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baleriontheblackkitten · 1 month ago

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A Game of Thrones - Daenerys I

Ah, Dany! A thirteen year old girl who owns nothing, not even herself, and will go on a crusade to allow other people to own themselves. A meek, frightened creature who only wishes for a simple, normal life where she can be free to just be, who will embrace leadership not because of the glamour of it, but because she wants to make the world a better place for the people who have nothing just like she had nothing.

A part of her will always long, deep down, for that simple normal life with no pressures and no responsibilities. But that's not an option for her - or it doesn't seem that it could ever be - because she is the blood of the dragon, the culmination of a long line of people cursed by prophecy, saddled with a responsibility that's a double edged-sword. Prophecy allowed them to survive the Doom of Valyria, but they swapped that doom for another doom, the poison that came with being the leaders of Westeros.

Dany is what is left of that, just like the Targaryen house were what was left of the entirety of Valyria. And with being the survivor comes the weight of destiny.

But this is really soon to discuss all of that lol. We're just meeting little scared Dany. But actually even this very first chapter already features what she desires, what she truly wishes for herself, although she knows it could never happen: be one of the common people around her, carefree, just allowed to be themselves and live their lives. My ideal endgame for Dany would be for her to eventually retire from leadership, after achieving the closest thing to a lasting condition of peace and freedom for her people. But we'll talk about this later on...

Viserys! Believe it or not, he's one of my favorite minor characters. Not in the sense that I like him as a person, but because the more I think about him, the more I want to chew on glass. It's easy to look at his abuse of Dany and dismiss him as just an asshole, but he's such a tragic character, and when you really think about it, he never really had a choice to become anything but his bitter, cruel self. Just like he never really had any choice at all, a plaything in the schemes of powerful men. And when you learn that he was never intended to be reinstated as king - when it all clicks into place, when Illyrio's weird, risky plans are revealed to be perfectly reasonable as Viserys was never supposed to get out of his Dothraki adventure alive, when you realize that Viserys was a decoy and was fed lies and delusions his entire life - his story becomes horrific.

His story becomes the story of a boy who lost everything - his family, his home, his things, his sense in the world - and was used, trapped inside a golden cage of lies, for the power games of other men, until his role in the game was done and he was discarded.

And you wonder how much he believed in the delusions because he was arrogant and conceited and stupid, and how much he had to believe in the delusions, how much he made himself believe because he had no alternative to survive. Is he bitter because the Usurper took everything away from him? Or is he bitter because he knows, deep down, that the promises of helping him get the Iron throne back are false? That he has no allies, really, and has no chances and no choices? Is he bitter because he has no hope, no matter how much he forces himself to believe the empty promises and the lies?

And his behavior towards Dany is so very human. He has control over nothing - nothing except his little sister. She is the only thing he can exert control over, and of course he'll direct the anger that stems from his grief and powerlessness over her. And the sexual abuse of her is somewhat justified in the logic of his world, a world where marital rape is not recognized: all his life he and Dany have lived under the assumption that they were going to marry. Viserys sees her as his future sister-wife, expecting they would officially get married when she would be older, or maybe when they'd get back to Westeros to celebrate the wedding there. It's quite natural for him to see her body as his propriety… and it gets sad when you realize that his concept of what a husband-wife relationship is like comes from his parents' relationship. His behavior with Dany is modeled after Aerys' behavior with Rhaella, and how could it be any different?

This, of course, doesn't mean I justify Viserys' abuse. Dany's journey of learning to stand up to him is glorious! He is a trash excuse for a human being, but a trash excuse for a human being that is the result of a tragedy.

Alright, let's actually look at the chapter now.

For the first time we leave the North, and we leave the Seven Kingdoms entirely… but only physically, because the Seven Kingdoms haunt the Targeryen siblings, and the Targaryens subtly haunt the Seven Kingdoms, even if the current regime would not want you to think too hard about it.

Her brother held the gown up for her inspection. “This is beauty. Touch it. Go on. Caress the fabric.�� Dany touched it. The cloth was so smooth that it seemed to run through her fingers like water. She could not remember ever wearing anything so soft. It frightened her. She pulled her hand away. “Is it really mine?”

Oh the irony. Dany frightened by soft fabric that feels smooth like water, she who will walk into fire and ride dragon scales. Of course it's not the fabric itself that scares her: she is intimidated by the luxuriousness of something she does not feel adequate for. Worth of.

Is it really mine, she asks: she's a girl who has never owned anything. The idea of owning something, especially something valuable, is alien to her. We'll learn soon that she's never even owned herself - her own brother is selling her. She's his propriety until she becomes another man's propriety.

There's an additional layer to the "is it really mine" line, because the dress is meant for her, but it's not hers. Viserys calls it a gift, but Dany understands what Magister Illyrio's gifts are. Dany was thirteen, old enough to know that such gifts seldom come without their price, here in the free city of Pentos.

She's supposed to play the part of a princess. Which… she is, but she's never been. The little sister of the beggar king. At this point, the fact that she comes from a line of kings, that royal blood runs in her veins, that dragon blood runs in her veins, mean nothing for her. Her brother is the dragon, the rightful king, she's just a girl.

“Illyrio is no fool,” Viserys said. He was a gaunt young man with nervous hands and a feverish look in his pale lilac eyes. “The magister knows that I will not forget my friends when I come into my throne.” Dany said nothing. Magister Illyrio was a dealer in spices, gemstones, dragonbone, and other, less savory things. He had friends in all of the Nine Free Cities, it was said, and even beyond, in Vaes Dothrak and the fabled lands beside the Jade Sea. It was also said that he’d never had a friend he wouldn’t cheerfully sell for the right price. Dany listened to the talk in the streets, and she heard these things, but she knew better than to question her brother when he wove his webs of dream. His anger was a terrible thing when roused. Viserys called it “waking the dragon.”

Dany is perfectly aware of the reality of their situation. She seriously doubts that her brother is ever going to be reinstated as king in Westeros. She thinks of Viserys' ideas as "webs of dream". She knows. Does he? Sure, he doesn't seem to mingle with common people and hear what they say like Dany is said to. I can imagine him living in his own bubble. But how realistic is it for him to live constantly inside a bubble, when they've spent thirteen years moving around Essos, living off the hospitality of others? I personally don't think he's that naive or stupid. I think that his naiveté is a survival tactic - he's hanging off a thread. If he were to accept the reality that his dreams are futile… he would just shatter. Which is what happens to him with the Dothraki, after all.

He is also full of contradictions - right now he seems overjoyed at the prospect of gaining an army through selling Dany to Khal Drogo. He later tells her he'd glady have her fucked by Khal Drogo's entire army and their horses if that means he gets his army. But we'll later learn that he has a breakdown over it, that he tries to get Dany's maidenhood before Khal Drogo does… He just seems detatched from reality in a way that is definitely not mentally sound. He wants the army that will gain him Westeros… but that's hardly real to him. What's real is Dany's body.

Dany could hear the singing of the red priests as they lit their night fires and the shouts of ragged children playing games beyond the walls of the estate. For a moment she wished she could be out there with them, barefoot and breathless and dressed in tatters, with no past and no future and no feast to attend at Khal Drogo’s manse.

Oh Dany's wistful dreams of a life as a nobody who has nothing but is free! This will return, when she wistfully half-wishes that she was not the blood of the dragon, that she did not carry the weight of the responsibilities that come with that. No past and no future - no ancient prophecy, no destiny, no intergenerational curse, no dragon dreams, no responsibility to save the world. She doesn't even know about all of this yet, all she knows is that she has a role to play as her brother's sister, foreshadowing of her promised role as the last Targaryen.

“Our land,” he called it. The words were like a prayer with him. If he said them enough, the gods were sure to hear. “Ours by blood right, taken from us by treachery, but ours still, ours forever. You do not steal from the dragon, oh, no. The dragon remembers.” And perhaps the dragon did remember, but Dany could not.

She does not feel like a dragon yet...

Yet sometimes Dany would picture the way it had been, so often had her brother told her the stories.

In Bran's chapter, he mentions with affection how their father tells them stories of the age of heroes and the children of the forest. In Dany's case, it's her brother that has the role of storyteller in her life, and who's so passionate about the stories that Dany can visualize them perfectly.

We are also presented for the first time the story of Robert's rebellion from the other perspective. From the first chapters, the reader would be ready to accept the Starks and their friends as the good guys. Ironically, Ned himself will have a journey of coming to terms with the fact that his friend Robert is not the hero he liked to think him as...

There's a little detail I didn't remember from my first read - that Dany was born nine months after her mother and brother fled King's Landing for Dragonstone. Meaning, by the time the Rebellion started, no one even knew of her existence. Heck, she didn't exist yet, and was conceived at the last moment, while the Usurper's armies were already moving towards King's Landing. It also gives Rhaella and Viserys nine excruciating months in Dragonstone as the Rebellion rages on, and then Rhaella dies in childbirth, and then the garrison on Dragonstone decides to hand the children to Robert (and meet the same fate as Elia's children), except a handful of loyalists save them and bring them to Braavos. How terrifying must have all of that been for Viserys?

They had wandered since then, from Braavos to Myr, from Myr to Tyrosh, and on to Qohor and Volantis and Lys, never staying long in any one place. Her brother would not allow it. The Usurper’s hired knives were close behind them, he insisted, though Dany had never seen one.

Oof, Dany sort of doubts the reason they were always moving being fleeing from assassins. More like, they were guests, and their welcome in the house of each host would end after a while. Then again, I'm sure that Robert's hired knives were an actual danger for a while at least (the fact that when Dany gets pregnant he wants to send assassins after her suggests that there were no assassins after her at that point, which suggests that a number of years into his reign, his power solidified at that point, the Targaryen kids no longer left that dangerous and no longer worth wasting money for.)

What will be Dany's reaction when she learns that Viserys and herself were the decoys, waved around Essos for Robert's assassins to chase after, while the actual person who was meant to be reinstated on the throne was a different, secret boy? It doesn't even matter if Aegon is an actual Targaryen or not. If I were Dany I would be aghast of what was done to her and especially her brother, fed false promises while another boy was raised to be king.

In another passage it is said that the final nail in Viserys' mental state was selling their mother's crown, the very last thing they had left. I wonder who bought it. Some rich Essosi that just liked the idea of owning a unique item, or maybe that just liked a pretty crown. Or maybe someone who bought it with a more specific goal? Will this crown ever reappear in the story? Probably not, it just represents how the "beggar king" had to give everything away and lost even the last link to his mother and family history. Still, I wonder where it is.

Viserys wants the Seven Kingdoms and the royal wealth back. Dany just wants her childhood back. But really, they both want the same thing. The Seven Kingdoms and the silks and jewels are Viserys' lost childhood.

Slaves come to get Dany ready. "There was no slavery in the free city of Pentos. Nonetheless, they were slaves." Such a little but powerful line.

They filled her bath with hot water brought up from the kitchen and scented it with fragrant oils. The girl pulled the rough cotton tunic over Dany’s head and helped her into the tub. The water was scalding hot, but Daenerys did not flinch or cry out. She liked the heat. It made her feel clean. Besides, her brother had often told her that it was never too hot for a Targaryen. “Ours is the house of the dragon,” he would say. “The fire is in our blood.”

Ehe. Also the first mention of the "cleaning" effect of heat, like the purifying dragonfire that she'll dream about later. Dany, her dragons, and fire are purifying forces in the narrative, burning away corruption and metaphorical dirt and rot.

Her journey will be a journey to understand that fully, to realize that her dragons are not mere weapons of destruction and death - destruction can be good if what you destroy is bad, and heat is life.

Love the golden collar imagery.

A princess, she thought, but she remembered what the girl had said, how Khal Drogo was so rich even his slaves wore golden collars. She felt a sudden chill, and gooseflesh pimpled her bare arms.

She is being sold as a slave, and while Drogo's slaves do not actually wear golden collars, her golden collar represents that she is property of men, who are exchanging her like an object.

It's also sad how the worldview she's been taught sees her future husband as a savage, while her own blood is the pure, precious blood of her Valyria, and how this union contradicts what Viserys has always told her. Viserys is obviously disgusted by the idea of a "savage" having her, and yet he's selling her... it was not his mother's crown that was the last thing he ever owned, it's her sister. Now he's selling the last link to his Targaryen ancestry, his only family member left. It's no wonder he has a breakdown.

“The realm will rise for its rightful king. Tyrell, Redwyne, Darry, Greyjoy, they have no more love for the Usurper than I do. The Dornishmen burn to avenge Elia and her children. And the smallfolk will be with us. They cry out for their king.” He looked at Illyrio anxiously. “They do, don’t they?”

So confident he acts, but he's not. Funnily enough, while it's not true that the smallfolk are ardently waiting for his return, he is not wrong about many noble houses not having any love for the current regime, and definitely not wrong about the Dornish.

Dany knows that Illyrio's words are false. It's not like the truth about his plans will come as a surprise to her - she already can tell there's no actual plan to reinstate Viserys as king. But she does not know the extent of that falseness yet.

Dany noticed that her brother’s hand was clenched tightly around the hilt of his borrowed sword. He looked almost as frightened as she felt.

Funnily enough, what's scarying Viserys right now specifically is an Unsullied.

Dany is represented right away as living in a world of slavers and slaves, one where the line between free and enslaved is sometimes clear and obvious, sometimes thin and ambiguous. She is not considered a slave, she has slaves taking care of her, but she belongs to other people. They call her a princess, but she's being sold.

Daenerys looked at them all in wonder … and realized, with a sudden start of fear, that she was the only woman there.

Say whatever you want about GRRM, but I appreciate him including this very specific feeling.

We're now introduced to ser Jorah Mormont, a sudden link to Westeros that distracts Dany from her current fears.

The irony of ser Jorah's past is obvious - he has left Westeros because he dabbled in slave trade, to eventually end in the service of a girl whose mission will be to end slavery. But this bit offers us some little further insight about this world and slavery.

“The Usurper wanted his head,” Illyrio told them. “Some trifling affront. He sold some poachers to a Tyroshi slaver instead of giving them to the Night’s Watch. Absurd law. A man should be able to do as he likes with his own chattel.”

Of course Illyrio, a slaver, has a slaver perspective. For him, it's normal to sell human beings and there's nothing wrong about participating in the slave market. But this line gives us an additional layer: from the perspective of a foreigner, the Night's Watch is made of slaves. Criminals get caught and handed to the Night's Watch - so what difference does it make if the nobleman under whose autority they were caught chooses to give them to someone else?

This leads us to make some reflections. A man sworn to the Night's Watch cannot leave it, lest he is sentenced to death - like a slave who runs away from his master. Technically one chooses to join the Night's Watch, but it's obvious that that's a façade for most. There's men to pick the Night's Watch over being sentenced for a crime, there's boys from noble houses with too many heirs.

And yet it would be incorrect to call the Night's Watch a form of slavery, as its members are not chattel. This is where Illyrio is wrong - nobody in Westeros is chattel, even though the living circumstances of some look similar to a slave's in the eyes of an external observer.

And yet, the men of the Night's Watch are not free men at all. Not coincidentally their narrative foil is the free folk... in whose eyes, all Westerosi are slaves. Of their lords, of their king. All Westerosi bend the knee to someone else.

That, I assume, will be the final challenge of Dany's journey, where her journey will meet Jon's.

Let's get back to where we were. We also meet Khal Drogo, who looks younger than Dany expected him to be, and a quite impressive looking man. Viserys calls him "Aegon the Dragonlord come again" which is another sign of his mental system of contradictions. The man whose queen the Targaryen princess is going to be, must be some kind of Targaryen king. And yet Viserys is the Targaryen king, he's supposed to be the new Aegon here, but he's not.

“I don’t want to be his queen,” she heard herself say in a small, thin voice. “Please, please, Viserys, I don’t want to, I want to go home.” “Home!” He kept his voice low, but she could hear the fury in his tone. “How are we to go home, sweet sister? They took our home from us!” He drew her into the shadows, out of sight, his fingers digging into her skin. “How are we to go home?” he repeated, meaning King’s Landing, and Dragonstone, and all the realm they had lost. Dany had only meant their rooms in Illyrio’s estate, no true home surely, though all they had, but her brother did not want to hear that. There was no home there for him. Even the big house with the red door had not been home for him.

Dany has no home, Viserys does, and that's the tragedy of each of them. Viserys longs for a home he's lost, Dany longs for a home she's never had. His home is a strange place for her that she's never seen, the places she's ever felt at home in have always been strange places for Viserys that he's never felt at home in.

Her brother orders her to smile and stand up straight, and

Daenerys smiled, and stood up straight.

For the entire chapter, in her inner monologue, she's been Dany. Now she becomes Daenerys, almost a character for Viserys' sake. She is not Daenerys Targaryen yet, she is not the blood of the dragon yet. She is a girl that plays the part of the Targaryen princess for other people's sakes. Her journey in this book is a journey of becoming Daenerys Targaryen for her own sake - no longer a character she is forced to play, but her most authentic self.

#marghe re reads asoiaf #my asoiaf thoughts #asoiaf meta #agot #agot - daenerys i #asoiaf

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lacerta123 · 2 months ago

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The Twelve Kingdoms is one of those animes that deserves more love. Sure, it’s ugly by todays standards, but it has some of the best world and character building I’ve ever seen. The isekai genre usually uses its premise to seamlessly introduce the audience to its fantasy world. The protagonist doesn’t know anything, so the audience can learn the ropes alongside them, seeing through their eyes. The Twelve Kingdoms, on the other hand, wants a rocky, painful introduction to its world. Yoko is hurled into the world with no explanations, where she is a part of a hated underclass and being actively hunted by the highest power in the land. The show goes to great lengths to stick you in her shoes. Not short of making a whole conlang, so that you feel just as confused as she does. No kidding, when I was first watching Twelve Kingdoms I thought that the sub I was using was just not translating some Japanese words, expecting me to be weeb enough to get it. But no. Those are words for concepts that can’t be translated into Japanese by Yoko’s innate knowledge of the new language (and were never meant to be understood by the audience, or Yoko.) In addition to the conlang confusion, the show goes out of its way to explain nothing. Why is Yoko the chosen one, and for what is she chosen? Why are they being attacked, and by who? Who was that white haired guy who swore fealty to her and what does he want? Why does he turn into a unicorn, get blood dumped on him, and then get kidnapped? Actually, that whole scene where Keiki gets kidnapped would make a lot more sense if it was a flashback later on in the show. Yoko doesn’t even see that event- it’s presented in its chronological place solely to be a confusing wtf moment. All of this confusion works together to make you, the audience, empathize with how scared and out of place Yoko feels. The girl can’t even feel safe in her own body- she gets genetically rewritten, can speak a new language, and has a goo monster living in her now. She doesn’t get an explanation as to why any of this is happening and it’s painful.

It’s important for the show to make you empathize with Yoko, because she’s not going to be doing any “likeable character” work for a little bit. She starts out as a very weak person, who’s thrust into a leadership role by virtue of being the only one who can speak the language, and she does a terrible job. Her friend group dissolves into infighting. She’s too limp wristed to make good decisions. And she ends up alone. The series explores how her upbringing surrounded by sexism has damaged her. Her self image is that of being a good woman, a good girl who doesn’t hurt others. But when she learns her friend genuinely hates her, that she has hurt them, that self image is shattered. Betrayal after betrayal by the world, and Yoko accepts that hurting people is the only way to get by. And if she can’t be that acceptable good woman, then the world has no place for her, and she doesn’t owe it anything either. She has no confidence that she is strong enough in her own identity to exist outside of acceptable womanhood. So she stops being acceptable all together. She gives up on learning anything new, gives up on learning with the world, and resorts to violence to force her way. The series throws you and Yoko down into this hellish world so that it can break Yoko down to her lowest point.

So Twelve kingdoms is a confusing show with an unlikable protagonist, you may be thinking? Why do you want me to watch this? Because the payoff is wonderful. Do you remember Rising of the Shield Hero? Yoko’s like the Shield Hero, but the betrayal that makes her give up on society is xenophobia from that society. And the solution to resolve her disillusionment is receiving kindness and grace from a denizen of the new world who is equally disenfranchised. So Twelve Kingdoms is Shield Hero, if it was actually good. Yoko gets reminded of her common humanity, and slowly comes out of her funk. She starts learning about the world again and realizes that there is a way out of her current predicament- she can escape to a country that’s less racist. She begins to feel genuinely thankful for the people who have gotten her this far. She draws a line of acceptability for herself, that she won’t cross for her own sake. This show lets you watch Yoko become a person. She decides that even though she doesn’t know why she’s here, she values herself and the people around her, and that’s enough to live with purpose. It’s a really good character arc, and it reminds me of one of my all time favorites, Yona of the Dawn.

Once Yoko gets to this level of confidence, she becomes ready to learn. And finally, the show teaches you the conlang. It’s so satisfying to be able to understand what has happened up till now in retrospect. You even learn what happened with that weird guy who turned into a unicorn and got kidnapped. The chaos of the first episode gets reframed into an unfortunate event in history, brought about by subterfuge and political intrigue. And that’s how the rest of the story is framed too. The Twelve Kingdoms is a historical record of what happens within the twelve kingdoms, and Yoko, though she didn’t know it at first, is now a player on the historical stage. The series won’t focus on her so closely from here on out. It instead examines other historical events and characters that surround her. She is no longer the protagonist, instead the Twelve Kingdoms themselves are. Is this a plot twist? Whatever it is, there is only one word that I can describe it with, and that is “grand.” Every heart wrenching struggle Yoko delt with up till now could be summed up with no more than a single sentence in the tombs of history. And The Twelve Kingdoms is history, with all the vastness it entails. If worldbuilding is the art of making a world feel big, then there can be no finer examples than the Twelve Kingdoms.

#the twelve kingdoms #no spoilers #kinda no spoilers #anime review #anime recommendation #Yoko

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dr-futbol-blog · 4 months ago

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Letters from Pegasus, Pt. 5

Still very much stuck on the planet that is under the attack from the wraith, Teyla and Sheppard continue their conversation. Teyla is having qualms about Sheppard's apparent callousness with regards to her 'dear friend' Orin, and she even revisits their earlier discussion about taking the ZPM from the defenseless children of Childhood's End (S01E05). While Sheppard said nothing for or against this plan back in the meeting, he does at least seem to want to back Ford up in this (as well as McKay, who saw the merit of Ford's suggestion at the time):

Sheppard: Look, Ford and I are military. We've spent a lot of our lives learning how to survive. Teyla: I have spent my life surviving the Wraith. Sheppard: Part of that training is knowing who you can save and who you can't. Teyla: And that decision is yours alone? Sheppard: I said that I'd wait for your friend if there was time. Now there's time. What else do you want from me? Teyla: Too much, I fear. Sheppard: It's gonna be a long night.

We are once more reminded of the fact that Sheppard very much does not want to be spending his night on this planet, he would rather be home. While he says they now have time to wait for her friend, he's not actually waiting for him but is waiting for a chance to leave. But more importantly, it is emphasized that Sheppard is bound by the rules and regulations of the military even when they might go against his own personal moral code. He told Weir that he sometimes sees things a little different, and to be sure, he does. But those rules exist for a reason and he has experienced first-hand that nothing good will come out of going against them--much to the contrary. He has had to pay a high price for the calls he has made going against orders.

While McKay was musing about leadership back home, Sheppard seems to be doing the very same thing here, in the privacy of his own thoughts. In the meeting Weir had said "As long as I am in charge," as she made a call against Sheppard's recommendation--the recommendation of the military commander of the expedition on the eve of impending attack. During a siege she is not the one that should be in charge. In military matters, Sheppard is the one with the highest and final authority. And when he is the one that is called upon to take the leadership role--and he should have done it already--the decision is his alone, as is the responsibility. It is a heavy burden. Sheppard, for one, could actually use some of McKay's thoughts on the topic in the current moment.

Sheppard tells her that a part of their training is knowing who you can save and who you can't. He has personally learned the hard way that not everyone can be saved, no matter how you feel about them or how ever much you try. But what ever he tells her, what ever his training might have taught him to do, he would never not try to rescue someone he cared about. What he told Teyla about not jeopardizing the mission for someone he cared about was a flat out lie. Trying and failing is still easier to live with than not having even tried. However, these people are strangers to him and he has someone he cares about that he needs to protect back home. He is not disagreeing with Teyla so much as he's desperate to do the same thing she is doing for someone that he actually cares about himself.

And yet he can only sit in the jumper, watching the wraith wreak havoc on this planet:

Sheppard: This is hard to sit and watch. Teyla: There's nothing we can do. Sheppard: We could do a lot. It'd just be the last thing we'd ever do.

He is forcing himself to stay put, we are told, because he has important intel to get back to Atlantis. However, you can see him physically react to Teyla saying that the gate is inaccessible which once more lets us know that he is anxious to get back home. And at the same time on Atlantis, Bates tells the camera: "I'm gonna miss you, kiddo. I can't wait to get back home."

Between McKay's two messages, "We will do our best to stave off their attack but I am afraid that defeat is all but inevitable. I, and the other members of my team, face the most horrific deaths imaginable" and "The facts of our heroic struggle against the Wraith and our untimely demise are already known to you" Sheppard decides to leave the jumper to go check out something they have never seen previously, a solid beam of light rising from the planet's surface up to the hive. His reaction to the beam of light seems odd because just earlier, he was all for staying put and making sure they get to take the intel they have back to Atlantis with them. However, his motivation for doing this is lampshaded by McKay in his message: "My extensive education, training and first-hand experience in the field of astrophysics has given me a unique perspective that few on Earth or, well, on any other planet for that matter, can match."

As he leaves, Sheppard tells Teyla that he will make a point of not being discovered, and he takes out the life-signs detector, using it in a very similar manner as he did during the Genii siege in The Eye (S01E10). He does have education, training, and first-hand experience of the wraith unmatched by many. He does have a unique perspective on both them and on how to be a leader. His philosophy is that he would never ask anyone to do anything that he would not be willing to do himself which, of course, is noble. He will not needlessly sacrifice the lives of people serving under him. But it's also partially borne from his inability to trust other people and from a twisted sense of "if you want something done, do it yourself" that may ultimately derive from his social background, his intelligence, and his natural aptitudes all having given him a sense of superiority toward the higher ups long before he ever joined the military.

McKay was also correct when he pointed out that Atlantis and the expedition seem to be facing inevitable destruction. Sheppard knew this for a fact the moment he saw their armada jump out of hyperspace. He needs to know what this thing is because if there's anything, anything that might give them any tactical advantage, he has to know about it. He is making damn sure that he will be able to get back home, though, because he has someone there that he wants to get back to, has a reason to want to get back safely. But at the same time, he also believes that his training will allow him to perform some guerilla tactics without being detected. And so, he has to check it out.

However, it is noteworthy that as soon as he's out there and recognizes the full extent of the danger they are in, he doesn't pursue it further. He doesn't go and do recon recklessly, he returns to the jumper the minute he realizes that he might be putting himself in jeopardy. And again, it's not out of concern for himself, it's not out of concern for getting the intel back to Atlantis (as there's a whole hell of a lot of intel he might have gathered getting closer to the mysterious beam). He's not putting himself needlessly in danger because he has a reason to want to get back.

This might seem like an odd side-quest if we don't appreciate his motivation. And this is not the last time as we approach the end of the season that we see him eschew doing something he might have done back when he still had nothing to lose which is interesting, as he's our heroic leading man. The fact that he refuses to do many things that a hero should do here but is perfectly willing to go above and beyond when the life of a certain someone is at stake, well. That just tells us a lot about his priorities.

So, he leaves off trying to get any more info on the mystery beam and returns to the jumper. You can see all of these thoughts play out on his face.

There is an interesting interlude in which a female scientist we have never seen previously but are lead to believe has worked under McKay this whole time is introduced. She is recording a video message to someone on Earth, we are not told who. Again, this is meant to be a humorous respite in the middle of the episode, making McKay into the butt-end of the joke, into a comic relief. She is giving a very earnest report of her time on Atlantis but the scene plays with juxtaposition, interspersing her lines with scenes of McKay in the lab as seen by her. So as we are told and shown two different things, it is this disparity between the two that creates the comedy. She tells us:

I am keeping busy with my job. I work hard, like everyone else, to ensure the success of this expedition and also to please the leader of our science team. He does not always remember my name, but I have enjoyed working for him very much. He's a very honourable and brave man. Until then, I will continue to serve at his pleasure.

In keeping with the theme of leadership in this episode, she acknowledges his position as her leader. While his leadership is presented in a comical light both in this scene and in the pastiche of his own messages (where it is the repetition of the concept that makes it comical, repetition being an essential comedic device) it is absolutely true that he is in the position of a leader and that he has taken this responsibility seriously; he has frequently even been willing to sacrifice his own life for the greater good. McKay has an occasionally abrasive personality and he rarely sugarcoats anything but he also works very hard and he does care about the people he is working with. He may not have all the qualities of a great person but he does have many qualities of a great leader. And it is only if we acknowledge his actual role as a leader that we get to contrast his leadership with those of Sheppard and Weir, the other members of the "senior staff".

Further, this woman clearly likes McKay. We are shown two scenes where McKay is less than considerate in her presence (if not toward her) but it is only a snap-shot of the time they must have spent in the lab together. She likes him, and it's entirely possible she has a crush on him. But we are once again reminded of the fact that McKay does not like women like that. She tells us that she will continue serving at his pleasure from which the scene cuts directly to McKay recounting his tale about getting very sick from kissing a girl. She says that he does not always remember her name (meaning that he does occasionally) but in this, she is no different from Zelenka (also, this is interesting in light of Sheppard's reaction to McKay calling him Major earlier on; everything she says here could be said by Sheppard about McKay).

It took McKay a while to start remembering Zelenka's name because the names of the people he works with are not nearly as important as what they are doing and what they are capable of doing. Because he is working with them, he sees these people as scientists and not people. They are instruments, very important and even vital instruments, and he respects them as such. Their names are irrelevant with regards to the quality of their work. Wasting time trying to remember someone's name in the face of impending doom is counter-productive. It isn't personal. It isn't that they are not important enough to remember. It is that his brain is better occupied with other things. She tells us that she has enjoyed working for him very much, which also does reveal us a lot about his character.

Most importantly, she describes him as an honourable and brave man. And again, when this is juxtaposed with the scene in his lab in which McKay has a cramp, we are meant to think that this is comedic. Of course McKay is not brave, he is defeated by his chair in a lab and could never survive out there on the battlefield. Of course he cannot be honourable because we are shown that he can also sometimes be petty as though the two are mutually exclusive. But we know that McKay is brave. John Sheppard certainly knows that McKay is brave. We have seen him stare down a villain that features in Sheppard's nightmares (literally, cf. Remnants S05E15). We have seen him stare down John Sheppard himself when he thought that he was veering off his moral compass (Sanctuary S01E14). We have seen him do one heroic deed after another.

Rodney McKay is very brave, and it is because his bravery is so frequently framed in a comedic manner (like in Harmony, S04E14) that just makes it more difficult to recognize. But his woman, his co-worker, who seems to have been observing him keenly, testifies that this is indeed the case. He is a brave and honourable man. Because John Sheppard is the protagonist, it is easier for us to see him in this light even though both courage and honour are much more difficult for him to stake a claim to; there are many more shades of grey to his character, as we have just seen in his scenes with Teyla.

While what she tells us using words is interesting, what we are shown likewise tells us things about McKay. In the first scene, we see McKay instructing one of the members of his science team. He tells her "No, no, no, no, no. No. This sequence first, then the secondary code--unless you're intentionally trying to blow us up, in which case, excellent work!" He is both educating her, sharing his expertise with her, and trying to make sure that everyone is safe.

What he says and how he says it are two different things, and because he's saying it in a derisive tone, some people will only see him berating someone working for him and not what he actually does. There are myriad things on Atlantis that can kill them all, even worse than that. He knows it better than most. Sometimes it's better to scold a child than to let them burn their hand for them to learn that the stove is hot, especially if there is a danger that the stove will burn the entire house down in the process. So, he's not being kind but is doing what is necessary. And McKay also has someone that he very much wants to keep safe. Having found this "sort of a surrogate family" here, he is doing everything he can to protect them.

In the scene we also find yet another blonde woman that McKay has absolutely no interest in for other than for her scientific work. We see the same blonde woman behind the woman recording the message in the next scene in which McKay bites into a sandwich only to spit it out immediately. Because he has deadly allergies, it is understandable that he is freaked out by biting into something he had not expected to bite into. The scene is humorous because his complaining about the sandwich is juxtaposed with her line about having enjoyed working for him very much as though this were a regular occurrence.

Sure, McKay could be making his own sandwiches but then, he has been working day and night to come up with plans that might save them. His time is better used on science than it is on feeding himself. Also, it does not appear as though either of the female scientists were responsible for having made his sandwich. It is because this woman is shown as being so keen to serve him and that she denies having made the sandwich that we are able to conclude that someone outside of the lab must be responsible for having made it. If anyone in the lab had made McKay a sandwich, it would have been her. And it wasn't her. Making sandwiches for McKay is not her job.

Now, McKay did not enjoy the sandwich (because, cumin?) but it's not just possible but is actually likely that it was brought to him by someone outside of the lab. Someone, perhaps, also not exactly known for making his own food both due to his family background and long career in the military. It would be a sweet gesture, regardless.

And let me run this by you real quick: cumin is not only characteristic of Afghani cuisine, there are varieties of cumin only found in Afghanistan and which are particularly prized. So, like. There is only one person on the whole damn expedition that we know would have a motivation for putting cumin in the sandwich of someone he also prizes.

It's a good thing that McKay enjoys that military food because with his chosen company, he's looking at a long future with nothing but.

Now, later in Quarantine (S04E13) we are informed that Sheppard likes to spend time in McKay's lab, and in Allies (S02E20) Sheppard walks into the lab with a tray that has cups of coffee on it. He's bringing them to the lab at large in this episode but the fact that he sets the tray down on the table and then proceeds to take one of the cups for himself to drink like it's a routine action suggests that he has done this before, he has brought coffee to the lab for himself and another, many times.

In this light, it's interesting that when McKay describes what cats are like in his recording (seemingly describing himself in the process), he says "Cats are self-sufficient, they're dependable; you shake the box, they come running--cynics would say it's because of the food but my cat… See, I truly believe he enjoys my company." It's the gesture more than the food itself that makes him come running. McKay spitting the sandwich out is a genius way from the creators to be able to make reference to this concealed subtextual relationship between the characters. McKay may not like this particular sandwich but it's still a very thoughtful gesture for someone that has spent most of his time cooped up in a lab lately. Also? Sheppard is the only character we know has made a sandwich on Atlantis (Ford brings him a sandwich in Suspion (S01E04) after having heard him mention one in Rising (S01E02) but we don't know he had made it himself or if it was MRE). With Sheppard, he was going to make it:

The final scene in her recording shows McKay having a cramp. We are meant to juxtapose his cramp with the mention of him being brave and honourable. We are meant to think that he has a low pain tolerance as though cramps were not occasionally extremely painful. We are meant to question is athleticism and physical prowess. But I find it interesting that he is cramping in his groin or upper thigh area. And groin seems like the more likely culprit, as he doubles over forward as it starts and he shields the area from this woman that is overeager to help him with it. We have not seen him cramp before so it is not as though this is something typical of him.

But this gives us room to speculate that he may have been exerting himself physically lately in ways that lead to potential cramps in this area. Dehydration may also cause them if and when one has been sweating a lot of fluids doing something strenuous recently. His body is not used to the amount of sex he has been having, to make it explicit. We saw the effects on Sheppard previously in how twice he seemed to be feeling ginger getting up from a chair, and now this. And because it is wrapped up and disguised in comedy, we don't recognize it for what it is. Even though it is literally framed with the words "at his pleasure". Because this woman is not the only one that has been serving at his pleasure lately.

Continued in Pt. 6

#stargate atlantis #sga meta #sga #john sheppard #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #ep. letters from pegasus #ep. quarantine #ep. allies

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esther-dot · 1 year ago

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"You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the North. You told me you could be strong. You have the wolf blood in you." (Arya X ASOS)

The old gods legitimately spoke to Arya using Ned's voice in order to give her strength to leave Harrenhal. So the gods of the North is using the former Lord of Winterfell's voice while calling Arya a "daughter of the North" apparently means nothing ? Seriously though, if Sansa had a similar scene Stansas would never shut up about it and claim it's proof for Sansa ruling the North, but apparently when it's Arya it means nothing ? Typical. Just how Arya naming her direwolf after a queen and said direwolf is leading a huge pack of wolves also means nothing even though we know the direwolves names are foreshadowing for their owners, means nothing as well. And this isn't even accounting the fact that Arya fits Varys' ideal ruler speech, and all of the other rulership/queen foreshadowing Arya has which is way more than what Sansa has. Arya has also expressed wanting to build castles, is the current Lady of Winterfell by proxy, has enacted Northern Justice, has offered protection and food to a man of the Night's Watch, and has major themes of mercy, justice, and service/humility, which are all essential to being a good ruler. Stansas could only dream that Sansa had all of this, but she doesn't, and I think GRRM has put so much in Sansa's way of ever ruling the North that it has to mean something. So unless Sansa jumps through twenty complicated hoops and changes who she is fundamentally than it's highly unlikely she'll ever rule the North.

(about this ask)

"I think GRRM has put so much in Sansa's way of ever ruling the North...."

Let's sit and think about this for a moment. LF, the evil mastermind, is currently scheming how to retake Winterfell with Sansa, is working to get her the great fighting force of the KotV, and you're telling me that Martin is placing obstacles in Sansa's path re: getting North/ruling it? We have a character who has successfully schemed his way from nothing to positions of great power working to install Sansa as leader of the North and you want me to believe there's nothing to indicate she's gonna be in a position of power? We have a prophecy about Sansa slapping LF's head on Winterfell's Wall, so we know the girl goes North, we know she out-maneuvers that bastard, and you're telling me that's Martin's way of indicating it’s impossible for her to end up ruling the North?

I deliberately didn't use general tags on my other posts because I know y'all screenshot anything in the anti tags to harass us, and I don't like arguing anymore because it's such a waste of time. I politely disagreed with you, I told you your effort is wasted on me, I don't know why you're persisting. In my last message, I tried to explain that all of our beloved POVs are used to discuss certain themes. I stipulated that a large chunk of Arya's story involves justice/mercy, but explained that since so many characters examine the same idea, we can't say "hey, hey! Justice=leadership=endgame queen!" I mean, Dany and Cersei are the women with experience ruling and both of them are gonna end the series dead (regardless of how you interpret Dany, tragic hero/fall arc etc, everyone knows it ends badly for her). 🤷🏻‍♀️

"Stansas could only dream...."

I don't need to dream. Sansa watched Ned handle things at court while hand, she's learning how to work people from LF, she is running a household, she's taking care of a kid, she's now being forced to charm a loser....honestly, this is stuff that is just as important for a woman to know if she is to be LoW or a queen, and let's not even get into how, while a prisoner herself she intervenes to save a life, how, although she is powerless, Martin writes her to inspire people to be more, to be better, to loyalty and protection. Don't try to pretend that Sansa doesn't have gobs of stuff that are just as easily used to defend spec she ends up in a leadership role in the North. In addition to LF’s plans we even have the other smartpants Tyrion thinking about what a great queen she would be. We’re meant to draw some conclusions from that. 😅 And, considering Martin's anti war/anti violence stance, her compassion for her enemies and her mercy are why thematically she would be part of a better future for the North.

But, we have the revelation that King Bran is Martin's endgame to factor in. I thought Sansa was destined to be a queen, King Bran has made me question it (why would Westerosi Lords select a Stark to lead them if the North goes free/has it's own queen?). So, I now look at what we might otherwise call foreshadowing with a little more skepticism. Jon literally has a raven screeching, "King" in his ear and we have arguments about a) his legitimacy and b) whether or not he will be a ruler of any kind pretty routinely, so I'm not targeting Arya when I say, nah, that's not foreshadowing. My favs are Jon and Sansa, and I now rethink what certain passages indicate for them.

Maybe it would help if you think of it this way. This isn't some sort of competition in which whoever has the more popular theory will magically manifest it or if you harass people into silence their theory will be wrong. Martin has known his ending for decades, I don't think I will ever get a chance to read it, so the only "winning" there is for us is to enjoy the fandom experience. It is a waste of your time (and mine!) to harass strangers on the internet when none of us will ever be right or proven wrong. Make your peace with us all disagreeing, forever being dissatisfied, and go have fun! The only ending I will ever get is not one that made me happy, but you don't see me making that other people's problem.

#dot chat #I’m also not in the mood to be insulted or have my words misrepresented so if this persists I will block you #it’s possible to disagree without being obnoxious 😐#qitn sansa

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greybackpack · 11 months ago

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Kotallo leans on his remaining arm as he considers the battle map projected on the metal table. He'd planned to map out both Zenith and Regalla's activities in order to gain insight in their next move. Normally, Kotallo loves the stretch of strategy, the way clues fall together so that he may prime his attack to kill.

Not today.

His mind does not seem to want to cooperate with his plans for the day. Instead, it wanders onto the subject of his commander. Commanders. Both commanders.

He’d been at Chief Hekarro’s side since almost the beginning of the Chief's glory. Out of the current Marshals, he had the most seniority. Even before the ambush, Kotallo was the one who knew Hekarro-the-Chief best. From the first Kulrut until now, Kotallo’s learned many things about his role as a Marshal… and about his commanding officer’s role as a leader.

Kotallo admired the man, then and now, both for his gift for combat and his goal of peace despite of the glory he could have had. Or, perhaps his goal of peace is because he knows what combat and conflict brings. Glory... and suffering.

Though, Kotallo supposes the position of Chief and Guardian of the Grove is glorious enough.

What Kotallo truly admires, however, is the way his commander handled the weight of leadership.

Far from prying eyes, Kotallo watched as Hekarro allowed himself to bend under the weight of handling the clans. Kotallo does not judge. If it was him handling Tekotteh, let alone the rest of the clans and the Carja, the clans would most likely have been decimated. Yet, Hekarro leads with both strength and patience, yielding and standing firm when necessary. Then, in his private moments, with or without his Marshals, he allows himself a small moment of weakness, of rest. Of bending beneath the weight of responsibility.

But Hekarro did not- does not- allow it to break him. He bends. He hangs his head, heavy and aching from his crown, and slumps against the plant covered walls of the Grove. And then he gets back up.

When Hekarro has had his time to process, Kotallo watched him pull back his shoulders and settle back into the mantle of leader. Kotallo watched as Hekarro lined his spine once more of machine metal and rouse strength to his posture in order to keep going. To keep moving, to stand up when all is weighing you down is true strength. To deny the temptation of rest in order to protect and fight is something everyone struggles with. It is a hard lesson, to learn with grace. Kotallo has learned and learned well. It is a strength that Chief Hekarro possesses. It is the kind of true strength that the Ten were known for.

And that is the driving force of Kotallo's loyalty. Yes, Hekarro took him in when his clan casted him out- exile hidden behind a veneer of honor- and that had netted Kotallo's service. Yet it is the kindness, the solid sight of the back of his chief as he protected the clans from enemies and themselves, and the steel that lines his spine as he cuts enemies down is what secures Kotallo's unwavering loyalty. It is what secures his return, it is why he allowed himself once more to be a spear to be pointed.

Aloy, too, has the same grit and sheer will behind her every move. The same ability to bend the world to her commands, to her beliefs. Her battle seems never ending. Kotallo respects that. She fights like she's been taught nothing else in her life. She, as Erend would say, kicks ass. She kicks everyone's ass, the enemy's, his own, machine ass. She even, Kotallo thinks as he tips his head upwards to hide his smirk, kicks her own ass.

But... She fights like Tenakth. Something he did not expect to find in the reclusive Nora. Soft, he had thought those from the east.

Aloy had proved him, and everyone else who had ever doubted her, wrong. She proved a whole clan wrong, when she tore the Bulwark down with the ease of someone who's pulled off the impossible so many times that 'impossible' only means 'harder'. Hair like fire, heart like hearth, fight like a blaze. Firestorm. Aloy, who is easy-going (not that he can say much, Kotallo knows he's anti-social even amongst other Tenakth) until she isn't. Calm, unsuspecting, until she isn't. People tend to underestimate her. They see the colors of the Nora, the soft, deer-like pelts she wears, and think that is everything she is and will ever be. Until she slits their throat with a skilled hand and a sharp blade. Until she destroys the wall his clan had believed unbreachable for centuries and essentially slapped Tekkoteh's face with... a boulder. Multiple boulders. Aloy spat in the face of doubt and took out its knees with her spear.

His new commander has a penchant for the impossible.

Then again, people had said uniting the Tenakth was impossible and Hekarro pulled that off too.

Kotallo glances away from the map, eyes still adjusting to the focus hub of information. He looks at the schematics for an arm, a strange mixture reluctance and hope swirling at the pit of his gut.

Perhaps Aloy would be amenable to performing another minor miracle...?

#aloy #aloy destroying the bulwark #kotallo #horizon forbidden west #horizon zero dawn #we don't talk about Aloy casually destroying long held beliefs enough #kotallo's prosthetic arm (the plan)#aloy horizon #aloy and hekarro seeing themselves in each other #kotallo ruminating on his commanders #and realizing that they're both kind of insane #legendary and effective but insane #hekarro #tenakth #kulrut

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yubellia · 3 months ago

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Nobody needs a Snow White remake. Snow is already a strong protagonist

Yes. I just said that. And I mean it. You can‘t believe how the actress that plays Snow White is getting on my nerves. „She won‘t be saved by a prince.“ „it’s not about ‚one day my prince will come‘.“ and NO! This is not about her skin color! That discussion is so annoying anyway. This is about her talking nonsense! Nothing more!

Seriously, I know it sounds like I am looking down on that girl. Yes, girl. She is just 23. And I know she probably doesn’t have that much control over anything there. But all I see is a kid, that thinks she is super smart and smug because she has it figured out and isn’t realizing that she knows nothing.

Like, excuse me?! Did she even watch the original movie? Did the team behind this movie watch the original?!

Let’s take a look because if you do, you see that snow is not a damsel and indeed very strong in the context of her circumstances! Everything they claim Snow White lags, she already has. You just have to look and actually want to see it!

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The first scene with snow is after the queen learns about her not being the fairest anymore. Snow is forced to work as a maid wearing rags pretty much. Is she complaining or whining? No. She puts on a smile and sings a song about how things will get better. She get to know the prince, the queen is jealous and orders the huntsman to kill her.

One of the things people complain about is that snow is too passive. Too nice. Sorry but that is her greatest strength.

It’s her kindness that made the huntsman spare her life. What made the dwarves take her in. After she runs away, she breaks down crying in the forest before the animals help her. She sings a song and NEVER cries again in the entire movie.

You have to understand that Snow White is a teenager. She just learned that her stepmother, the only family she had left, wants to kill her. She ran, has no food, no home for the night. She has nothing except the clothes that she wears. Breaking down crying in that moment isn’t weak. It’s VERY UNDERSTANDABLE AND ACCURATE!

Now, she finds the cottage and decides to clean up. That’s not Disney being anti feminist and Snow White being a weak woman. She realizes that she won‘t be able to stay for free. She notices that no one is doing household chores, which is what the queen forces her to do for years. So she thinks, I proof myself usefull to them and than, they might let me stay. She even said that outright!

She notices that there is a position that could give her an advantage and she uses that! She is very resourceful and uses what little she has! Not just that! She also proofs that she has leadership skills like a royal by splitting the chores up to the animals! „Snow white won‘t dream of love. She will dream of becoming a leader!“ pah! She already is! It’s small yes but that’s natural in her position! Where exactly is Snow White shown to be weak!? Or a damsel that needs to be saved?! She saves herself (with animals).

Later when she sends the dwarves to wash their hands, she takes on a strict but caring role. She shows leadership skills the entire time!

And yes, there is a little bit of romance. She does hope to see the prince again. But she NEVER waits for him to save her! She focused on what’s important and did it herself! What’s so damn wrong with dreaming of a loving relationship?! Can somebody explain that to me!?

At the end, Snow White is the story about a victim of abuse, she escapes, TAKES ON A JOB! And earns her place and food among the dwarves. She does beg them to let her stay but NEVER without offering her services. And even when she literally has the most powerful woman of the land against her, she tries to stay positive and put on a smile! A truly strong, independent woman who gets her happy ending with her prince! A great role model if you ask me.

Do you see now why I think that Rachel Zegler and Disney have no damn idea what they are talking about when they speak about the original movie!? You CAN watch the original Snow White and find a very positive feminist message on how to be strong AND kind despite the odds! But if you don‘t WANT to see it, we get a remake no one asked for! Yes Snow White is not this „in your face!“ feminist! But honestly, we don‘t need more girl boss movies. And I am saying that as a woman!

If they wanted to do something unique and expand on the original, why didn’t they use the real original story and combine it? Make the queen try to get rid of Snow White not twice but FOUR times in total. That way they could focus more on the characters, their bonds and make the queen even creepier.

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I hope i didn’t offend anyone too much here. But I think many people are already scared for this movie. But seriously, watch the original and remember this post. You will see it. I promise.

#snow white #Snow White remake #nobody needs modern remakes #rant post #rachel zegler #Disney

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nightly-ruse · 2 years ago

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Sorry I don’t like Brambleflower as a fix for canon Bramble. I just can’t separate the canon Bramble from any fanon bettered version for him. I get why he’s even named flower as a nod to his mother instead of father but it just does not suit him at all for me.

(Pretty long idc read if you want just know this is a Bramble hate post and I mean every word in here.)

To me honestly while I hate this character with a burning passion his character and what he does expands every cat around him a lot.

What he does to Squirrelflight is sickening but it builds her story, shows clear abuse from a husband and powerful figure which can then be twisted into her realizing this and overcoming him. She finally breaks after being screamed at by her own daughter about Bramblestar’s abuse and forces him to step down. She makes him retire, clawing him down ever life he has till he’s nothing but a old fool. Before taking leadership for herself and truly bringing Thunderclan into a golden age.

His children. The three love him, he’s their dad they look up to him a lot so much so they don’t see the little things he does to their mom. Until the secrets revealed. Hollyleaf feels shame crawling under her pelt every time she tries to meet his eyes until at last she tells him the truth. He goes cold and draws back. Blaming Squirrelflight first as always and the two concoction a plan to reveal it at the gathering to show everyone what liars Leafpool and Squilf are. When it is revealed Bramble strips Squirrel of her deputyship, breaks off their partnership, and denounces their children as ever his. He never treats any of three as his own family again even being quite horrible to them.

Now his Children by blood are different. He knows they are his he can see it clearly but he can’t love them. They don’t feel like his and they never will. While he nitpicks every thing that Squirrelflight does around them he barley even visits them. He pushes his son into the healer role because he doesn’t think he’s strong enough. And while he loves his daughter for being a natural talent he pushes her hard to be even better. Eventually cracking into the whole family split to side with their mother and begging her to end her partnership with Bramble. Even if he’s their dad he’s never felt like one truly certainly not like how she’s always been their mom.

And honestly it’s not just his family who are effected. He makes rash spiteful decisions fully fueled by emotions all the time as well as leaving so much onto his deputy. He’s a horrible leader, a horrible father, a horrible mate, and a selfish cat by heart. He likes to control others even if he doesn’t know it. He’s possessive and can’t let anyone leave him, refusing to let Squilf out of his claws, grabbing onto any trace of family he believes he has in Hawkfrost’s case even refusing to listen to anyone when they are clearly right.

This is far too long and I also have a splitting headache so take that into mind as I cut myself off here even though I have so many more thoughts I’d like to say. This isn’t a hate to the whole concept of ‘Brambleflower’ it’s just how I see it and his character. In my best case scenario to me, Squilf drags him down out of power and out of TC with the help of her real support system, he’s gone and while he does realize his mistakes he also pities himself for them. He’s never truly good and never can be, good Bramble died in that fire as a apprentice and what’s left is a charred toxic husk that’s there to blister anyone who tries to stand too close, or those he refuses to let go.

#bramblestar #brambleclaw #ruse rambles #rude rants #sorry this is long it’s just my thoughts on him #anyways if I get any bramble supporters I will just block you I literally do not care at all #he’s a horrible character. barely even in a likeable way #my brain worms for the day #warrior cats #wc analysis #character analysis

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autistichalsin · 11 months ago

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Both Karlach and Halsin are buff capable adults with strong morality, but inside THEY ARE KIDS FULL OF JOY TO BE ALIVE IN THE WORLD FULL OF WONDERS as Oak Father Intended

So strong, so fragile, as life itself LET THEM LOVE LET THEM BE

GOD BUT THIS PART.

They're adults, traumatized, with both having experienced the worst the world can offer, having their freedom and autonomy denied to them, socially isolated. Both have the Outlander background. Both lost their families, both are war veterans.

Yet they both are still so full of love and joy. Halsin is unable to show it the way he wants to when we meet him, while Karlach never wavers from it, yet at the end they're both able to show who they are. How they love LIFE itself more than anything, how they're so full of kindness and compassion and love to protect the weak.

Karlach isn't certain she wants kids at first, but Halsin is- yet when you bring the idea up to her, she warms to it at once. She also teases the idea of getting a "really mean goat." You know who loves all life, all animals? Halsin.

If you bring Karlach to the love dryad and are asked where she'll be in 10 years, you can say "worshipping Selune"; Karlach responds that she's nice, but Karlach is more of a sunshine girl herself.

Sunshine.

What is Halsin's quest about again? Bringing something back to a certain cursed land?

... Right. SUNLIGHT. "If the sun shines on this place once more..."

Sunlight is essential for life. Essential for plants to grow. Halsin wants to infuse life and light back into the Shadow-Cursed Lands, and Karlach alludes to the god of sunlight as being perhaps the only one she'd consider becoming a follower of.

AND YOU KNOW WHAT ELSE? If Karlach asks Halsin for stories, he mentions how while everyone wants the most exciting chapters, he spends plenty of time hibernating in bear form. Karlach gets excited, saying "sleep AND adventure! Maybe I'll come back as a bear in some future life!"

IF THAT ISN'T SYMBOLISM, I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS!

Both are protective of those who need it most. Both have a great deal of empathy. Karlach is more childish in many ways than Halsin, but this could help him let his playful side out more, while Halsin's maturity could help ground Karlach when she needs it. Karlach is always raring to go for a good fight, never straying from what needs to be done, while Halsin is more pragmatic and able to understand when a fight will accomplish nothing. They offset each other in so many good ways while retaining the same core personality- warm, loving, full of life and care and compassion.

Both are touch-starved; you can see how Halsin reacts to being hugged in the epilogue, stating that he always needs a hug and if he ever refuses one, to assume he's been replaced by a doppelganger, while Karlach went without for TEN YEARS. Both are socially isolated, Halsin having been made a sex slave, lost his family, endured the Shadow Curse, and then forced into a leadership role, while Karlach lost her family too, was dragged into hell to fight for ten years where none of her "comrades" would have been worth talking to, and now faces a terminal illness on top of that.

In all the party banters in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, it's KARLACH who shows the most concern for Halsin's mental state, who is horrified when he talks about what he witnessed and how it still affects him. A soft "poor man" in one, and a "stay strong, bear man, we're still here" in another. Karlach is able to see that just once, Halsin wants to be soothed the way he does for others. And similarly, it's Halsin to tell her he "will not try to soothe her with gilded words" but that he "is still here" for her when Karlach finally realizes the truth of her impending death, because Halsin can see that in that moment, Karlach doesn't want to be told it'll be okay; she wants to be told that she isn't alone, that her presence, for however short a time it'll linger, will be cherished by those close to her. Instinctively, they understand these needs the other has at their worst, darkest moments.

I just love them a lot, okay?

#halsin #halsin silverbough #karlach #karlach cliffgate #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #furioso

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yoonyia · 9 months ago

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😨 ok this is your open invite to talk about val!!

MY QUEEN

THE FORGOTTEN MIDDLE CHILD

how dare you all disrespect her majesty like this

you all should repent for your wrong doings

it pisses me off that a lot of people forget about val

and critique Val for never getting a life and following the tails of her brothers

but like do you not get the point of her character

she is the human representation of altruism and living for other people

like the reason her life revolves around other people is because that's who she is

she bends to no other will but her own

she not submitting herself to live someone else's life its a personal choice and her virtue to do so

THIS IS NOT HEADCANONS BY THE WAY IT IS LITTERALLY THE CANON AND I WANT PEOPLE TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AND STOP CALLING VAL A BADDLY WRITTEN CHARACTER

IM SORRY IF ITS PLAYING INTO A TROUPE OF WOMEN WHOS LIVES REVOLVE AROUND MEN BUT SHE HERSELF IS COMPLETELY INDEPENDANT AND LIVES BY HER OWN NEEDS AND WANTS, HER OWN NEEDS AND WANTS HAPPENS TO BE OTHER PEOPLE BUT SHES SACREFICING NOTHING

SHES ACTUALLY FORCING OTHERS INTO BEING BETTER PEOPLE EVEN THO THEY PERSONALLY HATE IT

I NEED YOU ALL TO UNDERSTAND

anyways enough about that

Val is a weeb

she had posters of anime characters when she was on earth

she would sneak in manga spoilers into demonsthes, especially if it was a manga peter was also reading

unlike Peter she hates k pop and ender sings it to her to piss her off

Val is like a sassy aunt towards ender and ender treats her like an older sibling that keeps barging into the room

very sibling dynamic with both her siblings, she dosent care about the fact they're world dominating leaders she sees them being idiots and calls them idiots and loves them dearly (ofcourse she loves ender a lot more as altruism dosent always comes with equality)

she gives people haircuts

she's super tall but enders taller (this does mean Peter is shortest of all the siblings and I find that fact hilarious)

she's really bad at cooking and made sure that if she ever got a husband he would do most of the cooking and cleaning

she values equal participation in projects but is more then ready to take on a leadership role

she's very flexible and unlike her brothers she is great at socializing

she reads constantly, ofcourse a lot of manga but also books in other languages that she manually translates using a dictionary

she really likes learning of different cultures and telling random facts about the world to others (and by others I mean ender, she talks to him a lot and vice versa)

she's emotionally intelligent but she dosent have the patience to say the things she knows is the right thing to say so she just ends up screaming the truth and letting it marinate as everyone around her is in tears asking her "I know what you're saying is correct but please stop screaming"

not ender tho, he just sits and listens and then agrees to it or add at it even if Val is getting real aggressive about it, he's calm and Val is impressed at his calmness

it's really hard to say stuff about Val without mentioned other people because her life so tightly revolved around helping them

I hope yall know that this isn't an inherently bad thing

she's atheist, and she's the only one in her family who is truely atheist. she personally dosent understand the concept of religion and thinks it's a bit silly

espicially when she gets to lustainia

she is a wine aunt but not a wine mom

she and her husband are both jokesters

Val is very funny

Val is like the comedian Taylor Tomlinson

she dosent like her mom always being a cheerleader but she herself is also quite the optimist

she's says things like "the world's gonna end tomorrow" and cheers everyone up

she hates corn, she will spit every kernel out one by one if the food has corn in it

this includes popcorn

never take her to the movies

she also has a really weird schedule

wakes up at 11am, does some stretches, goes eat lunch, does work, talk to ender for 3 hours, reads, exercises, eats dinner at around 2am, socializes with others till 5 then goes to bed at 6am

time zones fear her

she likes the cold, she loves snow

she likes having a fan on whenever she sleeps

her favorite food is pho (so is enders)

she wears the same thing every single day and she genuinely wears the same clothes as steve jobs

if you ever see me draw Val in anything other then a black turtleneck and jeans and I don't call it out that ain't me that's a skinwalker and I want you to kill it

her and her husband's relationship is actually really sweet

they compliment eachother like how you need salt in baking

also she just in general also brings out the best in people

she's just real nice if you ignore her impatience and lack of understanding

she dosent have a lot of empathy but she knows what will help you

she is warm and soft and comforting if you sit with her long enough to get used to the cold temperature of the room she's in

she's a born teacher, great at figuring out what her students need

she's also vegan, and forced ender to go vegan too

or it was the reverse

I cant make up my mind

this one's long cause I really like Val and I don't ever get enough Val content

if I were to rank my love for the wiggin siblings it would go ender most Val second peter last (like their parents actually JDKDKD) AND IM SO SORRY PETER FANS I JUST LOVE MY SARCASTIC PROFESSORS THAT ARE COMEDIC

also yes I belive that both Val and ender are both comedic and funny

I refuse to believe that ender is constantly depressed and is :| all the time

both of these kids are doing the Anya face half the time or laughing at a joke no one gets

Val tries to influence ender a lot and get him out of his low self esteem and self hatred

I mean she influences him a lot but sadly never got to fixing that issue

anyways yea that's my Val for yall

give more respect to this women she built her life in a way were she would be the happiest

GOD FORBID SOMEONE WANTS TO BE HAPPY AND HEALTHY IN THIS UNIVERSE

#enders game #ender’s game

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ryiju-muunie · 1 month ago

Text

Resonance starts Revolution

FBI Agent!Zoro Roronoa/Sanji Vinsmoke Warnings: graphic depiction of violence, eye gouging, gun wounds, shooting, car chase, unrealistic violence sort of, cross dressing, animal/human hybrids, POV Zoro, drug dealing, this takes place in land-locked michigan, brook is a skeleton, humor, zoro has gender issues lowkey, transphobic!Franky, betrayal with a twist, this is not going the way you think, angst, ambiguous relationship, open ending, maybe ooc at times Word count: 12217 DESC: Zoro was a skilled agent used to going undercover to finish the job. He didn't expect to have to deal with an annoying cook while trying to take down a major drug dealer. OR Sanji was a skilled chef used to cooking for the pickiest of clients. He didn't expect to have his whole night shifted upside down due to the looks of a beautiful lady.

Hope you like this xx

NOTES: I had this idea while seeing a TikTok of Zoro dressed up in a fancy dress. I wanted to write this for SO LONG and I'm finally doing it! I really wanted this to be a heartfelt story with random details thrown in and mini subplots that all tie in together!

Zoro Roronoa was one of the most skilled agents in his force. It was obvious from the way he never backed down from a fight, especially to protect his colleagues. He never stopped putting his life on the line if someone was injured. In fact, it made him feel stronger. It gave him a sense of pride to risk it just to ensure his friends were safe. It was in his blood; from the fact he came from an extensive line of tigers who fought mercilessly against tyrants and enemies of nations. He would do anything to take down the biggest of criminals, so it wasn’t a surprise to him when he was called in to talk about a new mission.

His boss, Nami, who was one of the only people on the force he was truly scared of, sat before him. Her desk and the way her chair propped the woman up, made her seem taller than she truly was. She wore dark colored pantsuits typically. Her ginger hair was back in a slicked bun, a few strands sticking out from the wear of the day, and her tabby ears were flattened against her head. Either way, she looked great for being just a bit older than the agent himself. She looked young. It was the fact she wasn’t as stressed as everyone else, taking on a leadership role rather than a hands-on one. Or it was the fact she was practically loaded.

This job paid well, but Her's paid excellent. She was drowning in so much money she didn’t know what to do with it. Zoro half hoped he’d have that problem soon, but like everything it took time. He wasn’t opposed to saving up, but collecting swords was an expensive hobby he couldn’t seem to quit.

“Roronoa,” she spoke, lips pressing together as she looked over a manilla folder in her dainty hands. It was a new job, but something about it was making her hesitate. The man always got first pick due to his seniority and the fact he was, let’s face it, strong as hell. A bit of a flex, sure, but it was true.

“I’m not sure if you’d want to take this,” Nami finally continued, closing the folder, and handing it to the man. His brow furrowed just a tad. What did she mean? Nothing could really deter him from fighting, even the darkest of cases. There were things he had seen that he vowed he would never let happen to another human being, but that didn’t mean he would be scared to have it happen again. If the worst of it was a little undercover torture, he could take it.

The man was a disciplined specimen. Every day he would wake up early to work out and eat a balanced breakfast, consisting of heavy protein and a lot of vegetables. This didn’t mean he skimmed on dessert. No, he had more of a sleeper build as they called it. A softer frame, but when he flexed, suddenly, he doubled in size. It was amazing how his body worked, turning the spy into a whole new creature when he was fighting.

Zoro looked down at the file and opened it, seeing the face of someone he knew all too well. The Soul King of Detroit, Humming Brook. God, that guy really got under his skin. It was someone he was so close to catching, but he always slipped out of his reach. He was a skeleton, which was a whole other phenomenon he chose to ignore, with disgustingly bony cat ears coming out of his large afro. He always donned a sort of vintage look, kind of like a pimp. A big purple top hat with a zebra trim, and a large coat to match. No one knew how old the guy was, but everyone assumed he was ancient. I mean, hello, talking cat skeleton for crying out loud!!

Humming Brook was one of the first cases the tiger took on himself and one of the first cases he failed. It was a huge blow to his rookie ego, but it was something that had to happen. It humbled him and helped him grow to become a stronger agent. He vowed he would destroy Brook and all he was worth. And he’d make sure that bounty of 383,000,000 dollars was squashed. No one would take him down but the green-haired agent himself, and himself alone.

So, Brook was there, but why would Nami say he wouldn’t want to take on this case? Reading it, it was the same old same old. A drop point at some fancy restaurant downtown, a restaurant that was known to protect some of the biggest drug lords in the city. It was exclusive and quite hard to get into. But knowing Zoro, he could get into anything. Then he saw it. He saw the face of a woman that they had brought into custody a few months prior, a woman who was a part of a notorious drug ring Ninja Pirate Mink… something. She had signed a plea deal, her immunity for information against the Soul King.

The thing about that woman was that she resembled Zoro an awful lot. Her face was like his, but a bit rounder and fuller, with poutier lips. Her hair was blonde with brown roots, bangs coming down to her eyebrows. She was a bit curvier and quite a pretty woman. If she wasn’t a part of a drug ring, he’d consider her a ten.

It clicked as he saw her, looking up to see his boss, “...You want me to dress up like a chick?” Of course, that’s what she wanted, and he couldn’t even be mad. It was such… such a good plan. Of course, he was going to do it. Dressing up never bothered the man or even once touched his masculinity. He never gave much of a thought to dressing femininely but for a job? He’d do anything. If it meant dressing up like a woman and living as that for months or doing it for one month.

When he asked, it wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement. Zoro had already agreed in his mind by taking the manilla folder and opening it. If it involved Humming Brook, he was going to do more than just dress up. He was going to become the best damn woman he could be if it meant he would be caught.

The plan was simple enough. Cameras had been set up already by another set of agents, putting them in perfect view of the drug lord’s signature table. He would have to catch the lord in the act of taking the drugs, see them exchange currency, and then exit. All they needed was evidence. It was just the last piece of the puzzle for the FBI to take him down and put him behind bars. He could see it, the Soul King rotting in a jail cell. All he wanted was to be able to see him in court as they brought in pounds of evidence, a handful of witnesses, and video footage of the exchange.

All of this was dependent on Zoro, and his ability to look as feminine as possible. That morning, he went to the special effects artist they had hired for this operation. His name was Usopp, an alligator he had actually heard of. He was known in the community for being able to morph faces into works of art, both realistic and utterly inhuman. It was amazing how a few prosthetics and blush could turn a brooding man into a plush woman.

He applied some prosthetics to his bottom lip, cheeks, and neck- everywhere. Anywhere that would be considered traditionally masculine or too sharp, it was covered in some tan mush the agent didn’t know the name of. Once it hardened and once the makeup artist began to apply the foundation, it was hard to recognize himself in the mirror. Zoro felt like one of those actors going into a role, just to play a new person every day. It felt strange to have that… plastic [if it was even plastic] on his face. It didn’t burn, no, it just made him very aware of his skin and its imperfections.

They didn’t speak, but the two men had a mutual understanding. This was for a job, and it had to be perfect. It wasn’t about whether he liked it or not but getting as close to the photo as possible.

Although Zoro had to admit, it was a little weird when he had to put on the fake breasts. It was a kind of suit that he had seen drag queens wear the one time he had watched Drag Race at 2 in the morning. It wasn’t a good skin match, but Usopp quickly corrected it with more foundation and powder. It wasn’t uncomfortable either, new to having two big lumps on his chest. Especially since they were … oddly realistic. Well, the makeup was making them very realistic, with skin imperfections and veins.

Once the prosthetics and makeup were done, it was time for the wig. The wig was the freakiest part, how realistic it was. It was nothing like those costume wigs Roronoa had seen in Spirit Halloween or Walmart during the holidays. It had bangs, which he thought would mean they’d pop it on and call it a day. But no. They had to glue and fasten the hair to his head, even though he said he’d be careful. Usopp simply shook his head and got to work with glue and patience. Now, the wig was uncomfortable. It squeezed his cranium and brushed against his neck uncomfortably. That’s why the man always had his hair in a short buzz cut, it was easier and saved time. Not to mention he saved butt loads on shampoo and conditioner alone.

To skip the gory details, once he was tucked and waxed [which was worse than any torture Zoro had faced in his entire life] it was time to put on a dress. Hours had gone by, pure silence on both ends. And finally, Usopp spoke up.

“This is when you can, uh, choose your outfit. Nami thought it would make it less awkward if you chose it yourself,” he spoke nervously, a tan hand coming to rub against the back of his neck. Choose whatever he wanted. Well, he wanted a dress that was for certain. He knew when it came to fancy places women always wore dresses, well the women he knew. And he knew, something something, they color coordinated, right?

Hm, he didn’t want to match with the blonde, but he didn’t want something that wouldn’t go with his lipstick. It was a dark red shade that Zoro was starting to like. So, something red, then maybe if the dress came low enough, he could wear some sneakers. I mean, women had to be comfortable too!

“Red,” Zoro gruffed, pointing to his lips, “Something like this.”

Usopp nodded and motioned for him to stand up from his chair, following him into a room of dresses. Every style and every length of dress was littered on rows of hangers. Well, this would be his heaven if he really cared, but he was in search of something that matched. That would be easy right? Wrong! Fashion is way harder than anyone has ever let on!

It took the agent ages until he found the perfect dress. A dark velvet shade of red, on actual velvet. It was off the shoulder and long-sleeved [which defeated the purpose of waxing his arms but WHATEVER], showing off his newly made chest and how seamlessly his makeup artist blended it into his shoulders. It was floor length, even dragging a bit as he walked. It was perfect, and with some convincing, he was able to put on his own ratty sneaker's underneath. The only thing he didn’t like was the feeling of the blonde hair brushing against his back, but he’d deal with it for one night.

When Zoro finally got to look at himself for the last time, he was stunned. Was this what looking like a girl was all about? Being cutesy? He had to admit, he didn’t mind looking like this. It grew on him how he felt in this dress and with these fake breasts on. But before he could marvel at himself more, the door behind him opened, and in came his partner for the operation.

Sadly, he wouldn’t be doing this alone. His partner today was the most annoying rhino he had ever met, Franky. As always, he strolled in with an air of confidence. Usopp had gotten to him too, an older suit donned on his large muscular body and a large blob of facial hair littering his face. It didn’t go with his blue hair, which was swooped up in his usual style, but he didn’t really care. Nami had insisted he had a chaperone, someone to keep their cover believable. The woman he was impersonating never went to restaurants alone, and it would cause suspicion if she did the one-night Humming Brook would be there. Besides, the bigger the man the less likely anyone would try anything weird on him.

“Oh, who’s this hot chick?” Franky grinned, eyeing the tiger playfully before continuing, “It’s Zoro!” He pointed to his colleague with a stupid smile and then clasped his large hands together, “How's it feel to be hot?”

Zoro frowned, “Great. How does it feel to have a beard?” He motioned lazily to Franky, who was looking past him to admire his own reflection in the large mirror.

“I feel like a hundred dollars!” He shouted, raising his hands, and pointing two thumbs in his direction, “Do you have your girl voice down, hot stuff?” Of course, if Franky was dying Zoro would do anything to save him. But it didn’t stop him from wishing he would shut the hell up and go live in a cave where he would never bother anyone again. They were work friends, and that was about it.

“Girl voice? The hell is that?” Roronoa furrowed his brow and turned to look at himself in the mirror. What was a girl's voice? I mean, some women had higher voices than him. Was that what his colleague meant? That was easy, right? He cleared his throat and smiled firmly, “I’m Nanami Tera-” voice crack “-moto.”

Franky pressed his lips together before bursting out into loud laughter, bracing himself on his knees as he cackled out, “Oh you sound like shit! BAHAHAHAH!” He threw his head back and snickered, just rubbing it in Zoro’s face.

Well great, he didn’t have a woman voice.

Then thought for a moment. Franky was wrong, he knew plenty of women with deep voices! Like Robin, their other co-worker had a nice deep, and smooth voice. A woman could have any kind of voice! The hell was he on about trying to make him pitch it up higher when he couldn’t? Zoro pressed his lips together. Of course, he could make it sound a bit more feminine, but who needed a high voice? He surely didn’t to be the perfect woman.

And he was going to be the perfect woman.

The two arrived at the restaurant a few hours later once it hit 7:30 PM. Their reservation was for 7:45, and Nami had insisted they were at least ten to fifteen minutes early. The two stepped out of the rental car the operation was loaned, closing their doors, and promptly locking it. The restaurant, Baratie, had a sort of underwater theme to it. Blue walls and several floors just from the look of it. And of course, there would be loads of people. It would be easy to spot the Soul King for the fact he was a literal skeleton, so they didn’t have to worry about it. All they had to do, truthfully, was show up and sit down at their preserved table.

Brooks table was a corner booth right beside the kitchen, to the left of it. As they were seated, they saw a large window for food to be seated and taken by the servers. That meant they had eyes on the chefs too, which was useless to Zoro at that moment. He was more focused on seeing the drug lord in the flesh as he was seated, Franky sitting across from him with his back to both the skeleton and the kitchen.

To say that thing was tall was an understatement. He was huge, his legs almost coming out from under the table as he lounged. His large coat puffed out, and his top hat perfectly sat atop his large amount of hair. Beside him were people of all varied sizes and faces, all with one common goal, completing the drop. There was a high-profile client who was coming to drop off a generous sum of money and pick up a heavy number of drugs, Sukiyaki Kouzuki. He was a man who had never been seen in the flesh, due to some gang related activity involving his son. That made it easier to make this drop in public. No one would notice him slip in and out, being just a simple older man as he was described from witnesses.

Zoro was focused on catching glimpses at Humming Brook, he didn’t notice the waiter coming up to begin serving them. He had his hand resting underneath his chin, propped up by the table as he stared. He wasn’t thinking of much, but just imagining how it would feel to rip those bones apart. Would he fall? Would he even feel it? Would he die? Or instead, would he just come back together like those turtles in the Mario games? All those thoughts were squashed as he heard Franky clear his throat. The man’s eyes flitted to his coworker, who was giving him a wide-eyed stare and motioning to the antelope-server with his head.

Oh right, he had to order something.

The tiger shifted in his seat, leaning back, and man-spreading his legs. His right arm lounged over the back of the chair as he picked up the menu with his left, “Uh… Get me a… Pasta…?” Zoro put the menu down and looked up at the server, raising his eyebrows.

The deer staring back at him looked a bit… would perturbed be the right word? No, something more like stunned. He had blonde hair, a bit that covered his left eye, blonde ears, short antlers that barely poked out of his hair, and a very strange eyebrow. It curled a bit at the end, in a way Zoro had never seen before. Stubble covering his chin and littering a bit of his cheeks, clearly, he didn’t do an excellent job shaving. Or that was the style among aristocrats. His expression was a mix of a slightly opened mouth and a wide eye, followed by an intense flush on his cheeks. What? Had he never seen a woman before?

Zoro cleared his throat, “Curly-brow, did you hear me?” It was rude, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he’d see this guy after this, and if he did, he doubted he’d be recognizable when taking all this makeup and fake boob-age off.

Curly-brow, as the agent was going to call him now, blinked a few times and pressed his lips together, “Yes.” That was all he said, instead opting to stare at the agent dumbfoundedly. God was this guy stupid? Can’t a girl get some quality service without having to ask twice?

He blinked slowly, “Okay.” Roronoa shifted back to sit comfortably in his seat, turning his attention to the skeleton, who was busy laughing loudly in his corner. What was he even laughing about? There had to be some information he missed while dealing with that dumbass. No one new had joined the table and no one had left, which was a good sign. The drop wouldn’t happen for some time, as their leak said it would be about 11. They had a lot of time to sit and wait until it was just the right time.

But as Zoro was intensely staring at the drug lord and planning his next moves, he was interrupted again by that bumbling server, “And what’s your name miss?” Seriously? Did this guy not get the hint he didn’t want to be bothered?

He turned his head back to the blonde and went to say his actual name, before pausing, “Nanami Teramoto,” then the green-haired male narrowed his eyes, it would be good to know the server by name in case he needed water, he supposed, “Yours?”

“Sanji Vinsmoke at your service! It’s such a pleasure to serve such a beautiful woman like you, Nanami-swan!” And he was down on one knee like a pathetic antelope-dog, taking Zoro’s freshly waxed hand in both of his smaller ones and grinning.

What the … hell?

Zoro wasn’t sure how to feel. I mean, he knew he looked great in this disguise. In fact, he felt great in this. Although, he’d never admit this to Franky, knowing he’d never be able to live it down. But being fawned over in this sort of costume, especially with this level of theatrics was making him … flustered. Never had someone looked into his eyes, held his hand, and said earnestly that he was beautiful. Never had someone stared at him like he was a treasure that had been hidden for thousands of years, uncovered by just them. It was weird, sure, because he was being treated like a pretty girl … but, he had to admit it was getting to him.

If he ignored the woman part, it was a nice compliment, that’s what he was getting at.

So instead of speaking as he should have done, the agent just stared at the server with his ears pressed back and with a dumbfounded expression [think of the Megumi face]. The corner of his mouth twitched as if they had just made eye contact, staring at what felt like forever. His cheeks were heating up in a way they never had before. Not like he liked that guy or anything, this whole display was annoying!! [He’d take the compliment sure, but Sanji gets off your knees PLEASE] So flustered was the wrong word. Him, the great Zoro, getting flustered over some guy? Psh! He just was compliment starved or something!

The server paused and slowly let go of Zoro’s hand, standing up and shuffling away with a red face, mumbling something about pasta. Before he scurried off to clearly hide in the kitchen.

Franky burst out into laughter, slamming his fist loudly against the table, “Damn girl! You got him!! Even acting like that!” He smiled, wiping the corner of his eye with a large finger.

“Like what? All I did was ask for pasta,” the agent frowned, shifting around to get a better look at the Soul King who was chugging an unmarked bottle while his table chanted. What morons, he thought, rolling his eyes away from the scene.

“You know,” his colleague cleared his throat, bringing a glass of water Zoro didn’t notice had been placed there, to his lips, “Like a man! Slouching and shit.”

…Did women not slouch? He was weird, but he knew plenty of women who had mannerisms like that, deep voices, high voices, good manners- you name it. But they were still women. While he was in this get up, he was a woman. Regardless of how he acted, he wasn’t going to change himself to fit a societal expectation. If Franky thought he wasn’t being womanly, well, who even cared what Franky thought? He was some bull-headed rhino with a tusk for a nose!

Zoro decided not to say anything but nod along. If he thought being a woman meant sitting straight and talking like a baby, he sure as hell had never met a woman before.

Thirty minutes had passed before they saw Sanji again. They hadn’t gotten their food, but this wasn’t just your regular restaurant. It was notorious for taking a few hours for the experience. It was all about sitting down and enjoying the company of the person you chose to bring with you, so for Zoro it meant hell. He hadn’t gotten much progress in staring at Brook; Every time he thought the drop would happen it turned out to be just a prostitute going to powder her nose in the bathroom. Hey, he couldn’t judge. He was starting to feel a bit oily too, thankfully Usopp taught him how to powder and reapply lipstick.

The deer pranced over their way, a rose in his hand as he completely blocked the agent's view of the Soul King. Zoro furrowed his eyebrows and sat up, shooting a glare at the server. He didn’t seem to notice, instead handing him the rose with a smile. The man looked at the rose, then at Sanji, then the rose, then at Sanji again. Oh, this guy was going to be persistent.

“Yes?” The tiger asked, trying to sound polite but the flatness of his voice said otherwise. He never had many ranges in his voice, aside from when he got angry.

“For you, Nanami-swan,” the server nudged him with the rose. He was so shameless about it, doing it in front of the man Zoro’s fake identity was clearly on a date with. Franky couldn’t have cared less, watching for his own entertainment instead.

“Oh, thanks,” Zoro took the rose and looked down at it, before sticking it in his own cup of ice water, “Bye now.”

Sanji didn’t seem to hear the bye, instead going to speak again, “We have our own indoor garden on the second floor. I hand-picked that for you to ensure you had a great evening.” Great. I don’t care.

The green-haired male went to speak but he was interrupted, “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but” the antelope put his hand atop the others, which caused a weird feeling to arise in Zoro’s gut, “You have such captivating eyes.”

And the flush was back, causing him to just stare blankly at Sanji. His eye twitched this time, his palms beginning to feel just the right amount of uncomfortably sweaty with that soft and warm hand atop his own. How was this guy so soft? He had to lotion himself, or were those deer guys just naturally soft?

Not to mention, this guy was good at compliments. Zoro must have been very compliment-starved, all his words were catching him off guard. No other reason for feeling that- no not flustered, just … caught off guard! Yeah! No one spoke about his eyes, let alone called them captivating. To him they were just … dark. Dark and brooding perhaps? Well, I take that back, Franky called his eyes soulless once. They were soulless, dark, and they were brooding. They weren’t captivating. He was beginning to suspect this guy was just saying anything to get into the tiger's pants.

Before he could speak, the blonde was gone and going to another table. Great, now he was sweaty and left to stew over what he could have said. Zoro stood up from his seat, taking the small clutch purse Usopp had recommended for the evening in his hand, “Bathroom,” he mumbled, pointing his free hand to his face. He was not going to use the bathroom in this get-up. He wasn’t sure how women did it without getting the dress inside the toilet. He wasn’t going to bother.

Franky nodded his head and took a sip of water, turning his head over to the skeleton as his colleague walked away. Brook was doing nothing of importance since the drop was oh so many hours away. Why couldn’t they have gotten there closer to the drop? Nami was always so damn particular about everything, it had to be early, and it had to be when she said so. That’s why she was such a good leader, everyone was terrified of what she’d say if you objected.

The bathroom was easy to find, just tucked in the corner beside the entrance. There were three floors to the restaurant, the first of which was for the host to check you in and for general waiting. The second was the garden room, more of a middle-class seating area. The room was littered with distinct kinds of foliage, making it seem like a homely cafe rather than a fancy restaurant. However, the third floor was where the criminals were hosted. Zoro wasn’t sure if it was owned by another company, but it was completely different. It had a fancier feel, something he’d see out of a mob movie.

If anything, this whole place was a sketchy front for something much worse. But he didn’t have the evidence for that.

He walked into the bathroom and set the clutch bag on the counter. The mirror was big, perfect enough for many women to crowd around and touch up their makeup. Thankfully, he was alone, aside from a few women in some stalls. The man paid them no attention as he pulled out a small compact and a puff. Makeup was so complex, it even confused him. Every step had to be taken exactly right or the whole routine would turn flat. It could take minutes to mere hours, that’s where he didn’t understand it. How could someone spend so much time on that stuff when they could be doing anything else, like collecting swords?

God, Zoro missed his swords. He knew that was weird, but when he was away who was there to polish them? Who was going to dust them off every night? He’d have to give them extra care the next morning because he knew they’d be missing his touch. They were his babies, in all seriousness. If anything happened to his wide collection, he’d lose it.

As he was lightly pressing powder into his nose, an older deer entered the bathroom. She looked to be about sixty, with grey hair pulled into an intricate style, with a large tuft covering one of her eyes, and greying ears hanging from either side of her head. The man didn’t pay much attention to her as she stood beside him and propped her own bag onto the countertop. She looked familiar, but he didn’t want to stare. He had met a lot of women in his line of work who were criminals. She was one of them.

With a slight sigh, Zoro rummaged into his bag for the lipstick. It was a small tube that could have easily fallen out, and he was beginning to suspect he dropped it. There was no way he had! He was so careful! But, as he kept scouring, he couldn’t find it. It wasn’t inside the clutch, even as he emptied it out onto th-

Clank.

And there fell a handgun onto the countertop.

The agent froze, staring blankly at the gun. How could he have forgotten he packed a gun? How did he not, I don’t know, see it, and think to himself, ‘Let’s not empty out this clutch for I have a GUN INSIDE IT!?’ Especially, since he had dropped it in front of a civilian. An older woman, no less, who was unsuspectingly applying a dusty shade of coral to her lips. She hadn’t seemed to notice the gun as Zoro scrambled to get it back inside the bag.

But then, she glanced over and looked down at the shiny metal thing that caught her eye. She … strangely enough, didn’t seem too bothered by it. Instead, she went back to looking at her reflection and murmured, “Good idea.”

He blinked slowly and placed his hand overtop the gun, moving it back into the clutch without a sound. I mean, the top floor was riddled with criminals. Was it hard to believe anyone seated up there didn’t arm themselves? But the bathroom was at the entrance, and the restaurant had two floors. One floor had to be the one opened to the public, the front where they could appear as normal and quant as they liked. Then, of course, the third floor was housing the Soul King of all skeletons!

“You know. My son works on the top and I always tell him, ‘You need to arm yourself. It’s dangerous!’ But he never listens,” she shook her head and put the cap back onto her own lip product, pressing her lips together, “Maybe he gets that stubbornness from his father…” The woman looked at Zoro and smiled, the wrinkles on her face pulling back slightly and creasing around her eyes.

The man nodded slowly, his cat-like ears flattening a bit as he spoke, “Yeah.” That’s all he could muster himself to speak, closing the small bag and pressing it close to his stomach. She wasn’t scared, but she was used to this. Watching her in this light, being face to face with the woman, she looked so familiar. But he just couldn’t put his finger on it.

“If you are dining on the third floor,” the older deer continued, pushing some hair behind her twitching ear, “Be careful. Apparently, some FBI agents are coming to arrest that, uhm, skeleton man. It’s going to be a blood bath. I told my son, ‘Don’t work tonight!’ But he insisted on being there to help in case it went sour, you know. He’s so kind. I had to come and see him.”

They had a mole.

Zoro felt his ears begin to ring as the woman continued. They had a mole? Someone knew about their operation. His mind began to run through names, someone who could have revealed such confidential information. It couldn’t have been himself and Franky was too stupid and dedicated to telling a soul. Not Usopp, he signed so many NDA’s that it would kill him to dare cross the fucking FBI of all places! It had to be someone else he didn’t know, someone in the background of the operation that handled all the messy details he didn’t need to worry about.

The tiger decided not to let Franky know, but instead keep it to himself. If they were discovered, the last thing they should be doing was talk about it in public where someone could hear. As he approached the table, he saw his enemy, that damn server, striking up a conversation with his co-worker. Simply great, he had been waiting for him to get back. This love-server-cook was starting to get on his nerves. Sure, his compliments made Zoro feel all nice and fluffy inside. And sure, they were coming from a genuinely heartfelt place- but it was just annoying! He had a job to do! Even if they were, three-Ish hours from the drop.

Three hours? God!! Couldn’t this skeleton make it interesting and, I don’t know, throw a bomb at them? Speed this up!

Zoro shook his head and cleared his throat, causing Sanji to turn on his heel and gape at him, “Oh Ms. Nanami-swan! I’m so glad you’re back!” The man smiled tightly and shuffled back into his seat, sitting down and sighing. Is this what it meant to be a pretty girl? Always having men come up and try to fuck you? It was irritating.

“Hey,” he nodded to the server then turned to Franky, “Anything interesting?” He raised an eyebrow as his colleague shook his head to signal a bored no. Clearly, he was feeling it too. He could use this server to cure his boredom. Doing a quick glance, he could see that the Soul King was busy laughing loudly with his posse, so there was nothing to check for now.

This deer-antelope guy could serve as entertainment for now.

“What’s your name again?” Zoro asked him, turning his head and letting his long blonde hairbrush against his cheek. It was a direct blow to Sanji’s ego, even if it was accidental. He could tell from the way he paused, and his eyes widened.

“Sanji,” he spoke, a little frown pulling at his lips. Well, shit. He didn’t mean to make him sad. It’s not Zoro’s fault the guy has the most unmemorable name on the entire planet!

The tiger pressed his red lips together and looked at the rose sitting in his ice water, “I really like the rose you gave me.” His eyes slid over to the server, and he smiled just a bit, “It was really nice.” There wasn’t a reason to be rude to the guy even if he was a total pain in the ass. And he needed something to pass the time, so idle conversation would do for now.

However, the conversation was cut short because Sanji instantly got a nosebleed. His cheeks reddened and he covered his nose as blood gushed down his chin. Oh … great. Without speaking he awkwardly pointed to the kitchen and made a B-line for it, squashing any chance of conversation. Zoro looked to the side with disinterest, blinking slowly. Well, so much for entertainment.

Two hours passed with no word from Sanji and strangely enough, no food. It was one thing to have a dining experience with appetizers and drinks being served at your leisure, but they were the only table without an entrée. This whole operation stunk. Not only was the infamous Soul King doing nothing but laughing and making a mockery of himself, but he was doing just that!! Nothing!!! What a lame ass night!

Franky was trying to occupy himself by folding his cloth napkin into various shapes that didn’t hold, while Zoro was staring up at the ceiling. At this point, if Brook was going to do nothing the two agents at least deserved to eat. He was going to get up and complain, maybe talk a cook's ear off so he would get his damn pasta sooner, but finally, something happened.

An older man entered the restaurant from behind him, stalking past his right. He wouldn’t have paid attention if it weren’t for the fact that he was headed toward Humming Brook’s table. That’s what caused the man to sit up and nudge his partner with his foot. Franky sat up and furrowed his brow, about to speak when Zoro kicked him and moved his head toward the back table. That old guy had to be Sukiyaki, here early for the drop. It was strange, why was he here so early? It didn’t make sense for the leak to know one time but for it to instead be another. Unless their leak had tried sending them misinformation to get them off track, making them miss the target time. At that moment, Zoro had to really appreciate what Nami did for them. Even if it was fucking irritating how early she made him arrive at operations.

The man, who was presumed to be Sukiyaki Kouzuki, approached the table and raised his hand in a greeting. He didn’t speak from what the agents could hear but instead motioned to sit at the table with them. Brook sat up straighter and said something, as the older man nodded in agreement. He wore older attire, which led Zoro to believe they had the right man. All those groups wore vintage stuff. It was their code, how they found each other. He never understood it, but he didn’t want too either.

“Do you think the drops even tonight?” Franky asked, keeping his voice above a hushed whisper, “What if the leak lied and this isn’t the guy?”

Zoro shook his head, “No this has to be. An hour earlier isn’t anything. Maybe she just got confused,” he replied, looking down at the table, “We need to find a way to hear what they’re saying.”

“Let me bug the table,” Franky smirked.

His coworker frowned, “You are not.”

“I can totally bug the table.”

“Do not- FRANKY!” Zoro reached his hand over the top of the table, trying to grab the buffer man across from him. But he was too late, as the rhino got up and winked at him. Of course, he was reckless, and he was stupid. He was going to do something stupid and get both killed at that rate. It would be better than just sitting around, he supposed. I mean, if Franky did something that made them obvious to those bunch the worst that would happen would be some shallow gun wounds. And he could handle that.

Franky strode over to the table, catching their eye instantly. He looked like one of them; If Roronoa didn’t know him he would’ve thought that at least. They spoke for a few seconds, and he placed his hand on the table. It was a subtle move, trying to put the bug down somewhere, on the table or a saltshaker, without them noticing.

Then he stood back up, pointing back at the other agent and laughing. Zoro had to admit, he was charismatic. Even if he was an idiot, he was a good talker. That’s one thing that he, himself, lacked. His voice was always so flat, and he always thought with logic rather than noting how people felt, unless, of course, he really liked them. Feelings just got in the way of working a case. It was better to use logic than do something irrational.

It was starting to look off, though, when his partner wasn’t returning from the table. They were all talking, Brook sitting up and looking at him with intensity. If Zoro didn’t know any better, he’d say they were found out and Franky was being held at- oh shit.

The man put a hand on his clutch. The gun was still inside if he ever needed it. With the way these things were going, he would need it. He stood, trying not to make the fact he was aware of the situation known. He could still pretend to be oblivious in the face of danger up until the moment it was about to kill him.

“Oh Nanami-swan do you need anything?” Just the voice he did not want to hear. He wanted this server, and all these guests, as far away from the impending altercation as humanly possible. Zoro knew it would get ugly and Zoro knew, just like that older lady prophesied, it was going to be a bloodbath. If he could simply get to Franky… if he could simply avoid the damn server.

So, he did just that, he ignored Sanji’s voice and walked past him to the Soul King’s table. The agent donned a smile and placed his hand on his colleague's arm, looking to face the menace himself. Up close and personal, he could truly see what held brook together. The bones were almost melted together, a disgusting shade of off white. Almost yellow, like they had been baked in the sun and left to rot. His hair was infested with bugs. As he approached, he could simply smell the scent of death radiating off the skeleton. And there, in his bone hand, was a gun. It was pointed to Franky’s stomach, but not pressed against it.

“Oh, who’s the lovely lady?” The skeleton turned his attention to Zoro. Of course, he knew who his fake identity was. He had to have been playing stupid, she was a part of Sukiyaki’s Pirate lyn- Whatever! Zoro chose to stay silent, looking over at Franky, who … didn’t seem phased. He had a plan going on inside his head on how to get out of this, he was sure, so the other wasn’t too focused on his expressionless face. For being an idiot, he knew how to navigate some situations.

“This is my girl,” Franky put his arm around Zoro and pulled him in, pressing something to his back, “Zoro Roronoa.”

…

Zoro froze, his body tensing at the realization that the object pressed against his back wasn’t a hand but a gun. He couldn’t move, or he’d be shot in the spine [duh], and he didn’t want to cause a scene. The worst thing he could do was cause a panic and let the Soul King get away. And … Franky. He couldn’t let Franky get away without explaining himself. This had to be a ploy, a technique he hadn’t told his coworker about to better further their plan: their operation.

The gun pointed at the rhino, and slowly turned to the tiger, “You know Zoro, I think we would’ve made such great friends if you got to know me.” Brook giggled, that notorious cackle. It was spine-chilling. It was God awful. It sent a shiver down his spine as he was trying to think. A weak spot, a way to get out, a vanishing point. Something that he could use and something he could get out with.

“Zoro’s does not like us. He’s not down with the times,” Franky chided, tauntingly, in his co-worker's ear. It was ironic, all of them in such vintage wear complaining about him being out of touch. Really, he could laugh if he wasn’t about to die.

“Now!” The Soul King grinned, his skeletal face pulling back grotesquely, “You’re going to vacate the premises and let us do our deal quietly. Or I’ll just have to, I don’t know, kill you and everyone else!” If he was anyone else, he would have taken the offer and let himself be defeated. If he was anyone else that is.

Instead, Zoro let out a breath and stepped on Franky’s foot, digging the heel of his stiletto into his toes. He yelped and dropped the gun, giving him a split-second window of opportunity. But before he could even use his legs and kick the table forward onto the drug lord as he intended to do, there was a gunshot, and he felt two hands grab his shoulders. He didn’t feel it at first until the throbbing sensation began to fill his hip. It was a slow and dull pain, that grew fiery and more intense with every breath he exhaled. A taunt, and a warning. It was the gun that sounded off and silenced everyone's chatter, made the cooks look up, and made the man who pulled him away glare ahead at them.

The agent looked up, finding himself lying flat on his back. The table had fallen back onto Brook, and the gun was nowhere in sight. Had he flipped the table like he intended before he was shot? The man tried to sit up and assess the situation, get eyes on Franky, and put an end to this, but someone put a hand on his shoulder and forced him down. He looked over, squinting at the light blinding his eyes as he tried to find who was holding him back. He was a damn FBI agent for crying out loud! He could handle himself.

“There’s a strict no-shooting our guest's policy,” Sanji spoke coldly, standing up and pointing a hand over to the drug lord, “Especially, our female guests. I’m going to have to ask you to surrender your gun while we call the authorities.”

Was this guy an idiot? Telling a criminal that they had to surrender their gun to a server and do nothing while they call the cops? Oh my god. He was a civilian, the most he could do was evacuate the building while the real authority was able to deal with this bullshit.

Zoro didn’t wait, he sat up and pushed the curly-browed server out of his way as he stood, “Shove it,” he grumbled, attempting to ignore the searing pain building in his side. This was different from the other times he had been shot. It felt as though the bullet was lodged between two discs if that’s even how his hip bones worked, making every movement a grinding mess.

The Soul King pushed the table from his person onto the agent, causing him to stumble back as he gripped it. His heels dug into the tile as he halted himself and shoved it toward Franky, who was just standing there like the useless traitor he was. Another gun, more like a flurry of guns, pointed and cocked in the tiger's direction. All from Brook’s posse and all ready to kill him at any given moment.

He had to say, if he was going to go out in this dress and makeup, he was going to make it badass.

Zoro glanced at Sanji, who was gawking at him, “Get out will you?!” He barked, motioning to the rest of the restaurant as he looked at the drug lord, “Let me handle this!” And it was a split second before the chaos ensued.

I know, reading this there are lulls and pauses between each event. But I want you, the reader, to imagine that everything is happening back-to-back to back-to-back, no pauses, no breaths.

The guns went off and before he knew it, he was ducking and diving to force the antelope onto the ground. He fell onto his side, the side that didn’t hurt yet, but on top of the server. The man crouched and rolled onto his side, trying to find his clutch. While getting shot and thrown to the ground he dropped it somewhere, losing his gun. Bullets flew past him as he got onto his knees and pounced on a nearby prostitute. Bullets flew from before and behind him, clearly these guests had motives to defend themselves. Not that cook, who just laid there petrified.

The woman shrieked as he pulled her down onto the ground, tussling until he managed to get the gun out of her hands. He cocked it and ducked down behind the drug lord's booth, peering over, and shooting a few bullets at the Soul King. It was a mistake, as one bounced off his bones and aimed itself right back at him. The agent ducked his head back and heard the bullet hit someone else, causing a scream to erupt. He turned his head to see a large man, burly and blonde, with the fury of ten thousand men building in his face as he hunched over.

Oh, Zoro was going to get in so much shit for this.

He looked over at Sanji who was now trying to crawl back into the kitchen. Good. If he could escape it would be one casualty, he wouldn’t feel guilty over. The man turned his attention to Brook who was … gone!? And Franky was missing too. They escaped during the chaos when his guard was down. When he was worried about that stupid server. Of course!

Roronoa stood up and dusted himself off. The gunshots had gone down, and it had turned more so into a bloody mess. People running, screaming, shooting occasionally, and fist fighting for their lives. Yeah, he would be in shit for this. He turned his attention to the booth where the two most important guests had gone. By this point they were going to escape, in that car that Franky had driven them in, giving the agent no way to follow. He was trying to think, trying to plan, but the pain in his side was getting worse. Bullets like this were easy to ignore in high stress situations, but this was different. It hit something, something bad. But… he had to ignore it, right? For the sake of catching Humming Brook and for putting him away for the last time.

“Sanji!” He found himself calling out, stumbling over to the kitchen, and forcing the door open, even if it protested. The kitchen staff were hiding underneath tables and behind countertops, clearly unprepared for such a disaster. That lady was right, they should’ve been armed or better yet not have shown up tonight.

Zoro called out the deer’s name again and saw his head poke out from behind a table. He rushed to the server and pressed his lips together, “Do you have a car?”

“Ma’am I don’t think it’s a safe idea to leave right now,” he spoke unsurely, motioning back to the door where the chaos was getting louder.

“Answer me Curly,” he gritted, trying his hardest not to strangle the server.

Sanji exhaled, “Yes I have a car.” Perfect.

“I’m commandeering your vehicle. FB…I…” Zoro placed his hand on his hip, before realizing he didn’t have pockets or his clutch, where his wallet was … where his badge was. His eyes hardened with annoyance, and he looked away, trying his best not to seem disheartened by the fact he was going to lose this case all through his simple mistakes. Was it his fault that Franky was some stupid double agent? Was it his fault that he didn’t catch it sooner? I mean, he was one of the best agents on the force! How could he not realize that the rhino was really for the drug lord this whole time? It was something that he should have known, or at the very least suspected.

The server’s face was neutral, barely showing off any thoughts rattling in his brain although the other man was sure he was full of them. I mean, the woman you had been fawning over all night turns out to be a super cool FBI agent? Of course you’re going to have questions.

He pulled the car keys out of his back pocket, “Take it.” Zoro did, looking them over for a moment before clutching them into a fist, “I hope you can drive stick.”

Are.

You.

KIDDING.

ME!??!?!

“You can’t be serious.”

“Of course, I’m serious! Stick is the best way to drive, you know.”

This could not be happening. The one way out to find the one criminal boss he had been searching for, for years was coming crashing down over the fact he never learned how to drive stick shift. I mean, it never really mattered to him, he wasn’t a car guy. Swords were where his interest piqued, but there weren’t that many kinds of swords or ways to handle them that differed. Learning stick had never been a priority for him, as he never did a lot of driving when it came down to his job. His partners always preferred it because he had a history of crashing company vehicles.

Sanji must have seen the expression dawning the other man's face, a mixture of annoyance and pure defeat, as he stood up and grabbed ahold of his hand, “I’ll drive.” Okay he really was an idiot. He couldn’t have a civilian with him, that was a bigger risk than anything he had pulled tonight. Especially since, if something happened, Nami would have to terminate him for endangering his life. It was a huge risk, something that could easily end his career. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t exactly go out there and ask everyone to stop their fighting so he could take someone's automatic keys.

“Fine.”

The two men rushed down the stairs to the lobby, where Brook and Franky were busy shouting. It was a relief to see they still hadn’t left yet, but another heaving sigh to see it was a chef who was stopping them from exiting. What was with these stupid blonde workers getting themselves into trouble when the real authorities could handle it? Zoro put a hand onto the server's chest to stop him from walking any further down the steps, lest they be caught and shot at once.

The man was the same man who had been shot by Brook’s ricochetting bullet, shouting at them like they were nothing more than measly children who had gotten into trouble at school. He didn’t fear them at all; he looked like he could take both on without batting an eye.

“Do you bastards know how hard it’s gonna be to clean up this damn restaurant because you wanted to sell some fucking drugs!?” He shouted, shaking his fist at the two of them. The older gentlemen didn’t even seem to care that Franky was pointing his gun directly at his stomach, or that Brook was also aiming a firearm at him.

“Zeff, you have got to be kidding me,” Sanji breathed out, a look of terror riddled on his face. Zoro knew he had a few more seconds to act before the two criminals noticed him and the guns were turned in their direction. So, in the heat of the moment, he decided to cock his gun and shoot Franky in his shoulder. It would be a shallow wound that wouldn’t kill him but disarm him in that moment and for the time being.

Franky let out a gasp and clutched his shoulder, turning and pointing his gun to the stairwell. The agent pushed the server down the steps and dove down, trying to evade the flurry of bullets sent his way from both Brook and his fellow agent. A few passed him but a lot of them dug deep inti his skin. A pang of nausea swelled in the base of his throat as his vision turned white. Bullets hit his shoulders, his arms, causing him to bite back bile and bite his tongue, stopping vomit from coming up and covering his dress.

The antelope grabbed the tiger, pulling him up and gaffing, “We have to go! They’re getting away you- get up!” He pulled on Roronoa’s arm as he sat there, on his hands and knees. The man felt his breathing become shallow, heaving into the ground as he tried to ground himself. It was a different kind of feeling. Had he been shot these many times, or had he? Had he been shot before? Maybe he was shot before… Maybe he was never shot...? They were getting away, but that was so far… Getting up was far. If he could just stay like this for a second and rest, then he’d get up and catch Jack Skellington and Moto Moto… whatever their names are…

Zoro’s arm was numb, he couldn’t feel the fact Sanji was trying to drag him forward as he heaved. He didn’t hear his words, but instead a ringing sensation deep in his ear drums. Was this what death was like? It was so comforting. Just … to close his eyes for a little bit and rest them. Then he’d get up. Yeah…

“GET UP!” He felt a stinging sensation form across his face, causing the agent to gasp and heave, choking on air and impending vomit. The man leaned his head back, reveling in the fact his senses were starting to come back into his body. Was he… slapped? No, he couldn’t have been. Zoro looked over to the server who was staring at him with wide eyes, his hair pushed back to show both of his eyes. When were they blue? When were they so piercing?

No- focus.

Zoro shook his head and looked down, puke and slobber littering his hands. Okay, gross, when did he do that? Whatever, he blinked a few more times and lifted his arm, trying to feel for Sanji. Once he got ahold of the other man’s hand, he pulled himself up and exhaled. He had a job to do. Afterward, he could nap, yeah, napping would solve it. Just a long… long nap.

“Where did they…” The agent began, but he saw the drug lord and his cronies as they were scurrying across the parking lot. It had only been a few seconds but God it felt like years. He nodded his head and pulled the other along, fumbling his hands for the keys. No, Sanji had the keys. Right. Right. He looked over at him, “I want you to follow that car no matter what.”

The antelope nodded in turn, clicking his keys on to show his car. It was … dated, to say the least. Roronoa wasn’t a car guy, but he knew an old car when he saw it. It looked polished, and very well taken care of. Something that couldn’t go up past, say, 65? Which, if this was going where he thought it was going to go, it would be an issue. It didn’t have a hood, but instead an open-concept design. Maybe it was some ancient convertible that didn’t even look like a convertible.

As they dashed to the car, they could hear gunshots sounding a few cars ahead before a loud screech. They were leaving and they were leaving fast. Zoro threw himself over and into the car, although he didn’t have to because his colleague opened his own car door and closed it behind himself daintily.

“Start it up!” He grumbled, situating himself and craning his neck to look over where Brook was heading. Sanji turned the car on and backed it out, oh-so-slowly, causing an impending aneurysm to form in the agent's skull.

“I’m going you- you!” The server bit back, hitting the gas and turning his car to follow the other vehicle. Humming-Brook and Franky were already down the road, but not far enough that they lost sight. Going stick shift was mildly annoying, as Sanji had to continuously shift gears until they got to a speed that the tiger was able to approve of.

They gained, instantly, on the Soul King. Zoro lifted himself up and cocked his gun, noting he didn’t have a lot of ammo left before it would be useless. He pointed at it, and before he could shoot a bullet flew and hit the side of the barrel, sending it flying out of his palm and onto the road.

“ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS!?” He screeched, gawking at the car in front of them. Brook, in the passenger seat, was chortling his annoying ass laugh in their direction, waving his gun around before aiming it again. Zoro ducked down and grabbed onto Sanji’s steering wheel, in the heat of the moment turning it to the left to avoid a flurry of bullets coming their way.

“NANAMI-SWAN HOLD ON!” Sanji screamed, swatting her hand away and swerving back into their lane. They rode up into the median, narrowly avoiding a few trees as they attempted to settle back into their own lane. The two were gaining speed, but the closer they got it was going to give Humming Brook an advantage of shooting them at close range. It was utterly terrifying being this close and this fast on a road that he swore would’ve been busier by now.

If Zoro could simply get into the vehicle and crash it, they could hold him off until the rest of the FBI got there.

Then it hit him, “Sanji. Pull up beside Franky.” He pulled himself up onto the seat, heels digging into the leather as he tried to steady himself. It was one chance he got to jump onto the other car and crash it. It was one shot he had or else he knew it would end up terrible for him. The last thing he needed was to be paralyzed after such a night. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, so much so he was beginning to forget the number of times he was shot. Who cared? He could always just … go to the hospital after this. And take a long nap… Yeah.

“Pull up!? But Nanami-swan, what if they shoot you?” Sanji was already pulling up as he spoke, knowing the agent knew what was best. But it didn’t stop him from sounding a bit anxious. God these wind speeds were making the man regret this wig. The blonde strands were blowing in his face and sticking to his red-painted lips, becoming utterly distracting.

Zoro looked back at the deer and smiled faintly, “Stop the car after and call the police, will ya?” The two exchanged eye contact, intense eye contact. It was an intensity the two shared in a mutual understanding. In a way, this was goodbye. In this case, Sanji was put into witness protection and left the state. In case Zoro was put into a coma. In case he never made it after this. And in case this was the last time they ever spoke. It was sad in a way, to say goodbye like this. In any other circumstances, he would have asked for a phone number to catch up with the man later. But this was better, wasn’t it? His identity was hidden, and the antelope would be protected.

In a way, it was good that it ended like this. Even if what they shared was one strange evening together, full of compliments and odd feelings, it was good it ended this short. Sanji nodded with determination. He understood what he had to do, and he understood what it meant. Even if they never spoke again, they had an understanding that transcended the server treating him nicely because he had the appearance of a beautiful woman.

Zoro turned his attention to the car beside them, as the server bumped their wheels together. It created a loud screeching noise, causing sparks to fly between the metal and litter the road. He had one shot to do this. One shot and then one last aim. If he could crash them into a tree on the median or take control and crash the car into the upcoming bridge, something, it would all be worth it. He would take down the Soul King. He would be victorious.

The agent jumped, and at that moment, he didn’t care if this was his final moment. He was going to win.

He tumbled inside the open concept car and grabbed ahold of the seats to steady himself. It was easy to be thrown into the back, but now he had to make sure he didn’t get shot again. God, that would be annoying. Zoro looked up and saw the Soul King pointing his gun directly into his forehead, a narrowed smirk adorning his bone-face.

“Oh, you just don’t know when to quit, do you?” He giggled, cocking the gun, and pressing the end deeper into the other's skin. If this was supposed to scare him, it didn’t anymore. He had nothing to lose, only something to gain. Knowing if Sanji had stopped by now the police were on their way, and soon the drug lord would be surrounded. If he died in the process, it would only serve to further his sentence. He’d even get the death penalty too if he was lucky.

Zoro grabbed the barrel of the gun and forced it up, letting it shoot into the air as they fought for it. Guns didn’t work on the skeleton, but he wasn’t aiming to shoot him. If he got ahold of that gun, he’d shoot the driver, Franky. If he shot Franky, it was a higher chance he’d lose control of the vehicle and crash. That’s what the agent was betting on. Just crash. The two struggled for the gun, until it flew out of their hands and onto the pavement. It broke into pieces, shattering behind the vehicle as it zoomed toward the bridge. It was a cement bridge that would total the car at the speed in which it was going. There was a slim chance any of them would survive, but it wasn’t zero for the Soul King. If guns didn’t work a car crash would immobilize him just long enough for the police to get there and handle it.

The agent lunged at Brook, grabbing ahold of his maggot infested hair, and pulling himself into the seat. That alone caused the car to swerve as Franky tried to adjust to the new weight beside him. He punched and punched, taking many hits back to his face as they tussled in the seat. It hurt, the bones digging into his skin as the skeleton grabbed ahold of his face. He was trying to poke out his eye, blind him and pop it in one go.

It was a searing pain in his left eye, as the Soul King stabbed him with one boney finger. Zoro screamed, threw his head back and hit Franky with it. He couldn’t see, feeling a cold rush of blood gush down his eye as he started to see black. Stars flooded his vision, speckling red and green as he almost threw up. Well, this was going to be permanent huh? So much for having 20/20 vision he supposed.

He gagged, trying his best to still be conscious and fought through the pain as he turned his head. Blood poured, dripping down his chin all over the seat of the car. He felt pain prickling in different areas of his body, but he couldn’t tell if that was Brook punching him or those gun wounds catching up to him. This was the end for Zoro, he realized shakily. Both hands grabbed ahold of the steering wheel, fighting Franky as he yanked it to the right. He kept pulling it, turning it further and further away from the road, closer and closer to the pillar of the bridge. Just a few more seconds, just a few more seconds, he thought. But it was getting harder to see, or even breathe. All he could feel was that pain in his hip and the pain in his eye. It was a hollow sensation, ringing deep in his brain as he faded in and out of consciousness.

His hands never let go of the steering wheel even as it faded into blackness. Followed by a terrible screech.

Sanji took the news that Miss. Nanami Teramoto was actually an FBI agent named Zoro Roronoa pretty well.

He didn’t really mind the fact that it was a man cross dressing that whole night, he didn’t care. Of course, he had been blinded by his beauty and that long lustrous hair. But when it came down to it, that wasn’t what made him visit the man at the hospital. It was the eye contact they shared before he was convinced, he had died.

It was the mutual understanding this would be the last time they ever spoke under this pretense, or truly the last time they spoke at all. He was sad at that moment, wishing he had at least said something more than nodding his head and doing as he was told. He wished he had said something cool so that Zoro could remember him by.

But he had time to make up for that and introduce himself to the real person he had interacted with that night. The real person that had captivated him. The person whose eyes bore into his soul, with their darkness and their intrigue. The person who he found his heart beating faster for.

Zoro.

He arrived awkwardly at the room, seeing the other man lying on the bed. The deer wasn’t sure if he was in a coma, or just asleep. From the looks of it, he was leaning more toward the coma. The tiger’s face was badly bruised and bloodied, swollen and half wrapped [and stitched] in more areas than one. His one eye was covered in gauze and a patch, and his hair was greasy. It was green, something the others hadn’t expected. He looked like … like he had moss on his head.

What a funny thought.

Sanji inhaled and sat down beside him on a chair, putting his hands in his lap. What were you supposed to do if someone was in a coma? He had seen enough movies to know you could talk to them and in some instances, they’d respond to you when they woke up, remembering the details of every word you had said. Or the moss-head wouldn’t remember, which would be less embarrassing if he decided to pour his heart out.

“Hey Zoro,” he spoke stiffly, brushing his hair past his cheek, “It’s Sanji. I’m the server from that night? I think you’d remember me.” Sanji let out a breath and looked away, trying to collect some kind of dignity, if he had any left. “You know. I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I’m not mad you’re a guy,” he glanced at the tiger, “I think it’s cool- uhm. You’re pretty cool for stopping a drug dealer in heels. Um…”

What else could he say that wouldn’t be totally weird?

“When you wake up, I want to, you know, take you out.” I can’t believe I’m doing this- “Maybe get some coffee and get to know each other. Instead of as Nanami, but as yourself.” The man closed his eyes tightly, a bit of embarrassment filling his face. Asking out a guy in a coma? Really weird. Not like he’d even respond either.

The antelope opened his eyes and looked at his lap, letting out a breath. He should probably leave. If he wasn’t family, there wasn’t a point in staying too long. So, he got up and headed to the door.

“Curly,” that voice made him stop in his footsteps, “Why don’t you get me some coffee from the cafeteria instead?”

Oh.

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