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#now i know we would have to suspend a lot of disbelief
zwierzodudle · 1 year
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ive seen a couple of "tav meets astarion before the game and almost gets gotten by cazador" headcanons, but i havent seen a reverse of "astarion meets durge-tav before the game and barely avoids being destroyed in bhaal's name then spends years wondering if maybe that would have been a better end" headcanons
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BG3 Characters Safest Driver Headcanons
I've been thinking about that poll from months ago way too much, so I've pulled this from my drafts. In this essay, I will explain why Boo is the best driver. Astarion: Terrible. Absolutely terrible driver. He is doing his makeup with the visor down, looking at the mirror more than the road. Suspend your disbelief, he's driving in this universe. He can use mirrors. ♥ You have to grab the steering wheel, regularly. Without warning, the man twists around to find his purse in the back seat because he wants a different eyeliner than what he grabbed. You are on aux duty. He hates everything you've picked. 2/10, he lawyered his way into that license Gale: You would think he would be safe, but then you remember that Gale didn't pay attention in boring classes. And how hard could driving really be?? The man knows how to drive perfectly textbook. He also thinks he knows how to do it better than everyone else. He does not adapt well to poor drivers. The roads are full of poor drivers. He is yeling "Zipper!" at the merging traffic. You spend five minutes in the parking lot so he can find just the right song for the trip.
6/10, you will probably not die Halsin: The man drives slow, I'm sorry. He's fuel efficient as you can get with the windows down. He pulls over and stops traffic for ducks crossing the road, no matter what the current road conditions are. He stops to show you the new tree the neighbor got. He is a Yellowstone Park tourist. He wants to show you the world, one traffic-stopping mid-road parking job at a time. There is no music, we are listening to nature today. 4/10, you will be rear-ended with him and not the way most people want Jaheira: I stand by what I said last time: Jaheira reminds me of so many older women I know. She drives like she wants someone to start shit with her. She's so conditioned by having 5 kids fighting in the backseat at all times that every time she's behind the wheel she's having Vietnam-level flashbacks. Her blood is pumping in her ears. There is no road, there is only the red of her vision. She won't start the road rage incident directly, but by god, she will end it. (You tried to ask about music, but the look she gave you when asked killed the question.) 5/10, you make it to your destination intact. But at what cost? Your pants are a different color at the end of the trip than they were at the beginning. Karlach: Karlach is talking with her hands while she drives. She's fiddling with the radio constantly. You've blown four red lights. Three of them were the same red light because she took a wrong turn. She will not use GPS, she's got the vibe of where she's going. She was trying to show you something on her phone at the same time. It cannot wait. It was so good you have to see it right now. The tunes are so loud she hasn't heard the sirens behind her. 4/10, the tunes almost make up for it Lae'zel: You are helping her check her mirror distance before you get in the car. You are buckled in before the car even starts. You are not allowed to touch the light in the car if it is dark out. She was taught that it's illegal to have on at night and she takes that shit seriously. You are on blindspot-watching duty at all times. You're not allowed to have music on the in car, it is a distraction. 7/10, we are efficient, but we are miserable Minsc: Minsc cannot drive. Minsc was meant to drive today, but Minsc got into the wrong seat. We are all relieved. Jaheira trained him wrong on purpose and will kill you if you correct him. 0/10, don't even try. He will survive the accident, you will not. Minthara: Minthara, light of my life. She is gremlin cackling and riding bumpers the whole time. People are pulling off constantly to get away from her. You are white-knuckling in the passenger seat and are too afraid to let go of the bitch-bar. You pray her airbags are up to date because your life has not stopped flashing before your eyes since you got onto the road. We are exclusively listening to The Flight of the Valkyries. 7/10, it is shockingly efficient when no one else is on the road anymore
Shadowheart: I have been in many a 'Shadowhearts' car. The car is more of a problem than she is. She drives the type of car that makes people go, "You live like this?" She drives a manual. She was not trained to drive a manual. Almost every single dash light is on, the ones that aren't had their bulbs die out years ago. We don't know how old that trash is, but it lives here now. She has one of those cassette players that has to hook into your phone to come out the speakers. Good luck finding the right adaptor in the mess. 4/10, girl get your shit together Wyll: Wyll is the best driver, hands down...when he is alone. Like all things in his life, his greatest flaw is being too polite. He turns his whole fucking head to look at you when you talk because that is the polite thing to do. The road is secondary to how important your conversation and companionship are to him. And you can't not talk him! He's asking you genuine questions about your day because he's interested. You get to listen to whatever you want and he's totally down for it even if it's not normally his thing. He'll find something he likes about it. Alone: 100/10, he somehow makes everyone better drivers by just being on the road With you: 5/10, Wyll, please, look at the road. ;_;
Boo: My eyes are closed. It's better this way. We made it there in record time. I don't know how it happened. I don't need to know how it happened. ?/10, it's best if you don't think about it
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aquaquadrant · 9 months
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from eden, part IX (act II)
Word count: 15,401 Warnings: Self-deprecating thoughts (not really, Jimmy’s just a listener and doesn’t know it), strong language, internalized racism, past abuse/experimentation, dehumanization, self-hatred, kissing, mature implications (fade to black), voluntary decapitation Summary: The Double Lifers have successfully thwarted the invasion by Hels Tek, but not unscathed. Now that Tango’s been outed as Bravo’s doppelgänger, the remaining threads are starting to unravel, and Jimmy suddenly finds himself fighting to save Tango from his own inner demons. Can their love survive the fallout?
A/N: This chapter had to get split into two parts bc Tumblr sucks, here's a link to the first half if u missed it. Hope y'all enjoy, please reblog/comment if you do!
Also please don’t think too hard abt the technical portal/redstone junk. I’m throwin a lotta random terms and conditions out there in the hopes of creating a feasible explanation for how portal travel works, and how Hels differs from other worlds in that regard. It’s possible there are contradictions or other things that I didn’t fully think through, but these details aren’t really important. Just try to suspend ur disbelief. - Aqua
~*~
from eden, part IX (act II) - no tired sighs, no rolling eyes, no irony
~*~
“Right then. Uh, thank you all for coming on short notice.”
Grian’s tentative welcome is met with a chorus of rather subdued greetings from the Double Lifers. Everyone is gathered in a loose semicircle around spawn, standing in their respective soulbound pairs and groups. Jimmy would’ve preferred to have this conversation sitting down, inside somewhere, but Tango had insisted on spawn.
Only now does Jimmy realize that the open nature of the forest clearing at spawn is less enclosed than a room filled with fourteen people would feel, and he understands.
Tango hadn’t been very talkative on the way over. But every time he said something, it was with that same forced ‘Everything’s fine!’ kind of attitude. It’s really starting to frustrate Jimmy, making him want to grab Tango by the shoulders and shout, ‘No, actually, everything’s not fine, and that’s okay!’
But he doesn’t think that’d be well received at the moment.
Tango, standing beside Jimmy, is still maintaining his fake nonchalance. To an untrained observer, he’d actually look quite casual. Simply standing with his hands in his pockets, listening intently to Grian with a plain, but not unpleasant, expression. The only indication Jimmy has that he’s at all uncomfortable is the complete lack of movement.
He doesn’t fidget, doesn’t pace, doesn’t shift his weight- all things that might otherwise be taken as signs of anxiety, but are usually normal for Tango. The stillness, though subtle, is concerning. It means he’s tense and on-guard. As if expecting an attack at any second. Which, to be fair, Jimmy doesn’t blame him for. 
But more concerning is the fact that Tango can so easily and convincingly pretend that everything’s fine. He must’ve had a lot of practice.
(Ten years, remember?)
(Of course he’s a good liar.)
(Surprise, surprise.)
Grian clears his throat. “So, as we all know… there was an attack yesterday by some strange fellas who came in through a hacked portal of some sort. I’ve locked the world down for the moment, but until we know all the who’s, why’s, and how’s, I’m afraid that’s only a temporary solution… since I’m sure you all don’t wanna be stuck here forever.” 
He says it matter-of-factly, not a hint of any frustration, annoyance, or other ill-feeling in his voice. But Jimmy sees Tango’s face twitch anyway. Unsurprisingly, the guilt is getting to him.
“But that’s why we’re here,” Grian continues, taking a more upbeat tone. “Tango has kindly agreed to explain a little better what’s goin’ on, so hopefully, we can get to the bottom of this and uh… come up with a plan for moving forward.” He gestures invitingly towards Tango. “Tango?”
(Here we go…)
Tango clears his throat. “Right, yeah, thanks.” He takes a small step forward, casting a quick glance around the clearing. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I spawned in a world called Hels, where every player is sort of an evil counterpart to an overworld player elsewhere in the universe. At least, that’s what I’ve gathered from the Helsknight fiasco.”
Jimmy can actually see the sudden realization that settles over all the present Hermits- minus Pearl, who seems as out of the loop as the others.
Grian’s eyes widen. “Oh my gosh, that makes so much sense…”
“Oh, dudes,” Ren breathes, running a clawed hand through his hair. “Not gonna lie, I completely forgot about that…”
“Same here,” Impulse says, looking stunned. “I mean, it was over and done with so fast, and Wels didn’t seem worried, so I guess none of us really thought to look into it? Man…”
Scott puts a hand up. “Um, what’s tha’ Helsknight fiasco?” he asks, frowning.
“Oh, right.” Tango scratches the back of his head. “So, you guys know of Welsknight, right? One of our fellow hermits?” At the group’s hesitant nods, he continues, “On Hermitcraft’s seventh world, there was this player who randomly joined and attacked Wels. None of us ever saw him, but when Wels explained the situation later… he said Helsknight was some kinda evil clone, and that he came from a place called Hels.”
Murmurs of surprise and confusion ripple through the group. Jimmy longs to put a hand on Tango’s shoulder as a reassurance, but based on how tense he is, that’d probably set him off.
“Wait, really?” Pearl asks, her antennae curling in surprise. “What’re the chances of that?”
“I know,” Cleo agrees, “it was really strange, in hindsight…”
“So this Helsknight guy,” Joel says, knitting his brows together. “He’s what Bravo was talkin’ about, one of those Hels players? Like all the other people that came through the portal?”
“Yeah,” Martyn chimes in, “I- I noticed a lot of uh, ‘Hels’ in the names in chat. Or like, ones with ‘bad’ or ‘evil’ kinda vibes.”
“Yep.” Tango nods stiffly. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I don’t know Helsknight or- or how he joined Hermitcraft, but it was obvious he was Wels’s counterpart. I mean, he said he was ‘all the darkest parts’ of Wels, right?” He folds his arms. “Well, I’m that for Bravo. A sort of uh- a personification of his badness, I guess.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Bigb cuts in, holding his hands up. “So- so you’re sayin’ that we all have these… Hels versions of ourselves?”
“Evil doppelgängers, yeah,” Tango amends. “I mean, I don’t know why it’d only be for some players and not others, and Hels is plenty big enough for every player in the universe to have a counterpart. You go to any of the major cities around spawn, and it’ll definitely feel that way.”
“What’s this… Hels world like?” Pearl asks, her red eyes wide with a sort of morbid fascination.
Tango’s expression darkens. “It’s an ancient world, infinite and deadly. The overworld and nether are fused into one crazy, messed-up realm full of these weird hybrid kinda biomes, and- and you can’t access the end. The bedrock ceiling makes it so hostile mobs spawn basically everywhere, but you can’t find naturally spawning passive mobs for like, hundreds of thousands of blocks around spawn, ‘cause the early players murdered them all. And no portal travel in or out- at least, that’s what we thought.”
Jimmy’s starting to see why Bravo described Hels as ‘an inescapable prison of horrific violence and suffering.’ 
Grian raises his eyebrows. “No end?”
“No portals?” Bdubs echoes disbelievingly.
Etho, who’s been listening with rapt attention, tilts his head. “That Bravo guy, he mentioned something about my, uh… my doppelgänger?”
Tango shrugs. “He must’ve met them at some point in the last ten years, yeah. I- I dunno, I never did.” He pauses, creasing his brows as he glances around the circle again. “Actually, I don’t think I ever met any of your guys’s Hels. Or, if I did, I don’t remember.”
That makes Jimmy frown. “What do you mean?”
Tango gives Jimmy a sidelong look. “I uh, I wasn’t really that social for most of my time there, I spent my childhood being a general menace- most kids do, actually. There’s no infrastructure to look after kids, we- they’re basically on their own. So you can imagine it’s- it’s an interesting world to grow up in.” Idly, he kicks at a clump of grass. “Bunch’a little monsters runnin’ around unsupervised, causing chaos, trying not to get brutally killed by hostile mobs and players, it was great.”
Horror seizes Jimmy. “That’s awful.”
“That’s just how it was,” Tango says bluntly. “I mean, try setting something like that up without an admin, right? See how that goes.”
“Wait, Hels doesn’t have an admin?” Grian repeats.
“Nope. At least, not when I was there.” Tango shrugs. “They hadn’t for a long time before I even spawned, so- so the whole place was basically anarchy, every player for themself.”
Aghast, Scar shakes his head. “What in the world…”
“How long did you spend living like that?” Impulse asks softly, his eyes sad.
Tango’s avoiding everyone’s eyes now, staring off somewhere into the middle distance. “Oh, probably ‘til I was like… fifteen or sixteen? Somewhere in the teen stage? That’s when I met Atlas.” A bitter smile splits across his face. “He told me he was recruiting for his redstone company, Hels Tek, and- and of course he threw in lots of cheap flattery, blah blah blah, and in my young, naive stupidity, I fell hook, line, and sinker. Turns out all he wanted me for was a blaze farm.”
There’s a brief silence.
“What?” Jimmy asks, confused. Is that what Atlas had meant about a farm design? Did they just want to force Tango to make farms for them? He knows Tango’s a bit of an innovator in that regard, but that’s an awful lot of trouble to go through for something that could easily be done by someone else.
“He… wanted you to build a blaze farm?” Impulse asks slowly, brows knitting together.
Tango laughs; a sharp, dry exhale. “No, no. Not to build one. To be one.” He reaches a hand up to tap one of the blaze rods hovering around his head. “I uh, I dunno if you guys have noticed, but these things here aren’t just for show. They’re real, functional blaze rods, and they just so happen to be respawnable.”
Jimmy’s stomach drops.
Oh.
(There we go, now they’ve got it.)
(Makes sense, right?)
(Honestly, it’s so obvious…)
The clearing is deathly silent now. All Jimmy can hear is his own heartbeat pounding in his ears. Everything is clicking into place, all the strange things he’s seen and heard suddenly making perfect, horrible sense.
They used Tango as a blaze farm. An actual sentient player, reduced to nothing more than a simple mob. A player with complex thoughts and feelings, with creative ideas and passions, with hopes and fears and dreams. They locked him up like an animal to use for profit- and even now, ten years later, he still can’t fully escape from it.
Jimmy has a sinking feeling he knows what Tango’s nightmares are about.
Tango keeps talking. “They didn’t start with that, of course.” There’s a bored sort of quality to his voice, like he’s merely commentating on the weather. “There was this uhh awkward phase where I thought I was helping with redstone experiments, when actually I was the test subject.”
It’s kind of surreal, actually. To be standing here and talking about this so casually. It’s like Jimmy’s having a nightmare he can’t wake up from.
“And once I caught on, well, they uh- they didn’t exactly have to play nice anymore,” Tango laughs. “That’s where I got these fabulous accessories.” He waves a hand, cuff jangling around his wrist.
Jimmy feels sick. They put the cuffs on Tango to lock him in a farm. To think he’s still had those on him, all this time-
“After that,” Tango continues briskly, “it still took, like, another year of testing for them to develop the most optimized farm.” He delivers the information almost disinterestedly, studying his claws. “It was a pretty smart design, nice and compact.”
Jimmy glances around the clearing. Amidst the shocked, horrified faces, he finds Impulse- who seems to be focused on taking slow, deep breaths, his hands curled into fists at his sides.
(Uh oh, no Impulse to the rescue…)
“Wither roses dealt constant damage,” Tango rattles off, “triggering my blaze rods to respawn as quickly as they could be skadoodled away by hoppers, and they had regen on an automatic clock to keep me alive- though there was a backup respawn anchor for any accidents.”
Wither roses. Of course. Jimmy can picture it, in his mind’s eye; Tango chained up among the ashen flowers. What must it have felt like, to be withering all the time? His health constantly wavering between the icy blackness and the regeneration, every minute of every day. How absolutely miserable.
Jimmy somehow finds his voice again. “How… how long did you spend like that?” he asks hoarsely, stepping next to Tango.
Tango won’t look at him- though he’s carefully watching out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, I dunno… four or five months, maybe?” 
Months. Jimmy’s heart aches. He can’t even begin to imagine what that existence was like. To spend all day trapped in a farm that’s constantly hurting him- and by wither effect, no less. Not to mention how dehumanizing the entire concept is on its own.
“How’d you get out?” Jimmy asks tentatively. “If- if you don’t mind.”
Tango snorts. “Yeah, so, one day, the charge on my anchor ran out when no one was around, so I was able to kill myself to get back to world spawn. And that’s when the portal to Hermitcraft appeared.”
Etho steps forward. “I thought Hels didn’t allow portals?” he asks, his voice as cool and unreadable as his partially-concealed expression.
Jimmy’s taken aback, his feathers puffing up unwittingly. He doesn’t understand how Etho can grill Tango about technical details in such an upsetting situation. In fact, he’d almost think that Etho doesn’t care at all- except the question makes Tango pause. In his expression, Jimmy can see his mind working, and realizes what Etho has done.
By circling back to a scientific topic, he’s provided Tango a distraction. Something less personal for his mind to focus on, and take everyone else’s focus off of him. Already, Jimmy can see that Tango’s less tense as he starts to explain.
“We didn’t have portals in Hels, but we knew the concept from data-mining.” Tango spreads his hands. “Locked comm commands, hidden recipes. But portals to Hermitcraft are made by the universe, right? So- so whatever is preventing Hels players from making portals, it- the universe can circumvent it. ‘Course, at the time, I didn’t know how it appeared or where it was gonna take me, but I went through. And apparently, somehow, a portal appeared in front of Bravo that took him to Hels at the same time. The universe must’ve tried to send Bravo to Hermitcraft, glitched ‘cause of Hels’s wonky portal technology, and swapped us by mistake.”
Etho hums noncommittally. “So it was an accident.”
(Oh, sure.)
(That’s what they think…)
(Yeah, he ‘accidentally’ didn’t tell anyone the truth for ten years.)
Jimmy angrily pushes the thoughts away. So long as Tango didn’t intend to strand Bravo in Hels, that’s all that matters to him.
Tango gives Etho a funny look. “I mean, that’s not the point? Bravo’s been trapped in Hels ever since, ‘cause of me. This whole invasion thing was my fault, they were tryin’ to get me back for the farm and help Bravo escape Hels, and... I dunno, get back to his life? Or, the life I stole from him ten years ago.” He shrugs. “So yeah. Secret’s out, sorry I’ve been lying to some of you for a decade, now, and- and sorry you all got dragged into my mess. I didn’t mean t- well, anyway, that’s- that’s what happened.”
“God, Tango,” Jimmy breathes, reaching a hand out, “I- I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry?” Tango asks incredulously, jerking away from Jimmy. “Wh- for what? That’s just what Hels is like, okay, if it wasn’t the farm it’d have been some other terrible thing, so y’know, it’s- it’s whatever.” He lets out another harsh laugh, raking his claws through his hair. “If anything, I’m the one who should be sorry, I mean, I- I’ve been lyin’ for ten years and-”
“They put you in a farm?!”
Everyone jumps. Impulse’s voice is suddenly several octaves lower, quite a bit louder, and warped with distortion into something truly demonic. His pupils have eaten up the rest of his eyes, turning them solid black. The teeth bared in a scowl look bigger and sharper than they used to, and the hands at his sides have sprouted claws. His horns and tail have grown longer, too, and Jimmy can see what looks like dark, leathery wings sprouting up behind him. His entire body is outlined by a bright golden glow, like his skin has abruptly become as hot as lava, and the absolute fury in his expression burns even fiercer.
Ah. This must be ‘full demon’ mode.
Bdubs quickly jumps in front of Impulse, grabbing him by the shoulders to ground him. Jimmy instinctively steps in front of Tango, wings snapping out to shield him from view.
But the damage is already done. Jimmy hears footsteps, and by the time he looks over his shoulder, Tango is gone.
“Tango, wait!” Jimmy turns to follow him, but a hand suddenly grabs his arm.
Martyn is there. “Don’t chase him,” he says lowly, “he’ll only panic more.”
Jimmy wants to argue, but the severity in Martyn’s solitary eye sobers him. “Alright,” he relents, folding his wings. “I… guess I’ll give him a few minutes to calm down…”
“Right, then.” Martyn gives a short nod, putting his hands on his hips. “Wasn’t expecting that.”
“Tell me about it,” Jimmy mutters, gazing back over the clearing.
Impulse is starting to settle back down, Bdubs in front speaking to him in low tones while Etho and Joel each hang onto an arm. It looks like his extra demon-y features are reverting back to his usual state, though he still looks furious.
Grian is sitting against a tree, wings splayed out around him. He’s massaging his temples like he’s warding off a headache, his eyes squeezed shut, groaning, “How did I not see this coming?” while Scar, crouched beside him, rubs his back soothingly.
Ren is pacing back and forth across the clearing. “I should’a killed more of those guys,” he growls, tail lashing, ears pinned flat against his skull.
“Hey, you did all you could,” Bigb says comfortingly. “I was the one that got us killed. If I’d kept my shield up, he wouldn’t have gotten that shot on me.”
“I wish we’d realized that Atlas guy was in charge,” Martyn laments, crossing over to them. “If we’d stopped him from leaving, we could’a gotten a lot more information.”
“I wish we’d known Tango was dealing with all this,” Cleo says bitterly, her crossed arms resting on her knees, Scott leaned against their side. “I mean, honestly… ten years and we never knew? That’s- that’s- that’s rubbish. We’re rubbish friends.”
“Hey, hey now,” Jimmy says, lifting his voice to address the group, “this wasn’t anyone’s fault, okay? You guys have been great friends to Tango- otherwise, he wouldn’t have stuck around for so long, right? It’s- it’s just his way, to try and deal with things on his own without askin’ for help. You know that.”
Cleo exhales slowly. “Yeah, I know. Still sucks.”
“Yeah.” Jimmy glances over at Impulse, who seems to have recovered himself back to normal, sitting cross-legged next to Bdubs. “You alright, Impulse?”
Impulse gives a slight nod, expression guilty. “I’m sorry. I- I almost never lose control like that, I just got so angry… not at Tango!” he quickly clarifies. “Never at him. I- I just… thinking about what they did to him, everything he went through…”
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Bdubs murmurs, squeezing Impulse’s hand. “That’s- it’s freaking crazy, right? With th- hyaugh, evil Hels world, puttin’ people in uh, in farms… sheesh.”
“Yeah, it’s alright,” Jimmy assures him. “I know you didn’t mean anythin’ by it. I’m sure Tango does, too, he was just so on-guard the whole time… he just got spooked, that’s all.”
“Jimmy,” Pearl says urgently, fluttering over to him while tailed by her small pack of wolves, “d’you know- uh, is- is everythin’ Tango said true?” she asks, concerned.
Jimmy swallows. “It’s true. I mean, I- I didn’t know about the farm specifically, but based on what I overheard Atlas say- it makes sense.” He rubs the back of his neck. “And gosh, I didn’t know how awful Hels was, but the way Bravo talked about it…”
“But, um…” Bdubs pipes up hesitantly. “Just- just ‘cause Tango is Bravo’s… uh, Hels… doppelgänger, whatever… doesn’t mean he’s evil, right?”
“I know!” Jimmy cries, throwing his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell him! He doesn’t believe it. He thinks he’s a monster for what he did, killin’ those guys and burnin’ down the ranch.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Martyn scoffs. He’s coaxed a still-seething Ren to lay down now, absentmindedly stroking Ren’s ears as his head rests in Martyn’s lap while Bigb starts to braid his hair. “It was self-defense, yeah? A bunch of strangers invaded your home, and he defended it. There’s nothin’ wrong with that.”
Jimmy has a feeling it’s more to do with how Tango killed them and how the fire got started, plus the fact that Jimmy got hurt in the process. But Tango didn’t share those particular details, so Jimmy’s not about to now. Besides, in his opinion, that doesn’t change anything.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he says ruefully. “But he still blames himself for what happened. For all of it.”
“Well, that’s stupid,” Cleo deadpans. Then she pauses. “Or- sorry, his feelings aren’t stupid, but I- I hope he knows that none of us feel that way.”
There are exclamations of agreement and similar sentiments from the rest of the group, which helps ease some of the tightness in Jimmy’s chest. He knows his friends, and knows they’re all good people who wouldn’t judge Tango like that, but it’s been hard not to let Bravo’s words get to him.
“I’ll tell him,” Jimmy promises them. “I’ll try to make him understand, he just- I think he’s always been afraid this day would come, that he’s just been tickin’ down borrowed time.”
“What d’you mean?” Grian asks, rising to his feet. “It’s not like he knew they were coming, right?”
Jimmy shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. It’s more like… he’s always had that possibility hanging over him.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” Impulse says quietly. “The first time he saw a communicator portal open, you would’ve thought he was being sent to his death. It… makes sense, looking back now.” He puts his head in his hands, sighing. “Man, there were so many signs…”
Grian walks over, pulling his communicator out. “So hang on, the world itself is called Hels, yeah?”
“Yeah, why?” Jimmy asks.
Grian doesn’t respond, silently scanning his comm with his brows knit in concentration. And then something very strange happens. For a moment, it almost seems as if Grian’s eyes flash purple, and Jimmy hears his voice in his head.
(There it is. Hm, firewalled. Gonna be tricky.)
Then Grian pushes his glasses back up, and it passes.
“Right,” he says briskly, putting his comm away. “I can’t find the world, so the portal thing checks out. But since Tango’s cut this meeting a bit short, do you have any other information? Anything the Hels guys might’ve said or done that we should know about?”
Jimmy blinks. Grian’s just looking at him expectantly, giving no indication that there’s anything out of sorts. Jeeze, he’s used to having random thoughts, but the stress of everything must really be getting to him if he’s imagining his friend’s voices, now.
“Um, actually,” Jimmy says, “the collar they put on Tango… he said it’s using some sort of… modified wither rose to dampen his fire? It’s uh, also dampening our soulbond.” He clears his throat, glancing away. “As a- as a fun little side effect.”
“Have you tried removing it yet?” Etho asks, stepping around Impulse with his hands in his pockets.
“I did, earlier,” Impulse chimes in from the ground. “Just with my hands, but uh, he acted like it was hurting him.”
Jimmy nods. “Yeah, Atlas locked it on him with a key, and I’m pretty sure he still had it when he left. So I think that might be the way to get it off.”
“Well,” Joel cuts in, straightening up from where he’d been leaning over Impulse’s shoulder, “surely not the only way, right? I mean, you could always…” He makes a noncommittal noise, and draws a finger across his neck.
Jimmy bristles, wings flaring out. “What, decapitate my soulmate?!”
Joel holds up his hands. “Hey, hey, we don’t know if that thing’ll respawn on him!”
“His cuffs do!” Jimmy points out.
“Yeah, but isn’t it worth a shot?” Joel counters.
“I… I guess,” Jimmy relents, letting his feathers smooth back down. “But I’d rather look into a few other options before jumpin’ straight to decapitation, if you don’t mind. Tango’s been through enough as it is.”
Joel backs off. “Alright, fair enough.” 
“Okay…” Grian turns to address the rest of the group. “Well, um… this has been an interesting revelation, to say the least. I think we’re gonna have to do a bit more research to figure out how they got here before we just… open the world back up. So that means we’ll all be stuck here a bit longer, is that- is that okay with everyone?”
“Yes, yes of course,” Bdubs says vehemently.
“Yeah,” Impulse agrees, “whatever it takes.”
Further murmurs of assent ring out from among the group. Everywhere Jimmy looks, he sees faces full of sympathy and understanding, not a single trace of resentment or annoyance to be found. God, he loves his friends.
“Thanks, guys, I appreciate it,” he says gratefully. “I’m gonna go check on Tango, but we’ll keep you updated if anythin’ changes.”
“Right, okay then.” Grian claps his hands together. “Uh- I guess that’s all for now?”
Nodding, Jimmy turns and takes to the sky, leaving spawn behind him.
His mind is still reeling from all the heavy revelations, his stomach twisted up into knots, but he’s at least comforted by knowing that his friends are behind them. Seems that the fears Bravo tried to instill were completely unfounded, nothing more than vicious, desperate attempts to sow division between Tango and the others. Jimmy really shouldn’t have doubted them.
(That went… surprisingly well.)
(Give it time.)
‘Oh, shove off,’ Jimmy thinks.
~*~
He finds Tango back at the spare room in Impulse and Bdubs’s house.
Thank goodness for that. He hadn’t exactly been sure if Tango would consider this a safe place to go. But with the ranch destroyed and the world on lockdown, it’s not like he has a lot of options.
Tango’s sitting on the bed with his back to Jimmy. At a glance, he seems relaxed, but his legs are curled under him in a way that’d allow him to spring up in an instant. And the way his pointed ears swivel back toward Jimmy tells him Tango is quite alert.
(So deceiving…)
“Hey, Tango,” Jimmy says softly. “You alright?”
“Oh, hey.” Tango doesn’t turn around just yet, shrugging a shoulder. “Sure, yeah.”
Jimmy lingers by the bed for a moment, uncertain. “Um, Impulse didn’t mean to lose his temper like that,” he offers. “He wasn’t mad at you, he was mad at the situation, that’s all.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just, in the moment- I- I- thought…” Tango sighs. “Anyway. So- so I guess I should head out, huh?”
Jimmy’s stomach drops. “What? What’re you sayin’?”
“It’s over, right?” Tango asks, his voice tight, shoulders hunched by his ears. “They don’t want me around, and I don’t blame ‘em. I mean, once Grian opens the world again, it’s only a matter of time before another portal from Hels opens up. And- and who’d want to go through all that again, right? So don’t worry, I get it, it was my fault, so-”
“No, Tango, I promise- none of them blame you, alright?” Jimmy sits down on the bed- not too close. “None of them believe what Bravo was sayin’ about you. None of them think you’re some… some evil monster that deserves to be locked up in Hels.”
Tango finally turns around. His body is coiled with all the tension of a drawn arrow. “That’s ‘cause they didn’t see me- what I did- back at the ranch,” he says sharply. “They don’t know the whole story.”
Jimmy rubs the back of his neck, exhaling slowly. He knew Tango would hold that against himself. “Well, I do, and I-”
“No, you don’t.”
Jimmy blinks. “Wh- oh, you mean the Helsknight thing?” he asks, furrowing his brows. “Look, honestly, based on what you told Bravo, I don’t blame you for doing that. You were just scared you’d get sent back, that doesn’t make you evil. I know you-”
“No, you don’t,” Tango says again, more intently. “You don’t know everything about me, Jimmy.”
Jimmy’s stomach drops. “Wha’d’you mean?”
Tango smiles without humor, a hard look in his eye. “You wanna know why I like making those- those crazy mob farms? Why I try to kill them in creative, fun ways?” He tilts his head. “Because I like it. I like to make their deaths entertaining. I’ll even sacrifice efficiency for it, I’ll go out of my way to do it. And I- it doesn’t stop there, I’ll kill passive mobs for no reason. Cats, frogs, things that don’t even have drops, for absolutely no reason. That’s not normal.”
Despite himself, Jimmy feels a chill run down his spine. “That’s not… those are just mobs, it’s- it’s not evil…”
(Are you sure about that?)
Tango exhales sharply- a short, bitter laugh. “Okay. You know why practically all my mini games end in death? Huh? You wanna guess?”
Distress shoots through Jimmy. “Tango-”
“I like to watch players die, too,” Tango says. “And I like it to be entertaining. I enjoy it, that’s- that’s just plain sadistic.” He rakes his claws through his hair. “That’s what I am, I’m a- a sadistic monster, okay, I always have been.”
“Stop it, don’t say that!” Jimmy protests, his heart twisting. “You’re not- people actually sign up for those games, you know. And it’s not like death is permanent, it doesn’t matter-”
“So?” Tango interrupts harshly. He jumps off the bed and starts pacing. “What- does that make any difference? Doesn’t matter if people enjoy them, okay, my- my reason for making them is wrong. Designing games is fun, sure, but I- that’s never what it’s been about. I like to make players struggle, and suffer, and die in the end. I like to watch them experience pain and fear in a trap of my own creation. I like the feeling of control it gives me. No matter how you look at it, that’s- I- I’m messed up.”
Jimmy can’t take this anymore. He rises to his feet. “Tango, stop, that’s enough,” he says, his voice stern. “I know I haven’t known you very long, but-”
“Yeah,” Tango snaps, rounding on Jimmy, “you haven’t! That’s the whole problem! I’ve kept a huge chunk of my life secret from you, my own soulmate. I’ve kept it from the Hermits, too- my friends of nearly a decade. I’ve deceived and lied to everyone I ever cared about. I’ve pretended to be this- this benevolent game maker who just wants everyone to have a good time, I’ve kept so much of who I really am hidden ‘cause I knew that if you guys ever saw the real me, you’d hate me.”
Jimmy’s mind is reeling. Tango’s clever eye for game design is something Jimmy’s always loved about him, the way he could create fun challenges even amidst the throes of a death game. After all, the first time they really interacted was when Jimmy died to his ‘Dare to Flare’ challenge back on the Third Life world. And that had been a laughably simple game compared to some of the things he’s done on Hermitcraft.
Even though it ended up costing Jimmy a life, the rush of adrenaline had been thrilling. And even though in hindsight, he knew it was a deliberate ploy by Tango to thin out his competitor’s lives, Jimmy’s never resented him for it.
So to suddenly realize there might’ve been more to it… that Tango might’ve actually enjoyed watching him burn to death- beyond the simple satisfaction of having outsmarted his competition, of course- is… unsettling, to say the least.
(What a start to a relationship!)
(The red flags have been there from day one.)
(A sadist and a liar, lucky you.)
But nevertheless, Jimmy holds his ground. “I don’t hate you.”
Tango tenses. “You should.”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Jimmy insists. “I love you, Tango.”
“No, you don’t!” Tango snarls, and the hurt in his voice is raw and ragged and bleeding. His eyes are burning with rage, and Jimmy’s almost certain that if it weren’t for the collar, he’d be on fire right now. “Alright? Just shut up! You love this- this version of me that I’ve presented, okay, this lie I’ve been living. You love Tango the friendly redstoner, who makes ridiculous high-pitched noises when he’s flustered and who’s funny when he’s mad and who can’t fight his way out of a one-block hole. You don’t love the sadistic blaze hybrid that sets things on fire and- and rips people’s throats out with his fucking teeth, don’t be stupid!”
The silence that follows is deafening.
(And there it is!)
(Finally showing his true colors.)
(He did try to tell you…)
For a moment, Jimmy is too stunned to speak. Tango’s never yelled at him before, not seriously, and the sting of his words is almost a physical thing.
Tango seems just as shocked at his outburst as Jimmy is, his face paling as his anger quickly extinguishes. The next words out of Tango’s mouth are almost guaranteed to be an apology, but Jimmy isn’t letting him off that easily.
“Now hang on just a second,” Jimmy says lowly. “You don’t get to tell me how I feel about you. I’m a grown player. I’m not some poor, innocent idiot that you’ve manipulated into loving you, alright? And it hurts that you’d think so little of me, that I’d stand here and just lie about my feelings to you.”
(Ooh, someone finally grew a backbone-)
Jimmy silences the thought, violently forcing it out of his mind. He’s got no patience for that sort of thing right now.
“I’m sorry,” Tango whispers, “I didn’t-”
“And what’s more,” Jimmy continues, gaining steam, “do you really think I’m the type of person to judge someone so harshly for things outta their control? You honestly think I’m some- some shallow, heartless jerk who’d turn on you, just like that? Or- for that matter, you think the Hermits would? After ten years of friendship, you have that little faith in them?”
Tango’s eyes widen. “No, no it’s- it’s not like that,” he says quickly. “I didn’t mean-”
“I don’t care that you’re from Hels,” Jimmy presses, taking a step forward. “I don’t care what you did in the past, or that you kept it from me. I don’t care if some random guy thinks you’re just the manifestation of all his evil- frankly, I think that says more about him than it does about you.” He comes to a stop in front of Tango. “I love you. The teeth, the claws, the death fascination or- or whatever you wanna call it- I love all of it. All of you. And I wish more than anythin’ they hadn’t got that damn collar on you, so you could feel that love through our soulbond. But you’ve felt it before, right? Before I knew? Well um, it hasn’t changed, I promise you that.”
Tango stares back up at him. Now that the anger’s gone, he just looks scared. “You don’t-” His voice breaks. “You can’t.”
“Yes, I do,” Jimmy answers, unwavering. As difficult as this conversation has been, this part’s easy. “I promise, cross my heart.”
Tango shudders, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Please,” he whispers, “don’t… I can’t- if I let myself think that but you don’t mean it, I- I can’t handle that. Please. Just tell me now, okay, get it over with…”
Understanding settles over Jimmy. Creasing his brows, he takes a slow, deliberate step forward. “I mean it,” he says, lifting a hand to cup Tango’s cheek.
Tango trembles, but he doesn’t move away. He swallows, licks his lips. “Say it again?” he asks, almost a plea, his eyes darting to take in every inch of Jimmy’s face- like he’s unsure whether he can truly believe what he’s seeing, almost searching for any hint, any trace of doubt in Jimmy’s expression.
There isn’t any. Jimmy leans in. “I love you.”
Something glimmers in Tango’s eyes; a warm light Jimmy hasn’t seen since before the ranch burned. 
Something like hope.
Love rises inside Jimmy like a wave- love and the sorrow of shared grief, the fierce determination to withstand it, and the agony of all the past suffering he can’t take away. It’s overwhelming and exhilarating, this sudden rush of emotion. A whirling maelstrom that makes his head spin. But his love burns brightly through it all, a sole lantern against the storm.
Maybe he can’t make Tango believe he’s worthy of love. But he can give it anyway.
Jimmy moves slowly, tilting his face down towards Tango’s. He keeps his eyes open until the very last second, giving Tango plenty of time to move away or say something to stop him, to give any sign at all that he isn’t feeling the same.
There isn’t any. Their lips meet gently, like a familiar greeting. Like the way sunlight falls through the window every morning.
And just like that, the dam breaks. Suddenly Tango’s kissing him back, fervently, pushing against him. Jimmy’s legs hit the bed and buckle, sending him backwards, Tango falling on top of him. His hands cling to Jimmy’s shirt, twisting in the fabric, and his tears wet Jimmy’s face, salt on his tongue. Above the pounding of his heart in his ears, he can just make out the words Tango’s murmuring between kisses, breathless and desperate.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I love you.”
Jimmy pulls him impossibly closer, whispering, “I never doubted.”
They don’t need words after that.
~*~
“Jeeze, they weren’t kidding,” Tango mutters, taking in the ranch with wide eyes.
The ranch looks even worse than Jimmy had been imagining. Nearly the entire first floor is gone, just a wide-open plot and their lonely front door sitting ajar. Aside from the odd block here and there, it’s just empty. A couple trapdoors from the furniture in the living room. The smooth stone slabs that made up their kitchen countertops. An occasional unbroken glass pane floating where there used to be windows.
It’s not a home anymore, not by any stretch of the imagination.
Up the intact cobblestone staircase, the second floor has only fared slightly better. Some of the walls are still standing, charred and moth-eaten as they are. He thinks most of the bathroom’s interior was spared, as it was primarily made of different stone materials. Polished andesite and the like. The chests in their storage room made it, of course, even though the room itself didn’t. And their bedroom seems to have gotten the worst of it. From down here, he thinks it might just be the bed itself that’s left.
The roof is gone, leaving their cobblestone chimney awkwardly sticking up from the ground to nowhere. The path up to the house and the surrounding fields have been torn up to make a ditch. Necessary as it was, it’s quite the eyesore. And to top it all off, one of the custom trees that Scar helped build has been hastily chopped down, due to its proximity to the nearby forest. There’s just a couple of logs and solitary leaves left floating in the air.
It hurts. Everywhere Jimmy looks, there’s another source of heartache. Another precious memory that’s been turned to ash. It’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.
But he’s also aware of Tango standing beside him. He knows how much Tango is already beating himself up for the fire, and the last thing he wants to do is add to that guilt.
Jimmy turns to give Tango a rueful grin. “Talk about your fixer-uppers, ey?”
Tango exhales slowly. “Man, it’s so…” He glances at Jimmy, expression pinched. “I’m sorry, you worked so hard-”
“It’s fine,” Jimmy says, shrugging. “It’s just a building.”
Tango hesitates. “It’s… alright to be upset. This was our home, and I- I got all ‘rahhhrr angry-burny rage mode’ on it and-”
“Not your fault,” Jimmy says, voice gentle but firm. He puts a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “If anyone’s to blame, it’s the Hels fellas for attackin’ us in the first place.”
Tango makes a noncommittal noise, scuffing the upturned dirt with his boot. “Sure.”
It’s clear he’s not convinced, but Jimmy leaves it there for now. Their conversation from yesterday is going to take some time to fully sink in. He crosses over to a haphazardly-placed double chest near the front of the ranch and crouches beside it, lifting the lid with a creak.
“Martyn said everything they were able to save is in this chest here, let’s see…” He rummages through the chest’s inventory. A lot of it is random junk; miscellaneous blocks, half-stacks of wheat, dropped weapons and armor from the fight. But there are a few good finds, like some of the clothes from their closet, a couple of flower pots, one of his framed embroidery pieces...
“Oh, hey, look at this!” Jimmy calls excitedly. “My gloves!”
He pulls the gloves out, looking up from the chest to see Tango standing over him. His eyes widen when he sees them- happily surprised at first, and then the familiar dawning of guilt and regret.
“You uh… maybe I should take those back, for now,” Tango says quietly, his ears lowered. “Or- or maybe just forever, yeah.”
“Ey, stop it, no take-backs,” Jimmy chastises him, slipping the gloves on. “Gloves couldn’t have prevented that fire, anyways. And I like wearin’ ‘em, because that way it’s sorta like I’m holdin’ your hand all the time.”
A grin tugs at Tango’s mouth. “Aw, that’s real cheesy, honey,” he teases, even as a faint blush colors his cheeks.
“Yeah, but I mean it,” Jimmy says loftily. “I’m keepin’ them.”
Tango holds his hands up, chuckling. “Alright, alright…” His gaze travels back towards the ranch, up towards the storage room with its rows of chests. “Guess we should still have plenty of materials to rebuild, huh?”
“Should do, yeah,” Jimmy says, straightening up. Having the gloves back is an immediate comfort, despite the fact he’d only gone two days without them. He foldings his arms, gaze sweeping critically over the remains of the ranch. “I guess for now, we’ll just focus on the structure? Y’know, get the place liveable again and worry ‘bout the decor and landscapin’ later…”
“Oh, that’s what you think!”
The loud voice makes them both jump. Jimmy whirls around to see Bdubs- of course, because there’s absolutely no mistaking that voice.
“Bdubs!” Jimmy laughs, clutching his heart. “What- what’re you doin’ here?”
Bdubs puts his hands on his hips. “I- I can’t believe what I’m- ‘no interior decor’, yeah right! You’re not gonna get outta that very- so easy! I tell you!”
Tango snickers. Luckily Bdubs’s sudden appearance hasn’t seemed to cause more than a brief startle. “Oh, yeah? You gonna help out, then, shorty?” 
“Hey!” Bdubs barks incredulously- though it’s clear from his expression he’s not really upset. “I’m tryin’ t- augh, n’you- you stu- yes. Yes, yes, I’m here to help, of course. For goodness sakes. I- how kind, are I! Sweet, kind Bdubs…”
“And handsome, too,” Jimmy adds cheekily.
That makes Bdubs beam, puffing his chest out. “Yeahhh, c’mon baby!”
“Don’t encourage him,” Tango groans.
“Oh, stop it!” Bdubs huffs. “Anyway, Impulse would’ve come, of course, but he and Etho- the redstone guys, you know, uh, they’re havin’ a- a- little chat, little brainy-thing… brainstormin’ ‘bout the portal stuff with Grian. But never thy fear! I saw you guys head out and, in my eternal wiseness, have already called in the forcements!”
Jimmy exchanges an amused look with Tango. “Well, any help is appreciated,” he amends.
“Sure about that, Timmy?” calls Joel’s voice, as the man himself appears over the hill.
And he’s not alone. Cleo’s taller figure looms over him, Scott and Pearl walking on either side of her as a small pack of wolves weave between their legs. The trio is followed by Martyn, Bigb, and Ren- the latter seeming to have recovered his friendly disposition and wagging tail. Finally, Scar emerges from behind a tree to round out the group, calling out a cheerful, “Hello there!”
Joel comes to a stop next to Bdubs and claps him on the shoulder. “We figured you two could use the help, what with you not bein’ builders and all.” Cheeky man.
Jimmy snorts. “Gee, thanks,” he says sarcastically. But slights at their building skills aside, he’s actually quite touched.
Tango blinks. “You guys… all came to help out?” he asks, sounding amazed. 
“Of course!” Bdubs declares. “We ha- we help!”
Cleo shrugs, giving a hapless grin. “You know, I- I- I really don’t know… why Bdubs invited me? I’m not that great a builder. But I can supervise, I guess? And- and heckle. Always heckle.”
“And reach tha’ tall bits,” Scott offers, lightly elbowing her hip.
“And reach the tall bits,” Cleo laughs. “Right. Yes.”
“It’s the least we can do,” Martyn chimes in, slinging an arm around Bigb’s shoulders, “since that portal stuff is way over my head.”
Bdubs pulls a face. “Uh…” He speaks to Jimmy and Tango behind his hand, despite making no effort to lower his voice at all- for comedic effect. “Normally, I would’ve offered my perfect redstone prowess to uh, to help the other guys out with their little portal thing, you know, but eugh- I knew someone would have ta’ keep all these jokers in line.”
“Ah, of course,” Tango replies sagely.
“Well?” Bdubs turns expectantly to the others, throwing his arms up. “Get movin’ then! Sheesh! Stand around, waitin’ for- for no raisin…”
“Yes, my liege,” Cleo drawls, rolling their eyes.
Ren claps his big paws together. “Yeah, we’re burnin’ daylight, my dudes!”
Pearl’s fuzzy wings unfurl from beneath her red cloak. “Let’s see what we’re workin’ with!” she says excitedly, fluttering up to the storage room.
Just like that, the other Double Lifers descend on the husk of the ranch. Placing down temporary chests and crafting benches, sorting through the remaining resources, filling in the ditch with dirt. Multiple conversations start up immediately as everyone sets to a task, and the atmosphere is comfortable- even if a bit strange.
Jimmy can’t recall a time when this many of them have worked on a project together. Not on Third Life, not on Last Life, not here. Something like this just wouldn’t be possible during a death game. Large gatherings between different groups are always fraught with tension and uncertainty, by the fear of a trap or a backstab or a fight breaking out.
But it’s nice. Pearl is hovering above the second floor, working with Cleo to build the walls back up while Scott prepares some stairs and slabs for detailing. Scar and Bdubs are already bickering about how to do the landscaping while Joel grumbles at them, waist-deep in the ditch with Bigb and Martyn placing dirt. Ren’s started tearing down the damaged trees, clearing room for replanting, and Pearl’s wolves mill about, filling the air with curious sniffs and yips.
Tango’s watching the scene unfold with wide eyes, and it suddenly occurs to Jimmy that this is the most people Tango’s been around since the difficult conversation at spawn. Impulse was checking on them throughout the rest of the day, of course, and a few of the other players stopped by now and again, but not in big groups or anything.
Jimmy steps closer to Tango. “Is this okay?” he asks softly.
Tango looks at him in surprise. A smile spreads across his face, and he takes Jimmy’s hand. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Yeah, it is.”
Jimmy smiles back. “Then let’s get in there.”
~*~
Jimmy lets out a low whistle. “Dang, this looks even better than before!” he says, craning his head to look around the room.
After a full day of building and the gradual dispersal of the other Double Lifers, Jimmy and Tango are now seeing their new bedroom for the first time. They were around for the bulk of the structure building, but once it came time for the interior, Bdubs and Scar had insisted it be a surprise. Everything about it is perfect, from the custom furniture to the quilted wool rug to the fancy frame Scar built around their double-wide bed.
Tango clears his throat. “Maybe, uh- maybe we can just…” He kicks one of the beds with the toe of his boot. “... scooch this over a little…”
“Nope,” Jimmy declares, sweeping Tango off the floor and onto the bed. “Nice try, mate, but you’re stayin’ right here next to me.”
“Okay, okay, fine! I ju- don’t say I didn’t warn you!” Tango huffs, but he’s grinning as he says it.
~*~
“Alright, fellas,” Grian says, clapping his hands together, “here’s what we’ve got so far…”
Jimmy leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Tango is a little tense beside him- probably just nerves. But it could be worse. They’re gathered in the living room of Impulse and Bdubs’s house; Grian perched on the arm of the sectional across from Jimmy and Tango, Impulse and Etho sitting adjacent to them. The familiar setting and fairly limited company seems to have helped put Tango more at ease for what might end up being a tricky conversation.
“We’re... pretty sure we know how the Hels peeps got here,” Grian continues, “but there are a few things we need to clarify, first.” He glances at Etho, inclining his head. “Etho, you wanna explain?”
“Oh yeah, yeah.” Etho stands up. “Tango, may I see your comm, please? I uh, just need to look at it for a minute.”
Tango blinks. Anxiety flashes across his face for just a brief second before disappearing. “Oh. Uh, sure?” He pulls the item from his inventory, holding it out.
Etho takes the communicator. “So,” he begins, sitting back down, “you said that in Hels, players can’t make portals with their communicators, right?”
Tango gives a short nod. “That’s right. That comm isn’t the one I spawned with, they took that from me at Hels Tek. X made me a new one, after I got to Hermitcraft.” He gives a dry laugh. “I told him- I told him I lost it. Which, I mean, that’s- it’s technically not a lie, just... not the whole truth.”
Jimmy gives him a sympathetic look. He might no longer be worried that the others will reject him, but this still can’t be easy to talk about.
Etho studies the communicator, his mismatched eyes narrowed in concentration. “So after you got a new comm, you were able to use it to make portals?”
“Yeah,” Tango says, “it uh, it’s taken me to each Hermitcraft world and everything in between, no problem. Hubs, solo worlds, creative- you name it.”
Etho hums. “Can you use your comm to travel to Hels?”
“No.” Tango glances away. “I’ve looked for it, a few times. Never shows up.”
That brings a couple more questions to mind, but Jimmy files them away for later.
“Interesting.” Etho seems to be delving deep into the communicator’s hardware, typing rapidly. “So uh, the portal issue isn’t centered on players that spawn in Hels, just their communicators. And since overworld communicators can’t find Hels, there must be something about the world itself preventing it.”
Tango knits his brows together. “I suppose…?”
It’s at this point that Grian leans forward. “Have either of you heard about firewalls?” he asks.
Tango shakes his head, but Jimmy’s heart jolts. He has heard that word before; just the other day, when he thought he heard Grian’s voice in his head. But that’s not exactly something Jimmy wants to bring up right now. Or ever, maybe. His weird, random, intrusive thoughts don’t need to be anyone else’s problem.
“Um…” Jimmy pretends to think about it for a moment. “I think I’ve heard the term somewhere before, but I- I dunno what that actually means.”
“Right.” Grian spreads his hands. “So firewalls are a sort of added security measure that admins can use when making a new world. It’s like, an impenetrable barrier ‘round the world that makes it basically impossible for anyone unauthorized to join via portal.”
“Wait, really?” Tango asks, eyes widening. “What- why haven’t I heard about this? Do all worlds have these?”
Grian makes a noncommittal noise. “Well, firewalls are kinda outdated. Developments in server security and comm travel have basically rendered them obsolete. I mean, when’s the last time you heard of a private world being raided, besides ours?” He shrugs. “Plus, it’s a real tedious process to set one up, so they aren’t used often. Mostly for multiplayer worlds that are invite-only, if an admin is particularly concerned about hackers.”
Jimmy holds out a hand. “So wait, hang on, this- what’s this got to do with our situation?”
Impulse catches his eye. “If you try to join a firewalled world without permission, it doesn’t show up on your comm.”
“Oh,” Tango says, realization dawning in his expression. “You think Hels has a firewall?”
“It’s the only thing I can think of,” Grian says, nodding. “However, it’s a bit odd, ‘cause firewalls are usually just one-way… meaning that they keep players out, but they don’t stop players from leaving. So if that’s what’s goin’ on with Hels, it’s a firewall unlike any I’ve ever heard of- where it’s meant to keep players in, too. I’m not exactly sure if that’s why comms made in Hels can’t make portals, or if that’s due to something else entirely, but uh, that’s my best guess.”
Tango runs a hand through his hair. “That’s… I mean, this is the first I’ve heard of firewalls, but that doesn’t sound impossible…”
“So,” Jimmy speaks up hesitantly, “so how did the Hels Tek guys open a portal here?”
“How, indeed?” Etho repeats, finally looking up from Tango’s communicator. “Well, we know the portal was red, not purple. That’s like a comm portal, the way their light syncs up with the world they lead to. But uh, you know, the players coming through had items and armor on them, and they didn’t show up at world spawn. Their spawns didn’t reset, either, they uh- they kept spawning back on the other side. That makes me think this was actually a hacked nether portal, not a comm portal.”
Tango frowns. “Hang on, we- we didn’t have nether portals in Hels, either. I mean, how- there was no point, the nether and the overworld were combined into one realm.”
“Right.” Etho’s got that look in his eye- the glint of an idea about to take off. Jimmy’s seen it in Tango countless times. “You know how nether portals work?”
Tango coughs into his fist. “Oh, right, of course I know all the uh, super technical skadoodle bits, but- but maybe you should go over it.” He jerks his head towards Jimmy and Grian. “You know, for these uh, non-redstone people here.”
“Please do,” Jimmy chuckles.
Etho’s eyes crinkle upwards, like he’s smiling behind his mask. “Basically, they grab the coordinates they’re made on and translate it to nether coords, and vice versa. From what you’ve told me about Hels, being a fusion of the nether and overworld realms, a nether portal couldn’t work ‘cause it’d be like… giving it coords to a place it already is? It’d just crash and never ignite. But if you gave a nether portal frame coordinates to a different place… like, say, a different world…”
Even with Jimmy’s scarce knowledge of portals, it’s easy enough to catch Etho’s meaning.
“That’s crazy,” Tango protests. “How’d they- how could they possibly have gotten coordinates to Double Life?”
“I don’t think they did. I think they got coords to you.” Etho leans forward. “Think about it. The portal didn’t open at spawn, it opened down the hill from the ranch- where you were. I think that was intentional, considering you’re the whole reason they came.”
Jimmy’s mind is spinning. “But... how? And how’d you figure all this out?”
Etho shrugs a shoulder. “Uh, educated guess? Like, just kinda based on the things Bravo said, and what Tango’s told us about Hels and the players it spawns. But um, looking at his comm just now basically confirms it for me.”
“Wait, really?” Tango asks, surprised. “How?”
Etho tilts his head. “Communicators are pretty special items. They’re unique to the player they spawn with- even a replacement communicator like this one. It might not have the hard locks on it that prevent it from summoning portals, but it’s still unique to you. And based on its data, I can tell your player data is a little different. I think it has to do with you being from Hels.”
Tango hesitates. “Okay, and…?”
“If you and Bravo are really counterparts,” Etho says, “then I’d expect your data to be similar. Like, the same word in different languages, in a metaphorical sense. So if Bravo’s data was fed into a nether portal, it’d translate it to your data, and open a portal at your coords. Plus or minus a few blocks, probably.”
Jimmy knits his brows together. “So… you’re sayin’ they used Bravo to open a portal to Tango?” he surmises.
Etho nods. “I’d need Bravo’s comm or a look at his player data to confirm, but that’s my best guess, yeah.” He holds the communicator back out to Tango.
Tango stashes the communicator in his inventory. “So wait, what about- how does the firewall thing factor in, here?” he asks. “If it stops comm portals, wouldn’t it stop a nether portal, too?”
“Yes and no,” Grian answers. “A firewall works by constantly scanning for portals. If it finds one trying to form, it’ll crash it. If a nether portal was used to travel between different worlds, rather than two realms on the same world, a firewall would recognize it all the same.”
“But,” Etho continues, “if they somehow figured out how to stabilize the portal… like, by sending a constant stream of updates… it’d constantly reset the scanner of the firewall. Sort of like an update suppressor. That way, the uh, the firewall can never actually register the portal as a problem and shut it down. So that’d be one way they could keep a hacked nether portal open, even in the face of a firewall.”
Tango exhales slowly. “Okay…” he says, “and how do we stop them from doing that ever again?”
Impulse winces. “That, we’re not sure about. I mean, if Bravo wasn’t there for them to grab a signal from, I guess that’d stop them. However they built a portal, it probably needs his data to function.”
“Oh, well, great.” Tango throws his hands up. “No way he won’t help them again, he hates my guts. Only reason they haven’t come back yet is ‘cause Grian locked the world down, I- I guarantee it. But we can’t just all stay locked in here forever, you’ve all got lives and other worlds to get back to.”
Jimmy frowns, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “Tango, anyone who’s got a problem with you has a problem with all of us.”
“For sure,” Grian agrees.
“Besides,” Impulse says, shrugging, “not to toot our own horns or anything, but I think we handled ourselves just fine against them.”
“You mean Pearl’s wolves handled them,” Tango says flatly. “And you guys had the element of surprise. I guarantee the only reason they went down so easy is ’cause they weren’t expecting much resistance. They show up again, now knowing what they’re up against, and that’s- that’s gonna turn out a whole lot differently.” He crossed his arms. “I need to leave, before Grian opens the world back up.”
“And what, just wait for them to come after you?” Jimmy demands, his wings puffing up. “Absolutely not.”
Tango makes an unhappy noise in the back of his throat. “It’s- you understand it’s only a matter of time, right?” he stresses. “Maybe it won’t be right after Grian lifts the lockdown, okay, maybe it’ll be days, or weeks, or months. Either way, it’ll happen eventually, and when it does… whether it’s- if that happens here, or back on Hermitcraft, or the next Life world... the result will be the same. People I care about will get caught in the crossfire, I- I’m not lettin’ that happen again.”
Jimmy pauses, wings drooping. The distress in Tango’s voice is sobering. There’s no question that Tango cares fiercely about his friends, and the guilt for putting them in harm’s way must be staggering. But still, he insists, “We don’t mind stayin’ put-”
“For how long, though?” Tango asks pointedly. “I can’t ask you guys to stay here forever. Like, I- I can’t stress enough how obsessive Atlas is. He came for me after ten years, okay, he’s not gonna just give up or lose interest. There will always be the risk of them opening another portal to me, so long as Bravo is in Hels.”
“So what if Bravo wasn’t in Hels?” Impulse cuts in.
Tango gives him a confused look. “What do you mean?”
Impulse’s eyes are alight with excitement as he gains steam with his idea. “What if we went to Hels and got him out? That way, he’s not mad at you for being stuck there anymore, right, and Hels Tek can’t use him to make another portal.”
“What, you mean we open a portal to Hels?” Tango asks, raising his eyebrows. “I- I thought we already established that our comms can’t take us there, what- how are we supposed to get there?”
“The same way they got here,” Etho says. “We use your data to open a hacked nether portal to Bravo. Ahah.”
As intimidating as the prospect of encountering Hels Tek again is, Jimmy has to admit it’s probably the only solution. They can’t just ignore the problem and hope it goes away, not if it means Tango could get randomly attacked at any moment. And with all of the Double Lifers together, they stand a much better chance of succeeding.
“That’s a great idea!” Jimmy exclaims. “We grab him, shake Atlas down for the key to the collar while we’re at it, and get out. Problem solved.”
Tango doesn’t seem nearly as enthused. “No way. Absolutely no way. That’s- that’s way too dangerous, if you guys get stranded there- and Atlas is already looking for more hybrids to make farms with, he was about to take Jimmy for a feather farm!”
A brief silence follows this revelation.
Grian grimaces, ruffling his wings. “Oh, woof.”
“What?” Impulse asks, taken aback. “That’s why he had Jimmy chained up, too?”
Jimmy blinks. “Oh, is that what he meant?”
“What’d you th- you didn’t know?” Tango asks incredulously.
Jimmy holds his hands up. “Hey, hey, I didn’t spend much time thinkin’ about what he said to me!” he says sheepishly. “I was more concerned about you.”
Tango pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh. Oh, great. Well yeah, that’s what he wanted you for, to stick you in a feather farm skadoodler for all eternity.”
Jimmy swallows. No wonder Tango’s been so against the idea of them going against Hels Tek again. Death is no big deal- they’d simply respawn. Few injuries cause lasting damage. But being trapped in a farm like that, with no means to escape…
“Well,” he says, “that still doesn’t change my mind. You’re his number one target, okay, you can’t go without backup.”
“No,” Tango huffs. “Let me do it. I- I know Bravo shouldn’t just be left there forever, but that’s not your guys’ faults! It’s my life, my mistake, you guys shouldn’t be putting yourselves at risk like that-”
“Tango,” Jimmy interrupts, “we’re not gonna make a portal to Hels and just send you through alone-”
“Well, I’m not letting you guys come with me!” Tango shoots back. “Most of you guys are hybrids or monsters, too, and I’m not gonna risk Atlas turning you into farms.”
Grian clicks his tongue. “Ey, we wouldn’t let that happen.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy says, “and what’s the alternative? You just take off to some solo world until Hels Tek comes a’knockin’?”
Tango shrugs. “I mean, I’d be fine with that-”
“No,” Jimmy says firmly. “I’m not lettin’ that happen. This is our only option, to put this problem to bed forever, and we stand the best chance if we do it together. We have to take it.” He grabs Tango’s hand. “Please, Tango.”
Tango hesitates, staring at their intertwined hands.
Now more than ever, Jimmy desperately wishes that he had some sense of what Tango’s thinking- even just the slightest insight to his thoughts, the faintest impression of an emotion through their soulbond. Especially since he’s had his confidence in reading Tango so thoroughly shaken over the last week. It’s scary to consider that he might not know Tango nearly half as well as he should, that Tango can so effectively mask his true feelings even from him.
“... fine,” Tango says, after a small eternity. “Fine, okay, we- let’s plan an invasion to Hels, sure.”
Jimmy gasps. “Really?”
“But,” Tango says warningly, “we gotta go about this extremely carefully, alright? No willy-nilly ‘rushing in blindly without a plan’ nonsense. And- and once we’re there, if at any point I tell you guys to flee, you- you best be fleein’, got it? With extra flee. No stupid heroics of noble stupidness.”
It’s a chance. That’s better than nothing. “Yes, alright!” Jimmy cheers. “Thank you!”
(Yay, we’re going to Hels- said no one ever.)
(Do they know what they’re getting into?)
(Oh boy, here we go.)
Etho shrugs. “Whatever you say, Tango, you’re the uh, you’re the Hels expert, here.”
Impulse folds his arms. “That’s a dirty condition you kinda tacked on the end, there,” he mutters, “but I’ll accept it.”
“Alright then.” Tango gives a tired sigh, but the corners of his mouth are curling into a smile. “I- I guess we’re doin’ this. We’ve got some room in the basement at the ranch, we can build it there.”
“Excellent.” Grian grins. “Let’s build a portal to Hels, fellas.”
~*~
Jimmy’s startled awake by a shout.
Heart pounding, he squints into the dark room. As his eyes struggle to adjust in the scarce light, he can just barely make out Tango sitting upright in bed. His rapid, shallow breaths wheeze through clenched teeth, faint sparks emitting from his dim blaze rods as they try to ignite.
“Tango,” Jimmy whispers, sitting up, “you okay?”
Tango’s breathing hitches. Then he turns to collapse against Jimmy’s chest, clinging fiercely to his shirt. His entire body is trembling. “Nightmare,” he manages to get out.
Jimmy’s heart twists. He knew it was only a matter of time, but that doesn’t make it any easier to see. Gently, he wraps his arms around Tango, then his wings for good measure. “I got ya,” he murmurs. “I’m here.”
Tango tucks his face against Jimmy’s shoulder and falls silent. Maybe he’ll want to talk about it in the morning, maybe he won’t. But for now, Jimmy just holds him, and hopes that’s enough.
~*~
Jimmy stares at the redstone circuitry laid out before him. “I understand none of this.”
Though it’s only been a few days since they started work on the portal, they’ve already made a lot of progress. Impulse and Etho have been over basically around the clock, with Bdubs and Joel tagging along more often than not. They’ll watch the redstoners work until they get bored, and inevitably wander upstairs to bug Jimmy. Grian checks in on them every now and then, and the other Double Lifers have popped by for little visits, so it’s been a lot of activity at the ranch. Lots of people coming and going.
It’s strange, but not necessarily in a bad way. Almost like an actual pleasant community feeling. Neighbors helping neighbors and all that.
A dedicated digging session has left them with a bit more space in the basement, allowing them to section off a separate room from Tango’s sugar cane farm. They finished it with a stone floor and simple wooden walls at Bdubs’s insistence (he considered it unacceptable to just leave it all as freshly-dug dirt). An obsidian portal frame (complete with corners at Etho’s insistence) stands empty against the back wall, leaving abundant floor space for the redstone- of which there is plenty.
Redstone dust wires criss-cross through rows of repeaters and hopper lines. It’s all far beyond Jimmy’s capacity to understand, of course, but even Tango seems a bit baffled. He’s claimed many times that his understanding of redstone is surface-level at best, and that his real skill comes in applying the various components and systems in creative ways. But he’s at least been able to help with the construction, the actual placing of redstone components.
“Right,” Tango laughs, running a hand through his hair. “Let’s- lemme see if I’ve got this right…” He points at a long line of redstone dust. “Main circuit to the portal.”
Impulse nods. “Yep.” 
Tango steps gingerly around the redstone, gesturing towards a rather complex looking amalgamation of observers and comparators. “This nonsense over here will turn my skadoodle bits into a fireable signal.”
Etho, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets, chuckles. “Pretty much.”
“And this,” Tango waves at the hoppers, “will count out the final coords before they hop on the main bus line to the portal.”
Jimmy nods hesitantly. “Okay… okay, cool, so- so is it done, then?”
“Not quite,” Impulse says. “We need a player detector.”
Tango creases his brows together. “What, like a- like a pufferfish? A skulk sensor?”
“No, more like a- a whole separate system,” Etho explains. “It’s more than just registering your presence. We need something that can read your data, pick out your coordinates, and send them to the portal for translation to Bravo.”
Tango exhales slowly. “That… sounds pretty complicated.”
“Oh, it will be,” Impulse says, folding his arms. “I mean, just think about how much data each player contains, right, all the codes that dictate our behavior and biology… we don’t wanna overload this thing, so it’ll require some heavy-duty filtering.”
“Not only that,” Etho continues, “but uh, if that firewall thing turns out to be a problem, we’re gonna have to figure out a way to stabilize the portal, too. That’ll take some tinkering with different power sources til we find the exact right input to override the firewall’s checker.”
Jimmy winces; he’d been hoping for a quicker solution. It’s already been over a week since the invasion, and he knows Tango hates being stalled. The sooner they get this problem taken care of, the sooner they can stop worrying and get back to their normal lives. Jimmy himself doesn’t have anywhere else to be, but the other Double Lifers do. And even if they don’t mind the unexpected stay-cation, it definitely bothers Tango that their lives have been disrupted for his sake. Goodness knows he’s already got enough of a guilt complex.
But Tango simply gives a bemused smile. “Well, let’s get started, then.”
~*~
“Are we really sure we wanna do this?”
Jimmy winces at Tango’s tone. “I know, I know,” he says regretfully, “it wasn’t my favorite idea either. But if it can get that collar off’a you, we gotta try, right?”
Trying to remove the collar manually had resulted in a sharp, shooting pain through Tango’s neck at the slightest movement. Trying to remove it with redstone had proven unsuccessful- clearly, it was designed to be insulated against any outside signals. Trying to pick the lock had resulted in nothing but a lot of frustration. So that left them with their last resort.
They’ve moved outside, round the back of the ranch, to avoid getting blood stains all over their newly refurbished house. A random bed has been placed down to provide them with a quick and easy respawn, their items temporarily stowed in a chest. Impulse holds a Sharpness V sword, tail flicking as he watches them apprehensively.
“I’m only gonna do this if you’re okay with it,” he tells Tango seriously. “We can go back to the drawing board, come up with some other things to try…”
“No, no,” Tango shakes his head, “I don’t- you shouldn’t be wasting time on this, you’re already working pretty much nonstop on the portal.”
The frustration in his voice is evident. Impulse frowns. “I don’t mind…”
“Well, I do!” Tango says, crossing his arms and glancing away.
Jimmy exchanges a look with Impulse before putting a gentle hand on Tango’s shoulder. “I know there’s a chance it won’t work,” he starts quietly, “and we’ll have killed ourselves for nothin’. No one likes gettin’ their head cut off. But it’ll be over quick, we’ll respawn straight back here, and then at least we’ll know we tried everything.”
Tango makes a noncommittal noise. “Hey, I- I’m not afraid of a little decapitation, alright, I just… I feel kinda bad putting you through this, you know?” Guilt creeps into his expression. “It’s not your neck that the stupid thing is stuck on. You shouldn’t have to-”
“We’re in this together,” Jimmy tells him steadily. “So if you’re willin’ to try it, I’m happy to die along with ya.”
Tango manages a faint laugh. “Jeeze, honey, you- you don’t have to make it sound so dramatic. We aren’t on a three-life system anymore.”
Jimmy shrugs. “Well, that’s how I feel! Honestly, if there’s even a chance this’ll get that thing off’a you, I’m down.”
“Alright.” Tango takes a quick, steadying breath. “Okay, I wanna try.” He glances at Impulse. “Uh- commence the chop-ificating, then, I guess.”
Impulse nods; he’s keeping his expression and general demeanor calm, reassuring. “Okay, then. So here’s what I’m gonna do…” He carefully sets the edge of his blade along the rim of Tango’s collar, so that the metal is just barely touching skin, and then pinches the collar between the fingers of his other hand. “I’ll give it one quick, clean slice, and try to pull the collar off your body, okay?”
Tango tilts his chin up. “Okay,” he whispers. He’s nervous, now; every muscle in his body is rigid.
Jimmy reaches for his hand. “I’ll be right there with ya.”
Impulse tightens his grip on the sword. “Tango, gimme a countdown whenever you’re ready.”
“Alright.” Tango exhales shakily, closing his eyes. “Five... four... three... two...”
Jimmy closes his eyes and squeezes Tango’s hand.
“One.”
Pain slices across Jimmy’s neck- an intense, searing burn, like he’s swallowed a bucket of lava. There’s a rush of vertigo, the world spinning off-kilter around him. He’s instantly thrust into darkness, that all-consuming void with which he’s rather familiar.
And then it’s over. He’s back, sitting on the bed with Tango in a piled heap of limbs. 
Jimmy sucks in a breath. Now that everything’s stopped spinning, he can see that the collar is still around Tango’s neck.
“Oh, babe,” he murmurs, sweeping Tango into a hug. “I’m sorry.”
Tango’s laugh is muffled against his shoulder. “Worth a shot, right?”
Impulse, standing a few feet away and holding a bloody sword, looks dismayed. “No good,” he says as he walks over, putting the sword away. “Your body respawned before I could pull the collar off. But uh, that’s… not the only issue.”
That makes Tango look over. “What is it?”
“I caught a look at the inner face of it,” Impulse says, frowning, “the part that’s actually touching your skin? And, um… it looks like there’s a bunch of little… spikes on the inside of the collar?”
“Spikes?” Jimmy repeats, raising his eyebrows.
“Yeah, I don’t know how else to describe them?” Impulse rubs the back of his neck. “Um, they’re black in color, not super big... probably thinner than my pinky finger but not like, needles or anything…”
“Oh.” Tango blinks. “It’s the thorns. They’re wither rose thorns. That’s how it works.”
Jimmy’s heart jolts. “What?”
Tango spreads his hands. “When Atlas locked the collar, it must’ve caused a- a bunch of thorns to pop out and dig into my neck. But they aren’t- they don’t have the full strength of wither rose, so that’s why I’m not getting the full wither effect, and after a while, you know, they sorta- they numb the area, so I don’t feel them. But when we start yanking on the collar, it forces them deeper into my skin, so it hurts.”
“Oh... my gosh,” Jimmy breathes, aghast. “That’s- that’s horrible!”
The whole concept of the collar is already inhumane- to treat a fellow sentient player like a simple animal. But this? This is just plain evil. 
Impulse seems to be trying very hard not to get upset again. “Well, then,” he says, voice tight. “That rules out my next suggestion, which was to just go at it with a few sharp axes. I don’t wanna like, hammer those thorns deeper into your neck...” His expression turns thoughtful. “What if we try and get something sharp between your neck and the collar, slice off the thorns all the way around? Then we could-”
“No,” Tango interrupts. “Look, I- I appreciate the help, but if we tweak this thing the wrong way, it could probably jab an artery, or puncture my trachea, and then I’d respawn and be right back at square one again! No, I- I think we’re done.”
Impulse looks like he wants to argue, but Jimmy catches his gaze, giving him an imploring look. 
“Alright,” Impulse relents. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”
“Yeah,” Jimmy says, “we’ll get that collar off, I promise.”
“It’s fine.” Tango’s avoiding Jimmy’s eyes. “It... might not be the worst thing, you know, to have my fire locked down. Considering our fancy new house and all.”
Oh, they can’t have that. Jimmy puts a hand on his shoulder. “Tango,” he says seriously, “your fire is a part of you, and I’m not gonna rest til we’ve got it back.”
Tango sighs, but when he looks up, his eyes are fond. “I know.”
Impulse exhales slowly. “Do you... wanna try and get the cuffs off, then?” he offers.
“What?” Tango jolts. “Why? They aren’t hurtin’ anything.”
Impulse holds up his hands. “Hey, it’s okay, I just thought... if they’re from that terrible place, maybe you’d wanna get rid of ‘em?”
“And y’know,” Jimmy chimes in, “it’d be a lot easier for someone else to crack them off ya, couple good swings with an axe, maybe…”
“That won’t work,” Tango says stiffly. “They’ve been on me for so long now, been through so many respawns that if I’m not the one to remove them, it- they’ll just keep coming back.” 
Impulse inhales through his teeth, understanding dawning in his eyes. “Oh, man.”
“Are you sure?” Jimmy asks, his heart sinking. He isn’t overly familiar with the universal rules that determine what does and doesn’t respawn along with a player, but Tango seems pretty certain.
“Yeah. They’re basically part of my data now.”
“Oh.”
The unspoken question is glaringly obvious: ‘why haven’t you removed them yet, then?’ The cuffs seem just as well-made as the collar, but surely there’s a way to cut through them. At least, he should’ve been able to find a way sometime during the last ten years- even if he wasn’t comfortable asking any of the Hermits to help him.
But Jimmy can tell Tango’s already hit his limit for today. It’s a subject he’s always avoided discussing in the past, so they’ll just have to wait until he’s ready.
(Oh, gonna make that mistake again?)
‘Shut up,’ Jimmy thinks.
~*~
“Need some help, hun?”
“Ack!” Jimmy gives a start, accidentally yanking out the feather he’d been teasing. He whirls around. “Tango!”
Tango holds his hands up. “Sorry, sorry!”
“Jeeze,” Jimmy laughs, catching his breath, “I- I thought you guys were still working on the portal!”
“Well, yeah,” Tango says, closing the door behind him, “but Etho thinks we need a redstone ore block and we didn’t have any layin’ around, so he and Impulse went mining.” He crosses over to sit on the bed, curiously studying the feathers strewn about. “Doin’ some preening?”
“Um...” Jimmy ducks his head sheepishly. “Yeah, just- just the uh, burned ones... they’re startin’ to itch.”
Tango gives him a sad smile. “Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to hide it from me, I- I won’t get all weird mega guilt-trippy about it.”
Jimmy softens. “I just... I know you’ve been beating yourself up about it, that’s all.” He gazes at the burned feather in his hand. “It was an accident. I don’t blame you.”
“I know.” Tango runs a gentle hand over one of Jimmy’s wings. “Can… can I help?”
Jimmy smiles. “Sure.”
~*~ 
“Wait, are you serious?” Tango asks, eyes wide. “You think the portal’s ready to go? Right now?”
Grain nods. “Yeah, I do.”
Jimmy glances between them with raised eyebrows. They’d called Grian over for a little update on the current state of the portal project- now complete with the fancy player detector system that the redstoners have been painstakingly building over the past week. But once Etho explained that the final step was stabilization, Grian had dropped a bomb on them.
“I’ve uh… been doin’ some research,” Grian continues, “and I’m pretty sure that Hels has a firewall that’s just been sorta… inverted? It’s still a one-way barrier, it just stops players from making portals out rather than in. ‘Course, it’s still inaccessible by comm portal, but our little set-up here should circumvent that. Once we’ve gotten the portal to lock onto Bravo’s coords, there shouldn’t be anythin’ stopping it from forming.”
Etho scratches the side of his mask. “Well, if we don’t have to stabilize the portal, that’ll definitely simplify things,” he says. “We might actually have everything we need already.”
“Couldn’t hurt to fire it up,” Impulse agrees, glancing at Tango. “Just to give it a little test drive? If we do get a portal open, we can easily shut it down right after. We don’t have to actually go through it.”
Tango hesitates. “But wouldn’t Grian have to lift the lockdown?”
“Yeah, I will,” Grian amends. “But I’ve actually just finished settin’ up a firewall, so when I lift the lockdown, we’ll still be protected. We’ll be able to leave through any portal we want, but no one else can get in without bein’ on the whitelist.”
“Wait, really?” Tango looks surprised. “Why- did you let the others know? I- I’m sure they’ll wanna get back to their other worlds.”
“Ey, I only just finished it!” Grian defends. “I wanted to let you lot know first, so there wouldn’t be any panic or confusion if people started randomly leavin’ through portals. I’ll inform the others, but uh, I’m pretty sure they’ll wanna just stick around til we get this done. Especially if the portal’s ready to go. All that’ll be left to do is come up with our plan of attack, and we’ll need all hands on deck for the actual mission.”
“Yeah,” Impulse says easily, “Hermitcraft can wait.”
Tango chews his lip. “I… I guess we can try it,” he relents.
“Great!” Grian pulls his communicator out. “Gimme a second to lift the lockdown, okay…”
Jimmy turns to Tango, taking him by the hands. “Hey, is this alright?” he asks softly. “We don’t have to try it today if you don’t wanna.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright,” Tango assures him, squeezing his hands. “It’s just- it’s a bit sooner than I was expecting, you know? But this is good. I mean, if this works, then this whole business will finally be over.”
Jimmy’s eyes trace the collar around Tango’s neck. “Yeah. And not a moment too soon.”
Obviously they’ve still got a pretty significant task ahead of them. It’ll be no easy feat to storm Hels Tek, not if they’ve got as much muscle backing them up as they did for the invasion. Atlas is one slippery fella, and it might be hard to get Bravo to listen to them long enough to cooperate. But getting the portal in working order is another hurdle down, so they can shift gears towards the impending mission. And once that’s done, there’ll no longer be a threat hanging over them.
Suffice to say, Jimmy’s looking forward to getting back to his domestic bliss.
“Okay,” Grian says, glancing up, “lockdown is officially lifted. Go ahead.”
“Alright, Tango.” Etho pushes away from the wall. “Uh, just hop onto the redstone ore block whenever you’re ready, I guess? Everything should be in place.”
Tango exhales shakily, looking nervous, but he manages to give Jimmy a smile. “Here goes nothin’...”
Turning away, he steps onto the redstone ore block, which immediately lights up. It starts a sort of ripple effect along the dust that connects it to the rest of the redstone, triggering all kinds of ticking and flashing. It’s all Jimmy can do to follow the signal as it travels towards the portal frame-
Static fills the air, and the portal ignites. Swirling red light fills the frame.
“Oh, nice,” Grian breathes.
“Yes!” Impulse cheers. “We did it!”
“Okay, uh, Tango?” Etho nods at him. “Go ahead and step off the block, now.”
Tango doesn’t respond. He’s staring at the portal with an unreadable expression clouding his gaze, almost as if in a trance.
Jimmy quickly hurries to his side. “Tango,” he murmurs, gently shaking his arm, “come on.”
“Huh?” Tango jolts. “Oh, oh right, sorry!” 
He steps aside, and the portal remains lit. Impulse grins. “Alright, looks like we’re good,” he says, stooping over to hit a button next to the portal. A piston extends across the redstone line, and the portal extinguishes.
Jimmy lets out a breath of relief. An irrational part of him had been worried that Hels players would immediately start pouring through. “You okay?” he asks Tango quietly.
Tango nods. “Yeah, sorry,” he says with an apologetic smile. “I’m fine, it just… kinda hit me all at once.”
“Yeah,” Impulse says, “I definitely wasn’t expecting to have a working portal today, either. But hey, good job guys!”
“Yeah, nicely done, fellas,” Grian says, sounding pleased. He starts typing on his communicator. “I’m gonna let the others know we’ve got the portal workin’, and tomorrow… we’ll all meet to start planning our invasion of Hels. I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can come up with a solid plan to get Bravo, get that key from Atlas, and get out.”
Tango snorts. “Oh, sure. Easy peasy.”
“Don’t worry,” Jimmy says, putting a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “We won’t go through til we’re all good and ready, yeah?”
Tango’s expression softens. “Yeah.”
“Right.” Grian puts his communicator away. “Get some rest, everyone, and we’ll see you tomorrow. Details in chat.”
~*~
<Grian> portal done. meet @ impulse and bdubs tomorrow at noon for hels invasion plotting. all ideas welcome
<PearlescentMoon> Ooh :0 
<InTheLittleWood> wait seriously? already??
<Renthedog> YO amazing job on the portal guys! :D 
<BdoubleO100> oh THANKS A LOT for volunteering us to host GRIAN!!
<Grian> :P 
~*~
Later that night, in the dark quiet of their room, Tango rolls over to nestle his head beneath Jimmy’s chin, claws bunching up the fabric of his shirt.
“Thanks,” he murmurs.
Jimmy hums. “For what?”
“For… not givin’ up on me.”
“What’d’you mean?”
“I mean… you know, I- after everything I did, and- and everything I said…”
“I already told you, that doesn’t matter to me.”
“Yeah, I know. But when I realized the secret was out… that things were- that we couldn’t just go back to normal… I mean, I was convinced it was over. Everything, my- my new life, my freedom, my friends. Us. But you never gave up hope.”
“Of course. It’s been a long road here, alright, I- I’m not givin’ that up without a fight.”
Tango tilts his chin up to look at Jimmy, red eyes glowing in the dark, and leans in to meet his lips. They kiss slow and sweet. Warmth hums in Jimmy’s chest.
This hasn’t been an easy journey, and he knows there’s plenty more challenges still ahead. Even if the mission to Hels goes well and they achieve all that they want to, the experiences Tango’s been through won’t magically go away. It’ll take time. Healing isn’t linear. But with everything out in the open now and the support of their friends, Jimmy’s hopeful that Tango can start to unlearn his self-hatred. Jimmy will be there every step of the way.
All too soon, Tango pulls away. “We should get some rest,” he whispers, settling against Jimmy again.
“Yeah,” Jimmy sighs ruefully, draping a wing across Tango. “Gonna need all two of my brain cells at full strength.”
Tango huffs a soft laugh. “Love you, honey.”
Jimmy closes his eyes, smiling. “Love you, too.
~*~
Jimmy wakes up to a cold bed.
That immediately sets off alarm bells in his head, because since when has Tango gotten out of bed before him? Then he opens his eyes and realizes it’s still night; a faint crescent moon hangs in the starry sky visible through their window. Their room is dark and empty. Tango is nowhere to be seen.
The alarm bells become a siren.
No, no, no, no, no.
Jimmy springs out of bed, sparing a second only to grab his shoes off the floor before throwing the door open. His heart is in his throat as he flies down the stairs to the main level- all dark and empty- and hooks the corner to wrench open the basement door. 
Already he can see the chilling red glow from the portal cast across the wall, a shadow of bleeding light, and a million curses scream through his mind. His stomach feels like it’s knotted in on itself and his lungs are burning for air, he’s moving faster than what seems physically possible and yet not nearly fast enough as he crashes down the stairs and bursts into the portal room, mouth opening to cry out-
Just in time to watch Tango vanish into the red light.
~*~
Somewhere in Hels, a player walks through a portal.
Tango’s heartbeat pounds in his ears. He’s already started shaking- if it weren’t for the wither effect flowing from his collar, he’s certain his blaze rods would be igniting right now. It’s a bizarre mix of emotions. The scent of ash and the sight of netherrack are comforting, in a way. Familiar. But it’s also terrifying, because there’s no mistaking where he is.
(There’s a reason he doesn’t like hanging out in the nether.)
Fear threatens to swallow him. He pushes it down; he’s got a job to do.
Forcing a steadying breath through his clenched teeth, he takes in his surroundings, ears pricked cautiously. He’s definitely not at spawn- he’s at the border of a basalt delta, actually, fine gray particles fluttering through the air. Aside from the portal behind him, there’s not a structure in sight. No sounds save for the distant bubbling of lava and the distinctive slap of magma cubes.
Tango frowns, chewing his lip. The portal was supposed to take him to Bravo, so he must be around here somewhere. Why he’s not at Hels Tek, Tango isn’t sure. Maybe they’re out on an errand run? Either way, he ought to start looking around.
But first, he’s got to break the portal so no one can follow him. Everything he’d packed made it through with him, thankfully, so he equips his pickaxe and turns back to the portal-
Just in time for Jimmy to emerge, running straight into him.
The collision knocks Tango to the ground, pickaxe flying from his hand, his forehead stinging where it smacked against Jimmy’s chin. Blinking spots from his eyes, he pushes himself up on his elbows with a groan. Once his vision stops spinning, he locks eyes with Jimmy, who seems just as shocked as he is.
Both of them shout at exactly the same moment.
“What are you doing here?!”
~*~
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odoraful · 6 months
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𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐈𝐔𝐌 𝐩.𝟐
zayne finally meets with you again in his dreams, though he is unprepared to face the harsh truth
read part 1 content: dawnbreaker!zayne x reader; a direct continuation from zayne’s anecdote 'still in dark' (spoiler warning); 2.2k words; angst :( reading bgm ♫ It is The Nature of Dreams to End (Julia)
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It took a few seconds for Zayne’s brain to register that he should reply to you. 
Stop staring with your mouth agape. Say something. 
The words were lodged in his throat.
You fidgeted with your hair, eyes turned downwards. “Excuse my manners. I should stop addressing you incorrectly and ask for your name.”
Zayne cringed internally. A great start — he now gave the impression that he was deliberately ignoring you for your supposed impoliteness. 
“No, please, it's alright.” The sentence tumbled out of him. “My name is Zayne.” His arms remained glued at his sides. 
“It's the same as his… everything is the same,” you murmured, shaking your head in disbelief. Your brow was in a deep furrow, as if you someone had given you some incalculable equation to solve. He could tell that a million questions were flooding your thoughts right now. 
“If it’s any consolation,” he tried his best to give a reassuring smile, but he felt his lips tremble as he lifted the corners of his mouth, “I also have questions about how we’ve come to meet.”
You raised your head, finally meeting his gaze. In all his dreams with you, he'd never seen such worry on your face. He felt a crushing urge to take you in his arms, smooth a hand over your hair, whisper in your ear that he was here for you, that he was here to protect you. Instead, he squeezed his fists tight.
“Then, should we go somewhere more comfortable and have a talk?” You offered, turning around to face the pavilion suspended on the river. You lifted a hand to shade your eyes. “The sun is too bright to be standing outside.” 
Zayne nodded. It would be too embarrassing for him to say that the golden sunlight targeting you was likely a product of his own subconscious. Moving to your side, the two of you headed towards the bridge leading to the pavilion. As he walked, Zayne relaxed his fists, feeling the sting in his palm from his own digging fingernails.
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Your eyes went wide with alarm. “Humans that slowly transform into wanderers? That’s horrifying.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, goosebumps forming on your skin.
Sitting now on the bench that lined the inside of the pavilion, the two of you conversed about your respective worlds. With embarrassment, he mentioned how he dreamt about you since he was 12. You laughed at how shy he was getting, as he turned his head away from yours, not wanting you to see the break in his coolness. When you spoke, he acted as a dutiful listener, despite having already extensively researched the fabled Linkon City. It felt surreal to hear your experience first hand. It made him feel less crazy to hear everything he learned was true. 
“And are there hunters to help control this? To keep everyone safe?” You asked. 
Zayne inhaled a long breath. He looked out past your shoulder at the shimmering river. He turned solemn, his eyes unfocused. 
“I don’t know of anybody in my world who has an evol, as you’ve called it, besides me.” 
He felt no pride in owning this power. It was a burden he shouldered since he was a child. Yet, he understood the gravity of the responsibility forced upon him. If he abandoned this role, what would become of his world? The cards he were dealt gave him a singular purpose in life. 
That was until you entered his life. 
You remained silent, digesting the information he had given and what it implied. Zayne felt acutely aware of every one of his senses. The rhythm of his breaths, the weight of his hands clasped in his lap, the stiffness in his posture. 
“You save people’s lives.”  His eyes shifting back to you, Zayne unexpectedly saw a wistful look on your face. “It reminds me a lot of my Zayne.”
This should have been the part where you condemned him, like everyone else in his world. Called him a monster, a killer, nothing but a story to scare children into behaving well. If he wasn’t mistaken, the faint smile on your face was one of admiration. Never had he seen himself as heroic. Those few words you spoke made him crumple. He placed his head in his hands. Not only that, you said it reminded you of your Zayne. 
He heard the rustle of your dress beside him as you sat closer to him. Your legs almost flush against his. If he leaned barely a millimetre to his right, your arms would touch. 
“I want to know,” he started, finding his voice again. “In the past, you never realised I was someone else. What changed in that last dream?”
Humming in thought, you tapped a finger on your chin. “I’m not too sure about it myself.” You began to chuckle sheepishly.  “I do have a working theory, but I would need to…” Your sentence trailed off. Zayne stared at you, confused. You seemed to shrink under his gaze. 
“Is it alright if I…” Biting your lip, you fidgeted with your fingers. “Touch you?” 
What kind of theory is this? Zayne could never guess your next move. Freely speaking your mind, acting on your first instinct, these were traits so foreign to him. Your unpredictability was something he loved and feared.
“Of- of course,” he blurted out, less composed than he would’ve liked to show. He prayed his cheeks didn’t betray him by turning bright pink. Turning his body towards you, he rested his hands on his thighs, waiting for what you would do. 
You reached a hand and gently cupped his cheek. 
Unable to contain his reaction, Zayne let out a shuddering breath at the contact as he leaned in. The casual affection that was so natural for you to show completely overwhelmed him. As you leaned in, your eyes slowly examined him, moving up and down his face. All Zayne could do was yield under your attention. Despite no words being exchanged, he felt more vulnerable to you than ever before. 
He grasped your hand, holding it against his face. You felt so real. How could his mind conjure something so tangible? The shape of your knuckles, the creases on your fingers, all of it was warm and alive under his cool touch. He was certain that if he touched the underside of your wrist, he would feel your steady pulse. 
“Zayne.” Your voice was a hesitant whisper. “You’re hurting me…” 
Caught up in exhilaration, Zayne didn’t notice how tight his grip had become. Your fingers were being crushed together by his. He immediately released his hold, cursing inwardly at himself. What was he thinking? Your Zayne wouldn’t have done that. He wouldn’t have been so aggressive, so overly emotional. 
“I remember now.” Feeling your breath graze his skin as you spoke, he fought off the urge to shiver. “I started to notice that there was something about your gaze…” Your eyes softened with sympathy. “There’s no warmth to it.”
Your hand trailed down his cheek to his neck. “And when I touch you.” Tingles followed wherever your fingers went. “You tense up everytime.” Emphasising your point, your hand rested on his shoulder, forcing him to relax his muscles. “Almost like you’re scared of me, somehow.”
No, this wasn’t how it was meant to go. He had expected you to say something trivial — his appearance was slightly off, or he had just forgotten to say or do something that was an obvious tell. These were easy fixes for him.
Zayne screwed his eyes shut, defenceless against your pity.
After all these dreams living in snippets as this doctor, this perfect version of himself, he still couldn’t get it right. No matter how well he could copy, from watching all those medical show episodes or tasting as many desserts as his barren world could offer, there were fundamental things about himself he couldn’t change.  
“I-I don’t understand.” He said, strained. He felt like a child again, terrified of making the wrong move. “I thought I did everything right.”
“You did!” You exclaimed. Bringing your other hand to his other shoulder, you gently squeezed them. “You treat me so kindly whenever we met, but my Zayne is the one back in my world, in Linkon.”
Your hands withdrew from his shoulders. “And in any case, this-” You gestured around, “- is just a dream. I might not even remember this exact conversation when I wake up. I don’t think I’m even real in this-”
“Don’t say that.” He snapped. 
His voice seemed to reverberate around the garden. The severity of his tone silenced you instantly. 
Sitting still was too restricting for him now. He ran a hand through his hair, needing to move around. He stood up, nausea swirling at the pit of his stomach. Rubbing his eyes with the edges of his hands, he saw stars in the vision. 
To hell with composure.
“I’ve known you for so, so long.” It was difficult to speak when every word constricted his throat. “Do not tell me that you’re not real because then everything I’ve worked towards would be for nothing.” 
You cocked your head, confused. “Everything you’ve worked towards?”
Sparing himself the shame, he stayed quiet. He wouldn’t tell you how he spent his entire life in a fruitless endeavour to become the person you loved. It was a shattering realisation he arrived at. He was nothing but an imposter, a poor imitation. He could never be your Zayne. Desperation bubbled rapidly within him. The pressure reached a tipping point. 
“You told me before that you’d always stay by my side" His tone wavered, struggling to keep stable between his quickened breaths. "Don’t leave me, please.” He pleaded, face contorting with agony. This loss would be more painful than any Abomination strike to his heart.
Your eyes were downcast, shoulders slumped. “Of course I can meet with you again, but I don’t think I can stay with you forever.” You wrapped your arms around yourself. “I’m so, so sorry, Zayne. It- it just doesn’t feel right for some reason.”
The floor of the pavilion swayed under his feet. The tranquillity of the garden felt more like a mockery now than a solace. Why did you have to see through him? Could he have prevented this from happening? Seized by his own racing thoughts, he didn’t even detect you moving towards him. You encircled his waist with your arms and he crumpled into the hug instinctually. Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. Nobody would be there to comfort him when he woke up. He’d share his misery with only the birds that nested at his window in the mornings. So, he savoured the feeling of your hand rubbing his back soothingly, letting your warmth consume him.
”Perhaps there’s an equivalent version of me in your world.” He could just hear your voice over the thumping heartbeat in his ears. “If there’s me and my Zayne in Linkon, then shouldn’t there also be someone for you?”  
A version of you? He couldn’t begin to process what you were saying. No one could replace you, it was a ridiculous suggestion. How easily you would brush him aside like this.
He dared to look at your face once more. There was no contempt in your expression like he thought there would be. There was genuine care in your eyes. Of course, you were always the hopeful one. 
“It’s not too late for you to find out who you truly are, Zayne.”
That was the last thing he heard before he was abruptly pulled from you. 
Dreams seldom have satisfying endings to them — bouncing from one scene to the next, blurring beginning, middle, end, and finishing far too soon. And so, like the snapping of thread, he was flung back into the waking world. 
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When Zayne awoke from previous dreams, he’d always feel at peace. However, this time he jolted awake, gasping for air. Taking in deep breaths to steady himself, he saw the blankets had been kicked aside onto the floor. Sweat slicked the back of his shirt and beaded down the side of his head. 
Zayne sat up against the bed head, letting his head roll to the side to gaze out the window. The sun was just beginning to rise, the landscape outside diffused by pale blue light. A bird flew up to the sill, hopping curiously on the ledge. It then settled down, legs disappearing into its feathery body. 
He opened the drawer of his bedside table and wearily reached for his journal and pen. With a heavy heart, he scrawled down everything he could recall about the dream. Where he was, what you wore, what you said. The occasional lilting chirp from the bird cut through his pondering.
“Another version of me.”
Could there be someone like you in his world? Someone who would want to spend time with him? He’d never thought to talk to anyone else, he only ever needed you. 
He finished his final sentence, the writing almost unintelligible.
“Who you truly are.” 
When he wasn’t chasing down the person in his head, when he wasn’t trying to be someone else, who was he, truly? 
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a/n: thank you for reaching the end xx 🥹 you've hit the surprise author note! i'm putting it here this time cuz i didn't want to detract from the main story with all my yapping at the start! i thought the bgm had a title fitting for my interpretation of dawnbreaker zayne's arc, and it does have the appropriate melancholic vibe to it :') this was my first time writing something longer and angst-ier, so apologies if it reads awkwardly D: i will continue honing my writing! i wish you a lovely day or night <3
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Obey me idea: what if MC was turned into a sheep for anonymity’s sake? Say Diavolo realized that a lot of demons hate humans and have long memories so he turned MC into a sheep and gave them a fake name to protect them from retaliation after the exchange was over? And the brothers turn yandere for MC over the course of the exchange but they have no idea who they are? Then MC leaves (and prob didn’t leave a contact number cause they saw the red flags lol) and they freak out and try to find them again? It’s like a dark version of Cinderella, where the brothers try to clue together where they could find MC, and when they do… the reunion will be fantastic 😊 so what would the brothers reactions be in this case?
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Anonymous Sheep | Yandere Obey Me
Leaving it to Diavolo to make a conscious decision about your safety 
Never in a million years
But let's suspend our disbelief 
Let's say Diavolo actually had the forethought to put this in place for your protection against his favorite brothers
Ignoring the torture you ensued with your size, lack of hands, and your voice probably sounding weird
You’re mad grateful when it comes time to leave
Probably expressing your gratefulness when you start hanging out with him
He’s just so sad when you leave 
And even Barbatos is missing your presence in the castle 
So hey while the brothers are scrambling the internet and flying overhead in the human world to find some clue
Diavolo’s spending a lot more time in his new hotel
Hanging out with a specifically familiar human…
“Oh (Y/n)? No no, they're just…a friend…I made…who’s uh familiar with the human world…?”
Diavolo’s really bad with lying 
And eventually, Lucifer or Satan is picking up on the snake in the grass
“Hey…(Y/n) you ever heard about the devil dom?”
“What’s that?”
You best play dumb within an inch of your life
No nicknames, no laughing, nothing that gives you away
But the brothers are sly 
Satan or even Levi is slipping something into your food or trapping you in a perilous situation 
That forces you to admit your identity 
And when you do you are in trouble
“Ahhh~so, you thought you could run from us? With Diavolo no less? I’m sooo jealous!”
“Though we don’t have to be anymore now do we? Now that we found you we can take you back with us, right?”
“Yeah, not to mention we’ll get to discover this whole new side of you…the side you hid from us.” 
“Don’t pout, this is your fault for not giving us any way to contact you.”
“Yup! Speaking of do you have discord? Let me get it now! Or even better give me your password I’ll just see what you’ve got going on over here.”
“(Y/n), you're as light as you were before…I’ll have to make sure you eat more when we get home.”
The only one who can save you now is Diavolo or Barbatos
But Diavolo’s torn 
He loves being a part of the fun drama
What’s more fun than the siblings getting to know you more
“I’m interested to see what you guys think of the real (Y/n)! Haha, we’re already well acquainted. So I know everything…for the most part.”
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The season is kind of a blur for me at the moment, and I'm sure I'll have a lot more to talk about as I rewatch it more slowly and with less hysteria, but here are my current overall thoughts! Under the cut for spoilers
Beginning with the things I liked, because there were many of them:
The voice acting was phenomenal. Everything with Claudia? Soren's tirade at Viren? Every single speech of Janai's? Top tier. I've rarely been moved by a performance as much as I was this season
Additionally: the music was on another level, especially in the final episodes. It made already-breathtaking scenes absolutely haunting, and I'm praying they do another soundtrack release soon
I adored everything about the janaya wedding. Their outfits were so good, their expressions were so full of love, and their speeches were absolutely adorable. I also loved Kasi and Gren as officiants, Gren's little "what are they going to do? Come with an army?" joke made me cackle. (Also: hearing "and her wife, Queen Amaya" made me cheer so loudly my throat still hurts a day later)
I've been a passive sorvus shipper since season 4, but episode 2 ratcheted that up about ten levels. Every one of their interactions was so good, I love how they have the stoic/silly dynamic but also establish that Soren understands Corvus's sense of duty and Corvus has just as much of a ridiculous streak as Soren. They have to get together next season, please please please
Rayla and Callum! Back together at last!! And we have (hopefully) a full season of them being together to look forward to after this. It was really nice to see them fully on the same page at last, and the mix of ease and nervousness in their affection felt really cute and authentic
Speaking of things I've been waiting for forever: RUNAAN IS FINALLY FREE. I'm so happy that plotline was finally resolved, and I'm very intrigued about where he's going to go from here in regards to his relationships with Ethari, Rayla, and Callum. I really like that they addressed how he treated Rayla during their last encounter and established how deeply he regrets it
In general, I really liked how many loose ends we came back to this season. It was great to get the whole story of Viren, Lissa, Soren, and Kpp'Ar, especially for people who haven't read the comics or novelizations. I was thrilled to see Aanya again and loved her prowess in battle and her friendship with Ezran
I love that Claudia's hair actually looks like it got cut by a knife. No magically even cut for her. Somehow she really pulls it off, though, so good for her
Things I wasn't as much of a fan of:
I wish we had gotten to see Callum and Rayla actually talk the whole leaving-for-two-years thing out. Callum seems to think he was in the wrong for giving Rayla the cold shoulder when she first came back, but in my eyes he did have a right to be upset, and I wish they would acknowledge that. I was thrilled when they got back together, but I think it would have landed a little better for me if I felt like their "breakup" had been fully resolved
Has Sol Regem's mate ever been brought up before? It felt like a weird thing to pull up in the middle of the climax. His scene with Aaravos was written and presented very powerfully, but I didn't really feel the impact of it because I was busy going "where did this come from?"
And finally, this is really just a nitpick, but if you wear a blindfold for your entire life, you will not be able to suddenly see when you take it off because your brain doesn't know how to translate the shapes and light around you into cognitive images. I know I can suspend my disbelief, it just kind of bugged me
Overall, I was on the edge of my seat the entire time, and I think it was the most completely engrossed by a season so far. I'm begging and pleading for season 7 to be released sooner rather than later, because I need more and I need it now
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alexanderwales · 4 months
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Epistolary Novels and the Modern Age
"Epistolary" is one of those words that I always feel awkward about, because it's a rare word describing a rare thing, which means that I have to say "an epistolary novel, one composed mostly of letters between characters", but then I feel as though this might be redundant and insulting, like the person I'm talking to just wants me to get on with it, because of course they know what an epistolary novel is, and the fact that I have clarified it for them is insulting.
Anyway, I have a particular love of writing letters, and so have a particular love of epistolary novels. I think it would be great if they made a comeback.
We talk to people online, and they have a profile picture, and maybe the occasional photo that reveals their physical form, but text is mostly how you get to know them. You get to understand their grammar, the clusters of concepts they're drawn to, their affection for the em-dash and parentheticals of all kinds, the way they'll resurrect a conversation from days before, which shows that it was on their mind. You read the pauses in their discord messages for meaning. You somehow divine their tone from whether a sentence has a period or not.
And then there's something magical that happens if you meet them in person: you get to learn them all over again. Their mind is the same, that hasn't changed, but all the grammar is suddenly different. They talk with their hands, or have long pauses looking up at the ceiling while they think about things, or are quick with a joke in a way that you would not at all have expected. Maybe you had some sense that they were always stoically typing away at their computer with a cup of tea beside them when you read their responses, but in person they smile and nod a lot, grinning as they listen to whatever you're saying.
I think the thing that I've read that comes closest to interrogating this is @nostalgebraist's The Northen Caves, which holds a place in my heart for the way it talks about this weird divide, and the way it nails differences in how people talk online.
Of course I want to write an epistolary novel, and secondarily, a modern epistolary novel that's about email and discords and tumblr and whatever. I want to write All the Novels. It feels like there's something to say about how we relate to each other. But unlike a letter, which comes in and is read all at once, the online stuff is pervasive, and I don't think that a simple transcript would be enough — wouldn't catch all of the anxiety of waiting on the three little dots to resolve into words, or the feeling of typing something in and deleting it.
I'm at a convention right now, and have met a bunch of people whose stuff I've read, and people who have read my stuff, and sometimes, people I've interacted with online. Sometimes I know them well enough to know their textual quirks and tics, the energy that they bring to a blog post, and it's set my mind whirling with ideas about how I can harness this dissonance for novel-writing purposes. And sometimes it goes the other way, meeting a person at a campfire, wondering vaguely what their deal is, and then reading through a dozen of their most insightful blog posts, which give a very different view of who they are.
I don't know form either of these novels will take, whether the idea of people being different in different environments has something to say about anything. There's meat here though: I can smell it.
(There's a tumblr post going around about wet drip narrators who were only in novels of the 18th century because of a demand that there be a diegetic reason for the text to exist, and this is one of the reasons that epistolary novels saw a rise in readership — the letters exist, so it's easy for the reader to suspend their disbelief of how they could come to be holding this text.)
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skepsiss · 1 year
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Modern Problems, Modern Solutions pt 1
Pt2
I have like 4 other parts to this written already but I'll post em when I have time to edit. Yearning with extremely awkward teen Steddie. Eddie as a proper 17 year old would be awkward as hell! I think at least. Additionally, there is quite a bit of swearing so you've been warned. Generally, I just wanted to explore EDDIE catching feelings first and being put out by that.
Modern day AU, or more or less modern give or take 5ish years circa 2015/19. I don't think this takes place in the Hawkins we know from the show.
Small American towns can be kinda backwards, but it varies a lot as to how open and accepting each town/state is. So, suspend disbelief and imagine it as a place that is tolerant of queerness. Also, read with the understanding that in a lot of places in this generalized time people think queerness is actually kinda "trendy" in some ways. It's not taboo but it's also extremely dependant on the person that is queer and "how queer they act". "be gay... but not too gay" etc.--
---
"Did you hear? Steve Harrington just came out as bi--"
Eddie looked up from his phone, feet propped up on the desk in front of him. The boy who had popped his head into their mostly empty homeroom had delivered the news so quickly that everyone there was quietly shocked.
"Son of a bitch," Eddie grumbled, putting his feet down and getting clumps of dirt on the linoleum floor. School hadn't even started and he was already having to deal with this bullshit.
"What?" Gareth asked, laughing a bit awkwardly. He sounded confused like he didn't understand where Eddie was directing his vitriol.
"Leave it to some preppy, jock, rich-boy to make 'being gay' cool--asshole," Eddie's words were drenched in sarcasm and mockery, going as far as to air-quote when he said being gay.
"I've been fucking gay since 8th grade and now some 16-year-old wannabe happens to be queer it's big news?" Eddie sat back with frustration, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching in his seat.
"I don't think you're supposed to say queer--" Jeff started to correct only to shut up quickly when Eddie whipped his head around to him and glared.
"I can say whatever the hell I want. I'm the one that's queer!" Eddie spat, hating that so much of this 'being gay is okay' culture circled around the heterosexual perspective of what was and was not okay.
Eddie grouched for the rest of the day, keeping his head down and feeling his nostrils flare every time a whisper of today's big news passed by him in the hallways. Who fucking cared? Steve Harrington was thee popular boy in school and was talked about as if he was their generation's teen heart-throb. It was to a point where Eddie knew who he was despite him being an underclassman. He was in grade 12 and he still had to hear about Steve Harrington as if he mattered. Sports star, good-looking, daddy's boy.
It was so goddamn annoying. Eddie had been out since he was thirteen and he had suffered through the humiliation of 'being queer' all the way through high school. He had the scars to prove it and it pissed him off that four years later it felt like people were singing Steve's praises for being brave enough to come out. Who fucking cared? Being gay was cool now or something--it gave you an edge and despite the fact that Eddie was bi himself, it truly felt like bisexuality was a cop-out to get girls to think you were hot with no intention to do the whole gay part of it. That was unfair to think, but in his biased opinion, some popular boy didn't deserve to be treated delicately while he had been in the trenches over it.
Eddie glared as the school day ended as he walked outside into the Autumn air. He could see Steve across the parking lot chatting to a gaggle of people around his car. He was smiling and laughing and everyone seemed so eager to let him know they accepted him. Or whatever the fuck. He couldn't actually hear what they were saying.
"Does the torture of high school know no fucking end?" Eddie grumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets, not paying attention to where he was going.
"Tell me about it."
Eddie looked up at the sound of a voice; the words that were spoken dripped with sarcasm. Robin was leaning against her bike by Eddie, bag slung over her shoulder as she watched the fanfare from a safe distance--same as Eddie. Robin was president of the LGBT-Alliance club, and Eddie knew her from band. Robin was two years younger than him, but she had come in hot and loud about being a lesbian straight from jump. Despite how meek she was in many regards, she was smart and dedicated to her beliefs. Eddie could respect that.
"Get a load, huh?" Eddie asked, scoffing as he glanced back over at Steve.
"Hmm," Robin offered quietly, staring for a moment before starting to put on her helmet, "he's been coming to meetings pretty regularly over the last couple of months, you know."
Eddie looked back at Robin, surprised to hear her... defending Steve Harrington? He thought it was unanimous that geeks and weirdos like them hated guys like that.
"You'd know if you ever showed up for meetings," Robin said a bit flippantly, and Eddie frowned at her.
He had tried the whole LGBT-Alliance thing and it just wasn't his space. It was boring and he hated that the group generally just talked about events and progress they should make. He didn't want any of that, he just wanted to hang out with a couple of people that were queer like him. He didn't want to be scheduling and painting signs or whatever the fuck. He had his own things to do after school--band, D&D, chucking dirt wads at a wall--anything was better than sitting in what was essentially a business meeting.
"Come on," Eddie grumbled, not wanting to acknowledge that if Steve had been attending the LGBT-Alliance meetings that this 'leaving the closet thing' had been a long time coming.
"He's actually a decent guy," Robin defended as she adjusted her helmet straps, "all things considered."
Eddie huffed a laugh, scoffing at Robin.
"Didn't think I'd be hearing this from you, Buckley--I thought lesbians were supposed to hate all men or something," Eddie retorted, not really meaning it but feeling confrontational.
"Don't be a drag," Robin sighed, rolling her eyes at the comment, "talk to Will Byers about it or whatever. He's in your D&D thing, right?"
"Hellfire," Eddie corrected, thinking about that for a moment. Will was in both their clubs and he was close friends with Dustin--who also seemed to adore Steve Harrington for some reason. It was stupid, he didn't understand why half the kids in his after-school club liked the guy. Eddie had never had any personal conflict with Steve, but he fit the shape of every guy Eddie had ever taken issue with.
"Whatever," Robin retorted, getting onto her bike, "you know we're having a mixer next weekend. You should come."
Eddie looked at her, frowning again. He didn't want to go to a mixer, whatever she meant by that. Robin seemed to pick up on the mild confusion he had around the comment, explaining further.
"Geez, there's like posters around the school, Eddie. Our alliance and like 4 other schools in our district are having like an LGBT dance, mixer, party or whatever. Hosting in Talho on Saturday. We've got a pretty big turnout already, tickets are five bucks."
"Five bucks?" Eddie huffed, acting as if that number was ridiculous for an event like this. He didn't want to admit that it sounded kind of... nice. With four other school districts... that meant there would be a lot of guys that were undeniably queer he'd get to meet for the first time if he went. That was something. It'd really be something if he walked away with a date.
"I'll think about it," Eddie said, waving Robin off and continuing his slouch across the parking lot to start his long walk home.
—--
"Call me if you need a ride," Wayne said as Eddie shuffled out of the cab of the truck. He stood at the door, having to look up at Wayne in order to see him from how much the suspension of Wayne's old gas-guzzler hoisted the truck off the ground.
"Yeah, yeah," Eddie huffed, feeling put out already for having decided to come. He was having second thoughts as he stood there, holding Wayne's door.
"Eddie," Wayne said a bit more firmly, looking for a straight answer.
"I'll call if I need a ride home-- or whatever," Eddie replied, sounding annoyed as he shut the door and turned towards the school gym.
It was obvious where the event was being hosted and he felt weird showing up alone. He had decided to come after much lamenting, resigning himself to just chatting to Will all night if he hated the damn thing. It felt weird, and he quietly hoped that at least some people his age would show up. He didn't want to be stuck as the oldest person there amongst a sea of 14 and 15-year-olds.
The event wasn't formal, but Eddie had tried to clean up a bit. He'd left his leather jacket and vest at home, opting for just an old denim jacket and a T-shirt that didn't have a band or logo on it. Other than that, he was still in scuffed-up shoes and ripped jeans, but he hoped that didn't put people off. Not that it mattered. Not that he ultimately cared. He didn't want to talk to anyone who had a problem with it to begin with, but it still made him feel self-conscious. Really, he hadn't dressed up because he didn't have anything to dress up into. Even the debate of if this was worth five bucks or if he should save it in order to get the luxury of sub-par pizza next week had been a difficult choice to make. He hated showing up to things like this and sticking out like a sore thumb--he hated being easily marked as poor.
Eddie paid his entry fee and stepped into the gym; the decorations were tacky and everything screamed 'event put on by teenagers.' There was something kind of charming about that though, even if it felt a bit pedestrian. It was sort of as he feared though... there were people here--a decent amount--but everyone looked so... young. The realisation made Eddie tense a bit as he moved over to the refreshments table and idled before getting a drink.
Great. Just great. He had spent five bucks for an awkward night leaning against a wall and drinking fruit punch.
"Eddie!"
Eddie turned to see Robin waving at him. She had a vest with a button on it signifying that she was a leader in the club. She probably had responsibilities to attend to during the night, but she did look mildly excited to see him there.
Feeling like he didn't have much of an option, Eddie migrated in her direction, feeling very self-conscious about the whole thing.
"Hey, you made it," Robin offered, a few people hovering around her. It was sort of obvious that she was busy, but Eddie appreciated her taking the time to say hi.
"Yeah, figured I'd check it out at least," Eddie said, talking into his cup as he looked around the room. He didn't really have time to lament though as a small commotion worked its way towards them.
"Sorry--sorry!"
Eddie looked to see Steve Harrington making his way over to them with what looked like 4 dozen balloons. It was kind of comical really, seeing him try to fight past the sea of bobbing, colourful globes.
"Steve!" Robin said sharply, her volume subdued but still stern.
"Sorry--there was a hold-up--" Steve replied, awkwardly trying to move the balloons to see past them and talk directly to Robin.
"Oh—oh-How-what? A holdup?" Robin mocked back, tisking as she took a bundle of the balloons from Steve and handed them to the girls beside her.
"Uh, yeah, Buckley. There was a holdup, you gagging on ten-dollar lipstick or something?" Steve retorted quickly "looks good by the way." He was gesturing to the make-up Robin had on and the bright red lipstick she had applied which was fairly different compared to her usual look.
Eddie snorted into his cup, choking slightly as he tried to hold back from laughing at the burn. Robin looked offended for half a beat before smacking one of the balloons directly into Steve's face and taking the rest of the handful.
"Ow--hey," Steve complained, getting aggressively jostled as Robin walked past him.
Despite what was being said, the whole exchange had been... friendly. It was weird really, it looked and sounded like Robin and Steve were actually friends. They were toying with each other and being bitchy in a way Eddie had only ever seen best buddies do, which was really goddamn weird to see coming from a superstar, jock hunk, and the local raging feminist, band geek.
"You're on my shit-list," Robin commented, pointing over her shoulder at Steve and then bustling off with the other girls and the balloons. Obviously, they had been meant for decorations and Robin was now rushed to finish setting everything up. The whole exchange had been so quick Eddie hadn't even been able to properly react before he was standing there... with Steve.
Steve turned towards him and Eddie averted his gaze, still holding his punch glass up to his lips.
"Hey," Steve greeted, sounding much too charming.
"Hey," Eddie mumbled back, turning slightly and facing the room instead of looking at Steve. He didn't walk away, that felt like a bridge too far, but he wasn't going to open himself up to a conversation.
"Eddie, right?" Steve asked, and Eddie glanced at him, watching Steve push his hair back into place. He hadn't realised, but Steve was panting slightly, obviously catching his breath from... probably running in here to deliver Robin's balloons.
"Yeah," Eddie confirmed, looking away again as he slouched. Great. He was stuck talking to Steve with no obvious escape plan. Perfect.
"Steve--"
"I know who you are," Eddie replied, not letting Steve finish his introduction. It had probably just been to be polite anyway, but it was obvious that Eddie knew who he was. They went to school together. They had mutual friends. It wasn't rocket science.
That shut Steve up for a moment and chewed at Eddie's guts. That had been a bit rude. Steve hadn't actually done anything wrong, yet, so really he should just save it for another time. Steve was stuck here too after all, with a bunch of kids just like Eddie.
"Pretty... young," Eddie said, watching the gym as people mingled. It really was just a bunch of 14 or 15-year-olds chatting with one another. They seemed to be having fun, and Eddie was glad for that since he hadn't had anything like this when he was that age.
"Hm, yeah," Steve replied, sounding kind of amused for some reason. "Always the damn babysitter, huh?"
Eddie glanced at him for that comment, not really understanding where it was coming from.
"Yeah..." Eddie offered, wondering if he had said it because Hellfire Club also skewed younger. He had seen Steve drop Dustin off before, scolding him like a mother would over something, but he had never come inside to meet anyone at Hellfire. Eddie had just noticed it was all.
An awkward silence drew out between them and Eddie could tell that Steve was starting to feel uncomfortable too.
"You seen Will Byers anywhere?" Eddie asked, looking for an out. He knew that Steve knew Will, he was one of those mutual friends.
"Oh, yeah," Steve offered, not making a motion to point anywhere, "but I'd leave him alone tonight if I were you."
Eddie quirked a brow at Steve, something of a challenge in his stance as he looked at him. Why on earth would he leave Will Byers alone tonight?
"I drove him--" Steve half explained, obviously realising that he needed to elaborate, "that's why uh I'm--it doesn't matter. There's a boy here that he likes."
Eddie's eyebrows shot up at Steve's explanation, looking back at the floor and the sea of dweeby, little gays circling each other awkwardly. Oh. Right. This was a lot of people's first chance to do anything with someone queer like them. He hadn't considered that Will would have someone here he intended to talk to.
Eddie laughed, both at his own stupidity and the charming realisation that he was glad this whole thing was happening, even if he wasn't having a good time.
"Good for him," Eddie snorted, cheersing the room and taking a swig of his punch.
"God," Eddie sighed, finding the humour in this whole thing now, "who the hell am I supposed to bother now?"
He was lamenting for no real reason, wondering quietly to himself if he should hold out and wait to see if anyone else his age showed up or if he should just cut his losses and start the long walk home. At least then, once he got back, Wayne would just assume he got a ride and had a good time. He didn't want to admit to Wayne that he ditched, not after he had agonised over whether or not it was worth it to spend the five dollars. Wayne had supported him going and assured him it wasn't a waste if he wanted to go. Eddie didn't want to prove him wrong.
Eddie glanced at Steve, wondering how he was going to excuse himself now that his out was occupied. He caught Steve looking at him and quickly looked forward again, surveying the room. That was weird. Eddie took note of that, slowly looking back at the party unfolding before them.
"So... Bi, huh?" Eddie offered, not sure why he was trying. He'd give it until he finished his glass of punch and then he'd walk home if no one interesting entered the party.
Steve seemed to laugh a bit awkwardly to that, doing this weird thing with his hands where he clasped them behind his back and then swung them forward to clasp at his front. It was the most uncomfortable Eddie had ever seen him--not that he had paid a ton of attention to Steve before now.
Oh. Eddie realised, feeling his chest clench a little, this was a lot of people's first chance to talk to another queer person. He was the oldest one here, closely followed by Steve... they were both fish out of water. Steve had the club, but there weren't a lot of guys their age that Eddie knew of who were queer. Steve had been mingling with kids this whole time. He was the elder here... weird.
"Yeah, I didn't really expect it to become a whole... thing," Steve replied, shaking Eddie from his thoughts. Right, he had pointedly questioned Steve's sexuality. Classy.
"Yeah, well, they'll get over it," Eddie retorted, feeling a bit bad now that he had been so dismissive of Steve's attempt to talk to him.
"I mean, it's been fine, I guess," Steve replied, sounding unsure of himself but not exactly bothered. Eddie could understand that, he didn't have the same experience per se, but all the guys at Hellfire knew he was queer and it was fine. He could remember being unsure though how gay he got to act around them all. It had been awkward and uncomfortable to find the rhythm of where you all sat, even if no one was blatantly rejecting you.
"Feels like you and everyone else are walking on eggshells about it, right?" Eddie asked, sighing as he leaned back until he hit the wall behind them, slouching.
"Something like that," Steve replied, his words coming out slowly as he watched Eddie and then took half a step back to join him against the wall.
"My advice? Just don't fall in love with your best friends," Eddie joked, only half serious. It verged on real advice, but it wasn't like it was something you could help.
Steve laughed anyway, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Yeah, as if. No thanks."
Something about that made Eddie smile a bit. Steve had been so dismissive of the idea as if the mere mention of having a mild interest in some jock was unheard of.
Eddie took a swig of his punch, swallowing hard as he started to relax a little bit.
"I'm bi too, you know," he said, sucking his upper lip to get the rest of the juice off.
"I can't remember if I used that word when I came out though--people just sort of figured with me, I don't think I really had to tell anyone."
"Yeah?" Steve asked, sounding interested but not sure how to progress.
"Uh, c'ya, what do you think?" Eddie mocked back, flipping his long hair over his shoulders and then flicking it back with his hands from side to side as if he were walking down some kind of runway. Long hair didn't mean you were gay, but it was a step towards making people think you were.
Steve laughed at that too, properly this time without that edge of awkwardness to it. That, in turn, made Eddie smile a bit. He liked it when people found him funny, it felt good to make people laugh. It felt better still to be joking about something gay and not having to correct or explain anything to the other person. Steve was queer too, even if he was new at this, there wasn't that same level of judgment. Huh... funny though that he suddenly just accepted that Steve was queer when he had been put off by the idea initially.
The night carried on like that and Eddie was surprised to find... that he didn't mind talking to Steve all that much. There were quite a few cultural touchstones that he didn't have when it came to 'nerd shit' but he didn't seem to be annoyed by Eddie explaining those things to him if it was necessary. Eddie had gotten a bit louder and more loose before too long, even if he wasn't exactly buddy-buddy with Steve. And Steve, surprisingly, had stuck with him the whole night. Really, the event hadn't matured at all and Eddie had little desire to go mingle with the kids--especially when the kid that he knew here was probably trying his best to flirt. What the hell was he supposed to do? Walk up to a group of youngsters and just ask what they were talking about? "Trust me, trust me. I play games with children all the time!" Yeah, no.
Eddie's watch beeped at him and he looked at it, turning the little digital screen off. It wasn't that late, just past 10 really, but the longer he waited the more miserable the walk home would be.
"Well, that's my queue," Eddie said, pushing off the wall and leaving his cup on a table by them. "I should go."
He stuffed his hands in his pockets, not regretting having come after all, but not really feeling like staying either. Steve had made the night bearable, but Eddie wasn't all that eager to keep it up.
"Why? Or you'll turn into a pumpkin?" Steve asked, teasing a little.
Eddie snorted at him, finding that line incredibly cheesy and in turn kind of funny because of that.
"Yeah, I've got to go traipse into the woods and take root or I'll start sprouting weeds like a chia-pet."
Steve chuckled at him, looking over to the doors. Eddie started walking towards the exit anyway, and Steve seemed surprised that he was actually going. He got off the wall and walked a few paces with Eddie before they both stopped, lingering a bit.
"I've just got to start walking home," Eddie explained, pinching his brows in, finding it kind of amusing that Steve seemed... concerned? He wasn't sure, it felt out of character for a cool guy to be following him.
"Walking home?" Steve asked, again, sounding surprised. "To Hawkins?"
"No to the moon, Bilbo was writing about me. Yeah back to Hawkins," he answered sarcastically, jamming his thumb towards the doors. Steve didn't seem bothered by the reply, even if he squinted for a moment with confusion with Eddie's mention of Bilbo.
"You live at Hawkins Trailer Park, right?" Steve asked.
The question instantly made Eddie tense, and he set his jaw a bit.
"Yeah, why?" He asked, sounding a bit defensive. He didn't like this line of questioning. It always felt weird when people commented on the fact that he lived in a trailer park. It especially felt weird coming from rich-boy Steve Harrington.
"Jeez, chill. I'll give you a ride, I live near there too," Steve explained, taking his keys out of his pocket and jostling them, "Hawkins is too far to walk to from here."
Eddie blinked at him a moment, floored by the offer for some reason.
"You don't have to do that, man," Eddie replied, feeling extremely awkward all of a sudden. "You should stay."
"And do what?" Steve asked, sounding amused. He looked over his shoulder at the crowd of young teens chatting and mingling before looking back at Eddie with a raised brow.
"Fair enough," Eddie replied, banishing his guilt for now. Steve was right though, Hawkins was far to walk to from here and there really wasn't a lot keeping Steve at the mixer. Will was getting a ride home from his brother and Robin was too busy fussing over every little thing to mingle. Plus, the event really would be closing soon so Steve didn't have to stay.
Eddie still felt awkward as he walked up to Steve's beamer and prepared himself to feel awkward the whole drive back to Hawkins. It was a nice car and he couldn't help but constantly think about how he had never been in a car this nice before. It wasn't brand-spanking new, but it almost felt like it with how clean it was. The car was spotless really and it was obvious that Steve took extremely good care of his ride.
"This is... uh, a nice ride," Eddie said, running his hands over the dash as Steve drove, before sitting back again.
"Thanks," Steve replied, chuckling a little. Eddie really was admiring the car; he wasn't a gear-head but he could appreciate a nice ride. Thrill bubbled in Eddie's stomach all of a sudden as he glanced at Steve.
"How fast can this thing go?"
Steve looked at him in turn, the moment drawing out between them before Steve's lips cracked into a smile.
"Want to find out?"
Eddie's eyes widened and he smiled back, surprised and pleased that his ask was being met. God, it was so stupid. They were being such teenagers right now. Steve in his daddy's bought, fast car with the punk, bad-influence kid in his passenger's seat ready to tear it up on the freeway.
Steve pulled off the main road and Eddie's stomach swooped with excitement. He didn't know where they were going but he figured Steve knew somewhere they could drive without hitting anyone. He didn't want to be stupid about it, maybe a bit reckless, but hey--they were young. When else were they going to do this shit?
Eddie leaned forward, turning on the radio and fiddling with the dial.
"What're you doing?" Steve asked, sounding amused as they drove towards some back, country road. Perfect.
"Finding the right music!" Eddie replied, sounding equal parts excited and exasperated for being asked. He was flicking through the dial quickly, only pausing for a beat or two before switching again until he found what he was looking for.
"You done?" Steve asked as Eddie paused for a moment longer to confirm that he liked the song. He looked at Steve before cranking the volume dial and sticking his tongue out.
"Let's fucking go," Eddie whooped, sitting back and bracing himself as he felt Steve hit the gas and they started rocketing down the road.
Fear mingled with thrill as Eddie sat back, holding onto the door as they drove down this pitch-black road. He shouted with excitement, obviously stressed but having a blast. Steve seemed cool as could be, smiling with the thrill of it too but none of Eddie's anxieties.
"Fuckin' hell--" Eddie managed as they reached a bend and Steve slowed down to take it. He started to decelerate, their quick little drag race having finished.
"We should do that again!" Eddie continued, panting a bit as he felt his heart pounding in his chest.
"Chill out--" Steve snorted, falling back into the rules of the road as he stopped at an unmarked rail crossing. "Cops like to drive around here--we'd be risking it."
"Boooo," Eddie called, smiling in a joking way. He understood and he wouldn't push it even if he wanted that adrenaline rush again.
"Another time then," Eddie replied finally, pausing for a moment as he realised he had assumed he'd be in Steve's car again for some reason.
"Sure," Steve answered back easily, chuckling a little.
Eddie glanced at him, before reaching to turn the music volume back down. He didn't turn it off though, needing the quiet metal to help settle him.
Steve sure did laugh a lot, didn't he? Was Eddie really that amusing?
Eddie felt his pocket buzz and he squirmed before taking his phone out. It was Wayne. He was asking if Eddie needed a ride, surely expecting that Eddie had lost track of time or something like that. Eddie let the car fall into silence as he replied back to Wayne, feeling a bit weird all of a sudden. He kept typing and retyping what to say.
No, I got a ride from a friend. Were Steve and him friends?
I'm good. Too vague, it would worry Wayne too much.
Some guy gave me a lift. That sounded sketchy as hell. Eddie just settled on 'no, I got a ride' and left it at that, but it made him feel weird regardless.
"Everything okay?" Steve asked, drawing Eddie's attention back to him.
"Oh, yeah, no, yeah. Just my uncle wondering how I was getting home," Eddie explained, feeling weird about Steve asking him something like that. Robin had been right... he really wasn't such a bad guy after all.
"So," Eddie said, breaking the silence, running his hands over the seat, "this car get you mad puss?" He asked, his tone jovial and teasing as he stuck his tongue out between his fingers, being lewd on purpose. He didn't know why his default was raunchy humour, but it had tumbled out of him before he thought too hard about it.
"God, shut up--" Steve replied in good humour, sounding surprised and amused by the sudden comment.
"I know I've got a reputation, but jeez, man," Steve laughed, driving them back onto the main road towards Hawkins.
"So... that a yes?" Eddie teased, enjoying this little banter.
"Yeah," Steve confirmed, before glancing at Eddie out of the corner of his eye with a wry smile.
Eddie burst out laughing at that, finding it more than a little amusing that Steve was leaning into the tease and taking it on the chin.
"Fuck, dude," Eddie giggled, not sure why that was just so amusing. It felt so weird to have good-boy, Steve Harrington talking to him about getting laid. This was so fucked up. This was so fucking weird.
"So," Steve started as Eddie stared out the window, still grinning to himself a bit, "how long have you known you were..."
Eddie glanced at Steve before lounging against the door, smiling at him.
"Queer?"
Steve looked at Eddie from the corner of his eye, obviously a little unsure of himself.
"You can say it you know," Eddie offered, crossing his arms and looking nonplussed. "If you are one, you get to say it as long as you're not like slurring it at someone or something. Welcome to the restricted section."
"Alright..." Steve replied, sounding a little unsure still. Eddie smiled at that too, finding it a bit charming how baby gay Steve was over the whole thing. He felt a bit superior all of a sudden, and he liked that feeling with Steve. He was in a fast car with the most popular boy in school and he was talking to him about how to be queer. What a trip.
"Since forever," Eddie replied, "I've known since forever. It was more weird for me to figure out that not everyone felt the same way. Like, girls--guys, whatever. Hot people are hot, end of story."
Steve nodded to that and Eddie tucked into the corner of his seat, feeling cool and relaxed as he watched Steve drive.
"You?"
Steve seemed to waffle a bit at the question, putting too much thought into it no doubt.
"I don't know," he finally replied, looking dissatisfied with his own answer, "somewhat recently, I think? It's like... I acknowledged it maybe a few months ago but, I don't know. Before that, I sort of felt like I was being dramatic or something? Like, obviously, I like girls so that's fine, it felt kinda... cliche?"
Eddie cringed a bit at the phrase Steve used, nodding his head and glancing away. He had much the same judgment towards Steve until recently. That had been unfair. It didn't matter that Steve was popular or that there had been less risk involved in his 'coming out' compared to Eddie. He was pretty and sporty and even if there was something a little cliche about an all-American boy like him turning out to be queer it didn't mean it was wrong.
"Your folks know?" Eddie asked, talking softer, not wanting to pry if Steve didn't want to talk about it.
"Yeah," Steve answered easily, his tone unreadable. "They knew before I uh... came out socially?"
Eddie nodded, rubbing his head against the window and feeling the car vibrate under him.
"They... cool?" He asked, feeling a bit weird about the whole thing. He was older than Steve, but he didn't really feel like he was. Steve had so much... going on. He had his own car, activities, career paths--he seemed so put together. He was perfectly coiffed and dressed, his car spotless... Eddie was the exact opposite. He wanted to be a musician and he worked hard at it, but sometimes it felt like he was putting all his eggs in one basket.
"Uh.... yeah, mostly," Steve replied, sounding a bit hesitant.
"That great, huh?" Eddie asked, smiling lightly and trying to sound sympathetic.
"No, well, my mom seems pretty accepting of it. Unsure like... nervous? I don't know. My dad... I don't really know what he thinks yet. He's--it doesn't matter."
Eddie frowned slightly as Steve cut himself off. It was a personal topic and he didn't blame him for not wanting to share, but it felt kind of bad to hear Steve say it didn't matter.
"What about your uh... uncle?" Steve asked, sounding awkward as he shifted the conversation.
"Yeah, he's cool," Eddie replied, looking back out the window, "I don't think he really knows how to be supportive necessarily so he's just like... trucking on but he's never dropped the ball. Treats all my... gay shit as if it was just normal shit." Eddie replied, laughing a little bit. He knew he was lucky to have Wayne. Not every queer person had a supportive family and once upon a time, he hadn't had that either. Wayne was a saviour... in more ways than one.
"That's... cool," Steve answered and Eddie snorted a little at how awkward the delivery had been.
"What?" Steve replied, sounding a bit amused.
"That's... cool," Eddie mocked, making his voice sound girly and vapid.
"Shut up," Steve scoffed, drawing up the syllables a bit.
Eddie grinned, liking that Steve seemed to be easy to torment. He went for the bait every time, but he never seemed overly offended.
"Gee wiz, Eddie, your uncle seems like such a cool guy," Eddie continued, being annoying on purpose. He kept it up as Steve started to laugh in mock annoyance. "Let's you go to a pre-teen party and everything."
"Stop--" Steve booed, glancing at Eddie quickly before purposefully wobbling the steering wheel and making the car quickly veer back and forth.
Eddie jolted up right at the movement, grabbing the door.
"Shit--don't--" Eddie squawked, smiling despite how that had made his stomach drop.
"Asshole--" Eddie jeered, looking at Steve who was grinning back at him. Okay, so Steve was actually fun? Was this why Dustin and those kids liked him so much? Mr. Uptight-jock was actually a little bit of a wild child hidden behind good hair and a dazzling smile?
Eddie settled into his seat, feeling kind of good about the night as he looked back out the window and let the rest of the drive grow quiet. They weren't far from Hawkins now and a part of Eddie felt kind of strung out from the weird emotional whiplash of the night.
"You know," Eddie said as they pulled up towards the trailer park, "you're actually not a bad guy, Steve Harrington."
Steve looked at him, eyebrows pinched in with mild concern.
"Thanks?"
"It's a compliment," Eddie scoffed in a friendly way, unbuckling his seatbelt as Steve drove slowly down the gravel road.
"Oh, well, thank you then," Steve reiterated a bit more sarcastically.
"You're also kind of a bitch," Eddie retorted, smiling at him and getting an incredulous sound from Steve. The car pulled to a stop and Eddie climbed out. He shut the door but lingered a second until Steve rolled down the window. He leaned over the frame and looked in at Steve.
"I can see why those kids think you're kind of cool," Eddie continued, feeling kind of... charmed. "Guess that makes you cool in my books too."
"Cool? Or cool?" Steve asked, mocking Eddie's previous buffoonery.
Eddie laughed, shaking his head as he leaned back.
"You're a bit of a dork too, you know that?"
He liked dorky guys.
"A dork? This? Coming from you?" Steve asked, inching his car forward a bit to keep Eddie in view of the window.
"Oh, cram-it," Eddie retorted, flipping Steve off through the window. He patted the doorframe lightly, careful not to hit it with any of his rings.
"Thanks for the ride though," Eddie swallowed, not really looking at Steve but still trying to be friendly.
"Yeah, man. Don't worry about it."
Eddie nodded, feeling weird about just walking away. He kind of wanted to stay out, chat more, and just listen to the radio with Steve which was... a weird thought. They didn't really have anything in common, and somehow Eddie knew that they weren't going to talk again at school. Steve was popular, he wasn't. Eddie was graduating this year, and Steve was 16. They ran in completely different circles.
"Kay, well, later then," Eddie offered, half waving his hand in front of the window before sticking his hands in his pockets and walking towards his trailer. Steve didn't say anything back, but he waited for Eddie to get his door open before pulling away like a proper gentleman.
The whole night felt... so odd to Eddie. He didn't know if he could say he had a good time, or even what had happened during the night, but it had been... nice. It had nothing to do with the mixer or anything Eddie had prepared himself for that night but instead, his good mood rested solely on his interaction with Steve. It was so weird and it left him feeling like he was in limbo. Like this night had been a weird pocket event and he'd never have a repeat of anything like it again. Nothing big had happened, nothing important, and there was nothing to remember about it really... but it felt like he wanted to hold onto it somehow.
Eddie huffed and stretched his lips, before finally taking the last few steps into the trailer. There was no point dwelling on something he couldn't touch and thinking too hard about it would probably ruin everything anyways. This could just be a one off. He could just look back on this and think about how nice it had been to bond... with Steve Harrington.
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comicgeekery · 3 months
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Sherlock and Shoscombe
So, after the deep dive I did with Sherlock & Co and the issues with the Case of Identity storyline, I thought it was only fair that I talk about their take on The Adventure at Shoscombe Old Place.
*Ahem*.....This was a lot of fun! I just looked up a summary of the original story because I didn't remember it well, and no wonder! It was the very last Sherlock Holmes story Doyle published, later collected into The Casebook, and thus...one of the boring ones. I'm sorry. I really don't like The Casebook stories. It's also the last batch of stories that the Doyle estate was clutching onto before Sherlock went fully into the public domain, which makes the story feel doubly tedious to me.
But! These episodes were a blast! Practically a survey of all the best parts of Sherlock & Co! There's fun banter! Heaps of character background! A really clever update to the original set-up! BRILLIANT acting and foley work! A cheeky cameo! And a truly exciting, satisfying end! I think this is the most direct information we've gotten about John's past since, well ever, but certainly since we learned about his memories of his dad. Now we know that he grew up in a very class-divided town that once felt so much bigger. And he was deeply in love once, with a woman he lost partially because of classism. (Which is such a great mirror for Beatrice and her husband's situation!) He also lost his friends because they had privileges he didn't. (Did John join the military partly as a way to get away from his roots? Out of a desperate need to be praised as a hero?)
No wonder John has so much resentment for the wealthy when it's so deeply personal. I think it's going to be comically awkward and VERY interesting when he finds out that Sherlock is mega super rich. Holmes is often theorized to be the son of a lord in canon. I figure he's at least from a wealthy family that was able to pay for him to go to tons of fancy schools. And then personal tutors. And a full-time staff that always took care of cleaning and stocking up the groceries. (For all his observation skills, I do think Sherlock grew up never considering who made his household run.) I think part of why Sherlock has been so touchy about John's anger at rich people is because Sherlock is SUPER nervous it would ruin their friendship. I am also so pumped to see what the podcast does with Mycroft! I wonder if his autism might be more limiting than Sherlock's. Like he's got the genius skills, he's got the deceptively powerful government job, but he can't handle going out into the world. Going to Baker Street would be an ordeal. Might have a full meltdown if he's not at home, work, or whatever the Diogenes Club is updated to. But.....It's hard to tell how much Sherlock & Co wants us to suspend our disbelief about some things. John and Sherlock have very clearly committed a LOT of crimes on their publicly available podcast. Maybe that will never be addressed or MAYBE Sherlock, Mycroft, or other Holmes allies have been bribing and intervening to keep them from getting arrested. Imagine the drama! "You hate the rich, but you owe all your success to MY money and power, 'Dr.' John Watson!" *Blinks rapidly*
Where was I? Oh yeah, Shoscombe. That. God. Damn. Chase. Scene! So bold for a podcast to have a climax with a car chase at the center. The foley work was top-notch for the driving and the terrain and then the crash and sinking in the lake. Whoever plays John Watson, you did an incredible job! The reckless car chase where, OF COURSE, he still narrates everything, the diving for Robert (and the clever layer of the recorder fritzing), and that CPR! It was all so engaging and believable! I love when John does doctor stuff generally, but this was my favorite example since the gunshot wound at the wedding with The Solitary Cyclist. Not sure I buy Robert's at-home crematorium as being 100% good, but I can believe John thinks so. Might help that John's a bit more desensitized to cutting into corpses than most folks. Finally, I'm sure folks are quite excited that a certain James made a cameo. (Maybe he's interested in why Sherlock and John keep getting away with all their crimes.) I knew he was going to show up at some point, and making Moriarty a listener shout-out is delightful. I just hope it's a while longer before he's ON the show. It always frustrates me when Moriarty winds up becoming basically Lex Luthor. Then again, we've already had similar cameos for Irene Adler and Baskerville Hall (and probably some I've missed) without them showing up yet. We'll see how it goes!
Good job, Sherlock & Co! I'm excited to see what you do next!
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My thoughts on AQPDO
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So, did this image appear in the actual film? Yeah, that's what I thought...
I loved it, and I was disappointed by it. This is long, so buckle in. Major Spoilers discussed below.
First, the outstanding: the performances. Holy hell. Lupita. Just...her talent is breathtaking. To sustain that level of intensity without overdoing it, I am simply in awe. Well done. I hope some attention is paid to her performance when award season rolls around. Ditto Alex Wolff. He did a LOT with so little screentime. Djimon too; they all were so, so moving.
Joe was so heartbreaking, and yet Joe's character is one of the things I am disappointed about, because I needed more. Not because I love Joe, but because the story needed it. I know there was a backstory that was cut, and to be honest I don't think that was necessarily a poor decision, but the issue is it was cut late in the creative process, versus in the writing, and that is where the problem is. More on that in a bit, but Joe delivered a sensitive and moving performance, and really understated as well. Not a bit of the cheeky Joe we have come to love so much that also I think pops out in Eddie and Michael occasionally. He was wholly immersed in Eric's reality and his energy complimented Lupita's so well; you can see how much they worked off each other. Dare I say she elevated his game. Another marathon performance and I can imagine how exhausting it must be to sustain that.
Second, Michael Sarnoski, hats off to you sir. The pacing, the way you put the story together visually, your heartbreaking script, just so well done. I hope they release the shooting script because I would love to read it and see the words (or lack of) that Joe and Lupita interpreted so movingly. I wonder if Michael has processed the death of a parent recently, because I felt so much emotion from this story. This film is about accepting the inevitability of death, while going through the five stages of grief, yet seeking to live fully regardless. Trigger warning: DO NOT see this movie if you are going through a rough time with someone who is terminally ill. It will wreck you. But this film is tragically, beautifully human. To deliver that story in a Hollywood big budget action film is a hat trick. Every actor in Hollywood who wants to grow creatively should be calling their agents asking to work with Michael Sarnoski right now.
Also, shout out to the production design people. They completely suspended my disbelief that the characters weren't in New York. Set design, lighting, like I could SMELL New York. Virtual production is getting so fucking good - we're well past the Unreal Wall vistas of the Mandalorian. If you ask yourself how A24 could shoot an Iraq war movie in the pastoral hills of England this is your answer.
Now, the not so good.
Go back and watch the first and second trailers and tell me how many of those moments were in the movie. Answer: barely any.
Map claw hand? We have to get out of the city? Gay couple? Old man turning off engine? Nada.
So, was this all misdirection in the marketing, making the audience think they were coming to see a summer action movie? That's legit, trying to get butts in seats, but I have a strong feeling Michael delivered a very different movie that was hacked up in the testing process. All of those scenes probably made the movie feel 'too long', and they had to cut them back to balance the action sequences with the emotional sequences.
The helicopters overhead spelling out THEY CAN'T SWIM probably came from focus group comments where someone was like 'why didn't the aliens just cross the river and start eating people in New Jersey?' (good point). But I'll bet you they wanted to give Alex Wolff's character a more significant death in regard to Samira's emotional journey, so they reshot the scene with the old man turning off the engine and had Alex do it instead.
Also, I get the strong feeling Eric showed up in the story much earlier in the original cut of the film, and the scene with Map Claw Hand illustrates that. The big question regarding Eric is why this random sad British dude gloms on to Samira and I'm not sure they answer that question in the final cut. Joe absolutely sells it, but it doesn't make sense and I suspect it's because it wasn't written that way.
Also, and call me crazy, but I think Joe is wearing a wig in some parts of this movie and not in other parts. It would make sense if there were significant reshoots based on early testing of the film. I wonder if the Alien Lava Tiki Bar (what...was that actually) scene was added later. Like, I get why Eric went up there- actually I don't, I think Eric would have been focused on getting the medicine back to her and wouldn't have taken a detour up scaffolding to follow I cat at all, but that's just me.
Finally, let's talk about the cat. Both Schnitzel and Nico are exquisite and enjoyable to watch, though how no one got scratched or bitten by a disgruntled feline is a mystery. We had a long debate about whether The Cat Represents Samira's Life, or The Cat is An Angel, or Fate, but ultimately we just went with KITTY and that made the story more enjoyable.
Samira is on a quest, to die on her terms, and once she accepts her fate, she sheds the things that no longer matter to her, and in the process gives Eric a purpose. The scene in the jazz bar was so moving. The final shot is also incredibly moving, and I hope the city was filled with the sound of music one last time, a beautiful elegy accompanying her soul to heaven.
Bravo.
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elumish · 1 month
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keeping in mind the strategic/operational/tactical failures discussed in your earlier post, what would be the major failure point of the worldbuilding in iron flame? feel free to spoiler tag. is it the nature of the enemy and the common public narrative about that?
Okay so even though I finished Iron Flame fairly recently, I have also read a lot of books in the interim, so this may be a little general and may not get every detail totally correct. I'll stick all of my thoughts under a Read More, so if you don't want Fourth Wing/Iron Flame spoilers, just skip this post.
Strategic: To be totally honest, I didn't have a huge issue with the strategic-level worldbuilding of the Empyrean. I think the question of why dragons take part in this whole thing and also why dragons vs. griffins are totally neatly divided by country borders that are relatively new is not clear and sort of a problem, but I could mostly suspend disbelief there.
It definitely is not the most well built out/robust strategic worldbuilding, but I was basically fine with it. My feeling basically boiled down to "it didn't make me actively annoyed so I lived with it and can't currently think of a major issue." Also I like dragons.
Operational: Okay! So!
I found the entire organizational structure/setup of this entire world absolutely baffling to the point of being incomprehensible.
This probably doesn't need to be said, but I will anyway: a major goal of a military is to have as many trained fighters as you can. Attrition is one of the biggest issues faced by militaries (other than logistics) and the more people you are starting with, 1) the more you can do in general and 2) the more people you can afford to lose.
This means that you really want as close to 100% of your potential fighting force to survive training. Even if you only view people as cannon fodder, literally the point of cannon fodder is to put them in front of the cannons, not kill them in training.
I know the argument presented in the series by Violet is that it inures them to death so they can keep going when their teammates die, but that is terrible for a military. Yes, people need to be able to keep going when their teammate dies, but the training system has them killing each other. They are incentivized to kill each other! And so this school is literally training them to commit friendly fire incidents. Do you know what happens in a military that trains its soldiers to commit friendly fire incidents? They all kill each other and can't work effectively as a team. And being inured to that? That's just PTSD! You are just fucked up!
So having this military school system where they need to kill each other to win makes for a dramatic story but is an absolutely awful military training setup.
But also these are (or should be, if they had a non-awful system) highly trained members of the military, which makes them extremely valuable and also extremely expensive. People who fail out should just get stuck in a different part of the military instead of basically being killed.
And actually to that point, this whole setup would make much more sense if they had the equivalent of basic training and then had people specialize, the way they do in the real military. You absolutely want your military forces to be interoperable, and they are not even a little bit in this world.
Also why the hell don't these people use more ground forces? The number of dragon riders is limited to the number of dragons, but you can just have as many infantry as you can logistically sustain. Set up an effective border defense.
If you look at the traitor people (I can't remember what they're called right now), sticking them in the elite fighting force school also doesn't make any sense. I know they gave some in-universe reason for it, but especially because of the incomprehensible "if more than three of them are near each other then we can't magically surveil them" system if they were actually viewed as a security risk, they shouldn't have been allowed anywhere near the military, much less in the dragon forces.
They're a literal flight risk! There is absolutely nothing keeping them from defecting en masse. They can't be surveilled when they're together! Also they could commit friendly fire attacks! None of it makes any sense!
I also never really understood why they were keeping the real enemy a secret and why there was such a concerted effort. It didn't seem like the military leadership/king got any real benefit from maintaining a massive conspiracy to...kneecap their own military force.
The funny thing is that since finishing Iron Flame I've read basically all of Rebecca Yarros's other books, which are basically all contemporary romance, and she writes a lot of military-adjacent books, and they generally don't have this problem. Her husband was (is?) in the military, and she seems to have a decent understanding of it, so I'm not sure why she threw that all away for this.
Tactical: Okay so this is a lot related to the issue of "why are the trainees incentivized to kill each other" but Violet's ability to poison her way through her sparring didn't make any real sense if they was any point to the sparring. She should have just been made to spar with some instructors. And also they should have had some real fighting training. Though again that's more an operational issue.
Violet definitely had a lot of Plot Strings (the plot "coincidentally" moving her to the right place at the right time to do something only she could do): especially, that she (the person who happened to have the father who knew all of the plot-relevant things for some reason) happened to get magically soul-bonded to Xaden (the person leading the group that happens to know the truth about everything). I understand the whole situation with her mother, but her mother didn't control the soul bonding.
Overall the issue on a character level was more of a "wow this person just happens to have/be exactly what we need at this time" (the prince! who was just there! until he was extremely plot relevant coincidentally just when we needed him!) but each character was mostly believable taken in isolation.
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oneatlatime · 10 months
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The Journey to Ba Sing Se Part 2: The Drill
Could I have Appa back please?
The Previously On segment actually didn't spoil anything for once. Nice.
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I do like these tank things. In fact I like all Fire Nation technology. Not what it's used for. But the designs are neat. And more interesting than most actual military tech. You ever look at something techy, and think to yourself 'there was an artist involved here,' because that's the impression FN tech gives me. It's not beautiful, but there's a pleasing toothiness to it.
Excellent sound design on the metal screechy moving bits. And is that tank escort really necessary?
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I know this is a kids' cartoon, with characters that are designed to be the audience's age. I know! And usually I can suspend my disbelief and forget that I'm watching children do very adult jobs! But this caught me so off guard I laughed. The Fire Nation's big secret project to break through the wall once and for all, that would be an absolute career making achievement for whoever is in charge, and they've given it to a bunch of teenage girls. This is where my suspension of disbelief stops.
Can you imagine the meeting where this was proposed? The Fire Lord being like "Who can lead the attack on Ba Sing Se? We lost Zhao at the North Pole, does whoever it is who occupies his equivalent rank in the Army want the job? Or even Zhao's second in command perhaps? Or how about: three middle school girls, two of which aren't even members of the military? Doesn't that sound like a good plan?" And of course all his advisors have to agree and be like "that sounds like an excellent plan your lordship; did you have any particular girls in mind or should we go scout out the local Claire's?" because the last guy who disagreed with him got his face blown off. I don't care how viciously talented Azula and friends are; a country that puts eighth graders in charge of invasion plans should have lost the war in year one, not still be winning it in year 99.
Did that random commander guy just smack Ty Lee in the face?
Problem the first of this plan: unless the Fire Nation has invented pocket dimensions or bags of holding, there is no way that that drill, even stuffed full of soldiers, would hold enough people to take a city that seemingly contains every single refugee in the entire Earth Kingdom.
Do you think those refugees got preferential treatment for arriving on an Avatar powered elevator?
"I'm the Avatar. Take me to whoever's in charge." OWN IT BABY!!!
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That's one hell of an irrigation system they must have.
"He was quickly expunged." Was he? I got the impression he quit. Of his own accord.
Something tells me like forty guys throwing rocks won't stop that thing.
So... what was Mai doing that whole fight? Hanging decoratively off a rope?
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I'd forgotten how stupid Earth Kingdom generals were. Luckily Sokka is there to vicariously express my opinion of them. A reverse beat up Sokka quota fulfillment!
Toph is such a little shit and I love her.
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Aang sure does put up with a lot sometimes. Part of being the Avatar. It's a good thing he has such patience. Can we talk about how lucky the world is that Aang is the one tasked with putting up with nonsense like this? Imagine if Sokka or Toph were the Avatar. There would be casualties.
I like complaining too buddy. Nice to see Sokka's worth being recognised. Now can we do that outside of a life or death situation too please?
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I joke about Zuko's dumbass behaviour, but let's be honest, it's inherited.
Jet. Fuckboy. You do not make it easy to even slightly like you. Guy is missing the point as much as Zuko usually does. Going straight MEANS leaving the freedom fighters behind. It doesn't mean reforming them somewhere else. And what Fire Nation threat are you going to find in Ba Sing Se for your Freedom Fighters to fight? You know, if this idiot was actually serious about fighting for Freedom rather than blowing stuff up for fun, he'd fudge his age and enlist in the Earth Kingdom Army.
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Four points: How does Katara know Ty Lee's name? Is this confirmation that waterbending healing cannot remove a Chi block? I love that the trait that gives away Ty Lee's identity is the fact that she cartwheeled away. I love Sokka. Just in general.
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There is no way this girl is not tripping.
Can you imagine how loud standing right next to that drill must be?
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ABS
Normally I'd say that one earthbender trying to slow the drill down with spikes will work even worse than the Terra Team who tried and failed with like 40, but this is Toph we're talking about. It could work.
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These children are so polite when they're committing industrial sabotage. Truly, they were raised well.
Do you ever get the feeling that whoever is in charge of designing Fire Nation armour is into a few things that he's trying to repress so hard that they're coming out in all the wrong places?
Jet seems to have lost all the manipulative abilities he had in his episode. Suddenly he's very bad at reading body language and keeps saying the exact opposite of what he should.
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New achievement unlocked! 1000% agreeing with something Zuko said! That was a pretty stupid move.
Cups made out of leaves are neat.
Katara, you can't have it both ways. You can't look to Sokka to make the plan, then get snippy when the plan correctly plays to all of your strengths. He physically CAN'T bend. Either you come up with a better plan yourself, or you do as the guy you appointed planner suggests.
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Points in favour of allowing Katara to murder people, exhibit 1.
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Confirmed: Sokka is catnip for girls.
Even in comparison to the others, Ty Lee has a bad case of cartoon physics.
Did Katara just disarm herself? That'll come back to bite her in 3, 2, 1...
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Mai gets a second personality trait! Yay!
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There is no way this is actually practical armour. This is someone in procurement with a thing for sweaty bulging muscles and puppy masks.
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And thus, the log ride was born. Later versions would go on to perfect the concept by introducing a log.
I felt Sokka's mud freakout in my bones. Looks like Katara giving away her water isn't going to be a problem.
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Petition to let Katara say bitch. The voice actress said Circus Freak but I know what I heard in my heart.
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Remember that time Sokka smacked his forehead so many times that his face was permanently red? My turn now.
Aang. I know you love your friends. But maybe a battle on top of a moving machine of destruction in the midst of an aerial assault from your idiotic allies while facing off with the single most powerful and amoral firebender in existence, isn't a place to bring your pet lemur?
Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by little sister. It's surprising that isn't the case more often. I know Sokka took it too far, but if you don't want him telling you what to do, maybe you shouldn't have looked to him for a plan?
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Toph is here! Day saved.
Finally some sense re: Momo safety.
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Time for the Western showdown. There's even something that could stand in for a water tower in the background.
If Azula had just struck at Aang the second he got knocked unconscious, rather than waiting until he woke up for dramatic purposes, she would have won this. I give Zuko Hell for being a theatre kid, but he's not the only one in the family.
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I would love to know what they make Fire Nation boot soles out of. They have supernatural traction.
I take back everything I said about pet safety. That was a really cool Momo assist.
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Aang invents the pneumatic hammer.
I LOVE that the cut braces had an effect after all. Sokka's contribution counts!
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I bet this guy's wishing he'd been eaten by a giant fishman like Zhao right about now. Have fun explaining that one to the Firelord!
HOW is Ty Lee still alive?
HOW does Azula still have knees after that drop?
HOW does Mai have such perfect timing?
ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN
They really ought to put wheels on all but the back car to reduce friction and save energy. Then again, if the Earth Kingdom is one thing, it's stupid.
So... Jet's change of heart lasted a bit less than one episode. Good job fuckboy!
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So precious.
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So Pretty.
Final Thoughts
This was like 90% action, with the other 10% being split between Zuko & Iroh plot stuff and Sokka playing comic relief. So there's not that much to talk about here really (she says, having found a whole post's worth of stuff to talk about).
Sokka had his bossy pants on, admittedly because he was asked to don them. Aang got to do some proper Avataring. Katara and Toph got to exercise their bending muscles. I'm not surprised that Toph was absent for much of the middle of the episode, because - let's be honest - given the right tools, Toph would have finished the Drill in one move. And then they'd be out of episode.
Actually, Mai got to have a personality beyond Too Bored To Live this episode. This is probably the most personality I've seen out of her so far. She's much more expressive when she's with just Ty Lee, rather than Ty Lee and Azula.
And Zuko! Had! Common! Sense! Iroh had to be a dumbass for Zuko to shine, but Zuko was, once again, the most reasonable character in his little B plot. For future reference: If you want to make Zuko reasonable, all you have to do is nerf his uncle and juxtapose him with a terrorist.
I loathe Jet. Always have, probably always will. But I'm still disappointed in him. His 'turning over a new leaf' - if it was sincere at all - lasted like 10 on-screen minutes. I feel sorry for Smellerbee and Longshot. I don't think their faith in their glorious leader is going to be repaid. He seems to brush off Smellerbee's opinions.
The strangest thing this episode was how few lines Azula had. I guess maybe they were using silence to try to show how calculating and collected she is compared to others, but honestly my first thought was that the voice actress had something going on. A cold? A previous engagement? It felt really weird to hear her speak so little, since previous episodes have shown she's not averse to gloating and dramatic monologues. She didn't even have much in the way of facial expressions.
I think the winners this episode were Mai, who got to have a personality; Zuko, who got a turn with the brain cell; and Aang, who got to work out pretty much all the bending he knows so far and successfully Avatar.
I did notice with some of the shots of Aang moving the big boulders the idiots were chucking down, that there was a kind of fuzziness to the air between Aang and what he was moving. Was I seeing the actual bending energy (Chi I guess) moving?
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jane-the-virgin0 · 2 months
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Knocking at death's door (ch. 2)
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summary: ~right before ROTS~ you're the Princess of a foreign land, about to be Queen. your father, although unknown to you, is Palpatine (pls suspend your disbelief), and you have force lightning powers. your powers have been sensed by the Grand Council and they know that you'll be recruited to the dark side, so they send Obi-Wan and Anakin to kill you before you can be used as a weapon. your life is doomed from the start, but Obi-Wan can't complete his mission.
pairing: Obi-Wan/reader
rating: 18+, minors DNI
warnings: violence (it is Star Wars), eventual smut, fluff, angst, death, age gap (reader is 24)
chapters: 1 ✧ 2/?
w/c: ~1237 (oops sorry not longer lol)
a/n: i've decided i'm gonna switch POV's every chapter:) hope u like!
˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。
“Master, must we have to act as a bodyguard for yet another princess?” Anakin whined.
“We are not bodyguards, have you been listening? We are to pose as bodyguards to gain the princess’ trust, then we are going to kill her.”
“Why can we not go kill her now?”
“Patience, Anakin. We must observe her and see how strong her sith powers are. If we were to engage her in combat immediately, we run the risk of being overpowered.”
“But-“
“Anakin.” Obi-Wan said, exasperated with his young padawan.
He directed their cruiser towards the distant planet. He too was incredulous about the fact that Mace Windu, and the rest of the Grand Council, would send their Jedi on a mission to one of the farthest reaches of the galaxy to kill a no-name princess. But if it must be done for good of galaxy, then Obi-Wan was willing to do it.
Still, he mused to himself, how did a long-lost daughter of Palpatine hide under the radar for so long? And being only a few years older than Anakin? If she was as half as strong as Anakin, they would be in trouble.
Sighing, he prepared the craft for landing.
˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。
“During this transfer of power, we are here to protect the princess and offer guidance for traveling to and from the Senate.” 
“Wonderful!” The Queen exclaims, gracefully eating her plate of fresh fruit.
“Y/N? Anything to add?” She says pointedly.
“…No. Not really, your Grace.”
Obi-Wan eyes the Princess. She picks at her plate, mixing all the food together into one big blob.
“We are merely here to keep you safe, Princess, do not fear of us getting in your way.” Obi-Wan adds.
The Princess eyes him warily, her body language like that of a stray cat, coiled back and ready to attack if needed. 
“Nonsense! She will be fine- in fact, she will be pleasant and accompany you on a tour throughout the palace before our court convenes.” The Queen says, standing up from the table, her handmaiden rushing to pull the chair back for her.
Obi-Wan looked back at the Princess, catching her throw a deathly glare at the Queen.
He felt exhausted already. His frustration with being sent on a mission that was proving to be a lot more troublesome than originally thought - himself and Anakin really should be able to kill her in a week, but with her stubbornness, it would likely take longer to get her to trust them - combined with having to wrangle Anakin like normal was beginning to put him in a sour mood.
Obi-Wan stood up, gently bowing to the Queen. He puts a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, interrupting his focus on stuffing his face full of fresh fruit and bread.
Anakin’s chair squeaks back as he rushes to stand.
“Thank you, your Grace.” He says.
Obi-Wan nearly rolls his eyes.
“If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you around and then to your quarters.”
Y/N stands up and begins to walk down the hall. Obi-Wan and Anakin trail after her.
“It is a beautiful palace, Princess. What do you know of its construction?” Obi-Wan asks, attempting to make conversation.
Y/N shrugs.
Anakin attempts to hold back a snort.
“I cannot say. All I know is that my grandmother, the Queen before my mother, helped to build the garden that helps to feed everyone in the castle. It is located in the back, if you are ever curious and want to meander through.” She says, keeping her gaze forward.
“Do you ever leave the palace?” Anakin asks, sauntering up to walk next to Y/N.
Y/N pays him no mind. “Rarely, only for special occasions like festivals and crowning ceremonies.”
Anakin makes eye contact with Obi-Wan, considering what she said.
“Here is the library-“ Y/N says, pointing towards an open door.
“And down the hall is the ballroom.”
“You have parties here often?”
“Anakin.”
For the first time, the Princess laughs. It’s a soft laugh, barely audible, but there nonetheless. 
He feels himself smile in response.
“Yes, actually. We host the court and their families, as well as any important families in towns across the realm. Although they meet with the Queen for business, we try to keep them happy with dancing, music, and alcohol once a month.”
“When’s the next one?”
“Anakin.” Obi-Wan sighed.
“In a few days time, actually. Presuming you are…still here, you might be able to experience it.”
They walked in silence down the hall and up the stairs.
“These two rooms here are for you. The one down the hall and to the right is mine.” She points at three rooms.
“I will take the first watch tonight, Princess.” Obi-Wan says.
She halts.
“First watch?”
“Yes, we’re here to protect you, so we’re going to watch over your room while you sleep.” Anakin says, shrugging.
“Absolutely not.” Y/N says sharply, her demeanor now even more frosty.
“I’m afraid that cannot be helped, Princess. We have promised the Queen that we would keep you safe-“
“I’ve never had someone guard my room before! I am not to be a prisoner in my own palace!”
Her angry words matched the fire in her eyes. Before either of them could respond, she marched into her room and slammed the door.
Anakin turned to Obi-Wan.
“Still think I’m annoying?” He grins and walks back the way they came.
Prisoner in her own room? They were sent here to make sure no one got in and tried to take even more advantage of her Sith powers. But what if they needed to be more concerned with her getting out?
˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。˚✧ ゚. ✧˚ ༘ ⋆。
Obi-Wan stands outside the Princess’s room, the air from the hall window blowing a frigid breeze onto his body. He wraps his robes tighter around his torso.
The Princess claimed she liked to sleep with the windows open, much to the disdain of Obi-Wan. While he saw no reason to believe her untrustworthy, he made sure to let her know how much of a security risk it could be.
“Princess, something could sneak into your bedchambers and harm you, without us knowing.” He had said.
She scoffed.
“My window merely backs up to the back courtyard. Do you expect a stray fenner’s rock to harbor such ill will for me that it climbs my brick walls and strangles me in my sleep?”
“Princess, I sincerely care for your safety-”
“Enough!” She said, and slammed the door behind her.
If he did not know any better, he would liken her attitude to Anakin's.
Unfortunately, she had yet to do anything that would raise suspicion, and going to the Queen to tattle on the Princess would only make her like him less, so he was forced to trust her.
Anakin was in bed, resting until it was his shift, which was not for a while. Obi-Wan was trained to have his guard up at all times, after all, a Jedi must be sharp and prepared for anything. 
…Which was why when he heard a slight rustling outside the window, he moved slowly, lightsaber at the ready. Taking a quick peek outside, he saw a flash of white and the Princess’ hair darting through a bush.
Mentally cursing at himself, he slides through the window and down the short drop onto the ground below.
Following after Y/N, he had no time to think about why he really let her get away with keeping your window open in the first place.
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anneapocalypse · 2 months
Text
On "friendly competition."
One place I do think Dawntrail fumbled the ball (and I have a few, though I did love it overall) is I still feel like the setup for the Scions working for opposing claimants was too glib. I know a lot of people loved that scene in 6.55 because Thancred and Urianger, and yes, they're great together and have fun chemistry. But once you know what they're actually talking about it does leave a bad taste in my mouth. They (and the other Scions when they find out) are effectively treating the governance of a sovereign nation, something that will have longstanding political ramifications and affect the lives of a lot of people, as a game where they get to spar with their friends.
The Scions have witnessed firsthand the damage and upheaval that power shifts can entail, and none of them really know that much about the situation in Tural before arriving there; they can't know that it's going to be a smooth transition with no unrest or bloodshed. (And guess what! it isn't!) Thancred, Alphinaud, and the Warrior of Light especially know this, as they were all at that banquet, and latter two also got to witness a major power shift in Ishgard and everything that came with that. They all saw Garlemald, and the twins especially have spent a lot of time there. And then there's, you know, (gestures to the entirety of Stormblood). Urianger may not have been present for a lot of these events directly, but he knows what happened and he's seen the impact on his closest friends.
The Scions understand that politics aren't a low-stakes game, is what I'm saying. They have to know that things have the potential to go very wrong here, and that this "friendly competition" could turn anything but. We know now that Koana and Wuk Lamat care too much about one another to turn on each other directly, but there's no way any of the Scions could have been sure of that at the time, and it also doesn't account for the actions of the other two claimants, which the Scions definitely could not have predicted.
So I think this is a place where the "We're all going on a fun vacation" vibe of the lead-up to Dawntrail does take away from the story a bit. I personally enjoyed the tone shift at the midpoint, and had been pretty sure something like that was going to happen, but I think maybe some minor writing adjustments could have made the setup work a little better. The obvious fix is like, just don't have Thancred and Urianger know that others are working for Wuk Lamat. The Scions are officially disbanded, they may not all be sharing their plans, no one expected Estinien to show up in Tural either, so whatever, we can suspend our disbelief. The other option would be to give the Thancred and Urianger scene a more serious tone, while still keeping the details vague, but that might've stepped on the overall tone they were going for with DT's marketing (though I don't know that it would've been any more of a giveaway than showing the cyberpunk areas ahead of time).
It's a small thing; I imagine it probably didn't bother a lot of people at at all, and it certainly didn't ruin the experience for me! But it is one thing that felt off to me and which I'd probably rewrite a little if I ever want to do anything with it.
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panlight · 9 months
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I'm not sure if its possible to get something like pigs blood from a butcher in the US, but i feel like someone like Esme would prefer that over hunting animals.
And maybe Carlisle and Rosalie would work on a blood alternative, kind of like TruBlood, for vampires.
What are your thoughts on that?
My understanding is that it's tricky in the US to find it, but with the Cullens' money they could probably pay off some local butchers to save blood for them. Just imagining Esme being like "oh I make authentic black pudding and sell it online!" as an explanation and they make like a fake online store front for it and then people start trying to actually order it and she's like, oh crap I guess I have to make some now? Like when you read stories about restaurants that were really fronts for mob activity but someone wanders in and the mobsters have to get their mom to cook some pasta for the oblivious customers.
But, really, if SM were more interested in 'vampire slice of life' stuff AND if she had more room in her story for the secondary characters to have desires and motivations outsides of either facilitating or resenting the main romance, of course Carlisle would have been trying to make a blood substitute, and of course Rosalie and Edward, with their various STEM degrees, would be helping him. And OF COURSE they would have researched the myths surrounding vampires having children long before Bella got pregnant. It's absolutely impossible for me to suspend my disbelief to accept that the Cullens and especially Carlisle were just like 'wow we literally never thought or wondered about this until just now' when Bella gets pregnant. Esme and Rosalie LONG for children! SURELY they've researched this before!?!? I could accept that they researched it but found no concrete evidence and thought it was just a myth made up by the Volturi or whatever but just the 'literally no idea . . . even though apparently there are books in our library about it, and our groundskeepers on Isle Esme know about it, and there are websites online about it' does not make sense to me unless the Cullens have just literally been standing around like unplayed Sims waiting for Edward and Bella to need them for something.
I also think the Cullens probably should have been working on some kind of sparkle-suppressing vampire make-up. I've seen people asking why they don't just use make-up to hide the sparkle or look older, but since their skin is so different from human skin, normal make-up probably wouldn't work that well. But again, you've got Alice the fashion maven and bunch of other vampires with backgrounds in biology and they can't put their heads together and come up with some kind of vampire-friendly, sparkle-proof foundation?
Again, I get it: at the end of the day Twilight is a romance, and romances generally and understandably have a narrow focus on the central relationship. But romances don't usually have so MANY side characters, either. Realistically, I would expect the Cullens, with their various medical and scientific studies, abundant free time (no sleep!) and unlimited wealth, would have already solved a lot of living-as-a-vampire problems by the time Bella showed up.
Assuming they can be solved, of course. Maybe vampire venom on the skin really just makes any make-up lasting for more than a half hour impossible. Maybe a blood substitute just doesn't work because there's some magical 'blood is the life' thing going on here. Maybe pig's blood is just too impractical to get from a butcher in the volume they need it. Maybe the act of hunting helps them release tension and they realize they miss it.
But yeah I'd have loved to have seen more of this. There's some stuff in Midnight Sun that hints at the stuff the Cullens get up to, but it's more like, Emmett and Jasper's complicated chess game with multiple boards, or Alice and Rosalie designing clothes on the computer. I don't think SM really thought about 'what would a vampire doctor who wants to be as human as possible be researching in his spare time?' and so we missed out on some of this stuff.
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idsfantasy · 11 months
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What are your opinions on the FNaF movie?
Some say it's good, some say it's bad. For me it was somewhere in between. Sure there are flaws and unclear story elements that get forgotten mid watch as well as some moment not being so scary, but the setting was fantastic, the acting was good, and there were a lot of comedic moments. Sure, regular viewers won't understand it, but it's specifically made for the fans.
Man, the movie was so cool (and to be honest even with the flaws and unclear elements still an easier entry point to the lore than the games lol)
This movie was pretty much exactly what I wanted from a FNAF movie. The characters were amazing, the humor was fun, the plot was interesting. It wasn't majorly scary but I didn't really want it to be and the scary moments were done really well. The Freddy head turn to listen for Mike was great.
My one big complaint is that we didn't get enough William/that he should have been teased earlier by name (potentially having tutorial lady say his name when talking about the founder so that the name means something to the new viewers).
Speaking of William, Matthew Lillard was an excellent choice for the role. The way he flipped through the persona of Steve Raglan the career counselor, Steve after realizing who Mike was, William Afton the showboating serial killer, and William the narcissistic and abusive father was impeccable.
The other actors also did a great job. I don't think there was any point I had to suspend my disbelief on that front. Doug was great. He was such a mood and is also now my favorite movie character.
Anyway, the movie wasn't perfect but it was pretty much everything I wanted and expected if not more. I have some fun ideas about where the movie continuity could go from here and I'm really looking forward to seeing where Scott and the crew take it (and who knows, maybe the channel will get big enough for me to cameo in 2 or 3. That would be wild and also like, the one circumstance I would face reveal).
Fun movie, especially for fans! 8.5/10
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