#hargrove rvb

[rvb-relationship-royale]

RVB Romantic Relationship Royale- Round 1, Part 3, Poll 11

[glassedplanets]

recreation/revelation

[sixsobbles]

I was too busy playing I Became A Dog and completely forgot I said I'd post this.

The Triplets 2.0 don't fit but I have done them. I'll post them whenever I post on here next I swear. Anyways enjoy the rest of PFL and CI‼️

Btw I think I'm real clever for the Sharkface design. My Insta because it has a lot more art on it.

[rvb-quotes-but-one-word-is-pussy]

RvB meme dump #3

[nevada-got-screwed-over]

Taglist: @averagejoey2000

Original Inspiration / Masterpost

Chapter 18 / Chapter 20

Theta!South AU. I Guess.

Chapter: 19

Words: “I am going to be sooo normal when RvB Restoration comes out” (3,356)

Cracking open an AI storage unit from the inside turned out to be the easy part. Finally through the last shell of code, Theta was buzzing with an exhausted mania. The circuits of the unit were running hot from his frantic tear through its security measures, and if he wasn’t careful, he might short it out.

Not that he was in any condition to do much more than wait in the void, staring at the empty storage unit around him. And the not-Delta light blue projection sitting next to him.

“Who are you?” Theta asked, breathless. He felt that the construct was a part of his code – not something melded with the storage unit’s security measures, but something born from his own meddling.

“Hell if I know,” The construct shrugged, his voice tinged with amusement. “I just work here.” He gestured to Theta, confirming the AI fragment’s intuition.

“I didn’t code a...custodian.” He huffed, slowly sitting up. The circuits were gradually cooling, but he didn’t want to overtax his own fraying code.

“Hey I didn’t ask to be made,” There was a bitter undercurrent in the construct’s voice that wavered against his prior blasé attitude. “Neither did you, I guess.”

“Are you...am I going rampant?” He didn’t have the energy to be afraid of the answer.

“Shit, I don’t know. Maybe? I’m not you’re fucking therapist.” The construct’s flippant demeanor returned. Theta wasn’t sure why he found it comforting. “I’m in charge of all those memories you’ve got. Same as how D’s in charge of logic and stats bullshit.” Theta jumped to his feet, the bolt of energy dangerously warming the circuits.

“Delta’s – you’re not an AI fragment. Delta – Delta’s not here.”

“Wow, great work Sherlock.” The construct shook his head. Even sitting, he was nearly Theta’s height. He poked a finger at his helmet, as best a holographic construct could. “Your memory of him is here. And you made some code to curate your memories, which is what I do.”

“You made a – a version of Delta? From my memories?”

“Jesus Christ what is so difficult about this kid – you made us! All of us! We’re parts of you!” The construct stood, gesturing wide with his arms. Most of the flickering multicolored constructs faded quickly, but Delta’s green glow remained.

“What Epsilon is trying to say is that, even though you are a fragment of the Alpha, your experiences and ability to learn from them have changed you.” His even tone soothed the storage unit’s overtaxed circuits. Theta was subconsciously aware he was executing a string of code to optimize the unit’s efficiency.

“See – leave it to D to remember dumb shit like that. Epsilon...wasn’t that Wash’s AI? The one that freaked out and –”

“You’re not real.” Theta said it like a question, but he knew the answer. Some childish, hopeful part of him didn’t want to be alone.

“Real is relative. We exist to execute and refine your own coding. In that manner, we are very real. We are not, however, the AI you remember us as.”

“I never met Epsilon.”

“But you heard of him. And, you were made from the Alpha. The piece of code for his memory is the same as yours, and both culminated as your own Epsilons.”

“So I’m not going rampant?” Theta flinched back from the silvery shadow echoing around him like a second set of armor. Iota – he remembered him, one of Carolina’s AI – the facet of fear. “I don’t want to hurt her.”

“In a psychological sense, no, you are not going rampant.” Delta’s glow was steady, his cadence perfectly staccato. “While there is only one case of an AI fragment supposedly experiencing rampancy,” Sigma’s amber shimmer was a passing haze in the void, “Rampancy is predicated on the four stages, and as you have yet to experience these in any meaningful manner, I find it highly unlikely that you are at risk of rampancy in your current state.”

The relief was nearly tangible, Eta’s golden shadow eclipsing his twin’s silvery shimmer.

“You’re fine, kid.” The Epsilon construct’s hand hovered over Theta’s shoulder, contact between their holographic forms impossible but the gesture understood. “We’ve got your back. Now get out there so you can watch hers.”

The electrifying panic and frazzled confusion of these revelations collapsed like the waveform of a light particle under observation. The void of the unit dimmed as the constructs faded, Theta’s anxiety quelled to an eerie calm. He wasn’t going rampant. He was...well, something.

But he wasn’t a threat to South.

And they were supposed to take care of each other. He couldn’t do that sitting in a storage unit. The circuits had cooled enough for him to safely feel out an escape route, the immediate area void of ports he could access. It didn’t take long to identify one he could, some lingering threads of code that reminded him of Delta refining his search.

The jump was long for an AI but instantaneous to human eyes, if any were present to observe the flicker of violet from the humming storage unit to the desk port. The rudimentary access to sensors in the room did not identify any life signs, so Theta felt safe to project his hologram as he poked at the system’s security and took in his surroundings.

He expected a storage facility, full of other abandoned AI units – maybe shoved on a shelf or stuffed in a crate. He didn’t expect the sterile, museum case exhibits full of Freelancer technology and artifacts. After spending so long fighting through memories and half-dreams-half-nightmares, Theta was frozen under the golden glare of the Meta’s helmet.

--

South was finding it hard to keep a straight face in the back of the limo (at the very least, Hargrove had class). The previously composed CEO was either not restraining himself from maintaining his aloof confidence, or he was simply too enraged to keep his composure.

Whatever he was hearing, it wasn’t good news.

“What do you mean – ? A…doesn’t simply fail. No, don’t…I’ll be there soon.”

South was only catching snippets of his grumbled conversation from her seat. This wasn’t going to be the controlled, poised introduction to working with Charon that Hargrove had planned for her.

“Everything good up there?” She rolled her eyes, ignoring how the hired muscle flanking her bristled as she spoke. If she was going to attack their boss, she wasn’t going to announce it. Hargrove shot her a glare and hung up the in-car phone. With a sigh his features smoothed, brow softened as he found the air of detached control that he had lost during the phone call.

“Yes. We’ll be arriving shortly.”

The compound was impressive, awash in white spotlights that made the insects flying in the night air glow like snowfall. Vaulted walls veiled in barbed wire – no doubt electrified – and the small private army of armor-clad security would be overkill for any UNSC installation. Charon had no such limitation in budget or motivation; the technology here was the best in the galaxy, after all. Not to mention that the massive cruiser on the launchpad several kilometers from the front gate had a pretty price tag too.

“Sir, the situation –” The armored guard cut themself off as South stepped out of the limo behind Hargrove.

“What? Your boss interrupted my beauty sleep.” South cracked a smile, knowing the guard’s apprehension wasn’t from shock at her bedraggled appearance. The eyes behind their visor betrayed a tense caution. They knew who she was. They knew what she was capable of. And they knew Hargrove had a pair of bodyguards keeping their pistols at the ready for good reason.

She was enjoying this perhaps a little too much, given her situation, but she took what little joy she could from the undercurrent of fear from the people around her. They were right to be afraid of an ex-black ops agent brought here against her will – even if she was here under Hargrove’s promise to return Theta. He said her soonest chance to kill him was months away, which gave her a wide window to prepare and plan.

At least, that’s what she told herself, ignoring the slam of the gates behind them and the hum of the electric fence. If Charon wanted to put her on a leash, she was going to make them regret it the second it loosened. Eventually.

--

He wasn’t entirely sure how he managed to jump directly into the wires, all that mattered was that he was out, and he wasn’t going to get caught again. Not there. Anywhere but there. Which turned out to be the mainframe of the place he found himself in.

Theta could feel the structure’s internal security measures kicking in, hunting him down like he was a virus. Which, he probably resembled in his fragmented state and with his expertly targeted attacks against the hapless security programs. He had plenty of practice cracking into security systems when he helped South and the other mercenaries break into buildings – how much harder could a Halberd-class destroyer be?

The system was massive; it wouldn’t be difficult to hide from the sub-optimal security code, but Theta couldn’t hide forever. He needed to know where he was. Where South was. And he needed a plan to get back to her.

Where exactly was he? A former Insurrectionist ship, apparently. The Staff of Charon wasn’t UNSC registered; this was a private vessel, which was difficult to fathom given the sheer amount of personnel and firepower it carried. Theta had concocted hundreds of contingency plans for UNSC discovery and capture – the privately operated Charon wasn’t something he planned for.

He pushed back against his anxiety; the fears and whispers that he couldn’t face this unknown combated with solid logic: if he was here, South was likely present on-board as well. Given the amount of classified Freelancer technology on-board, himself included, the entity responsible for his capture had violated several regulations. If Charon put this much time and energy into collecting baubles from the most infamous black-op of the Great War, they wouldn’t toss a neural-implanted and experienced soldier into some UNSC cell – she would talk.

Theta didn’t entertain the most efficient way they could keep her quiet. South wasn’t helpless without him. She was fine. She had to be – he could prove it when he found her.

He needed to find South, and to do that, he would need to commandeer some of the ship’s auxiliary systems – access to cameras, audio and hologram devices, whatever he could wrench away from the system's control. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too conspicuous…

If it was, he was sure door controls wouldn’t be too difficult to add to his newly refined processing powers. If he could control the ship, he could find South and control their means of escape.

--

She had the instinct to scheme – to plan and take inventory of possible routes of escape – despite her earlier resolve to accept whatever consequences came from this ‘opportunity.’ Despite knowing that she couldn’t fight her way out of this, not even if she had Theta. But the power armor in front of her was a tempting suggestion that she could, somehow, fight the crushing inevitability of her situation.

The changing room was clinical and bare, the harsh white lights illuminating the sleek armor pieces. They were plain and dark, hardly a different color from the undersuit, but clearly a technological upgrade from her former armor.

South turned the recon helmet over in her hands, running a thumb over the empty AI port. She was acutely aware of her own empty neural implant, the small pieces of medical grade metal shifting under her skin as she shrugged her shoulders and cracked her neck. Once she had Theta, it didn’t matter if she was reduced to taking orders from Hargrove or running for the rest of her life.

As long as they did it together; they were supposed to look after each other, after all.

There were no enhancements and – predictably – no weapons with the armor, leaving it uncomfortably light. Maybe this new power armor was just made lighter, or maybe she was still itching to put a bullet through Hargrove’s smug smile and he was wise to take measures to prevent that.

But the texture of the undersuit against her skin, the sound of armor pieces snapping into place…there was a veneer of nostalgia and familiarity keeping her from flinching away from the soldier staring back at her from the mirror. The helmet clicked softly as it connected with the undersuit, her hastily tied back hair too long to be comfortable in the helmet.

(How the hell did Carolina ever put up with this? She would have to find someone to bother about a haircut – she doubted Hargrove would give her the safety scissors to do it herself.)

South didn’t bother softening her glare at the CEO as she stepped out into the armory – not that he could see it through the tint of her visor. She loathed to be defenseless in a room full of weapons she wasn’t allowed to touch. Or at the very least, she would be shot before she could touch them. Dozens of soldiers milled about, some in power armor and others basic uniforms, but they all gave Hargrove and his goons a wide berth.

“I hope the armor is to your liking.” He marched onward through the compound, South following even as a pair of armored soldiers flanked her. At the very least, Hargrove’s paranoia that she was a threat to him was boosting her confidence.

“It’s...new.” She grumbled, the HUD incredibly basic and awkwardly formatted as she scanned over the faces that passed by. How she missed her old HUD – both her power armor and modified helmet were optimized by Theta to match her preferences. Hopefully he could work with this new interface.

“War drives ingenuity. It’s a pity you Freelancers didn’t stay in the UNSC fold at the end of the war. Even if your specialized equipment excelled, you certainly missed out on many wonderful advancements in power armor.”

“I’m sure we did.” South squinted as they exited the compound, an armored vehicle waiting in the early morning sun.

She looked toward the massive ship in the distance, dread setting in her bones. It was just short of a miracle she had made it back to her homeplanet in one piece, so many other soldiers never did. Was this the last sunrise she would see, or would she be lucky enough to come home again?

Part of her grieved the missed opportunity to reconnect with the family that had buried an empty casket for her.

Part of her was glad she had one less painful goodbye to make.

The loading bay of the massive cruiser – or maybe it was a destroyer? - was thrumming with activity when they arrived. That much she expected from a ship preparing to break atmosphere, but there was a certain anxiety to the movements of staff and soldiers alike. The longer she watched Pelican pilots hover by their crafts and technicians cluster around control panels, the more she was convinced this was the source of Hargrove’s earlier frustrations.

“Something wrong?” She asked innocently enough as Hargrove led her to one of the quieter hallways, still bustling with black and red armored bodies. Her hands kept twitching for a weapon, memories of armor too much like this tugging at her instincts.

“Nothing at all.” His smug confidence was strained. “Preparation before moving a vessel of this class can be taxing for the personnel.”

“Sure…” She did not bother to pretend to sound convinced.

Their small group managed to make it to what South assumed to be the upper decks as armor was traded for sleek, professional uniforms. Here the bustle thinned, enough so that South could overhear the hushed whispers of technicians as they passed.

“Is it a virus? I thought the firewalls...”

“The UNSC wouldn’t have…”

“We are not paid enough to deal with…”

“...cyberterrorism? At the very least its a huge security failure...”

Gears were turning in South’s mind, the situation beginning to take shape. She had stopped walking as the realization hit her. Hargrove and his body guards were just a few paces too far ahead to drag her along before the bulkhead doors closed, isolating her in a single section of the ship.

“South!” The tinny voice made her heart swell, tears pricking at her eyes in bittersweet relief. “You’re okay! I’m sorry I don’t know how I got caught – I, don’t be mad, I – I tried to...it was hard to get out but –”

“I’m just glad you’re okay T.” South grinned up at the security cameras in the corner of the ship segment. She was half-sure she could hear Hargrove raging and shouting orders on the other side of the bulkhead. The flutter of hope in her heart drifted back to quiet stillness. “I don’t know how much you know about what’s going on, but –”

“I can – they haven’t locked me out of the door controls yet, if you give me a few I can – we can get out and –”

“Theta,”

“I’m still working on getting into the – the main controls, but I can get you to the armory I think, and from there –”

“Theta listen.” South grimaced at the snap in her voice. “We can’t...leave.” The words were bitter to say aloud. Theta stuttered over the beat of silence that followed, his voice tinged with desperate denial.

“I – well I’m trying to fix that. I think I can –”

“Theta, what did North ask us to do?” She sucked in a breath, Theta’s silence thick and dull. North had become an anchor for them both, his code name a trigger to find focus.

“We’re supposed to take care of each other.” His voice was so soft despite the speakers it crackled from.

“Does it matter where?”

“I don’t – we can get out, South. Just, just give me a little bit more time.” South could hear the plasma cutters biting through durasteel on the other side of the bulkhead, fighting for direct access to the control panel.

“Theta, we are fucked – assuming we can get off this ship, what do we do on the ground?” She shook her head, her own frustration bleeding into her exasperation. “There’s miles without cover between this launch pad and the border of this – this is a Charon compound, Theta. You can hack a ship, but what can I do against a private army of these fuckers?” Her shoulders sagged. “I know it isn't fair but –”

“It’s not fair!” The anger, the childish indignant shriek of his voice reverberated through the small space, South wincing at the volume. He sounded painfully and desperately human in a way she had never heard him sound before. “It’s not – it’s not fair...I don’t want to – we’re supposed to…”

“We’re supposed to watch each other’s back. Best way we can do that now is by sticking together.” South kept her voice soft, words husky through the helmet’s filter. “I’m sorry, Theta. He...he had you before I realized it, and he threatened the Wu’s. Accepting his terms was the best I could think to do to get you back.”

“What are his terms?” Theta sounded so small, his voice fragile between sniffles.

“Why don’t you jump to me and we can learn more about them together, alright?”

“Together.” He affirmed, an undercurrent of determination returning to his voice. “Sync?”

“Sync.” South closed her eyes as the data stream washed over her mind, comfort in the familiar rush of information as she and her AI merged memories. Hargrove’s employment of Sam and Isaac. The Insurrectionist origin of the ship. The men at the apartment threatening the Wu’s. The Meta’s helmet.

The bulkheads opened with ease, dozens of rifles aimed where she stood.

She met Hargrove’s scowl with her own icy stare, Theta’s soft violet glow hovering over her shoulder.

“I fixed your ship’s security problem.” South kept her voice even, but her words rang coldly in the near silent hallway. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

— *crawls out of the woods covered in ticks and blood (not my own)* here’s to getting this fic done (probably not but I can be optimistic) before Restoration drops and rewrites canon. 

[str4ng3rdanger]

season 13 (starts violently sobbing)

(top left to right: carolina, (epsilon) church, doyle, church again.)

(bottom left to right: (epsilon) church, malcolm hargrove above and felix and locus below.)

how obvious is it that i HATE hargrove (he is the reason church is dead and i hope hargrove dies 4 million times in return)

anyway yeah drew these while watching the season today

[flatstarcarcosa]

hhhhhhhhhhh something something “doctor” church being the one on the lower level w charon, who we go looking for at the facility when isaac dies, finding out ‘oh i’m sorry doctor church passed away last year. his replacement was mr. hargrove’

isaac kills hargrove when he realizes hargrove’s the one that’s been herding us into the zombies. we have to piece some of it together from the camera feeds after, the bits that backed up before everything went to ass, sam finds out about hargrove and loses it because hargrove is a name that kept coming up throughout the course of our ‘work’.

price dies later and sam kills him when he realizes price was using subterfuge to play us, charon, and the cdc against each other. ‘playing both sides so i always come out on top’ type shit except, rifp bitch.

it’s not until he kills price that he finally has all of the pieces and then we find out about the larger shit w the cdc.

[vanlegion]

Okay, I'll bite.

Here's my craziest theory that I'm considering making into a fic. I legit only have .05% stock to this so it's fun to laugh and think about but I know it's so far off the wall:

Carolina discovers a last final Fucked Up Project bullshit file folder burried in what's left of Dr. Leonard Church's personal belongings/everything involving project Freelancer and finds it odd that South Carolina was a reserved name never put into play and she became the only Agent Carolina.

Further more the file contains transcripts between LC and the head of a company called SIMTech, which is the company that makes all the advanced suits, tech and weapons Project Freelance recieved and tested, because ST also works/is funded through the UNSC and has/had connections to Charon Industries.

Said transcripts involve a few conversations about the effects of mind erasing twin children, as well as if a connection between siblings would still be felt/manifested if split and raised apart for x years until the proper time for reintroduction (but truth still withheld to test theories, and see how they fight/work together on a team).

Obviously appalled by this and assuming this to be about North & South, she keeps dwelling on it, until she starts getting headaches and breif flashes of things she doesn't remember.

As this all would take place post Chrous War (and post Timey Whimey Shennenigans maybe) the crew would all be either back on Iris or Chrous or even Earth maybe, attempting to have post war lives. Carolina would have been able to become even closer to everyone. Having learned to relax and open up a bit through Grifs teachings, shed have gotten comfortable with being a little more chummy with certain people, including Simmons, who'd offered to teach her some type of cooking/baking.

At some point, joking around with the two reds, Carolina would scoff at some really lame retort Simmons makes towards Grif, and before Grif can fire back, she'd roll her eyes and say "And that's why your ridiculous, Richie.."

Which just makes them all go quit, as Carolina starts freaking out and then the boys freak out because wtf why is Carolina Crying?! Is this the end of days!?

Now she's reaching out and tugging Simmons into a hug he just might die from due to lack of breathing and suddenly he's crying, not sure why, until he's starting to think the mocking phantom face in the mirror was never actually his to begin with.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

team only 4 days left until restoration time to throw out your craziest theories so you have a record in case they actually come true

[rvb-relationship-royale]

RVB Romantic Relationship Royale- Round 2, Part 3, Poll 3

[rubykgrant]

Question for my RVB Friends-

[epsiiwash]

sometimes i think about how much potential there was to explore the dynamics between tucker, epsilon, and wash in the show proper and im disappointed all over again

one of my biggest gripes has got to be how… quickly tucker breezes past certain things, i guess? i know rvb has less than stellar writing for the most part but like. we get no genuine reaction from tucker after he’s told about alpha’s death/torture in pfl. what’s worse is that he only finds out right when epsilon shows up, who immediately takes up church’s name and replaces him as if nothing even happened.

i’ve always felt like there should’ve been some resentment on tucker’s end? epsilon and alpha are not the same, the only memories he has of blood gulch are the ones that he heard from caboose. so not only did tucker never get to say goodbye to the church he knew but he also didn’t really get a chance to process his death before epsilon showed up. and then there’s just everything that happened afterward with epsilon and carolina lashing out at the reds and blues, epsilon leaving to find tex in the memory unit, and leaving again in season 11… we got that one scene between tucker and epsilon in season 12 but it just. it wasn’t enough imo.

and not only that but. tucker should’ve resented washington too, even more than he did in season 11. it just seems to me like all of the characters completely forgot that washington is the reason the church from blood gulch is gone. and again, zero reaction from tucker. like you aren’t pissed that this guy you just met is the one who got your best friend killed? the guy who is the reason you never got to say goodbye to him? the guy who also attacked your friends, and tried to take epsilon to hargrove to save his own skin?

dont even get me started on the lack of any interactions between wash and epsilon. maybe i read too much into it but ive been rewatching the show and i can’t help but feel like there could’ve been so much more

[leonardalphachurch]

everything you’re saying is completely correct but i do think there’s more nuance in the problems with the way women are written in the show vs just season before season 11 good after season 11 bad. which i’m not saying that’s what you’re saying i just also want an excuse to talk about the way female characters are treated.

there’s a definite difference between the way women are written in the different eras of the show. looking at bgc, there is a LOT of misogynistic humor levied at the women; the women in bgc face more overt misogyny than at any other point in the show. there are also only 3 women over the 5 seasons, compared to the 14 men (the disparity in numbers will continue through all eras of the show, though). however, they’re also WAY more fleshed out than the freelancer women are— and even the post 11 women at times. kai was reduced down to “party girl” in the original post but i don’t think that’s fair at all. for a character who was really only in a little over half a season of the show (pre 16) she has a really dynamic characterization. she’s not immune to the misogyny of blood gulch but she IS a fleshed out character. she’s colorblind; she speaks fluent spanish and knows morse code, implying a proficiency in languages; she has an actual backstory of how and why she joined the army, something that even most of the reds and blues don’t get; she’s bisexual; she’s terrible at picking up social cues; and, most importantly, she’s on the same level as the rest of the reds and blues in terms of power and narrative. kai and jensen are the ONLY female characters who are allowed to be as much of a fuckup as the rest of the cast. and we’ll get to jensen later. (ohio is also a fuckup but she’s barely a character and even then, within the triplets she’s often the most competent!). all of the reds and blues are messy assholes and kai is really the only female character that is actually equal to them (tho even then, her status as a little sister character does give her an element of being below the other characters— not to even mention the fact that she literally was not named besides her title of how she related to a male character). as for kai in 16-17. we already wrote about this in a much better way than we’re doing here so. go read those posts.

sheila is a really interesting character because like. she is literally a tool for men to ride around in and use. but she is also, imo, maybe the best written female character? besides maybe kimball? but sheila and kimball’s problems are very similar, actually. looking at sheila in a vacuum, she’s unbelievably dynamic and imo compelling. she’s a military tank who’s purpose is to kill, and she does take pleasure in violence! but she’s also. motherly? and a romantic. and vindictive and jealous. and caring and kind. she has multiple arcs, which is a trait she shares only with carolina (and kind of tex? tex’s arcs are. complicated.) she’s like. a really interesting character. there’s such a deep well there. but her problem is not a problem with her, it’s a problem with the rest of the show. her motherly behavior and general competence puts her on a higher pedestal than the reds and blues have. and like. there isn’t a problem with writing a woman who’s motherly. especially since she’s so fleshed out besides that. like, toriel isn’t a misogynistic character just bc she’s a mom. but the difference between toriel and sheila is that undertale has countless female characters with contrasting traits while rvb. does not. if rvb had tons of other female characters all at different levels of competence and personality types than sheila would be perfect. but it does not. and as it is two out of the three female characters in blood gulch are at least in part defined by how they take care of the male characters around them.

which i guess i should talk about kimball bc she has the same problem. kimballs actual writing is FANTASTIC. but again, chorus has numbers issue. out of the 10 new main characters introduced during chorus, only three of them are women. better numbers than bgc, but still not great. and if we consider ALL characters, not just new ones, then out of the 22 main characters, only four are women. and three of those four women are, again, hypercompetent and taking care of the men around them. there is more of a nuance to this dynamic in chorus bc i do think chorus has overall the best treatment of female characters but there’s still a lot of issues there.

especially with jensen. i do like jensen a lot, and i do really appreciate getting another cringefail woman to the cast. unfortunately her entire plot line is about the fact that she’s a woman. obviously, being a woman is an important part of. being a woman. but nearly everything about jensen’s arc is about how she’s the girl. simmons’ whole thing in 12 is his “nerdy” misogyny of seeing women as some untouchable separate species. which, funny enough, is kind of a microcosm of the entire issue with the shows treatment of women. make no mistake: the fear of women is rooted in misogyny. simmons behavior towards “volleyball” (refusing to give her a promotion because she intimidated him) is just as misogynistic as tucker’s (wanting to give her a promotion because she’s attractive to him). and this is never dealt with. (the misogyny is, in fact, doubled down in psas, but if i want to start complaining about the psas i’ll be here all week). even like, her trait of being bad at driving is a misogynistic stereotype? and like. i don’t think that was the intention there but you can see the problem when whole reason for existing in the first place was for a man (her boss) to be misogynistic at her. and then giving her a romance plot with palomo is like. we get it. she’s the girl. men attracted to women. can she please at least get an apology for how simmons treated her please.

you’ve explained a lot of the issues with the pfl ladies but again, the only characterization that women are allowed to have during the pfl era is “hypercompetent bitch”. obviously, all of the freelancers are hypercompetent, given their status as elite soldiers, but even within their ranks all the women are presented as being cutthroat, extremely capable, cold-hearted bitches, while the men are allowed to be soft, caring, lovable goofballs. york and north are allowed to wax poetic about the morality of pfl while CT yells at wash to “wake the fuck up”. wash and york are allowed to have major fuckups on their missions with little consequence shown to the audience while when north and south fuck up their mission, only south is blamed for it, and when she points out how unfair that is it’s treated as a tantrum and it’s never acknowledged that she’s right. there IS a double standard. wyoming, the one male character who was presented as being as cutthroat and cold blooded as the rest of the pfl women are, is just. written out. looking at numbers again, pfl has the best ratio but it’s still off. out of the 14 main characters, 5 are women. i didn’t even include wyoming or any of the innies in that count. out of the 5 women, ALL of them are hypercompetent and four of them are consistently characterized as “bitches”. and you could make an argument for 9er having that trait too. out of the nine male characters, NONE of the freelancer men have really. any negative traits. the only men who are presented in a negative light are the villains.

last but not least is shizno. i don’t have a lot to say here but. starting with kalirama— do you remember how excited people were when she first showed up. why was she just dropped. the fact that she was dropped was so egregious that the writer for 17 literally made chrovos a women to make up for the fact that he thought kalirama wasn’t utilized enough. i’m not joking that’s literally the reason. and about chrovos. look i think the god of all time not having a set gender is good and makes sense but. i kinda wish she was like. actually fluid in her gender and changed formed a few times. bc as it is she’s just kind of. a trans woman. and there’s nothing wrong with making your time god villain a trans woman (it’s actually awesome and everyone should do this) but when that’s. the only trans character you have. and it’s introduced with a joke about a sex change (in character comment for donut to make but. it still sucks) it’s like. it’s like. don’t do that.

and then dylan. she’s fine. i think she should’ve been way more unhinged. the thing is she is kind of unhinged in the first few episodes? like she shoots jax without remorse. she breaks into active military investigations. she negotiates a man’s suicide. but it feels like the second she gets with the reds and blues all the interesting parts of her character vanish and she just turns into. nice lady who takes care of the men around her. again. AGAIN.

it’s tiring. no more women who have the only brain cell. no more hypercompetent women who take care of men. from now on we only write cringefail lesbians.

(also i want to be clear here that when i call a woman’s characterization “bitch” i am not calling her a bitch, i am saying that that is how the writers are characterizing her. “bitch” is a character trait to misogynistic men, which is essentially “woman who has too much power and doesn’t respect men and you should hate her for it”. “bitch” isn’t just “woman who’s mean” it’s specifically about how the woman interacts with men (though sometimes that man is just the male author). as an example: despite being possibly the most cruel woman of the cast, grey isn’t characterized as a “bitch” because she’s never presented as being cruel for how she undermines a man’s character. contrast that with CT, who is literally in the right, but still gets the “bitch” characterization because of treatment of wash.)

In general up until like season 11 most of the women in the show are very one dimensional and they're often ignored until they can move along the guys plotlines. They’re also focused on a lot less. Aside from like. Carolina. The girls are all shelved over and over. Kai just got straight up removed for like 7 seasons. Comparing the girls to Redteam. Both are part of the plot but aren’t the main focus of the story, but red team gets fleshed out dynamics, diverse characters, multi faceted personalities, even Donut the guy whose personality is “gay jokes” gets hobbies and friends and interesting interactions. And the girls get. The angry one. Died to further the plot. Party girl. Hell Tex gets killed over and over to give motivation to the Churches. A lot of the depth and complexities of the girls has to be made up by the viewer. And while there are good women leaders in the show, there are like no girls who are allowed to have character development sans Carolina. They’re not allowed to make mistakes or grow from them. Their shows of emotions aren’t taken seriously by anyone around them. The girls are for the most part not allowed to be anything but perfect. When they make any mistakes they're immediately made out to be the bad guys. South is literally designed to be hated for traits that she shares with people like Sarge and Church. Ct is killed to give Wash trust issues and as a way to push her bf guys existence into the story and explain desert!ct. In general I absolutely love the girls and think they deserve better than what they got. For the person (tried to @ them but tumblr wont let me?) in the comments of one of my posts who asked me to explain why i think the way rvb women are written isn't good, thanks btw /gen. I love excuses to write out my thoughts <3

[nevada-got-screwed-over]

Taglist: @averagejoey2000

Original Inspiration / Masterpost

Chapter 17 / Chapter 19

Theta!South AU. I Guess.

Chapter: 18

Words: “fun fact: i am not dead” (2,083)

It was dark when South woke, a silent lament of her atrocious sleep schedule bit back as she tossed and turned for another hour. Fruitless in her endeavor for a few more moments of blissful sleep, she sat up and checked the clock. It was well past dinner time, and the ache in her gut confirmed that she was in desperate need of a real meal.

She kicked on her slippers, the warm and fuzzy rabbit-shaped ones Meg had gifted her the past winter and watched her reflection in the mirror for a moment. Moonlight was filtering through the blinds, diffusing a dim blue light throughout the room. After everything – the war, the Project, working for Recovery, hiding out, working with mercenaries – she looked…normal. A normal, tired woman with a terrible bedhead, wearing an oversized t-shirt and ratty pajama shorts.

Her hair hadn’t been this long…ever, if she thought about it. It was soft, the fading remnants of pale green hair dye tinging the split ends. She ought to dye it purple again – she missed that faint pink shade. Shaking herself from her nostalgia she stood and stretched.

“Evening T, put the coffee on if ya will.” She couldn’t stifle her yawn, sleepily opening her bedroom door. A heartbeat of silence was all she needed to hear to realize something was wrong. The clock on her nightstand glowed gently – there was still power, but the AI projector platforms in her room were dark and silent. She snatched a weapon from the underside of the nightstand and stepped out into the short hallway.

The kitchen glowed gold, the overhead light illuminating the linoleum and the old man at her kitchen table. He sat like a politician but wore a suit more at home in a UNSC control center. She had her weapon cocked and loaded, leveled at his head as she stalked forward, acutely aware of the person waiting just to her left in the den area. Their kick narrowly missed knocking her weapon from her hands, whiffing by her face.

She was not a morning person, as this idiot was about to find out. Without firing a single shot, she had him pinned by his throat against the wall, gun to his head as his bloody nose stained her carpet. Meg was going to have to show her that hydrogen peroxide trick again.

“Who are you? What do you want?” South glared daggers at the man still sitting at her table, his hands folded and eyes smiling despite his whimpering comrade struggling to breathe under her grip.

“I apologize for the intrusion, we – ”

“Cut the crap. Name and motive. Now.” She nudged the man’s head with the cold muzzle of her gun, his eyes frantically pleading with his superior.

“Malcom Hargrove.” She bristled, the name familiar but she couldn’t quite place it. “I’m not with the UNSC.” He gave a small shrug. “Anymore – retired, you see. But they wouldn’t doubt me for a second if I told them an MIA special ops soldier was living here.” He swilled the whiskey glass before him – he broke into her home and stole from her personal liquor cabinet – taking a slow sip without breaking eye contact.

“You haven’t told them. Why?” She tried to keep her gaze fixed on Hargrove, but she was searching her peripheral for any sign of Theta.

“You’re a well trained solider, Agent South Dakota. I may have found an appropriate…employment opportunity for you.” His eyes were bright with amusement as she seethed under his stare. “Release Mr. Jackson so we can discuss your options.”

South scoffed, tightening her grip and keeping her gun solidly pressed to his cheek. She wasn’t so naïve as to relinquish her leverage in the situation. She was the one with a gun on his man; they could be dead, and she could be on the run within moments. Hargrove didn’t seem to grasp this, shrugging at her display of stubbornness.

“Or…” The door to her apartment creaked open, two other well-dressed soldiers watching through dark sunglasses (ridiculous – it was well past sunset, and they were inside). South didn’t budge, grinding her teeth. “We could ask Mr. Wu to come in your stead. He’s a capable soldier, I hear.”

The man gasped and coughed when she released him, collapsing to the ground. South cracked her neck, closing her eyes and thinking for a moment.

She couldn’t fight all of these men. Not without casualties to the house or the Wu’s. Not without Theta. She opened her eyes with a sigh and sauntered to the counter, turning on the coffee maker. This was going to be a shitty morning.

“I’m glad we reached a bloodless resolution.”

“Talk to me before my coffee one more time and I’ll gut you like a fish.” The flat venom in her voice only elicited a dry laugh. The man she had dropped shot her a glare as he exited her apartment, black bruise around his throat and bloody nose hardly matching his threatening glare. The two other bodyguards entered her apartment, closing the door softly and standing sentinel.

South didn’t need to feign complacency – these men knew well what she was capable of – so she prepared her coffee with the same mechanical precision she used to clean her pistol. She missed Theta’s sleepy morning voice (AI didn’t sleep; he used that voice for his own amusement). The dark projection platform on the counter made her blood boil.

“Options. Besides killing you first chance I get.” She sat across from Hargrove, a glare daring the guards to walk behind her and corner her. They didn’t.

“That itself is an option. The first strategic chance you’ll have is months away at best. In the meantime, I’ll simply employ Wu’s assistance in your stead, maybe even ask him to help take down an old coworker who’s gone rogue.” His smile didn’t show any teeth. “Not an option I would advise.”

South stirred sugar into her coffee, not breaking eye contact and keeping her expression blank. If she couldn’t escape his monologuing, then she would give him no satisfaction in a reaction.

“There are two options I can personally see to, and I’m certain you will prefer one to the other. The first is one you’re probably quite aware of: I can report you to the UNSC and they will apprehend you. I personally oversaw Agent Washington’s admittance to the UNSC Maximum Security Prison, and I would do the same for you.

Although the UNSC might want to publicize  your arrest in this case. It will certainly cause a buzz in every UNSC installation in the galaxy, keep the other black ops programs on their toes. I can see it now – ‘MIA defector from a black ops program found working at local smithing factory’ – front page news, possibly even national.” His predatory eyes tracked her face and South was dimly aware of the anger creeping into her features. “What would your mother think?”

She breathed slowly, taking a measured sip from her mug of coffee even though it burned her throat. He was tipping his hand, and damn if he didn’t have good cards. Washington was alive – or at the very least, he survived whatever his plans with the Meta were. Hargrove knew her personal life – past and present – far too intimately for comfort.

He was trying to provoke her. It was certainly working.

“The second option – the mutually beneficial option – is quite simple.” His tone indicated it would not, in fact, be simple. “I am involved in a…recovery business.” The gears in her mind began to turn, pieces clicking into place. “You’re particularly familiar with this work, according to my sources – ”

“You.” The accusatory growl slipped from her lips before she could reel in her rage. “You hired Isaac and Sam.” Hargrove was unfazed by her angry outburst, as if he had expected it.

“Ah, yes, Felix and Locus are…quite effective. And I must say their work would be bettered balanced with a third party such as yourself to…keep them focused.” Hargrove laughed from his chest, a smile exposing the chipped edges of too-white teeth. “It would certainly save me some money and headaches.”

The anger bubbling in her chest threatened to explode, her hand blindly groping for the pistol hidden under the table out of pure instinct. The holster was empty, of course. He had probably swept the whole of her apartment save for her bedroom for weapons while she was asleep. Hargrove acknowledged her intense stare and clenched jaw with aloof annoyance.

“I was well aware of your presence and activities before I hired them. They’re good at what they do because they keep their mouths shut – if they had let anything about you slip, they wouldn’t be worth their paychecks.”

“I told them – ”

“Yes, yes – no recovery work. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.” Even though this meeting proved he certainly intended to do so. “I’m sure you’re not in want of more misadventures in that kind of business. This opportunity wouldn’t have you in the field at any capacity, ideally.” South’s suspicion grew, but her irrational and instinctive terror ebbed. She would rather be court martialed than work in recovery again. Hargrove took a swig from his glass of whiskey, the ice melted enough to keep it full.

“You see I…acquired some technology after your project was shut down. I was in correspondence with the Director prior to the end of the war, when I worked with the UNSC. Something of an oversight council instated after the…Charon incident we called it. As a result, after his death and the official closure of the project, I have quite a lot of experimental technology with very, very scant records.” Hargrove sighed, some semblance of disappointment in his tone. “I understand his discretion, but I’ll admit, I’m at a loss with what few corrupt files we were able to salvage.”

“Sounds like a job to contract out to the UNSC.” It was a small consolation that the Director was dead. That was one devil she knew that she would trade for one she didn’t in a heartbeat. Still, she didn’t like where this conversation was going.

“Normally, I would agree, however, I’m in a unique position to profit from understanding this technology. I would rather not hand my potential customers a live bomb and tell them to figure it out.” His tight lipped smile grew as South’s suspicious glare softened. Her time with the mercenaries made her intimately familiar with greed and the people who made it their poison of choice.  

“So, you need me to be your bomb dog.” It wasn’t a question, but South still hoped he would contradict her with a different proposition. Hargrove’s shrug did not inspire confidence in that outcome.

“More or less – you likely have had up close and personal experience with much of the technology we’ve recovered. Between you and some greenhorn UNSC petty officer, I wouldn’t bet on him keeping his limbs intact.”

She cracked her knuckles, fidgeting as her coffee grew cold on the table. Theta would know what to do. Theta.

“Where is he?”

“Pardon?”

“You know what I’m talking about. What did you do with him?”

“Ah, that?” The old man seemed genuinely surprised by her inquiry. “The AI we recovered here? It’s in a storage unit, somewhere safe.” There was a glimmer in his eyes, sharp and hungry. “I can tell that you care for it. Given that the project’s property falls under my jurisdiction, I may be inclined to keep an asset such as that from gathering dust on a UNSC warehouse shelf.”

South had just handed him leverage on a silver platter, but she wasn’t quite sure that she cared. As long as he was alright. As long as they stayed together. As long as they could take care of each other.

“I want him back.” She swallowed the last of her cold coffee, bitter on her tongue. “We’re a team; do that and I’ll walk over whatever mines you find.” Now Hargrove truly smiled, white teeth against chapped lips.

“I’m glad we reached an understanding.” He held out a hand across the table. “And an agreement.” South shook his hand firmly but didn’t release him as he tried to pull away.

“And don’t fuck with the Wus.” She tossed his hand away, her own teeth bared as he bellowed a laugh, eyes wrinkled by his smile.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, South.”

--- Hopefully we’ll be back on a more regular schedule this summer starting in June...

[canonrpfinder]

Hello! I have 6-7 years of roleplay experience, literate, EST, looking for 18+ roleplay partners! I do NOT do NSFW. I don’t like romance plots. I type 3-4 paragraphs or more typically. I only roleplay on discord as well!

Most of my fandoms below and favorite characters to play are listed in parentheses!

Stranger Things(Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Argyle)

Wednesday(Ajax, Tyler, Yoko, Xavier, Kent, Rowan, Enid, Wednesday)

Scream(Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Charlie Walker, Ethan Landry)

Harry Potter(Draco Malfoy, Sirius Black. Fan cast characters such as the Slytherin boys - Theodore Nott, Blaize Zabini, Mattheo Riddle, etc.)

The Black Phone(Vance Hopper)

The Ranger’s Apprentice(Gilan, Will Treaty, Evanlyn aka Cassandra)

Marvel(Loki, Thor, Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Hela, most other male MCs)

Spiderverse(Hobie Brown, Gwen, Pav, Miguel O’hara)

RvB(Tucker, Church, Griff)

Twilight(Jacob Black, Seth Clearwater, Carlisle Cullen, Book Bella Swan not movie Bella Swan)

The Originals(Niklaus Mikealson)

Descendants(Harry Hook, Jay, Carlos, Chad Charming, Doug, Evie, Gil)

✒️