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jcmarchi · 8 months ago

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Super Monkey Ball Banana Rumble Preview - Bringing Monkey Ball Back In 2024 - Game Informer

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Super Monkey Ball Banana Rumble Preview - Bringing Monkey Ball Back In 2024 - Game Informer

Last month, I had a chance to play Super Monkey Ball Banana Rumble, the first all-new entry in the Super Monkey Ball (SMB) franchise in more than a decade. While I went into the demo skeptical that the series, which experienced its best years in the early-to-mid 2000s, could feel like a modern experience in 2024, I emerged from the demo impressed by the gameplay improvements, single-player level design, and the game’s approach to multiplayer (you can read my full preview here).

Shortly after the preview, I had a chance to dig deeper into Super Monkey Ball Banana Rumble with several of the developers behind Ryu Ga Gotoku’s franchise that isn’t about the seedy underbelly of the Japanese organized crime to learn how the team worked to modernize the franchise while still remaining true to its roots.

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Recently, we’ve received some remakes and remasters, but no new entry for many years. Why did the franchise take such a long break?

Nobuhiro Suzuki, Producer: We believe this is the result of a combination of factors. Whether it was due to development resources being refocused towards other large titles, the creators leaving the company, sales numbers, and more, the SMB development line disappeared and there was a period of time when production came to a halt. However, after releasing two remakes, Super Monkey Ball Banana Blitz HD in 2019 and Super Monkey Ball Banana Mania in 2021, and after receiving positive feedback from our fans, we decided to release a completely new title, Super Monkey Ball Banana Rumble. We hope fans are excited to play this first brand new entry in over a decade!

With that unique position in mind, what were the primary goals of Super Monkey Ball Banana Rumble?

NS: Following the release of those two remakes, Banana Blitz HD and Banana Mania, our goal is to firmly establish the revival of the SMB franchise with this completely new title. To that end, we set out to make a new entry that firmly inherits or captures the best qualities of past SMB titles while also feeling like an all-new game with 16-player online battles, refined game and character designs, and the addition of new characters and storylines.

With such a big gap between the last all-new, non-remake/remaster release, were there any updates to the design and gameplay best practices that needed to be applied to this latest entry to ensure it feels modern in 2024?

Daisuke Takahata, Director: Based on the data we pulled, such as the number of people who cleared each world of Banana Mania and comments from various playtests, we updated the game with a level of challenge that new players (as well as longtime fans) will enjoy. Compared to the past titles, the difficulty level of the early worlds is now milder (in previous games, things were too difficult right from the beginning). We also made it so that the first time you boot the game, you will be taken to a tutorial that will help you learn how to play the game and use the controls. The same goes for the camera, where we made some small adjustments to the default settings to help make things feel smoother. Players will also be able to fine-tune these settings in the Options menu, which we think longtime fans will appreciate.

The physics in Super Monkey Ball Banana Rumble feel good. How did the team go about overhauling the physics, and how did you know you got them just right?

Jack Ko, Programmer: Banana Rumble’s physics actually builds upon those in Banana Mania, which in turn was based heavily on the original GameCube version’s physics. We made special adjustments to the movement in the previous game to make it viable as a remake, but thanks in part to comments from fans, we were made aware of a few elements that might contribute to some of that unintuitive behavior caused by the physics in Banana Mania. With Banana Rumble being a new entry to the series and having its own new stages, it means that this time around, we were able to focus on making the movement feel simpler and more intuitive.

Additionally, the physics system is extensively parameterized, meaning that designers can make adjustments to different parts of it on the fly. With internal testing happening at least once a week during development, tweaks were made incrementally and whenever needed. We knew we had it right when anyone could just pick it up and be able to immediately roll out like a pro.

Why was the Spin Dash such an important inclusion in this entry? What do you think it most adds to the experience?

NS: In creating this all-new game, we wanted to add the right technique that would give users a wider range of play and challenge. Also, in order to implement the 16-player battles, we needed something that would really emphasize the user’s technique so they can overcome the competition. As a result, the Spin Dash was implemented. While the Spin Dash is simple to perform, we believe it adds a lot to the game; for beginners, it’s an exhilarating element that allows them to sprint and bounce off obstacles, and for advanced players, it can serve as a way to find shortcuts and quickly reach the goal. We are very pleased how players have been responding to it.

This question may be better asked to the localization team, but with the Super Monkey Ball franchise so reliant on puns and wordplay related to bananas, did the team ever consider calling it “Peel Out” instead of “Spin Dash?”

NS: To be honest, we didn’t think about it at all. [Laughs] We wanted to make it easier for users to understand just by looking at the name, so we made it straight out “Spin Dash.”

When creating a level in Adventure mode, what factors must be considered to create an effective stage?

Yukio Oda, Designer: As for “what elements,” our basic idea is to combine “various elements” in a complex and effective manner. For example, if we break down a stage into smaller pieces, you can see that the “path” includes various elements such as “thickness,” “curve,” “slope,” “moving path,” and so on. Depending on how these parts are combined, the stage can be easy or difficult, interesting or boring. The Monkey Ball team has a lot of expertise in these combinations, all accumulated over many years with the series, and we always aim to create an interesting stage based on that know-how. But the first step in creating a single stage starts with the inspiration of the stage designer.

How does the team balance fun with challenge when designing stages?

YO: The stages created by our stage designers are regularly playtested by dozens of people inside and outside the team. Not only do we pick up a variety of opinions, but we also analyze data such as the percentage of clear rates and times, and we are constantly making adjustments to make the stages even better. We are also strongly aware that the Monkey Ball series has been characterized by its contrast between having very easy stages and very challenging stages. Sometimes, even if a playtester finds that a stage is deemed “too difficult,” there are cases where we end up leaving it the way it is. However, we are always pleasantly surprised when, after launch, we see users uploading videos showing how they were able to complete extremely difficult stages with ease.

The stages I played were very enjoyable and sometimes over-the-top, but they were just in the first two worlds. How wild should players expect the challenges in Adventure mode to become?

DT: We are glad you enjoyed the early stages of the game! As we announced, there are 200 all-new stages to be found in Banana Rumble’s Adventure Mode, all spread across different worlds. The final world, in particular, has a variety of exciting gimmicks waiting for players, which will prove challenging even for fans who started with the previous titles. Stay tuned for a “very wild” challenge!

Can you talk to me about the process of designing the Battle modes? They bring such enjoyable twists on the Super Monkey Ball formula, and I’ve always found the minigames/side modes to be as enjoyable as the main Adventure mode.

YO: Thank you very much! When it comes to the game design of Battle Mode, we paid close attention to how “control” and “sense of speed” were expressed during gameplay, as they are key characteristics of this series. We also took care to ensure that the skills players learned and improved upon by playing through Adventure Mode can be utilized in Battle Mode as well. One of the main features of this game is its emphasis on “ease of understanding” – basically, we made sure not to make the rules overly complicated when adding any twists and turns, so players are able to enjoy themselves.

Where would you like to see the Super Monkey Ball franchise evolve from here? Do you think there is a place for multiple releases in a shorter time window than we’ve seen in recent eras?

NS: First of all, as a basic premise, we will continue to carry on the fun and originality the SMB series is known for, and make sure SMB fans can fully enjoy their time with it. On top of that, we would like to evolve the series to a level that offers something that incorporates a variety of exciting new ways to play that is altogether unique to Sega. With the support of our players, we believe we will be able to continue to release new games on a regular basis. We would really appreciate everyone’s support for Super Monkey Ball Banana Rumble and the Super Monkey Ball series!

Super Monkey Ball Banana Rumble arrives on Switch on June 25. For more on the upcoming series revival, head here to read our full, hands-on impressions.

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dailyrandomwriter · 2 years ago

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Day 294

The interesting thing that happens when you play tabletop role play games is that it allows you to explore ideas that you might not think about when watching a movie or reading a book. Sometimes, you discover things about yourself, about where your limits are since it gives you a safe space to explore. Other times, it makes you think seriously about the real world by contextualizing it with fantasy analogs. One great example is the analog between fantasy wizard school and real world high school.

Let me explain…

In the world of Chimera, the arcane prep schools teach students between ages of 14-18, preparing them for arcane universities full of research and study into the magical arts. One of the traditions of these schools is that second year students need to choose a school of magic to specialize in, so that they can start attending magic specific classes for the thing they want to specialize in.

For those who are not in the know, Chimera is a Dungeons and Dragons campaign, and making a student choose a school of magic was a narrative way to allow players to take a second level in Wizard and choose a school of magic. It was originally not meant to be anything more than a plot device.

However, @wereah pointed out to me that 15 years of age was quite young to expect a young person to know what they wanted to do with their life. This was a fair thing to say, after all. In the world of Dungeons and Dragons, choosing your school of magic will determine what special skills your wizard will have, what they can learn quickly and influence them as a person. Choosing your school of magic is like making someone choose what career they are going to be for the rest of their lives.

Wait a minute…

In both Canada and the US, 9th graders are between the ages of 14-15. While I do not know what the US high school system with the intention of entering college/university is like, I do know what it is like for Canadians. In Canada, your acceptance to a college/university is heavily dependent on your final overall GPA of the top six university level high school courses (or advanced course if you graduated before 2005). On top of this, depending on your chosen field, the college/university may require certain courses to be included in that top six.

For example, because I was trying to be a good child and become a computer programmer, I needed to have physics, calculus and algebra as part of my top six.

When I finally took the plunge to go into literature instead, I needed ‘English’ and two humanities to get into my chosen university. Because I didn’t decide to commit to literature until my fifth year of high school (I was the last of a Grade 13 batch), I had to stay an extra year to take my two humanities courses to get into the university of my choice.

And the important takeaway from this is, in order to get into a university of your choice and into a field you like, you need to by second year high school know what you want to be in order to take the courses needed to get into the university and field you want.

Assuming you even knew what field you wanted to go into.

It was a moment of weird clarity to turn to @wereah and tell her, yea that is way too young to expect anyone to know what they want to do with their life. But… it was not unrealistic that this would be forced on those arcane students, because we were 15 years old when we had to make the choice for our future. It doesn’t make it right, and it’s probably a sign that our educational system is in desperate need of quality of life upgrades.

#Dungeons and Dragons and real life #Chimera Academy #when games make you think #education thoughts

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whatsonmedia · 2 years ago

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24-hour strike over radio cutbacks disrupts BBC local services

The BBC's regional TV bulletins, local radio programming, and internet content are all being affected by a 24-hour strike on Wednesday and Thursday in England. Since some local radio programmers were going to be merged, National Union of Journalists (NUJ) members who work for BBC Local have been protesting since 11:00 GMT. The NUJ said the proposals would "undermine already hollowed out local radio programming across England". The BBC said it had "tried to minimize disruption as much as practicable". The BBC's 39 local stations' plans to share more programmers would "see no general decrease in staffing levels or local funding" and would "deliver even greater value to communities," a BBC spokesperson said. The majority of regional TV news programmers for the hours of 13.30, 18.30, and 22:30 are not scheduled to air in England due to the strike. On Wednesday, a few regional radio stations aired a syndicated show shortly after 11:00. While many used stand-in hosts, some people continued to host their own programmes. Over 1,000 employees are anticipated to participate, according to the NUJ. They will begin a continuous work to rule on Thursday at 11:00 a.m., following closely to the terms of their contract, such as not accepting additional responsibilities or working overtime. 'Last resort' Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland's programming are unaffected. Staff considered the strike "a last option," according to the union. For our members, it's not just a matter of employment and working conditions, according to NUJ general secretary Michelle Stanistreet: "They strongly believe in the value that quality local content brings to their audiences, journalism that is trusted and relied upon in the communities they serve. The BBC's reckless decision to use local radio budgets as a source of funding for its Digital First strategy runs the risk of undermining a crucial aspect of our public service broadcasting.” The walkout on Wednesday falls on the chancellor's budget day. The coronation, the Eurovision Song Contest, and additional strikes are all being discussed for the municipal elections in May. The 39 English stations, some of which would share schedules between 14:00 and 18:00 with nearby stations while others would stay local, would each continue to air their own morning shows on weekdays under the BBC's plans. After 18:00, there would be 10 shared programmers and one all-England programme after 22:00. Also impacted will be production over the weekend. ‘Modernizing services’ The 39 BBC Introducing shows, which promote emerging musicians, will also be reduced to 20; however, additional timeslots will be added to guarantee that a variety of music can still be played. Local newscasts and live sports coverage will continue, according to the BBC. On Wednesday, a BBC representative stated: "We are clearly disappointed that the strike has continued. There will be no general decrease in staffing levels or local funding as part of our plan to modernize local services across England. Which will include adding more news journalists and boosting the local online service. Our objective is to provide local services on TV, radio, and the internet that are even more valuable to communities. We will keep communicating with the union and take every precaution to limit the effect on the employees. In addition, the BBC plans to establish 11 investigative reporting teams across the nation, introduce specialized online services for Bradford, Wolverhampton, Sunderland. And Peterborough, and establish a new fund to commission local podcasts and original programming. Separately, there have been recent demonstrations against cuts to Northern Ireland's BBC Radio Foyle. Read the full article

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tommyoboe · 1 year ago

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YEAR ONE.

Welcome to a little tour of my life since completing my Master's degree last year.

I just had another read of my blog post from then, and I am transported to that time of uncertainty, that feeling of being marooned on an island, with the sun setting around me and the horizon so vast and encompassing that this is all I can see for miles.

This could be the default for summers to come, as I have just completed my last gig for a little while. However, my mindset has changed, and I know that there is lots of fun to be had in the coming months.

Before I delve into that, I am pulling the lever in my mind and taking a peek back at the last twelve months of activity and what that has done for my insane little mind.

As soon as my Master's was complete, my focus was entirely on finding work, because, let's face it, I'm a musician, and there was no immediate segway into a job in an orchestra or a chamber group or whatever. So I applied for everything I could and got a job in a zero waste store in Birmingham, where I was preparing to move back to within a couple of months.

Overall, it was absolutely fine, paid s*** but was comfortable otherwise. It also allowed me flexibility when come September, I earned my first professional gig since leaving Manchester with the BBC Philharmonic and jumped out of my seat like a flying squirrel to the next oak.

By this point I had moved into my new property in the suburb of Harborne with Cameron and we were enjoying living back together for the first time in a couple of years. To be living in a nice place and area and be getting work so quickly after departing Manchester was a delight, even if it meant pissing off my minimum wage paying employers.

That has perhaps been one of the most significant challenge this year, balancing everyday work with freelance opportunities, that to me are simply gold dust.

Upon returning from a successful recording of Shostakovich 12, I was launched into working in a speciality coffee shop for the first time, which was quite different from the relative ease of a zero waste store. My employers were great though, hugely decent people with such potential for their ideas to flourish. However, not being a trained barista meant I was new to many concepts, although those who know me best realise that I am still quite the coffee addict, and refuse to entertain a chain and its over sweetened burnt products. And any time I have given into an overpriced pumpkin spiced or caramel waffle latte from Starbucks has been filled with a rush of sweetness, a burnt mouth and instant regret.

I also regret the times that followed in that first term of having to decline work, leading to fits of deliriousness in some cases where my breathing heightened to an absolute panic and all control of my body disappeared.

No matter though, because what followed were more gigs! Quite wonderful. So there I was in October, thanks to the RNCM and BBC Philharmonic, playing a programme of Ruth Gipps in the foyer of the Bridgewater Hall.

The coffee shop meanwhile left me stressed on a regular basis, as it required me to be fast paced and just better than I was. There was no space to truly learn and take things in at a leisurely pace, as there should be more of in this life. And it was debatable as to if I was really keeping my s*** together.

I was therefore grateful to go off to Huddersfield with Cameron to see his folks and for myself to enjoy my first gig with Manchester Camerata outside the RNCM. And then the following week back to Media City for round 2 with the BBC. Having had a mixed October, I wasn't in the best place this second time round, and therefore not the person and player I have learnt to become since. I remember taking out my frustration to my very patient mum on the first afternoon and just feeling myself fade away as a human. I generally kept myself together, but I would then have these horrible outbursts where I fired myself at those closest to me in an aggressive and unwelcome way.

Soon I was back in Birmingham, and then Coventry for my first teaching of some primary school keyboard players. My pupils have accumulated since opening that classroom door in November, and although it has been rewarding in places, it has also been a mountain to climb in terms of maintaining energy, a positive mindset and a willingness to teach kids that are very often little f***ers.

More playing followed with a daunting trip to Aldeburgh for the Britten Pears Young Artists programme, which my wonderful oboe teacher from Birmingham put me forward for. It was a joy to once again play with such a high calibre of musicians, but this also made for moments of immense insecurity to the point that I couldn't bring myself to socialise and on the odd occasion I would retract to my room and write about my general state of sorrow before eventually feeling my vision fade and fall into a moderate slumber.

However, it was a beneficial week but one I would only come to appreciate seven months later.

December was hard. Work things were far from steady and the world was seemingly going to s***. I decided last minute not to attend my Master's graduation, and to be honest, it was somewhat heartbreaking. It wasn't even missing the graduation itself: it was more my fear of going by myself when my parents weren't able to make it anymore due to ongoing train strikes and Cameron working. I couldn't bring myself to make that journey and have that day potentially alone. My heart breaks for my past self.

Past self was relieved to be heading to Barcelona shortly afterwards for four days of unwinding with Cameron. I was shattered after constantly trying to keep up with an ever changing situation in terms of work and no emotional stability, but this was a brief time I really enjoyed, and came to somewhat find my sense of spirit again.

The year came to end with notes of Baileys, arguments and fried chicken and it was on to what was going to hopefully be a more stable 2023!

Ha.

The year began with a family bereavement and continued challenges with work. With teaching this was being gravely insulted in my lessons, told to 'die' and that I should 'go to prison' by my students. I was so in shock that I just let it all happen like some satanic ritual in front of me, but if that was to happen to me now I would react in a highly different way. There would be no getting away with that now. They would be out.

The rest of my January and February, two of the worst months in all of my twenty six years on the planet, was spent searching for new work, as this was rapidly dwindling at both the zero waste and coffee shop. No more performances were coming my way and funds were depleting.

I took on a couple of freelance teaching days in Dudley and interviewed for new work, but couldn't bring myself to the finality of a full time role at another coffee shop. I hung on and made contact with a local florist about an opening at their store, which to my delight was immediately successful and the job was mine.

I thought, this is it. This is the light at the end of the wintry bog I've just experienced. I could do this and keep the coffee shop job as I quit the zero waste job, which by this point was giving me four hours a week.

Things were figured out. Until I lost my coffee shop job due to the tsunami hitting small businesses and their funds to keep members of staff with decent pay. It wasn't exactly a surprise, but the abrupt nature of this dismissal was unfair.

But then, if the day hadn't been crazy enough, an email came through from Manchester Camerata, and I had to double take, regarding a tour to Saudi Arabia in March.

*screams*

This was all gradually being figured out, and in the meantime I began my new part time job. I knew this wouldn't be enough to see me through financially difficult times that we were going through with bills at over £300 a month.

Confirmation came through in the days leading up to Saudi Arabia, but the day job was falling mercy to lack of funds and I was to be making an early exit.

Uncertainty was high until Cameron and I took a heavily frustrated walk to accidentally discover a lovely furniture store in the heart of Edgbaston that immediately caught my attention. I emailed to ask of any vacancies and to my pleasant surprise I had timed this perfectly, and three full days were on offer.

For me, the combination of this and the tour with Manchester Camerata were the start of my revival.

And then Saudi Arabia happened! There I was, on a plane with eighty musicians to the Middle East to play as part of the expansion of a new city on the Red Sea. It was surreal, seeing these sights that I couldn't have otherwise comprehended; getting lost on a coach in the pitch black dead of night; going dune bashing in the middle of the desert (almost dying as a result when the driver started the car as I was getting in), and playing cor anglais to a Manchester medley in this huge arena in this bizarre location.

But it happened. It really did. And it gave me the boost I needed (despite some moral concerns about going to the Middle East) to somewhat escape my slump and restart life.

Life had to restart straightaway with a gig in Sunderland, then my new job at the furniture store, followed by gaining another teaching role for September with Services For Education.

All was going well; I felt like I had entered this new golden age. It didn't last that long as we suddenly had a neighbour complain about our practising/teaching in our flat. Basically a disaster, but one that was sorted after a couple of weeks of agonising over alternative venues, with me having the courage to go talk (have it out to a certain extent) to the neighbour. This was after our estate agent demanded we stop playing immediately (but then again, their first thought when we had a crack in our toilet was 'have you dropped something in it?'). The practice lives on!

Highlights in April included a third gig with Manchester Camerata, this time in Withernsea of all places; catching up with folks back home and attending my old oboe teacher's wedding in Harrogate! This made for a lovely weekend of catchups with Hull Music Service teachers and colleagues and a jaunt around the scenic town.

May was perhaps the first normal month I have had but this was counteracted by a somewhat hectic and exciting June of music making. A group of us visited London on the first day to see the absolutely astounding A Little Life, which I endlessly recommend. I'm still reading the monster of a book, but it is so heartbreakingly beautiful in how it is written and it was performed in a way that truly brought this to life.

Other high points included a lovely pair of gigs with New Sinfonia in Wales; a second solo concert courtesy of the RNCM and BBC Philharmonic at the Bridgewater Hall; a return to Aldeburgh for the culmination of the Britten Pears Young Artists programme, and just yesterday I was back in Suffolk briefly to play as part of a memorial event for the late architect, Michael Hopkins. The venue was outstanding, situated so pristinely by the water and filled with fantastic pieces.

Aldeburgh the second time round was an absolute joy and was a much healthier experience for me. The playing was tremendously difficult in places, but I felt in a calm frame of mind when tackling everything, knowing at least I could properly unwind at the end of this and actually appreciate the company of others in a serene coastal town. And I was simply myself, or at least the self I want to be.

That makes me happier beyond belief.

After all that, my primary reflection is that actually, this year has been a success. It has been challenging to the point of hardly recognising myself in places, but I have become a better person. So as I was last year when my Manchester experience came to a close, I am grateful. But grateful perhaps isn't even the word: I'm simply happy. I'm happy that I'm making the choices that I am; living a lifestyle that I believe is healthy, and embracing the everyday with all its quirks.

And ultimately, it's refreshing to know that my main concern today was having lardons for the carbonara recipe.

That's me for the summer; now to crank the volume up on Taskmaster to mask the sound of a drill next door!

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chazukekani · 4 years ago

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SPOILER ALERT

Here is the quick summary of the first 60 pages of Stormbringer that just revealed today.

Special thanks to Nika, Amir, and my discord server members for proof-reading!

— That is, the 169th possibility

— ‘You are late, my brother.’

Content

Prologue

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Code 02: Dead people do not possess any form of emotion

Code 03: I want to observe Chuuya’s suffer as a human

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Epilogue

Afterthought

Harukawa Sango ‘Stormbringer’ Character Setting Gallery

Pre-prologue

Fate whispers to warriors,

‘You cannot go against the storm.’

Warriors whisper back

‘I am the storm.’

— Cao Zhi ‘Luo Shen Fu’

Prologue

It began in a forest at midnight. It was supposed to be a peaceful night, but suddenly a beam appeared in the forest. It’s a huge fire. The forest was on fire. People who lived in the village nearby ran to the forest to see what happened. It was a wrecked airplane that just fell from the sky. People used hammers to dig the airplane to see whether there are any survivors.

Suddenly, a man walked out from the airplane. He seemed fine, but the crowd was shocked.

‘Apologies for my courtesy. In accordance with civil society, I should introduce myself,’ said the man. He pulled out a badge on his chest. The badge was black and words on it were engraved with silver. One of the teenagers from the village read off the words on it

‘I am a detective from Europole (Europe Detective and Police Organisation), which I am an office equipment. Category number 98F78195, made by ability technician Dr. Wollstonecraft. The first ever humanoid computer that serves for worldwide police facilities. Code name is Adam, Adam Frankenstein. It is my pleasure to meet you. I should carry out my mission now, see you.’

Before Adam left, he asked ‘Do you know a person called Nakahara Chuuya?’

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Chuuya couldn't see his dream. Everytime he woke up, he felt like he was in a swamp of mud. Today, Chuuya woke up in his apartment. Just like other’s morning routine, Chuuya took a shower, cleaned himself and left his home.

Chuuya was 16 years old. Since a year he had joined the mafia, Chuuya excelled in his job with the most outstanding performance, and was well recognised in the organisation.

However with all the money and status he got, Chuuya was not satisfied. The thing that he wanted the most was to know his past. Chuuya knew nothing about it. The earliest memory he had was being kidnapped to a military facility 8 years ago.

There was already a branded black car waiting for Chuuya outside his apartment with a group of men in suits and sunglasses. ‘Please go to the regular store,’ said Chuuya.

Chuuya was in charge of supervising the jewel/gemstone transaction within the Mafia and black market, which had been an important source of income for the mafia.

He arrived at the store. Before entering it, a gun was pointed on Chuuya’s head, while there was another gun pointed onto his chest. Bang! What a big sound. Yet there was no blood, but a bunch of colourful ribbons came off.

‘Congratulations to your 1st year since joining the mafia!’, said those men.

Today was the first anniversary for Chuuya joining the mafia, and his friends held a party for him. People who joined the party all belonged to the ‘young club’ of the mafia, which were all 25 years old or younger.

The party-planner was called ‘Piano Man’. He was called Piano Man not because of his black and white outfit, but his way of killing. He liked using the strings of piano keyboards and strangled people to death. Piano Man was very tall, his fingers were long and thin, and always put a smile on his face. He was by far the man who was closest to the position of the Port Mafia executive.

The second man who came to congratulate Chuuya was called Albatross, a man with golden hair. He was a teen that loved smiling and was very talkative. Albatross was in charge of the transportation aspect of the mafia, and was complimented as very efficient and speedy in completing the missions, and was currently living in the same neighbourhood as Chuuya in a high-ended area. He previously belonged to an organisation called ‘Wheelman’.

Albatross proposed a toasting, but Chuuya was not in a good mood. “Did you have a nightmare?” Albatross joked, but Chuuya turned furious after hearing the word ‘nightmare’. Everyone was horrified. ‘No I wasn’t!’ Chuuya shouted. When Chuuya was about to leave the shop, yet another man came in. He was holding a champagne glass, and on his other hand, he was holding a medical drip stand that had a drip injected into his arm. His name was Doc.

Different from other doctors in the gangster industry, Doc graduated in a Northern American university and was awarded with a Doctorate formally. Doctors were highly demanded within the mafia because members could not simply walk into regular hospitals with injuries that were caused by gunshots. Doctors in the PM were treated nicely and respected, thanks to the boss, Mori-san, who was also a former doctor. The reason why Doc became a doctor was because he wanted to get closer to God. ‘The more lives you save, the closer you get to God’ is the motto of Doc. The Bible once wrote that God saved two million lives, so Doc’s goal was to save a similar number of people, which was why he joined the Mafia.

Chuuya still wanted to leave.

“The first year was the toughest, so we need to celebrate that you got through it,’ a gentle voice said. It was a man who had an extraordinarily beautiful appearance. The first year of joining the Mafia was the so-called ‘Deadman Curve’, so a celebration is needed,” said Lippmann, the guy with a pretty face. The work of Lippmann was probably the most unique one out of all of them. He was in charge of the public relations of the Mafia, such as negotiating deals with enterprises, or having meetings with the government. It is more difficult to kill him than killing the Boss of the Mafia because Lippmann was also a famous actor, thus every single action he made would be reported by the media. Hence it was really difficult to get him.

Another man came in, and his name was Ice Man. Unlike Chuuya’s other friends, he was quiet, and wore a simple outfit. Ice Man did not show much emotion, and was low profile. His job was simple, to kill. He did not use an ability, guns or knives to kill. Instead, he used objects that were nearby to kill. Anything, regardless if it’s a pen, wine bottle or the wire of light bulbs could become a murdering tool, hence Ice Man could kill anywhere.

The gathering continued. Chuuya was gradually having a better mood, until Ice Man asked Chuuya ‘where were you born?’ Chuuya immediately grabbed Ice Man’s shirt, and there was such a tension among the guys. Piano Man then revealed that he knew why Chuuya was mad, because Mori told him about Chuuya’s past that he was just an artificial ability experiment that was created by the military. Hence Mori asked Piano Man to invite Chuuya into the younger’s club, in order to have a surveillance on Chuuya. Piano Man pointed out the reason why Chuuya was mad today because he was actually not able to dream. Suddenly, the tension was back. Everyone had their weapons already, but Piano Man took out a present for the 1st anniversary from his coat, and gave it to Chuuya.

It was a photograph, a picture of two people, and one of them was five year old Chuuya.

The picture was taken in an old village in the Western region, Piano Man said. The area was abandoned afterwards but Doc found this picture inside the medical record of the village. Lippmann then added that he had asked a woman to check all the military-related databases, in which she found out that the military once held a recruitment experiment in the Western region. Still, Chuuya’s friends were able to find the family tree of Chuuya, his school, his report card and his birth record. However, such an investigation must not be known to Mori because Mori thought that if Chuuya’s background remained a secret, Chuuya would not betray the Mafia.

Chuuya did not understand why his friends did this for him. Lippmann said because they were companions. He then proposed why not they name the younger’s club as ‘Flags’.

The Flags then went to a billiards bar. All of a sudden, apart from the six people playing the billiards, there was the seventh person who joined the game. He had long arms and legs, and of course very tall. Black hair with brown eyes, and was standing by the table seriously.

All of a sudden, Albatross used his Kulric knife and sliced on the seventh person's head, which produced an uncomfortable noise. Yet, that person escaped from the attack. A fight then broke out because the Flags thought this seventh person was an ability user, and suspected his intention for coming to the Mafia’s facility. However, Ice Man pointed out that this person was not an ability user, but the fight continued.

During the fight, Adam grabbed the legs of the table, and something grew from his hand. It was a small-scale dinosaur, that grew from Adam’s hands as if it were a plant. The battle was intense. Someone shouted Chuuya’s name out of nowhere, and Adam noticed something.

‘Chuuya-san’, Adam greeted Chuuya politely.

‘I am here to protect you,’ Adam replied. Adam introduced himself, and explained his mission. Adam was sent here to arrest an assassin called Paul Verlaine.

When Chuuya heard the name Verlaine, his facial expression changed.

‘Why do you know this name?’ asked Chuuya

‘Chuuya-san, you cannot defeat Verlaine on your own. That’s why I am here. Verlaine was not only an assassin. He is the king of assassins. He is your brother.’ said Adam.

The misconception was relieved, and the Flags, together with Adam, played billiards happily afterwards.

The story continues on 27th Feb

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs storm bringer #bungou stray dogs storm bringer #bsd storm bringer #bsd nakahara chuuya #nakahara chuuya

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teawaffles · 4 years ago

Text

There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 2

The next day.

After finishing his work at the mansion, Bond headed to Whitechapel’s Leman Street, where Maya and her company normally held their rehearsals. [1]

Walking down the noisy street was not just Bond, but also three other employees of the Moriarty household. One of them was Fred Porlock.

“It would’ve been fine if only you came along, Fred…… But thanks for joining us anyway, you two.”

Bond directed that to Jack Renfield and Sebastian Moran, who were walking a little behind him.

As Fred was a master of disguise, Bond had asked him to contribute his opinion on the performance too when Jack and Moran decided to tag along. Now the four of them were on their way to the rehearsal — with Louis’ permission of course.

Jack roared with laughter.

“No, you don’t have to thank me. I’ve watched my fair share of theatre, so I thought I could help them out, even if it’s from an amateur’s perspective,” said the old butler, nodding as he reminisced about those good old days.

“You’re probably just after the young girls from the theatre company, aren’t you old man?” Moran said, half in disgust. “Bond said this Maya chairwoman is a dashing lady in her own right, so I came along to feast my eyes on—— Ow, that hurt!”

Jack had clapped Moran on the head, as a warning to not shoot his mouth off.

“The only one here chasing women is you. Really, you didn’t even finish your chores properly before coming here.”

“I did my part just fine. For once, I’m not skipping out on work.”

“Rubbish — I did a check before we left and found some cigarette butts in the hallway. Don’t you dare annoy Louis any further.”

“……W-Well, the more the merrier, right?”

“…………”

Listening to their usual argument at the back of the group, Bond smiled wryly, while Fred was silent.

Finally, they had reached their destination. Waiting in front of the theatre was Maya, and her little sister Mae.

“Mister Bond!”

“Hey, haven’t seen you since yesterday.”

Mae waved her arms up and down in excitement, while Bond greeted them with a smile.

“S—sorry. Normally, she would play with the other children near our place, but today she insisted on coming with me…… By the way, um, who might these, d—dignified gentlemen be?”

“Ah, they work at the same household as me. The short one here is Fred. The somewhat scary-looking one is Moran. And this dandy old gentleman is Mr Jack. If you’re alright with it, I thought you could use their input as well.”

As Bond introduced them, the three men also greeted their host. But Maya seemed a little perplexed.

“……Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to come here in a big group,” Bond admitted, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“No, no.” Maya hurriedly waved her hands. “I—I’m really grateful to be able to, hear valuable feedback from, so many people. For now, let’s not stand here to talk, please come in……”

Maya guided them into the theatre, stooped in a self-abasing posture. Her faltering voice was much as the same as from their previous encounter, but today, nerves seemed to have crept in as well.

“She has a sort of shadow about her, but that has its own charm. Like the transient beauty of a young widow, don’t you think?”

“She’s pretty, for sure, but not really my type. More like the kind of woman who complicates things when you break up with her.”

“Um, sorry you two, but if you could just keep your voices down,” chided Bond, as Jack and Moran whispered about the chairwoman behind her back.

Right after the entrance was a cramped space. The box seats above them looked hastily constructed; in truth, the interior decorations made it seem more appropriate to call this place a playhouse, rather than a proper theatre.

But their guide had only praise. “The manager here is, a really nice person; whenever we say we want to practise, he’s always happy to lend it to us. There are performances held at night, so we can only use it during the day.”

“He trusts you, doesn’t he.”

Hearing her speak with such sincere gratitude, Bond was quietly impressed by her character. Perhaps her dark aura easily invited misunderstanding, but she was definitely genuine at heart.

“Speaking of which, Miss Maya, you said that you’re the director for this performance, but surely someone else is responsible for the sets and the arrangements at the other theatre during this time?”

“Another member is in charge of the sets, but the negotiations and the like, w—were handled by me. Even so, the manager of the larger theatre — a nobleman — had actually approached us to be the opening act for another company, and I just accepted his invitation.”

“Still, isn’t it great to be invited to perform on a bigger stage, even if it’s just as an opening act?”

“Yes; for people like us — a theatre company from the slums, we don’t have many chances to show the world what we can do, so everyone’s doing their very best.”

Saying that, Maya secretly clenched her fists. Surely the one working the hardest was none other than Maya herself.

There was no audience in the stalls, and on the stage were a number of men and women — likely the company members themselves — doing light warm-ups and vocal exercises. A few of the children he’d met yesterday were also frolicking about on stage.

One exceptionally tall man on the stage had noticed Bond and the others enter the hall, and spoke up.

“Oh, is that the rumoured theatre master?”

Moran whistled at this unusually grand title.

“Theatre master, eh. A fitting name considering your experience, Bond.”

“Fufu, I’m honoured.”

Bond accepted it with his innate courage and composure. Then, he went onto the stage with Maya, while the other three sat in the stalls at the far end, so as to not stand out and interfere with the rehearsal.

The company members each stopped what they were doing and lined up in wait.

“Everyone, this is Mr Bond, who will be watching our performance today,” introduced Maya.

Right then and there, her voice had become clearer and stronger. A little taken aback by the sudden change in her attitude, Bond took a quick look around the room.

“Hello to you all. I’m looking forward to what you have for me today,” he said solemnly, as he bowed.

“We’ll do our best!” The company members bowed their heads in unison.

From their greeting, Bond could feel the the quality of their bearing, and the strength of their cohesion. Not only that, the tension he himself once felt when he stood on stage came rushing back in waves.

He switched his frame of mind from that of a special agent, to that of an actor, and looked over Maya and her company with an earnest gaze.

“Well then, without further ado, please show me what you’ve got.”

“Yes!”

Even though his instructions had been given with no introductory remarks, they asked no unnecessary questions, and jumped straight into preparation. Even though they had only put up plays in cheap theatres, Maya’s company already displayed the high level of professionalism they had developed.

“Miss Maya, what’s the programme for today?” Bond asked, as he moved to the row of seats right in front of the stage.

Maya was also directing Mae and the other children to sit down. “We’re starting with ‘The Red Shoes’, followed by ‘The Little Mermaid’, and lastly, ‘The Little Match Girl’.”

“Hmm, fairytales, I see.”

The unexpected subject matter piqued his interest.

In a time when Shakespeare was all the rage, to perform children’s literature in a proper theatre, and a serious scripted play at that — now this was a bold move.

But as someone who liked to do things unconventionally, that was precisely why their play intrigued Bond. Yesterday’s playful rendition of “The Little Match Girl” was probably inspired by it as well.

Then, the tall man who noticed Bond earlier spoke up.

“Ain’t it interesting? Maya always makes sure to write plays that even us poor dumb folk understand. Today’s script is also entirely her work,” he said cheerfully.

“Weren’t you in charge of creating the play too? You should be able to write at least one decent line of dialogue.”

At the man’s self-satisfied tone, a woman beside him sighed. But he ignored her pointed comment and carried on.

“There were a bunch of people who’d always thought ‘Hamlet’ and ‘Macbeth’ and the like were plain boring; but after Maya broke them down into something easier to follow, they’ve gotten hooked onto Shakespeare.”

“Being able to interpret works in a way that everyone can understand…… A wonderful talent indeed.”

But if you were to put on a proper production of Shakespeare in an unregulated theatre like this, you would be caught by the censors. To avoid that, incorporating music and the like into their productions was a brilliant adaptation on their part.

Bond had said that last part out loud, and the man thanked him for his words of praise. The members of the company had shown their admiration for Maya, but the woman herself took in a deep breath, as if to hide her embarrassment.

In other words, in order to put on a play that everyone could follow, the answer she'd arrived at was “fairytales”. Although it may be the best choice given the short length of the opening act……

“I’m sitting next to Mister Bond!”

“Hey, no fair!”

Bond had been absorbed in thought about the contents of the play. Nearby, the children were scrambling for the best spots. Having won the seat to the left of Bond, Mae asked him a question.

“Mister Bond, do you like ‘fairy tales’?”

That pulled him out of his thought process for a moment, and Mae smiled.

“Yeah. I read them when I was a child.”

“I like them too, because Maya and the rest always read them in a fun way—”

“Me too!” The other children raised their hands and shouted. Reading stories aloud while acting out the roles was indeed a theatrical way of reading to children.

However, Mae immediately pouted in frustration.

“But I really hate that story.”

“……Why is that?”

“The little girl always looks so sad. I tried asking Maya to give it a happy ending, but she just said that we have to ‘respect the intent of the story’ and didn’t listen.”

Her words helped Bond discern the true nature of the incongruity he'd felt.

As Mae had said, all three stories had their protagonists fall into unfortunate circumstances and perish. It was true that many fairytales were cruel, but there were others with happy endings too. Was there some hidden intent behind these choices?

As Bond pondered the new question that surfaced in his mind, Mae leaned in towards him.

“Mister Bond, do you also think it’s important, what Maya said? No matter how sad a story is, can’t we make it happy on our own?”

She asked that question with clear eyes. Bond thought for a few seconds, before responding.

“It’s true that it’s important to understand the intention of the original story. If you change its contents haphazardly, the fans of the story would be upset. I think your sister is the type who would take that very seriously.”

Mae glanced down in disappointment at his level-headed answer, but Bond continued.

“However, if we were all afraid of criticism, then nothing new would ever be made. If you have something you really want to tell others, then I think it’s possible to add a new interpretation to a story. After all, one form of respect is to show the world how you would’ve done it.”

“……Oh I see!”

Mae brightened up, and Bond smiled. Her question was one that had always, and would continue to vex all interpreters of stories. But at the very least, he didn’t want to make a decision on which way was right.

Just as their conversation had come to an end, it seemed the preparations for the performance were now complete.

“Without further ado, let us begin.”

Standing on a platform, Maya gave a bow, and with that the curtain rose.

Footnotes:

[1] Leman Street is a little to the north-east of the Tower of London and St. Katharine Docks, and within walking distance of both.

T/N: Is this chapter some meta-level commentary on the series itself?! omg

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

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danteinthedevildom · 4 years ago

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A Royal Pajama Party “Analysis” - Part 4 (of 7)

We’ll skip over the Jenga scene for now; there’s nothing I really want to add on from it, and typing up another post is going to kill me. Instead, we’re going straight to the next activity - and a fairly major split between choices.

This Devilgram is absolutely spoilt for choice when it comes (ironically) to choices - and each one brings about something new to learn. You can consider some of these latter parts joined up, then; I’ve just grouped together different route options for sake of reading.

Of course, we’re deep into the Devilgram now, so all territory covered is locked behind Story Keys! This is your cursory spoiler warning.

Here we begin, back to our regular schedule of Diavolo angst.

There’s a potential you thought “watching a movie together” was bad enough to write on a list of things Diavolo’s never experienced before, and wants to share in this rare moment of time he’s managed to attain alone with you. Perhaps you even thought “playing Jenga” was worse.

Neither of those activities, however, have anything on the concept that Diavolo actually, genuinely wrote down, on his list of things he’s always wanted to do with you, “lazing around, doing nothing at all”.

This is, I think, the biggest indicator that he’s just... never had an actual, genuine, casual friendship before. He’s never had someone willing to spend time with him doing nothing.

Which - well. We already knew that. He’s told us before (as I mentioned in part 1) that he genuinely struggles to remember he can just invite you over without having to trick you with “event planning”. He forgets you’re willing to be around him.

But there’s a difference between “oh, I forgot - you actually don’t mind spending time with me” and “I’ve decided that I want to schedule actual time to just do something so simple and basic, it usually happens when most people hang out, but I’ve never been able to experience it before and I think I’d enjoy that time with you more than anything.”

It hurts to realise most demons won’t spend time in his presence without reason, but it’s actively worse to realise this reaction means he cherishes the ability to do nothing with you. To just savour the fact that you’re there, you’ve stayed, and you really would be happy doing nothing at all. That someone can enjoy just being in his presence, nothing important going on, because they have nothing else to do but focus on him and they don’t mind.

It’s proof that he’s really enough. Proof that, despite how reluctant others may be to put up with him, you see something in him worth enjoying. He doesn’t need to take you out anywhere, or do anything special. He doesn’t need to make it perfect. He doesn’t need to awe and wow you to stay by his side.

He can just sit around, nothing planned, and you’ll stay.

The only times he’s been able to keep demons at his side, he’s had to tie them down with oaths and pleas. These demons have expressed annoyance, at times, when he’s tried to spend time with them - admittedly because they are busy demons, and they don’t quite enjoy the same things as Diavolo, but that doesn’t exactly make the rejection feel much better. So it’s very possible that Diavolo struggles to recognise his own self worth.

It’s very possible that he doesn’t think himself a good enough reason to enjoy a night in. Most friends can say - and often do - that they happily spend time together just hanging out. Talking, lounging around, relaxing, but not really doing much more than basking in the other’s company. Yet Diavolo can’t. Experience tells him “Diavolo’s company” isn’t enough to make someone stay.

That’s why it’s important to him to schedule this time in, despite how natural it should be. It’s not natural to him. It’s exceedingly rare, actually, and thus an activity he wants to enjoy when he has the opportunity for it.

But it’s also a reminder - proof - that at least to you, “Diavolo’s company” means something. That, to you, he means enough on his own to be worth spending time with.

Moreover, this time with you is likely dear to him due to how busy his usual schedule is. After all...

How much free time does a prince get?

How much time can he spend doing nothing, especially with you - someone so desired, people actively fight over your time and attention?

There is no better way to savour the fact he - for once - has all your time and attention, no pressing matters to attend to, than to do nothing. He can just sit there and enjoy you. No interruptions. No distractions. Nothing to fret over or worry about. Just the two of you, content in each other’s company. It’s a reassurance. A moment of, “wow, this is really real, isn’t it?”

More importantly, however, is the fact that it’s you. He’d love “nothing more. Together with you, that is...”

He doesn’t want to be on his own. That’s not the point of the activity. It’s not that he wants to do nothing, that he wants to just sit there and read or eat some fruit as if those things are significant on their own. He doesn’t just want free time because he’s busy and overworked and doing nothing is fun.

It’s specifically because you’re there. Because he’s not alone. Because these things he maybe does in his free time feel different when he’s doing them with you.

Of course, if you noticed, there’s two choices he gives you above: read, or eat fruit. I’ve gone for the reading option for this post series, as the fruit open mostly gives a romantic lead and not much development otherwise.

In this scene, Diavolo’s reading a book to you. It’s actually a single poem from an anthology he loves - from the Human World, once again.

(The Human World seems to mean a lot to Diavolo. It recurrs a lot. When he’s given the opportunity to pick something, it’s almost always media from the Human World. Whether this is because he hopes it’ll help you two bond over common ground or he just idealises the Human World, or maybe even a bit of both, is uncertain. Interesting, however, that it’s cropped up twice now; even more interesting that the only things he chooses that are Devildom-themed are games and food - things that don’t reflect human culture as much, unless you know more of the context behind them.)

The poem Diavolo reads is called “The Greatest of All.”

This poem is extremely significant for Diavolo. It’s a huge part of his characterisation in this chapter, and one of the more overt scenes at that - because he’s exceedingly clear that this poem didn’t make sense to him before. He makes it utterly transparent that something has changed - in him, in his life, in his understanding - to suddenly reveal the meaning to him.

And it’s all because of that final point.

“Only those beloved by their peers truly rule the earth.”

Diavolo’s a prince. He quite literally rules the Realm he was born in. As far as he’s aware, that’s all there is to ruling; be the monarch, and you’re there. It couldn’t possibly be more literal than that.

So what does that final line really mean, to a prince? What does it mean to someone who really is the literal definition of “ruling the earth”?

Almost nothing at all. It’s baffling. It’s nonsensical. How more truly could you rule than to physically be the demon in power?

Of course it would never click for him before.

He’s never been beloved before you.

It’s only recently that he’s understood the poem. Only recently has the Exchange Programme been in action, and only recently has he actually gotten closer to you - moreso in the much later Lessons.

Diavolo has spent much of his life in power, but completely alone. He��s had almost no connections, no friends, no love or intimate, personal attention; no-one he could say he understood like the back of his hand, who understood every aspect of him in turn.

He has power and wealth but he’s never truly ruled - not until someone who made him feel alive came into his life.

Because that’s the point of this poem. It’s not about wealth, or power, or bravery, or support - it’s about being loved.

You could have everything in the world, but you’d still be nothing compared to the person with little to their name expect the love of their friends.

Only someone who can say “I have friends who’ll stand beside me through thick and thin; who love me as much as I love them; who see the qualities in me even I didn’t know exist; who bring out the best in me and make me want to be better” is truly great. Only they can say that they have achieved the greatest potential in a fulfilling life.

Diavolo’s realised how empty his life was prior to you appearing in it. He’s realised just how little he had - how much he’s missed out on, how much he wasn’t getting from the other people he considers friends - and how much happier he is now you’re there. How much bigger he feels. How much stronger. How much greater.

You are the change that helped him make sense of the nonsensical. You, in befriending him, have utterly changed the way he exists; how he feels, how he experiences, how he thinks. You’ve brought to the table things he never would have considered before - things he never would have been able to consider, because he needed a friend to help eek them out of him; a friend he could love, and cherish, and whom loves and cherishes him just as much - and quite suddenly, he realises why having no-one limits a person no matter how much they own materially.

This poem is, very likely, the reason he understood how much you mean to him. At some point, he re-read it, reached that final line, and pictured you.

Which is an incredibly poetic way for Diavolo to show just how much you mean to him; how much you’ve improved every aspect of his life. Without having to say your name, or overtly connect you to the poem, it’s clear that it’s about you - that you’re the reason for his understanding.

Becase this poem means a lot to him, and you’re the person he wants to share it with; the one he wants to know he’s changed for.

Which perfectly leads us to this next part...

You’re his greatest person. He’s still dancing around it, but there’s really no-one else it can be - not with this description.

Diavolo has spent - if not his entire life, then a good portion of it, wondering who the most important person to him would be. There’s no way to quantify something like that - to know who’s the greatest person in your life, to find the perfect fit for a list of requirements - because everyone needs something different from the people around them. But what would that person look like for him? What would the most important person look like for a prince?

Someone as royal as he? Someone who supports him, bound to his service? Someone who has no choice but to help him in every way?

Or would it look like a human - a plain, simple, ordinary human - brave enough to tangle with demons and kind enough to befriend them, even when they don’t deserve it?

Someone willing to spend a night with him doing things others might find boring or rudimentary?

Someone who makes him feel like more than a title; like more than the “Prince of the Devildom”?

Someone who’s changed him - however many thousands of years old he is - in such a very short span of time?

When you think about it like that, really, it could only have ever been you.

+++

And thus concludes part 4! A middling one this time, I think; a bit long, but that final part was a little shorter than I had anticipated. Still, I hope you enjoyed it, and that it was easy enough to read!

Next post, we’ll be going over the concluding parts of the Devilgram - for the romantic route, at least. It’ll initially go over the scene that preceeds the choice between romantic and platonic, but then dive straight into the romantic aspect of the chapter.

So, if you’d like, please head over to part 5!

#obey me diavolo #obey me analysis #obey me

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hislopchino · 3 years ago

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The HeeBeeGeeBees Story In Angus Deayton's Own Meaningless Words

Posted by Tumblr User smarterthantheaverage via archive.org. Archived from the original (deleted) on 30 May 2009. Retrieved 2 May 2010.

There’s an episode of Have I Got News For You where, during the show’s final Caption Competition, a still is shown of three men dressed, false beards and all, as The Bee-Gees. This incongruity garners little audience laughter, until Paul Merton points out that the one in the middle is the show’s host, Angus Deayton. It is then realised that this is some sort of supposed practical joke played on Deayton, the show’s makers unexpectedly bringing up a silly-looking picture from his past, and the audience responds accordingly. Angus, knowing what is expected of him, feigns a look of embarrassment throughout.

But in reality, however, throughout this incident it is clear that Angus Deayton is not in the slightest bit embarrassed, except perhaps at the producer’s misjudgment regarding the prank. For this is not just a picture of a panel show host and his two friends dressed as The Bee Gees from a long time ago - this is a picture of The HeeBeeGeeBees, the Bee Gees-parodying band of which Deayton was a member for five years from 1979 to 1984. Angus Deayton is more than happy to recall publicly his time as a HeeBeeGeeBee - it’s just that, what with one scandal or another, no interviewer thinks to ask.

With a short exception. There was a fourteen-month period in Angus Deayton’s life, starting with him just becoming a household name due to the twin successes of KYTV and Have I Got News For You and lasting up to his first tabloid scandal, where journalists were keen to learn about this seemingly glamorous aspect of Deayton’s past life, and Deayton, having had over a decade to reflect on his unexpected pop career, was delighted to tell. This period ran from March 1992, when Deayton was a comedy star with KYTV series two starting on the 17th of March and the third series of Have I Got News For You, which that month won the BAFTA for Best Light Entertainment Programme, starting with an Election Special on the 9th of April, until May 1993, when Deayton messily left his partner of nine years Stephanie De Sykes, a singer best known for having a hit with Born With A Smile On My Face in 1974 after having sung it on Crossroads - she and Angus met during a Radio Active sketch in 1984. Here we quote the relevant extracts from those interviews (the sources of which can be found below) in their chronological order of events, and therefore for the first time give you the story of The HeeBeeGeeBees in Angus Deayton’s own meaningless words.

In his final year reading French and German at Oxford, Angus Deayton was invited to join the Oxford Revue by Richard Curtis. “Two people had to drop out, and just on the strength of meeting me, Richard asked if I wanted to be in it. [4] I never set foot on stage throughout my school days and never had any great feeling for it. It all materialised through meeting Richard Curtis, who writes Blackadder. He asked me to take part in the Oxford Revue when someone dropped out. Then it snowballed.” [3]

It was in this Revue that Deayton met, wrote and performed with Michael Fenton Stevens and Philip Pope. Of the latter, the primary song-writer of the trio, Angus has said: “He seemed to have an innate understanding of how to write a sketch and structure it. He’d go for jokes that were intrinsically funny, where I went for wordplay - my failing. He went by John Cleese’s three laws of comedy: no puns, no puns and no puns. Mind you, I say no puns… I think the only sketch we ever wrote with him was one that involved a man going into a police station and saying ‘I’d like to report that my car is missing’ and the policeman says ‘It’s probably the spark plug, sir’…” [5]

For the Oxford Revue the three of them formed The HeeBeeGeeBees. “It started as a sketch from the Oxford Revue, in Edinburgh in 1979. It involved three of us dressing up as the Gibb brothers and singing in silly voices. It was the best thing in the show. Two people from a record company in London came up and saw it, and, in the time-honoured tradition of fairy tales, signed us up. Unfortunately, it didn’t follow the fairy tale any more than that, because it wasn’t actually a hit over here. It was a hit within the media and at discos. It got to number two in the Capital Radio chart, which relied on people ringing in, but only to number 79 in the official charts [3] - in with a parachute. [4] There were all sorts of conspiracy theories. The most likely one was that our record company tried to hype it into the charts. Someone cottoned onto it because we stayed at number 79 for about four weeks running. We were bubbling under ad nauseum… They kept saying we’ll have you on Top of the Pops, but you’ve got to be in the charts first. It was Catch 22.” [1]

The HeeBeeGeeBees story (the real one, not the fictional one as heard in The HeeBeeGeeBees Story, a Radio 2 special broadcast on Saturday the 19th of December 1981) seems like it should have ended here, what with their single never reaching higher than 79 in the UK chart. Except…: “It was a big success in Australia for some strange reason. [3] Australia is probably my favourite country. There’s always a nice climate, fabulous food, nice wine, people who sort of speak the same language. It’s just like being on holiday, even when you’re working. I first went over in 1981 with The HeeBeeGeeBees, then twice with a stage show and once with Rowan Atkinson. They laugh in roughly the same places, but about four times as loudly. And there’s the added advantage that you can become famous overnight. [2] In Australia, you’re on the news just for turning up. [4] As soon as you arrive you’re on the news. If you turn up in Adelaide you’re probably the only show that’s actually on. You’re a big fish in a small pool, so it’s easier to get products across. [2] The group took off massively, whereas back here we didn’t even get in the charts. Unless you’re on Top of the Pops there’s no way you can do. But there we went gold. [2] The album went gold and we went on pop programmes and were lauded as pop stars when, in fact, we were just graduates. We were sending up the lifestyle of rock stars and we were being treated as rock stars ourselves. It was a bit like Spinal Tap. It was a very strange time. [3] It was a strange halfway house. The audience realised we were actors pretending to be pop stars, but they’d over step the mark… You’d arrive at a studio and find adoring fans screaming at the stage door.” [1]

The fact that This Is Spinal Tap was in the back of Angus Deayton’s mind is no surprise, as he was a tremendous admirer of the film: “It’s faultless. Every aspect was so well observed. When you can hit a comic vein like that, of rock star speaking garbage, you can listen to them for hours just spouting on… They’re huge heroes.” [1]

The Australia tours, incidentally, also marked an peculiar time for the loves of Deayton’s life, past and present. His partner at the time, Helen Atkinson-Wood, a performer from the Oxford Revue and part of The HeeBeeGeeBees show, almost drowned during one of the tours when she was caught in a rip whilst swimming on Sydney’s Manly Beach. She later recalled the experience: “Slowly and surely we were being pulled out to sea and I was shrieking and Angus heroically came to my rescue, one arm around my waist, the other swimming… It is no exaggeration to say that he saved my life. But then, Angus was always the perfect gentleman.” [5] It was also during one of the Australia tours that he became close with Rik Mayall’s partner and co-writer Lise Mayer - a decade later the pair would start dating after Deayton’s split from Stephanie De Sykes. Mayer explained: “We were in Australia at the same time. I was writing The Comic Strip series with Rik, he was touring with The HeeBeeGeeBees.” [6]

The HeeBeeGeeBees’ second LP, 20 Big No 2’s, was released solely in Australia, but was nowhere near as big a success as the first, 439 Golden Greats: “The first one went gold, the second went rust. [4] The second album went rust - not even in Australia did that succeed - but we had a lot of fun promoting it and we did a tour down there. It wound up about 1984. [3] I’d had quite enough of the music business - it’s absurd. I love pop music and pop stars, but the people involved in the business side are faintly ridiculous but at the same time hugely powerful. I never associated making records with making money. They were just something funny with your face on to give the relatives at Christmas. [3] It was funny because we were only 23 or something. We’d just left university. And it was a parody band, so they were all send ups. It was slightly strange being lauded as pop stars. But I think we loved it really.” [2]

Sources:

[1] “Sending comedy into orbit” by Mark Wareham, pages 19 and 20 of the Independent, Friday the 13th of March 1992. [2] “My Favourite Places: Angus Deayton” by Sheila Menuhin, page 26 of the Weekend Guardian, Saturday the 30th of May 1992. [3] “Why Mr Sex finds fame such a surprise; How a little luck helped Angus grab the headlines” by Jill Parsons, pages 33 and 35 of the Daily Mail, Saturday the 10th of October 1992. [4] “Show People: 47. Angus Deayton - Have I got a newcomer for you” by Laurence Earle, page 24, the Independent On Sunday, Sunday the 11th of October 1992. [5] “And moving swiftly on…” by Carol Sarler, pages 18, 21 and 22 of the Sunday Times Magazine, Sunday the 9th of May 1993. [6] “Have we got views for you: Angus Deayton’s Hong Kong” by Anthea Gerrie, pages 12, 14, 15 and 17 of the Mail On Sunday, Sunday the 26th of September 1993.

#Angus Deayton #Text #I would love to hear more from this user but sadly their account was hacked by those stupid tumblr bots #And now all of their old posts were deleted #Thanks archive.org for saving this page!

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gofancyninjaworld · 4 years ago

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watching ONE write women

One of the joys of following a writer for a while is that you get to follow how their ideas develop. One of the things that ONE brought up in an interview (annoyingly I’ve lost the link) was that he didn’t think that he wrote women particularly well.

I was thinking about that. When ONE says that, what comes across to me is that he has no problem writing a female character as an individual rather than a role. All the girls and women he’s written so far have their own voices, own their problems, and have something to do within the story that would be noticeable if they weren’t there. Quite frankly, that alone is over and above what various tests of representation (such as the Bechdel test) ask for.

What he’s not so good at is appreciating what being female brings to a character’s experiences and outlook. But he’s not just left it at that. More on what he’s been doing in a bit (and under the cut).

“...the law forbids rich and poor alike to sleep under bridges...” -- Anatole France

With his sharp eye and talent for exploring the implications of whatever he posits, ONE has brought up some issues are not inherently gendered, but usually are.

A: Childcare

Metal Bat appears to be the main, if not sole, carer for Zenko. How it affects him is fascinating. He’s one of the longest-serving heroes in the Hero Association, being there before Class S was formed, literally within the first six months of its establishment. He’s been extremely loyal and is highly trusted by the HA -- they put Narinki’s life into his hands without fear. His battle strength is literally praised to the heavens.

Metal Bat makes Zenko a priority, structuring his availability around her school schedule and being present in her life. He gets very angry if these times are threatened without overwhelmingly good cause. His reward is to be perceived by the Hero Association as less committed and so they under-recognise him in terms of ranking, and since rank and pay are linked, under-pay him as well. It’s a story all too many women can relate to. But that’s not all.

Because ONE writes so simply yet conscientiously, something else comes up and has a peek: intersectionality. It’s the concept that we often have multiple social disadvantages that interact and compound our problems. The first is sexism. Regardless of whatever childcare policy the HA has, the sexist assumption that only women care (for the record: this is bullshit) makes it unlikely for them to ask Metal Bat. Second, social capital. The fact that he’s Zenko’s sole carer means that he has low social capital, that informal network of people around you who can help out -- or tell you where to find help and what things to say in order to get that help. [Aside: this is why programmes to help people, unless they reach out aggressively, tend to disproportionately attract those who need it least.] Metal Bat doesn’t have the knowledge. The third is the challenge brought by his being a 17-year old boy. He’s quick to perceive challenge as threat, and threat as something to be met by anger. Witness him threatening to smash the HA headquarters if it turns out that he’s missed Zenko’s piano recital for nothing -- completely not useful to anything. [Another aside: the importance of learning to disambiguate emotions and do useful things with them even if it means being vulnerable as a part of growing up as a man is the whole point of Mob Psycho 100.]

What do the Neo Heroes do? They ask Metal Bat if he wants help with childcare AND HE JUMPS SHIP PRONTO. If that’s not an indictment of the Hero Association, I don’t know what is.

B: Emotional Labour

Saitama has been delegating more and more of the day-to-day work to Genos. What started as an act of service to express his gratitude, respect and love for Saitama is increasingly turning into a second job for Genos. It’s not just the cooking and cleaning and the shopping and the bailing Saitama out if he’s forgotten his wallet again, it’s also the worrying about Saitama, sometimes at inappropriate times. Has he drunk enough water? Has he clean clothes in good repair? What sales is he looking forward to? Have they been marked on the calendar? It’s honestly not doing Genos any good, and it’s one of those things all too many frustrated wives and girlfriends can relate to. This doing the practical and emotional work for another is not intrinsically gendered, but funny how often it breaks that way.

It’s not doing Saitama any good either. He’s using this freed up time to fritter his life ever more aggressively away, playing games with King and finding pointless competitions to enter, all while complaining about feeling less and less connected to anything (if you don’t address the problem, it doesn’t get better, duh!). Worse, he’s started to take that gift of service for granted, witness him airily telling King how he’ll just have Genos go clear up the mess of monsters he’s left outside the flat. I was heartened to see what happened when Saitama went a little too far and asked Genos to go cook and instead of jumping up, Genos gave him the the evil eye and let the awkwardness hang there. That was good -- there’s hope for this guy yet.

Speaking of Genos, he also over-functions for something else Saitama struggles with: advocating for himself. He tends to have Genos be the ugly one so he doesn’t have to be. You can see just how bad he is at self-advocacy when Forte and friends could invite themselves into Saitama’s house at will despite his protests -- and it stopped the instant Genos showed up.

In a sense, it’s not surprising that Genos can do that. When you’re differently-abled (and for once, this is not a euphemism) as he is, being able to clearly ask for what you want and need is life-and-death necessary. If Genos was shy about it, he’s long since had to discard that. But! Let me point to a nuance the story touches on. How pushy you can be without being punished for it depends a lot on who you are, intersecting strongly with race, gender, social status, etc (remember my mentioning intersectionality before). What’s called assertive in a man is called bitchy or sharp-elbowed in a woman. Even taking gender and race out of the equation, there’s still a noticeable difference in the way the world treats Saitama and Genos. You don’t need to be Sigmund Freud to understand the way the short, ugly Dr. Kuseno sweats making sure that Genos positively radiates youth, beauty, wealth and power. That’s part of his right to ask and be taken seriously. You can see how drastically different it is for Saitama, even from his middle school days. Genos notices, and makes sure to leverage his social power for Saitama.

What I love about these examples are that by not automatically heaving a woman into these characters’ roles, ONE’s brought a less frequently seen angle that illustrates the problems they deal with are not ‘womens’ issues per se but are rather inequities that disproportionately affect women -- which is at the heart of what feminists keep saying. When you read Makai no Ossan, you can appreciate that ONE could have gone with female characters and done a great job, but his choosing not to has brought a very welcome dimension to the story.

Women proper

“I’m not like other girls”

Still, bit by bit, ONE has been working more women into his stories. After his interview, the next thing he worked on was the single-volume sequel to Mob Psycho 100, Reigen. He took his challenge head-on by making the POV character Tome and putting her in an all-girls’ high school.

Throughout the story, we see Tome thinking of herself as special, better than her fellow classmates, whom she sees as vapid and shallow. The denouement comes with Tome being humbled as she gets to know her classmates better and realises that they pursue interests just as varied and weird as hers -- only they’re also practicing being socially adept on top of that.

It’s a gentle story, but it’s still a great side-swipe at self-internalised misogyny, the idea that it’s shameful to be like a ‘girl’ and it’s something to distance oneself from. Fortunately, Tome can laugh at herself and grow up.

“Ha ha ha”

For a long time, the only (named) women we had in OPM were Tatsumaki and her younger sister Fubuki. We’ve gotten more women both good and bad: in particular, it’s been very gratifying to find that one of the most dangerous, story-shaping villains in the story is Psykos.

In the webcomic, ONE’s pushed even further. A recent Tweet featured him talking about how hard he finds it to draw women. And he’s added several. No same-face for him! I’ll talk about the new heroines he’s added, but first, let me draw your attentions to something most artists don’t realize they do: massively skew the gender distribution of crowds, even when it is incredibly illogical to do so. With ONE, even drawing the crowds at the fair who gaggle at Amai Mask, he’s got a far more even balance of women and they’re not all young and pretty -- which is much more true-to-life. He’s in the business of drawing people.

ONE has featured microaggressions before, particularly in the way Fubuki can have perfectly sound things to say and be totally ignored, but he brings it properly to the fore with Suiko. No one calls her incompetent, but the little put downs she gets when she puts herself forward for the hero test in lieu of her brother, oh they’re well-observed The look on her face just makes it. I love the way she shut the recruiters up subsequently.

Let’s conclude this tour with a look at Webigaza’s lonely figure. We have another mono-manically focused cyborg in the story. Genos has been called a lot of things -- determined, obsessive even, but crazy? Never. Notice who it’s been reserved for instead. It’s no slip of the tongue.

Wrapping Up

I’m of the impression that ONE really wants to try to capture as much of the human experience as he can in his stories, however whimsical or fantastical the stories themselves are. I’m disarmed by his humility in accepting that he’ll never have the lived experience of half the world’s population but he sure as hell can put some effort into learning how to to writing well-realised, believable, female characters.

I watch ONE’s continued development as a writer with interest.

#OPM #Reigen #ONE #meta #long #women #female characters #I like that ONE treats women not as creatures whose problems and experiences can't possibly be understood #but as people first and foremost #perfect? No and who is #ongoing and adding to his understanding -- yes

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msilwrites · 4 years ago

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(A 3AM Short Story) - (SHORT 1/2) - The Dark Knight

A/N: Hi guys, I have a lot of drafts I've been editing inside the draft folder of my Tumblr page. Sorry that I have not published them, I'm aware I make a lot of grammar mistakes, therefore, just I want them to be written properly, for it to have a strong narrative voice and can be easily understood.

Nonetheless, here is one of them...

Let me add, I'm actually busy updating my other stories, so do standby for that!

Cast -

'Q' is an Original Character

'K' / Kieran Sorensen - Mads Mikkelsen

WARNING: SEXUAL TENSIONS.... you need cold water!

The Dark Knight

Even before Q was known as 'Q', she was first a trainee under 'K' or Kieran, her commanding officer. However, she didn't expect to work beside him after finishing her training and working for the MI6. Neither did she expect that he was preparing her to take over once he steps down. That he wanted her to succeed him.

It all started when she entered the training programme. He had interviewed her for the first time, whilst holding on to the piece of paper which contained information about her background.

A woman who spent her primary education in Dragon School, and a secondary education at top international school in Shanghai, before graduating tertiary in Cambridge. With these, she could've been considered a 'strong candidate'.

"Privileged..." was his reply, upon reading everything. He clearly wasn't impressed. "You're probably very intelligent, but do you have grit?"

She gulped nervously and was thankful enough that she didn't write anything about her grandfather being an admiral or her father being an officer.

She remembered what he had told her clearly the first time, which is why it was a surprise to her that he considered her as a 'successor'.

Her job was something classified, she was not a field agent, but her duty was akin to that of a chess player, a tactician, a strategist and her chess pieces, were the agents under her command. And the playground was the operations she led and handled. And after a long time, she became good at it.

Throughout the years, she slowly got the hang of it, and finally earned the respect of her colleagues and superiors, specially Keiron, who had eventually become fond of her.

Everything was fine until she received a piece of devastating news.

Q's mother had committed suicide and her sister had a breakdown. At first, she couldn’t believe it. She knew her mother would never do such a thing! Didn’t she just remarry a good man who also happens to be wealthy? and had told her that she is in love with her new husband? That didn’t sound like the jovial mother she had often talked to over the phone. But as the details and truth began to resurface, everything became clearer...

As Q dug deeper for the truth, receiving the suicide note, her mother’s diary, the Private Investigator’s report and her sister’s story, one thing became clear; the cause of her family’s ruin was her mother’s new husband; Vincenzo Rosello.

Much to the family’s dismay, the truth was something painful to learn. Q broke down and cried. She considered dropping everything, just to get to her sister.

Her sister Helene, according to the report given to her by the investigator, was locked up in a private mental institution/ rehab in Mallorca and was given medication that had kept her mind blank every day.

Her grandfather and father were willing to do anything to get Helene rescued. But Q knew that if both her grandfather and father made a move, it will cause a diplomatic problem for the country. It was enough pretext for them that they should not intervene or try anything. Besides, the fact that the information was classified and Vincenzo Rosello was no ordinary man, makes it no easy task for her grandfather and father who holds high positions in the government, compared to her, a 'small fly'. So Q talked her family out of it and took it upon herself to rescue her sister, whatever it took.

At first, Q leaks the story to BBC News and CNN through an agent contact in Madrid, believing that public sympathy and pressure would force the country to intervene. However, Kieron Sorensen had done something, causing the networks to retract the news as a hoax.

Q was angry of course, upon learning of what happened. But she couldn't show it, and couldn't let anyone know that it was her who had leaked the information.

She didn't know what was coming for her until Kieron summoned her to his office.

"Ah, Q, please take a seat," Kieron offers, as she closes the door behind her. She had a feeling he might try to pry something out of her, but whatever it was, she decided that she will not admit to anything.

"What did you call me for?"

"Straightforward as always! Well, do you remember the painting at the museum that we saw?" he starts.

She scratches her head and thought how random the question was. "Which painting?"

"In front of the painting where I first handed you your badge," he said.

She suddenly remembered the event years ago, when he had welcomed her officially to the agency, by giving her a gun and badge inside a box, at a gallery, right in front of a painting. It looked more like a transaction between two people instead of a 'welcome' due to its secret, unnoticeable nature.

"Yes... what about it?"

"What was the painting again?" he asked.

"A knight and a lady," was her answer.

"A yes! 'A knight and his lady'! remember what I told you that time?"

"That there is no knight in shining armour to the rescue, that you are your own knight..." she casually mentions.

"And?" asking her to continue.

"That we should not aspire to be white knight, but a 'dark knights'" she rolls her eyes, thinking that this was a waste of time. "If there is anything else, I would like to go. I have a lot more paperwork to do,"

Kieron smiled " I am glad you remember, what is this then?" he pushes a paper towards her, containing the report that was leaked to the networks.

" I do not know what is this about?" she feigns ignorance.

His handsome face twists into a cynical smile. "Oh Q, isn't that your sister in the news?"

"Yes, I can see that, but we have been estranged ever since our parents divorced..." she lied. In fact, she almost communicated with them every day.

"I see..." Kieron folds his hands and takes a long hard look at her, which made her uncomfortable, but she was not going to give anything away. "I just want to remind you not to play the 'Dark Knight' in this situation. I'm not saying it was you who did this but consider the position your family would be in."

"Is that a threat, Director?" she clenched her teeth.

"No, it's a warning..." was his response, followed by a handsome smile, that she had so wanted to punch.

"Duly noted..." was her resigned response.

"I'm glad you understand, we have to always choose and preserve the greater good..."

"Greater good? so you want me to abandon my sister?" her voice was strained, as anger began to rise within her.

"I never said that... What I'm saying is, incidents like this can be considered as something against the agency and the government "

"I am aware of that and don't need you to remind me..." was her curt reply.

"I will not tolerate insubordination, and I will not back you up or rescue you if you continue this," he adds.

"I did not break any rules..." was her firm response, bent on not admitting anything.

" If that is so, you are to take a two-week compassionate leave,"

"I don't need it, I have a lot of work to do," she says, brushing it off.

"It's not a request, it's an order..." was his stern reply. "You're not into step into the office within those two weeks,"

"You can't do that?! I have a lot of work to do, and people who depend on me," she insists. She knew the moment she leaves the office, she will be unable to access some resources needed to rescue her sister.

"That's all taken care of," he said nonchalantly.

She felt her plans fall apart. It was obvious why Kieron was doing this. And that is to prevent her from taking any action, and this made her extremely frustrated.

" You have 2 days to finish whatever you can. After that, surrender your access card and gun before you go..." he adds, which finally broke the camel's back.

In a fit of anger, Q bolts out of her seat and attacks Kieran, pulling his arm forward, and punches his face the moment she had close the distance, which caught him off guard.

But a seasoned combatant like Kieron had recovered quickly and caught her body, swung her into his back and slammed her hard on the table.

Q, flinched in pain, but was not one to give up, countered his attack by trying to lock his arm, forcing him into submission. However, he was able to free himself from it and back throws her, causing her to land on the nearby couch with a loud thud.

But before she could even recover, Kieron had already gone on top of her and held both her wrist above her head, pinning her down the couch in a compromising position.

He leans close to her face and whispers to her ears, "You do that again, I will not be as merciful..."

She felt goosebumps on her neck with what he did. It was no mistake, she was turned on. It was also not a big help that Kieron is a handsome man. She did not want to look at him in the eye, or the feelings that she had withheld inside her, for him, all these years, might just spill...

He drags her back up and buttons the top part of her shirt, which she had not noticed was open. Some of the buttons were gone due to the physical altercation that had happened between them earlier. Her face felt warm as she looked away, as the gesture felt sensual and intimate. A significant other is supposed to do these things, not your boss! And certainly not after a fight!

He stilled her and gently tilted her chin to meet up his gaze. For a moment she was lost in his citrine eyes.

"Don't cause trouble, I would hate to lose you..." he whispered, and it felt more of a warning. "Go..." he turns around and walks back to his table, waving her off.

"Damn him..." she muttered under her breath as she went back to her small office. She had only two days to do her work, in addition to getting whatever resources she needs to rescue her sister. If Kieron thought this setback will discourage her, then he is wrong.

**********

After two days of work, the moment she had reached home, she had finally decided to go off-grid. She knew the moment she had left the agency, Kieron would've probably put her under watch list.

Pushing a heavy bookshelf on the side, the self glided easily despite its weight, revealing a small secret room with a vault inside her apartment. On one part of the shelf, was two fake passports and identity cards she had procured over the years, on one part was a thick clipping of the currency 'Euros'. She takes them and throws packs into her bag, before coming back for the vault, and taking another handphone.

She leaves her handphone on the bedside table and didn't plan on taking it with her to Spain. Kieron surely would use it to track her and she couldn't risk anyone knowing her plans and ruin them.

But before leaving, she messages her father;

'Perseus is coming for Andromeda'

**********

Mallorca, Spain

Q was not surprised that it was raining hard the moment she arrived at Mallorca. It was after one of their coldest seasons.

She wasted no time and immediately embraced her new identity, Geórgia Santos, a woman from Terrassa who will work as the cleaner at the psychiatric hospital where her sister, Helene is confined.

She eventually took on her role well, and immediately gained the respect of the medical staff within a few days of working as a cleaner. She even gained information who are some of the patients, through gossip with the nurses.

By the end of the week, she learned that the forbidden room she wasn't allowed to enter was the same room Helene is solely confined in. Not only because it was guarded. Moreover, thrice a week, a man comes to visit the room and stays there for almost a whole day, and he would ask the staff about his 'prisoner' in the room.

Upon learning the whole truth, she had sneaked in one night into her sister's room and found her in a state any family member would not like to see. Her informer was right, Helene was kept mentally blank every day. She had eventually bribed the nurse and the doctor assigned in Helene's room for information and their silence. According to the nurse she had bribed for information, the ‘stepfather’ would often visit Helene and stay at her quarters for a ‘very long time'.

Flabbergasted, Q calls out the nurse for not doing anything. But the nurse reasons that the ‘stepfather’ is a powerful man and they themselves were afraid to go against him. When she made it known that she wanted to take Helene from the institution and bring her back to England, the nurse and the doctor, though feeling guilty, advised her not to, as Vicenzo Rosello will not allow it. It will put the whole staff in jeopardy.

When she promised a way out, and a way to cripple Vicenzo, so that he would not misdirect his anger. Both of them immediately agreed and cooperated.

"Saint George, has seen the dragon" she sends another cryptic message to her father. What it actually meant is that she had seen Vicenzo.

The messaging window indicated 'typing' for a long time. She knew her father was holding back the anger, he was surely thinking of giving an order to kill. But no, he seems to have thought it through.

"Saint George should not slay the dragon," was his response followed by "Yet...".

Q chuckled upon receiving the message. Oh, the many ways they plan to hurt Vicenzo. After all, killing him immediately is an easy way out. They should torment him every chance they get, after what happened to her mother and Helene.

Unbeknownst to the agency, within her two last days before her compassionate leave. She had forged a directive signed by the agency's head to begin "Operation Persues" a rescue mission that is spearheaded by the SAS that she had developed within a short amount of time as 'Plan B" for her own attempt to rescue her sister.

On the night of the extraction, the moment the power was cut, Q hurriedly rushed to the floor where her sister was confined. The guards were out so she was able to easily enter her room.

When she entered Helene's room, she found her sleeping soundly in the dark, much to her relief. She checks her watch to see how much time she has. She could carry her sister to the nearby coastline herself where a boat is supposedly waiting for them, or wait for the soldiers she assigned to guide them there.

Her plan was to get Helene to Madrid and have her transported via car (as she was not mentally stable) to the south of France where their grandfather was waiting for them.

She felt her hands grow cold, as the clock ticks. The guards will be back any time now, and she has no gun to neutralize them if it comes into an altercation.

Suddenly, there was a sharp sound of a suppressor, followed by a loud thud on the floor. There was a knock on the door before it opened to reveal an imposing figure standing in the door frame, dressed in black night ops camouflage, with a large rifle. A normal person would probably be scared if they see him. After all, he looked like the stuff of 'nightmares' specially with his face covered, and his eyes were night-vision lenses that made him look like a multi-eyed monster.

"She's not stable," she whispers to the man. " I'm afraid of her waking up, and causing a commotion. "

The man nodded in understanding, before signalling another soldier outside of the room to come in.

The other soldier takes out a syringe containing a sedative to calm Helene down, in case she wakes up. In any other situation, Q would be fine, doing it to the target. She had carried out a lot of operation that needed this course of action. But now that they're doing it to her sister, she felt a little conflicted.

Another soldier enters the room and carries Helene out carefully. The first soldier, who first entered the room pulls out a gun from one of his armour's holsters and hands it to her.

"Thank you," she says softly, glad that he was considerate enough to give her a weapon to defend herself.

In a few minutes time, the power will come back, they needed to get to the nearby coastline by foot, as the sound of the car can attract attention this late at night, at a quiet place like this.

The smell of the incoming rain was obvious to her, the moment they stepped out of the hospital, they needed to get to the boat before the rain falls. There were 5 soldiers, and the boat can only carry 5 people, which meant two should stay ashore, and leave in another way.

"I will see you at Bordeaux, give her to the Admiral as instructed..." she says, referring to her grandfather, as she instructs the soldiers and they respond with a nod. She trusted them enough to carry their duty. Moreover, it wasn't the first time working with the SAS.

She watched as the boat left the shore, and turned away once she can no longer see them in the distance.

Turning her attention back to the soldier who stayed behind with her, she realized that it was the same person who first entered the room earlier and passed her a gun. Though she could not see his face like the rest of them, it was his aura that separates him from his team. He seemed like a very seasoned soldier and she wouldn't be surprised if he was, as her guest and observations were often right.

"Thank you for staying behind, I do not know if you have a plan B, but I'll take care of us here, from now on. And we'll be back in London before you know it!" she tries to convince him, but he did not respond and just stared at her. She sighed in resignation and asks him to follow her, as the rain began to fall.

Not far from the hospital was a small cabin she had rented as her temporary quarters.

"Come in..." She opens the door and holds it open for him.

The moment they entered the house, he was met with countless papers, photographs, stuck on a corkboard, and a few, small spy tech, including a laptop. The rest, was just a small kitchen, a small fireplace, bathroom, a queen-size bed, and a small couch, nothing more, nothing less. The small house looked like an operational briefing room, instead of living quarters.

"I'm sorry about the mess, I'll burn them once we leave, go make yourself at home. You must be tired so you can take my bed and I won't mind it, I'll sleep on the couch" she uttered mindlessly, as she started packing some of the equipment for more space. "Besides, I need to forge a few papers here and there to get us out of here, I'll buy you new clothes tomorrow too," she adds, turning towards him, still without a response.

"So, uhh... I don't plan on seeing you in the raw, so... just cover yourself up with a blanket" she sighed, though she meant well, not wanting him to stay in his damp clothes, she felt sorry for the guy. He probably thinks she's a weird pervert now for saying that carelessly. "Sorry, I came unprepared for this part. I didn't know it will rain..." she reasons.

The man finally sits down on the couch and makes himself comfortable, and began slowly dismantling his rifle.

She heaved another sigh, before remembering the gun he has handed her earlier on. "Ah yes, I almost forgot, here's your gun, I-" she paused for a moment and disarmed it, removing the silencer and the bullets and then she felt a certain texture on one side of the gun and saw an engraved quote;

'This is a tool, I am the weapon'

There was no mistake, this was her gun that the agency confiscated before she left for her 2 weeks leave. How did a special ops soldier end up having it?

She looked at him confused. "H-How did you?"

The man's answer was silence and then he took off his night visions goggles and his mask, only to reveal Kieran, underneath the camo.

"Shit..." she muttered under her breath, as alarms started ringing inside her head. This operation was unsanctioned, to begin with, and the only way she was able to carry it was by using her and her father's money, forging signatures for approval and unprofessionally using the companies resources to carry out the rest, which she knew she had distorted the evidence so that they will not find out.

"How... how did you-?" she was lost for words.

"You made a small blunder... that's how I found out..." he says sternly, as he slowly approached her, his expression was cold. She knew what was coming. He was going to kill her in cold blood. It didn't matter if she was his prodigy and that they've been colleagues for a decade, or that he was fond of her. Kieran was first and always a cold-blooded assassin/operative, even before he became the division head. She heard the stories, and she witnessed how cold and cruel he could be. Nor does he take betrayal well. And this unsanctioned operation is considered betrayal in the agency's eyes, and his. And what happens when one commits 'insubordination? if lucky they can get away with getting court-martialed if not, they are 'neutralized'.

Unfortunately, she will be getting the latter.

But she didn't want to die. She wanted to reunite with her family, to finally be there for Helene, after years apart. To finally mourn her mother properly. She didn't want her family to have another person to mourn for. She wants to live, and she will fight to live.

Wasting no time, she throws the gun at his face, as she didn't have enough time to re-assemble everything.

"Fuck..." Kieran cursed under his breath when the heavy metal hits his chests and was followed by the silencer before she made a run for it outside.

*****

The backwoods was dark, and she almost tumbled down, running. Especially now that it rained heavily, the place was slippery. This setback was certainly something she didn't expect. She needed to gather her thoughts and think of a plan C. She did remember that she had kept backup 'necessities' in a locker at the port. She just needed to get there safely and get Kieron off her trail.

However, before she could make her next move. A pair of strong arms wrap around her waist, swung her to his shoulders, and then throws her back down into the ground.

"That's for earlier..." Kieran mentions as he circled around her.

"This is not fair, I thought you were a gentleman!" she says, in spite of the situation.

"I am... I haven't injured you yet, haven't I?" was his playful remark. "Get up!"

She struggled to get up and glared at him. " You think this is a game?"

"And you thought I wasn't serious when I warned you? Remember, every action has a consequence and this is yours..."

She finally gets up and rushes forward to attack him. He immediately blocks her fist, but she kicks his knees, breaking his stance.

He quickly recovers and prepares for an attack, but she had jumped at him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and using the force of her momentum to throw him back down to the ground. She quickly grabs his back leg and twists it.

Quickly wrapping her legs around his, she cranks it the wrong way, pulling it forward, hyperextending it, in an attempt to dislocate and cripple him.

He screams in pain, as she put him into a kneebar submission. However, he quickly counters her move by kicking the back of her knee with his free leg and freeing his other leg out in the process.

Unable to continue the kneebar, Kieron immediately grapples with her once he was free. But she was too quick and got away quickly.

"Not bad..." he laughs.

She tried to catch her breath and glared back at him. She rather escapes than prolong this fight. Fighting against a veteran like Kieron is futile. However, before she could make a run for it, he moves forwards and quickly strikes her in the gut, causing her to lose air and then consciousness.

**********

It was 4 am according to her clock when she gained consciousness once again and found herself with her arms tied up to the bedpost.

The only thing that serves light in the room was the small fireplace, and Kieron was in front of it smoking a cigarette, with nothing but a blanket on, wrapped around his waist.

If this was any other situation, this was a wet dream come true. She had always been curious about the body underneath those sharp custom made, Saville-Row suits and smart apparel he wore to work. He was like those silver fox models that were displayed in GQ and not once did she see him undone and raw like this. Heck, he looked good even when doing violent interrogations.

His body was muscularly lean and well-toned, with scars here and there. In short words, he's damn hot.

She sighs and takes in the sight before her. It was probably the last thing she would see and remember him for before he ends her life.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

"Put a shirt on... you're ugly..." was her rude response.

He laughs out loud and stares at her.

"Just kill me..." she pleads. She was not willing to go through torture and interrogation, and she knew that was coming next.

He gets up and seats down on the side of the bed. "But I'm not done with you yet...." he whispers.

" We can be done in a minute, I will tell you everything. I admit to it. I forged all your signatures for approval, used the agencies resources to gather information and used my own savings to fund this operation. That is all... now... do what you have to do..." she says in resignation. "And do it quick, I don't want it to be painful" she adds.

He takes out a knife and she closes her eyes shut, preparing for what's next. However, to her surprise, Kieran cuts of the rope binding her arms instead, before walking away and sitting back down in front of the fireplace.

"Kieron..." she calls his name whilst rubbing the lacerations on her wrist.

"You're a fool, you know?... I've advised you many times to not do this..."

"The agency will..." she began but he quickly cut her off.

"They're not aware, I've cleaned it up for you..." was his simple response.

"Why-why? you said...-"

"I'm not that heartless that you and others make me out to be..." he says nonchalantly, waving it off. "You're not trained as a covert agent... do you know how worried I was when I found out?"

"Who are you to care? we're nothing but colleagues and your nothing but the heartless department director who wants results! I am well aware that I am just your pawn!" She shook her head. Kieron Sorenson was too cold to even care. " Please save me the pretence..."

He glares back at her and gets back up to approach her. Closing in the distance like a predatory animal and she was his prey.

"Kieron... I-" before she could say anything, he crushed his mouth against hers and much to his surprise, she did not protest or struggle and welcomed it wholeheartedly. Returning the kiss with equal intensity.

He tried in vain to slow down and pull away for them to catch their breath. Only to find her looking back at him with longing eyes.

"Since when?" she asked. Of course, she was confused by this sudden 'confession'. She may admit that she does have a secret crush on the cold-blooded director. But not once did she expect that he had affection for her too.

"The museum..." he whispers huskily, referring to the time he had welcomed her to the agency. She looked so beautiful that day, her head held high, upon proving how wrong he was about her, as she sat beside him in front of the painting. " I wanted to kiss that witty mouth of yours... but that's just unprofessional..."

"You're being unprofessional now..." she remarks.

"I don't give a damn..." he says and tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear.

A/N: I think I might have made some grammatical errors. So I'd do soft editing. I'll write Part 2 (SMUT!!!) next after this.

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self-ships-ahoy · 4 years ago

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My Heart in Your Hands

Saturday (Feb 13th) Heart / Soul / Confession

Summary: During the events of Mann vs. Machine, Technician faces her greatest fear for the good of her friends - and the love of her life.

Warnings: General depictions of surgery (nothing too graphic, but there is a lot of talk about Tech’s heart in the second half)

Word Count: 1,307

A/N: Ok...I am very very nervous about posting this fic. I had to scramble to find a good reason for Tech to have this surgery done (i.e. if lives were on the line), and I’m just always nervous when presenting my writings with Medic. I have seen quite a few people be critical about his depictions, if he’s ‘in character’ enough, and I was afraid of being met with that kind of criticism. But writing is supposed to be for fun, and IF I’m a little ooc with him, so what? I put a whole lot into this fic, and you’re going to really see the extent of their feelings, so I’m proud of it. (Also, about the end, I am totally one to use wordplay even if I’m just coming out of anesthesia, so yeah Tech is like that too.)

~ 💖 ~

For as long as she could remember, Technician's greatest fear and weakness had been anything related to medical procedures. From the smell of a sterilized office to the mere sight of a needle, it all made her anxious at best and panic-stricken at worst. Everyone at the RED base knew this, since they heard how she ‘freaked out’ during her initial physical examination. Fortunately, although her phobias still remain, her reactions have started to become less severe over time, thanks in big part to her relationship with Medic. Forming a friendship, and later a romantic affair, with him helped her tolerance to her fear triggers greatly. Her desire to see him had her visiting the medbay often, where she soon became accustomed to many sights and smells of the lab. The doctor remained supportive of Technician working to overcome her fears, and he took an active role in the process. Still, Katie had a long way to go, and he knew that. He knew, by now, what kind of answer he would get to a proposed surgery, even though he only offered what was for her benefit. "It's very sweet that you care that much, but it's just not worth it to me." So, he would sigh in defeat and drop the subject, loving her too much to breach the boundaries she set.

This pattern continued until 1971. Mann Co. was under siege by Grey Mann, effectively taking control from Saxton Hale with an army of robots. Both Red and Blu teams were hired to take back the company, so far with little avail. It all seemed pointless to Technician, at first, if not fortunate; this could be her ticket out of here, if she could convince Grey to fire her. Then the game changed. In an effort to drive the mercs away for good, Grey's forces managed to sabotage and shut down respawn - for good. Now, they could actually die. After so many years of being alone, Katie couldn't bear the thought of losing her friends. With Medic's new reviving invention still a work in progress, that thought could become a reality. She would do anything to keep them safe, even just to increase that chance by a fraction of a percentage. This was what she came to talk to Medic about, one quiet afternoon at the base.

The two of them sat on the couch in his office. The programmer remained silent, a hesitant and apprehensive frown on her face. She had yet to reveal why she called Medic here, and the longer she waited, the more concerned he became. However, his patience was finite, and spending the whole day on this conversation could be time otherwise spent working on his invention. "Darling," he addressed her gently, but with seriousness, "Vhatever is troubling you, don't be afraid to tell me about it; I cannot help you if you don't tell me...nor do I have time to vait much longer."

Technician's chest tightened, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment. She couldn't wait forever. Sighing nervously, she began, "...I need you to...do something for me."

"Anything," he answered without question.

Another short pause. "I'm scared. I really think we could die out there..." She held his hand for support. "I can't lose you, Ludwig. You're the most important person in my life...and you're all my friends... You're the closest thing I have to family. So, I want to do whatever I can to help protect you."

"...Vhat are you saying?"

"...I want you to put Über in me."

Medic couldn't believe what he heard. Technician seemed to have a knack for surprising him, but, understandably, this was a big deal. Thus far, she had refused every surgery offer presented to her, and now she comes to him and requests one? The man was no reader of emotions, but judging from the tension on her face, and how she squeezed his hand, it didn't seem like she was completely positive of the decision. Excited as he felt, he had to make sure they were on the same page, or he could lose her trust in him forever. "You are...absolutely sure of zhis?"

Technician went quiet again before answering. "I don't know. But...I want to be. I don't want to be afraid of this, especially if it could help you stay alive. With how often I've fallen onto front lines, it could even protect me, too. But..."

"If it's pain you're concerned about, I promise zhe pain medications I use, in addition to zhe medigun, vill decrease anything you feel down to manageable levels." He couldn't help but try to convince her to go through with it. Despite her indecision, he agreed with her points that supported the procedure; this could protect her and her friends, should she fall into danger. "You won't even need stitches," he added with a small smile.

He was getting excited, she could hear it in his voice. Technician expected as much, but she had to finish. "It's not just about the pain. I just...I don't like operations, I never did. You know that... And...I wanted to make sure I could...trust you with it. And I do, now. It's just...hard."

Medic's smile grew when he heard that he finally earned Technician's trust. That alone made him feel so accomplished. "I promise you, I vill handle zhe procedure vis as much care as I handle our fledgling doves. You have my word as a doctor - license or no." He tilted his head down to further meet her gaze. "Does zhat ease any of your fear?"

"...Yeah. It does."

~~~

On the day of the operation, Technician's friends all came to give their support. She was facing a great challenge for the good of the team, and for her own safety, a decision that they all could commend. Soldier told her she was making her country proud by pushing through the fear; Scout brought her some comic books to read for when she's in recovery; Sniper and Engineer pledged to stay by her bedside when she goes under and when she wakes up; even Spy said he would anticipate hearing her wake from a successful operation. Their faith and encouragement helped Technician move forward with this, and she kept their words and gestures in mind when nervously changing into her special hospital gown. Above all, she remembered all Medic promised to do for her, to keep her as comfortable as possible.

Placing her jewelry in a plastic bag, her thumb brushed over the heart-shaped pendant of her necklace. That was a prized possession now, a symbol of how much she was cherished. As she stared at it, her mind began retracing every instance of Ludwig prioritizing her happiness. This...this was a man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. And why: because she knew she could entrust him with her very life, even on the operating table. She knew that if she asked him to do or not do something, he would take that request seriously. She's going to go into the operating room with full confidence that Medic will do nothing more than implant the Über device in a human heart. That was true love.

Technician made her way to the hospital bed, and squeezed Dell's hand as the I.V. went in her wrist. As she settled down from that, Medic gleefully presented his patient with precautions he doesn't usually take during surgery, such as a clean pair of gloves and keeping Archimedes at a distance, so the dove doesn't get tempted to play assistant surgeon. In the time between now and the first Über implantation, Medic had even been experimenting with his invention to make it more efficient, i.e. less likely to overload the patient's heart and what not. There was a good chance that Technician could come out of this with her original heart in tact.

At last, the time came for her to be put under anesthesia, per her request. Katie kept her eyes away from the sight, but listened to Medic's voice as she slipped into unconsciousness. "You'll be awake and feeling good as new in no time, my dear. Don't worry..." he told her calmly as he watched her drift off. Engineer and Sniper then left the room, and the procedure began.

Everything was running well. Throughout the procedure, Medic talked to his patient as if she was awake, from making light (one-sided) conversation to commenting on each step he was taking. (He said she had very healthy ribs, for instance.) At last, Technician's heart was successfully removed and resting in the doctor's delicate hold. He was being timely about each step so far, never stalling or rushing; but here was when he began to pause, staring at his love's heart while the medigun kept her on life support. The power he felt was indescribable, surmounted only by the honor of being granted the chance to literally hold Katie's very life in his hands. He, too, understood the significance of being allowed to perform this surgery on her, the amount of trust it showed she had in him. There was excitement from finally getting to operate, yes, but...it had yet to truly sink in until this moment.

As he cradled the tiny, life-giving muscle, a euphoria began to overtake him. This was more than just the thrill of practicing medicine; this was finally realizing the meaning of his beloved not only allowing, but asking without prompt, to partake in her greatest fear. The love she had for him was stronger than her fear and doubt, for she realized that he would never hurt her. And for all the love he felt for her, and how much closer he would feel to her if given the chance to do this, hearing her finally approve was his strongest wish. Ludwig was already sure he had found The One, but now - oh, now he was 100% positive and then some. His breathing cut short a couple times as his eyes began to well up. But, instead of crying, he began to laugh - slowly, quietly, then rising in strength with his elation. It was a laugh of pure joy, unlike anything else ever heard in the operating room.

~~~

Awaking from the anesthesia was a slightly difficult task, only due to Technician's penchant for prolonging sleep. With the pain medication still in her system, she had almost forgotten for a moment that she had underwent surgery. But a growing echo of voices helped pull her out of her induced slumber.

"I think she's comin' to, doc. Hey, Tech, can ya hear us?"

"Come on, mate..."

"Vake up, meine geliebte~. Zhe surgery is all over now."

The sing-song tones of Medic's call lured her out of her sleeping state, and cerulean eyes fluttered open to the sight of the doctor's beaming smile. To her left, Engineer and Sniper sat with their own happy expressions. Technician turned her gaze back to Medic, attempting to speak through her haze. "Did...everything..."

"Everything vent perfectly, darling, visout a hitch." Medic answered her, "I hadn't completed a procedure zhat smoothly in years, heh." In truth, there had been one or two slight deviations in the plan - minor errors that he was able to work around, and certainly not worth mentioning to the tomophobic programmer. That being said, it was still one of Medic's more successful operations. "How do you feel?"

She thought for a moment, hesitant to feel her heart in case she might feel the Über implant. "Strange...Tired... Chest feels tight. Is my heart okay?"

Engineer spoke up with more words of reassurance, "Heart's a-OK, Techie. Doc said it survived the whole thing, no transplants 'r anything like that."

"It vas remarkable to witness," Medic commented with glee, "For a heart of such small size, I vas expecting more resistance to zhe device. My upgrades must have made an even greater improvement zhan anticipated!"

The corners of her lips began to curl as she heard the great news. Above all, she was worried about her heart needing to be replaced with something bizarre for the device to work. But, the doctor fulfilled his promises and kept her heart intact...as did another force unbeknownst to her. Should someone tell her of it, she would show no surprise at the fact.

Facing Medic again, Technician inched her hand closer to him, a kind look in her sleepy eyes. "I knew you could do it... I was in good hands."

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starring-movies · 4 years ago

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Killing Eve: Episode Analysis

*SPOILERS*

Season 3, Episode 1 - Slowly Slowly Catchy Monkey

The first episode of Season 3 begins about 6 months after the events in Rome, from the end of the last season, and starts with Villanelle getting married to a woman named Maria - now Villanelle doesn’t have a job, she needs a way to support herself financially so she does this via Maria.

During her wedding speech, Villanelle refers to Eve as “my ex”. In S2E1 when she was speaking to Gabriel in the hospital, she also referred to Eve as “my girlfriend”. Both of these instances show us how Villanelle has considered that she and Eve were in a ‘relationship’ of some sort for all this time.

When Villanelle finds that Dasha has turned up to her “special day”, the same shots are repeated from S2E3. Villanelle runs up to Dasha and then tackles her to the ground, which is shot in the same way as when Villanelle runs up to Konstantin and then hugs him in S2E3. The choice to repeat the same shots is implemented to emphasise the difference in Villanelle’s relationship with Konstantin and Dasha (both people who had a big impact on Villanele while she was growing up) - after being separated from Konstantin, Villanelle fondly hugs him; but after being apart from Dasha for so long, Villanelle feels nothing but anger towards her.

When Villanelle is reunited with Dasha, after Dasha crashed Villanelle’s wedding, she keeps calling Villanelle “Oksana” and so Villanelle tells her “you call me, Villanelle”. This is small but clever little detail. Through just this act of Dasha calling Villanelle the wrong name, we are told that Dasha, like Anna, (who also calls her Oksana) is obviously someone who Villanelle knew a long time ago in her past, before she adopted the name ‘Villanelle’.

We are then reintroduced to Eve, who is doing her shopping in a Korean supermarket in New Malden, London. Not only is Eve buying junk food to stress eat, like she did with the sweets in S2E1, but the convenience food also has a deeper significance. When Eve was with Niko he was always the one who cooked, but now that they’ve separated, Eve doesn’t have anyone to cook for her, so she has to buy things like instant noodles because her lifestyle has changed.

While Eve is paying for her groceries, the woman at the checkout of the Korean supermarket is having a conversation with her friend, where she says “nothing says Romance like Rome” and that she wants to eat “spaghetti” the whole time she’s there. “Spaghetti” is what Eve told Villanelle she’d like her to cook for dinner in S2E8, and the comment that “nothing says Romance like Rome” could have been true for Villanelle and Eve, but for them Rome means tragedy and heartbreak instead.

We also find out that Eve has taken a job in a Korean restaurant. She’s decided to recoil back into the comfort of her culture, where people speak her mother language and eat food that she’s familiar with (and probably associates with home and family). In the restaurant her job is making the dumplings, which is a repetitive, mindless task, just like when we saw Eve chopping the vegetables for the roast chicken in S2E1.

Eve copes with her trauma in the same way as she did in S2E1, after she shot Villanelle. Not only does she do the repetitive tasks, but she also watches “It’s Not Just Shopping”, which is a teleshopping programme, just like how she listened to Armando trying (and succeeding) to sell her some “really expensive windows”.

However, although she is coping with the two situations in the same way, there is also a big difference between the Eve we see in the beginning of Season 2, and the Eve we see in the beginning of Season 3. In Season 2 Eve allowed herself, and was eager, to be sucked back into chasing after Villanelle when Carolyn recruited her again; whereas in Season 3, Eve is stronger and has a certain defiance in her actions. In Season 3 Eve tells her boss she doesn’t want to work in the front of the restaurant, but wants to remain in the kitchen, even though that means less money and more work. Eve also tells Carolyn, when she comes to see her at the restaurant, that she has no interest in Villanelle and trying to find her again, and it is only to investigate Kenny’s death that she decides to return to working with her.

In the office of the boss of the Korean restaurant, a Korean programme where a man gets shot in the head by a woman in playing on the TV behind her. When Eve is on the bus, there is also someone reading a book called “Vixen’s Bite”, with a woman with a gun on the front cover - Eve cannot seem to escape being reminded of Villanelle and of being shot by her.

We are then reintroduced to Kenny, at his new job being an investigative journalist at the ‘Bitter Pill’. Kenny has a conversation with Bear, where he says “well, remind me not to rely on you for anything”; which turns out not to be true, as in S3E8 Bear is the one who finds out Konstantin came to visit Kenny on the day he died.

When Eve is at home, she sends a message to Kenny of a picture of a loo roll. This is a call back to S1E2 when Kenny shows Eve to the toilets at the Trafalgar Office and tells her “it’s best that you bring in your own [loo roll] or it just disappears, how many sheets do you need?”.

After receiving Eve’s message, Kenny goes over to Eve’s apartment and during their conversation he asks her “are you still in touch with, er...” (meaning Niko), and Eve immediately thought Kenny was referring to Villanelle. Eve’s trying to convince herself (and everyone else) that she’s over Villanelle, not interested in her and not thinking about her; but the fact that Eve immediately jumps to thinking that Kenny is referring to Villanelle, and not her husband, shows that this is definitely not the case.

In this scene, she is also wearing the grey T-shirt with birds on it that belonged to Niko, he is seen wearing it in S1E1. However, we only see Eve wearing it when she wants comfort; like after Bill’s death in S1E4, and now in this episode when she’s recovering from what happened to her in Rome.

Later on, when Eve goes to visit Niko at the psychiatric facility, she brings him a bag of fruit pastels, but tells him that she already “ate the green ones for you”. Although Eve probably did this as a caring gesture (since Eve ate them, it’s implied Niko doesn’t like the green ones), it emphasises how Niko still can’t manage to gain control over his own life. Niko wasn’t given the opportunity to try the “green ones” (he may have changed his mind and started to like them) or leave them in the bag himself, Eve had already made the executive decision for him and he wasn’t given the choice to eat the bag of sweets how he wanted to eat them.

Eve eating the green fruit pastels for Niko could also be an indication that this was something that she used to do for him when they were first married/more happily married. If you take this view, then it could be that Eve is trying to simulate how things were previously, or she is being presumptuous that Niko wants things to go back to how they were - but he goes to Poland without telling Eve, so we can see he wants a new start.

Whilst working in the Korean restaurant’s kitchen, there are two men working behind Eve, who’s conversation mirrors Eve’s relationship with Villanelle. One of the men initially says to the other man, “first it was infatuation, this is love”. This definitely reflects how Villanelle’s relationship with Eve was portrayed; it began as Villanelle’s obsession with Eve because she had hair like Anna, but by the end of Season 2 she claims that it has gone beyond “infatuation” and that she does truly love Eve. This was probably also true for Eve, also beginning as an “infatuation” in Villanelle because she is an assassin, but then developing into a deeper sense of love; but at the end of Season 2, Eve was not ready to come to terms with her feelings, and Villanelle hadn’t reached the point of realising what loving Eve really is.

The next time the two men are having a conversation, Eve interjects by telling the man “you’re not even crying because of her, you’re crying because... because you feel stupid, because you were stupid”. This is obviously how Eve feels about what happened with her and Villanelle - she’s not upset because of Villanelle necessarily, but more because she feels that she was stupid. The same thing most likely applies to Villanelle as well, she probably feels stupid for loving Eve, and admitting to loving Eve, when she thought that she was someone “special”.

You can read my previous Killing Eve posts here:-

First Introduction to Villanelle

First Introduction to Eve

S1, E1 - Nice Face

S1, E2 - I’ll Deal With Him Later

S1, E3 - Don’t I Know You?

S1, E4 - Sorry Baby

S1, E5 - I Have a Thing about Bathrooms

S1, E6 - Take Me to the Hole!

S1, E7 - I Don’t Want to Be Free

S1, E8 - God, I’m Tired

S2, E1 - Do You Know How to Dispose of a Body?

S2, E2 - Nice and Neat

S2, E3 - The Hungry Caterpillar

S2, E4 - Desperate Times

S2, E5 - Smell Ya Later

S2, E6 - I Hope You Like Missionary!

S2, E7 - Wide Awake

S2, E8 - You’re Mine

S3, E2 - Management Sucks

S3, E3 - Meetings Have Biscuits

S3, E4 - Still Got It

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 1]

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 2]

S3, E6 - End of Game

S3, E7 - Beautiful Monster

S3, E8 - Are You Leading or Am I? [Part 1]

——————————————————————————

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firewoodfigs · 4 years ago

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(long post, but I’m gonna try and make journalling a thing in 2021 😆)

The first day of the new year was nice. :) I woke up to the sounds of rain crashing against my windowsills - a strangely chilly morning in this tropical country where it’s summer all year round. For a moment it felt like I was back in Canada again, all cloudy grey skies and whimsical rain - the perfect weather for introspection.

I started my day with a pot of hot green tea, then settled down by my reading lamp to finish a book that I’ve been putting off for far too long - Steinbeck’s East of Eden. I only had about forty pages left, but somehow couldn’t bring myself to finish it. I hate when books end because it feels like that little world I’ve created and compartmentalised in my head has likewise ceased, but the good thing about books is that you can always re-read them and immerse yourself in the same fantasy. (Maybe even a different one, if the same words lend themselves to a different interpretation!) But it truly was an absolute masterpiece: such a stunning, intricate exploration of humanity that tugged at my heartstrings and led me into still waters of reflection. I know that I will definitely carry this tale in my heart for a long, long time to come.

Afterwards, I had some instant ramen while watching The Queen’s Gambit. I’m not a big fan of watching shows usually because I often feel like they move too slowly or tend to miss details from the book, but this one is pretty exceptional. Like, the acting and the artistic direction are incredible - the constant juxtaposition between Beth’s traumatic past and her glorified present, and the exploration of the fallibility of genius were executed so brilliantly. Another thing that really stood out to me were the scenes where she’d hole herself in the toilet and rebuke herself aloud for weaknesses in her play and/or being weak, in general. I cannot begin to explain how many times I’ve done that to myself in law school for even the most trivial of infractions, the most minor of errors - Lord knows I’m my harshest critic.

I promised to try, however, to be a little bit kinder to myself in 2021. My perfectionism tends to be a bar to goodness and growth because sometimes I get so afraid that my subconscious keeps demanding that my first draft has to be perfect. But it really doesn’t. That’s what editing is for. And writing, like any other talents and passions, requires nurturing and constant practice. I saw a quote yesterday about how we cannot just sit around and magically expect to be Faulkners overnight, and that is so true. I definitely need to find a sweet spot where I’m not berating myself to the point of giving up, but still demand growth so that I can keep bettering myself.

In the evening I headed out to a friend’s for tacos, which were an absolute delight in itself. And then my bf and I got to walk his dog, who I am convinced is the most precious thing in the entire universe - maybe even more so than my bf himself (I kid... or maybe not) - and who is just such a gentle-natured darling. It began to drizzle, so she led us home and we spent the rest of the night playing Sherlock and Among Us with the rest. :) It was a very peaceful evening. For a moment I’d forgotten all about the fact that I start work next Monday and was simply content to bask in the Christmas lights, the heavy downpour and the anomalous chill that came along with it. Just... living in the present, enjoying the moment.

Now that’s definitely something else on my to-do list for 2020 as well. So often the beauty of the present tends to be marred by my worries and anxieties of the future, but I always remind myself of this quote from Scripture: “Which one of you, by worrying, can add another day to his life?” And when I look back at my life and all the times I’ve worried and fretted and cried, feeling like there was no way for us to extricate ourselves from this rut, this perennial cycle of debt and other things that have plagued me from birth, I am also reminded of God’s grace and providence that has brought me through so, so much. It would’ve been impossible to have done all of this by myself; I frankly might not have had the will to continue living if not for those things.

Talking about my lived experiences also ties in to the last part of my day - where I thought about how exclusive and inaccessible the poetry scene here feels. You would think otherwise, in a country of no more than 5-6 million folks, but no. I was ranting about this a little to my boyfriend: how it feels like a lot of the spaces within are reserved for the elites of society with silver spoons in their mouths and golden plates on their tables offering them anything they wanted while I was struggling to put food on the table at fourteen. Sometimes I also lament the fact that I didn’t have my parents to tell me bedtime stories, to encourage me to read and cultivate my vocabulary. Perhaps it’s jealousy, or inferiority, or a mix of both.

But my boyfriend, ever wise and supportive, offered me a different perspective. He made a fair point about how I still fell in love with books and writing regardless, and how literature is oftentimes only a harbour that the privileged visit because the marginalised, the poor are too busy working for basic necessities to even think about such things. To the ordinary blue-collar layperson, poetry is just frankly a frivolous sentiment that won’t turn itself into gold. I agree with this wholeheartedly. It’s one of the reasons why I always felt like I didn’t have time to write, and one of the reasons why my first job was at a library (so I could read as much as I wanted! For free!). Then he said, “But see, no one wants to read about the rich waxing poetic about how lovely and grand their sunny little island is. But people will want to read about your perspective - your poems of the brokenhearted clinging on desperately to their inner child, your poems about the poor working to make ends’ meet, your poems about your tangible struggles - all of those will resonate with the masses, for sure.” And I was like, well, that’s fair. But I certainly don’t express myself as eloquently as these people do. Next to them I’m like an uncultured swine who can’t even tell the difference between all the different forks splayed on the table.

His response was that people need to understand these things before appreciating them, and sometimes simplicity works best - a lesson that’s been drilled into us from the very inception of law school. And I was like, okay, fair, but deep down my heart was exploding with the sheer warmth of having someone so incredibly supportive of everything I do, even if it’s worthless in society’s eyes. I remember one night when I was telling him about how, as a twelve-year-old, I had a dream to one day study Literature at Yale. I would hole myself up in the library after school, feverishly flipping through books to expand my imaginations and horizons, my mental dictionary of words, dreaming about the day where I could escape all of this and dwell in nothing but imaginative worlds one day. Where reality failed me, I knew that I could always count on my imagination to transport me to somewhere safe and special, filled with joy and sorrow and tragedy and hope.

I ended up studying law. Not a bad thing, because as stressful as it was I really did enjoy the things I’ve learnt - international and constitutional law, especially - and it has certainly given me new, mature perspectives on so many things; taught me to argue with reason and objectivity instead of just emotion and passion and has led me to meet so many wonderful (also trashy, but I’m out of this hellhole) people. I just don’t like the fact that 80-hour work weeks are the norm and that there’s always so much to... read. If you gave me a piece of fiction I could happily indulge in it for hours, but sometimes judgments can be so ridiculously mundane to read, especially if they’re just itemising every single case on illegality from the 19th century. Lord knows I need at least two cups of coffee for that. Black, to be specific.

Anyway, I digress (as I always do lmao). My bf ended up researching all night until he stumbled across this Literature programme at Harvard - which frankly sounds amazing, but also unattainable. Which was what I said. And he was like, “Do I think it’s impossible? No. I think you have a very compelling life story, and you’re full of amazing stories within you to tell. And if you want to do it, I will support you wholeheartedly.”

Again, as is usually the case, I had nothing left to offer apart from muted sobs under my blanket. It still sounds absurd to me - unthinkable, even - but I am just so, so grateful to have someone like him support me through everything. Literally everything. This is the man who has spent hours tutoring me in the subjects that I was hopeless in in first year, because I was too busy tutoring random folks in economics and geography and catching up on sleep (in class, no less), who has patiently helped me prepare for every single mooting competition and watched every single one of them, who has seen me cry and admonish myself for being a failure (only to spend hours trying to convince me otherwise), who has celebrated every single one of my victories and losses - you deserve a treat, anyway! Let’s go eat something nice and put it behind us, for now! This is the same man who has so much passion for what he does, who is so darn good at it without even realising that he is (I wept when he won a mooting competition this year because I was so proud of and happy for him), and who inspires confidence and compassion in me every day.

I am grateful to share all our triumphs and tribulations together, and I look forward to starting a new chapter in life with you. :)

#this was a very long shitpost but if u made it to the end kudos to u!!! HAHAHAHA #also a rainy morning again so I am in the mood to ramble oops :')#might have spiralled outta control hehe #sorry to any1 who follows me for fma content LMAO #haven't been posting much fma content but I promise there is smt coming this weekend #maybe a new update of memento amare...#me being all dramatic: IT IS FINISHED *presses enter key with a flourish*

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xxx-cat-xxx · 5 years ago

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ghosts

Here are some post-Civil War team feelings and a bit of whump. Thanks to @whumphoarder for beta reading ❤

__________________________

Sometimes, Tony remembers.

Tonight he lies awake in his bed after Rhodey forced him out of the workshop at 3am, away from the prototype for his leg braces. Tony didn’t put up a fight because the guilt was still fresh and sharp and seeing his best friend navigate his wheelchair through the messy workshop was making him pliant, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be able to rest.

Sleep evades him, but the memories are there. Pepper, every night, making his heart ache in rhythm with his fractured sternum. His parents, dead in the car with smoke still rising from the broken engine. Siberia and the wormhole and Rhodey dropping out of the sky, falling and falling and falling until Tony’s body hits the mattress and he opens his eyes with a gasp.

And then there’s the team. Sometimes, the ghosts come back to keep him company.

The plan was for Natasha to infiltrate an NSA division suspected to be running an undercover espionage programme with illegally obtained citizens’ data. She was supposed to go in, disguised with a photostatic veil as the lead technology officer, copy the evidence, and leave after the shift was over. Tony and Steve would be waiting outside with her ride home, ready to interfere in case something went wrong.

Which it did, because, unbeknownst to their intel and definitely against the rules of the department she worked for, said technology officer was having an affair with one of her colleagues, who’d realised something was off when she tried to slide her hand into Nat’s pants in a storage room and in turn got punched in the face.

Nat was held, drugged, and interrogated. She didn’t spill, of course. Her cover didn’t get blown until half a day later, when Tony and Steve burst through the door to rescue her. She even managed to transfer enough of the evidence to Tony’s servers to build a solid case against the NSA division before she got blasted, so from that perspective, the mission was a success.

A success that came with a price, however, Tony thought as he leaned back in the pilot seat, having just maneuvered them out of the danger zone. The adrenaline was fading away to leave behind exhaustion and a pulsing pain in his hand.

“Not again...” he muttered as he carefully removed the armour on his right arm to reveal a swollen, possibly broken wrist. He’d had to retract his gauntlet to open the digitally coded lock to the facility and he’d paid the price for forgetting to put it back on five minutes later when an overzealous security guard kicked him in the arm. He should really look into cloning again—an extra arm would definitely come in handy.

Behind him, Nat was throwing up into a basin, so quietly and efficiently that it almost looked like she was in control of what was happening. She was pale and sweaty, the stuff they’d drugged her with clearly not agreeing with her system. But the real sign she was still a bit out of it was that she didn’t protest at all when Steve sat close beside her and placed a hand on her back while she heaved.

“Don’t redecorate my quinjet, Romanov,” Tony said flippantly, swiverling his chair around. “I just finally got the blood out of the upholstery from your run-in with the Frankfurt cartel.”

Still retching into the bowl, Nat flipped him off without even looking up. Tony noticed she was trembling slightly.

He got up and moved over to the lockers, limping a bit―(when did that happen?)―as he went, and fetched the threadbare blanket Bruce used to wrap around himself after de-hulking. Steve bit his lip when Tony draped the tattered thing over Nat’s shoulders and he knew they were all thinking the same thing.

The absence of Bruce and Clint was almost tangible. Steve tended to be the one to get their spirits up before the missions, and Tony would chatter continuously during the fight, but afterwards it had usually been Clint who’d take care of them all in his own, inscrutable way. He was especially good at building the team up again after things went wrong, taking the blame off each of their individual shoulders and distributing it evenly across all of them.

“Not your fault, Cap. Can’t save ‘em all,” he’d remind the soldier after a particularly rough mission. Or he’d thrust a jammed weapon into Tony’s hands and tell him to stop brooding and make himself useful. “Don’t give me that emo look,” he’d tell Nat whenever she was sulking. “We talked about this.” And nobody would ever know what it was that the two had talked about, but a bit of tension would fall off her shoulders.

Tony wonders, sometimes, whether they’d instinctively known that Bruce’s departure and Clint’s retirement would mark the beginning of the end of the Avengers. Whether somewhere deep inside, all of them were counting the days they had left.

“What happened to your wrist?” Steve broke the silence.

“He frac’ured it again,” Nat said hoarsely, slurring her words just a little. “Will never learn to put that glove back on.”

Tony laughed.

Their first stop was at the compound’s medical bay where they were told that Nat couldn’t do anything more than sleep off the effects of the drug and make sure to stay hydrated. Tony’s wrist, to everyone’s surprise, was only badly sprained this time, and they let him go after bandaging it.

He was starting to feel the effects of the fight by then, the beginning soreness of his muscles and annoying pain from all his bruises. Exhaustion was clinging heavily to his limbs; he hadn’t slept the previous night, busy going through the intel and testing the comms to make sure the mission would be successful before leaving at daybreak.

Nat also looked like she could use a bed, unsteady on her feet and even less talkative than usual, but there was a silent understanding between Steve and Tony not to leave her alone in a dark room while the drugs were still messing with her mind. They all had their own ghosts, and even if she didn’t talk about them, they weren’t about to let Nat fight hers on her own.

They gathered in the common room where JARVIS had already ordered Thai and pizza, as well as ginger lemonade to combat the nausea. Bruce would have made a fresh jug himself if he were here, Tony caught himself thinking, and quickly shook his head to get rid of the melancholic feelings that threatened to overtake him.

He helped himself to rice and curry and sat down heavily in the armchair, switching on the TV and flipping through the channels as he ate. Nat held her head tipped back against the sofa, still pale, eyes half-closed. She was alternating between taking small bites from a piece of Margherita and sipping on her lemonade. Next to her, Steve was devouring the pizza like his life depended on it, but Tony was long past joking about the man’s increased need for calories.

“Who wants a drink?” Tony asked over the background noise of a news anchor announcing breaking news on the NSA data leak.

“Daiquiri,” Nat ordered, and it was a testimony to what they’d all been through together that no one questioned her ability to stomach rum a mere hour and a half after puking her guts up into a plastic bowl.

Tony pushed himself up from the chair and made it about two seconds on his feet before the headrush made him stumble blindly into the table.

"Whoa..." he breathed out at the same moment that Steve said "Steady" and jumped up to help.

“Think I really need that drink,” Tony commented, leaning on the larger man for support and rubbing his eyes with a groan until the haze cleared.

“I think you really need to sleep,” Steve scolded in his best worried-dad voice. Tony snorted and gazed up at the other man until he sighed and gave in. “Okay, I’ll get them. Sit down before you fall over.”

Tony gave him the prettiest smile he could muster. “That’s what I like to hear. Scotch for me, please.”

And so it ended. Nat had fallen asleep against Steve’s shoulder (or, having allowed herself to fall, to be precise; they all knew it was a gesture of trust and nothing that happened accidentally. Tony was stretched out in the armchair, idly swirling the ice in his scotch glass. Pink Floyd was playing in the background, and Steve was subconsciously tapping his foot along with the rhythm while finishing off the Thai leftovers.

The two men shared a smile across the coffee table—briefly, casually—and then Steve gently shifted Nat to lie down on the couch where she immediately curled up like a cat between the pillows, her dark red curls falling loosely over her face. He covered her with a blanket and threw another one over to Tony, who set down his glass just in time to catch it.

Steve left for a bit and returned with a novel and a cup of tea. Tony turned up the music a few notches and slowly let his eyes slip shut. He already knew that they’d all still be there come morning.

Tony isn’t sure why it’s this mission that comes back to him that night. It’s nothing special, nothing even particularly successful—just a bunch of injuries and comfort food, typical for how they used to operate.

He wonders whether Steve knew, back then. Whether Nat had already picked her side.

If anyone were to ask him now, he’d say he’s angry—furious, even—because that’s easier to deal with than the sadness that comes along with betrayal. And what he’d never say is that he misses them.

He doesn’t.

He really doesn’t.

(He’s always been such a good liar.)

Tony blinks into the darkness and their faces disappear. The memories might fade by morning, but the ghosts are here to stay.

#avengers team fic #tony stark #natasha romanov #steve rogers #whump

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