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thestraggletag · 5 years ago

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Human Nature, Part One

AN: Happy Birthday to me! Here’s a fic I wrote to commemorate the day. Part two needs editing but will be along shortly. Enjoy!

Also can someone please write a better summary? This is an honest request. It can be my birthday present.

Rating: R

Summary: Warm Bodies AU. After the zombie apocalypse is averted it’s up to Belle French to rehabilitate a mostly-dead Mr Gold, against advice of the experts and the wishes of the entire town. As she struggles to fan the spark of humanity back into Mr Gold she fails to notice something else kindling between them.

It took months to get back to Storybrooke after the beginning of what was known as "the treatment" by which most of who'd been affected by the zombie-like virus slowly regained their humanity. It was slow-going, the process done with an overabundance of caution that nobody begrudged, taking into account what the years before had been like. The outbreak had lasted a little under five years, but it had seemed like months, and so much had changed in that time that life before seemed like a distant memory. The idea of just picking up where everyone left off was an impossible fantasy.

When Brisbane had been hit Belle, who'd been visiting relatives at the time, had been lucky enough to get evacuated to Hamilton Island, where the only undead she'd been close to where relatives of locals, who could not bear to put them down and so kept them locked away in the basement of the local pet shelter. Once word of the treatment reached them most of them had been successfully rehabilitated, and soon after that she'd made her way back to the mainland, to be of help where she could and find out news about her family and friends.

She'd first heard news of Storybrooke from Ruby, when internet access was restored. The town had taken a hit, like most, but efforts were underway to rehabilitate as many people as possible. She cried with her friend when she called her to tell her Granny had called her by her name. Speech was a big step in the treatment, and it was then that they both knew that Mrs Lucas was going to make it.

She had to wait a long time for flights to be restored, and by then things were mostly under control. She'd heard from Ruby and others that Storybrooke was a sort of success story unlike any other, with all services restored, schools open and a rehabilitation rate that defied expectations, and a lot of it was attributed to the iron will of Madam Mayor and the security efforts of the Town Sheriff. Quite the formidable power couple, according to Ruby. She thought their love story surrounding their shared son was very cute, as far as apocalyptic tales went.

And though she had thought at first that Ruby's boundless optimism in the face of Granny's recovery was prompting her to paint a rather misleading picture of how things were back home when she finally made it back to town she had to admit it looked as good as she'd described. There were some signs of destruction, some roadblocks that were still only half-cleared and half the buildings seemed to be in the process of repair but there was an air of orderly normality that she hadn't seen in other places. Ruby had been there to pick her up from the bus stop, squealing and hugging her for the longest time before commenting on her silver-streaked hair, telling her she loved it.

"You can totally get hair dye, the pharmacy is up and running again- no idea how Mayor Mills did it but it's almost completely restocked, she must have made some interesting calls to well-connected people- but I kinda dig the look. Goes with your more angular features."

It was a nice spin on things, as if her thinner body and grey hair were audacious fashion choices and not the product of hunger and stress. The upbeat attitude was decidedly contagious, specially once she saw that her beloved library was mostly undamaged. Boarded up still, and a little worse for wear on the outside, but the inside was just as she had left it. She commented on it to Granny as the woman forced a second helping of pie on her. For someone who had undergone the treatment she didn't really look it, with the exception of a slight stiffness to her movements.

"I'm glad the town council moved so quickly to board it up."

"They had nothing to do with it. It was Gold and his crew, mainly that huge mammoth of a man that worked for him, Dove. Did it by themselves, with the help of Marco."

Though Granny's tone was as gruff and as acid as it always was when she talked of the pawnbroker Belle felt a pleasant warmth bloom in her. She'd always had a soft spot for the Scotsman, something she knew was a bit of an unpopular opinion in Storybrooke. He had always had a smile and a polite comment or two for her whenever she saw her, was a staunch ally of the library in town council meetings and was keen on chatting about a book when he returned it, which he always did in person. Once or twice they’d sat together when Granny’s was too full and his was the only table with spare seats. People had warned her after the first time they’d shared a cup of tea in public that she was better off staying as far away from possible from him, but she had refused to comply, specially when she caught the bias in a lot of the stories, like the one Ashley Boyd spun, about Mr Gold cruelly charging interest for the rent of a meager little flat after having been “a little bit late” on the rent. She was never specific about how late till Belle asked, and she reluctantly admitted it was over two months, even past the grace period contemplated on the rental agreement.

“Still, who threatens to evict a young couple with a newborn baby and nowhere to go?”

Ashley was also always careful not to mention her father-in-law, well-off and with more than enough room in his house to host his only son and his wife for a lengthy period of time. Belle could see how her tale of woe lost a little of the dramatic edge with the addition of those pesky details. So she had carried on being friendly with the pawnbroker, even if it made people look at her funny and sometimes whisper behind her back. Just one of the many things that made her strange in the little town, along with her accent and habit of reading in the strangest of moments and places. She hadn’t cared.

“That was so kind of him. I must go over to his house and thank him.”

She hadn’t seen the Scotsman around since her return, but she’d assumed he was busy either with repairs to his home or perhaps the shop, or even trying to restore order to his many properties. He was a fastidious landlord and considering his nature she imagined he’d be one of those people eager to set the world to rights, to restore order.

“You haven’t told her?”

Granny looked at Ruby reproachfully, though she tried to shrug it off. The old woman sighed, not-quite managing to roll her eyes.

“He was amongst the people infected during a breach a couple of years ago. We’ve been told he’s in treatment, but not responding well. It doesn’t quite work on everyone, as you know.”

It felt impossible, at first. Mr Gold was such a vital part of Storybrooke that it made no sense for the town to be still standing without him. He was also so strong, despite his short stature and his reliance on a cane to walk, that it made no sense to think that even the outbreak could’ve gotten to him. He was the sort of man she would expect to survive the apocalypse, if not thrive in it.

It wasn’t until a couple of days later, when she overheard Katherine Knight talk about “visiting Freddie” that she gave more thought about Mr Gold’s situation. Frederick Knight, Katherine’s husband, was amongst the people still being treated and it had not occurred to her that visits to those infected were not only possible, but desirable. It was human contact, after all, the key to guide those afflicted back to their humanity. Contact and communication with loved ones, with people near and dear, was even better, capable of speeding up the process. And she was sure that, though not close, Mr Gold had considered her a friend. She certainly knew him enough to be of help, and she couldn’t imagine people would much object to her taking him off their hands for a couple of hours a day.

It was with a sinking heart that she learned that, though the treatment of the infected was officially managed by the local hospital, the actual efforts were overseen by Mother Superior and her gaggle of nuns, all of which had survived the apocalyptic events. They had done so mostly because the good Mother had ordered the convent’s doors to be bolted at the first sign of trouble. The sisters had spent the entire apocalypse safe behind the tall walls of the convent, living off the produce from the gardens and closing their ears to the pleas for help from outside.

It was no wonder Mother Superior had decided to offer the services of her little lambs when hands were needed to treat the infected once it was discovered this could be done. It was a way to change the narrative, to erase whatever ill-feelings there remained in town regarding the nuns. It was also a way to position herself in a place of power and relevance, one she relished with little subtlety, it seemed to her. She was practically goading when she turned Belle away, telling her Mr Gold was unfit to receive visits of any kind, and that she could give her no further information.

The rumours she heard were not encouraging. People whispered about Mr Gold lashing out against anybody that dared approach him, about him savagely attacking orderlies and snapping out of restraints with a brute force surprising even in an infected. Too violent to be cured, people said, a beast on the outside as he’d always been on the inside. So thin and haggard, in such a state of rot, that he was practically a boney. The town seemed quite content to do nothing about it, so she decided in the end to take the matter to the mayor. Regina Mills was the closest thing Mr Gold had to family. They’d known each other since she was a baby- there were some unsavoury stories about the pawnbroker and Regina’s mother, but nothing anyone could corroborate- and though they usually bickered they seemed to have a certain respect and fondness for each other, at least from what she’d been able to see.

To her credit Regina did seem to share her concerns regarding Mr Gold- Hell, even Sheriff Swan, not his biggest fan, seemed sympathetic- but didn’t think much could be done about it.

“I wish I could tell you Mother Superior or the orderlies at the hospital were exaggerating, Miss French, but I’ve been to see Mr Gold. Even restrained he was quite violent, and my presence seemed to agitate him more than help him. I believe everything that could be done for him is being done. He’s simply… not responding as he should. I am told it happens.”

She seemed to be honestly contrite, which gave her the opening she needed to convince her to demand the hospital let her visit. It took a while, and some back and forth, but she was finally given permission, though begrudgingly, by Dr Whale and Mother Superior. She was full of cautious optimism that morning, joining Mary Margaret Nolan in the hospital entrance lobby to wait for visiting hours to start, listening intently as the schoolteacher told her that she was hopeful her husband would be released soon, given his progress.

Her enthusiasm waned somewhat when Mary Margaret was ushered along a brightly-lit corridor and she in turn was escorted to a key-coded door that led to the basement, and taken down a flight of stairs into a dark hall, where a clearly-recovering orderly was mopping the floors. She was told to go to the “cell at the end”, a phrase that did away with the rest of her cheerfulness. The air down there was damp and stale, and mold grew on certain areas along the walls and in corners. The floor was solid concrete, with an abundance of thin, spidery cracks, and there were heavy metal doors to her left, with small covered windows slots further down that remained shut, but likely was meant for trays.

She found him when she peered into the third door, though it was difficult to see him at first because the cell was unlit but for the light that shone from a small barred window high above and he was in a shadowy corner, standing still. It was only when her eyes adjusted to the darkness that she began to make out his silhouette, and later more and more details. In many ways it was easy to recognise him: custom suit, slightly-uneven gait, favouring one leg clearly over the other, and shaggy hair a tad too long to be respectable. At the same time, however, the man in the cell looked like a complete stranger: rail-thin, with his trousers torn and his suit jacket in tatters. He wasn’t even wearing a tie, something she’d never seen Mr Gold without. The eyes, however, were the most striking difference: clouded over, almost milky-white, dull and unfocused.

“Oh, Mr Gold…”

The living corpse seemed to shudder, head tilting back to sniff the air. She braced herself for anything, any sudden movement or anything that could remotely be construed as violent, but nothing happened. There was definitely something different, though, an awareness that hadn’t been there before. He could certainly smell her, she knew that, and had likely heard her loud and clear- infected tended to have their sense of smell and hearing heightened, even while their organs and muscles deteriorated. So he knew she was there, but did not attack her, did not seem interesting in doing her harm. The way it seemed there wasn’t anything inherently aggressive or incurable about him, he simply had been left alone to rot.

If no one was gonna do anything about it she would.

She decided the best way to establish any sort of relationship was through something she knew Mr Gold enjoyed. She set aside several afternoons a week to sit down on the hard concrete floor next to Mr Gold’s door and read him, choosing books from his favourite authors and genres. She started with Borges, which he had often checked out, and Irvine Welsh, along with some Cortázar and Verne. She would sneak in, unsure whether Mother Superior wouldn’t try to stop her if she knew what she was trying to do, and spend hours reading and drinking tea. Sometimes Ruby would sneak her something to eat- she had decided early on that she needed at least one person who knew where she was going and what she was doing just in case, specially when it became clear no one went to the basement except her. No nuns, no doctors, no one. People were literally waiting for Mr Gold to turn to dust, too squeamish to outright put a bullet in his brain and be done with it but in no real rush to see him recover either.

Spite became a motivator during those afternoons were things didn’t seem to be progressing and it looked like she was wasting her time. Mr Gold would like that, she thought privately. She felt an odd sort of camaraderie when she thought about sticking it to the nuns, about the expression on Mother Superior’s face if she succeeded. She told him about that, and about the progress being made around town. At some point she started calling him by his first name- Ramsay, a confession he made when she’d playfully teased him about having “R. Gold” as the name on his library card- thinking it might spark something.

She would feed him too, whatever large chunks of raw meat she could get from Granny, who she suspected was well aware of what she was doing but said nothing. She was fully cured, herself, with minimal sequels, but her experience seemed to have made her empathetic to Mr Gold’s plight. She had retained some of the incredible sense of hearing she’d enjoyed while undead. It wasn’t unheard of for people to keep a trait or two from their sickness, though it was rare. In some cases the infection had cause certain irreparable changes to their physiognomy, specially in those further gone.

Fortunately for Belle Mr Gold enjoyed the raw meat, though she never saw him eat it. She’d leave it before heading back to the library and it’d be gone in the morning, tray licked clean but Mr Gold back in his corner. It was a relief, somewhat, to see him lose some of his boney appearance, though he was still rail-thin, little more than skin and bones.

Her first big break happened during an ordinary afternoon, while she sat and read to him something by Horacio Quiroga. Mr Gold rather liked the dark short stories, and though some people might have thought them inappropriate reading material for a recovering zombie Belle disagreed, thinking that anything that might elicit a response from Mr Gold, any response at all, was worth trying.

It was while she was nearing the end of The Feather Pillow that she heard a shuffling and later a thump right on the other side of the door. Tentatively she knocked on the metal door, barely containing a happy laugh when something on the other side knocked back, slow but surely. It was the first time that Mr Gold acknowledged her at all and thought it was a small thing it felt like something monumental. It put a smile on her face so bright Ruby teased her about it for weeks, and prompted her to take a leap of faith one afternoon and open the latch that kept the small window on the door covered. There was no glass to further separate them so she was able to tentatively slip her hand through the opening.

“Come here, Ramsay. Come on, you know me. It’s okay.”

Mr Gold did perk up somewhat, and later dragged himself across the room. She forced herself not to flinch as he leaned forward, his nose almost brushing her skin as he breathed in deeply, hesitantly at first but pressing closer when something about the scent seemed to catch his attention or spark something in him. He never made a move to bite so for the longest time Belle just stood there, on her tippy-toes to be able to pass most of her arm through the opening, fighting the urge to pull back. Her fear gave way to cautionary optimism and later awe at the way Mr Gold practically rubbed his entire face against her hand, as if the notion of skin to skin contact was some sort of miracle. He breathed her deeply now, big lungfuls of her scent, nose pressed tightly against her palm or the underside of her wrist, his expression almost desperate. He made a sort of whining noise when she was forced to pull her arm back, and followed her hand until he physically couldn’t anymore.

She cried later that night, back in the safety of her library, away from prying eyes, part out of sheer relief and part out of anger and sadness at the thought that Mr Gold had been left to rot not because he was beyond help, but rather because it was so convenient. So many people had been given second chances once the rebuilding had started, people who had committed questionable or even downright despicable acts during the apocalypse. Ruby had warned her at the beginning about some, like Keith Nott and Greg Aston, who had taken to the chaos of the past years like ducks to water, had grown unruly and dangerous. She had heard only half-stories, mostly from Ruby, mostly things no one could prove or cared to now that the human race had another chance and the population was in dire need of able-bodied men to rebuild and reproduce. If Storybrooke was ready to embrace lowlifes like those they would have to get used to having Mr Gold back, and she’d call out anyone who dared fight her on that on their hypocrisy.

From then on it became routine to let him smell her. Mr Gold seemed to look forward to it, being sure to stay close to the door and letting out a growly sort of purr when she reached out to him. He was also eager to let himself be stroked and his hair petted, which took a bit of getting used to but to her made sense. Mr Gold had always avoided contact as a rule. Though he sometimes tended to invade people’s personal space as a tactic to put them ill at ease, he usually skirted human touch. She’d had occasion to make a study of it, back before the apocalypse, down to how Mr Gold almost always wore gloves on rent day and avoided passing anything hand to hand. She had noticed that once he got familiar with her he let his guard down a bit and sometimes allowed casual touches, fingers brushing over a book exchanging hands, things of that nature. But he’d always shied away from further contact.

Belle had long ago come to the conclusion that he must have been very touch-starved, given how little actual skin to skin contact he seemed to experience day to day. She had seen him flex his fingers often, his hands and entire body full of nervous energy, of a sort of yearning for what he denied himself. Now, stripped of all human pretenses, without the need to protect himself from others, he was seeking out that which he needed like he hadn’t allowed himself before. She told him over and over that it was alright, that he was allowed to want and seek affection, that she would never use it against him or otherwise harm him with the knowledge. She hoped it would stick on the back of his mind, so he wouldn’t be embarrassed when he was himself again, or wary of her.

She hadn’t expected it to feel so… powerful. So heady, to have someone like Mr Gold, who always seemed larger-than-life, lean on her so trustingly, so eagerly. To have a creature capable of immense feats of strength, of untold violence, purr under her touch like a kitten. She’d always wanted to do it, to reach out and give some sort of comfort to Mr Gold, a little bit of the affection he was sorely missing. It was precisely why she told herself to be cautious and not rush into things, given her impulsive nature. If she botched things now, if she lost her progress or got into a situation she couldn’t handle, Mr Gold might never recover. She was sure any excuse would be enough for people to demand he be “put out of his misery”. She couldn’t afford mistakes or miscalculations.

So she took things slow, and kept things close to the chest. Best no one knew of her progress until she could get Mr Gold talking a little, enough to prove without a shadow of a doubt that he was on the mend, and that killing him would be killing a human being and not some well-dressed boney. So she went about her day as normal as possible, helping set the town to rights, cleaning the library, helping Dove with the community garden that grew on some land belonging to Mr Gold and that was still a vital source of a lot of produce the town consumed, though the normal flow of goods and services was slowly being re established across the estate. Dove was an attentive gardener and the work was strangely soothing. She set her afternoons aside for Mr Gold, though, reluctant to miss a day and cause a potential regression. And it helped her too, helped her deal with what she’d lived through, the peace and companionship she found in the basement of the hospital, with Mr Gold. In the hope that sparked in her every time she caught a glimpse of his eyes and they looked less cloudy and more focused, more alive.

She was so focused on those things, so eager to escape to her afternoon trysts, that she forgot to pay proper attention to her surroundings. It was night when she left the hospital, later than she’d realised, but nothing seemed amiss at first. Even after she heard something she didn’t immediately panic. The Rabbit Hole was close to the hospital, and people were still getting celebratory drunk in honour of the ending of the apocalypse. Sheriff Swan was good about keeping things controlled, all things considered.

It wasn’t until they were almost upon her that she noticed them, staggering around shouting at her, some slurred lewd proposition that made her walk faster, but nothing else. When she chanced a glance back she felt the first true jolt of fear, recognising easily the tall, lanky man as Gregory Aston, which made the other man following her his buddy Keith. Greg had made some advances before the apocalypse, which she hadn’t returned, much to his displeasure. But back then they had both lived in a society with strict rules that limited whatever he might have wanted to do when he was rejected. Now he strutted around Storybrooke getting into fights and using his brute strength to get whatever he wanted, having grown used to the more violent times of the apocalypse, when his fighting ability had given him a position of prominence. Keith, on the other hand, had thrived in the smuggling business, specially of drugs, and was still active. Emma was a competent sheriff but the problems of a town like Storybrooke in the post-apocalypse were many, and the resources of the sheriff’s office were limited.

Being the stupid sort of drug dealer one would’ve expected from Keith he often tested his merchandise and shared it with close pals, which included Greg. Belle could see it the closer they got to her, the tell-tale signs of a person under the influence of more than just alcohol.

“Hey, Belle, wait up, we wanna talk to you!”

She began to seriously consider her options. The library was too far away, and it was too late for Granny’s to be open. The station was close by, but the sheriff was doing rounds so no one would be there. It seemed safer to go back to the hospital, where there was bound to be at least a couple of nurses on their night shift.

“Hey, you frigid bitch, I know you can hear us!”

Running probably was ill-advised, but at some point Belle couldn’t fight her instincts anymore. The relief she felt when she burst through the doors of the hospital was short-lived. The reception area was deserted, and access to the rest of the hospital seemed to be blocked, a precaution typical of the days of the apocalypse that people seemed to still be keeping. Frantically she went to the one door she knew the combination to, but when she tried to close it behind her it was wrenched from her grasp, either by Greg or Keith, she didn’t bother to look. Someone grabbed her arm when she raced down the stairs, but years of surviving in a high-stress environment had given her sharp reflexes that helped her pull herself free.

“There’s nowhere to run, sweetheart. We promise we’ll be nice, we just want to be nice to you, Belle.”

She didn’t know when she made the decision. It was in a split second, more instinctual than anything else. Mr Gold’s cell was bolted from the outside but not locked, she’d noticed that from the beginning. She’d been tempted to open the door so many times, but she’d restrained herself. But now adrenaline was rushing through her and the survival instinct that had kept her alive through hell on Earth moved her to make a quick decision, to seek out safety. Without pausing to second-guess herself she unbolted the door, pushing her way inside and closing it behind her.

“Got ourselves a room, how nice.”

“Hope there’s a bed inside!”

It was dark inside the cell. The only light came from the corridor and was too faint to reach inside. Belle knew she was not alone in the room but she could not hear or see Mr Gold. The infected got very good at being quiet and staying out of sight, like the best of predators, which wasn’t an altogether-reassuring thought. Greg and Keith stumbled inside the room, uncoordinated and sluggish from drink and whatever else they’d consumed, and Belle stepped back, seeking who she knew was there.

“Now, Belle, this doesn’t need to be bad. Ugly. We can… can treat you right. Make it good. We’re nice guys.”

Greg had always said that. Belle was sure that, against all odds, he believed it. Even as he clamped a hand around her arm, with enough force to make her wrist hurt, to make her cry out in pain and fight to wrench herself free. Even as Keith laughed next to him, clumsily pawing at his belt. There was a second of all-consuming fear, the kind that paralysed the muscles and made it difficult to breathe. Then there was a growl and she felt rather than saw an arm wrap around her waist and pull her backwards. Another arm went across her chest, securing her against something solid behind her.

“Holy fuck, what the-?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The sheer terror in both men’s eyes was almost amusing, if it weren’t for the fact that Belle felt the same. Mr Gold’s face was next to hers, snarling, teeth bared in a clear warning. She wanted to say something, so that he’d recognise her as a friend, let himself be soothed, perhaps, but nothing came out. Greg and Keith scrambled backwards, fighting to be the first ones out the door, bolting it behind them for good measure before running away, the sound of their footsteps eventually fading into nothing. They weren’t going to look for help, she knew it. Too messy for them, too dangerous. They’d left her alone, perhaps even hoping Mr Gold would take care of her so she wouldn’t go telling tales and for a moment her anger overcame her fear, so thoroughly that she didn’t notice Gold’s head move, his nose coming to press against her neck. He took a deep, audible breath and Belle froze again, part of her bracing herself for a bite. But none came, Mr Gold seemingly content to scent her. Slowly Belle felt fear drain out of her, allowing her to somewhat compose herself.

“It’s just me, Ramsay, Belle. You know me, don’t you?”

He made a purring sound, the one she’d grown so used to, and loosened his hold on her, not a drop of aggression on him. Belle tentatively petted his hair, excited now to be able to look at him so closely, to notice the very slight tint of pink on his cheeks and the slight warmth of his skin, signs of his recovering humanity. He, likewise, seemed curious about her, hands hovering near her, as if asking for permission to touch, to explore. And though he didn’t dare grab her again he had no problems pressing his nose close to whatever part of her he could reach. He spent long minutes scenting her hair, fingers ghosting over it, as if delighted by the feel of it. Fascinated and intrigued she let him proceed, allowing him to sniff at her forehead, down her neck and over her torso. It was strangely endearing, or at least until he pressed firmly against the juncture of her thighs, taking a deep breath in an attempt to scent her through her underwear and cotton shorts.

“No!”

She pushed against his shoulders and he scrambled away, clearly feeling chastised by her tone and actions. He looked confused, as if unaware of whatever he’d done wrong, and whatever offence she might have felt a moment ago went up in smoke. Slowly, so as to not spook him, she sat down in the cot next to him and turned his face so they’d make eye-contact.

“Hey, Ramsey, I’m sorry. You didn’t know. It’s okay, Ramsey, I’m not mad.”

Something sparked in his eyes, and he tilted his head to the side, brow furrowing.

“R-r-r-r…” With a jolt, Belle realised he was trying to speak. It was more of a growl than anything else, but there seemed to be a purpose to it, a desire to shape it into something. “R-r-rum.”

He splayed a hand against his chest and repeated the word. Belle understood at once what he was trying to say.

“Yes, yes, that’s right. You’re Ramsay, that’s your name. Ramsay.”

She said it slowly, over and over again, delighting in the way he focused on her lips as they shaped out the word. He couldn’t quite repeat it, not entirely at least, but he recognised it without a doubt as his name, the first concrete proof that he could not only understand speech but that he had also recovered a sense of self, and at least partial access to his memories. He also seemed to realise it was a momentous occasion, his lips curling up into a shadow of a smile, looking more like Mr Gold than ever.

Knowing that certainly Ruby or Dove would report her missing tomorrow and that this would be an obvious place to check out, seeing as to how Emma and Regina suspected of her near-constant visits, she settled down to wait, lying down on the cot so her face was close to Mr Gold- Rum, now, in her mind- who was still on the floor, looking at her. She talked to him as one of her hands combed through his tangled hair, told him about Dove and how he was taking care of everything for him, about how the Library was ready for re-opening and how things were slowly returning to normal. There was an understanding in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, as if one more of many veiled had been lifted and he could see the world more clear now than before.

She didn’t recall falling asleep, but she must have at some point. When she awoke there was no panic, even when she registered the grey walls of the cell and the thin, hospital-issue mattress beneath her. Rum was next to her, sitting on the floor leaning against the cot and watching her from beneath a curtain of shaggy hair. It was, she was sure, longer than it had been weeks ago, another sign of his blossoming humanity to add to her list.

“Good morning, Rum.”

She pulled herself to a sitting position, looking around her. Now that there was slight coming into the room from the small window in a corner she could see the room properly, and winced at the signs of decay and disrepair. Surely it couldn’t be conductive to his recovery for him to be locked up in a place like that. She would need to try and convince Regina to do something about it, if she could somehow get the woman to the cell so she could see with her own eyes that Rum was on the mend, and certainly not a danger to anyone.

It was while she contemplated how to go about it all that she heard faint sounds, and later the murmur of voices. Someone shouted her name, desperately- Ruby, it sounded like- followed by others. Rum tensed up beside her, scrambling to stand between her and the door. She was about to try and calm him down when she was startled by the cell door being violently yanked open, Sheriff Swan stepping into the room with her revolver up and aimed squarely at the Scotsman’s head. Behind her Belle could see Ruby, David Nolan- who acted sometimes as Deputy Sheriff, and the major herself.

“No, wait!”

Thankfully for her Rum was a short man, so getting in front of him guaranteed Emma would be unable to shoot him in the head. It didn’t make her drop her stance, though, specially when she saw Rum grab her from behind and snarl.

“Belle, what the fuck? Get out of the way!”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s okay. I’m okay. He’s not gonna hurt me. He’s not aggressive.”

She knew how ridiculous she sounded like, with Rum behind her, teeth bared and hands digging into her skin to the point where she had to admit hurt a little, but it was important that they understood.

“He… he’s on the mend. He just thinks you’re threatening me. Just… just stand down. He’ll relax.”

She wasn’t sure he would, but it was worth a try. Emma, to her credit, didn’t dismiss her words, and obviously noticed Rum was making no move to bite or otherwise attack her. She lowered her firearm and relaxed her posture, and little by little Belle felt Rum do the same behind her, though he kept one of his hands curled protectively on her shoulder, as if ready to yank her back at the first sign of trouble. She took advantage of the tentative peace to recount the events of last night, trying to be as detailed as possible. Though she got some sceptic looks she could see that at least Emma and Regina were considering part of what she was saying, particularly regarding Keith and Greg. When it came to Rum, however, the general consensus seemed to be that Belle was likely being a bit too optimistic, and there weren’t enough grounds to challenge the authority of Mother Superior regarding Mr Gold’s situation.

“No, you’re not listening to me. He’s on the mend. He knows who he is, he has memories. Look at him. At the colour of his skin, at his eyes. He’s better. He knows who I am, I’m sure.”

She stared at Emma, hard, as if daring the blonde to contradict her, to pat her on the head and tell her she was mistaken, confused, seeing things that weren’t there. To her surprise she felt Rum’s hand on her shoulder tighten.

“B-B-B-Be-Belle.”

It was more of a croak than anything, but there was no mistaking what he’d just said. Everyone froze in place and things were deadly quiet for a second or two. Belle could have sworn that when she chanced a glance at Rum there was something of the familiar Mr Gold smirk about him, the satisfied, smug look he often got after striking a deal or getting the better of people. Finally, after what felt like forever, Regina spoke.

“I can’t wait to see the look on Mother Superior’s face when I tell her this.”

Rum’s progress seemed to accelerate after that, though his vocabulary remained reduced. But his understanding of speech and his communication skills evolved immensely, and there was a constant awareness now of what was going on around him and a spark of intelligence that hadn’t been there before.. The major, likewise, was determined to make her own progress and before the week was out she managed to arrange a review of Mr Gold’s case with Dr Whale and Dr Hopper, against the express wishes of Mother Superior. Both reports were as positive as Belle could’ve hoped for, with Dr Hopper encouraging Mr Gold be moved to his own house for the remainder of his recovery, which was usually the next step once patients had developed enough understanding of the world around them.

Belle and Dove worked tirelessly to put Mr Gold’s house to rights, or as close to it as possible. Dove had boarded it up after Mr Gold had been infected, so it was quite the job to open it up again and clean it, but the inside was mostly well-preserved. All around Storybrooke news of the imminent release of the pawnbroker spread around fast, and the reception was more than a little chilly. No one dare take it up personally with Belle- apparently the first idiot to even insinuate something like that had had a pickaxe nearly flung at them by Leroy- but people definitely gave her hostile looks and were otherwise very vocal about how much better things would’ve been if Mr Gold had simply… faded away. It was disgusting and she was grateful that those closest to her seemed to be on the same page.

It was nighttime when Rum was officially discharged. He’d been already moved to a regular hospital room a day before in preparation and to administer any final tests and such. Afterwards they left him sitting in the hallway, which was where she found him. He visibly perked when he saw her, lips curling into that adorable half-smile that she remembered from years ago. He lurched forward towards her, which made her notice his limp was more pronounced than before. Infected people gained strength and agility due to the changes in their bodies, which could also strengthen injured bones and muscle. The more Rum’s body returned to its natural state the more his old injury reasserted itself. It was a strange sort of positive sign.

Thankfully the streets were deserted, like she’d hoped when she’d suggested Rum be released at night. They walked slowly, him leaning slightly against her for balance, looking around with unabashed hunger. He breathed in deeply, scenting the air, silently reveling in his freedom. Certain buildings and sights seemed to catch his attention, his eyes lingering on the diner, the library and specially on his pawnshop. When they finally got to the edge of town and he spotted his house he visibly moved faster, tugging her along and paying little attention to his dragging right leg as he all but sprinted towards it. His movements were still very wooden and stiff but the progress was astounding.

The house was dimly lit, electricity still being strictly rationed, but Rum seemed to want to explore everything at once, at least until something seemed to occur to him and he darted awkwardly up the stairs. When she followed him she found him in his ensuite bathroom, shower already on. He was struggling to take his tattered clothes off, which was no easy feat given his current lack of dexterity. Belle helped him take his jacket off, trying not to smile at his slightly abashed look. What was left of his shirt was partly stuck to his undershirt and skin by grime and blood. It took ten minutes and a pair of scissors to peel the fabric off him safely. His torso was littered in half-healing bite marks and scratches and when she gently touched a couple of them he sighed, pressing his forehead against hers.

“I’m-m-m okay.” She didn’t realise until he tried to console her that she was crying. “Ev-v-v-very-thing is o-k-k-ay.”

His brogue was so thick it was difficult to understand him, and his voice was still raspy and harsh form disuse but the gentleness with which he sought to reassure her made his words soft as butter. She helped him out of the rest of his clothing, leaving his boxers on when it became clear he was not keen on the idea of having her remove them. She rummaged his walk-in closet for a pair of pants, fresh underwear and a t-shirt and left him to shower in peace. Afterwards- thankfully, dressing up had been easier for him than stripping down- she sat him down in front of a mirror and trimmed his hair at his request, pleased at the results. Showered and properly groomed Rum was looking more like himself than ever.

When she brought up the idea that she might stay the night- Dove had prepared a room for her just in case- he looked painfully relieved and agreed vigorously, not letting her out of his sight until she slipped into her own room, leaving the door ajar behind her. He shuffled into the room that she’d pointed out was his and laid on the bed, feeling a strange burning in his eyes, and a heaviness that he didn’t recognise at first. Minutes later he was asleep.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #Thestraggletag fanfiction #Human Nature

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neverwatchedonepiece · 6 years ago

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623-624: "Time for Tearful Goodbyes! Departure from Punk Hazard!" and "G5 Destroyed! Doflamingo's Raid!"

DOFLAMINGO, YOUR BLOOD PRESSURE, PLEASE. D:

Those veins will blow any second!

You need to relax. Subscribe to Headspace. Take a yoga class. Kill some innocent Marines--- oh...

Oda has knocked it out of the park yet again. Now Doflamingo has entered the game, the implications of the wider criminal network of New World pirates has come to the fore. This, of course, means Law’s plan to take down Kaidou is not only super ambitious but also fraught with peril.

Considering I go on and on about peril like a broken record, this is a good thing.

And sorry about that last mini hiatus, by the way. Blame it on full rewrites and Resident Evil 2.

“Watcha thinkin’ bout, Luffy?” “Chikkin.”

“And thus the Strawhat crew spent some time intoxicated during their celebrations.”

Eloquently summed up by the Narrator, I feel. xD Totally love how the Strawhats can switch from party mode to sober and ready to sail within minutes. Guess that’s part of the pirate job description. Things change on a whim out there in the New World. Sobering up fast is a vital survival skill.

There was a mini recap of the terms of Law’s alliance with Luffy. Smoker wanted to know what was going on. “There’s no way you believed I’d keep a promise to a pirate like you. If you really wanted to silence me, you had plenty of chances to kill me. What are you planning to use Strawhat for?”

At first I was like, what the hell, Smoker? Stop being arsey with all the Marines vs Pirates crap. You only escaped Punk Hazard alive because you teamed up with Law. Everyone’s on the same page right now. What happens on Punk Hazard stays on Punk Hazard. None of your men will rat on you for chatting to Law. Later, of course, I changed my opinion on this.

The recap of the Law/Luffy alliance chat revealed a bit more information about Kaidou. According to Law, Kaidou the Beast is known as the most powerful creature in the world. Creature, I think, being the operative word here because he might not actually be human?

One of those hype-building silhouette stills showed up, with Big Mom, Blackbeard, Kaidou, Shanks and Whitebeard. Couldn’t make out much of Kaidou, so I’m still none the wiser on the appearance front. Maybe he’ll be hairy, with that whole beast thing he’s got going on.

Back in the present, Law was characteristically cagey about the chat with Smoker. He told Smoker there was no real reason he let him live, but turned round and spilled that he was “planning on heading to Green Bit.”

I’m still confused about the Green Bit scene. Mainly because I have no clue where/what it is. Is is a code name for Dressrosa? Is it another island completely? Is it a town somewhere in the New World? Or is Law trying to throw Smoker off the scent because he doesn’t want his favourite smokey Marine to be endangered again?

Whatever the case, Law had some final business to attend to before waving goodbye to Punk Hazard. Caesar, Baby 5 and Buffalo were chained up in a corner and drew the filthiest looks when he walked over. (Well, Baby 5 and Buffalo did. Caesar was still unconscious.) They really are acting as if Law has betrayed them somehow.

Doflamingo also keeps calling Law a brat. Vergo was also riding the brat train hard. Can’t help but think Law was affiliated with Doflamingo when he was a kid. Maybe he resented it all these years and this is overdue payback.

We hate love hate love you JUST GO BEFORE WE CRY!

At the harbour, the Strawhats continued to be absolute diamonds. Apparently, Nami and Chopper refused to sail until they knew the kids would be okay. The good news is that Vegapunk himself offered to help cure the kids of Caesar’s meth candy! Wonder what Vegapunk is thinking right now. He used to work with Caesar. Probably, “Always knew that guy was an asshole.”

As Luffy couldn’t be bothered waiting for another Marine ship to arrive, he told Smoker to just take the SAD tanker and send the kids home on it. Good decision, given a feathery menace was approaching at speed.

The scene with the G5 pretending to hate the Strawhats - erecting a protective banner so the kids wouldn’t be able to thank the dirty, cheating pirates - made me mad at first. I thought, damn, was that ungrateful or what? The Strawhats were the reason they escaped Caesar’s lab with their lives. If the Strawhats hadn’t been there, they would be locked up in cells and the last thing they’d ever hear would be a hiss of gas and a soft, “Shurorororororororo....”

But when the foghorn blasted and the ship set sail, Oda revealed some of the G5 guys’ inner thoughts. Sanji lead them out. Zoro and Tashigi teamed up. Law and Smoker fought together. Usopp guided the Minions to safety. Chopper and Nami helped the kids. Then I saw the sweat drops and the oddly tight jawlines.

Yup. They were fronting.

When Tashigi called them out on their rudeness, they even admitted it. “But Tashigi-chan, if we don’t stop insulting them, we’ll end up actually liking these outlaws.”

Ha. It is way too late for that, G5. You love the Strawhats. No one can escape the roaring event horizon of their charm.

Luffy was totally oblivious to it all. He just laughed and, “What weird Marines.” I mean, come on, G5. Don’t you realise by now that Luffy does not do subtlety?

As they walked to the ship, Zoro suddenly realised Law was tagging along. Usopp whispered in his ear, “Oh yeah, you don’t know. Luffy’s making trouble again.” Poor Zoro. Always the last one to know. xD

A brief flashback of all the major moments in the arc finished it up nicely. Luffy taking that DDM distress call, the fiery dragon, finding Kinemon, discovering Caesar had been drugging innocent kids, Smiley, Luffy declaring he would “kick Caesar’s ass and kidnap him” (best), saving Mocha, Caesar gloating about how well connected and protected he was before the final grizzly magnum smacked him out of the action.

A standard, uplifting ending with dramatic fanfare and Luffy shouting, “SET SAIL!”

But not quite.

For Doflamingo drew nigh...

Law Didn’t Spend Seven Years In Med School To Be Called Traff

The scene when Law chatted to Doflamingo over DDM was probably my favourite across 623-624. It ramped up the stakes and reset the peril level to red alert. Only one might be tied with it.

Doflamingo bounded across the “sky path” (what is that?”) He bemoaned the fact it cut short. “You brats seem to have the devil’s luck.” He spied something floating on a raft below. He found Buffalo and Baby 5′s disembodied heads chained to it. He jumped down for a chat.

It was weird seeing Baby 5 and Buffalo so contrite. They kept declaring how ashamed they were. “I wanna apologise with my death. I was needed and couldn’t help,” etc. Doflamingo didn’t want to kill them. He needed answers.

What Doflamingo didn’t spy was a video DDM. Law’s voice spoke through it.

“What a surprise. I didn’t think the boss would come out himself.”

“Is that you, Law? Long time no see. Couldn’t you have stayed so I could talk to you in person?” At the point, Doflamingo was still supremely confident.

“If you’re looking for Caesar, he’s with me.”

To hammer home the point, Caesar’s wheedling voice cried, “JOKERRRRRR, PLEASE SAVE ME!” (Lol, oh Caesar.)

“Where are Baby 5 and Buffalo’s bodies?”

“That’s not what we’re talking about,” Law said, taking back control of the conversation. “Let’s make a deal.”

“Don’t try to be so tough,” Doflamingo laughed. “A brat shouldn’t try to act like an adult.” (There’s that calling Law a brat again. Plus, Doflamingo tried to take back control of the situation by ignoring Law and pressing his own agenda.) “Where are you right now? You shouldn’t anger me?”

“Anger? Your most important trading partner is Kaidou the Beast. You’re the one who shouldn’t anger him. What do you think would happen if he found out you couldn’t make SMILEs anymore? He’s not a man you can negotiate with. There would be a brutal battle. You would be killed.”

For the first time, the slasher smile was wiped off Doflamingo’s face. Forehead veins began to throb. That had obviously hit a nerve.

“You’re taking this joke too far, Law. What do I have to do for you to give back Caesar? What are your demands?”

And there it was. It definitely hit a nerve because Doflamingo has deigned to negotiate with the brat. Kaidou really must be something if he can intimidate Doflamingo.

Law’s demand was kind of weird. It must mean something, but I have no idea what yet.

“Give up your Shichibukai post. Throw away everything you have gained these past ten years and return to being a normal pirate. Of course, if you do that, the Admirals will hunt you down. You have until tomorrow morning’s news. If I see you’ve retired from the Shichibukai, I’ll contact you again. If I see nothing, negotiations are over.”

I have no idea why Doflamingo *needs* the Shichibukai position so badly (other than being able to live on Dressrosa, I guess) but Law threatening to take it from him in exchange for Caesar made him M. A. D.

Multiple veins popped.

It was not pretty.

I guess Doflamingo is now on a deadline. Here’s hoping he does not catch up with the Strawhats before they reach Dressrosa. For that is their canon confirmed next destination! They are sailing to meet Doflamingo on his home turf. Foolhardy? Of course! It wouldn’t be the Strawhats otherwise, right?

Meanwhile... Back On Sunny

This was so funny. Chopper fixing up Caesar so he can beat him all over again. Even Sanji said, “What kind of doctor are you?” But Caesar, though. Imagine bitching and moaning, “Oweeee, it hurts!” when you gleefully killed tons of people without a flicker of remorse. You deserve it, Caesar. Suck it up and take the L.

Franky also told the story of how he retrieved Mini Merry Mark II eight times (Franky’s long, luscious hair in bunches was excellent, btw).

While Sunny descended a Sea Slope (dat Oda creativity again), the team gathered round to discuss The Plan. Zoro, now aware the plan was to take down a Yonkou, was suddenly and enthusiastically on board. Luffy asked if anyone objected and Brook replied, “Does objecting do anything?” (Lol, Brook.)

Sanji reminded Law again with a whisper in his ear that Luffy’s idea of an alliance is different from his. I think this might mean something later, so I am recording every instance of this warning as it’s come up twice now.

Then Sanji called Caesar a weird sheep and smacked him when Caesar said, “You’re all fools. You think you’ll get away with this? You’ve landed yourselves on some major big shots’ wanted lists. I hope you realise your foolishness before you die.”

And Chopper was like, “Oi. No kicking until after I’m done treating him.” xD

Law updated the Strawhats on the situation. Most of the Big Name Pirates of the New World have turf on this sea. This has created a massive criminal syndicate. Everyone is linked with everyone else. The scale of operations is on a completely different scale than the Strawhats have been used to. Deals and trades are done in secret so the don’t attract Marine attention. Law also updated them on Doflamingo’s trading relationship with Kaidou.

I’m not sure but I get the feeling Law is enjoying the prospect of taking down Doflamingo even more than Kaidou. There is history between these two and I cannot wait to find out what it is.

Ahem...

And the scene that is tied with Law threatening Doflamingo over DDM?

Why it’s the scene when Aokiji Showed Up Out Of Nowhere To Kick Doflamingo’s Ass, of course!

While Smoker and his G5 guys stayed behind to rescue any petrified survivors (still a bit salty about that, but I’ll get over it), Doflamingo landed on Punk Hazard like a bomb going off. A single, loose pink feather falling to earth was all the warning they had. Then he hit them with Conqueror’s Haki.

The veins. Oh, the veins. Veins galore criss-crossed that forehead. I counted approximately twenty.

I thought, this guy is out for blood. But he had questions that needed answered first. Doflamingo is not a reckless guy.

“Are they all gone? The tanker’s not here, either. I believe a group of pirates were just here until a minute ago. Where did they go?”

Maybe if he hadn’t opened with Conqueror’s Haki, he would have got some answers. G5 resented the fact he’d attacked them. There was an attempt to fight Doflamingo. An attempt.

With a few twitches of his fingers, Doflamingo took control of their bodies.

“Law could be a problem but Strawhat is just a pirate. Where did you let them run off to?” He turned the G5 against each other, forced friendly-fire massacre style. His pointy shoe stomped a random G5′s chest. “ANSWER ME. What direction did those brats go?”

When the G5 couldn’t answer, they had outlived their usefulness. “Then die.”

Luckily, Smoker smoked into the fray and saved their asses. There was a brief stare off. Doflamingo had a Scary Shiny Glasses moment.

“Smoker, tell me where those brats are.”

This is when Smoker really came through for me. He knew Doflamingo was a corrupt betrayer of the Marines. He played dumb, but could not resist getting a jab in at Doflamingo.

“Who knows? I sure don’t, Joker. They must’ve slipped through our fingers. How can I explain this to our Base Commander, Vergo?”

Smoker made two mistakes. He revealed to Doflamingo that he knows his underworld nickname and hinted he was aware of Vergo’s true allegiance.

Doflamingo’s voice went eerily quiet (I like his VA). “He’s dead, right? It sounds like you know too much.” His hands twitched and he leapt at Smoker.

Does Doflamingo have telekinesis, or something like that? A power that lets him control the movement of others? I’m still not sure what it is. It looked great in the fight, though. Smoker kept getting cut by slashes out of nowhere.

Then, just as Doflamingo sat on Smoker, about to end his existence, a Presence drew up behind him.

“Oh, my. Sorry, little boy. Could you move, please? He’s my friend.”

Holy hype machine, Batman.

You could have knocked me down with a feather. Aokiji, fresh from quitting the Marines, is back in business!

Doflamingo is not having a good day.

Usopp has become oddly genre-savvy.

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whipplefilter · 6 years ago

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A bit of an interesting question mainly asking, whats your take on how the piston cup would have been from the 70's around strip weathers early years to the 90's before McQueen showed up?

@the-kings-tail-fin‘s post on something similar to this is one of my favorite posts! (Also, it is a small miracle anyone is every able to find an old post on this god forsaken website.) I think she’s totally on point with how the 70s and 80s would have unfolded. I hope everyone gives the full post a read!

To add, I would imagine that the history of the Piston Cup unfolded somewhat similarly to NASCAR itself–the big difference being, of course, that the Piston Cup cars were capable of running a lot longer than their human counterparts, given that we have Strip Weathers running competitively in 2006. Another big difference would be that I feel like the Piston Cup didn’t have its 90s heyday in the same way that NASCAR did. Jeff Gordon’s Pixar counterpart raced in a different series, after all, and while Junior exists in the Piston Cup, but it doesn’t really seem like he has the same status in their world as Dale Jr. definitely has in ours. We don’t see the Piston Cup’s superstars as being of the 90s. Judging from the fans in the stands and the storylines that RSN offers up, LMQ is the craziest thing to shake up the Piston Cup in decades. Like, before LMQ came along, CHICK HICKS was the newest best thing they had to talk about besides The King. Chick Hicks! Let that sink in for a moment.

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Piston Cup weren’t in some worryingly dire straits in the 90s for that exact reason. I’m sure there were plenty of fans thrilled to come watch The King do his thing for decades on end, but I also feel like there’s only so much attention The King can command all on his lonesome. For decades on end.

Here’s my hypothesis: As cars, racing’s gotta be hands-down the biggest sport around. But in LMQ’s rookie season it’s apparently still niche enough that most/all of Radiator Springs still has no idea who Lightning McQueen is. I know RS was a small dying town in the middle of the desert, but I can guarantee you that even in Seligman AZ most people are gonna know who Lebron James or Kobe Bryant is. If in the Cars universe the biggest sport in their world doesn’t ping even the furthest reaches of the radars of anyone in town, that sport’s in trouble.

Enter Lightning McQueen.

I feel like aside from his obvious talent, one of the reasons LMQ was soooooooo big his rookie year is because the Piston Cup truly needed someone like him to come along, in order to stay afloat. No matter how many crew chiefs he fired, or pitties he disrespected, the Piston Cup needed him. (50% of the crowd was probably genuinely into his antics and found his rakish cockiness appealing, while the other 50% tolerated it because at least it was something.) But regardless, logistically, the Piston Cup needed this guy badly in order to scrape their way back to cultural relevance.

The need for a tie-breaker? Praise Jesus.

The disappearance? GLORY HALLELUJAH.

THE ACTUAL TIEBREAKER? PISTON CUP IS BACK IN BUSINESS, BABY.

Of course, the Piston Cup LMQ inadvertently helped rebuild by existing is the only Piston Cup he’d ever known, so he probably had no idea so much was riding on his talent, and/or his uncanny ability to generate storylines by basically flailing into dramatic stardom.

Lightning obviously knows he’s well-loved, but he probably didn’t know how much he really meant to the Cup and everyone in its stands. Cars love him because he’s a great racer, but it’s more than that. It’s their sport; it’s their home. And he helped them win it back.

Funnily enough, it might actually be that LMQ somehow managed to do for racing what he realized he wanted to do for Radiator Springs. Guess he just has that effect on things, creating feelings in others that he himself doesn’t understand. ;P

You are so, so loved.

#lightning mcqueen #cars headcanon #piston cup cutes #worldbuilding #cars fandom #cars 1 #cars 3 #asks #jeremeymcdude #i hadn't really thought about this until starting to compose this response and now i'm all up in my feelings #help #HEEELPPP #that's my baby racecar <3

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atamascolily · 8 years ago

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(The) Trickster

In which Rumina returns, nothing goes according to plan, gods are jerkasses, and a LOT of footage from previous episodes is re-used.

Yes, I know these are hopelessly out of order but Nox and I re-watched this episode last night and I want to blog about the experience now instead of waiting a few weeks. So here we go.

(Photos from Far Far Away.)

We open with Maeve riding on the beach for no adequately explained reason, but hey, it looks cool!

Meanwhile, Rumina appears in the dunes, monologuing to a very large lizard that just conveniently happens to wander by. The reason why Rumina keeps losing, FYI, is because she likes to “have a little fun first” instead of outright destroying Our Heroes when she has the opportunity. Based on events that follow, I honestly wonder if this is an unconscious pretense to hide the fact that she enjoys their company and doesn’t know how to interact with them any other way except as an antagonist (think: bratty younger sibling with MAGICAL POWERS. Oy.)

Maeve finds a random hand on the ground and realizes all is not well, but we never find out any more about this, so it feels kinda random in retrospect, though it seems urgent at the time.

Rumina zaps Maeve from a distance and knocks her off the horse, which we never see again. Maeve probably gets a concussion from this, something to keep in mind when judging her behavior for the rest of the episode. Rumina does this great fist pump to celebrate.

Meanwhile, everybody else is waiting for lunch to cook. It’s a fish roasting on a spit (no, really, look). Firouz is a technological genius, but cooking is not his strong suit. Even Rongar, who canonically has no problem eating food that Sinbad rejects, won’t touch this.

Meanwhile, the giant crab from Episode 8 shows up for no obvious reason, but Maeve doesn’t recognize it because she was tied up in a cave with an even worse CGI monster at the time. Happily, this is what fireballs are for.

Sinbad sees the giant explosion, and knows instinctively that Maeve is in trouble. They find her collapsed on the beach, and when they get her on her fet, she begins to stagger and mutter about how the island is evil and they need to leave.

But before they can make any decisions, a whirlwind shows up and Sinbad is genre-savvy enough to know this isn’t good and Rumina is involved. Maeve wants to stand her ground and fight, but Sinbad orders a retreat. Maeve doesn’t like this, so Sinbad has to pull rank on her - he’s captain - though he softens it a bit by adding he’s her friend as well.

So everybody runs inland. They stumble across a grove full of stones and statues scavenged from Episode 4, which is fronted by a stone tablet with a mysterious script that Maeve conveniently knows how to read. According to the stone, the grove belongs to the Old Ones and outside magic has no power there. Sounds like a great place to confront a sorceress, right? Maeve doesn’t think so, but she is overruled.

Sinbad then asks Maeve to throw a fireball at Rumina, and everyone is surprised when it doesn’t work and Firouz of all people thinks their situation is totally hopeless. Rumina’s whirlwind stops long enough to read the stone - apparently, it’s a magical thing? - and her magic stops working, too, once she enters and SHE is surprised. Oy.

Interestingly, the whirlwind is actually Rumina, spinning, as you can see when she enters the grove and sputters to a stop.

Maeve wants to settle their score the old-fashioned way: with swords. I’d like to point out here that Maeve probably could have run her through before anyone on the crew could stop her, and didn’t take the opportunity, and I’m not 100% sure why here.

Rumina is not pleased by the idea of life without magic:

Mysterious hooded figures show up and everyone is confused on how to respond. Rumina hides behind Sinbad, correctly assuming her is the only one who might actually defend her in a fight. Eventually, everyone retreats and squabbles, until they stumble across this guy, who thinks they are the best comedy series EVER:

He says his name is Reynard, and he’s a caretaker for the Old Ones, who are sort of like Titans, and dead-but-not-really-dead. Oh, and out to kill them all for trespassing in horrific ways. Maeve’s never heard of them, and neither has Rumina, who tries to pull rank on Maeve. Reynard’s not impressed by Rumina or the mention mention of her father, Turok: “He couldn’t be all that great [if he’s dead].” You can see Rumina pause and look very thoughtful.

Sinbad’s not so keen on death, obviously, and starts making plans and giving orders. He makes some assumptions about magic based on his experiences in previous episodes. Rumina calls him out for them, and is not pleased when he throws “the City of Mists” back in her face.

Poor Rumina. This is really not shaping up how she planned, and it’s only going to get worse.

Sinbad decides to split up the party into pairs. Firouz and Rongar obviously go together, and Maeve and Rumina can’t be trusted together, so Sinbad goes with Rumina and Maeve with Doubar.

Sinbad commandeers Rongar’s sword for Rumina - I really wish people would stop taking Rongar’s weapons off him! - and Rongar does not look pleased at the idea of giving Rumina a weapon. Nobody but Sinbad thinks this a good idea, really.

But even Sinbad can’t stand being with Rumina, so they split up too - although there’s some mumbo-jumbo about fruit trees and wild game that I don’t believe for a moment. I mean, really, Sinbad.

This is a terrible idea, because Sinbad immediately stumbles into... footage from Episode 3!

Meanwhile, Rumina stumbles across an older mirror version of herself with a serious attitude:

Old!Rumina is sassy and sarcastic and I love her. I don’t think she’s ugly, but Rumina is not amused. “See what a lifetime of hatred produces?” Old!Rumina asks rhetorically. She lays down the situation in an epic speech:

“Look at me, dear! Solitary. Unloved. Hated by all. I wake up every morning with a taste of business in my mouth. I spent a lifetime seeking vengeance. Accumulating power. To cut myself off from people, that I could care for, and who might care for me. Now I face death…alone.”

There’s a lot more psychology, and Rumina runs away screaming. Reynard, watching from the shadows, thinks this is hilarious. Rumina stumbles across Sinbad who wakes up from his dream(?) of drowning and they both pretend (badly) that nothing has happened.

Meanwhile, Rongar gets attacked by the wind warriors from Episode 10. Ouch.

There’s a lot of knife throwing, but when the warriors abruptly vanish, he finds his dirks stuck in the rocks. Weird, right?

Meanwhile, Firouz encounters a cord with the sign, “It is Forbidden to Touch,” has a moment of ‘logical deduction’ straight out of The Princess Bride, and tugs it. Surprise!

...and immediately catches fire. Ouch. Can’t say you weren’t warned!

Rongar has to rescue him, at which point it is revealed the flames were entirely illusory. “Fascinating,” says Firouz. “I’ve always been afraid of fire.”

Note that the cord is real and remains present after the flames have vanished. I expected Firouz to pull it again to se what happens - the mark of a true scientist! - but instead they just wander off. Too bad.

Meanwhile, Maeve and Doubar split up, and Doubar encounters someone he’s not pleased to see: Fortasa, a serial killer Doubar killed in Baghdad a decade earlier.

Meanwhile, Maeve encounters Rumina, and they start fighting.... but it’s really Doubar!

Sinbad, coming to the rescue of the two people he loves most in he world, vaults over Doubar and tackles him just as Doubar is strangling Maeve. Firouz restrains Maeve, but only because Maeve already had one concussion today and Doubar just gave her another one.

Rumina thinks they should question Reynard which everyone reluctantly agrees is a good idea. The Old Ones show up, and Reynard suggests that Maeve and Sinbad fight them. They do, until Firouz notices something odd:

The “Old Ones” are actually mirror versions of the crew! Reynard won’t stop laughing - and then Dermott swoops in and attacks!

Seriously, I’ve been waiting for so long for Dermott to remember he’s actually an aerial assassin and not a messenger boy with wings! Talk about a waste of potential!

When Dermott eases off, Reynard.... looks different.

Maeve recognizes him: “Coyote!”

Rumina recognizes him: “Ishu!”

I call bull on Maeve, because there is no way a Celt or anybody in that entire hemisphere would know a North American name, at least not in any time period this show might reasonably be assumed to take place in. “Reynard,” maybe, but not Coyote. Anyway, he goes by a lot of names, and he’s a Trickster by trade. Maeve’s got him figured out: “He’s part god, part mortal, and all trouble!”

So, to sum it up, the whole thing was just the Trickster playing around. There are no Old Ones and magic works just fine. “But you were so frightened of what they might do, that you imagined the worst. You all thought of what you feared and hated the most. Your deepest, darkest nightmares. You were all so scared, that even the witches lost their powers, all on their own. You know, you could have fought me with your magic. You’ve had it all along. You just frightened yourselves out of using it.”

I can kinda buy that, given that

He should have seen what was coming next: the ONE thing Maeve and Rumina can agree on.

Reynard flees, leaving Maeve and Rumina with no obstacles to settling their score... until Rumina vanishes. But she gives Rongar his sword back first, which is good.

Okay, she claims she’s going to be the one to choose the time and place, but she said that at the beginning of the episode, too... which I guess means that it only counts for Rumina if she’s guaranteed a win because Maeve’s not expecting an attack out of nowhere. Figures. As we know, Rumina doesn’t play by the rules.

Of course, Maeve still has no idea that Rumina is the one who knocked her off the horse to begin with. I think if she had, she would have been more proactive in stabbing her when she had the opportunity.

Maeve is upset about Reynard using their fears against them. “Sometimes, it’s the only way to make it through life. Just to face your fears, and move on,” Sinbad says only somewhat patronizingly, having confronted his childhood angst already in “The Bully”. Maeve is also upset about Rumina getting away. “I’m very worried about what happens when you run into her next,” Sinbad says diplomatically.

It’s been canonically shown that magical power is directly related to confidence and one’s psychological state, so I will buy that Maeve and Rumina psyched themselves out of using magic. Sinbad being afraid of drowning/Rumina makes sense, given his back story. Doubar’s greatest fear is the resurrection of somebody he killed already. Rumina is afraid of growing old and being alone. It’s unclear to me why Rongar is afraid of/hates the Wind Warriors - seems kinda random. Wouldn’t he hate the people who cut out his tongue more? Likewise, Firouz’s fear of fire is a little odd for a man who delights in explosions - and that pull rope was definitely real! So I am not sure I believe Reynard - a liar by nature - that it was ALL the crew’s doing. I think he helped quite a bit, reflecting what he thought would freak them out the most.

Also, were the crab and the random hand also Reynard’s doing, or Rumina’s, or what? I’m so confused how that relates. Yes, it’s all cool, but some overall coherence would be nice, too...

Dermott is canonically shown to be able to see through illusions in “Conundrum,” so that makes sense, at least.

Mostly, I appreciate the insights into Rumina’s character, making her more than just a vampy villain. It’s clear that she was Daddy’s Little Girl, and Turok raised her with the idea that she was superior to everyone else, and other peoples’ needs and feelings were not important. Magic has enabled her to get her way nd get everything she wants on her own terms, and there’s some part of her that really is afraid that she’ll be ugly, old and alone that she’s fighting desperately to silence. Being without magic, and being around the crew, is actually a character-building experience for her.

There are so many interesting ways to go, and I’m pretty sure we will NOT get to it before the season ends. But that’s what fic is for, right?

#adventures of sinbad live action tv #episode commentary #sindbad 1x19 #rumina #unfortunate CGI reuse #trying to figure out how magic works in this universe #no reptiles were harmed in the making of this episode #fending off giant animals #character insights #maeve vs. rumina

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