#i have a thing with blood so ive never once watched the suicide scene instead i listened to the descriptive audio

[demadogs]

i love all the queer film parallels to byler but get the 13 reasons why one out of here i did not write a ten page paper my freshman year of film school on how mentally damaging that show was for you to remind me it exists when im tryna enjoy my fun little 80s gay monster show

[teenage-inspiring-writer]

Bakugo x Reader: Ghost of You

Author’s Note: This story is something I came up with on the spot, I’m too lazy to re-read it so if there’s typos I’m sorry. (Also Todoroki x Reader in the works😏😉)

Warnings: Brief Mentions of Suicide, Angst, Fluff, Cursing, Death.

Quirk: Blood: You can manipulate blood cells, downside is that it must be your blood.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You both were still fairly early into your U.A years. It was the first semester of your second year, when it happened. The League of Villains had finally managed to over-throw U.A’s defenses. Leaving only the student to fight for their lives.

Class 2-A, You and Bakugo fought against several villains at once. Bakugo blasted the main villains with large explosions, accessing Midoriya and Todoroki. While you and the others concentrated on the smaller scale villains. Without realizing it, a villain grabbed a hold of you, stabbing a syringe deep into your neck. You’ve already lost a lot of blood using your own quirk trying to fight off the smaller scale villains. Before you can even detest the feeling of giving up, your body gives out. The world slowed as you began to collapse to the rough ground. You could hear Bakugo scream your name as you lose consciousness.

When you wake up, you expect to see the faces of your worn classmates. Though when you came too, all you saw was pitch black darkness. You panic. Screaming out for your boyfriend, anyone to come and save you from this eternal darkness. Then out of no where, a voice spoke. “Hi! You must be Y/n! Welcome.”you frantically look around for someone. “I’m down here” You quickly look down to see a little pixie starting at you. “Well are you going to let me up or not?” You quickly nod, lowering your hand down for her to step on. “Where are we?” “We’re in the border of this world and the next. You miss are on the brink of death.” I gasp shocked. “What-but I have to get back to bakug-“ The pixie interrupts me. “ Shh. I understand, trust me. Now I usually don’t do this but since you are so young, I will let you decide whether you want to move on to the afterlife or remain in the world of the living badly injured.” You’re about to respond until she places a small finger to your lips. “Aht before you answer, I will show you both outcomes. I know you once have thought about leaving this world, but that changed when you met the love of your life. Remember that he is affected by your choice.” You nod.

The pixie snaps her fingers and you are no longer in the darkness, instead in the U.A dorms. You notice Bakugo seated at the edge of the couch, hands lazily balanced on his knees in looks of defeat. You’re about to call out to him but again the pixie shh’s you. “He can not hear you. As I said this is an illusion, a possibility that could have if you so choose to leave this world.” You nod, watching the scene unfold. Kirishima and Kaminari walk-into the room from the kitchen, whispering to each other. “He’s been like this for days.” “Yeah Man I would say that it’s ridiculous but he loved her so much. She was his world.” Kaminari nodded with Kirishima. “She meant everything to him, she was his reason to live. The soft spot in his life, the person who was always there even when all he could do was yell. She understood him....they were soulmates.” The men glanced at Bakugo. “I know he’s suffering so much, but what are we to do? We can’t just tell him it’s going to be alright.” Kaminari pouted with a frown starring at Bakugo. “Shh Kirishima, look.” Kirishima turns his attention back to the slumped Bakugo. “DAMN IT ALL!” Is all he keeps shouting. This causes the rest of class 2-A to come out of their rooms. All of their faces fall when they see Bakugo screaming out his frustration. “WHY COULDN’T IT HAVE BEEN ME?! HMM WHY COULD SHE BE HERE WITH ME! WHY DID MY ANGEL LEAVE ME?! WHERE COULD I HAVE GONE WRONG HMM?” Bakugo starts to cry something he never did in front of everyone, but at this point he did care. He lost you. His angel sent from heaven. Midoriya and Iida come down the stairs in attempts to get bakugo to just calm down and rest. “Kacchan” is all Midoriya could say. He’s never seen his childhood friend so torn up. Bakugo contains himself and wipes his tears, then turns to face everyone in the class. “What do I do? Damn nerds what the heck am I supposed to do now? The women I love is gone. My future is gone. WHAT DO I DO NOW HUH?” All anyone can do is look sadly at him. It pains you to see him like this. So torn up and hurt just at the loss of you. You start to cry, choking back tears you ask the pixie to take you to the other illusion.

“As you wish.” She waves her hand, transporting you both to another place. This time the setting is in the hospital. You glance around, your eyes stumbling upon a figure in a hospital gown, IV’s shoved all into their arms. You float closer to see that this figure is you. Blood bags all around, some empty, some half full. Along side the blood bags was mountains of gifts, mostly get well soon cards and teddy bears, but one thing stood out to you. Dozens of bouquets of Y/f/f (your favorite flower). Little notes attached to them. The pixie begins to speak up. “If you choose to stay alive, you will be in a coma for a month, due to all of the blood transfusions you have received. You will survive, but physical therapy will be needed.” You nod. “Are these from Katsuki?” She nods. “He will drop on off everyday till you wake up. He misses you greatly, not a day goes by that you aren’t on his mind.” “Why are you telling me this? When most people die, they just move on to the other side.” She sighs. “Not always dear, some are trapped by what binds them to this world. My job is to help the souls move on, but sometimes I come across a youthful soul that just happened to get caught up in things that ended badly. You my dear or one of those people. I wanted you to know both outcomes, because that’s what most souls regret.” “Thank you, Miss Pixie. I made a decision. I choose to stay and live my like with Katsuki. I don’t care how much pain I’m in. If I get to see him again, it’s all worth it.” “Alright dear, off you go.” And with that you returned to the darkness with a feeling of hope instead of fear. You knew that this darkness would come to an end, and when you woke up, you’d see the man of your dreams.

Bonus:

After you wake up from your month long coma, and after doctors stabilized you, you were allowed visitors. The first one being Bakugo. He rushed into the room before the nurses could stop him. “Baby!” You’ve never seen him so expressive in public. He usually likes to keep your love to yourselves but times have changed. “Kat! I missed you so much.” “I missed you too dumbass. Don’t you ever scare me like that again, you hear me. Otherwise I’ll blow your ass to pieces, got me?” You simply nod, pulling him into a bone crushing hug, which he gladly accepts. You open your eyes to pull away from the embrace to see a blue glowing pixie, the same one from the darkness. She winks and smile then zooms off. ‘Thank you so much pixie for being me back to him.’

[empty-dream]

So I read 86 LN vol 1

S1 anime covers the entire Vol 1 except for the latter's epilogue, so full anime spoiler here.

And as of this writing, I'm still on Vol 2 so the things I mention here are solely those that happen in Vol 1. Idk if a thing happens in the latter volume, gotta dodge spoiler so I don't browse about it.

There was an interview with a person inside the anime industry that basically said "The point of an anime adaptation is not to be an exact replica of the original material, but to shine as its own medium for a story." I forgot who it was and I can't find the interview anywhere for the life of me, but that statement opened my eyes. I agree with it, that's why I can appreciate the differences between LN/manga and anime, especially if they turn out good and/or interesting.

And that's exactly what happens in 86. I'll start with this: I watched the anime first, and after I read the Vol1 novel, I actually like the anime more. Because there are a lot of meaningful original scenes in it

And because the Vol1 novel turns out exactly what I fear when I first watched the anime: that I won't care much about the squadron aside from the main 5. (Look, the anime promotional materials mostly only have Lena and those 5 only. As shocked as I was in the anime, I did have an idea where the story would go from those alone). The rest are barely mentioned. Not even the girls are named in the novel, even though they do talk and Lecca is even prominent in anime.

For example, the second half of the first episode, the one that shows Spearhead squadron's daily life right before Lena contacts them, is anime original scenes. Kujo already dies the moment the novel starts focusing on the squadron. Simply put, a lot of the squadron members that aren't the main 5 or Kaie get a *lot* more focus in the anime, like Daiya, Haruto (For characters who appear on the introduction page, their novel screen time is less than I'd expect), Kujo and Lecca. While the other members often appear in the background and actually behave like equal members instead of glue-them-on figurines.

(Idk if those other members are named and/or designed in the light novel before the anime is a thing or when the anime becomes a thing.)

The anime also adds relevant information in the Raiden's talk with Lena in EP7, like Kaie receiving racial abuse from 86 (in fact in both versions, she is the first one to get highlighted about this) and Haruto also having prominent Giadian Empire blood like Anju and Shin. These weren't in the novel.

I might be just nitpicking here because I love Kaie and Haruto, but see, this scene is amazing on its own. This is where Raiden and the squad reveal the weight of their motivation all along, that they *each* have different backgrounds and different kinds of sufferings, yet they are all sentenced to die, and they all choose to fight because they know no side is saintly but some things are still worth fighting for.

The prominent characters' deaths (besides Kaie's) are often mentioned with only one or two dry lines. I expected at least Daiya's to be detailed more, but it's just that so matter-of-fact-ly. Well I came from the anime, so I guess it's normal if I expected something as heartbreaking.

I broke down HARD at the last half of EP10 and that is nowhere in the Vol 1 novel. (Having Hands Up to the Sky playing in the background is also an advantage for being an anime. Fuck that song, I now play it 24/7 in despair)

Having a lot of original anime scenes really complement the story's nature. That there are two different sides of life here, it's not just Lena's or 86's only. And those couldn't have intertwined if not for their willingness to listen and communicate.

I know I mentioned this some days ago but really, I can't get over how many of the merch are Lena (and Annette) being cute doing cute stuff while the story itself is actually depressing. Merch staffs know the market lol.

- Novel side -

That said, the novel does have an advantage that the anime/visual media doesn't: Internal explorations and explanations.

It's obvious from the get-go, but Asato confirms that the inspiration of Republic of San Magnolia and its racial discrimination and genocide is taken from Nazi Germany in WW2. The Republic who favors the white/silver haired-eyed Alba drives Colorata out of the 85 sectors, overtakes their properties, and forcibly sends the now-called-86 to either fight their war and die, or work on the wall and die.

The life inside the Republic is also elaborated on. Class always exists, even inside one race only. The center of the republic is for the elites, Lena and Annette's families included. The farther a sector is from the center, the lower the education and economy there is. Most of the military come from these areas, which explains why Lena herself is in difficult situation. Since no one in the military is either capable or willing to bring change.

It's *insane* how easily the Republic could create such vile lies, and how easily the majority of the citizens go along with it.

Gotta admit, Asato does a good job at foreshadowing the fate of the 86, the truth that we can only see after Ep7 of anime. It is mentioned that supposedly, 86 soldiers will be welcomed back once their 5-years term is up. Lena once wonders about it, but ultimately she buys it thinking that surely they must have come back to another sector. She only realizes it's utter bullshit after Annette points out how, 9 years later, they have never seen even one Colorata inside the Republic when they should have seen at least some. This also shows that Lena has never ventured to the other sectors to find out more, probably due to work or maybe she's still a sheltered noblewoman in the end.

And the mentality of the majority of Alba is shown differently. Whereas the anime uses the academy classroom to show how deeply rooted the racism against 86 is, the novel uses Lena's mother who a) more or less does the same as the classroom, and b) presses Lena to get married and preserve their pure noble bloodline. This, when the nobility doesn't actually mean anything anymore. This version shows not only Alba's racism but also Lena's strained family life.

There is a scene of an Alba high school valedictorian who, during his graduating speech, says “My friends died fighting the Legion.” I’m not sure this will make it to the anime, and it’s just a minor scene in the novel, but the weight of that scene is heavy.

The science of Para-Raid is explained, which has something to do with tapping the collective consciousness of humanity and connecting it to one another. A bit far-etched but I guess that works, science fiction and all. But I like the part where despite (or maybe because?) of connecting via hearing only, the other senses are faintly receptive as well. For example, one can sense that the other side is biting their lips in frustration, something like that. Of course, actual real life things like sensing the hidden bitterness or elation in a talking partner's words are present, this being a story where listening matters.

The novel elaborates on Raiden's stay with the Alba old woman. He calls her Old Hag, but it's clear he greatly respects her. The part where she screams and curses in the middle of the road at the Republic soldiers who take Raiden and the other children away stays in Raiden's mind forever, and so it does to me. Ngl it is quite a chilling scene.

Same with the story of the previous Laughing Fox, Theo's Alba commander. It turns out, the entirety of Theo's first squadron didn't like him at all and bet on how fast he'd tuck tail and run back to the Republic. When he faced his death the way Theo explained, he sent a message to Theo revealing he knew about it and knew his place to not ask for acknowledgment or forgiveness. This made Theo regret why he didn't try to talk more with his commander and he keeps thinking about it forever. Now it makes even more sense why Theo, blunt as he is, is willing to listen to Lena and when he snaps, he wonders if his late commander would do the same.

What actually happens in Kurena's backstory is also touched upon. While in the anime some viewers could think "Man, I get where you're coming from but chill out." The novel graphically shows her parents being toyed on by the Alba soldiers while her sister protected her, the two could only watch, and then the same sister got sent to the battlefield to die. Now at that, anyone would think "Man, no wonder she can't chill out. Not with all that trauma."

I also like the addition that Lena can sense Kurena is the one who dislikes her the most.

The novel describes greatly that it isn't just Alba and Non-Alba. Essentially speaking, Non-Alba is called Colorata, and they consist of different race groups as well. Just as Alba is associated with the color silver/white, the other race have their associated colors as well. Asato assigns races to the named members in Vol1 and what their distinguished color features are. This also explains why Anju is exiled despite looking like an Alba.

It's a question that I pondered on when I first saw Shin's armor plates, and that I pondered harder on when Chise died: What happens if there is no armor plate to carve its processor's name's on? So it turns out Shin would substitute it with anything; piece of wood or some random piece of metal. For Chise's case, Raiden, Chise's leader, suggested using the wing of Chise's in-progress airplane model. Which did my heart so bad because I'm strangely fond of Chise and finding out that in his spare time in his limited lifespan, he was working on an airplane model made me sob.

I'm not particularly into mecha, and could care less about how it moves. But Asato did a good job describing the fight between a glorified suicide car and a line of brand-new solid A-grade tanks. Special mention to I-IV because wow the concept arts for all the mechas are so cool, even though I don't really understand. (Asato even said to I-IV "Go draw a tank so horrible it's stupid for the Juggernaut" and I-IV came up with the current Juggernaut)

You know how the Republic greeting is "Glory to San Magnolia and the five-colored flag"? I won't disclose who says this in what situation, but there is someone of Colorata saying "If you hate colors so much, you should have just colored your flag white" AND OOOH THE BURN SO HOT HOT HOT

Tl;dr: Bottom line is, I personally enjoy Vol 1 because I already watched the anime and got attached to it. If I were to read the vol 1 first, most likely I wouldn't fall this hard for the series. Hell, maybe I wouldn't even pick it up in the first place because I knew it'd be depressing. But this is not to say that the LN is bad. It’s very good, it just does not really touch the lives of other soldiers whereas that’s the very thing that I love from the anime.

[judexgraves]

The Warning, Ignored

“Check,” said the cloaked figure in front of Veronica.

Veronica lazily swayed from one side to the other in a chair she didn’t remember. In front of a chess game she didn’t remember starting, and with a person she had no recollection of knowing before now. The room was completely void yet pure white. She could not make out walls, but yet she felt trapped. Where was she?

“What?”

The cloaked figure’s head tilted up, but there was only darkness, no face to be seen. “Check,” it repeated. “It is your turn. What will you do now?”

Veronica looked back down at the chess pieces that were strewn amongst the table. Some had already fallen, and some were still in play. She wasn’t even sure she had played this game more than a handful of times in her life. Why was she playing it now?

“What do you mean?” she asked but when she looked back up there was Tabitha instead. Her face gave a look of confusion as she leaned all the way to the left into the couch armrest. Her eyes opened and closed slowly as she heard Tabitha’s voice, frantic, but unable to make out the words.

*****

“Narcan!” the paramedic demanded.

Tabitha stood at the opening of the back of the ambulance. She watched another paramedic hand over a syringe and her heart dropped. Tears streamed down her face and her hands trembled. The paramedic injected Veronica and Tabitha breathed a sigh of relief when Veronica’s eyes opened.

“V!” she yelled out. She watched as Veronica seemed to register her voice but her head fell back onto the stretcher.

The paramedic closest to the door moved to close it. “We’re going to Saint Mary’s,” he said while he slammed the doors in her face. The ambulance rushed off with lights and sirens blaring.

“But… I want to be with her,” Tabitha whimpered, confused why she wasn’t allowed into the ambulance.

Tabitha, still in her work clothes, jumped into her car and drove with her emergency blinkers on to the hospital across town. She had no idea what Veronica had done, or what she was thinking. Tabitha had been working a double at the restaurant when she got an odd text from Veronica. I love you… don’t let them wake me!

What does that even mean? Don’t let who wake her? Did she OD on purpose? What is going on in her head to think that’s okay? She’d never been so much as depressed, let alone suicidal! All these thoughts consumed her as she sped toward the hospital, nearly keeping up with the ambulance.

*****

Veronica looked out over the hilltop she stood on. It was dark, and the flora among her feet were rotted, decayed into nearly ash. The smell of sickly sweet death clung to her nostrils, but no matter where she looked she couldn’t quite find what would cause such a smell. There was no carcass, only the dead flowers. Slowly, she lifted her arm toward her nose, but before she got to close she realized it was her. She was the smell. She gagged, having to swallow back bile. What was wrong with her?

“You are sick,” the familiar voice caused her to look behind her. The cloaked figure made her chest ache.

“I’m only twenty-two, I haven’t even had the flu before. How am I this sick?”

“Pestilence does not care for your age or who one is.”

“Pestilence?” Veronica’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“They are coming. You are the beginning of an end.”

Veronica shook her head. “Now you just sound like you’re quoting scripture… I don’t-”

“Believe? No one believes until it is too late. There are many things one must believe in, and sickness and death will always make one a believer in them.”

“I can go to a doctor.”

“They have no cure for what is eating you from within.”

Veronica choked on a cry before she quickly turned away, only to fall to her knees from the dizzy spell. “I can’t leave my loved ones behind.”

“They will follow soon enough.”

“Will anyone survive?”

“No. Humans are the vermin, and we must cleanse.”

Veronica shook her head. Despite the putrid smell that came from her hands, she lifted them to her face to wipe the flow of tears. “I can stop it. If I stay away from everyone and end my life, I can stop it.”

“You can try…”

*****

Tabitha burst in through the doors of the ER, explaining to the man at the front desk who she was and what was happening. He checked with a passing nurse who gave a shrug and a nod, so he buzzed Tabitha into the open ER past the waiting room. She hurried into the room that she saw Veronica in, convulsing. Whether or not she was meant to be there was a wholly different story, but to her it didn’t matter the rules of the ER. She pleaded over and over for someone to help Veronica before two nurses pulled her from the doorway of the room. As they tried to console her, Tabitha couldn’t hear a thing, nothing more than noise in the background as medical staff tried to stop Veronica from convulsing. The foam from her mouth getting into her bright pink hair.

One nurse maneuvered Tabitha to walk with her away from the scene, but Tabitha just looked over her shoulder until they rounded a corner and she could no longer see inside the room. She then looked to the nurse and shook her head repeatedly. “Please. I’m begging you. Help her.”

The nurse sat Tabitha down at a table in a break room. “They’re doing all they can, ma’am. Please, take this and calm down.”

Tabitha looked at the can in front of her and carefully she took it from the nurse and nodded as she gave a few light sips. It only soured her stomach, despite the ginger she tasted, so she set down the can and began to sob. The nurse rubbed her back gently as if to comfort her, but Tabitha found no comfort in the memories embedded in her mind of Veronica convulsing.

*****

Veronica went in and out of consciousness. She saw the bright lights, heard the frantic demands of doctor and nurse alike, even felt the harsh punctures of syringes and that of the needle prick of an IV. She kept trying to beg them to stop, to let her die, but couldn’t form the words. The heroin had either done quite a number on her, or all of this stress was traumatizing her. She wasn’t sure. She had never touched drugs before, but she was sure she had done enough to end her life. So why was she still alive? Why weren’t people just letting her die? Didn’t they see? Didn’t they know she was already dead? That they would be too if they allowed her to live?

“Stop,” she whispered, but in the midst of all the frantic noise, she fell on deaf ears.

“They won’t stop, and neither will what’s inside you,” the voice came to her as if in a dream once more.

Veronica looked to her left and instead of machines and nurses, she saw the cloaked figure. Decay rained down upon them both in a soft shower. She smelled that distinct rot again. “It’s going to get on them, make it stop!”

A haunting chuckle emerged from the void. “They were infected the moment you arrived.”

“Stop. Please,” she begged.

“I only collect. I am the warning, ignored.”

Veronica turned her head to see the rot that was coursing upon the nurses and the doctors. They didn’t see it, but she did… she knew, and they were blind.

“Stop.”

*****

The faint beeps were lulling Tabitha to sleep as she sat beside Veronica’s bedside. They had gotten Veronica calm enough to put her out of the ER and into a room for further testing. The doctors tried to explain to Tabitha that the blood work they did was inconclusive. That besides the heroin something, odd, was in her blood. They took more to review, considering it a fluke for now, but to be safe wanted to keep her for observation.

Just as Tabitha’s eyes were shutting she heard her name. Her eyes shot open and she saw Veronica’s worried face.

“V!”

“Tabby… why? I told you not to do this.”

“What? Are you really upset with me to want to save you?”

“You don’t understand. I was trying to save you; all of you.”

Before Tabitha could speak, an alarm rang out. Codes were being listed frantically, but the only thing she understood was the word, QUARANTINE.

“What is going on?” Tabitha whispered.

“It’s happening,” Veronica said, voice weak and her bottom lip quivered. “It’s begun.”

Tabitha turned to Veronica seeing small, red welts appear on Veronica’s body. “V?” she questioned in a shaky tone.

Veronica looked to Tabitha. Her right eye bulged and then rotted from her skull. Black ooze trickled from the open space. “You should have listened.”

Tabitha screamed. She looked down and saw small, red welts appearing on her own skin. Before she could call for a nurse there were many more screams which echoed from the hall. There were so many and so loud. It was almost deafening as Tabitha drew closer to the door to open it. The scene in the hall was enough to make Tabitha’s blood run cold.

Some nurses were running toward patient rooms, others were sitting in the floor clawing at their red, welted skin. A patient was face down in a pool of dark blood that seemed more like oil. Tabitha shook her head. Her vision tunneled as she felt nauseated. As she felt the bile rise to her throat she felt herself falling. She passed out before she hit the ground.

*****

“Checkmate,” the cloaked figure said.

Veronica sat upright and rigid in the familiar chair. Her eyes scanned the game of which she still doesn’t remember playing, but the figure was correct. It was checkmate. The game was over.

“Did I even play?” A chuckle from the void had her arm hairs stand on end.

“Not willingly, no,” it replied.

“Why me?”

“You were merely a random means to an end. It could have been anyone, and now it is slowly becoming everyone.”

“Will I see them again? My friends? My family?”

The cloaked figure looked to a door, one that Veronica hadn’t noticed. “Walk through there and you may find out.”

Veronica sat in silence for a moment. Her head slowly turned back to the cloaked figure. “I’ll play you for it. This time, I'll actually play.”

“Play me for what?”

“For the human race.”

Deep laughter filled the room. “It is over. What has been done, is done. I only collect.”

“I tried.” Veronica choked on her cries. “I tried to warn them.”

“Yes. You did, child, you did.”

Veronica felt tears fall as her mouth opened and she spoke with the figure, “I am the warning, ignored.”

[ashphoenix06]

Sweet Dreams Part 2

Schneep had been standing outside of room 209 for ten minutes now, unable to find the courage to face whoever came by this time. He has swiftly wiped away his tears before exiting the elevator but that didn’t stop his eyes from feeling the drain that crying causes pile onto his fatigue. Whoever was in there, he knew, would be able to see that something was wrong with him. His friends were observant that way. And he wasn’t too fond of their perception. They would insist that he take it easy or take some time off, which he absolutely refused to do. After all, a doctor’s work was never done.

He gripped the handle with a trembling hand but instead of opening the door, he rested his forehead against the cold door. Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought back the tears that threatened to spill out again. This was stupid, he thought. Sure, he has carried the guilt of that night for two years now but he had never broken down over it. He was the strong one in the group, the rock for the others to lean on. Schneep never had the need to cry with the others coming to him for guidance. That didn’t mean that he was a completely heartless drone, far from it. He grieved in his own way, in silence and alone. That’s how he worked… that was Henrick Schneeplestein… so why was is walls coming down now?

Gulping a few jagged breaths to calm his nerves, he straightened up and pushed on the handle. He had to do it now or otherwise he wouldn’t have the nerve to go in. This feeling made Schneep confused and angry with himself. What was going on today?

Stepping into the room, he took in the scene in front of him. The bland white walls with generic pictures framed on them. The bathroom off to the side that was just completely pointless to have. The TV that hung on the wall but was never turned on. There was no life in this room; it was just an empty space… except for the patient who had occupied it for the last two years.

Schneep first looked at the heart monitor next to the single hospital bed. The green line on the screen showed a slow, normal pulse. Same as always, Schneep though. It’s monotonous beeps were usually the only sound to emanate in the normally quiet room. The IV bag right next to it was half full, it’s contents dripping into the tube in an consistent rhythm. Schneep made a mental note to alert a nurse that the bag would need changing soon.

Finally having nothing else to look at, Schneep turned his eyes to the bed and his heart dropped to his stomach; which was the normal reaction whenever he first looked at his sleeping friend after a while. There, on the hospital bed, laid his dear friend Jack. For the last two years, after that terrible Halloween night, Jack had been the sole occupant of room 209. Schneep was just thankful at times that he was able to save Jack in time before he died from blood loss and lack of oxygen. At other times, as much as it pained him to think it, Schneep wished that Jack had died that night. If he hadn’t of made it, then at least the rest of them wouldn’t of had to endure this torturous hell for the last two years. And Jack wouldn’t of had to been stuck in this room, his life dependent on the machines that were whirling next to him.

Above all, Schneep regretted not listening to Jack weeks before that glitchy demon attacked. Jack had come to him personally, complaining of random blackouts when he recorded his videos and a constant feeling that someone was watching him, just waiting for the right moment. Schneep had written it off as jitters due to the horror games he was playing and also to the coming holiday. He told Jack to take it easy and maybe lay off the horror games for a while. And then on Halloween, he got a panicked text from Jackie, stressing that something was wrong and he need to get over to Jack’s place right away. Schneep had hurried as fast as he could to Jack’s house and the scene he walked in on still haunted him to this day.

Shaking the memory from his thoughts, he looked at Jack one more time. His friends face looked so peaceful in his slumber, his eyes fluttering every now and then under his eyelids. That was the reason Schneep hadn’t pulled the plug on his friend months after that horrible night. A brain scan had proven that Jack hadn’t suffer any brain damage or wasn’t brain dead; he was still there. He just refused to wake up… or couldn’t. That thought alone made Schneep shiver. What in the fuck did Anti do to Jack? It had to of been something very traumatic to make his dear friend hide deep inside his own mind.

There was a ping from the other side of the room that pulled Schneep from his thoughts. He turned to the source of the noise and felt his heart drop even farther. Sitting cross legged in the chair next to Jack was Chase, tapping away at his phone. He hadn’t even noticed Schneep entering the room, but the good doctor expected as much after Chase decided to take on the role of Jack in order to keep the channel safe from Anti. He had kinda hoped that it was Jackie that had come this time. He hadn’t seen his bouncy, optimistic friend in the last three days and Schneep found himself fretting over the boy hero.

Not that he wasn’t happy to see Chase. Chase was another one of his friends that he had managed to save from death’s black claws but his odds to survive when Schneep had removed the bullet from his right temple were slim if not near impossible. That had crushed Schneep, who considered Chase like a brother. But somehow, against all the odds, Chase had managed to not only survive from his attempt at suicide but also to not suffer from any permanent brain damage. Schneep remembered the day Chase woke up fondly. Jackie had practically sprung from his chair and nearly suffocated the groggy Chase in a bear hug. Schneep just watched in the background with a small smile as the rest of the group surrounded him. Everything seemed like it was going to be okay after that… but then Anti appeared and made Jack slit his own throat….

Chase stopped tapping on his phone and looked around the room, his eyes coming to a complete stop when they spotted Schneep. Chase gave him a bittersweet smirk and Schneep felt a chill run down his spine. His dear friend had completely transformed into a different version of himself after he stepped in Jack’s shoes. The once heart sick, depressed man now showed more confidence in himself as well as a more positive outlook on the world. This change should of made Schneep swell with pride, which he normally did… but he couldn’t help but feel a bit fearful. He didn’t want to lose the real Chase, which he knew was a silly thing to worry over… but still…

“It’s good to see you again, Henrick,” Chase said, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward in the chair. Schneep quickly dashed the dark thoughts out of his head and smiled back.

“It’s good to see you too, my friend. How is the channel holding up? Any plans for the new year?”

Chase shrugged as he leaned back into the chair. He could never stay still, Schneep thought to himself. He and Jackie were similar in that way except Jackie was more bouncy.

“Oh, you know, same old thing just in a new year. I think I’m going to work more on the channel this time around instead of traveling around like on the tour… but I’m still going to go back to LA for a while….”

Schneep nodded as Chase went on about his ideas for the channel. It warmed his heart to see his friend so passionate about something. He hadn’t had this drive in a long while.

He noticed the room starting to go in and out around him. What the hell, he thought to himself. Chase had stopped talking and was giving him a quizzical look. The small round scar on his right temple was revealed from the light seeping through the blinds, the only reminder left from when he shot himself.

    Schneep tried to hide his sudden infliction by opening the red chart and practically cowering behind it. He cleared his throat as sweat began to form on his brow. Keep it together, he ordered himself. You’re stronger than this.

    Something began scratching in the back of his mind but he ignored it as he read the charts from Jack’s file.

    “So… so nothing has changed since the last time, I’m afraid… There is still brain activity going on but he just won’t w….”

    “Henrick? Are you okay? You look like shit…”

    Schneep dared a glance from over the file to see his friend leaning forward in the chair again, looking concerned. His whole body began to shake and he felt his balance waver a bit. His head felt hot as the scratching in his head intensified. What… the… hell….

    Chase was on his feet and leaning over the bed. “Henrick, when is the last time you’ve actually rested? You look like you’re about to keel over…”

    “I’m fine, my friend,” Schneep lied, “I don’t have time to rest… you know how it is… a doctors work is nev….”

    “Bullshit,” Chase said, starting to walk towards him. Schneep felt himself taking a step back, grabbing the bed in order to keep himself up. He was fine, dammit… he was…

    “...fine… I’m fine, Chase. Probably a twenty four hour thing but nothing I can’t handle.”

    “Come on, Henrick. You know you can’t lie to me… you need to take a break and rest,” Chase pointed to Jack’s still form. “You’re not going to help anyone, Jack specifically, if you managed to run yourself ragged. I came here to check on you as well as Jack. You know, Jackie’s been blowing up my phone worried about you.”

    “I saw Jackie three days ago, my friend, and he’s… he’s...” Schneep stammered. There was a quick flash of Jackie looking at him, tears streaming down his face. Schneep lost his grip on the bed and fell to one knee, his head pounding from the consistent scratching. He couldn’t get Jackie’s broken look our of him mind. He grabbed the sides of his head, his breathing coming out rapidly. He could barely hear someone calling his name, but it wasn’t anyone in the room. A memory? Jackie? Marvin?

    “Henrick!”

    Chase ran over to the good doctor and bent over to help him up. “Come on, man! Something’s definitely wrong! Let me get you into the chair and I’ll call for a nurse. Dammit, doc! You should start listening to us when we tell you….”

    Doc? Did Chase just call him… doc?

    He felt his friends hand grab his shoulder and proceed to try to lift him up. But Schneep was temporarily frozen. The minute Chase touched him, a flash of mismatched memories flooded his mind.

    Marvin staring at him with pure hatred… Jackie yelling out to him, face all covered in blood…. Two eyes looking up at him with fear and horror, pleading at him to… to…

    Wake up, Henrick!!!!

    A flash of glitching…..

    Those eyes fading to dull emptiness…..

    “GET OFF ME!”

    Schneep thrusted with all his might, pushing Chase away from him. Chase was caught off guard, losing his bearings and falling flat onto the floor. As he lifted himself from the floor, Schneep crawled over to the opposite wall, panting and sweating from the strain it was putting on him. He stared at Chase as he managed to get on his knees and turn to him, trembling from the flood of memories crashing down on him.

    Chase look at him with a mixture of shock and sadness.

    “Henrick… what the fuck is wro…”

    “Stay away from me,” Schneep spatted, raising a shaking finger, “You… you just stay away!”

    “Come on, Henrick… you’re not making any sense,” Chase tried to lean forward, his hand outstretched, “you’re obviously sick from overworking… let me help you…”

    “NO,” Schneep screeched, kicking at Chase in order to keep him as far away as possible. Chase retreated back in order to avoid being kicked, hurt spreading over his features.

    “Henrick…”

    “What… What did you make me do?”

    “What the fuck are you talking about?”

    Schneep used the wall to help himself get to his feet, though the task took a lot of energy to do. With half his body pressed against the cold surface, he looked Chase dead in the eyes.

    “I remember…. I remember… Jackie… Oh, god! What did you make me do to him!”

    Chase just stared in disbelief as Schneep pointed at him once again.

    “What did you make me do? WHAT DID YOU MAKE ME DO?”

Here is part 2 of the writing prompt requested by @glitchbicth. It may have taken me all day and I may not have gotten the chance to proofread it through, but I was excited about writing this part! Part 3 will be out tomorrow. Enjoy!

[qveenofthorns]

Brave, gentle, strong: there is only one (no really—I checked)

“When you’re old enough, I will make you a match with a high lord who’s worthy of you, someone brave and gentle and strong.” – Eddard Stark, Sansa III, AGOT

I’ve seen a lot of metas about textual evidence for Sandor being the BGS That Was Promised™, and I started wondering if there are any other candidates. What if we’re all so ~blinded~ by our ship that we missed something else right in front of us? I used A Search of Ice and Fire to check every single Sansa/Alayne chapter for these words (and variations of them) to see if she thinks of anyone else using all of these terms.  

Here are all of the of the uses sorted by character/chronologically (excluding the times she tells Sweetrobin that he’s brave and strong or she tells herself to be brave like Robb):

Joffrey

1. “It was a great honor to ride with the queen, and besides, Prince Joffrey might be there. Her betrothed. Just thinking it made her feel a strange fluttering inside, even though they were not to marry for years and years. Sansa did not really know Joffrey yet, but she was already in love with him. He was all she ever dreamt her prince should be, tall and handsome and strong, with hair like gold.” Sansa I, AGOT

Okay, so I think we can discount this one given the context of Ned’s “brave and gentle and strong” quote, but I really wanted to cover all the bases. It’s also a pretty superficial assessment, moulding him to fit the part in which she’s cast him based on the songs.

Barristan Selmy

1. “One knight wore an intricate suit of white enameled scales, brilliant as a field of new-fallen snow, with silver chasings and clasps that glittered in the sun. When he removed his helm, Sansa saw that he was an old man with hair as pale as his armor, yet he seemed strong and graceful for all that. From his shoulders hung the pure white cloak of the Kingsguard.” Sansa I, AGOT

This one is also an extremely obvious no, though it is still interesting. Despite being old, he seems like a knight from the songs and we see the Kingsguard cloak for the first time in a Sansa POV.  

Sandor

1. “She stepped backward and bumped into someone. Strong hands grasped her by the shoulders, and for a moment Sansa thought it was her father, but when she turned, it was the burned face of Sandor Clegane looking down at her, his mouth twisted in a terrible mockery of a smile.” Sansa I, AGOT

This is after she first sees Ser Ilyn Payne, whom she finds terrifying. Her initial response to Sandor’s touch is positive and this won’t be the last time she backs into him when she’s afraid.

2. “Sandor Clegane scooped her up around the waist and lifted her off the featherbed as she struggled feebly. Her blanket fell to the floor. Underneath she only had a thin bed gown to cover her nakedness. ‘Do as you’re bid, child,’ Clegane said. ‘Dress.’ He pushed her toward her wardrobe, almost gently.” Sansa VI, AGOT

This is the first BGS occurrence since her conversation with Ned. She’s depressed and suicidal and hasn’t bathed in who-knows-how-long after his death. Joffrey has demanded she get dressed and bathe or else “his Hound” will do it for her. She still asks that Joff leave her alone and doesn’t move, at which point he orders Sandor to get her out of bed.

3. “‘Here, girl.’ Sandor Clegane knelt before her, between her and Joffrey. With a delicacy surprising in such a big man, he dabbed at the blood welling from her broken lip.” Sansa VI, AGOT

Not only is he being gentle with her here, he also just prevented her from committing a murder/suicide.

4. “‘True knights,’ he mocked. ‘And I’m no lord, no more than I’m a knight. Do I need to beat that into you?’ Clegane reeled and almost fell. ‘Gods,’ he swore, ‘too much wine. Do you like wine, little bird? True wine? A flagon of sour red, dark as blood, all a man needs. Or a woman.’ He laughed, shook his head. ‘Drunk as a dog, damn me. You come now. Back to your cage, little bird. I’ll take you there. Keep you safe for the king.’ The Hound gave her a push, oddly gentle, and followed her down the steps. By the time they reached the bottom, he had lapsed into a brooding silence, as if he had forgotten she was there.” Sansa II, ACOK

The serpentine encounter is the perfect example of the walking, talking dichotomy that is Sandor Clegane. “Iron fingers” catch her wrist and prevent her from falling down the steps and he makes a joke about how she’s trying to kill them both (something to consider for the future, Sandor: you’re the one lurching out of hidden doorways in the middle of the night, so maybe that’s part of the problem). She says he’s hurting her but he doesn’t let go of her wrist. Then he makes some inappropriate comments about her body and asks her to sing him a song about knights and fair maidens (because he’s a closet sappy romantic like that) because she likes knights. She says she likes true knights and then we come in at the quote. So we go from scary drunk who’s holding her wrist too tight and coming on to her sexually (the only time he ever does) to immediately realizing he’s way out of line, going back to gentle touches and promises to keep her safe. He also lies to protect her from Boros Blount on the very next page. I think it’s fairly safe to say his brooding is primarily about two things: kicking himself over how he just acted, and the “keep you safe for the king” part (he knows Joff well enough to realize that the king is the biggest threat to her safety). In a Daenerys ACOK chapter, she says of Jorah, “Sometimes he thinks of me as a child he must protect, and sometimes as a woman he would like to bed….” I reread that chapter the other day and couldn’t help but think of SanSan and this scene in particular.  

5. “The Hound pulled her to her feet, not ungently.” Sansa III, ACOK

This is at the beginning of the scene where she’s beaten and stripped by Boros Blount. While he’s gentle with her in that moment and does tell Joffrey to stop later, his inaction on this occasion is the biggest regret of his life and he cries about it on his “deathbed.”

6. “A stab went through her, so sharp that Sansa sobbed and clutched at her belly. She might have fallen, but a shadow moved suddenly, and strong fingers grabbed her arm and steadied her.” Sansa IV, ACOK

Okay, so I’m kind of convinced that Sandor spends all of his free time stalking her (because he doesn’t know how to handle the fact that he has positive feelings for another human being?). He’s always lurking in shadows, only to pop out to save her from falling. How often does he hide in the shadows near her that we just never see?

7. “She made herself look at that face now, really look. It was only courteous, and a lady must never forget her courtesies. The scars were not the worst part, nor even the way his mouth twitches. It’s his eyes. She had never seen eyes so full of anger. ‘I… I should have come to you after,’ she said haltingly. ‘To thank you, for… for saving me… you were so brave.’” Sansa IV, ACOK

Ugh, I just have so many feels about this interaction. Between these two quotes, Sandor bb gets sad because she’s scared of him and “still can’t bear to look,” so he lashes out. “He is a dog, just as he says. A half-wild, mean-tempered dog that bites any hand that tries to pet him, and yet will savage any man who tries to hurt his master.” Yes, because he is an ABUSED dog and no one has every tried to pet him before so he’s getting very confused. I’m getting side-tracked by the feels so I’ll stop myself here.

8. “Of late Ser Osmund had taken Sandor Clegane’s place by Joffrey’s side, and Sansa had heard the women at the washing well saying that he was as strong as the Hound, only younger and faster. If that was so, she wondered why she had never once heard of these Kettleblacks before Ser Osmund was named to the Kingsguard.” Sansa VI, ACOK

I considered also including this under the Kettleblacks, but decided against it because she’s not the one saying they’re strong. Her attitude here feels similar to her attitude during the first unkiss mention (“these other girls/women are so silly—I have the Hound and what they have is inferior”).

9. “He yanked her closer, and for a moment she thought he meant to kiss her. He was too strong to fight. She closed her eyes, wanting it to be over, but nothing happened.” Sansa VII, ACOK

This one typically gets left out because it doesn’t exactly portray him in a positive light, but I’m trying to include everything, good and bad. I have some thoughts on this re: the unkiss, but this isn’t the place for that. Short version: it would have been very easy for GRRM to write something like “she wished he wouldn’t,” but instead he wrote “wanting it to be over.” I’m not saying she wanted him to kiss her in that moment, but she didn’t not want him to kiss her either (or it could be a “just get it over with” scenario).

Tyrion

1. “Sansa watched him walk off, his body swaying heavily from side to side, like something from a grotesquerie. He speaks more gently than Joffrey, she thought, but the queen spoke to me gently too. He’s still a Lannister, her brother and Joff’s uncle, and no friend. Once she had loved Prince Joffrey with all her heart, and admired and trusted his mother, the queen. They had repaid that love and trust with her father’s head. Sansa would never make that mistake again.” Sansa I, ACOK

“More gently than Joffrey” is a pretty low bar. Overall, not a very glowing review of Tyrion: he’s not a monster, but he’s grotesque, can’t be trusted, and could turn into a monster later.

Osmund Kettleblack

1. “Sansa tried to run, but Cersei’s handmaiden caught her before she’d gone a yard. Ser Meryn Trant gave her a look that made her cringe, but Kettleblack touched her almost gently and said, “Do as you’re told, sweetling, it won’t be so bad. Wolves are supposed to be brave, aren’t they?” Sansa III, ASOS  

If you didn’t have déjà vu while reading this, something is wrong because this is almost EXACTLY the same as a Sandor moment included on this list. (“‘Do as you’re bid, child,’ Clegane said. ‘Dress.’ He pushed her toward her wardrobe, almost gently.”) HOWEVER, I don’t think Sandor would have been so chill in this particular situation. This is as she’s being dragged off to marry Tyrion and seeing as finding out Sansa had married Tyrion made Sandor suicidal, well, that’s a thought for another day. Between this and Sandor #8, I feel like there’s potential for a SanSan meta solely comparing Sandor and the Kettleblacks. (Someone else please write that—I’m only even doing this because I have mild writer’s block on a fic and needed a break.)

Ser Dontos

1. “‘Not far.’ Ser Dontos took her hand in his own and rubbed it gently. “Your friend is near, waiting for you.’” Sansa V, ASOS

This is while she and Dontos are escaping after Joffrey’s murder. It’s mentioned that they take the serpentine steps at one point. See Sandor #4 for another important interaction there.

Petyr Baelish

1. “He saved Alayne, his daughter, a voice within her whispered. But she was Sansa too… and sometimes it seemed to her that the Lord Protector was two people as well. He was Petyr, her protector, warm and funny and gentle… but he was also Littlefinger, the lord she’d known at King’s Landing, smiling slyly and stroking his beard as he whispered in Queen Cersei’s ear. And Littlefinger was no friend of hers. When Joff had her beaten, the Imp defended her, not Littlefinger. When the mob sought to rape her, the Hound carried her to safety, not Littlefinger. When the Lannisters we’d her to Tyrion against her will, Ser Garlan the Gallant gave her comfort, not Littlefinger. Littlefinger never lifted so much as his little finger for her.” Sansa I, AFFC

Wow, so there’s a lot to unpack here but most of it isn’t relevant to this post. However, this is one of the many times she compares Sandor favorably to other men.

2. “‘Forgive her, my lords,’ Petyr Baelish said softly. ‘She still has nightmares of that day. Small wonder if she cannot bear to speak of it.’ He came up behind her and put his hands gently on her shoulders. ‘I know how hard this is for you, Alayne, but our friends must hear the truth.’ Her throat felt so dry and tight it almost hurt to speak.” Sansa I, AFFC

I see two SanSan parallels in this brief passage. Putting his hands on her shoulders from behind reminds me of her first interaction with Sandor and her throat hasn’t been “dry and tight” since the Blackwater. All of the language in the Blackwater scene is highly sexual, but here, those are the only words that stand out and I only noticed them because they’ve been used before.

Lothor Brune

1. “Sober, he was a quiet man, but a strong one. And Petyr says he’s loyal.” Alayne II, AFFC

The only thing I’ll say about Lothor is that Sansa also compares him to Sandor/he triggers memories about Sandor (ex: the incident with Marillion where she thinks it might be the Hound saving her for a moment before she realizes that’s impossible).

Here’s a chart for the visual learners

Conclusion: Sandor is the only man worthy of Sansa, as per her father’s parameters

While, just like Sansa, “I knew the Hound would win,” I didn’t expect the results to be this conclusive. He hits all three points while no one else scores above a two. SANDOR BB IS THE ONLY ONE WHO MEETS MORE THAN ONE CRITERIA. SHE NEVER DESCRIBES ANOTHER MAN AS BRAVE. NOT ONCE. ONLY HIM. She talks about brave men in general, but he is the only specific man she ever calls brave.* And it’s not internal monologue like all of the other instances I’ve outlined—she’s saying it aloud, thanking him to his face. And it’s also worth noting that several of the occasions she describes another man as gentle or strong are callbacks to interactions with Sandor. Knowing GRRM, there’s no way that’s an accident. So SanSan is endgame or GRRM is the world’s biggest troll. Either way, my heart hurts.

*While bravery only shows up once in this analysis, Sansa does frequently describe women (herself included) as being brave and also reminds herself to be brave a lot (that whole weird thing where GRRM writes female characters like actual people instead of accessories to the men in their lives).

[logh-icebergs]

Episode 26: Farewell, Distant Days

Dear Icebergs readers—as we’ve reached the first season finale of LoGH, we’ve inevitably arrived at some pretty serious spoilers, so if you haven’t already seen all of LoGH season one, I would advise against reading any further. Instead, you can find our FAQs here and our very first post here, and we hope to see you back here soon!

Everyone else: When you're ready, please proceed to our episode 26 post, below. —the editors

September-October 797/488. Ansbach’s assassination attempt on Reinhard is thwarted by Kircheis—first by knocking his gun out of the way, and then by taking fire himself from yet another concealed weapon, this time in Ansbach’s ring. Ansbach shoots through Kircheis’s chest and neck, then bites a poison pill to commit suicide. Reinhard’s admirals scramble, but it’s too late to save Kircheis, who dies while Reinhard holds his hand and looks on in bewilderment. Beyond devastated, Reinhard shuts himself away with Kircheis’s body for days on end. Oberstein convinces the admirals to cast former ally Lichtenlade as a scapegoat for Ansbach’s crime, and, grateful for something to do, the entire fleet storms Odin. Meanwhile, Oberstein informs Annerose of Kircheis’s death, Reuental receives an unexpected invitation, and Reinhard hardens his heart.

Reinhard and Kircheis

The first time I watched episode 26 of Legend of Galactic Heroes, there was a moment when, literally sitting on the edge of my seat, I wondered if this show was about to disappoint me horribly. Kircheis was, clearly, dying. The admirals were fluttering around him trying and failing to stop the bleeding, giving up on leaving to go get a doctor—too quickly, it seemed. And where was Reinhard? Why wasn’t he there?

As a queer consumer of media, I’m used to this kind of disappointment. Seeing my experiences reflected onscreen at all remains rare, and when a piece of media does deign to include a queer character or two, more often than not they’re killed off unceremoniously in as homophobically moralizing a way as possible. The death scenes of queer characters tend to leave me with a sick feeling not because I’m grieving the character but because I hate that I’ve had to give up on expecting queer characters and their relationships to be given a fraction of the respect afforded their straight counterparts.

The first 25 episodes of LoGH had surprised me with their nuanced and respectful depiction of queerness, in particular of Reinhard and Kircheis’s relationship. But as a seasoned veteran of queer media consumption, as Kircheis bled out on the floor while Reinhard did who knows what across the room, I didn’t know how else to interpret what I was seeing other than “Kircheis is about to die alone.” My stomach hurt. And then, this happened:

Given that it’s animated, LoGH has so far been remarkable in its commitment to realism. Without exception, what has been shown to us onscreen has been presented as an accurate depiction of events; the closest to a diversion from that has been the show’s frequent use of flashbacks, but even those are always anchored to a specific character’s experience of remembering the past.

As Reinhard steps painstakingly down the stairs toward where Kircheis lays in a pool of his own blood, the creators of LoGH throw away their own established set of rules. What we are seeing is no longer what is literally happening; instead, we are with Reinhard—and for him, nothing in the world exists at that moment except Kircheis and himself. With this scene, the LoGH creative team show us that they will do whatever they have to in order to respect their characters: If there are too many people around for Reinhard and Kircheis to get the intimate last goodbyes they and their relationship deserve, well, everyone else will simply have to be removed.

Even the lack of voiceover accompanying Reinhard’s quick series of flashbacks here reinforces the extent to which reality has been skewed for the duration of this scene.

For me, this was when LoGH went from being a great show to being (as you may have noticed) my favorite show—and not just because of how kindly it treats its characters, even while they experience gut-wrenching tragedy. Kircheis’s death changes Reinhard and, as I’ll obviously be exploring at length as we move into season 2, that changes the entire landscape of the show. Though from the beginning it has always been deeply personal and human, especially for a war epic of such massive scale, the question of what Reinhard will do now, without Kircheis, turns LoGH psychologically dark in ways that have only been hinted at so far.

Back in episode 4, we were first introduced to Reinhard’s plan to gain enough power to rescue Annerose from the clutches of Kaiser Friedrich IV. Friedrich IV has since died of natural causes, freeing Annerose without Reinhard’s help. In episode 8, we learn that Reinhard’s ambitions extend to overthrowing the Goldenbaum empire, and then achieving supremacy over the entire universe—very specifically with Kircheis at his side. By the end of episode 26, Reinhard rules the empire in everything but name (the six-year-old Erwin Josef II still sits on the throne as Kaiser), but Kircheis is dead, rendering Reinhard’s longtime goal of joint conquest impossible.

For practical purposes, this barely matters: Above, Kircheis uses some of his last remaining energy to beg Reinhard to follow through with the plan they made together, in effect guaranteeing that he will continue on the same path after Kircheis dies. But in more abstract terms, both of Reinhard’s main reasons for seeking political power are now gone. And with a promise to the dead Kircheis as Reinhard’s driving force, Empire-side LoGH has suddenly become a very different show—one that is no longer about a man trying to conquer the universe, but is rather about a man searching for something to hold onto in a universe that, without Kircheis in it, seems to have very little to offer.

Annerose

But Reinhard shouldn’t feel entirely alone in the universe. After all, he has his sister, right? Well, not exactly. As Reinhard learns after Oberstein breaks the news of Kircheis’s death to Annerose (against Reinhard’s wishes), Annerose has decided now is the perfect time to do something really, really cruel: cut off contact with her grieving brother.

Reinhard’s Family

That the season 1 arc of Reinhard and Annerose’s relationship ends on a bad note is frankly an understatement, but to really dig into how things stand between them in episode 26, we must first get a handle on all the moving parts that brought them to this point.

Over the course of my season 1 posts, I’ve mapped out much of the dynamic between Reinhard and Annerose: Reinhard, who both idealizes and idolizes his sister, does so (unwittingly) at the expense of her personhood; Annerose, whose agency has been violently denied her since an early age, projects a portion of her (natural) resentment onto her brother, who moves freely about the universe steadily gaining power while her life remains stagnant. One aspect of their relationship that I haven’t examined, however, is the extent to which Annerose has played a parental role in Reinhard’s life.

In this scene from the episode 4 flashback, Reinhard assigns to Annerose the kind of responsibility for his behavior that would ordinarily be reserved for a parent or guardian.

And then, after Reinhard and Kircheis have conspired to keep Reinhard’s misdeeds from his sister, Annerose puts their wet clothes in the laundry and dotes on them with hot chocolate and freshly baked pie. This is maybe the most archetypal depiction of motherhood I’ve ever seen, despite the fact that Annerose is both 1. actually Reinhard’s sister and 2. only five years his senior.

Reinhard’s father, who sold Annerose into sexual slavery at the age of fifteen, is obviously awful. And Reinhard’s mother, who hasn’t even ever been mentioned, clearly never had much of a presence in Reinhard’s life. Annerose is the only person (besides, eventually, Kircheis) we ever see taking responsibility and caring for Reinhard.

Reinhard’s family, as it is presented to us, is comprised of three people: himself, Annerose, and Kircheis. Though Kircheis is literally never (not once in all of LoGH!) referred to as being “like a brother” to Reinhard, their constant companionship since a young age means that their interactions often blur the line between surrogate-familial and romantic. The fact that Reinhard always brings Kircheis with him on visits to Annerose, for example, indicates that he at least views the three of them as a tight-knit unit.

But in Reinhard’s chosen family, there is a clear delineation of roles between Annerose and himself/Kircheis. In the gif above, Reinhard and Kircheis sit across the table from Annerose, who acts like a parent not just to Reinhard but to Kircheis as well; the difference in age and maturity between them is underlined by both Annerose’s matter-of-fact competence and Reinhard and Kircheis’s unashamed (and matching) nudity.

The photo that Kircheis gazes at in episode 25 (which eventually shows up in Reinhard’s locket, discussed later in this post) also draws a solid line between Annerose—who is more than a full head taller than the boys—and Reinhard/Kircheis. Kircheis’s sideways gaze at Reinhard serves to emphasize even further that they are a discrete pair.

Reinhard’s behavior towards Annerose starts to make more sense once you realize that he basically considers her his mother. Just as children tend not to understand—sometimes well into adulthood—that their parents are fully formed, flawed human beings with rich inner lives, so Reinhard has kept Annerose on a pedestal, treating her more like a symbol than a complex person. This also explains how Reinhard can, for example, be so blasé about teasing Kircheis in front of Annerose for his love of her cooking: Naïve as he is, the idea that Annerose might have feelings for Kircheis that go beyond platonic and motherly would never occur to Reinhard in a million years—unless something were to happen that brought Annerose’s feelings into stark relief.

Annerose Makes Up Her Mind

Which brings us back to the scene at hand, Kircheis’s death being the exact sort of cataclysmic event that might throw a wrench into Reinhard’s precarious relationship with his sister. And the second Annerose opens her mouth to speak, Reinhard knows something is wrong:

Annerose’s tone of voice here is as cold and distant as what she’s actually saying; rather than sharing in or sympathizing with Reinhard’s grief, she isolates him in it, trivializing his feelings of loss while also—by implying Kircheis was the only person Reinhard could ever care about losing—calling into question the authenticity of his devotion to her.

If Reinhard had been aware of all the little signs of Annerose’s resentment towards him that have been building up over the course of the last 25 episodes, this conversation might have gone differently—not because Annerose would have done a better job playing the part of the soothing sister/mother, but because Reinhard might not have been expecting her to. But Reinhard is naïve, especially about Annerose, so her abrupt switch from passive aggression (which Reinhard of course never picked up on) to overt hostility shocks Reinhard into a realization.

Above, Reinhard first protests Annerose’s disingenuous declaration that he has nothing left to lose, and then looks on in horror as it becomes clear that she intends to make it a true statement. But even while Reinhard listens, and responds, the gears are (visibly!) turning in his head, trying desperately to figure out what the fuck is going on. So let’s join him: What the fuck is going on?

First and foremost, I think, is Annerose’s desire for freedom. With Kircheis gone, she must realize that Reinhard’s need for her emotional support will increase astronomically. It’s one thing for her to live quietly in Reinhard’s mansion when he’s usually off gallivanting around space with his boyfriend; it’s quite another thing to share a home with someone who is grieving the loss of, as Mittermeyer so eloquently put it, half of his own self.

Because Reinhard may view Annerose as a mother, but that isn’t how Annerose views Annerose. We don’t actually know how she views herself—as I said back in episode 1, our entire characterization of Annerose is a reflection of how the world sees her—but we do know how she came to be Reinhard’s mother figure and, like her sale to Kaiser Friedrich IV, it wasn’t through any choice of her own.

In fact, this choice, the one to tell her grieving brother to fuck off so that she can finally get some time and space to herself, is the first choice we’ve ever seen Annerose make. So despite episode 26 ending on a catastrophic note for Reinhard’s relationship with Annerose, it ends on something of a triumphant note for Annerose herself: In choosing not to allow her well-meaning brother to use her as his personal grief counselor, she has finally, if perversely, reclaimed her agency.

Meanwhile, Reinhard has come to a completely different realization about Annerose’s motives:

My much earlier promise of a love triangle between Reinhard, Kircheis, and Annerose has finally come to fruition in true LoGH fashion, i.e. as morbidly as possible.

Make no mistake: The reason Reinhard asks this question of Annerose now is because it has never occurred to him before, and the reason it has occurred to him now is because Annerose is behaving in a way that he interprets as some mixture of jealous, vindictive, and heartbroken—none of which align with his image of his sister. Faced with her unambiguous and uncharacteristic cruelty, Reinhard searches around for an explanation and comes up with what would have sounded outlandish to him until this moment: romantic love.

But was Annerose in love with Kircheis? I don’t know. Frankly, I doubt Annerose knows (and we never get to see her answer, if she even gives one). Remember, Kircheis was ten years old to Annerose’s fifteen when she became the Kaiser’s concubine, meaning for most of the time they actually spent together, Annerose was basically Kircheis’s babysitter. It’s certainly possible that she developed romantic feelings for him over the years, or at least projected some romantic ideal onto him that she experienced as love. Given that he was probably the only male figure in her life besides her brother who was ever kind to her, it wouldn’t be surprising.

As a rival to Reinhard, though, my guess is that Annerose never considered herself in the running—and if anything, that would have made Kircheis an even safer object of affection for someone whose real-life experience with men was limited to a decade of blatant sexual exploitation. But that certainly doesn’t preclude jealousy or heartbreak; in that sense, Reinhard might be partially right about why Annerose chooses to act the way she does.

The accuracy of Reinhard’s suspicions, however, isn’t particularly important. What matters is that Reinhard has had this realization at all: In yet another twisted triumph for Annerose, and at immense cost, her brother has finally realized that she’s human.

Queerness

Given the reasons for the existence of this blog, it’s only fitting that we end our first season with a discussion of how LoGH treats queerness. Conveniently, this coincides with the creative team’s decision to convert a substantial portion of the show’s queer subtext into explicit text, done via multiple perspectives and narrative techniques throughout the season finale.

Our first open acknowledgement of the romantic nature of Reinhard and Kircheis’s relationship comes, unfortunately, from Kircheis’s murderer, Ansbach. The phrase “other half,” unlike much of the language used thus far to describe Reinhard and Kircheis, doesn’t have a heteronormative surface reading.

Incidentally, Ansbach’s easy familiarity with the concept of a romantic partnership between two men has always been one of the things that made me wonder about his feelings for Braunschweig—along with the fact that immediately after this, Ansbach tells Braunschweig to “wait for him in Valhalla” before killing himself.

Kircheis’s last words, too, work to remove a layer of heteronormativity from LoGH’s surface reading, albeit more subtly:

In this final, stunning example of a Reinhard-Bechdel Test failure, Kircheis uses his last breath to ask Reinhard to tell Annerose... that he kept his promise to be a good friend to Reinhard.

In a heteronormative piece of media, when a male character brings up a female character’s name in his dying breath, one would probably expect him to declare his undying love for her. That Kircheis starts his last sentence with “Please tell Lady Annerose...” and finishes it with a positive allusion to his relationship with Reinhard is an incredible subversion of heteroromantic tropes. It even goes so far as to “straight-bait,” dangling the possibility of Kircheis’s romantic feelings for Annerose in front of the viewer before categorically dismissing it.

Later, while Reinhard mourns, Mittermeyer uses similar language to Ansbach’s, above, to explain to Müller why Reinhard is in such an inconsolable state:

Like Ansbach’s usage of “other half,” Mittermeyer’s “half of his own self” doesn’t have a non-romantic interpretation to bolster LoGH’s increasingly shaky heteronormative surface reading. Also like (maybe) Ansbach, Mittermeyer is a character who (as we’ll see much more of soon) can speak from his personal experiences with queer romance, making him perfect for delivering this unambiguous message not just to other characters, but also to the viewer.

The last scene of the episode and the season finds Reinhard at Kircheis’s grave which, yet again, emphasizes his romantic relationship with Reinhard, and not just because of the inscription’s use of the singular possessive “my”:

Though the German “Mein Freund” directly translates to “my friend,” that isn’t actually how the phrase is used in Germany, where “Mein Freund” most frequently refers to a male romantic partner. The only ambiguity about Kircheis’s inscription is in how it’s translated: as わが友 in Japanese or, literally, “my friend,” obscuring the German usage and allowing it to continue to pass as heteronormative.

After placing flowers on Kircheis’s grave, Reinhard sits back, revealing that he has started wearing a locket. Opening it, he shows us that it contains a photo we’ve seen before of Reinhard with his chosen family, and a lock of Kircheis’s hair:

Season one of Legend of Galactic Heroes ends on a deeply personal note, and it also ends on a series of questions: What, or who, will Reinhard find to fill the gaping hole in his life left by Kircheis’s death? Will it be his rivalry with Yang? Other, darker questions are left unspoken, but their presence is felt nonetheless: Will Reinhard find something to “quench the thirst in his heart”? And, if not, what then?

Stray Tidbits

During this post, as usual, I’ve used gifs from the LD (original) versions of LoGH instead of their redrawn versions. Episode 26 was almost entirely redrawn, and many of the “remastered” scenes are dramatically different from their original versions, so I’m gonna give a few sample comparisons here. Kircheis’s death scene, for example, was changed to make his physical process of dying appear significantly less grisly. Below, on the left, the redrawn Kircheis’s body is still and his eyes are focused on Reinhard; on the right, the original Kircheis’s breaths are visibly laborious and painful, and his eyes are unfocused:

Below, Reinhard’s facial expressions and reactions during his conversation with Annerose were changed so drastically that he might as well be a different character. In the redraw (left), Reinhard is practically throwing a tantrum; in the original (right), Reinhard is still shocked, but keeps his composure as he struggles to process his sister’s unexpected cruelty, placing the emphasis squarely on his thoughts rather than on his feelings:

On a lighter note, the redraw team seems to have been confused (or, less charitably, offended) by this public display of intimacy between Reuental and Mittermeyer—in the redraw (left), Reuental stops Mittermeyer from standing by either touching his hand or just making a motion as if to touch his hand, keeping a respectful distance; in the original (right), Reuental physically impedes Mittermeyer from standing up by placing his hand on *draws a diagram* his very inner thigh, and leaving it there:

A small worldbuilding note: The dates on Kircheis’s grave are wrong! He was actually born in 467, not 468, according to every other marker of time in the LoGH universe.

And now for something extremely disturbing: An official LoGH-branded Kircheis roomba exists. When it’s low on batteries, it says, “I won’t be able to serve you anymore, Reinhard-sama.” Sadly, this is real and I’m not making it up.

[tumblunni]

AAAAARGH I DIE

god, TMI time of the month post again fuck whoever built this nonfunctioning uterus that i never asked for like seriously doctors i’m fuckin trans and i’m not interested in having kids and IT DOESNT WORK AND IT KILLS ME why cant i get it surgery’d out...

okay so this period is EVEN WORSE than usual aaa cos its been like a year since i last failed to predict it its still painful but i can deal with the pain if i start taking my medicine immediately once i start spotting blood, before the pain starts but for the first time in ages i overslept and woke up already in Stage 2 Horror Time with blood all over my damn pants and the Pain Knives in my spinal cord and like GOD seriously i’m so mad cos i’ve been able to manage it for so long even WITH all my fail uterus’s inconsistancies! like sometimes it starts hurting before i even start bleeding, and its never the same amount of days in between cycles. I’ve been going on the 13th for a few months, then the 7th last month, now the 10th?? And this is after like TWO YEARS of having it on the 11th or 12th consistantly, so it always landed on my birthday. I had my first non crampy birthday in ages this october!

gahhhh and just seriously FUCK its so bad i get pain not just in my uterus area but also my digestive system and legs somehow?? like the bottom of my spine gets cramps and then i lose all feeling in my legs and literally cant even walk to the bathroom anymore its like that ‘periods are a mild labour’ factoid but remove the ‘mild’ and i get this symptom more than ANYTHING ELSE! the hip and back pain and the downward pain direction thing is the biggest pain of all the many pains, gahhh its its so embarassing and gross and hard to talk about cos it means Really Bad Connected Symptoms my digestion goes NUTS for a day! i don’t just gush blood but also get super nauseous and like... ‘hey lets evacuate everything you’ve ever eaten for the last two years somehow, and also 50% of your stomach acid’. Only consolation is that its usually more diarhohea than puking, but thats not much of a consolation cos its so much harder to talk about Shit Problems with your doctor, lol. Also makes the back pain even worrrrrrse! And i cant even tell when I’m about to have a diahrhea attack or when its just regular womb pain cos it covers my ENTIRE LOWER BODY SOMEHOW, like a DOUCHE

and just fuck AAAGH the worst part of waking up with the period already started is that it takes like two hours for medicine to get digested and start working, when this thing literally gives me digestion problems. I swear the pills digest way faster if i take them beforehand! so no matter what i’ve gotta sit and endure the screaming pain for that long. like its really so severe it seems like i’ve been stabbed in my spine! but i can’t even take the knife out, there’s no damn way to relieve this pain! like i’m only even able to vent this text post after almost the two hours is up, and its still really hurting so i guess its gonna take even longer today. or i should take extra pills to get over the bigger pain than usual? i even got the caffeine plus pills thatre supposed to digest faster! (plus the general lack of energy from screaming back death, i think i’ll be able to not have the no legs working bit this time)

and just GOD i havent had this so bad since high school when i was still living with my abusive dad and he ‘didnt believe in doctors’ and was like ‘every woman deals with this and they don’t complain’ but like THEY HAVE FUCKING MEDICINE, DAD imagine a very VERY young child dealing with 24 hour full-on false labour symptoms once a damn month, and how suicidal it’d make them feel! my dad would literally walk in on me screaming in a pile of my own puke in a cinema bathroom and just yell at me for ‘causing a scene’, like i somehow was able to fake this?? and why would i even want to?? ‘yeah sure wow i definately showed him, i made myself unable to watch the movie I wanted to see’ Somehow EVERYTHING I did was a conspiracy to make him lose money, in his eyes! Every symptom of me being developmentally challenged was just me faking, and even when i had a non-mental illness with clear proof right in front of him it was still fake. But oh, HE was able to be sick sometimes, yeah! and he got to go to the chiropractor for his back issues but NOOOOO they can’t be genetic and potentially act up on someone who has a lower body related thing that happens every month... fuck I was so happy when i finally managed to get to the doctor and they gave me birth control pills! even if i had to take them every day throughout the entire month and i had to fight against my dad telling me to not take my legally prescribed drugs and instead replace them with his horrible herbal remedies that made me puke and didnt work. I had to lie and pretend i was taking them, flushing one down the toilet everyday! and OH FUCK man i wish i could still take birth control tho. that was way better cos it actually stopped the period entirely, not just making it hurt less. like seriously ive just started my period and i put a pad on for like TWENTY MINUTES and it was soaked through! aspirin and ibuprofen and etc dont stop the excessively heavy bloodbath. But like apparantly the birth control i was on was bad for people over a certain weight threshhold, so when i left my dad and was able to see better doctors more often they changed me to a different one. And also diagnosed my depression and autism and thankfully finally got me some help for that! But then recently when i moved to this new house the pharmacy wasnt able to get a supply of that medicine cos its too far out in the middle of nowhere in a terrible neighbourhood. And i say ‘recently’ but i mean ‘three years ago’. So i’ve just been taking really big amounts of over the counter pain meds and probably wasting over a hundred bucks per year, yikes..

and AAAARGH it still fuckin hurts and its been like three hours now and i think its starting to hurt worse so the meds are wearing off i need to go take the next two and try and keep down a glass of water and a slice of bread without puking GahhHHHHHHHHHHhhh fuck

[i-just-like-commenting]

Star Wars rewatch,part 1: Episode IV, A New Hope

I’d planned to write this last week, but life got busy, so instead it’s my last little May the Fourth celebration! I’m also updating my project from my initial plan; I’ve heard the animated series The Clone Wars praised so much as connective tissue between episodes II and III that I’m going to try to watch as much of it as keeps my interest (it’s available on Netflix). My schedule is thus now:

IV (May) V (May) II (June) Clone Wars (June-September) III (October) VI (October) VII (November)

General Impressions, or the Movie on Its Own

Well, Star Wars: A New Hope holds up pretty well after all these years. I was first exposed to the franchise through Muppet Babies (no, really) and I can’t remember how old I was exactly when I saw all the movies; maybe 7 or 8? It’s an engaging and exciting adventure story with likable characters and a lot of world-building that manages to be immersive without being overwhelming.

That said, the technology hasn’t aged well – by which I mean the depiction of computers, not the special effects. They have big keys spaced far apart, with tiny screens. Oh, and at some point in the future we decided the best way to transmit files was manually? And copying files erases them? I suppose perhaps they were being jammed for the former, and trying to keep up the flimsy pretense of being neutral for the latter. Still, it’s all very seventies in terms of its computer technology.

There’s also no way this movie would be rated PG today, not with the charred corpses of Owen and Beru, or that severed arm in a pool of blood in the cantina.

The Special Edition Stuff

I definitely remember seeing the Special Editions when they came out in 1997 (I was 13 at the time). Seeing the films on the big screen, especially that opening as the Star Destroyer first appears, was amazing. But even then, I knew there were changes that did not work.

Twenty years later, it’s easy to see how much Lucas overestimated the quality of CGI at the time. Machines and things left blurry in the background tend to look pretty good, but living organisms, especially if they are close to the camera, do not blend well with the background at all and look horribly out of place. Comparing it to, say, Maz Kanata in Force Awakens and you can see how technology has come a long way. Besides, a lot of the additions are completely unnecessary. A few droids floating around with the Stormtroopers? A few aliens in the background? They work. But having things walk between the characters and the camera is disorienting and serves no purpose. Mos Eisley doesn’t look bustling, it looks like they set the shot up poorly.

Nothing is worse than the Jabba the Hutt scene, which left the audience I was back then completely cold. It is truly terrible, and you can tell that Jabba wasn’t initially supposed to look like what he did. (Side note: has anyone confirmed if the design of Hutts was completely ripped off from the Regul? Because I think they were.) It breaks up the flow of Luke and Ben’s transition to the Falcon, and having Han make a deal with Jabba rather than being on the run after murdering one of his minions (“We’re a little rushed”) meshes better with him being on bounty hunters’ hit lists in the sequel.

That said, I do like Biggs having a short scene with Luke to give a little more impact to his death, though I wish there was even more.

Continuity, Part 1: Relation to the Original Trilogy

I know Lucas made a lot of changes as the trilogy went on, but I can easily believe that he had two things planned from the start. The first is that Han and Leia were going to end up together. While Luke has an obvious crush on Leia, and she’s fond of him, the banter between her and Han is more typical “romantic interest” writing. It’s also obvious that, for all of their hostility (he resents her class status, she resents his feigned mercenary attitude) they take a liking to each other pretty quickly. Han’s “Either I'm going to kill her or I'm beginning to like her” is absolutely real, as is Leia’s admiration of his courage (as he leads what could be a suicide charge, something he mocked Luke for earlier). Given that she isn’t as despondent over Han leaving as Luke is, and her remark that “I knew there was more to you than money,” it’s safe to say that her “I wonder if he really cares about anything. Or anybody,” was more an attempt at goading him into action than sincere dismissal of his character. Plus that wink. 😘

I played a little game of adding “married in the future” to a lot of their snarky lines, including Han telling Leia to “Get on top of it!” in the garbage chute. It made me giggle. I am so immature.

The other plot development that complements this film nicely is Darth Vader being Luke’s father. Alec Guinness’ acting, the way he won’t meet Luke’s eyes, gives a strong impression that he’s hiding details from him – which it turns out he was. And of course the conversation between Beru and Owen becomes all that more sinister in retrospect:

Aunt Beru: Luke's just not a farmer, Owen. He has too much of his father in him. Uncle Owen: That's what I'm afraid of.

The first time through, Owen comes across as simply a worrywart, concerned that Luke will die the way his father did if he ever sets foot off the farm. But if he knew that Anakin Skywalker had gone to the Dark Side, was one of the worst villains the galaxy, well yeah, he’d be very afraid that Luke resembled his father and want to shelter him from any chance of learning of the Force.

Continuity, Part 2: Relation to the Prequel Trilogy

That said, the relationship between Owen, Beru, Anakin, and Obi-Wan would make a lot more sense if Owen wasn’t Anakin’s step-sibling who he met only once. The convoluted connection between Luke and his aunt and uncle in the prequel undercuts everything in this film. How can Beru be an expert on Anakin’s character? Why is Owen resentful of Obi-Wan taking Anakin away if he only met him long after he became a Jedi?

If I’d been writing the prequels, I’d have made Beru be Anakin’s decade-older sister (allowing them to preserve his miraculous birth if they really wanted to go that way) and Owen her boyfriend who wants to buy her freedom and treats Ani like his little brother. Beru would be close to Anakin and Owen would have been around when Anakin left. It would raise the emotional stakes of them losing Anakin to the Dark Side a lot, too. Though maybe this is something Clone Wars tried to fix? I guess I’ll see.

After rewatching this film, I do actually buy that R2D2 secretly knew everything that was going on, while C3PO had his memory wiped. There are gaps in C3PO’s memories (he’s been in “several” battles, “I think”) and R2 obviously knows who Ben is, and again there’s a bit of an exchange between them like Obi-Wan suspects something is up.

There is one thing that the prequels do explain – why is Vader so hesitant when fighting Ben if he’s such a powerful Jedi? Well, he knows how it ended last time (with him having severed limbs at the edge of a pool of lava) and he’s being cautious.

Continuity, Part 3: Relation to the New Films

“If the Rebels have obtained a complete technical reading of this station, it is possible, however unlikely, they might find a weakness and exploit it.” And thus an entire movie was born. I don’t think I needed to have this “plot hole” filled in, but it worked out into a pretty good story, even if I desperately wanted more time to get to know the characters (who are pretty flat).

Obviously there are parallels between A New Hope and The Force Awakens, though not as much as people like to claim. TFA borrows from all the original films, and it’s impossible to draw direct parallels between the characters. Sure, Rey is an obvious fill-in for Luke, and Kylo Ren for Darth Vader, but Vader never captured and tortured Luke; they don’t even meet in this movie, which was probably according to Ben’s plan, separating himself from the group and luring Vader away from encountering his son. Beyond that, parallels start to break down. Person who sends off plans and gets caught by the villains? Leia and Poe. Only Leia wasn’t the one to destroy the Death Star…Duo who wind up stumbling on to the hero after being separated wandering in the desert? R2D2/C3PO and BB8/Finn, but C3PO didn’t defect from the enemy forces and free Leia at the start of the film, nor was he Luke’s love interest. Han is Han I suppose and Leia is General Dordana, and maybe Maz is Ben…? There’s a lot more originality to TFA than people want to give it credit for.

Conclusion: Bring on the Droid Revolution

DROIDS ARE SLAVES. That was the big gut-punch of watching it this time around. Like, how did I not see how horribly mistreated they are? They’re sold on market, wear restraining bolts, can have their memories wiped at their owner’s whim, or even “deactivated,” a fate C3PO clearly fears as much as a human would death. The cantina owner is bigoted against them, declaring that “We don’t serve their kind” and throwing them out of his establishment. Even C3PO’s attitude reflects a life of slavery: “We seem to be made to suffer, it’s our lot in life.”

Everything about droids is coded for them being an oppressed underclass, yet this has never come up in the films, ever. Are we supposed to be cool with it because they’re machines? They’re obviously sentient, though, and meant to be sympathetic. We spend a lot of time with R2 and C3PO before we even meet Luke, and them splitting up accomplished nothing other than character development.

They’re also obviously capable of emotion as well as intellect. I wasn’t joking when I said R2 and C3PO are the purest ship, they really are. C3PO is a classic tsundere character, claiming he doesn’t care about R2 right up until his counterpart is injured in battle, when he offers to sacrifice his own parts to save him. Seriously, I suspect “counterpart” is just droid for “life partner.” It may not be sexual (they’re gonadless robots for crying out loud) but it is true love, and I now ship it.

[almighty-letu]

My little test subject: chapter 7

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, and Chapter 6

Angsty Tomtord fic with slight Paultryk on the side.

WARNING! This fic contains: Foul language, torture scenes, blood, use of medical tools, drug use, suicidal tendencies, self-neglect, violence, self-harm, and a little bit of stockholm syndrome and force feeding. Viewer discretion is advised.

"Are you out of your mind?!"

Tord was leaned back in his recliner chair, feet propped up over his desk and gaze fixed on the ceiling fan of his office. His lips were pursed with both arms crossed behind his head in boredom as he suffered through one of Patrick's lectures. This time, the Polish soldier was pacing around the room and ranting on and on about his treatment in regards to Tom, all the while Paul watched the argument in the far corner of the room; fiddling with his fingers, gaze cast downwards and completely silent as if he was afraid to speak up. This might take a while.

"I can't believe you've done this! After I pulled you out of the room to talk privately, specifically told you about my concerns regarding his weight loss and to take it easier on him; you just went ahead and electrocuted him!" Patrick exclaims angrily, still pacing from one side of the room to the other.

Tord shrugged. "Oh stop exaggerating, Pat!" He sighed exasperatedly. "It was just a controlled shock; the voltage isn't even that high. He was clearly struggling against the two of you so I thought it would've been much easier if he were unconscious. No need to get your panties in a twist. Geez!"

"I don't care what you thought, because you clearly didn't!" Patrick snapped. "Tom is incredibly underweight for someone his size and age, this leaves him very frail and extremely weak. If we are not careful, we could accidentally kill him without even going through any of the procedures." He warned.

Tord blinked at him deadpanned, sitting straight in his chair. "Alright Pat, you got a point. I will go easier on him from now on." He sighed. "But if he steps out of line, I will discipline him if necessary." He warned, turning his chair to look at the mirror on his left, immediately running his robotic hand through his hair and fixing his fringe.

"For our sake Tord, I do hope so. Tom might be our last shot of success in perfecting the serum. If we lose him, the project you worked so hard on will be no more." Patrick states angrily. "I recommend we give him a special diet before the procedures, enough for him to gain back the lost weight and build up his strength to resist blood loss." He advised.

"Very well, you go on and do that. For now, we'll leave the serious experiments for when Tom has a full recovery." Tord says, still looking at his reflexion.

"I'm afraid my hands are full on this matter, sir." The soldier grumbles, causing Tord to glance at him through the reflection.

"Hmm?"

"With all due respect sir, you already put me in charge of taking care of his mental health. I am no psychologist, so I have to read everything and anything on the matter to accomplish this." He elaborated. "You, on the other hand, put yourself in charge of his overall health. If anyone should plan his diet it should be you."

Tord glared at him clenching his fists but sighed in defeat as he realized the soldier's words did have truth in them. "Fine, I will take care of his diet. You can go on with your lessons, just don't forget to check the test results for his blood and spinal tap." He murmured. "Paul, you and I will take test subject #1826 for some light physical activity tomorrow, so I suggest you come up with something for then."

"Yes, sir!" Paul saluted.

"Dismissed." Tord ordered, his back still turned to them but watched them leave his office through the mirror.

Once they left and Tord was finally alone, he dropped the authority posture and allowed himself to relax. What a busy day. He thought tiredly, walking to his chair and leaning back as far as it would go, stretching his limbs.

He opened his computer with a frown, typing in the password and gaining access to all of the base's personal files and reports. But he was not interested in any of that at the moment. He was currently more preoccupied in finding ways of recovering Tom back to his proper health.

I don't understand. How could he have gotten to this condition? He's barely just skin and bones, there is literally nothing in him. Tord thought worriedly, researching different sources and pages for the absolute best. Did he do this to himself? If so, why? I need to keep a close eye on his condition…

Tord's thoughts drifted into various directions and possibilities. For now, he will give Tom the benefit of the doubt that he just has a terrible sense of self-care, and hopefully, nothing deeper was going. But then again, he's dealing with Tom. There is also a catch.

He is hiding something, and if Tom won't admit it, then I will figure him out myself. He vowed silently.

(Later…)

Blurry images were flying through his mind, but they were so fuzzy he could barely make them out. Blood rushed through his ears, drowning out the noise; his heart hammering in his chest. Stop.

He could faintly see a few places that looked familiar to the depths of his mind. A park, an alleyway, the bar… a yellow house. Stop it.

Next thing he hears are screams; shrills of panic and horror all around him. He tries to understand what was going on but all he sees as his vision clears are people running away from something. He looks behind him but there was nothing there. He realizes then that these people were running away from him. Stop it!

He tries to plead for the people to stop, try and make them understand, but they just kept staring at him in horror. He clutched his head in distress. P-please no!

He hissed in pain when he felt something sharp poke his head. He was confused by this and slowly drew his hands down, only to discover that in place of his hands, he had sharp blood-stained claws instead. NO!

He thrashed and turned violently as he saw people get mutilated left and right. His claws seemed to have a mind of their own as they slashed through them mercilessly. I don't want this!

Blood and guts spilled everywhere. He felt immense pain coming from his jaws as his gums expanded and sharp teeth started to grow out of his normal ones. Something heavy swished behind him. A tail. His tail. He pounced on a frightened woman and tore her face off with his jaws, mauling her limb to limb. Make it stop!

But he couldn't stop it. He would never stop until the pain in his stomach finally ceased and his hunger for flesh is satisfied. His appetite has been neglected for far too long. A loud roar escaped his lips once his eye surveyed the bloodstained fields; no signs of life. Until he heard a gasp from behind him. No! No! No!

He turned around, slowly and rather clumsily due to his large size. Standing behind him with expressions of shock and horror were two familiar figures of a ginger and a brunet in hoodies. Something clicked in his mind at the recognition, but his stomach growled louder at the sight of them. Not them!

He crouched low on the ground, a growl rumbling through him as his eye narrowed at them. His huge claws raked the ground in anticipation. His mouth watered.

PREY.

NO! DON'T-!

KILL.

He pounced on them, claws raised and ready for mutilating as the two forms cowered away in fear. Next thing he knows; blood is soaking his form. His friend's blood.

"NO!" Tom shot up straight, sitting up in alarm. His eyes were wide and he started to pant for breath, trying to calm down from the adrenaline as he trembled in fright. He looked around frantic but was relieved to find everything he had experienced, for the most part, was merely a dream.

Tom breathed a sigh of relief, taking deep breaths to calm his rapid heartbeat. He laid back down staring at the ceiling. It was just a dream. Edd and Matt are fine. You did not hurt them, they are safe and sound back at home. The monster will never hurt them now.

As he gained back his bearings, Tom noticed the somewhat soft surface he was laying on top of. On closer observation he realized he was indeed lying on a bed. He looked around the place he was in. The room was plain gray with no windows or anything else really. Just the bed.

Last (night's?) events slowly but surely reappeared into his memory and he remembered how Tord played a stupid game with him before knocking him out via electric shocks. Tom huffed in annoyance. Dam commie. Didn't even have the guts to knock me out himself, he had to do it from a safe distance.

Tom noticed two doors, one positioned to his left; large and made out of steel, and the other in front of him at the far end of the bed. One must lead outside while the other was possibly a bathroom. Again, possibly… This is Tord he is dealing with after all.

Tom sat up again, his legs dangling to the side of the bed. He tried to get up when he felt a pull towards his wrist and a slight pain followed. Tom looked down and saw a thin, transparent line coming out of his sleeve. He pulled it up, the line going inside his veins. Tom followed the line, his eyes directing towards the rather large IV bag on a pole, connected to the lines.

"An IV?" Tom stared down at his wrist in confusion. They must've put that in while I was unconscious… right on my injured wrist too.

Tom didn't have much time to pull it off before the door to his cell slid open. Tom jumped in surprise, letting out a little yelp until he realized who was on the other side. The familiar silhouette of pointy hair was enough to tell who it was before Tord strolled into the room, a wide grin on his face and carrying a tray of, supposedly food with him.

"Good morning!" Tord greeted in a sing-song voice. Tom stared at him deadpanned, not saying anything just raising one eyebrow questioningly. "Hope you had a good night's rest, cause' today we have a lot to do."

Tom glared. Tord is never cheerful unless there is pain involved. Great. The Brit remained silent, crossing his arms and glaring at the other man. Tord's smile wavered at his behaviour.

"Ah, the silent treatment I see. Don't tell me you are still upset for me electrocuting you yesterday?" Tord says, earning a harder glare from Tom causing him to chuckle at their situation. "Really? Come on old pal, as if you were expecting anything different from me at this point!" Tord laughed, but slowly diminished as Tom remained silent and fuming. "Oh. So you are serious about this." Tord blinked in realization that maybe making fun of his only hope to get the serum done, especially when he is in such a condition, wasn't the best idea.

Tord sighed, clearing his throat. "Fine. Maybe I exaggerated and I shouldn't have been so quick to electrocute you." He apologized while avoiding uttering the specific words to his supposedly arch-nemesis. Patrick's words echoed in his mind. "As long as you don't try anything funny, I won't do it again. I promise."

Knowing this is the closest he will ever get to an apology coming from Tord, Tom dropped his arms with his glare turning to the tray of food the Norwegian was still holding in his hands.

"Anyways, I brought you breakfast." Tord simply says handing him the tray. "And please try not to take out the IV without proper assistance. I had it put in to help restore you back to health and I would hate it if you were to be stubborn about it."

Tom took the tray from him, setting it down on his lap. The food given was as simple as it could be: Just a bowl of bread chunks, a small dish of butter with a plastic knife, and a glass of water. Talk about generic prison food. But the food itself didn't really matter. Even if he were presented with a cheeseburger or a large, juicy steak he still wouldn't eat it. He can't risk getting strong again.

"I'm not hungry." Tom muttered, looking away while ignoring the pain in his stomach grow at the sight of food.

Much to his surprise, Tord laughed in response, looking down at him with amusement. "Patrick warned me you would use the same excuse twice, didn't think you actually would though." He stated. "To my knowledge, you haven't consumed anything in the last 54 hours. No normal human being can go on so long without any nourishment."

Tom inwardly grimaced. Dam, he is on to me. He glared up at Tord. "I don't have eyes, my parents are inanimate objects, and I currently have a super-potent serum running through my veins. I am by no means normal." He growled.

Tord shrugged. "True. But you are still human despite all of that, and you need to eat sometime." He says, nudging the tray.

Tom raised an eyebrow. "So what happened to the quality meal I was promised when taking your stupid deal?" He challenged, remembering the night Tord had come to him to hear his answer and told him of the things he would expect to get if he accepted his proposition. "If this is what you have for a quality meal, then I really don't wanna know what you have for your average one." He held a chunk of bread between his fingers, holding it up to his eye he inspected it.

Tord frowned. "I'll have you known that this is some of the finest bread that we have." He stated, somewhat offended by Tom's comment, as he held a lot of pride for his army. "And concerning the conditions of our deal, a change was in order." At this Tom put the chunk of bread down, looking at Tord curiously. The norsk sighed. "Due to your alarming condition I had to research and plan your diet carefully. So from now on, instead of two quality meals a day, you'll get plenty of small snacks once every two hours: Bread, protein bars, soups. Small but nutritious, and easy to consume."

Tom narrowed his eyes as his blank stare met with Tord's own gray one. He may know about his malnourished state, but he barely scratched the surface of Tom's condition; he has no idea what he is dealing with, and Tom plans to keep it that way for as long as he can. So until Tord addresses the issue directly, he will just play along.

Once again, Tord nudged the tray of food closer to Tom. "Well, go on and eat up then. When you are done, I'll escort you to the gym where Paul will be waiting for us." He ordered.

Tom looked down at the food in disdain. His stomach was growling but he went for so long without eating anything that he kind of lost his appetite due to his self-control. The chunks of bread didn't look particularly appetizing either.

Tord frowned, sensing Tom's hesitance to eat and figured he wouldn't do it on his own initiative. He sighed. "You know, there are still lots of questions you haven't ask me yet." He said, gaining the Brit's attention. "Tell you what: You may ask me any questions you want; I promise to answer them all truthfully. But for each question you ask me you will eat one chunk of bread in return."

Tom rolled his empty eyes, groaning in annoyance. Leave it to Tord to solve all his problems with a deal or a game. He has been for approximately three days in this stupid base and already he couldn't stand Tord or his methods. He vaguely remembers the Norwegian's ominous words from their last game. The right question? He thought. I do want answers, and I don't know when I'll get another chance to talk with Patrick or Paul on my own; or if they will even answer me then. Tom looks down at the bowl of bread on his tray, slowly lifting his gaze back to Tord; standing in the middle of the room with his hands folded behind his back.

Tom didn't want to give in just yet, his stubborn side rising within him. "And what if I refuse?" He challenged, crossing his arms and folding his legs; careful not to let the tray fall from his lap.

Tord frowned at him. "If you don't eat, then I guess I will just have to make you." He spoke, icily calm. "And believe me Thomas, I have many ways to make you do whatever I want. I am just being nice and giving you the chance to choose to do it the easy way or the hard way." Tom wasn't fooled by his calm demeanour. Tord was practically radiating anger, he just kept it in check. Tom scowled but sighed in defeat, knowing better than to argue further at this point. "So what's it gonna be?"

Tom stared at the ground, adverting his gaze. "Fine. I'll take your offer." He muttered.

Tord smiled, regaining his posture. Good, he is learning. He thought, pleased with the result. Maybe one day he won't resist me anymore and just do as I say without protest. Hopefully.

"You may begin whenever you are ready." Tord declared, straightening his back and clasping his hands together.

Tom narrowed his eyes, remembering his previous questions and the information he learned in response. He scratched his chin and hummed.

"Alright, uhm, I assume we are currently in your army base or something…"

"One of many." Tord put in. "This one is actually my main base, and the largest of all of them. Do keep going."

Tom raised one eyebrow. Geez. How many bases does he have in total? And why so many? He thought of asking, but he shook his head. Focus. One question at a time! I can't eat too much so I have to think carefully about my questions.

"Well, if this is your main base, then how come I barely see anyone around here?" Tom asks. "I mean; I saw a few people wandering through the halls when Patrick first escorted me. But how come I only seem to interact with the three of you and no one else?"

Tord grinned, moving to lean on the wall next to him while crossing his arms. "The serum project is a highly confidential plan only accessible to higher ups and with my permission. It is a very delicate procedure that I would very much like to keep it hidden from any form of unwanted attention." He explained, an edge to his voice. "So, to prevent unqualified assistance or possible traitors to get close to my last shot in this project, I made it perfectly clear to my soldiers to stay away from the lower area, which is the entire floor you reside in and we perform our experiments. Any members of the red army found wandering about the halls of this floor without direct permission from me will be-"

"Killed?!"

"Punished." Tord finished, his grin turning into a sour frown. "I may be trigger happy, Tom, but I wouldn't kill my own soldiers for a little bit of rule breaking." He paused, contemplating his thoughts. "Well… Unless they annoy or piss me off, and break the rules far too often; in which case they lose their value and become easily dispensable. And this project is a very serious issue, so now I am not quite sure what I'll do if someone were to come down here and find out…"

Tom felt an involuntarily shiver run down his spine at the sound of that. He began to wonder what kind of punishment Tord delivers to those who break the rules. Knowing how sadistic the Norwegian man could be, Tom wouldn't be surprised if it involved medieval torture methods; or at the very least some finger chopping or back whipping. And how exactly would he dispose of the "dispensable" soldiers? Tord's favourite method of killing has always been guns, but again, he is a sadistic f#ck; he most likely wouldn't settle for just a simple shot in the head. Tom's gaze drifted down to Tord's synthetic hand, currently rubbing his chin in thought. Another shiver ran down his spine. Something told him that cold, metallic hand held a lot of deaths in its grasp. And he suspected it wasn't only by choking either.

"Regardless, you will only interact with Paul, Pat, and I throughout the whole experience and no one else." Tord declared, brushing off his previous thought.

Tom snapped out of his thoughts. "So your soldiers-"

"Ahem." Tom was abruptly interrupted by Tord's obnoxious throat clearing. The Norsk was looking down at him expectantly, but Tom just stared back in confusion. "Eat." He ordered, motioning to the tray.

Tom looked down, realizing what he was expected to do. He inwardly grimaced, not feeling up to eating anything at the moment, or ever for that fact. But if he didn't, Tord would force him to do it regardless, and he doesn't need the humiliation of having the commie force-feeding him against his will. It's just best to comply.

Tom surveyed the contents of the bowl, careful to pick the smallest chunk possible. He raised it to his eye level to inspect it. The bread is brown and white with grains in it, soft to the touch and yet held a certain hardiness to it near the border. Gingerly, he stuck his tongue out to give the bread an experimental taste. Tom clicked his tongue. Tastes like bread alright.

Tord watched him in amusement and slight annoyance, doing his best to keep from giggling out loud. He debated whether he should just tell him that the bread held no drugs or poison in it, but held back. Tord decided he found Tom quite adorable when he was suspicious and wary of things.

Tom stared down at the piece of bread for a moment longer before popping it into his mouth. He chewed slowly, and rather hesitantly as he rolled the bread around his mouth with his tongue. It crunched beneath his teeth, the grains making themselves apparent. The taste was rather bland. But to Tom, who hadn't eaten anything for so long he barely remembers the last time he did, the bread tasted divine in his mouth.

Still, he did not let it show he enjoyed. "Not bad." He mumbled while still chewing.

When the chunk was gone from his mouth and descended down his throat, Tom still felt the bread taste on his tongue. He held the urge to lick his lips. His eyes unintentionally fixed back on the bowl, and his hand was ready to take another chunk but he quickly reframed from doing so. His hand twitched and he clenched into a fist in response. Stay under control. He reminded himself.

Although subtle, Tord took notice of the hand twitch. Looking at Tom's facial expression he could detect a hint of hesitation, as if he was struggling with himself. Tord raised an eyebrow in interest. Hm, seems as if he's having some trouble in containing himself. Not sure if this is his stubborn side refusing to actually enjoy something I am giving him, or something else entirely… He contemplated, rubbing his chin. I'll order Pat to have a session with him tomorrow; today if possible, and see what he can figure out.

Tom managed to repress down the urge to eat more, for now, until he could ask more questions. "So how did you get your army?" He blurts out. "Did you actually get followers or did you blackmail them into joining you?"

Tord just shot him a sly grin. "I earned my soldier's respect fair and square. They approved of my way of thinking and agreed to join the cause. My cause." He declared with pride, placing the palm of his robotic hand over his heart. "Of course, I started only with a handful of soldiers; Paul included. But overtime we recruited more members to join us, and that's when Pat came in. I never had any use to blackmail anyone."

Except for me, you dumb bastard. Tom silently added, scowling. "But how did you manage to recruit more members without being tracked or found out by the authorities?" He questions. "Like, with you being wanted and all I guess it's safe to say you didn't just go out in the open to demand more members or anything. So you probably had a strategy for this sort of thing." He pointed out, recalling the time he was walking down the street with the keys of his newly-bought apartment twirling on his finger when he found the wanted poster.

No matter how much time seemed to pass since that incident, his mind somehow always drifted to the catastrophic events of that day. Sometimes he wondered what would've happened if he had never found that poster. Would Tord have turned his rage on Edd and Matt instead? Or would he have left peacefully?

Tord's grin widened. "Very clever Tom, maybe you aren't as stupid as I thought you were." He purred in delight, motioning with his hand to the bowl once more. Tom got the memo right away and took a small chunk of bread; eating while he listened to his answer.

"Yes, I had to work around the issue with the authorities in order to expand my numbers. So we were very careful when selecting our members; only choosing those who held special skills and stood out among the rest." Tord explained. "But overtime as our organisation grew we became more open to members, but still careful in our selection to make sure we don't get any spies or undercover cops. So now we have a new system of selection."

"Which is?" Tom questioned, glancing sideways and taking note of the small tray of butter to accompany his meal. He gingerly grabbed the plastic knife and proceeded to swipe it over one piece of bread.

Tord smirked. "Our pub of course! It turned out to have more use for the army aside of just financing our organisation." He exclaimed. "We keep an eye out for frequent clients; the ones who seem miserable and have a reason to come so often. One soldier goes to them undercover, gain their trust, gets info on them, and we offer them a place in the group. If they refuse, we erase their memories from the event; but most cases they are willing to abandon their lives for this new style."

Tom swallowed another chunk of bread, rolling down his throat with great difficulty. It's been a while since he last did this. He grabbed the glass of water and took a sip, still paying attention to the details.

"But it's not just the pub that we use. All soldiers are equipped with fake names and identities so that they may interact with the outside world whenever they want. If they were to stumble upon a person of interest that fits in with our requirements, they are offered a place as well." Tord went on, seemingly not minding in giving away even the most secretive of details regarding his army. He held a lot of pride for his hard work and wasn't afraid of showing it. "Most of the people who take our offer like to delete their previous lives, either by hacking the systems or just simply faking their own deaths; taking entirely new identities as their own and committing themselves fully to the army."

Tom looked up at him. "So your soldiers are basically dead to the world." He concluded grimly.

As much as he disliked Tord and everything he stands for, including the whole army thing, he can't really blame the people for joining him. They must've had their reasons for abandoning their lives. Sure, there could be the occasional communist prick like the leader himself, but what of those people that were in a similar predicament as him? Depressed and lost. Maybe they were in the brink of death before a second chance showed up to them. Tord and the army could be bad but maybe it was the only chance these people had of living.

Tom shook the thought off his head, repressing it down. No person associated with the army deserve his sympathy no matter what their reason was. Himself included.

"Does that mean they all live in the base? Or bases, considering you seem to have more than one." Tom mumbled, taking another sip of water.

"Most of them, yes. But there are those who still hold on to their everyday lives. Think of them as the ones who have a foot in each world. The blissful ignorant world of today's society, and that of the red army's." Tord continued. "They work mostly as spies; feeding us any and all intel they may acquire during their outings, then sneak back to the base and report everything. Most of these types of soldiers have a lot of use to us with their positions: Doctors, bankers, and especially cops."

Tom nearly choked on his drink, but managed to place the glass down and swallow the liquid before it could take effect in his lungs. Tord had a lot more power than he initially imagined if he had undercover soldiers working in important positions. Even if by some miracle he were able to escape, Tom would never be able to go out again; else he will get easily tracked down and just brought back. Heck, after learning this tad bit of information can he trust anyone else ever again? After his experience with the pub, definitely not.

"Are all of your soldiers just that? Soldiers? Or are there different positions?" Tom asks, calming down before glaring daggers at the norsk. "And what about children? Do you take them in as well? I bet you brainwash them in following your messed up ways you sick, communist, bastard-"

Tord pursed his lips, narrowing his eye as he raised one finger to silence him. "Despite what you might think of me, Thomas, I do not take in children. Never had, never will. Only individuals above the age of eighteen are allowed to join. Sure there are some smartasses who think they can fool us into believing they are above the age, just because they think being in an army sounds cool. But our system never failed to detect them, and we erase their memories from the event. But we do keep a tracker on them for future reference." He explained, standing up from his spot against the wall; walking closer to Tom. "And yes, we do have other positions in the army: Doctors, nurses, scientists, engineers, cooks, cleaners, etc. Not all of the people we take in share the same enjoyment as me in going on a killing spree. Anything that can benefit the army in any way possible."

Tom followed his movements as Tord got closer to him. He was baring his teeth into a scowl and his eyeless gaze set into a glare. Tord stopped, towering directly over him.

"I believe those were four questions, so… Eat up!" Tord pointed out.

Tom growled. "I don't feel like eating anymore." In a sudden burst of defiance, he shoved the tray of food off his lap; splattering the remains on the floor. His gaze not once leaving Tord's.

On the other hand, Tord was fuming silently, anger boiling up inside of him ready to burst. He felt the urge to hold Tom in a choke hold in order to teach him a lesson for his defiance. His hands clenched, ready to lash out when Patrick's words echoed in his mind, reminding him of his predicament. Tom is his only and last shot, as much as he hates to admit it. And he can't be too rough on him or he will get damaged in his current state.

With this in mind, Tord takes a deep breath to calm down. He smiles down at Tom, taking him by genuine surprise.

"Tsk tsk, oh Tom, always making a mess of things." Tord cooed, shaking his head.

He extended his robotic hand out towards Tom, making him flinch and try to lean back; but at the same time, he didn't want to show signs of weakness and urged to stand his ground. Tord leaned closer, his hand just inches away from his face. Tom kept his gaze fixed on the Norwegian's single gray eye, completely still.

When they come in contact with each other, Tom grit his teeth and grumbled in irritation. The robotic hand ran through his hair and ruffled him. He hated the touch, it felt like Tord was possessive of him somehow. But strangely enough, it felt affectionate as well. Tom almost leaned into the touch if it weren't for the fact he kept reminding himself as to whom exactly it was ruffling him in the first place.

Tord grinned. "Well, I am glad you took such an interest in my line of work. I hope the information I provided you with was enough to change your mind about a few things." He murmured, still running his robotic fingers gently through Tom's messy brown locks. "Overtime, who knows? You might actually start seeing us as your friends. Maybe even your family perhaps-"

Tom grabbed the robotic hand firmly, halting it in its tracks as he glared up furiously. Tord stared down at the dark sockets, surprised by the rage fuelling behind them.

"Forget it, commie!" Tom snarled, pushing the hand away from him. "I might be your little test subject for your sick experiments, but I am most definitely not part of your stupid army. You are not my leader, and neither are you or anyone else around here my friend." Spitting out each word, Tom shoved him away, making Tord almost stumble back.

In the action, Tom took note how almost effortlessly he managed to shove the other one away. He hadn't felt this strong in a long time. It felt good, but at the same time he knew it was bad news.

Tord recovered from the move, staring back at the brit wide eyed. For someone who is so underweight, he sure is strong. He regained his composure, fixing the collar of his uniform while throwing a little smirk in Tom's direction. "Whatever you say." He chuckled, making Tom fume.

Tord cleared his throat, turning his back to him and sliding the door to the cell open. "Come along now." He glanced sideways back at him. "We have important things to get to. The sooner we go, the earlier we get things done."

Tom grit his teeth and rolled his eyes. "Joy." He muttered in annoyance, following Tord out the room. "Can't wait to see what kind of torture you'll put me through first."

"Oh, you'll see."