don't even get me started on my nose. It didn't always look like this.” At that he had huffed out a small laugh, but then winced and brought a hand to his lower chest. Almost as an afterthought, he reached down and pulled up the hem of his shirt. She had started to avert her eyes at the sliver of hip he showed, but as he pulled the shirt up higher and revealed more, she felt the breath taken out of her. His skin was mottled a whole host of awful colors, angry and puffy. He coughed that wet cough again and said, “Maybe I do need a med center after all”

She was incredibly relieved when they dropped out of hyperspace and into the welcoming arms of medicine. She was less happy when Kanan was returned to her, that night no less, with only bandages around his chest and a note to “take it easy for a while” she was appalled to say the least.

His ridiculously resilient body sometimes created just as many problems as it solved, though. He got into bar fights after downing enough alcohol to kill a bantha, and got the piss kicked out of him. He ran headfirst into danger with little consideration for life or limb. He was reckless, and incredibly hotheaded, and overall behaved like a clown. She had no idea how the Jedi accepted humans into their ranks, if Jedi he was. Restraint, my ass.

His recklessness applied to food as well. He didn't really seem to mind what he ate, content with the knowledge that if it didn’t work out, he could always regurgitate it back up. Twi’leks could not vomit, like many other species. It was yet another bizarre human trait. The ability to purge substances from your body without them having to pass through your entire digestive tract and cause more issues had always seemed like a neat trick to Hera. That is, of course, until she saw it in action.

She was roused one night by a strange noise coming from the refresher, and she had padded to the door, only to find it open. Blinking in the harsh light, she saw Kanan curled on the floor, wearing no shirt. His hair was loose and hanging around his face, and he was panting heavily. She only had time to say “Kanan, what-” before he coughed and vomited into the bowl.

Her immediate reaction ricocheted from “Oh my god he's dying” to “I’m actually going to die just having to witness this” to “Oh stars he is actually dying” so fast she could barely process it. She was immediately horrified but had no idea how to help him.

“Kanan are you- do you need a medic? How- chop- CHOPPER! How do I help you? Are you hurt?”

He had turned and peered up at her with puffy eyes and a runny nose. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He tried to talk but his voice came out too rough and he had to try again. Even then it was strangely thick.

“Hera? Are you okay?”

“Am I okay? Am I okay Kanan? You're in here dying for stars sake and I have no idea how to help you and where the hell is chopper-”

“Hey. hey.” He turned away for a moment and took a long breath in through his nose. “Calm down for a sec. I feel like shit so you're going to have to talk slower. Are you hurt or something?”

“Hurt? No I'm not hurt i’m just- you- you're in here- I don’t even know-”

He closed his eyes and took another long breath in through his nose.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah i’m just… trying really hard not to throw up again.”

“Oh.”

He opened his eyes again and looked up at her again.

She shifted against the door frame. “But you're… okay? This isn't life threatening?”

He huffed out a soft laugh, then seemed to immediately regret it as he dropped his head between his knees for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and tipped his head back up.

“No. I'm good, I just ate something bad at that pub. And I also probably drank a bit too much as well. But I think it was definitely the squids fault.”

“Oh. So this is… normal?”

“More so than I would like. Yes.”

“Okay so…” she took a deep breath to calm her nerves now that it was apparent he wasn't in any imminent danger. “Do you need anything? How can I help you?”

“Some tea maybe. Some crackers. Anything ginger you have. It'll work itself out with time.”

She stood in the door, unsure of what to do, wanting to help him, and watched as he drew a quick breath in and closed his eyes again.

“Hera. Tea. Now”

“Right.”

As she dashed to the kitchen she heard the sounds of retching from behind her.

  There were some strange things about humans that became interesting as their relationship developed beyond mere captain and crew. His hair, for example. At first she had thought it was appalling, the sheer volume of it. It was everywhere. But all it took was threading her hands through it a few times, and hearing the wonderful noises he made, before she quickly changed her opinion.

Related to his hair was the fact that humans seemed to enjoy a certain level of pain, which she could not understand. He would moan audibly when she tugged at his hair, which startled her the first time, in the best way. Once, when she was feeling particularly adventurous, she had dragged her sharp canines across the delicate skin of his throat, and had been surprised to find the taste of metal filling her mouth, sharp and bright. She was even more surprised at the way he had shuddered and come apart beneath her, just like that.  

Then, later, when Zeb and Sabine joined the crew, there was yet another learning curve as Hera adjusted to another human as well as a Lasat, and Zeb adjusted to Kanan and Sabine at the same time.

Sabine was just as reckless. She was a fighter too, but she didn't have the force to help her out. Hera had more than a few small heart attacks in the early days of Sabine's presence before she fully appreciated that she could take almost as much of a beating as Kanan. Sabine had once walked over a half a mile back to the ship with a broken leg, and when Hera pressed her on just how she managed to do that, Sabine had gotten quickly tired of the argument, ending it with a, “I don't know what to tell you, Hera! I didn't have any other options! I had to do it, so I did.”

Hera was used to most of Kanan's strange human quirks, but Sabine presented a new and entirely alarming one, which Hera first came in contact with on a supply run. Sabine needed a monthly supply of medical supplies. Hera knew very little about menstruation, as that was a trait entirely unique to human females. Why their biology decided that it was necessary was completely beyond Hera, it seemed incredibly inefficient. Sabine made as little fuss about it as possible, but Hera had embarrassed everyone about three months in when Sabine asked hera to go get her data pad from her room. Hera had burst back into the common room, and only then was able to identify the smell Sabine was carrying with her that had been tugging at the edges of Hera’s mind all day. Blood. She turned on Sabine with a very distressed, “Sabine are you injured? Are you sick?”

To which Sabine had responded, with a distinct note of confusion, “No? Why?”

And Hera, without thinking, had said, “There's blood all over your bed? Did you hurt yourself?”

Sabine had gaped at her for a moment, then blushed ever so slightly. “I uh- I forgot to wash my sheets after... Sorry. I forgot about that before I told you to go into my room.”

Hera still had not connected the dots and was opening her mouth to further interrogate Sabine as to why her bedsheets were covered in blood when Kanan had jumped up and said, “Hera! Let's go for a walk, yes?” and pulled her gently out of the room, but not before she heard Zeb turn to Sabine and say, “So, why were you bleeding?”

Zeb apparently hadn't had much contact with the more alarming of the humans' quirks, as he had his own room, until Ezra showed up. Then Zeb had to learn for himself just how absolutely wild human biology was for himself. He arguably had a rougher go of it, because while he had the rest of the crew to help him out, he was literally sharing a room with a teenage human.

The first time Ezra got food poisoning was just about as rough for Zeb as it was for Kanan and Hera, except it happened in Zebs room.  Ezra was mostly self-sufficient, but Zeb had come hollering down the hall. He had broken the “do not open my door without knocking” rule Hera kept firmly in place, but she couldn't even be mad at him. Hera was just glad Kanan had been in his own bed that night. She had woken to see Zeb standing in her door, his fur standing up like a spine down his back, one ear folded inside out, panting hard.

“Hera the kid- he’s- I don’t know what the fuck happened but he- I think he’s hurt- or- or something but I don’t know how to help him- it’s Ezra-”

At which point Kanan, who had been woken by Zebs racket, slid open his door wearing only his sleep pants. He took one moment to assess the situation, looked down the hall and said, “Oh, Ezra’s throwing up. Do you want me to take care of him, Hera?”

Hera sighed and got up from her bed.

“No, you get Zeb some tea or something. I've learned well enough how to hold hair back at this point.”

Zeb, still looking entirely horrified by the situation, allowed himself to be led into the galley by Kanan. Sabine poked her head out of her door, decided this crisis did not involve her, and went back to sleep.

The same situation had happened the first time Ezra had gotten a bloody nose in the middle of the night. It was the kind Hera had witnessed with Kanan, and knew firsthand how horrifying it was if one didn't know humans noses just Did That sometimes. It was a middle of the night kind of bloody nose, where Ezra had presumably woken up with blood all over his face and in his mouth and in his hair and on his sheets, and had tried to catch the blood in his hands, which was all well and good until he somehow had to get down from the top bunk and open two doors to get to the refresher. That left Zeb to wake up to a room smelling of blood, with blood on the floor, on the door panel, and a trail leading to the refresher where he found Ezra leaning over the sink which was also, conveniently, covered in blood. All it had taken was for Ezra to turn his face toward the creature standing in the door and say “Zeb?” before Zeb was hurtling down the hall in a panic, calling for Kanan to come help him because the kid was dying.

Sabine, who had been up working on a project, was the first to respond to this particular “The human is dying!” call. She took one look at Ezra, standing in his pajamas with blood on his hands and said, “That sucks,” and turned back to her room.

Hera, who was making her way down the hall to check on if Ezra really was dying this time, had the pleasure of seeing Sabine turn back and say, “If you want a tampon to stop up the bleeding, they're in the bottom left drawer.” This worked surprisingly well at stopping Ezras bloody nose, because he was blushing so hard there was no blood left for his nose. Hera turned back to comfort Zeb, telling him she had reacted the exact same way the first time Kanan had woken up with a bloody nose. She saw him come out of his panic in time to realize she had effectively confessed to sleeping with Kanan, but wisely decided not to say anything. Nothing he didn't already know.

The humans were absolutely bizarre to spend time around. They ended up installing a wall in the galley that had live plants in it, not because they needed fresh plants to eat, but because their brain chemicals got thrown off if they weren't around plants for too long.

They had empathy for everything. Hera had once witnessed Ezra cry in a market when they passed a fruit stand with a deformed Meiloorun. When Hera asked why he was crying, he had looked up at her with these huge eyes, sniffed, and said, “I just feel so bad for it! No one will buy it!” They had, of course, bought it. Kanan tried not to get attached to anything, but he apologized for bumping into inanimate objects, and Sabine got visibly sad when they had to throw out a good piece of gear because it was broken or old.

They all three loved swimming. They were awful at it, just barely flopping around on the surface, but any time they were near even relatively safe water, they were in it, having the time of their lives. Kanan had once explained to Hera that humans have an extra fun little bit of evolution called the mammalian dive reflex, which slows their heart rate and lowers their blood pressure when they are in water, making it calming and enjoyable. Hera was skeptical until she watched Ezra calmly floating down a river on his back and wished she had that, instead of feeling nothing but panic anytime she had to float in water.  

They were mimics. They could replicate a stunning array of sounds, from animals to tech. Ezra's favorite way of annoying her was to make the noises her ship made when something went wrong, just to see how much she would panic before she realized it was him. They would sing along to anything, even if it was just instruments, and Hera would never admit it, but she loved Kanan's voice.

They could sleep anywhere. One of her favorite memories was walking around Chopper Base after a particularly exhausting mission and finding the three of them, Kanan in the middle, with one kid leaning on either shoulder, asleep, leaning against a crate. They had looked so peaceful, and yet she was again surprised at them. It was far too cold for her to even consider sleeping, there were fighters landing only a few hundred meters away, people running all over, and they were snoozing with smiles on their faces, just glad to be home.

And humans would pack bond with literally anything. She had thought Kanan was bad until she met Ezra. It was ridiculous. Her father had said that she was improper for developing a fondness for a droid, but the kid formed a relationship with everything that moved. It got them out of a few tight spots, sure, but she would never get used to having to sit still as some enormous predator loomed in their faces. The sight of Ezra staring down a cat the size of the ghost on some jungle planet, the cat's fangs mere inches from his face as it huffed at him, was something she would never forget.

They were wild and hard headed and strong and made her life so much more interesting.

Early on, Kanan’s strange human ability to adapt to seemingly anything had been a momentary point of contention between the two of them, and was still something she struggled with. It took time for her to be okay with the fact that humans and Twi’leks were just built differently. But it frustrated Hera how weak she felt compared to him. It infuriated her the way he could just walk off something that would have killed her. She had always striven to be adaptable and up for anything. She was strong, and she knew it. But she felt her inadequacies sharply next to Kanan. Early in their partnership they had been in the galley repairing themselves from yet another fight, when Hera had turned to see Kanan casually sewing his own skin up with a needle. The way he could just puncture his own skin like that, with nothing more than a wince and a hiss of breath, had made her see red for a moment and she had to excuse herself to the cockpit to take a breath. They had talked about it, and he had helped her to realize that she was, of course, strong. Humans were adapted differently, so it was entirely unfair for her to be comparing them. But they could compare emotionally, and she was one of the strongest people he had ever had the pleasure of knowing. The two of them were forged in war, and had been through incredible things. She had fought prejudice and overcome so many obstacles to get to where she was, the best pilot in the resistance, without question. As he had said the last part, she heard him smirk a bit, and looked over at him, bathed in the blue light of hyperspace, to find him with a little crooked grin on his face and his hair falling down around his ears. She had felt her guarded heart open a little bit more at that, and had to turn and gaze back out at the stars before her heart opened completely to this rogue of a man.

Later, pressed against his chest in a supply closet, hiding from some stormtroopers, she would marvel at just how fast humans' hearts beat. She knew they were supposed to beat about two times faster than a twi’lek, but his seemed like it was fit to fly out of his ribcage. She found herself thinking, “Is it supposed to be doing that? Is this why he's such a hot headed idiot?” Later she would discover it did not always beat that incredibly fast, usually just a bit faster than hers. It made him ridiculously warm, and also may have contributed to why he was so quick to anything. Not rushed. Not hasty. Just quick. Quick to anger. Quick to smile. Quick to fight. Quick to laugh. Quick to love.

Maybe that was why it was such a shock when he finally reached his limit. She had gotten used to him pulling through impossible situations. She had forgotten that they had limits, just like her.

And then, years later, a glimmer of hope. Ahsoka and Sabine, travelling the galaxy over, searching for Ezra. While Kanan was gone forever, she still had a chance to get one of her boys back.

And of course, there was always Jacen. Her beautiful little boy, who was soft and sweet and yet surprisingly strong, just like his father. And Hera was comforted to know that wherever this wild galaxy would take him, he had Kanan Jarrus’ blood coursing through his veins to keep him safe.

[sunkissis]

Bonjour mes amis,

It has already been two months since our arrival in Paris! I cannot tell you how fast this time has flown by. We exchanged our house in LA with a sweet French couple in Nation (12th arrondissement) for the first two months so we could have time to apartment hunt. I am so happy we were able to live in Nation mostly because we were able to experience a new part of the city we have never seen before.

I feel like I have finally mastered taking Liv to school on the Metro. I used to be confused about which direction the train would go and call myself out as an obvious tourist during the ride by watching for every stop. Now, we know all the lines and have the cool, I can’t be bothered look while on the train. Although once on a crowded train I got my skirt caught in the door.

    My hair is huge here. I spend hours flat ironing it and yet the second I go outside it turns into an instant pouf. Must be the humidity, there is so much moisture in the air.

Liv and I usually discuss our plans for the week and how we are adjusting to life in France during the ride. I ask her about the differences between LA and Paris. She makes statements like France is so much more cultural and historic than California. She told me, “In Paris everyone takes public transportation but hardly anyone in LA does. Most people at the grocery store are grumpy but here they care about helping you.” She also said the food here is much better than LA. She’s doing well in school. I have met some of the parents of her classmates (although very few speak English). Her curriculum is very similar to her French school in LA but they go off the campus for PE (which is called sports) and I feel terrible because I can’t help her with most of her homework (only math and English).

After I drop her off, I usually take the bus home because the Metro is very crowded and grab my luggy to pick up the day’s groceries. I still can’t get over how frequently I have to shop here. We go through groceries like crazy!

So far we absolutely love living in Paris. I still cannot believe we are here after dreaming of this for so many years. However, there are some downsides to life in France. Please don’t think I’m some entitled brat complaining about my great life, I just want to keep it real and show both sides of our life.

It is very expensive! So far we have plunked down quite a bit of euros for household items (new towels, shopping at Ikea for our new apartment, basic toiletries). It’s harder to stick to a budget because we had to stock up on basic items. Our first week here I bought Liv a scooter, new clothes and had to replace a pair of shoes she outgrew. This month Antz and I needed some new clothes because we (happily) lost weight! I spend €225 every month on our Metro/bus passes but sometimes in a pinch, we need to use Uber and depending on how far we are from home, it can be expensive. We needed to rush home from Versailles to make it to a birthday party on time and it ended up costing €65 for a 30 minute ride.

Liv really enjoyed her €9 smoothie.

Then Monoprix had to come out with this rad limited-time collab with Maison Chateau Rouge. Just take all my money!

The romper was for Liv but if they had my size I would totally rock it. I pretty much cleared out their home decor display.

However, groceries seem less expensive here than in LA. Like cheese, meat and beverages are super cheap. But let me tell you about the most magical, delicious item in all of France… la beurre!

Back home I buy insignificant Land of Lakes salted butter for like $3.99 on sale. Here, I only buy Sel de Mer de Noirmoutier and it is so delicious. I use it on everything, you could tell me it has crystal meth in it and I would still be like “Pass the butter.” I must say, America is missing out on this fucking amazing butter. It costs €2.35!

However dining out is still costing a fortune. We stopped ordering cocktails and are sticking to drinking water but we can’t seem to keep our bill under €75. Recently, while out on a stroll around the neighborhood we found the famous rue Montorgueil. The heavens parted and angels sang as we discovered the most intoxicating smells of baked bread, meats and fresh fruit. The oldest bakery in Paris is located here. It’s now my favorite place to buy fruit and we fell in love with all the restaurants.

We brought home the best BBQ ribs and a half a kilo of cherries for lunch. Liv gobbled them the whole tray in five minutes! Oh, and I am now a basket lady. I have bought three baskets since I got here. This is who I am now. Note: The fluffy hair.

We found this incredible living wall called L’oasis d’Aboukir. It rains almost once a week so I guess that is why this garden is so insanely green.

There are a few other annoyances here that I can’t seem to figure out. Like getting mail delivered. It seemed to be easier to get our mail when we were staying in Nation but that could be due to our sweet neighbors helping us out by accepting our packages. In our new apartment, we have a mailbox that we put our names on but nothing has been delivered so far. It took many attempts to find which of the local post offices our address belonged to. My French is not as great as I thought it was. I was able to pick up one package (I ordered five weeks ago!) yet three more are in mail limbo because we were told if our building has a locked gate, they can’t deliver packages. Uh, like every single building in Paris has a passcode door so why wouldn’t they at least email me or leave a note so I know where to pick up my stuff? Today I am going to Fed Ex for the third time to pick up a package that was delivered nine days ago! My Mom sent me a huge care package and it took me two weeks to figure out how to track it down.

  Another thing I will never get used to is the military presence here. I mean, they all seem like nice soldiers but it’s jarring to walk down the street and then boom, there’s five or six fully uniformed army folks casually carrying guns that look like they belong in a video game. I don’t dare take photos of them but they do say bonjour without a smile as I walk by. Oh, and they wear berets. I suppose I am lucky to live in a relatively safe neighborhood because there have been random knife attacks since we have arrived and sadly, I am always cautious when we are in large crowds.

I also seemed to have a hyper-sensitive aversion to noise. I was equally annoyed by the nonsense noise caused by our hillbilly neighbors (they had the world’s lamest garage band) in LA. Here, the sounds are subtle but torturous. For example, we noticed the first night while in bed, the upstairs neighbor’s toilet must be directly above our heads. Imagine the sounds we heard. They also had some type of saloon door that swings shut. This door produced a boom, bump, bump, bump sound all day long, just about every 30 seconds. I was very close to paying them a friendly visit to offer some felt pads but we moved into a new apartment. Just as we arrived at our new home we were welcomed by the constant cooing of les pigeons. They nest outside of our kitchen window and their incessant cooing sounds make me want to murder.

My final (first-World) problem is our new apartment doesn’t have a separate dryer. They consider this country sophisticated? I was warned about the hard, scratchy towels of Paris so I’ve always traveled with my own towel. The night before we left LA, I took a shower and used my soft, brand new bath towel that I packed in my carry-on. Then as we were re-packing our stuff I realized I only had enough room for either my winter coat or my towel. I was already wearing my camel year-round coat on the plane so I had to make a Sophie’s Choice. I decided it won’t be so terrible to buy new towels in Paris once we arrived. Guess what? Soft, plush towels do not exist here! I was stuck using my face towel for the first week. Monoprix does sell towels but they have a scratchy texture and cost $32.99 each. So, lesson learned, travel with your own pillowcases and towels. I did bring my allergy-free pillowcase covers with me. So, I’m living in 1925 y’all!

I adore freshly dried linen sheets or hand-washed pajamas but putting on stiff as cardboard undies sucks! Now I understand why everyone has to iron clothes here.

In other fun news, it’s peony season! My favorite flower is in bloom and you can buy four stems for 20 euros. Well, that’s how much they were at the marche however Antz found a sweet bouquet for me for Mother’s day for just ten euros.

  This is how they look three days later, swoon.

May 1st is May Day. According to Wikipedia, on 1 May 1561, King Charles IX of France received a lily of the valley as a lucky charm. He decided to offer a lily of the valley each year to the ladies of the court. At the beginning of the 20th century, it became custom to give a sprig of lily of the valley, a symbol of springtime, on 1 May. Nowadays, people may present loved ones either with bunches of lily of the valley.

Liv has been a crafting machine since most of her toys couldn’t fit in her suitcase. She has decided she needs a handmade sword and shield.

  I took her to La Droguerie to buy a pom pom making kit. This colorful place is located on

9-11 Rue du Jour, 75001 Paris, France

She was able to customize her own glitter! This kid and I were in rainbow craft supplies heaven.

We try to go to visit a new arrondissement every weekend. The parks here are absolutely gorgeous. Just don’t ever step on the grass. When the sky turns blue here, you grab a picnic basket and run outside!

Jardin de Luxembourg Rue de Vaugirard, Boulevard St. Michel, Rue Auguste-Comte and Rue Guynemer 75006 Paris, France

The boat rentals are €4 for 30 minutes. Liv chose Mexico to rep her Grandma Maria.

I think the pony ride was €8. Sweetest pony but our seven year old child is a giant.

Parc Floral 4 route de la Pyramide | Bois de Vincennes, 12th, 75012 Paris, France

We also love strolling our new neighborhood to hunt for Invaders.

Liv pointed out the heart shapes in the window panes.

One evening we took a stroll and ended up on Île de la Cité just at sunset. I swear I am never going back to the US!! Life here is tres beau.

Ask me anything about living in Paris.

Life in Paris: Month Deux Bonjour mes amis, It has already been two months since our arrival in Paris! I cannot tell you how fast this time has flown by.

[policyprohibitsfraternization]

Filial

Some more emotional synesthesia, this time featuring Jesse McCree. Discussion of McHanzo.

++++++++++

What should be a crippled, lumbering struggle to roll himself over the high fence, is more like an oozing, smoking pour onto the grounds of the Shimada home. Reaper groans and remains prone on the stone walk, would pant for air if he really needed to breathe.

He gives himself a moment to gather up in a smoggy mist when he gets the first tell-tale taste of something in the air. His tongue tingles at first, before the sensation of his mouth watering floods him. It's as if he's been hit by smoke off a grill; juicy, thick slabs of meat cooking over a charcoal fire and he's starving. He swallows instinctively against the phantom of saliva and feels a little lightheaded at the rush from the emotions.

Lust, like anger and fear, works like junkfood; a quick boost that leaves no lasting sustenance after the initial burst of energy. It's enough to pull himself into a solid form for now, to get somewhere with emotions that are less fleeting, more deeply settled.

He searches for Jesse, nanites feeling around for a bittersweet wiff of cigarillo smoke and skin warmed by midday sunshine. He moves slowly through the halls, unfortunately sampling the souls of the Talon agents at the Shimada compound in the process. He doesn't know any of them enough to put a name or description to the sensations they cause, nor does he want to.

He finds Jesse with the texture of feathers run between fingers and mild, lightly sweet sake. The older Shimada, Hanzo. The source of lust is a strong echo between them, the reason why it's stretched so far across the grounds, like a clinging, cloying mist.

Being this close, he does get a hint of something under the rich and heavy savory flavor, something... more. Like high quality matcha haphazardly stirred up with too much granular sugar. It's not bad, but it's not a proper balance, either. Unlike lust, though, this fills Reaper up, like a battery on charge. It's slow, but steadying, and it grounds him in a solid body, his body.

He rounds the hall near private chambers for the head of the Shimada household, a gift from Talon for the heir returning to their clutches. Shimada retook the space reluctantly, only seeming to settle better with the mysterious man "Joel" taking up as his bodyguard.

It's there that Reaper finds Jesse, standing at the sliding door, giving his best go at a bow without losing the drape covering his shoulders and lower half of his face. He's formal in his bid goodnight to the Shimada man inside, and slides the ricepaper door shut before turning around to notice Reaper waiting in the shadows.

"Well now, lookit what the cat dragged in."

Reaper's still a little buzzed off the headiness of lust and doesn't exactly like it. "You need two need to fuck. Just get it over with," he grumbles, falling into step with Jesse as he begins his rounds for the night.

"And a good evening to you, too, Kemosabe," Jesse drawls sarcastically. Reaper gets a flutter of butterflies in his belly that aren't his own; apparently, he's struck an embarrassed nerve in his protégé.

"I have it on good authority the feeling is mutual."

Jesse pinches the bridge of his nose over his black mask. "Geezus, can we not? It's complicated, alright?" Jesse sighs and turns a corner. Reaper takes to the shadows as "Joel" checks in with a guard.

He thinks the conversation is over, the subject needs changing, but Jesse continues on his own as he joins him again. "Look, we've talked about it. It's too... risky, right now. No point in getting attached when there's the chance someone could get wise to the plot, ya know?"

Reaper wants to say it's just sex, but the words catch in his throat. He tamps down on his own feelings, his own past. He wanted Jack since he met the little shit taking the bottom bunk in their SEP dormitory, told himself for years it was just sex. They both cheated and it hurt them both worse than any physical wound, but is it really cheating when no boundaries were set, no relationship ever claimed? Jack had to die for Gabriel to admit it was love, always had been.

He doesn't want that for Jesse.

"Don't... regret it," he says instead. "Don't wait until it's too late."

Jesse stops to look at him, searching, and Reaper is grateful his mask is still up. "Does your special someone...? They know you're alive still?" Reaper is surprised that, to this day, more people hadn't found out about Jack and his affair.

"Yeah," Reaper grits, feeling a little hollow. His last encounter with Jack wasn't the greatest. Well, it was perfect until Jack said I love you and Gabriel... admitted he slept with Liao. Not his brightest moment, but he finally came clean. "Not happy with me for keeping secrets."

"Know that feelin'."

Reaper doesn't need his synesthesia to catch the sarcasm or the bitterness in that statement. "I came for you," he reminds Jesse. "Better late than never. And I won't leave you behind again." He never wanted to push Jesse away to begin with, but their lives were on the line back then and Gabriel knew his chances of getting to Jack in Zurich alive were slim. He didn't want Jesse to share the same fate if he could ever help it.

Rock candy. Jesse's filial affection is like sucking on rock candy, sweet and gritty like glass when chewed. Reaper's forgiven--for the awkward conversation this evening, for seven years in the dark as Gabriel cultivated his Reaper persona--just like that.

"I've missed you, Kemosabe."

"Yeah, you little shit. Things just aren't the same without you, either."

[jayfromriverside-blog]

Comics I read this week: 9/9-9/13

Hey all, here’s a smattering of some of the books I read this week. Some interesting issues out this week, but also some disappointments:

Saban’s Go Go Power Rangers #23

There were two driving forces behind my moral development as a child: Batman and the Power Rangers. It was more than a little disappointing to grow up and find out that you couldn’t just punch bad people and that solved things, but when Boom Studios started this Power Rangers comic, it reminded me of why I loved the Power Rangers in the first place.

I would definitely recommend this series to anyone who was a fan of the Rangers at any point, or who is looking for a good new Action book, but it comes with a caveat: This series is not easy to jump into, for 2 main reasons.

Though this is the better series, it’s not the first Power Rangers comic that Boom Studios currently has going, and unfortunately the first series goes further in depth on the larger Rangers Universe

The stories from each of the 2 Rangers books often reference or call back to elements from each other. This often means that keeping track of plot elements or continuity can get confusing between the 2 books if you’re not following along closely.

If you’re still interested in hopping into these comics, here would be the reading order I would suggest: start with this series (Go Go) for issues #1-20, as it covers the origins of the Rangers and their first year. Then start the mainline book, Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers. After you’re all caught up there, you should be good to jump back into Go Go without any issues, and can even hop between series with toooooo much confusion. 

Into the actual meat of this week’s issue: while the mainline series is much more focused on a grander Sci-Fi narrative, this series has a lot of the “monster-of-the-week” feel of the show. That’s definitely on display in this issue, where action and monster bashing take center stage. But what this comic has over the show is character depth and long-term story telling. The characters in this comic feel fleshed out and are evolving like real people, and while it’s definitely still fun, it doesn’t skimp out on the drama either. 

If you’re looking for a fun throwback to childhood with a little more emotional oomph for your mature soul, definitely give this book a go.

Justice League Odyssey #13

I’m genuinely surprised every time a new edition of this book comes out, cause I’m half expecting it to be quietly cancelled every other week. But hey, I’m not gonna complain, cause as much as the changes in art have been less than great, I’m still excited to see the Justice League Z-Team struggle with cosmic cleanup duty out in the Ghost Sector.

For anyone who hasn’t read this book and doesn’t feel like starting from the beginning, you could get away with hopping on now. It would be safe to say that the first 12 issues were the first arc of this comic, and that #13 is setting the groundwork for the second big arc. With the destruction of the Source Wall way back in No Justice, the Ghost Sector has been left as almost a wild-West out in deep space. If you’re a fan of Dex-Starr, Jessica Cruz and some other cosmic outcast characters, I’d hop on now and see if this book is for you.

For anyone currently reading this book, some minor opinions and SPOILERS AHEAD:

So Jess stayed dead for way shorter than even I thought. But hey, revival at the hands of the Omega Radiation that killed her only to be imbued with Omega Beam shooting fists seems almost poetic. I’m interested to see what the new cast of outcasts has to bring to the table in terms of opposing Darkseid and assaulting the Ghost Sector, especially now that our original team has been almost entirely converted into NEW New Gods. But it’s a welcome evolution of Jessica’s character to see her taking charge and leading a team, and more Dex-Starr in my life is always appreciated. 

On a less story focused note, the art in this new ark is good so far, but man, fuck whoever did the flashback sequence with Cyborg. On a page with his face popping up at least 5 or 6 times head on, you couldn’t remember or decide if his cybernetic side was on the left or the right? It flip flops every panel so that it’s facing away from the reader. It’s overall a minor thing, but c’mon, it’s not hard to keep that straight.

The Flash #78

I’m just tired at this point. 

The Flash’s mythos being re-written to have such an emphasis on the forces is just... really boring. The force users are pretty one-note characters and though Barry’s musings on life and trying to outrun Death are interesting, the rest of the chapter and this story arc haven’t been nearly as much. The art isn’t bad, but it’s not enough to save this title. If you’re gonna stick around for the Flash ride, have fun, let me know when it gets interesting again.

Young Justice #8

I think I mentioned it last week, but similar to Justice League Odyssey and the Terrifics, I think it’s a great idea for writers to take some of the smaller teams in the DCU out of the greater narrative and put them (effectively) in their own worlds. Better yet, Brian Michael Bendis seems to be having a ton of fun taking this young team on a multiverse-exploring adventure. 

While his work with Alias and Daredevil are some of my favorite books, I think Bendis does his best work when writing younger heroes. He seems to understand how to write entertaining young characters while making them believable, and most importantly not making them grating. 

If you need anymore convincing to get this series, and you maybe don’t fully trust Bendis after the pretty terrible years he’s had of late, then John Timms’ art should swing you. Timms has managed to strike a great balance between cartoonish modeling and dynamic action paneling which is difficult enough, but he’s also been switching up his art styles as the team goes from world to world. The guy is on top of his game right now and it’s perfectly complimenting Bendis’ universe-hopping story.

I don’t want to spoil this issue too much, but the team find themselves on Earth-3, the home of the Crime Syndicate, and face off against evil versions of themselves. While this issue was wall-to-wall action from the start, it managed to have some good character moments peppered throughout, and it looks like it might the start of the next micro-arc. This book has been great so far and only looks like it’s going to get better.

Batman Universe #3

I feel like I can’t judge this book fairly. 

I love pop-art, I’m a sucker for a good Batman story, and lighthearted superhero stories are exactly what I need to breakup the self-serious tones of a lot of the other superhero books I read. This book by Bendis and Nick Derington hits every single one of those beats. 

If you’re looking for a self-serious Batman book you’re looking in the wrong place; but if you’re looking for a book where Batman jokes with Green Lantern about how much he likes dinosaurs before being transported through time, then you’ve got a lot of fun ahead of you.

On a side note, DC put a huge amount of faith in Bendis giving him this series, Action Comics, Superman, Naomi and Young Justice. Aside from the main Superman book, which has been horrendous in every sense of the word, he’s been writing some of the best stuff he’s done in years. Not quite on par with his Daredevil or Ultimate Spider-Man runs, but still some really great stuff.

Detective Comics #1011

Last we left the Caped Crusader, he and a bunch of his billionaire friends were stranded on an island, with Bruce teamed up with a pair of crotchety WWII fighter pilots and his rich friends held captive by Deadshot. Basically we’re in a “Deadliest Game” scenario with Batman and Deadshot hunting each other on a remote island. It’s kind of like all the parts of “Arrow” that people have told me are actually good. I don’t know, I haven’t watched that show, it looks like hot garbage. 

Anyway, this 2-issue story was always just a stop-gap while Mr. Freeze (or the writers) figured out how to use the new technology boost from Lex Luthor. While I always appreciate a visit from Deadshot, as he’s one of Batman’s more under appreciated villains in my opinion, this story was pretty paint by numbers. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t fun, just that it was always the stuff coming next that felt more compelling. 

Event Leviathan #4

This book has been pretty interesting so far, but seems to have the fanbase pretty divided. I’ve seen a lot of comments on the latest issue claiming that nothing has actually happened in this story so far, and that we’re just watching Bendis spin his gears in search of a story. Maybe I’m a sucker for a good noir, but I would say that this story has had its share of action at the start, but unlike a lot of comics, it’s a slow burn story. I’m not nervous yet, as Bendis has experience with noir and has shown he can do it well.

I’m not saying that this book doesn’t have its problems: the art, while objectively impressive, is hard to parse out the details in some of the darker scenes with all of the texture filters thrown over it. Similarly, though I have faith that Bendis has an idea where this story is going, the last issue didn’t really make a ton of sense (until a little later in this issue, but at the time it wasn’t wholly believable).

Batman #78

It seems that so many people have soured on Tom King at this point that I’m in the minority saying that I’m still enjoying his run on Batman. I’m not saying it hasn’t been without its faults, I was gutted just like everyone else when issue 50 came out and tore a chance at tangible change in the Bat-universe out from under us fans. But King’s writing and storytelling, though self-indulgent at times, has been largely good and in clear pursuit of a single goal: to tell the story of Batman being broken, like he’s never been broken before. 

As fans we need to remember that the man was handed the reins to 100 issues of Batman and said he was going to tell 1 story. Not an event that would inform the rest of his run, but 1 singular story told over 100 issues. It was a herculean task and it was always going to be a slow burn, but we’re in the endgame now with City of Bane in full swing and Batman just beginning to look up from the pit he’s fallen in. He’s been physically and emotionally broken, shamed himself in front of his family and been discredited amongst his peers, and ultimately forced out of his own city. So let’s see the way back.

Ok, so this wasn’t a bad issue, but it wasn’t the right issue. I’m a huge fan of how Tom King has written Bat/Cat, and when combined with Clay Manpi’s art and paneling this issue feels like I’m watching a classic James Bond movie. But while watching Bat/Cat reconcile their issues that originally tore them apart was long overdue and felt great, this was not the right time for this issue. 

After being left on the cliffhanger of Damion being captured and ALFRED POTENTIALLY KILLED, seeing Bat and Cat talking at an island retreat was just too far removed and casual. This has probably been the biggest issue I’ve personally had with King’s run: timing. But it seems like it’s all kicking off in the next few issues, so let’s see where this all finally ends.

[panzerkrieg]

Chapter 6: The Long Run

Kadotani sat down between Kawashima and Koyama, setting down her tray and looking over her food. "Excellent! Looks like we have meat chunks, plant chunks, and possibly wheat chunks."

"President, how long are we to endure this?"

"Endure it?" Kadotani laughed. "We're here to stay, Momo. We're not leaving. And I'm not the president anymore."

Yuzu looked down at her breakfast, a horrified look on her face. "Six months of this… why does she have it out for me?"

Maho sat two tables away, as close to the back corner as she could. She had hoped to be alone for a moment while they ate breakfast, but Yukari and Mako quickly found their way to her. They sat on either side of her, both contentedly eating the aforementioned food chunks.

Yukari held one up on the end of her fork, inspecting it. "It's a cube… of bean?"

"It's asparagus." Mako wrinkled her nose at it. "I think."

"Why are you two here?" Maho pushed her untouched meal away from her.

"The Sergeant still has Saori and Suzuki out there, as well as two other girls." Yukari pointed to Hana just as she walked into the mess hall. "And she's been sending anyone whose hair isn't short enough over to get it cut."

After standing in line to get something to eat, Hana made her way to the rest of them and dropped into the seat across from Yukari. Her hair was now the shortest among the four of them, and her eyes looked like the life had been drained out of them. She looked to her friends, as if pleading them for help. "Somebody tell me this is just a bad dream."

"Are we not accommodating enough, Private?" Suddenly, Sergeant Dodger was right beside her. She was without her megaphone, but it sounded like she didn't actually need it. "Do you need a pillow? Maybe some cotton blankets? How about a teddy bear? I can lend you mine if you need it!"

Hana shot up out of her seat. "No ma'am! I'm fine, ma'am!"

"Sit the fuck down, Private! You're still in my morning routine, and that means you finish your damn breakfast! I can't have you collapsing from malnourishment on your first day! I need this to last a long time! It's not fun unless you suffer for days on end!"

She sat down, looking across the table at her friends pleadingly. They looked away, not willing to put themselves in the line of fire. Shakily, she started to eat. It wasn't easy, and not because the food was repulsive. If she ignored the taste, the smell, and the texture, then it wasn't all so bad. The Sergeant breathing down her neck was the problem.

"Hurry up, Private Butterball! You need to be all fed and ready to throw up for this morning's run!" This news carried across the mess hall as fast as Sergeant Dodger's voice. There was a low murmur about the prospect of going on a run immediately after eating. The Sergeant shouted across the room. "And you're all experts at war, are you? The enemy won't attack right after you've eaten on account of you might get cramps! That's right! We're fighting a considerate foe who lets you digest instead of hitting you whenever they damn well please or, fucking shocker, when you're at any disadvantage they can exploit! Chow down and I want to see all of you outside in ten minutes! If you're late, we'll have a boxing lesson instead! Is that understood?"

All the girls tried their best to answer together. "Yes ma'am!" She didn't really care, as she knew half of them had their mouths full. Possibly less than half, considering the food. But it wasn't there to water their mouths and whet their appetites. It was there to get them used to eating military rations. One day, they would learn to look at the raw meat from some animal they caught in the field as a lucky break. She wanted them used to tough living.

Yukari waited for the Sergeant to march out of the mess hall before turning to Maho. "What do you think about her? Sergeant Dodger, I mean."

Maho sighed. She really had wanted to be alone right now. "Private Akiyama. Or is it Private Oddball? I suggest you focus on being not worth her time. Do well, but not well enough to be outstanding. That way she'll have no reason to look at you for more than a second or two."

Mako spat out a plant cube. "Yeah… that's nasty."

Maho shook her head and continued. "I would prefer the three of you kept your distance from me. I don't want to group together, I don't want to make friends, and I certainly don't want to delve into the Sergeant's history. Eat up, and don't sit next to me again."

Mako spat out a meat cube and looked up at Maho. "Wouldn't sitting alone make you a prime target for her?"

"Shut up and eat, Slug. I'll manage."

None of them wanted to even guess what the temperature was. They ran together through the blazing desert. Though it was hardly together, considering the whole group of them stretched out for half a kilometer from Noriko, who was far ahead, and several girls who were barely able to stagger along at the back. Sergeant Dodger rode around in a jeep, shouting at them all through her megaphone. She was pretty well ignoring the frontrunners for now.

They'd been ordered to stop and wait for everyone else once they reached the flagpole at the halfway point of their run. Maho ran up to the flagpole and stopped. Noriko and Erwin were the only Ooarai girls that had beat her there. Katyusha was there, along with Nonna and Klara. There was also a girl she recognized from Anzio, and one from Koala Forest, but she didn't know either of their names. Coming along behind her, she could see the redhead from Saint Gloriana's, as well as Erika, and Kay and Naomi from Saunders. Saemonza and Hoshino from Ooarai weren't far behind them. The bulk of the girls were in a large group after that, and she could see Yukari at the head of the group.

Dodger's jeep pulled up beside the ones who had reached the checkpoint, and she started yelling at the vast majority that hadn't arrived yet. "Move your fucking asses! I know quadriplegics that could have made it here by now! If you're not all here and standing in formation in a minute and a half, I'm feeding you to the dingoes!"

Sure enough, in the next minute and a half, nearly everyone made it to the flagpole. Saori and Momo were the last two to reach them before the time was up. Dodger turned on the last girl with a fury. She shouted unrepeatable things at Nozomi as she staggered into formation after the time limit. Midoriko shook her head in disappointment, even though she had just barely made it in time herself.

Dodger called Nozomi out of the formation. "Private Konparu! You're disqualified! Go over there and give me two hundred pushups!" She waited for the targeted girl to begin her punishment, then turned back to the others. Ninety-eight remained, waiting for her word. "Alright, you fucking cunts! You have two minutes break! You get a little drink of water and a chance for a ride back to base!"

The male NCO driving the jeep got out and walked around to the back. He stood up on top of the container they had been hauling around and grabbed the hose that was attached to it. The container was full of water. He casually aimed the hose at the girls in formation and turned on the hose, spraying water through the air at their faces. This was met with almost unanimous protest and complaint. Once he was sure he'd hit all of them, totally apathetic to whether or not they actually managed to drink any or if it just went up their noses and messes up their glasses, as was certainly Momo's case, he turned it off and jumped down from the jeep.

Dodger pointed to the NCO standing at attention. "Now that you've all met Corporal Dex, you'll all have a chance to take out your frustrations on him! The first person to land a hit on the Corporal gets a free ride back to base! Any takers?" She looked immediately disappointed that no one was jumping at the opportunity.

It was Rosehip who stepped up first. "I'll give it a shot, ma'am!" Somewhere behind her, Darjeeling facepalmed.

Rosehip readied herself, holding her fists up in front of her like she was boxing. The Corporal just stood there, his hands clasped behind him, unmoving. She stepped forward, aiming a punch straight at the center of his chest. Suddenly, just as her punch was about to connect, he wasn't there anymore. His elbow struck the back of her head, and she fell face-first into the dirt.

Pepperoni, Kay, and Saemonza stepped forward and attacked. None of them were even sure how they suddenly ended up on the ground. Erika tried next, but he sidestepped and sent her flying into the side of the jeep. A few others charged from the formation. He kicked them aside one after the other, finishing off with a roundhouse kick. Turning back to the girls, he found himself staring down at Nonna.

The dark-haired girl seemed much more calm than she should have been. She nodded to him. "Zdravstvuy."

She delivered a punch straight at his chest, just like Rosehip had done. He caught her fist. She tried to hit him with her other hand, but he caught it as well. She struggled for a brief moment, and then he flipped her over onto the ground. The Corporal never said a word. He stood up and turned back to the formation again.

Katyusha shot out of the formation head first, ramming into the Corporal's stomach. He collapsed to his knees, holding his stomach, then keeled over onto his side. Katyusha casually walked away and climbed up onto the jeep.

Dodger glared down at her. "You're going to be a lot of trouble, aren't you."

Katyusha sat in the passenger seat. It was vacant, as Sergeant Dodger was standing on the hood now. She looked up at the Sergeant. "Katyusha will wait here."

Dodger just clicked on the megaphone, aiming it at the girls that were on the ground. "Get up, you lazy pieces of shit! You may have nothing else to do today, but I also run a lemonade stand, cause God knows I don't get paid enough for this bullshit! Get off the ground!"

The Corporal got up and, painfully, sat back down in the driver seat of the jeep. Leaning over the windshield, Dodger nodded to him. He grunted in acknowledgment and drove away, leaving the girls behind.

Once it genuinely didn't look like they were going to head back for the others, Katyusha finally spoke up. "Katyusha is wondering how much trouble you will be in if any of them die."

"Private Polyp, I can't let you idiots die on the first day. I want this to last a long time." She glared back at Katyusha. "Listen, Private. We can get along just fine if you do what I tell you to do and stop showing off. You're not interesting enough, and I got a hundred of you morons to work with. I'll be dividing you up into squads soon enough, and I want to put all the ones I don't have to pay attention to in the same squad. Play along, and you'll be in command of that squad."

Katyusha nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"And not a word of this to any of the others, or you'll be doing pushups all day, every day, for weeks." She turned around, falling silent until the base was in sight again. "Oh yeah, Private Suzuki is still doing pushups. Well, I can't sit down just yet. I have to make sure the obstacle course is ready."