#i need to draw her doing insane actions poses. i think

[nutsack90]

im. loveher i love you mirko i

when she comes on screen i jump for joy and then i go jump ?? mirko jumps and then i

[kozachenko]

(Click the image for better quality)

Yipeeee that Keiki and Mayumi fanart I posted the WIP of is finally done woooo- This piece was a very experimental one that I'm kind of OK on. Maybe because I've just gone insane looking at it for so long and I'm my own worst critic lol.

Artist's Notes;

So I've once again been playing around with my rendering style, mainly because I have been wanting to improve my lighting for a while now and as I was just scrolling through Tumblr, I saw some of the official art for that one webcomic-turned-animated-TV-Show Lackadaisy and was immediately inspired. I also have seen a technique a few times in the past where the lineart and shading are merged together, so I've been meaning to try that for a little while.

I did some experimentation on this one sketch of Keiki I posted in my sketch dump and I really liked the results of it, so I carried those over to this piece.

I ended up scaling up Keiki and Mayumi from the original WIP because I felt like they were both getting lost in the composition, and I'm glad for that because I think it works a lot better. I'm not a fan of how Mayumi's sword turned out at all, but it's not really meant to be the focus of the piece so eh. Overall, I think I could do better with my colours, probably because with Keiki and Mayumi's colours, I did them flat in greyscale and then used a brush on the overlay blend mode to colour all of them over, after which I changed the base layer for their colours from white to yellow and then lowered the opacity so it all went together better. I also decided to use gradient maps for a lot of the background elements, mainly to experiment with getting in my values first to make them pop out more. I ended up finding a really nice sky gradient on Clip Studio Paint that I really liked, and that kinda helped to establish the colour scheme of the background a lot. I think the whole "start in greyscale then colour" thing really works better with painterly styles rather than more illustrative ones, and while it is good at making sure your values are more readable, I honestly don't think I have the skill level to pull that off yet. Honestly, I think I've been looking at this drawing too long or maybe I added too much to it, but I wish I could've made the colours less monochromatic, but I'll just save that for the next piece I do.

I do love how the flame (...well it's more of a weird space rift than anything in this piece) and the lighting turned out, those were fun to do. I was initially struggling with the flame and how Mayumi is positioned in front of it before realizing "Oh wait! This is a weird abstraction of a weird creature! I don't have to follow the laws of anatomy!" and just dislocated it's flamey bottom jaw from the main body. I also changed the colours of it since I was really not liking how incredibly bright it was when it had lighter colours. Again, the gradient maps served the more painterly style of the flames well.

I also love how Mayumi turned out. I could do her sleeves better but that's more of just me needing to study how those types of sleeves fold in that position more. I'm also very happy with the posing, the technique I used for that was taking photos of myself in the positions I wanted, blocking in the silhouette and then modifying that by adjusting it to my lines of action that I drew on top of the original photos, and then sketching over the silhouettes and drawing in the shapes of the hands overtop of the photo if I needed to get the fine details right. As for what I do to take the pictures myself, I use a tall chair I have, prop up my phone with a phone stand, put on a ten second timer and scramble to get in position. Yes, I did have to use a bunch of thin markers I had to try and get the hand positioning on Keiki's pose right, yes I do have a fake sword that I used to get the positioning of Mayumi's arms and hand right, the sword was for an old Halloween costume from several years ago. I really like how both Keiki and Mayumi turned out in this drawing, I'll have to play around with these designs for them more in future drawings.

Also, if you wanna know why I draw buildings like that, when I watched Fantasia 2000 as a kid (One of the Disney movies where they make really beautiful animations to classical music) the way they drew the buildings in the first few sections Rhapsody in Blue segment (the jazz one with the cities) changed my brain chemistry and now whenever I need to draw buildings really quickly, I refer back to that. Since the buildings aren't really the main subject, I didn't put much thought into them.

As you can tell I am very tired of this piece, mainly because I made things harder for myself by overcomplicating the process compared to what I usually do, mainly with the whole "starting in grayscale then adding colour." I'd honestly just prefer having a black layer set to colour that I can just toggle on and off when I need to see the values, but it was good to experiment. And that was mainly the point of this whole drawing, to experiment. I'm definitely going to have to play around with this new style I'm going for, mainly because I liked how it turned out a lot in the augmented Keiki sketch, and also because I want to find ways of making it suit my style more. I also really want to keep experimenting with my lighting like this, it's very fun. Last but not least I am never starting in greyscale again because dear god I do not like the workflow it forced me into. I don't have a problem with the method itself it's mainly just a skill issue lol.

If you wanna read my headcanons for these two, I put them in my WIP post, so you can read them there if you want to. The more I look at this the more I prefer the simplicity of my WIP. I might go back to this and just take away the fancy colours and effects to see what it looks like without all of that stuff and reblog this post with that drawing, but for now, I don't think I can look at this drawing again for a while.

[kagekitsuneoflight]

Hazbin Hotel criticism has been done so much by so many people about very real and serious things but I’m throwing my hat in the ring because this is something most people don’t talk about often.

Hazbin is boring and it misuses it’s setting and biblical characters/inspirations. Or rather it doesn’t use them in a way that’s actually interesting.

For a show about heaven and hell and blatant Christian setting it sure does seem to only take the aesthetics. And not even the visual aesthetics. It’s not even clear on which branch of Christianity it’s drawing from.

This is going to be done with a casual tone and it’s not very well structured because I am not being paid to write about my grievances.

Adam’s motivation as a villain is so shallow and flat. You’re telling me he’s doing this for funsies? For a laugh? Adam was made in God’s image. What does this say about the guy. For a show whose themes is about going “not everything is black and white!” It sure does make him (even visually) black and white. Which is just sooooooo. Boring. Here’s an actually interesting idea that also makes Lucifer more interesting. Adam was cast out of Eden, which was paradise on earth, all because of how Satan (aka Lucifer) tempted Eve (and thus Adam) into sin. So why not make Adam’s enthusiasm for rampaging through hell so that he’s wrecking a Lucifer’s hellish paradise in revenge? If Adam had to suffer then so too should Lucifer. It’s *Lucifer’s* fault after all.

Lets not even get into how Lucifer and Satan are technically two different people. It’s a common thing. But still if you went with Lucifer’s actual story where he’s being so jealous about humanity that he went out of his way to RUIN it all for them. it gives him more depth then him being Depressed. And loves his daughter.

It opens so much more that you can do with *both* characters. It also makes Charlie’s motivation to redeem sinners carry a more personal weight than just. Doing it because it’s right. Her dad was the catalyst! She’s taking on the sins of her father! Make her LEARN that as his child, she does not need to feel responsible for what he’s done. (And, hey, maybe have Vaggie be the one to teach her that! You know, the Angel? The one who would best be able to teach how to change from sin? And not just be “haha fuddy duddy no fun allowed” character.)

Saint Peter is in the show. Saint Peter is there. I am not going to get into Saint Peter because the implications and questions it poses is going to make me insane. And he’s probably only there because of how ingrained it is that *he’s* the one who greets you at those pearly gates. He’s pop culture Saint Peter and not the actual Saint Peter.

Now you might be wondering “what about Lilith she’s clearly going to be the antagonist in the second season.” Yeah she can still have that. We have no real basis on how much she’s done or doing. The only real motivation we have is that she wants to stay in heaven.

(My theory (aka what I think would make Lilith interesting) is that Lilith originally planned to try and outnumber and out power hell so then she could try and take paradise for herself. But obviously the yearly exterminations put a damper on the plan. I bet she was *happy* to be with Lucifer. I bet she loved her family. But she’s in hell. She’s in hell and the queen and her subjects do not respect her (if they do not respect charlie or lucifer, then they will not respect her) and when you have known what paradise on earth is, well you’d want it back. Originally you might’ve planned to take your entire family with you. But you just can’t manage it. Your husband is wallowing and tells stories but he takes no action. You start to resent him. Your daughter has heard his stories and has taken on his naïve hopefulness and maybe that’s what you loved about your husband when you fell into sin with him, but now it just reminds you of what you had and what you cannot reclaim and she looks *so much like her father* you start to resent her too. It’s Lucifer’s fault that you’re here. It’s Charlie’s fault that you stay. And then something changes. You strike a deal. You get to stay in heaven. The paradise you want.)

In a good world this is what Lilith’s motivations are. Which is a lot of words for saying Charlie should have this final “the child shall not bare the sins of the father.” Moment during her confrontation with Lilith. (This would have been something that was slowly built up during the show.)

Charlie shouldn’t be trying to redeem sinners in an attempt to apologize for her father’s actions. She should be doing it because it’s the right thing to do. (You know, for a main character, she sure does remain rather stagnant.)

What else did I want to point out the flaws for.

Ah right ass backwards way that Sinners apparently get redeemed. You are making a show about Catholicism you better get the absolute basics of it down. (We don’t know the breed unfortunately.)

Yeah so like. It should be remorse. You should be seeking out forgiveness for your sins. Not doing one selfless act and then getting killed immediately. And you can have! A very very interesting way of discovering this! You can have Charlie thinking that sinners need to become Good. (And you know, What Is Good.) She could confuse Goodness with Niceness. She could think that so long as they just Stop Being Bad, they get into heaven.

You can have Charlie lean into the whole Fire and Brimstone levels of Being Good. And then have to unlearn that! Angeldust (just using him as the example) Isn’t a sinner because he does sex work and drugs. He is a sinner because of whatever he did to get into hell. He needs to feel remorse for his *actual* sins, and seek out forgiveness before he gets redeemed. (from heaven, ig. Who the fuck is god anyways is god going to be a twink. is there a god? if not then wHY IS SAINT PETER-)

(TAKE NOTES. This is a great way to explore a character’s backstory beyond what’s told via Word of God (a la vizzie) and squinting at the aesthetics and motifs of a character and guessing what they did.)

Being redeemed through remorse can also carry a conflict! Let’s take one of the most morally reprehensible characters on the show. Valentino. Let’s say he has a sudden change of heart. Not a halfassed one. (It has to be REAL to make it an actual conflict). He realizes that what he’s done is vile, evil and reprehensible. He seeks out forgiveness. It is granted.

Because the only forgiveness you need (for Christians) is the forgiveness from god. (or heaven?? Ig?????)

Is there no sin that is beyond forgiveness? Is there no one beyond redemption? Is that whole all encompassing love from god schtick actually real, not clickbait?

I don’t know. Hazbin Hotel doesn’t want to get that deep into it. Because they just want to do a Heaven Bad????? Hell Good???? Or maybe???? Both are Bad and Good??????????? Story.

There is a lot more that I can nitpick and offer criticism to, or simply go “hey wouldn’t this be better?” To with this series. Because I think the concept can work really, *really* well. But it falls so flat on its face that it’s become concave.

[determinedwriter]

Whumptober 2023: Day 20: “You will regret touching them.”

Note: The idea for the plot was inspired by the first mission listed in this TikTok

Ro

Peter and I are on normal neighborhood patrol today as always. Nothing too interesting happens on simple patrols like these. Except for the occasional petty theft or community service stuff I like to do.

I’m definitely more into the simple stuff than Peter is. I like just helping people, even if it’s just helping an old woman carry her groceries. It can be oddly fun to do things like that. But Peter is a lot more into the action. We haven’t had any of that for a while now.

Be careful what you wish for.

Peter swings atop a building and I follow him with my power of fire flight, landing beside him. “Anything to report?” I ask.

“Other than returning a stolen tip jar and webbing up the guy that did it? Nothing.” He replies.

I cross my arms and smirk. “I don’t know, I’d say that’s pretty productive.”

Peter kisses my cheek. “What about you?” 

“I took pictures with an Avengers fan. He was super into the costume.” I strike a pose dramatically. “And who can blame him?”

“Does he know The Flare is friends with Spider-Man?” Peter teases.

I giggle, kissing his cheek in return. “He seemed like a fan, yeah. Had merch and everything. It’s pretty wild.”

Peter puts his mask back on. “You know what, I’m gonna go take a picture with this guy.”

“You’re funny, you know that?” I tell him. “Hurry back and we can stargaze or something before my curfew.”

He smiles. “You’ve got it.”

Peter leaves and I watch him swing away like an acrobat. “Hate to see you go but love to watch you leave.” I joke to myself.

After a while, I hear my phone buzz and take it out of my bag, expecting it to be Peter. But it’s Dad. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Why is Peter’s suit tracker off?” He immediately asks.

“Oh uh, I’m not sure. He’s not with me right now. We were just gonna hang out but he’s talking to some big Avengers fan I met. He’s got a cosplay armor hand that looks like yours. It’s pretty funny. I’m not sure why he’d switch off his tracker. I can go look for him.” I explain.

Dad pauses and sighs. “If your tracker goes dark, I swear to God, you better not get kidnapped.”

“Understood,” I reply. “See ya, Pops.”

Hanging up the phone, I put it in my bag and leave it behind on the roof, beginning my fire flight around the city. I don’t see Peter anywhere so far. “A.R.I.E.S?” I ask my AI.

“Yes, Aurora?” She chimes back.

“Call Peter Parker.” I request.

“Calling Peter Parker,” A.R.I.E.S. replies.

The seconds go by as it rings with no answer, leaving me anxious. “I know his tracker is offline, but…can you help me scan a signal? You know I know how to hack.” 

“You sure do, Miss Stark.” She muses. 

My AI is adorable, I have to say.

I cease flight, landing on another roof. “Signal found.”

“Bingo,” I say to myself. 

Tracking the signal to an old warehouse, I stay as quiet as I can, entering a room that looks like an obsessive shrine to the Avengers. There’s replica armor, photos, newspapers, and even some alien-looking tech all displayed around a glass case with Peter inside of it.

He looks like one of those pinned-up, dead butterflies in a frame. I suppress a scream, knowing not to draw attention to myself. “Oh my God, Peter…”

Please be just unconscious and not dead. Please.

Running over, I press my hands to the glass. Maybe if I can break the glass and get him out of here quickly enough, I won’t have to fight anyone or get into any trouble with this insane collector.

Wishful thinking, I know.

“A.R.I.E.S, contact my dad. Tell him exactly what’s going on here and send him my location.” I say.

“Aurora, I can’t seem to get a signal.” She tells me.

I gulp. “Do what you can, when you can. I’m gonna need some help here. But I’m not leaving Peter alone.”

“Will do,” A.R.I.E.S. says.

I break the glass, making a loud crash. Gotta be quick. Peter falls forward and I catch him, removing his mask. “Come on, come on, wake up. Wake up, Peter. We have to get out of here.”

His eyes open. “Hmm…Ro?”

“Hey. Hey, babe.” I gasp in relief, taking my mask off to kiss him. “I love you. We’ve gotta hurry and get out of here, okay?”

Peter blinks, slowly becoming more aware. “Right, yeah. This dude is freaking crazy. I’ll tell you more later. We-”

He pauses. I recognize these pauses by now, knowing he must be sensing something with his Spidey sense. “Ro, we have to go now. I mean now.”

Looking around, Peter looks confused, putting his mask back on. I do the same. “Where are my web shooters?”

“I don’t know. We have to get out though. Before-” I’m interrupted by a repulsor beam narrowly missing my head.

Turning around, I see the super fan. “I knew you’d come. I have a display case for you too.”

The repulsor beam comes from a replica Iron Man arm, the fan holding a gun in the other hand. “I won’t kill you. Not yet. I haven’t found out how to preserve bodies. But soon, I’ll have all of the Avengers on display.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. Just let us leave.” I reply calmly. “Please.”

The fan puts some kind of plugs in his ears before quickly pressing a pen-shaped device. It makes an ear-splittingly shrill noise, causing both me and Peter to collapse, suddenly unable to move.

He approaches us. “Sonic taser. A Stark Industries beauty. Only prototypes were made. Never widely produced. It was considered…unethical. I couldn’t believe when I was able to acquire it. It’s a rarity and while it’s not an Avengers-related collectible, I made an exception for this.”

I am dragged across the floor and put inside of a case like Peter was when I first arrived. I am powerless to stop him, completely paralyzed by the sonic taser. Peter is put into a case across from mine.

The case is extremely claustrophobic, making me want to panic. As the minutes tick by, the fan ties us firmly to the cases. God, please tell me that A.R.I.E.S. has been able to alert my dad. Or anyone, really.

We are both eventually able to move, tied tightly to the velvet-lined cases. More like cages. “Please, stop.” I groan weakly, my body still not fully recovered from the effects of the device. “You can still stop this…”

“I don’t want to stop. I just want to keep you in your pretty little frames here. You both look so…perfect. I do have to know…” He reaches for my mask and removes it. “Wow…the Flare is a little girl.”

“I’m not little.” I spit. 

“What about Spidey?” He asks, removing Peter’s mask. 

The fan laughs. “Spider-Man, huh? More like Spider-Boy.” 

Peter rolls his eyes. “You called yourself a fan of the Avengers. I’d say you’re more of a freak.”

“I’m the freak? What about you, crawling on walls? And you, shooting fire from your hands?” He argues.

“What’s your plan here? You’re gonna leave us tied up until we die?” I ask.

“Long after that. I’m hoping to preserve your bodies somehow, like I said if you were paying any damn attention. We’ll see how it all pans out though, kid. What’s your name? Your real name?” The fan rambles.

“None of your fucking business.” I snap.

He shakes his head in amusement. “That’s how you’re gonna play this? Alright.”

He rummages through a drawer of unorganized gadgets. “Let’s see.”

The fan takes out a simple-looking black stick that zaps with electricity when he presses a button. “I have all kinds of S.H.I.E.L.D and Hydra devices too. You’ll soon learn to fear all of them. Or maybe you’ll get used to the pain. We’ll see.”

Peter struggles against his binds. “You will regret touching her.”

“Is she your little girlfriend? Hmm?” The fan taunts.

He glares at him. “You’re insane.”

“I’m a collector.” The fan corrects Peter. 

“No, I’m pretty sure you’re insane,” I argue. “Not that you’ll listen to either of us.”

The fan takes the stick pulsing with electricity and presses it to my skin. “AH!” I scream in surprise, not expecting it to hurt quite so much.

“No…” Peter gasps. “Stop. Stop!”

The fan powers down the device and claps his hands together happily. “This…this is amazing.”

“If you’re such a fan, why are you hurting us?” I ask.

He laughs as if it’s a stupid question. “I want to see how much your bodies can take. You know, considering you’re Earth’s mightiest heroes.”

I gulp nervously. “Yeah, sounds like something an insane person would say. I think Spidey is right.”

The fan looks me in the eyes. “You remind me of Stark. Your attitude…and you have this look about you. Tell me, are you related to him?”

“No.” I lie. “But I get that a lot. You’re not the first.”

He studies my face, likely trying to figure out if I’m telling the truth. “Well…alright.”

“But Tony knows I’m here,” I say. “I alerted him before I came to help Spider-Man over there. Your time here is running out, pal.”

The fan chuckles. “Some help you are.” He taunts. “Besides, Tony’s never fought someone with an array of Avengers weapons before.”

“I guess not,” I admit. “But that tech? He knows how to work it better than any of us. You know I’m right.”

He pauses, expression momentarily betraying his tough exterior. “Tell me your name.”

“Tell me yours.” I counter. “Is it like, super nerdy? Does it fit the wannabe badass thing you have going here?” 

The fan grabs my neck. “Tell me. Now.”

I don’t know if there would be any negative ramifications for telling him my name, but I don’t want him to win. I’m not about to let that happen. Knowing my name gives him more power than I’d like to give this jerk.

I shrug. “Does it make a difference to you?”

He grins. “I’d just like to know. I’ll even tell you mine. It’s Dan. Now what’s yours?”

“It’s kinda funny you thought that would work.” I chuckle.

“The fact you’re still laughing…shows me I clearly haven’t been cruel enough. This is just the beginning.” He taunts.

I refuse to show my fear. “Yeah, okay.”

Peter looks at me and suppresses a grin. I bite my lip and Dan turns to Peter. “You think this is funny? Huh?”

I shut my mouth, probably being at fault for that gnarly hit. “Sorry.”

He gives me a reassuring look, cut off by a second hit to his face. Dan grins wickedly. “You’re head over heels for her, aren’t you?”

Peter gulps. “The rest of the Avengers are gonna come here and rescue us, you know.”

Dan slowly nods and crosses his arms. “Yeah, yeah. Whether or not that’s true, I don’t really care. Why don’t you tell me your name, boy?”

Keeping his mouth shut, Peter’s expression turns to stone. Dan turns to me, pulling a cord tightly around my neck until I start to suffocate. Peter’s eyes widen and he shouts. “Hey, stop!”

“Just tell me your name. It’s that easy.” Dan taunts.

“Peter!” He yells back. “It’s Peter!”

“Peter what?” Dan doesn’t free me from the cord yet.

“P-Parker!” Peter exclaims. “Now take the cord off! H-Her lips are blue!”

Dan doesn’t budge. “What’s her name?”

He looks at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry. I have to tell him. I-It’s Aurora. Ro…”

Peter knows he wants my last name too, but hesitates. “Stark. Aurora Stark.”

Dan releases the cord from my neck and I gasp. “Y-You fuck.”

“Stark, huh? I’ve heard rumors, but…I wasn’t sure it was true. Tony Stark is a dad.” He teases me. “You really are a rare collectible yourself, aren’t you?”

“I’m a person.” I spit.

“A mutant.” He corrects me. “But I don’t hold that against you. The Avengers with powers impress me the most. I can’t believe I have two enhanced heroes in my own collection. Look at me now.”

“My dad is going to find this place and kill you,” I tell him.

Dan proceeds to light a cigarette and press it against my skin. “Hmm. Nothing. I suppose I should’ve guessed that.”

“Yeah, dipshit.” I laugh. 

“You want me to burn the boy instead?” He asks me.

“No,” I reply quietly.

He ramps up the burning, setting my hair on fire. My skin and hair are normally completely fireproof because of my powers, but this seems to have a strange effect. My hair crumbles to ash until the flames reach my scalp and I force my body to extinguish.

Peter’s eyes get watery. “Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

“I’m fine,” I reassure him.

“Engulf yourself in the flames,” Dan tells me, holding a lit match to my palm. He knows I can harness it and grow the blaze. He knows I can surround myself with fire without it hurting. “Do it or I’ll burn your boyfriend alive instead.”

I take control of the flame immediately, the fire spreading from head to toe. This doesn’t hurt me. Not at first.

But the longer he makes me do it, the hotter it seems to become. I’ve never done it for extended periods of time before. Not without breaks. And not while held captive with Peter right in front of me.

Dan sees my skin start to get a little red, my fire-resistant suit starting to break down. “Keep it going.”

“You’re hurting her,” Peter says, voice shaking. “You have to let her stop.”

Dan smirks. “I don’t think I will.” 

Whimpering and wincing, I try to stay strong. Peter shouldn’t have to see this. “My dad’s gonna come here and…and…”

A wave of pain jolts through me and I let out a little yelp. “You’re a d-dead man…”

“I think you’ll be the dead one in due time. I just want to see how long you can stay ignited. After that, I’ll preserve your body like I said.” He explains.

So I guess I’d better stay alight. Or I really am dead.

Minutes slowly but surely tick by, my injuries getting worse. I didn’t know this was possible. But my entire body is now starting to seriously burn and scar. “You’re f-fucking crazy.”

“You know, that’s really getting old.” Dan mocks.

“Just leave her alone…leave her alone.” Peter pleads.

“I don’t think I-”

Dan is cut off by the shattering of glass and my father himself flying in his armor. Finally, finally to our rescue. He and Dan shoot repulsor blasts in unison, causing them both to tumble several feet backward, the explosion of light shattering both Peter and my glass cages.

I’m set free, but fall on the floor in front of me, unable to catch myself. It knocks the wind out of me. “Oof!”

The commotion around me is mostly blurry. All I know is Dad is here and Peter is free. That’s what matters most.

Dad has quickly taken down our captor, hesitating as he reaches for me. “Ro, what…how did this happen?”

I must really look awful. “He made me…d-do this. If I’m engulfed for too long, it…does this. He said if I stopped then Peter would…would…”

“It’s alright.” He reassures me. “I don’t want to hurt you but I need to get you out of here so you’ve gotta be strong for me, okay?”

“It’s bad.” I say matter of factly. It’s not a question. Bad is probably an understatement. “I-Isn’t it?”

Dad locks eyes with me and I see the worry. The fear. “Nothing I can’t fix. I fix things, remember?”

“You do.” I murmur, comforting him rather than really worrying about myself. 

“Eyes on me.” He instructs me firmly. “If you drift off, I swear to God I’ll ground you.” 

“So no dying or my phone gets taken away?” I ask.

Dad grins at my wisecrack. “Bingo.”

Grimacing as he lifts me, I cry out. “G-God!”

“I know. I know it hurts. You’ve gotta just hold on for me, okay? Wrap your arms around me and hold on tight.” He tells me.

“O-Okay.” I whimper. “I just want the pain to stop.”

Dad carries me out of the warehouse, Peter not far behind. He’s in much better shape than I am, but he won’t stop worrying over me. “Hold on, Ro. I’m right here. I’m so sorry.”

Body aching, I curse myself for letting tears fall. It makes my burned skin hurt more. “It h-hurts so badly. I-I can’t breathe.”

Dad cradles my head and its burned scalp. “I’m getting you outta here, kiddo. I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go.” 

“Please don’t…” I mumble, head spinning. 

My eyelids become heavier until I cant keep myself awake any longer, coming in and out of consciousness as I’m brought to the hospital and treated. Bandages, medicine, IV’s, tubes, and muffled voices flash in my mind.

When I’m fully awake, I see Dad holding one of my bandaged ones. “D-Dad?”

He looks at me with tears in his eyes, quickly blinking them away. “Oh, thank God. You scared the hell out of me.”

“Same.” Peter says, holding my other hand on the opposite side of the bed. “But you’re gonna be fine.”

I exhale shakily. “I don’t know how my powers did this.”

He grins bittersweetly. “Powers are weird.”

“You can say that again.” I groan.

“I can’t relate. My superpower is my IQ.” Dad teases.

“And your insufferable arrogance.” I chime in.

“That’s right.” He replies quickly. “You know me so well.”

I sigh. “I knew you’d come to save us. It happened so fast…I didn’t want to leave Peter there alone. I had to…to…”

Dad very gently touches my shoulder. “It’s alright. I know. And you were right. The moment you went dark, I knew I had to find you. I’m just so sorry it took so long. That place was surprisingly well hidden for a warehouse.”

“A warehouse full of Avengers weapons and memorabilia.” I point out.

“And glass cages made for humans.” Peter adds. “Makes sense he would hide all of it. But he wanted to keep us both captive until he…figured out how to preserve our…erm, bodies.”

Dad shifts uncomfortably in his seat, showing how much the thought bothers him. I take his hand. “It’s okay. You got to us in time.”

“Yeah.” He mumbles.

Despite continuing to talk and make occasional wisecracks, it doesn’t make things feel too much better. My burns are pretty bad and I haven’t dared to try and use my powers again since. My body is too weak and too wounded.

Bruce and Dad both brainstorm ways to help with the scarring, Dr. Cho helping with some synthetic skin grafts as she’s done before. It’s not fun, to say the least. But having my dad and my boyfriend with me helps these treatments be less horrible.

I’m alive. I guess that’s what counts at the end of the day.

But I’ll never forget the way I got these scars no matter how much they fade.

[antiloreolympus]

7 Anti LO Asks

1. Do you know what really gets my blood boiling about this comic? Persephone and Demeter's relationship.

In the myths, Demeter and Persephone loved each other more than anything. Their reunion is so important - it marked the coming of spring and growth. A whole cult was dedicated to this for crying out loud. Yes, the myths were far from perfect, but the Persephone and Demeter myth showed the strength of a loving mother-daughter relationship with Demeter searching endlessly to find her child that was ripped away and had her innocence forcibly taken.

Now, RS is not the only author to make Demeter this over-bearing mother type in order to put more positivity onto the Hades-Persephone relationship. However, RS takes this trend to a whole new level - to the point where I would even consider it misogyny.

How is it, she takes this beautiful mother-daughter relationship and makes it out to be an abusive and controlling one, and then takes the Hades-Persephone relationship from a forceful one to a loving, perfect relationship with no problems? How is it ok to ruin one relationship to elevate another?

I understand that many versions of the myth try to downplay Hades' actions, and even make it so Persephone actually falls in love with him and there is no rape. But it doesn't change that this relationship was problematic, and meant to represent the loss of innocence.

Then fans have the gall to claim this comic is feminist and then claim on top of that that Demeter and Persephone's relationship was the same in the myth? These fans clearly don't know the myths, and neither does RS.

Making Hades a good person is fine. Changing it up a bit to make Persephone's loss of innocence something else is also fine. But ruining Demeter and Persephone's relationship? Especially when Persephone has to spend half the year with her? So horrible. 

2. im sorry, but rachel cant introduce KRONOS coming back and then dropping it for several episodes to focus on a stake-less trail and persephone not knowing what lingerie to seduce hades in. like thats too much of an earth shaking development and huge stake plot point to just ignore for months to focus instead on something as minor as hxp's relationship, which only points out a huge flaw: why is hxp's relationship so minor in this? isnt the whole point supposed to be about them?

3. I think LO completely dropped the ball over Hades’ characterization. 

From the first ep I thought ok, this is good, we have some bones to see he’s not that lucky in love and is just tired and lonely, and while ignoring the creepy actions towards Persephone, I thought ok, Artemis hates him, Hestia hates, even Ares hates him, maybe once Persephone finally sees the underworld and probably gets to know him it’ll be a clever twist and they’ll be proven wrong. The underworld will turn out to be fair and just, the citizens will love Hades, he’ll be revealed to be a good leader and king and not like his brothers, it’ll be like everyone saying Hades of myth isn’t actually that bad, and it’ll help reinforce why this sweet and bubbly Persephone wants him, she sees the real him, not the mean rumors and assumptions, this is perfect.

And then it just didn’t happen. The exact opposite happened, actually.

We’re shown the LO underworld is cruel and unjust, where the poor dead are forced into slavery and Hades created a harsh class divide with him and him only on top, the citizens hate him, the underworld gods don’t trust him and openly seem ok if he’s taken out of power, he’s not a good leader and king and doesn’t even want the job yet keeps it for his own ego and grip of power m, and on top of it all he is just like his brothers, if not worse. He loves to get violent over any little slight against him, he hoards wealth and resources to enrich himself while his citizens starve and struggle to survive, he’s corrupt, he controls all the media and laws to bend to his will, sleeps with his brothers wife for centuries behind his back while claiming to be holier than thou, he has sex with his secretaries who are made dependent on him for any way to survive, and now he lusts after his barely legal intern who is also now dependent on him for her way to survive, and that’s only what I remember off the top of my head.

LO perfectly set up to prove Hades isn’t the devil or the false pop culture assumption that he’s evil and to show some actual facts from myth, and yet Rachel only ended up reinforcing exactly that and even making him even worse with her made up ideas, all while thinking having Persephone ignore or excuse it somehow makes it not bad or even a good thing. It’s honestly kind of impressive just how bad of writing that actually is. 

4. Chapter 172 is not that interesting. It’s setup had me excited to see Hephaestus and Hera and learning more about echo, but it’s cut so short. Because again the story can’t leave HXP out for 2 seconds.

I can also see why Zeus is gonna go insane. 

5. i agree w/ other anon. LO should have pulled a PJO or a BoZ and just made up OCs and have them interact with the gods than whatever Rachel thinks shes doing, which is lying she's being accurate and faithful while completely changing all of it, removing what is needed, and adding what isnt so that it lines up with no actual myth besides like, various 50 shades fanfic she read in 2015 and some popular tumblr text posts.

6 . the animation studio behind blood of zeus literally can only draw one face for the men and one face for the women and they were still able to make the gods all look distinct and hot while LO can't even bother to use more than 6 colors and can only have the women look as tiny as possible with the biggest boobs while the men are all just lego men.

7. ////FP SPOILERS////

Okay so like I stopped reading LO way back before season 1 ended, and a majority of my knowledge of the series comes from what I read here on your blog which is enough for me lol and I decided to read the latest 5 chapters just to see what's up (on zahard. I refuse to give the actual series any views)

And I just. Could not take the whole scene with Daphne running from Apollo seriously? The anatomy and art inconsistency was so distracting that i genuinely could not find it serious. Even when Thanatos discovers her hibernated body I couldn't take it seriously because of how she looked?

And when Hades had that call (??? Was it a call? Or his inner dialogue? I couldn't really tell ngl) with Zeus and said he's causing Persephone unnecessary distress, and that she didn't pose any threat. B!tch??? She killed a ton of mortals??? She has no control over her powers???? She's literally a fugitive for the aforementioned things??? She apparently woke Kronos up? (Idk if anyone knows about that, again my knowledge only spans to whatever I read here) Hello????

And I have a lot to say about the chapters starting the trial but I'll only mention one thing; Hades saying "I don't think blindly supporting my little brother would be doing him any favours (as a ruler)" had me cackling. This is coming from a guy blindly supporting a girl he's literally only known for a few weeks, who's like what, only recently turned 20? Sit tf down Hades you're not cool, you creepy ass overgrown smurf.

Overall I still hate this series lmao. Regarding art though I feel like I wouldn't be so miffed about the anatomy much if the character designs were consistent and the story was compelling. They literally change hairstyles and body types frame by frame, and it's distracting.

The timeline from what I read here is laughable. 4 years in publication with almost 200 chapters and you're telling me only like a month has passed canonically. That's wild and such poor writing.

And as someone who literally will sympathise with any lead character pretty quickly, the story makes me hate them. It makes me want to root against them. I also hate the fact this trash is somehow top ranked on webtoons when so many other stories are far better then it.

Anyway, many thanks to this blog for existing and allowing me to dump so much text here to vent out my hate for this series lmao. You the mvp fam, hope you're having a good day 🥂🥂🥂

[here4theheartbreak]

A Calculated Risk (VHope)

⭒ AO3 Link Here!

⭒ Relationships: Hoseok x Taehyung ⭒ Genre: fluff, strangers to lovers ⭒ Final Rating: General Audiences ⭒ Word Count (Chapter): ~5.1k

⭒ Tags: fluff, getting together, strangers to lovers, anxious Hoseok, art student Taehyung, pre-slash

⭒ Summary: When Hoseok sees the crying young man on the plane next to him, he wonders if the calculated certainty of his life is really worth the loneliness.

⭒ A/N: This fic was written for our lovely sunshine Hoseok’s birthday!

Hoseok was good at staying out of trouble. He kept his head down, his nose out of business that wasn’t his, and his hands clean. It was how he’d gotten to become the youngest sales manager in his company. At twenty-six, it was unheard of to be such a powerful figure in the industry. Yet there he was, flying to a variety of countries, meeting with powerful men and women, convincing them to sign up, make contracts, do business. He liked his job okay. He did it well, he was charming, and he enjoyed being the face of a business that did good things for the world. But a part of Hoseok felt like there was something missing. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Rather… He knew what it was, but he didn’t want to know. He was lonely as hell. Random one night stands in a variety of hotel rooms that started to all look alike across the continents, a series of failed relationships with every gender and sex – most of them summing up to a singular thing. You’re too nice. There was never any excitement in Hoseok’s life, and he liked it that way. Excitement, the unknown, these were variables that did not turn out guaranteed positive results. And that’s what Hoseok’s life was built on. Taking risks was not in his vocabulary.

So, when Hoseok found himself seated next to the stunning young man with dark eyes and big ears on the way home from Canada, despite that fact that he desperately wanted to say something… He remained quiet. And he intended to remain quiet the entire way back to Korea. It was for the best. This man looked like a risk taker. Someone that Hoseok could never make happy. 

Hoseok let his eyes slip shut, tapping out a rhythm on his arm rest. They’d been in the air for about an hour, and the young man had been staring at his phone the whole time. Easy then, to avoid contact, he figured. 

He heard a sniffle, and grimaced; hopefully the boy wasn’t sick. He couldn’t afford to catch cold. He’d need to pick up some vitamin c just in case. Another sniffle, and a shaky sigh. Hoseok scowled. He cracked one eye and peeked over. 

The young man was still looking at his phone, his blondish hair hanging down. But in the part of his exposed face, Hoseok could see tear tracks; he’d been crying. He was crying. 

Hoseok shut his eyes again, his mouth forming a fine line.

‘Stay out of it, Hobi. Not your problem. Stranger on a plane. Stranger danger. Avoid risk. Crying handsome boy is a risk.’

“Are you okay?” The words were out of Hoseok’s mouth before he was even aware of asking 

The boy looked over, sniffled, and nodded. His chin began to quiver and he shook his head no, but quickly yanked his hood up over his face, pulling his knees to his chest. 

“I’ll be more quiet,” he whispered. His voice was low and rumbly, immediately sending chills of the good variety down Hosoek’s spine.

“No, I—That wasn’t it. You just look sad. Can I help?”

The boy shook his head no. “Just a breakup.”

Hoseok winced. “I’ve been through a lot of those,” he whispered, nodding. “I know you’ve probably heard it a lot from friends, but it does get easier.”

“I know. I’m sure it will. I just can’t believe I was so stupid… Coming all the way across the world to see him and he just—” He broke off. “Sorry.”

“No, continue.”

‘What are you doing, Hoseok. This is a risk. Risks are unnecessary in your life. Stop it.’ “It helps to vent sometimes. And we have plenty of hours.”

The boy nodded and chuckled weakly, swallowing hard. “He—We met online. And we hit it off and he promised… He promised me so much. So I saved up for years while we dated.. To come to Canada. To meet him and he just… One weekend and he dumped me.”

“Did he say why?”

“He found someone else. Someone who lives there. Turns out he’s been dating him for about six months… Didn’t tell me.”

“Oh God, what an asshole,” Hoseok muttered, his face twisting up in anger. “That’s fucking low, if you don’t mind me saying. Sure, breakups happen, but to be cheating, and to not tell you before…”

“He said he only wanted me to come so he could try to get a threesome in before we broke up. Figured I’d be happy to get his dick in real life once.” The boy gasped then and closed his mouth fast enough that his teeth clicked. “Oh God, I’m so sorry – that was way too much information.”

Hoseok chuckled. “A bit, but it’s okay. You didn’t sleep with the jackass did you?”

“God no, I’m not wasting my time. He can sleep with his creepy little affair on his own.”

“Good on you.” Hoseok hesitated before sticking his hand out. “My name’s Jung Hoseok.”

“Kim Taehyung. Are you from Korea?”

“Mhm, I live in Seoul. I was in Canada on business.”

“Really? What do you do?”

“I work for a company that helps supply hospitals with different equipment. We have contracts with a lot of countries. I go and sorta try to sell them the products, make sure they’re happy with what we’re doing, contracts, deals, all boring stuff.”

“But you get to travel? All over?”

Hoseok nodded. “Pretty much. It’s one of the perks of the job. Busy, but it’s nice to be on the move. What about you? You look pretty young.”

“Says you. All that stuff, sounds like you should be forty.”

Hoseok chuckled. “I should be. I’m lucky to have this position so young. I’m twenty-six.”

“I’m twenty-four. I just finished college. Art school. So… I’m unemployed.” Taehyung shrugged, looking down at his lap. “My friend says the coffee shop he’s working at is hiring, so I’ll check that out when I get back to Seoul.”

“What kind of art do you do?” Hoseok asked.

“All kinds, mostly drawing and photography. Uh…” Taehyung turned and grabbed his carry on. He pulled out a large black binder and held it up for a second. “You probably—Is this weird?” He asked.

“What?”

“I’m a stranger to you. You don’t really care about this. Or me…”

“I saw a handsome guy crying next to me. And, in talking to him… He stopped the tears. I care.” Hoseok held out his hand, letting Taehyung hand him the binder. He went through it page by page, blown away by the talent he saw encased in thin plastic sheets. The young man had an eye for detail, and for beauty. His photography in particular was absolutely stunning. Everything from piles of rocks to buildings to people, both posed and candid. His drawn art was unique and abstract, making Hoseok turn the book this way and that to really take in everything that was going on. 

While he looked, he could feel Taehyung watching him, and could nearly sense the anxiety rolling off him. He cared what a stranger sitting next to him on a plane thought… It was sweet, and sad. 

He finally closed the book and handed it back. “You’re only twenty-four?” He asked. 

Taehyung nodded, chewing his bottom lip. “That work is stunning for your age, Taehyung. You’re really going to go a long way. I encourage you to look at companies you might not consider originally. Bigger tech companies and others that may not delve into the arts. They’re always looking for designers and photographers, and I bet your portfolio would really impress some of them. It’s probably not what you want to do long term, but a contract with a powerful company could really get you moving in the right direction. At least get you some funding if you wanted to do your own business or something similar.”

As Hoseok spoke, he could see Taehyung’s smile growing. It warmed his heart. Taehyung’s phone buzzed on his lap and he looked down, the smile that Hoseok had just put there drooping. 

“The dickhead boyfriend, huh?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Taehyung emphasized, and Hoseok nodded. “He’s trying to make up with me.”

“And what do you want?”

“Him to go the fuck away. Forever. He broke my heart, he’s not allowed to do this.”

“Then ignore it.” Hoseok shrugged. “Turn off the phone. Let me buy you a drink.”

“Wh—What?” 

Hoseok motioned to the stewardess that was making her way down the aisle. “Let’s keep your mind off the jerk, at least until you land. I’ll buy you a drink and we can watch some movies together.”

Taehyung smiled again, his eyes seeming to be searching Hoseok’s face for something. Hoseok motioned to the waitress, handing over his card. “I’ll have a beer, if you have any, and then whatever my friend here wants.”

She nodded. Taehyung smiled shyly. “Uh, I—I’ll take uh… Something sweet?” She nodded. 

“I could make you a pineapple rum, if you’d like, it’s pretty sweet.”

Taehyung nodded as well. “I like pineapple.” She handed Hoseok his bottle and his card back after popping the cap off, as well as a cup to pour it in if he wanted. She set to work mixing Taehyung’s drink and passed it to him as well before continuing down the aisle. Hoseok reached out and tapped the screen in front of Taehyung. 

“What genre gets your mind off idiot boys? Whatever you want.”

“Uh—I don’t know. I don’t watch movies that much, I guess…”

“Hm.” Hoseok flipped through the screen. “Not romance… Not drama. Tragedy. We could do comedy? Uh.. Action. Uh…” 

“That one,” Taehyung pointed at an image of a cover. Hoseok hesitated. “That’s horror.”

Taehyung nodded. 

“You like horror, eh?” He clicked it, trying not to sound as panicked as he felt. Good to know he figured – more proof this insane… Whatever the hell he was trying to do… Wouldn’t work. Those who liked horror took risks. And risks—

“I hate horror,” Taehyung said. 

“So why watch it?”

“Because it’s scary and I hate it. It’ll keep my attention so I won’t be thinking about him.”

Hoseok hesitated, thinking for a moment. He had to admit, it was pretty sound reasoning. He nodded. 

“Do you have headphones?”

Taehyung pulled out a handful of wire from his bag and nodded. Hoseok waved over the stewardess. “Do you have a jack splitter?” He asked. She nodded and dug around for a moment, handing one over to him. 

“Thank you.”

They got set up with the splitter and Taehyung pulled down the window shield. Hoseok lifted the arm rest so they could sit a little closer, sharing the same small screen as the movie began. Hoseok hated horror so much. Within twenty minutes he was gripping the other armrest, his leg bouncing nervously. Taehyung had moved almost direction against his side and was gripping his other arm tightly, his eyes wide as he stared at the screen. 

Each jump scare Hosoek and Taehyung would both jump, sharing a nervous glance and a giggle afterward. 

Hoseok reached up at one point, taking Taehyung’s hand and twining their fingers. When Taehyung blinked at him, he smiled. “Easier to squeeze if you get scared. Less likely to scream.”

Taehyung grinned that bright grin again and nodded, looking back at the movie. 

They made it through the rest of it, jumping and squeezing each other’s hands. Hoseok finished his drink and was tempted to order another, but figured sobriety would be an easier state to tackle scary movies in. When it finished, Taehyung reached out, finding the sequel and grinning at Hoseok. 

“Another?”

Hoseok hesitated, but nodded. That smile… It was something else entirely. The way his heart picked up a few beats when Taehyung rested his head on his shoulder again, twining their fingers on the seat between them. The waitress came by and smiled softly. “Can I get you two anything?” She asked. 

“We’re okay, I think. Taehyung?”

“I’m good. Thank you,” Taehyung smiled up at her and she nodded. The two turned their attention back to the film. 

Six hours and three sequels later, Hoseok heard a soft snore. He shifted as gently as he could to see, smiling a bit when he realized Taehyung had fallen asleep on his shoulder. His heart still did that little pitter-patter. This was a problem. How could he let himself fall for a guy he’d just met? A guy who was willing to fly across the world to meet a stranger? A young, handsome guy who probably took risks like Hoseok changed socks and thought that going out without properly re-lacing his shoes every morning was totally acceptable. As Hoseok sat in silence, no longer needing to focus in order to potentially distract Taehyung as needed, his mood soured. 

What was so wrong with him that people wanted nothing to do with him? He was safe, sure. And he was peculiar… But he wasn’t a bad man, he thought. Just because he didn’t take risks didn’t mean he was no fun. Or wasn’t a good person to be around. But time and time again that was the message. Not good enough. Not fun enough. Not exciting enough. 

And this – this foolish idea that had begun formulating in his head, the fantasy that maybe this young man would be willing to give him a chance – it was frivolous at best. It was an unnecessary risk. The statistics, if Hoseok were to crunch them, were sure to show that the chances of Taehyung saying yes were low enough, staying with him beyond one date even lower, and staying with him long term statistically insignificant. So he was best just getting it out of his head now, before it sat and festered like a wound. 

The film ended, as the others had, with a “dead” monster and a jump scare to leave it open, and Hoseok was too unhappy to even startle. He tugged the earbuds out and turned off the screen, sinking down a little to try and rest. And – despite his bitter mood as he drifted off to sleep – he couldn’t help but notice just how nice Taehyung felt on his shoulder.

Hoseok awoke with a good, hard stretch, blinking up at the roof of the plane. “Rest well?” Taehyung’s voice was soft and deep, and Hoseok felt goosebumps rise to his skin.

“I did. Did you?” He asked. 

Taehyung nodded, leaning his head on the back of the seat. He shifted over and pulled his legs up into the seat so he was facing Hoseok directly. “Do you have a partner at home?”

“A what?”

“You know… Boyfriend or girlfriend.”

Hoseok shook his head. “Just me on my own. I work too much for dating.”

“Not true, necessarily,” Taehyung argued. 

Hoseok half smiled. “That, and all my exes have told me I’m too boring.” He reached out and tapped the screen; fifteen minutes until they were set to land.

“Boring?”

“I don’t like unnecessary risk,” Hoseok explained. “I don’t like being surprised and I prefer to plan things so that they will – in as much statistical assurance as they can – go in the right direction.”

“I don’t see that as such a bad thing.”

Hoseok laughed. “You’d be one of the few. Most leave because I’m just too safe.”

“Sometimes people… Some people… Need safe,” Taehyung argued. He rested his chin on his knees. “I need safe.”

“You’re quite wounded,” Hoseok agreed, wondering if he was reading between the lines in the way Taehyung meant – or if it was wishful thinking. 

The two sat in a comfortable silence as the plane descended. At least Hoseok figured it was comfortable. He was anxious, as he tended to be in social situations where he wasn’t sure what the other party was thinking. But Taehyung seemed relaxed, sitting next to him, flipping through his phone. Hoseok wondered if he was reading messages from the ex, or someone new. Did people move on so fast? He didn’t know. Usually other people asked him out, and he calculated the risk based on how well he knew them – not the other way around.

The two got off the plane and headed to the luggage carousel together, not purposely, but also not purposely straying from one another’s side either. As they waited, Taehyung looked over.

“ Am I right in thinking you’re gay?” He asked abruptly. 

Hoseok blinked, hesitated… Then nodded. “You are.”

“And single. And a sweet guy who helped a crying stranger on the plane.”

“Wouldn’t you have?”

“I don’t know,” Taehyung admitted, shrugging. He snagged his suitcase from the belt. “Let me give you my phone number.”

Hoseok took his own bag. “Why?”

“So we can go out on a date.”

Hoseok smiled sadly. “Taehyung…”

Taehyung’s smile drooped a little. “Oh. I misread.”

Hoseok shook his head. “Yes and no. You are a handsome young man, and I do find you interesting and fun to listen to. But we don’t know each other. And because of that, I can’t calculate the risk of going out with you.”

“So why not get to know each other? That’s what the point of dating is.”

“True. And I could, except even only knowing you for this short time… I can say with relative confidence that you would have minimal interest in me beyond a date or two.”

“And why is that?” Taehyung asked. 

“I’m not your type.”

“Shouldn’t I decide that?” Taehyung chuckled. “You’re cute, nice, independent.”

“And utterly boring. While you’re the type that watches horror movies to feel better, and flies across oceans to meet a stranger in the hopes of finding true love. I could never take such risks. Or any risks, really. That’s why I’m not good for you.”

“Yeah, well look how good taking risks did me.”

“This time, maybe. But that’s the thing about risks. They can end badly. I don’t like that. I don’t like things ending badly.”

Taehyung sighed softly. His head drooped a little but he nodded. “I wish that wasn’t your answer, but I appreciate you being honest.”

Hoseok smiled weakly. “Look, Taehyung. You’re young, you’re handsome as hell, you’re talented. You’ll find a person to treat you right. That’s a good match for you.”

“I hope he’s like you, honestly.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know enough to know you’re smart and thoughtful. I hope he’s the type of person who’d help a crying stranger on a plane.” Taehyung reached out and grabbed Hoseok’s wrist. He gave it a gentle squeeze. “Risks are scary, but the only way to truly be happy sometimes, is to take them. Just remember that. You took one today and you changed my whole mood – Possibly my whole week. Risks don’t always end badly, but you’ll never know unless you take them.” He let him go and sighed, pulling the handle up on his bag. “Have a good life, Hoseok. Maybe I’ll see you around one of these days.”

“Same to you, Taehyung. Keep your chin up.” Hoseok watched Taehyung walk off before heading off himself. Strangely, as he rode the bus back to his apartment (he’d calculated that the bus was far safer at this hour as opposed to a taxi), he felt… Not so sure about his decision with Taehyung. 

He’d weighed his options, and saying yes to Taehyung had seemed like the riskier option. And risk equaled bad news. That motto had always worked for Hoseok. So why did it feel so bad?

As the days passed, turned into weeks, Hoseok thought less of Taehyung. He sometimes wondered where he was, what he was doing, if he found a good job or a nice boyfriend. If he ever thought of the strange, kind stranger on the plane who turned him down in the airport. Doubtful, Hoseok figured. He wasn’t memorable enough.

Whenever he did think of Taehyung, a small, painful knot formed in his stomach. The internet had said it was probably cancer, as those sites are apt to do, but his best friend, a med student, had ruled it as simply regret. Impossible, really, Hoseok didn’t have regrets. That was the great thing about calculating risks. He was confident in his choices and therefore had no need for regrets. Except this one, maybe.

Two and a half months after Taehyung and Hoseok had departed the airport, Hoseok was having a bad day.

He’d woken up late – something he never did. He’d been forced to take a bus because it was safer than a taxi at the hour he’d be on the road, but it also made him an hour late. On the way to his office, briefcase and coffee in hand, he’d tripped – having tied his shoelace haphazardly – and spilled his coffee down his front in an attempt to prevent himself from face planting into the wall. Which meant a trip to the nearby mall – this time walking distance – to get a replacement shirt, seeing as he had a presentation… That he was three minutes and fourteen seconds late to. 

After the fiasco of the presentation, Hoseok sat outside for a few minutes during his lunch, attempting to re-gather his bearings and finish his day strong. It was working too. He felt calmer, he felt like the rest of the day would be great. Just a quick pop over to one of the quick eateries to grab a bite before his lunch hour was finished. He flipped his wrist to check the time, scowling when nothing but tanned skin peeked out of his shirtsleeve. Right. He’d forgotten to put on his watch in his rush this morning. No problem, the world was technologically advanced for a reason. He opened his briefcase and pushed some papers around, hunting for his phone. It was tucked away in the pocket. And absolutely dead when Hoseok tried the power button. 

He huffed and snapped his briefcase shut. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” he called to a middle-aged woman walking across the sidewalk in front of him. He bowed politely. “Sorry to bother you, but do you have the time? My phone is dead.”

“Oh, of course. It’s one forty-three.”

Hoseok’s eyes bulged. He scrambled to his feet, startling the woman.

“Sorry!” He cried, bowing again. “Late back to work. Thank you so much.”

He rushed off toward the office once more, feeling even more frazzled than when he’d left for lunch. How had he sat there for a full hour and fifteen minutes nearly? He never lost track of time like that. His days were simply too busy. 

Hoseok berated himself as he turned into his office building. How had his day turned out so badly? He hadn’t done anything different the night before. There was no change in diet or weather or season or schedule to throw him off. So what the hell was going on?

Hoseok was so up in his head that he failed to see the young man turning the corner as he did. The two collided, and Hoseok went down, skidding on his butt as his briefcase, not shut firmly from his earlier panic, opened and scattered papers across the hall. The man in front of him swore then gasped as he fell as well.

Hoseok looked at him, his eyes bulging. “Taehyung?!” He spluttered. 

Taehyung gasped, yanking his headphones from his ears. His hair was shorter, a little neater to his head, and he was wearing a nice dress shirt and slacks. He had a black binder under his arm. “Hoseok!”

He scrambled to his feet, setting the binder down and going to help Hoseok gather the papers.

“How have you been?”

“Good, what are you doing here?” Hoseok asked, piling them back in his briefcase. 

“I’ve got a job interview. I mean I had one. For my art. This place is looking for a new marketing team member and I thought my photography and art might be good. Plus, I’ve improved my computer art skills too. What about you? Why are you here?”

“I work here,” Hoseok said, standing up straight and brushing himself off.

“No way, what a crazy coincidence,” Taehyung said, grinning. “They really liked my stuff.”

“We’re in desperate need of some fresh blood in that department,” Hoseok agreed. He hesitated, his heart doing a strange little stutter step now that they stood so close to one another. 

“How have you been?” He asked after a second.

Taehyung smiled a little distantly. “I’m okay. I got over the breakup. Took some time, but I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah? Found a new partner?” What a strange feeling, Hoseok thought. That clench in my chest. I hope it’s not heart trouble…

“No, still single.”

Ah, it’s released now, probably just a fluke from my crazy day.

“I see,” Hoseok replied lamely. 

“And you? Found someone perfectly safe?”

“Not really looking,” Hoseok admitted. “I mean, not opposed, but… I tend not to ask people. Ah…” He shrugged awkwardly. “When do you find out if you get the job?”

“They’ll call me later this week.”

“Ah, good. Well. Maybe I’ll see more of you around then. Must be going now…” He hesitated once more before moving past Taehyung toward the stairs. Taehyung grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“Hoseok… The airport. When you refused me…”

Hoseok swallowed hard, lowering his gaze. 

“I’m glad you did. I needed time to recover mentally from the breakup and get myself back together.”

“Good. I’m glad. You’ll be all the better for it.”

“But,” Taehyung pressed, still not letting his wrist go. “But I haven’t stopped thinking about you. And my interest in you hasn’t faded.”

“Taehyung…”

“I don’t want danger right now, Hoseok. I want you to know that. I want calm. I want peace and relaxation and a steady, firm ground. Someone to support me, that I can support just as much. Someone who isn’t going to go wild, and would rather stay inside playing a board game or snuggle on the couch with a good action movie than go run a marathon. Just so you know.” Taehyung let him go, his face pinching for a moment. 

Hoseok hesitated, not sure how to respond. His hesitation must have told Taehyung something though, because Taehyung tugged a pen out of his pocket. He walked over to the entrance desk, thankfully unmanned for lunch, and snagged a sticky note from it. He scrawled on it and slapped it into Hoseok’s palm.

“It’s a risk. I know that. But think about it. I’m free this week… Pretty much all week.”

Hoseok nodded, taking the paper. “I will. Be safe… The cars…”

“I will. Enjoy work.” Taehyung put his earbuds back into his ears and grabbed his portfolio before he headed out the door. 

Hoseok watched him go before looking at the sticky note in his hand. Taehyung’s number was written on it, along with his name. Hoseok’s chest clenched again, and his stomach knotted up in that little twist. So maybe he did like Taehyung. He sighed and tucked the number into his pocket before hurrying up the stairs to try and get some work done before he ended up staying late. 

Unfortunately, the events of lunch did not lend themselves well to an atmosphere of hard work and focus. Hoseok’s mind kept drifting. To Taehyung, to the number in his pocket, to what he’d said. He wanted safe. He described exactly the type of man that Hoseok was. Safe, boring in the eyes of so many, and said that was his ideal. Was he being honest? There was no reason for him to lie, really, Hoseok figured. So why not be honest. Would it change? Maybe. Probably, if he was being honest with himself. Most of the time humans did change. But was that such a bad thing? 

Of course it’s a bad thing. Change is uncalculated… Change is a risk.

“Shut up,” Hoseok whispered to himself. He scooped up his desk phone and dug Taehyung’s number out of his pocket.

Taehyung picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Is this Taehyung?”

“Hoseok? Yeah it’s me.”

“I’m free tomorrow night. I thought I’d be free tonight but… I seem to be quite distracted and will likely not be leaving the office in time for dinner.”

“Tomorrow night,” Taehyung repeated. Hoseok could hear what he thought was a smile in his voice. “Dare I suggest… I could pick you up something for dinner. If you wanted. Since I know where you work.”

Hoseok hesitated. What if he was late tomorrow because of it? What if he couldn’t sleep? What if he said something silly to Taehyung because he was tired? “I—”

“Too big of a risk?” Taehyung offered.

“Yes. I’m sorry. Was this a mistake? I’m so strange.”

Taehyung’s laugh was bright, and Hoseok’s heart skipped a few beats. “You’re not weird. You are. But I like it. Tomorrow night is fine, but please remember to eat tonight, okay? Even if it’s something quick. You’re going to feel worse if you don’t.”

“You are likely correct.”

“Is this a cell phone?”

“No, office… My cell phone is dead.”

“Well, when it charges, why don’t you text me. You can pick a place, I’m not really all that picky about food except I don’t like super spicy things. We can decide the best way to meet up and the details then, or tomorrow morning and afternoon. Does that work?”

“That sounds good. Very planned… Thank you for being patient and understanding.”

“I want this to work out, Hoseok.”

Hoseok hesitated. “I’d say… It’s a calculated risk.”

“How are the rewards?” Taehyung asked, a grin in his tone. “Do they greatly outweigh the risks?”

Hoseok smiled a little to himself. “No. Frankly, they are… Probably pretty balanced. But with great risk comes great reward, or whatever the daredevils say, right? This reward seems too good to pass up.”

“And what reward is that?” Taehyung teased.

“Oh, one of a kind. A beautiful boy. Even better, one that is okay with me being weird and boring.”

“Sounds like a good reward.”

“I agree. So… I’ll text you when I get off work and charge my phone, okay?”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

“Goodnight.” Hoseok hung up, staring at his phone for a moment after he did. What a risk. That was a huge risk, who was he kidding?

He turned back to his computer, working on spreadsheets while going through a mental list of good restaurants for a first date. It was a risk, no denying that. But sometimes, every now and then, the reward is worth the risk.

[gabby297]

Saudade - Chapter 2

|| Prologue || ||Chapter 1 ||

Summary: "Saudade" - A nostalgic longing for a person or thing that was loved once, but is now lost.

Helmut Zemo's life was forever changed when the Avengers picked his country as a personal playground to fight their own creations. He would never regain the pieces of his life where he was a husband and a father of two. But the existence of new Super Soldiers might just bring him closer to that life he once had than he ever thought was possible. Madripoor holds secrets that even Baron Zemo does not know about.

Word Count: 10k

Helmut followed in some sort of a daze, not focusing on the turns that they took as they made their way to Selby's office, barely seeing the money that was piled up on the tables and the armed men that stood guard on seemingly every corner. No, his mind was miles away, trying to comprehend what he heard mere minutes ago.

"What the hell, man?" Sam hissed right by his ear as he overtook James. "You almost blew us."

"Apologies." Was all that he could muster up to say, looking straight ahead. What else could he really say? That for the briefest moment he thought he heard Nic's voice? That if he shut down the logical side of his brain even for a second, he would admit that's how he'd imagine she would sound like now? That he, not even seeing a woman's face fully, picked her as an example of how his girl would look like? Maybe being locked up for few years with nothing but books and solidarity brought him closer to insanity than he liked to admit.

Helmut barely heard Le Petit Homme by Edith Piaf playing over the speakers as they finally approached Selby's office. The woman in front of them turned back. Her brown eyes landed on him for the briefest second and knocked the air out of his lungs once again. Was this a trick of some sort? Power Broker trying to get under his skin, render him useless? Helmut doubted that he would care enough to go to such lengths, but there had to be an explanation. Sure, he knew that theoretically there were around seven people in the world who could look similar to Nic, but his gut instinct was sending him red signals. That this was too much of a coincidence for him to cross paths with a lookalike, in Madripoor of all places, the one time that he was looking for information himself. No, something was wrong here. He couldn't get distracted, couldn't let some lowlife distract him with the face of the dead. He spent most of his life trusting his instinct. The one time that he didn't, he spent days digging through the rocks of a collapsed building.

The woman took a couple of steps behind him, attacking his nose with a sharp, earthy scent that had just a tiniest floral undertone, and stopped in front of Sam. She invaded his space, leaving no distance between them. Helmut followed her actions with his eyes, noticing that James straightened up and he shook his head lightly in a warning. There were too many eyes watching them. She reached for Sam's neck and Helmut was nearly certain that James would lash out. He could tell by the way that he was clenching the prosthetic arm, that the man was considering it. Whatever they thought she'd do, they didn't expect for her to simply unbutton the top button and straighten his collar.

"Are you really going to make me wait for my own guests, Nic?" Selby's sweet voice almost made him jump up in surprise. He clenched his hands in the pockets of the coat, wrapping his fingers around the hard handle of the ka-bar knife he still had in his possession from the army days. A coincidence. Nicoletta, or any similar version of it, was simply a popular name. It wasn't his Nic. Definitely not the girl he buried years ago. Just one big, fat coincidence. He was even prepared to entertain the idea of it being a futile attempt by someone to distract him. In his mind, he knew that. He only needed to convince his heart that hadn't stopped racing from the moment she spoke.

"Of course not." Her voice rang out, making him inhale sharply. She ran her fingers through the suit jacket and with a smirk moved in front again. Right. There was no time for mistakes.

Nic moved out of the way, allowing Helmut to cast his eyes on Selby. She had her back turned to them, sitting comfortably on one of the couches. A power move. She was not threatened by their presence. Not that he could blame her, there were four security guards in the room alone, all holding assault rifles. No doubt more were ready to barge in at a second's notice.

"You should know, Baron. People don't just come into my bar and make demands." Selby said as she tapped her fingers against the couch. Helmut gave her a tight-lipped smile and a small nod as he moved to sit down in front of her. Two of the men stood by the wall beside them while James and Sam moved in to stand on either end of the couches.

"Not a demand. An offer." He elaborated, getting comfortable on the couch. He crossed his legs, his foot landing on the edge of the short table that was in front of him. He noticed a couple of bags lying on the table with a clear powder and a Grand Power K100 semi-automatic pistol within a hand's reach, positioned in a way that she could easily grab it. It was a cat and mouse game. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Nic walked over to the table behind Selby's couch and turned her back on them.

"A lot has changed since you were here last." She took a glance at James before turning back to him. "By the way, I thought you were rotting away in a German prison. How did you escape?"

A lot of things might have changed during the years, but he could tell that she did not. All sweet and smiles, hoping that he would fall into the false sense of security that she loved to provide. That he'd spill his secrets or slip up and give a reason for her to doubt his intentions for the visit.

"People like us always find a way, don't we?" Helmut dodged her question raising his hands in a shrug. The more that he could get away with leading her in circles, the better. "I'm sure you've already figured out what I'm here for."

His smile faltered ever so slightly as Nic came back in the view, moving past James to sit down on the couch. She had taken off her mask. He blinked twice to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks with him. Sure he had moments during his imprisonment, in the dead of night where he had nothing but his own mind to keep him company. Moments where he could almost imagine Ivana's soft touch against his face and see his children in a flash between one moment and the next. If he concentrated enough, he could've heard their voices. But this was different. This was too real to be a figment of his imagination, no matter how vivid it could be. Whoever she was, she looked identical to his Nic.

He bit inside his cheek, irritating his mouth even more as Nic planted herself beside Selby and mimicked her pose. It was so much harder to keep his composure when she was right in front of him, watching his every move with those same shade of brown eyes that Ivana had.

With her sitting opposite of him, he had a chance to take a closer look at her. The chopped off blonde hair barely reached her shoulders. Unlike the majority of the people in the bar, she did not wear makeup or attire suitable for such a place. Instead, she wore a pair of jeans, a high collared crop top, and a rust-colored leather jacket with a hood.

Swallowing he looked back at Selby, determined to keep his attention to her. He was after the information that she had, he needed to concentrate on that. Not on the hypotheticals.

"So many people with offers and deals these days." She grinned, moving her hand to rest on Nic's shoulder. "Like this one. Promised to look over the bar for a good sum and yet did nothing but drink while your friend had fun trashing it. I feel cheated really."

"The agreement was for me to look over the bar. Not to fight for it. There's a difference…I think." Nic deadpanned but didn't move to get the hand off her. Helmut could feel her gaze burning holes in his skin. He readjusted his pose ever so slightly, hoping to get rid of the feeling entirely if he moved a couple of muscles. It didn't work.

"Funny thing aren't you." Selby chuckled and leaned to grab one of the small packets off the table. "Be a dear and make yourself useful. Our friends in Azimut are offering a share for B163.9. I think they're blowing smoke up my eyes but I was in a good mood that day. Tell me what you think."

Helmut clenched his jaw and shared a glance with James. The longer they stayed, the more difficult it would become to maintain their cover. The opening snap of the bag brought everyone's attention back to Nic. She shifted in her seat, pulling a key out of her pocket.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what she would do next. Helmut cleared his throat and picked different points of interest to look at around the office. He resisted the urge to shift more in his seat or start tapping his fingers. Whatever the young woman was, his stomach rebelled at the thought of watching her snort the powder. Her appearance alone was too close for him to clearly draw the line and separate the two girls. It didn't matter that his Nic would never reach the age this woman in front of him was, would never end up in a sleazy office in Madripoor, snorting God knows what. It didn't stop his blood from freezing in place and a massive pit forming in his stomach.

Helmut settled on looking at Selby instead. He had to concentrate on her or else he wasn't sure if he could keep the content of his stomach in place. It was too similar, too close to home for his mind not to start messing with him with the 'what if' scenarios.

The ride home was dead silent. Helmut was sure that if he clenched the wheel any harder, the leather surrounding it would rip and break. The bright beam-lights of Ivana 's Range Rover Evoque lit up the road in front of him as he sped through the empty streets. He was grateful that there was no other cars around as he wasn't completely sure that he wouldn't murder someone on the spot given the chance.

"Daddy?" Nic pulled his attention from the countless racing thoughts in his head.

"Hmm?" He frowned and tilted his head towards her, not taking his eyes off the road. He needed to concentrate on something else.

"Are you mad?"

"No." Sometimes you had to lie to your children to protect them. He was quite familiar with that concept. Certain matters were best kept hidden. Truths of what his job really entailed, the rumors of human experimentation in outside city facilities, reasons why their country was always on a brink of war or governmental collapse. So what was a small lie about how he felt compared to the never-ending list of half-truths and outright lies he told?

"Are you sure?"

"Don't close your eyes. You'll only make yourself dizzy." He changed the subject instead. He cast a glance at her curled up on the seat and with a sigh, placed his hand on her shoulder. He squeezed it in a warning. The last thing he needed was her freaking out if she started to feel sick.

Helmut had only needed to take one glance at her and instinctively know that it wasn 't just alcohol running through her system. He didn't need proper lighting to know her pupils were still blown out of proportion or look at the way she grounded her jaw to confirm his suspicion.

"I feel sick."

"I bet you do," He muttered under his breath, too low for her to hear. Nonetheless, he pressed down gently on the brakes bringing the car to a smooth stop. "Let's get you some air."

Nic clumsily reached for the door handle and pulled it hard enough that it slipped from her grip and made a loud noise sliding back in place. It took her few tries to actually pry the doors open.

Hearing the door shut, he closed his eyes and leaned further into his seat. Dragging his hand over his face did very little to help him relax the tension that slipped into his bones ever since he answered her call. He could already feel the beginning of a migraine forming.

Helmut sighed deeply and unclipped his seatbelt. He couldn 't let her leave his eyesight for too long. Who the hell knew what she could think of doing in the drug-induced mind. Clearly, there wasn't much thinking involved that got her in this state in the first place. He had to swallow the urge to demand for answers that she most likely would not be able to think of. 'Later', he had to remind himself. They needed to get home first.

Helmut walked around the car from the back and found her sitting on the gravel with knees pulled to her chest. Even with his jacket over whatever it was that she was wearing, she was barely covered. He had no doubt that the gravel that dug into her skin would be painful tomorrow. God, that was never how he wanted to see her.

Slowly crouching down, he put his hand on her shoulder again, feeling it shake under his touch. He brought his other hand into her hair, and stroked it lightly, in an attempt to calm her down. Of course, she ended up freaking herself out. That was what tended to happen when you didn 't think your actions through. Hearing her breath hitch, he forced any emotion he might have felt to leave his voice and moved in closer, dropping down to one of his knees. The gravel was a bitch.

"You're fine. Look at me," He moved his hands to cup her face, tapping her cheek lightly to keep her attention on him for long enough to calm down. "You're okay. Don't work yourself up. It will pass."

She gripped his shirt and lurched herself into his chest, almost knocking him backward. Grunting lightly, he wrapped his arms around her shaking form and let her destroy his shirt with makeup, tears, and snot.

"Come on, mom is waiting for us at home." He encouraged her softly and kissed the side of her head. "I'm sure she has some tea ready for us. That sound good?"

He felt her nod against him and waited a couple of moments before pulling away.

Getting her inside and not waking the entire house was another feat. It seemed that she was hellbent on being as loud as humanly possible. Even with him supporting most of her weight, she found ways to almost trip or knock something off.

"Hey," Ivana greeted them as she stepped from the kitchen into the hall. Her eyes widened at the sight of them. "Whoa."

"Mom!" Nic half screamed into his ear, making him wince in pain.

"Nic!" He hissed in warning. He was this close to snapping entirely. "Carl is asleep, don't be loud."

She turned and looked at him with a wobbly lip and eyes sparkling with tears. Helmut swallowed, feeling the pang of guilt pass him. No, he had no reason to feel guilty. But just because he knew something logically didn 't mean that her expression didn't pierce through his heart.

"Here, I'll put her to bed," Ivana interrupted approaching them and wrapping one of Nic's arms around her shoulder, taking some of the weight off him. "You take a breath."

"I'm fine." He bit out harsher than he meant. Taking a breath in, he glanced at them. "Give a shout if you need help."

It took him longer than a moment to actually let go fully and let Ivana take over. Rubbing his neck, he walked up the stairs to their shared bedroom and dug through the drawers of his bedside table until he found a half-full packet of cigarette carton with a lighter shoved inside.

He took it and walked out into the balcony, leaving the door half-open behind him. He closed his eyes as he brought the bud to his lips and inhaled the smoke deeply into his lungs. Only then could he feel his shoulders releasing some of the tension that he carried. He eventually reopened his eyes, not really looking at anything.

"You're smoking." Helmut eventually heard Ivana behind him but didn't turn to her. At least she didn't sound annoyed.

"Yeah," He mumbled as she joined him and leaned against the railing. "I'll take a shower before I come back to bed."

"I'll let it pass for tonight." She looked him up and down and slightly arched her eyebrow. "Although, do make sure you throw that shirt into a wash. I don't even want to know what's on it."

Helmut could tell she was trying to lighten up his mood but he wasn't sure it was possible at that minute. There were too many emotions swirling under the surface. He wasn't a stranger to saying something in a heat of a moment and then regretting it as soon as it came out of his mouth. Half of their early arguments as a new couple consisted of that. So he kept his mouth shut until he got himself under control. Ivana understood his needs, sometimes more than he did himself, and let him brood in his own misery until he finished his first cigarette and tossed it away.

He sighed deeply and finally turned his head to look at her. She stood beside him in a rich blue, silk dressing gown and some fluffy slippers. For a moment he wondered if it wasn't too cold to stand on a balcony in the middle of the night. A twinge of guilt passed through him. He didn't want his own restlessness to make her cold.

"Am I away from home that often? Going through abandoned bunkers, this. Is this some sort of cry for help or attention? What else don't I know? She secretly dating a fifty-year-old man too?" He pondered, the words rolling off his tongue the moment he opened his mouth. Perhaps he opened his mouth too soon. He stretched out his arm, going for the carton that he threw to the side but she blocked it and took his hand in her own instead.

"She messed up." Ivana agreed quietly, rubbing her fingers against his knuckles.

"She's fifteen, lied where she was, drank and got high off her rockets. I think it constitutes more than just a mess up." He barked out. Fuck. He needed another cigarette.

Untangling his hand free of her hold, this time she didn't stop him as he reached for the carton and pulled out another cigarette before lighting it up again. After a couple of moments of silence, he swapped hands and extended his left for her to hold again. He needed something to ground him.

"I'm not disagreeing with you, love." She reminded him, lacing their fingers together. "But she did call you when she felt unsafe. That counts for something."

"So what? We should congratulate her on making a single sane decision in the mess that she created herself?"

"No one is saying that, Helmut. But maybe you are being a bit too harsh," Ivana said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. He leaned further against the turning in their balcony, exhaling harshly the smoke out of his chest, causing his throat to burn. "She is a teenager after all. They are not exactly known for making the best choices."

"I'm not too hard on her. If anything, I'm clearly not hard enough on her. Hell if I called my father after pulling these kinds of stunts he would have skinned me alive for disrespecting the family name."

"I'd rather have our daughter mess up and know she can call us than her hiding out god knows where out of fear." She chastised him, her tone hardening. It snapped him out of his tirade long enough to realize the implications of what he said.

"My apologies," He lowered his head in shame at even the notion of it. "It wasn't what I intended to say."

"I have been by your side long enough to know what you mean and don't mean. I know you're angry."

"Of course I'm angry. You didn't see her in that dingy bathroom with skimpy clothes, eyes blown wide. It wasn't just some weed she smoked, that's for sure. Besides where did she even pick up such clothes?" Even talking about it made his skin crawl with dread. He brought the cigarette to his mouth yet again, needing the calm. Chain-smoking was a habit that he picked up years ago all the way back when he was just a private, and needed nicotine in stressful situations. This definitely constituted a stressful situation.

Ivana didn't respond, just kept rubbing his shoulder. Her lack of anger was starting to get under his skin. Almost made him feel like he was in the wrong. He wasn't, not this time.

"Why aren't you angry?" He finally asked.

"Of course I'm angry Helmut, I'm furious. But right now, Nic is in bed and you need me more."

Her words, spoken with such gentleness, forced him to turn to her and really look at her. Here she was, in the middle of the night, listening to his ramblings and quietening down all his inner turmoils. What would he ever do without her? There was no way in hell he ever deserved her.

He clenched his jaw a couple of times as he tried to find the words to somehow justify his behavior. To justify the tornado of rage and absolute fear that swirled inside him. In the end, he settled on:

"A girl died a week ago, overdosing on shit like this."

"I know."

"All I can imagine is that being her," He sighed, rubbing his eyes until he saw stars. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't get it out of his head. It was like the idea itself tried to choke the life out of him. "Of getting a call like that in the middle of the night. Instead of the one we got tonight. I can't. I really can't."

Ivana sighed and wrapped her arms around him, stepping on her tippy toes to land her chin on his shoulder. "We won't. You know we won't. She made a mistake and she is sorry about it. We'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Together."

Helmut felt her fingers slowly run through his hair, easing some pressure off his chest. Not enough to let it go entirely, but just enough for him to feel like he could go back inside.

"Well, she's a sad drunk just like you. That's for sure." His attempt to finally lighten the mood felt flat even to his own ears. Nevertheless, she chuckled and slapped his chest lightly in a warning.

"Watch yourself. One more comment and I'll have you sleeping on the couch." She smiled and turned to go back inside but he tugged her back into his hold before she had a chance.

"I love you." He told her, meaning every word. He loved her, truly. He doubted that he would ever find enough words to express just how much he adored her.

"And I love you. Now come on, let's go back to bed. You can be mad at her tomorrow." She took his hand and pulled him back inside their room.

"You go ahead, I'll be back in a couple of minutes."

"You better." She pointed a finger at him. "And seriously, lose the shirt. Preferably into the trash. It's disgusting."

For once he didn't disagree with her opinion on clothes. He doubted he would ever be able to get the stains and the stench out of the material.

"Nothing special for the price. I'd go for the Stironium that Joy offers. Basically the same thing but cheaper. " Nic's voice snapped him back to reality. Swallowing, he spared a glance at her, half expecting her to look drugged up. He didn't delude himself, knowing where he was. Narcotics in Madripoor hit a completely different level. It was more like a ticking Russian Roulette. You were considered lucky if you were alive by the morning.

To his surprise, the woman didn't even look dazed let alone under the influence. That was…an interesting piece of information to know.

"I knew it," Selby sighed and nodded to one of the men who promptly left the office. Her attention returned to him. "What was your offer again?"

"Tell us what you know about the Super-Soldier serum." Helmut proposed and stood up. He circled behind James, touching him just enough to show that he was the one in control. As expected, James did not move or wince as he trailed his hands down his face. "And I give you him, along with the code words to control him, of course. He will do anything you want."

"Now that's the Zemo I remember." Selby gleamed at the prospect of his offer. Helmut nodded, pleased. "I'm glad I decided not to kill you immediately. Yeah, you were right to come to me. Arrogant, but right."

With his job of selling the bait complete, he returned to his seat. He nodded in thanks as Nic moved her legs out of his way.

"The Super-Soldier Serum is here in Madripoor. You're looking at one example right in front of you." Selby confirmed his speculation and pointed at Nic lazily.

Helmut struggled briefly to keep his face straight. The woman in front of him did not look like a Super Soldier, if anything she looked very much like a regular person. Well, as normal as a person could be when they looked older version of someone else. But human. Nothing like the ones that he killed in Siberia.

Besides, Selby looked eager when he offered up James. Why would she want him if she already had a Super Soldier working for her? He supposed James was pretty handsome for a man but he doubted that she would be interested in him that way. The Selby he knew was always interested in finding use out of a situation or a person, not to take a personal interest.

Too many things weren't adding up.

"Doctor Nigel is the man you want to thank or condemn," Selby released a dramatic sigh, cocking her head to the side. "Depending on what side of this you're on."

"She's your pet?" Helmut asked curiously. He had so many questions about this Nic, but couldn't ask any of them without giving himself away.

"In a way. Power Broker's toy. Such a pretty thing, lethal too if you can afford her." The way she said, with such glee, made a shiver go down his back. She cast her eyes at Sam. "you know all about that don't you, Smiling Tiger?"

"Don't need to tell me." Sam mustered up all could in sounding confident for which Helmut was thankful. But Selby didn't seem to want to let up.

"You're taller than I'd heard."

"It's the shoes." Nic intervened and loosely crossed her arms, kicking up her foot against his couch. If he didn't know better he would say that it was a subtle attempt to lock him in his place. Was she playing something? He couldn't figure out her angle. Not yet, anyway.

"You had plenty of business with him didn't you?" Selby raised her eyebrow at Nic who merely nodded. "Can you confirm it's him?"

Helmut stiffened up, slowly moving his hand closer to his pockets, ready for a fight. He wondered if he would be able to grab the gun off the table quicker than Selby. Any moment now, their cover would be blown. He doubted the security would hesitate in shooting them. Nic stood up and slowly walked over from the couch to Sam. She circled around him like a cheetah ready to play with her food before devouring it.

She walked right up to Sam until there was almost no space between them and looked up. Helmut was ready to pray to the God he had long abandoned if it kept Sam from blowing their cover by stepping back. They were so close to knowing what they needed, it would be nice if they could leave this place without being shoved inside a body bag. He watched with a bated breath as she tilted her head and clicked her tongue.

"Oh, it's him."

Helmut was not expecting that. He looked up to James who also wore a similar expression of surprise. She was covering for them? Why? He doubted she really believed Sam to be Conrad Mack, she gave them more than enough indication that she suspected at least something.

"Good." Selby flashed her teeth as she turned to Helmut. "Had to ask. Too many fakes running around ever since the Blip."

Yeah, like the one sitting right in front of him who just lied about the identity of the Smiling Tiger.

"The Power Broker had him working on the serum, but… things didn't go as planned."

"Is Nagel still in Madripoor?"

"Oh. The bread crumbs you can have for free, but the bakery is gonna cost you." Selby teased him, raising up. "And before you get all cute, don't think you can find Nagel without me."

Helmut pursed his lips. She was right, people like him loved to hide out in the dark, work off-grid in their own little dungeons. He despised the Frankenstein wannabes, too deluded in their own ideals to see the lines that shouldn't be crossed.

Selby just about passed by Sam when a sudden buzzing noise brought the office to a standstill. It appeared that everyone held in their breath as the vibration rang out again. All eyes turned to Sam who dug into his jacket to retrieve his phone.

Fuck. Fuck. Did he seriously not turn off his phone? Helmut looked away exasperated and his eyes landed on Nic just in time to see her stiffened in her seat and clench her jaw. If Sam blew their cover and Selby realized that she covered for them, for whatever reason, she'd be just in as much hot water as they would.

In conclusion, this was very bad for all of them.

"Answer it. On speaker." Selby ordered as the phone continued to vibrate in Sam's hand. James moved behind Selby as the guards stepped up closer to Sam. Helmut glanced around the place, looking for any possible exit routes or what they could use to defend themselves. If they were ever going to get out of here alive, he was going to feed him nothing but expired food, that was for sure. Did he really need to spell it out for them every little precaution when going into a bad place? What kind of moron didn't turn off his ring tone when going undercover?

"Hello?" Sam answered.

"Hey, um, we need to talk about this situation. It's been drivin' me nuts."

"What situation exactly are you talkin' about?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nic move to the center of the couch as she watched the interaction.

"Are you high? You know what situation, it's the only situation me and you have."

Their eyes met as Nic reached for the gun on the table while everyone's attention was focused on Sam and put it in the inside pocket of her jacket before leaning back. She continued to watch him with a cold gaze as she ran her hand through the right side of her face and settled her fingers over her mouth.

He barely heard it. Perhaps he even imagined it happening at all. Maybe she simply coughed. But at that moment, he was certain that she uttered 'grasshopper' in Sokovian.

The call, Sam, Selby; they all became muted. Mere background noise as his whole body froze up on the spot. There was ringing in his ears. Or was it his own heartbeat that was banging against his eardrums? He wasn't sure. A sudden chill swept through him as if a cold wind cut through his skin. The word was not meant for him. He most likely was not even meant to hear it in the first place.

His brain screamed at him to snap out of it. To get himself back in order before he was riddled with bullets. But even blinking felt like an impossible feat. How was he meant to pay attention to what was going on around him? A fleeting, treasonous, thought crossed his mind. Did it even matter if he ended up with a bullet in his head before he had a chance to fight back? No. He still had a job to do. He needed to finish it before he gave in any temptation.

"If that was the case, then why'd they dog you out, Big Time?"

It felt like forever when he finally zoned back into his surroundings. Right. Sam was about to blow their cover. This woman in front of him was or at least knew Sokovian while looking like his daughter. James did what he did best, and stared at Sam.

Wait. Who was she talking to? Was she wired? Who the hell was on the other end?

Helmut tilted his head ever so slightly as Selby walked behind him. From experience, he did not enjoy someone standing behind when he was not in control of the room. Even now, it made his skin crawl with dread. She was circling them like they were the prey.

"Yeah, you damn right I'm Big Time. You'll see when I have that banker killed."

"Cass! What'd I tell you about the Cheerios?" Helmut inhaled sharply. They were done. "I don't have time for this! Sam, I'm sorry. I'll call you back."

The pressure in the air dropped. Selby raised her eyebrow, surprised.

"Sam? Who's Sam?"

"Now." Nic hissed out at the same time as Selby shouted "Kill them!"

Nic ripped the pistol out of her jacket and jumped up. She aimed and pulled the trigger. The sound of that first bullet leaving the chamber pierced through his eardrums. Multiple shots followed, as well as a window shattering into millions of shards. A man in the very back of the office dropped with dead weight.

The second's hesitation, the shock of surprise that passed through the guards, gave just enough time for Sam and James to overpower them. Helmut leaped from his seat as they fought for the weapons, there was no moment to waste.

Nic jumped over the corner of the couch to the table. Slapping the mask over her face she pulled the table apart. By the time that everyone was either knocked out or dead, she had thrown a backpack over her shoulders and secured it over her chest.

James pointed the gun as the doors to the office opened.

"Whoa." A woman with glasses entered the office. It took her one look inside to raise her hands up in surrender. "Wait I-"

"Nothing personal, it's just business." Nic responded and pulled the trigger before James could.

"They're gonna pin this on us," Sam informed them as he looked at Helmut. As if he didn't know that himself.

"We have a real problem now," He sighed thinking of what they could do. Maybe if they managed to sneak out unnoticed, they'd have just enough time to hide out and eventually get out of Low Town. It was their best chance. "so leave your weapons and follow my lead."

"We have roughly two minutes before every single mercenary gets an alert for a bounty. She was on the no kill list." Nic briefed them as she walked over to them with a phone in hand.

"Two minutes?" Helmut couldn't help but smirk. "A lot can be done in two minutes."

=====

By the time they made it to the streets and turned a corner, Nic's phone chimed up.

"We are about to have a lot of company," Nic called out and held up her phone. It had two notifications:

Messenger | now.

'Selby dead. B1k BOUNTY for her killers.'

Veron | now.

'58324 Ridge Tow. 7 minutes.'

Helmut would have loved to ask about the second message if they weren't about to become biggest practice targets to about every single lowlife in the city.

"What's the plan now?" James bit out as they marched down the street. More and more phones chimed up. Eyes followed their every move.

"Follow me and you might stand a chance," Nic replied, pulling a hood over her head.

"How do we know you're not just going to shoot us? You just said Selby was on the no-kill list and you shot her."

"Oh, you don't. But I am your only hope of staying alive."

"This is not good," Helmut warned, he could see the bystanders arming themselves. They had no choice but to place their trust in her.

The street light went out underneath them and a man pointed a gun at them. Shots rang out behind them.

"Through here," Nic shouted, ducking from the fire. She took a sharp turn behind a parked van that Helmut barely managed not to miss. They sprinted through a small alleyway in between the buildings.

"Why are you helping us?" He called out as they passed yet another turn, barely keeping up with her.

"An interested party is paying a lot of money to keep you alive." She responded and slowed down ever so slightly. As if she noticed that he couldn't keep up with a Super-Soldier speed. She frowned looking behind him. "Are your friends able to follow any basic instructions?"

Helmut looked back as well. Sam and James were nowhere to be seen.

"Not particularly." He sighed, shrugging. "Who is this interested party?"

She did not reply to him. Instead, she tapped her right ear as she held the pistol and slowly walked over to the end of the alleyway.

"We have a problem." She snapped into what he assumed was an earpiece.

"Oh?"

"Forty seconds."

Wordlessly she passed her gun to him and pulled out a blade that he could not recognize in the dim light. She moved out of the alleyway into the open. He followed suit with the gun raised but had no time to see where she ran off to.

Helmut aimed at whoever stood in front of him just as Sam and James cut the corner and appeared into the view. The goon dropped dead before he could pull the trigger. Startled, he squinted to see where the shot came from.

He turned at the sound of motorbikes approaching them. Another shot rang out, right as Nic popped out and dragged the goon off the bike to the floor. He did not rise again.

"You seem to have a guardian angel." Helmut broke the silence, surprised, as he walked up to them.

"Well, this is too perfect. Drop it, Zemo." A voice behind him made him jump and turn around. With the gun in his face, he had no choice but to bend down and slowly put the gun on the floor.

"Sharon?" James faltered, recognizing her. He knew her. A friend?

"You cost me everything." The woman, Sharon, growled at him with the gun still pointed to him. Helmut cocked his eyebrow. Did he? He could not recall ever meeting her before. He raised his hands in surrender and took a step back.

"Sharon, wait." Sam interjected, stepping closer to him. "Someone recreated the Super-Soldier serum and Zemo had a lead."

He was defending him? How sweet. Helmut would have made a witty comment if his life wasn't hanging by a thread. He turned his head to see Nic walking up to them from behind. The knife that she carried had spots of blood on it.

Helmut swallowed nervously. The woman in front of him clearly held a grudge against him and the woman behind him, well he had not the slightest idea what she wanted. Who was to say that they weren't about to end his existence at a moment's notice.

"That explains why you guys are here. And Selby's dead." She gave a pointed look at Nic who just shrugged.

"In my defense, this one did not think to turn off his phone."

"So what are you doing here?" Sam asked, changing the attention away from himself. Helmut wondered if he was embarrassed that he forgot to do such a basic task. He hoped that he was.

"I stole Steve's shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass, so that you could save him from him. I didn't have the Avengers to back me up. So I'm off the grid in Madripoor." Oh. So that's why she didn't like him. Even though it was hardly his fault.

"Don't blow smoke. I was on the run, too."

"Was. Is. Big difference. I don't speak to my family anymore. I can't. My own father doesn't know where I am."

Helmut looked around uncomfortably. He didn't particularly care about their reunion. Especially when they were still out on the open and could be spotted at any moment.

"Listen… Sharon, we need your help." James said, causing the woman to chuckle.

"Please." He added for the good measure.

Sharon sighed and looked behind them where Nic stood around.

"You alright?"

"Never been better," Nic called out. Even with his back turned to her, he could tell she was smirking.

"This isn't over. I have a place in High Town. You'll be safe there for a while."

Helmut shared a look with Sam and James and nodded. Getting a ride to High Town would be safer for them than navigating their way back to the safe house themselves. The bounty on their heads would not go away anytime soon.

"I'll follow by." Nic nodded to them and walked over to the motorbikes that sat empty. Kicking one of the bodies out of her way, she turned on the engine.

Helmut intended to trail behind them but Sam grabbed his shoulder and roughly moved him to the front, preventing him from seeing Nic take off. He still had so many questions and about zero answers when it came to her. Not knowing something was not his style.

The ride from Low Town was just as quiet but more relaxing than their last one. He imagined that having company that did not try to kill them at any chance they got helped.

Glancing at the side mirror, he saw that a single motorbike was close, trailing behind them.

"Your friend," Helmut opened his mouth, hoping to get even a grain of information. "Nic. Who-"

"Shut up, Zemo." Sam snarled from the back as he leaned into the seat's headrest and closed his eyes.

Helmut raised an eyebrow watching him through the rear mirror. At first, he assumed that the hostility was from the adrenaline of having a whole town trying to feed them bullets. But enough time passed for them to settle down and take a breath in. So there had to be another reason for the snappiness.

Helmut racked his brain through the day's events that would result in such behavior. He had to admit a lot did occur in the space of the twenty-four hours.

Oh?

Perhaps his intuition was correct and there was something going on between these two men. It would definitely explain the constant staring at each other. If he was right, he could imagine that Sam did not take lightly at the prospect of him trying to sell off James. Not that he actually wanted or planned to do it. He had hoped it would not come to that point anyway. James was much more useful to have around than not.

====

Their car pulled in front of a gated building that was surrounded by guards. Helmut had to admit, he was impressed. Not many people would be able to afford such a place, especially in High Town. He followed closely behind Sharon as they walked inside.

The inside was as over the top and sleek as he imagined it would be. They passed through numerous paintings that he had no doubt were the real copies and other artifacts. So she was a hustler then.

"Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well." Sam chuckled looking around.

"I thought if I had to hustle, might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I'll get for a real Monet?" Sharon explained, leading them further in.

"Also it helps that a lot of high-paying idiots do not realize the real value of art and are willing to overpay," Nic added passing them all.

"Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets."

"No. She means real." Helmut interjected, having some experience with places like these. Ivana had picked Nude Descending a Staircase, No. 2 by Marcel Duchamp to hang in their living room by the fireplace. "This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics."

"It's true. You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this." Even James reaffirmed their point.

"Okay, guys, I see what you're doing. You're more worldly than good old Sam." Sam rolled his eyes and proceeded to Google it.

"Yeah. What's Google say?" James asked sarcastically.

"No shit."

Helmut glanced at them. They fell behind, referring to bicker with each other than to follow them. Definitely had to be fucking.

"Come on. You guys need to change. I'm hosting clients in an hour." Sharon sighed exasperated.

====

Helmut helped himself to the open bar while James and Sam tried to pick what to wear for the evening. There was no way he would exchange the comfort of his own clothes to whatever Sharon had in stock. He already looked the part anyway. It was one of the many advantages of having a good taste in fashion.

Nic apparently had a similar idea as she threw the backpack by James and joined him at the bar. Wordlessly, Helmut passed her a glass and proceeded to pour himself a good amount of scotch. He would need a lot of it if he even wanted to begin to untangle the mess. Ignoring her existence seemed to be the easier option at the moment.

"Much better." Sharon made a comment as she passed Sam who kept changing his mind on what shirt to wear. His indecisiveness started to grate on Helmut's nerves. Even he didn't take this long to choose a shirt and he was called a fashion diva on numerous occasions.

Sharon sat down beside James and took the bag on her lap. She unzipped it and looked up at Nic with a grin.

"You think you can push it?"

"I know I can." Nic replied smugly and rose the glass to her mouth.

"Hold up," Sam interrupted turning to them with a simple turtle neck in his arms. Helmut crinkled his nose. Really? All this time for a plain turtleneck? "What exactly do you do? Cause you are sending mixed messages with the killing and saving our asses."

"I do whatever you can afford me to do." Nic grinned and looked him up and down as if to make a point. Helmut cringed at the suggestive tone of her voice. It made him uncomfortable to even think of what it could entail. Whether she did look like his daughter or not, it felt wrong. He doubted she was much older than twenty. Practically a kid.

Sam cleared his throat uncomfortably, getting a similar image as he did.

"So what?" He asked Sharon, putting the shirt over his head. "You have a lot of people that need to be murdered on your list?"

"Oh, no." Sharon chuckled. "We're friends. I just buy her out whenever I can to mostly chill. Her being able to sell crap to others on the side are just an added bonus."

"Who is the Power Broker now?" Helmut asked as he held the glass in his hands. He doubted it was the same person from when he dealt with him. People in places like Madripoor usually did not reach pension age.

"Depend on which division you want to talk to." Sharon shrugged. "It's not a single entity anymore but more like a big umbrella organization. Even then, you don't really know who you speak to. Suppose it's easier to hold on to power that way."

"You seem like you know a lot about how this place operates. What's going on, Sharon? You don't ever wanna come back home?" Sam frowned, sitting down on the couch opposite of her.

"They'll lock me up if I step foot back in the States. Madripoor doesn't allow extradition." Sharon sighed, standing up and walking over to another table to pick something up. Helmut watched her, noticing that she did not sit in one place for too long. Interesting. He wondered for a second if perhaps she had some form of ADHD or if it was just her body language betraying discomfort.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't call, but after The Blip and the chaos, I just…"

"Look, you know the whole hero thing is a joke, right? The way you gave up that shield, deep down, you must know it's all hypocrisy."

"He knows. And not so deep down." Helmut commented, bringing everyone's attention to him. He raised his glass in fake salute.

"By the way, how is the new Cap?"

"He sounds annoying." Nic interjected. She raised her eyebrow as he looked up at her. "What? It's Madripoor, not a cave. We do keep up with international news."

"Don't get me started." James grumbled, turning his head away.

"Please." Sharon scoffed, settling down beside James again. "You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit. Before you were his pet psychopath, you were Mr. America! Cap's best friend."

Well, that was offensive. To both him and James.

"Wow. She's kind of awful now." James bit out dryly.

"You get used to it." Nic retorted as she poured herself another drink.

"Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum." Sam spoke, playing with his collar. Either the scotch was really good or the day was getting to him, but if Sam kept messing with his attire one more time he wasn't sure he will be able to control himself enough not to strangle him.

Perhaps he was still annoyed at Sam for not turning off his phone.

"You guys really should steer clear of all of this for your own safety."

"We know it's a risk, but we won't leave until we find the one who cracked the code."

"We got a name. Wilfred Nagel." James added.

Sharon shared a look with Nic before rising once again.

"Nagel works for the Power Broker."

Helmut moved out of her way the moment he saw her walk in his direction. He glanced at the empty seat by a glass table and chose to sit there. It was close enough that he could still see them. The only downside was that Nic was directly in his sight now. With no imminent danger to his life, it was harder to concentrate on other matters and not let his mind run miles away. The longer he looked at her, the more exhausted he felt. Weariness seeped into his bones. He focused on the glass in his hands, running his fingertips through the golden strip.

"We need your help, Sharon. I can get your name cleared."

"You haggling with my life?"

"Not like that."

Helmut frowned. He didn't particularly care for their conversation. Or whether Sharon cleared her name. He was itching to get out, preferably as far away from Nic as possible. Maybe he could drink himself stupid until he forgot ever meeting her. Or until he started to believe that it was just his mind playing tricks on him and he simply slapped Nic's face over someone who shared her name.

That was going to take a lot of alcohol. It had been years since the last time that he got so drunk he passed out. Ironically, alcohol never made him forget, if anything it made the noise in his head so much louder.

He stopped paying attention to their conversation. It became a background noise as he zoned out. Even the glass that he kept staring at blurred away.

"I don't buy that. You pretending like you can clear my name."

"Okay, maybe it is hypocrisy. Maybe you're right. What happened to you. But I'm willing to try if you are. They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he's met."

"I heard that."

"I don't trust charity."

A pair of boots in his vision snapped him back. He blinked and looked up to see Nic standing in front of him.

"Sorry. Kind of need that." She pointed at the chest that was on the table.

"Of course." He gave her a polite smile and moved his chair to the side so she could grab it.

He gulped as the perfume hit his senses again. It felt weird. Wrong. His Nic always stole Ivana's perfumes that had some sweet combination of coconut, vanilla and touch of floral notes. She had a habit of spraying just a touch too much.

This was too harsh of a scent on her.

Not her. A stranger. Nic was dead. He should not compare how this woman smelled to how she used to. He had no business judging.

His eyes followed her as she walked off with the chest in her arm as if it weighed nothing and stopped by the stairs.

Sharon put her drink down with thud and straightened up.

"Well, I sell to some pretty connected people. Lay low, blend in, enjoy the party. Try to stay outta trouble. I'll see what I can find."

"Trouble." Helmut blurted out sarcastically and shrugged. He watched as the two women climbed up the stairs and left his sight.

"She means you." Sam gave him a pointed look.

"Why is she mad at me again?" Helmut asked as he got up and moved back to the yellow couches. Sam sat down beside James with a drink in hand. They had some time to kill before the party began.

"You don't remember?" Sam scoffed into his drink.

"Sam, if I tried to remember every single person that I may or may not have inconvenienced directly or indirectly, it would be a very long list and we'd spend a long time sitting around."

"Can't believe I'm saying this again. But it's not the time for arguments." James groaned out and let his head fall onto the back of the couch, almost like the idea itself was paining him.

"Alright. But I swear to God if you even move out of our sight for one second. I will send your ass right back to jail before you can make some stupid remark."

"I have no intention of inconveniencing you that much." Helmut smirked. "But be my guest and enjoy the party, I'm simply going to observe some individuals. No tricks."

"No. See, if we are doing this," Sam protested pointing to the three of them. "We need to know that you are not going to stab us in the back the first chance you get. So you gotta be honest with us, and tell us what the hell you're playing at."

"I told you before, I'm here to end the Super Soldiers serum. Nothing more, nothing less." Seeing the doubt on their faces, Helmut sighed in defeat. "And also figure out who the hell the woman your friend hanging out with is."

"You suspect she isn't just Sharon's friend." James guessed, crossing his arms as he stared at him.

Helmut threw back the glass, swallowing the last of it's contents. With the familiar burn that went down his throat, he pulled out his phone from the inside of his jacket and unlocked it. It didn't take long to search up his personal ICloud storage and enter the password. His phone lit up with multiple folders of pictures and documents that he had on his old phone. He clicked on the 'Pictures' folder, somewhat grateful that the contents of it were grouped by dates and had random strings of letters for its names instead of the actual pictures itself. It wasn't something he could deal with today.'Or ever' his mind supplied ever so helpfully.

He didn't need to scroll far to find the pictures dated back to February 2015. Mainly because he stopped taking pictures past May 2015.

In that February, he managed to pull enough strings with his Lieutenant General to get a couple of weeks off at the same time that Nic and Carl had holidays off school. Ivana wanted to go to Switzerland for the ski season while he wanted to go somewhere warm. After a few days of deliberation, they settled on and ended up flying out to Barbados for couple of days.

Helmut hesitated. It had been years since he saw their faces. Dread settled in his gut as he pressed to open the pictures. He did not give himself enough time to look at the pictures. Just tiniest of flashes as he scrolled through the few landscape shots before he found a picture where Nic was in it.

"This was my daughter, Nic," He told them, raising his phone away from himself and for them to see. "Looks familiar?"

Ivana had her arms wrapped around Nic's shoulders while Nic made a face at the camera. In the picture, Nic was with a mess of brown, wet curls that dropped down her back. She was younger, scrawnier, still with some baby fat in her cheeks but it was impossible not to see the similarities between the girl in the picture and the woman that they just met today. Apart from the haircut and the years, they were identical.

"Oh shit." Sam swore, zooming into the picture.

"Any chance it is her?" James asked looking up from the phone to him.

"I buried what was left of her years ago James. Collapsed buildings and flying ruble do not leave much behind." Helmut clenched his jaw. "But I am pretty certain that it is impossible."

"So either it's the biggest coincidence in the world that we met someone with exactly the same looks and name or either someone is behind this." Sam concluded passing the phone back to him.

"My thoughts exactly." He pocketed the phone back. "I simply wish to find whoever thought this was a funny joke and have a chat with them."

James and Sam shared a look. They did not believe a word of that.

"Alright," James sighed. "We'll see what we can find out before we leave this place."

====

Thank you so much for all the notes. I'm so glad you liked the previous chapters and hope you'll enjoy this too :) xx

[silver-wield]

Can you do an analysis on Cloud and Tifa’s body language during that scene when they’re in Cloud’s room and he’s slyly referring to his promise to Tifa? There was crazy sexual tension in that scene and it honestly looked like Cloud was subtly being flirty with her 😭

No probs, Nonny! I actually already touched on their body language in a reply to a gif set of this bit, so we'll just expand on that ^=^

Ok, spoiler warning for ppl who haven't played – do I still need to do this? Eh ok, (I tag FF7R spoilers as final fantasy 7 remake spoilers) and it's gonna be a VERY long one so prepare to scroll.

Also, this is one person's interpretation of the scene, so if you disagree that's cool and we'll agree to disagree.

You're also gonna have to excuse the janky quality on some of the screens, I'm grabbing them from Youtube and it's frustrating af trying to get the exact moment I want.

Other analyses if anyone's interested.

Shinra HQ vision scene (Cloti/plot analysis) 

Chapter 3 (Cloti reblog) 

Tifa character analysis 

Aerith Resolution (plot analysis/theory – I should probably update this since I've had other ideas since then) 

Train graveyard (not really an analysis, but I got some sweet screenshots of Cloti) 

Clotiscrew tunnel analysis 

Cloti reunion analysis 

The Promise Analysis 

Andrea's approval (Cloti ask response) 

Leslie analysis (not mine, but a good read) 

Cloti action touching 

Aerti friendship analysis 

Now, strap in and enjoy the ride.

Keep reading

Recap time! Yall know the drill by now if you've read my other ramblings.

Chapter 3, where we get a room (lol), do some jobs and have a chat with Tifa. It's pretty basic stuff until the cut scene after Marle gives Cloud a talking to. She's the overprotective grandmother figure that Tifa needs in her life and she wants to make sure Cloud isn't messing with her. Now, why would she think that? Well, maybe she picked up some hints when Tifa mentioned Cloud to her about wanting a place to stay? Marle's pretty sharp, after all, and if she got the impression Tifa is carrying a torch, she'd definitely make sure Cloud's not about to blow it out. She tells him to pay attention to her, to listen. This is the very first instance of Cloud taking in that kind of info and it changes how he treats others for the rest of the game.

After the chapter 4 mission where Cloud reflects on his promise to Tifa, it's back to the slums for some rest. Then Tifa knocks on his door and enters. She mentions Cloud was gone for a while, and he answers he was walking so that he keeps Jessie's secret – because he's that kind of guy.

Small talking Tifa is cute, but lol, Cloud seems to have purposely forgotten Johnny since he's yet another admirer of Tifa. For a guy who doesn't forget info like morons who could cause them trouble in the long run, it's pretty telling how quickly he is to dismiss Johnny.

Onto something more interesting in this pic, though. Cloud is sitting on the bed. Now, if he wasn't comfortable around Tifa he'd have got up. His eyeline is lower than hers so he has to look up at her. This puts her in a position of dominance over him – also not surprising since his mentality is that of a 16yr old around her and she's the adult in the relationship. Tifa for her part has her body turned to the side in a non-confrontational pose.

Tifa has her hands clasped in front of herself (couple of seconds before this screen) which indicates she's trying to protect herself as she asks the question if Cloud is leaving Midgar. Not surprising since she's afraid of losing people she cares about and even just someone heading off somewhere else would upset her, though she'd try not to show it.

Cloud, for his part, looks away, appearing as though he's thinking it over, but we're already aware he's decided to stay and help Tifa out, so this is a fake out on his part. He's half-teasing, half trying to get a positive response from her (remember the water tower? Yeah, this is that Cloud. The dork. The one who is useless at talking to girls).

I'm sorry, but Cloud is such a cheeky bastard I just can't with him! This is giving me all the throwbacks to his behaviour at the water tower and I love that it mirrors that moment, but with more success on his part this time. He's looking all around trying not to give himself away before it's needed. He's smiling and looks relaxed. He might be sitting but he definitely believes he has the upper hand between them at this point. Remember, I've said before that eye contact is important. Well, in this case, Cloud's deliberate refusal to make eye contact shows he's teasing. This is such a cute moment between them!

Oh ho! But here's where his teasing ends. Cloud is being completely serious and obviously took the promise between them as being special. Ducking his head out of sight completely prevents us from seeing his expression and allows him to act in a casual way about something that's such an important part of who he became. But, he's not quite pulling it off because he's also looking quite defensive in this pose. His hands are clasped in front of him and he's leaning forward, looking at the floor. This is something very meaningful for him to talk about and he's hoping Tifa doesn't brush it off, so if he doesn't look at her he won't have to see her reaction.

Tifa's obviously got her own interpretation of how that promise went. We can guess she did it because she just wanted a guarantee she'd see Cloud again some day from how she acted during the water tower cut scene. Here, she's leaning back on her hands which leaves her body language open, but also conceals something. She's looking down, the same way Cloud did. She's also hiding her true feelings towards Cloud the same way he's hiding from her, but she's being as honest as she can be as the same time. I've seen people call Tifa a liar because of how she doesn't address Cloud's memory problems in OG, but when you really take a close look at her, lying just isn't her. This is a complex moment between them. They've not long met again and they're having this heavy conversation. The feelings between them are still there, but there's all this other stuff that's more important. But, they know they're friends, and that's a good place to start getting to know each other again, and Cloud choosing to stay is that first step, with the quick follow up of him reminding her of their shared history.

Cloud, you smooth bastard I love you for this! This is definitely flirting! He's looking directly at her, then dips his head to the side in an inviting gesture. His eyes soften and he gets this tiny smile on his face. His body language has changed, too. He's sitting up and back slightly with both arms by his sides. There's no more defensiveness about him. He wants to listen to her. Cloud is choosing to ask for Tifa's confidence. He's letting her know she can rely on him. That he's interested.

For her part, Tifa's pleased, but surprised. She's not long got back in touch with Cloud and, while he's been a decent guy, she's had the overall impression he isn't the same as the soft boi she knew, so this is a revelation for her. The Cloud she knew is still within this Cloud – which anyone who knows the real!Cloud SOLDIER!Cloud storyline is exactly the point of this moment. Tifa knows his true self. The true self that comes out only when he's with her.

Cloud, bro, I'm gonna combust from all these flirty gestures! Fully open body language, a smile, teasing tone. Goddamnit, just say you love her already! Yes, please, invite Tifa to check you out. Remember, he's still sitting. He's so relaxed and natural around her. Even if all you saw was two friends and no ship, you'd be insane to think he isn't a different person in this scene. He's not SOLDIER Cloud here.

Tifa, for her part, isn't flirting here. She likes Cloud, that's clear, and her body language is reaching towards him, which suggests she has feelings towards him, but her tone is more playful and her expression is pleased. She's happy to see her friend isn't too different from the one she knows. Most of the flirting in this scene is on Cloud's side, which makes sense when you think of the torch he's been carrying for her. He's trying to get her attention, same way he did when they were kids. Tifa's oblivious but receptive because she likes him back, but she won't show it as much because she thinks he's not interested. Someone knock their heads together please lol

OMG FUCKING HELL CLOUD JUST TELL HER YOU LOVE HER! Leaning back on the bed, totally vulnerable body language, drawing attention to the bod in an attempt to spark her interest – since he's clearly interpreted this line from Tifa as a rejection – this boi is trying so hard! He even looks a little disappointed she's not more impressed with SOLDIER Cloud, but we knew she preferred the dork anyway lol

Now, I know everyone talks about the physical and emotional distance between them here, which is obvious, but what I'm gonna point out is after feeling like SOLDER Cloud has been rejected by Tifa – thanks to her preference for the real deal – Cloud looks away from her. She's brushed him off and he's hiding his upset by not meeting her eyes.

Tifa is still oblivious to this, but Cloud definitely has a look of disappointment on his face.

Now, after that last bit you'd think Cloud would assume he's got no chance, but then Tifa says how glad she is to have him back and that cheers him up. He's still in that mindset of a 16yr old with a crush, whereas Tifa's moved on. She's had 5 years apart from him (she thinks it's 7, I know, but he saw her in Nibelheim and how she'd matured a little). She's not thinking of him in an openly romantic sense, whereas Cloud is definitely still deep in his feelings for her. Hearing she's happy to see him hints to him that he might still have a chance with her if they spend more time together. His soft af goodnight is the last indicator of his strong feelings for her. His body language is open once more, he's staring after her with a longing look and a smile and doesn't look away until the door closes.

Conclusion

JUST GET FUCKING MARRIED ALREADY IT'S BEEN 23 YEARS!

Lol seriously though, Cloud is definitely still deep in the throes of his childhood crush. Tifa could resurrect hers with time because it's clear she does still harbour feelings for him, but she's not the type to be pushy or insistent. She'll let Cloud take the lead and offer subtle hints how she feels, hoping he feels the same. She doesn't pick up on Cloud's subtle flirting compared to those more in your face things he tried earlier. Through all of those interactions with her he's definitely trying to say that he likes her and he'd like her to accept his feelings, but the bigger gestures get the brush off, although she blushes and looks shy, and the smaller ones go over her head.

Unfortunately, these two are oblivious af and it's gonna take everyone's help to get them together.

[hazelenergy]

How I Digitally Paint like a Scenic Artist/Designer

Aka: how I did this and put my degree to good use. 

LONG POST WARNING

Step 1: Research. 

First off, get to your image search. If you are going to be using Google, you may want to type “-pinterest” in the search to eliminate the countless boards. 

I had to figure out clothing that is vaguely late 1800s. I found a multitude of reference images that were fancier clothes- but I wanted to find images of clothing for kindred across all social classes. Photographs from the era and paintings are your friend. They will more accurately showcase what was worn. 

After Fashion research comes location research. The 1890s in America is known for the rapid industrialization. Factories were getting bigger and work days were getting longer. But, I wanted the moonlight to be cascading into the place, illuminating the scene. This means I needed to find a structure that had skylights or let sunlight in. And the best images I found? Slaughterhouses. Fitting, huh?

The same rule for fashion still stands- if you can find photographs or paintings from the era- they’re better. There are tons of places still standing today from the 1800s. But today, they look WAY different. Ya know, Abandoned! So just be sure to take this into consideration if you search “abandoned slaughterhouses” or go trespassing like I did.

Lastly, pose research. Finding the poses for a fight scene can be tedious. So, I enlisted some help from a few fight choreographers and stunt men. You can record their fights and play them back at quarter or half speed. You can also get a mirror and flop on the floor a bunch. I did both. This lets you see the action/motion lines you are going to replicate in the drawing.  Heres how we initially did fina’s pose:

And sometimes you have to go back and get a clean shot. I ended up using this pose for the axe.

Step 2: Set up and Background!

When you open a new file, set it to the dimensions and resolution you want. I was working at 600. Usually, I’m working at 300-350. You can always reduce resolution. Its hard to prevent fuzzy lines if you increase it later. 

I cannot stress the following enough:

You work background to foreground. Big Shapes and areas to little shapes. Work your way forward. What this means is you need to fill in as much space as possible first. Then build your details. I prefer working as follows: Big Solid tones, Soft shadows, Dark Shadows, Highlights, then final blend. Once you finish this, put an overlay on top. This knocks everything back and helps create the illusion of depth. See this at work with the video below or here

Step 3: Figure Drawings + Composition

Utilize that research and images you collected to pose your characters. I create subfolders for each set of figures. Organization is important here. This will help keep you on the right layer and prevent the eternal digital artist struggle of “Fuck that was on the wrong layer!”

Even after you move on to lineart and shading, Keep the sketch layer as a reference. You may need to see what youre original notes/ figures looked like as you do the lineart and shade. Don’t be afraid to move them around and alter the composition rn. You want to be able to make changes. Make notes! Detail light sources! 

I’m about to through out some art jargon:

You want to think about asymmetric balance. The easiest way to achieve this in an eye-pleasing manner is to use the Fibonacci spiral. Yeah. This boi:

Place your figures and actions in a similar sequence to the spiral and the viewer’s eye tends to naturally follow it. This is sometimes called the Golden Ratio in the art world. 

Doesn’t need to be perfectly on the spiral. You can break it- but its an excellent tool to plan how things move in the piece. 

Step 4: Lineart

Once you got things sketched- its time to do the lineart. I’m using clip studio paint’s standard brushes. Nothing fancy. I often switch between the G-pen and the For Effect Liner. Mapping and Turnip are for thicker lines. 

Usually I set these pens to a specific thickness depending on where I’m drawing.

My background figures are lined at 0.05 thickness, the midground is .1 to .2, Fina is .3 and the foreground is .4. I set my stabilization high to help keep my lines smooth. Stabilization 100 means there’s a significant delay between where the pen is and the cursor. I like the stabilization to be at 20 for freehanding and at 50 ish for outlining. Dont become completely reliant on the stabilization though. Good and smooth lineart is drawn from the arm not the wrist. Your range of motion is severely limited if you only move your wrist. Practice moving from your elbow and you’ll be surprised how much smoother your lines get. 

Once I finish lining the figures, I usually go around it with an outline. This does three things: 

1. Solidifies the figure and cleans lineart for paint bucket tool. More on that in the next step.

2. Its a stylistic choice. Helps give it that comic book feel with a heavy outline. 

3. Pushes figures forward or back in the composition. Thicker outline helps denote that a figure is farther forward than another. My background figures have no outline to push them away 

Step 5: Digitally coloring

For each figure you are going to select outside the lineart. 

Create a new layer under the lineart

Invert the selection. Paint bucket. You should now have a solid shape of the figure under the lineart. Do not deselect.

Create a new layer above the one color. Title it solid colors. Paint in thick, solid tones. I like to use the mapping pen and turnip pen to color in my solid tones: skin, clothing, hair, etc.  

After that, deselect. Create a multiply layer if you can. If your program does not have a multiplier function, Pick a tone you want to use for shadows and lower the opacity (usually 30-40% I like to use lavenders or blue tones). It will not be as vibrant, but you can edit it in post. Select off of the solid colors layer. I like to start with skin tones. Use the airbrush tool to create soft shadows. You don’t want to create harsh lines on this layer.

Then repeat this process with harsh lines.  

Then knock it all back with an overlay. If you dont have the ability to create an overlay, you can again drop a solid color and lower the opacity, but you’ll have to mess with the color balance/ brightness/contrast to let all the hard work come through. 

You’re going to repeat this for every single figure. Here’s a few color theory tips though.

Your overlay colors should be darker (not more vibrant) in the foreground and lighter (avoid using pure white) in the background. This helps with the depth of the piece. Things closer tend to be darker (not always true, depends on lighting)

You can choose to use color theory to aid your shadows. Instead of choosing black or grey for shadows, choose a complimentary color. I used a lot of green for this piece, I used red for really dark shadows. Its not that black drains color- its just loses some depth if not used carefully. 

Keep your colors consistent. Helps unify the piece. You can strategically break the consistency to draw focus. For example, Fina is the only figure with a true blue overlay. This helps her stand out from the other figures who have reds and greens. 

Step 6: Touch Ups and Final Renderings

Now comes the most tedious part. If you’re like me, your computer fans have been whirring for the last few hours trying to render this monster of a file. If you havent already,  SAVE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS GOOD

These are the last four layers I have for the entire piece. Here, I am trying to create effective and believable lighting. This kind of work I have only been able to achieve in clip studio or photoshop. You can do it with normal layers, but choose your colors CAREFULLY. Stay away from pure white. Carefully utilize your knowledge of light and shadow to create soft highlights. Harsh lines tend to be a stylistic choice for me. The final layer, subtract, dulls out harsh red tones. I used this as a final overlay to help put everyone and everything in the scene. Without it, things are a little too green and skin tones are a little too blushed for vampires.

The challenge here is I want to tone down the red, but not lose the vibrancy of the blood. So, shift it to a blue. This also helped reinforce the “nighttime” effect. Its only a slight change.

Final thoughts:

Whenever you finish something, its important to reflect.

1. I am so FUCKING PROUD OF MYSELF. This is easily one of the most complicated pieces I’ve done in a while- and I’ve made 16′ tall faux stained glass. Brag. Let yourself feel awesome cuz you just made something awesome. 

2. I timed myself on the piece. I could have easily spent another 7 hours on it. But its important to know when to stop messing with it. Partially for budget reasons but also when you get down to the details you can make yourself go insane. Theres also a ton of detail work I lost cuz of overlays or its just too small to notice. Fina’s face? hard to see cuz its not close enough. 

3. I needed to take frequent breaks for this piece. That was good. Resting and stretching was very important. That is one of the reasons why I was able to work so fast. 

4. I started doing more digital art in April 2020. I have to say, practice makes perfect. I practice drawing and digital painting for at least 3 hours a day. 

That discipline has allowed me to improve so rapidly. So- I don’t wanna hear shit about I can’t possibly get this good! Or I couldn’t even draw a stick figure! BULLSHIT. You can. Get yourself some free software like Krita or Autodesk sketchbook and start playing! 

And thats what I got! Thanks for coming with me on this long post! 

[xxconclusione-aperioxx]

Okay so I'd like to share what I commented on this video. I watched it and it sent me into a whole rant about the motives and characterization of Draco. I recommend watching before reading this:

@quinncurio is the original poster

Here's the copy paste of my comment/ Essay. I was slight heated when I wrote this, but my points still stand.

"OH BOY. HI, HELLO I VERY MUCH DISAGREE. ALSO: DISCLAIMER: DONT TAKE THINGS PERSONALLY, YOU WILL FIND I HAVE A VERY LOGICAL EXPLANATION, FOR WHY THIS ANALYSIS DOESN'T WORK.

Calling a Draco a cowardly bigoted bully, and a carbon copy of Dudley is the most SHALLOW and LOW EFFORT CONCLUSION YOU COULD POSSIBLY DRAW. IT IS LOW HANGING FRUIT. I'm going to have to break this into sections to truly explain why your conclusion is soooo incredibly shallow. You may have done your research, but I feel like you learned nothing more about Draco then if you'd never seen more then 5 min. So I'm going to start the same way you have and break this down into the same points.

PART 1 : AN ANALYSIS OF HARRY MEETING DRACO

I'm not going to go into detail of Harry's impression or ideas of Draco, because this analysis is about Draco, Not Harry. Also remember the books were written from Harry's POV, not a neutral party. I'm not obliged to Harry's opinions, just facts. Which brings up the first true conclusion about Draco's character. *Draco Malfoy feels a strong need to impress others, to gain their affection.* He does this through incisive bragging, trying to make people believe he knows best, and tearing down the reputation of others, so the object of his desires sees Draco and the most obvious choice. Where we differ is:

You believe Draco does this, because he thinks, he's better then others.

I believe,(which circumstantially has more evidence), Draco does this because he wants the affection, and acceptance of others

Whether you believe he acts out this way bc of how he is raised, his privilege, or something else, it doesn't change the fact that Draco was truly trying to make a friend, perhaps the only way he knew how.

In noble wizarding society, traditions, and your family does mean a lot. Not even looking at it from a pureblood view, imagine having a family that old and known. They really are a type of nobility, with family Lords even having political seats in the Wizengamote just because of their family name. The Longbottoms and Weaselys hold this same political influence, and it's not tied to Slytherins, pureblood ideals or anything like that. Draco is an only child, and an heir to his family line, so he is going to be treated importantly bc of that. He is raised with that responsibility, and in social situations not only represents himself, but the whole heritage of his family. Draco hasn't had the ability to act like a normal petulant child (part of the reason he tends to act out at Hogwarts.*ie. away from home*). He's been taught to act proper, make good allies, and impress others for the good of his reputation. I'd say most noble wizarding children probably get the same training and lectures, and have their own customs and culture of educate. What may come for Draco as polite, and diplomatic, may sound rude or arrogant to Harry. This is because Draco was not aware how different Harry's upbringing was from his own, and has never dealt with not having enough. Perhaps if Draco knew how different and ignorant Harry was he would have felt pity, or a sense of wrongness at Harry's injustice. Though Draco is just an 11yr old boy, who's only ever had a loving family, and almost anything he wanted. It is difficult for him to relate to the lack of others. As all wizarding children, he probably grew up with the story of the boy who lived and may have even been excited when his father said he wanted them to become friends. He truely was excited to meet Harry and genuinely wanted to be friends. While yes Lucius definitely wanted Draco to befriend Harry to help lighten their family reputation, I also think that Draco, being a child, would more likely be more excited of making a famous friend. Maybe he even had some hope seeing he'd met Harry before when he saw him on the train.

Part 2 : THE DIFFERENCES BETWEEN DRACO AND DUDLEY

Draco's sense of superiority comes from his traditions and pride in his family, while Dudley's is strictly from his own greed and selfishness. Draco would't do half of the things Dudley does simply because it's incredibly unclothe, and he has better ways of getting what he wants. Dudley isn't smart enough to compare to Draco. Though Draco and Dudley might both have things handed to them, Draco is not gluttonous or greedy about it. Dudley will trash his gifts and belongings, constantly wanting more, and viewing things given to him as disposable. Draco wants things yes (like every child does) but he's proud of his possessions and cherishes them, brags about them. Dudley is an animal compared to Draco. He doesn't have the same skill, smarts or self control. Dudley is abusive, and a tyrant in his bullying. Dudley wants to see Harry hurt and bleed. He is very violent compared to Draco. While we constantly and repeatedly see Draco shy away from violence, and use more his words.

Part 3 : DRACO'S "HARASSMENT", STRATEGIES AND EVOLUTION.

Draco despite his threats and facade is Not a violent person. This is because despite all Draco's bravo, and cruel words, Draco is kind. Yes he is conflicted, but that is only more proof of his inner kindness. If he didn't feel guilty, he wouldn't feel conflicted. Which means he really doesn't want to be mean to others, but he's just acting out based on how he thinks he's supposed to feel/act, but doesn't really enjoy it. I think when you strip Draco back behind his actions, and pose, you'll find a very different person. The half-blood prince gave us some of that, but it's another thing to see it in Draco from the beginning. Essentially Draco's attempt at bullying started when Harry rejected his friendship. Draco had probably never been rejected before, and probably couldn't possibly fathom why Harry would choose anyone else over him. While yes that's a bit coincided, Draco was also incredibly sheltered and probably wasn't introduced to children who weren't already tied to his family. Harry's rejection irrevocably shattered Draco's confidence and perception, which sent him into literal years of lashing out at Harry for his hurt emotions, and pining for his attention. It is the most pathetic excuse for bullying, and Draco antagonizing Harry is the equivalent of pulling a girl's pigtails. Draco did get quite shrewd with words, but he was really just trying to get the biggest reaction, especially since Harry is so volatile at times. The truth of the matter is Draco is actually very jealous, because deep down he really admires Harry. He want's the same freedom Harry has. He doesn't want to worry about his duty or who he has to be, but to be able to live authentically the way he views that Harry does. Draco really just wants to be more like Harry, but feels he is stuck, by the Dark Lord, his family obligations or anything else. Draco isn't a bully, he's just sad. Not even Ron or Hermione take him seriously after a while. *cough*this is why Drarry is so huge*

Part 4 : He had no choice?????

Everyone has a choice, but I think you over estimate how easy a choice can be. Family is important to Draco, they are probably the only people who love him for who he is, not what they can get out of him. As a child Draco felt pride in his family, and family made him feel special and important. As he got older that pride turn into expectations, and responsibility. Lucius and Narcissa value the preservation of their family above all else. They are protective and loving and those feeling extended to Draco. It's where he gets his kindness. It is indeed a Slytherin trait to value those you care about above everyone else. We protect our own, a loyalty probably stronger then Hufflepuff for those select few a Slytherin deeply cares about. Draco's parent would let the whole world burn to save him, and Draco would do the same for them. While Draco's family did hold pureblood ideals, after the first war Voldemort was not someone they willing wanted to follow. The light sided also would have never offered aid to death eaters, because fundamentally they were still against the dark, and there was no other place for dark wizards to go except Voldemort. Most of the death eaters had actually been somewhat relived at the news of Voldemort's death, and the boy who lived, as Voldemort had already become insane to the point of torturing his own followers, and wasn't getting them anywhere near their goals. Except for the also insane brainwashed few like Bella who'd follow her lord to the grave, many of the death eater's were content to be peaceful and stay quite after the war. Probably even grateful for it, as there were many needless casualties on both sides. I feel like the Malfoys were one of those families that were happy to get out. If the side they are on is harmful or losing, they are ready to abandon ship. This may sound like they are cowardly with no resolve, but if it was the life and death of your family, and your loved ones, I think you might think differently. I feel like we aren't too far off in agreement here, but where we differ is in judgement and motives we feel the Malfoys, or Draco had. Lucius made a mistake in the first war, and spent the second trying to keep his family out of danger. I can't imagine the fear he had in Azkaban for his family, the dementors feeding off him and what he thought the Dark Lord would do to his only son, his wife, his family. Meanwhile Draco was left with the threat of his father rotting in Azkaban, and his mother being killed. His mother also with the thought of her son being killed. So yes Draco could have made a choice, and he did make a choice, a choice to protect his family, and honestly I can't see that as wrong. Maybe if Harry would have actually taken his offer of friendship things could have gone differently and it wouldn't have come to that.

Part 5 : Abuse Theory

I definitely agree with you here. The Malfoys were not abusive, and get a better anthology for racism then something which in fact could be solved with a study on culture rather then blood. If you want a good parallel for racism in HP forget muggleborns, and look at creature blood, not dumb house elfs either, but werewolves, goblins, centaurs beings just as intelligent as wizards. The bigotry towards werewolves especially is horrific, especially from the "light side" who avidly labels them as dangerous dark creatures. *Also note about the scene in Borgen and Berks* Lucius stopped Draco from touching the artifact because it was probably cursed, as many dark artifacts are. Even if you know what you're doing they can be dangerous to handle carelessly. So Lucius was actually very wise and protecting Draco, his 12 yr old son, from getting badly hurt. Why the cane? If touching a cursed object curses you, then its better not to get close with your actual hands. Using his cane to push Draco away was actually a precaution. Lucius is anything but careless,

Part 6: Draco's Wand and Symbolism

I generally agree here too, but I believe this symbolism is more reflective of the things Draco wishes he could have had, or done differently. If anything the wand and symbolism Draco has is representative of the good in him, and not cowardice, or inability to do enough.

Part 7: Redemption

Tbh I'm part of the crowd that would have liked that deleted scene to stay in the final cut. However I understand what's justifiable for one person, may not be enough for someone else. This is where you get more into the topic of morality, and how much are you morally responsible for as a person. Harry has been drilled with the mindset for years that he has to save everyone, and that if your not in it for the greater good, ready to lay down your life you better forget being in it at all. Personally I don't believe Harry has any right to claim that rhetoric, as Dumbledore(and by association Grindlewald) practically spoon fed it down his throat; but I wont talk about that as it's a whole other issue. Draco, you have to understand has a whole type of different morality. Objectively I believe he's a good person, if not pressured by the echo chamber of ideals around him. Yet Draco repeatedly gives signs, and expresses the desire to want to do good. In order to properly analyze Draco you have to look past his outward facade, and actions, or you'll never see him as anything more then he pretends to be. If you can only read plain text, if you can't see past the obvious, you will always have a very flat one dimensional view of a character or a person. To me there's no redemption needed. Draco is already good, more good then his parents, and perhaps more good then some who claim goodness.

In summary Draco is a very complex person, who tries to over compensate for his flaws, struggles to express honesty, but deeply cares for others, especially his family. His duality lies in how he wants to be good to others, yet how in the end he always chooses to save the ones he loves, over the majority. Draco will always have his flaws, but he will always have his goodness too, and I hope you won't disregard that.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

P.S

Kudos to anyone who read through all that.

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy chapter 246; the icon of the Ainu indeed

Well it is that time again, time to dig into the most recent chapter of GK for some meta thoughts and Ogata comments of course.  The chapter starts off with the continued brawl between Sugimoto and Ushiyama which Sugimoto is definitely losing despite his killer efforts.  See those white eyes on the title page.

But knee to the face only results in less than a reaction from Ushiyama as he blows the blood out of his nose and pulls his head back up.

The chapter title has been translated as the “icon” of the Ainu which will become important as events progress.

Shiraishi desperately calls for someone to stop them and Boutarou shows a hidden strength as he hits Ushiyama in the head with a table as he yells at Ushiyama.  Ushiyama is pleasant enough in calling him a pirate and remarks that it has been awhile before he flings him into the wall upside down.  A rather dejected looking Boutarou remarks to Shiraishi that it didn’t work.

Trying to stop the insanity, Kadokura, of all people runs into action but gets tripped up on his fancy monk footwear.  Thankfully, his fellow ‘old man club’ member Kirawus comes to check in on him asking if he’s alright and Kadokura suspects he sprained his ankle.  Toni adds in color commentary that he’s wondering why the two of them even came to Sapporo.

The fact that Toni is questioning their presence tells me that both of these men are definitely hiding something that will come into play in the future.  I already previously wrote a meta stating that I’m suspicious of Kirawus and his possible involvement in the gold since he’s older, single and his forehead is always covered.  Kadokura’s ‘thing’ is that he’s inept and has bad luck, but Hijikata likely knows more and he’s not a loser per se.  He’s been able to pull of many things including making sure that his own men at Abashiri couldn’t interfere with the plans to rescue the fake Wilk (which he clearly knew was fake).  If he were as inept as he’s implied to be, he would have died years ago.  He’s fronting a bit in my opinion.

Hijikata then approaches and tells Ushiyama to get out of the way so he can shoot (and kill) Sugimoto finally.  Of course, Asirpa intervenes to prevent any further conflict while Ushiyama proceeds to own Sugimoto in the background. She confidently stands before Hijikata and gestures with her left hand reaching out to halt Hijikata.  She is in a complete ‘power pose’ as she stands between the rifle and the tussle behind her.  There is a close up on her determined and calm face which is then looked at by Hijikata.

Really, I feel like this is back to channeling the ‘Asirpa as Jesus’ vibe.  She is intervening in a situation in a calm and non-offensive manner.  Her determined facial expression has a level of maturity that we haven’t seen before and you know Hijikata is sizing her up.

The next page already shows Hijikata has lowered his rifle and now is covering his wound in his upper left arm with his free hand while Asirpa stands before him with closed fists.  Sugimoto and Ushiyama are still fighting and Kadokura springs into action.  First off, he highlights that if they don’t stop fighting the police will come.  And if the police come the 7th won’t be far behind which would be a bad thing.

Additionally, in order to make sure that their entire group is together, he orders Kirawus to find Ariko and Ogata to make sure that they are able to safely retreat and not attract too much attention.  Kadokura is not a real loser, just his own flavor of loser.

This statement clearly gets Sugimoto’s attention as he asks “Ogata?” while still fighting with Ushiyama.  This completely distracts Sugimoto as Ushiyama begins to put him in a tight arm lock and he starts shouting at Vasily aka hood guy (hoodie-chan in Japanese) that Ogata is there which falls upon deaf ears so to speak.

Sure enough, Ogata is back on his game and he’s clearly been well aware of the current events for some time from his ideal fire tower sniper location.  He’s modified his use of binoculars for his single left eye and some of his fake mustache remains painted on his face from his ironic disguise.  He simply threw his handy cloak over his commoners clothing which was seen in chapter 240.

Here is his commoner outfit from 240.

I am curious where he had his rifle and cloak?  As he has clearly stated that one never leaves one’s rifle more than an arm’s length away (unless naked, then in the general bath is good enough).  I would assume with his neurotic tendencies the rifle and cloak are inside of the Yuusaku themed puppet which he has ditched somewhere to quickly climb to his clutch location to watch things as they unfold.

He is able to spot Asirpa in the mix of things as she turns around to look at Sugimoto who is desperately trying to communicate to Vasily that Ogata is nearby.  After what I would say was an embarrassingly long amount of shouting by Sugimoto, he finally manages to produce one of Vasily’s drawings of Ogata to get his point across.  I’m really unsure why Sugimoto would have Vasily’s drawing of Ogata unless it is his only option since Ogata likely did not have his photo taken at the studio.  Vasily again takes a few minutes to put things together, but once it sinks in he is beyond excited.  I find Vasily’s reaction to be out of character, he is a man who is a cold blooded sniper who let his friend Ilya die so that he could pursue Ogata, yet he’s shown to be flustered, so much so that he grabs Sugimoto’s rifle.

So not only does he grab Sugimoto’s rifle but he’s going to have an issue when it comes to firing it.   I’m going to assume that Sugimoto got a type 38 from Tsurumi when he went to ‘rescue’ Asirpa which takes the 6.5x50mm Arisaka cartridge.  Unless he’s changed his own beloved sniper rifle, Vasily should still be using a Mosin-Nagant which would use a so called ‘7.62 Russian’ cartridge.  Therefore, Vasily is going to have to either hope that Sugimoto has left his rifle loaded, with the safety on, or he’s going to have to calm down and take his own Mosin-Nagant.  But the fact that he has grabbed some ‘spoons to go’ tells me that he isn’t thinking very clearly.

Now, let’s pause for a moment and ponder if Sugimoto’s rifle is loaded.  When we first met him panning for gold, our first convict pulled his own rifle on him but was unable to shoot due to the safety being on.  This would imply that Sugimoto kept it loaded.    In chapter 235, our postman from hell is able to use Sugimoto’s rifle and sure enough he fires off most of the shots and this also implies that it is loaded at all times.

Of course in direct contrast to Sugimoto’s reckless rifle use, is Ogata’s anal retentive rifle care and use (and more care!).  When the group were at the hot springs during the new moon attack, Ogata had his rifle stashed away in the corner as well as a single cartridge.  As he had to load the cartridge while pursing Toni and his gang, it is clear that he does not keep his rifle loaded at all times. It is clear that when he goes into action or needs to be on guard he clearly has his rifle loaded.  But when they are in more public places and his plan of action would be to find a nice place to snipe from he likely uses his time to get into position to load his rifle and ready himself, since it isn’t a rushed situation.  Due to his extreme skill with the rifle, I’m under the indication that Ogata feels comfortable enough to have time to load his rifle with little effort if he needed to when a situation takes a turn for the worse.

Okay so back to the action - I’ll say that ‘borrowing’ Sugimoto’s rifle isn’t a bad idea since it is likely loaded, which makes Sugimoto’s use of fighting with the rifle even more terrifying; what would happen if he knocked the safety loose?  And yet again, I can hear Ogata’s voice scolding Sugimoto for leaving his rifle unattended.  In an even more scolding and disappointing voice, Ogata is berating Vasily for not having his trusty and familiar Mosin-Nagant ready to re-start their sniper battle.

All in all, Vasily’s entire reaction is completely out of character and confuses me.  This is not the man who tried to draw Ogata out so that he could continue their sniper battle here.

And again, even though I said it in my meta before, I’ll say it again. 

Vasily, you lost.

With Vasily off to find an adequate location to continue where he left off with Ogata, the action moves directly to our wildcat sniper himself.

Asirpa has now turned away from Ogata’s direction and he puts his binoculars down.  He holds his rifle ready as he vocalizes his thoughts aloud, a very unusual situation for Ogata.  When Ogata was sniping Tanigaki with Nikaido he was relatively chatty with him, but this served a purpose, he was telling Nikaido what he was doing and why he was doing it.  Once he set Nikaido up as bait, and he settled down to his true sniping position we only get his inner dialogue.  In Barato, he didn’t order the other men in the battle until he had given away his sniping position on the fire tower.  At the hot springs he had inner dialogue as he snipes the blind bandits.  Interestingly, during his sniper battle with Vasily, we do get a few lines of spoken dialogue from Ogata.

First off, he states that one of the major merits of a sniper is to be so cautious that he’s almost a coward as he must be afraid to give away his location in order to succeed.

After a few pages, he then follows up with the following remark on Vasily’s dedication to his sniping.  Kiro killed and seriously wounded the other border guards, but Vasily could care less, he’s sniping and nothing will come between him and getting his target.

I personally realized that this spoken dialogue is incredibly out of character for Ogata during the sniper battle. We do not get speaking from him during a serious sniping situation.  I can see two reasons for this:  i.) the rest of the page is covered with Vasily’s internal monologue about sniping.  It very well may have been an editorial decision to have Ogata speak on both of these pages just so that the poor reader wouldn’t get lost between Vasily’s and Ogata’s thoughts as they describe each other during their set up.  It would also give more weight and importance to Ogata’s thoughts on things if he says them directly to us, the readers.   ii.) Ogata feels safe enough to vocalize this before things get serious.  When Vasily doesn’t respond to the dead and dying man, Ogata knows what type of sniper he is and promptly shuts up.  This may have added to the drama as we see Ogata’s breath clearly on the second image above which meant he didn’t start eating snow until he realized that’s how serious things were going to get with Vasily.

And with that Ogata is 100% back in character silently sniping away.  The rest of their sniper battle is full of Vasily’s inner dialogue and we get no additional dialogue of any sort from Ogata until he makes his mark.

Back to the current chapter, Ogata is aimed towards Asirpa.  He’s got a clean shot at her.

He mulls aloud that “If I did this. . . . [shot Asirpa] I bet it would really throw things into chaos.” followed by a rather flat sounding “ha hah”.  The final bottom panel zooms out to reveal the boots and pants of what appears to be an officer’s uniform.

So this entire page is showing so many things.  Ogata is recognizing the power that he could have over the hunt for the gold.  He’s in a unique position to silence the most powerful person in the entire quest, Asirpa.  Yet, even as he states this aloud to no one but himself, it seems to invoke Yuusaku and the guilt associated with him.  Ogata completely hesitates this entire page.  He puts the binoculars down, states the obvious and then holds his rifle at ready.

The readers are already shown his guilt from killing an innocent icon like Yuusaku approaching him from behind.  The next page appears where Ogata senses his guilt as he thinks someone is behind him.  We only see him glancing out of the corner of his left eye and he does not turn towards the putative Yuusaku ‘presence’.

This then shows Ogata finally turning to see if anyone is indeed behind him, which there obviously isn’t.  Before I get any further, I’m going to state right here that I do not believe that Yuusaku’s ghost is here haunting Ogata, if so he would have been haunting him all the time since he killed him back in the war. 

Instead, Ogata’s guilt towards killing an innocent, like Yuusaku, is manifesting itself as the appearance of his brother whenever Asirpa is involved. This has held up since the end of the sniper battle led to his fever and the mental link between Asirpa and Yuusaku.  When he had the very bad fever, Kiro translates that something has ‘taken hold’ of him, which really I’ve always read was Ogata feeling the guilt from killing Yuusaku.  The guilt itself has taken hold of him and it isn’t letting up after the sniper battle.  The sama helped Ogata overcome the thing that had ‘taken hold’ of him which makes sense.  When Ogata wakes up he links Asirpa to Yuusaku as icons.  So now, instead of his guilt taking hold of him, his guilt is now something that he is aware of which is most tightly associated with Yuusaku as the manifestation of the guilt when he sees Asirpa and her role in the hunt for the gold.

Due to his guilt distracting him, Ogata is able to notice Vasily getting into a sniping position. As he makes a very hesitant but surprised statement of ‘ . . . . what?”  This shift from 100% sniper chaos mode has given Ogata the chance to see the bigger picture and Sugimoto stupidly helps by yelling at Asirpa to get someplace safe since Vasily is in position to hunt Ogata.  Great job their Sugimoto, yell loud enough that Ogata is aware that you know he’s around and you want him sniped by Vasily.

So this is a pretty awesome and dramatic reveal that, hey guys, guess who feels guilty?  Ogata!

The rest of the chapter focuses on Sugimoto, Hijikata and Asirpa.  This page alone has so much to unpack.  Sugimoto while still held by Ushiyama ,angrily yells at Hijikata for setting him up in Abashiri, and he’s upset that he purposely separated Asirpa from him.  For good measure he adds in that because of Hijikata’s plan he got shot by Ogata.  No one will deny that Hijikata’s plan was to separate them, however, it was Sugimoto who found Wilk and drug both of them out into the open in plain sight of Ogata for sniping ease (Ogata and Kiro thank your effort Sugimoto).  He could have done something else instead of being in such an easily visible and vulnerable place. 

As Ogata shooting Sugimoto was not a part of ‘plan Hijikata’, Hijikata completely ignores most of what Sugimoto says and instead plainly states that ‘he should have’ killed him in Abashiri.  That’s right as I predicted in the previous meta, Hijikata doesn’t give a damn about you Sugimoto, you are just a really whiny fly in the ointment.  Sugimoto grits his teeth as he goads Hijikata into trying to kill him.

Again, Hijikata is able to calmly reply that he knew Sugimoto would be a problem.  Sugimoto being Sugimoto let’s him know that he’s of course going to cause problems and he then summarizes that Hijikata with Nopperabou (note how Sugimoto doesn’t say Wilk) were turning Asirpa into the icon of Ainu and with the power of the printed press, she would be the leader for the independence of the Ainu.  We already know that Sugimoto’s read on this is based on his limited knowledge of Joan of Arc from “Girl’s Monthly” and his conversation with Wilk before he was shot.  Now, Wilk confirmed that he trained Asirpa so that she could be adept at guerilla warfare. This makes sense for Wilk and for Kiro as well since they fought from a young age for the partisans.  But Hijikata isn’t a native nor mixed race individual from the minority groups, he isn’t going to come from the same cultural context.

We already had many hints of this throughout the manga.  The fact that Ogata confirmed that Wilk was working with partisans and his partners are hiding among the Ainu.  His tenacity to try to figure out Kiro’s true identity, and how even Ushiyama knew he never trusted Wilk.

And here is where Hijikata’s Japanese ‘samurai’ mindset comes through loud and clear. He first off makes it clear to Sugimoto that he has no intention of using Asirpa as a leader in a guerilla warfare.  This 100% makes sense that he would completely disagree with using women or children as soldiers to fight in his war.  Instead, he lays on the passive aggressive idea to Asirpa that she could help his cause by caring about her own people’s future or return home.

This says so much, he is committed to having Asirpa play some role in his plan, but he has made it quite clear that it isn’t her place in the conflict as both as a female and as a child. 

Asirpa then speaks directly to Hijikata and Sugimoto, declaring if this is the case than there is no point for them to fight.  Hijikata still looks calm but a bit miffed and Sugimoto is still angry.

Asirpa is able to directly ask Hijikata about the Ainu’s future.  He replies that through deforestation many of the other resources will run out e.g. things that the Ainu have relied upon are being used by the Japanese at an unsustainable rate.  He then says that the economy will be based on coal.  [Yay! An even worse resource to use and it will destroy the environment even more!] 

Aside from my very sarcastic statement, it is true that the demand for coal will only increase from the turn of the century up until well the heydays of the 1950s, so Hijikata’s plan does work.  Hijikata will use the coal industry as a way to feed into non-Japanese immigration to Hokkaido.  Interestingly, he states clearly that Japanese who are only used to Japanese will combine with the Ainu who have more intermixing with other groups as well as his ‘unknown/unstated’ other peoples will combine together in a multi-ethnic state. 

What I find most interesting is that Hijikata is showing that he has a more open view to a mixed race/strength through diversity thought process than I originally thought.  The difference is that Hijikata’s plan is still based on modernization and the immigration of different groups to create a powerful buffer state.  This is different than Wilk’s dream with Kiro and Sofia, as he wanted to create a confederation by the minority groups for the minority groups and not centered around an industrialized economy.

Wilk and Kiro wanted to preserve their way of life and their cultural practices and it showed with the fact that Asirpa was trained in an “Ainu” way to fight the colonial powers. 

Hijikata, instead, wants to mix the different groups together to create something new, but it implies that she would not be preserving her way of life nor her full cultural practices as the more cultural mixing that would occur the less of the old ways would be kept. 

In that way Wilk’s plan was quite unique, he recognized that he was a mixed race individual as well as Asirpa but he did not put that much of an emphasis of her adopting any sort of Polish cultural aspects.  Sure, he highlights that because she is not 100% Ainu it makes her a new woman, but she didn’t not culturally synthesize Polish-Ainu practices.  Even Wilk’s name is an indication of that, he was named per Karafuto Ainu and Hokkaido Ainu practices but he got a Polish name.  In a way, he used his European background as a partisan but he only passed on Ainu cultural practices to Asirpa.

Asirpa seems engaged and thoughtful as Hijikata speaks while Sugimoto is just, well angry.  Ogata’s got Sugimoto all constipated. . . .

Before Asirpa replies, we get the inner thoughts of Bouratou and Shiraishi begins the lay the groundwork for rejoining team Hijikata.  It is clear from Bouratou’s down turned mouth and thought ending with a question mark that he’s not keen on this whole Republic of Ezo concept.  I would guess that he’s thinking the same thing that Ogata said when he approached Hijikata about it.  It is a poor idea and many men will die for no reason.  Shiraishi states the obvious that they have been presented with the lesser of two evils.

Asirpa then gets to have a nice long monologue.  She makes it clear that she does not want the gold to go the 7th and Tsurumi.  She also states that Sugimoto’s skins were ‘stolen’ from him by Tsurumi.  I’m not sure if this is a deliberate lie by her to Hijikata to imply that he didn’t willingly work with Tsurumi (which he totally did) or if it is a lie to herself (Sugimoto didn’t sell me out for Umeko).  Even though we the readers don’t know what Ogata told Hijikata when he came back, he made it quite clear he had a run in with Tsurumi’s men and Sugimoto was with them.  She instead, presents that since they are missing those skins and now that they have skins that Hijikata lacks, it is the only option but to team up again.

To really make it clear that the Karafuto trip matured Asirpa, we get some surprise from Ariko.  He looks nervous as he asks Nagakura if that is her.  Nagakura who is frequently depicted as a generally wise man, comments that she has changed since he last encountered her.  Furthermore, he states that she is standing on even footing with all of these powerful men.  Clearly, we are getting nice vibes that Asirpa has some Sofia characteristics growing.  Plus, they both have a love of poop.  I can’t wait for the Sofia-Asirpa reunion.  I’m certain a poop joke will be involved.

What I find concerning is that after the profile shot of Asirpa there is a zoom in on a still nervous looking Ariko with his face a bit more shaded and serious looking.  Clearly, he’s got orders from Tsurumi (as a spy) and Kikuta (as a spy and his trusted friend) and who knows what else (Ainu intel) that makes very unsettled with this entire situation.

Ushiyama only after all of this realizes that he let Ueji escape.  Dammit man, you were supposed to kill him remember?

And then a finally shot shows Vasily searching in vain for an Ogata who is long gone.

The chapter then ends with Asirpa sitting down alone, with Hijikata as she drives her part of the deal.  She will share the skins that they have, Boutarou’s and Heita’s in exchange for a chance to look at Hijikata’s skins.  Now, smartly, Hijikata only allows her to look at them alone, no one else.  I’m not sure if Hijikata knows that Asirpa is illiterate or not but both of them are controlling the flow and exchange of information between them.

This final panel shows Asirpa looking at Boutarou’s with Sugimoto, so he’s likely helping her out with the kanji on his tattoo.  She also is looking down at Heita’s so she thinks she’s figured out a commonality between the skins.

And we know that it should be linked to the code that she remembered, Horkew Oskoni.  Unfortunately, the chapter ends with a dramatic look of shock and concern from Asirpa after looking at Hijikata’s skins.

She can’t put things together as she thinks that I can’t not be Wilk’s Hokkaido Ainu name!  And with that our chapter ends!  Dum dum!

Now, I hope that Asirpa remembers that Hijikata has 5 fake skins that Edogai made for Tsurumi.  I hope she remembers that they would be in the mix and therefore, they would not correspond to the characteristics that she thought could be on all of the skins that are key for finding the gold.

Well that was a lot to unpack in this chapter!  I enjoyed it for the most part, it really hit a lot of unknowns and mysterious motivations that we are still missing for some characters!

[mymelodyheart]

Highland Destiny Chapter 9 ~The Fury & The Beast~

Claire was motionless. She was looking straight ahead, frozen and unblinking. Her awareness was gradually peeling away like she was being split in two. She knew she was no longer in her body and was observing the activities through a goldfish bowl. It was all very dream-like, everything was starting to shimmer like their atoms couldn't hold together, and the colours seemed too bright and the people too close. This sense of detachment frequently happened to Claire when she's about to perform surgery. It was a kind coping mechanism to help her deal with stress and anxiety and aid her surgical work with precision and efficiency. 

"Claire! Claire! Are ye alright? Look at me!" 

She turned. It was Geillis. Claire looked at her face, and she thought it looked like it was made of wax and it was animated by some alien spirit. She smiled at her friend, but it was an empty smile. "I think I need a drink," Claire murmured. She didn't recognise her own voice - it sounded very garbled and distorted, like someone speaking through a very long metal pipe.

"Aye, of course, ye dae...c'mon," Geillis said as she led her away towards the bar. She was concerned about Claire. She knew that look from their medical student days whenever they performed a mock dissection. Her face would become expressionless, and her actions very clinical. And although Claire was fully functional, she was very robotic. Geillis wanted to shake her and slap her on the face to bring her back, but she couldn't. Not in front of all these people. Instead, she ordered a double whisky and made her drink it straight.  Damn ye, Fraser! Damn ye!

It worked. It wasn't long before Claire was sputtering and coughing. And when she came around, the pain was etched on her face.

"Oh God Geillis, what the fuck!" Reality suddenly hit Claire like a massive wallop to her stomach, and the continuous piercing sensation in her heart was returning again.

Joe was there, his firm grip on her arm was supporting her. "Sweetheart, shall we go outside for some fresh air?" he said softly, as Gail looked on.

"No! No! Just let me be, I need a moment alone. Please." Claire's voice cracked. Joe and Geillis knew she was trying to hold it together, but they could only watch helplessly as their friend walked away and headed for the bathroom.

..........

Jamie saw it, plain as day. He couldn't bear it. He couldn't bear to see the pain in Claire's eyes. It was the first thing Jamie noticed before all the insanity began. His head was reeling, and his heart was fragmenting piece by piece as he bore witness to Claire's anguish. In all his life, Jamie had never seen hurt with that much intensity, and it pained him to see Claire like this. He wanted to go to her, but he felt trapped. Confined. Ambushed. Everything was happening too fast for him to get a grip of reality. Annalise's hand felt heavy like manacles on his arm, weighing him down. 

"Smile sweetheart, you wanted this remember. Now look happy," Annalise said through her teeth as she smiled and posed at every snap of the camera.

That's when he snapped. Seething, he could no longer go on with the pretence. "There is no engagement!" Jamie bellowed, making everyone nearby jump. Not caring anymore, he roughly grabbed Annalise by the elbow, steering her through the crowd, brushing past stunned onlookers.

"Jamie! Let go...you're hurting me," she hissed as she tried to yank off her arms from his firm grip.

Ignoring her, Jamie led her out of the ballroom and into an empty conference room. He was fervently praying that Claire would still be around once he dealt with this awful mess.  Oh, Christ Claire, I'm so sorry!  Away from prying eyes, he turned Annalise around to face him, maybe too harshly. He didn't give a damn. "What the fuck was that all about?" Jamie asked in a dangerously, calm voice. He wanted to yell at her but refrained from doing so.

"What do you mean Jamie... I thought you wanted this..." she retorted.

"No, I didna want this. I never did. Neither did ye." He snarled, his temper was quickly mounting.

She glowered at him. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Noticing her confusion, he took a deep breath, feeling frustrated and sick in the stomach. "All these is a fucking farce. Don't ye get it?" He ran his hand through his hair in agitation. "Think back, Annalise, think back for Christ sake! Think back to the time when we started seeing each other. We were dating...we were young....we didn't even talk about any future. Ye loved yer parties, and I was intoxicated with my achievement. Neither of us understood the concept of marriage, let alone even thought about it. When my uncle fell into hardship, I wanted to help. Then yer father came along and dangled the opportunity for me to retrieve my uncle's vineyard...well, that's if I married ye. I dinna ken what he's been telling ye but back then I was willing to do anything to save my uncle's failing business...." Jamie's words came pouring out, unrestrained.

They were both still for a while. Jamie watched Annalise absorbed his revelation.

Then she closed her eyes and exhaled deeply as if a burden was lifted. She lingered a moment to compose herself. "It's all about those shares, then?"

Jamie nodded. 

Pondering, she carried on. "So papa bribed you." It was stated more as a fact rather than a question. She shook her head in disbelief and paced back and forth until she found her next words. "Thinking back...you know... us...I did like you Jamie, and you liked me, and we had fun, but we were never in-love, were we?"

"No. We weren't," Jamie admitted. "But I liked ye enough to go through with the marriage. I thought I was doing something honourable by agreeing to yer father's wishes. But I was wrong. I know that now. Ye would have hated me eventually if I married ye and brought ye here to Scotland. Ye've never liked it here. And I don't want to be anywhere else in the world, but here in the highlands." Jamie paused, trying to think about the best way to soften the blow. "If it's any consolation to ye, I would have tried my utmost best to be a good husband, but that's no guarantee for a happy marriage."

" Fils de pute!"  she cursed under her breath.  " My papa is one manipulative, piece of shit! And it's true...I hate it here. The rain, the greyness, the cold. It rains all the time and living here would have made me miserable." She paused, taking a deep breath. "You see Jamie, I have always followed papa's orders. I had no choice. I've never worked a day in my life, and he holds the purse's string. Sometimes he would threaten me if I didn't comply. His usual threat was to cut off my allowance. So if he says jump, the only acceptable response would be, how high? Do you remember Charles Gauloise? I was in love with him, but he was married. We were having an affair, and I wanted him to leave his wife. So when you asked me to marry you, I thought it was a perfect opportunity to make him jealous and please papa as well. Papa wanted us married because he thought with your name connected to our family name, it would boost his own business. Then Charles found out about our engagement, and when he promised to leave his wife, I broke off our engagement at once. I thought if Charles married me, I would be free from my father's clutches. Unfortunately, Charles' promises were nothing but empty promises. And I fell more than once for his lies; hence, I broke off our engagement twice. I remember now clearly, how relieved you looked when I broke off our engagement. You didn't even look disappointed."

Ignoring the last statement, Jamie demanded, "And how about tonight? What was that all about? For fuck sake, it was like a fucking circus out there. And you fucking knew well I hated all the media attention."

Annalise sighed, feeling resigned. "Everything that happened tonight was papa's design after you told him you didn't want anything to do with Château Cheval Blanc. He was afraid that if your name weren't attached to the business, it would no longer thrive. God, I don't even know why he is hanging on to that stupid vineyard. He hates it, and he doesn't even know a thing about wine-making. So you did do me a favour by telling those people there's no engagement."

Jamie was stunned by the admission, and he softened up a bit. "Christ Annalise, why didn't ye tell me? I could have helped ye. All this would have never happened if ye told me." 

"Helped me how Jamie? We were both played. I am hopeless without my father's money. Don't get me wrong, he loves me dearly, but he loves himself more. At least now, I don't have to continue this fucking charade."

"Ye're not hopeless Annalise! Ye're a talented painter. Any gallery in Paris will exhibit yer work, and ye have a well-known name to boot." Jamie didn't know whether to feel sorry for her or feel exasperated at her spoiled behaviour. Either way, he was eager to get this conversation over with and go find Claire.

She remained silent, pondering what he just said.

When she didn't say anything, Jamie continued. "Ye see, I hung on to our relationship because I thought one day ye will agree to marry me and finally I would be able to restore Château Cheval Blanc as a Fraser legacy. But like ye, I couldn't keep this up...so I decided to draw the line and give up the vineyard because..."

"Because you're in love," Annalise added sighing. "It's that woman in red, right?"

Jamie nodded, failing miserably to conceal his emotion as the picture of Claire's anguished face replayed on his mind.

"I saw earlier the way you looked at her. You have never looked at me that way...not once," she said sadly, thinking of Charles. 

Jamie didn't want to waste any more time. He had to go and find Claire. "Annalise, I'm sorry...I need to see her now. Will ye be alright if I leave ye?" Jamie asked, his voice hoarse.

She smiled weakly. "Of course. You go get your girl. And I'm so sorry for fucking this up for you."

"No lass, it was me who fucked up. I should have told her the truth from the beginning. Dinna worry." He smiled back in reassurance.

"So friends again?"

"Aye, of course."

"Hug?"

"NO! No hug. No offence but I'm in a lot of trouble already so we will leave it at that if ye dinna mind."

Annalise laughed. "Go then!"

Just as Jamie was about to leave, the door opened. "Jaime, we have a problem. Yer uncle is blind drunk and causing problems," Rupert announced.  What the fuck now!

..........

Claire applied cold water to her neck and temple after sitting in the toilet cubicle for the longest time. Despite the heat on her face, she was shivering. Claire didn't want to think of Jamie. She didn't want to cry. All she wanted to do was go home, curl up in a ball and sleep.  It's alright Beauchamp, you can do this! Just breathe! 

The sudden opening of the door made her jump, and the sound of the music from the ballroom drifted in, reminding Claire where she was. As she turned around, she found herself staring at a very inebriated Dougal McKenzie, Jamie's uncle.

"Weel, weel, what do we have here? The pretty wee lady in red..." he slurred as he swayed on his feet. He had his hands on both sides of the door frame to support himself, and his handsome face was puffy from too much alcohol.

"Dougal, this is the ladies room..." Claire explained, hoping he will turn around and leave. His presence was giving her ominous feeling.

Dougal gave her a lopsided smile as he took a step forward. "Och I see that...an' I can see one very, very pretty lady."

Claire tried to go around him, but he was reaching out for her. Slightly tipsy herself, she floundered a bit and almost lost her balance.

"Come here and give me a wee kiss. I promise not to tell Jamie..." he garbled as he took another step forward.

There was hardly any room to manoeuvre as Claire tried to sidestep him. Before she could make her next move, she was cornered as he pitched forward and grabbed hold of her waist. He pulled her to him as he groped at her breast, but the struggle was futile - he was a large man, and his grip was strong despite his state. She tried to squirm out of his embrace. "Let go of me you damn fool or I'll scream!" 

She tried her hardest to push from his chest, but he didn't budge. Then panic set in when he tried to lift her dress, and before she could scream, a large hand took him by the shoulder and the next thing she knew, Dougal was slumped on the floor.

Claire stared in disbelief. It was all like a blur. One minute he was pawing her and the next minute, he's been decked.

"Oh my God, oh my God, he's hurt!" she whispered. Claire didn't even notice Jamie standing there. Everything happened so fast that she didn't see him throwing a punch. All her focus was on the injured man, sprawled lifeless-like at her feet. Oblivious to Jamie's presence, she knelt down by the immobile body and checked his pulse. The doctor in her had taken over, and everything else evaporated.

Then he touched her. "Sassenach are ye alright?" Jamie asked softly as he took off his plaid to placed it over her shoulders. He noticed she had been trembling the whole time. To his relief, she wrapped it tight around her.

"Oh Jamie, it's you...please help me turn him over to his side. He's had too much alcohol, he might choke on his own vomit," she said in a voice that was flat and unfeeling. "And please call an ambulance just to make sure he's alright." 

Jamie helped her turn Dougal but was confused with her response. Claire seemed to be in some sort of trance.

Then she stood up, pulling the plaid tighter around her. "Right Jamie, I have to get going...and remember, call an ambulance please." She patted him on the arm before turning away,

Gently he touched her, again "Sassenach, please look at me, we need to talk...please..." Jamie was beginning to be alarmed.  Oh, God, Claire, please.

The moment he touched her for the second time, Claire suddenly snapped out from her stupor and whipped around to face him, her eyes bright with anger, and her cheeks flushed red. "Don't touch me, " she hissed through clenched teeth. Jamie nearly staggered backwards at the sudden change of demeanour.

"Sassenach please, it's not what ye think..." he pleaded. Jamie was groping in the dark for the right words.

"Not what I think? How do you know what I think! Tell me this James Fraser..." she stepped forward, her face contorted in pain and was mere inches from his, "What am I to you? Huh? TELL ME!"

"Claire, I beg ye, come with me. We have a room here in the hotel..." he implored. He wanted to take her in his arms and soothe her, but he knew there was very little chance of that happening soon.

"A room? Is that it... you think I'll come up with you and everything will be alright? How many women have you taken in that room? And answer my question...WHAT AM I TO YOU? Answer me, damn you." Claire was panting like some wild banshee, and she couldn't stop. "Well, you know what, you fucking bloody Scot, I think you think that I'm just another girl you can stick your cock in and warm your bed while we play little cottage in the woods. That's all I am to you. I'm just another cunt to fuck. Isn't it? Admit it, James Fraser, ADMIT IT YOU BASTARD!" This time Claire was yelling.

Jamie grabbed her arm and pulled her closer until they were nose to nose. His anger was beginning to rise, not towards Claire but because of the whole situation. He only wanted a perfect evening for her, and it was all going very wrong. "Sassenach, ye have a filthy mouth on ye...will ye pipe down please."

"I DON'T FUCKING CARE YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" she yelled.

There was a moment of silence as Jamie and Claire swayed from each other, both stunned by the outburst. They were both hurting and had no idea how to end the madness. Claire wanted so much to be in his arms, but there were so many unanswered questions. And Jamie thought it would be as easy as saying I'm sorry.

He took a cautious step towards her, and for the first time in his life, Jamie bared his true feelings. Gone was the mask. The veil lifted, and his face was one of despair. "Sassenach please, ye're tearing my guts out."

Claire saw his pain, and she wanted to reach out, but before she could, Annalise showed up at the door, her eyes widening at the sight of Dougal's slumped body. "Is everything alright? I heard shouting." At the sight of her, Claire remembered why they were in this predicament. She felt her blood boil all over again.

Seizing control, Claire straightened her shoulder and stared directly at Annalise, "I was just telling your fiance that he should remind his uncle to keep his cock to himself." Claire looked back at Jamie. "I guess he had a boner to pick with me."

Then she walked off, leaving them to stare after her.

"Sassenach! Wait!"

She kept walking, Jamie's plaid still around her and she could smell his aftershave on the fabric. She didn't cry even though her heart was breaking. She kept on walking past a sea of faces aware Jamie was following. She didn't look back. She ignored the nods and glances. She kept walking. Then she bumped into Geillis.

"Claire, we'll take ye home, alright?" She nodded still stupefied from recent events. "Joe and Gail are outside getting the car, and I will get our coats. Will ye wait in the lobby for me?" Claire could only nod again. 

Then she kept on walking again, this time towards the lobby, but Jamie was getting nearer. She quickened her pace and was relieved when she saw Tom Christie. Claire went to him.

"Claire! Are ye alright? Ye don't look too good." He touched her elbow lightly, steering her aside.

"No, I don't feel right. Can you please accompany me outside...Joe is waiting for me there."

"Of course..." Tom put his arms around Claire and escorted her out of the hotel. Jamie could only stand and watch as they walked away.

..........

Jamie left the ball early and went to the cottage. It was very dark. He let himself in, but there was no sign of Claire. He went to the kitchen and saw the pile of morning dishes still unwashed. On the counter was a mug of half-drunk Earl Grey tea. It had Claire's lipstick mark on it. Jaime cleared, washed and dried the dishes. Then he went to the lounge and picked up the cushions from the floor and placed them on the couch and then made his way to the bathroom for a quick shower. In the bedroom, he lied on Claire's side of the bed and hoped that when he wakes up the following morning, everything that happened that night was just a nightmare.

[mobius-prime]

228. Sonic the Hedgehog #160

Birthday Bash! (Part One): Giving and Receiving

Writer: Ian Flynn Pencils: Tracy Yardley! Colors: Jason Jensen

Welcome to the beginning of Ian Flynn's reign, everyone! As many of you will know, Ian is a fan favorite amongst readers of the comics, and for good reason. Objectively, I'd say he has a much better sense than any previous writer of how to construct dynamic and interesting stories, as well as a great head for writing dialogue. Every character has their own unique voice when speaking, and as someone who takes a particular interest in dialogue in her own writing, it's something I admire a lot, especially given how stilted and unnaturally formal a lot of dialogue by Karl and especially Kenders often sounded, regardless of who was speaking. That said, I think that it took a good year or so for him to fully come into his own as head writer for the series, so some earlier issues are a bit strange and not up to par with a lot of his later work. Some of this, to be fair, is due to him essentially playing clean-up for this first year, untangling a lot of the bizarre leftover plot threads that Karl and Kenders left behind, and generally trying to make the world of the comics conform a little better to that of the games. All that aside, anyone reading the comics will likely notice an immediate and apparent improvement in the overall quality of the work starting with this issue. This is helped along, in addition, by none other than the very talented artist Tracy Yardley! who always (well, almost always) introduces himself in the story credits with an exclamation mark. It's kind of his calling card. Tracy took a while to really improve his art as well, so while his earliest issues sometimes have some strange proportions and poses, later on his style became easily one of the most visually attractive and recognizable ones in the series, simplifying a lot of the inconsistencies that many character designs had as well as doing away with the strange pseudo-human proportions that some artists tended to favor, particularly with the female characters. All this said, I will say that Ian isn't going to be immune to my criticism, as while I do recognize his skill as a writer and the good things he brought to the table, there are definitely some problems I have with the way he handled certain things. We'll cross those bridges when we come to them, however, so for now, let's dive into the new world he's creating and see how he does!

Elias and Sonic are walking on the outskirts of Knothole as Elias explains why his father approved the Metal Sonic troopers from last issue. We don't even really get to hear the explanation, but to be fair, we hardly need one, as the idea was so insane to begin with that the only true explanation is that Kenders needed a plot device. Sonic tries to make Elias promise that "you royals" won't hit him with any more weird surprises, and Elias says they only have one more, leading him to a building next to where the Great Oak Slide into the village ends.

I mean, canonically he's supposed to be turning seventeen here, even though realistically he should be turning eighteen, because remember, for him to have turned sixteen in StH#68, had the Robians be deroboticized in early June in StH#123, and still have managed to spend close to a year in space before turning seventeen, literally everything in between the two aforementioned issues would have had to take place in the span of a few weeks - yes, that's counting the month-and-a-half time span that Sonic was confined to Knothole, as well as major events like Eggman's return and the entire Green Knuckles saga. You can see why this huge discrepancy still bothers me, right? Hmph. Anyway, no sooner has the party begun than an explosion destroys the door, and two new players enter the scene - Bean the Dynamite and Bark the Polar Bear from Sonic the Fighters! Nack's been part of the comic for long enough now, so it's cool to see these two make their first appearance. Bark is totally silent - as far as I remember, he never says a single word during the entirety of the comic - but Bean, in the absence of an obvious personality to draw from in the game, has subsequently been given the personality trait of "criminally insane" in the comics.. He's erratic, he talks to himself, he cracks jokes where jokes really shouldn't be cracked, and most importantly of all, he loves his goddamn bombs. Bean starts chucking said bombs left and right at the various Freedom Fighters in the base, while Sonic tangles with Bark. He seems to think these guys are only after him due to something Evil Sonic did in his place, something which he has by now apparently finally explained to all the women of Knothole, and manages to break away from Bark to stop Bean's bombing spree by pinning him to a wall and asking about Evil Sonic. However, Bean happily insists there's been no mistake and he wasn't even aware of Sonic having an evil twin, nor does he particularly care. Oh, speaking of Evil Sonic…

Huh, it seems that Evil Sonic has actually explained his true identity to Rouge in between their previous failed attempt and now. I'm surprised she hasn't outright abandoned him by now due to Rouge not exactly being evil-aligned to begin with, but I guess the pull of the shiny is just too strong for her to resist. And as it turns out, Bean suffers from a similar insatiable need! Fiona pulls out a ring of keys and shakes them around, completely distracting Bean from his current activity of bashing Sonic's head in, and throws them out the hole he made in the wall, prompting him to immediately abandon everything to chase after them. Fiona then advances on Bark, who by now has gotten himself cornered by every Freedom Fighter in the room, and convinces him to stand down as he's outnumbered. Outside, Bean plays with the keys and talks to them, seemingly convinced that they're a beautiful woman with an "adorable accent" who wants his number, when a suspiciously-Shadow-shaped shadow converges on him, prompting him to try to invite him into smashing Sonic as well. Good luck there, buddy, I don't think Shadow usually runs with crazy…

Geez, Sally, cut Fiona some slack. Not everyone had a squeaky-clean record - hell, just look at Shadow! Back in the Chaos Chamber, Rouge and Evil Sonic begin to battle Locke, who tosses Evil Sonic to the side as he perceives Rouge to be the bigger threat. However, that turns out to be a bit of a bad idea, as with Rouge tied up in the fight, Evil Sonic takes his chance to go after the Master Emerald without her, obviously recognizing it as more than just a shiny trinket.

Back in Knothole, Shadow explains that he's only here to thank Sonic for saving Hope, as he knows he wouldn't have been able to do it on his own, and reminds him that as soon as he leaves this building they're back to being enemies, as Shadow's still aligned with Eggman for now. Sonic, to his credit, seems to recognize that Shadow is only allied with Eggman because he doesn't yet know better, and cheerfully invites him to come back here whenever he cuts out on that deal in the future. It's at this point that everyone realizes Bean has quietly snuck into the brain trust's comms room to casually let Eggman know that he and Bark failed to take Sonic down, and when Fiona ushers him back out of the room, Eggman is only too happy to let Sonic know personally that he wishes him a happy birthday and he's sending him a new, more metallic present. Within seconds a thud outside alerts them to the arrival of this present, and everyone rushes out to see a strange figure emerging from an egg pod - a figure which resolves itself into the combined forms of Crocbot and Octobot, now merged into the singular entity of… Croctobot! (Don't worry, Ian knows just how silly this is and even acknowledges it next issue.) But what of Evil Sonic and Rouge? How is their fight faring against Locke after the former got knocked aside? Well, Evil Sonic takes his chance to dramatically emerge from behind the emerald as the other two get ready to continue their fight…

Plot twist! How many people actually didn't know by now that Evil Sonic and Scourge were the same person? I'm guessing there had to be at least a few of you. You can actually already see Ian's new plans being put into action - it's very telling of his intentions when the very first issue he ever pens immediately makes a point of distinguishing a rather tired and boring character into a new and improved version of himself, with a unique name and new, visually distinct look. Apparently Kenders, who if you recall is the original creator of Evil Sonic, never liked this and continued to insist on referring to him as Evil Sonic, but screw that, Scourge is a much more interesting character and this was a change that sorely needed to be made.

Sonic Rush (Part One of Two)

Writer/Pencils: Tania Del Rio Colors: Ben Hunzeker

So unfortunately, Sonic Adventure 2 isn't the only case in the preboot of a partial adaption of a game being included without any actual ending. Sonic Rush, the game, introduces Blaze, a cat from an alternate dimension that is controlled by the Sol Emeralds rather than the Chaos Emeralds, and most of the plot revolves around the Sol Emeralds ending up in Sonic's dimension and her trying to recollect them to bring back to her own world. However, things are a bit different in the comics universe. In this story, Blaze comes to Sonic's dimension because, apparently, she's been having nonstop dreams about him, dreams which show her visions of Eggman threatening the Sol Emeralds and Sonic helping her protect them. She's frustrated that she would have to rely on anyone else to help her protect the emeralds at all, believing them to be her sole responsibility, but nonetheless she's tracked Sonic to Knothole. However, while deliberating her next move, a squad of swatbots - yes, ordinary ones, it's been a while since we've seen them rather than shadow-bots - happen upon her and decide that they should take her in for interrogation.

Yeah, I guess Blaze doesn't understand the dangers present in this universe yet, does she? An hour or so later, Rotor sends for Sonic, informing him that they caught the aftermath of Blaze's capture on their video surveillance. Neither of them know who she is, but they decide she can't be from their village, since she left several disabled swatbots behind, while most people in Knothole are noncombatants and those that aren't are accounted for elsewhere. Sonic rushes out to find their trail and tracks them to a nearby facility set up amidst the trees, and while he begins fighting his way in, the scientific robots in the building go about studying their new specimen.

Sorry, but why the hell would Eggman be looking to add some random Mobian to his team? He only likes robots anyway, and tends to either betray or enslave every living being that comes to him. Blaze suddenly awakens and becomes furious - not that she's been captured, mind you, but that they took off her coat while studying her. She must be really goddamn attached to her coat, because she starts absolutely trashing the place, exploding into flames and screaming so loudly that Sonic becomes genuinely worried about her wellbeing, rushing to where he last heard her. The door of the lab she's in is completely blasted off its hinges by the force of Blaze's explosions, but thankfully after this she seems to have found her coat, because the blasts subside and she appears in the doorway wearing it once again, staring down at an utterly shocked Sonic with a look of fiery fury (the literal flames coating her entire body probably help with the "fiery" bit). Uh… good luck dealing with that, buddy boy!

[arecomicsevengood]

Alan Moore’s WildC.A.T.S

I gotta wonder if Alan Moore is pretty happy about his nineties period of working for Image Comics, inasmuch as it’s out of print and no one asks him about it. Like, doing business with a person like Rob Liefeld, whose career is a series of shitty self-sabotaging business decisions, may be preferable to working with the people at DC Comics who know what they’re doing enough to continually screw a man over.

These WildC.A.T.S comics are not by any means great, but DC owns the rights to them but hasn’t kept them in print. The trades I have are from 1999, and Alan Moore’s name is not printed anywhere on the cover. This might be because there are way too many artists to credit alongside him. Travis Charest draws the covers to the trades, Homecoming and Gang War, and while he is easily the best artist represented within their pages, he definitely doesn’t draw the majority of the run. Charest’s style is fascinating. He must’ve been the best artist Wildstorm had at the time, and putting him on a book together with Moore could’ve been a real gunning-for-greatness move. He’s genuinely slick, in a way that reinforces how Jim Lee is comparatively noodling, with all this aggressive hatching and needless detail. He’s closer to John Cassaday, or latter-period Jae Lee. There’s a sense of a realism to anatomy and proportion, and this sense of dynamic lighting so that everything feels posed, like fashion photography or a movie poster, that gets configured into sequences which, while they don’t really work in terms of action sequences, are able to sell the melodrama of superhero comics, by virtue of looking cool. Maybe that’s overselling it: It’s more like, his figures definitely look like they’re posing all the time, but his staging is solid, and they end with more dignity, while the rest of the Homage Studios C-listers filling these books have a chaotic ineptness that makes action scenes feel exhausting to look at. He definitely possesses the major flaws associated with the Image artists, even if I’m saying he’s “better” than them: He doesn’t draw backgrounds if he can help it, and he is nowhere near fast enough to draw a monthly book. The best issue is split between Travis Charest and Kevin Nowlan. Kevin Nowlan’s pretty great, but he has such a weird career, and has drawn so little, it’s always unclear if it’s meant to be a big event when he turns up or if he’s being treated like a journeyman fill-in artist. He shows up here for one issue, but it’s an oversized anniversary issue, and he’s really good in it, and he letters his pages. Nowlan, of course, would work with Alan Moore on the Jack B. Quick strip in Tomorrow Stories, but there’s only a few of those, with my understanding for that being those were pretty challenging for Moore to write. While I might imagine a Moore/Charest/Nowlan superhero comic would be a perpetual seller, that wouldn’t have been hard to make happen, maybe none of the principal players would’ve been interested in that.

Moore’s storytelling here, moreso than on Supreme, is deliberately dumbed down to accommodate the Image style. What emerges is an object lesson in how something can be totally dumb but still basically work. To get around the fact that his artist cannot handle a monthly book, he splits the cast. Half of each issue takes place on Earth, the other half in space. The stuff in space upends the book’s status quo, but also feels like he’s fleshing out incredibly skeletal characters in a way that makes them, not well-rounded, but interesting enough for organic conflicts to emerge between them. Alan Moore has this backhanded compliment he gives Stan Lee in an interview somewhere, where he says that Stan made superheroes two-dimensional, whereas before they were one-dimensional, and here it seems like be’s basically doing the same thing. The stuff in space is largely about caste systems and political conflict: It’s genuinely interesting, and also seems like it was inherent within the premise of each character but just not worked out at all. It really seems like a smart way to write dumb characters, that is simplistic enough that, when the next writer comes on to the book who’s not as smart as Alan Moore, they should be able to keep rolling with it no problem, because a caste system is inherently simplistic and plainly fucked up, and therefore a source of simple conflict.

Most pages seem to have, on average, three panels apiece. He gives Charest an issue where like half of the pages are pin-ups of a character flying. It works pretty well at being stupid! The characters are dumb, the whole engine of the plot on Earth is that the characters are actively being manipulated into escalation of violence and conflict. The main new character he introduces is a violent cyborg who loves Trent Reznor. She’s named Ladytron, and I briefly thought the electroclash band was named after this character, which would’ve been insane, before Googling to realize the way more understandable truth, which is that both band and character are named after a Roxy Music song. She’s an example of this thing that also characterizes Warren Ellis’ Stormwatch run, where the creators seem encouraged to come up with new characters, but they also basically must feel like they need to, in order to come up with something they can actually write because what exists in the book’s history is this weird form of baggage where the preexisting characters in a book are just fundamentally empty. Ladytron is sort of astoundingly generic and of-her-time, a cyborg lady that just loves killing! kind of like Deadpool or Lobo but as a woman with eyebrow piercings! in a way where I actually do get on board and think, this is a cool character, a good addition to the WildC.A.T.S group dynamic. There’s a completely unearned revelation that she was sexually abused thrown out there at the end of the run which is maybe the most egregious example of Alan Moore putting sexual assault in his comics ever, notable even if you’re inclined to forgive it in most other instances.

Maybe it would’ve been okay if the book had been drawn consistently well? Because, after Moore reunites his bifurcated cast, Charest leaves the book, never to return, and goddamn does the book lose momentum. This coincides with the interjection of a linewide crossover, during which one of the main characters in the book gains some more backstory, and also happens around the same time the story is wrapping itself up and having its other plotline culminate. It’s funny, the book could’ve easily been a lot better, which wouldn’t have brought it up to great, but rather the standard of “readable junk,” but it also feels like no one involved was that interested in reaching that level with any regularity.

[agarthanguide]

i'm obsessed with klimt!jester and byzantine!molly, my gosh. what wonderful ideas you had for all of them! how long did it take you to settle on each inspiration, and what other ideas did you almost go with?

This is a fun question.  Here’s how it went (behind the cut because this got so very long)-

Caleb happened first, and without any intention of doing a whole set. I wanted to try to do Van Gogh’s coloring thing, and Caleb seemed like a really good target.  It was deeply fun.

Beau- Hey, I like this Caleb piece!  What if I do art stuff for all of the M9? I wanna try those long inky LIchtenstein lines!  And what could go wrong?  Surely this won’t extend to two months of extensive research and work!

Molly- As soon as I decided to draw Beau, I knew I wanted Molly to be some highly iconographic thing with glorioles and gold leaf and things.  I have a longstanding fascination with Catholic and Orthodox iconography and gosh do I love messing with gold leaf.  Early concepts included some Fra Angelico action (he does this thing where you texture the gold leaf to create patterns in the frame, which i find absolutely stunning.  This is also a Big Look in 17th Century Spanish polychrome sculpture, which I obviously couldn’t pastiche directly, but wanted to reference, if the opportunity came up)-

I also considered going a bit Russian.  Russian iconography has probably the most opportunities for adding layers of symbolism (it just occurred to me that I probably would have needed to find someone who understood cyrillic to make it work)-

In the end, I was paging through a book of decorative motifs and was reminded of the Byzantine mosaics in Ravenna, which are probably the most iconic of the form outside of the Hagia Sophia. I decided that I’d probably have lots of other opportunities to paint, and I wanted to try my hand at a realistic tile look.

Caduceus- I thought of Mucha straight away, but I really didn’t want to do it, because I had already seen it done several times, and I thought those other artists had done really well, and that the concept was a closed book.  The other big concept was Picasso’s Old Guitarist-

It’s got the lankiness and the stylization and I love the pose, but in the end I just really thought that Caduceus was more Art Nouveau than expressionist.  Also my brother was really voting against any pose that included a profile, because I had never drawn Cad in anything other than profile.  So that cinched it.

Jester- I never considered anything else but Klimt. I tried hard to think of something else, because my last two brain cells have just enough self awareness to know that Klimt is way, way above me in terms of pattern and texture and motif, and I was pretty sure it was gonna be too difficult for me.  It was, by the way.  I stopped long before I wanted to and didn’t include a lot of what I had dreamed of adding.

Matt- Following my fascination with iconography, I still wanted to do the heavily painted, loaded with symbolism and rich color portrait that Molly wasn’t.  I looked at artists like Ghirlandaio, Castagno, and Jan van Eyck (I never considered Da Vinci, his sensitivity is way outside my orbit), but in the end I kept coming back to Holbein, who really raises the bar on color choice and symbolism. I love that all his portraits seem to be set in plain or dark spaces, but are somehow glowing and mysterious. I didn’t have the guts to put in a deep, perspective-y background, but omg I wish- 

I mean I’m not a fucking wizard.  But holy shit look at that.  The notes and crap hanging off the wall all look like clues.  Like Sherlock Holmes would be able to write the whole life story of this guy.  It’s almost trompe l’oeil.

Yasha- First concept for Yasha was a Minoan fresco from Knossos-

If I was designing Yasha’s tribe, I think I’d go for a melange of Mongolian and Minoan, throwing in some Tibetan textile patterns.  I just think this looks so much like her, and also some other Minoan frescoes include insane levels of ritualized badassery, like Bull Leaping and young girls offering saffron to incarnate goddesses.  I just love it. In the end, I was worried that the relative clean-ness and simplicity of the lines in the Minoan style would make it look like I was giving Yasha short shrift.  This feels a little ridiculous to me now, but I had just come off three in a row that took more than ten hours. My next thought was the Book of Hours of Joanna of Castile.  The thought here was that some of the pages actually look like Yasha’s book of pressed flowers-

This felt like a totally winning direction to me.  As I researched illuminated books more, though, my concept started to broaden and get more stylized, and I just went with it.  I think it turned out okay.

Fjord- Fjord is handsome and iconic, so the ideas flowed easily for him.  The first and most obvious was a Fabio-era (read- 80s to early 90s) romance novel cover-

I didn’t go with it because the Tusk Love thing meant that a lot of other artists had tried it already, and many of them had done a damn fine job, and I didn’t think that I had anything to add. The next concept was David’s Napoleon-

Very solid concept, but two issues- 1. Most portraits of Napoleon are pretty standard, in the mold of, say, Holbein, which I had already done.  2. The horse portrait is awesome, but I think Fjord had only been on horses circumstantially.  I couldn’t picture him on a horse. He’s not iconically horsey, he’s iconically sailor-y.  I can’t confirm whether or not he had a moorbounde when I painted this, but I know I hadn’t seen any of those episodes, yet.  So. All of this dithering kept going until the DAY I STARTED PAINTING.  And suddenly pulp cover fell out. I love pulp art.  This is the second fandom I’ve done pulp art covers for.

Nott- Full credit to @essayofthoughts, who came up with the playing card thing right at the get go.  I wasn’t sold, though, and floated two other concepts. First was a Mughal Miniature-

The thing about these is that they are very often like little comics.  On one side of the painting, you can have the main character at a lake, picking daisies or being drowned or whatever, and then on the other side that same character can be picking pockets in a crowded bar.  There’s loads of opportunity for detail and symbols and fun stuff like that.  On the other hand- I’m not a goddam genius.  I could not have taken in the style and substance of Mughal storytelling and then just spit it out in a few short weeks and done it any justice. Nope, that concept was just too difficult and too far above me.My other concept was Millais’ Ophelia-

This one might have been amazing, but the second half of the 19th century was getting very crowded indeed, with Caleb, Caduceus, and Jester all having concepts from that era.  That and I wanted something more graphic artsy than painty to round out the series.  Beau was starting to feel like an outlier and I wanted to loop her in closer to the bunch, if you know what I mean.

Okay that was a lot, but I apparently had a lot to share.  I hope you found the unused concepts interesting, at least.  What would you have done, were you me? I would love to hear outtakes from alternative universes.

[the-irish-mayhem]

One of the mods shows up 15 minutes late with Starbucks. This week has been insane, BUT never fear! The stuff WILL get posed. This is for Fosterson Week Day 5: Throwback Thorsday. We’re fudging the timeline a little bit--imagine that the Thor movie took place around the same time/a bit after the first Iron Man movie in 2008. More of a sketch, a collection of moments than a true fic. (but there is something resembling plot here)

Loki never sends the Destroyer to Midgard.

Read on AO3.

destiny, disrupted

Here is a truth: Loki loves Thor.

Here is another truth: Loki also hates Thor.

Here is the most relevant truth: Loki loves his mother and respects her counsel above all others.

At the end of the day, this is what matters most. Odin sleeps on, Frigga advises her son how to rule, and Loki (mostly) listens.

Thor remains on Midgard. Mjolnir lays dormant in the desert, the magic patient and steadfast. The Destroyer remains in the Vault where it belongs, and the Warriors Three grudgingly accept Thor’s banishment; after all, Loki seems to be (mostly) listening to Frigga, and they are loyal to the throne. Heimdall watches carefully.

The realms continue to turn, Yggdrasil’s branches trembling in the galactic ballet.

Something is drawing near--but not yet.

Years later, he marries Jane in the desert where they met. The marks of the Bifrost have long since blown away by the sharp winds, but it still feels as close to his first home as he can get. It’s a small wedding, made up of the few friends they have plus Jane’s mom and officiated by a local Native American minister.

She throws her arms around his neck when they are proclaimed man and wife, she kisses him like he is her anchor, and he wonders how he ever thought he’d been in love before. He dips her dramatically, and she giggles against his lips. Their small audience applauds, Darcy wolf whistles, and Thor would never have thought he could ever be satisfied, could be happy, with something so small and humble, but it’s perfect, it’s wonderful, and he gets to call Jane Foster his wife.

He takes her last name--she never asked him to, but it seems apt, to Thor, to do it. He is no longer Thor Odinson. The name no longer fits him. His father is gone; his last action had been to cast his son out. It seemed almost appropriate, honorable even, to respect that last ruling by giving up his name. On Midgard, he is someone new. He isn’t the crown prince, he is simply a man. (A man who loves a woman more than life itself.) A new identity, a new life, a new beginning.

And so they begin life as Mr. and Dr. Thor and Jane Foster.

(Distantly, Thor hopes Heimdall has told his mother that her son has happily wed.)

(Distantly, Thor hopes his father would’ve been proud of the small life he is building.)

(And a small life--)

(It doesn’t seem so bad now.)

THEN

SHIELD had left several months after Thor’s arrival. Packed up the facility after it became clear nothing was going to move Mjolnir, and no new data would be gathered from it. Coulson left them a business card, which Thor talked Jane out of throwing away outright. (He knows that having SHIELD on their side might prove useful in the future, even if Jane continues to grumble about jack-booted stormtroopers stealing her life’s work.)

After almost a year, the agent following them finally left too.

Jane rebuilt, Thor helping where he was able, happy to simply be around her. Her energy was unlike anyone he’s ever known, vibrant and frenetic and with an unbridled intelligence that he thought his brother would’ve liked.

Their first kiss was on the roof, late at night with a fire in front of them, Thor pointing out where his planet would be.

“The light from my sun hasn’t reached us yet,” he had said.

“It might in about two thousand more years, if my estimates were right about distance,” Jane had replied.

She’d been looking up, using her hand like a galactic wayfinder of old to measure the stars. The fire glowed orange on her skin, illuminating her eyes like coals. She’s a supernova of her own making, and he’d always known there was something special about her, but in that moment, he’d been struck not just by her beauty in the gentle slope of her nose and cheekbones, but the effortless way she’d folded him into her life, the way she accepted his story--she’d run an estimate on distance because he’d asked her to in a fierce bout of homesickness. (And even if the answer wasn’t great, it was an answer, and then she’d reached out and held his hand and asked him to tell her about Asgard.)

When he kissed her on the rooftop, she didn’t seem surprised--she just leaned into him and let the embers between them spark into flames.

NOW

“It’s a letter from SHIELD.”

“Oh?”

“They want you to advise on a quote ‘top secret project of high scientific importance’ unquote.”

Jane snorts. “They can eat my shorts. It set my research back months to rebuild all my equipment they stole.”

“Maybe you should read the letter,” Thor offers.

Jane waves him off, returning to the small piece of equipment she’s slowly soldering together. “Don’t need to.”

“Shouldn’t you be wearing a mask?” he asks, concerned. “Those fumes can’t be good for the baby.”

She sits up a bit. “It’s only a bit of copper. But I’ll wear one if it makes you feel better.”

“It will.”

Jane gives him a small smirk and a wink as she stands from her station. She’s not showing much yet--she’s just barely out of the first trimester, but Thor can’t help but glance at her belly, at their little miracle.

He looks back to the letter. When Jane returns, mask in place, he says, “How much did you say the university was paying you for your research position?”

Her snort is even more incredulous than before. “Not enough.”

Thor glances down at the letter in his hand, and counts out the zeros after SHIELD’s base salary for the offered ‘long term advisory and research position.’

“I do think you should read this.”

She sighs, and holds out her free hand without looking up.

He can tell exactly when she reaches the “we hope this to be fair and adequate compensation for the services you will provide” portion of the letter based on her eyebrows jumping straight up and the soft “Holy shit,” falling out of her mouth.

“We did need to get out of the one bedroom before the little one makes an appearance,” Thor offers.

“Shit,” Jane says again. “We could forget that shitty two bedroom place we were looking at in Santa Fe.” It’s a soft comment, more of an idle observation than a commitment.

“So you’ll call them?”

“I’ll think about it.”

(She calls them that night, and is on a plane for an interview within 36 hours.)

THEN

In the early days of their courtship, he’d tried every job available to him. He’d worked construction, waited tables at Izzy’s, bartended, answered phones at the sheriff’s office, and sold secondhand furniture. In truth, he did not particularly hate any of these jobs--they just hardly seemed worthwhile to do for the rest of his life.

He’d been used to being significant in a way that being a human man couldn’t quite match. Going from galactically known prince and military leader of a planetary superpower to a small town bartender was a jarring transition, to say the least.

The only place he’d found where that feeling of insignificance faded was at Jane’s side. He’d never had an eye for the technicalities of magic, but he remembered enough from his schooling to be able to help her interpret some of what she was looking at; she was certainly clever enough to fill any gaps in his own knowledge.

“I could use another intern,” Jane had mused one day. Darcy had gone back to Culver after her semester with Jane had finished with six college credits under her belt and a promise to stay in touch.

(“How do you feel about student-teacher relationships?” he’d asked cheekily later on.)

(She’d slapped his shoulder, but given her lips on his not a moment later, he supposed that was his answer.)

NOW

Their new home is lovely. Jane had been added to SHIELD’s payroll two months ago, and they’d collected enough savings to put down a sizable down payment on a nice three bedroom house about a twenty minute drive from SHIELD’s base.

She still hasn’t managed to talk SHIELD into letting her bring him with her.

“They’re fishing for information about you, I know they are. They keep saying shit like ‘oh, your research assistant hasn’t cleared our background checks, but if you help us fill in the gaps, we can do something for you.’ Pffft. Like I’m going to fall for that.”

“And I’m only the research assistant?” he asks from his place by the stove, tossing his chopped bell peppers into the frying pan with the onions.

Jane rolls her eyes and plops down at the kitchen table. “Right? It’s not like they don’t know we’re married.”

“They literally helped me get my driver’s license that lists my name.”

She gives him a helpless shrug. “They have a lot of questions about where you come from.”

“Perhaps we tell them everything. Phil Coulson isn’t so bad, despite what you think.”

Jane growls. “Why you insist on being friends with him I’ll never understand.”

Thor shrugs and bends to check his roast in the oven. “He is a nice fellow.”

“A nice fellow who stole all my research.”

Their doorbell rings. Thor moves to answer it, but Jane flaps a hand at him. “No, no, I’ve got it. You’ve got dinner going.” She slides up behind him and hugs him around the waist, kissing his shoulder blade before stepping away. “Love you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he answers as she leaves the kitchen. He takes two plates from the cupboard and wonders who could be at their door. He has invited Coulson for dinner in the past (hoping that his wife would bury the hatchet once she got to know him), but he hardly seems like the type to show up if he hasn’t informed the hosts of his arrival.

He’s in the midst of carrying the plates to the table when Fandral, Sif, Hogun and Volstagg walk into his kitchen.

The plates slip right out of his fingers and smash against the tile floor.

(Once the fragments are cleaned up, his friends tell him what has transpired on Asgard in his years of absence. Loki lied, his father was never dead, and a few months ago emerged from the Odinsleep. Loki disappeared soon after, and they’ve heard disturbing rumblings about Loki partnering with the Mad Titan.)

(“We have reliable sources saying he’s hunting for something called the Tesseract,” Sif says.)

(“This Tesseract,” Jane says, “wouldn’t happen to be like… a small-ish, blue, glowing cube would it?”)

(“Yes, that exactly,” Sif says, surprised.)

(Jane winces. “I think I know where you can find it.”)

THEN

Jane liked to cuddle. Especially when she was sated and sleepy, her limbs would tangle around him like an affectionate octopus. It was one of those nights when she asked him, “Would you go back?”

“Hm?” he asked, mind addled by sex and the late hour.

“If you got the chance to go back to Asgard, be who you used to be. Would you take it?”

“I doubt I’ll ever get that chance.”

“Humor me,” she said, insistent in a way that tells him this is far more important to her than she’s willing to explicitly vocalize.

He stared at the ceiling in silence for a long moment, considering his answer, because she deserves a fully honest one.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. “I don’t think I could ever be who I used to be. I haven’t used magic in so many years, I feel like I can’t properly imagine it anymore.” He shifted to look at her. Her head was on his chest, and she steadily met his gaze, brown eyes wide and accepting. “The only way I can imagine going back is if I go back with you,” he said.

(Not long after that, they said I love you for the first time.)

(A half a year after that, Thor asked her to become his wife.)

(Inscribed on the inside of their wedding bands is the phrase Home is wherever you are.)

BREAK

When Jane shows up to the SHIELD base with her husband plus four honest-to-goodness Viking warriors at her back and requests to speak with Agent Coulson the agent on gate duty scrambles to fulfill her request.

While Jane handles the particulars of getting several guests in past security, his friends encircle him, staring at him like he’s a headless banshee. “What?” he asks.

“You’re married,” Hogan states, as though it’s obvious.

“I am.”

“And you’re expecting a child,” Sif says.

“Is there a point to stating the obvious?”

They all look at each other, and then back at him as though he is missing the obvious.

“The only one who was less likely to settle down was me,” Fandral says, an emphatic hand placed over his chest.

Thor shrugs. “I’ve changed.” He looks past them, to where Jane is emphatically gesturing at the agent who is clearly not moving fast enough in getting her what she wants and smiles. “She is everything I never knew I needed in a package I never expected.”

“I think it’s a good change,” Volstagg says proudly. “Becoming a father does tend to mature someone quite rapidly.” He steps forward to give Thor a hearty slap on the shoulder. Forgetting that his friend is no longer Aesir, the gesture nearly dislocates the joint and Thor struggles to stay on his feet.

“This new Thor, I like him!” Volstagg crows.

(The other three don’t look entirely convinced yet, but seem more or less willing to accept him as he is now.)

(Thor loves his friends--he knows them as well as anyone, and thinks that they will come to understand his new life.)

(He knows they want to ask if he will come home.)

(He knows what he will answer.)

THEN

“You don’t have any strong feeling about flower arrangements for the wedding, do you?” Thor asked.

Jane looked up from the book she was reading with a quizzical look on her face. “Uh, no? We’re getting married out in the middle of the desert.” She pauses. “Why? Do you?”

Thor had been idly browsing online and-- “This flower,” he had turned the screen to Jane and she leaned forward. “What is it called?”

“I think it’s a calla lily?” She squinted a little. “Definitely calla lily. They’re a pretty popular wedding flower.”

Thor hummed softly in contemplation. “Do you like them?” he asked.

“They’re pretty and they smell nice, so I guess.”

Thor went quiet for a moment, his eyes unseeing, and Jane bookmarked her book and set it aside. She scooted into his side on the couch and seemed to wake him from whatever spell he’d been under.

“Where did you go?” she asked.

“Just remembering,” he answered. “My mother liked to raise flowers. The palace gardens were almost entirely her handiwork. She was a talented sorceress, so she could’ve easily used her magic to make her garden as beautiful as it was, but she never did. She told me that sometimes the easiest thing isn’t the right thing.” He chuckled a bit at that. “She had lots of gardening life wisdom for us.

“Anyway, her favorite flower was the Queth Blossom. They look almost just like these,” he said.

“Then let’s get them for the wedding--I changed my mind, I have a very strong opinion about flower arrangements and I think they should be calla lilies.” Jane had said; he still remembers the way his heart leapt, and then melted, at her simple declaration. The way she simply said of course to something to remember his mother by. The way she could make him happy by just existing, by just being who she is.

(Jane would eventually tell everyone at the wedding who would listen that the flower arrangements were done in memory of his mother.)

(He loves her.)

NOW

The Tesseract is underwhelming at first, a shiny bauble like millions of others across the universe. Then it opens a portal and Loki emerges from the other side.

Underwhelmed is suddenly the least of Thor’s emotions.

Before Loki can stand and take in the room, Thor shoves Jane under a desk, praying to any deity that will listen that he doesn’t notice her. He can’t bring himself to hide with her. He has to speak to his brother, he has to know what--

“Loki!” Sif shouts.

Loki looks surprised, his attention pulled towards where the Warriors stand in formation with the SHIELD agents who approached the portal.

“Sir, please put down the spear,” calls out Fury.

A blast from the weapon takes down three agents before Thor can say anything.

“Loki! Stop!” Thor shouts, running from his meager cover behind the desk.

Loki knocks back the last of his opponents, downing even Sif and the Warriors with a power that is absolutely beyond anything he knew Loki possessed.

Loki’s eyes find Thor, and Thor barely recognizes the unhinged look in his eye.

“What happened to you?” Thor asks, a soft and genuine query because his brother looks unwell; gaunt, tired, and plain rabid.

Loki doesn’t answer immediately, just stalks forward like a predator.

“I started to see clearly for the first time in my life.”

There are other words, calmly spoken about a world made free from freedom, then Loki drops the visage Thor knows, his skin goes blue and his eyes go red and oh.

(Oh, Loki.)

Thor refuses to falter under the weight of this new truth that he can feel in his bones. He is not mine in blood, but he is my brother. “We were raised together, we played together, we fought together. Do you remember none of that?” Thor asks.

“I remember a shadow,” Loki says softly, stepping closer, skin still blue. “Living in the shade of your greatness.” He laughs. “And who could blame anyone for treating the Frost Giant like an invader who does not belong in his own home?

“And now you are but a man.” He snorts. “A pathetic, human man who can be killed just as easily as everyone else in this room.”

“Spare them,” Thor says. “If you want to take my life as recompense, then--”

(Just his small life. Just his small life with his wife, who he loves, and his unborn child, who he would do anything for. Just his one small life as Thor Foster seems--it seems too big to give up. His heart screams at the unfairness of it all.)

(It is too much to give, it is too much to lose.)

(But if he doesn’t offer to lose it, then everyone will die. He knows that.)

(There’s no such thing as just a small life, Thor knows in that moment. No life in this room is any smaller or bigger than his.)

(He feels like he wants to cry, but he will do it.)

Loki says, “Oh, but I could do that anyway. Besides,” a poisonous grin seeps over his face as he glances over Thor’s shoulder. “It looks like your wife is trying to make trouble for me.”

The floor drops out from under Thor as he looks back to see Jane typing furiously on the control unit that directly affects the Tesseract’s behavior. It’s sparking, just like it did when it opened to bring Loki here, and his brilliant wife is this close to being able to send him away--

Loki sends Thor into a wall with a flick of his fingers. Dazed, possibly concussed, but otherwise unhurt, Thor tries to stand, feels a scream inching out of his throat as he watches Loki magically drag Jane from behind the station.

Thor has never understood what made him worthy of Mjolnir in the first place.

He’d first picked it up in his youth, when he’d been emotional and his magic had been out of control-- Mjolnir had been a focusing point, something to channel himself through, something that felt like an extension of his connection to a storm. He’d been so busy trying to be the best warrior Asgard had ever seen, he’d never stopped to really think about what being worthy meant.

He learns what worthiness means in the space of a heartbeat.

He learns what it means the instant Loki turns his sight on Jane.

He reaches out, instinct, need, his magic reawakening, he does not know.

Mjolnir answers.

The hammer rips through the domed ceiling above them, and flies straight to his hand. The storm fills him once more and it’s only now that he has it back that he can feel the ache of its absence.

Loki, for the first time since he stepped into the room, looks scared.

Jane just grins.

(Later, when she gets the chance to examine the armor up close, she asks, “Is this how you normally looked?”)

(He answers, “More or less.”)

(She smiles like a woman who is absolutely going to ask him to wear his armor in bed later.)

(“It’s a good look.)