#something something flying close to the sun with gambling addiction

[local-magpie]

theres definitely something darkly funny about how dramatically my interest in gacha games reverse-correlates with my mental health and wellbeing

[queenretcon]

okay it’s Michelle’s birthday I want to talk about why I think this panel sucks

Probably wildly unsurprising for you to know I do not like Johns changes to Booster’s origin. (‘It was really Booster’s DAD who made him keep gambling!’ Shut the fuck up Geoffrey) But this panel from Booster Gold v2 #0 has been annoying me recently after I saw someone use it in a post explaining who she is

Because its a retcon. A totally unnecessary retcon.

We KNOW why Michelle became Goldstar. This is explained, clearly and unambiguously by Booster Gold volume #1. In fact the WHY of Michelle becoming Goldstar is her most important character trait.

She wanted to fly!

Jurgens hits this narrative trait HARD. Before the above Icarus beat in BG v1 #20, we see Michelle for the first time as a living breathing person and not a flashback in #15, and in that first moment she’s already in flight.

We meet her hanging out the window of her school bus aircraft, wearing the same blue & purple of Booster’s museum uniform. She flies the gang to safety, and Jurgens continues to connect Michelle with flight.

She immediately questions Booster on when he learned to fly, and then—because she’s got those Carter genes—she brags about how many pilot merits she has. She’s not just a pilot; she’s a fucking good one.

Aside from changing the narrative to remove acknowledgment of Michelle’s defining character trait, this change also downplays the other thing I find most interesting about Michelle: the complexity of her relationship with Booster.

In Booster Gold v1 #21, Booster states that he and Michelle weren’t close the ways twins usually are, and a lot of the interactions we do get between them include them butting heads or otherwise stressing their differences. Michelle & Booster grew up in an unhealthy environment, dealing with addiction and poverty, and replacing Michelle’s major character trait while characterizing Michelle as looking up to Booster doesn’t sit well with me. Rather than giving a complicated family dynamic further fleshing out, this return to the Carter family serves to simply make it seem even sadder that poor Booster lost his sister.

To present her this way to the many, many people who have only read Johns take on Booster feels like Johns doing what Johns does: flattening the women in the Booster Gold mythos to serve the needs of men. Again and again, the changes he makes to the established canon steamroll over who these female characters (Michelle, Trixie, Ted’s mother, Oracle, Black Canary, Fire, on and on) are and replace it with something worse.

Despite how often she is undercut by narrative choices like this, I maintain that underneath, Michelle is a great character—brilliant, talented, headstrong, difficult. And I want so badly for Michelle Carter to get her time in the sun.

[oudenoida]

Can't sleep - raster and mal

The title of double agent, Raster Vellic thought, was profoundly misleading. There were more than two masks he wore on a daily basis, and the number of lies each mandated was a heavy burden that he could feel himself starting to wobble under. The idiot son, the covert scientist, the spy, the turncoat, the saboteur, the... lover? Having to remember what affectation, what lynchpin lie, what dancing deceit each one was built upon was a complicated set of maneuvers he felt himself making up the steps for as he went along; and looking out over the star-speckled ocean of Chandrila he wondered if, after taking off mask after mask after mask after mask, there was any kernel of truth buried in the heart of him at all. 

On the surface the lie at the center of his reason for being on Chandrila was easy enough. The Interplanetary Sabacc Championships were held there every year, and pretending to have a gambling addiction was a phenomenally easy way to explain why large sums of credits went missing from his Vellic Industries spending account. Far easier, at least, then attempting to explain to an accounting droid that he was spending the money on difficult to acquire parts and smugglers. 

The actual reason for their trip here was that Raster was arranging a pickup of refined focusing crystals from a black market agent he’d had dealings with in the past. They’d give the rebellion a range advantage after he outfitted their blasters with them and they truly needed any advantage that they could get. The initial meeting had been accomplished and after some particularly tense negotiations in the steam room; theoretically because it was one of the only places in the hotel that wasn’t bugged but also because it made it easy to see if anyone was wearing a wire, a price had been settled upon. It was exorbitant, but, he needed what he needed and he was willing to pay to make sure the rebellion had the upper hand. 

But unfortunately there were several days of downtime between the deal being arranged and the pickup happening which left his calendar wide open; and despite outward appearances Raster Vellic loathed idleness. 

There weren’t enough forms of entertainment in the galaxy to calm Raster down when he was deep in the throes of anxiety about a plan coming together. He’d filled half a notebook in tight machine-precise shorthand of plans, contingencies, and emergency plans to be delivered to Rebel leadership whenever Mal made it back to Yavin-4. What to do if he was compromised and needed an extraction from Vellic Prime, what to do if he was compromised and unable to make it off of Vellic Prime and had to implement the dead man’s switch he’d been working on in secret, caches and dead drops he’d left at various places, what they would need to change about tactics and plans if he was discovered… anything he could think of to be helpful in any small way but he’d run out of ideas hours ago and he wasn’t any closer to sleeping than when he’d started. He’d thought about calling Mal. His fingers had been hovered over the codes to open their secure channel a dozen times but had always second guessed and thought better of it. 

There wasn’t any easy way to try to quantify or qualify what exactly it was that he and Luck Maloris were; and as a scientist that frustrated the fuck out of him. 

He couldn’t even pinpoint when it had turned from animosity to begrudging comrades in arms to whatever romance-adjacent thing they were now. One minute it had been barking in the entry hall of Hawen Vellic’s estate for the pilot not to get grease on his bags, the next it had been sitting in a cockpit watching the radar in an asteroid belt around Polis Massa, elbow to elbow and all he could think about was the searing heat of Mal’s skin burning through the thin fabric of his over shirt, and then the next someone was slamming someone else against a corridor wall, lips hungrily finding any scrap of skin where they could beat a morse code of truth between two consummate liars. Even now Raster thought he could smell the ghost of vanilla and wood smoke on his clothes, a reminder of the silence and safety of hyperspace and what it allowed them to share. 

He thought he could see a path of wear in the lush carpet of his suite, having been pacing it like something caged and yearning to stretch for hours. A glance at the clock told him there were still long hours before the sun rose brilliant and carnelian over the gentle waves and in an instant he knew that the night was going to be too long. Raster was halfway to the elevators, still dressed far more casually than he normally appeared in public, before the suite door shut. In the middle of the night he’d hoped that he’d make it to the landing pads unseen, but an overzealous desk clerk clocked him. 

“Evening Mr. Vell-” 

“Speak to me again and I’ll have you fed to a zoo exhibit.” The harsh tap of the cane against the agate floor punctuated his words as he continued towards the landing pad, not slowing as he looked at the clerk, “Understood?”

To his credit the poor clerk only nodded mutely and Raster gave a razor thin smile, “Good. Glad we’re on the same page. If I walk onto the landing pad and see a single employee I’m going to get my father to use this place as his next testing ground.” He could hear the panicked fumbling with a comm panel as the desk clerk cleared out any staff from view from the landing pad he was about to stride across. He didn’t necessarily need a lot of witnesses to the sight of him sleepless and yearning. 

It appeared as if he had properly put the fear of death by experimental weaponry into the poor resort employee because the landing pad was deserted and quiet as he exited the main building, curly hair buffeted slightly by a salty breeze that smelled so much like home. With no ships currently arriving or departing the pad was lit only by basic emergency lights, but one passenger ship still had its lights on, a beacon in the murky darkness of Chandrila’s early morning. Raster knew it wasn’t Mal’s favorite thing to fly, he’d much prefer to be in his on X-Wing but when ‘working’ for Raster he had to at least keep up appearances, which meant he was stuck in the cockpit of the Corona for the duration of their trips. The ramp was still down and Raster strode up it softly, hefting his cane over his shoulder to avoid the ringing announcing his steps. Pausing at the entrance to his ship he could feel a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked at the back of his pilot, head half-into an access panel, the sounds of profanity under his breath as he fixed something. 

“I like to think I keep my ship in working order.” He spoke loud enough for Mal to hear him but not so loud that his voice inevitably carried out to the employees of the resort hiding just out of sight, “What are you in there breaking now?” 

He was rewarded with a profane hand gesture as the Mirialan withdrew from the access panel, wiping his hands on a rag stuffed in one pocket, “Your inertial dampeners are keyed up way too high. Sends your fuel efficiency plummeting. I’m just evening them out.” 

“Yes because ruining my careful tuning is exactly what most people do in the middle of the night. Can’t sleep?” Raster crossed the threshold into the ship and closed the hatch behind him, the soft hiss of it sealing the only sound between them for a long moment as he looked over at his pilot. “Did you know this is where my mother was from? Chandrila is where I was born actually.”

“Don’t like sitting around doing nothing.” Mal hadn’t moved to close the distance between them with his response and so Raster did so, stepping into the much shorter man’s space and looking down, gently and gingerly raising a hand to slide a thumb down a gently green jawline, just barely brushing Mal’s lip as he did so. The pilot didn’t respond to the bait of offered history, looking up and into Ras’ dark eyes as he waited him out. 

“Most people don’t think of ship maintenance as a substitute for sleep though.” It was so quiet in the ship Raster thought he could hear his own heartbeat echoing off the walls as Mal’s head dipped ever so slightly to press a kiss to the pad of his thumb. 

“We’re not most people though. You have to ask, Vellic. I’m not a mind reader.” 

The silence deepened and thickened; not the tense brittle silence of unknowing but something that could support and shelter the two men inside of it. Raster’s hand drifted down to Mal’s chest, gently grazing the exposed sliver of flesh from an unbuttoned uniform shirt. His hands spent so much time gripping wires or metal or plastic that it always shocked him how soft and warm another person was. They locked eyes and Raster’s mouth opened and shut several times, the hitch in his breath the only indication that something was lurking in the back of his throat attempting to be said. 

“.... Luck.” 

Mal’s hand settled on Ras’ hip, a steady support as they stood frozen in their small sanctuary, “Say it, Ras. Just spit it out.” 

Bringing his head down Raster nuzzled into the crook of Mal’s neck, a series of small kisses pressing a constellation into warm skin, some celestial map to try to lead him to the comfort he was seeking. “Can I spend the night with you?” 

A laugh was the first response, “It’s your ship, Mr. Vellic. Don’t really think it’s my call.” 

Pulling back Ras narrowed his eyes and glowered at the mirth in Mal’s eyes, “Not what I mean, Maloris, and you fucking know it.” 

Mal’s fingers slowly unbuttoned Raster’s shirt, sliding the thin fabric over and off smooth shoulders as he corralled him back towards the pilot’s quarters, “I don’t know if you’ll fit in the bed, you freak of nature, but we can certainly make a go of it.” 

As they careened towards bed, slamming into several walls as their faces were occupied with more than trying to find their way, Raster’s hand managed to find the switch to kill the lights and the ship fell into a dimness illuminated only by emergency running lights. He didn’t need the lights to see his way, though. With the feeling of Mal’s skin against his he knew exactly where he was going. 

[theduplicitousdame]

In-Depth Character Guide: Naharé Mergrey

Appearance

gender: Female race: Miqo’te, Seeker of the Sun height: 5'4" eye color: Gold hair color: Wine Red

The basics

name day: 8th Sun of the Sixth Umbral Moon occupation: Mercenary, Engineer sexual identification: Pansexual romantic identification: Polyromantic alignment: Chaotic Neutral criminal history: Public Intoxication, Theft, Assault, Aggravated Assault relationship status: Estranged from Askier kir Mergrey sweet on: Rolling Stone

Favorites

favorite food: Rabbit Pie favorite drink: Rum and whiskey favorite artist: None favorite scent: Jasmine, sea salt, grease, sweat, leather, alcohol/tobacco favorite person: D'lyhhia Lhuil

Ten random facts

1 –  As much as Naharé hates her parents, she'll privately make jewelry out of sea shells and beads like her mother, or go fishing like her father. Those are two of what little 'good memories' she's managed to hold on to.

2 – Whenever Naharé isn't covered in grease, sweat, or blood, she'll sometimes dab on a small amount of jasmine perfume.

3 – Her birth name is X'nahala Rahz, one she grew to loathe with every fiber of her being. As such she changed it to Naharé. For shits and giggles she tacked on her estranged husband's last name to be rid of the 'Rahz'.

4 – She hates dresses, skirts, blouses, and any other type of feminine clothing.

5 – Unfortunately she suffers from PTSD, night terrors, paranoia, and is prone to sudden mood swings. She's been admitted to 'chirurgeon care' twice.

6 – Naharé has a twin sister, X'tohba Rahz, and a half-brother, X'khajirr Tia, whom she tolerates.

7 – The bomb earring she wears is actually an escape route. Inside the earring is an aetheryte shard tuned to a random location within Eorzea. All she has to do is twist and yank the post and she'll disappear in blinding light as if a flash bang grenade went off. Naharé has multiple of these and she changes them out everyday.

8 – She's a horrible cook and prefers to leave the more complicated dishes to the professionals. On her own she's able to make simple meals to get by.

9 – Despite finding her kids to be an annoyance when it comes to getting work done, she also loves them. Beforehand she experienced a miscarriage and spent a good while devastated by the feeling. Naharé will curl up with them on her chest and spend time teaching them developmental skills appropriate for their age. She herself is learning 'how to mom' and will observe other moms while out in public settings.

10 – When it comes to drafting schematics and building/repairing new things, Naharé is very OCD and won't stop until every little thing is perfect. If she's going to do it, it's going to be done right.

Five things

5 things they like:

1. The fact that she can build Magitek prosthetics and almost anything Magitek in general. 2. Walking along the beach and swimming when no one is there. 3. Brawling, whether it be in a tournament or by instigation. 4. Practicing her gun slinging. 5. Reading, especially when it expands on skills she's already learned.

5 things they dislike:

1. People who are late or lazy. She can be very impatient at times. 2. Being cheated out of gil. 3. Frigid environments. 4. People that are too nosey and suffocating for their own good. 5. Being told what to do or restricted from anything.

5 good habits:

1. Loyal to those that eventually earn her trust. She'll defend them tooth and nail, and will relentlessly hunt down the offender if their grievance is severe enough. 2. Willingness to teach others if she believes they deserve it, for a price that is. 3. Does her best to uphold a positive image around D'lyhhia and their work with the Black Pearl Trading Company. (See, she can do a straight and narrow job too!) 4. Fulfilling personal work orders and delivering them on time. 5. Actually giving back items she's 'borrowed', whether she had permission, or by surprise and returning them in the same manner.

5 bad habits:

1. She's addicted to alcohol and tobacco, and will even partake of such activities in front of her kids. 2. She'll sleep as little as possible to avoid night terrors. 3. Brutally honest, and swears like a sailor, to the point that it doesn't phase her if it hurts the other person's feelings. 4. Manipulating situations to get what she wants while coming across as genuine and charming. 5. Harboring grudges. If something left a royally sour taste in her mouth then she won't let it go if her life depended on it.

5 personalities they gravitate toward:

1. Other mercenaries and engineers that share a similar lifestyle or end goal when it comes to contracts. 2. Those that hate nearly the same things she does. 3. People that enjoy smoking, boozing, brawling, and gambling. 4. Musers of Garlean technology. 5. Anyone that understands how to immediately back off when space is needed.

5 personality types they avoid:

1. Goody two-shoed holier-than-thou law enforcement or individuals like that in general. There's irony in this because she's part of FLEET Maelstrom Command's Foreign Levy under Trade Sails. Minding her tongue will be a feat in of itself. 2. Needy people that refuse to stand up for themselves or make their own decisions. 3. Magic users. Too many bad experiences, and she'll even priority shoot them during combat. 4. Manipulators working against her. (That's her specialty!) 5. Religious fanatics.

5 fears:

1. Having her kids taken away from her even though she's most definitely not the world's best mom. 2. Despite having been on airships and flying mounts, she's terrified of heights and will belly crawl on airships or close her eyes while flying if she has a partner. 3. The word and phrase, "Darling" and "Would you kindly?". 4. Unable to withstand the sound of ticking clocks. 5. Anything to do with magic.

Thank you: @jancisstuff, @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast, and @mirkemenagerie!