#op’s answer: it’s necessary but it kinda sucks
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mylittleredgirl · 1 year ago
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inspired by @daincrediblegg’s very important post on how to access the full brian henson version of the muppet christmas carol on disney+ including the cut song i’m compelled to ask the MOST divisive holiday question:
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the-dragon-twin-demons · 10 months ago
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Notes of warning/importance
I have a slight headcannon for some lore here. The circles are giant domed cities connected to one another via tubes with plenty of ventilation to keep out the mists from what I call the badlands. These mists corrupt almost all who enter by first slowly but noticably draining a demons sentience turning them into beasts of burden with one mission and one mission only...Feed. of course it also slowly corrupts the form until it's a complete feral form of itself. The only beings so far known to resist the mists were Lucifer and Lilith aside from the dragon twins. I also suck at art like my blog description says so I used avatar makers to make the pictures here and I'll just use an image of deathwing from world of Warcraft/blizzard entertainment for Bahamut 's dragon form and an ancient silver dragon from DND/wizards of the coast for tiamaht's until I can better form arts of the dragon modes better myself.
Roleplay rules&info
Minors DNI
Bahamut is straight and Tiamaht, Ruby, and Lillian are lesbian both dragons are polyamorous and imps are monogamous
Shitposting questions are not allowed so no "ur mom gae" kinda stuff.
If absolutely necessary I will deactivate anon asks but I don't want to for now and will change this bit of text if I had to.
Be respectful of others and me as a person out of character because in character is one thing, lots of folk in hell are pricks. People have their own lives and luxuries to live and experience and don't deserve to be rushed or disrespected when you don't even know the person in the slightest.
Sexual asks I must mention be kept to an all time low or just not at all but there are characters like angel even if they're not other men or other angel dusts and I can't stop them but in most cases I won't be answering them
Character intros
These are the twin dragons of hell Bahamut (left), Keeper of Knowledge was manifested billions of ages ago when Hell was a singular realm and not split into the 7 circles that we have now in modern day. According to many legends of him (and to confirm them) he IS Hell's oldest living encyclopedia and a master strategist. He has the wit, but not the power, to far exceed any modernly known demon...including the Radio Demon himself. But if he were put into a fight of raw power against say, angel dust, the spirder'd be burned to a crisp. He believes in Charlie's ambitious nature but as a Primordial Daemon, Bahamut is bound to Hell and can never be redeemed despite his efforts and has made peace with that. (Physical notes not said: he's 5'10, he's not lacking for anyone he's with and though I didn't find a good one he does have a longer tail to sell the dragon aspect further)
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His sister Tiamaht, Protectorate or Relics(right) was a demon born before Hell was divided into the 7 circles we know now. She, like her brother, is an extremely loyal demon. She is the strength to her brother's strategy yet is far more nomadic than him. Of course she's not all that into planning without Bahamut there. Unlike Bahamut though she uses ice magic instead of flame magic. In person lately she is very tomboyish and kind of a dick but openly admits as such but follows up with "people need people to be blunt sometimes and it's not easy but if I'm the one who has to in situations I'm then I'll make sure I tell it how it is" (physical details not told yet: shes 5'3, they may not be bif but her partners love em, also has a tail she uses to teasingly spank partners.)
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And below this text are the dragon forms
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Other OCs
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Name: Ruby Bakers, Age: 1845, Gender: post op MtF (bc apparently males have thick white stripes and that's how to differentiate and I just thought it was a humans gender dimorphism thing which made me pick these horns before I knew), Orientation: technically lesbian now but she's attracted to women. Job: Helluva Post delivery woman
(Both Ruby and Lillian were made using this ⬇️)
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Name: Lillian Servont (pronounced like servant but it's Ser-vahnt), age 1576, gender: cis female, orientation: poly lesbian, job: personal assistant/secretary to the first overlord to accept her application (will edit this post to change that) so that she can run a business specifically meant to send people on that path.
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bigskydreaming · 4 years ago
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Okay, my thoughts on that last reblog, and the TYPE of protectiveness showcased on Bruce’s part.....and to be 100% clear, this is not meant as a call-out to the OP of that post whom I don’t know and have nothing against, its simply about the fact that this kind of view of Bruce and certain forms of his parenting are not at ALL uncommon in fandom, and I’m just kinda like hi, yeah, I have some issues I would like to raise here plz and thank you:
So the issue I have with so many headcanons that pair massive invasions of privacy and disregard for personal boundaries with the idea that this is Good Dad Bruce Wayne....is that no matter what one feels this says about Bruce’s concern for his children, it simultaneously also says or implies that for such extreme measures to be deemed good and not invasive, and as such NECESSARY.....then his children are not just headstrong....but UNREASONABLE.
Because families fight. The Batfam moreso than a lot, sure, but even still, I think anyone trying to pitch the existence of Good Dad Bruce Wayne is still ultimately trying to build a case for a Batfam who even when they fight, still love each other.
But with a family like that, no matter HOW much they fight....they’re still ultimately all going to understand and be ABLE to keep an awareness that even while FURIOUS with each other....this doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other’s well-being and want to know and be reassured that they’re alright.
And this is what’s not on display on the side of Bruce’s kids, anytime a fic or headcanon or meta defaults to justifying Bruce going to extreme lengths to look out for or even just check up on his kids....because intentionally or not, it paints his kids as total assholes if they’re not even willing to accommodate basic requests about checking in or being checked up on, so at least their dad who loves them knows that they’re alive and well.
Only if and when his kids just flat out stonewall and block any and all LEGITIMATE attempts by Bruce to check up on them, do his more invasive attempts at doing so become necessary and thus ‘justified’ to any degree whatsoever....
With the biggest issue here being that so many fics and headcanons just hop, skip and jump straight over and past any attempt at Bruce giving his kids the OPPORTUNITY to meet him halfway and at least check in or reassure him they’re safe despite being pissed for other reasons....
And go straight to Bruce keeping them under surveillance in manners that wouldn’t be out of place with the CIA’s protocols for watching enemies of the state or what-the-fuck-ever.
And all the while, treating it as though its just a GIVEN that Bruce HAS to resort to such measures....because just....calling them on the fucking phone isn’t going to get him anywhere.
Like yeah, if you want to write a story where he tries that and they block him at every turn, and so Bruce ‘has’ to resort to less than stellar measures to gain any peace of mind, go ahead. Just don’t be surprised if when you write it all out in such a manner, showing each step of the way rather than just skipping straight to the endpoint there as though its a foregone conclusion, you run into people commenting with judgmental opinions of the kids and what assholes they’re being, that Bruce feels he has to go to such lengths at all.
Because I think the reason we so rarely see people ‘showing their work’ here and just jumping straight to Bruce asking forgiveness rather than permission (while umm, usually still not ever asking forgiveness which is sorta kinda still a necessary ingredient of that axiom but I fuckin’ digress).....is because I think deep down most people know that it isn’t really in character for all of the Batkids to just refuse any and all legitimate attempts at checking up on them purely out of spite, just being all “well I’m mad at you so I want you to SUFFER, OLD MAN, yeah, go ahead and wonder if I’m dead or not! Suck it!”
Like, even Jason or Dick at their ‘pettiest’ - I think most people would agree that its more that they’re characterized as WANTING to hear Bruce express actual concern for them....and only getting as pissed as they do because Bruce just flat out refuses to do so and defaults to taking measures that don’t treat them as having any kind of competence, maturity or autonomy of their own....and thus are virtually indistinguishable from actions taken purely out of a desire to control everything around him, rather than a father just being concerned for his kids. 
Even when they’re at their most spiteful in regards to not wanting Bruce to know what’s going on with them, its born of an undercurrent of hurt, I maintain, as they’re really mostly just pissed off that there’s even a question of whether Bruce actually cares or Bruce is just being controlling. Because kids shouldn’t HAVE to read between the lines and interpret surveillance tactics as parental concern just to even FEEL like their dad gives a damn, because their dad just flat out refuses to come out and SAY it.
Like, that’s not a big ask, at all, and thus its not something any of the kids are at all unreasonable in wanting and yes, even expecting from their father. Which makes it really obnoxious and one-sided when they’re implicitly painted as being unreasonable for wanting this, because a narrative or headcanon has just zoomed past “calling them on the phone and asking them how their day was like a normal person” as if it was never even an option for Bruce in the first place. Like it was just a given that he had to go full Operation: Periscope In the Plumbing to scout out their current state of health. And there was no sense in wasting time with like, an in person drop-in visit to say hey, haven’t seen you in awhile and I miss you and just want to make sure you’re doing alright and don’t need anything.
(Ever notice how many fics treat it as a given that Bruce always makes the kids come to him and this is normal and reasonable and fine, for him to never venture forth from his manor in search of them.....except in rare cases where its often almost framed as though a visit from Bruce is codenamed “I Can’t Believe I’m Having To Resort To Coming To Your Place Because You Won’t Just Come To Mine Like A Good Son Would?” Just saying).
But yeah.....the problem is never, and has never been, Bruce caring about his kids and being concerned and willing to go to any length to make sure they’re okay or be reassured of this.
The problem is when its implicitly treated as though Bruce launching operation SPY ON MY KIDS LIKE A GOOD DAD DOES as his step one is like, more reasonable and understandable and just BETTER...as opposed to......just being like “Alexa, call my kids” first instead.
Like....no. That is backwards. That is not Good-Dadding. That is Creeper-Dadding. Bruce’s kids are one hundred thousand million bajillion times valid for being like WOW COULD YOU JUST NOT in response to this, because aside from the whole issue of how “is this totalitarianism or just good parenting” should not be something that’s actually in question and needs distinguishing, like.....there is a very real, very understandable (and for some of us) very relatable element of “I am also feeling all the hurt and resentment that you’d rather bug my apartment or hack my phone than just fucking TALK TO ME LIKE A HUMAN BEING and treat me like you place a modicum of trust and respect on any answers I give from my place of Being an Adult Who Is Actually More Than A Little Bit Competent and Responsible, Not That You’ve Noticed Apparently.
Also, a good exercise here would be like, before deciding on a course of action for Bruce in regards to one of his kids, first imagining another character you aren’t as predisposed towards, like, deciding on that exact same course of action in regards to that exact same kid.
For an example, look at the time Tim left Gotham in Red Robin and wasn’t speaking to Dick, and how Dick still very much was concerned about him and wanted to check up on him.
Look at how even just Dick asking Tim’s friends like Steph and Cassie to check in on him for Dick was characterized by a lot of people.
Now imagine if Dick had been like “well, Tim’s not speaking to me no matter how much I try to apologize to him, but I’m still really worried and concerned about his safety and well-being, and also I am his big brother and I know what’s best for him....so I am going to bug his phone and ask Raven to spy on him magically and also maybe ask Superman to occasionally lurk in the bushes outside his hotel room and peep in on him and report back on his breathing patterns like a creeper BUT ONLY BECAUSE I TOTALLY CARE AND THUS NONE OF THIS IS UNREASONABLE.”
Like......hmm. Does that fly with most people? Would that go over at all well, or do you think that maybe Tim might have pitched the mother of all unholy temper tantrums upon hearing that Dick had done any of this let alone all of this....AND BEEN COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED IN PITCHING SAID FIT ABOUT DICK’S CHOICES HERE?
Would this be at all defensible on Dick’s side of things, even with it being 100% true and even taken for granted that he only did this because he genuinely loves his brother and was genuinely worried about how he was doing and hell, even IF it was genuinely a given that Tim was not going to give him the time of day no matter how he went about asking Tim to just check back in occasionally to let Dick know he was still alive and alright?
Or would it - even in light of all that - still be seen and construed as invasive, infantilizing and disrespectful of Tim’s rights to privacy and self-determination, not to mention his capabilities in looking out for himself?
Now......swap a few characters in and out of the key slots here.
Imagine Bruce in Dick’s place here, enacting any or all of the above or even actions slightly less hyperbolic but no less intrusive or boundary-crossing.
Would any of those actions be any LESS invasive, infantilizing or disrespectful of Tim’s rights to privacy and self-determination, as well as his capabilities....just because Bruce is his father and not his brother?
See what I mean?
Its never at all an issue that Bruce loves his kids and is concerned about their safety, nor is it actually untrue that his kids aren’t stubborn and headstrong.
The only actual issue is when its framed as though all of this means that Bruce skipping to “launch drones from Batcave” before he even TRIES “hit speed-dial on phone”....
Is both valid and necessary, and thus a sign of a Good Dad....rather than just Bruce’s own fears of being rejected or turned away by his kids. Or an example of his own flaws with interpersonal communication rather than evidence of his kids being completely unreasonable little assholes with a lifelong commitment to Suck It Dad, Yes Even IF You’re Legitimately Worried I Might Be Dead Right Now.
Et cetera, et cetera.
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stitchandani · 3 years ago
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How would you say the continuity for the franchise would be? Neither the movies, show, or even anime have a good timeline to set their events within. The show and anime basically have no connection between their episodes as well. Would your hypothetical Stitch and Ani be similar?
This is a fantastic question. ArtistIssues and I have hashed it out together before, actually. We believe the continuity of the shows (Lilo and Stitch: The Series, Stitch and Ai, and the Stitch! anime) and films (Lilo and Stitch, Lilo and Stitch 2: Stitch Has A Glitch, Stitch! the Movie, and Leroy and Stitch), as well as the Experiment 626 video game are all connected and do have a continuity that can work (especially if you ignore really poor writing choices in the anime, which is necessary 90% of the time you're watching it, really, because the Japanese dub was operating as if what happened with Yuna was an AU, not a continuation, while the English dub behaved as though it was all very awkwardly tied together).
THIS WILL BE LONG! Read more under the cut.
[[First let me say, since you asked if Stitch and Ani would hypothetically be detached, the answer is no because: Stitch and Ani is set up in such a way that it can be connected to the anime (and is without question definitely connected to the series and previous films), but it can also be disconnected from it. There is, for all intents and purposes, no Yuna in Stitch and Ani; we don't even mention her. There's nothing to indicate the Experiments ever left their One True Places, or that Hamsterviel broke out of prison, or that Gantu was fired a second time because of karaoke (yuck). In fact, none of that is canon in Stitch and Ani. We can still say that Lilo and Stitch had a falling out when she went to college. We can still say, too, that Stitch and the others left for a while, but maybe they didn't end up in Japan. If it were a proper show on Disney+ or something, that's probably how it would go. No ties to anything but the first half of the franchise, which ended with Leroy and Stitch.]] "How would you say the continuity for the franchise would be?" Well! The continuity for the franchise, as far as we can tell, seems to go like this:
0. Experiment 626 Video Game
1. Lilo and Stitch 2. Lilo and Stitch 2: Stitch Has A Glitch [note: Lilo is said to be 7 in this film; therefore this film takes place either one year or two years after the events of the first film, which is why the house seems like it's not fully built/everyone isn't in their permanent rooms yet if you look closely]
3. The Origin of Stitch short
4. Stitch! the Movie 5. Lilo and Stitch: The Series [note: Lilo would be 9, going on 10, by the end of this film, which is jarring but her voice definitely shows it, plus the characters repeatedly say that the events of the series took up 3 years of their lives] 6. Leroy and Stitch 7. Stitch and Ai [many things point to this series having taken place soon after Leroy and Stitch; particularly the dialogue between Jumba and the Galactic Federation council, the Grand Councilwoman stating that Stitch had been allowed to live on Hawaii for "many years", but all his flashbacks include Lilo still being a child, so it can't have been far off from Leroy and Stitch. Also, the show is meant to have happened briefly, with the plan being that Stitch would eventually return to Hawaii with Ai's help] 8. Stitch! anime [note: Many people are okay with thinking the anime is non-canon and none of it happened, and I'm one of them, though you can't for sure find a direct quote from Chris Sanders discounting it. So for the purposes of fairness and inclusion I'll proceed as if it is, in fact, canon] 9. Stitch and Ani Now, I know the majority of the things in the anime just don't make sense in terms of continuity, and for those things, you sorta just have to...either ignore them? or decide that it all has to do with the black hole Jumba and Stitch got sucked into in the pilot episode. Jumba says, almost as a covering-all-your-bases kinda thing, that it could spit them out anywhere in time or space, "even alternate universe". [That actually plays a slight role in Stitch and Ani, too.] As for Stitch and Ai, the biggest continuity error I can find is Stitch having some OP new ability. Which is fine, because it can easily be shut down later. Stitch Has a Glitch is harder, specifically because Pleakley goes to the beach with David in it, and if this is to take place before the series (it clearly is, for so many reasons) then it wouldn't make sense in Stitch! the Movie for Pleakley to say at the beginning that it's his "very first day at an Earth beach". Actually, that just makes no sense for any of the things beforehand, because in the first movie he's on the beach at least twice. So. Silly writers! Also, I know the house doesn't look right in the second film if you compare it to what it is in the series, but it's easy enough to just observe and realize that they're all kinda still figuring out where everyone goes in that house. ((I can write more on this in another post if you want, and probably will, so keep an eye out.)) Experiment 626 isn't too tricky to explain, either, even though it seems that Stitch Has a Glitch kinda made it obsolete. But ArtistIssues can provide details on that! As for Stitch and Ani, it works completely whether the anime/Stitch and Ai are canon or not. All you have to do is say that Lilo went to college, got a boyfriend, married him, had a kid, and at some point during the end of her college time, she and Stitch had a misunderstanding and he left. And Jumba went to get him and never came back, and Pleakley had already left on a research trip earlier that year. So that's not hard to say, no anime needed! For years they were separated, until one day Ani and Lilo run into him purely by chance and they're all reunited. And then Stitch and Ani truly begins. It's easy! You get all the flashbacks and characters' emotional development without having to mention Yuna or Ai or any of the spinoffs. So that's how I think it all works!
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repulsivepangolin7 · 4 years ago
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SEAL Team fic. Crush pt1
A/N: So, I recently fell into yet another wormhole and binged the first two seasons of SEAL team in less time than I should have used to watch it. I figured out a few things: 1. This show is freaking awesome once you get your bearings. 2. Sonny is cool, I dig him. 3. I love Full Metal (Like seriously, what a highly qualified dork!) And 4. There is NOT ENOUGH Scott Carter (Full Metal) fanfiction.
Oh, and as some of you MIGHT know… I’m too hung up on H/C and whump… Word count: 1860
You forget to be scared after a while. That was the truth for some of them at least. The problem wasn’t when you were neck deep in a FUBAR situation, it was when you were trying to get some shut-eye at home in your own bed. You took a deep breath and pushed the fear down and moved on.
But one thing was for sure, life had an impeccable way of telling you to take a breather every once in a while. Nature’s way of telling you to slow down a bit. A sucking chest wound, an arterial bleed, blood loss, a massive concussion. You know, stuff like that.
He tried getting his bearings as the dust settled. Last thing he remembered was someone yelling ‘incoming’ and diving for cover.
His sight was blurred and all sound seemed warped. His ears was ringing and his head was spinning, but it was nothing compared to the immense pain that was his left leg.
He forced himself up on his elbows, positive he was going to hurl as the world tilted on its axis. The sight that met him didn’t help too much.
One of the concrete walls had caved and landed on his leg. He barely stopped himself from trying to tug his leg free, he knew damn well it wouldn’t budge and all that would happen was that the pain would tenfold and he would probably do more damage to his leg than there already was.
Blood was soaking his tactical pants right above where the concrete block ended. First thing needing to happen was a tourniquet, then he had to get that thing off of his leg.
He barely noticed Bravo 1 ordering a radio check and sit rep before the fifth time he called him up by his nickname.
“Yeah. I’m here. Hear you Lima Charlie.” He sucked some air through his teeth, “My leg’s stuck under some rubble. Think I busted it.”
“Do you need assistance getting loose?”
“A-firm.” he took a second look at the bloody mess under the block of concrete, “Gonna need a tourniquet and help moving as well.”
“Okay, you’ve got it.” Jason paused, “Bravo 4, this is Bravo 1, you’re closest to Full Metal. Can you get to him? Out.”
“Bravo 1, Bravo 4. Sure can! Out.”
 *          *          *
 “Oh, damn…” Trent grumbled as soon as he had a visual on Full Metal, “How bad is it brother?”
“Think my leg is crushed.”
“Actual crushed?”
“Worse than just a break…” Metal gave a minimal shrug, but the pain written all over his features spoke volumes, “Hurts like hell.”
Trent nodded as he sat down beside Full Metal. “Tourniquet first. Then we’ll figure out how to move this.”
Full Metal nodded a bit, “I will be of minimal help during that part of this OP.”
“What? When we’re moving the block of concrete?”
He grimaced, “Something tells me whatever pain I’m experiencing right now is just a taste test of what’s to come once the initial shock wears off and my leg actually gets jostled.”
“I think you might be right, buddy.” Trent nodded, “You might want to administer at least 10mg of morphine before we start.”
“Already did.” Metal answered and reached for the spent auto-injector pen in order to wave it around and show it to Trent.
“Is it enough?” he asked as he dug a tourniquet out of his gear.
“Look at my leg. What do you think?” Full Metal growled, “Not gonna take anymore just yet, I’m gonna need it later as well.”
“Pretty sure the rest of us will be willing to share ours.”
“I don’t want to take so much one of you will actually have to keep an eye on me, to monitor for overdose.”
“I think you’re big enough to handle 20mg of morphine.” Trent shrugged as he leaned forward in order to wrap the tourniquet around Full Metal’s thigh, “This is gonna hurt…”
Full Metal nodded and placed his gloved knuckled between his teeth.
Trent wasn’t surprised when Full Metal suddenly went lax. He didn’t know the full extent of his injury, but one thing was for sure, it had to be painful as all hell. Full Metal wasn’t exactly one to fuzz over nothing, actually, he wasn’t one to fuzz over anything as far as Trent knew him. And syncope was a natural response to pain.
“Bravo 1, this is Bravo 4. We need additional manpower here to get Full Metal loose. Out.”
“Bravo 4, good copy. You think you’ll get him loose if Bravo 2 and 3 join up?”
Trent looked over the rubble and Full Metal, “Might need more. I estimate this block of concrete weighs 2.5 metric tons. We also need someone to drag Full Metal free once we’ve got that weight off his leg. He passed out when I put on the TQ. Think he’s coming back around now…”
“Okay, Bravo 5 you keep watch on the south corner, alert us of any movement south or east. The rest of us, help Bravo 4.”
The confirmations came in one after another.
“Havoc, this is Bravo 1. We are forced to divert from our plan, please alert us of any movement close to our position. Out.”
“Bravo 1, Good copy. Do you need anything else? Out.”
“Might need medevac. Out.”
“Site is considered a hot-zone. Is it critical? Out?”
“Haven’t got eyes on yet. Stand by for further information. Out.”
 *          *          *
 Clay, Sonny, Ray and Jason managed to lift the concrete block enough for Trent to pull Full Metal out from under it. None of them surprised when the big guy passed out for a second time.
The guys let go of the slab and it fell down, resting on some other rubble 3 or 4 inches off the ground.
“Let’s try to check and stabilize his leg while he’s still unconscious.” Trent called out as he started cutting away at the fabric of Full Metal’s pants. “Clay, find quickclot combat gauze, tape and regular gauze. Sonny, find cravats or anything that can be used to splint his left leg against his right leg. Jason and Ray, anything that can be used as cushioning between his legs and between his left leg and the cravats.”
They all hurried to their tasks.
“How does it look?”
“Open fracture above his ankle and below his knee. Multiple deformities from knee down. Lots of soft tissue damage. He needs to get proper medical attention, he’s at high risk for crush syndrome.” Trent rattled off as he took the things Clay handed him, “Clay, can you find Sodium Bicarbonate, a peripheral IV line and a FAST1.”
“Sodium Bicarb, peripheral IV line and FAST1.” Clay nodded, “Got it.”
*          *          *
 He woke up to one of Trent’s thighs on each side of his head, not exactly his favorite position.
“Heya buddy, really hoped you would be out for 30 seconds more…” his teammate winked down at him. “I’m just gonna place a FAST1. Already have an orange IV running in your left arm. How are you feeling?”
“-Like I got run over by a wall.” Full Metal answered, trying to mask a grimace, “How’s my leg?”
“Crush injury, like you predicted. You’ve still got a pulse distal to most of the injuries, if you wondered about that. Have sodium bicarb trickling into that IV you have in your arm. We’re waiting for medevac, tricky situation with this still being a hot-zone.”
Metal nodded, “But I guess you think I need it?”
Trent nodded, “The sooner the better. But, I also think you could handle a couple of hours delay. I just want to avoid that if possible. We managed to cover the worst gashes and stabilize your left leg against your right while you were out of it.”
Full Metal nodded a bit, taking in the information. “So. Crush injury. Muscle mass gets damaged, releases toxins. Clogs up kidneys. Renal failure. Am I right?” Full Metal met Trent’s eyes.
“Kinda. But that’s what the sodium bicarb is for.” Trent winked, “That, and they’ll probably load you up with saline once medevac gets here. How’s your pain?”
“Way too damn high.” he rolled his eyes a little, “7, I guess.”
“I’d guess 8 or 9…” Trent shrugged, “You passed out. Twice.”
“Probably won’t be the last time either.”
Trent nodded, “But, just looking at you and listening to you. I’d guess about a 4.”
“That’s why we call him Full Metal…” Sonny winked as he came into Metal’s view as well, “Seriously man, you are allowed to show that this hurts. I would’ve sounded like an air-raid alert. How are ya?”
Full Metal shook his head a bit, “Not good.”
“Maybe you should take that second injector…” Trent said as he readied the FAST1 introducer, “No need for you to suffer more than necessary.”
“You said it yourself. This is still a hot-zone. Medevac has unknown ETA.” Full Metal swallowed hard, “Might be here in 15 mikes, might take 6 hours. Or more. Have to save some for later.”
“We’ve got plenty.” Sonny said as he squeezed his shoulder, “You’re in pain. A lot of it.”
“I’m nauseous enough already.” Full Metal shot back, “Can’t remember morphine helping any in that department.”
“No, but it’ll help with the pain. And that might ease nausea.” Trent quipped back as he placed the introducer against Full Metal’s skin, “Ready?”
He got a short nod in return and pushed the introducer down.
The operator on the ground let out a single expletive and gritted his teeth.
“Sorry about that…”
“We’re good.” Full Metal nodded and held his fist up for Trent to bump it.
All of the sudden their earpieces buzzed on, “Bravo team, this is Havoc. Looks like we’ve a group of 4, potentially 5, Tango’s headed your way in a pickup with a mounted machine gun.”
Jason replied. The guys got their orders and quickly followed through.
“Bravo 1, this is Bravo 5, I have eyes on the pickup. Should I engage? Out.”
 *          *          *
 By the time Trent, Sonny and Clay had carried Full Metal to safety, the building they were in was once again taking heavy fire.
This time, Full Metal hadn’t passed out due to pain from being jostled. Probably because the injection had been given the time to reach full effect.
“You think you’ll be okay down here by yourself?” Sonny asked as he helped Metal lean up against his backpack.
Full Metal nodded slightly, his eyes squeezed closed as he prayed for the pain to pass.
“Hey, Full Metal…”
“Yeah?”
“Are you going to be okay down here by yourself?”
He nodded a bit more, “Yeah. As soon as I stop feeling like I’m gonna pass out.”
“Do you want me to stay here with you?” Sonny asked, “Or Clay, or Trent…”
“No-NO…” Full Metal shook his head, “I’m a big boy. Can take care of myself.”
Trent raised an eyebrow, “Alright, big boy… Just radio if you change your mind.”
Full Metal raised his thumb in order to show that the message was received and understood.
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idealisticrealism · 6 years ago
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Blindspot 4x03
Had a busy Halloween week (my first ever!) so I’m extra late today. Also changed my format slightly bc what is consistency?
Reade-- What is there to say, other than he looks super cute covered in paint? It’s kinda weird that the usual ‘main team’ has barely been seen this whole ep-- and even then, mostly only through brief video calls or over the comms. And Reade wasn’t even heard from at all during the actual bomb disarming. Honestly though…. I’m kinda down with that. As much as I love the others, we all know Rich and Patterson are my Dream Team lol
Zapata-- yep there’s Zapata, jogging slowly away from her problems as usual lol. Seriously though what is she doing being apprenticed to a literal evil witch EXPLAIN GERO. Ugh I feel so bad for her but a little bit ‘serves you right’ at the same time. Though lbr I just want her to come homeeeee
Weller-- I feel like this dude has been on the edge of tears for like a year. Poor guy. But omg does he make a cuuuute Jackson Pollock lol. I love him being all serious and sarcastic towards Madeline while literally covered in paint and feathers. I feel like the real mystery of this ep is HOW DOES IT MAKE HIM HOTTER. Someone please explain. Also oooh he cannot be happy about being stuck in the station while ‘Jane’ is zooming away on a doomed train. ALSO SPEAKING OF WHICH, dude the bomb is on one of the lines past the apartment I lived in back in September. I got off at that station multiple times aaaahhhhhh this is so cool. Ugh now he’s back at the apartment crying over Jane again ahah. Seems like all the poor dude does these days is hug her and cry. But wait, maybe not! Ooooh he followed her and he has got his suspicion on. THERE’S the badass agent we’ve been missing!
Remi-- I feel like she actually feels a tiny bit bad that she made Weller cry?? Lol girl’s supposed to be killing him and she has a hard time even seeing him cry. Lbr she’s gonna fall for him despite herself, his mix of badass agent and suburban dad is apparently just irresistible to any iteration of her being lol. Tbh I loved the sequence of her disarming the bomb over the comms-- in most eps we would be with her and Weller and Reade out in the field and only hearing the home team over the comms, I loved seeing this turnabout. Also ugh she nearly lashes out at Weller when he lifts her hand bc she’s such an abused little puppy that she doesn’t know anything but coldness or punishment and I think she was startled and secretly pleased to be greeted with cheers and hailed as a hero. Ugh Remi honey you’re gonna grow to love it here. “... right under our noses, putting on a friendly face, pretending to be the hero” I guess she’s seeing some similarities between herself and Madeline lol. And then oooh on the couch, Roman’s like the devil on the shoulder trying to pull her back into the deep shadows of the dark side and then Weller appears and shines all his love and support all over her and Roman disappears for a moment. I see what you’re doing here Gero…. Also lol Remi must be surprised at how easily she can make Weller cry haha
Patterson-- okay firstly, how dare some guy make out with my baby and not know her name. Also, I just have mixed feelings about the making out in general but I am all about supporting my precious queen. THen I was like ‘pfft she won’t say her name’ and then SHE SAID HER NAME AND I SCREAMED and then it hit me that she was almost definitely undercover and I was like ‘oh a fake name of course, shit Gero you got me well done’ and then turns out it wasn’t an op but a whole different kind of ‘undercovers’ hahahahaha. Well good on you girl I support you and all your choices. BUT WAS IT A FAKE NAME OR NO??? Omg okay yes it was, thanks for the heart attack Gero. Is anyone else having early Grey’s Anatomy flashbacks rn lol or is that just me haha. Also flustered Patterson is the most adorable Patterson, fight me on it.Ugh poor girl cannot seem to catch a break this ep and you KNOW Rich is deliberately playing with her lol. But also I mean c’mon writers, Patterson is a professional agent, I can see her being flustered to start but let’s not act like she wouldn’t suck it up and focus on her job pretty quick. Also omg *dead serious voice* “I can already tell you, that I’m gonna scoff” is one of the best lines of the episode and probably the entire show lol. “Okay get to the part where you solved it. Oh my god I just sounded like Weller” hahaha well  he is your big bro, so makes sense you’d pick up a few traits lol. Great throwback to the ‘where math is done’ line too writers, nice work. Also wow the way she just went toe-to-toe with Weitz… why do I ship it a tiny bit lol?? And I also kinda ship her with Lincoln. Get it, girl!
Rich-- how was him being like ‘Hey guys here’s the terrorist’s address okay be careful bye’ one of the funniest things he’s ever done??? I stg whoever writes Rich needs to be my new best friend. Though tbh he does actually seem almost a touch subdued in this first scene, without that usual devilish gleam in his eyes… maybe he’s trying to show he can be both useful AND mature so they don’t actually decide to replace him with Boston haha. “I didn’t say magic, I’m not seven, I said magical cures’ hahahaha my baby. And he’s so excited to brief the recruits ugh. And then omg “sounds like the greatest takedown in FBI history I’m so sorry I missed it” aren’t we all, buddy lol. Also ugh him and his little recruit ducklings LET ME DIE. “There’s a bomber! Who bombs!” literally if someone who had Rich’s sense of humour and talked like he talks were to appear in my life I would marry them on the spot. “He’s probably an angry man with a victim complex, that’s a dangerous combination” OKAY EVERYONE LET’S FACE IT THE BOMBER GUYS CAN GO HOME BECAUSE RICH JUST DROPPED THE BIGGEST BOMB OF THE EPISODE RIGHT THERE. “Oh yeah, would an unprofessional do something like this??” The answer is yes and also marry me. And ugh he says his main reason for going after the book of secrets is because Jane is dying ughhhhh he is too good for this worldddd. Also wtf was that weird cackle when describing Roman that was hilarious. “It’s been very evident all day. Also I am like a sex-narc and you are terrible at lying” EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS MAN AND THIS FRIENDSHIP IS THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD. “It’s very unprofessional, I think that’s what thrills me the most actually” hahahahaha. “This is my smug face, I save it for special occasions” hahahaaha c’mon no he does not, that’s just his normal face but THIS is why I felt he seemed more serious than usual, it was so his face could be extra smug later hahahaha. And the victory dance??? “You and me, Ride or Die”?? Let’s be real I am SO ride or die for these two there is literally nothing more important than this friendship aaaaaaaahhhhhh
Weitz-- I love this sleazy bastard and his weird love/hate feelings towards Zapata and his semi-corrupt work ethic lol. Also omg yasss he told them all about Zapata leaking info to Carter! I wondered if that would ever come out. And omg he’s Patterson’s hookup’s uncle THIS EP IS RIDICULOUS AND I LOVE IT. Also oh no “What am I saying, special treatment’s fine” was hilarious, like uh oh no way am I starting to love Weitz??? I am having feelings about a Patterson/Rich/Weitz dream team haha. “Might be our only shot at [Madeline], so it is unfortunate that you look like that” how does this show do so many characters with their own distinctive styles of sass I love it so much. Also, show of hands, who thinks this guy is on some kind of uppers because honestly at this stage I’m convinced haha. He’s especially nuts when he comes in to give Patterson the special computer-- which I’m sure that a) she already would have had one of, and b) someone in his postion would have just had someone deliver for him. Although it does seem like he makes any excuse to come hang out and be bizarre. He’s the boss I wish I had lol. Especially if I happened to be related to him bc wow there is some unabashed nepotism happening right here haha. Oh dear he seems to be coming down off his high right now and is getting grumpy. Better call his assistant to bring his next hit lol. Also “CAN YOU JUST CHECK HIS WORK PLEASE” clearly withdrawing-Weitz has no time for workplace flirting hahahaha. And ugh then Patterson stands up to him and he listens to her and holy shit that was a big amount of trust, if they were wrong the whole city is gonna turn on him for letting so many more people die than was necessary. Looks like he doesn’t just always do what protects his own ass??
Afreen-- you are a queen and I love you
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blueinkblot · 7 years ago
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AstroMark and Alien Queen Peebles
I remembered this idea I had months ago. I wrote out about ten pages of the story (and the plot is kinda rushed, I’m not gonna lie) but I like the premise so I’m gonna share it with y’all. I live for Mark/Amy cuteness and I love that they make each other happy. :)
the squad: @markired @darkdorkmorks @fear-is-nameless @seanmcloughlin @ego-surveillance-squad @lum1natrix @viostormcaller @purrtlepuff @secretatotiusmundi
“Your plants are coming along well, Mark,” Kathryn said as the astronaut entered the room.
“How did you - oh, right. The cameras.”
“I take every moment of practice I can get,” she answered with a smile, gesticulating at the wide panels at which she sat. “I have no doubt once you’re up there you’ll be dodging the cameras just to mess with us.”
“Hey, I vlog as well,” he said. “People like seeing into the life of an astronaut without actually being an astronaut.”
“Alright, Mister Celebrity,” she called as he left the room.
“Space to base, space to base,” a voice spoke from a comm board, and Mark slid into the chair.
“This is base,” he answered. “What’s up?”
“‘Ey, Mark!”
Floating upside down in the camera’s frame was Tyler, one of the astronauts with whom Mark had trained
“Tyler! How are ya? How’s the bus?”
“It’s pretty good! I finally met Alexei, he’s chill.”
Just as Tyler said this, an astronaut with a Russian flag on his uniform floated through the back of the frame.
“Alexei!” Mark called, and heard a distant shouted greeting in return.
“So when’s your next mission?” Tyler asked as he slowly turned right side up.
“I ship out in a month,” Mark answered, a dreamy smile on his face and a far-off look in his eyes. “It means Chica has to stay with Tom for a while, but NASA’s gotten new video tech for my mission so I’ll be able to chat with Chika-Bika.”
“Aw.” Tyler paused. “Did they tell you what your mission is meant to do?”
“I’m starting a station near Jupiter, or something like that,” Mark replied. “I dunno, I’m meeting with Ethan and some of the higher-ups at 14:00 hours to discuss the specifics.”
“A colony? So you’re not coming back?” A mischevious glimmer entered his eyes. “Does that mean I get your channel?”
“Noooo, I’m just starting a station so we can make more colonies, like the one on Mars.”
“Maybe I’ll go settle there when I’m old and cranky.”
“What is up, my craaaaaanky crew?”
“That’s not - staaaaahp.”
Mark looked over his shoulder and saw the bright blue hair of Ethan Nestor, an IT staff member who also made vlogs about what he did at NASA as well as some video games he played. He was a member of the team that would be helping Mark get to Jupiter.
Both Mark and Tyler laughed. “Ethan says hi,” Mark giggled, adjusting his black glasses. Ethan appeared in frame over Mark’s shoulder and Tyler’s video link stuttered as he waved back.
“We need to send new video gear up to you guys,” Ethan said. That old stuff is from when SpaceX started using their Falcon rockets.”
“Man, that long ago?”
Tyler reached towards them and picked up the camera, zooming past astronauts of all nationalities doing botany, writing programming, and 3D-printing tools that they would then toss across the ship. 
“Yeah, the stuff is sturdy but kinda shit,” Ethan answered. “We’re sending some of the new stuff with Mark, and you guys on the Space Station will be getting some in one of the next few shipments.”
“I’ve gotta go,” Mark said. “It was good to see you!”
“See you later, Mark,” Ethan said.
Mark headed off toward the conference rooms, going to the meeting.
“So, Mr. Iplier, as you already know, you’re going to be one of three crewmembers on the Cancer I mission.”
“Yep.” Mark nodded excitedly.
“We chose you not only because of your experience with and knowledge of space, but also because of your... enthusiasm.”
Part of Mark’s job was to interface with the public and explain what they were doing. Having been an engineering student, Mark was easily excited about science, especially so the exploration NASA was doing in space. In college he and several friends had also made videos of themselves playing video games, and some of them were at NASA as well. Tyler and Ethan were friends he’d made during his training and time at NASA, but Bob Muyskens and Wade Barnes had been his friends for a long time.
“Oh,” Mark said, “uh, thanks.”
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“Thus, your training. And, as you also know, you’ll be launching in a month.”
Mark leaned back in his chair. “So, where’s this station going to be?”
“You’ll be orbiting Jupiter,” one of the other higher-ups said. “Of course, this is how the Martian colony began - could we even get people and the necessary supplies there?”
“Yeah, my friend is Head of Communications on the Mars colony,” Mark said.
“Oh, Jacksepticeye?”
Both Mark and the female director turned to look at the other director. “What? I follow his channel - it’s my job.”
“Yeah, that’s him,” Mark answered after a moment. “So, I have to ask - how long is the flight to where the orbit starts?”
“Four days, two hours,” the woman answered. “But since the rocket has an autopilot and a manual control, you’ll be administered a cryo-anesthetic to speed up the journey.”
“You’re gonna knock me out? Isn’t that a little dangerous?” Mark felt nervous - he hadn’t heard any of his friends talking about being put under in their flights to their assignments.
“This is what we use when we have longer flight durations. Mars isn’t super long, so we keep the astronauts exercising and on a specific diet to keep them from weakening during travel.” The woman paused. “Actually, it’s something we developed that most universities use nowadays to allow patients to heal without doing damage to themselves.”
Mark nodded, fear assuaged somewhat.
The door banged open, and in rushed Ethan. “Sorry I’m late,” he huffed. “Director Jensen, I trust you’ve briefed Mark on the important details?”
She nodded.
“Now, Mark, Director McCullough and I will go over your transmission guidelines. Obviously, you not only do work with us as an astronaut but you’re a public figure in science and research. So we want you to keep up vlogging for the public both before your launch and once we wake you up again.”
“The base is ready for you,” Director McCullough continued, “so all that’s left is you and your crewmates, a few seed samples, and the video equipment you requested. So you’ll just be taking a standard Minerva II rocket up to the station which you’ll dock. You’ll then enter the base and the pod you used to get there, the Bellona, will become the communication pod of the station.”
Mark nodded. “Which is why I did those docking exercises so many times. I can’t be a suck-ass when it really matters.”
The directors and Ethan broke into laughter. “No, you can’t,” Director McCullough agreed. “But your statistics were promising, which makes us confident in your abilities.”
“So you do want me to keep vlogging about this?” Mark verified.
“Yeah, your most recent videos on your personal channel have gained a lot of attention and even helped our views,” Ethan answered, scrolling on a tablet. “So do a couple more before launch - I mean, you do have another month - and make sure they know about the couple of days you won’t be vlogging because of the sleepy juice.”
Mark giggled. “Sleepy juice.”
Ethan nodded, grinning. “That’s a technical term.”
There was a bit more discussion as to Mark’s duties before his launch date. Once he was fully aware of his responsibilities, Mark filled out the paperwork handed to him and left once he was done.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he turned it on and began to film.
“Hello, everybody, it’s Markiplier,” he began. “So, I just got done with a meeting, and it sounds like it’s official! I’m headed out to Jupiter, they said, and I’ll be starting a base that orbits the planet. 
“Those of you that have been with me for a while know I’ve wanted to go out into deep space for the longest time. I’ve been up to the ISS - that’s where Tyler - slash - Apocalypto is now - but I was kinda jealous of Seán when he got sent to the Mars base. But now I finally get to realize that dream, and I’m so excited. I’m gonna make a video right before we leave because I’m going to be put to sleep for the majority of the journey. You’ll also hear from me when I end up aboard the Ops station, since the docking process is kinda hard. But I wanted to let you guys know so I don’t just disappear off of the face of the Earth - heh, literally disappear! So I guess that’s all for now! I will see you guys in the next video - buhbyeeee!
Mark shut off the recording and headed back to his room to edit.
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renaroo · 7 years ago
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The Search (11/16)
Disclaimer: Red vs Blue and related characters are the property of Rooster Teeth. Warnings: Language, Canon-typical violence, Psychological manipulation and trauma Rating: T Synopsis: [Canon Divergence - Alternate S15] The Reds and Blues saved Chorus, but it has been a year and they are still missing. A motley crew has been gathered with the common goal of finding the war heroes, though the road is more troubled than anyone seems to realize.
A/N: Hey, everyone! Another update coming in right at the wire and I apologize for that but also I kinda feel like celebrating every time I make my own crazy self-imposed deadlines so actually yay! We’ve got some really ridiculous weather where i’m at right now, but not as bad as many in the US right now. If you’re affected by the current storms at all I hope you know you have my love and prayers
Special thanks to @analiarvb, @theshadowlord, MKDemigodZ-Warrior, Yin, @cobaltqueen, @secretlystephaniebrown, and a wonderful Guest for the comments and feedback!
Revelations
Carolina didn’t know who was standing in their way, and she wasn’t sure she cared. The color patterns on the armor had come to be as clear to her as Red and Blue, and the way he was quite easily sizing them up only made her more certain that he knew exactly what they were there for.
“He’s another mercenary,” Carolina determined, teeth gritting.
“Yes,” the mystery figure answered in a voice she was far from familiar with.
“Hey, fuckface, we weren’t talking to you! You’re not a part of the effing conversation!” Li��l Grif screamed shrilly.
“Were you with Felix and Locus?” Washington asked, stepping up to Carolina’s side.
Immediately, the mercenary’s head turned toward them in particular. The reaction was not nearly as calculated or calm as the rest of his overall demeanor. It was enough to send a chill down the spines of lesser soldiers.
“You,” he said thickly, hinting for the first time behind the crackle of words that he was utilizing a voice filter. “Both of you. You must be the Freelancers. Agent Carolina and Agent Washington.”
“That’s not fair,” Carolina replied sarcastically. “Here you know us, but we don’t know you.”
“I was expecting you,” the mercenary continued. “Hargrove mentioned you by name. I thought, given his concern, you would have appeared sooner.” He then turned his head just slightly, looking at the rest of the crew. “The additional company is also unexpected.”
“It can’t be more unexpected than what we feel about having to deal with yet another merc jerk,” Washington complained.
“In my business, knowing names isn’t as necessary as being known by reputation,” the mercenary acknowledged. “I would think that such a thing could be something you respect as former soldiers, but perhaps it’s been too long since you were nameless numbers in line. That ego’s the sort of thing that would get you picked up by a special ops project as flashy and at the front of the UNSC’s science division in the middle of the War while good soldiers were dying, Which means my associate’s belief that there was any commonality to find between us was gravely misplaced.”
Eyes narrowed, regulating her breathing, Carolina steadied her stance and readied her fists. “You worked with Locus and Felix then.”
“I do,” he said firmly in return.
“Did,” Carolina said, smirking under her helmet. “Something Wash and I can take at least partial credit for. But it is most definitely a did.”
Washington was entirely still beside her until she ended her clap back, then he slowly turned his head toward her in disbelief. “Really? That’s the angle of negotiation we’re going for here?” he asked.
“We have this, Wash,” she assured him.
The mercenary tilted his head ever so slightly. “Do you?”
“Yes,” Carolina said confidently. “I do.”
“Carolina, we need to talk about this,” Wash began, voice heavy with concern.
“There’s no need to talk about anything, I can handle this,” Carolina told him firmly. “I’ll handle the merc leftover, you take everyone into the temple and make sure we catch Hargrove and put an end to anything he’s trying to do with our guys in there. Because you know if this paid, loyalty-free lackey is here then the guy who bought his leash is.”
“We don’t know anything about this guy,” Washington tried to argue.
“We know he has a long ranged weapon and was stupid enough he brought it to fight against the martial arts and close combat specialist of Project Freelancer even though these bastards like to go and act like they know every little thing in our personal dossiers,” Carolina snapped.
Washington seemed intent on not moving for a moment, continuing to stare Carolina down as if it would mean anything.
But, as always, Li’l Grif was around to break the ice of any situation.
“Okay, no one has a fucking clue what the eff you’re talking about! Can we just go in where it’s not raining ice!?” she screeched.
Dylan Andrews turned and glanced in Kai’s direction. “You mean snow?”
“Hey, listen, lady, I know what the fuck I said, because I just said it,” she lashed out in return. “And you’re a field reporter? Fuck off, dude. Go back to anchoring for cable with those lame ass assessments.”
For a moment, everyone turned to look at Kai in shock at that sick burn. Including the mercenary.
“Fuck, maybe I should just let you all continue to roast each other alive, make my job easier,” he said. “But, probably knowing what a son of a bitch I’m working for, he’d find that as a loophole for not paying me.”
“What the hell is with you mercenaries and televisions the size of billboards?” Washington asked, baffled and unimpressed.
“Televisions? Fuck, no. That sounds like something Felix would want.” the mercenary replied candidly.
“And you?” Carolina pressed.
“Mortgage payments,” he replied flatly. “Also the missus could always use a larger minivan. So, you know, there’s always that to look forward to.”
“That almost sounds mundane by lethal mercenary standards,” Carolina admitted.
“Well, when you spend your first ten years of adult life being taught a skill set only useful for a war that ends halfway through it, it helps to pay the bills to work with what you’ve got,” he said flatly.
“Fuck that, your career counselor sucked ass,” Kai responded. “Did you even consider joining a circus? You could always work really hard at it and be, like, the two-ton man. I thought for sure that my brother was going to do that but he had to go and register for college and put himself on the map to get drafted. Fucking idiot nerd idiot.”
Junior turned and let out a honk toward Kai.
“Oh, I’m a sword swallower,” Kai answered. “Been working on that one for a long time. It helps when you suck enough dick to never have a gag reflex again. I don’t think I can even throw up with alcohol poisoning anymore.”
“Wash, get everyone out of here! Now!” Carolina barked at him before going stiff and looking at Kaikaina. “Wait. What.”
Before the moment could be responded to appropriately, however, the black and purple mercenary was on her and suddenly, in the blink of an eye, the butt of his sniper rifle was crashing into her helmet right along the jawline. It was a thunderous crack that was loud enough to send her stumbling back into the snow, barely able to keep balance but still staying on her feet through sheer force of will.
The mercenary stood his ground. “I prefer ranged weapons because distance delivers a challenge. It doesn’t mean I’m unfamiliar with close quarters combat,” he informed her. “It’s a rookie mistake to size an opponent up and think otherwise.”
There was a deathly silence between their group and the mercenary for a few long, heavy beats.
“Wash,” Carolina said darkly.
“Carolina, just—“ he tried to interject, but Carolina was so beyond that point of reason anymore.
“Take everyone inside. Make the rescue,” she ordered in a hiss. “I’m going to go positively ape in a moment and it’s not rated low enough to be seen by minors.”
“I want it on record that I’m perfectly legal, doctor. And I’m pretty sure that includes, like, drinking and porno rentals,” Li’l Grif spoke up again. “So. Y’know. You can’t tell me not to do that, Officer Washington!”
“Kai, I have positively no interest in your porn and dildos. Least of all right now,” Wash warned angrily.
Carolina could see in the way the mercenary’s shoulders were lining up, the way he was slowly beginning to circle left, that her challenge had been accepted. Before things could heat up further, she turned to all of them and screamed at the top of her lungs.
“GET IN THE GODDAMN TEMPLE NOW OR YOU’RE GOING TO GET IN MY WAY. GO!”
In rare form for her crew, they all scrambled to get out of the way of Carolina and the mercenary. Even though Washington visibly hesitated, the moment Kaikaina and Junior passed him, he followed through. He had his priorities straight, after all. Just as Carolina had hers.
“If  you’ve read my records then you must know how this is going to go,” she said, rolling her shoulders. She needed to give everyone at least some time to enter the temple so they wouldn’t be foolish enough to step back out and get caught in the crossfire.
If fighting Felix and Locus had taught her anything, it was that these rank mercenaries weren’t something to be taken lightly. As much as her pride would like to deny it.
“I have read them. And they are impressive,” the mercenary assured her. “And judging by you sending your group ahead you’re not taking me lightly either. I appreciate that. Not everyone takes me as seriously at first glance. I’ve stuck to the shadows so long that my reputation hasn’t met the bile of my associates.”
“Right, so you’ve made it clear,” Carolina said lowly. “Guess I should be impressed that someone I’ve never heard of has rubbed shoulders with the two genocidal monsters that we kicked the asses of back on Chorus. But really it just makes me find you despicable.”
“Guilty by association,” he replied. “I can respect that. Though, if I were to judge by the company you keep… Your carry through could use some work.”
“Well, you’ve only got me to judge right now. And I’ve only got you,” she replied. “What name do you need on your tombstone?”
He laughed. “Let’s stick with Siris,” he replied. “At least for now.”
“Fine, Siris,” she replied before lunging forward without warning. “Tell your buddy Felix hi for me when you meet him in hell!”
The speed boost had activated a split second after her first foot left the ground —something minute and without consequence to nearly anyone else in the entire galaxy. But Carolina was aware of it. Horrendously so.
Her natural reflexes would never match that of a living smart AI, one that could preemptively begin her suit’s enhancements within moments of conceptualizing them. Even with Carolina’s spine being plugged into her suit, it was still slower than having the mindful direction of Epsilon there, firmly moving in task and even faster than her.
And it was without that impossible reflex, within that hair’s thin second of time, that Carolina could see that her lunge hadn’t been the first move of the battle.
Siris was already in action, dipping down beneath Carolina’s first strike and backing away from her second.
Everything about the mercenary read long range combat skills, but he did the unexpected by being the first to close in the space. And more specifically, he had closed into her personal space. And in defining the boundaries of their battle, he was quickly taking control of the whole fight.
Carolina released a frustrated growl, rotating pivot feet in order to conduct a quick snap kick to either land on Siris or at the very least drive him further back from her space. She needed the space and, more importantly, the momentum to really take advantage of battle.
Either Siris was even less familiar with close combat than his body language portrayed, or he was genuinely just fucking with her. She was beginning to think it was the latter because even as the snap kick only led to him laying low to the ground and avoiding being hit, he wasn’t making all that many moves against her.
Sure, her defenses were up and she was ready with each move to block and cover her openings, but he wasn’t even trying to go for them regardless.
Then, as Carolina began to punch down at the back of her adversary, he made his move.
Holding onto the butt of his sniper rifle, Siris swept his weapon as quick as a whip, contacting with the ankle of the foot Carolina was using to hold herself up and balanced.
Despite herself, Carolina fell forward with the simple maneuver.
Thinking fast, she tucked into a roll the moment she hit the snow covered ground and rolled from her fall over onto her feet.
Realizing that left Siris with her back open, she glanced just enough over her shoulders to have a peripheral on him. And just as she suspected, he was coming at her with a kick of his own. Still, she kept her cool.
She could make do with that.
The moment Siris closed in, Carolina grabbed onto his legal the ankle and brought him over her shoulders and dow, as hard as she feasibly could, slammed him back first into the ground.
Even with his helmet on and the filters heavily modifying his voice, Siris his the ground with the air spilling from his lungs.
It gave Carolina something to smirk about as she straddled Siris’ chest and  began punching his helmet for good measure. “Where!” she snarled between hits, “Are! They!” she stopped long enough to grab his shoulders hard and shove him back against the ground. “Tell me!”
“Who?” Siris coughed out, looking at her through his visor almost defiantly. “Do you mean the Reds and Blues? Did you really come all this way for them?”
“Of course I did!” she yelled at him grotesquely.
“Or do you mean the AI Epsilon?” he asked.
Immediately, Carolina froze in place. Even if she didn’t mean to, her entire body revolted against her as she looked down at Siris with wide open eyes.
“Because those two things have very, very different answers,” he continued lowly. “And if you came all this way thinking you’d get one without the other… well, things are going to be a lot harder on you for the trip back.”
“What. Do  you. Know?” she spat out at him.
Siris tilted his head. “You did come for the AI. Do the others know?”
“What? What do they need to know?!” Carolina shook him again angrily, leading to Siris shaking his head almost in pity. 
“I know that there’s more than just good virtue behind your need to get back your AI, Agent Carolina,” Siris explained darkly. “I familiarized myself with your records, no doubt. But even more than that, I familiarized myself with everything I could find on you since leaving Project Freelancer, including the abilities you put on display when fighting my accomplices. You’re impressive, skillful. But you’ve learned a reliance you never had before. I don’t know if it’s from having two AI stuck in your head by the end of the program or if it’s from the past year of letting your AI buddy take too much responsibility for you, but you improved drastically with AI.”
Without warning, in an impossible maneuver, somehow Siris managed to kick up his right knee impossibly high, slamming into the small of Carolina’s back and sending her face forward into the snow behind them.
“But now without AI, you’re even slower than your PFL records,” he continued.
“How the hell did you—“ Carolina began, turning just in time to see sparks flying from the very leg that had kicked her at the impossible angle.
Siri didn’t so much as flinch, reaching down and clicking the leg back into place. “You Freelancers aren’t the only ones with enhancements,” he informed her before taking the robotic leg and bringing it down on her helmet.
Emily Grey, MD, PhD, DVM, DACVIM, DACVP, et al. was unaccustomed to the idea of not being smart enough or fast enough or intimidating enough to not solve a problem which was right in front of her face. And she was particularly not used to feeling that way when the weight of dependence was on her — not just of her friends and travel companions, but of all of Chorus.
Being a doctor in an unending civil war might have numbed others to the sense of failure, but for Doctor Grey it only heightened her sense of aspiration.
If there was a happy ending to be found among all the refuse they were currently going through, by god she intended to lead the charge.
Which made it a little bit irritating that as she traced her fingers over the ancient etchings of the inner sanctum’s wall, she was forced to hear Agent Washington repeat himself again.
“I need to get back out there and help Carolina,” he said.
“Repeating that ad nauseam hasn’t been particularly helpful so far,” Dylan Andrews told him flatly. “And admittedly I don’t know much about Agent Carolina compared to most of you, but I feel like she would find that insulting.”
“Yeah, dude, she’ll take your balls and mount them on Sheila’s dashboard,” Kaikaina Grif said, leaning against the opposite wall to Doctor Grey. “Just chill. Homegirl’s gonna kick ass and take names and then remind them that you two are the law, fuck yeah.”
“We’re not cops,” Washington said abruptly.
“Tch, sure, keep telling yourself that,” Kaikaina replied with a wave of her hand.
“I already know it, you’re the one who can’t seem to—“ Washington stopped and looked around the room again. “Everyone hush.” They paused for a few beats and then Wash turned back toward them. “Nevermind. I thought I heard—“
“Shh!” Doctor Grey finally hissed out, turning just enough to level a glare at all of them. “I will have you know that translating a dead alien language into its modern iteration and then translating that into my native language is causing an unprecedented amount of brainpower on my part. And all of you are being loud and unhelpful.”
“Sorry,” everyone said at once with Junior honking.
Looking back to the wall, Emily found her spot and continued in the newly found silence.
“Okay, I’ll bite,” Kaikaina groaned. “What the fuck do we have to read the stupid wall graffiti for right now? I fucking hate reading. It’s never done anything for me. Like ever. And now there’s dudes with binoculars who aren’t just interested in getting a peek of my tits, and we’re supposed to be finding my Big Bro and his friends inside of this cold ass ice building in the middle of nowhere.”
Dylan Andrews looked at Kai and hummed to herself slightly, tapping a finger against the cheek of her helmet. “You have a very… unique way of reaching your points, Private Grif.”
“Hey fuck you!” Kai snapped. She paused for a moment and looked at Andrews. “Wait, was that an insult or not?”
“It wasn’t,” Andrews assured her.
“Cool, thanks, but still, totally fuck you like what even,” Kai replied almost scathingly.
“She was just remarking on the fact that you beat around the bush with metaphors no one in their right mind has ever asked for,” Wash explained, clearly at wit’s end.
“Nah, I leave beating around my bush to you and the ladies,” Kai flippantly responded.
“Shut up,” Wash spat back before visibly tensing up. “Wait. What.”
“Bow chicka honk honk!” Junior cooed.
Taking a deep breath, Doctor Grey rose to her feet, eyes closed as she worked desperately on finding her center. She then spun around toward the ragtag team and opened her eyes. Then, she bellowed at the positive heights of her vocal cords.
“ALL OF YOU BE QUIET!!!” she screamed.
The echoes of Grey’s outburst continued on through passage ways around them, the icicles hanging precariously above each passage way giving a precarious chime as a result. They all looked around to make sure that she hadn’t accidentally caused their doom through a cave in or icy impalement before looking back to the doctor.
Clearing her throat and collecting a deep breath in her chest, Doctor Grey put her hands on her hips and glared angrily at all of them. “I am translating ancient alien texts in order to understand what this temple was constructed by the ancients to do and therefore why it would be of any interest to a mercenary or even Malcolm Hargrove himself. It could be vital information for moving forward and, most importantly of all, for understanding what he plans on doing with our abducted and subjugated friends.”
Everyone seemed to be a cross of sheepish and slightly ashamed in response to the declaration, which for the most part had been Doctor Grey’s goal. At least it was until there was a gentle laugh.
“Why, our dear Doctor, if those were the answers you were looking for, all you had to do was ask,” an outrageously pompous and rage inducing voice concluded just before a potato headed man in a parka stepped out from one of the halls. He wore a rather assuming smile and an ascot like, as Emily’s dear friends the Reds and Blues would say, a complete and utter cockbite.
Without a moment’s hesitation, both Washington and Kaikaina had their respective signature weapons out and aimed at the Chairman’s head.
“Malcolm Hargrove,” Dylan Andrews said slowly. “Chairman of the UNSC Oversight Subcommittee. I have a lot of questions for you given the documented evidence I and my associates have collected over the past thirty-six hours. Very damning evidence, I should add.”
“Fuck the theatrics!” Kai screamed out angrily. “You better tell me where the effing fuck my brother is, you douchebag!”
Junior peeked his head out from between Washington and Kaikaina’s legs and lout a vicious BLARGH to add to the sentiment.
“This temple’s a repository for ancient alien technologies,” Doctor Grey announced, slowly stepping forward. “Just like many of the sites on Chorus. That’s why you were interested in Chorus and that’s why you’re interested now here. But what did you need our friends for?”
“I will answer both your questions at the same time,” Hargrove replied with a chilling glee.
“Oh, that’s convenient, fucking over achiever,” Kai hissed in return. “I hate over achievers.”
“Kai, be quiet,” Wash warned.
“You be quiet!” Kai replied angrily.
“What are you up to, Hargrove?” Washington demanded, ignoring Kaikaina’s rebuttal for the moment.
About that time, Doctor Grey could hear the chimes of the icicles again, steadier and quieter than they had been before. And when she strained, those mysterious footsteps that Washington had been hearing were finally audible to her own ears.
“Agent Washington, I am doing something which you never managed,” Hargrove replied darkly. “Completing a deal. I am letting you know where your friends are and why I am in need of their… volunteered services.”
Suddenly, every hall leading into the large inner sanctum had at least two of the Reds and Blues at each doorway, guns up, utterly silent.
Immediately, Kaikaina perked up and lowered her glock. “Dex!?” she cried out, looking at the orange armored Red. “Dexter! It’s me! I’ve been looking all the fuck over for you! …Dex?”
Washington did not lower his gun, but he openly stared behind Hargrove as the two Blues stepped out and in front of him, their own guns raised. “Tucker? Caboose? What… What are you doing? What did he do to you?”
Rather than answer, the entire group stood coldly and silently, prompting a chuckle from Hargrove.
“They are doing what I want them to do,” Hargrove answered. “Because I have power, and because I have influence, and because I deserve the loyalty of every man, woman, and child saved by my strategic and diplomatic handling of the Great War. Because I am owed, and because I finally have seen the way of wiping insolence out. And whether they wanted to or not, I made sure the Reds and Blues saw that all for themselves.”
“Fuck, dude, your evil speeches don’t answer a goddamn question,” Kai whined.
“I would have to agree,” Doctor Grey said, racking her brain for a way out of the current situation.
“Perhaps you need the right question,” Andrews proposed. “You’ve gone through a lot of additional trouble to frame us as well as set us up for some fall. It’s obvious that there’s something you want from us. What would that be?”
“Ah, an intelligent reporter,” Hargrove replied. “My least favorite kind. But you are right about your question. I do want something. I want something only the Freelancers were capable of delivering right into my hands. Which they did. Marvelously, I must add.”
“We don’t have anything,” Wash replied plainly.
“You do,” Hargrove said before shifting his gaze from Washington down to Junior. “I needed him. The prodigal son. The messiah. The Great Destroyer.”
Grey was taken aback, as was everyone else apparently, all turning to look at the equally baffled looking alien child.
“Blargh?”
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kayleepetey · 7 years ago
Text
Of Sutures, Spilled Juice, and Sticky Notes (Olicity AU fic)
So, after what I know has been a TERRIBLY long dry spell from me with my lack of writing and posting, things have just been busy and tiring in real life, here I finally have a story! This is the first part in a series of one-shots for a new Olicity alt-'verse, The Paramedic and the Vigilante. I have no idea how it came to me, literally I woke up one morning with this world and the versions of our beloved characters in my head and I had to write it. I hope you guys like it!
Disclaimer: I own NOTHING, I am not receiving anything in the production of this story, it is purely for fun and entertainment.
Thank you to my beta and wonderful dartie, @agentsassydirewolf! Thank you for all the help, advice, and even for egging me on! ;-) You're the best!
>>>------------>
Of Sutures, Spilled Juice, and Sticky Notes
Tommy was right. Oh, how it pained Oliver to admit that; he hated being wrong--the Army shrink had rambled on and on about that particular "trait" (read: issue)--and hated admitting to it even more--oh, had the quacks ever had a field day with his bucket-load of issues...
Two years ago Oliver Queen's 12-year, decorated career in Army Special Forces ended after 9 months held captive by the enemy resulted in two fused vertebrae, a knee replacement, complete burnout, and a psych diagnosis of PTSD. The Army (and a few other government agencies he would never be able to name because the ops were unlikely to ever be declassified) and the United States of America extended their most heartfelt thanks for his service, operated on and rehabbed him, then gave him an early medical retirement.
Naturally Oliver's one-percenter, semi-absentee parents had been thrilled that that "nonsense" was over; they'd assumed this meant he'd take up his "rightful place" with his father at the family company and among the Starling upper-crust society. They even planned how to spin his "patriotism" into positive PR for the company, as well as responses (read: smoke screening) to questions about his business qualifications—or more accurately the lack-thereof.
Oliver instead had taken his G.I. Bill and become a paramedic--he'd briefly considered also going on to become a fireman so he could work out of the Fire Department, but nixed it due to an...incident in Kandahar that he and his Army buddy and mentor, John Diggle, still didn't talk about to this day, no matter how much the shrinks had prodded them; that was a place neither of them ever wanted to revisit. Oliver had immediately volunteered to work on the worst side of town, the Glades, much to his parents' further dismay, and quickly proved himself as the coolest head and most fearless--his friends called it "reckless" but Oliver preferred "fearless"--which were vital traits in many cases. And since he was rather perpetually single--it had to be some form of the universe getting karmic revenge after his playboy past: him being seemingly unable to have a woman stay with him for longer than a couple of dates now that he'd actually might want that--Oliver often took on extra shifts for coworkers who got sick, whose kids got sick, or who went on vacation with their family--his friends and sister accused him of using work to distract himself and avoid dating, but who could blame him after of the last three women one never called him back after the first date, another stalked him, and the third got shot by said stalker?
Suffice it to say that his workaholism--or avoidance tactics, according to his sister, friends, and his last shrink before he fired him--were the reason behind him now having to do something he hated: conceding to someone else being right.
Oliver had started out working his standard shift, then done a double when Charlie had called in because her daughter, two boys, and life-partner were all sick with the stomach flu; that had then rolled into a triple because of a 20-car pileup. He'd just dropped off their last patient when his oldest friend, Tommy Merlyn, ER surgeon-extraordinaire of Glades Memorial, stole his keys and forced him to go to one of the empty tea treatment rooms to rack-out for a few hours before going home, pointing out that after working for so long he had no business driving home on basically no sleep. When he'd sensed Oliver not quite giving in he went in for the kill: "I'm not going to let you go out there and become car accident victim number 21 for the night."
Rolling his eyes, Oliver reluctantly agreed to stay for at least four hours--negotiated down from the original six--and trudged through the familiar halls to the room his friend had indicated.
The further he got from the ER the quieter the halls became and the activity less frantic; he smiled and greeted the orderlies, nurses, and doctors as he made his way through--he was more or less familiar with everyone who worked there, it was a small, understaffed hospital, so everyone knew each other. Oliver checked in with the desk nurse--a sweet mother of two named Jenny--to let her know that Tommy had ordered him to use the room in her ward, to which she'd laughed and said she'd note it on the board for the room not to be disturbed unless necessary, doctor's orders.
Exhausted--and part of him wishing he was ten years younger--Oliver pushed open the door to the small room.
Which was already occupied.
The member of the trio of Starling City vigilantes dubbed by the police and media as "The Hood"—dumb name in his opinion—was standing by the counter, holding a wad of gauze of her left, black leather-clad shoulder, eyes visibly wide behind her signature hood and mask, even in the dim room, lit mostly by moonlight filtering in through the open window.
Oliver was frozen for but a moment—longer than it normally would be but he was coming off a triple, so he figured he could be cut some slack—before he closed the door and locked it behind him. "Gunshot wound?"
Hoodie--yeah, nevermind, he was not gonna call her that--blinked. "What?"
"Your wound." He gestured to her shoulder. "Is it from a gunshot?"
"Umm...yeah..." It sounded more like a question than an answer.
"Is it a through-n-through?"
Her mouth open and closed a couple of times before saying, "I feel like I should know what that means, but I'm kinda distracted from my bleeding to death and your general, extreme hotness." The dark-haired vigilante's teeth audibly snapped shut and her eyes squeezed tightly closed, embarrassment obvious.
Oliver found himself fighting a grin--where the hell had that come from?! He hadn't found much of anything amusing in  years, and this girl managed to amuse him within 60 seconds of meeting her?!--before stepping forward and clarifying, "Is the bullet still in your shoulder?"
"No, no bullet. I mean, there was a bullet, obviously, but it didn't stay in my shoulder, it went right through-- Thus...the through-n-through you mentioned. Yeah...it's been a night." Her perfectly straight and perfectly white teeth bit her full, dark fuchsia lower lip.
The fair-haired paramedic had reached her side and pulled the gauze away from her shoulder. All he could see was a bloody hole in the black leather. "We need to get this off." He tossed the used gauze into the medical waste bin before beginning to tug on her long coat.
She complied with his urging, unbuckling her belt then working the leather over her good shoulder with ease, while muttering, "Usually I wait until the third date before I let a guy start taking off my clothes." Her eyes again went comically wide.
This time Oliver could not quell the amused smirk that quirked his lips. "Better track record than I have."
Out of the corner of his eye he could see her mouth hanging open, while she stared at him, he probably felt overly-proud at being able to so shock one of the women who had the scum of the Glades running scared. The coat came off to reveal a, in his opinion, sensibly long sleeve top--who the hell would go fighting knife, gun, and other weapons-wielding criminals in short-sleeves or sleeveless tops?! He tugged at the sleeve. "This too."
"Now we're really getting into third date territory." This time he was pretty sure it was intentional on her part, she seemed to be watching him closely to see how he'd react.
He helped her with the clasps on her top that her wounded shoulder made a struggle. "You can buy me a drink later if it'll make you feel better."
"Oh, it should definitely be the other way around," she quipped back.
When was the last time Oliver had had this much fun bantering with someone? "Really?" Peeling back the leather top revealed a simple black tank, and a ragged gunshot wound, which he closely inspected using his penlight.
"Yep." She sucked in a sharp breath when he gently prodded the edge of the wound, shooting her an apologetic look before returning his attention to the injury. "Actually you should spring for an entire meal. I'm not a cheap date."
"Noted." He moved behind her so that he could take a look at the corresponding wound--notably the entrance wound, some fucking coward had shot her in the back--noting that both would only require a few stitches. "I should be able to close these fairly quickly, and the bullet missed the artery."
She twisted her head at a slightly awkward angle to look at the wounds. "Are you sure? It's bleeding a lot."
Oliver just barely managed to suppress a smile, nodding and leading her over to the bed. "I'm sure. If they'd hit an artery, you'd probably already be dead, and definitely would be unconscious." He drew her to a halt before him.
She managed to cock an eyebrow above her mask. "Well, you're a cheerful one."
He smirked. "Always." Then he grasped her around the waist and lifted her to sit on the bed.
"Oh!" the startled sound escaped her on a gasp, her lips parting into a delicious "o" that Oliver forced himself to ignore, along with how perfectly the curve of her waist fit in his hands, and that she smelled of freesias and violets.
Oliver withdrew to wash his hands before turning to the supply cabinets, quickly searching through them until he uncovered the items he was looking for, then set them all on a sterile tray and returned to her side, pulling on nitrile gloves. "We'll need to clean the wound first which isn't going to be pleasant."
The masked woman visibly swallowed. "I can take it." She was trying to sound tough, but Oliver could hear the tiniest quaver in her tone. The front wasn't necessary in his book, he already applauded the strength and bravery she'd shown thus far and did so every night on the streets.
He cleaned the wound as best he could, pretending he didn't hear the occasional gasps and whimpers that escaped her. Finally it was satisfactorily clean and, picking up the suture, he turned his gaze on her again, this time very apologetic. "I'm sorry, but they don't keep any anesthetic, even local, in the rooms. So this is going to hurt a lot."
Swallowing hard, the dark-haired woman tried to give a nonchalant shrug, spoiling the effect with a full-body flinch and grimace at moving her injured shoulder, saying, "It can't hurt worse than the bullet did, right?"
Technically, no, a gunshot was more painful, however the stitches were going to take time so the pain would be more sustained. But Oliver wasn't going to tell her that. "Just keep breathing. Don't want you to pass out."
"You suck at this bedside mannnnnnnnnneeeeeeeeeer-- Ow ow ow owowowowow OW!"
He cast her an apologetic look from where he'd begun the stitches. "Well, there is a reason I'm a paramedic and not a doctor or nurse."
"Do paramedics even do stitches? I mean, are you even trained to do this?!" Her voice was becoming higher pitched and edging towards hysterical.
Oliver needed to head off that hysteria. "As a matter of fact I have been trained in sutures and have quite a bit of experience with them. I was Special Forces and trained in some field medicine." He kept his voice calm and soothing, his tone turning a little teasing as he continued, "And are you really gonna complain about the qualifications of the man helping you, no-questions-asked, Hoodie?" The name he'd thought of earlier popping back into his mind.
"What did you just call me?" she gritted out through her clenched in pain teeth.
Bingo. "Well, it's better than 'The Hood,'" he used a mock foreboding tone on the moniker as he moved to her back. "Dumb name, 'The Hood.' You should get a better one, Hoodie." Keeping her mad was good, anger kept hysteria away and would help keep her from passing out.
"Call me Hoodie again and I'll kill you," the dark-haired woman snarled. She kinda reminded Oliver of a feisty, little kitten, he liked her spirit; she and Thea would get along famously...he should probably make sure they never met. For many, many reasons.
"Considering I can bench press you, I think I'm okay with taking my chances, Hoodie." Most people would think he had a death wish, taunting one of the Starling City vigilantes, but after all he'd been through and done his fear threshold was set rather high, not much of anything fazed him at this point. And besides, even if she really could kill him he didn't think she actually would...probably. At least not until after he'd finished patching her up first. And besides he was growing fond of the nickname Hoodie.
"Then I'll ruin your life! You have no idea what these fingers can do!"
He raised an eyebrow at her, lips twitching. "No, I don't, but I'm sure I'd like to find out, Hoodie."
She frowned for a moment, thinking back on what she'd said before squeezing her eyes shut and groaning. "With a computer! Not...other stuff. Not that I'm not good at that other stuff, I mean, my last boyfriend said--" She clenched her jaw shut and then began counting down through her teeth," 3... 2... 1..."
"Done." Oliver snipped off the excess from the last suture.
Her head whipped around to look where he'd been sewing up the hole in the back of her shoulder. "You're done? Already?"
"Yep." He picked up a couple of large bandages, gently applying them over the stitches on each side of her shoulder, ignoring--or trying to--how soft her skin was under his fingers, even through the gloves, as he smoothed the adhesive edges down.
The vigilante narrowed her eyes at him. "Nice distraction technique."
"Worked in the field." Oliver gathered up everything and tossed it along with his gloves into the med waste bin. "Though I did nearly get my ass kicked once. ASA guy, my partner literally had to tie the guy's hands together behind his back. Still got socked in the jaw afterwards." He picked up her discarded top and gently began to help her pull the sleeve up her injured arm. "So, you're gonna want to keep those sutures as dry as possible, and try not to use that shoulder much, you do have a hole in it so it's gonna need some time to heal and recover, and you don't want to tear the stitches out either. You have someone who can take them out for you in a couple weeks?"
"Yeah, my partners can help me." She fumbled a bit with the fasteners on her top, so Oliver reached over and began to help her with them again. "I'm a big girl, I can dress myself, thanks," she grumbled a bit.
"Seemed to me that you needed a little help. And my mother raised me to be a gentleman and to help a lady when she needed it," he drawled sardonically, before gripping her waist and lifting her down from the bed.
"Yeah, I'll bet. Especially when it involves helping a lady out of her clothes? And why is it you keep picking me up and moving me places? I'm not a doll, I am perfectly capable of moving myself, thanks," she snarked back.
He snorted at her comment about him helping women out of their clothes. "Humor the man who just put the stitches into your shoulder and would rather not see them get ripped out immediately thereafter," Oliver wryly asked her, holding out her coat to help her slip it on.
Rolling her eyes, she allowed him to assist her, pointing out over her shoulder, "You realize that when I climb out the window and down the fire escape that's gonna be substantially more strenuous than hopping off a bed?"
"Thus why you're not going out the fire escape," he easily countered her, already moving towards the door.
Her eyebrows shot towards her hairline. "Is that so?"
"Yep." Oliver cracked the door, checking the hallway.
"And exactly how am I going to get out of here unseen?" Out of the corner of his eyes he saw her start to cross her arms, but then wince and let them drop back to her sides.
"The cameras are out on this floor, and just two doors down there's a stairwell that has an exit into the alley behind the hospital." The paramedic looked back at her. "That's how you're going to get out."
She blinked a couple of times, before joining him. "Well, if you want to be all logical and safe about it."
He smirked. "That'd be my preference." Quickly he scanned the hall, making sure it was clear. "Okay, let's go." Placing his hand at the small of her back, he urged her out of the room and down the hall, head on a swivel, ready to duck out of sight if someone came. They then reached the door to the stairwell and he held it open for her. "Down these stairs you'll find the exit, the one for the alley is the one without a window. Can you get yourself to safety from there?"
"Yeah." She nodded, eyeing him closely. "Why are you helping me? I'm wanted by the police, and you, y'know, work with the police."
Oliver was acutely aware of the hall at his back and that someone could appear at any moment and find them, but he considered his words carefully before answering, "The Glades need help. And you and your friends are among the only people actually trying to make a difference. Trying to do good. And you are." He heard the sound of faint footsteps approaching. "Go, and be careful."
"Thank you!" she managed to say just before the door closed.
Oliver nodded in acknowledgement through the tiny window, before forcing himself to turn and head down the hall back to the room, not wanting anyone to see him at the stairwell and it get back to Tommy that he attempted to "escape" or something. He nodded and smiled tiredly to the nurse he passed in the hall before ducking back into the room; he did a quick visual sweep to make sure there wasn't any evidence left that Hoodie--she'd probably would  kill him if she knew that he now thought of her as that--had been there, but aside from the blankets on the bed being slightly wrinkled, which wasn't an issue, everything looked perfectly normal.
As he breathed out a relieved sigh a new wave of exhaustion washed over him, his body screaming abuse at him, and the sigh turned into a grumble. Locking the door again--he did not need anyone getting in the room unexpectedly if his mind decided to revisit one of his nightmares; the last time someone had surprised him while he was having a nightmare he'd nearly killed his mother--Oliver moved to the bed, toeing out of his shoes before basically collapsing face first onto the cheap crappy mattress, though his sleep-deprived body thought it felt like the most amazing bed ever at the moment. Finally he gave into his exhaustion, his mind slowly sinking down into sleep, the scent of freesias and violets drifting from the blankets and following him pleasantly into his dreams.
>>>---------->
One Week Later
Felicity gritted her teeth as her shoulder throbbed beneath her pink blouse, the asshole she'd passed on the way to her desk had slammed into it, not even bothering to apologize. Jerk. She forced herself not to rub it, as was her first instinct, knowing it would do more harm than good. Sara had assured Felicity that the person who patched her up did a great job. When her bo-staff wielding compatriot asked who it was that'd helped her, Felicity had told her that he hadn't given his name. Not a lie, because he hadn't, but who in Starling City didn't know Oliver Queen? All these days later and Felicity still didn't know why she hadn't told Sara who it was that'd helped her.
Unconsciously her fingers rose to lightly rest on the stitches, remembering his gentle touch as he bantered with and teased her, amusement shining through the shadows in his bright blue eyes. Felicity honestly hadn't ever expected to meet the heir to the Queen empire, so she hadn't really had any set expectations as to what he'd be like. At least she'd thought she hadn't, but when she met him he'd surprised her at every turn. The second she'd thought she had a handle on who he was and how he'd react, he'd done something she completely didn't expect. He'd completely and utterly shed the playboy persona of his teen years, his serving in the Army for over a decade alone proved that, and he had a sardonic, self-deprecating sense of humor she wouldn't have predicted. Above all, she'd learnt that Oliver Queen cared, deeply. He could have just taken the easy path offered to him by following his parents' plans for him, but instead he chose to enlist in the Army, where he'd volunteered for the truly dangerous jobs, while also lending a helping hand where he could--she may or may not have hacked his file, and while some of it was too heavily protected for her to risk attracting attention by digging any deeper, what she had been able to find told her a great deal about the kind of person he was.
After the hell of his captivity--even just reading the debrief of what had happened to him and his fellow soldier, John Diggle, and the resulting injuries had Felicity cringing in her seat--no one would have faulted him for choosing the easier life his family wanted for him, but instead he'd chosen a profession that was dedicated to helping others and to do so in the roughest part of town and that was most in need. Oliver had a big heart, possibly the biggest Felicity had ever encountered, one, she was beginning to suspect that even from their brief encounter, he hid under sarcasm and a façade of professional distance--that, and him trying to keep her calm while doing his job, had better be the reason why he called her freaking Hoodie. Whatever else Oliver Queen might be, he was definitely a good man.
"Felicity Smoak?"
And "he" was apparently standing in front of her cubicle.
Frack.
Felicity had automatically looked up at her name being called, and if there ever was a "speak of the devil" moment, this was it. But what a handsome devil he was... Frack, her brain.
He gave her a charming, but distant, smile. "Hi, I'm Oliver Queen."
Yes, yes, he was. In all his muscle-ly, perfectly scruffy glory; his forearms strained against the rolled up sleeves of his blue plaid shirt, and his jeans clung very nicely to his strong thighs--and probably perfectly formed to his unbelievable ass.
Felicity didn't realize she'd been staring until he cleared his throat, startling her out of her stupor. Gods of Google she hoped that for once she'd managed to not babble all of that.
The smirk on Oliver's face and the amusement dancing in his eyes put a damper on that hope.
"I'll take all of that as a compliment."
And now it was DOA. Double frack.
Blushing furiously, Felicity pushed her glasses up her nose and cleared her throat. "Mr. Queen, please accept my apologies for those utterly inappropriate statements--"
"Oliver," he easily cut in.
"What?" She blinked up at him from behind her square frames.
"It's Oliver. Mr. Queen is my father."
"Of course he is. Because he's my boss and that's his name. But it's your name too, and it's on the side of the building--" Felicity forcefully snapped her jaw shut, trying to keep herself from digging an even deeper hole.
He shifted on his feet, for the first time in their short acquaintance actually looking uncomfortable. Felicity noticed the fingers of his right hand were rubbing together rapidly, her mind for some reason taking note of the tiny gesture. "Still, I'd rather you call me Oliver." There was nothing flirtatious about his tone, in fact it was rather flat and firm.
This was important to him; she didn't really understand why--yet--but it was obviously something he felt very strongly about, and Felicity would respect his wishes on this. Slowly, she nodded. "Okay, Oliver, what can I do for you?"
Gratitude washed over his face--Felicity pretended not to feel the warmth that flooded her heart at the expression--before a somewhat sheepish look overtook it. He lifted up a laptop he'd been carrying at his side and set it on her desk.
When Felicity placed her fingers on it she immediately noted a sticky substance coating it; she pulled her hands back with a grimace. "What happened to this…" she eyed the computer, noting how it was several generations old, "poor dinosaur?"
"Hey!" He jabbed a finger at her, a teasing note threading his offended tone. "That dinosaur has served me well! Survived multiple deployments."
"And it should have been enjoying a nice honorable discharge to the back of your closet, not whatever travesty has befallen it instead," she countered, matching the teasing in his tone as she reprimanded him.
Bashfully ducking his head and stuffing his hands in his pockets, Oliver shrugged. "I kept meaning to get a new computer, but it ran fine so I just put it off."
She cocked an eyebrow. "So, what happened to Dino?"
He slowly raised his gaze to hers. "I was watching my goddaughter and apparently sippy cups aren't as leak-proof as they make them out to be..."
"Or maybe there was a user error? And by that, I mean you, not the child."
Grinning wryly, he shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time. They call these things kid-friendly and then make them impossible to operate. It took me three hours to put her swing thing," he made some odd gestures with his arms, apparently supposed to describe the object--and Felicity found it far too adorable, "birthday present together last month."
She ducked her head to try to hide her twitching lips. He probably didn't realize just how much the simple statement said about him. Good gods of Google, it truly was unfair for a man that good-looking to be so sweet and actually kinda...adorkable...
Felicity quickly shook her head, trying to get rid of those thoughts. "So, What exactly can I do for you? Because I'm pretty sure not even I can help this poor unfortunate soul."
"Well, as long as the it doesn't cost my voice, I was hoping you could get the files off the hard drive," he teased back.
She felt her eyebrows shoot up.
At her surprise, Oliver shrugged. "The Little Mermaid was my kid sister's favorite growing up, and now Sara, my goddaughter, likes to watch it every time she comes over to my place."
Frack. How the hell did this guy just keep getting more and more attractive?! He's your boss. He's your boss. She tried to keep the mantra up, but a unhelpful corner of her mind slyly threw in, He's your boss...sorta. Not really... He doesn't work here at all, he's just the son of-- Shut up! Great, and now she was having arguments with her own brain. Felicity shook all that away before turning back to Oliver with a smile. "Let me take a look at it and see what I can do."
Oliver smiled. Gods of Google help her, he really smiled. It was brilliant, it lit his too-old eyes in such a breathtaking way, brighter than she'd seen them either in the media or in person. "Thank you, Felicity."
She'd never heard someone say her name like that, lingering over each of the syllables, as if savoring them. Frack, this man was unreal.
He snagged one of her sticky note pads, the green one, and picked up her red pen, scribbling quickly. "Here's my number, just call me when you're done." He grinned at her again, handing her the pad and pen back.
"Of course!" Felicity pushed her glasses up her nose with her free hand. "It should only take a couple of days."
"No rush," he assured her as he stuck his hands in his pockets. An oddly knowing glint entered his eyes, a smirk touching his lips. "See you around, Felicity."
"See you." She watched him until he turned the corner out of the IT Department, then shook her head to banish the very appealing images of Oliver Queen. She finally looked down at his note, preparing to pull it from the pad and stick it by her screen, but froze, eyes going wide as she actually read what he'd written below his phone number:
Just in case you need some more medical assistance, Hoodie.
Her first thought was: I'm gonna kill him for calling me Hoodie!
Her second thought was: Fuck.
>>>----------->
So, I will definitely be doing more in this 'verse, I'm having TONS of fun with these versions of Oliver and Felicity! XD
Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think and if you want to see more from this AU!
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arcticdementor · 6 years ago
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I’ve never voted. Well, I lie, I voted once. I was 18, and my mother sorta forced me. It also felt like some rite of passage, you know, you grow to 18 and you get to do grown-up stuff like voting, having a voice in the political process. I’ve never been into rituals though, and I felt stupid immediately after putting my vote in the box. I didn’t even like the guy! I thought he was retarded. All of them, really. I still do.
Of course ever time there’s an election people would ask me now and then who I’m gonna vote to. I evolved a series of bunch of canned answers. First one was “Nah they all suck”. Then I read Bryan Caplan’s Myth of the Rational Voter and started saying “one vote doesn’t count anyway”. This triggered huge discussions if there was even a single Boomer at home. “But if everyone thought like you nobody would vote!!”.
-“Well sure but my not voting doesn’t influence other people’s behavior”.
“But you have to vote, if nobody voted…”
-“It doesn’t follow that if I don’t vote then other people don’t vote”.
“But you have to vote, if everyone did like you”
-“Where on earth are you taking that ‘if’ from?
“But you have to vote……”
You should try this, it’s hilarious. They just go in an endless loop bug. Talk about NPCs.
And then… Trump happened 3 years ago. It took me a while to get into Trump. I didn’t care about elections, you see? Elections don’t matter. It’s all the same. And not being American I knew little about the guy. I’d seen him on TV now and then but besides him being this kinda sleazy showbiz guy I couldn’t care much about him.
But I was on Twitter, and I was watching all the outrage, and man, Trump was good. He wasn’t good, good. He wasn’t Moldbug. Not even Pat Buchanan. Trump is really inarticulate, I don’t know his verbal IQ but he has the vocabulary of a dumb 10 year old. And yet he got his points across. Good points. Drain the Swamp. NATO is pointless. Make America Great Again. China is ripping us off. You’d be in jail. No more senseless wars. BUILD THE WALL. All great, and most importantly, hilarious ideas. Trump was trolling everyone that I hated, the press, the bureaucrats, the whole Cathedral was up in arms against him, and *he was fighting back*. Successfully! He was talking shit to AIPAC! I just couldn’t help myself. Trump was my guy. I couldn’t vote for him, I’m not American, but I would have. Honest to god, I’d wake up early and vote for Donald Trump.
Fast forward 2 and a half years later. No wall. No jail for Hillary. Narrowly avoided jail himself! The swamp is a big as always. Forever war still going on. Spending more time tweeting about Israel than his own country. Shits on Ann Coulter and says he wants more legal immigration. Did I mention no wall? What a disaster. Trump has been a huge and complete disappointment. Again, I don’t dislike the guy personally. I mean I never *liked* him. He’s weird, talks like a retarded 10 year old. I’d say I’d probably wouldn’t enjoy having a few beers with him but he doesn’t even drink. But I don’t hate the guy, I think odds are his heart is in the right place. He just can’t get stuff done. He’s incompetent. I mean, it’s hard. It was always hard. One just doesn’t come in as a complete outsider and reform the whole government from scratch. Then again, people who work in the heart of the beast, in Washington DC, tell me he’s just incompetent.
So now what? Back to Moldbuggian detachment? Nothing ever changes, huh. The Cathedral really is all powerful. Ever since Trump made some protests about the intelligence agencies being disloyal or outright attacking him, the Establishment feels so powerful they just blatantly say in the press that the CIA are the good guys. Does nobody remember that the CIA being evil was pretty much proven by the 1960s, and that evil CIA ops have been a staple of books and films for decades? Not anymore; they’re not content with being powerful in the shade. They want outright public submission.
Democracy really is a sham; but it’s hard to go back to detachment now that Bioleninism is out in the open. Elections now are openly not about economic policy or social conservatism. Elections now are about the speed of the dispossession of white straight males. It’s for or against Bioleninism. The majority of candidates of the Democratic party are openly talking of “reparations” for black people, i.e. outright Danegeld. And don’t get me started with open hunt to mess with the sexual hormones of white children in schools. It’s going on right there in the open.
The US has an election next year, the campaign is starting now. Given the present demographic trends, it is very likely that Florida, if not Texas, will flip blue very shortly; that means a rock-solid majority for the Democratic party, forever. Donald Trump is likely to be the last white male president in American history. The 2020 election is probably going to be the last election which is more or less contested. Trump does still have a chance.
But Trump is incompetent. He’s not helping. He’s just treading water while another million Third-world immigrants sneak in, another middle-school boy gets injected estrogen because he doesn’t like football, and another hundred-thousand white men just overdose on opioids because you can’t even play a videogame today without being forced to play a black woman avatar. Can you support this guy? I sure can’t. Again, not my nation, but I wouldn’t. I won’t call him a traitor, although many have. But he didn’t build the wall. He’s letting Amazon, Facebook and Twitter campaign openly against him and censor everything to the right, and he hasn’t lifted a finger. He doesn’t deserve support.
Seriously though, to the extent Bernie represents a constituency that’s not for instant Brazilification, I wish him well, but he’s old and frail, and his program isn’t very interesting. And most importantly, his own constituency is being taken over by a guy who’s 10 times smarter, is young, has actual good ideas, is not white and will give the Bernie crowd everything they want, and more. Much more.
To be precise, $1,000 a month more.
Come Andrew Yang.
He’s the only candidate in this whole race that doesn’t talk like a bugman. You know what a bugman is. All those politicians and corporate guys who talk in that odd and disingenuous jargon designed to obfuscate. High-grade NPCs, that’s what bugmen are. Well, he isn’t. He goes straight to the issues, analyzes them intelligently, and then has a plan. It may be or may not be a good plan. But I dare you to show me a presidential candidate with a higher IQ than Andrew Yang in the last 30 years. That’s even more of a feat because the guy is East Asian, and God knows East Asians tend to be bugmen too.
The guy even wrote a book called The War On Normal People, which is the perfect definition of the Left. I should use it as a subtitle for a Bioleninism book.
But a big part of it is just pure appreciation for the guy. Look at his interview with Tucker. You might remember my last post on Tucker, and how he’s revolutionized conservative commentary in the US by arguing that the focus of government should be taking care of working families. Well, Tucker himself liked Yang, and it’s no wonder he did. Yang is the candidate who’s using the closest arguments to Tucker. By far. He’s lamenting the plight of the working man. He’s calling to help the rural white middle class who’s being ravaged by the opioid suicide crisis. Note that Trump has said some stuff about that, and has tried to get China to stop exports of fentanyl, but he didn’t mention white people by name. Yang did, just like that. He’s the only guy who’s not only overtly or covertly calling for your extinction; he’s the only guy on the record for trying to stop it.
And, he’s promising to stop it by taxing the hell of the Enemy. Which again, as Tucker mentioned, isn’t a huge abstract thing The Jews or the Left. No. The enemy is Big Tech. It’s Amazon, it’s Google, It’s Apple. It’s Facebook. It’s Twitter. It’s Woke Capital. It’s those guys who aren’t only taking your jobs, they’re using their monopoly in the management of information to censore us, hide us, slander us and ostracize us. You might remember that Trump also hinted at doing something about that. Regulate Facebook and Twitter as utilities to make sure the Right could actually fight the Culture War, and perhaps show that there’s a majority of people against injecting synthetic hormones into 12 year old children. That he’d make big tech build in America and stop avoiding taxes with blatant laundering tricks. Well, Trump did nothing, and he’s avoiding the topic. Yang isn’t. I have nothing against Amazon’s business, but Bezos chose sides by buying the Washington Post and recently going on a censorship spree, banning right wing books from Amazon. He must pay. Yang says he will.
I don’t know if UBI would work. Americans are crying bloody murder about a proposed 10% VAT. I say cry me a river. Europeans have a 20% VAT. It’s annoying, but it’s not a big deal. Smart people say that automation is overhyped, it’s not growing that fast, self-driving cars, one of the biggest talking points of Yang, are likely to not even happen after all. That may be true. But I’d like to say that the beauty of UBI is not that it’s actually necessary in the way Yang says it is, to give people something to fall back on while they find a new job.
Tucker is also worried about the middle class trucker. But Tucker’s answer is to ban automation. Go full Luddite. Yang is talking about automation a lot. But he doesn’t want to stop it. By implementing UBI he wouldn’t stop automation, he’d accelerate it. Businesses would start automating like crazy once people left unsatisfying jobs to go play Fortnite on UBI or try an instagram e-thot career. A big majority of white collar jobs are complete and utter bullshit make-work made by government regulation to keep people busy and have some income to tax. If Yang succeeded in his proposed plan to completely change the regulatory paradigm to adapt to the computer economy at last, companies could actually get rid of all the inefficiencies, and automate everything. Starting with the bureaucracy.
Well China is pushing hard for developing AI and automation. Which is weird in a country which could have a serious unemployment problem if automation goes on. But China doesn’t care. Why not? Because China has realized that with Internet and modern computing, they don’t need the corporations to manage the people anymore. They can do it directly. Everybody has a mobile phone with a camera and a microphone 24/7 with them. The government knows your every move. You don’t need to shame people into buying your ideology by threatening with firing them from their jobs, like America does. That’s so 20th century. Now you can control behavior directly with internet surveillance. Social credit is an extension of this trend. It boggles the mind that accelerationists aren’t talking more about this. Not saying it’s a good thing. But the tech is here and it’s happening anywhere. The only place where it isn’t happening is Europe because we’ve outsourced it to American companies.
If you think UBI might work at giving people hope and readjusting the economy in a more just and fair way, sticking it to the oligarchs, vote for Yang. If you just want $1,000 a month, vote for Yang. If you think UBI would crash everything, vote for Yang, as this gay earth deserves crashing. If you just want UBI to show people that democracy inevitable ends with the people voting themselves money and thus proving democracy is a sham and discredit it as a political system, vote for Yang.
And if you want the final death of 20th century politics, and a new paradigm which breaks with the thievery of Boomers inflating the currency so that asset prices are rising through new records every year, while young people have to go through unpaid internships and ‘gig economy’ servitude until their 40s, while the Bioleninist government is busy with the soft genocide of every productive person with natural biological instincts.
Then Vote for Yang. I rest my case.
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multi-fan-dom-madness · 8 years ago
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JaxCon 2017
Wow. Just wow. I’ve not stopped internally screaming since I stepped foot in the hotel where the convention was being held. That feat becomes much more ridiculous the further away from JaxCon we get, but then again, I’m always screaming about something. So, without further ado, here’s how JaxCon 2017 went down in the eyes of a first-time conventioner. (Sidenote: what even is the term for a person who attends a convention? Is there a term? Because there should be if there isn’t already.) (Another sidenote: I have literally 13 other videos, one of which is Matt and Rob doing imitations, which is always hilarious, so if you want those just lemme know. Now keep reading :P )
THURSDAY
I went to this convention with my mom. It had been a high school graduation present for me last June, so for months and months I’d been dreaming about what it would be like, what would happen, who I’d meet, what I’d say. I can confidently say that no amount of daydreaming (or even dreaming in general) can prepare one for the atmosphere and the pace of a convention. We rolled into Jacksonville around 8 o’clock, but by some cruel twist of fate, we did not end up eating dinner until after midnight. Thank Chuck god for early registration. I went to bed after reading a mind-numbing 30+ pages of my Colonial America history textbook. Yay me.
FRIDAY
We were up early, on account of my need to take care of some homework before the weekend’s shenanigans got underway. But as soon as work was finished, we were ready to roll and boy, did things roll. After a quick exploration of the vendor hall, I made the spur-of-the-moment decision to buy photo ops with Rob and Richard (separate). My mom looked surprised, I guess because after all my antics about how much I love Lucifer, I went with God. Anyways.
As much as I love J2, I can proudly say that Rob and Richard made my top 5 favorite things of the con. Aside from being utterly adorable awesome, the men are geniuses. I mean, who else stands in front of a full convention hall and declares, “We love KoC!” (And if you don’t know how to pronounce it for whatever reason, it sounds exactly the way it looks.) Friday would also begin the weekend-long trend of referencing “lumbersexuality,” as well as the entire cast’s undivided support and admiration of the Women’s Marches occurring all over the country.
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First panel of the day was the lovely Alaina Huffman (Abaddon). She’s so pretty!!! And funny!!! And amazing!!! Unfortunately, none of my photos of her came out any kind of decent, which really sucks, because she is really beautiful. She talked about her background in modeling and how she became an actress. But by far my favorite quote from her was:
“You guys write porn about us. It’s weird.”
Apparently she had either been sent or had found (I forget which) a fic in which Abaddon was with Dean, who was wearing a very nice pair of pink panties. Props to whoever wrote that.
Next up was Death himself, Julian Richings. Apparently none of my photos of him turned out decent, either. Regardless, I think the best part about his panel was his uncanny ability to sound like either Ron or Harry from Potter Puppet Pals depending on how he was talking. In his “I’m from England and this American stuff is all new to me!” bit, he sounds like Ron. When discussing why he gets cast as the “bad guy” in certain productions, he is able to imitate Harry as he lists the two things necessary for a villain: cheekbones and an accent.
He also told his concussion story, which apparently had kept Rich up the night before. I don’t have video of it, but if you can find it, it’s pretty hilarious. Long story short, he was running to catch a bus/trolley/some form of public transportation when he ran headfirst into one of those clear bus stop walls, knocking him over backwards. Forehead bleeding, concussed, a knot the size of an egg where he hit the glass. He’s a crazy old guy, but he’s got great energy. I admire that.
Jason Manns. Unf. What can I say about Jason Manns other than he was unexpectedly and wholly attractive and so sweet. He’s honestly such a nice guy. He told us how he tried using his Apple Watch to scan his airplane tickets. Someone said he was being hipster. He replied, “It would be hipster if I did it right. It was much more dad the way I did it.” Basically, he was trying to scan a ticket at the wrong gate, holding up a line of people, and only after about five minutes of confusion the airport people realized what was going on.
Someone asked him something about how he gets his lyrics/writing to be the way he wants them. The two things he said that stood out to me were:
“Art is not perfect.”
&
“Not trying to be perfect is the way to get it closest to perfect.”
Simple advice, really. Hard to put into practice, though.
He sang “Stand by Me” and then the question right after that was about what song he thought fit his life, and he said, “I wish you would’ve asked that before I played that song, but um, I’d like to think that Stand by Me would be that song for me.”
I got to ask him a question!!! Excitement!!! Here’s the gist of what happened: I asked what it was like working with Jared and Misha on the Christmas album a few years back. Jason explains that he enjoys collaborating with a lot of people and makes the point that those two are some of the busiest guys you’ll ever meet, so he had about two hours to record their songs. Ends with, “Somewhere in that long rambling attempt, did I answer your question?” Cutie. (I’d embed the video but Tumblr only allows for 5 videos. Sigh.)
He also sang two songs with Rob, but for whatever reason only one of the videos actually works, and it’s the better of the two songs anyways (in my opinion, at least), so enjoy that:
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Oh, and as a follow-up type question to mine, someone else asked about the Christmas album as well. They wanted to know why he chose to switch the traditional gender roles in “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” His answer?
“I think we can all agree it’s kind of a rape-y song.”
He also wanted to recreate the original scene that that song was choreographed to, but it never happened. There’s always hope, though!
Last came Gabe Tigerman, who was filling the space that Emily Swallow was supposed to be in. (Kinda bummed she didn’t get to make it, but hey, Gabe was hilarious so I guess it worked out alright.) He got asked if he would ever go on a ghost hunt with Chad Lindberg. He rejected the idea right away, because Chad is always talking about how he got scratched by like, a demon, “but it’s fun! You should come!” or how something followed Chad home, “but you should come!” Gabe was like, 
“I don’t like ghosts, and maybe that’s close-minded of me.”
On the subject of Chad - someone asked Gabe what he thought his character Andy’s personal heaven would be like. He started out describing a very Scooby-Doo-esque scenario in which Ash and Andy would just drive around heaven, and then it turned into a discussion of a fanfic he’d seen involving Ash and Andy (or Chad and Gabe, I don’t remember which to be honest). After about five minutes of recounting this fanfic experience, he stops and goes, “I just learned a lot about myself, wow.”
He also recounted his college road trip for us, which was one of the funniest stories I’ve heard in a while. If you haven’t heard it, go look it up. It’s about the world’s largest groundhog (which turned out to be the world’s largest groundhog statue) and the world’s only 5- and 6-legged cows. Seriously. Just YouTube it. I’m cracking up writing about it.
And that was it for Friday’s panels. But there were autograph signings by Richard, Gabe, Alaina, and Julian and we did those. Since they were pretty much on schedule that day, we got to have our autographs personalized. My name is kind of a weird one - Rhiannon - and at first I was only going to have them put “Rhi” simply because it’s easier to write, easier to spell, etc. But I changed my mind and put my full name.
Richard looked at it, started writing it, and when he got to the second “n” he freezes and goes, “Wait. Did I do that right? That’s a lot of n’s.” 
PSA: If you have not yet noticed, Rich has some of the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something because I’ve also seen Jensen’s eyes up close. Fuck, man. Sunlight through whiskey, indeed.
Anyways. Gabe looked at my name and held up a finger as he spelled it out. “R-H-I-A-N-N-O-N. Is that right?” The volunteer at the table asked my mom, who was behind me, where she wanted him to sign her thing. She said he could sign it wherever - hell, he could draw a flower for all she cared. He looked up and grinned and said, “Oh, you’re getting a flower.” And he drew one for her. 
Alaina didn’t even blink at my name, just wrote it out like she did it every day. She told us that her kids all have unique names, and that it was because of her ex-husband, but she was like, “Really, you want to give our kids weird names? Okay, John.” She’s so cute, I love her.
Julian looked at it and asked, “Is it Welsh?” My mom and I both answered that it was and he asked what it meant. My mom said something about how it means goddess, water nymph, witch - and that I embody every single one of those. (I’m flipping my hair right now. Bow before me, peasants, I am your goddess.)
After that we had a bit of a break, so we ate dinner and then sat around for like an hour and a half before the karaoke party started. Once it started, it was great. We had Matt Cohen and Rich dressed up quite hilariously-
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And if you haven’t heard about it yet, this is where Matt’s moose knuckle comes into play.
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His mustache kept falling off and he had glue running into his mouth, poor dude. He and Rich were great, though. They made all the karaoke participants run in front of the stage whenever there was an instrumental break in their song. They were joined by all the people who had panels that day, as well as Rob, Jason Manns, and his college buddy Hayden Lee. Look at these precious friends.
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Somewhere in the midst of practically screaming the words to all the songs, I realized I had a much bigger crush on Rob than I originally thought. It was one of those odd moments where you can feel yourself slipping down the slope of “oh god they’re really great I love them” and I’m still sliding down that incline. I’ve had like five Louden Swain songs stuck in my head for the past couple days, send help.
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Anyways. Somehow the people singing karaoke went from nice classic rock to Toxic and Hollaback Girl and shit like that. It was weird. But a good time.
SATURDAY
Explored the vendor hall some more after we had breakfast. I found this shirt-
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which I thought was great. Should’ve got it - I was a Friday person - but I didn’t. Oh well. Next time. After the vendor hall we had to go sit in the ballroom for the opening bit by Rob and Rich. They talked a little about the Women’s Marches going on all across the country, but veered off course when Rich missed the second “r” in Rob’s name, calling him “Robbit.” (Rob replied by calling Rich “Richad.”) One of them mentioned the similarity to The Hobbit. They called the Shire “the Squire” and “Hobbitville” and said,
“We’re not the tallest guys but we are the tallest Hobbits.”
One of them (I think Rob? Correct me if I’m wrong) spoke as a Hobbit in a high voice. Rich was like, 
“In the new Trump America, Hobbits have high voices.”
They talked about deporting all the Hobbits in the country, building a wall around the Squire, etc. And then somehow the topic moved onto Rich’s ice cream van. If you can find a video of this, please please PLEASE watch it. Funny shit. My favorite interaction to come out of it, though, was:
Rich: I do have a van.
Rob: Don’t...don’t get in Richard’s van.
Rich continued the trend of calling Rob “Bobbo” which I will never ever let go of. If I ever get around to writing all the Rob fic ideas I have now, he’s being called “Bobbo” at least once in all of them. Sorry not sorry.
I don’t really remember much else from their introduction on Saturday except Rich proclaiming,
“We are all parishioners in the High Church of the Holy Dick!”
To which I had to “woot!” in agreement because, I mean, c’mon. I’m totally a part of that now.
Jim Beaver was the first panel of Saturday morning. According to him, the elixir of life is Dr. Pepper, which I wholeheartedly second. Early on, he was asked a question pertaining to what he was recognized most for, Bobby or some other character. He said,
“A lot of people recognize me from prison.”
And when everyone laughed:
“I used to do outreach programs, what did you think I meant?”
He was asked how he prepared for the scene where Bobby dies, and he said, “I just...pretended I was dying.” He also said that during that entire scene, Jared was twisting his toes so it was a bit difficult to act like he was dying when that was happening. Towards the end of his panel, someone asked him what he would rename vampires. His answer:
“What’s wrong with callin’ them vampires? ... Toothy fang buddies.”
So now that we have a new name for vampires, I expect you all to adjust your lives accordingly. Petition for Twilight to be remade specifically for the purpose of replacing every instance of the word “vampire” with “toothy fang buddy.” (I’m laughing at my own idea, but just imagine: “Say it. Out loud.” “A toothy fang buddy.” Dear god I crack myself up.)
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After Jim, it was Mark Pellegrino. Though his entire panel was extremely entertaining, the only things I wrote down had to do with what Lucifer did in the cage with Sam, Adam, and Michael as well as pre-release. To the first one, Mark said that the last time he answered that question, he’d been attacked on Twitter for merely suggesting that they were all getting it on, basically. So he changed his answer to, “A perennial game of strip poker.” (Someone write the fic.) In answer to what Lucifer did before he was freed from the cage, he said,
“Whatever he was doing with the others, he did with himself. Take that however you want.”
Somewhere in the panel, someone asked him how they could go about showing that they were a Supernatural fan without looking like a Satanist. Mark basically told the person to think about what other people think and say, “Fuck ’em.” Middle fingers all the way. Who cares what they think? Solid advice.
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After Mark went off-stage, there was a bit of a break during which Rob was signing some things and the Misha photo op was going on. I had that photo op, and it was my first one, and I honestly don’t remember much about it, but here’s what I do remember.
I remember going upstairs to the room where they had the photos set up. As soon as I saw Misha, that was it, I started freaking out almost as bad as the girl in front of me. But the closer I got, the more I calmed down, mostly because he’s really tall and I was so focused on that I forgot why I was nervous. Like, I’ve seen posts about how he’s actually a normal-sized human being but damn, you don’t realize just how tall he really is until you’re about 10 feet away from him, starstruck.
When it was my turn, I just kinda forced the words out past the residual nerves and asked, “Can we do back-to-back with our arms crossed?” He gave a little nod and that was that. I looked up at him right after and thanked him. (My internal monologue at this point was something like: “holy shit this is Misha Collins his eyes are sO BLUE WHAT THE FUCK.”) As soon as I walked away I started crying, but I calmed down pretty quickly. Here’s how that op turned out:
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Right after that, we had to go back downstairs for Mark Sheppard’s panel. I knew going into it that he has the tendency to make fun of the people asking the questions, but my mom did not know and so the first person he messed with she looked at me like, “What the hell???” But Crowley is one of her favorites and she soon was in tears laughing so hard. Just some quick interactions:
Fan: What’s it like being the King of Hell? Mark: I don’t know, I’m an actor who plays him.
A fan in the crowd hands him a rose. Mark: *to the fan asking a question* Yeah, I got a rose, you can go home now.
A fan dressed as Castiel is asking a question. Mark interrupts to ask who they’re dressed as.  "Um ... Castiel?” “Who’s she?”
A fan has their question written on their phone. Mark looks at it and says, “Will Crowley ever be the King of Hell aga- go away.”
After a fan calls him pretty: “I haven’t been called pretty in a long time. But it’s nice, and I appreciate it.”
He also stopped to play with probably every baby in the room. He’s such a dad, it’s so cute. 
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After that was another break, so we were going to eat lunch, but as we were walking through the vendor hall, Louden Swain came out to their table to do a quick acoustic performance. Jason Manns and Hayden Lee joined them. We got lucky; we were able to be at the front of the crowd, close to the table, so that was super cool. In order, the songs are called “Night Light,” “Revolution,” and “Stowaway.” Here’s the full performance:
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Afterwards we were also lucky enough to catch Jason and he was kind enough to take a quick photo. Like I said, real sweet guy. Also very big and I mean that in the best way because he made me feel small and I could get used to that. I did get used to that, actually, by the end of the con. I’m 5′2″, I can’t really feel anything but small. But anyways, Jason was great and he’s adorable. 
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Not long after that was my photo op with Rob. He’s such a cutie oh my dear lord. I was one of the first maybe 20 or 30 to take a photo with him. When it was my turn, I asked, “Can you hug me from behind?” He was like, “Yeah!” (So cute, ugh.) After, I turned and thanked him and he said, “Thank you.” Maybe had a hand on my back/shoulder? I don’t remember. I was freaking out too much. He’s seriously attractive and I still can’t handle it.
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Next was the panel with Rob, Rich, and Matt. Very first question was about the train story, so we got a super abridged version of that. Someone else asked if they could do their impressions of each other.
My favorite part of their panel was when Rob was asked what he would do to Rich and Matt if he had God’s powers for a day. Someone suggested making them make-out. Rob laughed and then gave his answer. I didn’t get the full quote, but this is basically the gist of it:
“I’d make Rich my go-get-me guy. You know, like, I left my bag in my room, go get me it. ... And Matt, Matt would be my body guard. ... And then I’d make them make-out.”
Rob was also asked how God would come back to the show. He said, “Sam or Dean would be praying, and I’d just walk around the corner, eating a bowl of cereal in my boxer shorts. ‘You called?’”
Look at these cuties.
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Misha was the last panel on Saturday.
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I didn’t realize until making this post that Misha’s feet are off the ground. Dorks. Anyways, the four big things I remember from him are:
House lights come up. Misha looks out at the audience and says, “Wow, this is almost as many people as were at Trump’s inauguration.”
A man asked a question but started with, “She said she’d hit me if I didn’t come ask you this.” Misha went on to interrogate the man about his marriage to this “she” only to find out that the woman in question was the man’s daughter. Misha’s face was priceless.
He was asked which bad habit of his he didn’t want his kids to inherit. He went on a rant about technology, and as soon as he finished, his phone rang. It was his mother-in-law, but when he called her back she said she hadn’t tried to call. She was so cute to listen to.
Someone asked about his internship at the White House. He said he expected it to be much more political, but they had him licking stamps all day. He told us, “I remember thinking, ‘This isn’t fun, I don’t like licking stamps’ - which is not entirely true. They’re kinda tasty.”
Me too, Misha, me too.
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After that was my photo op with Rich. I was a little less nervous for this one than the previous two, but I mean it’s Richard Speight, Jr. of course I was excited. I got up to him and said, “Hi!” He said, “Hi, how ya doing?” to which I replied, “Good! Can you hug me from behind?” (I’m so original, I know.) He was like, “I sure can!” And like the other two, I thanked him afterward and he said thank you as well, one hand on my back. Squee!
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As soon as that was done, we headed back downstairs for the next round of autographs: Mark Sheppard, Matt, Misha, and Mark Pellegrino. These went quick, because they were running a little behind schedule, so no personalization on these, sadly., except from Pellegrino Mark Sheppard asked me if I was having fun, to which I replied, “Yes! Very much fun.” There’s that wonderful English I was talking about earlier. Matt said he was going to take his two year-old to Disney Land in Cali. Misha didn’t say anything. Straight faced the entire time. Was a little unsettling. But I suppose that’s Misha. Mark Pellegrino was super nice. The woman in front of me shared a name with his mother, and my mom was like, “I bet no one in your family has her name” (”her” meaning mine). He kinda laughed and said, “Nope.” He wrote “Love you!” on it but at first I thought it was “fuck you!” and honestly I would’ve been happy either way.
We finally ate dinner. And then it was the Saturday Night Special with Louden Swain. We all got kazoos and glow sticks! We also raised over $5,000 just in the ballroom alone, for a total of more than $70,000 overall. It was nuts. When Misha announced it towards the end of the show, he got quiet and went, “Holy shit.” The show itself was amazing. I’m just going to put a few of the videos, but know that they also sang “No Time Like the Present,” “Whipping Post,” “Fare Thee Well,” “Wagon Wheel,” “Juliet,” “Amazing,” and some others (not in that order but you get the idea). The only thing I will say is that between songs, someone yelled that Rob gives good hugs. He asked, “What was the question? Free hugs?” The fan repeated their statement and Rob grinned really big and said, “Oh! Thank you. I- I like to give hugs.” Could he be any friggin’ cuter? (The answer is yes. So much yes.)
Superman - Rob and Rich
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She Waits - such raw emotion from Rob. He’s a beautiful singer. Fuck. (Sidenote: after this song he got really quiet and got that 50-yard stare and I just. I love him. Precious man.)
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Medicated - ft. the best kazoo solo ever (please listen to all the comments Rob makes because they’re hilarious. And so are Rich and Pellegrino trying to smoke their kazoos. This is also where the “Goddammit I love you” comes from.)
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And that was the end of our Saturday night! Well, sort of. I'm pretty sure when we got back to our room I went and read some fanfiction, and my mom was like, “What are you reading?” After a long pause, I answered, “Fanfiction.” I read a bit more and then my mom told me to go to bed and said something about it being weird that I was reading porn in the same room as her. I believe her exact words were, “That’s kind of fucked up.” In my defense, only one of the five quick fics I read were porn, as she put it.
SUNDAY
First thing Sunday morning was the J2 Gold Panel. And yes this is when Jensen was asked the Destiel question, I don’t wanna talk about it, don’t ask me about it, just stop with it. It happened, now move on.
Jensen said that on set, whenever Jared doesn’t want to laugh out loud, he just hums. Straight up hums.
Someone asked them what Jared and Jensen would tell Sam and Dean and what Sam and Dean would tell Jared and Jensen. Jared replied, “As Jared, I’d tell Sam that there’s probably some demons in Hawaii. And as Sam, I’d tell Jared to watch out for Ruby.” Jensen answered, “As Dean, I’d tell Jensen to enjoy his blissful domestic life. As Jensen, I’d tell Dean to oil the freakin’ hinges on the car doors.”
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I think after that was the Jensen photo op. I was shaking before I even got in line for it. As soon as I got in the room and saw him I started to tear up, but I held it together. About 60 seconds before it was my turn I decided I was just going to hug him - and I planned to say that - but once I stepped up next to him all I managed was, “Hi!” Damn his hair. Damn his height. Damn his eyes which were more hazel than green thanks to the shirt he wore. Just damn him. I don’t remember much except he was warm. I don’t even remember if I said thank you. As soon as I walked away, that was it, I started sobbing. Full on sobbing, with big fat tears and everything. Cried for probably half an hour, not gonna lie. He’s a beautiful human being.
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lOOK AT HIS TONGUE THOUGH OMG.
Once I calmed down, I redid my make-up and then we walked the vendor hall one more time so I could get a Louden Swain t-shirt (and also bought their new album, No Time Like the Present - go listen to it, it’s great). Not long after that was my photo op with Jared. I was less nervous for this one - must have gotten it out of my system after Jensen. Jared was so cute. And so, so, so very tall. When it was my turn I asked him, “Can you use me as an armrest, for the height difference?” He was like, “Yeah!” I managed to sneak in a quick hug right after and good GOD his back muscles, you guys. So firm, so defined. Anywho, this was my favorite op of the weekend.
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He’s so tall that his knee is bent even with his arm on my head. Amazing.
Right after that we ran back downstairs for the Louden Swain autograph signing and I talked to Rob!!! He’s so cute!!! No hesitation, I said, “I’m writing a story about you for my creative writing class.” He said, “Oh really?” and I was like, “Well, not you, more like God, but same difference, right?” My mom jumped in with, “She’s meeting you in an elevator.” I stepped to the side at this point as he had passed along the CD they were all signing, didn’t catch what he said (or even realize he said something until I noticed he was still looking at me). “Pardon?” I asked. He said, “That’s a good idea. Good luck!” and wINKED and I still haven’t come back to life from that yet. I’m a ghost now. He’s so goddamn pretty. Such blue eyes and a cute smile and I just. *buries face in hands*
Anyways. Jim Beaver had a Sunday panel. Here’s some of what stuck with me:
“I write pretty well when I get around to writing.”
(on kissing Mark Sheppard) “...it was like kissing a dirt sandwich with stubble. No, it was the most romantic day of my life. ... I don’t lose as much sleep over it as Mark Sheppard does. I’m not as needy as he is.”
“You’re asking me to be creative up here, which is more than I’m willing to do.”
(after answering about a Bobby and Rufus spin-off) “You guys would be there for an episode about a can of corn that was in an episode.”
“I really hate to disagree with the current administration, but there is actually a thing such as facts.”
After Jim, it was Jared and Jensen’s main panel. 
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Honestly the main things that stuck with me from this were that “Pudding!” was written as Sam's line, and that the grenade launcher scene wasn’t scripted. 
Oh, and we sang Happy Birthday to Clif after the last question.
Mark Sheppard’s Sunday panel was the last thing before autograph signings. I was working on homework for most of this panel (and by homework I mean my God story), so the only things I caught were:
“Lumbersexual? Sounds like a back issue.”
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“Word of the Day: Lumbersexual.”
After that Rob and Stephen sent us home and then the only thing left was the J2 autograph signings.
Oh, boy. We got Jensen first, and now that I had a little more time (because they really do rush you through the photo ops) it really hit me just how goddamn pretty he is. Obviously he’s an attractive guy, but in person? With the hair and the jawline and the lips and the eyes? Some lucky person ahead of us in line got the full force of the lip bite. Oh, to be that fortunate. Sigh.
Anyways. We get up there, in front of him, and after he asked how we were doing, my mom said something along the lines of, “I just wanted to thank you, because this show is the reason she is who she is, and her dad hasn’t always been the best dad, but you guys have kind of been like stand-in fathers for her.” She was tearing up and I just nodded in agreement and Jensen was smiling so soft at both of us - smile lines in full effect (did I mention he’s pretty?). I jumped in here and gestured to her crying and said, “She wouldn’t stop making fun of me earlier for not being able to say anything but ‘hi’ at the photo op.” That made him laugh and he looked at my photo and was like, “Look at that smile though!” Then he looked back up and grabbed my hand (*internal screaming intensifies*) then my mom’s and said that he loves hearing stories like that from fans. And that was that.
When we finally got up to Jared my mom had calmed down - like me, she got it out of her system. I had two things I wanted Jared to sign: my photo op with him, and this:
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It was a chalk piece I did at a local street painting festival in February 2016, and I got so many compliments on it just for the quote alone. So I stepped up to the table and the first thing Jared said was, “I like your shirt.” I handed the AKF photo to him to sign and he got this big grin on his face and asked, “What’s that?” My mom and I both were like, “That’s you!” He said, “I know that, but what is it?” I explained what it was, then gave him a smaller version of it, saying, “That one’s for you to keep.” He looked at it, looked at me, and said, “Wow. This is amazing. You’re amazing.” Gave me a high five (his hands are so huge, damn). My mom said, “You’re amazing” and Jared replied with, “Well, that’s only because I get to be around amazing people all day.” He put his copy of the photo in a little box with other things people had given him, then when he turned back around he grinned again and said, “Fuck that’s cool.”
So he signed the AKF one, then my mom again explained the impact both he and Jensen have had on me and how “she fell in love with the show and the characters and then with you as people and as fathers, because her father isn’t always around.” Jared said, “Well thank you for being part of the family.” I was like, “No thank you.” Because seriously, without them, none of this would be possible as a fandom. Then he went to sign my photo op and said, “Now I feel bad for putting my arm on your head.” We laughed and said it was perfectly fine.
My mom asked real quick if he could write out “always keep fighting” for the tattoo I’m going to be getting, and the people at the table were like, “You only had two autographs” or whatever but Jared immediately said, “No I’ll write it. My handwriting is horrible, though.”
And that was it. I’m still overwhelmed by it all. Meeting them has been my dream for years. It doesn’t really feel real. But hey, Jared said I’m amazing and Jensen held my hand and Rob winked at me (and liked my tweet!!!), so I’m happy. Can’t wait to see what surprises the next go-round brings. But until then, stay lovely.
(If you’ve made it this far, congrats! I apologize for the ridiculous length. But while I have you here, if you have any fic ideas/requests, my inbox is always open.)
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gigapoodle · 8 years ago
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My Big Ass Long Necessary Rant Post Comparing Persona 3 and 4
Literally the most indulgent shit ever I just beat P4 and I gotta talk about it turn your eyes away unless you care for some reason
Things Persona 4 Did Better Than Persona 3
-The Social Links, oh MAN they were so much better in this game. Persona 3 had some pretty mediocre Links (Tanaka and that one fat cult kid immediately come to mind, also the student club kid who was obsessed with the cigarette). I don’t think any of the links were bad at all? Hell even the ones that I thought were gonna go sour (the Nurse one started off rough) ended up taking a really interesting turn. I also think that P3 relied too much on Social Links for random people I don’t care about, whereas so many of the SLs in P4 were already established, like Nanako and Dojima, all of the investigation friends (seriously P3, why couldn’t I SL Akihiko or Junpei?? What the hell???). It was just so much more rewarding in the end and I loved all of them. 
-To add on to the point above without making the paragraph too long; I like how all of your friends were INVOLVED in the plot before you even get to do their SL. The whole Shadow Self thing was so clever and made the characters so much more interesting. Like Kanji? SO interesting. Struggling with concepts of masculinity and his own self image, and you know all of this BEFORE you even start the SL, so when you do get around to it it is much more interesting and fleshed out. I’m so happy about all of this
-The whole Romance thing. P3 handled it terribly. Apparently in P3 I wanted to date everyone (no choice on just being friends!) and if I talked to too many girls it would screw up the whole system. In P4 everybody still wants to fuck you but at least it doesn’t screw up my other SL links thank God (but I would like it if I didn’t have to be romantically interested in every girl plz and thank you)
-THANK GOD I COULD CONTROL MY TEAM LIKE HOLY SHIT....thank GOD. Now they actually felt like super strong teammates with something on the line rather than robots who I hoped wouldn’t do something fucking stupid. (I’m pretty sure Junpei killed himself literally 10 times during the Nyx fight and I couldnt’ do anything but watch.) 
-P4 protag was still the most powerful member of the team but wasn’t blatantly OP like P3 protag
-Being able to look at what the fuck my skills actually did was a godsend (like I remember the difference between Masukukaja and Marakukaja, jesus) 
-Social events were generally funnier and better. I laughed like 10x more in this game than in P3. (God bless Kanji and Yosuke tbh)
-The individualized dungeons were much more fun to go through. Tartarus becomes a fucking drag around level 150, but jumping from a sauna to a strip club to an underground secret base? LOVE IT
-Music was generally catchier and I found myself humming along too it way too often 
-Way more save points, thank GOD (although they did screw me over at one point so this isn’t that much of a bonus)
-I like that when Rise couldn’t scan the enemy for weaknesses, I just had to figure them out on my own. Made the dungeons enjoyably harder. I also appreciate that healing spells cost less in this game, considering how much you need them. 
-Having the after-battle reward be basically ONLY personas was a smart move. The addiction of the Tarot Card Bonus/Drawback was a super neat feature as well that I absolutely loved. 
-Rise got on my nerves much less as an announcer lady than Fuuka. (Teddie was the worst though. Thank god we only had him for a little while.)
Things Persona 3 Did Better Than Persona 4:
-Even though P4 made a huge improvement with the battle system by allowing you to control your teammates, P3 had a vastly better battle system imo. The three different physical attacks (Slash/Strike/Pierce or whatever) made physical attacks actually feel lie they matter. P4′s system was way too watered down and as a consequence I never used Light/Dark ONCE and it felt a little too easy. 
-Better pacing. There were set dates for when I had to finish dungeons of Tartarus, and I could do whatever I wanted during those times. Afternoons were always free for SLs since exploration was at night. In P4, the fact that dungeon crawling took up an entire afternoon on top of the fact that I never really knew when the fog was gonna settle in made it hard for me to plan out everything. (I ended up having a lot of unfished SLs in P4 which pisses me off.) (P4 tries to make up for this by moving some SLs into the evening but it wasn’t enough.)
-Much better ending. Once you found out who the killer was for P4, everything just felt anticlimatic. His boss battle wasn’t even that bad. And then he turns out to be the opening battle for some weird God eye that I don’t give a shit about. It felt like nothing was really at stake and it was just weird. But P3? You knew your damn destiny. The world was gonna end and you literally had no hope but you fought anyways. The entire MONTH leading up to that felt so somber and powerful. Climbing up the stairs on that final day to battle the Strega members and then finally, Nyx (in a boss battle that took a HOUR AND A HALF on top of some cool symbolic shit where the protagonist literally dies) it as just...something, man. And then everyone meets on the roof as you die, like...it’s so neat. P4 felt like they were trying to live up to that while still keeping the wacky cartoony vibe and it didn’t work out. 
-The theme was much stronger in this game, and holy shit was it powerful. I get that P4′s whole thing was discovering the True Self, but it doesn’t really tie into the ending imo, nor the murder mystery shit. P3′s theme of Death is much more powerful and well written in the story. Everyone in this game has had at least ONE person die in their life, and seeing how everyone copes with it is sooo interesting. And dealing with the futile fact that everyone dies eventually with Nyx like....so fucking cool. And to top it all off, YOU die. The P4 protag doesn’t discover shit about himself (maybe in Golden? idk). Very very cool 
-Evokers are way way way cooler than some fog glasses. 
-Music was much better in this game. It was so damn unique. And it worked! It was weird and kinda glitchy at times but it worked so damn well! 
-More on the battle system - I’m really sad they took away group member healing in P4 because that was so helpful. I’m also sad they took away general healing of everything whenever you went back to the base of Tartarus. That made it so much easier to grind and just get through Tartarus. Forcing me to only heal SP by paying the fox a shitton of money (and man this is the first RPG I’ve played in a while where money was actually on shortage and a problem) made it suck. It took away precious time from SLs that I needed. 
Things They Both Need To Work On:
-Is Japan just super fucky about social issues? It was way worse in P3 but man do I feel played over by P4. Like the whole Kanji thing, CLEARLY his Shadow stuff was alluding to him possibly being gay, but they pull the rug under form you at the last second and throw that out the window. Same with Naoto - there was literally DIALOGUE about how she wanted to be a man but they threw that away too! Why??! They gotta stop skirting around these things. Also why are all of the dudes so pervy in these games? Junpei and Yosuke sucked about that, both games HAD to have a weird men-accidentally-walking-in-on-bathing-girls scene (P3 literally had a MINIGAME baed on it ffs). Also they are really mean about fat people in these games and always make them the butt of the joke. Stop it Persona 
-This Good Ending/Bad Ending shit. WAY worse in Persona 4 but P3 still had it. I think that’s part of the reason why P4′s ending was eh? because even though you face the final boss, of course there’s a TRUE ending where you face ACTUAL God instead of EYEBALL God. Ugh. Also they made it way way WAY too easy to get the Bad Ending in P4. Like you literally have to use a guide not to get the Bad Ending. At least P3 made it very obvious how not to get the Bad Ending and they didn’t do any of that true ending bullshit.... (I guess they kinda did with The Answer but THE POINT IS STOP WITH THESE MULTIPLE-HOUR ENDINGS GOD)
-Please give me female friendships where they don’t end in fucking. It complicates things so much and makes me feel weird. 
Overall Verdict:
I like them both equally and cannot place one over the other. Persona 3 felt more cohesive and satisfying but Persona 4 had a better cast and was arguably more enjoyable. I think that P3 will always have a special place in my heart since it was my first Persona game and it just fucking blew me away, on top of the fact that it took me about 4 months to complete whereas Persona 4 took me like 3 weeks (whoops). I think that Persona 4 tried to tackle too much (murder mystery while also keeping their whole ‘facing god and humanity’s fragility and flaws’ thing) whereas Persona 3 arguably did too little at times. But in the end this game is probably now my 2nd favorite series (behind Fire Emblem) and you can bet your sweet ass I’m getting P5 literally the moment it comes out. I’m almost salivating over it. I’ve already got PQ and P4A to tide me over while I wait so! 
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