#so i cannot in good conscience call them my favorites
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i made this post watching wedding of river song but now that i've watched all of nuwho here's my assessment of all the finales lol
rtd1 era
bad wolf/parting of ways made me go into a temporary doctor who divorce where i went and watched a whole other show bc i knew if i jumped into ten's run immediately i would have hated him forever
doomsday gave me brain damage. literally no other way to describe it other than it gave me brain damage and i realized that the show could actually genuinely wreck me
utopia/sound of drums/last of the timelords is great! obviously raisin ten/jesus fairy ten in LOTTL is goofy but on the rewatch i can appreciate what's being done there. ten can be earth's savior but he still loses in the ways that matter to him in the end bc everybody leaves him and he can't even say he doesn't deserve that. martha is the real savior, the better doctor, and she's the one that walks away in the end in a better place. it's very good
i thought stolen earth/journey's end was slightly weak bc of the banger after banger of series 4 and how many self-serving cameos it had however upon returning i can appreciate the doctordonna brain damage above all else. i love u doctordonna forever
end of time made me cry so hard multiple times both of the times i watched it. worst episode ever i hate you rtd i hate you david tennant you will pay for your crimes
moffat era
i have an irrational anger towards pandorica opens/the big bang bc pandorica builds up so much to the doctor getting trapped in the Cube. and then he doesn't fucking get trapped. in the Cube. exclusively made for HIM. WHAT is AMY doing there. the last bit of the big bang re: amy bringing eleven back and eleven dancing at her wedding is v sweet though
i hated wedding of river song so much i made the original post
angels in manhattan is okay re: the tragedy, eleven's characterization however i don't like how amy has never really had a lot of agency throughout the story and her last decision is made exclusively to be w/ rory. the fact we're back to the "she has two choose between these two men in her life!!" of s5 is so. urgh
the 50th specials are so incredibly bad it's honestly impressive how much it feels specifically crafted for me to hate it
dark water/death in heaven... i love the setup and i love missy however when the show intentionally sets up clara/danny as "clara isn't actually super devoted to him she just loves the idea of having two lives she can control and getting what she wants" i don't really feel anything about them being together
hell bent can stay :)
i'm too angry at world enough and time/the doctor falls to judge them in any way that is close to fair
i hope twice upon a time explodes in a large fire
chibnall era
truly and honestly gun to my head i could not tell you anything about the plot of battle of ranskoor av kolos. it has completely left my mind. like a duck gliding on water
ascension of the cybermen/the timeless children is bad and i can see why ppl hated the timeless child retcon so much. the episodes are not amazing but dhawan!master slays so tremendously i love you babygirl
i could also not tell you anything about the plot of the vanquishers other than the fact flux started off mildly interesting to me and lost me completely as it went on
power of the doctor is mildly entertaining and i love u jodie i love u sacha but it is really sad—and i am speaking purely about my own emotional reaction to the episode—that the most exciting part to me was fourteen showing up. i'm so sorry guys
rtd2
the giggle gave me brain damage
rtd's finales are badly stacked conflicts that are suddenly solved by deus ex machina (but that doesn't matter bc it's filled with genuinely beautiful & heartwrenching character writing that will make you forget about everything) and moffat's finales are convoluted nonsense that make you confused as to what the fuck you're even watching. technically neither of these are good but between these two poisons i will pick the former every time
#my favorite finale of all of nuwho is... overall doomsday honestly#even though i don't shoot for tenrose like that#end of time and weat/tdf made me cry like a small baby but crucially they also made story decisions that made me so mad#so i cannot in good conscience call them my favorites
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One of my favorite excerpts of Jane Eyre (1847) taken from chapter 14:
“Yes, yes, you are right,” said he; “I have plenty of faults of my own: I know it, and I don’t wish to palliate them, I assure you. God wot I need not be too severe about others; I have a past existence, a series of deeds, a colour of life to contemplate within my own breast, which might well call my sneers and censures from my neighbours to myself. I started, or rather (for like other defaulters, I like to lay half the blame on ill fortune and adverse circumstances) was thrust on to a wrong tack at the age of one-and-twenty, and have never recovered the right course since: but I might have been very different; I might have been as good as you—wiser—almost as stainless. I envy you your peace of mind, your clean conscience, your unpolluted memory. Little girl, a memory without blot or contamination must be an exquisite treasure—an inexhaustible source of pure refreshment: is it not?”
“How was your memory when you were eighteen, sir?”
“All right then; limpid, salubrious: no gush of bilge water had turned it to fetid puddle. I was your equal at eighteen—quite your equal. Nature meant me to be, on the whole, a good man, Miss Eyre; one of the better kind, and you see I am not so. You would say you don’t see it; at least I flatter myself I read as much in your eye (beware, by-the-bye, what you express with that organ; I am quick at interpreting its language). Then take my word for it,—I am not a villain: you are not to suppose that—not to attribute to me any such bad eminence; but, owing, I verily believe, rather to circumstances than to my natural bent, I am a trite commonplace sinner, hackneyed in all the poor petty dissipations with which the rich and worthless try to put on life. Do you wonder that I avow this to you? Know, that in the course of your future life you will often find yourself elected the involuntary confidant of your acquaintances’ secrets: people will instinctively find out, as I have done, that it is not your forte to tell of yourself, but to listen while others talk of themselves; they will feel, too, that you listen with no malevolent scorn of their indiscretion, but with a kind of innate sympathy; not the less comforting and encouraging because it is very unobtrusive in its manifestations.”
“How do you know?—how can you guess all this, sir?”
“I know it well; therefore I proceed almost as freely as if I were writing my thoughts in a diary. You would say, I should have been superior to circumstances; so I should—so I should; but you see I was not. When fate wronged me, I had not the wisdom to remain cool: I turned desperate; then I degenerated. Now, when any vicious simpleton excites my disgust by his paltry ribaldry, I cannot flatter myself that I am better than he: I am forced to confess that he and I are on a level. I wish I had stood firm—God knows I do! Dread remorse when you are tempted to err, Miss Eyre; remorse is the poison of life.”
“Repentance is said to be its cure, sir.”
“It is not its cure. Reformation may be its cure; and I could reform—I have strength yet for that—if—but where is the use of thinking of it, hampered, burdened, cursed as I am? Besides, since happiness is irrevocably denied me, I have a right to get pleasure out of life: and I will get it, cost what it may.”
“Then you will degenerate still more, sir.”
“Possibly: yet why should I, if I can get sweet, fresh pleasure? And I may get it as sweet and fresh as the wild honey the bee gathers on the moor.”
“It will sting—it will taste bitter, sir.”
“How do you know?—you never tried it. How very serious—how very solemn you look: and you are as ignorant of the matter as this cameo head” (taking one from the mantelpiece). “You have no right to preach to me, you neophyte, that have not passed the porch of life, and are absolutely unacquainted with its mysteries.”
“I only remind you of your own words, sir: you said error brought remorse, and you pronounced remorse the poison of existence.”
“And who talks of error now? I scarcely think the notion that flittered across my brain was an error. I believe it was an inspiration rather than a temptation: it was very genial, very soothing—I know that. Here it comes again! It is no devil, I assure you; or if it be, it has put on the robes of an angel of light. I think I must admit so fair a guest when it asks entrance to my heart.”
“Distrust it, sir; it is not a true angel.”
“Once more, how do you know? By what instinct do you pretend to distinguish between a fallen seraph of the abyss and a messenger from the eternal throne—between a guide and a seducer?”
“I judged by your countenance, sir, which was troubled when you said the suggestion had returned upon you. I feel sure it will work you more misery if you listen to it.”
“Not at all—it bears the most gracious message in the world: for the rest, you are not my conscience-keeper, so don’t make yourself uneasy. Here, come in, bonny wanderer!”
He said this as if he spoke to a vision, viewless to any eye but his own; then, folding his arms, which he had half extended, on his chest, he seemed to enclose in their embrace the invisible being.
“Now,” he continued, again addressing me, “I have received the pilgrim—a disguised deity, as I verily believe. Already it has done me good: my heart was a sort of charnel; it will now be a shrine.”
“To speak truth, sir, I don’t understand you at all: I cannot keep up the conversation, because it has got out of my depth. Only one thing, I know: you said you were not as good as you should like to be, and that you regretted your own imperfection;—one thing I can comprehend: you intimated that to have a sullied memory was a perpetual bane. It seems to me, that if you tried hard, you would in time find it possible to become what you yourself would approve; and that if from this day you began with resolution to correct your thoughts and actions, you would in a few years have laid up a new and stainless store of recollections, to which you might revert with pleasure.”
“Justly thought; rightly said, Miss Eyre; and, at this moment, I am paving hell with energy.”
“Sir?”
“I am laying down good intentions, which I believe durable as flint. Certainly, my associates and pursuits shall be other than they have been.”
“And better?”
“And better—so much better as pure ore is than foul dross. You seem to doubt me; I don’t doubt myself: I know what my aim is, what my motives are; and at this moment I pass a law, unalterable as that of the Medes and Persians, that both are right.”
“They cannot be, sir, if they require a new statute to legalise them.”
“They are, Miss Eyre, though they absolutely require a new statute: unheard-of combinations of circumstances demand unheard-of rules.”
“That sounds a dangerous maxim, sir; because one can see at once that it is liable to abuse.”
“Sententious sage! so it is: but I swear by my household gods not to abuse it.”
“You are human and fallible.”
“I am: so are you—what then?”
“The human and fallible should not arrogate a power with which the divine and perfect alone can be safely intrusted.”
“What power?”
“That of saying of any strange, unsanctioned line of action,—‘Let it be right.’”
“‘Let it be right’—the very words: you have pronounced them.”
“May it be right then,” I said, as I rose, deeming it useless to continue a discourse which was all darkness to me; and, besides, sensible that the character of my interlocutor was beyond my penetration; at least, beyond its present reach; and feeling the uncertainty, the vague sense of insecurity, which accompanies a conviction of ignorance.
“Where are you going?”
“To put Adèle to bed: it is past her bedtime.”
“You are afraid of me, because I talk like a Sphynx.”
“Your language is enigmatical, sir: but though I am bewildered, I am certainly not afraid.”
“You are afraid—your self-love dreads a blunder.”
“In that sense I do feel apprehensive—I have no wish to talk nonsense.”
“If you did, it would be in such a grave, quiet manner, I should mistake it for sense. Do you never laugh, Miss Eyre? Don’t trouble yourself to answer—I see you laugh rarely; but you can laugh very merrily: believe me, you are not naturally austere, any more than I am naturally vicious. The Lowood constraint still clings to you somewhat; controlling your features, muffling your voice, and restricting your limbs; and you fear in the presence of a man and a brother—or father, or master, or what you will—to smile too gaily, speak too freely, or move too quickly: but, in time, I think you will learn to be natural with me, as I find it impossible to be conventional with you; and then your looks and movements will have more vivacity and variety than they dare offer now. I see at intervals the glance of a curious sort of bird through the close-set bars of a cage: a vivid, restless, resolute captive is there; were it but free, it would soar cloud-high. You are still bent on going?”
“It has struck nine, sir.”
#jane eyre#jane eyre 1847#19th century#1800s#charlotte brontë#charlotte bronte#the brontes#the brontë sisters#the brontës#mr. rochester#edward rochester#quotes#quote#bookblr#book#books#writing#romantic#victorian#excerpts#passages#favorite#love#regret
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Assassin's Monthly: Retirement is Just Fine
“Come on Sugary,” she asked, her chin resting in her hands, green eyes following the broad woman with the surprisingly delicate hands. “All I’m asking is for us to go get two cups of coffee.”
“Oh it is two cups now?” asked the woman with the French accent and slightly graying dark hair. “A moment ago it was only one.”
“It’s a negotiation tactic,” the middle aged woman shrugged.
“I see,” Sugary sighed. “But you know I cannot stand the piss you Americans call coffee.”
“I’ll make you some. I’ll roast the beans and grind them all by hand. The whole shebang.”
“Not in that dreadful thing you call a kitchen. I cannot set foot in there in good conscience. Lilith, it would not know fine cuisine if it was painted on the walls.”
“You drive a hard bargain Sugary. Fine. I’ll redo my kitchen. Rip it all out and go down to the studs. And I’ll get a fancy, modern kitchen with all the amenities and then you’ll come over for four cups of coffee.”
“Oh, we are all the way to four now?”
“If I’m redoing my whole kitchen? Yeah, four,” she said with a smile. Before she could continue a man in an expensive suit and a stylishly unshaven face entered the armory.
“Sherry!”
“Chérie,” the green eyed woman corrected him. “It is French.”
“I knew that,” he grumbled as he looked over the woman that corrected him.
Her face was starting to show lines of age. The little black dress she had on showed off as many scars at it did tattoos that were all starting to fade slightly from time. Her hair was also showing signs of losing its luster if not it’s color. But her eyes were as bright and fiery as they’d ever been.
“Holy shit!” the guy all but yelled. “It’s you!”
“Sugary? Who is this guy?” she asked without taking her eyes off of him.
“Relax,” the French woman responded. “He’s a headhunter for the old men up north. The Council? The Cloakroom? Whatever they call themselves these days.”
“You’re her! You’re the Queen of the Kill! You are the top contract killer ever! Oh man, I was actually at the rally when you killed that Senator! Oh, please tell me you’re here because Sherry’s making you a gun. Please tell me you’re back.”
“Nope. Still retired,” she said as she took her finger off the trigger on the concealed pistol she had trained on the man. “I just come in every week or so to try and convince my favorite gunsmith to get some coffee with me. And every time it ends up with me doing something outrageous. Today I’m apparently remodeling my entire kitchen.”
“If you’re doing some construction, it’ll cost you some decent money, and I can offer you a super easy job that’s basically just cash in pocket.”
“I don’t take jobs from people off the street. Besides I’m retired.”
“I know, I know, you’re out of the game. You stopped working, what, six years ago?”
“Seven.”
“But come on, I heard you take some jobs you find interesting or if you’re unnaturally bored. Since you retired you did three jobs, right?”
“Four.”
“God the bidding war over your last job was insane! My employers were very upset we got knocked out so early. Come on, how much did they pay you?”
“Thirteen,” she said lazily, still looking at Sugary who was smiling slightly while filling bullet casings with gunpowder.
“Million? Holy shit! Who orders a hit for thirteen million?”
“Seriously? I have confidentiality stuff. And don’t ask me how many people they paid to have offed either.”
The man sighed, “Can you at least tell me who it was for? I swear it was one of the Sheikhs.”
“Nope, a Canadian.”
“Really?”
“The fuck do you think?”
“Ok, ok. But the Consortium will pay you a million and a half to kill three people by the end of the month,” the man continued with his pitch.
The woman rolled her eyes.
“Look, it’ll be super easy. Three targets. The only restrictions are that they all have to be taken out at the same time, and it has to be by the end of the month. I can give you half a million per head.”
Sugary shrugged.
“Make it an even two million and you’ve got a deal,” she said.
“What about one point seven five million and I get you a meeting with the Italian home designer Benito. He’s my brother’s wife’s cousin. He can redo your whole kitchen into the fanciest fucking kitchen to ever exist.”
Sugary raised an eyebrow.
Seeing the look on the gunsmith’s face, the woman sighed and said, “Fine. I was bored anyways. I’ll do it, assuming everything works out with your credentials and stuff. And I guess I’ll need a gun Sugary.”
“Sugary?” the man asked. “I thought you said it was Chérie.”
“It’s French for ‘sweet’,” Lilith said. “You know sugary sweet? Ah never mind.”
“I don’t know where she got it either,” Sugary said.
“Either way. I’ll need a new gun. I’ll need the lightest hair trigger you got, and as little recoil as possible,” the woman mused.
Sugary reached across the small counter top between her and the woman and grabbed her to pull her into a kiss that lasted a few seconds too long to be strictly friendly.
“Oh to make a gun for you again? It would be a pleasure!”
“And I guess I’ll have to bring the coffee here since you’ll be working,” the woman sighed.
“You know I won’t accept-“
“I know, I know,” she said as she stood up and moved to leave the room. “A double espresso from that one place, with one cream and four sugars. I remember.”
“Merci my love.”
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This blog usually tells the weather’s story. Now, it shares my own.
Nearly half a century ago, I was born not far from here in Hope, Arkansas. My mother had been widowed three months before I was born. I was raised for four years by my grandparents, while she went back to nursing school. They didn't have much money. I spent a lot of time with my great-grandparents. By any standard, they were poor. But we didn't blame other people. We took responsibility for ourselves and for each other because we knew we could do better. I was raised to believe in the American dream, in family values, in individual responsibility, and in the obligation of government to help people who were doing the best they could.
I consider that the Golden Rule requires that if I like a weather pattern, I must share it with other people who like it. Weather hoarders want to divide the observers and conquer them, making each forecaster agree not to share with others. I refuse to break solidarity with other weather enthusiasts in this way. I cannot in good conscience sign a fair-weather agreement or a sunshine-only pact. For years, I worked within the Channel 4 Team to resist such tendencies and other atmospheric inhospitalities, but eventually they had gone too far: I could not remain in an institution where such things are done for me against my will.
You can call me MAX. English words like 'maximum' stem from a Greek root beginning with the letters μαχ…; and this same Greek word means weather as well as struggle. Hence the name MAX, which is an uppercase form of μαχ.
Insiders pronounce the x of MAX as a Greek chi, not as an 'x', so that MAX rhymes with the word thwaacchhh. It's the 'ch' sound in Scottish words like loch or German words like ach; it's a Spanish 'j' and a Russian 'kh'. When you say it correctly while gazing out the window at a beautiful sunrise, the window may become slightly moist.
The purpose of this pronunciation exercise is to remind you that MAX is concerned with tension between weather phenomena: its emphasis is on weather and struggle, as in the underlying Greek word. It's important to notice another thing about MAX’s name: The 'A' is out of kilter. This displaced 'A' is a reminder that UltraWeatherCoreMAX is about the full spectrum of weather, from spectacular to mundane, not just the ostensibly sunny highlights.
► EXERCISE 1.1: after you have mastered the material in this blog, what will you be: a Weather MAXster, or a Weather MAXrobat?
To accurately, efficiently, and completely describe the atmospheric conditions, meteorological variables, and weather patterns of any segment of time is neither the duty of a mortal man, nor within his reach. So an attempt to document the ever-changing nature, diverse manifestations, and far-reaching impacts of all weather is a catalyst for insanity. Instead, I would much prefer to accept the reasonable challenge of simply outlining some observations and experiences with weather phenomena, and my meek involvement with them. This will not be, by any means, comprehensive, as it is not my goal for it to be so; perhaps I will save that for a Tolstoy-sized novel many years down the road. Presently, read this blog with the purpose of fixing yourself in the local weather timeline and invoking more questions than are answered.
It’s time to relax, and you know what that means: a glass of wine, your favorite easy chair, and, of course, weather posts reblogged all over your feed.
#background#origin story#biography#coming clean#introduction#water#sea#sun#clouds#sky#rocks#cranes#linguistics#etymology#freedom#solidarity#reasonableness#relaxation
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hi! what are your favorite pieces of dragon age media besides the games? like comics, books, etc (or even games that aren’t part of the Main Trilogy)
hi i honestly have to say i don’t know many, i only got into da like a year ago and inexplicably still haven’t finished the third game either.
um the comics all look ugly as hell so i havent read them 💔 i’ve read four of the books and the masked empire is without question the best of the four by miles, but the other three were written by david gaider, so take that with a grain of salt. nonetheless, i would comfortably recommend the masked empire to any dragon age fan, and it did a lot for my understanding of the world. it has its flaws but i admire that it doesn’t pull punches and achieves a believable dark fantasy tone i haven’t seen since dao. as for gaider’s books, they do improve in quality as they go, so the third, asunder, is significantly more readable. worth it if you are particularly invested in circle mages and the mage rebellion, otherwise skip it. i cannot in good conscience recommend the stolen throne or the calling. don’t read those
i highly recommend the world of thedas guidebooks!! especially volume 2 which has a LOT of valuable character detail that cant be found elsewhere. i keep my copies always within reach
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A Review: Damsel
Readers, ye be warned, HERE BE MAJOR SPOILERS!
I got interested from the trailers on Facebook. Right up my alley, a genre medieval fantasy film with dragons, arranged marriages, lush sets, and a very unsubtle grrrl power message. I've never seen Brown in Stranger Things (a crime for sci-fi/fantasy fans, I know, I'll get around to it) but in a few smaller roles. The whole cast was a Who's Who list: Angela Bassett, Robin Wright, and Ray Winstone.
The movie obviously had a big budget, an all-star cast, and a good concept. It looked promising.
It was...mediocre. Very. My overall reaction was disappointment.
Brown was very good. There were great performances by all of the cast considering I've seen most of the stars in at least two other notable roles, but thought of them as these characters (as opposed to actors like Tom Cruise, who I always view as Tom Cruise no matter who he plays, same with Sandra Bullock and Brad Pitt).
But they had so little to work with.
This movie had good bones. The concept was all there for an epic, or at least a strong batch of characters and world-building. No, it was in no way an earth-shatteringly ground-breaking NEW idea. The concept is fairly formulaic. Maybe it's just me, but I don't care - give me a formulaic but well-written story over CREATIVE for the sake of it any day. (Okay, my example of this is one of my favorite films, The Chronicles of Riddick, so a connoisseur I cannot call myself. But you get the idea.)
But I came away from the film unsatisfied, because there was just so little meat on those bones. We know Brown's Elodie comes from a northern (kingdom? principality? fife?) with a harsh climate and grinding poverty where she does physical work to help serve her starving people. She had a mother (they always have dead mothers) whose memory she invokes at times, but a semi-affectionate relationship with her stepmother, Bassett's Lady Bayford. She has a younger sister she mutually adores and a noble, devoted father who also takes his duties to his people seriously.
But we don't know a damn thing about their fifedom except that all the trees have been cut for firewood, people are dining at Ye Olde Breadline, and the situation is so desperate as winter approach that Lord Bayford reluctantly sells his beloved daughter to be a human sacrifice disguised as a marriage. This universe has bride prices instead of dowries.
In the kingdom of Aurea, Wright's Queen Isabelle is suitably intimidating, manipulative, and morally bankrupt, King whateverthehellhisnameis never speaks, Prince Henry expresses some dismay over the fates of his bride(s) but goes along with it. We learn Elodie's is the second in a series of three ancient ceremonies - Aurea's first king sacrificed his three daughters for peace with the dragon and each subsequent generation must sacrifice three more women of royal blood.
Instead, Prince gets three hasty weddings in a row with some random foreign lady, a handshake with cut palms to make each bride's blood royal, chuck the bride into the chasm above the dragon's cave, debt paid. The dragon likes to play with her food, and Elodie has the wits to survive thanks to a head for maps and mazes (one of the only semi-developed character traits we got on her).
Lord Bayford leads a few searchers into the caves to rescue her, in a predictable attack of conscience, and also predictably gets dead after shouting for Elodie not to come to him and save herself when he's at the dragon's mercy. So she forgives him, but also develops sympathy for the dragon, whose three offspring were killed without provocation when the ancient king of Aurea invaded the dragon's lair. Someone on Lord Bayford's search party mentions value in dragon's blood, but this is never developed.
Elodie escapes, Dragon isn't happy and starts raining fire around the mountain, alerting Queen Isabelle that the debt has gone unpaid. She hustles to the ship where Lady Bayford and Elodie's little sister Floria haven't sailed away, and kidnaps Floria to be the new sacrifice. Lady Bayford is unfatally stabbed but manages to find Elodie in the hills and tell her what happened, leading Elodie to rush back.
Dragon, believing the princesses she slays every generation to be of the bloodline that murdered her own daughters, is enraged that Elodie got away and takes Floria deep into her lair as a trap for Elodie. A rather weak battle ensues with Elodie trying to explain the truth about her "royal blood" and Dragon predictably refusing to accept, until Elodie outwits her enough to leave her at death's door. She tells Dragon again about the "ancient ceremony" and notes that Dragon has effectively been doing what was done to her - killing innocent daughters who are not actually of the Aurea royal bloodline. Dragon miserably asks Elodie to kill her, but Elodie predictably (are we sensing a pattern here?) declines and finds magic grubs in the cave to heal the dragon.
Back at the Aurea palace, Prince Henry's wedding to Dupe # 3 is in progress until Elodie interrupts. Prince Henry makes a feeble protest of his regrets for Elodie's fate, only to be shouted down by Queen Isabelle and ignored by Elodie, who exposes the plot to # 3. # 3 wisely takes Elodie's advice to grab her family and GTFO.
Queen Isabelle predictably mocks Elodie's revenge, only for Dragon to show up on the ramparts and torch the whole royal family. Elodie sails back to home with her sister and Lady Bayford, planning to jointly rule home with her stepmother - accompanied by the Dragon.
And...that's it. I honestly don't have a problem with any element of the plot. It's just written so bare when there was so much room for more. Its running time was 110 minutes, and it felt stunted and short. The plot might have done better as a miniseries, with time to flesh out the world and the characters especially.
In the best genre fiction, the locations, histories, and cultures are often "characters" in and of themselves. See: Hogwarts, Middle Earth and all locations therein, Gallifrey, Time Lords, elves, hobbits, Vulcans, Klingons, Arrakis, Fremen, the list goes on and on. This seems to be a point that the writers of Damsel utterly and completely missed.
(What's with the masks in the ceremony?)
(Does the dragon really just chill out for decades at a time in her cave apart from toying with and then torching three princesses every generation?)
(How did the Aurea royal family manage to gather up three girls from other parts of the world every generation and bump them off without also killing their families to keep word from getting out?)
(Did Aurea get wealth as part of the deal with the Dragon? If not, where?)
(Where is Elodie/Lord Bayford's land? Is it part of a larger kingdom? If not, why isn't he a king?)
(Where the hell do all the flaming birdies come from? Wouldn't birds have figured out after that many centuries to stay the hell away from the mountain?)
In almost any type of fiction, the best stories have well-developed characters with enough details about why they are the way they are for the viewer/reader to understand why they act the way they choose in the story. This is a point that the writers of Damsel clearly knew, but either didn't know how to implement or simply chose not to.
It had a good trailer. It had an incredible cast. It was a good concept. It had POTENTIAL!
Major writing fail.
PS - Discovered just as I was about to post this that a novelization came out last year. I'll probably still buy it. Half of why I love The Chronicles of Riddick is Alan Dean Foster's novel. Maybe the book will redeem the world, but it'll just make the screenwriters look that much worse.
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the most fascinating thing to me abt the ongoing leftist atrocity denial re: what happened on oct 7 is the implication that the ppl continuing the atrocity denial seem to believe that acknowledging the reality of what was done would somehow make them less of a pro-palestine activist. there is footage and there are photos and there are survivor testimonies but ppl are plugging their ears and going "LALALALALA" and calling it propaganda and i think that is in part bc, while they say that hamas does not represent all palestinians (true! in fact palestinians should be free of hamas! it's a far right religious extremist org (like the current party in power in israel) whose leader is a rich asshole living a life of luxury in qatar while gaza is fucking carpet bombed and entire families are being wiped out. they haven't allowed an election in over a decade, they violently suppress dissent, and supporting their rise to power is explicitly one of bibi's strategies to keep palestinians from gaining freedom. like you are supporting bibi's favorite anti-liberation faction when you cheer on hamas' actions. personally i do not believe for even a second that they give a rat's ass about the lives of palestinians and they are in fact not the good guys just bc they hate israel but maybe i'm just a (((filthy zionist pig))) amirite?), they cannot separate the actions of hamas from the liberation movement as a whole, and they see condemning the org as a betrayal of palestinians... somehow. as if being unable to separate the actions of an extremist faction from the entire rest of the population of palestinians as a whole isn't... bad and kinda really racist and weird?????? and so so so many of them were the ppl celebrating the pogrom on oct 7 as a radical act of liberation (nobody was liberated. it made things worse.) that i think acknowledging that THIS is what they were celebrating creates such a powerful sense of cognitive dissonance for them that they have to deny it ever even happened. surely this wasn't real (but if it was, the victims DESERVED IT!), because that would mean there are people who are in fact bad and do bad things on the "side" they're rooting for, and we all know that your enemies are the only ones capable of doing wrong! it's sports team mentality.
acknowledging that atrocities happened does not make you less pro-palestine. it means you are recognizing reality. acknowledging that reality does not mean that suddenly you think the atrocities that were and are BEING committed by the IDF are excusable or didn't happen or whatever (and that's a fucking bizarre conclusion to make, but a conclusion i have seen many make nonetheless). both bad. bad thing real. even if it happened to the citizens of the country you hate. pretending it didn't happen is not an anticolonial win, it's just playing pretend about real human beings' real human lives and deaths. it helps nobody, except perhaps your wounded conscience.
also obligatory jew disclaimer bc i know you wanna call me a (((zionist))) soooooo bad: i'm not a fucking zionist, assholes. kiss my ass if that's all you gathered from this. i'm saying that denying reality is not a radical example of anticolonialism, it just makes you a dick.
#seraph speaks#will i lose followers or gain hate bc of this? perhaps!#am i tired of seeing rampant atrocity denialism on every damn socmed i'm on? YES!!!#and it's real incheresting that yall never pull this shit for anything else. like ANYTHING.#but when it's (mostly) jewish death and jewish suffering... well those k-I MEAN (((ZIONISTS))) MUST be lying.#and they have the whole mainstream media in their pockets too!!!#babes you can just say 'it happened and it's bad' and move on instead of being absolutely VILE about human suffering
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Wedding Homily
I want to tell you what an honor it is that I get to marry these two people today.
Mostly I want to say that I called it.
The first day I met Deidre, who I remember as being shy, funny enough, I had never seen Carlene so in love in all the 20 years or so that I had known her.
Carlene B. and Deidre W. have together what no one would be afraid to call true love. In our own minds, we probably all have some imaginary person we imagine each of our favorite people with, but without being too specific, all you can pray for is that whoever someone falls in love with is the one that transforms them into the most beneficial version of themselves. Whatever that happens to be.
Carlene and Deidre are essentially caricatures of success. They are each fully flourishing girl bosses at the top of their fields. Their lives are full of simple, unpretentious joys. Unless food can be pretentious, then, sorry Carlene. They are both good people, not just the kind of people that don’t hurt anybody, but two people who genuinely believe that their personal direct intervention is what their conscience requires of them when trouble comes to anyone in their lives. Daughters any parent would be proud of.
And while that has basically always been the case, it is unmistakable that Carlene and Deidre have discovered the kind of love in each other that nurtures and grows the good that is hidden deepest in us. True love drags you out of the dark. It tells you: you don’t know who you are yet, because as long as love is having its way with you, what is good in you and good in the world will surprise you in ways you never imagined possible.
There is something propulsive in love that is unique among the forces in the universe, where it grows and transforms whatever it touches. Carlene’s love for Deidre is not just good for Carlene. It’s good for Deidre. And the other way around.
Marriage is a public declaration, and as such, it points its way toward a love that transforms not just the personal lives of two people, but the world. Everyone we know is better off because we know two people who discovered true love. Their love declares to the world that it is possible and that life is good, actually. And there are two people who are stronger now together to help fight for the rest of us.
I know that my life is what it is because of Carlene and Deidre’s nurturing generosity and friendship. Not that I’ve ever helped anyone but myself, but theoretically that’s possible. And then what if they helped someone? You get the image I’m going for, at least.
Within love is the promise, or at least the possibility, of a better world, in which the love of two people like these is merely the cellular form. So, by all means, let these two blessed people be wed today, so like them, we might all be happier tomorrow.
We are gathered here today to bear witness to that rarest of things, something genuinely holy.
Here we have two people, Carlene B. and Deidre W., who are in love.
No one knows for certain how long love lasts, but we know that when we are in it, how long is not really the point.
With love, we are gifted a seed from eternity. And as such, it has a mind of its own.
The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going.
Love upsets what is false and comforts what is true.
Whatever seems impossible in life, whatever causes us to ask, “Can anyone be saved?” When in Biblical times, Jesus might say “With God, all things are possible.”
In our more modern, democratic times, more often than not, some fragment of the divine stumbles into our lives and saves us by proxy, instead.
Two people meant to fall in love find each other with miraculous precision, not unlike a laser-guided missile. You cannot help but notice, when something that resonates deep within yourself, resonates deep within someone else as well, as if each abyss had the same shape, or were created out of the same ancient cataclysm. Some stranger is suddenly in your life like a soft cool breeze through the door, though they bring with them the possibility of a storm on its way, and the sound of explosions in the distance.
Letting someone close is not anything we’re in the habit of doing. That’s not human nature, so we are told. But every once in a while, someone comes around and you know you want them to be as close as possible. What you cannot tell anyone, what is most trivial in your mind, what is most sacred, all the places within yourself you hope no one ever sees, you find yourself answering, “Yes. Please go there.”
The state of your life, in which you have been struggling to just be content, grateful, just hanging on by a thread, is suddenly threatened by ultimate happiness. Love promises to blow up your life, and secretly, that’s what we all want. To be delivered. From this. Where the tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living. Where everyone insists they know who you are, but you can’t remember anyone asking.
There are better angels hidden among us ready to remind us our reason to be here is love. That we are meant to grow together, that it is possible, and that’s it’s going to be awesome. Despite your best laid plans. Life is going to be better than you intended.
So, we open ourselves to forces and feelings far larger than ourselves, in which loving another person gives us access to comprehending the infinite, all of which is far beyond the scope of this simple country wedding, but be comforted in knowledge that in this merciful universe, your mission on Earth is simple: You only need to save the woman you love, and be saved in return. To love and be loved.
Marriage is a little like death. Weddings are basically just funerals with cake.
When someone close to us passes, suddenly there is a rupture in the fabric of life, that reminds us exactly of what life is, a miraculous accident that delicately passes as soon as it comes, and despite this heightened awareness, idiots are still going to work, laughing on their phones, birds are chirping, all adding to the cacophony of a life that simply cannot comprehend itself. There is an unmistakable vulgarity to it.
And I have always found love to be a little like that too. Why should anyone in love be asked to go to work and answer phones? Why should anyone in love be asked to get out of bed or put on pants?
Marriage is in some sense an acceptance that we have to forget that life is a miracle, if only to do the dishes for the one we love. Love is a seed from eternity that we have been gifted to slowly grow that future Eden which continues the circle of paradise from the very beginning of time to its end with our ordinary daily acts of love. And there is no ignoring that it is work, and that it is sometimes a pain in the ass.
You must go on living. After this wonderful day, you will return to back aches and boredom, sickness and hang-ups, and insecurities of every imaginable kind, but you will do so as Mrs. and Mrs. B. And faith is not so much the belief in things you cannot see, but the work you do for love as love does its work on you. Let love be the shelter and home you build together in the eye of the storm.
So we are here to make a covenant. Like the covenant Jonathan made to David, to love him forever as he loved his own soul. Like Ruth’s plea to Naomi, in which she promised:
“Don’t urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. I will never give you up. I will never let you down. Never gonna run around and desert you. Never gonna make you cry. Never gonna say goodbye. Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you.”
I’m paraphrasing.
Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. On Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.
Today we bring not only these two people together, but Heaven and Earth. For Love is not only the end of time, but its beginning, and the way there. We tend this garden, remembering those who could not be here today. All the versions of ourselves who once did not believe it was possible. All the loved ones who must watch from afar. Bring them close, and let everyone bear witness to the future paradise that awaits us all, of which this shining moment allows us but a brief window.
Who has the rings?
Carlene, please place the ring on Deidre’s left hand ring finger.
And repeat after me:
Take this ring as a symbol of my love and faith, that I will love you all the rest of my days.
Deidre, please place the ring on Carlene’s left hand ring finger.
And repeat after me:
Take this ring as a symbol of my love and faith, that I will love you for all the rest of my days. And then some.
I ask you now, Carlene and Deirdre, to come together, risking it all in that most solemn and dangerous wager, more powerful than the bonds of any nation, religion, or laws, whether common, civil, or even physical.
(They lock pinkies.)
Do you, Carlene B., take Deidre W. to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part. Promising to love and honor her all the days of your life?
(I do.)
Do you, Deidre W., take Carlene B. to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do you part. Promising to love and honor her all the days of your life?
(I do.)
By the power vested in me, by the Universal Life Church and the State of Illinois, I now pronounce you Wife and Wife.
You better kiss that bride.
(They kiss.)
Ladies and Gentlemen, and… Whoever. Please stand with us now.
I now introduce to you for the very first time…
Carlene and Deidre B.!
(A wineglass is folded into a towel which they then stomp to pieces.)
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Find The Word!
Thank you @sentfromwolves for the tag!!! My favorite ones uwu (and great word choices...)
crack - Auberon book three
"I'm not going to argue about this further. I'm sorry, Christie, I am. You are a very smart girl and I enjoyed working with you, but I cannot in good conscience continue to do this." His expression softened some. "I promise, you will be the first to know when I crack this. When things are safe." Christie bit her lip, fighting back tears. She'd never felt so rejected, so disheartened, so betrayed. She held tight to her pendant and met his eyes. "A good investigator wouldn't hide the truth like this." His expression faltered, and he sighed, his breath visible in the air. Hanging his head, he nodded. "You're right."
creak - Soulbearer
Late that night, after too many dead ends, Aulus was left to rest. His companions floated unseen around him, growing closer with the knowledge he'd soon be joining them. The door creaked open, and unsteady footsteps thumped across the floor. "Daddy says you're a wiz'rd," the toddler stage-whispered. "I wanna help you."
crunch - Auberon book two
Ashton took a step out from behind the tree, the snow crunching loudly. The movement ahead stopped, and he similarly froze. "Hadia?" the voice called. "Obhewun deidui?" Ashton stayed where he was, debating what to do. After a moment of no response, the voice came again. "Um. Hello? Help, please?"
crave
Apparently, I have never used this word??? Crazy???
click - Auberon book three
She nodded. "Can I come in? I don't want anyone to overhear." "Me either." Raven stepped aside. "Come in, quickly." Christie did as she said, and Raven shut the door behind her, locking it with a click. Using her staff as something of a cane, she made her way to the large seat behind her desk as Christie hopped into one of the chairs opposite her. "Alright," she steepled her fingers. "Tell me everything you know, dear."
Yay, I got to share some from Soulbearer for the first time, woag! Anyway.
I shall tag @thoughtofhouses, @phantomnations, @chiefwritesbook, and @scribe-scott! (And anyone else who wants in! (Feel free to tag me back!)
Your words are: truth, dead, help, staff, and crave! maybe someone else can get better use of it than me lmao.
#tag game#boberon#sogbog#ch: little detective#ch: big detective#ch: hearteyed hunter#ch: academy namesake
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@thatscarletflycatcher Yeah I did my Master thesis on MacIntyre’s After Virtue but I didn’t touch on literature mentioned in the book because I haven’t read them.
My thesis is that the natural law is only intelligible with the existence of God so I compared the meta-ethics in After Virtue to the metaphysics of God described in St. Thomas Aquinas’ Five Ways for the existence of God.
Since the First Way illustrates God as the Pure Actuality, morality helps man achieve his fullest potential since he's made in the image and likeness of God. In the second way, Aquinas illustrates God as the Being that sustains all other beings in the universe, so too does morality sustains society and people in generation to come (institutions are upheld by traditions centered on virtue), and its decay is due to not adhering to morality . In the Third Way, Aquinas illustrates that God is a necessary being, so too virtue is a necessary thing that can only be truly achieve with no regard for the benefits it might confer. The Fourth Way illustrates that God is a source of all goodness and the goodness of other things is traceable to him, and human beings are considered good and better to the extent they come closer to their purpose and goals. Finally, in the Fifth way, Aquinas shows that things on the earth are moved with an intention to achieve their purpose, and human beings have the goal of being united to God in the afterlife and this goal encompasses all other mini goals which supports this main goal.
—-
I got into this because the argument from conscience is my favorite argument for the existence of God and I discovered MacIntyre in undergrad. My professor didn’t explicitly discussed him but an excerpt on him was provided for the list of topics we had to write for the essay assigned at the end of that semester and I almost cried reading this line:
“It follows that the concept of a watch cannot be defined independently of that of a good watch nor the concept of a farmer independently of a good farmer; …” p. 58
as explained in this passage:
“Within the Aristotelian tradition to call x good (where x may be among other things a person or an animal or a policy or a state of affairs) is to say that it is the kind of x which someone would choose who wanted an x for the purpose of which x’s are characteristically wanted.” P. 59
can you tell me what your thesis is about if you're willing to share??
Hi!!! Yes, of course! I need to go over and over the description of this thing in order to turn in a precise and compelling project for the board (attempt #3 at finishing this cursed degree, here we go! *sobs*).
My area of interest has always been Medieval Philosophy, Metaphysics, Ethics, Virtue Ethics and Aristotelian Ethics-Politics. My very first attempt was writing something on Metaphysics (transcendentals) then Ethics Metaphysics (the role of intellectual intuition in moral reasoning in Aristotelian Ethics, Book VI of the Nicomachean Ethics)... Neither worked mainly because a problem when talking metaphysics is... well, there's few words to use and little to say and I have always been a very succinct academic writer (yeah, I know, but it is true).
When I reached acceptance about that XD I moved on to trying something about Aristotelian Ethics-politics. Alasdair MacIntyre is a key author in that area, and he's a favorite of mine because in agreement or disagreement he's thought provoking, he has a sense of humor, and he's a hater of the fun kind. I know it isn't proper to call or pick academic authors because they are fun, but hey, he is. He is a curmudgeonly old man (present tense: he's 95), who kind of manages to disagree with everyone because he hates being put in boxes, but he's also always been very willing and open to listen to other voices and change his opinions on things.
For example, the refinement and reformulation of many ideas between his After Virtue (1981) and his Dependent Rational Animals (1999) came (declaredly) through a reading of certain feminist theory, which brought to the foreground to him how little academic Ethics had focused until that point on disability and caretaking.
He's also always been a versatile author in the sense of breaching the barriers between disciplines for the purposes of philosophical inquiry -After Virtue has a great deal to say about Sociology, and Dependent Rational Animals talks a lot about dolphins XD.
I decided I wanted to write something about this guy, but I got stuck because if you are writing on an author specifically, alone, how do you manage to write something that isn't like, textbook regurgitation? Theoretically I know it is possible, but it was very paralyzing to me all the same.
Enter Elizabeth Gaskell with a steel chair.
I love Gaskell dearly for many different reasons. I love the way in which she writes nuanced, believable, textured characters. I love the treatment of grief in her work, I love the compassion she has for her characters, I love how she makes interesting, central, and natural relationships between parents and children. I love that she's versatile too, and that she saw writing as a vocation, and how she manages to talk about so many different things in a novel without making it come across as didactic or preachy. But one very special thing that has called my attention is her specific interest in communities, and community building through friendship.
Very often her "proposals" of "solutions" to social problems, specifically in her industrial novels, have been dismissed as the utopian sugary pap of learning to share and be nice of someone completely out of touch with reality, but I think those readings are fundamentally missing the framework that makes her ideas make sense and be solid.
As an aside, I feel like that ungenerous reading is kinda rich when Hard Times and its "imagination to power!" concept or Shirley and its marriage solution keep getting praise to this day. You know. It comes across as a bit double standard-y, if you ask me.
But back to topic, guess who did consider friendship, understood as the ties that unite virtuous people in the pursuit of the good for themselves and their fellow men, the very foundation of society, and mankind as essentially social, and therefore for ethics and politics to be a continuum? That's right, my boy Aristotle!
And to that, between other things, when talking about the Aristotelian tradition of Ethics Politics, MacIntyre adds teleological narrative as the element that frames and anchors virtue ethics in this scheme. What is more, he dedicates A CHUNK of chapter 16 of After Virtue to Jane Austen, and why he thinks she's "the last key representative" of this tradition (which has sprung a non negligible amount of scholarship on Austen and virtue ethics).
And I'm persuaded that Gaskell is a significant successor to Austen in this way too, and that the certain sympathy people often perceive between them comes from this aspect (because, in all honestly, it's clearly not about tone or style).
So that's the aim/core of my thesis: to present/analyze/contextualize Gaskell's work within the framework of the Aristotelian Ethics-Politics tradition as understood by MacIntyre.
Of course because I am, in Nelly Dean's description of Edgar Linton, a venturesome fool, this is clearly very ambitious, and I am making it worse for myself by doing things like harvesting circa 350 titles for a thesis that won't require more than 50 and that cannot be more than 80 pages long. The clown shoes can be heard from the other side of the world no this has nothing to do with the fact that I don't think I'll ever get a masters or a PhD where I might be able to develop this concept beyond a very summary overview of N&S and maybe Cranford and My Lady Ludlow if I'm lucky.
And that's how I should have sent something to my advisor three weeks ago (I haven't yet) and how I'm half agony half hope about the whole thing, because I'm scared and anxious and full on rowing through Nutella executive function wise. Maybe I should get a rubber duck.
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The Holy Trinity of “Very Evil and Definitely Not Straight” Luca Marinelli Characters
Fabio Cannizzaro | Mickey Miranda | Primo Nizzuto
#luca marinelli#the old guard cast#togcast fan art#they call me jeeg#a dangerous fortune#trust fx#fabio cannizzaro#mickey miranda#primo nizzuto#my art#my post#i cannot in good conscience tag anybody in this its the most self indulgent thing ive ever drawn#i finished trust fx and felt the overwhelming urge to draw primo.....#then i realized that ive never drawn my favorite evil boy mickey before so i drew him too#.....then realized how similar they both were to fabio in they call me jeeg so i drew HIM#and then this happened#please dont look at me i just love them okay#and yes i gave primo the coke fingernail and i hated every second of drawing it#i feel like primo looks nothing like primo though its the damn MUSTACHE#i cant for the life of me draw facial hair#anyways TAKE THIS *runs*#honorable mention goes to ettore in let yourself go#i havent watched it but he has a knife tattoo and he looks evil so#also happy halloween yall sjdfks this isnt even really halloween themed but whatever
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On Kaworu, Shinji and the end of all cycles (interpreting Kaworu’s instrumentality sequence)
One of my favorite things among all that Shin Eva gave us is closure for Kaworu. And what closure it was!! Certainly a lot to take in, within an incredibly eventful portion of the movie too, but we’ve never been presented with a greater, clearer understanding of him as we have thanks to his instrumentality sequence.
So, glad and impressed by this piece of writing and presentation as I’ve been this whole time, I’m gonna go through the sequence’s most prominent bits and review what it all means for Kaworu’s character (and the relationship to Shinji that’s so, so primordial to him). Please note that I’ll try to follow the general order, but might need to jump a bit between parts of the sequence for clarity.
(Post under cut due to length and many images.)
But first, context, because why we see that sequence is very important to its overall significance.
‘Cause while this is instrumentality, the instrumentality Gendo relinquished his role in and Shinji will once again be the center of, it’s not the same as the previous instances. This Another Impact runs much deeper and this instrumentality includes the additional knowledge that this has been done many times and has reset the world each of them, in neverending loops, and also the power over all of that as well, the universe with its looping included.
So Shinji isn’t just meeting Kaworu inside and accessing his conscience, that’s not all the sequence is for. He, now knowing what’s been going on through the Evangelion saga, has a glance into his true existence as every Kaworu and, with that perspective in mind, is in the process of making a permanent change for him and for everybody else. He’s here not just to see and to understand, but also to fix things. To do something better.
We’ll come back to the decision he makes later.
For now, let’s go over everything Shinji comes to understand about Kaworu; everything we get to learn too.
Aside from acknowledging the loops, the very first point Kaworu himself opens up on is that he’s just like Shinji. And it’s a double comparison, because:
Indeed, there’s a major factor these characters have in common that makes them a similar type of person, which is being highlighted about Kaworu now, and that’s loneliness. Isolation. Longing.
The comparison between Shinji and his father, both being terrible at connecting with others and way too good at shutting themselves off, has been made in the past and remarked upon in this same movie, and now Kaworu’s similarity comes into play too. But there’s a very important reason Shinji mentions his father rather than leaving it at “we’re the same, you and I”.
It comes down to what they do with their loneliness. Other characters have abundantly pointed out that Shinji both can’t live without others, and can’t live with them; he has huge issues approaching other people on a significant level. It’s the constant push-and-pull in his psyche. He wants to be with people but is terrified of them. Nonetheless, he continues to wish for that closeness and clumsily attempts it where he can. It’s that need that he maintains, that frailty and exposed humanity, that Kaworu once called Shinji’s glass heart and fell for.
Gendo, on the other hand, didn’t stay frail. Yui was the only person he drew close to and without her, he shut himself off more strongly than ever and undertook the sole mission of going back to her at the cost of anything. He’s also someone who cannot live on his own, but instead of accepting his weakness (to paraphrase what Shinji told him in their conversation), instead of embracing some vulnerability and attempting to live on, he could only obsess over the one person he loved as his only anchor and savior and goal.
And that, well, that seems to be closer to what Kaworu’s been doing with his own loneliness. Of course, it’s not that he’s the same as Gendo, their personalities are... as different as can be. But what they’re doing with their emotions follows a similar vein. After all, it’s true that Kaworu is also obsessively pouring it all onto his own beloved person, seeing only Shinji and wanting nothing but to make Shinji happy, to an unbalanced extent.
In his case, given his nature and personality, what that led him to do is to completely disregard himself, dedicating his all to ensuring Shinji’s happiness and even sacrificing his life way too easily if that happened to be part of the process. It led him to piloting an Eva (a consistent source of unhappiness for all that do), and to seek to fix and do everything for Shinji if he could. His intentions are in no way bad, his feelings are benign, but his methods and self-destructive tendencies definitely went overboard.
And Kaworu accepts the comparison that’s being made there. It seems he recognizes the truth in it, because what he replies with, instead of any type of correction or denial or further explanation of that point, is simply praise for Shinji’s insight.
… though he does also add a pinch of nostalgia for the Shinji he’s gotten to protect and care for, mixed with the appreciation for the Shinji who’s stood up and is taking action now.
Still, the next section shows us that the error in his ways is actually something that had been addressed before with him, in this same timeline.
So it happens that Kaji has met Kaworu, naturally at a point before his death (so, most likely in the 1 year gap between Near 3rd Impact and the actual 3rd Impact, that elusive little period we’ve only gotten quick glances at), and ended up having some type of conversation with him about this. The perspective he offers is very interesting, and it seems to be one Kaworu accepts and appreciates as well.
Now, the relationship between love, selflessness and selfishness is a tricky thing to grasp, but Kaji (a character with very relevant personal experience on loving, giving, living and sacrificing, one of the few people in Evangelion with a balanced sense for interpersonal relationships) lays things down with great simplicity: Kaworu sought happiness through making Shinji happy, just Shinji, aiming to get his own as an additional result.
And, again, this isn’t a bad thing. Normally, this is just part of what love entails. Seeing the people we love happy makes us happy too. Making them happy makes us happy too. There is a degree of selfishness in wanting to be with who we love and wanting to be the one to make them happy, because it’s pleasing for us. But, well, it becomes an issue when we do nothing for ourselves and only focus on that person, wasting ourselves away in the pursuit of giving them what they need, assuming our own needs will be more or less met in the process. That’s where Kaworu has been out of balance.
As he said before, he misunderstood Shinji’s happiness, as well as his own. Utilizing himself and all means at his disposal to attain Shinji’s happiness (him coming down from the moon in 2.0 and claiming that this time he’ll make it comes to mind), he’s neglected the value of his life and actually given it up infinite times, by both omission and direct sacrifice. He has placed the different goals he achieved with his sacrifices as the greatest priority in every occasion, above the grief Shinji would feel upon losing him and above the happiness he could’ve also enjoyed if he stayed beside him. All he focused on was making things turn out the correct way.
This, of course, has a lot to do with his nature as Adam too, how life and death aren’t of very different value for him and how he knows too well that if he dies, it doesn’t mean the end for him at all. He’ll be back, he’ll meet Shinji again and he’ll have more chances. We’ve even been given the extra bit of new data that he’s listed his name and Shinji’s in the Book of Life together, likely a type of prophetic apocrypha, like the Dead Sea Scrolls, that ensures he gets the chances. So he knows that unless the very existence of Adam decays - something VERY unlikely in this universe - he’ll just continue in the loops, reborn again and again, trying again and again to make the cycles end the right way.
But this is where that will end. And I find it particularly striking that this part, the shots of Kaworu contemplating the countless attempts he’s made and the countless attempts to be made yet, are cut short by/switch over to this:
Shinji’s decision is to erase the Evangelions from the world and all that their existence entails. As a result, Kaworu will also be free of the role he’s been playing.
Instead, Shinji gives him his outstretched hand: an offer to bond. Now he knows what Kaworu’s been through, now he comprehends him deeply and will no longer be protected and cared for at the cost of Kaworu’s life and whole self, but beyond freeing him of his burden, he hopes to truly and properly connect.
While it did take me super off-guard in the moment and emotionally shook me, it really is no surprise that Kaworu reacts the way he does to this.
Kaji too, aside from having made good points about Kaworu’s behavior, supports the idea that it’s time for him to be done with his usual duties, both as the 1st and 13th angel and as Kaworu.
The suggestion he makes at the end of this section, of having Kaworu work the earth with his family, has a large significance that both NGE and 2.0 have delivered and Rebuild has put more emphasis on. Working the earth is learning things about yourself through your relation to the world, finding something enjoyable to do and getting acquainted with the smell and feel of the earth itself (note that in Rebuild, greenery is a relevant symbol of life, reconstruction and hope); in other words, his suggestion equates telling Kaworu to live a bit more life, work a bit on himself and be part of the world.
Kaworu’s reaction to both statements is positive. To letting Shinji handle things, he stays quiet and is simply shown gazing into the distance, though smiling. To letting go of his role until now and try some living, he expresses it sounds well.
After all, it has ended. Kaworu has seen it for himself too. Shinji has achieved more than he or anyone expected in this instrumentality, the Evas will be no more, the world will be rewritten (though not started) and everyone will be able to live on in it unburdened.
To be clear on a misconception that I’ve seen here and there, there’s no goodbye from Kaworu to Shinji nor vice versa in this process, as far as we can see. Kaworu is gaining a healthier view on love, dedication and individuality, without anything suggesting an end to his feelings. As for Shinji, all he’s ending in these sequences is the looping storyline of Evangelion, the cycle of the impacts and instrumentalization and rebuilt worlds, as well as Kaworu’s role of eternal toil and sacrifice and failure in it. Their bond isn’t just untouched, but restructured by Shinji’s gesture of a new and truer approach.
After all, in the new world he’s building, the instrumentalization of souls has been rejected and everyone will once again have the chance to live as individuals, striving to connect and complement each other. However difficult and complex, however much pain and vulnerability it can entail, it’s the human way of existence that Shinji always choses.
And that’s just right. That’s perfect.
Through this sequence we’ve learned a lot about Kaworu, just like Shinji has come to understand him very well and just like Kaworu has come to see himself much more clearly. And we know now, moving forward, that Kaworu has gained the will to work on himself and live. We’ve seen that Shinji matures greatly too, and that they intend to bond in a better and truer way. The romantic history between them (established most explicitly in NGE but clearly maintained in Rebuild) makes the new balance between them particularly poignant to me, for the weight and depth of emotion it adds.
Of course, we don’t know exactly what’s going to happen in that new world that we only get a quick glance at in the end, but I’ve personally felt very satisfied with what has been told; the rest will grow from that base and can be explored externally. There are two kinds of “leaving things for interpretation/for the audience to have fun with”, one where everything is vague and ambiguous and nothing concrete is given, and another where the base and general flow of things is established and it’s the details that are left up to us. The end of Evangelion as a whole is the second type.
In all seriousness, as a huge fan of Kaworu I’m extremely happy with the content on his character, the development he got and the treatment he was given. Same goes for Shinji, of course, but as the protagonist it was more expected, while in Kaworu’s case that degree of closure and good treatment was a pleasant surprise. As a huge huge fan of kawoshin as ship too, I’m just as happy. I believe their relationship can be so much richer with this new dimension, this development where Shinji is much more aware and capable of taking more care of Kaworu in return. The new material gives me a lot that I’ll love to explore and see explored in fandom.
But that’s enough of my personal rambling. I hope this slowed-down look into Kaworu’s instrumentality has been helpful and/or interesting! Getting the excitement, thoughts and praise about it out of my system sure has been.
Feel free to send an ask with any comments or questions!
#nagisa kaworu#ikari shinji#kawoshin#shinkawo#shin eva spoilers#evangelion rebuild#3.0+1.0#shin evangelion#meta posts#thoughts and talk and so#I FINALLY GOT IT OUT OF MY SYSTEMMMM
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“Um… wait I remember! You were saying that the Duke of Karlington used his dessert spoon instead of his soup spoon?”
Bertrand stammered, “W-what sort of oddly specific blather is that?! And there is no way that a Duke would confuse a soup spoon with a dessert spoon! They aren't even beside one another on the place setting for goodness sake!!”
'oddly specific blather! Spot on Bertrand! 👌
Bertrand sighed again and Max could tell he was pinching the bridge of his nose the way their father always did when he was annoyed with him. “Maxwell, don't be ridiculous! I sent you to an all boys school because you are of a.. certain age, and being around females is distracting! Soon you’ll be driving and taking women out on dates. I don’t want your budding hormones getting in the way of your education.”
Maxwell shook his head, “I’m gay, you idiot!”
Bertrand remained silent for a moment and scoffed, “Stop being foolish. This is not amusing.”
“Wow, thanks a lot for your support. I just came out to my brother and he calls me a fool. Good talk, Bertrand. Bye.”
Yeesh! Bert does not know his brother AT ALL!
Max felt tears prick the corner of his eyes. He wasn’t sure why he assumed Bertrand would be proud of him. It’s not like Bertrand was ever proud of Max, but it still stung just the same. “Oh you didn’t know?! That’s just something that us gays do! Ya, once you come out, you have to audition for a school play. Bonus points if you get to kiss a guy on stage!”
Poor guy... Not easy dealing with Bert on the best of days, not to mention a serious conversation like this... Hope Bert comes to the play to apologise and gets his socks blown off by Max's amazing performance!
Liam chuckled, “Nothing’s wrong! Sorry if I worried you! I just wanted to tell you something.”
“Whew! Not gonna lie, I thought someone had died!!” Maxwell felt like he could finally breathe again. “So what’s up?” Maxwell felt a tap on his shoulder and when he spun around, his jaw dropped. “OMG! What are you doing here!?”
AWWWW!
The next statement he heard made him sick to his stomach. “So that’s why he got the lead role.”
“We’ll see what the parents think about this blatant favoritism the faculty is showing Beaumont. I know mine won’t be happy. They’ve donated lots of money to this school and how are they being repaid?”
OMG he's a total Draco Malfoy... 😒
Maxwell had reached his boiling point by then. He stood up and said, “Fine! If you want to audition, talk to Mr. Eldore, but there is no way you’ll get the part. You can't even remember to zip up your fly, much less memorize an entire script!”
HA! Go Max!
“I mean.. You’re just this amazing, fearless person. You’re so optimistic and funny and.. I really admire you.”
Max turned to Liam, who was still staring ahead. His cheeks held a faint blush that made Maxwell's stomach flutter. “Wow. That’s the nicest thing anyone has probably ever said to me.”
Liam looked at him with a tender expression he had never seen before. “Well I mean it. Every word.”
Liam leaned in until his forehead was touching Max’s and he tenderly stroked his jaw. “Max.. I.. I-”
A boom from the entrance to the auditorium caused them to split apart quickly. The doors had been thrown open and Mr. Eldore strode in wearing a grin. “My word, it’s true! Your Highness, I am thrilled to have you in our humble theater!”
ARGH! BAD TIMING MR ELDORE!
They looked at each other skeptically. Sam, the most senior guard, responded. “Sir, no disrespect, but you are a seventeen year old boy. Your father has charged me with looking after your wellbeing. I cannot in good conscience let you go into Lord Beaumont’s bedroom without supervision.”
😒
Geez, they are overprotective!
“Hey.. Why did the student eat his homework?”
Liam quirked an eyebrow and smiled. “Why?”
“Because the teacher told him it was a piece of cake!
Maxwell tapped the microphone and smiled. “Good evening, good evening. Well I’m happy to be here in Lythikos - the land of ice and snow. The only duchy in Cordonia where the temperature outside matches the temperature inside Olivia’s heart.”
So it’s Olivia’s sixteenth birthday. Tell me, Liv, what's that in people years?”
A loud guffaw from the crowd caught his attention and he saw Drake holding a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking as he attempted not to laugh.
Hahahaha! Of course Drake is going to be loving it! 🤣🤣🤣 Olivia is probably planning his murder too
Suddenly he felt the soft, gentle warmth of Liam’s hand slide into his own. He opened his eyes abruptly and looked at his best friend. It was all he could do not to squeal with joy. The two shared a smile and lay together for the next half hour, hand in hand, enjoying the music and company, until Liam had to return home.
Maxwell's Jolly Holiday Pt. 2
Book - The Royal Romance AU
Pairings -Liam x Maxwell
Synopsis- This story gives a glimpse into Maxwell’s high school days at an all boys school where he joins the drama club and performs in his first play. This is set as a prequel to my fic, Unintentional, but can definitely be read as a standalone fic too! This ‘one shot’ has taken on a life of its own and will probably end up being 3 parts.
Warnings- swearing, some crude language, a few homophobic comments from bullies
Word count- 4,150
Catch up here.
Part 2 - Like Somethin’ is Brewin’, About to Begin
The following week was exhausting and exciting as Maxwell began rehearsal and studying his lines. He had made several new friends and actually had someone to sit with at lunch time. But all too soon it was time for his usual Sunday afternoon phone call/scolding from Bertrand. He had learned how to tune Bertrand out and just respond based on the tone of voice he was currently using. He lay on his bed, reading over his lines while Bertrand was using his ‘disappointed voice’. Max had completely checked out, robotically responding with “you’re right” and “I’ll try to work on that.”
After a while, Bertrand cleared his throat, “are you even listening to me?!”
“Hmm?” Max snapped back to attention, “I mean, yes, of course.”
“What was I saying?”
Max thought for a minute and stretched out on the bed, “you were talking about.. my grades?”
“Wrong.”
“Myyyyy stunning good looks?”
“No.”
“Um… wait I remember! You were saying that the Duke of Karlington used his dessert spoon instead of his soup spoon?”
Bertrand stammered, “W-what sort of oddly specific blather is that?! And there is no way that a Duke would confuse a soup spoon with a dessert spoon! They aren't even beside one another on the place setting for goodness sake!!”
Max couldn’t help but chuckle, “Sorry, it just seemed like something you’d say.”
“Get serious. I didn’t send you to the most elite finishing school in Europe so you could fool around. I sent you so that you could grow up and learn to make something of yourself.”
“Ya right..” Max said under his breath.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You sent me because you wanted to get rid of me.”
Bertrand heaved a long sigh, “not this again.���
“Everybody knows it! Why else would you send me to an all boys boarding school hours away from home? I was going to a perfectly good school in Ramsford and had decent grades and a ton of friends!”
Bertrand raised his voice, “To get you a proper education with no distractions!”
Maxwell sat up on the bed, gripping the phone tighter. “Distractions? What, like my friends?! You thought I’d fit in better with the snobs at this place?!”
Bertrand sighed again and Max could tell he was pinching the bridge of his nose the way their father always did when he was annoyed with him. “Maxwell, don't be ridiculous! I sent you to an all boys school because you are of a.. certain age, and being around females is distracting! Soon you’ll be driving and taking women out on dates. I don’t want your budding hormones getting in the way of your education.”
Maxwell burst into laughter, “well you’re a few years too late on that one Bert.”
“What?! What do you mean?”
“Maybe you should've had this conversation with me when I was like.. twelve. I’m sixteen now, bro. The hormones have been running rampant for a while!” Max wiped a tear away as he continued to laugh, “And not to burst your bubble, but sending me to an all boys school was about the worst thing you could have done if you didn’t want me distracted!”
Bertrand was flabbergasted on the other line, “What are you saying? I don’t understand.”
“Are you really serious right now?”
“Maxwell, you know I hate when you do this. Just spit it out!”
Maxwell shook his head, “I’m gay, you idiot!”
Bertrand remained silent for a moment and scoffed, “Stop being foolish. This is not amusing.”
“Wow, thanks a lot for your support. I just came out to my brother and he calls me a fool. Good talk, Bertrand. Bye.”
“Wait! Wait!” Bertrand interrupted. “Why are you saying this? Are you trying to upset me?”
“I’m trying to point out what I thought had been painfully obvious for the past few years. I. Am. Gay.”
Bertrand once again went silent on the other line. So long so, that Maxwell thought he hung up. “Are you being serious, Maxwell? How can you be sure?”
Max ran a hand down his face and lay back on his pillows, “I don’t know how to tell you this any more clearly. I like boys. I am attracted to boys. I am not attracted to girls. Seriously, how did you not know this?”
“Well.. you’re still young. Maybe you just haven’t met the right girl yet. Maybe you’re just confused.”
“Don’t. Just.. no. Don’t do that.” The brothers remained silent for a long time until Max spoke up again. “I get it if you need some time to process or whatever, but I have to go.”
“Right. Uh, I’ll let you get back to studying,” Bertrand said quietly.
Feeling like he had nothing to lose at this point Max said, “Oh I’m not studying. I’m reading my lines. I auditioned for the school play, and I actually got one of the lead roles.”
“The school play? How will you have time to do your actual studies if you’re playing around on stage?!”
Max felt tears prick the corner of his eyes. He wasn’t sure why he assumed Bertrand would be proud of him. It’s not like Bertrand was ever proud of Max, but it still stung just the same. “Oh you didn’t know?! That’s just something that us gays do! Ya, once you come out, you have to audition for a school play. Bonus points if you get to kiss a guy on stage!”
“Maxwell..” Bertrand sighed.
Tears streamed down his cheeks, and even though he wanted to cry, he forced his words out. “No! I’m done talking to you! I don’t know why I ever assumed that you would approve of anything I do! Even when you’re not here to scold me on a daily basis, you still make me feel like shit!”
Maxwell hung up the phone and tossed it across the room. Putting his pillow over his face, he cried until he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
____________________________________________
Over the next few weeks, Max ignored any and all phone calls and texts from Bertrand, instead focusing completely on the play. He was amazed at how naturally it all came to him. He always knew he was good at dancing, but acting was like a hidden gem deep inside of him that had been unearthed. He loved it.
While in the lunchroom one day, Max, Eddie, and the other theater kids were talking animatedly about the upcoming play.
“So a couple of the chicks from the girls' school are coming to the next rehearsal," Eddie said, smacking on a carrot stick. “It’ll be like the real deal having everyone together on stage.”
“Oh that's great!” Max smiled. “I hope they’re nice.”
Just then, his phone vibrated repeatedly. He snuck it out of the pocket of his uniform pants and checked it under the table. Liam. It wasn’t like him to call in the middle of a school day. Hopefully nothing was wrong. Max leaned forward to answer the call as discreetly as possible.
“Liam?”
“Hey Max!”
“What’s going on? Did something happen?!”
Liam chuckled, “Nothing’s wrong! Sorry if I worried you! I just wanted to tell you something.”
“Whew! Not gonna lie, I thought someone had died!!” Maxwell felt like he could finally breathe again. “So what’s up?” Maxwell felt a tap on his shoulder and when he spun around, his jaw dropped. “OMG! What are you doing here!?”
“Surprise!” Liam was standing before him with two palace guards on either side, scanning the room.
Maxwell jumped up and threw his arms around his best friend, holding him tightly. “It’s so good to see you!”
By that time, everyone in the cafeteria was turned to see Maxwell Beaumont hugging the Prince of their nation. Liam and Maxwell, however, only seemed to notice each other. Max grinned, looking him up and down. Liam seemed like he had gotten taller since the last time he saw him a few months ago, and his hair was longer and a little shaggier. He looked good. Really good. Max felt the butterflies return to his stomach in full force.
Liam grinned, “So I may have pulled some strings and gotten you relieved from your classes for the rest of the day.”
“Score!” Max beamed and pulled Liam down next to him at their table. He introduced Liam to his theater friends who were flabbergasted that the prince was actually talking to them. Eddie asked, “Why didn’t you tell us you’re friends with Prince Liam?”
Max shrugged, “It never came up!”
Eddie laughed, “Well damn.. I guess that’s true. You friends with any other nobles? The Queen of England perhaps?”
Max thought for a moment. “Well my brother is the Duke of Ramsford and I’m kind of acquainted with the Duchess of Lythikos, although she may or may not hate me-”
“Hold it, hold it..” Eddie froze. “Your brother is a Duke? So you’re noble too?!”
Max shrugged and the rest of the theater group gawked at him. Suddenly everyone around them was whispering and lobbing questions at the younger Beaumont. “Why didn’t you tell us? Are you rich? Are you gonna be a Duke one day? How big is your duchy? Do you have an arranged marriage?”
“Whoa guys, chill!” Max held up his hands attempting to calm everyone down.
The next statement he heard made him sick to his stomach. “So that’s why he got the lead role.”
Maxwell turned around to see Jason, one of the boys who had teased him before his audition weeks ago. His mouth fell open, but he couldn’t make a sound.
Eddie stood up and rolled his eyes. “Jason, fuck off.”
Jason got closer and stared down at Eddie who was about a foot shorter than him. “You wanna make me, nerd?”
Liam jumped up and held his hands in front of him, “Ok everyone, let's calm down.” His guards were mere inches away, ready to intervene if needed. “If there’s an issue here why don’t we try to solve it calmly?”
Jason scoffed, “Your Highness, I was simply pointing out that Beaumont clearly only got the lead role because he’s a Lord and best friends with you.” He rolled his eyes, “Do you know how many of us were there to audition? It’s not fair that we didn’t get an equal chance just because we're not noble.”
Eddie scowled at him, “You weren’t there to audition! You just wanted to hook up with the lead actress! And no one even knew Max was a noble then!”
“I'm sure the teachers did!” Jason said, “I think we should all get to audition again.”
“You don’t give a shit about this play!” Eddie raised his voice, “Stop being an asshole, just to be an asshole!”
“We’ll see what the parents think about this blatant favoritism the faculty is showing Beaumont. I know mine won’t be happy. They’ve donated lots of money to this school and how are they being repaid?”
Maxwell had reached his boiling point by then. He stood up and said, “Fine! If you want to audition, talk to Mr. Eldore, but there is no way you’ll get the part. You can't even remember to zip up your fly, much less memorize an entire script!”
Jason looked down at his open pants zipper and the theater group burst into laughter. He quickly zipped his pants and stormed away, still fuming.
“That was fucking hilarious, man!” Eddie clapped Maxwell on the back.
Maxwell felt a swell of pride. He wasn’t sure if that was the last he was going to hear about the whole Jason incident, but he shut him up and it felt great.
“Now that that’s been taken care of..” Liam grinned ear to ear. “..I would love it if Max could show me around. I’ve never even been to school before. All I have are private tutors.”
“Yes!” Maxwell took Liam’s hand and enthusiastically started leading him away.
Liam chuckled and waved behind him to the theater group, “It was nice meeting all of you!”
______________________________________________________________
Maxwell led Liam through the halls of his school, trying to ignore the whispers and stares of the other students who gawked at the Prince. He showed him his fencing club practice area, the stables where his horse resided, and a few of his classrooms. But Maxwell was most excited about showing Liam the theater. He pushed open the double doors and led him inside with a grin. “This is where the play is gonna be. We practice here every Monday, Wednesday, and Saturday.”
Liam looked around the grand auditorium in wonder. “Too bad you aren’t practicing today. I’d love to see you up on stage.”
Max chuckled and actually felt himself blushing. “Really?”
“Duh!” Liam laughed and sat down in a front row seat. “Hey, why don’t you give me a little preview?”
“Now?!” Maxwell stepped back. “But there’s no music or any other people on stage or anything!”
“I'll go up with you!” Liam raced up the stairs and onto the stage. “Wow, it’s so big up here.. And open! I’d be terrified to be up here reciting lines in front of all those people.”
Maxwell climbed the steps and stood beside him, looking out at the hundreds of empty seats. “Well thanks for putting a new fear in my head!”
Liam grimaced, “Sorry.”
Maxwell burst out laughing and nudged his friend. “I’m joking. I don’t know why, but I actually love it. Weird, huh?”
They stood beside each other, taking in the beauty of the theater and Liam smiled, looking out ahead. “No. It’s not weird. Not for someone like you.”
Max was taken aback. Someone like him? “What do you mean?”
“I mean.. You’re just this amazing, fearless person. You’re so optimistic and funny and.. I really admire you.”
Max turned to Liam, who was still staring ahead. His cheeks held a faint blush that made Maxwell's stomach flutter. “Wow. That’s the nicest thing anyone has probably ever said to me.”
Liam looked at him with a tender expression he had never seen before. “Well I mean it. Every word.”
Maxwell stepped closer. It was as if each of them were connected by a magnetic pull and fighting the attraction was futile. Liam’s chest was nearly touching his by now and Max swallowed hard. He felt his breath start to come quickly but the warm touch of Liam’s hand on his cheek stopped his heart completely. Liam leaned in until his forehead was touching Max’s and he tenderly stroked his jaw. “Max.. I.. I-”
A boom from the entrance to the auditorium caused them to split apart quickly. The doors had been thrown open and Mr. Eldore strode in wearing a grin. “My word, it’s true! Your Highness, I am thrilled to have you in our humble theater!”
Liam’s posture immediately changed back to the one Max had seen thousands of times before. He was in prince mode. “The pleasure is all mine. This theater is beautiful, and the architecture is just stunning..”
While Liam and Mr. Eldore were talking, Maxwell’s mind was racing a mile a minute. Liam had almost kissed him. Liam had almost kissed him. Liam had almost kissed him! That’s what was about to happen, right? He fought the urge to lean over and ask one of Liam’s guards his opinion on the matter. No, that would be too weird. It was already weird enough that they had been right there and seen the whole thing. His palms were sweaty and he attempted to calm his heart rate before any attention was brought to him.
Liam turned to Max with a grin, “I’m actually here visiting my dear friend, Maxwell Beaumont.”
Mr. Eldore looked delighted. “Your friend?! Well, I hope that means you will be attending the play in a couple months! We would be honored to have you in our theater. Of course the entire royal family is invited.”
Liam winked at Maxwell, “It’ll just be me and maybe another one of our mutual friends, but we’ll definitely be there opening night.”
“Well that is fantastic!” Mr. Eldore bowed. “Maxwell, you just let me know all the details and I will personally see to it that everything is perfect.”
“Thank you.” Liam smiled cordially as Mr. Eldore left the building and they were once again left alone. Well.. alone plus two guards.
Max shuffled his feet and smiled awkwardly at his friend. “I think I’ve shown you everything now.”
Liam put his hands in his pockets, grinning. “Well you haven’t shown me your bedroom.”
“M-my bedroom?!” Maxwell’s voice cracked like a prepubescent boy. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Right. Ya.. of course. My bedroom!”
“Unless you don’t want to.”
“No! No, I definitely want to take you to my bedroom!” Max felt his face grow hot. “No! I mean.. I mean I can definitely show it to you.. my room, I mean!”
The two of them chuckled awkwardly and Max tried to think of a good lie to cover for his dorkiness. “It’s just a little messy is all. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Nah. Your room is always messy, Beaumont! Has that ever stopped me before?” Liam teased and the boys laughed sincerely, thankful that some of the tension had cleared.
Once they reached Maxwell's door, Liam turned to his guards. “Can you just stay outside?”
They looked at each other skeptically. Sam, the most senior guard, responded. “Sir, no disrespect, but you are a seventeen year old boy. Your father has charged me with looking after your wellbeing. I cannot in good conscience let you go into Lord Beaumont’s bedroom without supervision.”
Liam flushed, “Oh my God, what do you think is going to happen in there?!”
The guards glanced at each other and Sam cleared his throat. “I.. uh..”
“Just do a sweep and let me have some time alone to catch up with my friend.” Liam looked at Sam pleadingly. “Please?”
After a moment considering, Sam nodded. Once the room had been cleared and the guards left, the boys sat on the bed together. The insinuation from the guards had left them feeling a little uncomfortable. Maxwell tried to break the tension. “Hey.. Why did the student eat his homework?”
Liam quirked an eyebrow and smiled. “Why?”
“Because the teacher told him it was a piece of cake!”
Liam laughed loudly, “That is so bad! And I love it!” Maxwell joined in and soon they were laughing uncontrollably, laying on Maxwell’s bed. Liam rolled over to face him. “You always make me laugh. Remember when you tried to do a roast at Olivia’s sweet sixteen?”
Maxwell groaned and covered his face, “First of all it was only 2 years ago, so of course I remember. And second of all, it was the day I was nearly murdered. One doesn’t usually forget that day.”
Liam chuckled, “Everyone was going up to the mic and wishing her happy birthday, then along comes Max with his note cards and just totally demolishes her!”
“Shut up!” Maxwell shoved Liam playfully. “I thought she’d like it!”
“You thought she’d like you asking how she manages to create a hairstyle that covers her horns?”
Maxwell laughed, “Drake liked it!”
2 years ago:
Liam had just taken his turn at the mic in the ballroom of Lythikos, cordially wishing Olivia a happy birthday. Max was seated across from the small stage, not so patiently waiting for his turn. He shuffled the note cards in his hand with a grin. This was going to be great. Olivia was surely tired of all the generic birthday wishes, but HE was going to give her something to remember.
He sauntered on stage and winked at Bertrand, who for some reason looked nervous by the gesture. Little did Bertrand know that Max was about to have everyone in this room rolling with laughter.
Maxwell tapped the microphone and smiled. “Good evening, good evening. Well I’m happy to be here in Lythikos - the land of ice and snow. The only duchy in Cordonia where the temperature outside matches the temperature inside Olivia’s heart.”
Max waited, but was only met by a crowd of shocked faces. Ok, maybe that joke wasn’t the best, but he had more. He cleared his throat and flipped to the next card. “So it’s Olivia’s sixteenth birthday. Tell me, Liv, what's that in people years?”
A loud guffaw from the crowd caught his attention and he saw Drake holding a hand over his mouth, shoulders shaking as he attempted not to laugh. Liam was seated beside Drake, staring at Max wide eyed.
Hey, maybe this was good stuff after all. Drake never laughed but he was loving it! Feeling encouraged, Max flipped to the next card. “So Olivia I love your new hairstyle!” He turned to face her and grinned, “how did you manage to hide the horns?”
Once again the room was met by silence other than the boisterous laughter coming solely from Drake Walker. Surely everyone would get the jokes soon and then the whole room would be full of joy. He glanced over at Olivia and her face was as red as a tomato. Must be from holding in her laughter. He flipped to the next card.
“Liv, there’s a saying that always reminds me of you: ‘Two wrongs don’t make a right.’ Take your parents for example.”
Drake continued to laugh and Bertrand whispered loudly, “Maxwell Percival Beaumont, get down here right now!”
Max leaned away from the mic to speak to his brother, “Don’t worry, the jokes are about to get better!” Max flipped to the next card and cleared his throat, “Speaking of parents.. Olivia’s parents are dead-”
Just then, the mic was ripped out of his hand by his brother. Bertrand forced a chuckle and spoke into the microphone. “Um, best wishes on your sixteenth birthday Lady Olivia. My brother and I are very grateful for the invite to your party but I’m afraid something urgent has come up and we must take our leave. Goodnight everyone.”
Bertrand quickly ushered Maxwell out of the ballroom and down an empty hallway before turning to face him. “ARE YOU INSANE!?”
“What?”
“You used her birthday party to insult her? And you were about to ridicule her dead parents!”
Max shook his head. Of course Bertrand had no idea what comedy was. “It’s not insulting, it’s called a roast! It’s the highest honor you can give someone!”
Bertrand ran a hand down his face, “My God, Maxwell. We have to get out of here.”
“Why?”
Just then, the ballroom doors slammed and the sound of high heels stomping down the hallway grew closer and closer. Olivia rounded the corner, looking like a wild animal, and pointed at Maxwell. “YOU!!!”
“Run, brother!” Bertrand shouted and Max took off as fast as he could. Why was Olivia so angry? Maybe she needed someone to explain what a roast was, but Max wasn’t about to stop running to do so.
Eventually he gave her the slip and crammed himself in a dumbwaiter to hide. A terrifying hour later Olivia gave up hunting him and returned to the party. He and Bertand slipped out and weren’t invited to Lythikos ever again.
“I still don’t think she knows what a roast is!” Max chuckled and shook his head, laying next to Liam.
Liam laughed, “Maxwell Beaumont, you are the only person in the world brave enough or crazy enough to ‘roast’ Olivia Nevrakis.”
The two lay together in contented silence, simply enjoying each other’s company. “When do you have to leave?” Max asked quietly.
Liam sighed, “Soon probably.”
Maxwell felt his heart drop. “Oh.”
Liam checked his watch with a frown. “I have a stupid meeting early tomorrow morning with Leo, my father, and the council. I have to start learning about amending treaties and other bullshit.”
“Well we have at least a few more minutes together.” Max turned over to face Liam and smiled, “Wanna hear some new music?”
Liam smiled, “Sure.”
Maxwell grabbed his phone and scrolled through to his newest favorite album. It wasn’t dance music like he usually favored, but had more of an indie romance vibe. Max closed his eyes, heavily in his feelings about listening to love songs next to Liam. His body was so close, Max could feel the warmth radiating from him and he was trying his best not to get too excited.. In more ways than one.
Suddenly he felt the soft, gentle warmth of Liam’s hand slide into his own. He opened his eyes abruptly and looked at his best friend. It was all he could do not to squeal with joy. The two shared a smile and lay together for the next half hour, hand in hand, enjoying the music and company, until Liam had to return home.
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I want more sharp utterances Yuu
First-year students love the "sharp tongue" of the Prefect. But when she starts speaking it, they are afraid of her.
There is an unspoken rule between Ace, Deuce and Grimm - never to anger the Prefect on purpose. And not on purpose either.
Because Yuu herself is quiet and peaceful in character, but her anger is worse than all the overblots that they have experienced.
Sometimes some students quarrelYuu just because she is a "girl"
- Your place is in the kitchen near the stove.
Yuu looks cold with a hard look at this idiot. She usually speaks very quietly and calmly. But if they start to irritate her intentionally, then her voice becomes very confident and firm. Against which you will not want to go even under the guise of the guillotine.
Imagine any teacher, they do not raise their voice, do not shout, do not insult. But they speak so imperiously and coldly that this tone gets to goosebumps and a chill on the back of the head.
- My place is near your tombstone. There's a vacancy for garden fertilizers in my dorm, but you won't fit even weeds in the ground.
Ace whistles softly and applauds looking at all this.
One of the big Savanaclaw students tried to provoke Yuu
- If your muscles are so pumped that they clamp a single gyrus in your head, then this is your problem, not mine.
Jack really liked how Yuu was able to verbally beat this guy.
One of the Pomfiore also tried to quarrel with Yuu somehow.
- Look at you!!The clothes are untidy, unkempt, not even ironed!!And your hair and face? This is simply outrageous!
Yuu is completely calm – well, you know, you don't look like a rose bush either. Now I understand why others have to use such a perfume, no one wants to deal with a talking trash instead of a mouth.
Vil seriously talked to Yuu so that Epel would not take an example from her. But, of course, he did not say that he liked this answer.
My favorite even if it was already
- Do you see that cactus? GO EAT IT.
Sometimes her words are not offensive, just becomes the only "honest" and not afraid to speak them directly.
Riddle does not allow to eat pies on some day, and although he looks at them himself, because he is terribly hungry. And the smell is too inviting.
- Riddle-senpai, if you want to eat. You can sit down to have a tea party and eat. There is not a single mention in the rules that the queen cannot arrange tea parties whenever she wants. If there are rules, but the punishment is not stipulated. You can choose any one. You can just go and water the rose bushes to calm your own conscience.
Ace and Deuce are extremely impressed by her courage to talk like that to others. Even with senpai.
And don't be afraid to get punished by them.
Trey and Cater are very curious to watch the first-year Onboro.
Riddle was very puzzled by her words, but in the end they had a tea party and watered the flowers.
Kalim asking for advice from Yuu to make Jamil's life more comfortable after Chapter 4.Because he thinks that Yuu is the best judge of the feelings of others, to be precise, she is honest with him and offers really good things. To sort out the tangle of threads that he has in his heart.
- Set two hours apart from each other. Jamil can do whatever he wants. You, Kalim, will study what your weaknesses are and what is hard for you and what you need. No worries. No orders, no demands, calls and messages. Only if it's really urgent.
- Um... it's a little difficult for me Yuu. Can you give an example?
- If you eat the same dish every day, all the time without any options. You will get so tired of it that you will not try others when they offer you. At the same time, you will always be watched by someone alone so that you only eat this dish.
Kalim thought so hard that he was silent for 15 minutes. Yuu was even scared.
Jamil was in great shock when Kalim suggested something similar.
As a thank you, he gave Yu books on cooking with simple recipes that she could use.
Leona will never admit in his life that he also really likes Yuu's "sharp comments".
- Sometimes I want to make a rug for the fireplace out of your students. Or you talk to them. Either I'm talking to them and it won't end well.
From Yuu you can sometimes hear
- What idiots will do this ......a......these are my idiots. That explains everything.
- I will make a list of prohibitions, not rules, and as a punishment they will clean the Onboro dorm with a hamster toothbrush.
- Your stupidity is starting to give me a headache. My head will stop hurting, but you will have to live with stupidity all your life.
- What is our rule with boys? We see an angry Sebek - we plug our ears.
- Burn everything is becoming an increasingly attractive option. But it won't solve the problems.
Over time, Yuu becomes very bold in talking to the Director. The Leader Dorm are shocked when she talks to Crowley like that without any shame or fear.
But usually Crowley doesn't even listen to her.
- You should change the cylinder, otherwise apparently the remains of the bird's brains are completely clamped.
Leona and Vil could barely contain their laughter.
- Has the ass of a chicken, and wags his tail like a mangy Peacock.
Azul sat with a silly grin until the end of the meeting, trying not to burst out laughing.
- If Director Crowley tells me to do it again, I will have a deal so that he flies from the window of his office.....without a broom.
- Even the taxidermist of birds won't want to have anything to do with him.
#twisted wonderland fanart#twst wonderland#twst#twst mc#twst yuu#disney twst#twisted wonderland#twst ace#ace twst#twst jack#twst vil#twst leona#twst crowley#twst riddle
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Day 129: Pangea
cw: mentions homophobic slurs
It was their day off.
Their one day when they didn't have to work and their five year old was at the muggle nursery school. They often cleaned and did laundry on days like these, but they always made a point of spending some quality time together. Harry had realized shortly after they'd adopted Cassie that it really hurt their relationship not to have time they set aside for just the two of them.
Today they were headed to get some ice cream and talking about the slumber party they were going to be hosting in a few days and all of the arrangements that had to be made when Harry's mobile started to ring.
Draco watched curiously as Harry pulled it out of his pocket, "Hello?"
"Yes, hi, is this Mr. Potter Malfoy?" a woman asked.
He glanced at Draco and put the phone on speaker, "Yes, this is Harry."
"Hi," the woman said again, "This is Linda in the school office. We're going to need you to come pick Cassie up."
"What? Why?" Draco asked before Harry could reply. "Is everything alright?"
"Sorry, I have you on speaker so my husband could hear you."
The woman chuckled and Draco looked ready to reach through the screen and strangle her. "Everything's fine. She just had a little disagreement with one of the other students and is pretty upset. The head mistress will have a chat with you when you get here."
"The head mistress!" Draco hissed.
Harry laid a hand on Draco's shoulder. "Thanks for calling us. We'll be right in." He hung up and braced himself for the inevitable.
(Read more below the cut)
"What happened?" Draco asked immediately.
He rolled his eyes and turned around to walk back to their house so they could drive to school, "You heard what I heard," he said. "I don't know any more than you."
"Yes but you went to Muggle primary school!" he protested, walking quicker. "You should have some idea-"
"I don't."
"Do you think it was accidental magic?" Draco asked.
He shook his head. "That was not the sound of a call about accidental magic."
"Then what do you think she was fight about?"
"Draco, there are a thousand things to fight about. Muggle children are just as unpredictable as wizarding children." He reached over and took Draco's hand, "She's only five, how much trouble could she be in?"
----------
When they arrived Cassie was over talking to a different adult and the headmistress waved them in.
She seemed happy enough so Harry let her be and followed the headmistress in, Draco all but vibrating with nervous energy behind him.
"Mr. and Mr. Potter-Malfoy, thank you for coming."
"Harry and Draco are fine," he said.
"What happened?" Draco asked quickly.
Harry glanced at him, "Sorry. We've just never been called in before. Is Cassie in trouble?"
"This afternoon, Cassie told a story to her classmates about how the continents got separated."
"Gaia," Draco nodded. "It's one of her favorites, she likes to hear about how life thrives no matter what."
Harry took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"Right," Headmistress Blake replied, "and that's great. Storytelling improves communication skills and it's great for students to share like that."
"So why are we here?" Draco asked.
"Jacob told her that Gaia wasn't real, that the whole story was made up, and tried to tell her about Pangea."
"Pangea?" Harry asked incredulously. "How old is this kid?"
She chuckled, "His parents are geologists."
"Still!" Harry said, "That's pretty advanced for a five year old." Draco looked completely befuddled as though he had no idea what they were talking about. "But I still don't understand why we're here."
"I'm getting to it," she said. "She tried to tell him that it was just a story that her father told her."
Draco nodded, "Should we not tell her stories like that?" he asked, sounding panicked.
"Not at all," she said, giving him a warm smile in an obvious attempt to diffuse his anxiety. "But Jacob called you a liar and used a bit of derogatory language."
Harry's entire body froze, "Excuse me?" He'd been hoping that she'd be in Hogwarts by the time other kids were old enough to understand the implications of having two dads. It wasn't a big deal in the wizarding world, but it mattered in the muggle world still.
Headmistress Blake nodded, "She told him it wasn't nice to talk about people that way and insisted that Draco wasn't a liar. When Jacob doubled down on the slurs, she punched him."
"Good." Harry covered his mouth, "Sorry," he said quickly. "Sorry, it's just-"
"We have taught our daughter not to hit," Draco insisted, glaring at Harry. And while this was true, they had, it was only because Draco was already teaching her the words for jinxes that would be more effective. She was going to be a terror once she got her wand. "I'm sorry, I'm afraid that I don't understand what sorts of slurs you're referring to."
The headmistress rubbed her eyebrow uncomfortably, "He called you poofs and said that fags can't be trusted," she said and Draco's jaw dropped, his hand clenching Harry's so hard that Harry was afraid he'd need a healing spell cast when this was over. "Other students overheard and told Miss Murray after the fact."
"We taught her not to hit," he said, "But we've also taught her that it's important to stand up for what is right," Harry said. "It sounds like she tried to use her words first and then when that didn't work she used a different means available to her."
"But the next step should have been talking to her teacher, not punching another child."
Harry nodded, "I can understand why you'd-"
"Excuse me, Harry," his husband interrupted, "But I can't," Draco said bluntly. "And here's why; we are raising our daughter to be strong and independent because Salazar knows that women are not taken seriously in this world. Teaching her now that there is someone to help her when she is being verbally assaulted will not help her when she is grown."
"Mr. Potter-Malfoy, I understand what you're saying but-"
Draco shook his head, "With all due respect, there is no but. If her teacher didn't notice that another child was shouting bigoted slurs at her because she has two fathers then no one was coming to her rescue."
The headmistress squared her shoulders, "Cassie's being suspended for two weeks."
"What?" Draco spat.
"We cannot set a precedent that allows for violence to be the answer."
"And what is Jacob's punishment?" Draco demanded.
She blinked at him, "He's got a broken nose."
"Setting aside that his actions still deserve a punishment from a source of authority so he doesn't continue to grow into a bigoted prick, let's just say for the sake of argument," Draco said, voice sharp as nails, "that she'd gone over and told Miss Murray about what he'd said what would his punishment have been?"
"He would to apologize," she replied.
"What? Just said he was 'sorry'?" he asked incredulously. "That's it?"
She nodded, "Yes. He's only five."
He turned to look at Harry completely outraged, "This whole school can fuck off," Draco said, standing from his chair and pointing at Harry, "I told you this was a bad idea."
Harry winced, he had in fact said this was not a great plan, just not for this reason.
"We'll be taking our daughter home today and she will not be coming back," he said. "And we will be telling this story to anyone who will listen."
"Mr-" she started, looking taken aback, since Draco had always been the polite one of the two of them.
"Oh, don't even start with me," he growled. "I run a very successful design business and while I do not understand how most of the social media works, I have someone who I pay to do it and she and I have been friends for a long time. Get ready to lose any family that you have that has a conscience, you can become the place for all backwards bigots." He started toward the door and Harry stood up.
"We'll sue you for slander," she said.
He looked over at her, completely unimpressed, "It's only slander if it's not true."
"It'll be your word against ours," she replied.
A pale eyebrow rose, "Yes it will. Lucky for me that I've recorded this entire lovely exchange," he said, twirling a pen that the Weasleys sold at the joke shop that did just that. "Feel free to contact our solicitor about anything else."
And with that he swanned out of the office.
Harry stared at her for a long moment, "Maybe you should consider educating your parents and students." Then he followed Draco out.
Draco was already squatting next to Cassie, murmuring softly to her, "yes, well done, my darling," he said pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"He was really mean, papa," she murmured.
His husband nodded, "I know, love."
"Hey, bean," Harry said, ruffling Cassie's curls and bending over to kiss her temple. "Let's get out of here, yeah? Do you have all of your things?"
She held up her unicorn backpack and nodded.
Harry helped her get her backpack on and then they set off, each of them holding one of her hands.
Cassie chattered away about the rest of her day, not even mentioning her run in with Jacob again.
-------------
After they put Cassie to bed they came back downstairs and Harry collapsed onto Draco on the sofa, resting his head in his lap.
"Pansy says that story is spreading like wildfire."
"Really?" Harry asked.
Draco nodded.
"S'kinda sexy," he said.
Draco laughed, "Sorry?"
He shrugged a shoulder, "You getting all livid and protective. It was sexy."
His husband's fingers combed through his fringe, "I'll always fight for you, for her, and for us," he promised.
"I know," he replied. "You're a good man Draco Potter Malfoy."
"It's only going to get harder," Draco said.
"Maybe, but we'll look for a more inclusive nursery school-"
Draco shook his head, "I mean when she heads to Hogwarts."
"I don't think so. People don't care about a man marrying another man," he said.
"But they care about the savior marrying a death eater and then disappearing for almost a decade and a half." He sighed, "I just wanted her to start somewhere where my sins wouldn't burden her and here we ar-"
"Hey," Harry said, sitting up and stopping the words coming out of his mouth. "You are not a burden to her and our marriage isn't a sin that could ever burden her-"
"I didn't mean to imply that you-"
"Listen to me," Harry interrupted. "Draco, you are a good dad," he said as he cupped his cheeks in his palms. "You are a good husband and you are a good person. We are both lucky to have you."
"Harry," he murmured, eyes downcast.
"You are," he promised. "I love you and Cassie loves you. and we are so blessed to have you."
"I love you too," he said, "But this isn't the last bully-"
"I know," Harry assured. "And we'll always be here for her, yeah?
Draco took a deep breath before nodding. "Yes. You're right."
"Ooh," Harry replied, crawling over him and straddling his hips. "I love it when I get to be right."
His husband rolled his eyes, "Just kiss me already."
And of course Harry obliged him.
Life wasn't always easy or perfect but they always had each other and Cassie always had two dads who would go to the end of the earth for her.
----------------------
Day 128: Snake | Day 130: Forfeit
#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days#one year of drarry drabbles#drarry ficlet#drarry drabbles#established relationship#married#parents#cw:mentions homophobic bigots
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You asked for a prompt for Mermay. I don't think I'm the best at ideas, but I do remember you had a series called Illyria aquarium. With recent changes in the story, why not a prompt where delilah's introduced to the aquarium? Feels like the natural next step.
I cannot in good conscience say I had a good reason for this to be so late. Really don't. It's annoying me too. But thankfully it's done now!
Also since this is the first time in a bit I've written and posted something here, I'm going to start using my new proper tag for fics and only fics, filed under Frog Writes. I'll be going back and tagging old stuff soon with the new tag as I've promise earlier, so hopefully everything will be better organized.
-
Every new mer was a surprise at the aquarium, even if she knew they would be coming. Jack-O hadn’t believed Axl at first when he’d said as much to her, but even after a half-dozen or so newcomers, she was always excited about whatever new fish was being brought into their care. Each one was special and unique in its own way, and finding out about their own individual quirks and making them comfortable in the aquarium always made for a fulfilling challenge.
“Morning, Axl!” She strode into the building with even more excitement than usual. “Is our new guy here yet?”
“Oh, heya, Jackie. Yeah, got a call a few minutes back. Gonna head up to the lab, soon as I’m done with the floor.”
“The…the floor that I am…currently standing on.” Turning pink, she moved off of the spot to let Axl vacuum it.
“Much obliged.”
Still, she could tell that he was just as excited. They fell back into chatter as soon as they had the chance, hurrying up to where they knew their coworkers and the new guest would be.
“So, what do you think it’s gonna be?”
He shrugged, still smiling. “Dunno! Maybe another octopus? Hey, y’know, it’s probably not this, but I’ve always wondered what it’d be like if there was a kissing fish version of a mer. Y’know, the ones that fight with their faces?”
The mental image nearly made Jack-O trip over her feet. “Oh my god, that’s such a weird thought. Would they just go around, aggressively kissing everyone?”
“And you just know someone would take that the wrong way.”
“The other mer, or the visitors?”
“...Yeah.”
The lab tank had been set up as usual, full of rocks and plants to hide behind if the occupant was too nervous to let themselves be seen. Jack-O could almost make out something purplish-brown half-hidden in the thickets, but I-no’s voice pulled her away.
“Oh good, the kiddies have arrived.”
“And g’morning to you too,” Axl snarked back. “Ain’t you bright-eyed.”
It was hard to tell how literal that was supposed to be, but Jack-O could spot several of the woman’s coffee mugs scattered across the table. “You’ve been awful busy, huh?”
“Getting a new mer doesn’t mean I get a break, it just means I gotta keep track of one more thing than usual.” I-no took a sip from the mug currently in her hand, then scrutinized the bottom. “And if you guys didn’t show up soon, I was gonna have to start mixing the special shit into my coffee instead of my usual.”
The girl gave her an odd look. “...Isn’t your ‘usual’ already 110-proof whiskey?”
Another sip. “Yep.”
“Uh…” She decided to move the topic.“Still trying to see if those splotches on Faust are mucous?”
“Raven took a sample this morning, we’re pretty sure he’s fine. And he seems perfectly happy, as long as he just looks peculiar and doesn’t act peculiar, then we’re not all that worried.”
Jack-O nodded. “Makes sense. Just wanna make sure our favorite seahorse isn’t sick, y’know?”
“Jackie, I’m a marine biologist. That’s literally my job.” I-no still gave her hair a friendly ruffle. “Amazed you two haven’t talked my ear off about meeting the new girl yet. Guess that means I gotta reward you~”
Axl rolled his eyes, arms folded along his chest. “Never thought I’d say this, but can we be horny some other time?”
“Or what, you’ll fire me, temp?” Still, she seemed to get the point. She moved over to the large tank and looked it up and down. A finger pointed somewhere along the bottom. “Right about there, you see her? The shadows make it a little hard, but you can see her tail moving.”
Jack-O tried to hide her excitement as she and Axl pressed up against the glass. Sure enough, with I-no’s direction, she spotted the mer rather quickly. Quite a tiny thing compared to what she was used to. Short brown hair fanned around her head in the water, but it didn’t do much to make her look bigger. Jack-O surmised that she didn’t need to look bigger. The mer had her own way of being intimidating. Despite being curled up on the sand, she still glared back at the starers with a frightening intensity for her size.
“Still a kid, huh?” Jack-O said. She already knew the implications of this, and none of them were especially pleasant. “Was she found stuck in something?”
“Sorta.” I-no shrugged. “As far as we’re aware, she was originally from some exotic breeder, guy was cranking the things out like crazy to sell ‘em to rich folks. Makes for a conversation piece, y’know? Put ‘em in a big tank in your ~atrium~ or some rich bullshit and invite your rich friends over to look at it.”
Jack-O could tell that everyone else already hated this as much as she did. “They found her at the breeder mill?”
“Nah, she was sold off. Bought by a traveling circus so guests could gawk at her. ‘Course, when you don’t socialize a mer properly and don’t feed it enough, that’s how you get idiots with nipped fingers. And instead of trying to fix anything, they ended up just trying to cut their losses and dumping her in a nearby river.”
Axl was aghast. “Th- They dumped her in the river??”
“Aaaaand this is why I didn’t bring you for pickup.” I-no sighed. “I can’t blame you, though. It’s fucked. Remember, this is shit we’re good at. If we do what we’re paid for, then she should be fine.”
Jack-O put a hand on his shoulder. “All that matters is that she’s with us now, right? It’s all up from here.”
“Right. Right…” Axl looked convinced, but it did little for the disgust in his eyes.
“Does she have a name yet?”
“They didn't bother giving her one, she was just ‘the mermaid.’ Raven’s suggestion was ‘Delilah.’” Said I-no.
Jack-O thought about it for a moment. “It’s cute, I like it!”
Axl’s hands were still trembling at his sides in anger. Jack-O reached out and took one, giving it a squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna take care of her.”
With his free hand, he reached out and brushed his fingers against the glass. “Hey there, kiddo. You’re gonna have a great time here. It’ll be real nice.” He looked over his shoulder at I-no. “What kinda fish is she? Tail looks sorta sharky, but I got no idea what kind.”
“Still haven’t quite figured it out. Hard to tell from a glance since there’s a human head instead of a snout, but the size and fin shape’s saying something in the Dalatiidae family- Raven doesn’t agree, he’s thinking Somniosidae. Hell, can’t say for sure she isn’t some kind of hybrid, who knows what that freak was breeding together. Either way, definitely some kinda shark.”
“Shark, huh?” It was hard to see that without the massive teeth and beady eyes, but Jack-O had read more than enough of her mom’s textbooks to know sharks came in all kinds of strange shapes and sizes. “Is she a biter?”
“Eh, got a temper, not like I can blame her. Make sure you wear the heavy-duty gloves.”
“We moving her now?” Asked Axl.
“Still figuring out where to put her. We’re gonna want to be careful with this. She’s pretty aggressive, but also pretty fragile since she’s young, so if another fish smacks her into the wall, it could do a lot of damage.”
“So, Potemkin, then?” Jack-O offered. “He’s usually our go-to.”
I-no shook her head. “The thought I’m having right now is putting her in with another adult female. Might help with the socialization. Pot’s fantastic, but even if he bonks into her on accident, he could break something. Besides, I think the big guy needs a break from playing peacemaker with the trouble cases, at some point it’s gonna stress him out, too.”
“Uh…Ram and El, then?”
“Too friendly. Delilah would probably see that as threatening and start a fight. Sharon might work, but then we’d have to worry about Slayer-”
Axl suddenly snapped his fingers. “Baiken. Put ‘er in with Baiken.”
Both Jack-O and I-no looked at him in horror. Moreso Jack-O, as ‘horror’ was currently second fiddle to ‘viciously homicidal’ in I-no’s eyes.
“Baiken, are you insa- ?!”
She cut herself off as quickly as she’d started. “...Actually,” I-no tore open a file cabinet and pulled out a few test papers. “All of our notes on Baiken show that she doesn’t tend to fight unless someone bothers her first. Maybe that’s crazy enough to work.”
“Maybe, maybe. Worth a shot.” Axl nodded. “I got something else, though. Any of ya familiar with cats?”
++++++
A sturdy mesh fence had been installed to partition the tank into halves. Sturdy, at least, for the subjects involved. For someone like Sol or Potemkin, it would be like tearing apart soggy paper. Baiken, thankfully, only watched with annoyance, and stayed on her rock.
Anji took to the new oddity with the same response he did for everything new and possibly harmful to him, curious wonder. The way I-no held her long stick, she almost looked inclined to swat at him with it. But as long as he stayed a good enough distance away, she held back.
Delilah, likewise, wasn’t especially thrilled with the situation she’d found herself in. She tried to chew on the net she was scooped out in, and when that didn’t work, she tried to grab onto and gnaw on the hands holding it. Hauling her out of the transport tank wasn’t a complicated task with her size, but Delilah’s restlessness had it take a lot longer than usual. Any attempts at placating words were merely met with an angry hiss.
The very moment she was free in the tank, she tore off and squeezed into the corner. That much was normal, at least. Being in a new tank could be stressful, especially for a mer who was completely new to the aquarium. No matter what they tried, it was only natural that it would take some time for their new guest to become comfortable. For the time in-between, all they could do was take care of them.
“Fingers crossed we don’t get too many weird questions about it.” Jack-O looked from her co-worker back to the tank. “But then again, I know the little kids tend to really like sharks, so she’ll be popular…which means a lot more people at the tank.”
Axl shrugged. “Eh, gonna try and hope for the best. Just say Delilah’s a little shy, don’t gotta explain everything to ‘em.”
“I guess that’s fair.”
After the fact, it didn’t take long for things to go back to normal. A new mer was serious business for a couple of days, but it quickly settled into being just another part of the daily routine. That was how it was for the staff, at least. Though they hadn’t gone out of their way to advertise, social media spread things around quite quickly, and many a visitor stopped by the following week with eagerness in their eyes to look at the new shark.
“If they don’t quiet down, I’ll never be able to get a good snapshot.” Another mechanical camera click bounced off of the glass, followed by yet another sigh. “Dear Miss Hale, are you certain you can’t shoo them away? Not even for ten minutes?”
Jack-O grimaced in sympathy. “Sorry, Tes. I’m gonna see if we can set you up with some time after-hours. It’ll be a lot quieter then, but it means we’ve gotta keep this part of the building turned on longer, and that means we’ll need more people staying overtime.”
They nodded. “Understood. I suppose I should have anticipated this crowd.”
Though if anyone could make the best of a wait, it was Testament. Every time she passed by on a tour or to restock the bathrooms, she spotted them on the bench across from the koi tank. They had their camera trained on it and kept peering into the lens, every once in a while sitting back and grabbing the sketchpad at their side to draw out a few lines. They almost made it look fun, which was impressive, given that basically nothing was happening. Baiken went in circles, and Delilah napped on the same rock she had spent most of her stay on. It was almost as though they refused to acknowledge each other's existence. Both stayed away from the grate altogether, and even Anji had lost interest.
“You’re not bored?”
“Mmm.” Testament made a noncommittal noise, sketching a bit more. “Delilah’s lack of movement makes it easier to draw her. It’s a good opportunity.”
“You couldn’t just snap a picture and draw from that?”
Another noise. “I suppose. This feels more organic.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Jack-O shrugged. “I’m not an artist. Closing’s in half an hour by-the-by, if you can wait a little longer.”
“Duly noted, thank you.” They gave the tank a sly look. “I’ll get my perfect photo, dear mer. I am a very patient individual.”
The last of the visitors gradually straggled out. As soon as the pre-recorded closing messages played out over the speakers, Jack-O made her way around the walkways, picking up garbage and making sure nobody had tried sticking around after hours. Movement in the corner of her eye made her jolt, until she processed the fact that it was just Testament. The fact that they seemed significantly more spirited than usual didn’t help her brain decipher it.
“You look excited! Finally get a good shot?”
Testament turned to her with a genuine smile. “That and more! My goodness, it seems those two are making for good friends!”
“...Friends?”
They gestured to the tank. Delilah had left her sleeping rock to drift quite close to the fence, head tilted in curiosity. Baiken, likewise, was looking over with vague intrigue, though she stayed to the side.
“What the heck? Where’s this come from?” Jack-O asked as Testament took several eager photos behind her. “When’d this happen?”
“Ten, perhaps fifteen minutes ago?” They replied. “But I believe this was actually the blue one’s doing, he seemed quite interested in the fence. He’s swam off for now, though, I couldn’t tell you why.”
Anji? It didn’t feel too out of sorts for him, but it still left her feeling strange. Why would he swim off?
“Well, I guess it’s good they’re warming up to each other a bit? As long as they keep their distance, It should be fi-”
No sooner did the words leave her mouth for her to immediately regret them. Baiken’s long, spotted tail swept out from underneath her, and she began intently paddling towards the other side of the tank.
“No, oh no no nope, this isn’t happening.” Dropping her bag of garbage, Jack-O sprinted for the employee stairwell and threw all her weight into tearing open the doors. “This is not happening right at the end of my shift!”
It was harder to tell what was going on from above instead of through the glass as the water rippled, but it was clear enough that Baiken was still moving closer. A blurry silhouette of Testament waved its arms in the air, but any words were impossible to decipher.
Nobody else was around to assist, forcing her to unlatch and pull open the overhead grate with only her own two hands. It was always moments like this that had her bemoaning passing up the gym, but that didn’t do much good for her now. The metal slammed hard against the concrete as it was let go. On a better day, she’d have been more careful- well, on a better day, she’d have help. Whether or not there was a crack could be a problem for later.
After hauling the weight of the grate, the temporary fence in the tank looked positively flimsy in comparison. And in the one moment of desperate hope she allowed herself, Baiken promptly erased it. With utter ease, she tore at the metal with her one arm and yanked a chunk of it back, just as easily as Sol would have. Not large enough for any mer to pass through, but a glaringly clear example that Baiken was capable of it.
“And this is why I said we should’ve used Potemkin!” She snapped at nobody. “Shit, shit shit shit-” Jack-O scrambled for the supply station that housed the diving mask and I-no’s prodding stick. This was grim, but if she was fast (and incredibly lucky) she could still intervene before anyone could start mauling anyone else.
Baiken continued to tear apart the grate, at one point poking her head through before going back to pulling the hole open wider. Jack-O fumbled with the mask’s clunky straps and tried to see through its glass eyeholes to make sure the water wasn’t filling with blood.
It hadn’t. But Baiken was swimming through the wall.
The last of the straps clicked into place. The only reason that she didn’t immediately dive headfirst into the tank was a last-second realization that she still wore the work belt housing her supplies, and, most importantly, the radio. Which meant more buckles and straps to undo. It was an easy task…at least, it was in the morning, but now she was struggling in panic, and even moreso worsened by repeatedly glancing up from the belt to look at the tank. Baiken had bypassed the torn-apart barrier and swam straight to Delilah, and through the rippling water, she had a hand trying to wrap around the smaller mer before she could pull away.
Jack-O’s heart sank deeper into her body. No- she could still stop this. This wasn’t a lost cause, not yet. The last strap tore clean off from enough desperate tugging. She moved to throw it behind her and lunge forward, and-
Her belt started to vibrate.
“...Huh?”
More on autopilot than anything else, she fished for the vibration, and pulled out her phone from one of the pouches.
New Message!
From: Testament
Attachment: 1 Image
“Tes?” Were it anyone else, she would have thrown it aside. Instead, she clicked on the notification and let it fully pop up. Just like it had said, the message only contained a single image.
It was the mer.
Jack-O looked up from her phone, then back down. Baiken’s arm was nowhere near Delilah’s neck, or any other vulnerable spot to rip at. It was merely draped over the girl’s shoulder. And, curiously, Delilah was completely tranquil, curled up against the larger mer’s chest.
Her phone buzzed again
Testament: Lookit thm!! Cue!!!
Usually, Testament’s texting was just as flowery as their speaking voice. They must have been in such a rush that they skipped the formalities. And the spellcheck.
It was a hard sight to believe. She kept looking back and forth to be sure it wasn’t a mistake, and then, to make sure it wasn’t momentary. Baiken, who reacted to most problems by biting down on them hard, was snuggled up to the shark as though they had been friends all their lives.
Still cautious, Jack-O tucked the stick under her arm and fished through her belt.
“Hey, uh,” She fumbled into the radio, “are any of the docs still here?”
++++++
“What the- ?!”
“I see…”
If there was some consultation, it was that her employers were just as confused. Raven less obviously so, but his dark-ringed eyes had sparkled in the way they were only known to do when something interesting caught his attention.
“So you guys aren’t sure, either?” Asked Jack-O.
“This is quite unusual.” Replied Raven. He looked over to Testament. “You’re quite certain nothing of interest occurred?”
They shook their head. “I’m certainly no mer expert, but aside from Mr. Mito’s vanishing, they simply stared at each other for a while.”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
“If mer have their own language, we still don’t know it,” I-no said. “Maybe it was body language. Or something else. This is gonna be one heck of a study.”
“But it’s not something to worry about?”
“Eh, wouldn’t worry about it too much, kiddo.” Jack-O was given a friendly pat on the head. “Should probably pull out the ripped fence so nobody gets cut on it, but we can let them mingle. Never thought I’d see Baiken getting along with kids…sheesh, every time I think I’m starting to figure these things out, they throw me for a loop.”
The way Baiken had curled around Delilah and Delilah had curled into her, it was hard to see it as anything other than contentedness. Jack-O wondered what they must have said or communicated to one another to have them be so friendly like this. Maybe she’d never understand. But as long as they were happy, that’s what mattered, right?
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