#discovery s1e1

[biblioflyer]

Burnham is not "always right": The Vulcan Hello (Rewatch)

Just a snap reaction. I'm struck by the sense that yes, in some sense, this first episode is headed to deconstruction. Starfleet is definitely depicted as extremely decent. To the point where Burnham and Georgiou are on a mission to discreetly dig a well that is beyond the capabilities of the local species. Its very much a setup for an innocence lost, but ultimately regained - at least in part story.

More to the point, and this is going out on a limb here, without having rewatched the next episode, my gut is telling me I've been right for a long time. Namely that this is an example of a situation where Burnham was objectively wrong and narratively wrong. Which also undermines one of the most prolific critiques of the series.

Had she backed Saru and persuaded Georgiou to withdraw the Shenzou there is a good chance they lose track of the coffin ship if it decides to cloak again which is a very serious risk, but - and Burnham doesn't know this yet - it will probably undermine T'Kuvma. Had T'Kuvma lit the beacon and the Klingon armada met empty space, there's a strong possibility that the other House Leaders grouse about him screwing around with ancient artifacts, if not outright blaspheming to try and assert moral authority over the other Houses. Maybe he gets a chance to bribe them with his cloaking technology and maybe he doesn't, but the way I remember it, its the fleet battle and his subsequent martyrdom that unites the Klingons.

On the other hand, if Burnham got her way, there's two scenarios. One is that she gets the shot off before Voq departs to light the beacon. The chronology is a bit ambiguous but I don't even think T'Kuvma decloaks until Voq is away. But lets say that T'Kuvma decloaks because he needs to for Voq to depart or as a distraction to buy Voq time. So IF Shenzou's sucker punch works, the bridge neck is hit, the ship is crippled or destroyed and the beacon isn't lit, then its all sunshine and roses. Mission accomplished.

Maybe.

I still think there's a good chance that maybe someone comes along later, discovers that T'Kuvma got himself killed messing with the Federation, and it provokes a Klingon blood debt or something something honor. We're led to believe T'Kuvma is a savvy operator in politics and religion. We have no earthly idea why he's lighting the beacon now as opposed to years ago (maybe it was lost, due to the whole scattering field thing) but perhaps it has to do with internal Klingon dynamics. Maybe he's spotted a Gordian Knot in Klingon society and has decided never to let a good crisis go to waste, so he's going to start a war with the Federation because his instincts tell him that if he plays his cards right, this is a doable thing.

The second scenario is that Shenzou gets her sucker punch in only after Voq lights the beacon or Voq is able to light the beacon after T'Kuvma gets himself blown up. Maybe the other Houses arrive and decide T'Kuvma was a mad lad and he got what he had coming to him. On the other hand - and maybe something will come to me a few episodes later - I'm not aware of anything at this juncture that alters the fundamentals of T'Kuvma being martyred. I'm not at all sure why it matters if it was from giving Shenzou taking him out or from a Starfleet boarding team offing him in a rescue attempt that turns into an accidental assassination. Clearly while T'Kuvma is some sort of outsider type, his death at the hands of the Federation is hugely significant - if not to the House Leaders, then to their constituents who must have a fair number of devotees and sympathizers in their ranks.

Given that by the end of the season, Burnham will have disavowed preemptive violence and doubled down on Starfleet's original mission and ethos, I feel very confident in saying Episode One Burnham is wrong and she's not just wrong from a Watsonian standpoint, we are supposed to understand from the narrative that she's wrong. She will spend the entire season and maybe the next three seasons even trying to live down this mistake because I think its rather critical to understanding the character and her trajectory that had she taken Saru's side, Shenzou and her crewmates may have lived and a war might have been avoided.

That it might take three years and saving the Federation three times and the galaxy twice to get herself to a place where she really thinks she deserves to be in Starfleet, let alone as a Captain, really puts things into context. A context that the comment sections of the usual places are content to ignore because they are stuck on the idea that Burnham is right because of narrative fiat.

Also Sarek is a terrible, terrible father and this is one retcon that I think doesn't work. Maybe it will improve. Spock and Sarek had their differences yes, but prior to Discovery, I think it would be fair to read it that they were deeply principled individuals that clashed at the level of application of those principles. Like a PHD whose profoundly gifted child decides to join the military rather than joining a think tank to draft policy. This version of Sarek and his obsession with making a human into a Vulcan is difficult to watch and kind of less interesting, personally.

On the subject of retcons, if the idea is that an aggressive response to T’Kuvma’s ship prowling inside the extreme edge of Federation space and potentially menacing colonists is supposed to be objectively correct or at least more narratively ambiguous, this is where the TOS setting conceits actually would work way better. Namely that Starfleet is spread “age of sail” thin and comms with the nearest higher authority take hours or longer.

This is actually really reminiscent of the scenario in Master and Commander which I rewatched over the weekend with Shenzou as HMS Surprise and T’Kuvma’s ship as the French heavy frigate Acheron. What compels “Lucky Jack” to hunt a ship that’s faster, more resilient, outguns, and out ranges Surprise is that Surprise really is the only one who can conceivably run down Acheron before she takes more British merchants. Even though it’s suicidal, there’s no backup coming it’s just Surprise trying to pull off a desperate win or choosing life but condemning every civilian in Acheron’s path.

Shenzou being in real time contact with Starfleet and half a Wolf 359’s worth of ships being two hours away makes the idea of a preemptive strike against a game changing major threat noble, assuming it doesn’t start a war or war is inevitable unless this incursion is decisively defeated before it can get going, but ultimately undermines the whole idea that Shenzou must be decisive in order not to show weakness. Taking a big risk and staying to monitor this new cloaking dreadnought or regrouping with the fleet to rapidly deploy to at risk colonies are both very sensible with the information Georgiou has. For the conventional Starfleet thinker, Burnham’s historical analogy doesn’t seem to map to a Federation that has spent the last century having the luxury of trying to unravel the cultural ambiguities that can lead to conflict because apparently it can whistle up a task force pretty darn fast.

The weird bullying of Saru on the bridge also doesn't sit well with me. If he's that timid, how did he advance in Starfleet? He must be extremely competent and deserve his position, so why set everyone up to act like he's a coward? I really think they would have done him more justice by making him a stronger and more articulate advocate for deescalation. If the narrative needs to prove him wrong, then the narrative proves him wrong, but at least give him a good argument. I suppose he got stuck being the weenie because Georgiou needed to be the cooler head mediating between him and Burnham, but I think it could have been handled better.

[lifewithaview]

Teresa Palmer in A Discovery of Witches (2018) S1E1

Things get creepy for historian and closet witch, Diana Bishop, when she calls up a magical manuscript. Her discovery is about to throw her back into the world of magic and into the path of Matthew Clairmont, a centuries old vampire.

*The scenes in the library are all taken from the Duke Humphrey's Libary in the Bodleian Library, the oldest reading room of the renowned library. It used to be closed off from the public and only used for special collections and manuscript consultations, but is now open to all readers of the Bodleian.

[humbledragon669]

S1E1 – In The Beginning Write Up P3

– Five Years Later (allegedly) and The Present Day

Alright so let’s address the elephant in the room here shall we? The signpost tells us, in no uncertain terms, that the story line has moved on by five years. I have a serious issue with that assertion, and it’s not just because this is in direct contradiction to the storyline in the book. It goes a little something like this:

I cannot believe that Aziraphale and Crowley have left the Antichrist alone for the first five years of his life.

Even if we’re generous here and say that Crowley steps in to replace a nanny that has been present for Warlock’s early years, it simply doesn’t make any sense that they would have sat back and let him develop on his merry way for the most influential years of his life (sorry Neil, but I will die on this hill). The book’s timeline here makes a lot more sense – that both Aziraphale and Crowley are inserted into Warlock’s life within a week of his birth, Aziraphale as the gardener and Crowley as the nanny. At the age of five, they both leave and return immediately as tutors for him, ensuring that they are both present for his entire childhood. With that in mind, I’m going to do something potentially controversial and adopt the book timeline as fact. It just makes more sense. Also that will make my fanfic ideas not only possible but genuinely really feasible. Honestly, I don’t know why the timeline deviates from the book here – this matter aside, the series is a truly excellent adaptation of the book (judged by the fact that I never said “that’s not how it happened in the book” for the whole of series 1. There are a lot of media writers that could learn a lot from Neil on this point – I’m looking at you Discovery of Witches series 2 creative team).

There are two things I find interesting about the short scene that follows (no, one of them is not how well David carries off a skirt, though I do really appreciate the Mary Poppins reference with that costume). Firstly, the positioning of Aziraphale as a gardener. I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised that the idea of a garden is brought up again, but I can’t quite make the connection myself. Perhaps there isn’t meant to be one. That said, I would have thought, given his character, Aziraphale might have been more suitable as something like a butler (it would even give him the opportunity to steal food!), which would likely give him more opportunity to interact with Warlock throughout his childhood, so I do feel like there’s something here.

On a tangential (and impossible-to-be-related) note, I saw Nye a few days ago (a play about the founder of the NHS, starring Michael, for those who don’t know what this is) and there was a line in it about Nye and his wife believing their love to be like a garden – he planted the love and she tended to it. It was truly beautiful and touching. I felt like I had a sort of light bulb moment about gardens in GO and then realised that the two productions have nothing to do with one another!

The second thing I noted about this sequence is more something of note than something that has meaning. Having discussed the music/soundtrack for this series in a previous write up, it should come as no surprise that there is a cute little parallel here: the melody Crowley uses for the lullaby he sings to Warlock is the same as the melody for the second motif in the theme tune. It’s slowed down quite considerably, but still recognisable.

Original theme:

Lullaby:

I have to say, I’m a little disappointed we don’t get to hear the rendition of “Three Little Pigs” that we’re treated to in the book. I am not ashamed to say that I laughed very long and very hard when I read it – I have a pretty dark sense of humour. Perhaps this was a little too much for the good ol’ BBC?

Quick item of note from the next scene at Heaven/Hell HQ – this series has escalators instead of an elevator. I had originally assumed that this was the same building as we see being used in series 2 to gain access to Heaven but looking at the background when Crowley and Aziraphale enter the building, it’s clear that it’s a completely different building, which just makes me wonder where exactly the HQ entrance is. There’s a really clever piece of editing at use here too, one which I actually didn’t spot until I was doing this write up.

I hadn’t noticed previously that the duplicate image of the escalator on the floor of the lobby ISN’T a reflection of the physical escalators. On the left, we can see Crowley’s image on a set of escalators going down, whilst we see no reflection of Aziraphale. We even get to see Crowley approach the escalator in the “reflection” after he disappears through the floor, whilst Aziraphale’s reflection disappears from the floor as he approaches the stairs, and both of these things happen as they walk across an area that ripples like water under their feet. I don’t think there’s any hidden meaning in this, I just think it’s a really cool piece of film.

When we see the angel and demon giving their reports to their respective head offices, it’s made clear to us that neither authority has any awareness of their collaboration. In fact, Aziraphale is still held in high esteem by Gabriel and Michael (though perhaps not Uriel and Sandalphon – those two always look like someone just pissed on their nice suits) and is even given permission to continue on his apparently futile mission. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of Crowley, but as Liggur said earlier in the episode, it would be a funny thing if demons could trust one another anyway.

It’s nice to see that Heaven isn’t so busy that it can’t produce a newspaper for its earthbound agents, complete with weak headlines, worthy of any local rag:

I do not think it a coincidence that the newspaper has been given the title of “Observer” – after all, it’s pretty much all they do up there isn’t it? Watch people? Other than planning Armageddon I mean…

The short scene on the bus also shows us a little more of the dynamic between Crowley and Aziraphale when it comes to planning. It’s clear that the angel is relying on the demon to lead the way and he looks really worried when it’s made apparent that Crowley doesn’t have a plan for a potential emergency situation.

Quick note about the Hell Hound – he’s being housed in a room with a number on it – 2549. Does this mean there have been 2548 Hell Hounds before him? Hastur certainly indicates that he isn’t the only Hell Hound they have (but he is the biggest). Where are the rest of them?

The conversation (which takes place in the grounds of Crystal Palace Dinosaur Park - the repeated reference to dinosaurs being a big joke in this scene is not lost on me) on the park bench is the first time we hear Crowley call Aziraphale by the name “Angel”. Neil has confirmed (here and here) that this isn’t anything other than a factual name to use but I can’t help but feel like it’s affectionate. It’s certainly very familiar and it’s interesting to see that Aziraphale doesn’t repay the favour; perhaps this is to do with the meaning of the words – after all, calling someone “demon” doesn’t feel very polite, does it? Or perhaps it’s just that “Aziraphale” is a bit of a mouthful to say. This is also the first time we are let in to the secret of them having their own side:

AZIRAPHALE: And if he does name it? CROWLEY: Then you and I have lost.

The conversation around the potential murder of an 11-year-old boy presents an interesting side of the relationship between the pair. I don’t think I’m alone in thinking that the suggestion that Aziraphale is capable of killing an innocent child (even if he is the Antichrist) is nothing short of laughable, and Crowley would know this. This suggestion is shared with a rare occurrence of Crowley communicating “secretly” with Aziraphale where the angel doesn’t get the message, and the irony is that Crowley isn’t even being that subtle about it. There’s no doubt that Aziraphale really doesn’t get the drift though:

It’s painful to watch Aziraphale’s thought process here. He knows that Crowley’s logic actually makes sense but he can’t tally that with his own moral compass – it’s a struggle that I think the vast majority of us would go through if put in the same position. Sadly, it’s not like Crowley has much other choice than to suggest Aziraphale does the deed – if he were to do it himself, the repercussions for him would be unthinkable. It’s clear that this is the first time he has raised this idea in the eleven years they’ve been doing this job together and he can’t even say it without his voice breaking (see “one life against the universe”), and once it’s clear that Aziraphale isn’t open to the idea he doesn’t push him or lose his temper. He watches Aziraphale carefully for the whole exchange, without changing his expression, which I take to mean he’s watching for any signs that he’s pushing him too far.  All of this tells me he’s only done it because they’re getting desperate.

Alright, it’s time to move on to the little “magic” routine. I find this whole sequence adorable - can we say 1941 vibes? I do find it interesting just how quickly Aziraphale’s mood changes with the idea of him being able to perform some magic again – he’s gone from the contemplation of the ethics of an actual trolley problem (see here if you don’t know what that is) to a smiling, bubbly angel complaining that his companion is “no fun” in mere seconds. For someone who lives their life in eons of centuries instead of years or decades, he’s a remarkably fickle being! It’s pretty blurry in this shot, but just look how happy this angel is:

The hidden communication thread is resumed at normal operation here as Crowley knows exactly what Aziraphale means when he says he could “entertain” – he knows exactly what he means by this and is not amused by the implications.

I also find Crowley’s use of the word “demeaning” an interesting choice here. Usually we might say embarrassing; in fact the dictionary definition of demeaning is to lower the character of somebody, or to make them feel less respected. Whilst I can fully understand why Crowley might be embarrassed by Aziraphale’s pathetic attempts at illusionary magic, I am less clear on why he would find it demeaning. UNLESS. Unless my suppositions about the state of their relationship are correct, in which case they would have already been together (romantically) for almost eleven years at this point. Then it makes a weird sort of sense.

The comic little squabble that follows also makes perfect sense in this context. This couple are in no mood to compromise on this matter; Aziraphale will not be told that he’s a shit magician because he has too much fun doing it (this despite the fact that we know he and Crowley agreed he shouldn’t do magic anymore, but unlike in 1941, there’s no risk of anybody getting hurt if he drops a coin on the floor) and Crowley will not concede that he’s being a killjoy (which goes quite against his character). The spat concludes with Crowley delivering a passive-aggressive threat to Aziraphale, which you can see he instantly reconsiders with a head tilt - probably wise considering how unimpressed the angel is with it.

Side note: the watch that Crowley is wearing (seen at Warlock’s birthday party) appears to be a Devon Tread 1 A, coming in at a cool 18.5K (dollars). The book does make mention of his watch being fucking fashionably expensive but it was custom made for him, with an extra time zone for “Another Place” where the time is always “Too Late”.

Another side note: how many dens did you make as a child? A fair few I’d bet if you were anything like me. Did they ever look as cool as the one that The Them has? Me neither. I mean, just look at all those guns and skeletons used for decoration:

Once we’re back at the book shop, I find it interesting that Aziraphale is intending to imbibe (we don’t actually see him drink any of it) whatever spirit he’s given to Crowley. I’ve no doubt it’s good quality, it’s just unusual to see him drinking hard liquor – perhaps this is simply due to the seriousness of the situation he finds himself in. Their conversation about lying in memos to head office also suggests that Crowley might not be the only one lying to his bosses:

CROWLEY: Everyone stretches the truth a bit in memos to head office, you know that.

Is it me, or is there a sense of “I told you so” to Aziraphale’s lack of sympathy towards Crowley’s despair? Some might say it’s reminiscent of the way a stereotypical nagging wife speaks to their long-suffering husband when he’s done something wrong…

In amongst the dark threat of impending Armageddon, we’re still treated to a little comedy (and perhaps another Clue as to the current status of the relationship between the angel and demon). Crowley’s snappy, and ill-considered, outburst in response to Aziraphale’s almost apologetic confession that he’s wearing a new cologne is well worth a word or two. Let’s say for a second that this pair are not romantically involved at this point in time – is it not a bit strange to think that the person you’re with knows you so well that they would detect that you’re wearing a different perfume than usual? I would think you’d have to be spending a LOT of time in VERY close proximity to that person for that piece of information to be anywhere near their radar. And what’s with the angel’s apologetic tone? Why would you feel the need to be sorry about trying out a new cologne? Aziraphale doesn’t look particularly shocked when Crowley announces that he knows what he smells like, and Crowley’s tone and facial expression suggests he thinks this piece of knowledge is a pretty obvious one.

Here’s my last observation for this episode. Check out just how earnest Crowley is in this delivery:

Despite Aziraphale’s response that he thinks he obviously would, I don’t really feel like he believes this stance, and he’d do anything not to believe that what Crowley is saying is true.

And so concludes the first episode! If you’ve made it this far through my write-up(s) so far, I commend and thank you. I’ll start work on the next episode over the next few days, but in the meantime I’ll also write a master post that I’ll add to as I go along. As always, comments, questions, discussions and any other engagements are welcome.

[strangerstilinski]

SELENOPHILES OF BEACON HILLS | Teen Wolf Rewrite

Stiles Stilinksi/Original Female Character

chapter one - - chapter two

summary; after an already traumatic evening involving the unfortunate discovery of a gruesome scene, amber is convinced to hike through the woods with her two best friends in search of the other half of a dead body. but it's not as if she could ever say no.. not when stiles looked at her like that.

word count; 11,952

notes; this whole thing was inspired by the throwaway line "two joggers found a body in the woods-" this is the first half of s1e1. i've already completed season one in its entirety but i will be posting them slowly on here. it's 13 chapters in all.

masterlist

c h a p t e r o n e

wolf moon pt.1

All of the craziness started on a Sunday.

The last day of winter break had been stressful enough to start, with the anxiety of having to start up classes again at the front of Amber’s mind all morning. It would be the final semester of her sophomore year. Then, the next year would be crammed with SATs and ACTs and applying to colleges. She knew they would all be one step closer to having to decide what to do with the rest of their lives.

She found it all very daunting.

Since waking up that morning, the girl had restlessly alternated between hiding away in the privacy of her bedroom and lounging in the living room downstairs, unable to find a comfortable place to settle. At some point, she'd managed to chew her nails to the point of bleeding. Pulling her hair back into a braid had become a necessity when she noticed herself picking obsessively at her split ends. Her laptop sat open on the coffee table along with a small stack of paperbacks, from where she had started and then immediately abandoned two different television shows and three books.

After dinner, her irritating inability to sit still had finally pushed her older brother, Jason, to his final breaking point. He'd demanded she go change into exercise clothes and then he dragged her from the house in an effort to release some of her pent up restless energy.

Jason forced her out for a jog through the preserve, and only a measly ten minutes into their run she found herself already with sweat trickling down her temple. She was breathing heavily, slowly falling behind, while her brother continued to run ahead of her with ease.

Amber watched as her brother's lead slowly increased in length, the gap between them growing larger and larger, the sound of his footfalls crunching over leaves and twigs growing more and more faint as she trailed behind. Eventually, upon rounding a long bend in the hiking trail, she realized that she could no longer see him in the distance at all.

With a pause to catch her breath, she bent over at the waist to brace her hands on her knees in an attempt to pull more air into her aching lungs.

Over a mile deep in the preserve, the only sounds that met her ears were that of the breeze whistling as it filtered through barren branches, the odd scuffle of fallen leaves rolling over one another, and her own wheezing breaths of exertion.

When she lifted her head to take stock of where she'd stopped, she found that she'd reached the first fork in the trail. She returned to an upright position, chest heaving as she continued to pant labored breaths, deliberating which path her brother might have taken with hands on her hips.

With a resolved shake of her head, she chose the path to the right. Regardless of which she took, both would eventually lead back to the small trailhead where they'd parked the truck. So, she continued on.

The pace that she settled into could hardly have been considered a jog — if anything, she was moving in a walk with only the exaggerated body movements of a run, but she was tired.

She had only made it a few hundred feet from where the trail split off before she spotted something that piqued her curiosity in a pile of dry brush and leaves at the side of the trail. She slowed as she approached, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead with her shirtsleeve and breathing heavily.

Poking out from the leaves, she could just make out the peculiar shape of a cluster of pale rocks — it almost resembled toes.

A choked combination of a gag and a gasp escaped her. She covered her mouth with the sleeve of her windbreaker as she reached the pile of brush because — It was definitely toes, connected to a foot, which then connected to legs and, well, that was pretty much where it ended because there was only half of a body.

Another gag pushed its way out of her throat, eyes drawn to the clean, smooth cut that went straight through the hips of the corpse beneath the dead leaves. Something had been used to cut them through muscle and flesh and bone. She could see it was a female — the body had been left completely naked.

This had been a person. And they laid on the ground, covered in earth and dried blood, just a few feet from where she was standing. Amber could see dirt caked around the pink nail polish that covered the woman's toenails. Even through all of the blood, she could make out a tiny freckle on the bare skin of the corpse's knee.

She fought back another gag as she finally found her voice, and she screamed.

“Jason!”

Her voice came out shrill. It cracked painfully as she shouted for her brother again and again. She screamed only a handful of times before she could hear her brother yelling her own name in panic as he backtracked and found his way to her on the trail.

Jason's feet skidded in the dirt as he came to a stop in front of where his sister was still standing. Her shaking fingers still covering her mouth as she struggled to keep herself from dry-heaving. His hands went to her shoulders as he checked his sister over for any sort of visible injury. When he found none, his attention turned around them, searching for a threat. His eyes widened when he followed her gaze and caught sight of the body — what there was of one — that sat only a few feet away from them.

Amber distantly heard the call that her brother placed to the Sheriff's Station. She could hear him telling someone about the body and she heard him give directions to their location on the trail, but it was echoed, like she was underwater as she listened to him speak into his phone off to the side of her peripheral vision.

She couldn't seem to pull her eyes away from the corpse. The skin was so pale, it had almost a blueish hue. She wondered, absently, if the person had been out here in the cold before they died, or if that was just what a body looked like after so much blood loss because this person must have lost... So. Much. Blood.

The whole body was covered in in it, gluing dry leaves and dirt to their skin. They had been cut in half. Or, maybe they hadn’t been cut in half until after they’d died. Maybe, Amber thought, it had been something simple. A quick death. Something like a gunshot to the head–

God. She hoped desperately that the woman hadn’t been sliced in half while they were still alive.

It felt like only a minute or two had passed but it must have been longer because suddenly, the bright evening sunlight that had guided her along the trail during their jog was dwindling. It was growing dark and she was being ushered away from the body as officers took pictures, laying crime tape and placing little numbered tents around the scene.

Her brother stood off to the side speaking to the same deputy Amber had just finished with, recounting his own memory of the evening. The deputy nodded and took notes down on their little pad once again, just as they had when Amber had been talking.

Down at the end of the trail, it seemed as if police cars might never stop coming. There were officers making their way up with search dogs now. The dogs barked and ran around, likely on the search for the other half of the body.

She stood off to the side as her eyes flicked from where Jason was speaking to the deputy, to the location of the body, where cameras were flashing and uniformed deputies were moving back and forth in a blur.

Amber felt a hand land on her shoulder and nearly jumped out of her skin. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears as she spun around to see that it was only Sheriff Stilinski, looking at her with the same soft look of concern in his eyes that she'd seen so many times over the years.

“Amber. I didn’t realize it was you and Jason who’d come across it. When I got the call.. I was out of the house so fast I didn’t think to ask-” He sighed, “You okay, kid?”

The girl took a shaky breath, but nodded. The heavy hand Sheriff Stilinski still had resting on her shoulder felt grounding. While he could never replace her dad, he was as close as she got these days and she was grateful for his presence now.

Over the years, there had been something about the stern, protective, always unwaveringly loving energy that her best friend's father emitted. Somehow, he always managed to make her darkest days just a bit better — it was entirely possible that the ability was simply a Stilinski family trait.

“Yeah. I’m okay. Scarred for life, definitely, yeah. But, okay.” Amber said, feeling proud when the small smile she gave him was only somewhat shaky. “I actually think I might go to Scott's? I’ll call Stiles.. See if they want to watch some movies or something. Just.. Distract myself, y'know?”

Getting Stiles to sit down quietly and watch a movie could be like pulling teeth sometimes. He was constantly jamming his elbow into her waist to get her attention away from the screen, or talking over the action, or pulling out his laptop mid-scene to search the internet for inaccuracies or an actor's filmography in a way that she found endlessly endearing.

It was exactly the kind of distraction she felt like she needed right now.

The Sheriff nodded in response before pulling her in for a tight hug. His hand lingered at the back of her head for a few moments, but then he was releasing her and setting off to talk with a cluster of officers.

“I'd really feel better with you at home where I know you're okay.” Jason told her once they'd closed themselves off inside of his pickup truck.

While understood why her brother was so reluctant to let her go off on her own, Amber was entirely too stubborn for her own good, and Jason inevitably agreed to drop her at Scott's house on his way home, with her promise of getting a decent night’s sleep.

After all, it was a school night.

It was hard to believe that only a couple of hours before, she had been stressed about school of all things. Now, she was fighting off yet another wave of nausea brought on by stumbling across a dead body deep in the preserve.

Well, half of one.

As soon as the vehicle began moving, trees rushing past her window in a dark blur of motion, she was trying to get a hold of Stiles. After two attempts in which the call merely rang through to his voicemail, she tucked her phone back into the pocket of her sport jacket with a frown and a huff. She would just have to wait and see if Scott knew whether Stiles was busy tonight.

Amber had hardly made it two steps into the entryway of the McCall house when Scott came barreling down the stairs, attempting to pull on a zip-up hoodie with one hand and wielding a baseball bat in the other. She opened her mouth to question him but before she could make a sound he shushed her aggressively, pushing her behind himself without explanation as he crept out the front door and onto the porch with an abundance of caution and visible nerves.

“Scott?!” She whispered aggressively, still receiving no answer beyond a frustrated wave of his hand signaling for her to be quiet.

She followed close behind, confused and mildly alarmed as she tried to imagine whatever threat Scott thought that he might find outside. She clung onto the hood of the boy's sweatshirt with one hand as she trailed close behind. Scott held the bat, ready to strike, as the two rounded the porch at the side of the house.

The rapidly dropping temperature over the previous half an hour had the breath puffing out from their mouths in foggy clouds in the dark. Scott relaxed his hold on the bat for a brief second as he peered down over the railing, inadvertently pulling Amber forward with him.

Suddenly, something large dropped down from the roof to dangle in front of them, both teens letting out a scream of alarm. Amber instinctively yanked on Scott's sweatshirt in an attempt to pull him back from the threat, but they both quieted upon recognizing the third scream coming from the person now hanging upside-down from the trellis at the roof of the porch.

“Stiles!” She and Scott both yelled in frustrated synchronization.

“What the hell are you doing?” Scott continued immediately.

“You weren’t answering your phone!” Stiles yelled at Scott defensively. “And.. Okay, I know I wasn’t either.” He added sheepishly when he spotted Amber still hidden behind Scott. “Why do you have a bat?!” Stiles’ voice rose to a shrill level again.

As if only now remembering his weapon of choice was still clutched defensively above their heads, ready for an attack, Scott lowered the bat a small increment before speaking, “I thought you were a predator.” He explained simply.

“A pre-” Stiles spluttered, “Look, I know it’s late, but you gotta hear this. I saw my dad leave twenty minutes ago. Dispatch called. They’re bringing in every officer from the Beacon Department, and even State Police.”

Amber felt her heart drop suddenly into her stomach as if it were made up of lead.

“For what?” Scott asked, his eyebrows scrunching in curiosity.

“Two joggers found a body in the woods.” Stiles explained at the same time Amber’s voice whispered a meek, “We found a body.”

Stiles clumsily dropped down from where he had been hanging upside-down, arms flailing as he fell from the roof and onto the ground below the porch in a clumsy heap of limbs. The boy stumbled a bit before he managed to get his footing and moved to stand upright.

Scott’s head pivoted back and forth between his two best friends, his eyes wide. “A dead body?”

“No, a body of water. Yes, Dumbass. A dead body.” Stiles scoffed, climbing up onto the porch to stand in front of them. He turned to Amber with a furrow between his brows, “Who's we? You found it?” He asked with growing excitement.

“Jason and I.” She supplied quietly.

“You mean like.. Murdered?” Scott interrupted, taking a step back to stand beside Amber instead of in front of her. He seemed to be stuck on the concept of the dead body being dead.

“Nobody knows yet. Just that it was a girl, probably in her twenties.” Stiles said with wide eyes, like he found it all very exciting. Amber was beginning to feel queasy again.

“Hold on,” Scott said, “If they found the body, then what are they looking for?”

“That's the best part.” Stiles started, looking to Amber for assurance, or maybe some assistance in the reveal of the next bit of information. She only managed a deep breath after a moment, feeling truly sick as Stiles finished, “They only found half.”

“It was only half.”

Although they spoke at the same time, Amber's words had come out much quieter than Stiles, hardly a weak murmur. Hand beginning to cramp where she was still clutching tightly onto the fabric of Scott’s hood, she released it to flex her fingers a couple of times.

Stiles reached out a hand to rest on her shoulder, leaning in close, “We're going.” He announced firmly.

“Are we actually going to do this?” Scott asked, looking back and forth between them again.

“No.” Amber got out, though the heavy warmth of Stiles' hand through her windbreaker was already making her judgement fuzzy.

Stiles looked at Scott briefly before returning his attention to her, “How come you're the only one who gets to find a body, huh?” He slipped his hand down from her shoulder to grip at her elbow and cradled it softly.

“I don’t know how great you think finding a dead body was for me, but I assure you, it wasn't nearly as fun as whatever you're imagining.” Amber told Stiles.

He stayed silent for once, maintaining eye contact with her for a long minute. She tried to remain strong, she truly did. Amber broke eye contact to look at his face, her eyes flicking over each freckle and mole dotting his pale skin. Steadfastly refusing to let her eyes fall to his lips or drift back to his whiskey colored eyes, she could literally feel her resolve crumbling with every second that she looked at her best friend.

“I’m never going to be able to talk you assholes out of doing this, am I?” She asked quietly. The pit in her stomach felt as if it were expanding with the intent to swallow her whole as her eyes finally went back to his.

A stupidly sweet smile stretched across Stiles' face immediately as he realized he'd won and his hand trailed lower again, taking hold of her own and giving it a squeeze.

Her belly did a traitorous flip at the feeling of her hand in his own and she heaved a resigned sigh. She really didn’t want to have to find both halves of this body.

“We’re seriously doing this?” Scott repeated, sounding unsure.

“You're the ones always bitching that nothing ever happens in this town.” Stiles said, rifling through his backpack as they climbed out of his cramped Jeep. He triumphantly pulled out a flashlight and clicked it on, illuminating the preserve in a bright stream of light.

“Plenty has happened for me, today.” Amber reminded them, shielding her eyes until Stiles had lowered the flashlight to shine on the ground.

He put a hand at the small of Amber’s back as they ventured away from the Jeep, guiding her forward gently while he lit a path in front of them.

“And I was trying to get a good night’s sleep before practice tomorrow.” Scott said.

Stiles addressed Scott first, “Right, ‘cause sitting on the bench is such a grueling effort. And you,” He said, shining the flashlight at Amber briefly before focussing it back in front of them while they made their way through the trees, “You get to find a body, I get to find a body, right? Fair's fair.”

“I'm playing this year. In fact, I'm making first line.” Scott said, bringing the conversation back around to himself and looking annoyingly smug.

“Hey, that's the spirit! Everyone should have a dream, even a pathetically unrealistic one.” Stiles laughed, his hand drifting to grip Amber's hip momentarily before it returned to the safety of her spine.

She reached up to reprimand Stiles with a gentle thwack on the back of the head as they walked, letting her hand fall to his elbow and pulling his arm from behind her, taking ahold of his hand for support instead as they walked. He began to move faster with his long stride and Amber allowed him pull her along while she attempted to keep up on her shorter legs.

It had grown colder still, their breath continuing to puff out in tiny clouds as the three hiked through the preserve, moving as quickly as they could while watching their step over rocks and fallen branches.

“Just out of curiosity.. Which half of the body are we looking for?” Scott finally asked.

Stiles stumbled, his steps faltering as he paused beside Amber, “Huh. I didn’t think about that.”

Both boys looked to her as they continued to move, waiting for an answer.

“You know what? You’ll find out if we find it. I refuse to indulge you both any more than I already am just by being here.” She huffed, taking a step away from the two of them while maintaining her hold on Stiles' hand.

“And, uh, what if whoever killed the body is still out here?” Scott followed up, nervously looking up into the trees surrounding them.

Amber took a hasty step back toward Stiles as her stomach tied itself tighter in knots at the thought, fearfully clutching Stiles' hand tighter in her grip.

“Also something I didn't think about.” Stiles replied.

“It's comforting to know you planned this out with your usual attention to detail.” Scott panted as they dropped to nearly a crawl at a steep incline.

“I know.” Stiles grinned, carefully pulling Amber up with him as they scaled the slippery hill.

When Scott stopped to lean against a tree trunk, she paused and tugged on Stiles' arm to slow him as he tried to keep moving.

“Maybe the, uh, severe asthmatic should be the one holding the flashlight, huh?” Scott said between choppy breaths.

Amber shot a brief glare toward Stiles in the dark, rubbing her free hand on Scott's arm in a comforting gesture as he pulled out his inhaler.

They continued on, following the light Stiles shined ahead of them until he suddenly dropped to the ground, dragging Amber down beside him and covering the bright beam shining out from his flashlight. In the dark, they could see more flashlights sweeping back and forth in the distance, illuminating the mist of rain that was beginning falling around them. They could hear search dogs huffing quiet noises between barks.

“Come on.” Stiles shot to his feet and took off before either of them could stop him and he pulled Amber's arm painfully as he took off, not yet relinquishing his grip on her hand.

“Stiles!” Scott and Amber both whisper-shouted at his back.

When her hand slipped from Stiles' as they raced after him in the dark, Amber squeaked unhappily, “Wait up!” She called out iman hushed voice.

“Stiles!” Scott called after him, “Stiles!”

The two moved as fast as they could, trying to keep up with their friend, but he'd gotten ahead of them. Amber huffed when her toe caught on a tree root and she grabbed onto Scott as she righted herself. She was still gripping onto Scott's arms and getting her feet back underneath her when she heard Stiles let out a cut off scream of alarm in the distance, shortly followed by the sound of dogs barking.

He had been spotted.

“Stay right there!” An officer shouted over the sound of the dog barking.

“Shit.” Amber whispered with wide eyes as Scott dragged her along to hide behind a large tree.

“Hang on, hang on. This little delinquent belongs to me.” They heard the Sheriff’s voice announce with disappointment.

“Dad. How're you doing?” Stiles greeted weakly.

“So. Do you, uh, listen in to all of my phone calls?” Sheriff Stilinski questioned.

“No,” Stiles laughed nervously, “Not the boring ones..”

Amber thumped her forehead against Scott's shoulder. “Idiot.” She whispered fondly, shaking her head.

“Now, where're your usual partners in crime? I thought after the night she’d had, Amber would've kept you away from this.”

She felt the heat of it when Scott took a quiet, shaky breath.

“Scott? Scott's home.” Stiles stuttered, “He said he wanted to get a good night's sleep for first day back to school tomorrow, so.. Amber went home and now it's just me. In the woods.. Alone.”

“Scott!” The sheriff yelled out, causing them both to flinch from where they were huddled behind the tree, “Amber! You out there? Scott!” There was a pause during which Amber and Scott looked at one another nervously, eyes wide. “Well, young man, I'm gonna walk you back to your car and you and I are gonna have a conversation about something called invasion of privacy.”

Thunder rolled loudly over the sound of the Sheriff dragging Stiles and their only flashlight off into the distance. The mist from earlier had eased it's way into a drizzle during the encounter and Amber shivered violently as the cold rain began to seep into her clothes.

“Now what?” She asked quietly.

“We- Walk home, I guess.” Scott sighed.

They made their way back through the trees in what Amber could only hope was the right direction, arms coming up to attempt to rub warmth into her own biceps as they moved through the rain.

They both flinched and spun around in fear at the sound of an animal howling in the distance. Amber turned to Scott and they looked at one another with wide, scared eyes before they began walking again. Scott jerked and came to a stop again only a few minutes later when they heard a large bird flapping it's wings overhead in the trees, prompting Amber to walk straight into his back. She reached up to push him forward with hands on his shoulders.

“Come on.” She urged quietly through her own nerves.

Eventually, Scott slowed to a stop again and moved to take a puff from his inhaler, his breathing ragged from all of the hiking. As he brought the inhaler to his mouth, Amber heard the sound of twigs breaking, the sound growing louder at it rushed toward them.

Scott yelled, shoving his friend to the side before falling to the ground himself. Amber screamed as she smacked against the ground, scrambling to hide behind a tree as a stampede of deer came running through. She gasped as she watched the deer only narrowly avoid trampling Scott several times before they cleared.

“Scott,” She whispered in the dark, heart pounding in her ears, “God.. You okay?”

“I dropped my inhaler!” He answered frantically, pulling out his phone for a weak source of light as he raked his hands through the leaves underfoot.

Suddenly, he yelled out again and Amber took a step closer to her friend just in time to watch him stumble and fall down an incline, and then he was gone.

“Scott!” She ran to the place where he’d fallen but as she reached the hillside, she tripped over something large on the ground and tumbled down after him.

Twigs snapped and scratched at her skin as she rolled down the hill, scraping at her hips and back as her shirt rode up, the back of her head smacking down roughly on a large rock when she finally came to a stop at the bottom of the incline.

Scott's heavy breathing was loud in the silence that followed as he righted himself.

“Amber?” He whispered, moving through the leaves.

She moved to sit up but her vision swam and she was forced to drop her head back down to the rock beneath her with a painful thunk.

“Ow.” She moaned quietly.

A loud growling sounded close by and they were both immediately filled with a cold dread. She could hear Scott’s screams but couldn’t make herself move. She shivered both from the cold and from fear, her head throbbing painfully as her heartbeat picked up.

“Scott?” She called out after a moment, voice quiet.

His screaming had stopped and she heard the sound of twigs breaking and footfalls running into the distance until she could no longer hear them at all.

“Scott?” She tried once more, finding the strength to lift her head to look around her.

The forest remained silent.

She rolled onto her front, moving her arms underneath herself and pushing up onto her knees shakily, black spots danced in the corners of her vision but the preserve was so dark that it was difficult to tell if it was due to the throbbing in her head or lack of light.

Crawling toward a large tree, Amber moved to lean back against the trunk. She shakily lifted a hand to the back of her head and felt the warm wetness in the hair at her crown. She withdrew her hand and her fingers came back stained dark.

“Fuck.” She whispered into the trees, unsure what to do now.

She must’ve fallen asleep for a few minutes because suddenly, she found herself waking.

She groaned quietly when she felt the sharp pain in the back of her head, the wound immensely sore where she had it pressed against the trunk of the tree behind her. She pried her eyes open and saw a head of dark hair on the person who was knelt down in front of her.

She tried to lift her head to lessen the pressure on her injury, but her head felt heavy so soon after waking, and it lolled to the side instead. The movement stopped when a hand moved to catch her gently by cupping the side of her face. Her vision swam for a slow second afterward while the hand held her head steady.

She could hear a voice but it sounded muffled and distant, like she had cotton stuck in her ears.

“Scott?” Amber rasped softly.

The first thing she’d felt had been the ache in her head, but as she came to, she began to feel other things. She could feel the way her damp clothes clung to her skin as she shivered. Her whole body felt sore from rolling down the hill but nothing seemed to hurt enough to be broken.

The hand on the left side of her face moved to cup her chin and pressed their thumb into her jaw, shaking her head softly. She let out a quiet, unhappy noise when the movement made her vision swim again.

“Spinny.” She complained.

Amber lifted a hand up to reach for the person's face. When her cold fingertips landed on their cheek she could feel a light stubble covering the person’s sharp jawline.

“Not Scott,” She deduced to herself miserably. She widened her eyes at the mystery person comically for a moment in an attempt to clear her vision, “Definitely not Stiles.”

She let her hand drop to the person’s shoulder to steady herself and pulled her torso up to lean away from the rough bark of the tree.

“Your. Name.” The voice repeated slowly, voice sounding clearer to her ears now that the fuzz in her brain was clearing. The hand on her face squeezed softly and pressed warm fingers into her cheek with each word.

“Amber.” She told them.

Her vision was clearer now. As the rain passed, so had the clouds, and in the glow from the moonlight that now shined through the bare trees above them, she could see the person in front of her with minimal double vision — The incredibly handsome person in front of her.

“Your eyes are very pretty.” She whispered before she could stop herself, looking into the palest eyes she’d ever seen. She wondered absently whether they were blue or green in the daylight.

The guy snorted softly in amusement, shaking his head before regaining a stoic expression, “Turn your head so I can check what we’re dealing with.”

His voice was deep and gruff and incredibly soothing. He continued to gently cup her head in one hand as he examined the bloody patch at the back of her skull, his hands the same rough yet soft combination as his voice.

“What seems to be the damage, Mister Doctor, Sir?” She asked after a moment, flinching when he prodded gently at the swollen area.

“Doesn’t look like you need stitches.” He told her, leaning back to give her some space and wiping his hands on his dark jeans, “Don’t think you hit it hard enough for brain injury either, but it’ll probably hurt for a couple days.”

“Yay for no lasting brain damage.” Amber cheered quietly as she shivered, missing the warmth of his hand against her cheek.

“You should get home. Get some rest.” The guy reached his hands out to her again, gripping one of her own and helping her to her feet with a firm grip at her elbow, “You shouldn’t even be out here in the first place. It’s private property, y’know. This isn’t a part of the preserve.”

They started to move through the woods slowly. Amber’s legs felt shaky and her butt was numb from sitting on the cold ground for so long, but her mystery doctor had moved one of his arms around her waist, supporting a majority of her weight as he maneuvered her feet smoothly over fallen branches and tree roots.

“It’s dark and my flashlight abandoned me,” She defended, “Then I tripped. Then I was abandoned again. Jesus, I hope Scott made it home okay.”

She looked to her doctor-helper with wide eyes, suddenly remembering the blood chilling sound of Scott’s scream before he had run away from her.

“There’s no one else in the preserve, now.” He assured her, “It’s just the two of us. So, whoever he is, I’m sure he made it home, just like you should be doing.”

“Yes, sir.” She mumbled reluctantly with her eyes still glued to his face, trusting that if she tripped he wouldn’t let her fall. She swore she saw his lips twitch into a brief but genuine smile before he shook his head, continuing their hike out of the forest.

“Do you have someone you can call for a ride?” He asked, “I didn’t drive here.”

Amber found herself wondering how he’d gotten out to the preserve on the edge of town if he hadn’t driven, but didn’t voice her thoughts.

“I, uh, yeah. I can try.” She decided. She pulled out her phone to see that less than an hour had passed since their run in with the Sheriff’s Deputies. She couldn’t have been unconscious for more than twenty minutes.

Amber sent a quick text to Scott to check he’d truly made it home, but paused before calling anyone. There was no way she was calling her brother to pick her up at nearly midnight, so she pulled up the number she’d called twice earlier in the evening and hoped for an answer this time.

The man beside her guided her over a cluster of rocks with a hand at her elbow as she brought her phone up to her ear and listened to the dull ringing.

“Amber! You good? You and Scott make it home okay?” Stiles greeted, picking up after only the second ring.

“Not exactly.” She muttered, her phone beeping as a text came through and she read the message from Scott.

Just got home. In bed. Need to talk to u and Stiles before school tomorrow.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she read and reread the message. She was glad Scott was safe at home but was he not at all worried about her?

“What do you mean? You guys okay?” Stiles asked nervously through the phone.

Amber smiled at the stranger beside her in silent thanks as he kept her from tripping over another rock.

“Scott’s gone. I guess he’s home now but I’m still in the preserve. I think I’m almost out to the road-” She said with question in her voice. The man next to her nodded silently and she continued, “Yeah, almost out to the road, but-”

“I’m on my way-” Stiles said quickly. She could hear movement on the other end of the line before his keys jingling loudly and the telltale bang of his front door closing.

“Your dad still working?”

“Yeah, I doubt he’ll be home ‘til morning.” He told her as the door to the Jeep slammed and she heard the loud rumble of the car coming to life, “Just stay with me and I’ll find you when you get out to the road, alright? Let me know when you’re out.”

“I can actually see it now.” She said, as the trees began to clear and she caught sight of the pavement ahead of her.

“Okay, okay. I’ll be right there, alright?” His voice was laced with worry and she sighed softly into the phone.

“Stiles, I’m fine, okay? Don’t speed to get to me.”

She heard him huff in response, which meant he was probably already going too fast as he drove the winding roads that led out to the preserve.

The hand on her arm had released her when they got closer to the main road and Amber looked to thank the man next to her but he was gone. She spun in a slow circle as her eyebrows furrowed, thinking that surely he couldn’t have gone far, but he’d vanished.

She looked back to the street after a few minutes and could see headlights shining bright in the distance, reflecting off the telephone wires and the wet pavement.

“Stiles, I see a car coming.”

“Okay, okay, I’m slowing down.”

The car approaching did, indeed slow down until there was a blue Jeep stopped in the road in front of her. Stiles threw the door open and ran from the car as she crossed she street and he didn’t waste a second before he was throwing his arms around her shoulders.

“You okay? I can’t believe Scott left you by yourself.”

His voice was muffled in her hair as he pressed his face into the top of her head. One of his hands trailed up from her shoulders to cup the back of her head and she flinched, whining in pain when he pressed against where she’d hit her head earlier.

“What happened?” He asked immediately, pulling back to look at her. When he caught sight of the red stain on his hand in the glow of the headlights, his eyes went wide, spinning her around quickly to look at the spot he’d touched. “Jesus, Am, what happened?”

“I’m fine, honestly. I’m pretty sure it’s barely bleeding anymore. I tripped and hit my head, but I’m okay. Could use an aspirin or ten, though.”

Stiles spun her back around and looked at her like he didn’t quite believe her, but guided her to the passenger side of the vehicle silently. She climbed inside and he was leaning in to buckle her up before she could begin to do it herself.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” He asked softly, letting his hand linger on her thigh after getting the buckle clicked into place.

“I’m fine,” She promised quietly, flushing under his gentle attention, “Can we just go to your house? If I get caught sneaking in at this point, Jason’s gonna kill me. I’m better off sleeping somewhere else.”

“Yeah, ’course.” He pulled back and gently closed the door before rounding the vehicle and climbing behind the wheel. Turning them around and heading home.

When they got to the Stilinski house, they went straight to Stiles’ room and he closed the door out of habit despite them being the only ones home.

“Let me see your head again so I can get a better look.” Stiles demanded as he approached her.

In the bright light of his bedroom, Amber could now see how dirty she was, her athletic leggings covered in mud streaks and her hands much the same. She could only imagine how filthy her face was. And her hair hair where it was pulled back in a now messy braid.

His hands were gentle as he moved her hair to look at the bump on the back of her head, but she still flinched when he poked at it delicately.

“Sorry.” He apologized from behind her, stroking a hand down the side of her hair.

“It’s fine.” She promised again, “I should shower though. Seriously.”

“Yeah, of course.” He said easily, squeezing her arm before traipsing back into the hallway and to the linen closet, pulling out a clean towel and holding it out to her.

She thanked him and made her way to the bathroom before closing the door behind her. She stripped out of her damp, dirty clothes, undoing the braid in her hair and combing her fingers through it softly. She turned the water on and let it heat up before climbing under the spray. She watched dirt and small bits of leaf trailed down onto the shower floor as she rinsed her hair.

She used the men’s shower products that littered the shower, scrubbing down with the masculine smelling body wash twice. She winced when it stung the tiny scrapes on her hips, and proceeded to gently shampoo around the bump at the back of her head.

When she finished, Amber climbed out and dried the excess water from her hair roughly before drying her body. She secured the towel she’d been given around her tight once she was no longer dripping.

She knocked softly on Stiles’ bedroom door as she made her way back over, not wanting to interrupt him if he was getting changed. The door swung open quickly and Amber jumped in surprise at the sight of Stiles standing in front of her in his doorway, already changed into pajama pants and a tshirt.

He gaped silently as his eyes trailed to where her towel was hooked loosely at the top of her breasts. A small bead of water dripped from the nape of her neck in a slow trail past her collarbones and into her cleavage before disappearing beneath the towel and he couldn’t help but swallow loudly, blinking himself out of his stupor and returning his eyes to the safety of his friend’s face.

“Am I allowed in, or have I been exiled to the hallway?” She laughed when he continued to block the doorway after a few moments.

“Right! Sorry!” He jumped back, opening the door wider and allowing her entrance into the room.

She continued to smile as she stepped past him, a blush rising to her cheeks as she thought about the look on his face as his eyes had trailed down to her chest.

“Can I borrow something to sleep in?” She asked, hand coming up to fiddle with where the towel was secured around her.

“Sure, yeah, what do you want?” He rushed to his dresser and opened a drawer already rifling through it.

“Any tshirt would be good.” She said, biting her lip as she thought about the underwear she’d left in the bathroom. She’d been wearing them on her run earlier and grimaced at the thought of putting them back on.

Stiles triumphantly produced a clean shirt and threw it toward the bed before looking at her, his eyes stuck on where she had her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

“Would- Would it be weird if I asked for boxers or something?” She asked awkwardly.

“N-No, no I can-“ He slammed the drawer he’d procured the tshirt from and opened another, moving things around aggressively in search of a pair of underwear for her. It took longer than it had for the shirt, but after a minute his hand re-emerged from the drawer with a pair of checkered boxers in his hands and a flush on his cheeks. “Here.”

Amber accepted the shorts, her hand brushing his softly in the exchange and she gulped.

It was hardly the first time she’d slept at one of the boy’s houses, definitely not the first time she’d borrowed a shirt, but there was something significantly more intimate about doing so after a shower — about doing it and not having an article of her own clothing to separate Stiles’ clothes from her naked body.

She toyed with the underwear in her hands, “Stiles?”

“Yeah?”

“I uh, I can’t get changed if you’re standing right in front of me.”

This seemed to startle him into action and he blushed, coughing into the back of his hand awkwardly in an attempt to hide it.

“Right, I’ll go- I’ll get you some Aspirin!” He said before moving around her and closing the door behind him.

She shook her head and took a deep breath, dropping her towel and drying herself one final time before pulling on the boxers, rolling them twice at the waist to get the fit better before she paused, distracted. Curling her fingers into the material at her hips, she had a thought.

Her mind was racing, imagining Stiles’ own naked body beneath the shorts that were against her bare skin, now. The thought sent a flush creeping up her neck and a tingling heat to her gut.

She swallowed loudly in the quiet room.

Stepping toward the bed, she picked up the basic shirt Stiles had gotten out for her. She moved her arms through the holes and was using her hands to stretch it over her wet hair in an attempt to avoid the sore spot at the back of her head when she heard the door open behind her. She quickly pulled the shirt down over her back and turned to face Stiles where he was standing frozen in the doorway with a glass of water in one hand and two Aspirin cupped in the other.

“I- Sorry,” He said quickly, “I should’ve knocked? I don’t know why I didn’t knock.”

“No worries, Sti.” She told him softly as she pulled her damp hair out from beneath the collar of the shirt. She moved to take the painkillers and the water from him with a smile before sipping from the glass and swallowing the pills.

“I also got out a new toothbrush. Left it by the sink. Figured you’d need one.” Stiles told her as he watched her swallow down the tablets.

“God, yeah. Brushing your teeth with your finger is just- Not the same.” She shuddered at the thought, “I’ll be right back, then.”

Grabbing her towel from the floor, she went back across the hallway into the bathroom. The mirror was still clouded with condensation from her shower and she wiped it clear with the damp towel before putting it in the hamper tucked behind the door.

She brushed her teeth quickly, collecting her dirty heap of clothes from the bathroom floor before she made her way back into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

Stiles was already standing at the bed, pulling down the blankets and settling into the open side, already armed with the knowledge from previous sleepovers that she preferred to be on the side closest to the wall.

She moved to crawl across his legs to the other side of the bed and climbed underneath the covers, settling down onto her side facing the wall, not wanting to put pressure on the back of her head while she slept. Stiles quietly settled down next to her after switching off the lamp beside the bed.

“You smell good.” He whispered to her in the dark after a moment.

“I smell like you.” She laughed, “I used your shampoo and your body wash.”

“I know.” He said quietly.

She waited a full minute for him to continue, but he said nothing else. She turned to smile into the pillow before closing her eyes and drifting to sleep.

Too soon, morning came and they woke to the sound of Stiles’ alarm clock trilling loudly. Amber cracked her eyes open to find herself on her back, head tilted toward where best friend slept beside her.

During the night, one of his arms had been thrown over her chest, his forearm rose and fell in time with each of her breaths where it was laying across her breasts. He was sprawled out on his stomach, pillow tucked over his head, still sleeping soundly with his pillow muffling the obnoxious beeping.

“Stiles.” She groaned loudly, nudging her friend with her leg beneath the duvet, “Turn it off.”

He woke with a snort, moving to push himself upright with one arm against the mattress and the other where it was still pressed to her chest. He reached out a hand and clicked the alarm off.

“Ow,” She gasped, jerking away when his elbow put the brunt of his weight on her left breast, “Boobs, Stiles. Jesus.”

Stiles’ head snapped around to look at her as he pulled his arm away from where it had been digging into her. His eyes were wide, flicking down to her tshirt covered chest quickly before they traveled up to her sleepy face.

“Sorry.”

She sighed in response, reaching a hand up to sleepily cup the injury with a sleepy frown. It didn’t hurt anymore, the pain gone as quickly as it had come, but she covered the breast protectively for a moment anyway out of principle.

“Uh.. How’s your head?” He asked after pulling his eyes away from where her small hand was touching herself through the shirt. His shirt.

“Better than last night. Probably should take something for it before we head out, though.”

When Stiles crawled out of bed, Amber rolled onto her stomach and smothered herself in the pillow he’d been using, taking a deep breath of the scent under the guise of still being tired. She stayed in bed as Stiles went to shower and get dressed, waiting until he returned before she got up to use the bathroom and brush her teeth.

They stopped at Amber’s house before heading to the school so she could change out of her borrowed sleep clothes and get her backpack.

“Fifteen minutes!” Stiles yelled out the window of the Jeep in warning as she ran inside.

“Time me!” She dared over her shoulder.

She ran upstairs to her bedroom, stripping out of Stiles’ clothes and quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweater within two minutes of rushing through the front door.

Using her hair brush, she removed the tangles from the ends of her long, ashy waves, combing through the top with her fingers until her flyaways settled.

Still rushing, she applied deodorant beneath her sweater with one hand and tossed her books into her bag with the other before zipping it shut and throwing it over her shoulder.

The girl ran down the hall to the bathroom and spritzed herself with the perfume on the vanity, fumbling to collect a tube of mascara and her eyelash curler in her hands before jogging back downstairs.

As she passed through the kitchen, she grabbed two apples from the basket hanging on the wall without slowing and continued on until she was out the front door and back at the vehicle where Stiles was waiting.

“Seven minutes.” Stiles told her with an impressed grin as she climbed back into the passenger side of the Jeep. “I think that’s actually a new record.”

She smiled, shoving one of the apples toward his face. She grinned harder when he automatically opened his mouth wide and sunk his teeth into it to take it from her while he backed out of the driveway.

Pulling down the sun visor, she curled her eyelashes and applied mascara quickly before shoving the items into her backpack where it sat on the floor between her feet.

“Dunno how you can do that in a moving car.” Stiles said through a mouthful of fruit, earning a laugh from her in response.

As she grabbed her own apple from where she’d put it for safekeeping between her legs, she looked over to where Stiles was steering the car with his left hand and shifting gears with his right between bites of the fruit. She ate her breakfast as they drove, her eyes bouncing between her friend’s long fingers where they wrapped around the gear shift and his mouth as he munched on his apple, too distracted to notice her ogling.

Stiles was finishing the last bite as he turned into the parking lot at the school, pulling the car into a spot and shutting off the Jeep before he turned to face the girl beside him. “Scott’s got something crazy to show us before class.”

“What?” She asked in confusion, climbing out of the Jeep and pulling her bag over her shoulders as she rounded the car to meet him, “He just told me he wanted to talk. What the hell’s he got to show us?”

Stiles rested a hand at the base of her neck, above her backpack, and guided her as they approached the school.

“Got bit by an animal last night, I guess.” He told her, “Says it’s pretty nasty.”

“Shit.” She said quietly, eyes scanning the bike rack as they passed to see if Scott was there yet, but not seeing his bicycle.

“Deserves it.” Stiles muttered, his hand gliding from her neck over to her opposite shoulder as he wrapped his arm loosely around her, “For leaving you alone in the woods. Hope he has to get a rabies shot and everything.”

“Stiles.” She scolded, “If he got bit by something, I’m pretty sure it happened before he left me.” She said softly, reaching her hand up to pat his where it was curled around her shoulder, “I heard him yell and then he was gone. He was probably in shock.”

“Yeah, well.” Stiles muttered as they came to a stop outside the front of the building to wait for Scott’s arrival, “I stand by what I said.”

She shook her head at him, appreciating the protectiveness, but more concerned about their other friend at the moment.

Only a few minutes passed before Stiles perked up and was releasing her shoulder as Scott came to stand in front of them.

“Okay. Let’s see this thing.” Stiles said excitedly, bouncing on his toes.

They both watched with rapt attention and leaned in close as Scott tugged up his shirt to reveal a large piece of bloody gauze on his side. The size of the bite was significantly bigger than either of them had been expecting. Amber gasped at the sight but Stiles looked absolutely thrilled.

“Ooh!” He said excitedly, reaching out to touch it before getting his hand slapped away by Amber, the girl pulling his hand back and keeping it trapped in her own.

“Yeah. Woah.” Scott said blankly, pulling his shirt back down, “It was too dark to see much, but I’m pretty sure it was a wolf.”

“A wolf bit you?” Stiles questioned incredulously as they slowly walked down the path to the school building.

“Uh-Huh.”

“No,” Stiles said immediately, “Not a chance.”

“I heard a wolf howling.” Scott looked past Stiles’ body to make eye contact with Amber, “Did you hear it?”

“I mean, I don’t know that it was a wolf,” She said slowly, shrugging and shaking her head, “Sorry, Scott.”

“No,” Stiles repeated, looking at Scott, “You didn’t.”

“What do you mean, ‘No I didn’t’? How do you know what I heard?”

“Because California doesn’t have wolves, okay? Not in like sixty years.” Stiles explained, shaking his head. He pulled Amber and himself to a stop as they turned to face Scott at the staircase in front of the school.

“Really?” Both Scott and Amber asked at the same time.

“Yes, Really.” Stiles told them, his eyes bouncing between his two friends. He squeezed Amber’s hand where they were still connected, “There are no wolves in California.”

Amber took in the information and reached down out of habit to check the time on her cell phone, only to find it missing. The pocket of her jeans decidedly empty.

“Stiles, is the Jeep unlocked? I think I left my phone.”

The boy reached his hands deep into the pocket of his jeans and produced his collection of keys, a tiny green bottle opener bright in the jumble of metal. Amber plucked them from his outstretched hand and rushed off without a word to retrieve her phone, only hearing the beginning of what Scott said next.

“Alright, well, if you don’t believe me about the wolf-“

Unlocking the passenger door, she quickly reached in to snatch the device from where it must have slipped out of her pocket and into the seat on the ride to school.

As she made her way back to the building, she fell into step with the beautiful strawberry blonde beside her as she made her way back toward the building, “Hey, Lyds.” Amber smiled, “How was break?”

“Oh the usual," Lydia narrowed her eyes. “We should’ve hung out, though.”

“Soon.” Amber promised her friend as they approached where Scott and Stiles were still in conversation at the bottom of the stairs, the latter’s voice gaining in volume the closer they got.

“-seriously gonna be the best thing that’s happened to this town since.. Since the birth of Amber Callisto.” He finished, catching sight of their friend and grinning at her cutely, “Hey, Amber, you look- Like you’re gonna walk right past me with Lydia.”

The girls passed by, but while Lydia’s eyes remained focused on the path in front of her, Amber shot her best friends a sweet smile over her shoulder, Stiles’ car keys still gripped in her hand.

“You’re whipped, dude.” She thought she heard Scott mutter before hearing what was definitely the sound of someone being hit followed by Scott’s quiet whine of pain.

Amber couldn’t keep the smile off her face at her friend’s antics, shaking her head as she continued to her locker to collect her things for first period. She turned her head when Stiles passed her locker to get down the hall to his own, her eyes glued to the back of his buzzed head as she pulled out her notebook.

She jumped when Scott stepped into her field of vision and blocked her sight of Stiles.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you alone real quick.” He said, his hands pulling at the straps of his backpack nervously as he avoided her eyes.

“Sure, what’s up?” Amber clamped her notebook between her legs as she reached into her bag to pull out her chemistry textbook to stuff it into her locker where it could stay until third period.

“I just, I wanted to apologize. For last night. I-I don’t really remember getting home, or cleaning up the blood, or even texting you before I fell asleep. It-it’s all kind of a blur.”

“Scott, it’s okay,” She promised, turning her body to face him as she freed up her hands. She reached up to loosely tangle her fingers in the long hair at the side of his head, “You were in shock, okay? I’m not mad at you.”

“Right, I just, I needed to make sure you knew, y’know, that I’d never leave you behind.”

Amber’s grip on his hair tightened and she pressed up into her toes to lean her forehead against his. “I know.” She told him with a smile, knocking their heads together softly before shoving his head away and pulling back to gather her books for English into her arms.

She made her way to the English classroom and slid into her seat, smiling at Stiles where he was sitting at the desk behind her. She pulled out a pencil and tapped it quietly on her desk top as her eyes skimmed over the words printed on the paper in front of her until class started.

Students trickled in slowly, Scott going to his own seat beside Amber. When only a few empty desks remained, Mr. Anderson stood from his chair and moved to begin writing on the blackboard behind his desk.

“As you all know, there indeed, was a body found in the woods last night.” The teacher started, “And I am sure your eager little minds are coming up with various macabre scenarios as to what happened. But I am here to tell you, that the police have a suspect in custody-”

Amber whirled around to face Stiles, Scott doing the same, but the former shook his head. The Sheriff hadn’t even returned home by the time they’d left for school that morning, so there was no way for him to have obtained the information.

“-which means you can give your undivided attention to the syllabus which is on your desk outlining the semester.”

Amber turned to face forward again and slouched in her seat as she looked through the paper Mr. Anderson had left on their desks, reading through the syllabus and jotting down notes in the margins as she went. Her attention was torn away only for a moment to lean her head back and see Stiles with a pen in his teeth, using a yellow highlighter on his own paper. She grinned at him from her upside-down position before returning to her notes.

“Class,” A voice cut through the silence in the classroom, the students all looked to see their Vice Principal standing at the front of the room with a beautiful brunette. “This is our new student, Allison Argent. Please do your best to make her feel welcome.”

The girl, Allison, was nervously fiddling with the end of the thin scarf she had wrapped around her neck. She smiled, looking at the ground and making her way to the back of the room to sit in the seat behind Scott.

Amber watched as Scott turned to face Allison, pen between his fingers in offering. Both girls’ faces clouded in confusion before Allison smiled softly and took the pen from Scott’s outstretched hand.

“Thanks.”

Amber watched in awe at the way Scott continued staring at the new girl for just a moment too long before turning back to face the front of the room with a grin on his face.

“Are you staying to watch tryouts today?” Stiles asked Amber as he came to a stop where she was standing at Scott’s locker later that day after classes ended.

“Yeah, of course.” She told him with a grin, “Gotta watch my boys make first line, don’t I?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, engulfing her face in the palm of his large hand and playfully pushing her head away as she cackled.

“Can someone tell me how ‘new girl’ is here all of five minutes, and she’s already hanging with Lydia’s clique?” A girl from their English class asked as she came to stand behind Stiles.

“Lydia’s really not so bad. She’s a completely different person when you get to know her.” Amber defended.

Stiles ignored his friend and turned to the girl, “Because she’s hot.” He stated, “Beautiful people heard together.” He flicked Amber on the nose after his statement and she furrowed her brows. She rubbed at her nose before leaving them beside Scott’s locker and making her way across the hall where Allison, Jackson, and Lydia were standing.

“Um, I can’t. It’s family night this Friday.” Allison was saying as Amber reached the group, “Thanks for asking.”

“You sure?” Jackson pushed, “Everyone’s going after the scrimmage.”

“You mean like football?” Allison asked innocently, eyes drifting to Amber and smiling.

Amber shook her head at the girl, about to answer when Jackson’s voice cut in again.

“Football’s a joke in Beacon.” He laughed, “The sport here’s lacrosse. We’ve won the state championship for the past three years.”

“Because of a certain captain.” Lydia added, smiling at her boyfriend.

“Takes a whole team to win!” Amber said sweetly, her thoughts drifting to Scott and Stiles warming the bench for the entire season the year before.

Jackson rolled his eyes at her before returning his attention to the new girl, “Well, we have practice in a few minutes. That is, if you don’t have anywhere else-“

“Well I was going to-“

“Perfect!” Lydia interrupted what was likely to be an excuse from Allison, “You're coming.” Lydia and Jackson wandered off down the hallway, leaving Allison stunned in their wake.

“It’s actually kind of fun to watch.” Amber smiled, “I’m going too. You, Lydia, and me can all sit together, if you want. But, if you really don’t want to stay, you don’t have to. Lydia honestly won’t be mad. She doesn’t realize the force behind her own words sometimes.”

“No, I-I’ll stay and watch.” Allison decided.

The two girls caught up with Lydia on their way to the lacrosse field and the three of them settled down on a set of bleachers on the side of the pitch.

Amber smiled and waved when Scott turned to look at where they were sitting, but he paid no attention to his best friend, his eyes glued to the darker-haired brunette beside her. Scott’s gaze was torn away by Coach Finstock throwing a lacrosse stick with a larger net into the boy’s hands along with a new helmet.

“McCall! You’re in goal.” Coach told him.

“I’ve never played.” Amber heard Scott defend, clutching the new stick in his hands.

“I know,” Coach said, “Scoring some shots will give the boys a confidence boost. It’s a first day back thing. Get ‘em energized! Fired up!”

Amber’s shoulders slumped slightly. She knew that Scott had worked his ass off over the last year to try and improve his skills, but he’d never practiced in goal. She was unsure how her friend could attempt to impress the coach if he was being thrown into a new position just to make the rest of the team feel better about themselves.

“What about me?” Scott asked.

“Try not to take any in the face.” Coach supplied, reaching a hand up to slap Scott’s cheek softly before turning to the rest of the players around the field, “Let’s go! Come on!”

Amber rubbed her hands together in an attempt to keep them warm in the cold, winter air of the afternoon. She watched Stiles settle onto the bench, putting his helmet on the ground between his feet. He craned his neck to look for her on the crowded bleachers and grinned when he found her.

Shooting him a thumbs up and a smile, she waved before he turned his attention back to the field. Amber watched Scott make his way into the goal, helmet on his head and the goalie stick clutched in his hands.

“Who’s that?” Allison asked, looking at where Scott was waiting.

“Him?” Lydia asked, “I’m not sure who he is. Why?”

Amber rolled her eyes at her friend, about to cut in when Allison spoke again, sounding self-conscious.

“He’s, just- He’s in our English class.”

Allison turned her attention to Amber in question and Amber smiled at the girl’s lack of subtlety before the whistle blew loudly, interrupting them.

Their attention went to the field and Amber watched Scott in confusion as he clutched at his ears over the thick plastic that covered them. He looked like he was in pain and Amber rose slightly from her seat, debating going over to check on her friend.

Before she could move, another player walked toward the goal, stopping ten yards away and lobbing the ball as hard as he could at her friend. Amber flinched when Scott immediately took the ball to the head. It thunked loudly against the plastic of his helmet before he fell to the ground in the goal. Players on the field laughed at his pain and Amber slumped back to a seated position with a frown, seeing Stiles make a similar movement where he sat on the bench in front of them.

“Hey, way to catch with your face, McCall!” Someone on the field yelled.

Scott began to pull himself up, getting ready for the next player.

“Scott McCall.” Amber finally recovered enough to tell Allison, leaning close to give a small amount of privacy from Lydia. “He’s one of my best friends. Very much single.. Y’know, if you’re interested.”

Allison blushed and smiled, but refused to look at the face of the girl sitting next to her.

Another player ran up on the goal, throwing the ball to the left corner and straight into the net of Scott’s stick.

“Yes!” Amber squeaked in excitement.

Scott looked at the ball he was holding for a moment as if surprised he’d caught it at all.

“Yeah!” Stiles called out after a few seconds had passed, turning to look at Amber behind him for a moment and also wearing a look of pleased surprise on his face.

The third player in line rushed forward, shooting the ball low at Scott’s feet, but the ball was again, miraculously stopped from reaching the goal by Scott’s stick.

Stiles and Amber both yelped in surprise, the latter’s hands going above her head as she squealed excitedly.

Scott proceeded to catch every ball that was thrown at him, letting no goals pass as his friends watched on in amazement.

“He seems like he’s pretty good.” Allison observed.

“Yeah, very good.” Lydia agreed, impressed.

“He’s been practicing like crazy.” Amber supplied, unable to wipe the proud grin off her face.

They all watched as Jackson stepped forward, moving to the front of the line and readying himself for a shot. His feet came off the ground as he launched the ball toward the goal.

Scott caught that one too.

Stiles shot out of his seat when he yelled, his arms outstretched as he spun to look at the people around them, ensuring that they’d all seen the save.

“That is our friend!” Stiles announced loudly, looking toward Amber on the bleachers and pointing to where Scott was standing on the field. She nodded at him with an incredulous laugh.

Scott was good.

[seraphcelene]

IWTV 2.7: I Could Not Prevent It

I almost hate to keep circling the drain on what this season of IwtV has done, but it's so choice and so intentional and it makes my little writer's heart sing. I love it because I love narrative. Storytelling in all of its nuanced, complex, diverse ways is a thing that fascinates me to no end. An unreliable narrator is arguably one of my favorite things because I already have an almost immediate distrust of the narrative voice. So, when an author does that shit on purpose? 😍

Oh my Fucking Gods! I have a hard on for that shit because who do you trust, what's the truth, how do we understand the story we are being told? I love the act of identifying loosely patched over edges and pulling at loose threads. There's a lie here, someone is playing all up in my face and I want the answers! And a really good writer who implements an unreliable narrator leaves tells all the fuck over the place. After all ....

"You cannot script a hurricane."

Okay, here we are in episode seven, still circling the drain of who has ownership of the story? Louis is the vampire who is being "interviewed" with the occasional footnote offered by Armand. This is in tension with the book in which Louis's is the only voice. What has changed, to make this a richer story, is how introducing Armand's perspective now turns everything on its head. It's an explicit kind of dig at the way that interviews are curated by both the interviewer and the interviewee. What are you willing to discuss? What's on the record? What's off the record? How much external research and material will be introduced? How does the story survive interpretation? What's the fucking goal here?

I'm thinking a little about the Andrew McCarthy documentary about the Brat Pack and how one New York Magazine article in 1985 turned the lives of a group of up and coming actors sideways. David Blum, who wrote the article, had an agenda. He had a point to prove and the article wasn't especially flattering. Watching the doc it becomes clear that Emilio Estevez had a different idea about what that article was supposed to be about. But such is the nature of the interview. In the end, the story shared, in all of its limited, constructed dance of questions and answers is still subject to editing, the perspective of the interviewer, and interpretation by the reader.

Here, Louis has a point to make. Exactly what that is? Who really knows. He does the first interview as a kind of love letter/suicide note to the world before he walks into the sun. This "re-do" might still be such. It also might be his attempt to understand what happened. He has questions, he knows there's holes and somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows that he can't and doesn't trust Armand. He also could want to, as I think he states in S1E1, provide an accurate accounting of what vampires are like.

Honestly, I'm on the self-discovery train.

I love how when Louis gets angry, and he has been getting angrier and angrier, he snaps hard on people. The way he shushes Daniel, "I am speaking," was delicious. Armand's discomfort was apparent and I had to wonder given this is the season's penultimate episode what we're about to find out about what happened in the past and his part in it. He's been concerned about how this was all going to go and he's only gotten MORE uncomfortable as the series has progressed.

But, and as always, what do we get to really know? Who's story is being remembered?

Louis's true and living history?

A flawed truth that Louis remembers in fragments patched over by imperfect logic? (how memory maybe really works?)

A false truth fed to him by Armand?

How about a messy patchwork of all the fucked up above.

Lestat is back. Out for blood or on the apology tour, not exactly sure. The Brat Prince himself treading the boards of the theater he helped to establish, what a sight. Lestat loves the show, he loves performance. It's definitely one of the characteristics carried over from the book. Lestat is petty and savage and a liar. He makes himself a victim, but why? What is the value of it? The trial is a farce and Lestat feels wronged and wants revenge. He wants to be as important to Louis as Claudia is. He wants to be loved in return because he is a terrible person and he knows it, but also, Lestat de Lioncourt feels incredibly deep. For all of his toxicity, Lestat was written as a character who loves to the detriment of his own best interest. And he loves Louis. I remember them from the books as acknowledging that they are that couple who are meant to be together but never CAN be together because they are too toxic to each other.

"I couldn't force him to love me. I couldn't force him to return my affections … and so … I broke him." TOXIC and PETTY AS FUCK.

Stories told by the heartbroken. What lies do you make up to explain and justify a thing that happened so that you are not culpable?

Lestat in this episode and the next is also prepping us for the shift that must, to some degree, come with Season 3. How do you turn a villain into an anti-hero into a hero? Lestat is the hero of The Vampire Lestat and of The Vampire Chronicles. I think the show runners are starting that redemption arc now. Not the smallest part of which is Lestat as an unknown quantity, uncontrollable if he doesn't want to be.

Daniel's voice is honest and unnervingly direct. He strips the window dressing off of everything, exposing nuance to a critical light that leaves everything sordid and as ugly as reality just is. In that there is, perhaps, the closest we will ever get to the truth.

Arguably, if it weren't for Santiago we might forget that alot of this is bullshit. Angry, jealous, manipulative, Santiago's performance during the trial forces the viewer to confront the reality of a crafted narrative. He knows they're lying and spitting scripted facts skewed for effect. It was brilliant to watch the bounce between his goals and Lestat's constant slide into melancholia. HAHAHA! A hurricane, indeed. That guy was SO. ANNOYED.

Episode 7 continues with the manipulation of the storyline made as clear and explicit as it ever has been. The way the music is used during the trial, Lestat's lies and half-truths, the animation running on the screen. We're being beaten over the head with this blur between performance and reality.

Watching the re-tread of how Claudia became a vampire makes me me feel like I need to go back to watch Season 1. The gaslighting is real! And then Louis' capitulation to the differences in the way he remembers it happened and the way that Lestat says it happens is perfect! Tell it Lestat's way, for the book. Because he DOESN'T REMEMBER. There are, after all, three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth.

Louis' memory has been so tampered with. By time, by Armand's manipulations, by madness, and trauma.

I still maintain that Armand is trash.

I thought the title would be a quote from Louis who in admission of his own powerlessness laments Claudia's death as an unavoidable failure on his part. That it is Armand who has ownership of the line changes the story, as always. I could not prevent it suggests that there was nothing that he could do, but the reality, as has so often been the case with Armand, is that he did not want to. The entire sham trial was preventable had he chosen Louis over the coven to begin with. The unfortunate reality is that he, like Lestat, despised Claudia for Louis' adoration of her. He was jealous and would forever be and the only way that he could have exactly what he wanted was to get rid of her. Doing it this way, he gets to blame the coven and Lestat. Arguably, Lestat for all of his machinations and insecurities, his petulant rage, actually loves and was loved by Louis in a way that Armand, despite Louis's modern protestations, never can or will be.

I'm so in love with the way the story is told that I don't talk too much about Claudia. A BOOK could be written about the silencing of marginalized female voices. Claudia, despite her diaries, has no real voice in this. She is an assemblage of half-remembrances and a yellow dress pinned to the wall. It makes it so much more poignant and electric then that she curses every last person sitting in that theater before she burns. There is no need to hide that or shade it. It was not directed at Louis. Armand's willingness to allow Claudia to burn while not doing the same for Louis is tragic. And again, all of this could have been unnecessary. I've said before that I don't think Armand was ever much of an alpha.

[xieyaohuan]

The Boys in universe merch and worldbuilding (S1E1 foreshadowing edition)

I've been meaning to look at all the references to the Seven and the Vought empire that I could find in Season 1 Episode 1, and turns out there are too many to cover all of them (seeing as tumblr limits posts to 30 images), but I thought I'd at least try to cover all the foreshadowing that happens in the first episode.

Hughie killing Translucent

The opening shot is an ad for Translucent's upcoming movie, and at first, it doesn't seem like there's much going on there, but the line "you can't kill what you can't see" does seem pretty intentional, given that Hughie blows Translucent up right after he turns himself invisible

2. A-Train killing Robin

This taxi with an A-Train ad passes by as the two boys in the opening shot argue about Translucent and The Deep.

Robin and Hughie walk past it again just moments before Robin's death.

3. Starlight and The Deep

This glass in the shot, right before Starlight gets the call she got the job. Make of the milk what you will.

4. A-Train versus Shockwave

This is from the scene where Butcher shows Hughie the commercial power of Vought and The Seven.

5. Homelander's right wing politics

They were placing clues from the start. I just wish their political commentary was a little smarter.

6. Believe Expo

Yup, still that same scene

7. The death of the son of the mayor of Baltimore

I was a little torn on whether or not to include this, but given where and how the kid dies, this is a pretty nasty dedication line. Also, this is Homelander's 'pretty' signature (which is also on the card for Stormfront, but not on Hughie's cast), so I guess that's the official corporate one.

I mean, he dies with that autograph right in front of him.

Bonus discovery: Perhaps in a nod to the comics, Maeve still drinks on the job at the beginning of season 1 right during that Seven meeting; everybody else has water.

[duchessofhastings]

5K CELEBRATION

A Discovery of Witches S1E1 + Timestamp 38:22 - 39:05 requested by @rosalyn51

[elijowa]

The Nice and Accurate Observations of Good Omens by Elijowa, Fan

Being a Close Re-Watching of Season 1 in the Light of What We Now Know from Season 2

Containing therein Analyses of Crowley, Aziraphale and their Relationship throughout the Show

Episode One

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

So I have a confession to make. I've only ever watched Good Omens Season 1 twice and Season 2 once.

I know, I know, I need to get my priorities straightened out! How can I possibly be a fan if I've only got a mere 18h of watch-time under my belt? What can I say? Life keeps on getting in the way.

Anyway, I decided to treat myself with a close re-watching of Season 1 and see what jumps out at me now that we have new information from Season 2. You're very welcome to follow along or ignore these ramblings as you please!

So, without further ado, I present my thoughts on S1E1.

(Much, much more below the cut)

Let's start with the big one:

Crowley and Aziraphale don't appear to be in love - or even "in like" - during Episode 1.

So, picture this: I'm settling down with lots of warm fuzzy anticipation for all the stolen glances and hesitant hand gestures between Aziraphale and Crowley that I was sure I had either missed or forgotten about from my previous two viewings, and I make a surprising discovery:

There aren't any.

They barely seem to like each other in this episode - they are quite distant and snarky with each other (not the affectionate teasing banter that we've come to know and love, but almost a condescending snideness).

I can't see this version of Aziraphale trusting this version of Crowley to aim a live firearm at him (in fact, in the very next episode, he isn't even comfortable with the demon pointing a paintgun at him). And this version of Crowley would not dream of following Aziraphale around to help him fulfil his dream of being a professional conjuror, and actually actively discourages him from pursuing the notion (although, as many people have pointed out, it's amusing to think that this is because of happened the last time he did this).

So what gives? If there are people saying that the ending of S2E6 doesn't make sense (it does) because it betrays the millennia-long journey these characters have been on (it doesn't) - then I feel like we ought to be having that same discussion about the beginning of S1E1.

OK, OK. Obviously there are lots of 'out-of-universe' reasons for this inconsistency in the portrayal of C & A's relationship. This is the first episode of a new series and not all of the audience will be familiar with these characters; it's necessary to start them in the position of being hereditary enemies in order to give them room to grow and change; the show is a faithful adaptation of the book in which there's basically no romantic tension between the A & C at all, and Neil Gaiman is on record saying he didn't want to make any big changes this relationship, since he could sadly no longer consult with Terry Pratchett. Plus, S2 hadn't been written at this point, so there are undoubtedly details that Mr Gaiman didn't yet know with regards to the shared history of Crowley and Aziraphale while writing S1.

My current theory is that the infamous "You go too fast for me Crowley" line was NOT Aziraphale saying "please be patient with me because I need more time to catch up to where you are in our relationship". Rather, it was him saying, "I can't keep doing this. It was fun while it lasted but it's time I grew up, faced reality and put this silly little crush behind me. So goodbye forever." And he meant it.

But where's the fun in just talking about real-world reasons when we can come up with lots of juicy headcanons instead?!

From Crowley's point of view, I think that by now he'd be used to Aziraphale having periodic wobbles about their friendship. And so, from experience, he knows the best way to handle it is to back all the way off until Aziraphale has 'completed his process', is ready to re-engage again - maybe in a couple of hundred years - and things can go back to what Crowley thinks of as normal.

But knowing all this doesn't make it any less hurtful or frustrating to be rejected because of who he is. So maybe Crowley throws himself back into his bad boy role with a bit more venom than usual - still not doing anything directly evil per se, just enough to tick the boxes on some Hellish paperwork (bringing down mobile networks, designing the M25). Maybe he's more likely to foment discontent while simultaneously not really caring about anything he does either way, because what's even the point if he doesn't have his angelic foil around to wind up/impress?

And normally they would both have about a century or two to successfully work through their respective feelings, and so when they eventually reconnect they can slip back into their comfortable familiarity with relative ease. But the birth of the Antichrist screws up this schedule, truncates both of their coping processes, and means neither of them are quite ready to be best buds again. Hence their 'more prickly than what we might expect' attitudes towards each other in Episode One.

Hooo boy. I feel like I've barely even got half way through all the things I noticed and want to talk about in S1E1, but I think I need to save it for another time or we'll be here for all ineffable eternity. Well done if you made it this far and thanks for coming along for the ride!

[almalvo]

STAR TREK: DISCOVERY | S1E1 "The Vulcan Hello"

[I will react to each episode individually and in full, raw reception and then post as is unrevised here onto my tumblr for the full span of every and all NuTrek episodes and series that have been and will be released. If this falls under your field of interest - I welcome your company in joining me. Enjoy the ride.] -------

im sorry. but the fucking graphics took my breath away. not as if im not a 2023rd year modern dweller. BUT. listen. i have been adrift in the world of pre 2009 Star Trek for the better part of a year straight. I am NOT used to Trek looking this way in a series. This 13 year jump from Enterprise to Discovery REALLY shows. And how the advancements of technology have most certainly carried Trek along in its undertow. 13 years….. when at last Star Trek gets to return to its roots in episodic narration. To return home. And my, how gorgeous it looks. Bring it.

I am ready for you.

oh my god. is this. fucking. KLINGON?? i have seen this charcter on the cover of a trek comic before. had no context. IS THIS KLINGON FOR REAL - KAHLESS?? oh my god. they look so different? what has happened???? IS THIS THEIR MODERNISATION OF KLINGONS oh my god its fucking FULL 4K HD I AM NOT USED TO TREK LOOKING LIKE THIS AND IM A FUCKING MILLENIAL/GEN-Z SPLITTER. BUT OVER HERE TALKING LIKE A CAVEMAN OH MY GOD MY EYES

THE LACK OF VERTICAL BARS ON THE LATERAL ENDS OF MY HD MONITOR. THE 2 NEW HORIZONTAL BLACK BARS ABOVE AND BELOW THE IMAGE I CATCH AND SAY ALOUD - "IS THIS REALLY STAR TREK IM SEEING RIGHT NOW BEFORE MINE EYES???" HOLD THE PHONE MICHELLE YEOH IS IN THIS????? EXCUSE ME ??? OH MY GOD THIS IS THEEE MICHAEL BURNHAM?!?!?! oh man they are both so gorgeous oh my god this cgi is lovely oh my god the SATURATION OF HTE COLOURS THE CRYSTAL CLEAR RESOLU TION THE LACK OF GREEN SCREENAGE is this actually star trek that im seeing though no wait are you for real i cant believe this is trek oml that communicator the flip immpeccable oh man im just i feele such an emotion inside watching this the ALIEN DESIGNS this background their environment is so pretty their wardrobe deisngs those goggles the feeling ENTERPRISE THE MUSIC THE ;M;USIC THE U SIC THE HORNS OH MY GOD THE NX??? IS THAT THE NX?????? oh m;y god the transportation THE TENELEPOTATION EFFECTS THE PATTERN IN THE SAND AAAAAAAAAAAA NO FUCKING WAY NO FUCKING WAY THEY ARE STARTING HTE SCORE WITH THE SONOROUS THEME OF THE ORIGINAL OHHH WHAT AN INTERESTING UPGRADE INBETWEEN SHAPE OF HTE ENTERPRISE?!?!?!?! oh my god this intro sequence is so PRETTY OF MY GOD THE PHASER THE PHASER THE COMMUNICATOR OH MY GODDDDDD THE VULCAN SALUTE OH MY GOD THE INTRO SEQUENCE IS SO BEAUTIFUL OH MY GOD ITS SO DIFFERENT ITS SO NEW UGHHH THIS ENDING SEND OFF OF THE NOTES OF THE OP IM SORRY IM NOT SUED TO ANY OF THIS BEING TREK LOOOOOOK AT IT LOOOOOOK AT IT oh my god space looks so beautiful no fucking way this is trek look at these graphicssss i may be born at the terminus of the 20th century, but i sound much older THEIR UNIFORMS ARE SO FUCKING SNAZZZY THAE BRIDGE IS DARKKKK THE SOUND EFFECTS

OH MY GOD LOOK AT THE BRIDGEEEE SARUUUUUUU OH MY GOD I FINALLY I SEEEE SARUUUUUU i didnt know his name is pronounced like that dude i fucking love their uniforms so fucking sharp they look like the communicators oh my god i fucking love everything bout this all the blueee the colours saru is fucking tall i like his facce oh m;y god the chair look at the screens look at the monitors the viewscreen is massive look at the computer schematics and user interfaces also ASIAN WOMAN CAPTAIN HAHAHAHA IT TOOK THIS LONG????? oh my god… trek has never looked better…… something about saru's face reminds me of archer hahah his voice sounds exactly like what i think saru would sound like dude a telescope amazing im sorry i fucking love all this since 00:00 i am just mouth agape im in awe at what im seeing at the evolution of trek having reached this far dude the SUITS LOOK AT THEIR SUITSSSSSSSS THE SPACE SUITSSSSSSS THESE COLOURS my eyes are wet why i just barely contained myself after Enterprise's finale…. this is so gorgeous. this is one hell of a first episode. oh my god its just tooo pristine dude this is a SHOW AND NOT A FILM?? sorry ok im talking trek ok listen having so often beeen under the graphical shadow of things like its child star wars i feel something immense… immeasurable…. i feel… something rather similar to what had ravaged through me when I watched Star Trek: The Motion Picture. seeing the massive upgrades in everything from what came before…

its…. pride. utter, unadulterated pride. to see its imminence be crowned an ornamentation it is beyond deserving of. to don the clothes that match its lustre. at last. star trek desrves to look this good.

is that… a fucking bird of prey. ITS A BIRD OF PREY THOS ARE FUCKING WINGS THAT FUCKING ARMOUR OH MY FUCKING SHIT THAT ARMOUR THOSE DETAILS OH MY GOD FUCKIGN KILL ME AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA it just occurred to me the ranking designations in their uniforms through the metallic hue and striping - lovely KLINGON this redesign of the klingons…… wow these designs and shapes of their attire and architecture its so impressive its so beautiful what an intense elegance i cant believe this star trek. oh my god the klingon roar of death's passing whoaaaa medbay whos the doctor? VUL;CAN VULCANNNNNNNNN LEARNING PODSSSS THIS IS SO SIMILAR TO THE AOS FILM IS THIS TAKING INSPIRATION FROM THE FILM???? UGHHHH VUHLKANSU LOOKS BEAUTIFUL AS EVER oh my god vulcan who are the vulcans we meet in this SAREK??? i have never seen Nutrek Sarek ever before… WAIT HUMAN HEART WHY DID BURNHAM DREAM THAT WHY DID SHE DREAM THAT unless it wasnt her dream but also that child. human heart. sarek this is a while ago uh uhhhh uhhhhhhh no i know its not him. it cant be. oh i like the badges

OH MY GOD THE DECLOAKING SOUND EFFECT LOOK AT THAT THINGGGGG LOOK AT ITTTTTTTT also saru has feathery tendrils?? i didnt know im at the edge of my seat LOOK AT THE KLINGON VESSEL LOOK AT IT OH M;Y GODDDDDD its floors look so nice even its interesting to hear klingon this way almost soft this makes me want to learn klingon more than ever. pale klingon? UGHH IS THAT A BAT'LETH?? GOD EVERYTHIGN LOOKS SO DIFFERENT im sorry wait these new klingon designs look so nice though hold up they have such pleasant shapes saru is so tall i like his proportions big stickman haha saru's eyes are so pretty god these beautiful graphics… i love the love and care that went into this even visually as much deserved as always i want that uniform give it to me

i like how its like the dark blue of Enterprise's uniform carried over to the uniforms in Discovery at least. im so SOO into this right now. im SOOOO into this right now. WHOAAAAAAAA THE BIRD OF PREY(?) SPREADING ITS WINGS LIKE THATTTTT WHOAOAAAAAAA LOOK AT THE LIVING QUARTERS THEY LOOK SO NICEEE I WANT MY ROOM LIKE THIS Sarek what is your relation with michael oml what what is happening oml more Sarek involvement thats so cool we get to see and learn and know more about Sarek??? oh man…. i love what hes wearing. i see that IDIC thing on her desk what is that behind her?? im so curious what burnham and sarek's relationship is how did they meet etc oh my god im sooo invested im SOOOO into this. IMMMM EATEN UP BY THIS. IM FUCKING EEATTING THE SHIIIT OUT OF THISSSSSSS AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRARARRAAAA interesting Vulcan Hello…. Burnham is so pretty oh my god Phillipa is a RULER on that captain's seat. i love these colorus. its so visually alive my eyes are so fucking emotional from whats entering them im eating all of this. these lens flares though EXCUSE ME EXCUSE ME DID SHE JUST DID SHE JUST DO THAT DID SHE DJUST MA'AM MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMM MAAAAI09GHGHJGGG JDUSAITJHAHT SGFKJHSEL RTH HRT HRT THR DID SHE JUST NECK PINCH HER CAPTAIN?? WTFFFFFF IS HAPPPENNNNINGGGG?????????????? WHAT THE FUCUUCKCKKK???? HOLLLYYYYY FUCKKKKK!??!!??!?!?! I LOST ALL AIR WHEN I WITNESSED WHAT I JUST WITNESSED PHASER WTF IS HAPPENING THAT IS A GORGEOUS PHASER BTW oh my god im BLOWN. AWAY. OH MY GOD WARP OH MY GOD THE SHEER NUMBER OF SHIPS. OH MY GODDDDDDDDDDD i i i cant. i cant. i cannot. I CAN NOT.

I- Dear Discovery.

You have caught my attention.

[stardust-musings]

What eps of Strange New Worlds would you recommend to a Spock fan? i enjoyed him and Michael together on Discovery.

I mean, if you liked Ethan Peck in the role then you can't do much wrong by just watching the whole thing. The show is really good overall and Spock has a ton of great scenes sprinkled across the episodes. With only 10 episodes per season it's also not much of a time commitment.

With that said, there are some more Spock-heavy episodes:

S1E1 The pilot to start things off. We also meet T'Pring here who will be a recurring presence in Spock's storyline.

S1E5 Hijinks with T'Pring.

S1E7 Space pirates!

S1E9 Star Trek meets Alien(s) - not super heavy on Spock but there's some important character development.

S2E1 Let's steal the Enterprise!

S2E5 Meeting the future in-laws.

That's it so far, we still have 5 episodes left in S2. Really looking forward to the rest of the season!! :D

[biblioflyer]

Starfleet Doesn’t Shoot First: The Case Against Militarism (Discovery rewatch)

Standing their ground and telling the Klingons “no, you move” got a LOT of people killed.

This is not going to win me many accolades among those who gripe about Starfleet never taking its defensive duties seriously, but I think the meta is very clear here. T’Kuvma was hoping he could create an interstellar incident and he seems to have been counting on a “just so” Starfleet response. One that wasn’t so timid as to make his claims that the Federation represented an existential threat seem silly, but also not so robust that it satisfied the conditions for a “Vulcan Hello” - a forceful response that makes the Federation seem like it would require too much effort. 

Reading between the lines, its law of the jungle logic. Predators need a certain amount of calories to be worth the effort expended in hunting, but the greater the odds of sustaining a debilitating injury the more reticent a predator will be. If we scale this metaphor up to international relations, the difference between a colony and a regional power is whether or not a great power can regime change a state without breaking a sweat or if the cost in blood and treasure would be unacceptable.

Given how events play out in the Battle of the Binary Stars and T’Kuvma’s martyrdom, I think it's very clear that had everyone on the Starfleet side been gifted clairvoyance, the best outcome would have been for Shenzou to be the only ship present when the Great Houses arrived to see who lit the beacon and assess the situation. Shenzou is at extreme risk but it can collect intelligence right up to the moment it needs to either fight or flight. 

An even more cautious approach would have been for Shenzou to withdraw to regroup with the fleet at a central mustering point, but with the risk that the coffin ship and its aspiring Great Khan cloak and vanish to threaten Federation colonies. 

The upsides here are that Shenzou is not sitting there facing down a foe that vastly outclasses her, its harder to start a shooting war if there’s no one around to shoot, and it buys time for cooler heads: the skeptical Great Houses are given no reason at all to respect T’Kuvma because he’s clearly an alarmist trying to seize moral authority based on a non-credible threat. 

The T’Kuvma curious could potentially be mollified by recognizing the legitimacy of the Klingon claim to the system, as represented by the artifact. If a key element in T’Kuvma’s argument for unification is that the Federation is a sneaky, assimilationist power that deconstructs and homogenizes culturally distinct societies, then respecting a Klingon heritage site might undermine that argument. 

Hawks are entitled to grouse about ceding territory based on dumping an invisible artifact there centuries ago and then not bothering to tell anyone, but you don’t have to like cultural relativism for it to potentially be a tool to get you out of a shooting war. This also means that the Federation has time to reassess its defensive posture and start making preparations in case this is one of those times where history decides to validate the other hawk objection: that appeasing a bully encourages them to make ever greater demands.

Because Starfleet’s response was just large enough to make for an interesting fight for the Klingons but not large enough to inflict heavy casualties, the outcome sealed the deal for the Houses that were open to T’Kuvma’s pitch: unite to conquer the Federation and potentially get cloaking technology for your trouble.

But wait! This assumes that the characters have clairvoyance! 

They’re clearly extremely ignorant about the subtleties of Klingon society and the power dynamics that have created conditions in which a proletarian rabble rouser and spiritual leader could arise and pick the right moment to gather the Great Houses, pitch them on unifying against the Federation, with the expectation that Starfleet is going to halfass its response: neither fully committing to deescalation nor exercising strategic prudence and pulling back its forces until it has sufficient force to match the Ship of the Dead and the assembled Great Houses, AND maybe get killed in the process.

Yes, yes, yes, but this entire scenario is why Starfleet practices deescalation in the first place. Burnham screwed up epically, not just in trying to mutiny, she read the situation wrong: a decapitation strike wouldn’t necessarily end the threat of a Great Khan if the Great Khan is actually a Messianic figure, something she only realizes after she’s had time to think things through and chat with Sarek in the brig. She even admits that her judgment was clouded by her desire to protect her ship and crew and, implicitly, the idea of nipping a Klingon crusade in the bud was an irrational, irresponsible rationalization of the instinct to destroy that ship because Georgiou wasn’t going to back down with civilians at risk.

Because ultimately for the “Vulcan Hello” to make any kind of sense, it can’t be just about defeating random Klingons, not just about shooting first. It's about demonstrating the force and the willingness to use it as a credible deterrent. Thus if the Great Houses arrive and see that T’Kuvma got himself blown to smithereens by a vastly inferior Starfleet ship, would they have sized up the situation and decide the Federation is full of mighty warriors or will they correctly ascertain that T’Kuvma was killed by treachery or his own stupidity?

The entire scenario of “The Vulcan Hello” seems to rest upon, at least superficially, the idea that the Klingons are relatively simple brutes who will be deterred by lethal force, whereas Starfleet standing policies take into account that hidden variables are often present in tense situations and prudence almost always favors trying to buy time to figure out what those hidden variables are. 

As Lorca says “context is for kings.”

There’s blame for Georgiou here too, but it's very muted. She put her ship and crew at extreme risk trying to talk the Klingons down, but she also had the secondary motive of recognizing that Shenzou was the first line of defense for nearby colonies that we can infer likely didn’t have defenses that were up to the task of dealing with a dreadnought that can appear and disappear at will. 

She made a choice and it wasn’t an unreasonable choice, it just wound up being the wrong choice. Starfleet should have ordered her to pull back and link up with the fleet outside the system when the Great Houses arrived, if not earlier. Prior to the arrival of the Great Houses, their rationale was likely the same as Georgiou’s: keep hailing, keep talking, and keep gathering intelligence, but once the Great Houses were in place Starfleet should have recognized that if things went sideways, they weren’t arriving with enough firepower to win that fight.

[lifewithaview]

Louis Hofmann in Dark (2017) Geheimnisse

S1E1

The small german town of Winden is shook by the disappearance of a teenage boy. Some of the townsfolk look back to the events thirtythree years ago, when another teenage boy had disappeared. While most of them are occupied with secrets of their own, a group of teenagers heads into the woods near the towns caves at night, to recover something the missing boy may have left behind. What they find is not exactly what they were looking for. When they realize, that unknown danger awaits them in the dark of the woods as well as in the shadows of the caves, two of them get separated from the others in a headless flight to safety. In the Morning the Police makes a startling discovery - all between the looming nuclear power plant, that's about to be shut down, and the chilling, black shadows of the caves.

*Ulrich's brother is named Mads, Ulrich's son is named Mikkel, combined they are Mads Mikkel. Perhaps a tribute to a certain actor who has facial similarities to Ulrich. This could as well be a nod to the german movie "Die Tür" (2009) featuring Mads Mikkelsen - a movie which has a similar setting.

[janebae]

ok so i feel like to fix the episode you gotta drop us into an ensemble crew which seem to know each other and like each other. You don’t need to figure it all out, but this is their seventh year together, make them feel like they’ve worked together that long. Give them all names and something to do. 

[beehives-and-butterflies]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation, CSI: Vegas (2021) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gil Grissom/Sara Sidle Characters: Gil Grissom, Sara Sidle Additional Tags: Coda, Episode: s01e01 Legacy, Spoilers for Legacy, GSR - Freeform, Tenderness, Mild Hurt/Comfort Summary:

Sara and Gil reunite in Vegas.

[umika]

I think that what Matthew murmured in the church in episode 1 is the Luke 1:74 of Douay–Rheims Bible:

“That being delivered from the hand of our enemies, we may serve him without fear”