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commentaryvorg · 5 years ago

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Danganronpa V3 Commentary Extra: Rantaro’s Love Hotel Event

At one point I vaguely mentioned that I might make a post covering Rantaro’s Love Hotel event sometime. Unlike most of these events, Rantaro’s one is in fact very good, to the point that it might actually be my favourite piece of Rantaro content. So if I ever wanted to briefly talk about some of the things that are interesting about Rantaro that aren’t relevant in the main storyline, this is honestly the best way for me to do it.

(And maybe there’s also a not-so-Rantaro-specific reason I want to talk about this, too.)

Obligatory warning: this is side-mode bonus content, but I will be mentioning endgame spoilers; don’t read this if you haven’t finished the main story of the game.

First off, understanding this event requires knowledge of what we learn in Rantaro’s FTEs. So, while I don’t quite want to go out of my way to cover those line-by-line, here’s the gist of them for anyone who doesn’t know.

Rantaro’s family is fairly rich and travels around a lot, and one time while in a foreign country, he lost track of his little sister, who was supposed to be following behind him, and she vanished. Ever since then, he’s been doing everything he can to get her back, travelling all over the place and getting himself into all kinds of dangerous scenarios.

Rantaro feels as though his Ultimate should be something like Ultimate Useless Older Brother for letting this happen to his sister in the first place. But Shuichi concludes after hearing the story that maybe Rantaro’s actually the Ultimate Big Brother. It’s not Rantaro’s fault that he lost her, and he’s been trying so hard since then to get her back, essentially devoting his whole life to it, which sounds like the best kind of big brother there is.

After Shuichi agrees to use his detective skills to help Rantaro find his sister, Rantaro then casually adds that, oh by the way, he’s actually got twelve younger sisters who all went missing in similar ways on separate trips.

…And this is the point at which I go “yep, that backstory’s definitely fictional”. Letting it happen once could have been an accidental lapse of attention, sure. But after that, Rantaro would have been extra determined to protect his remaining sisters and not lose them too, so there’s absolutely no way he would have let it happen again eleven more times. That’s just wanton carelessness, as if Rantaro doesn’t actually give a damn about his sisters’ safety at all, which is very clearly the opposite of the truth about him. This only makes sense if it’s fake memories and never actually happened.

(But man, no wonder he hates himself, since he genuinely believes that he really did somehow just carelessly let that happen to every single one of his sisters like the worst big brother in the world.)

Rantaro’s backstory here doesn’t really have much bearing on his role in the canon plot, since his issues there are an entirely separate story fuelled by the whole Survivor Perk thing. Still, this does somewhat help explain why Rantaro is the type of person he is. He probably already had trouble trusting people and feeling like he deserved to be trusted even without the Survivor Perk handicap making it worse – recall fresh-out-of-season-52 Rantaro telling his future self to “trust no-one”. And yet, despite that, he also has a very strong instinct to look out for others and be protective like the big brother he is, hence trying to end the killing game despite his hesitation to trust anyone. His protective instinct might lean towards girls in particular, since they’d be more likely to remind him of his sisters – he did comment at one point that he was worried Kaede’s proactiveness might get her in trouble with Monokuma. (This is why I headcanon that the two survivors from season 52 were both girls; I just think it’d be fun if part of why Rantaro sacrificed himself for them was that they reminded him a little of his sisters and he wanted to protect them at least where he’d failed before.)

So anyway, Rantaro’s Love Hotel event, aka an event where Shuichi has to play the role of the subject’s “ideal fantasy”, which doesn’t have to mean something romantic, shock horror, because this one is entirely platonic. In it, Shuichi finds himself being treated as a student whom Rantaro is something like a private tutor for.

Rantaro: “That’s why you’re my favourite student. Good job! Good work, Shuichi!”

Shuichi: (As he showered me with praise, he lightly tussled my hair with a smile.) […] “R-Rantaro… I’m not a little kid…” (Even if this is his fantasy, it feels weird to be talked to like that.)

Rantaro: “…‘Rantaro,’ huh?”

(His tone had changed. He pulled his hand away, dejected.)

Rantaro: “Not that long ago… you were calling me ‘Big Brother.’”

Except it’s clearly more than that. Rantaro has come to think of this student as like a surrogate younger sibling figure, no doubt to fill the painful gap while his sisters are still missing.

It’s unclear, though, whether he actually has a student like this in real life. This could just be his fantasy of wanting to feel like a big brother again – a fantasy constrained by the unchangeable reality that his sisters are gone and it’s impossible for them to just magically be there, so his subconscious went for the most plausible alternative instead.

Rantaro: “Haha… I guess I made you hate me… didn’t I, Shuichi?”

Apparently Rantaro is all too liable to assume that any “younger sibling” of his would obviously turn to hating him at the slightest provocation. (His sisters must hate him for letting them fall into whatever awful situation they’re in right now, right? They’re definitely blaming it all on him.)

The reason for “Shuichi” supposedly hating Rantaro here is that Rantaro recently announced he’d be leaving on a trip soon – presumably another expedition to try and find his sisters – and can’t even say why.

(Shuichi doesn’t figure out that this is about his sisters, which I guess is because it’s possible to get this event without having done Rantaro’s FTEs in which Shuichi learns about that.)

Rantaro: “I know I’m being selfish, Shuichi. I’m sorry, but I want to shelter you from danger as much as I can…”

Shuichi: “What? Danger…?”

Rantaro: “Haha, whoops, guess I shouldn’t have said that… Forget it.”

Shuichi: “No, Rantaro, I won’t. Not with that look on your face…”

Rantaro: “Some teacher I am, huh? Making you worry about me…”

Obviously it’s terrible of Rantaro as a teacher (as a big brother) to make Shuichi worry about him. That’s not how things are supposed to go in this arrangement at all, so Shuichi should definitely just forget all about it and stop worrying.

(yes hello guess who this is beginning to remind me of, are you maybe starting to see that other reason I wanted to cover this event)

Rantaro: “But you don’t have to worry about a thing. Nothing will ever hurt you. I will protect you. I promise. No one precious to me will ever get hurt again.”

There is absolutely no way someone this fiercely protective would ever have let each of his precious little sisters disappear on him twelve times over. No way. It’s so cruel that Rantaro’s fake memories are making him believe he must secretly be the kind of callously careless person who would let it happen. He’s bound to feel like these assurances otherwise are really just empty words that he’ll always end up betraying when it matters, because he would have promised the same thing to eleven of his sisters, more and more fervently each time, and look what happened anyway.

Shuichi: “W-Wait, Rantaro!” (I don’t really understand, but here goes…) “That… That hurts me, Rantaro. Thinking about you carrying this burden all by yourself hurts me.”

Meanwhile, look at Shuichi hating to see someone he cares about carrying a burden all by themselves, and confronting that person with the fact that they’re hurting him by not letting him help. I wonder who else Shuichi might have said this to, hm? If only he’d known.

Shuichi: “Maybe you see me as just a student, so you don’t think I can protect you… But I don’t *want* to be sheltered and oblivious to everything.”

Rantaro: “Shuichi…”

And look at how Shuichi doesn’t want this person to be hiding their troubles from him in an attempt to protect him, because he can protect them too. This unbalanced arrangement of strictly one-directional help and support while the other person suffers alone was never what Shuichi signed up for.

(If only they’d realise that they need and deserve to be supported, and that needing it doesn’t mean they can’t still support others themselves.)

Shuichi: “Rantaro, you’re going to quit being my tutor, right? So I’m not just your student. I’m your *friend*. You can tell me anything. I know I can help you.”

Shuichi’s approach to this is exactly what he does in Kaito’s Harmonious Heart event and I love it. Rantaro’s trying to insist they have this tutor/student (big brother/little brother) relationship that means Rantaro has to hide all his worries and problems and bear all of that by himself to keep Shuichi safe and oblivious and not worried – but no. Shuichi is having none of that nonsense that puts so much extra undue pressure on Rantaro, because they are friends and he wants to help. Just like with Kaito – he sees this as the best, simplest way to get through to his friend and stop them being so goddamn selfless, and it is.

(Or, well, he and Rantaro might not even technically be friends in this Love Hotel event if Shuichi hasn’t done his FTEs. Still, Shuichi is playing this role of someone who views Rantaro as a tutor/big brother/friend, so he’s acting out what he would do if a person he cared about in that way was behaving like this. Sure, Rantaro never even mentioned that they’re specifically friends, but Shuichi extrapolated from the situation that obviously this person would consider Rantaro a friend as well as those other things. Shuichi is good.)

Rantaro: “Are you sure about this, Shuichi? You’re at the point of no return…

Shuichi: “I would never want you to face it alone, Rantaro…”

Rantaro: “You’ve really come into your own. Haha… Alright, I give up. I’ll tell you everything.”

Looks like it worked! Rantaro now has (in his fantasy) not just a surrogate little brother, but a friend and comrade who’s going to help him and be there for him as he searches for his sisters. Which is probably a lot more beneficial for him in the long run than just yet another younger sibling for him to feel like he’s letting down one way or another.

Rantaro: “Just… until the end of this lesson, can we act like nothing’s changed? The time that I’ve spent as your teacher… has been such a comfort to me.”

I also really like this, because it shows that Shuichi’s response to all this wasn’t Rantaro’s fantasy. Rantaro wanted to just re-experience the feeling of spending time with a younger sibling who’s safe and protected and is never ever going to get hurt or be in danger at all. And Shuichi essentially threw that out and told Rantaro not what he wanted to hear, but what he needed to hear – that he needs to stop being so selfless and let the people who care about him help him for once, because they don’t want him to be suffering alone and he deserves better than that.

This is a really great event because it’s a rare – and really well-done – showcase of Rantaro’s issues from his backstory. They’re some pretty fun issues, so it’s honestly a big shame that they’re basically not relevant at all in the main story and only even come up in bonus bits like this. (Granted, someone had to be the first to die, and the way it was done with Rantaro was probably one of the best ways to make that person still feel fairly narratively relevant and not like a complete throwaway – but it does sadly mean that most of his potential as a character and not as a mysterious plot device had to be squandered.)

But that’s not all; I also really like this event because of Shuichi’s role in it. From what little I gather of how these mostly-stupid Love Hotel scenes go, it probably doesn’t usually even matter that it’s Shuichi in them, because he’s just a placeholder forced to play this role no matter how uncomfortable it makes him and how unlike him it is. But in this one, Shuichi being here does make a difference. Not everyone would have responded to Rantaro’s situation like this, but Shuichi did, because he’s a really good friend who’d never want to let the people he cares about carry their burdens alone.

So not only is this a great event for showcasing Rantaro’s issues, but it’s also great for showing us how good and supportive of a friend Shuichi has the potential to be, even towards people who are stubbornly trying to put themselves in a one-sided protector role that has to carry burdens alone. Shuichi was always exactly the right kind of person to help Kaito with his problems, too – if only he’d known what Kaito was hiding from him in the first place.

(Also, man, if Rantaro had lived longer, he and Kaito could have had some very interesting interactions. I love how many characters in this story it’s possible to draw parallels and contrasts to Kaito with.)

#danganronpa #danganronpa v3 #drv3 #ndrv3 #commentary #salmon team #extra #(don't expect these extras to be regular or numerous; i just happened to want to talk about this)

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winterysomnium · 5 years ago

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Hello! How do you do? All right then! Since it's okay, for the fictional kiss prompt, wangxian (11). I am, as always, weak for Lan Zhan kissing the life out of Wei Ying. It can be modern or canon setting. Teen (what's canon tragedy? Is that burnt food? We don't eat it *cough*) or adult wangxian. Surprise me! (///∇///✿) your replies to the asks has already had my soul ascending, I am so happy beyond words each time, bless you *wipes tears* and Thank you in advance (〃‿〃✿)

Thank you so much for the prompt!! I had so much fun writing it!! ♥ Also I love the asks I love talking about WangXian they are so so good

hope you’ll enjoy the fic!

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Wangxian, modern AU, 11. when one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you-” and they answer by kissing them more

Here’sthe thing: Wei Ying knows something is about to give between them.

Something’s about to snap, something that’ll eitherpull them in or apart and the way Lan Zhan doesn’t avoid him but doesn’t letWei Ying approach him either – which he’s not really trying to do that desperately, if he’s being fair –solidifies Wei Ying’s insides into a block of bitter, wet concrete, dragginghis feet even heavier.

Wei WuXian so so sojust wanted to find a way to get out of the banquet the Lan family is throwingthis year, willing to miss the fun and the amazing wine and the way Lan Zhan wouldget adorably sleepy after nine but would still let Wei Ying drag him around theestate gardens nonetheless all the years before; willing to pretend he was sickor just forgot about the business party completely, you know how bad his memory is, Jiang Cheng, haha – but JiangCheng was having none of it, practically dragging him into their car andsitting him down in their assigned seats, his grip as firm as his glare and thelecture he’s been giving Wei Ying since morning.

As the head designer of the Yunmeng company attendingwas the polite, proper thing for Wei WuXian to do. But as someone who has sleptwith the CEO’s younger brother just two days prior, it was incredibly difficultto just not hide underneath the table or drink himself under it, the firstglass of Emperor’s Smile already a stain on his lips.

It would’ve been fine, had it been anyone but LanZhan.

It would’ve been fine, if Lan Zhan hadn’t been tipsyand pliant, if he hadn’t met Wei Ying with a look so heartbroken afterwards, with something sad and small firmlyclutched inside the confines of his silence, his stare.

It would’ve been fine if Lan Zhan’s mouth wasn’t adisappointed curve and Wei Ying’s world hadn’t spun upside down, his lungsfilling up with regret for oxygen, spilling all over his teeth, sinking intohis blood, saturated, corroding its core.

“Are you still drunk, Lan Zhan?” he’d asked and LanWangJi shook his head breathlessly, tensing when Wei Ying moved and quicklyturning away when Wei WuXian tried to hurriedly put his clothes back on, pickingup all the pieces they’ve scattered around the floor, all the borders they’vecrossed laid out and crumpled and it felt like rewinding time, like they’d beenwoven back into yesterday but still had changed, still had touched, still –

a mess.

Wei WuXian had paused, fingers on the clasp of hisbelt; somehow they’re miles apart, him and Lan Zhan.

They’re – this is – messy. Messed up, Wei WuXian’s heart hitched in his chest.

This was never going to be anything but a mess between them, he’d realized.

(It wasn’t ever meant to be.)

“We shouldn’t let this happen again, Lan Zhan,” he’dsaid.

He shouldn’t let it happen again, motwhen Lan Zhan’s too good for someone like Wei Ying, Lan Zhan who never wouldhave touched him were he not drunk, Lan Zhan whose shoulders had never lookedso defeated –

so Wei Ying ran, and kept running, hasn’t answered anyof Lan Zhan’s messages, hasn’t sent him any back and now he’s left breathlessand tired and if he thinks too much, thinks too long, his eyes sting, the worldblurs and blurs and blurs and now here he is, longingly watching the distantspace of Lan Zhan’s back and afraid to say more than hello, too ashamed to meethis eyes.

Surprisingly, it’s Jin Guang Yao of all people whopulls him aside two hours into the awkward dinner and the stilted, too politeconversations, Lan XiChen in tow – ohGod, does he know? he definitely knows, Wei Ying’s so dead – and the bad, bad feeling in hischest burns deeper, scorches his mouth.

“You truly don’t remember, do you?” Lan Xichen askshim, quietly.

“What do you mean?” Wei Ying asks in return and he’stold about the party three years ago he can’t recall too well – read: at all– because he’d been – well. He’d been fighting to save Wen Ning’s company, simultaneouslyworking on a huge project for the four partnered companies and at the end of itall, he’d been accused of leaking legal documents and campaign ideas to the ‘rivaling’Wen company, drinking down all the bitter words with wine and a cocktail toomany, forgetting about the headache pills he’d taken a few hours back.

He’d been so worn out at the point, so angry, he justwanted to quit, just wanted to stop, to stop being blamed for every employeethat had to have been let go because the campaign hadn’t worked out as hoped,accused of not giving enough, not caringenough – he can’t remember anything from that night after, besides waking upat home the next day.

But apparently, apparently–

he bursts into the dinner hall, the crowded roomsuddenly so much to bear, too much space to search, too many seconds lostbecause he can’t see Lan Zhan anywhere, can’t find him, needs to find him, right this moment, right now.

Because – because:Lan Zhan had confessed to him, that night.

Lan Zhan had confessed to him and Wei Ying doesn’tremember a single word.

He frantically scans through the scenery of shouldersand jewelry and chattering mouths and there’s a hint of him on the balcony:just the briefest of moments where Wei Ying catches a mirage of Lan WangJi’ssuit’s sleeve, his heartbeat too loud in his ears, louder than his thoughts,the words they try to form.

He runs across the room, rushes through thehalfhearted ‘sorry’s and ‘excuse me’s and then the night sky opensabove the crown of his head and Lan Zhan’s there, looking into the depths ofthe garden, not paying attention to any of the guests sharing the stars and thechampagne with him and Wei Ying’s heart burns in his throat, presses againsthis voice until he has to form syllables or he’s going to explode, the beatfast fast fast; he doesn’t pay attention to anyone else, either, anymore.

“Lan Zhan! Lan Zhan, I didn’t mean to ignore you afterwe’ve slept together!” he shouts, so focused on Lan Zhan he doesn’t care whohears, who sees, who watches – whatmatters is Lan Zhan’s bewildered attention on him, finally, finally: they’re looking at each otherat the same time.

There’s so much Wei Ying needs to say but it allscatters when Lan WangJi turns around and Wei Ying’s drawn into him like he’sbeing lead on strings, like someone’s pushing his back.

“I didn’t want it to be just once either! I wanted totalk to you! I wanted to stay! I wanted – I wanted you!” he continues desperately, a step away, hesitant to touch: ifhe touches Lan Zhan’s hand, he’s going to want more, he’s going to want all ofhim, he’s going to –

he’s going to fall in love, all over again.

“Lan Zhan, I – I didn’t know – Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan,I’ve never regretted that it was you! I wantedit to be you. I want it to be you. Noone else but you. Who else but you?” He looks up and smiles, smiles up up up athim and then Lan Zhan exhales, softly, a trembling not concealed within thesound; he reaches over to caress Wei WuXian’s cheek.

(It snaps.)

The something shudders, bursts and it’s Wei Ying’s apprehension and caution and he laughs, laughsas he crashes into Lan Zhan, into his arms and laughs, laughs when Lan Zhanholds him closer, tighter, his whole being still unsure, shaky, in disbelief.

“… Wanted you. Want you. Who else but you,” Lan WangJirepeats, slowly, like he’s relearning the language and Wei Ying reaches up tocup his cheeks, cradle his face between his palms.

(Lan Zhan is crying and Wei WuXian can taste it on hisfingertips first.)

He kisses him, not knowing what else to do, how elseto cope, how else to comfort him and Lan Zhan makes a sound, a cut off hitch,something stolen by Wei Ying’s lips and Wei Ying pulls back, wonders if he’smessed up again, if maybe it wasn’t –

“Lan Zhan – Lan Zhan I’m sorry, was I not supposed to–” he starts then startles when Lan Zhan kisses him, holding Wei Ying so securely, so tenderly, so tightly it engulfs his whole being, thewhole of Wei Ying’s core.

He’s being kissed and kissed and kissed and he kisseshim, too, kisses until the heat of their lips transfers to his insides, untilhe’s a second away from moaning out Lan Zhan’s name, until –

until there’s loud footsteps and a yelp, an abruptstandstill at the entrance of the balcony.

“Wei WuXian! Where did you – oh my god!” Jiang Chengnearly crashes into the half closed glass door, stunned, voice strangled andface red; he pivots on his feet and turns away, just as quick, rushing backinto the thick of the crowd.

Lan Zhan has the dignity to look a little embarrassed,then a little annoyed at being interrupted, as if kissing Wei WuXianunapologetically and publicly is his right rather than an offense and he lickshis lips impatiently, his eyes on Wei Ying’s own mouth again, his lip grazingWei Ying’s and Wei Ying –

Wei Ying just starts laughing, again.

Starts laughing into the press of a kiss and laughsuntil Lan Zhan lifts him onto the railing and settles himself between histhighs, pressing himself against Wei Ying, presses a kiss after a kiss afterkiss, Wei Ying laughs until there’s no air left to spare.

He was wrong.

He was so so wrong about this.

(They weren’t meant to fall apart, at all.)

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(feel free to leave me prompts here )

#wangxian #wei-yue22 #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #the untamed #my writing #anything else to tag?#thank you so much for the prompt!

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biandnotreadytotry · 6 years ago

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Chapters 4/5 of my Mostly-Canon Andi Mack from TJ’s POV Fic are now out(up to the cheese puff scence haha). I say mostly canon, bc we actually meet TJ’s family lol. And honestly, I think I need it more than anyone bc I need some post-finale Tyrus BF moments. Also, can’t believe it took me this entire show to finally write a fic. Enjoy!

“Hey,” I hated that I sounded so insecure, but the truth was, math wasn’t getting any easier and with Buffy being the only person that had a general idea of what was going on, I was starting to get desperate, “I need to talk to you about my…math thing.”

“I’m happy you want to deal with this.” She forced a smile, “But the real person you should be talking to is Mr. Coleman.”

“Absolutely, I’m gonna’ do that.” I didn’t know when, but I probably would, “But in the mean time,” I swung my backpack, to grab my homework, which I’d ‘conveniently’ left at the top of my bag in the off chance I saw her, “I need someone to do my math homework.”

She looked around, confused, “Me?”

“You are my tutor.”

She looked offended at that, “That doesn’t mean I’m going to cheat for you.”

“It’s not cheating it’s,” he paused, trying somehow to turn this into something that wasn’t questionable, “Helping a teammate stay on the team.”

“I have a moral code.”

Of course she did, people high and mighty like her always did.

I scoffed at her, “People cheat all the time.”

“People without codes.” She returned, already beginning to stomp off, “Codeless people.”

Well that was unsuccessful. Though, I didn’t really have a chance to consider it much as a classmate, Riley from my English class, approached me.

We were always cordial during class, but I don’t know if I’d call him my friend.

“Hey TJ,” Riley offered.

“Hey Riley,” I smiled.

“So…I have a favor to ask…” he hesitated.

Oh gosh, I guess the day was a favor asking type of day. I figured I might as well hear him out, “What’s up?”

“So, you know how you sit next to Ella?”

“Yeah…?”

“I uh…”

He liked Bella. I didn’t really blame him. She was pretty and really nice.

“What do you want, Riley?”

He sounded nervous, probably afraid I wouldn't agree with whatever his plan was. I mean, I probably wouldn't, I didn't much care for helping people out when it came to stuff like that, but I still listened to him anyways, “I was wondering the next time…there’s uh...there's a group project you ask me to join your group.”

That was all under the assumption that Bella even wanted to be in a group project with me.

I guess it didn’t really do me much harm to agree to involve him, it wouldn’t be my fault if she left to go join another group.

“Uh…sure? I guess.”

“Awesome, thanks dude!”

“Hey! Not so scary basketball guy!” A voice called out to me. I’m not really sure why, but I knew it was aimed towards me. Plus, I was sort of done with Riley trying to use me.

Did that make me a hypocrite?

I mean I actually needed help. He just liked a girl.

I forced a smile at Riley as I turned towards the voice. I don’t even think I said goodbye to Riley, I just sort of walked away as I turned towards Cyrus.

I mean, who else would call me ‘Not So Scary Basketball Guy’?

I hadn’t really seen him or talked to him since I saw him at the Swingset's last week. But it was nice to see him again.

“Heeyy,” I smiled as I started to walk towards him, returning his nickname with one of my own, kind of proud of myself that I came up with something so quickly, “Underdog. What’s up?”

“Well, I know it’s kind of last minute.” Cyrus immediately replied, obviously eager over something, “But if I can get an R-S-V-P A-S-A-P, I think I can get you into my Bar-Mitzvah Par-ty.”

Link to AO3 to keep reading, here!

#If it's not obvious I'm a TJ stan #This fic is more for me than anyone else #but i hope ya'll enjoy it too #Andi Mack #Tyrus #TJ Kippen #Cyrus Goodman

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scarlettlawyer · 6 years ago

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Part 4 of my commentary of @renegadewangs‘ fanfic series Phantoms and Mirages.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Now, onto Haunted Specters! God, I love Haunted Specters.

It’s such a pivotal and crucial stepping stone. Just about all the major actors on the playing board, and in fact, the playing board itself all get rearranged in a careful balancing act that sets the scene anew.

It is, or at least it was, SUCH an incredible struggle for me to reconcile the phantom from the previous fic with the phantom we see in this one (and subsequent instalments, even) upon taking a step back, and with good reason, although for me the divide ran a little deeper, as it completely boggled my mind how this was somehow the same character being written by the same author, let alone belonging to the same fic series that somehow had a line of continuity where it made sense for these characters to end up in these situations – this situation.

I don’t merely refer to the phantom’s characterisation – what’s so great is that you can totally get away with writing him in this manner and have the audience accept it, seeing as he’s suffered a traumatic brain injury from the fall. It allows for a great amount of freedom for what direction to take the character in that would have been absent before.

No, I also refer here to (of course) the dynamic he shares with the other characters, the way he is portrayed and positioned by the narrative, and lastly, my own personal approach to reading and my feelings towards – level of investment in the character as he is in this series. As I’ve rehashed many times, I wasn’t very absorbed in or on board with this series’ version of the phantom for a lot of the previous fic when I first read it, at least until the end. But now, going into this fic, I was fully invested in especially seeing and learning what changes and impact the fall had made on him, and there was a new, thrilling level of unpredictability attached not only to the character, but to the plot itself.

By all accounts, the series so far had set me up to want to see how Blackquill and Bobby were finally going to take down the Big, Bad, Evil Phantom once and for all. How they would, against the odds, track him down and apprehend him against his will in what was bound to be an epic showdown. I was ready for that. It’s what I wanted to see. When I previously mentioned wanting – yearning for a “slightly lighter take” in my first post? That was gone now. I was ready for some pizza, at last. It’s what I had been conditioned to expect so far, so I was like, why not? I was like, heck yeah, let’s do this.

And yet, the narrative didn’t hesitate to seem to want to throw all of this out the window altogether. My expectations completely and utterly thwarted, I found myself realising I really had no idea what direction this could possibly be going in (or why my expectations had been thwarted so thoroughly like this). I well and truly had no idea what would happen next most of the time, because I couldn’t fathom where things could possibly go, and that had me hooked to reading, so eager to know what would happen next since it was such a mystery.

Rereading Chasing Phantoms as I have done for these commentary posts was helpful in truly establishing in my mind that yes, that was the same phantom, the same phantom, the same man that is present continuously within this series. That needed to be reconciled not just with regards to portrayal, but also my own misconceptions outside of that about how the story and character were constructed back then.

But I’m getting a little ahead of myself here, so let’s start off with looking at the first few chapters.

Haunted Specters, Chapter 1

…You know, right off the bat, I know/figure this series was mostly (if not wholly) written prior to the release of SOJ, and yet. I could be wrong but it looks like all of the provided dates still seem to match up in order to make it remain fully compliant to ace attorney canon. As in, there’s nothing directly contradicting it. And if that really is the case, well that’s just pretty damn awesome all around. AA7 will surely come along in future and ruin the fun of that I’m guessing, but for the time being, you can’t tell me all of this stuff wasn’t happening in the background even as AA6 was going on. AA6 all seems to take place prior to chapter 1, anyway. God bless timeskips!

...Wait, wait, coming back to edit this much later: scrap that. Apollo’s presence throws a spanner in the works. Ah, well. We can work around that, I’m sure. I’m gonna play around with it in my mind until it fits, somehow. :P Even later edit: Oh also Gaspen.

When Simon left the office, he couldn’t quite keep the broad grin from his face, nor the light skip from his stride.

This is so cute oh gosh happy Simon!

Save it for a more appropriate time- that was what his therapist had taught him.

Oh? Oh really? Is that so? Who might that be? No one important? Oh you mean? You mean the courtroom sniper? Is that right? You mean the phantom’s future

Boyfriend?

Nah, that can’t be right. Carry on then.

Hah, don’t worry, I’m not complaining. Lang Zi says: A man who cannot keep his own affairs in order lacks the competence to be having affairs.” “… No offense, Lang-dono, but at times the suspicion dawns on me that perhaps you’re making some of these sayings up as you go.” “This coming from the man who has a thousand and one prison anecdotes to share?” Lang paused for a moment, then his voice took on a much more serious note. “Anyway, I’m not calling for idle banter.”

“Haha, yeah, good one, so anyway, there’s a good chance your boyfriend might be dead.”

Haunted Specters, Chapter 2

“No! Hold it! Mr. Butz had no reason to kill anyone!”

I WAS WONDERING IF THE DEFENDANT WAS SOMEONE WE KNEW SKNJSDNKJ

“So tell him to hold off on ordering another useless gravestone with my name on it. In fact, tell him to stop looking for me while you’re at it.”

ANOTHER- god I love how completely wack some of these characters’ lives are/have been.

“… I gave him your regards. I gave him your regards, and then some.”

Me, known phantom fangirl trash: OH GOSH IS HE OKAY???

Me, knowing full-well that Bobby would be 100% justified acting in self-defense against a known emotionless killer, therefore also with somewhat mock concern: OH BOBBY PLEASE TELL ME YOU DIDN’T HURT HIM

(Oh, but he didn’t. I needn’t have worried.)

Ah, I’ve been sitting here, wondering what I can say to this. How his assessment is completely aligned with reader expectations and further sets them up only to be subverted, how far off his guesses are… I just… “even the tiniest glimpse of him” they’re… they’re sharing an apartment… Yeah. We’ll get there. I couldn’t find an appropriate reaction image to the above block of text, really.

Haunted Specters, Chapter 3

Okay this is extremely pernickety, and I apologise, but…

And, mind you, I usually pay no attention whatsoever to these things, and it honest to goodness makes no difference at all in the end – if the narrative says it’s Tuesday, then it’s Tuesday. Simple as that. I merely looked it up out of curiosity and because I’ve annoyingly taken it upon myself to micro-analyse everything in this fanfiction series like a little pest. I also kinda figured because you are picking out the dates and actively calling attention to the day of the week, that you would have some kind of system that you are sticking to for it (and the vast majority of details added into your fic was done so meticulously). And maybe Google is off on the calculation and you got it right, heh. But yeah, I definitely paid no real mind to this at all when reading it the first time around.

But then… Even if Fulbright was now avoiding help from the people close to him, that didn’t mean there weren’t any people close to him. Similarly, the Phantom could never quite work alone.

Okay, okay. I know this is a direct lead-in to re-introducing Domestique into the mix, but… oh my gosh. You really just went right ahead and… Hm! The phantom can never quite work alone. He is working with Bobby right now, as a matter of speaking.

Also. I really like Domestique’s dialogue when he’s forced to face Simon, gosh. Just so unabashedly in-your-face, so dotted with swears, it’s kinda great, really.

I ESPECIALLY LOVE THIS LINE FROM HIM:

Because honest-to-goodness, it’s kinda funny how direct it is (and the ��THAT’S TWO DIFFERENT COUNTRIES” asdgd), but also rings really true in a “this is exactly what someone like this would say in this situation” way – exactly how they’d phrase it.

…

Oh, I love. This meeting between Bobby and the phantom at the end of the chapter. It’s – aaah. Very good. With the way it’s set out, you’re somewhat kinda like, oh, huh, is it really him though? Could it really be him? But the narrative goes right ahead and keeps dropping explicit hints. It still doesn’t outright confirm it, leaving the slightest hint of plausible deniability that perhaps this is a New Character we’re being introduced to, but… :D

Haunted Specters, Chapter 4

Even the revelation that the Chief Prosecutor had helped uncover a mole who’d been hiding right by Lang’s side was a story that’d spread through hearsay only.

Second reference to the Her 👀 (yes, I’ve been paying attention to that on this readthrough).

“Coupons. Ambassador Palaeno sends me a considerable package of these things every year, yet I find no use for them. They’re redeemable only in Cohdopia itself, so I’m sure you see my problem.”

Bro. Bro you keep making vague references to characters only for them to actually become super important and plot-relevant later on. I’m blindsided every time.

Me, reading this for the first time: Haha nice reference to a minor ace attorney character, yes, Edgey would totally still receive coupons from him. I can see that. He’s totally unrelated to this story though.

Me later: THIS SUCKER WAS ALREADY BEING REFERENCED AT THE BEGINNING OF FIC 2.

The Chief Prosecutor received gifts from the Cohdopian ambassador? Honestly, everyone was intertwined in one way or the other, weren’t they?

Good work. This is very true of the ace attorney universe and it’s cool that Simon takes note of it here like this. But it’s also very true of this fic series as well, helping reiterate that fact. Oh, Simon, you don’t even know yet how intertwined everyone even is…

You set the scene so well upon Simon arriving in Cohdopia. Really depict the atmosphere and everything super well!

So then, Simon arrives at the address, and he finds… Bobby? And it’s like, wait, wasn’t that supposed to be the phantom’s address? Why’s Bobby here? Aint that hugely coincidental…? How did Bobby find… Well, he did cross paths with the phantom, so I guess he also managed to track him down to this place somehow and he just so happens to be arriving at the same time as Simon (?!) and then some other stranger that Bobby seems to know arrives and…

…

…What?!

I love how there was still plausible deniability up until the very moment Bobby says it outright. Like, the phantom’s apartment might have been abandoned years ago, and this “stranger” is completely unrelated, and took up residence there some time after it was abandoned. Yeah – a stranger that will be an important ally and help them on their quest to bring the phantom down! Right? But Bobby’s behaviour, and then he… that’s… that stranger is no stranger at all…

Simon waited, all sorts of hypotheses dawning on him, each more ludicrous than the next. As it turned out, one of the theories he’d dismissed almost immediately on grounds of being too farfetched turned out to be truth.

LITERALLY ME

Haunted Specters, Chapter 5

“I warned you, Simon. Now back away,” Bobby hissed, grabbing him by the arm to pull him away from the faux Cohdopian.

“Faux Cohdopian”… Well,

Anyway. Well. Wow. What can I even say about this chapter? Most of it’s all contained in Simon’s POV narrative itself.

First off, you have the obvious, “whoa, this is how the phantom is being formally re-introduced to the narrative? I really don’t know what I expected but it sure as hell wasn’t this.”

This chapter, this situation, the characters, are all so incredibly volatile and it plays out, it really plays out with that constant volatility.

I, kinda immediately suspected that something was off in that the fall had done some damage to the phantom’s mind in an important, meaningful way.

Bobby’s behaviour is so surreal. Just like it is to Simon. There’s so much going on, so much to process all at once.

“I think that even you, Phantom, would agree this is nothing short of folly.” A moment of silence followed. Sam didn’t so much as blink at the question. He merely downed the pill he’d been given by draining the water in one go. “… Sam doesn’t speak English,” was all Bobby said.

Now THINGS LIKE THIS, are what made me think, well, the narrative seemed to be encouraging this viewpoint that maybe, at this point the phantom doesn’t actually remember being the phantom. Maybe he lost all his memories, and he’s just wandering around as some poor confused amnesiac who genuinely thinks he’s Sam Specter. (That doesn’t explain a couple of things, but it was only a temporary thought of mine as I read through). But this viewpoint allowed Bobby’s behaviour to make sense in my eyes. It raises a very interesting dilemma. That the phantom is still despicable and needs to be brought to justice and what have you, but how? The phantom is completely absent now, if this man has no memories of any of that. If he genuinely thinks he’s Sam Specter, an innocent civilian who has done no wrong, and for all intents and purposes is trying to live his life as such, reacts as such? Then Bobby would probably bear no ill will against “Sam Specter”. That perhaps, well and truly up until a certain point, “Sam’s” act was not an act. Or it, at the very least, was much less of an act than it would usually be. It’s… quite convincing. In which case, Bobby wouldn’t want harm to come to innocent civilian “Sam Specter”, even if he used to be the phantom. But now? Now he’s just some weak, frail man with a serious mental condition.

The attempts to affirm the personhood, to what extent there is one, of “Sam Specter” is a very interesting point of contention.

With this in mind, as Simon went after the phantom trying to get him to come out, I kind of expected it to consistently not work. That Simon would just keep pushing and pushing to be faced with that murderer once more, only for “Sam Specter” to never break character, perhaps because there is no real character to break from at that point, so caught in a delusion. For Bobby to want him to stop because at that point he’d just be needlessly harassing “Sam Specter”.

But then he does break character, so that theory kind of goes out the window.

He’d been cornered, faced with the truth and forced to drop the charade.

But. It’s still not revealed to what extent the phantom was impacted by the fall. And I kind of got the impression that the phantom was “holding onto” the act… more than usual. More than he usually would. He only broke character under duress, so there are still a whole bunch of questions raised here about just how much he was immersed and caught up in the role of Sam, exactly. Also. Yes. On a second readthrough he reacts fiercely and breaks character specifically after the asylum comment and I just – oh my GOSH.

Also: Peacekeeper Bobby…

Bobby’s gaze moved from the broken glass to Sam Specter, who was once again cradling his head with both hands. Who was rocking back and forth on the couch, muttering to himself. Obviously not listening to a word they were saying.

Oh gosh, he really… Yeah. A fall from an apartment building can certainly do that to you.

Haunted Specters, Chapter 6

What if… What if this was a mistake? What if he’d just freed a common criminal?

Well, UM.

“Oh. Oh, right. That makes sense.” A moment’s pause. “…Wait, wouldn’t I be walking backwards then, making your six my twelve?” “…” “Or uh… I’ll just turn the clock around and make my twelve six so it’ll still be right side up for you.” “… I doubt this conversation would be any different if I were having it with a young child.”

Oh my gooosh. He’s really like this huh. He’s really just Like This.

“Oh. … Well, that’s good! That nobody else is stuck here, I mean, not the… the selling.” “Stop wasting time on such trivial sentiments and prepare yourself.”

“Trivial sentiments”… I just… He’s really always Like This. Your version of the phantom is so talkative, something I noticed pretty early on, but I love it, honestly. He could have easily just ignored the statement and continued to tend to the task at hand here, not saying anything, and Bobby would have easily taken that cue and also started to focus more and not really said anything further, but oh, no, the phantom just had to throw in some kind of remark. Not replying would have conveyed the same meaning, but this guy? He’s absolutely gonna say something. He didn’t have to equate Bobby to a child either, easily could have chosen to say nothing. BUT HERE WE ARE. I love it.

Two strangers, guarding each other with their lives on the gamble they’d both make it out in one piece.

Incredible. Incredible!

“What…? Friendship?” For the first time since they’d met, the man’s voice showed more than a stoic nature. Some sort of subdued confusion. “… Wasn’t it… justice?”

THIS MOMENT IS GOLDEN. Yes, YES.

And, you know, his brain’s all muddled, he’s missing huge chunks of his memory… And he really is kind of blurting this out at this point? Like a knee-jerk reaction. He’s reaching for a – for a memory that just comes to him even if he can’t quite put it in full context, or even if he CAN, he really says this without thinking. Because even if he was suffering from this confusion, I am very certain that he would not just blurt it out like that under normal circumstances. No. This man is half out of his mind! He must know that Bobby doesn’t recognise him and he has no real reason to tip him off otherwise right now (because it could backfire very easily if Bobby freezes up or freaks out as a result!), to ask him like that... Haaah. I’m so here for really-not-all-there phantom.

Still, even through their little exchange, Sam looked blissfully lost. As if he truly didn’t understand what they were discussing about the Phantom. About him. What a pathetic little farce.

This really did have me genuinely uncertain what to think. Like, how much of “Sam Specter” is a farce? How invested was the phantom into that role? The phantom understands English perfectly, but because Sam supposedly doesn’t… Was it possible at all that selective hearing was truly at play? That the phantom gets so deep into the role that he tricks himself, his brain, into not really understanding English properly – refusing to process it? At least, that’s what I thought at the time. Bobby makes the requests for the phantom in Cohdopian, after all. He doesn’t just casually sit there and say “hey phantom, come out” in English. Switching between “Sam” and “the phantom” evidently takes… some effort for him. And mind you, I was putting all of this (selective hearing etc.) down to the results of the fall as well. I mean, if the phantom was “Sam” under normal circumstances before the fall he’d be able to understand English perfectly well, he’d just pretend he couldn’t, and also that he’d be able to switch in and out and between personas quite easily. But that the fall did things to his mind to make it all more difficult, for him to now be able to engage in this selective understanding, is what I figured.

But… maybe Simon’s right. Maybe he still really does understand everything they say, and is just faking it. He’s such a good actor that it really is hard to tell.

And maybe the simple fact is that it’s still easy for the phantom to switch between personas, it’s just difficult to switch out of them since he has so little sense of self. And maybe that’s just the way it always has been and the fall didn’t actually change that.

Sam’s personhood hinges on how “conscious” the phantom is while Sam is in place. The less the phantom is actually present (selective hearing etc), the more “Sam” is just Sam. But it’s later implied (more than once I think) that the phantom really is just, conscious while he is Sam, and that being “brought out” is not such an immense struggle as it otherwise could be. And yet, at the same time, the narrative seems to want to tilt us in favour of acknowledging Sam as a… a person, his own person. Of sorts. And… I guess it makes sense(?). During the whole of Dual Destinies, even if every action taken by “Bobby” was consciously chosen by the phantom… Those actions were all taken for a reason, all matching up to the consistent persona “Bobby Fulbright”. Both “Bobby” and the phantom would make a choice or engage in a behaviour for the most part, even if the reasoning was different at times they were united on the action itself. Sam is… kind of the same? He is the spitting image of what used to be a real human being, all of his outward actions and behaviours (are intended to) replicate that human being. By cobbling together some approximation of a real person like this, it is perhaps easier to treat them like a real person if they behave in all intents and purposes as such. Especially considering the circumstances. There’s a constant duality going on which I guess is what we’re supposed to settle on? The phantom never really goes away, he’s always there behind the scenes. But Sam’s there too, and we gotta treat him as real or things kinda just fall apart, really. There’s also much to be said for how Sam’s personhood is as much constituted to the extent that it’s acknowledged by those around him, too. We can’t just look at it on its own. It’s also something that’s made more “real” by others treating it and to an extent acknowledging it as real. Even if, in the very end, there might be nothing truly behind it.

THERE IT IS. Right off the bat, I just gotta say: the phantom is really channelling his inner Franziska. XD. Addressing characters by their FULL NAMES. I noticed it quite a bit in the sense that it is, very consistent within his speech pattern, almost making it a kind of “character trait” of a man who himself claims to have no real character. But of course – it makes it stand out all the more when switching to “Prosecutor Blackquill” instead.

”If you attempt to lay a hand on Sam Specter a second time, I will not hesitate to interfere and protect him.”

Here it is, the phantom himself almost treating Sam like a completely separate person… I… don’t think he would have taken this approach before the fall. Hmm. BUT ALSO. Here he’s also implying that he is conscious enough while behaving as Sam to be able to “not hesitate to interfere and protect him”. Hmm!

“Watch your tongue before I cut it off,” he hissed. “I would never lay a hand on Fulbright.” “… See that you don’t.”

Me: I WELL AND TRULY DO NOT UNDERSTAND AT ALL, WHAT IS GOING ON, the phantom is protective of Bobby, well and truly his brain was influenced by that fall.

Simon really is/was in the exact same boat, honestly.

Now we have the smuggling ring brought up, the March 2019 exposure referenced, another reference to how there was a mole in interpol before… And I was kind of like, “hm! You know! There’s a certain character this brings to mind, yet unfortunately they’re nowhere in sight. Kinda really sucks they’re not a character in this fic series, honestly!” Yes, such a shame, really.

”[…] That’s why we need to expose the involvement of Lex Luster […]”

Me, reading this for the first time: Wait. Lex… Le…x. Huh. That’s… for some reason, that name rings a bell. Ah – that’s right. This “Lex”, he’s quite an important character, isn’t he? From what tiny random scraps of information I’ve seen about this fic series (from years ago!)… Yes. I’m pretty sure that this “Lex” character will be showing up quite a lot going forward.

...Well, I wasn’t wrong.

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greathammerhead · 7 years ago

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Chapter 4

summary: She ended every letter with a heart; she was still debating if distance really made the heart grow fonder. pairings: Harry Hook x Evie, Ben x Mal; slight Carlos x Jane, Carlos x Jay, Carlos x Chad style: Multi-chapter — somewhat sequel to this; canon divergence notes: I just can’t win guys haha. While I finally have Wifi, my laptop decided to die and I absolutely hate the new laptop I bought, so I ordered a better one which won’t arrive until late November. So please bear with me! Hopefully this fluffy chapter makes up for the wait! rated: T; will feature strong language, minor violence, and sexual themes other locations: ao3 | ffnet

Harry swore, eyes narrowed in frustration.

“This is impossible.”

He shifted his position, lifting his hands closer to the dim light to try and get a better view. He continued to squint, and it took only a few minutes for him to get fully frustrated and throw the item in his hands to the floor.

“Ugh, Harry !” A voice from around the corner groaned.

Harry just huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and pointedly looking away from the mess he’d made.

The second occupant of the room stomped over to him, but really, the small girl barely made any noise and she was far from intimidating anyway.

“I went away for, like, five minutes. Try again!”

“Ye don’t tell me what tah do, Dizzy.”

Dizzy took a deep, calming breath. There weren’t many times she actually wanted to inflict harm upon anyone, but it usually came out with either her family or Harry.

“ This ,” She bent down to pick up the delicate pieces he’d thrown on the floor — seashells, pretty-colored rocks, beads — and cradled them in her hands as if she held a newborn, “is for the most wonderful, beautiful girl in the world, Harry. You need to treat this like you care.”

Harry glared. If it was anyone but Dizzy, he wouldn’t hesitate to hook them. But she was right.

“Ah do care! It’s just not in mah skill set.”

Dizzy tsked, bringing the pieces back over to him. “Anyone can make a bracelet. Here.” She picked up another piece of string, dipping the frayed ends in questionable-looking water before pinching it. “Try this piece.”

Carefully, Harry began the task again. He began with a few beads — which was the easy part — before moving on to the more brittle pieces that required more patience. This time, however, Dizzy was at his side, helping to steady one of his hands and knowing when to re-dip the thread to make it easier for him.

He was in disbelief when, nearly an hour later, he had a decent-looking bracelet in his hands.

Dizzy patted him on the shoulder, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “Phew!” She readjusted her glasses, smiling at their creation. “She’s gonna love it.”

One of his thumbs ran across the surface of a shell. Their worlds colliding — fashion and the sea, and it looked so good.

“Yeah,” He whispered, “ah hope so.”

Evie placed her backpack on a picnic table for the second time that week with a sigh. While it had been entirely refreshing to have more people in their room, Jane and Lonnie were becoming regulars, and it had been too hard to concentrate with them.

If she had been doing homework it would’ve been fine. Homework didn’t require as much soul as this damn letter, which was taking a lot more time than she’d initially thought.

She was nearing the end, she just didn’t know how best to end it. She needed to have it be perfect , and she couldn’t imagine sending it while it was anything less.

She stopped herself before she began chewing on her pen cap in frustration.

“Evie!” She rolled her eyes at the intrusion, but pursed her lips when she saw who it was.

“Ben,” She greeted, “what a surprise.”

He stood beside the table, hands clasped together with the brightest of smiles on his face.

“I, ah, I haven’t seen any of you guys today, and didn’t know if you needed help with anything,” he motioned to her paper, “or any schoolwork.”

It almost hurt to see how genuine he was. Evie had seen far more fake smiles than genuine ones, and she’d always been a quick study in telling them apart. Ben was a rare breed, even in Auradon, and Evie didn’t feel so bad when she returned the smile.

Ben seemed to be the only one who truly wanted them in the first place, anyway.

She gestured for him to sit and he did so eagerly, his smile never wavering.

“I do have an...odd question for you, Ben.”

His expression remained; he only nodded, encouraging her to continue.

“How did you get Carlos to like a dog?”

It took him a second, but Ben laughed. “I just showed him how loving they can be. That once you get to know them, or even just spending a few minutes with one, they’re not as bad as he thought. And that there was never a reason to be scared in the first place.”

Evie tapped her nails on the table, suddenly feeling very small. She was a quick study in many things. “Well, it’s easy to do that when you’ve already had practice introducing people to the things they’re afraid of.”

Ben placed a hand on her shoulder in a gentle but firm grip. “They’ll all see what I see in you guys.”

“What do you see, exactly?”

Ben smiled. “People. Good people who come from bad situations, and new voices to listen to.”

Evie bit down on the inside of her cheek, feeling tears begin to bud in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but she couldn’t form the words that could express how she felt.

There were very few people who saw her as more than her mother’s daughter, and for those few she was incredibly grateful. She never imagined Ben to make the list.

“Is there anything else I can do?” His voice was soft, comforting.

In that moment, she didn’t care if she was too trusting. Chad knew, Doug knew, Jane and Lonnie knew, and she’d be surprised if it wasn’t already circling around campus.

Ben truly seemed to want to help. He was taking a chance on them, giving them a part of himself, and letting him in didn’t seem so scary anymore.

“There is.” She quickly wiped the tears from her eyes, directing her attention back to her letter. “I have a boyfriend back on the Isle. Captain Hook’s son, Harry. I...Is there any way I can send letters to him? There’s no other way to talk, and I-”

Ben squeezed her shoulder again. “Of course you can. I will see to it myself.”

Evie couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face. “Thank you, Ben.”

He gave her his own smile before standing up. “Just let me know when you’d like to send it.” He went to turn but stopped himself. However, when he turned back to Evie, he didn’t seem as sure of himself as when he first approached her. His hands were clasped together again, but his fingers tapped against the other palm.

“Should I ask the others if there’s letters they’d like to send as well?”

Evie’s brows shot up. Suddenly some of Mal’s mannerisms were making much more sense.

“No. Everyone they care for is already here.”

Ben’s nerves faded into concern, brows furrowing at her comment. Evie realized her mistake and, not wanting to comment on it further, hoped to redirect him. “They should all be back in my room by now, so you could stop by and see if there’s anything that they need.”

Ben nodded, unable to stop the smile on his face. “Thank you, Evie.”

“Harry!”

Harry groaned, rolling over so his back was to the door, hoping whoever was knocking would take it as a sign to go away.

Another thump. “Harry!”

He stuck his arm out of the cocoon of blankets he’d made for himself, hoping to have something, anything within his grasp. Eventually, he felt his fingers brush a bit of leather, and he flung his boot in the general direction of the door.

It didn’t hit, but still made a satisfying sound that he hoped would drive the idiot away.

No such luck. Only this time, the knocks were much louder, and a very different voice called for him.

“Harry! Get out here!”

He turned over, narrowing his eyes at the door. He ripped the sheets off and stomped, as slowly as he could, to the door.

“What, Captain?” As soon as he’d opened the door, Uma and Gil pushed him back inside.

“Oh don’t be such an ass. It’s something you’ll like.” Uma rolled her eyes at his grumpiness, far too used to it by now. She turned to Gil, whose attention was captured by a mysterious stain he noticed on the ceiling. “Gil?”

“Oh, right!” Gil dug in one of his pockets, then in another before he found what he was looking for. It was slightly crumpled, but it was a light blue envelope, closed by the royal seal.

“What’s that?” Harry squinted, mind still fuzzy from being rudely awoken.

“I assume it’s from your princess.” Uma couldn’t help but laugh at how Harry physically reacted. He suddenly straightened up, eyes wide as he snatched the envelope from Gil’s hands. “You’re welcome , Hook.”

But truly, she didn’t mind how he was suddenly too focused on the envelope he now held, completely forgetting about she and Gil.

While she liked the tough and crazy side of her first mate, he was also her best friend, and it always made her happy to see him happy.

And if, somehow, that prissy blue princess made him happy, who was she to complain?

She threaded her arm through Gil’s, dragging the still-distracted pirate from Harry’s room, closing his door behind them.

Harry stumbled back to his hammock, completely engrossed in tearing the envelope open. Other than the seal, there was nothing indicating it was even to him, or even from Evie.

But as soon as he unfolded the letter, letting a second, smaller letter fall in his lap, all doubt melted away. He immediately recognized her handwriting.

‘Harry,

I don’t know when this will get to you and I don’t know how, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t.

It really is another world over here. Who knew food could be so tasty? And they’ve never even heard of smog!

We’re not close to the ocean, but I’m hoping to find some sort of pond or lake that can do. After all, I need to leave something with a hook symbol, don’t I? Something to be found years from now and terrify them.

We’re surrounded by trees and gardens, which are truly breathtaking. It’s weird not seeing anything dead around here.

They make us do actual school work here. It’s not just showing up and trying not to kill each other. Some of it is actually interesting, but for the most part we’re all kind of behind. Oh — what’s really interesting are the people here.

Aurora’s daughter, Audrey, is the definition of a stuck-up princess. Of course she’s dating Ben, and won’t let anyone forget about it. It’s kind of sad, really. If I ever give you ridiculous nicknames, like “Harry-boo” or “Harry-kins”, please hook me on the spot.

Chad Charming is, by far, the dumbest person I’ve ever met. I think he tried hitting on me to get me to do his homework? He was all, ‘Is everyone on the Isle as pretty as you?’. Pshh. If he was going to compliment me , he could’ve at least made it a fact that I’m the prettiest on the Isle — take notes, Hook. Well, not that you need them. You’ve probably already said that to me, but I was probably distracted by your ridiculously gorgeous eyes. (Seriously. I’m trying to find something with that color but it’s impossible and it’s all your fault .)

Doug, the son of one of the dwarves, was also utterly charmed by me, but he’s harmless and is interested in stories about the isle, especially the pirates. You’ve already got yourself a fan over here.

Ben is not what I was expecting from the Prince of Auradon. He’s actually kind . Like, the real kind, not the “Isle kind” where you expect things in return, or need to have an alliance with someone so they don’t set your house on fire. He’s the reason I’m able to send this to you.

All that aside...I miss you. Terribly. I won’t lie, Auradon is starting to grow on me, but I’d leave in a heartbeat if it meant seeing you again. I...I don’t know what vacations and visitations will be allowed, but whatever chance I get, I will see you.

I love you, Harry Hook.

Sending you all my love,

Evie

P.S.: There’s a smaller letter in here for Dizzy. Please give it to her next time you see her.’

He couldn’t tell how long he’d been staring at that piece of paper, and he didn’t really care.

Seeing her words meant more than he would ever say aloud — to anyone but her.

He tried not to think about how she didn’t mention when she would return, or how. He didn’t know what the VKs planned to accomplish in Auradon, and quite frankly, he didn’t care as long as Evie returned.

In Isle standards, they’d been together a long time, and going from seeing her nearly every day to long-distance was something he wasn’t prepared for. But with these letters, this tangible piece of her, he could stand it a bit longer.

He took a look at the bracelet that sat on the side table, carefully dangling off his hook so he wouldn’t lose it.

Soon, he would go find his friends and figure out how the letter was delivered to see if he could send something back. Soon, but not now.

He would re-read that letter until he could picture Auradon, picture the trees she talked about that he only truly saw in paintings, picture a boy named Chad and his irritation and how ironic it was that he wasn’t so charming, picture Evie sitting by a lake, thinking of him while he thought of her.

He would re-read that letter until the next one arrived.

#hevie #harry hook x evie #descendants fanfiction #descendants #harry hook #evie grimhilde #evie #my ds fics #my fics #fics #amle tag

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filthy-reckless-rp · 7 years ago

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Congratulations Sarah! Jackson Cohan is all yours. Am I here to gush? You betcha! Oh my gosh, we loved your app for him so much. It's obvious that you've understood his characters wonderfully with every trait giving us a peak into his mindset. I love that yes, he's manipulative- a negative trait- but he's Jackson Cohan manipulative (not-so negative). His attention to detail is excellent too, really all the aspects you described for him show just how this ray of sunshine is able to take the UES by storm and even elude Gossip Girl with that impeccable private life. We are so excited to have him on the dash! Woo, okay. We'll let you get to making his account now.

Please send his account in ASAP and you know the rest.

---Admin P

OOC:

Name: Sarah

Age: 18+

Preferred Pronouns: She/hers/her

Timezone: CST

Do you have any triggers?: RFP

How active are you? (Please describe in words): uhgfsdc i scroll through the dash at least every 2 days?

How did you find out about us?: i’m currently in it!

What made you apply?: i know how great it already is plus I want a second character finally lmfao I’ve been saying I’m gonna pick one up fore

—————————-

Canon Application:

Character Name: Jackson Cohan

Why do you want this character?: One reason is he’s different from Bethany so it’s always nice to play different characters. Another reason is that I wanted to play a male. And Jackson just stood out to me. He manages to be friendly but not be a pushover, he has the chance to be manipulative but he doesn’t take it unless he feels like he needs to. He’s sly, knowing how to get other people’s information without revealing too much of himself.

Any changes? (If you wish to change an FC please discuss it with us, off anon, beforehand): Nope! none that I can think of

Wanted connections? (Just a little idea of what you might like for your character ie: ex hook-ups, childhood bestie etc. You don’t have to fill this part in!): current hook-ups. He already has childhood besties and a previous crush. I feel like a current hook-up would be nice though

Character’s birthday: July 2

3 virtues and 3 flaws, explaining each:

- Manipulative: Being manipulated by Jackson Cohan is probably not anywhere close to the top 10 worst things that could happen. In no way is Jackson’s manipulation a bad thing, he just knows how to use his smile and charm for his benefit. No harm done to others. He also uses his manipulation to get important information out of people, which he doesn’t use to harm anyone, just to know what��s going on and the real facts behind gossip girl’s lies.

- Prejudice: Growing up in the UES it’s hard to not be judgmental of those around, even those you’ve grown up with but sometimes even Jackson can’t help it. He tries not to act on those prejudices and is definitely open to viewing others differently once he gets to know them but there are just things that make him judge. He’s not the type to vocally spread his prejudices though and will definitely just keep a smile on his face to try and hide the fact that he may be judging you.

- Secretive: It’s a wonder how Jackson has managed to not reveal so much of his life but he honestly doesn’t feel like everyone needs to know everything about him. While he doesn’t have anything bad in his past and everyone has things they regret, he’s no exception, he likes to keep his private life just that. Private. He has various ways of changing the topic about his life or he’ll just answer in a way that makes it seem like he’s giving you more than you’re really getting. He’s found that keeping his private life private makes his own personal life a lot more peaceful and less chances for him to be thrown into messes that he didn’t sign up for.

+ Perceptive: The small trim you got, Jackson noticed. The new highlights, he noticed that too. A slight personality change, he may have noticed that too. (don’t ask me why 2/3 were hair related but that’s all I can think of.) The new dress you just got, he noticed even that. If there’s one thing that Jackson Cohen does well, sometimes better than most people in the UES, it’s noticing the small details. Its part of why people love him so much. Things other people don’t dwell on, he’ll try and mention just to tell you that you look good or you’re doing well. He’s mastered the art of observation and participating at the same time, even though sometimes he does prefer to do one or the other. Jackson likes to know what’s going on around him at all times.

+ Friendly: Anyone his friends bring, he’s glad to welcome them and make them feel comfortable. Unless he feels like you’re ruining the relationships and lives of those around you, he’s a constant pleasure but again he won’t hesitate to pull you aside if you aren’t. Jackson does his best to know the names of those around him even if they don’t know his name. He’s the type that is welcome to approaching people first or even just strangers approaching him first. He’s all for connections and friends all around. He’s especially more open to people who grew up outside of UES than some of the others he may hang out with but he’ll still do his best to make you feel comfortable.

+ Loyal: Some would say Jackson is loyal to a fault. Personally, he doesn’t believe it but Jackson has yet to deal with people challenging and making him question his loyalties to them. Once you’ve gained his trust, it’s something that you’ve typically got for like. He’l defend you to his last breath and try and believe the best of you until you personally prove him wrong. He’s not a big believer in gossip (or gossip girl, take that) so unless it comes straight from a source he can truly trust about the issue, he’ll doubt it happened until it’s confirmed. His loyalties play a part in why he doesn’t gossip about his friends, though he’s not completely above listening to it.

If you don’t get this character, who would be your second choice?: Maybe Christopher Vanderbilt

Para Sample (A couple of paragraphs, as the character you’re applying for): haha no.

#accepted #!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#A BIG DAY

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renaroo · 8 years ago

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Recovery None (61/61)

Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typically violence, Psychological torture & manipulation, Mentions of gore, Character death, Minor Sexual content Pairings: Yorkalina, Chex, Sisouth Rating: T Synopsis: [Canon Divergence AU] When the Mother of Invention crashed, Project Freelancer was in shambles, its surviving agents scattered, its equipment stolen, and an impending investigation into the crash from the UNSC was on the horizon. To regain control of the deeply corrupted program, the Director established a new unit from his remaining supplies – the Recovery Unit.

Three former Freelancers were chosen for particular tasks: Zero is to hunt down and destroy the Meta, One is to investigate and recover stolen or missing equipment, and Two is to take down AWOL former agents.

Of course, no one’s motivations are what they seem…

A/N: We’re... here. We’re at the end. I am... completely and utterly stunned and don’t know what to say but... we’re here. I’ve completed the literal longest thing I have ever written and there are not words to describe how I feel about this journey. I feel completely different from the person who started this fic, I feel like the fandom is completely different from when I started this fic. And wow. It’s just been such a journey and the support and love and commitment of you guys who have supported me all along -- like you all deserve awards. Putting up with my laziness and scheduling issues and everything in between. You guys are awesome and I cannot thank you enough.

Now, while this is the end, I do want you to know -- for those who would be interested -- that I will be eventually writing a sequel for this that will deal with our Recovery gang and the Chorus arc. I’m really excited and scared about it, but it’s a while off. So anyone who wants know how things end up after the ending, hopefully I’ll be getting that out to you sooner than later. Also hopefully less than 61 chapters because let’s be honest, this fic is a monster haha

Sincerely, thank you every single person who has supported me throughout this fic. It wouldn’t happen without you. And a special thanks to @analiarvb, @secretlystephaniebrown, @notatroll7, @every-survival, @washingtonstub, @icefrozenover, Yin, Red, meep, and @a-taller-tale for the feedback!

The End

South and Washington had looks on their faces as if they knew exactly what steps were coming before them. Like there was nothing at all to be hesitant about. The wind had just picked up their sails and it was going to take them forward. It was going to take them to the End.

But Carolina, despite her harsh words, had hesitation.

We have to make him pay, Carolina. This is our chance. You promised we’d make him pay-- Epsilon was harshly echoing in her mind.

“I know,” she said lowly before looking back at the crowd that had gathered together in order to secure such a shaky victory for them to begin with. Her gaze was met with York and Niner’s, several yards apart. “They came to help.”

Epsilon appeared over her shoulder. His own gaze was following the other determined Recovery agents who were rushing toward the ship. Then he looked back to Carolina. “Do you want to take a second to talk to them?” he asked. “I mean, literally a second. Because we’ve gotta get going and finish this thing and I’m not so sure how much time I have for mushy stuff--”

“There’s no mushy,” Carolina said dismissively. “And I don’t know what to say because... Never in my life did I have the confidence of knowing that when I turned around, people would still be there. I never had the confidence that what I had done was enough to keep them. And... And both of them have left me before. Even if they were doing what they thought was best. So I’m wondering... especially with as much bad as I’ve done, with as much as I’d have to do before I ever came to a modicum of good... how do I know that they’ll still be there after I leave now?”

Uncharacteristically quieted, Epsilon hugged his shoulders and joined Carolina in gazing at the motley crew that had somehow all been gathered there -- for them or not for them.

“I’ve never had that either,” Epsilon admitted. “And I mean... me. Not just... y’know. The guy I was coped from. Or the other guy I was copied from. Or any of the other copies I remember. I mean... me me. Though I don’t think any of them had it either.” He then looked at her directly. “The only person I’ve ever had, the only person I’ve ever known would be there for me no matter how much I fucked up... it’s been you, Carolina.”

The revelation nearly knocked the breath from her, she kept staring ahead, eyes blurring. She didn’t want to believe him, not on her own instincts, but her mind and that shared connection between them told Carolina that Epsilon was speaking purely the truth.

“I can’t speak for anyone else here, but I can say, even if they’e not still there when you walk out of here, I’m going to be. Just for as long as you let me pal around,” Epsilon reminded her. “So uh... Trust issues be damned. I’m kinda attached to you, Cee.”

"Whether you want to be or not by this point, I imagine,” Carolina said, finally tearing her gaze away from her former compatriots and heading toward the bowels of the ship again, quickly catching up to the other former Recovery agents. “You know what I want to do once we’re in there, don’t you, Epsilon?”

“Yeah, I’m not just sharing space in here,” he reminded her. “I’m not exactly thrilled. But I guess it’d be nice to know what it’s like just to live. I don’t think I’ve got the most experience with it.”

“Same,” Carolina responded before reaching the other two. “He’ll most likely be in the innermost part of the ship. Things are broken up, but for the most part schematics are the same. His private laboratory would be near the training room and seminar room--”

“We’re not idiots, Carolina, we remember where his fucking office is,” South snapped. “Just not so sure about how confident I am in a dead girl’s assurance that he’s still here at all.”

“A dead person’s word usually works better for me than up and up liars,” Washington said darkly. His grip on his rifle could have not been tighter.

Carolina looked at him, rather stunned. “Excuse me?”

“He’s pissy because I knew about him but he didn’t know about me and I failed to mention it in the forty minutes we saw each other before everything fucking exploded in our faces,” South answered for him. “To say nothing of you. Even I didn’t know about you. Let alone that you’re special enough to get hooked up with another AI even after the program was torn to shit.”

Epsilon disappeared. But Carolina did not miss the look toward her from Wash.

He seemed so much harder, so much less forgiving than when they had last talked just a short time ago in the canyon.

“Wash...” she said lowly. “We’ll explain everything later.”

“Great,” Wash said flatly. “I look forward to knowing exactly why I’m disgusted with all of you later. Until then, I want the Director to know exactly what hell he’s put me through. Us all through. Whether he gave us a second’s thought or not.”

Her voice was lost in her throat as she continued to stare at Wash, Carolina knew that she should have more to say to him, but she didn’t. All she had was the numb guilt throughout her while everything came crashing down. And she wasn’t sure if it was more from her or from Epsilon anymore.

The only thing either of them could think to say were the two words that were seemingly impossible to form.

I’m sorry.

Maybe she would find a better way to say them at a later time. Maybe he could forgive her at a later time. But as it stood, the way Carolina felt it in her heart and the way Epsilon was pounding it into her head, she knew better.

There was no better way to apologize. There was no better way to explain how, for so long, someone who promised to lead, to protect, to champion others could spend so much time not thinking of anyone’s aspirations or needs but her own.

And there was no nice way of explaining that part of how she learned it was through the very AI -- the very person -- who had caused him so much pain to begin with.

Not to mention, that was just Washington. Carolina hadn’t even mustered the mental capacity of worrying about how to approach South. Not that South was particularly approachable to begin with.

Man you’re piling on the super heavy stuff on us right before we’re about to bust some heads, Cee, Epsilon reminded her. Might want to tone down the guilt just a bit before we get to the hardest part of all of this.

I know, she answered simply just as they approached the final hall.

“I can’t believe there haven’t been any defenses,” Washington said out loud.

“Ship’s too busted up,” South answered gruffly.

“No, it was the Alpha,” Carolina answered. “He took control of the ship before coming to help us with the Meta... with Maine. He must have locked the Director out of any control of the ship. Any way of getting away.”

“Then why weren’t Tex and Church interested in coming themselves?” Wash asked.

“Who cares?” South growled out.

“I have the feeling that they knew that the real way this had to go down was...” Carolina turned the corner and stopped, holding out her arm to stop the other two behind her.

The laboratory door was open, and a soft glow from a view screen was present. A familiar but forgotten voice was on repeat. Carolina refused to acknowledge it, refused to let it affect her.

Slowly, she led the slow step forward toward the office.

The Director did not even have the decency to turn and face them.

“I am surprised you did not come alone, Carolina,” he said lowly. “Though I knew you would be the one to find me. I knew you would be the one to complete this program. My work.”

"Your work...” Carolina repeated, voice sounding so distant even to her own words.

“But I’m disappointed that you did not do this alone, that you didn’t have the strength to face me,” he said, setting down a bottle of what was no doubt whisky.

“Fuck you,” Epsilon exploded in anger, appearing over Carolina’s shoulder.

Carolina held up her hand to stop him from going further then looked to South an Wash. Both were watching her with suspicion.

“I’m not alone,” she agreed. “Because it’s time you faced the fact... I’m not the only one you’ve hurt, Director. It’s time for you to stop looking at the past, looking at that screen, and face all the lives you’ve shattered. It only starts with us.”

Her heart was pounding in her ears. She wasn’t even sure where she had found the words. But they worked enough -- his chair turned to face them.

In truth, Washington wasn’t sure why he was even going with his former teammates. Following orders, falling back into old routines -- maybe. But his mind was far from cooperative with the task at hand.

He hadn’t had time to ask Caboose if he was alright, or help Tucker with the task Tex assigned him -- which was really getting to him because there was that thing with Tucker and not to mention that slight waver and lack of balance that was unusual even for someone as raw and untrained as the aqua sim trooper.

And Tex and Church -- he needed to know how they accomplished whatever it had been that took out Maine at long last.

When the time came for it, Wash’s mind was far from Freelancer for the first time in years. Even as he followed his former leader, his instincts were distinctly tied to other loyalties all together.

The significance of such a fact was something that would be beyond him until later.

Because Wash’s mind was filled with Blues and Reds until they hit the laboratory and that recording played on the wall straight out of his worst nightmares. Those images too familiar and real, that voice too haunting and terrifying.

And there was a name at the tip of his tongue that Washington wouldn’t dare say as it filled him with longing and rage.

“I’m not alone,” Carolina said boldly, breaking through Washington’s silent shock. “Because it’s time you faced the fact... I’m not the only one you’ve hurt, Director. It’s time for you to stop looking at the past, looking at that screen, and face all the lives you’ve shattered. It only starts with us.”

Washington was not ready for the man who caused everything to look him in the eyes. And the Director also didn’t seem ready to give Wash that level of acknowledgement.

His focus was on Carolina.

“You hope to make me more aware of my mistakes by presenting me with the very agents who were given the most opportunity?” the Director demanded. “That is a faulty plan at best.”

“Oh, fuck you,” South snarled from the other side of Carolina as she stepped closer to the desk than either Wash or Carolina dared. “Most opportunity? You mean held to task longer than anyone else? Because everyone else fucking fled when they could? Can you be that deluded that you think we owe you for that?”

“He can be,” Wash answered before he could stop himself.

And that was when the Director at long last looked at him. That even, level glare, that knowing look. He seemed to know something about the depths of the betrayal Washington had felt.

"I am most surprised to see you here, Agent Washington,” the Director admitted.

“Believe me, there are plenty of others who I’d prefer the company of,” Wash remarked coldly. “But it seems like we have to deal with the cards we’ve gotten. And I’m here to make sure that you’re held accountable for everyone you’ve designed this project to hurt.”

“This project was not designed to harm, it was designed to preserve the best of the species,” the Director said firmly. “Or have you all forgotten that the war you signed up for was a fight for our right as a very species to exist. Humanity was losing.”

“Stop trying to make this about anyone but you,” South cut in coldly. “For fuck’s sake. At least have the decency to acknowledge that we’re here for you, not for your moral posturing.”

Washington, though, could not let the comments stand as they were. His eyes narrowed as he kept the Director’s gaze. “There was no humanity in what you designed, Director. Humanity did not win through Project Freelancer. It was stripped from us. And it was stripped from anyone who opposed us in battle or in training to make living with what we were doing easier. That’s not humanitarianism. That’s barbarism. That’s ignoring how fucked up we were willing to become in order to pretend we hadn’t lost already.”

Whatever attention Wash had held slipped in those comments and once more the Director’s gaze fell on Carolina. There was something broken and pleading in his gaze toward her, where only hardness and disappointment appeared for Wash and South.

“You have to know that what I did--”

“I know what you did,” Carolina said lowly. “And that’s enough to know there’s no excuse.” For the first time since they entered the room, Carolina looked up toward the screen that was playing on repeat. With her helmet on, Wash couldn’t see what expression she wore. And, yet, somehow, in the back of his mind, in a flurry of emotions and memories that were not completely his own, Wash knew. “You were so busy looking at the past, fighting for ghosts, you were never going to be able to fight for our futures. You were never going to support humanity. You supported what we lost. Never what we won. That’s... that’s not science. That’s not right. It’s just sad.”

“It’s wrong,” Wash added. “And you might think it’s right because you hate yourself, but nothing you did to yourself can excuse what you did to everyone else. You have to pay for that. You have to pay for everyone.”

The Director seemed to be losing what fight had been left within him. At least, until there was an echoing click of a trigger.

"And we all know that there’s only one person who’s actually going to be willing to make you pay,” South announced, her pistol aimed at the Director’s head.

“South!” Carolina growled out. She looked legitimately shaken. “He’s our bargaining chip -- the UNSC is coming right now and handing over the Director is--”

Washington studied the lack of tremor in South’s arm, the way she didn’t even flinch at Carolina’s screams. And he knew that this wasn’t a decision that words were going to alter.

The Director’s fate, and any hope Wash had of getting answers, were in South’s hands.

South, Theta said reluctantly, I’m pretty sure this isn’t what the others agreed to.

Her gun was locked and loaded. Her finger danced on the trigger, lightly squeezing, just enough, almost there. It was about to be all over. And no matter how fast Carolina was or how reasonable Wash would try to be, they couldn’t stop her.

No one could stop her. That was the point.

The Director couldn’t control her, and he still couldn’t meet her eye when he could with Carolina -- no surprise -- and Washington. What was there for them that wasn’t for her? How could he still make her care about his negligence toward her?

Why did he have the power to tie her up in knots when she never surrendered that power to him willingly before?

Eyes narrowed, South gritted her teeth. “It’d be more poetic if I was holding North’s rifle at your head,” she admitted darkly. “That’d be unmistakable. You couldn’t spin that another way. But then it’d just be about revenge for North. I got that already. This is about revenge for me. Once and for all.”

He still was not looking at her. South felt her jaw tighten.

“Have you lost your mind?” Carolina demanded. “What bargaining chip do we--”

“Oh, shut up,” South snapped.

“Excuse me--”

“I won’t. I’m not in the business of excusing anyone, least of all with this project,” South growled. “God, none of you get it still, do you? None of you realize that this isn’t about leverage or about the UNSC. Fuck the UNSC. Who do you think I’ve been working for? Who do you think North died for?”

Silently, both Carolina and Wash were staring at her in awe. They couldn’t believe it -- South could feel the reluctance they had to accept that South was capable of that level of double crossing. That level of ingenuity.

It was enough to drive her up a wall.

They still couldn’t see how capable she was.

South wished she didn’t care as much as she did about it.

“I’ll cut to the surprise for you then since you both seem so starstruck by the notion,” South sneered. “The UNSC is ran by men just like him. And they’re not interested in ethics he broke or humanity he squandered. They’re interested in the results he didn’t share. They’re interested in the equipment we use. And if you think making deals with us to turn on him is easier to these people than us all conveniently disappearing into some prison sinkhole or being accidentally voided into space, then you’ve got another thing coming. They evacuated this planet, I’m sure you all noticed. But did you ever think of why? Think of why they’d maybe want to get rid of a planet full of potential witnesses?”

"That’s not true!” Carolina spat back. “You’re making excuses for yourself so that you can continue watching out only for yourself!”

“South, there’s a way for all of us to get out of this,” Washington tried to say levelly but South couldn’t help but interrupt them both with a laugh.

“God, you’re both idiots. You’re both blind,” South said plainly. “Everything I’ve said is the truth. And even if I was just looking out for myself? How could I not? No one else is going to look out for me. That’s been abundantly clear over all this time. And no one taught me that lesson more than this program, the likes of you, and especially the Director.”

Still, he didn’t look at her.

“Poetic justice,” South said simply.

“South, you do this and we’re all screwed without exception,” Carolina snapped.

“Death is to quick and easy, let him face a day in court,” Wash added.

South, remember North, Theta whispered through her mind.

“I am remembering North!” she snarled.

“What?” Wash asked with a tilt of his helmet.

Carolina eased back. “You... you implanted your brother’s AI. Epsilon, why didn’t you--”

“Epsilon!?” Wash cried out.

South ignored them and instead looked at her shoulder as Theta projected himself. There might not have been much in the way of expressions for the sprites the AI chose for themselves, but South could feel the exhaustion and anxiety from him. It flowed through her in waves.

“Remember how North went too far... and he wasn’t going to be able to come back no matter what,” Theta reminded her. “South... I’m scared because... how far are you?”

She kept her eyes on Theta while Washington and Carolina yelled back and forth behind her. Her nostrils flared under the mask, making the air grow hot and bothersome around her head.

“Goddammit,” she snapped before ripping her helmet off with her free hand and keeping the gun aligned with the Director’s temple. “Look me in the face, you bastard. Look at me for once, you stupid son of a bitch. I’m the one who’s going to kill you, and I want to hear you speak to me.”

For the first time, the Director’s gaze fell upon South. She felt the full weight of those green eyes, the weakness in the deep bags beneath them. For the first time it was all turned on her.

“Why?” she asked simply. “Maybe they don’t need answers. Maybe they already know. Maybe they just don’t care,” South remarked with a small nod toward Carolina and Washington as they finally quit squabbling and noticed what was happening right in front of them. “But I care. I want an answer.” She nodded toward the screen. “What was all this for? And spare me the talks of humanity and preservation of the species. We’ve got about ten minutes before UNSC officers come storming the place. And you’re not going to make it that long if I don’t start hearing what I need to hear. Why. Did. You. Do. This?”

While the recording behind the Director played its audio incessantly, it might as well have been utter silence. All eyes were on them. All breaths were held.

Even Theta had reflexively disappeared from South’s shoulder and into the retreat of her implants.

“When I was young, I lost someone very dear to me,” the Director answered, his gaze unwavering even as Carolina and Washington shifted uncomfortably near them. “The war took her from me, and with her it took any beliefs and anticipations I had for the future. One life was all it took for me to realize that the ethics and standards which I once believed we all held ourselves to were arbitrary and explosive. That strength had to come from being willing to destroy what we wanted to build. And I did. I destroyed beautiful things, beautiful people, time and time again, and I created the sorts of soldiers and equipment that would sacrifice humanity for the rest of the species’ preservation. And I found the types of people who psychologically fit the mold of people who would be willing or at least capable of losing those restraints through our program.” He paused. “Then I saw a glimpse of what I had lost again. I saw a way to have both -- to have the soldier and what I had never hoped to regain. Anything less than both objectives became failure in my eyes. I... I became the failure I had always felt I was.”

South leered at him.

“Does that answer your questions adequately, Agent South Dakota?” he asked grimly. “Because they are the only answers I could hope to give.”

Scowling still, South looked Carolina and Wash’s way. “I am so sick of these cryptic-ass motherfuckers playing word games,” she informed them before shifting the aim of her gun and firing right into the Director’s right kneecap. “There he’s not going anywhere, and I left a knee for you, Wash.”

“South! You crazy asshole!” Carolina yelled in shock at it all.

“Yeah, I know,” she said, putting her firearm away and turning to leave. “Let’s go grovel to the new leash holders.”

The other two did not follow, but Theta appeared on her shoulder all the same. He looked at her almost ambivalently.

“What made you choose not to kill him?” he asked.

“Straightforward all of the sudden, aren’t we?” she asked back. “Trying to see if you can take credit for my sudden change of heart?”

“I know better,” he assured her.

“It was his eyes,” South answered, looking ahead of herself. “They were of a man that wanted nothing more than for me to put that bullet between them for him. Do the dirty work, just like he always assigned me to do his dirty work. I didn’t feel like he deserved the pleasure one more time.”

The little AI hummed and vibrated through her mind. “You decided after you saw his eyes, though. It wasn’t just the eyes.”

South sneered at him. “What? You think you can psychoanalyze me just because you’ve been playing around in my head for a few days?”

“Nope,” he answered simply.

“Fine, it was also what he said,” South answered reluctantly. “About how he let his losses overshadow any potential future.” There was a small silence between them as they advanced and South took that time to put her helmet back on. “Guess I let it get me sentimental for a moment or two. Thought too hard about it. Probably should go back and shoot him just in case.”

“I think we could stand to keep moving forward,” Theta replied. “And maybe shoot that fake body again if it’ll make you feel better.”

“That sounds like an AI that’s been hanging around my head for a few days,” South laughed. “But yes. I’ve got some things keeping me moving forward at the minute. Even if forward’s not exactly the best directions for the long term. Guess we’ll have to find something else to substitute a purpose sooner than later.”

“I’m sure we’ll come up with something,” Theta replied.

Washington stared after South as she calmly walked away and out of sight. “That woman is certifiable,” he declared.

“Goddammit,” Carolina growled, checking on the Director. “He passed out -- and can someone turn that recording off! For fucksake.”

“On it,” a chillingly familiar voice answered her just before the screen behind them went blank.

His attention drawn back, Washington stared at Carolina as she made a quick tourniquet for the man at the center of it all and worked along with the very thing that had brought Washington to his knees in pain and fury and psychological overload.

“South is certifiable,” he reiterated. “But she’s also not wrong.” He paused for a moment. “And was thoughtful enough to leave me a knee.”

“Is that supposed to be a joke?” Carolina asked thickly.

“No, the truth,” Wash answered, turning to her completely. “Though I guess that’s something you’re not so used to sharing, right?” When Carolina slowed but did not stop, Washington just let out a laugh and looked up, taking a deep breath. “I’m such an idiot... I... I was so happy to learn you were alive. I thought you had been left and forgotten, overlooked. I thought you had a reason to not come back. Unlike everyone else.” He then looked to her. “But it’s worse than that, isn’t it? I thought I was alone. Recovery One, the only agent trusted to recoup the project’s losses. The only living Freelancer who could be trusted to never stick one of those broken, damaged, barely reliable AI in my head. Well. I guess they were right on that account.”

Carolina got to her feet, blood on her hands and gauntlets. She looked at Washington for a good long minute.

“You had Epsilon before,” she pointed out.

“Briefly,” Wash replied sourly.

“Then you... probably have a clue. You probably have... a feeling about what any of this means to me. What... having Epsilon with me could mean for me. More than anyone else ever possibly could,” she explained.

“I want to hear you say it,” Wash said. “He was in my head long enough to make me doubt everything I thought I knew about myself. Long enough that I spent a year putting the pieces back together... and still couldn’t find out who I was until I got out from this program’s thumb and started to truly live because of the people I met outside of it.”

“Because of the sim troopers?” Carolina questioned.

"Because of the people,” Wash corrected her once again. “Christ, Carolina, tell me you can see that -- tell me you can hear the difference. There’s real people involved here that have been hurt. And if that can’t be acknowledged, if that can’t be treated with at least the same levity as our own trials and tribulations, then we can’t begin to pretend we’re any better than him and deserve this so-called pass for our involvement.”

Carolina looked at him utterly bewildered, but she didn’t have an excuse at the ready either.

“You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m... Wash, I’m sorry about a lot of things.”

What she meant was, she was sorry that she hadn’t seen his right to anger and vengeance and everything else either. He could almost accept it. Almost.

But they had a long journey before that.

“So are we going to... I don’t know. Tie him up with something and carry him out?” Wash asked, looking over the Director.

“We could just wait for the officers of the UNSC to get here and give them our story,” she said, crossing her arms. “It shouldn’t take that long for that group outside to explain things to them.”

Washington stared at her.

Carolina tilted her head. “What?”

“I... You honestly have no idea how ridiculous of a plan that is, do you?” he asked her, honestly baffled. Though, of course, he figured that what took him fifteen minutes to deduce about the Reds and Blues could possibly take longer for someone else.

They were outside of that canyon, after all.

“You don’t think they could give a simple explanation to the UNSC?” she asked him. “And you’re the last bastion of hope for recognizing the humanity in everyone else we’ve been overlooking?”

“Optimism and realism should not be conflated,” Wash said dryly. “So what do you want? The shoulders or the legs?”

“Suddenly I’m realizing the evil genius that was South leaving before all of this was outsourced,” Carolina said, grabbing the Director’s shoulders.

“Tell me about it,” Wash said, breathing a sigh of relief.

The sooner they got off the ship of nightmares and horrors, the sooner Wash could put it officially behind him. And the sooner that he could see those idiots of his and ask how the hell Tucker gave birth.

After that, a stern silence fell between them. It was almost too surreal to think of the moment as it was.

He and the leader he once thought was dead were carrying the man he might have hated most in all of the universe, alive, out toward the very military institution that he had felt for so long had turned their backs on him.

And while there was a rage of emotions swelling inside of him through it all, there was, at the center, a sense of calm thought. A hope and questioning that rested not on the facts of what he had lost and to who, and what would happen in the future that South had so terribly predicted.

Just his thoughts of who were waiting for him outside the ship.

And they were waiting for him outside of the ship.

“Wash! Thank fuck!” Tucker called out the moment their feet hit the snow. “Come answer some of these guys’ questions, I have no fucking idea what’s going on. And Caboose isn’t any help.”

Wash looked at the scene, the UNSC had arrived and they were looking less than thrilled.

Also Tucker was in handcuffs.

“Tucker, why are you in handcuffs already?” Wash asked dully as he lowered himself to the ground with Carolina so as to put down the Director.

“Well I figured I could save them for later,” the trooper snarked back.

“Bow chicka honk honk,” the tiny alien wrapped around Tuker’s leg cooed.

Wash couldn’t help but smirk behind his helmet. “I have... so many questions.” He glanced over to Caboose and Church... or Church-Tex who seemed to be animatedly talking to themself. “Not the least of which is how that’s coming along.”

“You want the short version or the long version?” Tucker asked.

“It always ends up being the long anyway, doesn’t it?” Wash asked, something solid and good feeling in his chest. Like he was cemented in the present no matter what was about to happen.

It felt like he finally had his anchors.

Watching the Director’s back hit the snow felt alien and off putting to Carolina. It felt like more than simply his weight had fallen from her shoulders through the action, but she still couldn’t put words to the sensation.

By the time she looked up, Washington had walked off. There was no doubt that he was still angry and resentful no matter the apologies. But more than that, he seemed to be gravitating toward the people he had befriended as well.

So much so that he didn’t even seem to acknowledge that he was walking right past some UNSC military police.

“Is that...” one of them uttered in surprise.

“This is the Director of Project Freelancer,” Carolina spoke up, waving her hand toward him. “Doctor Leonard L. Church. He is who the UNSC is looking for, correct?”

They looked at each other then back to Carolina. “He is...”

“I and my fellow soldiers here worked very hard to bring him down. He’s a war criminal,” she explained lowly. “We’ll all be glad to answer any questions the UNSC may have, but I want it to be known that everyone here right now has worked in tandem to stop the Director and secure equipment from the program for the UNSC.”

The other guard tilted his head. “You secured equipment for us as well? How? Did you have some sort of connection to the UNSC?”

“No, it was our job,” Carolina explained. “I... Some of us are Recovery Agents. And we recruited necessary help from other soldiers in order to make sure that we could attain any UNSC property if possible. When the Director of Project Freelancer seemed to be working actively against that, we took action to make sure he was stopped.”

“Sounds risky,” the soldier replied.

“It was,” Carolina answered. “But we are loyal to the UNSC. So I hope that you’ve been treating my compatriots well while we tied up this loose end for you.”

They looked at each other again, then back to the aqua colored simulation trooper that Washington was talking to.

“Do we have to take the handcuffs off that one and the extremely violent red one?” they asked her.

“I... probably,” Carolina said, earning long sighs from them both.

“Carolina!!!”

Surprised, Carolina turned.

She didn’t know why it surprised her. It made sense, she had seen them just before she had gone back within the Mother of Invention. But somehow Carolina still managed to be amazed when she saw York and Niner not only there, still with her, but coming toward her.

After everything.

“Holy shit, it’s over?” York asked eloquently, carrying Niner in bridal position as he slowed to a stop just a few yards from the Director and the UNSC officers walking toward the man.

“Holy shit it’s fucking cold out here, how’d you convince me to get out of the tank?” Niner demanded, hugging her arms.

“Because you wanted to get over to Carolina but every time that tank so much as bobs its canon, the entire fleet of UNSC officers flip their shit?” York offered just before receiving a punch to his shoulder. “Ow.”

“Don’t be a smart ass,” Niner warned. She then looked intently toward Carolina. “Are you okay?”

Carolina stared at them. “Yeah,” she said. “I’m okay.”

“Bullshit,” Niner snapped. “Little computer fucker, get out here.”

Reluctantly, Epsilon showed up over Carolina’s shoulder. “Yeah?”

“Ae the both of you okay?” Niner repeated.

Epsilon looked warily toward Carolina then back to York and Niner. “Uh... define the terms?”

Niner let out an aggressive sigh and then waved Carolina closer. “Get over here,” she ordered.

It wasn’t as if anyone could object to a direct command from the woman. So Carolina came closer and soon enough both she and York were hooked together by Niner as she squeezed her arms around both their necks.

Carolina felt the other twos’ foreheads resting against her own, and again for the second time that day, her vision blurred before she squeezed her eyes closed and swung her arms around both of them as well.

“Thank you for coming back,” she said. “Both of you. I... Thank you.”

“Sorry for leaving,” York whispered under his breath.

“Sorry for staying,” Niner muttered lowly.

“This... things are still different. Things... happened and I don’t know how to deal with all of it,” Carolina said, slowly backing away from the embraces. She looked at both of them. “I... There were a lot of truths said in that ship just now. Some of them harsh. Some of them could’ve served to be harsher. But they all made me realize that...”

“Made us realize that there’s a lot of shitty things we’ve done to other people, on purpose or not,” Epsilon picked up for her.

“I don’t know if I can... I don’t know if I’ll be happy until I make some real work on the road toward good again,” Carolina explained.

“Then you’ve got Jiminy and Cricket here to help wherever we can,” Niner said waving to herself and York. “Y’know. So long as it’s not things we’ve fucked up along the way, too. Like with Wash. We both have some headway on that one.”

York just kept his gaze on Carolina. “Where do we start, Boss?”

“Well, I haven’t spent much time around these guys,” Carolina admitted, looking to the sea of colorful armors around them. “But from what I gather... We start by mingling. Something tells me we’ve got a long road ahead with all of these guys.”

Turning to look around at everyone, York coughed. “Right... uhhh So I’ve already been assigned to Red Team?”

Both women looked at him.

“Just saying,” York shrugged. “I don’t know if I’m allowed to talk to Blues yet without being a turncoat--”

Niner punched his shoulder again. “You goofball.”

“I’m partially serious!” he laughed.

Carolina shook her head and looked across, seeing where South and Wash had gravitated toward. They seemed like different people from the ones she knew, at least while they were out there with the Reds and Blues.

Even South seemed relaxed, maybe hopeful. Maybe her pessimistic outlook was not going to come to pass.

They could only hope. At least until they stumbled into the next bit of trouble.

Epsilon shifted shoulders in order to get Carolina’s attention and made a production out of giving her a big shrug. “Eh, Red. Blue. Whatever side you choose, you’ll have to deal with me on it with you, Sis.”

“Sis?” Carolina asked with a quirk of her brow.

“Well, I can’t call you Cee all the time, Sunshine,” Epsilon replied.

“I guess not,” she agreed. “I guess not.”

#writing #rvb fic #RvB: Recovery None #Agent Carolina #Agent Washington #Agent South #Epsilon Church #the Director #AI: Theta #Lavernius Tucker #Tucker Junior

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