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juniperwindsong · 5 years ago

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Necessary Monsters (10/16)

Summary: "What kind of gentleman would I be if I let your first day here be all misery?" "I thought you were a dragonologist now, not a gentleman." "They're not mutually exclusive."

His first week in Romania, Felix had been diligent about scourgifying himself after every shift. But magic, it seemed, had a harder time sluicing off dragon-related filth, and the spell never seemed to catch it all, leaving a distinct outdoors-y smell and a crusty stain about his clothes. More importantly, dirt and grime seemed to be a badge of honour here. Felix quickly discovered only newcomers and theoretical researchers, both regularly mocked by the resident dragonologists, bothered to clean themselves more than once a day. Desperate to fit in, Felix had learned to relax some of his more fastidious habits. Which is why it takes him nearly fifteen minutes of frantic searching to finally locate his long-disused bottle of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion at the bottom of an old trunk.

Grey pre-dawn light meanders across the dingy bathroom mirror as Felix applies liberal amounts of the potion to his hair, refusing to think too deeply about why. He pulls the nicer of his summer work shirts over his head, attempts to charm the worst of the wrinkles out of his trousers, and even spends a few minutes bent over his boots before he's forced to give them up as a lost cause. It would take days to remove all the layers of mud and muck.

Felix stares at his newly groomed reflection, nerves chewing a hole in the lining of his stomach. All he's done is dress himself up for disappointment, he thinks ruthlessly. His best has never been enough to impress Juniper, not for the results he wants, anyway. And he ought not to be attempting to impress her at all. She's coming here with Charlie Weasley, she's made her feelings about Felix clear, and that's all there is to it.

Anxiety wrings the last of Felix's confidence from him like a dishrag. Suddenly the prospect of seeing Juniper arrive with that ridiculous red-head is unbearable, and, in spite of the fact that he's woken at the crack of dawn on his day off specifically to greet Juniper as soon as she arrives, Felix flees the flat.

The sun is just beginning to warm the hard ground as Felix walks, quickly as dignity will allow, down the Reserve's main path toward the modest cul-de-sac of buildings. Better sense commands him not to glance across at the long-abandoned Hospital cottage. He looks anyway. The windows are as dark and disused as they've been all year, but the observation does nothing to settle his writhing nerves. Juniper might be in the main building, the same one he's headed for, receiving instructions from Guivré. The Romanian Reserve Director doesn't believe in staff meetings or long-winded introductions, but Juniper might take it upon herself to explore the building, make friends with the other dragonologists as soon as she can. That's the sort of thing she would do.

Felix's heart is pounding in his ears as he enters the building and nearly sprints through the mercifully-empty halls. He reaches his cramped office without meeting anyone, and sinks into the wobbly chair, panting slightly. There's sweat beading Felix's brow, and a lone strand of dark hair escapes his severe part. He tucks it back into place, and wonders how on Earth he's supposed to work under these conditions.

Perhaps Juniper won't stay at the Reserve long, Felix thinks as he starts on the paperwork mountain Rashbold has left piled on the desk; none of the other healers have. But the wish has no real will behind it. Juniper has never been one to shy away from a challenge. And the little pangs of terror the thought inspires reluctantly confirm to Felix that he still wants Juniper here, in spite of her unwelcome companion.

Taking a long, slow breath Felix forces composure through his limbs. Allowing himself to ruminate on the whole bloody mess is pointless, and sours his stomach. Forgoing enchantment, he fixes his eyes on the typewriter and uses his fingers to depress the keys manually. It's a slow, laborious process, but it keeps his feelings at bay and his mind from wandering. Felix turns the entirety of his attention to typing up Rashbold's report from yesterday, then the one from the day before. He works until his hand hits desk instead of parchment, and he's surprised to find he's already come to the end of the stack.

A low rumble of voices echoes from down the hall, and a quick glance at his pocket watch reveals the morning is almost over. When means, Felix realizes with a lurch, Juniper must be really, truly here. He's just wondering where she might be now when the light from the hall is suddenly blocked by a tall figure in a distinctive hat.

“Rosier? What are you doing here?” asks Grahame from the doorway. “Thought you were off today?”

"I was just catching up on paperwork," Felix says quickly, feeling oddly guilty, as though he were caught doing something forbidden. " We were about to lose the desk under it."

“Yeah, well, you might think about catching up on sleep. You’ve got circles like a coon.”

A year ago, the comparison would have meant nothing to Felix, but he’s spent enough time with the Reserve's resident American to become accustomed to his colourful turns of phrase. He manages a brittle smile.

"I'll think about it."

“How 'bout some coffee then?"

"Oh. Well, if you have some to spare." Felix tries to keep his voice from sounding to eager, though he stands so fast the chair legs rattle.

" 'Course." Grahame pushes off from the doorframe and saunters down the hall to his own slightly larger office, Felix just behind him. "I'm brewing way too much in the morning now, since you took off." He flashes an accusatory look over his shoulder. "Still can't believe you did that. I mean, I know McFusty had everyone riled up about your family for a while, but they'll get bored of it. You didn't have to run and hide."

Grahame nudges open the door of his office, and Felix follows him inside stiffly. This isn't the first time he's had to bite his tongue around Grahame's thoughtless comments. One of the outspoken American's favorite pastimes is voicing observations better kept to himself. Not the sort of person Felix would typically have any patience for, but Grahame has other qualities to make up for his tactlessness; namely, a never-ending supply of strong coffee and a generous nature.

Grahame sets his hat on the desk next to a large thermos, and rummages about in a drawer for a cup.

"I don't get all this bad blood between y'all anyway. I mean, it's not like you're one of those....what do you call 'em? Death speakers? It's-"

"Grahame," interrupts Felix tightly. He keeps his eyes fixed on the thermos of coffee, praying to it for patience. "Drop it. Please." In spite of his best effort, the words come out far too frosty to be considered polite. But rudeness runs off the American like rain from the rim of his hat. Grahame merely shakes his head and pours coffee from the thermos into the spare cup.

"I reckon you know best," Grahame concedes. He hands the cup to Felix who takes it with a nod of thanks and inhales the comfortingly scalding steam. "But I'm still sorry you're stuck in the shit shacks. Although..." Grahame's eyes suddenly light up slyly. "Guess this means you'll be seeing more of our new healer."

Felix's throat constricts tightly. His first sip of coffee is left swimming between his teeth as he tries to remember how to swallow. "Oh," he mumbles noncommittally when his mouth is free again. For once, he's grateful for Grahame's inability to pick up on social cues.

"Yep. Just got here this morning. Go by the med cottage when you have a chance and take a look. She's a peach."

Felix nearly drops his cup.

"Just out of school I think," continues Grahame, entirely oblivious to Felix's tightening jaw. "Can't be more than 18. We'll finally have something to look at besides McFusty. I know Sigeburt and Gil have already asked her to drinks, and there's money on who she says yes to first. I think Alexei's got the pot if you're interested. Personally, my bet's on - Hey! You're not going to finish your coffee?" Grahame calls after Felix's rapidly retreating back.

Felix speeds down the gravel walk toward the hospital cottage, all pretense of cool indifference gone. The blood pounding in his ears keeps time with his feet as his brain scolds him for being eleven kinds of moron. Why, oh why, did this never occur to him? He's been around the pub enough to know the lack of girls makes up a large proportion of the casual conversation among the predominately male dragonologists. Of the three female dragonologists present at the Reserve, two manage to keep themselves from intense scrutiny by their advanced age and the third -

Felix skids to a halt to avoid crashing into the stocky, muscular body and long red braid of the Reserve's youngest female dragonologist as she steps out of the hospital cottage's doorway. Instinct, recognising the impending danger, peddles his feet back just a step before dignity demands he stand his ground, matching the emerald eyes glare for glare.

"Rosier."

"McFusty."

The woman's eyes flicker into twin green flames as if Felix's cool pronunciation of her name were a grievous insult. "What do you want?" she asks fiercely, crossing her arms and planting herself in the doorway as if to block his entrance.

Felix smirks. The presence of his least favorite person at the Reserve gives his anxiety a purpose and a target. Enemies, he knows how to handle.

"To see our new healer, of course," he replies with perfect innocence. "But only if you're quite finished. I'm sure you need her assistance far more than I. Didn't your last attempt at anti-venom cause an outbreak of boils?"

McFusty's nostrils flare in such an accurate impression of the Hebridean Blacks she cares for that Felix wouldn't be surprised if actual sparks shot from them. She whips her head around to call over her shoulder into the cottage, "This'll be one of those unsavoury types I mentioned. Do let me know if he bothers you," McFusty meets Felix's eyes once more as she finishes, "I'll be happy to hex him a new hole."

Satisfied with the last word, McFusty steps out of the cottage, careful to bump hard into Felix's shoulder on her way down the walk. Felix contents himself with another superior smirk. He watches the angry red-head out of the corner of his eye as she marches away, years of experience reminding him just how possible a parting hex might be.

"What was that about?" calls a voice from inside the building that drives McFusty entirely from Felix's mind.

Excitement bubbling in his chest, Felix steps into the dimly lit cottage and jumps back hastily when the floor crunches under his feet. Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the change in light, Felix squints at the ground, then around the building's one large room. He wonders how it earned the generous title of "cottage" when "dilapidated shack" would be more accurate. Everything he can see appears to be dusty or broken or a combination of the two. What had appeared in the darkness to be piles of garbage carpeting the floor turn out, in fact, to actually be piles of garbage. There's hardly a wooden floorboard that isn't buried under cracked and broken jars and bottles, rotten bouquets of dried herbs and plants, or crushed, empty boxes. And sitting cross-legged in the middle of the rubble, like a queen surveying her unruly subjects, is Juniper.

For all his apprehension about this very moment, Felix can't stop elation surging through him as he takes in the sight. Juniper, in her trademark jeans and jumper (Slytherin green, he notes), here, in the same place as him, after all this time. Somehow, it's both soothing and exciting, and Felix wishes he could be allowed to just quietly enjoy her presence for a few minutes. But Juniper's watching him expectantly, head cocked to the side, the wand she's stuck through her loose bun wobbling slightly, and he realizes he hasn't answered her question.

"It's...nothing," replies Felix belatedly. He can hear the slight tremor of joy in his voice and struggles to keep his face impassive. Juniper doesn't appear to notice. She leans across a small pile of uncorked bottles to scribble something on a roll of parchment nearly two feet long.

"Well, if you're here for burn salve or anti-venom or...anything really it'll just have to wait," she says testily, without looking up. "Every single thing in here is either empty or unlabeled, it's going to take me at least a week to sort through it all. And all the ingredients are gone off as well, so there's no way to make anything till I've got more. I'm making up a list now, and I'll get it to Guivré just as soon as I can but I don't know how quickly the post runs here, so I really can't give you a time estimate." She runs a distracted hand through her hair, dust leaving a faint white streak.

Felix's lips twitch of their own accord. He clears his throat into his hand to hide them.

"You'd do better to send off for anything you need yourself and then file for reimbursement. You'll get it a good deal faster. Guivré's a hard person to track down and he doesn't consider paperwork a priority. Anything you leave in his office could very well sit there for months."

"Alright then," says Juniper, voice noticeably bereft of her characteristic cheer. She gets to her feet, neatly avoiding the toppling piles of rubbish propped against her, and rolls up her parchment. "I'll do it myself. I don't suppose you could point me to the post office? The bloke who showed me in took my owl from me. He said something about them not being allowed to fly here?"

"Yes, there's no loose owls allowed on the Reserve. They have to be kept at the Post Office and flown in designated areas. Apparently, they used to fly over the dragon habitats and get eaten. Cost the Reserve a fortune in recompense." Felix trails away when he realises Juniper hasn't heard a word. She’s turning round in a circle, eyes on the floor, kicking aside debris with increasingly frantic movements. "Have you lost something?"

"My wand," Juniper exclaims angrily, now patting the pockets of her dust-covered jeans. She lets out a groan of frustration when she finds nothing. Carefully circumventing a pile of jagged glass, Felix steps forward and plucks the wand from the back of Juniper's hair. He offers it to her, failing to keep the amusement from his eyes and mouth. Juniper snatches it away from him, face flushed with shame or anger, he isn't sure which.

"You seem...bothered," Felix comments, taking care not to smile.

"It's just... been a long morning." Juniper rubs the bridge of her nose and sighs deeply. "People've been in and out since I got in. Half of them want things I don't have and get pissed when I don't have it, like they thought I would show up with an endless supply of potions in tow? And then the other half don't even need anything, they just want to ask me questions about the Cursed Vaults or my brother or whether I'm currently seeing anyone!" She wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Like that's the first thing I'm thinking about! It's my first day at my first job, I've not had time to change or eat or use the bloody toilet, but yes, let me choose a dinner companion."

Felix's tightly coiled tension unwinds, and for the first time that morning he's able to relax. A distant part of him registers guilt that he wasn't there to help make Juniper's arrival more hospitable, but that can be easily improved, now he's confident none of the dragonologists will be winning the betting pool anytime soon.

"Has no one showed you around yet?"

Juniper shakes her head. "No. Guivré had some bloke take my things from me at the gate and then led me straight here."

"Well then," Felix relieves Juniper of her roll of parchment and gestures to the door. "Let me give you the grand tour."

"What?" Juniper meets his eyes, and Felix wonders if he's imagining wariness in them. "That's - really ok. I'm sure you've got loads to do, and I should probably stay and sort through this mess."

"It's been sitting like this for nearly a year, it'll wait another few hours," Felix assures her. When she continues to look uncertain, he adds wryly, "What kind of gentleman would I be if I let your first day here be all misery?" And with mock solemnity, Felix offers Juniper his arm.

Juniper blinks. The harassed expression fades, and her eyes twinkle with something more like her usual humour.

"I thought you were a dragonologist now, not a gentleman."

"They're not mutually exclusive."

Felix winks, and a familiar smile spreads slowly up the side of Juniper's face.

"Very well," she replies, taking his arm with excessive ceremony. "Lead on."

Their first stop is the Post Office, where Juniper confirms her owl is settled and is able to send off her list of necessary ingredients to Diagon Alley. Then a short perambulation around the cul-de-sac allows Felix to point out the shop, the pub, and the mess.

"There's three meals a day offered there. It's all free, but it tastes it. I recommend the pub whenever possible."

Juniper's head swivels about following Felix's finger as he names each building.

"Is this it then?" she asks as he leads her onto the path leading to the dragon habitats.

"Yes, apart from the flats. They're on the opposite side of the village."

"Five buildings constitutes a village?"

"You were expecting Hogsmeade?"

"No, not exactly. I guess I just thought...I don't know... that it'd be bigger. Isn't it the largest dragon sanctuary in the world?"

Felix chuckles. "Yes, it is. The largest dragon sanctuary not dragonologist sanctuary. Most of the land is dedicated to the dragon habitats. There's at least two of every known dragon species living here, and they each need several leagues of land to be comfortable and to safely kept from each other. Dragons don't play well together."

"I see," Juniper says, nodding absently. She's fallen a bit behind Felix, constantly turning side to side to take in the scenery.

"It's beautiful here," she observes and Felix feels as puffed with pride as though he had cultivated the landscape himself.

"Yes," he agrees. "There's a bit of everything here. Terrain to suit each dragon. Over that way's the mountain where they keep the Longhorns and the Shortsnouts. And the valley on the other side are for the Opaleyes. There's even an enormous lake for the Ridgeback."

"Where do the Peruvian Viperteeth live?" asks Juniper eagerly.

"Vipertooths is the appropriate plural," Felix corrects. "And our habitat's just up the path there. It's hills mostly, with a small wooded area. They tried to cultivate a miniature jungle there, but whoever was responsible for it had never actually seen a jungle before so it's really just an eclectic forest."

"Can I see them?" The bubbling excitement in Juniper's voice is too much for Felix to maintain his staid self-control, and he laughs. He can't remember the last time he laughed like this, warm and full and real.

"Where do you think I'm taking you?"

The prospect of seeing dragons lends speed to Juniper's feet until she's practically skipping next to a still-chuckling Felix. They turn off the path, and Felix leads the way to the hidden paddock.

Juniper's face is pressed nearly flat against the window, as she searches every direction for a sign of a bronze dragon.

"She's bound to come back this way soon," Felix reassures. "There's more tree cover over here and she prefers to stay in the shade once it's gets too warm in the afternoons."

They stand together quietly for a moment watching the tree line, so close their shoulders almost touch. Each time Juniper turns her head, the smell of lavender and that other scent Felix can never identify wafts toward him. Something hot kindles to life in his lower abdomen but before it can become too distracting Juniper's curiousity comes to the rescue.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course," says Felix in relief.

"What is it you actually do? I mean... in Peru you were running around chasing dragons, stopping them from eating people and everything, and I assume you're not doing that anymore. So, what do you do here?"

The question confuses Felix at first, until he remembers how little they've communicated in the last year. He adopts the old self-assured voice he always used when tutoring younger students.

"Well, there's two resident dragonologists to each dragon breed, and we're responsible for their upkeep: feeding them, keeping them healthy, preventing them from escaping. We get a team of assistants but that changes regularly, everything pretty much falls to us. We take notes about their behaviour and write down basically everything that happens with them each day and keep it on file so other dragonologists and magizoologists can use it for research. We've also nearly always got some sort of researcher that needs access to the dragons for a paper or experiment or whatnot and they want looking after and questions answered. It's quite a bit more paperwork than being a dragonologist in the field."

"Interesting," murmurs Juniper, now watching Felix instead of the window.

"Really?" he asks, cursing the hated blush that colours his cheeks.

"Of course. You never really think about that side of it, do you? That being a Dragonologist is more than just stunning spells and dodging flame. Most people think-"

A rush of whistling wind interrupts Juniper before she can explain what most people think, and she turns to the window eagerly.

"Look up," Felix tells her. Juniper's nose hits the glass as she cranes her neck to watch the copper-coloured dragon descend at a breathtaking pace onto the sloping hill in front of them. Felix spares a quick glance at the dragon to determine which it is before returning his gaze to Juniper, watching with satisfaction as her mouth falls slightly open.

"It's gorgeous," she breathes, hands now pressed against the window beside her face, as if she might feel the warm scales through the enchanted glass.

"She."

"She?"

Felix nods. "That's a female. You can tell by the small ridge of spikes around her eyes. I caught her terrorizing a little village near the Pacaya-Samiria reserve."

"You caught her?" Juniper asks in awed disbelief.

"Well, my team and I."

Outside the paddock, the sparkling dragon stretches her wings leisurely and wriggles her long snake-like body from snout to tail as if shaking off dust. She slithers regally toward the tangled trees near the paddock, and wraps herself around a large trunk.

"Can we go see her?' Juniper asks eagerly.

"Not unless you'd like to lose a limb. I'm afraid Gen's particularly bloodthirsty."

"Her name's Gen?"

"It's short for Genièvre.”

"Where does that come from?" asks Juniper curiously, but before Felix has to think up a suitable excuse, movement registers out of the corner of his eye.

He and Juniper both turn to inspect the small group of wizards now trotting down the hill from the direction the dragon had come. Felix recognizes Rashbold leading a team of assistants, each dragging bulky sacks behind them. He's about to explain the glamourous world of the Reserve's dragon dung trade when Juniper cries, "Charlie!" and waves frantically at one of the sack-laden assistants. All Felix's high spirits deflate as he recognises the flaming hair.

"He can't hear you," he tells her brusquely. "The glass is enchanted. We can see out but they can't see in."

"Oh, too bad. I hope his first day's better than mine."

Felix retreats to the back of the paddock and leans against the wall, arms crossed, watching Juniper watch Charlie cart his sack down the hill toward the habitat's entrance. From here it doesn't look like the Weasley boy has changed much in appearance. He's still quite short, Felix's notes with a savage pleasure, but there's no denying he's exceptionally well-built for his size. First Barnaby, now Weasley; Juniper clearly has a type.

"So," asks Felix unsure whether it's courage or weakness that prompts the question. "You and Charlie are..."

When he can't complete his sentence, Juniper turns curiously. "Are what?"

Felix can feel his face heat and looks down, feigning interest in the tops of his boots. "Together?"

"What, you mean like together together?" Juniper giggles, a gossiping school-girl sort of sound. "No, of course not."

The answer is entirely unexpected. Hope flickers to life inside Felix like a candle flame, but he refuses to let it warm him.

"Really?" he replies skeptically. "You just came here together by coincidence, then?"

"Well, no it's not exactly a coincidence.I mean, we're friends. Well, the sort of friends that when Charlie found out where I'd applied he threatened to jinx me if I didn't ask about a job for him as well."

"Sounds like he really wanted to work with you," presses Felix, and Juniper laughs again, a comfortable laugh as if he'd told an old favorite joke.

"You clearly don't know Charlie," she says between chuckles. Catching sight of Felix's flat expression, Juniper calms herself enough to explain. "Look, you know how some guys like girls and some guys like guys? Well, Charlie just likes dragons. That's all he ever thinks about, every day, all the time. That's why we got to be such good friends, actually. All our other friends got to be obsessed with dating and romance and for a while it was like you couldn't ever hang out with anyone without wondering if they really liked you or wanted to secretly date you or something. It was exhausting. But with Charlie I never had to worry about that and he never had to worry about that with me, so we could just study in peace."

It's as though the storm clouds over Felix's head have parted and the sun is shining on him fully for the first time in months. He feels lighter than air, and his breathing is full and easy. A weight has been lifted off his chest he didn't know he'd been carrying. Too late, he realises he's grinning and he can't switch it off. Juniper's notices as well.

"What's so funny?" she asks, mirroring his smile automatically.

Felix ignores her question. Instead, he grabs her hand, pulling her away from the window and toward the exit. Joy has gifted him a brilliant idea, and he can't wait even a second to put it into action.

"There's something I want you to see."

“Are we nearly there?”

“Nearly.”

“That's what you said twenty minutes ago,” Juniper grumbles, but Felix can hear the laughter in it.

“And it was true then, too.” Felix races down the winding path that leads to the deeper dragon habitats, Juniper in tow. When the trees disappear entirely and the hills grow higher and sharper, he speeds up.

“Felix, come on, my legs are killing me.”

“It's just up this hill, I promise." His grin feels like it might sprout wings and fly off his face and Juniper can’t help but laugh at it as she clambers up the hill behind him.

"Merlin's Beard, Felix, this had better be worth-"

Juniper stops abruptly as she reaches the hill top. She stares down at the other side, eyes very wide.

“Is that...“

“Yes,” says Felix softly. Juniper presses a hand tightly to her mouth.

Below them, a dragon trots gaily across the grass chasing what appears from the colour to be an enchanted quaffle. A wizard nearby directs the progress of the ball with his wand, and the large green dragon follows it closely. Every few paces, it leaps into the air, catching wind under it's right wing and gliding forward to snap long white fangs at the ball before landing back onto the ground gracefully. It tosses its emerald head and emits a musical snort like a trumpet call.

"Sparky..." Juniper's voice is thick and wet, and Felix realises with an ebb of his high-spirits that tears are streaming down her face.

"Are you crying?" The question tumbles from him as soon as he thinks it, before he can register how stupid it sounds. It's obvious she's crying, what isn't obvious is why. And though Felix casts around frantically for a reason, he can't come up with anything that makes sense.

"Yes," Juniper replies wiping roughly at her eyes with her sleeve. "Sorry. It happens a lot more now than it used to."

"But what...what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong...I promise. I'm just..." A choked sob prevents any more coherent explanation. Felix can only stand helplessly while Juniper sobs loudly into her hands, Sparky still prancing below them.

"I'm sorry," Felix offers, though the words feel wholly inadequate and he isn't even sure what he ought to be sorry for. "I thought you'd like to see him."

Juniper shakes her head quickly, trying to speak through her tears. "I would...I mean, I do. It's wonderful. It's just.." She sniffs loudly. "I don't know, I just can't believe...that I'm here. I'm really here."

"What do you mean?" asks Felix cautiously.

"I mean, here. At the Romanian Reserve. I always wanted to come here and...visit Sparky one day. But I never thought... I mean...I never really thought I'd get out of school alive, you know? I didn't think...I'd make it.." Juniper looks down at Sparky once more. "But I did...I'm here. It's over and...I can't believe it."

It's as though the last year has never occurred. The final vestiges of Felix's twisted anger and resentment and confusion shrink to nothing. All he can feel is the same familiar, overwhelming love for Juniper he remembers, and that primal desire to make anything hurting her disappear.

"Come here." Felix wraps his arms around Juniper's shaking shoulders and lets her bury her wet face against his chest. He holds her to him delicately, unable to keep from savouring the feeling of her body pressed against his once more. "You did make it. It's all over now." Felix strokes her windswept hair softly. "And things are going to be so much better from now on. I promise."

Missed the last bits? Here’s the link to the masterpost.

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centaurianthropology · 6 years ago

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The Magnus Archives ‘Web Development’ (S04E03) Analysis

A spooky Web in the web, and a return to anything but normal. Something tells me that the journey of the Archival staff is going to be a long one from here, and none of them are in a good place. Come on in to hear what I have to say about ‘Web Development’.

So we got a little more context for what’s happened in the six months Jon’s been in a coma. It seems that, given that the Beholding has NEVER taken a shot at a ritual (really?), and may be one of the few that hasn’t at least made the effort, every other power sat up and took notice. Which meant that the Archives specifically, and the Magnus Institute in general has been under siege. The Flesh at least has made one attempt on the Archives, largely defeated by Melanie.

And Melanie really isn’t doing well at all. She’s unstable, furious, disbelieving that Jon could possibly be himself, and seemed to barely keep from killing him outright. Her fall to the Slaughter seems to be progressing very fast indeed, likely egged on by the necessity that she do any monster headed their way violence. Losing Tim and Daisy also hit her hard, and she’s jealously guarding the few people she has left. And it seems like she views Jon as a threat as well.

And Melanie isn’t the only one giving themselves over to another power in order to keep the Archives safe. I would imagine that even the ‘safety’ they’re afforded now is being bought by Martin’s continued work with Peter Lukas, who has extended the Lonely’s protection over the staff of the Institute in Elias’ absence.

But in turn, not only are the various departments being put into less and less contact with one another—effectively isolating the Archival staff even more—but Martin himself is being taken away. He’s the only direct emissary to Peter, and all other communication is done through email. It’s interesting that, when we recall Peter’s appearances in the show thus far, they have been exclusively around Elias or Martin. I think Peter marked Martin out as an easy target well before his takeover, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Martin wasn’t part of the arrangement between himself and Elias.

Martin might not even know Jon is back yet, or could know, but may have been instructed to stay away from him lest dire consequences happen. It’s good to know that Basira, at least, doesn’t blame Martin for what’s happening, and even seems to understand that he and Melanie are doing very similar things to keep her and Jon safe, albeit in very different ways.

And speaking of Basira, it was worrisome exactly HOW detached she really seems to be. It may be the grief of Melanie’s death or the shock of so much horror happening at once, but her equanimity is setting off alarm bells in my head. The fact that she doesn’t know what to do about Melanie, and isn’t bothering to try, that she’s essentially holed herself up in the Archives and seems willing to let whatever horrific things might play out to those around her proceed without interference is also worrisome.

She’s been around the Beholding for a while, with a natural affinity for the power. And I worry that Basira, like the others, is succumbing to a Power, but hers is the Beholding. It’s urging dispassion, observation, standing back and letting things play out with as much emotional involvement as a scientist watching bacteria grow and die on a plate. I don’t even know if she realizes that’s what’s happening to her, but I’m almost 100% convinced that it is. Because she’s always been self-contained, but this detachment? It reminds me of Gertrude.

Jon, at least, seems fully emotionally engaged, which is a relief after last week. His consternation that Melanie would be angry at him for a six-month coma, his shock that she would hate him so much she would threaten him physically (something even Tim never did), and the growling anger that Martin seems to be voluntarily working with Peter Lukas all do speak to emotional engagement, albeit that very specific, very selfish engagement that is Jon all over.

After my worries last week that the Archivist is stronger in him now, this is at least somewhat comforting. His jealousy over Martin’s current predicament might still also be influenced by the Archivist, and the Beholding’s possessive attitude toward Martin. Because while Jon certainly seems concerned about Melanie’s state of mind, he doesn’t seem jealous that she’s being stolen by the Slaughter. The jealousy seems far more related to Martin. Maybe that’s because the Beholding’s had Martin for a decade, while it never really had its hooks into Melanie properly. Maybe it’s because Jon is just realizing he has more of a personal connection with Martin than he thought he did, and Melanie he just doesn’t know as well. I think it’s mostly likely a bit of both. Jon and the Archivist are blended in a way they weren’t previously, so much so that its influence on him will be insidious. Change him in subtle ways rather than obvious ones.

But Melanie knows he’s different. Georgie knew it too. This is Jon, but it’s Jon with new bits tacked on, and for those people who either knew Jon before or who are primed to sniff out the differences, this man who’s come back is pinging all of their alarms.

We’ll have to see how everything plays out, because it seems that the team is stuck together for the long haul. If these attacks on the Archives are as common as Basira implies, they won’t be going home often. Jon and Melanie’s conflict can’t possibly be dealt with so easily, if only because they can’t help but remain in proximity. And if Basira isn’t interested in helping them sort things out, it may be down to Jon to be diplomatic and empathetic.

Because that’s not guaranteed to end in disaster.

As for the statement itself, it’s classic web, though it’s interesting that it seems to also be a bit of technology too. The notion that the next fear will be technological isn’t confirmed by any means, but I still thought of it, given the context.

But this is almost certainly the Web, given the secretive website that moves around with gibberish in its code, its demand for stories to be spun and given to it in exchange for killing someone—and apparently those who fail to satisfy whatever entity receives the stories will mete out a cruel fate to those who wrote the story. At least, that is if the thing that Angie and Greg encountered under the street lamp, filled to brimming with spiders and screaming in pain, is any indication. It also very much sounded like the person who hired Greg may have been Annabel Caine.

And of course, Carlos Vittery, he of the spider that wouldn’t go away, is back in the story, as his name appeared on the list. It’s very possible that he died because someone submitted his name and a story that met with the approval of the ‘story-spinner’.

And much like previous victims of the Web, once snared Greg couldn’t help but go deeper and deeper, his own passivity lending him excuses, but the compulsion to serve also still there. This almost-hypnosis is very much another hallmark of the Web.

But what really interested me was the demand for stories. This doesn’t feel like a Web thing so much as a Beholding thing. That got me wondering if the spiders don’t live in the tunnels under the Institute because they also feed on stories, albeit in a very different way. For one thing, it doesn’t sound like the Web requires a story to be true to feed on it. In fact, given the Web’s nature, I would wonder if the ‘discredited’ stories that we don’t hear on the podcast are actually what are feeding the web. All those lies and half-truths and delusions are feeding it. It makes the Web a bit of a scavenger, which I think also fits its tendency to play all other Powers off and against one another.

Of another interesting note, I tried looking up Calisari, but the best I could find online was Călușari, a Romanian secret society that performed a dance called the căluș which involved the impression that they could fly. This was to imply the flight of fairies, and their leader was called the Queen of the Fairies. Despite this name, the group was apparently male-only, and often thought of as disturbed. I’m not sure if this ties into the name or not, but that’s what I found. I couldn’t find information during my brief Wikipedia foray on their beliefs or reasons for being a secret society. Just that they were dancers who liked to imitate flight.

What this has to do with the Web, if anything, is a mystery to me.

Conclusions

“I wish I could talk it through with Martin … or Tim, or Sasha. But we never really did that, did we? Everything’s changed. Two days out of a coma, and I’m already tired.”

And in one line, I was destroyed. Thanks Jonny, I didn’t need those feels anyway.

While the statement was a solid bit of spooky fiction, Jon’s reality seems more and more desolate. Everyone he used to rely on isn’t available now. Georgie’s stepped back, Basira seems to only want to interact with him at a great emotional distance, Melanie wants to hurt him if he’s in the same room as she is, and Martin’s just … gone. I would say that last one is Jon’s best hope for reestablishing a connection, but we don’t know what the Lonely has done to Martin at this point.

But he is the person Jon keeps mentioning first. He’s the one that Jon shows real anger about losing, even moreso than Tim or Daisy. The reasons for this are probably tangled up in the Archivist, but a part of it is also clearly that Martin is the last speck of Jon’s life before the horror he’s got left. Martin, who was always sweet and considerate, who brought him tea and sandwiches. Martin, who Jon must know by now was in love with him. May still be in love with him.

And as for Jon’s feelings on the matter, I doubt he knows. As much as Jon knows his wants and needs, he’s almost at the same remove from his emotions as Basira is to everyone else’s. But he does dwell, and so I would think that would be the relationship he wants to start with rebuilding. Tracking down Martin is likely not to be easy, but given Jon’s depression and isolation, I think it’s necessary. After that, trying to break through to Basira and Melanie might be easier with two people working at it.

#The Magnus Archives #analysis

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sapphoesie · 7 years ago

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11 Questions Tag - Part III

Thanks to the lovely @starzablaze @captain-timetraveldreamer @readinglikewildfire for tagging me!

1. Favorite smell? Cinnamon 2. Music preferences, and recs, if any. I have really eclectic music tastes and like a tonne of stuff. 3. If you were a famous personality, what would your most celebrated quote be? I don’t tend to remember the memorable stuff I say 😂 4. Favorite weather and favorite season. 15-20 degrees Celsius and Spring 5. Favorite beverage? Tea! (yorkshire tea) 6. Name 5 of your hobbies. Traveling, writing, bullet journaling and regular journaling, people-watching and reading of course. 7. What do you do when you’re sad or royally pissed? I answered this question for sad in Part II so I’ll just say what I do when I’m pissed. I don’t get angry that easily but when I do I need to vent because I’m hate confrontations and I’d always rather calm myself down then start fights. 8. Ideal s/o Intelligent, kind, caring, honest, funny and thoughtful. 9. Moon or stars? Why? Stars because you can almost always seen the moon but the seeing the stars is more special. Also, there’s a meteor shower (The Perseids) every year for a few days around the time of my birthday so every single year since I was little I’ve sat and watched the shooting stars on my birthday with my friends or parents and made a bunch of additional birthday wishes so I’ve always loved the stars. 10. When did you join Tumblr and why? Ages ago! Probably 5-6 years ago I don’t even remember. I had an aesthetic blog first and then got into fandom and just tried out loads of things. I started posting on this blog in March of this year though because I had the biggest book hangover after reading ACOMAF and knew I had to delve into the depths of Tumblr for fanart and fic because I was already trash 11. Eye and hair color + nature? Eye colour - hazel; Hair colour - silvery white (but my natural hair colour is light brown)

1. Dusk or Dawn and why? Dusk! Dawn kinda creeps up on you really slowly but the sun puts on a real show at twilight and it’s pretty hard to ignore. I sit in silence and watch at least 2 minutes of the sunset almost every single day. 2. Are you a tea or coffee kind of person? Tea 3. A story of a mischief done by you in your childhood. I skipped school when I was 9, before I even knew what skipping school was. I hated English class so I convinced a bunch of my friends not to go to our English class which was our last one for the day. We told the rest of our classmates that they were giving out free toys in the school shop so we could leave without being seen and for some reason they believed us and went except for this one girl who stayed behind, saw us leave and told on us afterwards. When the parent teacher conference happened, the parents of all the other kids who had cut class knew about it but my mum was the only one who had no idea because I never told her. Needless to say she was angry 😂 4. If you were given a wish what would you wish for? To adapt to life in Australia quickly and easily and to have fun on my year abroad before I go back home. 5. What do you wish to change about yourself and the world? I wish to be less harsh and critical and demanding of myself and I wish the world was more kind and empathetic. 6. Outdoor attire preferences?(fancy) As in formal wear? Chiffon, satin or silk are my go to fabrics because they kind of flow really nicely over every curve. I like pretty classic cuts, tight at the waist, flowing down and with more of a plunging neckline. 7. Which book character do you want to be your other half and why? I think either Dorian Havilliard, Cassian or Julian Blackthorn. They are all kind, compassionate, intelligent and loyal. 8. What would you do if you were given a million dollars? I’ve answered this in part I so I’ll just skip it now 9. Favourite colour and eye colour I don’t really have a favourite colour but I’ll say blue and favourite eye colour is blue too. 10. If you had to choose between your family and boyfriend, who would you choose? Family. 11. Favourite TV show and rec Friends, Parks and Rec, the Office, Game of Thrones.

1. Do you have any piercings or tattoos, what are they? I don’t have any tattoos but I have 5 piercings: four lobe piercings, two in each ear and a helix piercing. 2. Who is your style icon? Alexa Chung. Emily Ratajkowski. Jane Birkin. Vanessa Hudgens. Orion Carloto. Kate La Vie. (do yourself a favour and look these last two up on insta because they are so fab!) 3. Are you a night shower or a morning shower person? Night shower. 4. What do you study at school if you are at school? If you’re not at school what do you do instead? I’m at university and I study (broadcast) journalism. 5. Do you speak multiple languages? What are they? I’m fluent in English and Romanian, intermediate in French, can understand a lot of Italian and know a bunch of random words and phrases in so many other languages like Spanish, German or Japanese because I love linguistics so much! 6. What do you like most about where you live? I normally live in the UK but I’ve just moved 2 days ago and I didn’t time to see much of the new country where I live now so I’m going to say what I like best about the UK which is the weather. I bitch and moan about it all the time but as someone who’s lived in places where it gets really hot or really cold, the English weather is pretty decent most of the time. 7. Favorite piece of jewellery, why? My pandora bracelet. I’ve had it for 4 years now and worn it every single day. Every charm has been a gift and it has a special meaning to me. 8. Whats one random fact about yourself? I get pins and needles in my limbs extremely easily. 9. TOG or ACOTAR? UGH! How can I choose?! ACOTAR just because I’ve read ACOWAR last and it’s more recent and fresh in my mind. 10. Do you like fantasy books with a lot of romance or does it not really matter to you? I love romance so I prefer if the book has loads of romance in it but I don’t read books with a romance element exclusively. 11. Favorite color! I don’t really have one but blue I guess.

I tag: @wpbianca99 @cass-ian @cassianandfenrysaremyboyos @highfaenesta @highlady-casandra @ultimaterowan @ships-and-saints @azrielsiphons

1. If you could only do three of these for the rest of your life which would you choose: reading, writing, dancing, singing, watching TV/films, playing sports, travelling. 2. What’s your most prized possession? 3. What’s one thing everyone should have? 4. How do you unwind after a long day? 5. What are 3 pet peeves of yours? 6. If you don’t like a book do you stop reading it or do you persist in the hopes that it will get better? 7. What’s the most beautiful place you’ve seen? 8. What’s a name you really like that you’d use for a character or future child? 9. What’s one thing you wish you had the courage to do? 10. What’s the nicest compliment you’ve ever received? 11. Have you ever done a random act of kindness or had a stranger do one for you?

#tag

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travelonlinetips-blog · 6 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://travelonlinetips.com/ryanair-passengers-hoping-for-quick-flight-to-greece-find-themselves-24-hours-late-and-three-countries-away/

Ryanair passengers hoping for quick flight to Greece find themselves 24 hours late and three countries away

Ryanair flight FR8582 left Stansted Airport a little late at 5.19pm on Friday afternoon, but was still expected to arrive in Thessaloniki before 10pm – in time for a drink by the harbourside in Greece’s second city.

But while the Boeing 737 was over the former Yugoslav republic of Macedonia, about 125 miles from its destination, fog at the Greek airport triggered a diversion. Thessaloniki AIrport is adjacent to the Thermaic Gulf, and susceptible to fog.

The obvious diversion airport was Skopje, serving the Macedonian capital – from which overland transport to the intended destination would have been straightforward.

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But instead the aircraft, with nearly 200 passengers on board, flew northeast into Bulgarian airspace. It passed close to Sofia, Bulgaria’s capital, but did not land there.

The track then switched northwest, back towards Stansted, and eventually the aircraft landed at Timisoara in northwest Romania. The city is close to the Hungarian border and nearly 500 miles – and two international frontiers – from Thessaloniki.

The inbound flight from Thessaloniki to Stansted due late on Friday night was cancelled. It is understood the diverted aircraft returned empty from Timisoara to Stansted.

It has been suggested that the decision was taken because Ryanair has a base at the Romanian airport, making service recovery easier.

But on social media passengers and their loved ones claimed that the airline had failed in its duty of care to them.

Sanji Hewson tweeted: “My parents & 200 passengers of FR8582 @Ryanair from LDN to SKG [Thessaloniki’s airport code] have been stranded in Timisoara airport due to weather. No one in sight and no one answering phones. Babies and elderly spending the night in the cold.”

A passenger, “Christine Kyr”, tweeted: “The people are abandoned in Timisoara Airport without being given any alternatives. The airport staff is forcing them to leave.”

Mystery tour: the flightpath of Friday’s Ryanair flight from Stansted to Thessaloniki in Greece (FlightRadar24)

She added that the airline “is only offering one ‘solution’ to the passengers of FR8582 and that is to get on an old bus for 18 hours with the same driver.”

Ryanair’s terms say: “If, for reasons outside our control, we are unable to land at the airport at your destination and are diverted so as to land at another airport then the carriage by air shall, unless the aircraft continues to the original destination, be deemed to be completed when the aircraft arrives at that other airport.

“We shall, however, arrange or designate alternative transportation, whether by our own services or by other means of transportation specified by us to carry you to the original destination as set out in your confirmation/itinerary without additional cost.” Eighty-nine passengers refused to take the bus, and instead spent the night at the airport.

In the end, the Greek government sent an Aegean Airlines aircraft to Timisoara, which flew passengers to Thessaloniki, where they arrived nearly 24 hours later than scheduled.

Other viable diversion airports include Athens and Tirana, the Albanian capital.

The Independent has contacted Ryanair for a response.

Because the cause of the diversion was poor weather, there is no entitlement to cash compensation under European air passengers’ rights rules.

Support free-thinking journalism and subscribe to Independent Minds

It came after Ryanair was voted the worst airline serving the UK for the sixth year in a row. The low-cost airline scored a customer rating of just 40 per cent in Which?’s annual survey.

Participants were asked to rate airlines on boarding, seats, comfort, refreshments and the cabin environment.

Out of the 7,901 respondents who were asked if there was one airline with which they would never travel, 70 per cent named Ryanair.

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scottmapess · 5 years ago

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