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#etho: never in uniform. not even trying.
athanmis · 4 months
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PET postal!!!!
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unhonest-iago · 2 months
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Where Am I? Who Am I?
AO3 link - this was written for the hermitcraft guess the author 2024 event. do go check out the other authors as found in the AO3 collection.
Etho awoke a random summer's day to unfamiliar surroundings. It wasn't his usual base build. Instead, he found himself in a green bedspread with an accompanying nightstand stacked high with romance books. All the titles in Japanese. Startled, he decided to search around. See if he could find any more information as to where he had suddenly been transported to. Not knowing how he'd fallen asleep, was the moon still growing?
'Yikes,' Etho realized exactly where he was after recognizing the figure in the bathroom window. One less pixelated than it should be. His jacket no longer baring the Canadian flag emblem on the sleeve. Nor did his headband. A headband that was more of an eye patch if he was honest. Instead, it was a symbol that looked to be an abstract bird. A beak with a swirl branching off of it. Etho tried to recall everything he knew about the Naruto series. What arc even is this? Unfortunately he’d have to interact with the other characters to figure out.
Etho wasn’t the only one. Kakashi awoke to a pixelated wooden house. Did his vision get this bad overnight? Looking down, he was relieved to see his uniform still intact. But like Etho, he noted the difference in emblems. Lucky for him, Etho wasn’t involved in any big plans. Their personalities similar in that they were both aloof individuals. If only he had his books, Kakashi wistfully thought to himself.
The Hermits, one by one would eventually have the epiphany that something was off with their friend. ‘I asked him if he could fix the meal bone farm…it’s almost as if he short circuited,’ Iskall remarked to Grian. Telling him more about how “Etho” fell off their base, completely forgetting about the waterfall elevator. Going berserk with the belief that he only had one life.
'Have you noticed anything weird about Kakashi-Sensei?' Sakura reluctantly asked Naruto. 'Besides him not reading those boring novels? Not really.' Sakura on the other hand had noticed the change in “Kakashi's” demeanor. The man was more jovial, more talkative. Sakura decided that if a doppelganger had replaced their sensei, the best course of action would be to ask something that only their sensei would. But what? Oh, those pesky books. Kakashi would definitely know the plot lines backwards and forwards. Especially as it'd been one of his notable traits since they had first met. But Sakura didn't know anything about them. All the more reason to ask.
'Hey Sensei? What happened in the last volume of Make Out Tactics?' Naruto sputtered out in shock, 'but you weren't interested when I offered to explain last week! Ow! What was that for?' Sakura kicked his shin, trying to get him to shut up. Etho had zero clue. All he knew was that they were some erotica series and that he should act bashful. 'Uh, well, I don't think that's something I should be telling you, at your age,' Etho hoped his acting was up to par. Rather, it cemented what Sakura thought. If it had been their sensei, he wouldn't be able to form a coherent answer at all.
It's when the moon glows larger in the pixelated sky for the final time that the two are returned back to their respective places. Sakura is stuck as the only one aware. Later being gas lit by both Naruto and Kakashi who is actually Kakashi again. Simply told it was a figment of overactive chakras. Kakashi wants to leave it in the past and never mentions the horrors he had witnessed. Fighting against multiple creatures—mobs as the celestial body rose higher on the horizon. Iskall on the other hand confronts Etho which results in him divulging everything from the moment he woke up to the moment he returned. Glad to be back in his mountainous base.
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dnickels · 7 months
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The​ Imperial War Museum was established in 1917, while the fighting was still going on, ‘as a record of the toil and sacrifice of those who had served in uniform’ during the Great War. It was first called the National War Museum; the change to ‘Imperial’ was made after India and the Dominions complained that the name did not reflect their sacrifices. Today it describes itself as a ‘global authority on conflict’. It is a subdued and serious place, eager to point out that it does not celebrate war or victory; it was never supposed to be a frozen military parade, even if the suspended Spitfire in the main atrium – the military equivalent of the Natural History Museum’s Diplodocus – appeals directly to Britain’s neurotic Second World War triumphalism. Toil and sacrifice remain the watchwords. (Only in the gift shop does discipline break down, with poppy-spattered kitchenware and Churchill cult icons playing to a less reconstructed wartime imaginary.) The museum’s commemorative ethos presents war as a kind of social paroxysm, which from time to time afflicts ordinary men and women. A carefully weighted combination of historical exactitude and apolitical detachment can be maintained for the world wars, as they were joined in defence against aggression and fought by conscript armies; with 9/11 and ‘terrorism’ emerging as the pivot point, the museum also shows ambiguous signs of trying to construe 21st-century engagements in Iraq and Afghanistan as similar tragedies of necessity. There is some justice in this approach. Soldiers do not start or choose the conflicts they are shipped off to fight. But many of Britain’s 20th-century conflicts would not respond well to the same treatment: the Kenyan torture camps, the Special Night Squads of Palestine, the beheaders of the Malayan Emergency and Britain’s other dirty wars of colonial counterinsurgency are not easily transformed into neutral objects of genuflection. Castrating prisoners with pliers is the wrong kind of toil and sacrifice.
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artbyblastweave · 3 years
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A Theory about The Unproduced Amelia Season
I think Amelia’s book would have served to reframe her takeover of the train as, at least initially, a good thing. On some level, I think it was a good thing. When we first meet Amelia in Book 4, she’s in some form of Dialogue with One; he’s walking her through the proceedings of the train, laying it all out for her. And frankly, he’s framed a lot like a supervillian here.
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This isn’t the One-one that traveled with Tulip. He’s a united front, with a specific goal and ethos. His name drips with ego. He’s cold, calculating. He’s a robot hidden behind an uncanny face. He knows the train kills people. Probably a lot of people. He doesn’t care. They fix their shit- with limited guidance and resources- or they die. For all intents and purposes, he’s either PG Jigsaw or he’s playing Metatron to one.
Then there’s Amelia. Amelia, about whom we can observe several things;
She’s known to have a knack for subverting tyrannical, bureaucratic systems. She undercuts the phone company. She jokingly tries to talk Alric into ditching graduation. She does poorly in a classroom setting but she’s brilliant when she applies herself.
In an era when all passengers have specific uniforms-branded with One’s face, no less, Amelia is wearing the boots, (which physically can’t be removed) but not the soulless; identity-erasing uniform.
She’s penetrated very far into the infrastructure of the train. You don’t get this far on your first day, or without subverting a lot of systems to get One’s personal, undivided attention.
She has no Denizen with her here. That’s odd; with the exception of Grace, most passengers tend to accumulate denizens pretty quickly after they board the train. Kez demonstrates that, under One, this is what Denizens do- it’s their duty to explain the set-up and assist the passengers, although she personally isn’t “conventionally” good at it (she helps by being so incompetent they have to devise workarounds to the problems she creates.) 
So what we’re looking at here is coded like a Bond Villain Speech to a protagonist that you’d get at the climax. This is after the plucky, headstrong, anti-authoritarian heroine has pushed through countless dangers on the train proper, to break into the inner sanctum of a sanctimonious demigod. This is after she’s asserted her individuality with clothes instead of a uniform. 
This is after any denizens she potentially encountered have left her company; maybe through second-act heroic sacrifice, or just by being left behind when One brought her into the main tour. (It’s possible she never encountered any, but from a meta standpoint it’s unlikely the whole book would have been her with One-One and no one else.) In the construction of a typical horror thriller or heroic action adventure, we’d be witnessing zero hour. Now let’s look at her influence on Ryan and Min’s adventure. She exerts influence twice; once at the Party Car, and once at the castle.  In the Party car, she gives them back their stuff. Ryan’s Guitar, Min-Gi’s minisynth, their clothes. All flatly necessary to get through the car, to resolve their problems in general, and it’s pretty clear that One wasn’t going to give them that stuff if Amelia hadn’t suggested it; she’s in some kind of dialogue with him that can be heard through the Steward. 
And someone pointed out that in the other seasons, the stuff that the passengers bring on board with them is a reflection of themselves, their strengths and their pasts. Someone aside from me pointed out that under One’s system, Tulip wouldn’t have had the pocket knife that she used to rescue Lake- and that was the only conceivable takeaway from that car, that you need to extend empathy even to people who are hurting you while pursuing their own needs. They pointed out that without his phone and the recording, Lake wouldn’t have been able to help Jesse through his issue with Nate and Troy. He could have kept dancing around that forever.  So this is clearly Amelia at a point where she’s trying to introduce a Reform to a broken system. And it’s a good one! The second time she shows up, she takes the pair’s magnoboots, proclaims that “we are on our own,” and (accidently)  self-destructs the stewards. That’s a demonstration that she’s in control at this point, if not competent control.
 It’s telling that the most prominent thing One’s regime provides to the Passengers are boots that can be used as restraining bolts if they start doing something he doesn’t like. It’s also telling that Amelia’s first act as Conductor was to remove those restraining bolts from everyone on the train. Her breakdown at the end of Book One is at least partially informed by her knowledge of how callously One-One ran things when she hadn’t rendered him a complete moron. Her brusque, no-nonsense attitude in Book 3 results from the fact that she’s not actually sorry about overthrowing One-One; she recognizes that there was a mechanical limit stopping her from bringing back Alrick, that she took One-One’s little speech about the train being capable of anything too literally, and that her time in charge could have been spent far more productively. But that was purely a practical error, not necessarily a moral one; she isn’t shown to care about denizens any more than One One or the Apex do, and she doesn’t care about the train working beyond what’s necessary to burn off her sentence.
Considering all of this, I think that a book about Amelia would have been framed as a full-circle revolution; a story about Dorothy finding the man behind the curtain, finding him lacking, and usurping him. The tragedy isn’t that the real conductor was overthrown; the tragedy is that Amelia fails to improve meaningfully on his performance.  She failed to recognize her newfound capacity, and her moral responsibility, to improve the system for everyone; Instead, she got lost for thirty years in the pipe dream of bringing back Alrick, with nothing to show for it but turtles.
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shepard-ram · 2 years
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📺 Hello Shep its been awhile!!!!! My writing brain died lmao BUT I went into the discord archives and found some headcanons that I wrote but never sent here! I wrote these either at the very end of season 7 or the very start of season 8, and since then some of them have been proven canon or debunked lmao. I also revised them and added onto a few ^^
-Bdubs, Tango, and Impulse all have tinnitus from being the boomers. Bdubs has it the worst and has some permanent hearing loss from being blown up constantly. It’s why he’s always yelling.
-Keralis still gets nervous going through nether portals bc of area 77 and a nether portal is what separated him from hermitcraft way back when
-all ex-members of the nHo have/had a group picture of them. Etho keeps it in one of his vest pockets, Beef has it framed on his desk, Doc keeps his in his wallet, and Bdubs burned his due to bad memories of the jungle.
-Bdubs claims to not know what the nHo is (this is semi-canon btw, he said this during one of his first livestreams back during season 6)
- Doc is the only member of the nHo who misses it and wants to regroup, but understands that the other members have their own reason for wanting to stay separate and gave up trying to get back together
-during the nHo days Doc and Bdubs got really drunk together and married each other. They didn’t realize it was a real document so they were officially married for a few weeks before they decided it was better to get a divorce. There’s no hard feelings and they still joke/tease each other about it
- during season 6 when Stress and Iskall were neighbors, Iskall would let Stress grow flowers in his lab because she couldn’t grow them in her base due to it being on a glacier
-Joe is afraid of heights (this was proved canon I think?)
-the only people who have seen X with his helmet off is Keralis, Joe, and Hypno
-Doc is fuzzy like a creeper
-Tangos eyes are red due to a really bad redstone accident. His vision now has a slight red “filter” and he can see better in the dark than before. They also admit light like redstone ore.
-Doc lost his eye in his early 20s trying to impress his friends. He doesn’t like to talk about it, he finds it embarrassing.
-Impulse is like 1/6 demon. It only allows him to be summoned however.
-the reason we haven’t seen worm man since season 5 is bc Zed lost the uniform.
-X and EX aren’t human but extremely similar to humans. Their race is called “Slayers”
-“Xisuma” is a surname. X’s first name is actually “Void” It’s common in Slayer culture to have your name be a noun or adjective. It’s also common to have your surname go first, but Evil X puts his first name first as a form of rebellion.
-Evil X thinks X is a “stuck up snob” and a “stickler for the rules”
-Evil X is 100% the younger brother and is just bitter at X because X was the golden child while EX was the problem child
-The only reason EX followed X when he left home is because even though he hated him, X was the only person who gave EX even a sliver of respect and didn’t just see him as “the problem child”
Damn I need to write again👀
AYYYYYYY It's great to have ya over here again Tele!! Since this is a longer post I honestly don't have much to say, but I thoroughly enjoy all of these. I have eaten the headcanons, they are mine now.
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melon-wing · 4 years
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My Captain [Pirate AU]
[PIRATE AU MASTERLIST] This is part two of @gridoc ‘s birthday present, also based on a wonderful commission she did for me! This is set way after the other stories, when Grian just left the navy and joined Doc’s crew
~*~
Grian stood at the railing of the ship, looking at the first rays of the sun peaking out at the horizon, searching for any sign of a navy ship. He was now part of Doc’s crew… And wasn’t this a weird thing to even think about, let alone say out loud? Sure, he had wanted to do it. He never did anything this rash without thinking about it… It was still weird. Especially in situations like these, everyone asleep but him, the safety of a whole pirate crew in his hands.
He had been the last one to take the night shift and it was always a challenge for him, standing out here all alone with nothing but his thoughts keeping him company. He was only glad the others trusted him enough to put him on the night shift at all. It really spoke louder than a thousand words.
He heard the creak of a door and steps, making him tense a bit. He took a deep breath and forced his shoulders to relax again, before turning around.
Ren stood a few steps towards him, a bright smile on his face. Ren was always the first one to get up on deck and he was the only one who was always bright and cheery right after getting up. Ren walked up to him, but stopped about a metre away, leaving him his space, just like he always did. And Grian was thankful for that.
“Did anything happen? Any ships? Any scary magical feelings?”
Grian shook his head. “I would have called you if that was the case.”
Ren nodded and stretched a bit. “Good, good. Doc should be out and about in a few along with the rest of the crew.” Ren looked at him for a while, as if he wanted to say something but held back. Grian was pretty sure it was something concerning Doc and he was really glad that Ren never actually went through with asking. Because he might have joined the crew to get away from the navy, but he still got confused everytime he thought about his relationship with the crew’s captain. And they all must have noticed.
“Not now, Ren.”
“That’s what you say every time. One day you’ll need to talk about it… Or at least think about it.”
“There’s not a day I don’t think about it.” Grian smiled and looked at the sea, his loose hair flying in the wind. “I owe your Captain my life after all. He came when no one else did. He’s… He’s important to me. I just don’t know if I really...”
Grian stopped himself when the door to the deck opened again and Doc stepped out. His smile widened a bit, a warm feeling entering his chest as he looked at his… the Captain. Doc was rubbing his eye, his hair was a mess, his clothes dishevelled and a deep frown showed that he had probably once more been kicked out of bed by either Etho or False. Going by the size of that frown it had probably been Etho and Doc had most likely already heard more than one bad joke this early in the morning.
When Grian turned his gaze back, he realised that Ren was looking at him knowingly, a wide smirk on his face, arms crossed in front of his chest, one eyebrow raised. And Grian immediately knew what that look meant. “Oh, shut up.”
“I’m not saying anything”, Ren replied in a sing-song voice.
“You were thinking about it! Stop that!” Grian grumbled and when Ren started laughing he threw his hands up in frustration and walked to the door leading below deck. It was his turn to get some sleep while the rest of the crew started working.
This also meant he had to walk past Doc. Grian realised with annoyance that his heart started beating a bit faster the closer he got.
“Doc”, he said shortly when he was a few steps away from Doc.
He would never get used to this, the way Doc’s head snapped up to look at him, the way just uttering one word made Doc smile so brightly, his eyes sparkling with uncontainable joy.
Doc behaved so differently around him than around any other member of his crew, keeping him at the back at each and every battle. And Grian hated that. He was one of the best fighters on this ship. He had proven that, when he had defeated Doc a few years back. But Doc treated him like he was made out of glass and unable to protect himself.
“Grian, are you...”
“Going to bed. See you when we hit land”, Grian just replied shortly.
Grian didn’t look back when he went below deck, the route already so familiar. He walked past the Captain’s cabin and then stopped at the next door. This room totally wasn’t the place a newcomer like him deserved or would have gotten if it had been anyone but him. It was a miracle the rest of the crew didn’t hate him for this blatant favouritism.
Grian sighed and stepped into the room, taking off his belt and weapons, putting them all aside, except for a small knife that he laid down right next to his pillow. He took off his shirt next, keeping his eyes on the wooden wall straight ahead. He didn’t want to see the faint marks that were still covering his body. One day they’d fade or become just another scar on his body, but that day wasn’t today; that day was still far away.
~*~
There was loud knocking on his door and Grian awoke with a start, hand instantly flying to the knife, eyes searching the room.
“Grian? We put down the anchor. Doc wants you to get ready.”
Grian took a deep breath at the sound of Etho’s voice from outside and slowly put his knife down. The disorientation from having just woken up disappeared again.
“I’ll be out in a minute.”
When Grian stepped on the deck, the others were already busy unloading some wares to sell off and he immediately went over to help, when Doc stepped into his path.
“Not today. They can handle that, Grian. I really need someone to… accompany me into town and I’d like for you to come along.”
Grian knew what Doc was doing. He rarely let Grian go anywhere on his own, let alone have him somewhere out of his sight when they were off the Golden Goat. And it annoyed Grian that he went along with it every time. He never once went against Doc’s orders, no matter how stupid they sometimes were. But he felt safest when he was with Doc. No one else made him feel this way. That still didn’t stop him from arguing.
“You know that you don’t really need me. I won’t be in any danger here. My Captain let me go to town alone all the time.”
Grian noticed the way Doc flinched a bit and then he realised that he had slipped up… Again. 
“I am your Captain, Grian.” Doc’s voice was so gentle, but Grian still felt a tremble running through his body as if he had been reprimanded. He had been part of the crew for a while now. He still referred to his old Captain as his Captain far too often. He still referred to himself as a navy officer sometimes… And he had never once called Doc his Captain. He knew Doc had noticed… He had even once overheard Doc talking to Ren about it. He knew Doc blamed himself when Grian slipped up like that, thinking he wasn’t making Grian feel as a part of the crew.
“Sorry”, he muttered quietly and as an apology – and maybe as a way to change the topic - added on, “I’ll accompany you. We can leave right now, if you want to.“
Doc‘s face lit up a bit, but Grian could see the way his smile was strained just a little. They were both trying their best, but everything was still too new to work flawlessly. Grian really hoped he‘d get used to this sooner rather than later. It had been his decision after all. He had wanted this… Well, at least he thought that way. Doc always pretended that Grian hadn’t had any other choice. Maybe that was the reason he thought Grian didn‘t feel like he belonged. And maybe sometimes… Maybe sometimes he really didn’t.
“Let‘s go then”, Doc said and started walking, Grian right behind him as they moved down to the port. “This is a pretty neutral area, so They didn’t have to worry much. The navy doesn‘t drop by often and when they do, they never really get into fights. They are too scared to lose business here if they anger the traders. The traders got good wares and money and pirates are among their best customers.”
They walked past a lot of people hurrying around. The port was buzzing with activity, ships leaving and arriving, wares being loaded, repairs being made. It was chaos, but it was a chaos Grian was used to. Seeing everyone run around, busy with their own life made him feel calmer. Nobody was paying any attention to him and Doc. They weren’t a feared pirate Captain and a traitorous navy officer here. They were just two more people walking through the streets 
“So…”, Grian started when they left the port, moving on to the streets of the town, passing by some vendors trying to sell their wares. “What exactly are we doing here?”
“Oh, just some old acquaintance of mine I need to visit. She sells information, for a certain price, you know? I think she likes me enough. I never have to pay too much to get what I want.”
“So… You hussle her.”
Doc smirked slightly, taking the accusation almost like a compliment. “Well not exactly. I‘m just really good at bargaining, you know? I can be pretty convincing if I want to be. I also always try to get some nice jewelry for her. She likes that.”
Grian rolled his eyes a bit and turned his gaze back to the street. They were getting further away from the main road. The shops were becoming more run down, the wares in the window getting more and more illegal and Grian was pretty sure they had entered a blackmarket area.
He had been in those areas a lot back in the navy, but wearing his uniform, people had always been scared by him, trying to hide their more exotic and expensive items, seeing him as a threat to their business. Now everyone was looking at them with a calculating expression, some even trying to approach them with their wares. Doc made them all back away with one glance.
They turned another corner, the house fronts becoming even more broken, some of the vendors only using small blankets on the floor to show their wares. Finally, right in the middle of the street, in front of a black wooden door, Doc came to a halt. 
Grian looked at the building. It was small, the windows were covered with fabric on the inside. The glass had countless cracks and he wondered how it was still holding together. The black paint of the door must have been newer than the house and window, since it was the only thing not completely run down, only chipping off in a few places.
“This looks really welcoming. I‘m glad you took me along after all. Wouldn‘t want you here all by yourself.”
Doc glanced at Grian and shrugged. “I‘ve been alone here a lot before, don‘t worry. It‘s safe. She wants me to stay her customer after all.” Doc stopped, smiling sheepishly, probably remembering how he‘d told Grian that he needed him here. “It‘s still a good idea not to wander around here alone in case something does happen. You never know. And you’re one of my best fighters after all.”
Grian chuckled quietly and motioned Doc to go on, not even commenting on the rambling. Doc sighed and turned back to the door, knocking a few times in what might have been a pattern or a code… Or maybe just Doc being extra again.
There were steps on the other side and then a small window inside the door slid open. Gray eyes stared at Doc, then at Grian and back to Doc, squinting slightly, showing the deep wrinkles around them even more clearly. 
“Doc. Didn‘t I tell you not to show your ass around here again?” A voice croaked at them, sounding really pissed off. 
“Well nice to see you too! It‘s been so long! I brought you a present.”
The eyes snapped to Grian and seemed to take him in from head to toes. He shuddered below the almost invasive stare. “Didn’t take you as that kind of guy, Captain Doc. You know he‘s too old to sell. Although, given the right customer I might…”
Grian could practically feel the air around them getting darker as Doc growled in annoyance or maybe anger.
“You won‘t put your grimy hands on him. He‘s part of my crew. If you so much as touch him our business here is over.”
“As if I have ever wanted to do business with you, Doc.”, she grumbled and the small window slammed shut. Grian thought that would be it. Doc had managed to piss her off enough for her to cut ties, but a second later the door opened and the old lady stood in front of them. She was wearing a dusty worn out dress that had probably seen better days once upon a time.
She was still glaring at Doc, but then stepped aside to let them pass. When Doc had walked by her, she turned her eyes to Grian and her mouth twisted into a smile that sent shivers down his spine. He hurriedly went after Doc and inside the room. It was dark in here and the air reeked of dust and mold. There was barely any light, except for a few torches lining the walls. 
The walls were covered in dark dusty fabric. The room was lined with shelves containing a missmatch of items. There were books and maps, things floating in glasses. Grian really didn‘t want to look too close at them. He was pretty sure he’d seen some body parts.
In the middle of the room stood a desk and the lady wobbled past them again to sit on the other side of it. 
“So, Captain. What can I do for you? Treasure Maps? Love potion for your Navy toy?”
Doc flinched at the last part and Grian‘s eyes widened.
“How did you know?”, Doc‘s voice seemed calm, but Grian could tell how tense he was from the way he sounded. 
“Word gets around my boy. Some say you seduced a Navy soldier to join you, others say you fell for him and kidnapped him to have your wicked way with him. Poor boy in the claws of a horrible pirate, who doesn‘t care for anything but his own pleasure and not the well being of-“
“I‘m perfectly fine!”, Grian interrupted her, hands balled into fists. He‘d seen the shadow crossing Doc‘s face. He knew Doc still blamed himself for everything that had happened. He wouldn‘t have some old lady berating him. “I joined his crew because I wanted to, because he was there for me when the navy wasn‘t, because the navy is a bunch of arseholes. So stop your stupid gossiping. He hasn’t kidnapped anyone.“
The old lady‘s eyes stayed on Grian for a while and then she smiled softly, her eyes becoming more gentle.
“Oh. So it‘s you after all. I thought so. You don‘t look like you belong here. You look far too proper to mingle among pirates and us low lifes.“ She clapped twice and out of one of the dark corners stepped a young girl. 
Doc squinted his eyes at her, looking uncomfortable at the presence of a mere child. “I thought you worked alone.”
“I‘m not getting any younger, my boy. I took on an assistant. But don‘t worry. I‘ll send her away while we do business”, she said, scribbling something on a piece of paper with an old worn quill before handing it to the small girl. She couldn‘t have been more than 10 years old. „Go fetch this for me, dearie. Hurry along. You don‘t have all day. I want you back by the time these two gentlemen leave.”
The child nodded, not ever speaking up and just hurried out of the room. Grian looked after her and then sighed, turning back to the old woman.
“So, Captain Doc, I heard you came bearing gifts? If it‘s nice enough I might consider listening to your questions. Not promising any answers though.”
Doc didn‘t look too happy, but he took out a small bag out of his pocket, throwing it onto the desk. With a sudden burst of speed the old lady grabbed the bag, tearing it open and turning it around, a few necklaces and bejewled rings fell out. She looked at them for a while and from the sparkle in her eyes Grian could tell that she was very happy with her present, even when she tried to keep an emotionless face.
“Well. At least these don‘t look as pitiful as the last ones you brought me. They are almost halfway decent. I will listen to you, but I can‘t promise you any help. For a gift this cheap I‘ll only do it if I want to and if it‘s not too much trouble.”
“I need information. I need to know about a pirate raid. 10 years ago on Gedwyld
Island. Pirates attacked a small seemingly unimportant village. They were ordered by someone else to attack. It was no accident that those pirates were on the island that day. I need to know who was behind the attack. And I want to know why they attacked. Who was ordering them to do it?”
Grian‘s head snapped towards Doc, eyes going wide. He had thought that Doc would just ask for some maps or some inside information for the navy, not this. Why was Doc interested in his childhood home? Was Doc doing this for him? What would having this information even achieve?
“That is quite a lot of questions, my boy.”
The old lady looked at Doc in deep thought. Her eyes darted to one of the clocks hanging on the wall. Grian followed her gaze, the time on that one seemed off. According to the clock it was just a few minutes after noon, when it was already late noon. When he kept staring at it for a while he realized that the hand was going backwards. Huh… Weird.
“It is. If you have answers, I will reward you of course. If you don‘t have the information I‘ll pay you a small fee to gather them and we will return in a month to collect them.”
The old lady looked thoughtful, nodding slowly before turning around in her chair and grabbing a heavy old looking book from the shelf behind her. Her eyes darted to the clock once more. The hand had moved back another minute. She started to slowly flip through the pages, taking her time to trace the lines with her finger before flipping to the next. 
Grian could tell Doc was getting impatient next to him. He kept tapping his foot on the floor, clenching and unclenching his fists. And Grian could relate to this restless feeling.
“Well it looks like you will need a while, old hag. So how about we leave now and-”
“No! Stay!” The urgency in her voice startled Grian. Doc next to him raised an eyebrow.
“If you‘re so worried about losing business you should hurry up. I‘m a busy man. My ship doesn‘t run itself.”
The clock ticked backwards another minute and when the old lady looked at it again, she smiled in satisfaction.
“Ah, well. Looks like it‘s too late now anyways. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Captain, but the navy just pays so much better. You really shouldn‘t have pissed them off, taking one of their little stars into your greedy hands. They apparently had big plans for him. Plans that are worth a fortune.“
Doc‘s hand immediately flew to his sword, Grian had his in hand already, when the door burst open. Grian's heart immediately sank. Two navy officers stood in the door, the little girl right behind them, pointing a shaky finger in their direction.
"Surrender, Captain Doc!", the first navy officer shouted, glaring at Doc, before his gaze turned to Grian and he sneered. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen, haven't they, Lieutenant?"
Grian tightened his grip on the sword, casting a short glance in Doc's direction. Those two soldiers would be no problem for them, but Grian really didn't want to hurt them too badly. He knew he shouldn't think of them any different than all his other enemies, but it was still so hard. Seeing the uniforms sure triggered something inside him, but it also held him back. Fighting alongside people wearing those outfits had been too ingrained into his head.
"Well. I won't. I don't see the need to surrender to some poor weaklings like you", Doc replied, talking down to those navy officers with a smirk, but Grian could tell that he was worried from the way his fingers twitched a little. He got why Doc felt tense like that. They were still far away from the ship and didn't know how many navy officers were rushing over to their location right now. They were in danger and couldn’t tell how much would be thrown their way.
"Oh, there is some incentive for surrendering, you know. If you two surrender we won't hurt the traitor. The higher ups still have some use for the cursed child. But if you decide to fight I really can't guarantee for his safety. You know things happen in the heat of the battle. I never liked Lieutenant Grian that much. My blade could accidentally run through him and-"
The officer stopped, when Grian snorted loudly and turned to glare at him.
"Oh please, Henry. You couldn't hit a pirate dummy if it stood right in front of you back in our academy days. It's a wonder they let someone like you graduate." 
Just as Grian had expected of his hot headed opponent, he let out an enraged scream and charged forward without putting any thought into his action, blade outstretched to pierce Grian. 
“Idiot”, Grian just whispered with a smirk and ducked under the blade, grabbing the arm of the soldier and throwing him over his shoulder onto the old lady‘s desk. „Let‘s leave, Doc. We need to get back to the crew!“
Doc looked at the fallen soldier and then at him and nodded, before charging the remaining officer. Doc‘s blade pierced right through him and Grian winced as a cold shiver ran down his back, seeing blood pour over the white shirt of the navy uniform. Every fiber inside of him wanted to help the officer falling down. This was his comrade. This was a law abiding citizen. He should help. He could help. He needed to save him. But when Doc grabbed his arm, Grian averted his gaze from the body, looking into Doc‘s worried eyes.
“You good?”
Doc knew. Doc always knew. That was the reason he never let Grian fight alongside them when it came to going against the navy even though he‘d been with them for a month now.
“Yes. Just…” Grian motioned around them to the fallen officers, though the one Grian had attacked was mostly uninjured and just unconscious. “It‘s… Those are people I went to the academy with. Takes time getting used to. I’m just glad they aren‘t part of my crew and I don‘t have to fight my capt-“
Grian stopped himself, but he could still see the look of hurt flashing over Doc‘s face, before Doc turned away, dropping his hand from Grian‘s arm. “Let‘s hurry along.”
They pushed past the little girl and stepped outside the shop. Grian could hear shouts in the distance that were pretty unmistakably navy soldiers screaming out orders. A lot of the vendors along the streets were suddenly in a hurry, trying to hide parts of their wares.
The shouts were coming from the direction they had arrived from - the direction leading back to the port. Grian just prayed that the navy hadn‘t gotten to the Golden Goat yet. Not that he didn‘t trust Ren to take command and defend the ship, but it would just complicate things.
Before Grian could decide what to do, Doc had grabbed his wrist, pulling him along into one of the side alleys. Grian rushed along, but his eyes kept darting to the hand touching him. These last weeks, Doc had done his best to avoid any form of prolonged touch to give Grian space. Almost all of the contact they‘ve had, had been initiated by Grian. And not once since the rescue from… not once had Doc pulled him along by his hand.
They turned another corner. Doc cast a glance back at him and noticed the way Grian looked at the hand, letting go immediately.
“Sorry. We needed to hurry. I didn’t think… I shouldn‘t have done that.“
“It‘s fine. Let‘s keep going. Take the lead and I‘ll follow you.”
Doc nodded and started running again, Grian hot on his trail. Doc made his way swiftly through the tiny alleys, jumping over more than one wall and Grian went after him, trusting him blindly. Doc knew these streets far better than him after all. The port was getting closer. Grian could see the mast of the Golden Goat in the distance, recognizing it among all the other ships even from this far away.
“We have to turn onto the main road next. Be prepared for an attack once we do“, Doc called back and Grian adjusted the grip on his sword. He was ready for anything the world would throw at him. 
Well… Everything but a navy officer jumping down from a roof of one of the houses framing the alley, landing right between them, making Grian stop in his tracks. Doc kept running into the main road a few metres before he finally realised that Grian wasn‘t behind him anymore. It was too late. A few soldiers stepped in between the two of them. Grian tried to search for a way around his opponent, but two others stepped up to him and he needed to back away a few steps, to get out of their weapons‘ reach.
“Grian! Fuck! Don‘t you assholes dare touch him. If you so much as lay a finger on him, I‘m gonna rip you apart, limb by limb!”, Doc shouted from down the street, but going from how far away his voice sounded he had also been pushed back a bit. There was no way they could help each other like this.
Those soldiers must have planned to seperate them. He just hoped that Doc would do the smart thing and rush back to the ship, even if that meant leaving Grian alone here. The crew‘s support would be so important now.
Grian had been in a lot of battles before. Alot of those battles had not been in his favour and he’d still come out victorious. He’d seen more than his fair share of fights, for someone his age. But this? This felt different. He wasn’t wearing his uniform anymore. He wasn’t fighting with the law behind him anymore.
This wasn’t even their first fight against a navy crew, but Doc had always kept him on the back line when things like that happened. Grian was pretty sure he would have put him below deck if he thought Grian would go along with it. In the short fight earlier he had been able to knock his opponent out, but if he held back here, he‘d lose.
Grian‘s eyes  kept darting between his opponents, holding his sword protectively in front of himself, waiting for an attack or maybe an opening for him to get rid of one already. A fight against all of them at once would be impossible.
“You really have fallen far. Look at yourself…“, one of the officers said. Grian thought he recognized him from somewhere, but couldn‘t really pinpoint it, until… “Captain Sam was really sad to see you leave. You were such an entertaining guest.”
Grian froze for a second, hearing that name and realizing that the man in front of him was part of Sam‘s crew. That guy had been there when Sam had sold him out. Was Sam here as well? Grian felt his heart rate increase at the thought alone, his eyes darting around. 
The officer smirked at Grian‘s reaction and jumped forward. Grian raised his own sword just in time to block the attack, eyes wide, arm shaking a bit from the impact he hadn‘t been prepared to take.
“It was a good look on you, Grian, tied up, beaten and bleeding. It made me want to do bad things to you. You‘ve always been so high and mighty. Watching Sam break you… It was like a work of art. Such a pity someone managed to put the pieces back together. I liked you more when you were a little puppet”, his opponent whispered, voice too quiet for the others to hear. Grian tried to tune it all out. He knew those words were meant to distract him from the fight and he shouldn‘t let it get to him. It had been so long. He was better now. He was with Doc now. He was safe. Doc had promised to protect him, no matter what. He needed Doc. He needed to get to Doc.
The muscles in Grian‘s arm tensed and he let his sword strike, pushing his attacker stumbling back, right into one of the other guys. Grian turned his attention to the third soldier. He looked younger than the other two and his uniform was less decorated as well. Grian almost felt bad, but he knew he couldn‘t hold back… He really really shouldn‘t hold back.
His sword flew through the air, past the other blade and cutting deep into the soldier‘s shoulder. The young man screamed and dropped his sword and Grian jumped back again, before the others could attack. He was holding back. He could have - no - he should have gone for the neck. He could have killed him with one attack. But he had hesitated, repositioning his blade just a bit before it could hit.
Why was he risking his own life for someone who was ready to kill him without a second thought? He shouldn’t be hesitating. “I won’t die here today.”
The two soldiers glared at him, one rushing to their fallen comrade, pulling him back, away from Grian. That left only him and the guy from Sam’s ship.
“No you won’t die. The order is to take you alive. Operation Cursed Child will begin once you’re returned to the headquarters.”
Grian looked at his opponent in confusion, but didn’t get the time to ponder on what he had said for too long. A blade came flying his way. Their swords kept clashing together and Grian had to admit that his opponent was a skilled fighter, but he also knew that he was better. He would win. He could end this. He didn’t even need to kill. He wouldn’t have to harm a navy soldier. He could just disarm him. He had the upper hand. He only needed a little more time to- 
There was a loud scream. A loud and pain filled scream. Grian knew that voice, but he had never heard it like that. And when his eyes searched the entrance to their alley, he saw Doc fall to the floor, lying on the ground face first, a foot on his back, a blade at his neck.
Something snapped.
“Oh, looks like your little pirate is-”
His opponent never got to finish his sentence as Grian’s blade pierced right through his eyeball into his brain. Blood sprayed as he pulled it back out, but Grian didn’t care, rushing forward. The second soldier tried to block his way, but Grian stabbed him right through the abdomen, before kicking him off his sword to the ground.
Someone bent down to Doc, handcuffs ready and Grian screamed.
“Get your dirty hands off of my Captain!”
His shout made the soldier above Doc snap up again, scrambling for his sword, but he was too late. Grian’s blade was already cutting deep into his chest. Now Grian stood above Doc, sword raised, turning around slowly, surrounded by soldiers. He let out a low growl, glaring at each and every one of them.
“You hurt my Captain and I will kill you.”
Grian knew they were heavily outnumbered, even when Doc slowly got to his feet again, standing back to back with Grian. Still the soldiers didn‘t attack, watching them with wary eyes. Grian felt dread rise inside of him. They wouldn‘t make it out alive… No. He would. For whatever reason they still needed him. But Doc wouldn‘t. They‘d kill Doc. 
Images flashed in front of Grian‘s mind. Doc‘s head on a block, an axe raised above him, flying down and-
A warm touch on his hand snapped Grian out of his thoughts and he just now realised that he had been shaking. He didn‘t need to look down to know that the hand gently holding his was Doc‘s. It was funny how one small touch calmed Grian down so much and helped him focus again. One simple touch made him feel so safe and warm. Ever since Doc had saved him that first time, holding that hand made him feel like no harm would come to him. 
„Let‘s go out with a bang, love“, Doc said and his voice was so soft despite their current situation.
Grian just nodded and pressed Doc‘s hand with his own to show him the same support. Someone shouted an order from the back row. Grian let his hand slip out of Doc‘s grasp, but the feeling of safety stayed as he faced the fight.
They would lose. They would fall, but they would give those guys one hell of a fight. They wouldn‘t go down without taking some of their opponents along with them.
Everyone was waiting, all muscles tensed. People around them were looking at them curiously. Suddenly one of the soldiers surged forward and the spell seemed to be broken. Grian barely had time to move, blocking one attack after the other, sword always making it just in time. He didn‘t pay attention to the things happening behind him. He knew his back was as safe as it could be and it filled him with determination. If he could at least hold them long enough for Doc to get away. They didn‘t want to kill him and the way they fought showed just that. There was just a slight bit of hesitance in the attacks. He could use that to his advantage.
Grian pressed on further, giving even more, fighting harder, deflecting attacks and starting counter attacks. He managed to hit one of them across the face, drawing a loud almost inhuman yell as the soldier stepped back, but his place was already taken by another one.
He growled and kept fighting. He stopped attack after attack, but  then he heard a pained sound behind him. He shouldn’t turn around. He needed to stay focused. He heard a blade clattering to the floor, far too close for it to be one of the enemies. Grian turned his head just slightly, to see Doc go down to his knees, to the floor, holding one hand to his bleeding shoulder, a sword at his throat.
Grian screamed, a shout tearing from his throat that didn’t even sound human to his own ears. He hit the blade on Doc’s neck so hard, he sent it flying into the head of another soldier.
“Don’t. Ever. Touch. Him.”
Grian glared at them, looming over Doc. They seemed to hesitate for a second, but the attacks kept coming again. Grian was able to deflect them, but as more kept coming from the front, he left his back open and suddenly he was grabbed by the shoulders, sword slipping from his grasp, as he was pulled back. Grian struggled, digging his heels into the ground, as he was pulled away from Doc. 
Doc stared at him, trying to jump up, but suddenly there were hands on him as well, digging into his wound. Doc froze and it didn’t take long to chain his hands behind his back. Grian suddenly felt the anger leave him and fear settle in. He couldn’t lose Doc. He couldn’t. Not now when he had finally decided to stay by his side.
And then something else started to rise inside of Grian. Suddenly he felt a primal rage inside. He looked at Doc and ground his teeth. Those soldiers were taking what was his. He closed his eyes and felt it. The same feeling he had felt under the sea when the siren had dragged Doc down below. The same energy was running through him. And he knew when he would open his mouth now he’d hurt everyone who was able to hear him, soldier and civilian alike. He didn’t even know why he knew, he just did. Everyone would fall. Just not Doc. Never Doc. He had to save his mate.
He took a breath, opening his eyes. He could hear Doc gasp in shock. He must have noticed some change in Grian.
“Grian… Don’t!”
Grian opened his mouth.
A loud shot rang through the street, before one sound left him, startling Grian out of his trance like state. He blinked a few times, every trace of the energy gone again. He looked around in confusion, searching for the source of that sound. The shot had been far too loud to be a simple gun. And that‘s when he saw it. The sails of the Golden Goat behind the crowd of navy soldiers. There was a smoking hole in the ground a couple of metres from them, navy soldiers rushing away to pull injured people to safety.
“Back off or we will kill you all! No hesitation.“
Ren‘s voice was booming loud. People around them started panicking. There were screams and chaos. 
And then Grian could hear steps rushing towards them and when he looked over he saw Doc‘s crew charging in, False right there at the front of them, her eyes filled with fury and a promise of pain.
Someone was pulling at him, trying to take him away. Grian dug his heels into the ground, but soon another pair of arms grabbed him and he stumbled backwards. His eyes searched for Doc in the chaos. He felt a heavy weight lift off his chest, when he realised that False was already by his side, her bloody sword raised as some other crew member was taking the chains off of their captain.
He kept getting further and further away. They were trying to pull him to one of the alleys and out of sight.
Grian opened his mouth to scream, but as soon as he did that someone shoved a dirty rag in between his lips. Grian only renewed his struggles, managing to land a few kicks on the two people holding him, but they didn‘t ease their hold on him.
He looked at Doc in desperation, trying to alert him that Grian was taken away in the chaos and panic. And as if Doc had sensed his terror, his gaze snapped up, searching and finally landing on Grian. His eyes widened for a second and then he smiled relieved. With just that one smile Grian immediately felt safe again. He didn‘t even have to wonder what would happen next. Doc smiling like that meant there was no danger for Grian.
There was a loud thud and one of the bodies holding him crumbled to the floor. Grian looked over his shoulder, only to see Etho, smiling softly at him, before he put a knife through the other soldier’s back. The hands holding Grian disappeared along with the enemy falling to the ground.
“You alright, new guy?“
Grian nodded and raised his shaking hands to take the cloth from his mouth, throwing it to the ground in disgust. “Yeah. All good. Thanks. You can go and give your medical expertise to our captain now.“
Etho's eyes widened a bit and then he smiled even brighter. “I see, it‘s no longer just ‘your captain‘ now. Welcome to the crew, Grian.“
Grian rolled his eyes, following Etho over to Doc who was already unchained and arguing with False who had thrown him over her shoulder.
“I can walk on my own!”
“You are wounded.“
“On my fucking shoulder! My legs work perfectly fine!”
“Struggle and I will change that.”
Grian laughed a bit at False‘s deadpan voice, until her gaze turned to him. “Don‘t think I have forgotten that both of you idiots got yourself into that situation. If you so much as smirk, I will carry you as well, boy. I‘ve got two shoulders after all.”
Grian felt the urge to salute, but just nodded and tried his best not to smile. No one ever dared to argue with False when she took that tone, and Grian sure as hell wouldn‘t change that tradition.
They hurried to the ship and boarded, sails lowered the moment Etho in the back stepped aboard. None of them wanted to battle a navy ship, especially not now when their Captain was already injured.
“False. Carry Doc below deck“, Etho shouted over the busy deck and False nodded, leaving through the door already. Grian wanted to follow, but was stopped by Etho.
“Not you. I won’t let you get away without a check up this time. Do you have any injuries? Anything that needs my attention now?”
„Just sore. Maybe a few bruises“, Grian replied, „Worst thing happening to me is that I can‘t get rid of the taste of that darn dirty rag.“ 
Etho laughed, and after some fumbling around in his bag, pressed a flask into Grian‘s hand. “Here. That should help.“
Grian looked at Etho‘s retreating form, before taking one swig of the bottle. His throat burned and he scrunched up his face at the taste, deciding against taking even one more drop. But oh well… It had indeed replaced the rotten taste the rag had left in his mouth and any reminder of being almost kidnapped again.
~*~
Grian stood at the railing, watching the moon rise and the stars come out. He was alone at deck once more, having insisted on still doing his shift of the night watch. He wasn‘t really wounded. And he could use the peace and quiet to calm down.
A light wind was blowing, whipping around his hair. When had it gotten so long again? He pulled out one of the strings on his shirt and pulled his hair back, tying them together. It felt weird after all this time. Weird and freeing at the same time. As if a chapter of his life had ended.
There were steps behind him. Grian didn‘t have to turn around. The sound was all too familiar to him, even before he had joined this crew. All the other nights, he had stepped away. All of the previous nights, he had stopped things from progressing. He hadn‘t even waited for what had been to come. He had always walked away, the message pretty clear.
He waited.
The steps stopped behind him.
Grian turned around.
“Doc…”
Doc looked at him, hand raised, seemingly hesitating, clearly intending to put it on Grian‘s shoulder, but not daring to overstep any boundaries. So Grian took the step over that line. He moved forward and the hand  was on his shoulder. 
Doc‘s eyes widened for a second, but then he smiled softly.
“I was scared I‘d lose you again, Grian.”
“You were the one lying on the floor about to be taken to prison, you know.“
Doc chuckled softly. The hand moved from Grian‘s shoulder, giving him a small pat and then moving away again. Grian felt dissappointed at the sudden loss of contact.
“I know. You saved me, Grian.“
“I‘d do anything to keep you safe, Captain.“
“Say it again...”, Doc whispered, his eyes so close, Grian could see the way they sparkled, his gaze so soft.
“Captain”, Grian repeated just as quietly, feeling happiness at just uttering this single word. “My Captain.”
Doc breathed in shakily, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. And he was so close. So close. The moon was high up in the sky, illuminating Doc's face. Doc's arms were moving, but he stopped and Grian could see how he resisted the urge to hug him. Always treating him like glass... Even now.
Grian took a hold of Doc's arm before he could lower it again and put it on his waist.
Grian moved forward, a sudden need to touch - to feel Doc - rising inside him. When their chests touched a second hand wound around him, joining the first on his back.
Grian smiled. He did feel some underlying nervousness. He felt his heart racing. He felt a slight urge to step back out of the embrace again. But above all of it - overshadowing all the other emotions - he felt safe.
"Grian. You don't have to..."
"I'm not doing this because I have to. I'm doing this because I want to. I... I should have done it way sooner. We live a dangerous life. Any day could be our last. Today could have been your last day. We both survived too much to let our worries stop us." Grian felt his heart beating in his throat as Doc finally tightened the embrace, and in return Grian put his arms around the other.
"Grian..." Doc smiled so brightly that it made Grian's heart only beat faster. He really should have done this sooner. He should have let Doc close again. Doc who had saved him, who had always been there for him and never expecting anything in return.
"I love you."
Doc's eyes widened, his mouth dropping open, before he closed it again, smiling even brighter than Grian had ever seen him smile.
„I love you too, Grian.“
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wisteria-lodge · 4 years
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Character Analysis: Sorting The Old Guard
@sortinghatchats has a brilliant personality/character analysis system based on the four Hogwarts houses. At this point it’s become much more interesting and nuanced, which is part of why I’m moving away from using the names of the houses.
Here’s how it works. Everyone gets two houses – a Primary House and a Secondary House
YOUR PRIMARY IS YOUR MOTIVE. IT’S WHY YOU DO THINGS.
LION Primary’s sense of morality and ethics comes from inside. Things just feel right or they feel wrong.
BIRD Primary gets their morality and ethics from the world outside them. They decide what they think is right.
BADGER Primary is focused on the good of the group. Who cares if something is technically “moral” if people are getting hurt?
SNAKE Primary is a lot like Badger, but instead of protecting the group, their highest law is the well-being of the individual people they love.
YOUR SECONDARY IS YOUR METHOD. IT’S HOW YOU DO THINGS.
LION Secondary gets their power from being direct, honest, completely themselves. Their “plan” is just keep going until someone stops them. If they see a locked door, they kick it in.
BIRD Secondary collects tools and skills. They build things, find things, learn things. If they see a locked door, they go through their box of keys until they find the right one.
BADGER Secondary is fair, hardworking, and shows up. They’re good at getting people to trust them, and good at getting people to help them. If they see a locked door, they knock.
SNAKE Secondary knows the right mask to wear for each situation. They’re adaptive. They go in the back way. They find the third option.  They’re the ones who know how to pick the locks.
And now let’s talk about The Old Guard. Also, SPOILERS.
***
Nile Freeman is a bright Badger primary, defined by her groups. “I’ve got people who love me,” is the first thing she tells the team. And follows that up with, “I’m a Marine.” We meet her in uniform, part of a squad. Getting back to her family is her main motivation. (And it’s a “my family” thing - not a “my mom” or “my brother” thing.) Family continuity and family history mean everything to Nile, and that’s so Badger. Religion is also used as visual shorthand for “Badger” a lot, and Nile’s got her cross necklace. And she doesn’t want to kill people. Doesn’t matter if they’re the bad people who killed her, they’re still people. Badgers can’t ignore that.
Nile’s challenge is figuring out a way to separate from her family (and become an immortal commando) while still keeping her healthy, shining Badger intact. And she does it by expanding. It’s not just about protecting America and her family anymore. She looks at the wall outlining all the good the Old Guard has done, and her community expands to include them, and all of humanity.
She’s definitely got a Lion secondary. Yes, she’s willing to run into the villain’s stronghold with a bag of guns and not much plan - but this is an action movie, that stuff is kinda a given. I’m thinking more about when she has to lie and say her miraculous healing factor is an experimental skin graft – she hates doing it, she’s so bad at it, you can see her skin crawl. Nile is powerful when she is able to just lay out what she believes. People like Agent Copley and the Afghani women just feel the honesty and conviction bleeding off her, and come around to her way of thinking. 
Nile also has a Bird secondary model. Smashing down walls isn’t appropriate all the time, so a lot of Lion secondaries learn to use one of the mellower secondaries as backup. Nile’s Bird is subtle, but it’s there. She applies her anti-militant training to the situation, and thinks they should “follow the money.” She can identify a Rodin sculpture across a dark cave. And she spends a while trying to reason away the fact that she’s immortal (considering hypnosis, drug trips, all that fun stuff.)
Andromache the Scythian aka “Andy” is also a Badger primary. But a very old, very tired, very burnt one. She’s been protecting humanity for about ten thousand years, and she feels all the people she wasn’t able to save. Andy starts off the film doubting whether any of it mattered, if she was actually able to protect her community at all. Because she can’t protect everyone, she is forced to shrink that community down. She can protect Nile, Joe, Nicky, and Booker – and that has to be enough.
The situation with Quyhn is a good look at the sort of darkness that can live inside a Badger Primary. Because Andy stopped looking. She could have spent hundreds of years pouring money and time into finding Quyhn - and neglected the rest of her team, and by extension humanity. But Andy’s a Badger primary. That’s not a thing she can do.
(A Snake primary would never have stopped. Someone like Nicky would burn the world, if that’s what it took to get Joe back.)
If your preferred weapon is an ax or a hammer, then you’re a Lion secondary. That’s just how it works. You are too direct and too smashy to be anything else. Ms. “I always go first” Andy, leader of the group she thinks of as an army? Even when she’s discouraged and exhausted, her Lion secondary is still so loud. She has a bit of a Bird secondary model: she sets up rules like “we don’t do repeats, it’s too risky,” and establishes code words linked to specific maneuvers. But you can tell she’s a little uncomfortable with that kind of thinking. She wants to hit things with an ax and give inspirational speeches. And also threaten people.
Which means that Andy and Nile match perfectly. They are both Badger Lions with Bird secondary models. And that makes perfect sense. Nile was “born” at the same time Andy lost her immortality. They are both warriors. Nile is the one who will “go first,” when Andy isn’t able to anymore. She’s the one who gets Andy’s ax at the end. She’s the new Andy. Andy’s redemption comes with waking her Badger primary up, and training a replacement. Or as she puts it, “I think you showed up when I lost my immortality so I could remember what it was like (…) that there are people still worth fighting for.”
Nicolò di Genova aka “Nicky” fights for Joe. It really is that simple. His backstory tells you everything you need to know: he fought in the Crusades until he fell in love with a Muslim, and had to choose. On one hand - religion, country, job, society, security. On the other hand - the man he loves. For Nicky the answer is obvious. Because he is such a Snake primary.
As long as he’s with Joe, he’s fine. Agent Copley is trying to explain himself, Nicky doesn’t care. “I’m sure you’re bringing us to the person who paid for your betrayal. There’s a TV [on this plane] Joe!” The villains can talk all they want about the greater good and moral imperatives and changing the world. Nicky is just bored. “A fine justification. I’ve heard it so many times before.” None of that stuff matters to him.
His secondary is harder to spot, underneath the really loud primary and the really loud Lion secondary model. But I think I see a Badger secondary. Nicky’s a caretaker. He brings Andy her favorite candy, sets up Nile for the night and shows her where to sleep. Joe says that Nicky’s heart “overflows with a kindness of which this world is not worthy,” and I get that they’re in love, but that’s still some serious character testimony. I’m also going to throw in the fact that Nicky’s a sniper. Being a sniper is not like hitting things with an ax. It’s all about getting in place and being careful and patient. Badger secondary traits.
Yusuf Al-Kaysani aka “Joe” actually takes the time to lay out rules he lives by. Which is interesting, because the only other people in this film who do that are the villains. Those guys are not motivated by personal loyalty: they’re either Lion or Bird primaries motivated by “the greater good.” The Old Guard is a very Loyalist movie. When we get our big Theme Scene, the French shopgirl tells us, “Today I put this on your wound. Tomorrow you help someone up when they fall. We’re not meant to be alone.” That’s the ethos of the movie. It’s very Badger.
Joe gets how Badger Primaries work. He gets Andy, and the best example of this is when he comforts her by saying Quyhn “would be insane” by now. He’s basically saying, “you don’t have a responsibility to her the way you have to the rest of us, because she’s not really a person anymore.” It’s dark, but so is Andy, and that line of reasoning would make sense to a Badger primary.
Joe also understands Nicky’s Snake primary. He  knows he’s Nicky’s world, and he never stops demonstrating that. He has Nicky’s back when they fight (Nicky passes things over his shoulder without looking). He has Nicky’s back when they sleep (as the big spoon). He learned Italian for Nicky, and when Nicky is freaked, Joe just shows up with that “his kiss still thrills me, even after a millennia” speech. But that speech is also him explaining his worldview to the guards, the same way he bothers to tell them, “You shot Nicky. You shouldn’t have done that.”
When Nile asks, “Are you good guys or bad guys?” Joe responds, “Depends on the century.” He is interested in those large moral questions, and the answer he has decided on is a combination of Andy’s Badger morality, and Nicky’s Snake morality.
And to go with that really complicated Primary, I think Joe really is just a straightforward Lion secondary (another reason he gets Andy). I mean... he literally headbutts people. 
Sebastian “Booker” Le Livre, whose nickname is a very silly pun, is the most vaguely drawn character. I’m not sure if he turns Nicky and Joe over to Merrick because he wants to die, or because he wants to find a way to help Andy die. Or both. But either way, he is a very burnt Snake primary.
Booker seems to be the only one who kept up contact with his family after learning he was immortal. As a result, he got to watch his son die painfully with “hate and despair in [his] eyes,” blaming his father for not loving him enough to save him. It’s been about 150 years, but Booker is not over this.
That is a very Snake primary love, and when it comes down to it, Booker is a Snake with no people he can throw himself into loving the way he loved his son. (No wonder he drinks). He wants more emotional intimacy from Andy than she is able to give him - not in a romantic way, they have more of a sibling dynamic. But look at the betrayal in his eyes when he learns she’s lost her immortality: “Andy, look at me. Why didn’t you tell me?”
This is the exchange right after Booker betrays the team:
JOE: You selfish piece of shit. NICKY: Joe, leave it, please… BOOKER: What would you know of the weight of all these years alone? JOE: You’re a very pathetic man Booker. NICKY: Joe, stop. BOOKER: You and Nicky always had each other, right?
Nicky is sympathetic. He’s a Snake primary like Booker, he knows what living without a Person must be like, he knows exactly why Booker did what he did. Joe doesn’t. He only sees how Booker has failed to look at the big picture (like Joe would have, because he’s a Bird, that’s how he thinks) and that he made an objectively dumb call. Joe is angry at him for the rest of the movie. But the others, who know what it’s like motivated only by personal loyalty… they kind of get it.
To round things off, Booker is a Bird secondary. You can tell by the way he collects skills. He’s the operation coordinator, the quartermaster, the driver, and the tech guy. He’s also not afraid of a plan with steps. Nile calls him, “the brains of the operation” (although she’s probably being nice). Still, Booker is a good example of the way Bird secondaries aren’t always smart. His plan was pretty objectively terrible, but that was because his primary was so compromised.
tl;dr
Nile – Badger/Lion (Bird model)
Andy – Burnt Badger/Lion (Bird model)
Nicky – Snake/Badger (Lion model for fighting)
Joe – Bird who has built Nicky’s Snake morality, and Andy’s Badger morality into himself/Lion
Booker – Burnt Snake/Bird
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thyrosus · 3 years
Note
❰❰ CHIN ❱❱ sender tilts the receiver’s chin with their weapon (maybe pretend he's teaching her with lances or something idk man I slap a random weapon in her hand)
AH, SO SHE CAN PUT HER MIND TO THINGS.
Not that this knowledge does well to aid Lorenz in his plight: even the dull tip of a training lance can cause harm in the right hands. Inexperienced ones, not clumsy but suited for a different style of combat.
Mastery has its draws; Lorenz, too, strives for perfection in numerous skills, goals set higher and higher with each passing month. It is never good to sit idle, and even worse to be caught unawares, should a preferred weapon fail. It is an ethos he is at least trying to show Mitama the finer—
—the finer points of.
His first mistake was turning his back to an amateur with a lance in her hands. What transpired he cannot say: he’d stepped to the side as he guided her through beginner drills, as a buckle on his sling had caught in the coat of his uniform. Unfortunate, but things happen, and an annoyance easily rectified with nimble fingers before anything is torn.
Whether he’d signaled that intention to Mitama, he cannot say. She was smart, at least, to take momentary distraction as a chance to gain the upper hand in their light sparring.
Except for the wooden tip now dangerously close to his neck as he swallows.
The point of his own lance nudges it away, and a severe look erases the momentary panic that may have flashed in his gaze.
“—Your form is better than it was at the start. Next time, try to gain a proper point from me without trying to maim your instructor in the process!”
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kinetic-elaboration · 4 years
Text
February 13: Star Trek Beyond
Some attempted thoughts on Star Trek Beyond.
So first it was bad lol. It is the worst. I thought maybe it would be less the worst than I had previously thought but it really, really is just irredeemably bad.
Trying to keep up with what was actually happening and talk in the group chat was too difficult and I now feel very exhausted lol. And I’m not even sure what I watched.
I liked Jaylah a lot, including her back story, characterization, “house,” traps, and cool mirror tricks.
I also like Kirk in that emergency uniform with the jacket unzipped.
That’s it! That’s all I liked.
In the past I’ve also said I liked the Spock and Bones parts but I honestly wasn’t a fan of them either this time around!
None of the characters felt IC and none of the relationships felt true or were compelling. Which is particularly egregious given that the alleged theme was strength in unity.
The movie was especially lacking in K/S content or even K & S interaction, which obviously didn’t please me. And it’s definitely the worst Kirk characterization I’ve ever seen. There’s no excuse for that either because it’s halfway through the 5YM, which means he should be pretty close to TOS Kirk--yes, he has a different set of experiences, so there’s going to be some variation, but there’s comparatively less excuse for a radically different characterization than in STXI and STID. They should have had Shatner read the script and make notes lol because whatever else you might say about him he KNOWS Captain Kirk.
Like, he (Kirk) lacked humor and charm and, often, confidence. He had moments when he was very smart and moments when he had a commanding presence. But he had just as many moments when he was whiny or bored and his Captain’s log??? I deserve financial compensation for every time I’ve listened to that. Bored of space?? No, this man is bored when he’s stuck on Earth. He stagnates in desk jobs. He is an adventurer and explorer before he’s ANYTHING else; if you don’t get that, you don’t need to be writing Star Trek.
Also, as I have frequently complained, I’m tired of him having no internal conflict or emotional complexity past his father issues. First reboot movie: dealing with his dead father’s memory and his step-father’s abuse. Fine, that makes sense for how they set up the AU. Second reboot movie: entirely motivated by the need for Manly Vengeance upon the person who killed his father figure. And for this redundant story line (in many sense) we had to lose Pike? Third reboot movie: you’d think he’d finally be ready to move on to other conflicts but actually no this time he’s sad about his birthday and having a longer life span than his...you guessed it!! father!! Yet again.
What else has ever motivated him? Legitimate question.
The destruction of the Enterprise was truly horrific. Long, boring, unwarranted, and without any emotional punch. As if it were just any ship! No, she’s a character in her own right and she’s not to be sacrificed like that but please tell me again how Simon Pegg is a true fan who brought the franchise back to its roots?
B said he did like that they split up the crew into unusual units but I have mixed feelings about it. I don’t entirely disagree, but I don’t think they did a lot that was interesting with any of those separated units. Uhura and Sulu are a cool pair (but this would have been a good opportunity to include Sulu’s semi-canonical crush on Uhura but whatever... a different rant) and they almost did some interesting stuff with them. There were glimmers of a caper in that story line and times when I could tell they were straining especially hard to make Uhura, their Sole Female Main--now that they cut out Rand, Chapel, and even Carol Marcus--into something Feminist and Interesting. But it didn’t quite gel for me. Like, Uhura would be having almost interesting dialogue with the villain and holding her own...and then she loses track of her colleague and has to watch that person die, thus undercutting everything she just said about unity and seeming to prove the villain’s point. Is she competent or not?
Bones and Spock are a pair I care about and like but again I think their canonical relationship in TOS is more interesting than STB showed. I personally read them as like...reluctant best friends who originally just had one person in common, and then realized they also like each other too, but they’ll never really say it. They understand each other but pretend not to. They have fun with the barbs they throw at each other. They both deeply love Jim but in different ways. They enjoy their intellectual debates. (That’s one thing that was definitely missing from them here! The intellectual debates!) So again, there was something there but not enough.
And Kirk and Chekov just happened to land near each other; nothing was done with that relationship per se. They really aren’t people who have much of a relationship in TOS so there’s not a lot to work off of but then on the other hand there IS an opportunity to create something new. Maybe I’m being too harsh and too vague but it just didn’t gel for me. The only specific K and C moment I remember was that supremely un-funny joke about Kirk’s aim as he sets off the “wery large bomb.”
But like there are possibilities.. they’re both pretty horny and Chekov is a whiz kid and Kirk is also very smart and has always been smart... Like in other words people Chekov’s age don’t end up on the bridge crew, in either ‘verse, without the Captain’s say, so even though he’s TOS!Spock’s and AOS!Scotty’s protege, Kirk is important to his life. Something with that maybe??
I’m upset that Spock’s individual story line was about whether or not he should go off and make baby Vulcans because, again as I have complained many times before, that was a conflict he faced and resolved in ten minutes two movies ago, and it doesn’t make sense to me for him to bring it up again now just because the Ambassador is dead. Like... the Ambassador told him to stay in Starfleet!! “Ah, yes, I will honor him by doing precisely the opposite of what he wanted me to do.”
Also--if they had made his motivation different or gone into it more, I would have been more into it. Make it about New Vulcan! Say there’s news from New Vulcan that it’s not doing well. Or what if T’Pring got in contact with him? Or what if we used this as an excuse to bring in Sarek?
This is part of a larger point for me which is that STXI set up a really cool AU and STID tried to do something with it--a little hit or miss, but it tried--and instead of pushing even more at the AU and developing it more and doing more with it... STB just ignored it! Was that part of what Paramount was warning about with making it “not too Star Trek-y?” Was it SUPPOSED to be a movie you could watch without having seen the last two? If so they did succeed but like.. .why? They made the supremely ballsy move of blowing up a founding Federation planet two movies ago and now they’ve just forgotten about that and all the reverberations that would necessarily have?
But of course we got a call back to Kirk being a Beastie Boys fan so.... Guess it was Deep all along.
We all three agreed that the core story of this film was potentially interesting but could have been done as a 50-some minute episode of a TV series rather than a whole-ass 2 hour movie. First off, cutting or cutting down the action sequences would have shaved off half an hour easily.
I’m frustrated in large part because there are certain things that are interesting here. I do like the concept of the crew being pulled on to an alien planet by a ship of former Federation crew, from the early days of the Federation/deep space flight, who were presumed missing but are somehow still alive because they have turned into aliens/used alien tech to prolong life, and who have also captured other aliens, like Jaylah, for the main crew to interact with. All of that was cool.
I would even be okay with these old Federation crew being villains but I don’t think that’s necessary or even the most interesting take.
But...first of all, as my mom pointed out, Krall was basically Nero in his illogical motivations: feeling aggrieved because someone who couldn’t help him didn’t help him and then just maniacally wanting revenge. It made more sense to me with Nero in a way. Maybe that was because he was better characterized, maybe it was because his anger was more personal (the loss of his wife), maybe--probably--it was because he was angry at Spock and Spock had actually promised to help, so there was some kernel of logic in his sense of betrayal, even if it was out of proportion etc. Also, Nero’s mania was portrayed as mania--we were all supposed to recognize that the strength of his emotion was warranted but his logic was deeply flawed. I think we were supposed to think Krall had some kinda... real criticism of the Federation, but in fact he doesn’t! He’s wrong! So like if he’d been angry with the Federation for abandoning him but the narrative and the other characters explicitly recognize that he’s wrong--the Federation tried but he was just doing something very dangerous and he recognized that danger on signing on--that might have been more palatable to me.
I’m not sure I’m making sense here entirely or explaining myself as well as I could.
I just don’t entirely get Krall’s beef with the Federation. I don’t get that whole “being a soldier and having conflict makes you strong and having people you can rely on and connections and community makes you weak.” That seems pretty obviously false. It also doesn’t really seem, not that I’m an expert, but particularly in line with military ethos either.
BUT the idea that he had a life that was comfortable to him as a soldier and then the Federation comes in and forms Starfleet and says, actually, we’re going to pull back on the soldiering and up the diplomacy and the exploration and the science--yeah, I could see that. I DO think Starfleet is military but even if you must insist it’s not, it’s clearly based on and formed from the military, and it has certain military functions. So obviously the first people to join or be folded into Starfleet probably were more explicitly military.
So he’s one of those people. Now he’s supposed to be a scientist and a diplomat and an explorer and he doesn’t like that. He’s given this very prestigious and interesting mission and jumps at it. Starfleet warns him, you might go beyond where we can reach, we might not be able to help you. That’s fine. But then when his ship is stranded and he is lost, he gets angry--maybe somewhat irrationally, but understandably--why?? Why did the Federation do this to him? What was even the point? When he put himself in danger before, at least he knew why. But just flying around space for the hell of it, and this is the cost? So that’s what creates his anger.
I thin this could be tied into Kirk’s diplomacy at the beginning--if the scene were written to not be a comedy bit where Kirk looks like an incompetent buffoon and is completely disrespectful the whole time. He’s good at this job and we should say it. But we could emphasize that this IS a diplomatic mission often, just as often as it’s a military or scientific mission. Maybe we could include other bits of their missions, too, to play up the variety of things they do and roles they play.
Another thing I think could be interesting, going back to my point about Spock, Vulcan, and using the first two movies and expanding on the world building... what if Spock wanted to leave Starfleet for better, more well-defined reasons, and we used that? Paralleled the two? Connected the two?
Because I think Vulcan in the AOS verse is very interesting and the movies didn’t do nearly enough with it. First, we have the Romulans showing up way earlier, at least visibly: in TOS, no one knew what they looked like or their connection to Vulcans until Spock is in his late 30s. In AOS, it happens not long after he’s born. So he’s growing up probably with more anti-Vulcan racism floating around the Federation. THEN Vulcan is destroyed. Now it has nothing and it needs to rely on the rest of the Federation, which must be both humbling and frustrating to many Vulcans, on top of the extreme tragedy of losing everything. Most of their population, a lot of their history, their manufacturing, their scientific facilities, their resources, their animals, literally whatever else you can think of that a planet has--all gone. Now all of the survivors have lived some period on an alien planet, by definition, and they’re probably very dependent on the Federation not just to set up the new colony, but to replace all of the resources--natural and Vulcan-made--that they lost. And they’re a founding Federation member, Earth’s first contact. They’re especially important. And now they’re weak, and reliant on others.
So maybe Spock, early on, hears from New Vulcan and they’re not doing well. Maybe we hear from Sarek or T’Pring (...I’d just like to see reboot T’Pring). Maybe it’s not about, or just about, having children, but about being from an important and ancient family, and being seen as a hero for his part in the Narada mission, that makes him want to go and help rebuild their government (taking his mother’s place perhaps? she was on the High Council) or their scientific facilities, or the VSA, or their space travel capabilities--you know Vulcan had space ships of their own, outside of Federation ships. This would be the perfect place to showcase that tension between wanting to be independent--out of pride, out of fear, even--and needing help, because Vulcan could not survive without the Federation, probably less than 10 years out from the original planet’s destruction.
And then you feed it back into Krall.
So I could see like... well the tension, and then Krall comes in, and he's angry that the Federation "abandoned" him, but we actually explicitly address this. Maybe Spock gets to interact with him and say "I get it. You had a life and a mission and a purpose that was comfortable for you. Then the Federation came in and changed everything. A lot of my people are also feeling upset for similar reasons. But here's why actually you're wrong."
So anyway as you can see I’m smarter and more interesting than Simon Pegg.
I also hated, speaking of writers of this movie, the gay Sulu thing and HEAR ME OUT on this. It’s homophobic. His husband doesn’t have a name? Might not be his husband at all? Looks like he could be his nanny or his brother? As B said “at least grab his butt or something.” That was the most sanitized, no-homo depiction of a gay person I’ve ever seen. He’s gay (see, progressives and queers! gay! you like that right!) but DON’T WORRY STRAIGHTS--he’s in a monogamous relationship and has a child, he’ll show nothing but the most platonic physical affection with his male significant other, and the plot point will be so minuscule you’ll need a microscope to detect it. Also, we’ll throw in a no homo joke about two male characters not wanting to hug and we’ll make sure Kirk and Spock interact as little as possible, because we know they give off Big Queer Vibes every time they’re together.
Yes the last point is a little unfair but can you blame me for being angry about all the “look how hip to the times we are” back-patting that went on in 2016 when canonical bisexual Kirk is RIGHT THERE and we could have had ex-boyfriend Gary Mitchell instead of Unnamed Nanny??
Also Sulu is a hella random choice because again, like... he may not have had an s.o. in TOS but nor was there any indication he was gay. So it seems a LITTLE like they picked him because (1) his original actor is gay and gay people can’t play straight people duh so probably Sulu was Gay All Along I mean did you not get vibes???; and/or (2) asexual Asian stereotypes preclude giving Sulu any kind of love interest, male or female, that is actually... sexual, outright romantic, anything.
Anyway I can’t remember if I had any other thoughts, but I’ve said quite enough I think.
I miss Kirk so much... real Kirk... even my version of AOS Kirk who is probably not even characterized that well but at least I worked with love!!!
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writing-the-end · 4 years
Text
LoL Chapter 6- Of Guilds and Gems
Master Post
A Wizard Hermits tale (AU belongs to @theguardiansofredland )
Rejected and told to disband, the hermits can only lament their losses and try to figure out where to go from here. Luckily, a message gives them all they need to know.
---------------------------------------
The hermits sit at the canal’s wall, feet dangling over the slow moving water. Watching letters sail by, flags flutter in the wind, and waterfalls fill the ever-moving marsh. Most of the hermits can’t manage to touch their ice cream, their stomach sick just thinking about what happened. For once, Grian’s foolproof pick-me-up isn’t working. 
But ice cream always works. It’s how he got to know Mumbo, after saving him from a violent robbery. He remembers Mumbo’s alarmed expression as he simply wiped away the blood and asked what his favorite flavor was. When Etho failed his S-Class trials, it was ice cream that brought back a smile on the shadow ninja’s face. Grian was sure ice cream would ease the painful rejection they just received. 
The frozen treats are all melted by the time someone speaks up. Everyone expected to hear Xisuma, wise counseling from their substitute guildmaster, or an angry tirade from Doc. But it’s Zedaph who’s voice rises up. “I didn’t like his office. It had...a bad feeling in there. The feeling of death.” 
“Probably because of all his taxidermy animals, bro.” Iskall sighs, flopping onto his back and staring at the sky. Watching the white clouds move across the blue sky with one crystal eye. “Trust me, that was weird for everyone.” 
“No, beyond that. It wasn’t just the heads. It felt like everything in there was… was screaming. I don’t know, my shepherd magic just told me that all those souls were in agony or something.” Zedaph bites his lip. His magic was always so hard to describe. It was more than just a feeling. It was nauseating, overwhelming. 
“Maybe it was just the sound of all our souls being betrayed at once.” Jevin grumbles, playing with a ball of slime in his hand, movement lackluster and slow. 
“He had our crest.” Impulse’s voice is gruff, husky and low. Twenty something heads turn to face the member of team ZIT, but he doesn’t look up from the water. His fists clench, leather of his fingerless gloves rippling. “He had the crest of a murdered guild hung up on his wall like some trophy.” 
“Maybe it was in memory?” Stress whispers. “Or he had a friend who died in the massacre? As rude as that whole burning contract thing was, I don’t think he’s anything more than a jackass.” A ripple of agreement washes across the other hermits. Tango looks at his friends, and does his best to console them. They’re all thinking about their old guild, the only three survivors left to remember them. The only legal guild that wanted a shepherd mage and his talking animal abilities, a wizard that can summon hell magic and has fire for hair, and a sorcerer who only deals with destruction. 
Keralis’s eyes follow two wizards, walking by in dark grey robes, blue tassled belts denoting their position within a legal guild. Uniforms of notoriety, of power and presence. Respect, easily won as they just walk down the streets of Milliara.  “Maybe we can ask one of the Council guilds to help. Surely if they hear what we saw, they will want to help the people of Lairyon, no?” 
“Those pompous bastards?” Iskall snorts, leaning back to rest on his elbows. “They only care about their seat on the council and being the richest guild in Lairyon. If Gildara doesn’t pay up, they won’t do a damned thing.” The Council seats are filled by the six strongest guilds, and the elected magistrate. Unlike Dolios, they aren’t chosen. The guildmasters take up the seat, and they are picked solely based on their guild’s bylaws. Many are nobles, gaining even more power in law as well as class. The guilds are elite, licensed and powerful enough to sway not just the populace but the government as well.
Keralis whimpers, watching the two guildmembers walk by. They must be strong, well trained to be a member of a Council guild. And all that is being wasted, put on display by their guilds and waltzing around Milliara. When the entire nation needs them. 
“What about King Sor?” Stress breathes. “He has some say in the ruling of Lairyon. These are his people.”
“No one has heard anything from the king in years. Apart from his festival appearances and other civil duties, he just passes any law that appears on his throne.” Mumbo remembers the last time he saw King Sor. Just a few days before he attempted the exam for the Stoneforge guild- the last guild that would even think to take him. It was a joyous day of celebration, a festival of art and creativity- something he remembers King Sor used to love when he was but a prince. 
But when the king appeared at his promenade, there was a hint of fear in his eyes the entire time he spoke. As soon as he was done, he scrambled back to his royal advisor and let Magistrate Dolios return to his part of the speeches. There was no one in the government they could ask, no one they could think to turn to.
Etho nudges Xisuma on the shoulder. “There’s one person we could ask. What about your-” 
“No, absolutely not.” Xisuma stands, brushing off the dirt from his robes. “Come on gang, let’s get back to our home.” He glances over his shoulder, the hermits following his gaze to an arcane guard, just a few meters away and easily visible as the crowd breaks around him, like water splitting at a boulder in the stream.. “We need to get to work packing up.” 
Mumbo’s lip trembles. No, this can’t be happening. He finally has a guild, a place he feels he belongs. His magic may be weak, uncontrollable at best, but they don’t care. They just like having him around. Years of being denied entry into guild after guild, abandoned by his family as a failure, and turning to an illegal guild. And finding more than he ever had in the gilded halls of noble high life. All gone, taken from him again. But then he notices Xisuma wink from within the mask, as well as Grian’s sly grin on his face, and he realizes his mistake. 
“Whoa, what the hell?” A cacophony ripples down the street, people ducking out of the way and chagrining at the flying flame that banks and bows under the many flags and pennants. “Who is stupid enough to use a phoenix for a mail carrier?”
Grian gasps, bouncing into the sky with his wings unfolding. “Phoebe!” 
“Still needs a better name.” Doc grumbles, watching as the firebird lands on Grian’s arm. Feathers like tongues of flame ruffle, brushing up against Grian as she nuzzles against the wizard. His cheeks turn pink, but don’t burn. Her chirps are the sound of wood breaking and embers sizzling, but each hermit welcomes the sight of their unusual mail carrier. 
“I bet it’s TFC. He’s probably asking how things went.” Grian grimaces, letting Xisuma open the scroll strapped in an enchanted carrier. 
“Nope, actually. Wels is back,” A loud cheer follows the announcement. He’d been gone for months, on a solo mission in Alphasgard. The guild was starting to worry when he wasn’t responding to their correspondences. X peers at the letter, ignoring Grian as he digs into Xisuma’s backpack. Searching for charcoal to treat Phoebe. “He’s writing to… he wants us to come home as soon as possible.” 
Xisuma sighs, feeling the pressure of the entire guild peeking over his shoulder and clambering over him to see what the letter says. Impatient buggers, the lot of them. He tosses the paper for them all to see. Elegant handwriting, sharp as a blade and shiny as armor, pens out the message to them all- 
To my fellow hermits, 
Please come home IMMEDIATELY. TFC is scaring me- he’s not acting right. He spends all day pestering with one tiny crystal, he’s been acting irritated and irrational. Just yesterday he yelled at me for bringing him baklava. He loves my baklava! 
What is going on? Is there something I missed? 
                     -Wels, Paladin Wizard, sworn Knight of Lairyon
“Does he always have to sign it like it’s an official document?” Cub shrugs. 
“What does he mean, TFC isn’t acting right?” Mumbo bites his lip, brows knitting together. TFC never yells at anyone, he’s more of a father to Mumbo than his own ever was. 
“We missed Wels’s baklava!” Zedaph whines. The day just keeps getting worse and worse. 
“If it’s something that has Wels so worried, we should get back as soon as possible. Either way, there’s nothing for us here.” Xisuma rolls up the parchment, and the entire guild continues with a heightened pace to the western gate- the gate of determination. Set on getting back to the sea as fast as possible.
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newstfionline · 4 years
Text
Tuesday, November 24, 2020
OED Word of the Year expanded for ‘unprecedented’ 2020 (BBC) This year has seen so many seismic events that Oxford Dictionaries has expanded its word of the year to encompass several “Words of an Unprecedented Year”. Its words are chosen to reflect 2020’s “ethos, mood, or preoccupations”. They include bushfires, Covid-19, WFH, lockdown, circuit-breaker, support bubbles, keyworkers, furlough, Black Lives Matter and moonshot. Use of the word pandemic has increased by more than 57,000% this year. Casper Grathwohl, the president of Oxford Dictionaries, said: “I’ve never witnessed a year in language like the one we’ve just had. The Oxford team was identifying hundreds of significant new words and usages as the year unfolded, dozens of which would have been a slam dunk for Word of the Year at any other time. “It’s both unprecedented and a little ironic—in a year that left us speechless, 2020 has been filled with new words unlike any other.”
Jury duty? No thanks, say many, forcing trials to be delayed (AP) Jury duty notices have set Nicholas Philbrook’s home on edge with worries about him contracting the coronavirus and passing it on to his father-in-law, a cancer survivor with diabetes in his mid-70s who is at higher risk of developing serious complications from COVID-19. People across the country have similar concerns amid resurgences of the coronavirus, a fact that has derailed plans to resume jury trials in many courthouses for the first time since the pandemic started. Within the past month, courts in Hartford, Connecticut, San Diego and Norfolk, Virginia, have had to delay jury selection for trials because too few people responded to jury duty summonses. The non-response rates are much higher now than they were before the pandemic, court officials say. Judges in New York City, Indiana, Colorado and Missouri declared mistrials recently because people connected to the trials either tested positive for the virus or had symptoms. “What the real question boils down to are people willing to show up to that court and sit in a jury trial? said Bill Raftery, a senior analyst with the National Center for State Courts. “Many courts have been responsive to jurors who have said that they’re not comfortable with coming to court and doing jury duty and therefore offering deferrals simply because of concerns over COVID.”
The next few months could be rough for the U.S. economy (NYT) The next few months have the potential to be very unpleasant for the American economy. Many states are reimposing coronavirus restrictions, which will likely lead to new reductions in consumer spending and worker layoffs. As Jerome Powell, the Federal Reserve chairman, recently said, “We’ve got new cases at a record level, we’ve seen a number of states begin to reimpose limited activity restrictions, and people may lose confidence that it is safe to go out.” Adding to the economic risks, several of the government’s biggest virus rescue programs are scheduled to expire next month. It isn’t clear whether Congress will renew them, because congressional Democrats and Republicans disagree on how to do so. A lack of government support, Powell has said, may lead to “tragic” results with “unnecessary hardship.” The longer-term picture is more encouraging, though. There is reason to hope that the next economic recovery, whenever it comes, will be stronger than the frustratingly weak recovery after the 2007-2009 financial crisis. “It’s a good guess that we’ll get this pandemic under control at some point next year,” writes Paul Krugman, the Times columnist (and Nobel Prize-winning economist). “It’s also a good bet that when we do, the economy will come roaring back.”
Student loan repayments (WSJ) The U.S. government stands to lose more than $400 billion from the federal student loan program, an internal analysis shows, approaching the size of losses incurred by banks during the subprime-mortgage crisis. The Education Department, with the help of two private consultants, looked at $1.37 trillion in student loans held by the government at the start of the year. Their conclusion: Borrowers will pay back $935 billion in principal and interest. That would leave taxpayers on the hook for $435 billion, according to documents reviewed by The Wall Street Journal. The analysis was based on government accounting standards and didn’t include roughly $150 billion in loans originated by private lenders and backed by the government.
Brazil’s local elections (Worldcrunch) Brazilian local elections can be fun to watch. Candidates come from every walk of life, and are notably allowed to use nicknames on the campaign trail—and there have been some true gems over the years: a loud man with thick sideburns and bushy hair campaigned as “Geraldo Wolverine”; an elderly man in army uniform and full beard was “Bin Laden for Governor”; and we’ve also seen a tropical, chubby Spiderman, an old Robin, and Jesuses in various shapes and sizes. Earlier this month, as Brazilians headed to the polls to elect local leaders in the country’s major states and cities—including Sao Paulo and Rio de Janeiro—there were exactly 78 candidates who chose to run as some form of “Bolsonaro,” and even one as “Donald Trump Bolsonaro.” Results are in and 77 of them failed to get elected, including the president’s ex-wife, who campaigned as Rogéria Bolsonaro. The Brazilian leader personally chimed in on his social media accounts to endorse the 59 candidates (with and without familiar nicknames) he favored—only nine of whom got elected, according to Estadão de S. Paulo daily. Centrist and moderate parties made gains in the local contests, which also came at the expense of the other massive political force in the country, the leftist Workers’ Party.
Reporter Gatecrashes EU Defence Chiefs’ Video Call After Login Details Posted on Twitter (Vice) A Dutch journalist managed to join a video call for EU defence ministers, much to his and everybody else’s surprise. Video posted on Twitter shows Daniël Verlaan, a technology reporter for broadcaster RTL Nieuws, in disbelief as he realises he’s actually managed to jump on the call. RTL said that Verlaan was only able to do so because of information tweeted by Dutch defence minister Ank Bijleveld, including a photo (since deleted) showing five digits of a six-digit PIN needed to join the call. Defence ministers representing EU members and foreign policy chief Josep Borrell were on the call. When Verlaan joins, Borrell asks, “Who are you?” After exchanging pleasantries, and as laughter is heard in the background, Borrell asks the reporter if he knew he was “jumping into a secret conference.” “Yes, I’m sorry, I’m a journalist from the Netherlands,” Verlaan says. “I’m sorry for interrupting your conference, I’ll be leaving here.” A spokesperson for the Dutch ministry of defence told RTL a staff member had accidentally tweeted the picture containing information that allowed Verlaan to join the call. “This shows once again that ministers need to realise how careful you have to be with Twitter,” said Dutch Prime Minister Mark Rutte.
France’s Dragnet for Extremists Sweeps Up Some Schoolchildren, Too (NYT) Armed with assault rifles and wearing balaclavas, dozens of police officers raided four apartments recently in a sprawling complex in Albertville, a city in the French Alps. They confiscated computers and cellphones, searched under mattresses and inside drawers, and took photos of books and wall ornaments with Quranic verses. Before the stunned families, the officers escorted away four suspects for “defending terrorism.” “That’s impossible,” Aysegul Polat recalled telling an officer who left with her son. “This child is 10 years old.” Her son—along with two other boys and one girl, all 10 years old—was accused of defending terrorism in a classroom discussion on the freedom of expression at a local public school. Officers held the children in custody for about 10 hours at police stations while interrogating their parents about the families’ religious practices and the recent republication of the caricatures of the Prophet Muhammad in the magazine Charlie Hebdo. The fifth-grade classmates are among at least 14 children and teenagers investigated by the police in recent weeks on accusations of making inappropriate comments during a commemoration for a teacher who was beheaded last month after showing the cartoons in a class on freedom of expression. As France grapples with a wave of Islamist attacks following the republication of the Charlie Hebdo caricatures, the case in Albertville and similar ones elsewhere have again raised questions about the nature of the government’s response.
France’s Sarkozy goes on trial for corruption (Reuters) Former French president Nicolas Sarkozy goes on trial on Monday accused of trying to bribe a judge and of influence-peddling, one of several criminal investigations that threaten to cast an ignominious pall over his decades-long political career. Prosecutors allege Sarkozy offered to secure a plum job in Monaco for judge Gilbert Azibert in return for confidential information about an inquiry into claims that Sarkozy had accepted illegal payments from L’Oreal heiress Liliane Bettencourt for his 2007 presidential campaign. Sarkozy, who led France from 2007-2012 and has remained influential among conservatives, has denied any wrongdoing in all the investigations against him and fought vigorously to have the cases dismissed. Next March, Sarkozy is due in court on accusations of violating campaign financing rules during his failed 2012 re-election bid. Next March, Sarkozy is due in court on accusations of violating campaign financing rules during his failed 2012 re-election bid.
Merkel, Germany’s ‘eternal’ chancellor, marks 15 years in power (AFP) In power so long she has been dubbed Germany’s “eternal chancellor”, Angela Merkel marks 15 years at the helm of Europe’s top economic power Sunday with her popularity and public trust scaling new heights as her remaining time in office ticks down. With the coronavirus raging around the world, the pandemic has played to her strengths as a crisis manager with a head for science-based solutions. Merkel, 66, has said she will step down as chancellor when her current mandate runs out in 2021, and leave politics altogether. Assuming she finishes out her fourth term, she will tie Helmut Kohl’s longevity record for a post-war leader, with an entire generation of young Germans never knowing another person at the top. The brainy, pragmatic and unflappable Merkel has served for many in recent years as a welcome counter-balance to the big, brash men of global politics, from Donald Trump to Vladimir Putin, as liberals have looked to her as the “leader of the free world”. A Pew Research Center poll last month showed large majorities in most Western countries having “confidence in Merkel to do the right thing regarding world affairs”.
China tests millions after coronavirus flare-ups in 3 cities (AP) Chinese authorities are testing millions of people, imposing lockdowns and shutting down schools after multiple locally transmitted coronavirus cases were discovered in three cities across the country last week. As temperatures drop, large-scale measures are being enacted in the cities of Tianjin, Shanghai and Manzhouli, despite the low number of new cases compared to the United States and other countries that are seeing new waves of infections. On Monday, the National Health Commission reported two new locally transmitted cases in Shanghai over the last 24 hours, bringing the total to seven since Friday. China has recorded 86,442 total cases and 4,634 deaths since the virus was first detected in the central Chinese city of Wuhan late last year.
Singapore, a City of Skyscrapers and Little Land, Turns to Farming (WSJ) In this skyscraper-studded nation of nearly six million people, all the farmland combined adds up to about 500 acres—an area roughly the size of a single American farm. That explains why more than 90% of the city-state’s food comes from abroad, a feat of globalization that plays out every day as beef is brought from New Zealand, eggs from Poland and vegetables trucked in from Malaysia. But recent developments—from Covid-19-related border closures to international trade fights—have shown that near-total dependence on the outside world may not be the best strategy in a shifting global environment. The Asian financial hub long focused on growing investment is turning to growing food. It can’t be done the traditional way, however. Land is so scarce in Singapore that the government continually reclaims territory from the sea to build new urban infrastructure. Instead, businesses are trying to reinvent agriculture. Industrial buildings are being converted into vertical farms with climate-controlled grow rooms. Rows of lettuce and kale are nourished not by soil, but via automated drips of nutrient-infused water. LED lights substitute for the sun. The government’s goal is to have 30% of the island’s nutritional requirements produced in Singapore by 2030, up from less than 10% today. Earlier this year, it shipped 400,000 seed packets to households to encourage home cultivation of leafy greens, cucumbers and tomatoes. In September, it announced about $40 million in grants to expand high-tech farms.
Reports: Israeli PM flew to Saudi Arabia, met crown prince (AP) Israeli media reported Monday that Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu flew to Saudi Arabia for a clandestine meeting with Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, which would mark the first known encounter between senior Israeli and Saudi officials. Hebrew-language media cited an unnamed Israeli official as saying that Netanyahu and Yossi Cohen, head of Israel’s Mossad spy agency, flew to the Saudi city of Neom on Sunday, where they met with the crown prince. The prince was there for talks with visiting U.S. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo. A Gulfstream IV private jet took off just after 1740 GMT from Ben-Gurion International Airport near Tel Aviv, according to data from website FlightRadar24.com. The flight traveled south along the eastern edge of the Sinai Peninsula before turning toward Neom and landing just after 1830 GMT, according to the data. The flight took off from Neom around 2150 GMT and followed the same route back to Tel Aviv. While Bahrain, Sudan and the United Arab Emirates have reached deals under the Trump administration to normalize ties with Israel, Saudi Arabia so far has remained out of reach.
Cyclone Gati hits Somalia as country’s strongest storm on record (Washington Post) Tropical Cyclone Gati struck the arid nation of Somalia on Sunday as the equivalent of a Category 2 hurricane with 105 mph winds, making it the strongest storm on record to hit the country. The cyclone made landfall after undergoing an extraordinary period of rapid intensification, which may have set a record for the entire Indian Ocean basin, at one point attaining the strength equivalent to a Category 3 storm, with 115 mph maximum sustained winds. Its landfall was farther south than any major hurricane-equivalent cyclone on record in that part of the world as well. Landfall occurred near Xaafuun, a small community about 900 miles northeast of Mogadishu, where the land juts east near the northern tip of the country. Hordio and Ashira, both desert communities, were also directly affected by the core of the storm. A broad four to eight inches of rainfall accompanied the system through northern Somalia, the driest part of the country, drenching desert regions with a year or two’s worth of rainfall in just a matter of hours to a couple of days. Rains also swept through the Gulf of Aden and brushed up against Yemen.
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aion-rsa · 4 years
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Riverdale Season 5 Episode 2 Review – Chapter 78: The Preppy Murders
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This RIVERDALE review contains spoilers.
Riverdale Season 5 Episode 2
“So now we have a preppy murderer on the loose…”
The most valid criticism about Riverdale over the course of its now five seasons is how the series constantly drags out its ongoing mysteries, only to frantically race to wrap them up. Due to the pandemic, what was initially intended as last season’s big resolution episode just played out before our eyes and it was….kind of meh?
Let’s examine the wrapping up of these various plots from most to least successful, shall we?
As I speculated in last week’s wrap-up, Jellybean was revealed to be the Auteur (with an assist from her friends). This is actually oddly sweet, as the Jughead/Jellybean relationship hasn’t been heavily explored in this show. There is much dramatic mileage to be mined from the fact that these siblings have been separated for most of their lives and when they are finally reunited it is against the backdrop of everything from murderous games of Dungeons and Dragons knock offs to my personal favorite, the town’s Maple Syrup Blood Feud. Sure, the argument can be made here that Jellybean’s lack of realization of how hurtful these demented videos are is straight up psychotic — she definitely seems to be more on the road to becoming a serial killer here than Betty. Yet there is a pure motive behind them, that of a sister who wants to keep her cool brother around that is actually touching.
That said, there are contrivances aplenty to be had with this denouement. Primarily, why would she recreate Archie’s confrontation with the Black Hood? Correct me if I’m wrong, but there wasn’t actually security footage of this incident, therefore Jellybean and her friends couldn’t have staged such a dramatic recreation. Plus, Veronica works at the Chok’lit Shoppe non-stop, so surely she and/or Pop Tate would have mentioned to Archie that a bunch of kids were recreating his worst trauma. With Riverdale, a deluxe cheesburger-sized suspension of disbelief is the order of the day. But this is pushing it.
The second most interesting storyline that played out here unsurprisingly involves Cheryl. From her horror that the graduation uniforms aren’t crimson to her touching scenes with Toni, the character continues to explode energy whenever she appears. There is something hilarious about her utter indifference to her mother poisoning most of her family that makes her all the more endearing. It’s going to be fascinating to watch her attempt to redeem the Blossom family name. But if anyone can do it, Cheryl can.
Next up comes the not-shocking-at-all reveal that Charles is not the stand-up guy we are supposed to think he was. Remember, this was teased early in the fourth season when we saw him lovey dovey with Chic during a prison visit. Since then it’s been a lot of wheel-spinning and I have to admit that I was surprised that he was actually an FBI agent at all given how much subterfuge is always going on within the Riverdale town limits.
This episode introduced the subplot that Jughead’s former Stonewall Prep classmates were being murdered, raising the gigantic question of who cares? Charles believes his motives behind the killings are born of nobility. Narratively speaking, he’s not much of a serial killer though. In fact, Hermosa cold-bloodedly executes more people than he did in this very episode.
It’s another example of Riverdale trying to stick the landing but instead coming down on its knees. If the preppy murders were happening for weeks, somehow piggybacking off of the mayhem the Auteur was creating this all would have been much more effective.
Circling back to Hermosa for a second. Mishel Prada continues to deliver a delightfully cold performance as Veronica’s sister, here tonight helping to mastermind yet another takedown of Hiram Lodge. Maybe this one will stick, as the final episode of Katy Keene showed a future version of Hiram who has taken up residence in New York City, seemingly focused on smaller scale intimidation that his usual Riverdale antics. At this point the pendulum has swung so far back and forth on the character that it’s hard to feel any concern about him either way. With any luck we will see a new iteration of the character following the series’ impending time jump. Otherwise it’s just business as usual for Hiram, and that is beyond stale.
All of this brings us to Archie. Typically this poor kid’s storyline is the least interesting of the lot. It’s a nice touch to show how Fred’s death is at the core of his ongoing ennui, and K.J. Apa is at his best when he shows Archie spiraling. Yet there was never a doubt that Archie wouldn’t write the letter asking the judge for leniency towards the kid who caused Fred’s death. At his heart, Archie is a good kid, and he would have down the right thing without having to involve the problematic Uncle Frank.
Next week: Graduation time, and a glimpse at Riverdale’s future.
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Riverdale Rundown
• Mary offers Archie some “camo-mile” tea. Whether or not this pronunciation is an actor’s choice or yet another of Riverdale‘s goofy fake productions remains a mystery that even Betty and Jughead couldn’t solve.
• Kevin and Reggie do not appear in this episode. And that is not okay.
• Farewell weirdo Blossoms, we hardly knew — and definitely didn’t care about — ye.
• Hermione announces her plans to divorce Hiram and, hilariously, become a cast member on The Real Housewives of New York City in this episode. This development was originally written when Marisol Nichols was planning on leaving Riverdale, however she will in fact be back after the upcoming (and heavily publicized so its not exactly a spoiler) time jump.
• I straight up Haw Haw-ed at Charles’ economy brand adoption of Dexter‘s serial killing ethos.
• I know there just wasn’t time to show Alice’s reaction to finding out about Charles due to everything else that was happening in this episode, but I would have much rather seen that subplot play out on screen instead of more Archie angst.
• Dramatically it would have been really involving to have Archie confront Jellybean about how utterly fucked up her actions towards him were. Furthermore, her accomplices were kids Archie helped at his community center. There is some real narrative meat to be chewed on there, and hopefully we will see this mentioned in next week’s episode.
• Real talk though, Jellybean and her friends should definitely pursue Hollywood careers. Their skills are legitimate.
• “Are you kidding me Betty, what isn’t wrong?” It’s always so jarring when Archie shows some self-awareness, isn’t it?
• Next week’s episode apparently will focus on the gang’s final days at Riverdale High. Even though school is a massive part of Archie comics, it always feels super weird when the series focuses on it given how heightened the Riverdale reality is.
The post Riverdale Season 5 Episode 2 Review – Chapter 78: The Preppy Murders appeared first on Den of Geek.
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anythingmaddow · 4 years
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IN UNION THERE IS STRENGTH
“I have watched this week’s unfolding events, angry and appalled,” Mattis writes. “The words ‘Equal Justice Under Law’ are carved in the pediment of the United States Supreme Court. This is precisely what protesters are rightly demanding. It is a wholesome and unifying demand—one that all of us should be able to get behind. We must not be distracted by a small number of lawbreakers. The protests are defined by tens of thousands of people of conscience who are insisting that we live up to our values—our values as people and our values as a nation.” He goes on, “We must reject and hold accountable those in office who would make a mockery of our Constitution.”
“In his j’accuse, Mattis excoriates the president for setting Americans against one another.
“Donald Trump is the first president in my lifetime who does not try to unite the American people—does not even pretend to try. Instead, he tries to divide us,” Mattis writes. “We are witnessing the consequences of three years of this deliberate effort. We are witnessing the consequences of three years without mature leadership. We can unite without him, drawing on the strengths inherent in our civil society. This will not be easy, as the past few days have shown, but we owe it to our fellow citizens; to past generations that bled to defend our promise; and to our children.”
“He goes on to contrast the American ethos of unity with Nazi ideology. “Instructions given by the military departments to our troops before the Normandy invasion reminded soldiers that ‘The Nazi slogan for destroying us … was “Divide and Conquer.” Our American answer is “In Union there is Strength.”’ We must summon that unity to surmount this crisis—confident that we are better than our politics.”
“Mattis reached the conclusion this past weekend that the American experiment is directly threatened by the actions of the president he once served. In his statement, Mattis makes it clear that the president’s response to the police killing of George Floyd, and the ensuing protests, triggered this public condemnation.”
“When I joined the military, some 50 years ago,” he writes, “I swore an oath to support and defend the Constitution. Never did I dream that troops taking that same oath would be ordered under any circumstance to violate the Constitutional rights of their fellow citizens—much less to provide a bizarre photo op for the elected commander-in-chief, with military leadership standing alongside.”
“He goes on to implicitly criticize the current secretary of defense, Mark Esper, and other senior officials as well. “We must reject any thinking of our cities as a ‘battlespace’ that our uniformed military is called upon to ‘dominate.’ At home, we should use our military only when requested to do so, on very rare occasions, by state governors. Militarizing our response, as we witnessed in Washington, D.C., sets up a conflict—a false conflict—between the military and civilian society. It erodes the moral ground that ensures a trusted bond between men and women in uniform and the society they are sworn to protect, and of which they themselves are a part. Keeping public order rests with civilian state and local leaders who best understand their communities and are answerable to them.”
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anniekoh · 6 years
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betraying big brother
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Leta Hong Fincher’s book Betraying Big Brother: The Feminist Awakening in China is a fascinating introduction to China today -- politics, media, culture -- through the feminist activists trying to change politics, media and culture.
On the eve of International Women’s Day in 2015, the Chinese government arrested five feminist activists and jailed them for thirty-seven days. The Feminist Five became a global cause célèbre, with Hillary Clinton speaking out on their behalf and activists inundating social media with #FreetheFive messages. But the Five are only symbols of a much larger feminist movement of civil rights lawyers, labor activists, performance artists, and online warriors prompting an unprecedented awakening among China’s educated, urban women. In Betraying Big Brother, journalist and scholar Leta Hong Fincher argues that the popular, broad-based movement poses the greatest challenge to China’s authoritarian regime today. Through interviews with the Feminist Five and other leading Chinese activists, Hong Fincher illuminates both the difficulties they face and their “joy of betraying Big Brother,” as one of the Feminist Five wrote of the defiance she felt during her detention. Tracing the rise of a new feminist consciousness now finding expression through the #MeToo movement, and describing how the Communist regime has suppressed the history of its own feminist struggles, Betraying Big Brother is a story of how the movement against patriarchy could reconfigure China and the world.
Given how little the U.S. media reports on China, the book covered new-to-me flashpoints such as the Guangzhou Sanitation Strike, 
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[Image source: Around 200 sanitation workers in Guangzhou’s Liwan district scuffle with police during a strike over low pay on 10 January 2013]
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[Image source & caption: As basic services get privatized, there's a rising tide of sanitation worker strikes in the Pearl River Delta. But this one was unusual: the striking workers are mostly former villagers, displaced from their homes here a decade ago when the university "Mega Center" took over the island. Photo: Zheng Churan.]
132: In May 2017, Chinese authorities detained another three labor activists who were investigating working conditions at shoe factories in southern and eastern China owned by Huajian International, which made shoes for the brand of Ivanka Trump, daughter of (and advisor to) US president Donald Trump. The three labor activists were held at a detention center in Ganzhou, Jiangxi Province, until the end of June, then released on bail pending a trial. Several workers from the Ganzhou factory reported long hours stretching past midnight, low pay, and verbal abuse. One worker said that an angry manager had hit him in the head with the sharp end of a high-heeled shoe, causing his head to bleed, according to the Associated Press. Ivanka Trump and her company repeatedly declined to comment.
Despite the extremely repressive environment, labor protests and strikes continue, with women workers increasingly on the front lines. In March 2018, around a thousand factory workers—70 percent of whom were women—went on strike at the Simone luxury handbag plant in Guangzhou to demand back payment of their social insurance contributions. The South Korean firm Simone Accessories is one of the biggest manufacturers for global designer brands, including Michael Kors, Marc Jacobs and Coach, with locations in countries such as China, Cambodia and Vietnam. Simone Accessories began moving operations from its Guangzhou factory to cheaper locations in 2017, and the Guangzhou workers worried that they might never receive their long-overdue social insurance and housing fund benefits. The largely women workers went on strike, and after nine days of collective bargaining, reached an agreement with management over their demands.
Zheng Churan of the Feminist Five has linked her feminist activism with a deep concern for labor rights and working-class women ever since she was a student at the prestigious Sun Yat-sen University in Guangzhou. In August 2014, she went almost daily to take photographs and hand out protest stickers to the striking University Town sanitation workers. Their strike attracted a lot of media attention, but Zheng says reporters were only taking pictures of the male workers, even though 80 percent of the sanitation workers were women: “Why weren’t the women workers being shown? I decided I had to take my own pictures of the women, and we also handed out stickers to the women workers to express their demands and stick them on their faces and clothes. It was all very visual.” She posted an online photo essay with the title, “These Are Women with Strength and Power.”
One of Zheng’s photos showed a woman worker smiling at the camera, with a sticker across her forehead that said, “Guangdian Property, Stop Doing Evil.” In another photo, a woman worker had her fist raised, with a sticker on her cheek that said, “Pay Me for My Labor.” Another showed six uniformed women workers huddled together, laughing as they reached out their hands to do a team cheer, their faces covered with stickers saying things like, “She Gave Nine Years of Blood and Sweat/You Used Her Then Threw Her Away.” A male co-worker stood beside the women, cheering them on.
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[Li Maizi (left) takes part in a 2012 protest against domestic violence in Beijing. Photo courtesy of Media Monitor for Women Network. Via Dissent Mag]
In Chapter 7, China’s Patriarchal Authoritarianism, Hong Fincher zooms out to the political context of how patriarchy and authoritarianism are being revised for 21st century China. 136: The threat from feminist activists was perceived to be so dire that in May 2017, the People’s Daily online—the official mouthpiece of the Party—published an announcement from the vice president of the All-China Women’s Federation warning that “Western hostile forces” were using “Western feminism” and the notion of “putting feminism above all else” to attack China’s Marxist views on women and the country’s “basic policies on gender equality.” “Some are using the banner of ‘rights defense,’ ‘poverty alleviation’ and ‘charity’ to directly meddle in our country’s women’s affairs, attempting to look for weaknesses and make a breach in the field of women’s issues,” Song Xiuyan warned. 
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The collection Women and Confucian Cultures in Premodern China, Korea and Japan illuminates how premodern rulers deliberately used Confucian discourse to prescribe models of feminine behavior that would consolidate their hold on power.... In one of the volume’s essays, “Competing Claims on Womanly Virtue in Late Imperial China,” Fangqin Du and Susan Mann write that during the Yuan Dynasty (roughly 1279 to 1368), the government explicitly promoted a neo-Confucian model of family and womanly virtue as its official ideology, which was essential to its statecraft. Yuan rulers followed an early classical text, The Great Learning, which taught that “regulating the family was the first step in administering the state.”  ... It is striking how much recent Communist Party propaganda preaching “family values” harkens back to the Confucian discourse from the imperial era on womanly virtues.
This reminds me of how womanhood and nationalism were mobilized in 20th century Korea, before colonization, during annexation, and after liberation. I’m curious how things have evolved in North Korea.
In March 2017, just as Weibo was imposing a month-long ban on the Feminist Voices social media account and erasing feminist essays posted on WeChat, Xinhua ran an article (picked up by media outlets across China) entitled, “A Review of President Xi’s Greetings to Women over Five Years,” accompanied by photos of adoring female delegates smiling at him and applauding. “President Xi in many of his keynote speeches addressed the dialectical relationship between national development and family construction, showing the Communist Party Central Committee’s great concern on women and family work,” Xinhua reported. “Women play an active role in nurturing traditional family values … Virtues are precious treasures for the promotion of family harmony, social stability and the well-being of the next generation,” Xi was quoted as saying. At no point did the Xinhua article mention the critical importance of working women to China’s long-term economic growth. Rather, it focused entirely on how much Xi emphasized women’s obligations within the family—in particular, taking care of children and the elderly. “Women should take responsibility for youngsters’ education; boost the traditional positive virtues of the Chinese nation; and, contribute to the social ethos,” Xi was quoted as saying.  144: In March 2018, the All-China Women’s Federation in Zhenjiang, Jiangsu Province, started a series of courses for “New Era Women” (for Xi Jinping’s “New Era”) to “raise the quality” (tigao suzhi) of young women by teaching them how to cross their legs, sit, kneel, apply make-up and decorate the home like proper ladies, according to “traditional culture.” These government-sponsored schools are disturbingly similar to the unofficial women’s “morality schools” appearing in recent years, which teach women to obey their husbands.
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bechloeislegit · 6 years
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What If The World Ended Tomorrow? - Chapter 3
The girls follow Chloe's lead and start running back to the front of the school. Chloe is ahead of them with the bow ready, and an arrow notched. Beca finds herself surprisingly impressed with how Chloe handles the weapon. The redhead comes to a sudden stop when they get to the main hallway. With eyes widened and fear clearly reflected, she raises a hand to stop them from coming around the corner, and then ever so slowly walks backward to rejoin her friends. The alarm is still ringing so she puts up her right hand and flashes five fingers twice in quick succession, trying to convey to the others that there are ten of the Sightless in the hallway ahead.
Beca hugs the wall and eases her head around the corner to see what they are doing. They are all centered in one area, and it looks like they are trying to climb the walls. She looks up and notices that the alarm bell is located just above them near the ceiling. It appears they are trying to get to it to stop the noise.
Beca pulls back and motions for the girls to follow her. She continues to hug the opposite wall from the Sightless and slowly makes her way towards the front door. The other girls are following close behind. They each have one eye on the zombies and the other on their surroundings, just in case. Suddenly they freeze as there's an eerie screech, and then another, and another, until all ten of the Sightless are shrieking at earsplitting levels. They seem to be screeching at the alarm.
All the Bellas have their weapons ready and quietly turn as one to face the threat. They needn't have worried because the Sightless still don't seem to know they are there. Each woman feels her heart begin to beat again and, with careful steps, they all start moving toward the door. Aubrey takes the lead and slowly pushes the door open, ever so slowly, to minimize any potential noise.
From outside a Sightless is running for the door, directly at her. The noise of the alarm seems to spur it on to greater speed. Aubrey freezes, arm down, gun not ready. The creature is only a dozen feet away and will be upon her in a second. Before anyone can react Chloe releases her arrow and it catches the zombie just beneath its left eye; not five feet from Aubrey. The force of the arrow actually lifting the Sightless creature off the ground and back a foot before it crumpled to the ground.
Stacie is instantly at Aubrey's side, hand on the back of the blonde who is trying to regain the ability to breathe. Beca is in awe of Chloe, who is quite smooth in drawing another arrow and readying her bow while scanning the immediate area. CR and Emily secure the door behind them so none of the Sightless can follow.
Then, as a group, they move away from the former sanctuary. As soon as they are in the clear, they check around, knowing the school's alarm is sure to attract more. They see another group of at least twenty of the Sleepless making their way to the school from the opposite direction of the diner. That is all the incentive they need and they scramble to get in the truck. Chloe starts it up as soon as she's behind the wheel and pulls away once she's sure everyone is on board. Driving faster than she usually does, she didn't stop until she had them back at the diner.
"Park around back," Aubrey instructs, and Chloe complies. "If there is someone else out there, we don't want them to know we're here."
They all got out of the truck and hurry into the diner. Beca and Stacie immediately went to the front and took up surveillance duty.
"If those people weren't killed by the zombies," Aubrey said. "That means that living humans did it. We haven't seen anyone besides you guys. How did we miss them?"
"I've only walked beyond the strip mall once or twice," Chloe said. "I never saw anyone else."
"Same for us," Beca tells them. "We may have only gone to town a few times, but we didn't see anyone. It was just pure luck that we were out when Chloe and Cynthia Rose were."
"From the smell, those bodies could have been there for a while," Stacie said. "The place was air conditioned so it could have preserved them a bit. All that could have happened before you guys found this place."
"You may be right, but we shouldn't take any chances," Aubrey said. "From now on, no one goes anywhere alone. No one. We will always go in pairs, even to the farm."
The girls all nod in agreement.
"Maybe we should start having lookouts at night," Chloe suggests. "If there are others out there, and after seeing what we just saw, we need to be more vigilant. Just in case they are out to do more harm than good."
"Oh, shoot," Emily said. "In all the excitement I forgot about this." She pulls some papers out of her pocket. "I found these on the bulletin board just before the alarm went off. It talks about survivor camps on different islands off the East Coast. Maybe we can get to one of them."
"Let me see that, Em," Beca said holding out her hand toward the younger girl. Emily hands over several sheets of paper and Beca looks at them. The other girls look over her shoulder as she reads them. "She's right. These show several places in North Carolina, South Carolina, and even here in Georgia. We're only about what? A 4 or 5-hour drive from Savannah? We could probably get to Tybee Island or one of the others nearby."
"A survivor camp?," Stacie asks excitedly. "Maybe some of our friends or family are there." Stacie had a hopeful look on her face as she looked around at the other girls.
"Maybe," Beca said, giving Stacie a soft smile. She looks back down at the papers on the table. "We should make a plan on trying to get to one of these places."
"I agree," Chloe said, nodding her head. "I love you girls, but it would be nice to be around some other people."
The girls work out a plan to leave in three days. They want to check out more of the town before they go. Curious to see if they can find anyone else around. They also hope to find a trailer or at least another truck to carry some of their food and supplies to help out the camp.
The girls decide to make it an early night so they can get an early start in the morning. Beca and Chloe take the first watch, promising to wake Stacie and Aubrey in three hours.
Beca sits in a booth in the darkest corner so she can see everything to the left of the diner and Chloe sits so she can see everything off to the right. They sit silently for a while until Chloe asks Beca if she wanted her to make coffee.
"That sounds really good, actually," Beca said.
Beca made sure to keep looking both ways while Chloe was up making the coffee. Chloe comes back and sets a mug in front of Beca. "Two sugars and lots of milk."
"I can't believe you remember how I like my coffee," Beca said taking a sip. "And, it's perfect."
"I remember because I thought you'd be one of those badasses who'd take it strong and black," Chloe said with a playful grin. "The stronger, the better."
Beca just smiles and takes another sip of her coffee. They sit and sip their coffee while watching out the window.
"Speaking of badass, when did you become Katniss?," Beca asks Chloe, nodding towards her bow.
Chloe actually blushes and shrugs. "Girl Scouts."
"Why am I not surprised you were a Girl Scout," Beca said with a smirk.
"I really liked it, some of my best summer memories were at camp," the redhead answers a little defensively. "Being a Girl Scout was great."
"I'm sure it was," Beca said with a smirk.
"It was," Chloe grumbles.
"And you learned archery?," Beca asks, deciding not to tease anymore.
"Yeah, I was surprisingly good at it, and I really loved the rush of hitting a target from long distances."
"Tell me about it," Beca said, actually quite curious.
"Most of the girls weren't really interested, but I loved Orlando Bloom in the Lord of the Rings, so I was super excited. I remember the instructor guiding me through the steps and then letting the arrow fly for the first time." She sat up, sounding so proud. "I was the only one to hit the target, so I shot again and hit the inner ring. Then on my third arrow, I nailed a bullseye." Chloe was grinning from ear-to-ear at this point. "I actually won a number of blue ribbons in archery competitions," she said quite proudly.
Beca is truly intrigued. "How have I not heard about this until now?," Beca asks, truly confused by this revelation.
The redhead shrugs in answer. "Not much reason to bring it up. It was fifth through eighth grade. By the time I started High School I was mostly done. I had achieved a number of patches and awards. I got busy with school activities and cheerleading, volleyball, and chorus, of course, so the Girl Scouts faded into the past."
"You missed it though," Beca observes. She can see the wistful look.
"Yeah, there was something about being a part of something that appealed to me, even at an early age. I love the whole ethos of helping others. I learned a whole lot, and it was cool to have the uniform," Chloe answers enthusiastically.
Beca just sits there silently enraptured by the redhead. Chloe notices Beca just watching her, and asks, "What?"
Beca shakes herself out of wherever she had just gone and blushes. "Umm, I was just thinking how badass you turned out to be, and…"
"You're picturing me in my Girl Scout uniform, aren't you?"
Beca's blush covers her face. "Maybe…"
"You're adorable," Chloe said with a wink.
"Probably not as adorable as you are in your uniform," Beca counters.
Chloe shakes her head, causing Beca to raise an eyebrow at her. "Not adorable. Totally hot," Chloe said with a husky voice and another wink.
Beca actually blushes more. "You're going to be the death of me." Chloe laughs, and Beca loves the sound.
Both women lapse into a comfortable silence. Each dealing with the weird incongruity of being able to tease and flirt, even as they are on guard against monsters in the night, both human and zombie.
"So, what happened with Ashley and Jessica?," Beca quietly asks after a while.
"Ashley just totally freaked out," Chloe tells her. "She was the one that drove us away from you guys that day. We tried to get her to stop, but she wouldn't listen. Jessica finally got her to calm down and stop the bus, but by then it was too late. You guys were already gone. We drove around for a while before we made a plan and decided to drive to Jessica's family's house that was about three hours away. Jessica was driving, and there was a group of them in the road. She tried to go around them, but the bus got stuck. We would have been fine, but Ashley ran off the bus screaming. The screams attracted the Sightless, and they came after us. Cyn, Emily, Aubrey, Lily, and I started running and ran into the woods. I looked back, and Ashley was just standing there screaming, and the Sightless attacked her. Jessica tried to, tried-" Chloe let out a small sob and wipes at the tears that had been pouring down her face.
"You can stop," Beca tells her. She moves to sit next to Chloe and takes her in her arms. Chloe clings to Beca and cries. She hadn't really had a chance to mourn because she was trying to stay strong for the others.
"I'm sorry," Chloe said, sniffling. "None of us have really grieved, you know?"
"I get it," Beca said. "Before I had to," Beca stops and swallows. "I cried for about a week after the day it all happened. I cried for Amy. I cried for you, and the rest of the Bellas, thinking you were either dead or one of those things. After that week, I hadn't shed a tear until I had to keep my promise to Jesse."
"I'm so glad we found each other again," Chloe said. "There was a piece of my heart missing, and I didn't think it would ever be whole again, until now." She pulls back and looks at Beca.
Beca takes Chloe's face in her hands and uses the pads of the thumbs to wipe away her tears. She leans in and kisses Chloe. Chloe pulls Beca to her and deepens the kiss. They pull apart, and Chloe let out a small laugh as she put her forehead to Beca's. They sat like that for a minute or two before Beca pulls back.
"We need to keep watch," Beca said and gives Chloe a quick peck on the lips. Chloe nods her head, and Beca moves back over to her original seat. She took Chloe's hand across the table and held it until it was time to wake Aubrey and Stacie for their watch.
*0*0*0*0*
CR and Emily woke the others after preparing breakfast for them all. They ate and got dressed for the day.
"I think we should go into town and see if we can find a trailer or another truck to use," Aubrey suggests. "I also think we might want to make a visit to the army surplus to get a little more firepower."
"Aubrey's right," Beca said. "I'll go."
"Me, too," Chloe volunteers. "How about you CR? Want to go with us? You can drive the new truck if we find one."
"I can do that," Cynthia Rose replies.
"The three of us should go to the farm and get eggs and milk," Emily said, looking a Stacie and Aubrey. "We haven't been in a couple of days, and I think we need to check on the animals."
"Good idea," Aubrey said and looks at her watch. "It's 8:30 now, so let's plan for everyone to be back here by no later than 11:00?"
"That gives us plenty of time," Beca said. "Sounds like a plan. Chloe? CR? You two ready?"
"Let's go," Chloe said gathering her bow and quiver of arrows.
CR grabs her gun as well as a crossbow and some arrows. Beca grabs her rifle, and the three girls do a quick perimeter check as a safety precaution before heading to the truck. Chloe gets behind the wheel and drives to the mall where they found Beca and Stacie. Beca looks out the window at the structure and swallows, remembering her last trip there. She wipes a tear from her eye and Chloe squeezes her leg to comfort her. Chloe pulls up to a different entrance than before, and the three girls get out and look around.
"I think we're clear," CR said.
*0*0*0*0*
Aubrey and Emily lead Stacie to the farm. They stay along the tree line and look all around before heading to the barn where the animals are enclosed. Emily opens the door, and the three girls enter.
"Phew," Stacie said, holding her nose. "Definitely smells like animals."
"You kind of get used to it after a few seconds," Emily tells her. She walks over to the two cows and sets down the two pails she had been carrying. She runs her hand over their sides as she walks between them to get the stool to sit on while milking.
Aubrey takes Stacie's hand and leads her over to the chickens. They are all sitting on their nests lightly clucking. "We have to get them to move so we can get at the eggs," Aubrey said.
"Do we really need to do this?," Stacie asks. "I mean, we are planning to leave in like two days. They won't last."
"We need the eggs for breakfast," Aubrey said. "We still have some milk leftover from our last trip here. We're only going to milk them, so their udders aren't full when we leave."
"The plan is to leave the door open so they can leave on their own," Emily tells her. "We think it might be worse on them if we leave them locked up in here. If they can get out, maybe someone else will find and take care of them." Emily sits on a stool and puts a bucket under the first cow. She reaches under and starts to pull on the teat. Nothing happens. She tries again.
"Shoo!" Aubrey says and gives a slight push to the hen in front of her. The hen flaps her wings and jumps away from Aubrey.
"There's nothing there," Stacie said as she looks in the nest.
"That happens sometimes," Aubrey said as she tries to get the other hens to move.
"Guys," Emily said getting their attention. "I think we should head back to the diner now."
"Why?," Aubrey asks. "What's wrong?"
"Are you finding any eggs?," Emily asks as she stands and walks toward Aubrey.
"Actually, no," Aubrey said and furrows her brow as she checks all the nests. "There aren't any eggs at all."
"The cows have been milked recently," Emily said as she holds her gun at the ready. The other two girls follow suit, and they start moving toward the door.
*0*0*0*0*
Beca stood looking around. She cocks her head to the side. "Do you guys hear that?"
Chloe and CR stop and listen. "Is that the alarm from the school?," CR asks.
"Sounds like it," Chloe said. "We will have to pass the school to get to the car lot. We can check and see how many of those things might still be hanging around."
CR and Beca nod and they continue into the mall. Chloe leads them to the army surplus store, and they start loading up their backpacks with ammunition and handguns. Beca grabs all the grenades she can see and throws them in a separate bag. CR grabs three or four AR-15s and slings them over her shoulder. She finds ammunition for them and loads them into a backpack. Chloe is checking out the hunting knives and takes a few along with sheaths to hold them. She carefully sticks them down inside one of the backpacks.
Beca goes over to one of the racks and pulls off a heavy parka and puts it on. She zips it and decides it fits well. "We should get one of these coats for all of us," she tells the others. "It gets cold at night. We may need them."
CR and Chloe find their sizes and then Chloe pulls out three for Aubrey, Stacie, and Emily.
"Maybe we should get sleeping bags, too," CR suggests. "We don't know where we might have to sleep."
"We could probably get this all to the truck in one trip," Chloe said. "But, we would be vulnerable if we see any of those things."
"Yeah, but if we make too many trips we have a greater risk of running into them," Beca said.
"I say we make one trip," CR suggests. "We just need to be fast and vigilant."
They manage to get everything to the truck without seeing any of the Sightless. They all get in the truck, and Chloe looks at them.
"I saw a car dealership past the High School during one of my walks about a month ago," Chloe said. "There are trucks and vans there so I'm sure we can find something we can use. We can check the school on the way."
"That works," Beca said, and CR nods. They both had two guns at the ready just in case.
Chloe starts the truck and pulls away from the mall and goes onto the street. They can hear the alarm bells get louder as they got closer to the school.
"Holy shit," CR yells out. Chloe sees what CR sees and stops the truck. They are about a hundred yards from the school, and the school is literally surrounded by the Sightless.
"Where the hell did they all come from?," Beca asks somewhat in awe of the number they were seeing.
"Should we keep going?," Chloe asks watching the crowd. "It doesn't seem like anything's changed with them. It looks like they are all still trying to get to the alarms."
"They may have managed to stop a couple of them," Beca said. "It doesn't seem as loud as before."
"We're in the truck," CR said. "We can outrun them if we have to."
"I think CR is right," Beca said. "We really need to find another truck."
"Okay," Chloe said, biting her bottom lip. "Let's do this."
She puts the truck in drive and starts moving. She speeds up a bit and then maintains her speed, so the engine is a continuous hum. She's afraid that going faster may make the engine louder or create some noise that would make them aware of their presence. They manage to get past the school safely, although Beca and CR both shiver as they drive by.
"Did it seem like some of them were following us with their eyes," CR whispers to Beca. Beca swallows and nods her head.
"What? What's wrong?," Chloe asks, sensing a change in their demeanor. "Why are you whispering?"
"It's probably just nerves," CR responds. "But it seemed like some of them were watching us as we rode by."
Chloe quickly checks the rearview mirror. "None of them are following us."
"That's good," Beca said. "Let's just keep going and do what we have to do so we can get back."
*0*0*0*0*
Aubrey gets to the barn door first and slowly opens it. She looks around but doesn't see or hear anyone or anything. She eases the door open a little wider and looks again before she exits the barn.
"Close the door behind us," Aubrey said. "Just in case there are some non-Sightless around, they can use the milk and eggs."
"What if it's the people who killed the folks at the school?," Stacie asks.
"I can't just let them go if someone is already using them for food or drink," Aubrey said. "No matter what they may or may not have done. I just can't."
"I get it, Aubrey," Emily said as she closes the door and makes sure it is secure. "Let's go."
*0*0*0*0*
Chloe drove about ten minutes further down the road and finds the Nissan dealership. She slowly drives around to look for any signs of the Sightless or any other signs of life. They don't see anything, but they do see several cargo vans. Chloe stops near one of them. "That might be good to use. We can carry a bunch of supplies in it."
"Let's check it out," CR said and gets out of the truck. She walks over and tries the driver's side door only to find it locked. "It's locked. I bet we can find some keys inside the dealership."
CR and Beca walk to the door and try it. It opens. Chloe looks around and follows them in. "Check to see if there is an office in the back. That's probably where they keep all the keys."
Beca goes to the back and sees the keys are tagged with the vehicle's license plate number. CR runs out and gets the plate number to the van, and they go back to find the right keys. The hurry outside and CR goes to click the button to unlock the van, but Beca stops her.
"We don't want to attract any of those things," Beca tells her. "It may not be very loud, but this may make the kind of noise they are attracted to."
"Sorry," CR said and walks over to unlock the door with the key. It opens with no trouble. They both check out the interior and are satisfied that it fits their needs. "This is perfect. Let's get out of here."
"Wait," Beca said. "Where's Chloe?"
"Right here," Chloe said from behind her. "I found us a better truck. Come see."
CR and Beca follow Chloe around the corner and see a silver-gray Nissan Titan. "Damn, girl," CR said. "That's one badass looking truck."
"It sure is," Chloe said, her eyes gleaming. "And, I have the keys." She goes over and unlocks the doors. This truck has all the bells and whistles. "It has a backseat, so we don't all have to jam into the front. I think we should trade in the old one for this baby."
Beca can't help but smile at Chloe. There isn't much to be excited about these days, and it's nice to see her like this. "I think you're right, Chlo," she said with a grin. "Let's load our stuff into this truck and get out of here. Why don't you drive it around to the other side."
Chloe doesn't have to be told twice. "Get in you two," she said and drives them to the other vehicles.
They hurry and put all their new stuff into the new truck. CR climbs behind the wheel of the van and starts it up. She pulls out, and Beca tells her to take the lead. CR does, and Chloe follows behind. They are traveling at a pretty good speed, and Chloe is in love with the new truck.
"Oh, my God, Becs," Chloe exclaims, her eyes shining. "This truck is amazing. And listen to that engine purring like a kitten."
Beca can only sit in her seat and smile at the redhead. Beca looks up when she suddenly hears the school's alarm. They are much closer to it than she thought. CR continues to maintain her speed and drives by the school. Chloe does the same, and they seem to be in the clear. Beca keeps an eye on the crowd that is still at the school but doesn't get the feeling of being watched like before. She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding.
"Let's sing," Chloe said suddenly. "I want to sing."
"You're crazy, you know that?," Beca said, smiling at how happy Chloe is. "What should we sing?"
"You shoot me down, but I won't fall," Chloe starts and bursts into laughter at the look on Beca's face. "You're so easy, Mitchell."
Beca just gives her a glare. She starts to say something when Chloe suddenly sits up straight and is looking in the rearview mirror. Something is moving in the distance and it’s coming toward them.
"What the fuck?," Chloe said. Beca turns to look over her shoulder. She spots the movement easily. It's dark and moving fast, and it seems to be gaining on them.
"What the hell is that?," Beca asks.
"I don't know," Chloe answers, she spares a glance into the rearview mirror. "But it's gaining on us." Her foot instinctively pushes down on the gas pedal, and the truck picks up speed.
Beca takes no comfort as the mass continues to catch up. She knows she needs to act. "Keep driving and don't stop for anything," Beca tells Chlo. "And I mean anything."
Beca climbs into the backseat and opens the window that leads to the bed of the pickup. She starts to shimmy through, and for the first time in a long time, she's really thankful that she's so petite.
"What are you doing?," Chloe screams at her. She does not like this plan one bit. Unconsciously she eases up on the gas pedal.
Beca lands in the bed of the truck and looks back at Chloe. "Don't slow down or stop for anything." Chloe looks at Beca in the mirror, and their eyes lock. "I love you!" Chloe nods and Beca sees her lips mouth 'I love you, too,' and the petite brunette feels the truck's speed pick up again.
Beca turns and gets the bag with the grenades in it. She pulls one out and removes the pin. Looking up she's shocked to see how close the dark mass is. It's a horde; a horde of the Sightless. But even in her surprised state, she notes that there's something different. She shakes herself free of her hesitation and throws the grenade as hard as she can.
The small metal orb hits the pavement and bounds in the air about four feet, and then disappears among the horde, just before it explodes. She watches as what looks like a half-dozen bodies fly through the air, yet there are still more running after the truck.
The sight of so many of these new Sightless is fear-inducing. She realizes she can actually hear their feet slapping on the pavement, most are now barefoot. She also realizes they're screeching high pitched keening sounds that leave her cold. She is frozen by all this for a moment.
Chloe must have noticed in the rearview mirror because she honks the truck's horn. This wakes Beca, and she scrambles to the bag. She removes another grenade, pulling the pin and throwing it immediately. She throws two more before she pulls out her gun and starts firing. Her first shots are rapid, but then she realizes she needs to be more steady. Taking her time she aims at the ones still coming at the truck. Once she shoots what she hopes is the last one, Beca falls onto her back in the bed of the truck. The adrenaline leaving her overwhelmed.
"Beca!," Chloe is yelling. "Beca! Answer me!"
*0*0*0*0*
"What the hell was that?," Aubrey asks as she jumps up and rushes to the window.
"Sounded like some kind of explosion," Stacie said. She is now standing next to Aubrey as they both look out the diner's front window.
"Can we please talk about how someone has milked cows and taken eggs, and we haven't seen them?," Emily said, frustration and fear heavy in her voice.
"Let's just hope those explosions were caused by our girls," Stacie said.
"I'm so ready to get the hell out of here," Emily said and starts gathering her stuff.
*0*0*0*0*
"I'm fine," Beca sits up and yells to Chloe through the open window. "Keep driving. I'm going to stay back here in case any more show up."
Chloe wipes a tear from her face and hurries to get back to the diner. She parks around the back next to the van and jumps out of the truck. Beca jumps out of the bed of the pickup and the two girls grab each other in a bone crushing hug as tears stream down their faces. Beca pulls back and gives Chloe a kiss. Chloe ends the kiss and grabs Beca into another hug. Beca hugs her back, and they stand there for another minute just holding on to each other.
"We should get inside," Beca said putting her arm around Chloe's waist as they walk towards the diner.
The door is thrown open, and CR is standing in front of them. "What the fuck was that?"
They see the rest of the girls over CR's shoulder looking at them anxiously. 
"Let's get inside," Chloe said.
CR looks at them and moves aside to let them enter. She secures the door and follows the others into the dining area. They take seats and CR looks at Beca and Chloe.
"What the fuck was that?," CR asks them again.
"I don't know," Beca said shaking her head. "But they were faster than I don't know what and they were running right at us."
"What the hell happened?," Stacie asks. "We heard what sounded like explosions."
"Grenades," Beca said, suddenly noticing she was shaking. Chloe noticed and took her hand to calm her. "Those things are evolving or something. They looked like those infected zombie sightless things, but they were running like really fast and came right at the truck. Like they knew we were there. Like they could see us or something. They came at us in a horde. It was...scary."
"This isn't good," Aubrey said, anxiety present in her voice. "We always had the element of knowing what made them tick so we could avoid them. If they can hear everything now. . or see."
"We didn't meet up with any of the Sightless," Emily said. "But someone has been to the barn."
"How can you tell?," Beca asks.
"The cows have been milked," Emily responds. "And there wasn't a single egg to be found."
The girls look at each other. They are more afraid now than they've been since this whole thing started.
"We need to leave now," Chloe said. "Get out of here while we can."
"I agree," Beca said. "They die or whatever if you shoot them, and the grenades worked on them, too. But, if they're evolving, we may not stand a chance against them."
"I'm afraid Beca's right," Emily said. "I say we pack the trucks up and get the hell out of here. Try and make it to one of the survivor camps tonight."
They are all in agreement and start making plans to leave. Aubrey pulls out a map and lays it flat on a table. All the women multitask, continuing to gather items to take with them, as they discuss possible destinations. There is a general consensus to head to Tybee Island near Savannah. Aubrey and Beca plot out the best route and both write the directions down so that each vehicle will have a copy to follow.
Once the decision is made on their destination, the girls jump into action and start loading up the cargo van. Emily is insistent they take the mattresses, and the other girls relent to keep from spending too much time arguing about it. With the six of them, it doesn't take long to load up both vehicles. They take everything they can from the diner and load it into the cargo van. The weapons and ammunition are placed in the bed of the pickup along with one of the mattresses; the other two are placed in the van.
CR gets behind the wheel of the van with Emily riding shotgun; literally as she checks to see if her shotgun is loaded. Both vehicles have several loaded guns, and a few grenades close at hand. Chloe takes the wheel of the pickup with Beca riding shotgun. Beca makes sure her guns and grenades are within easy reach. Stacie and Aubrey opt to ride in the bed of the pickup, using the mattress to sit on. They have the rest of the weapons and ammunition at their disposal if needed.
The two vehicles head out, with CR taking the lead. They drive away from the diner, and each girl feels like she is leaving something of herself behind. Beca glances back in the direction of the mall and sends up a silent prayer for Jesse. Stacie takes Aubrey's hand as they continually scan their surroundings for anything that looks out of place.
Chloe is keeping her eyes on the road but is also scanning from side to side as she drives. Beca looks over at Chloe trying to see everywhere at once.
"Why don't you keep your eyes on the road and look to your left," Beca suggests. "I'll keep watch on the right."
"Okay," Chloe agrees, giving Beca a grateful smile.
Beca can sense how tense Chloe is. She reaches across the seat and gives Chloe's shoulder a squeeze. "We're going to be fine." Chloe gives her a thankful smile and puts her left hand on top of Beca's.
They both go back to keeping watch as they follow behind CR and Emily. They had only been on the road for about an hour when Beca hears Chloe exclaim, "Dammit!."
"What?," Beca asks, sitting up straight and looking around. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary, she asks, "What's wrong?"
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army-author · 7 years
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jungkook scenario | fire and ice
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❝ Jungkook has the gift to create fire with a snap of his fingers, and you have the ability to send ice shooting from your skin - with opposing talents, and opposing personalities to match, it’s no wonder that you hate each other... until you realise that you don’t... ❞
➸ prompt: There is a lockdown drill that’s lasting a really long time so we’re stuck in a dark room crammed under a desk together. Wanna talk about our feelings now?
➸ pairing: jungkook x reader
➸ requested by anon | 6.9k words | fluff, enemies to lovers au, fantasy au
➸ author’s note: idk what this au is to be honest... I just wanted Jungkook to have fire powers. I hope it’s not confusing!
When you first meet Jungkook the conditions aren’t exactly right for budding romance. They aren’t even right for potential friendship. Or acquaintanceship. Which is why you don’t begin as lovers, crushing on each other, nor do you begin as friends, smiling fondly. Not even as casual acquaintances, barely registering each other’s existence. Instead, you begin as enemies.
All because, after only two minutes of knowing each other, Jungkook manages to set your hair on fire.
Maybe it’s your fault. After all, you’re the one that provokes him.
You’re determined to dislike him from the very beginning – because your parents have warned you about the infamous fire-tamers and their unruly flames, soaring out of control with their emotions.
So when you see Jungkook at the other side of the playground on your first day of school, which claims to give the best learning experience for gifted young individuals, blessed with unique abilities, you instantly pick him out as different from you. He’s from the family that rivals your own, and just one glance at him has the proud blood in your veins bubbling. With ice woven through your DNA, allowing you to create frost at a touch, and call forth thick clouds of soft snow, it’s only natural that you’re wary of this young fire-tamer, who you know can call plumes of fire with a snap of his fingers, and in doing so, can snap apart your fragile ice. You’re prepared to hate him before you even speak to him.
Even though, when your mother had kissed you on your forehead, and waved you off to school, she made you promise, “Get on well with your new classmates. And make lots of friends.”
But you can’t be friends with a fire-tamer.
Even if he does look a lot different from what you were expecting – with his black hair parted and combed off his forehead, and his pristine school uniform, so different from the idea you had built up of fire-tamers, living wild in the desert, wearing animal hides on their backs and no shoes on their feet – you still can’t be friends with him.
As an ice-summoner, brought up in a frozen mansion, kept clean by your mother’s maids, and never allowed out into the cold, unless it was in your expensive coat, and your polished boots, just hearing of the fire-tamers’ way of living is enough to make you faint in the head, swooning at the idea of stepping outside barefoot.
Staring across at the young boy on the other side of the playground, introducing himself to some other new students, you know you can’t trust the clean image he presents. There’s got to be truth to the stories you’ve heard about fire-tamers – their wild behaviours and unruly ways. As you watch him with some other boys, an animal-talker, who’s demonstrating his powers by calling over some birds by the shrubbery to chat to them, and an unseen-seer, showing his ability by blending out of sight, the fire-tamer lifts his hand, eager to show off his own gift, and with a loud snap of his fingers, he sends out a plume of fire that has the birds scattering.
The animal-talker stares after the birds, shocked by the smoke that still lingers in the air, his lips wobbling. The fire-tamer clearly has no common-sense, you decide, calling fires from his fingers in the middle of a playground and scaring other students.
A surge of anger wells in your chest. Before you can stop yourself, you’re marching across the playground, pushing past the other new students to reach the group.
“Excuse me! Can’t you be a bit more careful? Summoning fires out of the blue is dangerous you know!”
The fire-tamer looks you up and down, lips curling into a smirk when his eyes come to rest on your family brooch pinned to your school jumper: the diamond carved into a snow-flake that marks you out as an ice-whisperer.
“Relax,” He rolls out the word, “I know how to control my gifts, so it’s fine!”
“If that were true you wouldn’t need to come to school,” you retort, “If you’re so good at controlling your gift, why don’t you just go home?”
The boy’s lip curls. “I’m here to get better. But what about you, ice-breath? Can you not use your powers at all?”
“Of course I can use my powers!” you spit back, although you know it’s a lie. You were never allowed to practice your gifts at home, in case you damaged something expensive – and everything in your house is expensive.
“Show us then!” the boy challenges, and although you’ve never summoned your powers before, with anger thrumming through your body it only takes one grit of your teeth and one clench of your fists to send shards of ice shooting from your skin. Straight towards the boy.
A spark of ice hits him on the cheek, spreading out its crystalline pattern across his well-tanned skin, turning blue with biting frost.
As soon as the ice comes in contact, he begins screaming, clawing at the skin that’s being nipped by your creation. You reach out a hand, stepping closer, panicking when you see what you’ve done. You want to stop it. How do you stop it? How do you take back your ice?
You know it must be especially painful for him, with his skin so used to heat, withstanding the sweltering dessert sun, standing firm and strong in his own smoke and ash. But one touch of ice has tears streaking down his face, freezing in streams on his cheek.
But as you move forward, desperate to to stop your powers, the boy throws up his hands to you, and trying to push you back, he sends flames leaping from his fingers.
It’s only self-defence. To melt your ice and keep himself unharmed.
But from where you stand, with fire surging towards you, reaching burning tongues to eat you up, you don’t see it that way. From where you’re standing, he’s attacking you.
The next thing you know, there’s heat billowing around your head, your view swimming from the smoke, and you can see in your periphery vision that your hair, neatly tied off your face, is now being licked by the boy’s flames.
The other children by your side are screaming as your brain tries to process what’s happening, while the fire-tamer stares on, face draining of colour as he realises what he’s done.
That’s how, on the very first day of school, you find yourself in the principal’s office, with the fire-tamer, who you discover is called Jungkook, by your side, both with your heads hanging while your headmaster scolds you for your ‘gross misconduct’ and your ‘abuse of your natural gifts’.
When you finally leave the principal’s office, biting back tears, so unused to being scolded, you’re met by the animal-talker and the unseen-seer who were talking with Jungkook before you interrupted him and got the two of you in trouble. It was Jungkook’s fault for using his powers in the first place. You wouldn’t have gone up to him if he hadn’t scared those birds away.
“Are you alright?” the unseen-seer looks at you with concern, before his eyes turn to Jungkook, whose cheeks are still flushed red from the bite of your ice.
“Fine.” You and Jungkook both speak at the same time, before turning to shoot each other a glare.
“I hope my dad didn’t shout too much,” the animal-talker pipes up, and you stare at him in confusion:
“Your dad?”
“The headmaster,” the animal-talker explains, “Mr. Kim. He’s my dad. I’m Taehyung, by the way.” He sticks out his hand with a boxy grin.
“And I’m Jimin,” the unseen-seer adds, his voice sounding oddly soft after Taehyung’s loud mannerisms.
You mumble your own name, giving the two boys a smile, while you try to ignore the fire-tamer by your side.
And so, by the end of your first day you’ve already made two friends, and one enemy.
Maybe you should give Jungkook a chance. Get over your differences. It’s been four years since you first met him, and he set your hair on fire. You know he didn’t mean it, in the same way you never meant to freeze his skin – and Jimin and Taehyung keep encouraging you to look past your differences, insisting that if you actually get to know Jungkook you’ll get on really well with him – but it will never happen. You’re far too stubborn, your hate bubbling in the pit of your stomach, anger boiling every time you look Jungkook’s way, taking in those annoyingly perfect eyes, so deep and dark you get lost in them, forgetting exactly why you dislike him in the first place, and losing any ability to think, talk, do anything. He probably does that on purpose, just to mess with you.
It’s best if you stay away, even if Jimin and Taehyung want the two of you close. With your ice powers, being near Jungkook is a danger. He can disable your abilities with one click of his fingers – snap! – and all you’re left with is thawed ice sliding down your wrists.
But that doesn’t stop your school from trying to force you together. The teachers probably do it on purpose, making you sit with Jungkook in Elemental Control class, making you team up in gym, and basically making you spend every possible moment together, so that the school can scream an ethos of acceptance, something about ‘creating connections and going beyond our differences to celebrate our gifts’. You’re sure you read something like that in the school prospectus. It probably looks good if they can show potential students, “Hey, see! Even our ice-whisperers and our fire-tamers get along!”
But you don’t get along. You can’t get past Jungkook’s differences. It’s as if he was made specifically to annoy you, God twisting his DNA together just so he can get on your nerves
All of him is infuriating. His handsome face, his towering height, the breadth of his shoulders, even the elevated veins in his hands – every part of it all comes together into something that’s so perfect it makes you guilty to hate it. Which just makes you hate him more.
So what if Jimin and Taehyung are also his friends? So what if this feud between the two of you is really inconvenient to your friendship circle? So what if you’re too old for childish dislike?
None of that stops the fact that he’s making your grades suffer – overpowering your ice in every class where you sit next to him, leaving you with half-melted ice dripping down to a sopping puddle of failed attempts by your feet. And then the teachers act as if it’s your fault that there’s a slipping hazard on the classroom floor. As if it was you that chose to sit beside Jungkook and have his fire turn your ice to water.
If you and Jungkook could only exist apart from each other, with everyone accepting that you were just born to not get along, then maybe there would be peace.
But as it is, everyone pushes you together, fire and ice, the perfect duo that everyone expects to compliment the other, like summer and winter, a hot shower after a day battling the cold outdoors, warm chocolate cake and cold ice-cream. Going perfectly together. Yeah right!
Every day you find something new to argue over.
And as you improve and grow in your talents, now knowing how to send shards of ice curling out from your fingers in complicated patters, watching as they leave trails of condensation on the warm air, while Jungkook’s flames grow bigger, crackling bright and vibrant around his hands. With this kind of power coursing through you, your and Jungkook’s fighting is starting to have more serious implications.
The small tussles you would have in first year, where the worst you would do was freeze Jungkook’s skin, while he singed a few hairs, now, when you clash there’s a chance of damage to school property, not to mention any unfortunate individuals who happen to cross paths with you.
Take the day you and Jungkook decided to audition for the school talent show for example. You were trying to show off your ice-powers to the judges, and Jungkook, just off stage, had turned the air hot and sweltering with his anxious pacing. With his warmth overwhelming you, all you could produce were a few cubes of dripping ice.
Incited, you had marched off the stage to throw all your anger at Jungkook, face still burning from the humiliation you had just experienced as you demanded, “Jungkook, why, why, why do you keep on screwing everything up for me?”
He had blanched at you, face going as white as the snow you had been hoping, but failed, to conjure.
“Why do you have to ruin everything?” you kept on, although your tone had lost all the vitriol of just a few seconds ago.
You had no right to be angry, you knew it. In fact, if anyone should have been angry, it was Jungkook.
And he was. You could see it welling below the surface, flashing dangerously in his cold eyes. His voice dripped venom as he spat back, “Sorry. But I can’t help it that your powers are so weak that they’re rendered useless just by my being nearby.”
Under his hard stare, you were folding back in on yourself. You had overstepped a line this time.
“Sorry,” he spits, “But I can’t help it that you have the same friends as me. That we take the same classes. That we have to be around each other any second longer than you would like. And sorry that you have to put up with me. Sorry that I’m so awful. But don’t you think you owe me an apology as well? Isn’t it you who keeps on picking arguments, forcing me to spend more time talking with you than I need to? It’s almost like you have an obsession with me…”
“Excuse me?” you curled you lip, fury boiling your blood.
Jungkook’s eyes sparkled when he saw he’d hit a nerve. “I said… it’s almost like you have an obsession with me? It’s almost like you love me.”
“Shut up!” cheeks burning, a spiral of ice erupted from your finger tips, shooting jagged spikes towards Jungkook, “Just shut up!” Fury rose up inside you like waves of lava, burning at your throat. The only way you could get rid of the awful feeling was spiking it all at Jungkook, shouting out your rage with poisonous insults.
In love? No. This was hate. Pure and simple.
You had never experienced real burning, seething, raging hate before, but you knew it when you felt it. It threatened to overwhelm your entire body, blood boiling, ears ringing, you could feel it scorching under your skin, red and hot, threatening to burst your heart apart.
And as you let it crash over you, your ice kept cracking outwards, spiked frozen fingers that reached out for Jungkook, dripping water as they edged closer to his hot skin.
Maybe it was self-defence. Maybe it was his own hate. But the next thing you knew, Jungkook was engulfed in flames, reducing your ice to steam. Where his feet stood, fire begin to scramble across the floor, devouring all it touched.
But neither of you cared. All you were focussed on was each other. You were consumed with Jungkook, with your loathing for him, eaten up by your own intolerance, spilling ire and ice. You shot back to defend yourself, momentarily catching his flames in frost, breaking them apart, reducing them to smoke, before he melted your attack away with more fire.
Over the crackling of burning, you shouted:
“Just because everyone else in the world loves you, Jungkook, doesn’t mean I ever will!”
And then his flames reached the wooden floorboards of the stage. It all went up with a whoosh, fire blazing hot against your skin.
The anger drained from Jungkook’s face as he realised what he had done, just as the fire alarms finally kicked in and the sprinklers went off.
Thank goodness no one had been standing there.
It was another trip to the headmaster’s office for the both of you, and with the vicious scolding you got, you were relieved to escape with only a month’s worth of detentions. Maybe it was because you had Taehyung on your side, putting in a  good word for you.
You left the headmaster’s room with your head hanging low once more, and as you walked down the hallway, with Jungkook awkwardly loitering a few steps behind, he muttered to you, “Sorry.”
And you muttered, “Sorry,” back.
“I know you don’t love me,” Jungkook continued, “I know it’s all only hate. It was just a dumb joke. Sorry.”
Maybe if he’d just left it at one ‘sorry’, you wouldn’t feel so bad. But it’s been eating you up since he let that second apology escape his lips. Or maybe it was the words that came before. ‘It’s all only hate.’ You can’t get those words out of your head, and you’re thinking that maybe now is the time to make amends. Properly. To say sorry and mean it. To be done with it. Because no matter how much you wish it, you really can’t hate Jungkook as much as you want to. Maybe it’s that irresistible face of his. Or maybe it’s because you know he’s more than the anger he shows you.
So, you’ve resolved to properly say sorry, and make things right. Maybe you’re only feeling this way because winter has settled in at your school now, and frost is biting down around you, and even Jungkook’s fire can’t stop your talents from flourishing with the snow on your side.
When you catch him after school, walking back to the dorm rooms on the other side of the site, huddled up against the cold, with only a shirt and jeans on despite the frost caking the ground, you call after him, clutching your scarf to stop it blowing off in the wind as you run over.
When he turns to see you, his shoulders visibly slump, and his eyes freeze over. You deserve that.
“What do you want?” he asks. There’s poison lacing his tone, and you find yourself swallowing against the lump developing in your throat. Why can’t you just blurt out sorry and be done with it? Instead, you mumble, “I’m walking back to the dorms, and I didn’t walk alone…”
He raises an eyebrow pointedly. “So - what? You wanted to walk with me? Me?”
With him repeating it back it really doesn’t sound believable at all.
You grit your teeth. “You’re better than no one!” You find yourself wincing at your tone. This isn’t the way to start an apology. Yet, old habits die hard, and no matter how much you want to get past your fraught history with Jungkook, your body is physically refusing your intentions, muscles stiff and jaw locked as you step down the path after him.
“I would have thought you’d rather be alone than endure any extra time in my company,” Jungkook bites back bitterly, his voice coming out on a hiss of breath. You don’t know if it’s the cold stinging him, or just your presence eating him up inside.
Now would be a good time to tell him that he’s not all that bad, that you don’t hate him nearly as much as he might think, that you’re sorry for all you ever do, that you’re ashamed of your flaring temper, more furious than any flames he could conjure.
But instead, all you can say is, “Well, you’re right. No one’s better than you.” And then you realise what you said – no one’s better than you, as in… you’re the best… - “And by that I mean I’d rather have no one than you, don’t take it the wrong way.” You hate yourself for continuing on, tripping over your phrases, getting more and more tangled in your speech. You need to stop. You need to back track. You need to just apologise before you make this worse.
“Well then,” Jungkook speeds up his step, pacing away from you on his longer legs, “You can walk by yourself can’t you?”
“Wait!” you call him back before you can stop yourself, and stumble to a halt when he turns around sharply to face you so that you almost face-plant into his chest.
His dark eyes demand, “What?”
You should say sorry. Say it. Just say it.
Instead, all you mumble is: “You look like an idiot wandering around in only a shirt and jeans in this weather.”
His eyebrows rise up his forehead. “Well sorry… but we don’t exactly have cold weather in the deserts, so I never get to buy them at home.”
Before he can continue on whining, giving excuses, you unwind your own scarf from your neck, and reach up on tip toes to throw it around his shoulders.
He stares at you, blinking his surprise with parted lips, and you only give a huff, “You can keep it. I don’t want it back. Not after it’s touched you.”
Even when you’re being nice, you just have to add in an insult. You resist the urge to kick yourself, and instead, turn on your heel and walk off, even though your dorm is back in the other direction, the same direction Jungkook’s heading. Darn!
“I just wish we could get past all that’s happened between us,” you complain to Taehyung and Jimin over lunch the next day.
Your friends share a look, while you rip a bite off your sandwich and chew with vigour, before continuing, “I mean… I tried apologising, I really did, but I just couldn’t do it!” You slump down, shoulders sagging as you remember your failed attempts to make things right after years of making things wrong.
“Why do you hate him so much anyway?” Taehyung asks, as he reaches to steal a chip from your plate. You’re too distracted by your own problems to bother chastising him for his food theft.
“I don’t know,” you shrug lamely, “I guess it started because fire-tamers and ice-whispers have been fighting with each other since as long as our families can remember. Because of that I never even gave him a chance. You know, I took one look at him in the playground on our first day here, and already thought I hated him. I didn’t even know him though, so how could I have hated him just like that?” You hang your head, looking down to your half-chewed sandwich, suddenly seeming unappetising after all this talk. “I never gave him a chance to show himself outside of his gifts, and he never gave me a chance either. Every time we cross paths we manage to get in each other’s way – his fire is always melting my ice, and my thawed snow puts out his flames. Kind of a vicious cycle...”
Jimin hums in sympathy. “It really is a shame. You two have a lot more in common than you think, if only you could get past your families’ names.”
You rest your head in your hands, squishing up your cheeks. “I know. I know. I just wish I could start over with him…”
“Well here’s your chance,” Taehyung whispers, and you look up to see Jungkook weaving past groups of students, heading towards your table. His eyes light up when Taehyung gives him a wave, and he waves back, gracing Jimin with a grin as well, before his eyes flicker to yours momentarily, and one side of his lips curl in a tentative half-smile.
This is the problem with sharing friends with him. You should stay, try making conversation with him, get to know more about him – but despite all your moaning just a few seconds before, as soon as he sits down beside you, you stand up, as if electrocuted, and announce, “I’m going to go chat to some of my other friends,” before hastily retreating away, feeling Jungkook’s eyes burning at the back of your head.
Why can’t you face him? Why can’t you just stay by his side, try again with him, as your friends keep suggesting you should? Why are you running away? Why is your chest so tight as you glance behind you to see Jungkook still looking your way, eyes glittering with disappointment?
You find the answer much sooner than you expected.
It’s in the middle of deep winter, and you’re feeling better than ever, with your ice flowing free from your fingers, and Jungkook’s fire’s wavering on the brink of fading. The cold weather is doing wonders for your relationship, since you don’t mind sitting beside him in class nearly so much now. But maybe he minds a lot more. He’s always shivering when you’re around. Or maybe he’s shivering all the time, but you never get to see.
Still, he’s wearing your scarf wherever he goes, helping him to combat the cold, and despite the January frost, it makes your heart glow warm, knowing the gift is appreciated.
At this rate, maybe you’ll even get to apologise properly, and let him know you don’t hate him. Maybe today will be the day.
As you leave class after him, you run to catch up, calling his name, and when he turns to wait for you, maybe it’s just your imagination, but his expression seems warmer than usual. “What is it?”
You pull on the sleeves of your school uniform, feeling heat fanning across your face. “I was just… thinking we could walk to our next class together, since my other friends don’t take Elemental Control.”
“Is this because you hate being alone?” he asks teasingly, remembering the last time you tried and failed to apologise, but his voice is gentler than normal.
You want to bite back with sarcasm, but under his dark eyes, you can only give a soft, “Maybe…”
“Alright then,” he turns around and begins to walk towards your next class, slowing his steps to let you fall in pace beside him.
You glance across to his profile as you walk, his eyes fixed forward, brows scrunched, and chin tucked under the folds of your scarf, now his scarf.
“So you’re still wearing this?” you grab one of the tassels of the scarf, flapping free by his side.
He looks down to your hand, holding the faded material. “Yeah… well, it’s cold and you said I could have it, so?”
You let it go, leaving it to flutter by his side, “So nothing. I’m glad it was useful.”
Jungkook shoots you a peculiar look. “Have you caught the winter flu or something?”
“Why? Do I look sick?”
“Well… just… you’re never normally this nice. Or civil. I though you must be pretty out of it to be talking to me like this. You do realise you’re talking to Jungkook, fire-tamer, ice-melter, life ruiner?”
You bit down on your lip, feeling your cheeks burning, like Jungkook’s flames have infected your skin. “Sorry… is this weird?”
“Yes, it’s a little weird!” His eyes widen, brows raised. He looks like a startled bunny. Cute. No. Not cute.
“Well, I can be mean again, if you’d prefer that,” you huff, “But… I’m getting a little tired of hating you to be honest.”
“Now I know you’re ill,” Jungkook mutters.
You wish the walk to class wasn’t quite so long, this is getting increasingly awkward for both of you, and if your face gets any redder you might actually combust on the spot. Crunching to a halt, you ball your hands into fists, tangling your fingers in your jumper sleeves. “Listen, you don’t need to hang around me if it’s making you so uncomfortable. I was just trying to be nice, but clearly it’s not working.”
You steer your gaze down to the ground, not wanting to look at Jungkook any longer. It’s just making you feel worse, seeing him blinking at you, black eyes confused, lips pink and parted.
But you can’t hold your resolve for long, and weakly, you raise your eyes again, expecting him to be gone – to have bolted out of there the second you gave him the chance – but he’s still there, eyes dazzling when they meet yours.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, “It’s hard trying to be nice to each other after fighting for so long, huh?”
You nod, voice lost with your throat constricting. You don’t know if you’re angry with him, or hurt, or if the thrumming in your chest is a symptom of something else.
“I’m sorry for making fun of you when you tried to be nice,” Jungkook continues, “And sorry for winding you up all the time.”
Your voice wobbles slightly when you open your mouth again. Even though ice flowers are blooming on the window panes beside you, with the winter weather strengthening your powers, you still feel weak next to Jungkook, like you could melt into a pile of slush. “Hey! I was trying to work up the courage to apologise and you just come out and say it like it’s nothing? Give me a chance to be the bigger person, why don’t you!”
Jungkook cracks a smile at you, with your lips pouted, brows furrowing a line on your forehead. “Sorry, I figured you wanted to apologise, so I thought I’d make it easier for you…”
At that second, before you can respond, the alarms on the wall by you go off, and your frown melts off your face, replaced with panic. “What’s this for?”
“It’s probably only a drill,” Jungkook soothes, his voice just reaching you over the wailing alarm.
But you know the sound of that siren. It’s not the kind they use for regular emergencies, like fires. It’s an alarm calling for a full lockdown of the school. Which means - if it’s not a drill, which it might be, please let it be a drill - that someone’s gone rouge. Sometimes, rarely thankfully, students will discover another use for their powers besides helping and improving, using their talents against the people around them, to hurt and maim and destroy. Powers aren’t meant to be weapons. But some use them that way. And when they do, it means danger for all involved. And unlike other alarms, where there’s a designated procedure for escaping, with the school in lockdown all you can do is find the nearest space and hide!
Fear chokes you, slithering down your throat to squeeze at your heart.
You’re vaguely aware of Jungkook shouting at you above the alarms, but you can’t make him out, until you feel his fingers slotting around yours, and he’s tugging you along, pulling you down the corridor, filled with students, some shouting, some looking calm.
Still Jungkook tugs you along, and as your brain begins to kick back to life, you squeeze his hand tighter, not wanting to lose him in the crowd. He seems to know what he’s doing. And if you lose him, you’ll only worry all the more.
He pulls you to the nearest door, which just so happens to be a store room, filled with the janitor’s cleaning supplies. You help him pull some heavy boxes in front of the door, and you both collapse down on the other side with your hideaway safely barricaded.
In the small space your breath is ragged, and your eyes are wide. On this side of the door the alarm doesn’t sound so loud, melding with your shuddering gasps as you struggle to grasp more oxygen.
“What now?” you ask, swallowing air and adrenaline.
“We wait,” Jungkook tells you, “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about. Maybe they set off the alarm off on accident… or maybe it’s just a drill… I doubt it’s actually... you know... a rouge.”
But his words don’t stop you from continuing to shiver, jagged movements racking through your body. You breathe out billows of frozen air, as your gift begins to well up, spilling over to chill the air, belying the flurrying emotions below your cold skin.
“Hey,” Jungkook edges a little closer, “It’s going to be okay!” He reaches out a hand to touch you, only to snap away again from your frozen skin. “You need to calm down.” You hear a slight shake in his voice somewhere past the haze of your own panic, as ice spreads out across the floor around you, crackling towards Jungkook.
“Stop that,” he stands, feet avoiding the ice, like it will burn him. Maybe it will.
“I’m sorry!” you shake your head, uselessly, “I can’t help it!” You bite down on a gulp when you realise how hypocritical that sounds, as your mind flashes through all the times that you got furious at Jungkook’s fire flaring with his emotions. And here you are, doing the same thing, and hurting him the same way he hurt you. “I’m sorry,” you repeat again, hoping that it’s enough, knowing nothing ever will be. You deserves all the anger you anticipate, predicting Jungkook spilling malice towards you, the same way you would when his flames burst forth with his passions.
But rather than getting angry at you, the way you wish he would, Jungkook steps across the ice, and reaches out his hand again, his touch light on your shoulders as he crouches down in front of you. “Listen to me. You can help it. Don’t let it consume you. We’re going to be okay. This is just a drill, and we’re going to be okay.”
Through your jumper, you can feel his hands, warm and comforting, like the final embers of a fire that wink at you as you drift to sleep by the fireplace.
“But what if it’s not a drill?”
“If it’s not a drill, then we’ll protect each other.”
You take a deep breath, gulping back the icy air you’re responsible for creating, flakes of frost melting against your tongue. “You’ll protect me? After all I did to you?”
“Of course.” Jungkook rubs at your shoulder to warm it, and the ice below his hands begins to thaw. “Didn’t we apologise to each other just a few minutes ago? Doesn’t that make us friends? Besides… Jimin and Taehyung will be upset if I let you die.”
“And you wouldn’t be upset?”
Jungkook laughs, relieved to hear your sarcastic tone finally return, “I’d be upset too. I’d cry loads. Life would be really boring without you!”
You push a smile past your freezing lips, giving in to Jungkook’s warmth. “Thank you.”
His cheeks pink, he pulls his hands away as the air around you wobbles back to room-temperature again.
“Yeah… whatever, don’t get too sappy with me, or I might actually think you love me.”
You give in to a pout, ready to argue, until your heart gives a jump, and you wonder if there’s truth to his words.
Love? You poke the word around in your brain, testing out how it feels. Love. Maybe…
Without you snapping back a retort, Jungkook gives an awkward laugh. “But that’d be weird, right?”
You want to argue with him, give a snarky response, kick the idea down to the dust, but your mind and tongue are tangled and you can’t do anything but stare back at him – at his dark eyes, sparkling curiously in the dull light of the storage room, at his pink lips, slightly blued from the ice that’s only just left the air, at his deep tan skin, starting to lose it’s golden hues as the sun hides it’s face away for winter, and you can’t honestly say you hate him anymore. Or that you even like him.
Because you love him.
Now that’s a scary thought.
“You don’t love me, do you?” Jungkook asks.
You take a breath. “What if I said I did?”
Jungkook doesn’t have a counter prepared for that. His lips part, breath ghosting out on the last trails of your frost. Maybe that’s why his cheeks are so pink. Maybe it’s just the cold.
You worry your lip with your teeth. You shouldn’t have said that. You should have just given the expected answer “Of course I hate you!” But you’re tired of that – so tired. And you’re desperate for things to be different.
Maybe this was the wrong way to ask for change, with a rushed confession and a baited breath.
But then Jungkook opens his mouth; you see his adam’s apple moving while his swallows. “If you said you did… then maybe I’d say it back.”
That wasn’t meant to happen. He wasn’t meant to love you. After all, you don’t deserve him, not after the way you’ve treated him, always so cruel, so cutting with your words. He was meant to strike you down, punish you for all you’d ever done with the simple words “I don’t love you back.”
But no, he had to say it, stretch out those so important words in the empty space between you.
“Well then…” you voice comes out little more than a whisper, barely audible above the dulled alarms ringing outside your and Jungkook’s confined world, filled with fire and ice, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
At that moment, the alarms stop. Cut off. Your ears are left ringing with the empty nothingness of silence.
Was it bad timing? Or good timing? Before you can say anything else, Jungkook is getting up to move the boxes from the door and the moment has passed.
You watch as Jungkook opens the door, and daylight pours in to interrupt the artificial light of the store room.
“Come on,” Jungkook offers you his hand to help you up, totally normal, as if you hadn’t just confessed a few seconds before.
“Is it safe?”
“They wouldn’t cut off the alarm if it wasn’t.”
You allow Jungkook to loop his hand around yours, and pull you to your feet, leading you out into the light, blinking.
As soon as you step outside, you’re bombarded by a set of arms around you, and you don’t need to look to know it’s Taehyung – the smell of earth and catnip gives the animal-talker away every time.
“I’m so happy!” he laughs into your ear, as you ask, muffled into his shoulder:
“What? Why?”
“You finally did it!”
“Did what?” You pull back to stare at your friend, with brows furrowed in confusion.
“Apologised to Jungkook!” he says, as if it’s obvious, drawing out the words long and slow.
Your eyes widen, wondering how he could possibly know that, until the mystery is solved with Jimin suddenly appearing beside you, melting out of the shadows, and not for the first time you find yourself cursing your friend’s ability to turn invisible.
“They did a lot more than apologise, Tae,” Jimin says.
Taehyung pulls away from you to gape at your friend, “More? More what? What did they do?”
“Jimin!” you accuse before he can open his mouth and spill, “You were using your gifts to eavesdrop, weren’t you!”
Jimin’s gaze fixes guiltily on the floor, “Maybe…” His plump lips quirk in a smile, as you let out an overdramatic gasp.
“Don’t be mad,” Taehyung begs, “We just wanted our two best friends to get along…”
Slowly, the whole story begins to click into place for you.
“Taehyung… did you ask your father to have a lockdown drill?”
He nods his head sheepishly. “I knew you and Jungkook would be in class together now, so I asked my dad to set the alarms off. I just wanted you to have some time together so you could apologise properly, you know? Without the possibility of either of you running away. You said that’s what you wanted. You’re not mad, are you?”
You blow out a breath, not sure whether to laugh or scold. You glance over to Jungkook, who, somehow, despite you being attacked by a hug from Taehyung, has managed to keep his hand in yours, and you can’t help but smile. No, you’re not mad.
Well, not until Jimin announces:
“Tae… you’ll never guess what! They actually confessed their love while they were alone together! It was so cute!”
“Park Jimin!” you screech, “I cannot believe you!” He gives a sheepish smile, and before you can tell him off, runs back down the corridor.
With Taehyung following after him, laughing and whooping, you make to chase them, but with Jungkook’s hand still tangled in your own, it’s hard to follow. You turn back to find the fire-tamer smiling at you.
Right. You have a lot more important things to worry about than your friends’ questionable peace-making tactics. Important things like Jungkook’s broad chest that hasn’t been hugged yet. Important things like Jungkook soft lips that haven’t been kissed yet. Right. You can get back at Jimin and Taehyung later. For now, Jungkook, warm like fire and cool like ice, is the only one you want to see.
author’s note: I’m so so so sorry that this was posted late! Uni’s been really hectic lately! I’m working hard to get back into a good routine with writing, so hopefully I’ll get back to posting more regularly soon! For now, please bear with me! 
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