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maxwell-grant · 3 years

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Red of Overly Sarcastic Productions once said :"If you can imagine your Batman comforting a shared child, then congratulations, you're righting Batman. If not, you're just writing the Punisher in a funny hat". This got me wondering: could the Shadow comfort a scared child?

Could he? You forget who was there to lift young Bruce to his feet at his first brush with death (sadly far from his last).

But it's an interesting question to pose still, because children were straight up not in the pulps, not in any I've read, and I can't recall any episodes of the radio show that feature them much (there's gotta be at least a few, because they had everything in that show). The most interaction I think The Shadow's ever had with children (from comics that I can discuss here, because Marshall Rogers' "Harold Goes to Washington" is way, way too much for me to go into right now, and the less I talk about some other DC comics, the better) is in the Street & Smith comics.

There's Jerry from the Devil Kyoti arc, a kid who was traumatized by an encounter with the villain who Sayre's looking after and who ends up having some kind of hidden power that allows him to see The Shadow and defeat the villain. There was a blonde Jerry who showed up later in the Monstradamus arc, but he isn't a kid so much as he's diet Jimmy Olsen or a replacement for Harry, but he had weird eyesight-based powers and a familiarity with The Shadow, so I assume it's the same character.

There was also Donald Jordan - Shadow Jr, and okay, I may have to talk more about this weird little failed experiment some other time, but the basic gist of it is that The Shadow had a friend in Tibet named Harry Jordan (and someday I'm also gonna write about the weird prevalence and significance of the name "Harry" in The Shadow's mythos in and out of universe) who was murdered, leaving his son orphaned and with nowhere to go. And, I'll admit that I have a real weakness for The Shadow calling people "son", which he does a lot in this story.

And as you can expect, it then turns out that the kid's also learned how to cloud minds and has basically the same powers The Shadow has in these comics, and they solve the mystery of his dad's murder together, and yeah, you can absolutely tell that they are setting up this kid to be The Shadow's Robin. Although, interestingly, they don't have The Shadow actually recruit the kid, instead it's Jordan who asks The Shadow if he can go with him and join his mission, and Cranston even states he's going to have to "earn" his way

"Must I stay here, sir? It will always remind me of dad - I'd like to devote my life to your fight against evil and evil doers!

Now, "Shadow Jr's" career was incredibly short-lived, it only lasted for about two other issues, and I have no idea what happened in his final appearence called "Snake Eyes" in Shadow Comics #77, I cannot find that issue anywhere and I really want to. But the one other solo story of his I've read was...well, I think it kinda illustrates why the idea of The Shadow having a Robin was doomed from the start.

...Yeah. Even The Shadow at his most sanitized and family friendly is still The Shadow, and there's no room for children in his network, obviously he shouldn't and wouldn't have children be in those positions or make decisions expected from grown-ups who have already had encounters with death and danger, why would anyone do that-

The only instance I can think of The Shadow interacting with a child in the pulps was during The Prince of Evil, when he has to rescue a young boy from Stark's thugs.

Cranston, dazed, tried to stagger to his feet. Before he could do so, the thug had picked up the limp figure of the boy and was darting out into the street. There was a scream of horror from pedestrians.

A heavy truck was racing at top speed along the avenue. Straight into the path of the truck, the thug threw the senseless boy!

The driver of the truck jammed on the brakes. But it was too late to halt the heavy vehicle. The broad-tired wheels rolled toward the limp head of the lad on the pavement.

An instant before it could crush out his life, Lamont Cranston dived headlong into the path of destruction. His shoulder struck the boy, rolling him toward the curb. A quick wriggle, and Cranston swerved aside from the grinding death that loomed over him.

He picked up the boy. One glance and he knew there was no time to lose. The attempted killer had leaped into a waiting sedan and had already made his escape.

The boy was all Cranston could see or think about. Brass knuckles had fractured his skull. He had suffered a concussion of the brain. A glance at his bluish lips and the fixed glaze of his staring eyes told Cranston that unless the boy was operated on immediately, he would die.

A leap, Cranston was in his car. He laid the boy gently on the seat beside him, then headed the car toward the nearest hospital. Traffic lights were ignored.

The boy was taken to an emergency operating room and a skilled surgeon went to work. When it was over, Cranston asked only one question: "Will the child live?"

"Hard to say. We'll do our best."

"Spare no expense. Put him in a private room. Engage day and night nurses."

Cranston's face was pale. He knew that he himself was indirectly responsible for the boy's attack. A supercriminal had made a prompt answer to Cranston's message over Jackson's telephone. That telephone must have been tapped. The attempt to kill the boy was a vicious warning for Lamont Cranston to mind his own business about the Harmon family. It was a follow-up of the attack on Jackson's dog.

Cranston felt a surge of hot anger. He kept it under control while he answered routine police questions. He told all he knew - which was nothing.

He had only one angry thought. He intended to drive straight to the office of David Chester. He'd get the truth out of the sleek Chester, if he had to batter him with vengeful fists!

Cranston was actually halfway to Chester's office before common sense returned to him. He realized he had lost his sense of balance. He was behaving exactly as the crooks wanted. He was playing their game, not his!

He parked, and the hot rage drained slowly from him. He stopped thinking about the limp figure of a young lad on a white operating table.

This is definitely because Tinsley writes the character differently than Gibson, but I actually cannot think of another occasion where we got to read about The Shadow actively wanting to hit someone with his fists. It's very, very rare to read about The Shadow actually getting mad in the first place in such an undignified way. And I think with this passage, you'll start to notice a pattern.

The problem isn't that The Shadow cannot interact with kids or that he can't comfort them, he does it to his agents and adults he wants to help just fine, he knows how to address people in their language, or any language. The problem is, The Shadow is constantly surrounded by danger everywhere he goes, because he is The Shadow. He can be any number of things at any number of occasions, but usually, when The Shadow shows up, it's usually because people are going to die, and people are going to kill, and it's his job to address that and work the scales.

Children should not be anywhere near this, and if The Shadow's interacting with a child, it usually means that some grave danger or tragedy fell upon them, and he's here to either prevent greater tragedy or address the fall-out, and he'd be the first to agree that neither of these options should be happening at all. It doesn't mean he's not gonna do what's right and give life and limb to protect them, but, it shouldn't be up to the Boogeyman to look after them in the first place. Maybe it shouldn't be up to the Boogeyman to protect us.

But then again, as I mentioned when I talked about my own reasons for liking The Shadow so much, there are many kids who would like nothing more than to have the Boogeyman by their side to protect them. There's comfort in knowing that the scariest man in the room is unconditionally there to protect you, and that is the comfort that The Shadow gives best. Not as Cranston, not under a friendly face, but as what he is.

Due to a lack of scenes from the pulps or satisfying scenes from elsewhere, I will instead be pulling one from a fan story written by Kimberly-Murphy Smith, editor and writer of The Hot Cornerm where The Shadow rescues a child who was kidnapped for blackmail. I couldn't care less that it's fanfic, and if you do, come back in 20 or so years after The Shadow's been made public domain and it's gonna be just as official as anything licensed (on my “to write about” list: how fickle the separation between “official” and “fanfic” is, and the many times it plainly didn’t exist). There’s aspects of her writing I don’t care for, but I really like this scene and I do think The Shadow’s more gentle interactions with people are necessary to getting the character.

Annabelle.

She stopped crying for a minute. "Who's there?" she said, her voice choked.

A friend. Your mommy and daddy sent me to pick you up.

"Mommy? Mommy's here?"

Sh-h-h. Annabelle felt a gloved hand gently stroking her hair. She's waiting for you at home. So, we need to hurry up and leave.

"'kay." She looked around. "Where are you?"

It's kind of hard to see me. It's dark in here, plus you've been crying so much your eyes probably hurt.

"Yeah."

Don't be afraid. I'm here to help.

"'kay."

The implicit trust of children was simply amazing at times. Adults trembled in fear of The Shadow's wrath, but children somehow seemed to understand that he was there to help them, even if they couldn't see him.

Sit up, Annabelle. I'm going to pick you up. Be very quiet.

One hand took each of her arms and guided them around a neck she could not see. "Why are you wearin' a blanket?" she asked as the fabric of his cloak brushed against her shoulders.

Sometimes I get cold at night.

"Even in the summer?"

Even in the summer. He gently stroked her cheek and wiped away her tears. Now, you need to be very quiet so those bad men in the next room don't hear us. I'll bet you're tired.

She nodded.

He rocked her on his arms, projecting a very gentle hypnotic relaxation into her with his powers as he did. You probably didn't get your nap, either. Poor thing. Lean on my shoulder and go to sleep. And when you wake up, you'll be back with Mommy and Daddy.

She yawned, then snuggled against his shoulder and went to sleep.

The Shadow sighed with relief. Now to get past the men out front. He gently pulled the pistol out of its holster under his left arm and slipped it into the belted waist of his overcoat within easy reach, then secured his grip on Annabelle and draped his cloak over her.

She clutched the edge of his cloak in her hand like a security blanket and snuggled against his shoulder again.

(Art by Jill Thompson)

#replies tag #the shadow #pulp heroes #fanfic #I think about the -Sometimes I get cold at night- response a lot #and how superhero capes can easily be likened to oversized blankets #and The Shadow is one of the main reasons why capes became so popular among American heroes #seriously you can see how practically overnight so many heroes at the time imitating The Shadow acquired capes #and what is a hero if not a childhood fantasy manifest #they are all just wearing blankets to battle #I think my posts are turning into too much of rollercoasters

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m4gp13 · 4 years

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I generally try to keep relationshippy type posts more platonic on my blog but ethabaster shippers (or ethaster, as I’ve seen it referred to) y’all gave me content when there was none, this one’s for you babes <3 Also quick sidenote, this ship has extremely limited content in canon (which is to say, NONE) so a lot of this is based on speculation but bear with me because some of them are actually fairly plausible (or at the very least they aren’t explicitly ruled out by canon). Si tight because this may end up being pretty extensive.

The main reason they are shipped is because they are the only two similarly aged demigods in the titan army that we have any information on (including name) and thus have some small chance of meeting however it would be silly to say this is the only reason and - believe it or not - there are some other interesting reasons on why this is shipped. Keep in mind this is the PJO fandom, a fandom that visibly adores the “the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one” trope (have y’all seen how popular Solangelo is ???) and in that respect Ethan and Alabsters personalities are easily compatible.

I can’t recall a single instance in the books where Ethan is described as smiling; he is usually serious, driven and has very sharp responses to questions or statements he doesn’t like (see: “there is no wrong side”, glaring after being asked about his eye and almost pulling a sword on Percy for questioning his mothers motives and ethics). Alabaster on the other hand, while he is still traumatised from the massacre he recently witnessed, does still make ironic comments, smile and he is described at one point as “happy-go-lucky”. And yes, it is important to note that Ethan was with his enemy and Alabaster was with an ally during pretty much every page we see them in, the fact that Ethan had moments ago been rescued by the people he was snapping at and Alabaster still being somewhat cheery despite the horrors he had only just witnessed suggests it is more of a personality thing rather than a situation thing.

This beloved trope is of course not the only instance of compatibility between the two. For example, Ethan’s story ended with him giving up the notion of getting revenge on the Olympians like kronos wanted and instead giving his life to pursue and fulfill his original goal of balance. On the contrary, Alabasters story is currently in a state in which vengeance helps keep him going; he sites revenge as the only thing that would make him go anywhere near chb. This sort of balances them out and creates and interesting dynamic and it would be a joy to see them interact after this but considering Ethan’s current predicament I don’t think that’s likely except in fics. (although in this Ethans calmer demeanor would make him the sunshine one and Alabaster with his John Wick revenge plot would be the grumpy one).

They also have a lot in common but not so much that they start looking like mirrors. They are both clearly passionate about their cause, both of them are willing to kill and die for what they believe is right. They both openly express how strongly they feel to the conflict and they didn’t get so far in the army by being apathetic to what everyone around them is fighting for. Alabaster was chosen to lead the demigods into battle and Ethan is definitely a person of note in the army from the things we’ve seen him do (meaning they had a very high chance of meeting during their time in the army). However, Alabaster and Ethan view the army in very different ways. Al clearly sees the army as a heroic force from his “hero’s never die, right?” line while Ethan isn’t so black and white with his world view which we know from his “there is no wrong side” line. This means that they are similar enough to have common interests that they can bond over while still being separate people that can act on their own wishes, desires or simple personalities. (because sometimes it’s nice when characters are characters instead of just existing to serve a ship)

They understand each other. As they were both high ranking members of the titan army with similar goals they will have had similar experiences and therefore know things about each other that most people just can’t; as in, they don’t have the experience necessary to understand them like they understand each other. This is very appealing from an observers perspective because a lot of the time people don’t want grand declarations of love and massive bouquets, they just want someone to know them intimately enough to be truly in love.

They also have a lot of story potential both before and after Ethan’s death. Especially if you consider the fact that Al could have saved Ethan or brought him back as a mistform. People like drama and intentionally or not seek out dramatic things. Ethan and Al’s storys are dramatic enough on their own but when you put them together and then imagine all the things they could have done or could do!!! The spice! The flavour! The DRAMA!!! and the intrigue. They are both very interesting characters that can pique one’s curiosity easily. When people are curious about characters they look more into them, think about them more and in some cases this leads to shipping.

Another reason is simple vibes. Sometimes you just look at some characters and go “yeah bro those guys vibe together” and that’s that. Your ship has been chosen by the Vibes ain’t nothing you can do about it.

These aren't the only reasons of course but these are the only ones coming to my mind; if you have others please tell me. Now that we’ve got a couple of reasonings of why they’re shipped it’s time to look at their canon interactions. Since there are none you may expect me to skip this part entirely but you underestimate my devotion to both my favourite (platonic and romantic) ship and ✨obsessing over throwaway lines that only exist to give the readers a clearer image of a scene in their head rather than any plot important reasons✨. That’s right fellas it’s over analysis time (as the old saying goes, “if i cannot find homoerotic subtext, I will create it”) !!!

Before we begin, fear not avid lovers of sticking to things explicitly mentioned in the books, my argument is not “On page 228 of my copy of battle of the labyrinth, Ethan is first mentioned by a demigod holding a torch. Alabasters mother is the goddess Hecate and one of Hecate’s symbols is the torch therefore Alabaster is the person who found Ethan and thus the first times both are mentioned is in conjunction with each other which means boyfriends”, although I will admit my mind did have fun spiraling down to that little tidbit.

We know from the son of magic that Alabaster was able to use his magic to protect himself from the Princess Andromeda exploding but we are never given an explanation on how Ethan survived. I have mentioned this theory before and I’m going to say again the idea that Alabaster used the same magic to save Ethan that he used on himself. Alabaster doesn’t mention Ethan when he tells Claymore how he survived but remember he is still traumatized and it is anything but rare for trauma victims to seriously suppress their trauma (for example: almost watching a close companion being blown up right in front you and knowing that you are the only thing standing between them and breaking their toe on the big bad bucket) Of course there are reasons this might not work such as Ethan leaving the main deck to go to the engine room before the ship blows and Alabaster, being a high commanding officer, was likely on the deck when she blew however, Alabaster could have easily given Ethan some kind of magical protection before hand as they were warned of the anti Andromeda plot and will have prepared for any possible outcome.

Another deadly event that Ethan miraculously survived is the bridge incident. Realistically, do you genuinely believe that an unconscious, minorly wounded kid is going to be able to drag his unconscious body through a massive crowd of tightly packed teenagers, to the other side of a very large bridge and get far enough away from that bridge to be safe from it completely collapsing all by himself ??? We already know Alabaster is powerful enough to survive an explosion of greek fire so a collapsing bridge should be nothing to him, even if he is lugging around his friends limp almost-corpse. Also, if you like the trope of character A lovingly teasing character B then there’s nothing to say Alabaster wasn’t the “nice knowing ya” guy and, If you prefer it when character A ruthlessly defends character B from silly jabs then there’s also nothing to say Alabaster didn’t stomp on the guys foot the second Ethan left.

Another thing, ya know how Al has a bit of a revenge thing that he might need to tone down ever so slightly? Who better to help with that than a kid whose mum is the goddess of that kind of thing?! And yes, I know Ethan was already dead at that point but also, I don’t care; it can sort itself out. Anyway, I feel like with Nemesis kids it’s less of a “constantly seeking revenge for everything” and more of a “having a deeper understanding of revenge and therefore more able to regulate who does or doesn’t need some vengeance in their life”. It would have been interesting if Ethan survived and sorta coached Al on his feelings and how to deal with them in the least destructive way possible.

Also, as I mentioned before they are both high ranking individuals in the titan army. Al is chosen to lead the demigod forces into battle and Ethan seems to get called on by Kronos for a lot of specific tasks i.e. the sword of Hades, capturing Beckendorf, guarding Prometheus and being with Kronos during what he thought would be his final victory. From this we can assume that they probably worked pretty close together as the only high ranking demigods aside from Luke that we know of. All other important people in the army are titans, monsters or gods. As the only two demigods with such importance they probably gravitated towards each other and bonded over their workloads, goals or other things that people talk about before developing more intimate feelings (I assume but anyone who knows how relationships work please correct me if I’m wrong)

Also, a couple of things I noticed is what drives them is, at surface level, the same thing. They both want the Olympians to back up a bit and allow for the minor deity’s to receive some of the respect that has been with held from them for centuries. However, Al is more deeply motivated by his emotions while Ethan is not so much. Al expresses anger at the gods and disdain, he almost immediately latches on to the closest father figure he can get and gets notably excited when it appears he’s about to win and distraught when he thinks he’s lost. Ethan is motivated less by hatred for the gods but by a less emotionally draining thought of the minor gods deserve respect. He never gets emotionally invested in tasks, even life or death ones, unless attacked with something personal (he was generally apathetic during the parley until Percy started insulting him and his mother).

This could be due to Al being allowed to openly express emotion while Ethan has been taught to suppress it. What evidence do I have for this? Their mothers. To Nemesis, Ethan is a tool, a means to an end, a “thing” to use so she can get the desired outcome. To her, taking his eye and telling him to join the army was little different from drilling a hole in a board. She took a part of his body as payment so she clearly doesn’t see him as or care that he is his own person with thoughts, feelings and desires of his own. Hecate on the other hand actively acknowledges that her son has his on interests ideas and she wants to see him happy which is a complete U turn from Nemesis. We know that Al ans Hecate have regular enough conversations through dreams but we don’t know if Ethan ever met Nemesis after the eye thing. So we know that Al has contact with a mother that not only supports him but actively uses her powers to improve his life (see Claymore) and Ethan saw his mother once, was presumably traumatized and never saw her again. Big yikes. (Also the reason that Hecate stopped resisting the Olympians was because they threatened her with Al’s life. If Nemesis was the one who chose to resist and Ethan was still alive would she have stopped to keep him alive? I doubt it)

But yeah that’s pretty much all possible character interactions they could have had, the rest is up to our dear old friend, imagination. have fun kids. Also pretty much everything here can be read as platonic sooo.

#pjo #percy jackson #ethan nakamura #alabaster torrington #alabaster c torrington #the way i almost misspelled platonic as paltonic #which is arguably better #also why does Rock Boy have such a long ass name i'm tired of typing it #also #hi Chrys how's the content starvation going :)#tw: trauma #this has been in my drafts for months i'm so paranoid about this

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tiramisiyu · 4 years

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【未定事件簿】 Tears of Themis: A Love Poem to Skadi - Zuo Ran Encounters

Translation Masterlist | Themis Event Masterlist

Encounters: Xia Yan | Zuo Ran | Mo Yi | Lu Jinghe

See under cut!

Mini-Story – Journey in Mutual Understanding

Part 1 – Sudden Change

Sajya Fjord

Zuo Ran: …

MC: Lawyer Zuo? Why are you here? Didn’t you go to discuss the collaboration case?

Zuo Ran: Oh… it’s nothing…

MC: …

MC: Lawyer Zuo, did something… happen with the case?

Zuo Ran: As expected, I couldn’t hide it from you… a bit of an accident did occur. But you don’t need to worry – it’s not something very serious.

MC: Really? But your expression looks really bad… How about I accompany you…

Zuo Ran: Don’t worry, there really isn’t anything – trust me.

Zuo Ran stooped slightly and tapped my head.

Zuo Ran: Give me a little more time. I will deal with it all very quickly.

MC: Okay… But if there’s anywhere that I can help, you must tell me.

Zuo Ran: If you are truly this eager to help… then stay by my side a moment longer.

Part 2 – Accepting the Difference

Zuo Ran: It’s you? What a coincidence – we meet again.

MC: Lawyer Zuo, you’re here too? Right, how is the case from before? Do you need me to…

Zuo Ran: Calm down first, don’t worry. I’ve already found the places where there are problems in the case. It will all be fine very soon.

MC: That’s great… Lawyer Zuo, exactly what problem appeared?

Zuo Ran: That contract that was submitted to the collaboration partner before had one activity in the content’s details that ran against this place’s manners and customs. Because this content was too “detailed”, the recipient before might not have noticed it.

MC: So that’s how it was… Only a detail-oriented person like Lawyer Zuo would be able to notice such a tiny problem in these kinds of minor details so quickly. As your partner, I also need to learn this kind of ability and attitude.

Zuo Ran: Alright, since you’re on vacation to relax, then don’t think about work matters for now. It’s my fault for chatting about the case with you this whole time. I also hope that when we’re together, the things we discuss aren’t just work.

Part 3 – Thank-You Gift

MC: Lawyer Zuo, was that file that was transmitted to you earlier of use?

Zuo Ran: Mhmm, thank you for your trouble.

MC: It’s no big deal. After all, this case was quite urgent, so I’m very happy to be able to help. Then, Lawyer Zuo, after this case…

Zuo Ran: There are still some details that need to be confirmed but there are no problems in general.

MC: That’s good. After this case ends, you can also rest well.

Zuo Ran: About this… how much longer will you be staying on Skadi Island?

MC: Still a few more days… what’s the matter?

Zuo Ran: That’s good. I want to properly thank you after the case ends. Don’t rush to refuse yet, I… am also doing this out of selfishness. As for what it is… you’ll know when time comes.

Part 4 – Leisurely Times

MC: Lawyer Zuo, has the case ended?

Zuo Ran: Mm, it’s all finished.

MC: That’s great! Then do you have any plans after, Lawyer Zuo? Are you planning to have fun somewhere or to check someplace out? Skadi Island’s sceneries are very beautiful.

Zuo Ran: Then do you have any plans?

MC: Me? Aside from the stuff I agreed to Yao Yu about, I don’t have any plans…

Zuo Ran: If so, after official business is finished, can I take up your time? I said before that if you had time, we could travel around together. Now might be a good opportunity.

Zuo Ran Chance Encounters

Happy Memories

Dark Night Beach

MC: Lawyer Zuo? Did something happen? Why are you staring at your phone with that expression?

Zuo Ran: It’s nothing, I’m just… looking at the weather forecast.

MC: Weather forecast?

Zuo Ran: Mm, I wanted to confirm if it would snow.

MC: Are you very concerned about whether it’ll snow?

Zuo Ran: I saw before on the geographical magazine that the Dark Night Beach with snowfall was judged as the third-placer on the list of “Scenes that are the best for making people feel happy”. It’s hard enough to come to Skadi Island for once. If it’s possible, I also want you to see this scene. But very regretfully, we are not the only ones on this beach… I’ve checked the nearby villages with beaches, but the forecasted snowfall from a few days ago… probably won’t appear.

MC: Is that so… though it’s somewhat regretful, thank you for considering these things for me, Lawyer Zuo. I already feel very happy like this, regardless if it has snowed or not.

Zuo Ran: Then… how about we walk together on this beach? Though I have no way of letting you see a scene that will make you happy… we can create memories that are only ours together.

Let’s Take a Photo

Dark Night Beach

Zuo Ran: MC? We meet again.

MC: It’s Lawyer Zuo… are you also strolling here?

Zuo Ran: Just came out to walk around and relax my mood.

MC: Same here – I feel like I just need to hear the sounds of the sea to forget all my troubles.

Zuo Ran: …

Zuo Ran: Right… do you want to take photos?

MC: Why did you ask this all of a sudden?

Zuo Ran: It’s nothing, I just felt that the seaside scenery right now is very beautiful, so I wanted to take a few photos for you.

MC: Then Lawyer Zuo, how about you straight up take pictures of these sceneries instead. This way, you’ll be able to completely save the sceneries right here and now.

Zuo Ran: Oh you… what’s important isn’t these sceneries… These sceneries will only be meaningful when recorded with you.

Trip Invitation

Sati Falls

MC: I only noticed now that there are a lot of sea birds here, at Sati Falls… I very rarely see these phenomena at other waterfalls. Sure enough, Skadi Island is very special!

Zuo Ran: Do you like this place a lot?

MC: Mm, not only is the scenery here very beautiful, but stuff like their culture and customs are also very particular.

Zuo Ran: Then how about we come here again next holiday? When time comes, it’ll just be you and me, and together, we’ll… walk through every corner of this island and spend some time that only belongs to us, alright?

Interesting Matters

City of Elves

Zuo Ran: It’s you? Uh, what are you… doing there?

MC: It’s Lawyer Zuo… I’m examining an old-fashioned recorder that I found by chance. It’s this one in front of me.

Zuo Ran: This recorder… looks very worn. It probably was left here for a long time.

MC: Yeah… what a pity. It’s very rare to see these kinds of recorders these days. If it were well-preserved… in a few years, it would be a very precious treasure.

Zuo Ran: Are you very interested in these old items?

MC: It’s not than I’m interested in them, I just sometimes like to examine and see. You can see the changes of time and generations from these old items.

Zuo Ran: …

MC: What’s the matter? Is it that… the things I’m talking about are too boring… people have said this before…

Zuo Ran: You’ve misunderstood. I don’t feel like this matter is boring – instead, I feel that I… seem to have an insufficient understanding of you. That… if you don’t mind, can you tell me more about things like your hobbies? It’s a rare opportunity, so let me get a better understanding of you.

Mysterious Wreckage

Sati Falls

MC: I never would’ve thought that there really would be such a large plane wreckage here…

Zuo Ran: Skadi Island has many volcanoes. Once it erupts, it’s very easy for it to result in plane accidents. Thus, there’s the wreckage of a plane crash here – it’s not anything strange.

MC: Although it looks like it’s been a long time since this crash. Its whole body is also filled with a strange atmosphere. What could be inside?

Zuo Ran: Do… you want to go in and see?

MC: Eh?! Lawyer Zuo, please don’t misunderstand. I just casually said it – there’s no other big meaning. This wreckage looks pretty old – considering safety, we shouldn’t go inside…

Zuo Ran: It’s no problem. If we just look near the entrance of the plane cabin, there shouldn’t be any major problems. Plus… I’m here. I’ll protect you.

Believable Matters

City of Elves

MC: The City of Elves really does have a lot of folklore… Though all the people on Skadi Island believe in these things a lot, it seems like the people here take it especially seriously.

Zuo Ran: It’s likely because this is a city where “miracles” happen a lot. In the history in this city, many miraculous phenomena have occurred here that cannot be explained by modern science. The people attribute these things to “elves” and supernatural phenomena, and they bear deep trust without a shred of doubt to these… Perhaps they also hold the hope that “miracles” will befall them.

MC: That can be considered as a very honest way of thinking. Right, Lawyer Zuo, do you believe these things? Things like “elves” and “miraculous powers”.

Zuo Ran: In the past, I didn’t believe in these. But now, I seem to be willing to believe in these.

MC: Why?

Zuo Ran: Because… a miracle has already happened before my eyes.

Movie Recommendations

Sajya Fjord

MC: Lawyer Zuo, thank you for explaining so many things about Sajya Fjord to me.

Zuo Ran: It’s nothing – as easy as lifting my hand.

MC: Lawyer Zuo, why are you so familiar with this place?

Zuo Ran: I had a road trip movie that I liked very much before. This was the shooting location. So back then, I went out of my way to find out about it.

MC: Lawyer Zuo, you actually like to see road trip movies? I thought you only watched sci-fi or literature and art movies.

Zuo Ran: Though I prefer these two movie genres, but this doesn’t mean I only watch these genres. As long as it is an excellent work, I will still watch and research it.

MC: Then, Lawyer Zuo, could you recommend some good movies to me? I just happen to be short on shows recently.

Zuo Ran: Sure.

Unachievable Matters

Sajya Fjord

MC: Lawyer Zuo, you’re amazing – you were actually able to catch such a large brown trout! The old man who just invited us to go fishing has also was praising you more.

Zuo Ran: It’s nothing – I just got lucky.

MC: No no no, luck is a part of it, and raw ability is also a part of it. You don’t need to be modest. In my eyes, you’re completely all-capable.

Zuo Ran: I am not all-capable – at least, there is one thing that I have not been able to achieve what I desired.

MC: ???

Zuo Ran: It’s nothing. You… will know in the future.

Daily Coffee

Vikja Capital

MC: This coffee shop’s “Vikja Capital” special edition coffee flavour really is unforgettable… and I don’t know if I’kk have a chance to drink this in the future…

Zuo Ran: Do you like this flavour a lot?

MC: Mhmm. Plus, I don’t know if it’s my misconception, but I keep feeling like this coffee’s invigorating effects are very prominent…

Zuo Ran: I’ve bought some extra of this coffee, and I’m preparing to bring it back to the law firm. If you want to drink it… you can come find me. I can prepare it every day for you to drink.

Dessert Education

Vikja Capital

MC: (It’s too difficult. This open-air dessert shop’s free course on creating desserts is too hard… It feels like my hands are already no longer mine…)

Zuo Ran: Are you alright?

MC: I’m fine. Lawyer Zuo, you can focus on yours, no need to concern yourself with me.

Zuo Ran: …

Zuo Ran: Oh you… if you feel that it’s hard, you can directly tell me. We can think of methods together. I’m right beside you – rely on me a little more.

#tears of themis #tears of themis translations #weiding shijian bu #zuo ran #未定事件簿 #左然 #tot translation #im sorry lawyer zuo but xia yan is the only one in my heart

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diavolodigitale · 3 years

Text

The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Andromeda Galaxy - pt.2 Kadara

I must admit, editing this 2 years after writing is a real pain in the you-know-what. It almost doesn’t seem worth saving anymore, but I am determined to finish this. The last 2 chapters are kind of fun after all.

Genres: comedy, romance (vaguely), friendship maybe, nothing serious, really.

Pairing: m!Ryder/Evfra

Characters: Ryder, Evfra, Reyes

Rating: PG

Size: around 6 pages

Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3 - Pt.4 ----- All chapters in PDF

Kadara port had everything a weary traveller could ever wish for: water for when you were thirsty, food for when you were hungry, protection for when you were in fear for your life, and for when you were thoughtless - a knife to stab you in the back. From time to time even James needed some of its special offers, but not as radical as what most of the mercs coming here were looking for. The job of the Pathfinder was dangerous and, sadly, unrewarding, so he developed a habit of coming to the port to give some rest to his fagged body and worn-out mind. People there openly disliked him which gave him the perfect opportunity to behave however he wanted without thinking much about the role forced onto him.

Ryder enjoyed observing dozens of different people visiting the port every day. Sometimes he would even become the witness of some utterly disgusting and dishonest affairs which had, to put it mildly, not the best outcome for one of the sides of the conflict. Nevertheless, he learnt his lesson about not trying to help every single person on Kadara very well literally on the day of his first visit. As such, those situations turned into mere inconveniences he had to steer clear of while staying there. Helping his race survive was at the moment more important than dealing with exiles and the problems they caused. Priorities first.

What he liked even more than observing people, was talking to his crew members in a kind of informal atmosphere. No doubt, the air that prevailed on the Tempest was mostly friendly and peaceful, but work is work no matter what they say. Here, on Kadara, on the other hand, every one of them would find something more enjoyable to occupy themselves with in their free time so the general mood shifted from busy to more casual. Whatever they were doing – drinking in the bar, trying to persuade the merchant to give a discount, or checking the incoming supplies for the ship – it was still interesting for him to see them act in situ.

Having no plans in particular for the evening, Ryder was strolling in the direction of the local bar when he noticed a familiar silhouette. A renowned angaran commando stood near a bunch of crates piled up in a secluded alley. Quite far from any vendor or stall, as Ryder noticed. It was already enough to get him interested.

He cautiously approached Evfra from behind just to startle him with a loud “greeting” of his.

“Is it really you who I see here? Or is it just a black-market VI? I would really be astonished if technologies went so far,” he yelled cheerfully.

“Is it a rhetorical question?” Evfra turned his head and gave Ryder a tired spiritless look.

“I hope something happened,” responded Ryder and pouted, “‘cause if you’re so dull only because I’m here, I will be deeply offended.”

“Fascinating.”

Evfra watched a few strangers pass by the alley they were in and clicked his tongue disappointedly. Clear as day, he was looking for something or someone.

“So, what is the leader of the angaran Resistance doing here all alone? Such a famous figure should be an object of desire for local bounty hunters,” said Ryder. His curiosity always got the best of him.

“Same goes to you, Pathfinder.”

“I guess, more people want me to actually do something to improve the quality of life in the galaxy than just to die in the slums. And you haven’t answered my question,” noted Ryder, unsatisfied with the reply he got.

“It may be hard to believe but lots of people here have heard stories about me. Despite that, hardly anybody knows what I really look like. It is very useful when you hold such a position. Of course,”—Evfra sighed before continuing—“if you do not have a Pathfinder nearby, who will yell that it is indeed you and not somebody else.”

“Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” Ryder propped up one of the nearby crates and pretended to zip up his mouth.

“I would really like to see that.” Evfra sighed yet again.

“That’s just an idiom that–”

“I know. Jaal told me about this strange phenomenon of yours. Seems like everything about humans is as confusing as it is annoying.”

“It won’t be so confusing when you get to know us better.”

“If I get to know you.”

“Believe me, I will do everything for this alliance to work out,” declared Ryder. He sounded completely confident in what he was saying. “I am always ready to help and even make some necessary sacrifices for the sake of our union.”

“Spare me the details, please.”

Evfra looked around one more time. His search wasn’t successful which was obvious from a disgruntled look on his face. Ryder noticed that, and his interest towards the goal of Evfra’s pursuit on Kadara grew even more.

“So, what could be so important that it managed to make you come here personally?”

“Resistance’s matters.”

“That I have already figured out,”—Ryder raised his eyebrow and crossed his arms—“I mean, why you? As far as I know, you have countless field agents that could take up this business on your behalf.”

Understanding the Pathfinder wouldn’t be shaken off so easily, Evfra decided to give up without even starting an argument. He wanted this conversation to end as soon as possible.

“I am looking for my informant. He hasn’t contacted me for a few days, although I’ve been waiting. And I loathe waiting,” he responded.

“And for that you spared the time to come personally? I’m impressed.”

“Do you trust everybody on your team, Ryder? Do you trust everybody on the Nexus?” asked Evfra, staring at Ryder intently. There was no point in continuing this conversation, but he just couldn’t hold himself back.

“That’s the question not to be answered in front of the people I work with,” chuckled Ryder.

“Then you know why I’m here. If you want to do something, do it yourself. In this case, you will have no one to blame if something goes wrong or the desired result is not achieved.”

“I can understand that.” The Pathfinder nodded slightly and went on, "I think, you’re a real professional, you know?”

Evfra gave Ryder a gloomy glance and left the question unanswered. He was not entertained by this talk the way Ryder was. He probably never had been.

“Is it Reyes you’re looking for?” asked Ryder bluntly.

“Are you going to expose identities of all people working for the Resistance?”

Evfra did not even sound mad anymore. Just tired.

“If nobody here knows who you are, then there’s no harm in mentioning that you’re looking for him. Lots of people on Kadara work with him as well, so saying his name out loud isn’t really that much of a deal.”

“Your thoughtlessness is going to get you killed some day.”

“Not while you’re around to take care of my safety.”

No reaction followed, so all Ryder could do after such a remark was stand silently and awkwardly scratch his neck. There was still nothing special he wanted to do in the port besides just sticking around for some time, so he figured he’d stay here and see where the situation would get him, but the atmosphere was killing him.

“Reyes seems to like you,” said Evfra after a few minutes of silence.

“He does?”

“Yes, even though I cannot see why.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” said Ryder and forced a little smile that looked sincere enough. He knew that arguing with Evfra would never lead him anywhere. “So, do you mean he likes me as a person or…?”

“I do not possess such knowledge. We don’t discuss personal matters.”

“Oh, I see. Then how do you know he likes me?”

Evfra exhaled loudly and sat down on one of the crates, perhaps, tired of standing on the same place for what could be hours.

“He speaks highly of you. It seems that he admires your methods and purposes, although it is hard to tell, since you, humans, are so bad at expressing your true feelings.”

“Guess we have something to learn from your kind.”

“You have a lot to learn from us,” corrected him Evfra. “First of all, how to read the attitude and recognize when it is better to stop the communication.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, but don’t promise anything.”

Ryder considered something for a few moments before deciding to be bold till the end and taking a seat near Evfra. There was high chance the angara would stand up, not wanting to be near him after the last incident, but Ryder really hoped he would just leave it be.

Evfra looked at the Pathfinder with dissatisfaction, but said nothing.

“How’s your arm?” asked Ryder, relieved by his reaction.

“Healed.”

“Good to hear that.”

“Do you want to ask me how my head is?”

“As good as mine, I’m sure,” answered James, but still threw a quick glance at Evfra’s forehead to make sure he was fine.

“It was foolish of you to perform such an act. My bones could have been much stronger than yours, and then your people would have lost another Pathfinder,” muttered Evfra between his teeth.

Evfra’s words made something about Ryder change. For a few moments, he wasn’t so upbeat anymore – just an ordinary exhausted and disappointed in life individual on Kadara.

Evfra mused over the idea of saying he was sorry, but the situation seemed so weird to him, that he decided not to.

A familiar voice of someone speaking with a charming accent rang out not far from Evfra and Ryder’s location.

“Well, isn’t that the great Evfra himself?”

“Reyes!”—Evfra stood up abruptly and took a few steps towards the tan-skinned man—“I’ve been waiting to hear from you for days and you didn’t send me a word. Don’t make me come here once again or else I may find someone more responsible to take your place.”

Ryder tried to recall when he last saw him this angry but failed.

“Did you come all the way just to see me?”—Reyes made an ironic bow—“I am pleased and honored. If I may ask, did Pathfinder Ryder also come here looking for me?”

“Not this time, Reyes, but it is good to see you alive and well,” said Ryder and nodded with a hint of a polite smile on his face.

“What a shame. I was already intrigued by the possibilities of our prospective cooperation.”

“Pathfinder Ryder will be the only one available to you for cooperation if you do not explain yourself right now,” said Evfra almost growling.

He was visibly unhappy with how the conversations developed. Ryder got the feeling he’d better return back to the Tempest and leave those two to discuss their business in privacy. He stood up, displaying his intention to withdraw from this soon-to-be battlefield.

“I see you need some time to catch up. I also have some business to take care of while I’m in the port, so I’ll probably get going.”

“Leaving already?” A slight disappointment could be heard in Reyes’ voice as he spoke. “I thought maybe we could grab a drink or two after Evfra and I… resolve our issue.”

“Enough!” shouted Evfra, raising his voice like he rarely did. His chest was heaving with suppressed rage. Ryder thought he was most likely really angry with Reyes’ careless and provoking manner. Or anything else. From James’ experience, it really didn’t take Evfra long to find a reason to be angry about.

“Maybe next time. It was nice seeing you, Evfra. And you, Reyes, as well,” he declined, not wanting to provoke the angaran commando any further.

“Likewise, Pathfinder. I sincerely hope to see you here again in the nearest future,” responded Reyes and gave him a wink.

Ryder lightly nodded and gave another polite smile. Evfra only sniffed and abruptly turned away, facing the other direction when Ryder was leaving. Once more, not bidding farewell properly.

#Mass Effect #Mass Effect Andromeda #Andromeda #Fiction #Fanfiction #Evfra #m!Ryder #Ryder/Evfra #Ryder x Evfra #Reyes Vidal #HGTAG

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higuchimon · 4 years

Text

[fanfic] Tea Time

He’d been told a vampire dwelled here. Edo eyed the place distrustfully. It didn’t look like any lair he’d seen before. Most of the time what he saw were places that were run-down, old, and as much death-traps as they were places for anything vaguely human might want to spend their time.

He’d never noticed that vampires had much of an interest in interior decorating. Yet from what he could see, this place had been clearly kept up.

This isn’t right. What he should do was go back to base and bring in a few more of the others. This wasn’t a mission that he should do alone. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’d found himself dealing with an entire nest of vampires instead of just the one he thought would be here.

He shook his head. He’d dealt with nests before. He checked to make sure he had enough holy water – Juudai told him it was holy water and while Juudai could be flaky as hell, he usually knew when something had been blessed – and that there were enough stakes to deal with a nest. A nest consisted of anywhere from three to thirty vampires. Beyond that and even he would go looking for a little assistance. Probably someone with a few more muscles, like Kenzan.

Certain of his tools, he carefully prowled forward, keeping an eye out for any signs that the area had been booby-trapped. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Frankly, that worried him more than if he’d seen danger. If he’d seen traps, at least that was what he would have expected. But no matter how he circled the mansion, all he saw was a single door and several windows. None of them were broken and all of them had glass in them.

They’re not even blackout curtains.

His skin crawled. Something wasn’t right about all of this. If this was where a vampire nested, then he had to clean it out. Leaving even one vampire could mean that there would be more. He’d seen what happened when vampires got out of hand.

A tiny part of him forever mourned his first partner. He would never forget having seen Ryou, surrounded by starving vampires, with only one stake in his hand, urging Edo to get out of there. He’d fled – he had nothing else he could do at the time. It was just the two of them.

He wanted to believe Ryou died there. The alternatives weren’t ones he wanted to think about.

He brought his attention back to where he stood now, in front of the door. He heaved in a breath, checked the heft of his stake, and moved closer to it. He expected the door to be locked – it wasn’t. Granted, that wasn’t much of a surprise. This wasn’t a neighborhood prone to burglars and if it had been, they would likely only strike at a vampire’s lair once, with limited odds of emerging on their feet.

On the other side of the door there stretched a corridor, with several doorways opening off from it. All of them were closed except one at the far end. Of course. The hallway was lit like any other hallway, with normal electric lights.

Do vampires pay the electric bill? He’d never encountered this before. Usually lairs were lit with candles or lanterns. He’d not heard anything about someone leaching off of the power grid here. But he hadn’t checked, either.

He started to wonder how much he’d failed to check on that he should have. Then with a firm shake of his head he moved forward. It wouldn’t matter once he found the vampire – or vampires – and took them down.

He headed for the one open door, making certain not to move too quickly or let a single footfall sound. When he reached the door, he ducked as low as he could and peered inside. Even vampires didn’t stare downwards that often.

Never before had he seen a room like this in a vampire’s lair. It wasn’t the first time he’d thought that since seeing this place but this was a properly decorated and organized sitting room. A fire crackled in the fireplace. There were two chairs pulled up near it, one turned as if inviting him to sit in it. In between the chairs there rested a table, and on that table someone had set a cup of tea.

Edo mentally swallowed at that. He never ate or drank for at least an hour before he went out on a hunt and even from here he could tell that it was his favorite flavor of tea. How had whoever set this up known?

“Because there isn’t much I don’t know about you, Edo Phoenix. Please, come in and sit down. Your tea is getting cold.”

Before the first word finished begin spoken, Edo leaped back, raising his stake and looking for whoever spoke. Then he spied movement and from the other chair there rose a tall figure.

Edo wasn’t one to be distracted by an attractive face or form. More than one such person had attempted to distract him with their looks. When they were vampires, he dusted them and went on about his life. When they were human, he ignored them and went on about his life. But now he stared at the one who stood there and breathed in quickly.

Whoever this was, they stood taller than he did. Their hair was a rich blue black and fell down in a shimmering wave to his knees. The eyes were a glimmering shade of amethyst that pierced into Edo’s heart and made him wonder about everything he’d ever known in his life. But perhaps worst of all – the stranger smiled. And he had fangs.

“You’re a vampire,” Edo said, straining to keep his attention on what was important. He needed to plunge his stake into this person and yet he couldn’t move.

“I am. I am also Saiou Takuma. It is a pleasure to meet you in the flesh at last.” Saiou gestured to the chair. “Please join me. I made this tea for you.”

Edo took two steps forward before he stopped himself. “What? Why would you do that?” This made no sense at all and every instinct he owned told him to do the deed and get out of there. But he didn’t.

“Because you’re thirsty. Because we need to talk and it’s better if we do that while you’re not thirsty.” Again he gestured to the chair. Edo did his best not to look into those eyes; a vampire had to meet your eyes in order to control your mind. But he found himself going over to the chair regardless.

“What do you mean we need to talk?” He asked as he settled down in there. The chair was very comfortable. Saiou returned to his own chair and folded his hands over one another.

“You are a vampire hunter. You seek to avenge the death of your father.” He stared into the flames. Edo wondered what he was thinking. “I can help you with that.”

Now Edo suspected something. He had all along; this just made it worse. “Why would you? Do you know who did it?”

“Yes, I do. But you won’t believe me and you won't like it. So I will not tell you – yet. Not until you know that I can be trusted and that I would not name this person unless they were the one that you seek.”

Edo eyed his new acquaintance suspiciously. “What are you talking about?” He wasn’t at all sure of if he could trust someone who called him by name when he’d never mentioned his name. Granted, he’d been killing vampires for three years now. A few of them had escaped – they probably told stories about him.

“There are vampires who can be trusted and those who can't. I can guide you to those who consider humans nothing but cattle and ensure that you do not harm those who would prefer to feed only off of those who are willing.” A bit of a smile flickered across his lips. “I am of the latter. In seven hundred years I have fed only on those who willingly offer themselves to me. There are not as many of those as there could be.”

Edo frowned. “As many people to offer or as many vampires who do that?”

“Both. But we can discuss that in detail later. You came to kill vampires. I can take you to a nest of vampires that stalk and kill humans – or worse, sometimes turn them to increase their ranks.”

Edo shook his head. “Why don’t you kill them if you know where they are?” He knew what vampires were capable of. Super strength, super speed, a variety of powers, all that would make killing others child’s play. He’d never seen vampire kill vampire, though.

“Because a vampire cannot kill another vampire. Only humans can do that. Or sometimes others – but you are human. And you want to kill them.” Saiou said simply. Edo stared at him. Had he gone to sleep without even being aware of it? All of this seemed a little surreal to him.

Then he slowly picked up the cup, sniffed at it, and took a sip. It was exactly what he’d thought it would be. Whatever else Saiou was, he could make an amazing cup of tea.

“Tell me more,” he said at last. If he tried to kill Saiou now, he’d lose out on important information. He could do it another time – when he’d killed all the vampires Saiou knew about.

And maybe after he’d had a few more cups of tea.

The End

Notes: Anyone actually believe that Ryou is perma-dead? As opposed to undead?

#higuchimon writes #ygo gx #gxmonth2020 #edo phoenix #saiou takuma #au: vampires

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arctimon · 4 years

Note

I would just like to add my two-cents to this discussion if I may. As a person who belongs to two cultures, I'd like to point out the cultural nuances when it comes to age-appropriacy. I'm aware this is an American-made show, but authors themselves, despite writing in English, may not subscribe to the same group of beliefs. Ages of consent differ wildly across different countries. Some cultures are a bit more loose with their distinctions between "kid" and "teenager," though I never- (TBC)

...see this addressed. I'm not condoning anything under-age personally, I just wanted to put this idea out there. What may seem inappropriate to one group, may actually be the norm of another. I personally quite enjoy your stories and how they take on a more-realistic aspect of coming-of-age sans the constraints of the show's canon and "for kids" parameters. And I'm a stringent believer of internet autonomy- if you feel uncomfortable, you don't have to read it. No one should pressure... an author to change their artistic vision. A lot of art is problematic, my goodness. It's also important for folks to keep in mind--in the case of fanfic-- that it is simply that- fiction. Fiction comes with a freedom of expression. A freedom informed by the cultural norms of the author. I appreciate and admire how mindful you've been with your responses on this subject, and I hope your work and your art will not be hindered by this upset.

1.) The age of consent in the state of California is 18. There are also no “Romeo-and-Juliet” laws in California. This means that two minors between the ages of 14 and 17 cannot have sexual relations with each other without it being considered illegal. You know how I know this? Because I did the research. You bet your patootie that if I was going to get anywhere near that level, I was going to make sure to do the research first long before I got to that point. Yes, it is a fictitious California, but I’m not going to change the laws because “fiction”. And you are correct that consent varies wildly from place to place. The Philippines is 12 (yikes). Cameroon in Africa is 21. It just all depends on where you go. And cultures also vary differently as to what is acceptable and what is not. But we’re in California, so I am going to abide by them. 2.) I have a love-hate relationship with the “Don’t Like? Don’t Read.” mantra. I agree with the fact that anyone that’s just looking for stuff to get upset about and then find it is just asking for it. For example, I can go to Fanfiction.net right now, look up every single M-rated fanfic concerning Big Hero 6, and read every single one. I’m not going to because that’s not something I’m even remotely interested in at all. But there are people who do that and get upset that they’re reading M-rated stuff. Like...there was a warning and everything. Why are you upset? (In all seriousness, don’t do that. I took the hit so you don’t have to. There’s...some weird stuff on there.) This situation, where they’re reading something they enjoy (hopefully) and find a part that can be uncomfortable, is a bit different. It’s not maliciousness on anyone’s part. It’s just something that happens and no one is really at fault. And again, that’s where the ratings system is suppose to work. Sometimes, it doesn’t. And sometimes, ratings can be skewed a little bit. For example, I’m pretty sure any mention of blood is suppose to be an automatic M on most sites. I don’t rate it M because I don’t consider that an M-rated thing. I consider that a T. But that’s just me. 3.) I do think (and I’m being careful here when saying this) that sometimes, people treat fiction as fact. I’m not saying that in this case it was, but it does happen. My stories are fiction. They are not real. I can dress it up as much as I want and try to stay as canon-aligned as possible, but at the end of the day, my stories are not the show. You are not going to see a situation where Hiro and Karmi are sleeping in the same bed as each other in the show (like in Overnight).

I still get people who say that I should write for the show, and while it’s flattering, I cannot begin to tell you just how much of a bad idea that would be. Mark and Bob and Nick are not ringing my phone any time soon. And fiction does come with a freedom of expression...to a point. I cannot post whatever I want on FF.net, DevArt, AO3, or even here. The rules do tend to bend, but even the hardest metal eventually breaks. I wouldn’t be able to post Hiro/Karmi smut (not that I would want to, anyway) because that would immediately get taken down on two of those three platforms. AO3 is an archive where things are a little bit more lax; I know this because I have reported stories on AO3 without success. And they pretty much used the “freedom of expression” thing as the reason why it wasn’t taken down. So I get what you’re saying, but I think it’s a shared responsibility of both the author and reader to make sure that things stay calm. 4.) Which leads to this. I haven’t been upset by anything that has happened today. People often associated wordy diatribes with anger or unhappiness, but I can assure you that’s not true. There was a situation. It was taken care of. Some unnamed person wanted to continue causing a ruckus. That was also taken care of. People, understandably, saw what I had been posting and was curious about my mindset on things. I’m not going to fault people for that. As someone who is “well-known” in the fandom, I’ve come to expect that. And as long as people are willing to keep an open mind and ask things in a mature and polite way, I’m always happy to answer people’s questions.

I have never felt pressure by anyone to stop writing something, up to and including the Asks I’ve gotten today. I am going to continue to write and work on my stories as I see fit. There will be emotional things, like Hiro’s parents. There will be progress in relationships (not just in Hiro/Karmi). I’m not going to shy away from difficult topics. But perhaps I can take a leaf from the show’s book and try to balance a little bit more humor into it. Thank you for your question.

#big hero 6 #big hero 6 the series #hiro hamada #karmi #karmiro #big hero 6 season 3 #relationships #crossing the line #difficult topics #balance #fanfiction

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geezsims · 4 years

Photo

Doctor Amber Gonzalez — interview for @toxoplasmajuice’s Atkins’ MMBC!

1. Tell me a little about yourself. Y'know, name, pronouns, age, where you’re from, anything else you might say if I asked you, “Who are you?”

I’m Amber. Well, I should say Amber Gonzalez, or Dr. Gonzalez if you want to be formal. I’m hoping you won’t be for too long... [chuckles drily] It’s hardly the time for formalities, wouldn’t you agree? I feel similarly about pronouns, if you must know—a tedious necessity while we remain shackled by language as it is now. [another chuckle] TL;DR: you’re welcome to use whatever pronouns take your fancy, though I tend to default to ‘they/them’ for the sake of ease. I’m 21 years, three months, and sixteen days old.

As for who I am... I am an acolyte of science. Always pushing the boundaries of what can be accomplished through the power of the mind. [momentary pause] I’m not sure there’s much to know about me beyond that.

2. Before the world ended, did you have any long-term goals? Where would you picture yourself in the future if the future didn’t crumble in front of our eyes?

There were countless projects amongst which I was dividing my time. The memory’s a bit... blurry around the edges, but I’m pretty sure my primary focus at the time would have been cloning. Or was it robotics? [shakes head] No matter. Many of my resources have gone kaput in the aftermath, but that isn’t going to stop me from dedicating myself to other scientific endeavours. Even if I have to resort to... [shudders] anthropology.

3. Any talents or skills? What about hobbies?

My skills are mostly restricted to science and research, though I’ve been known to dabble in the occult when the mood takes me. Alchemy especially is a dear hobby of mine, and one that doesn’t require anywhere near the amount of power demanded by my large-scale experiments.

Mh... after giving it some thought, I should also add that I have another hobby. One that doesn’t slot quite as neatly into my pioneering lifestyle, but that may be of interest to Clyde. It may also shed some light as to why I’m here, ah... [coughs] Let’s just say that some of my bags coming here are weighed heavy with hurriedly salvaged romance novellas. For reasons I cannot rationally explain I simply can’t get enough of those formulaic love stories!

4. If you feel like sharing, what was your love life like before this? Totally fine if you don’t wanna talk about it.

[another cough] If you must know... apart from the aforementioned literature things have been pretty quiet on the romance front for me. I’ve just never found the time for anything more serious than the occasional fling with a spicy lab assistant.

5. Besides the sanctuary part, what made you sign up for this BC?

I, ah, would like to meet Clyde. Very much, in fact. But I won’t pretend that some safety and security to get back on track with my experimentation doesn’t hold a certain appeal. Given the circumstances, I’m sure most if not all the contestants are going to be bringing some sort of ulterior motive to the table.

6. Okay, okay, hot take: this question is fucking stupid. First of all, MMBCs have happened even with this question, so it’s not even protecting anybody. Second, if we really needed this information–or if the network did–there’s better ways to do background checks. You can just lie here. You can literally just lie.[*] Third, it’s just so vague. Sure, if you’ve got some degree of murder on your record, maybe that would be important, but–what, being caught with a gram of weed in the summer of ‘15 is supposed to tell me you might be a murderer? And, most importantly, it blatantly contributes to the stigma against felons. Non-violent criminals, people who’ve changed for the better, people who were falsely accused–we’re basically saying all of them might as well be murderers. And I’m not for that. But the program we’re doing this through is requiring that I ask, so, whatever: do you have a criminal record?

Not that I know of. I seem to remember some former test subjects, ah... holding a bit of a grudge, but I don’t recall any charges. As I’ve mentioned previously, my memory is not the best, but I doubt I would forget something as grave as that.

7. Anyway. Random fact about you?

Hmm... how about this: due to a past experiment, there is always a slight current of electricity about my person. My hair often crackles and stands on end depending on what sort of floor I’m standing on. Oh, and I’ve taken to wearing these gloves most of the time to avoid giving people nasty electric shocks when they come into contact with me.

8. Is there anything important I should know about you? Health-related stuff, ancient curses following you, that sort of thing?

Barring my spotty memory, my body and mind are pretty robust. There are some other side-effects from my experimentation which surface from time to time—glowing eyes, erratic sleep schedule, energy bursts followed by severe lethargy...—but nothing so serious as an ancient curse. Apart from my own hubris, which is scheduled to catch up with me any day now. [laughs] That was a joke.

9. Is there anything or anyone you had to leave behind to come here? (This one’s optional, too.)

Ah, no. No one. [drily] Just the proverbial smoking ruins of my life’s work and a dozen or so lab rats.

10. What’s the first thing you’re gonna do when things calm down and we can leave the BC house again?

It all depends on the state of the world then. I’m a highly adaptive person. If my abilities are required in the aftermath, I’ll provide as best I can, but I’d be equally happy to seal myself away hermetically at the first chance and simply get back to work. There is so much left to be discovered!

OOC questions:

1. May I draw your Sim? (No one’s ever said no to this, but it never hurts to ask, right?)

Of course!

2. Do you have any tips for writing your Sim that you feel the interview and/or your intro post don’t already give me?

She’s often sarcastic and prone to long tangents. And she alternates between quite formal speech and casual informal, bordering on the over-familiar when presented with strangers. Just quite chaotic in general. I can see her not getting along with everybody as she can be pretty wrapped up in her own shit at times, which can come off as self-absorbed, but she also won’t ever judge a book by its cover.

As for the clone thing—she isn’t one, as far as I’m concerned, but due to her excessive experimentation she sometimes worries she can’t prove to herself or others that she isn’t. It keeps her up at night sometimes.

3. I want to start decorating contestants’ rooms this time around. Do you have any pointers as to decorating your Sim’s room? General themes are fine, and if you have any specific objects you want me to put in your Sim’s room (EA content or CC), that’d be great.

Aw, that’s a cute idea! Really just any odd gadgets and doodads, maybe the robot stuff that came with Ambitions (I think? It’s been a while, lol!) rather than the overly fancy/modern stuff from ITF. I’m picturing kind of Spartan sleeping arrangements, metal flooring and/or walls, maybe those biohazard posters (no idea where they were from, sorry). Don’t worry if you can’t find any of those things, that’s just kind of the general vibe I’m imagining. Her favourite colours are bright orange, grey, teal-ish blue and neon green, if that’s useful at all :v

4. Will you generally be around for random questions I have regarding your Sim? I might need random bits of information from everyone from time to time… for reasons. :)

If not here, then on Twitter for sure!

#bc contestants #toxoplasmajuice #amber gonzalez #team amber #sims 3 #the sims 3 #ts3

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lihikainanea · 4 years

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Vibe of the Week 09/08

First of all, step aside Bill, because you’re not the most important Leo in my life.

A big, huge, resounding happy birthday to the King of my family--my old man. He’s the greatest dude I know. He can fix seriously anything, he has guided me my whole life, he’s a phenomenal story teller and he’s just....he’s the best guy I know. I have high standards in men because my dad has loved my mom so intensely for their entire marriage (44 years and counting), and he still does. He buys her flowers. He writes her songs. They have date nights every week.

August, and particularly the first 10 days in August, are so weird for me. I have so much history and it’s all in sequence--a past love, his birthday was August 7. Bill’s is the 9th. Pop’s is the 10th. There’s more but it’s just...man, that Leo energy. It exhausts me.

Last week we talked a bit about embracing the change that’s coming, starting to reap the harvest for our efforts. The universe gave us a bit of a break.

This week’s Oracle deck is the Shaman Wisdom Cards, and the Tarot is the Llewellyn Wizards Tarot deck (which like, look, I love these cards--but I cannot even express how much I HATE the design on the back. It is so fucking obnoxious. Why would you design something that bright for these cards? Ugh I hate it.)

The Oracle card this week is Agate:

The affirmation: Adapt to the situation and communicate your intentions

Words to meditate on: Courage, brave, recognition, abundance, growth, balance

This is quite a lovely card. It’s the striking of the match--something is being lit up here, and you’re about to be stimulated in a million different ways--love, relationships, creativity. Something here is lighting your interest, and there’s a lovely sense of rejuvenation. The cards are not kicking our ass anymore this week (thank you, cards). This card speaks of collaboration, of group work, of fulfillment, a sense of community. Deeper than that, a loss of individual self (the good kind), where the “I” becomes the “we” and we’re all stronger for it. Fortifying your group, man. WHERE MY BITCHES AT.

For the Tarot this week, I did a Celtic cross spread just for something different. Also, I am so determined to master a riffle shuffle which I cannot do to save my life. I’m awful at it.

Anyway:

1) Page of Wands

2) Seven of Pentacles

3) Ten of Wands

4) King of Pentacles

5) King of Swords

6) King of Cups

7) Six of Cups

8) Queen of Cups

9) Eight of Cups

10) Eight of Wands

Overarching theme: The Empress (Major Arcana)

Okay so look, a few things here. First of all, as far as spreads go, you can’t get more meh than this.

Second of all, I get bummed when I don’t see a Major in a spread but I had forgotten to pull the overarching theme card and when I did, MY GIRL THE EMPRESS answering my call.

Interesting that last week, we also had a Major Arcana as the overarching theme (The Hanged Man). You know what other Major appeared last week?

My girl’s boo, the Emperor.

Now, third and final point before we dive in: Christ on a cracker, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THIS OVERABUNDANCE OF MASCULINE ENERGY? My god, Leo season is just...it’s just so...Leo. My dudes, tuck it back in. Stop trying to pee on everything and stake your claim to it. It’s gonna be okay, guys. No need to be all alpha male about everything.

Alright here we go, buckle the fuck up because....ugh, Leo.

First impressions: All of the Suits represented in near perfect balance, which could mean harmony or like...a fucking battle. We’ll see.

The Empress - overarching theme

My badass bish. Abundance. Nourishment, but of the soul kind. A burst of creativity and passion, a rejuvenation in life.

1) Page of Wands - the situation right now

A willingness to learn. Something is exciting you here, some new prospect that has you wanting to absorb everything you can and act on it, but a bit of ego and lack of confidence might be holding you back. You’re stuck on yourself, not letting yourself move forward.

2) Seven of Pentacles-- the conflict

Getting in your own way is alright sometimes, because you’re evaluating. You’re laying out all your options, reflecting on it. What strikes me here is you’re weighing value in some capacity--like, is it worth it to pursue this? Because whatever it is, it seems to come at a high enough cost (actual, or figurative) to have you taking a step back. And this is actually quite remarkable, because in Leo season we’re all just fucking roaring and ready to jump head first into anything--but not this. Not here and not now. There’s such careful deliberation, and that’s okay.

3) Ten of Wands - the atmosphere around the situation

Burdens, obligations, responsibilities. Just because we want something very badly doesn’t mean it’s going to work out for us--previous obligations and responsibilities, our role in our lives and the lives of others--these are very real things which make our wants and dreams not a possibility in our immediate future. Sometimes the timing is just bad.

It also...it also looks a bit like you’ve been burned here before. You know this tale. It ended differently for you last time. You wanted something, were passionate about something, went after it with everything you had (like you’re supposed to) and man did you fall on your face. Hard enough that it stayed with you, that feeling stayed with you.

4) King of Pentacles - the base of the matter, what is really behind the drive

balanced, practical, cautious, generous. My boo, you want stability. You are chasing something so hard because it will bring you stability, reassurance, in a way that you need and in a way that you haven’t felt in a long time.

5) King of Swords - past influences

Oh bubs, somebody done you wrong. You thought you had what you needed before--and god again I’m a little taken aback at how masculine this reading is, boys are so dumb--somebody tricked you. Somebody knew what you needed, what you craved--authority, stability, communication, logic. A manipulator roped you in knowing that you needed all those things, and they provided them to you--for a short while, and on a superficial level. But you were so desperate for what you needed, that you took it.

And it burned you. So now, you’re focusing this fight internally--you are out here like a Queen, trying to be this force for you. YAAAAAAS.

6) King of Cups - forthcoming influences

You’re getting there, boo. Whether or not this is someone who Is going to enter your life, or if this is just you coming into your own....I’m not sure. The cards ain’t telling me. But it is showing me that the forthcoming influence is BALANCE, and channeling that masculine energy. The energy of being assertive but not rude, the energy of balancing emotional needs with rational thought, just...balance balance balance. Evenness. Kindness.

Finding ways to give your heart what it needs, while also leaving space for responsibility, rational thought, and growth boo. GROWTH.

And like, I am most definitely not one of those people like “love is coming to you” but like....babe it kinda looks like it is?

It doesn’t have to be a dude if you don’t bat for that team. It could be somebody who embodies all of the best characteristics and traits that we deem masculine.

7) Six of Cups-- in the “bitch where the fuck am I” position

You’re back refocused on the little things that matter. If we’re talking romantically, think of how like....a huge weekend getaway to a private vineyard somewhere in the countryside that took a lot of planning and is just this wild gesture of passionate love--that’s sweet, right? That feels nice.

But a small note on the coffee machine when you wake up, that says “You’re going to do great today, I love you” referencing a meeting that you mentioned to your significant like a week ago and said you were nervous for it. That...man, it’s the little things.

Right now, you’re coming back to centre. You’re reeling your scope back in, and you’re determining what really matters to you.

But there’s also a bit of caution here, in those small gestures--small gestures can alter our future in literally every single way. Be mindful of your actions, and their impact. Don’t be haunted by your past, but also...kid, don’t be nostalgic for it. This is so not the time.

8) Queen of Cups - the view of others

Ohhhh isn’t this a trick. Ha, lookit that Queen. This is how others view you, bubs. As this powerhouse badass woman who is in complete control at all times, reserved yet cut throat, elegant yet deadly. People view you as a person of envy, someone who always seems to have it all together.

9) Eight of Cups - hopes and fears

You’re worried that this quest or this search you’re on, this need to feel something in your past but in a much better, more fulfilling way....you’re worried it doesn’t exist. You’re worried that what you seek isn’t actually out there. You hope it is--but there’s enough doubt in you (hello! Get the fuck back there, past experiences and stay the fuck there!) that you’re terrified.

Your journey can’t be explained logically. And this is that fucking Leo sun shit, you know? If it ain’t logical or practical, then it either 1) doesn’t exist, and/or 2) you shouldn’t go anywhere near it.

Fuck that Leo side of everything.

What you seek is out there. It is not rational, but it doesn’t have to be rational to be real. The heart has reasons that even REASON doesn’t understand.

What you seek is out there, and it’s yours to find. Go.

10) Eight of Wands - Potential outcome

Listen, I love this idea of serendipity. Of self fulfilling prophecies. Because this card...mmm, what a phenomenal card to end on.

The very fact that you are out there and that you had the courage to seek this out, means that 1) it exists, and 2) that you will find it.

You taking the action of following your heart is going to set into motion a whole series of karmic reactions that you will also need on your journey. This card is travel, it’s communication, it’s a satisfying journey, it’s the jackpot. You keep putting one foot in front of the other, you keep following that heart of yours, and result will be what you expect it to be.

tl;dr: fuck this Leo energy. You do you boo, stay gentle.

#tarot

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rayonfrozenwings · 4 years

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WAITING IN THE FREEZING DARK: CHAPTER 13 - The Market

Spoiler Alert: Contains references to ACOFAS.

Authors Note: So it’s been a very long hiatus - again.... I tend to have a “writing season” it would seem.

A Nessian Fan Fiction: Characters all belong to Sarah J Maas and her book series A Court of Thorns and Roses. This Story takes place after ACOFAS. The story has Multiple POV’s, taking place in the Illyrian camp, Windhaven, Nesta and Cassian are living together at the behest of the high lord and lady of the night court.

Chapter 13 - The Market. After Nesta took the emotional plunge, awkwardness has returned between herself and Cassian. Cassian tries to find a way to fix the it by taking Nesta somewhere special.

Previous chapters are here: 1, 2, 3, 4 , 5 , 6 7 8, 9, 10, 11 , 12 and Masterlist here.

I have also put this on AO3: Series Link :)

WC 2146

Nesta

Gloved fingers held her book open as she wandered down the gravel path, trees casting dappled shadows on her pages and the birds swooping down low to get a better look at what she was reading.

“You are worse than Cassian” she called back to the birds who continued to stalk her.

She knew they weren’t birds, but she hadn't asked anyone what sort of Fae they were or if she should be wary. It was easier to ignore her surroundings than understand the constant danger she was in, walking from one end of WindHaven to the other. She also liked to think of them as friends, just trying to see what she was up to.

… and he stretched out an arm, grasping for her as she…

A larger shadow passed overhead and Nesta looked up. Nothing caught her attention but she closed her book nonetheless. The bird-featured creatures continued to twitter in the trees and she knew that whatever cast the shadow either hadn’t spotted her or was harmless since it had not sent her feathered friends into hiding.

“Hey.” Cassian called from the trees ahead.

“Hi” Nesta replied.

In the last few days she had been avoiding him when she could. She wasn’t sure how to move on from their moment and now he was here, just waiting on the path, just saying “Hey” like it was no big deal. Like she hadn’t been sent into a whirlwind of confusion.

“So, What brings you to my neck of the woods?” she said gesturing to the trees all around them.

“Just wondering if you wanted to head to a market?” He pulled away from the tree he was leaning into and matched her pace.

Nesta continued to walk straight ahead, placing the book in her satchel as she went,

“what makes you think I don’t have plans?”

Cassian looked down at their matching well-worn boots, a dimple appearing as a smile crept across his face,

“Well this particular market has an assortment of books and clothes and jewellery and other things that you might happen to appreciate.”

His head bowed, hands in pockets and that cheeky grin had Nesta wondering what he had planned, Her eyes narrowed - Cassian was notorious for surprising her. Sometimes good, sometimes, definitely not.

“I see.” She gave him a bland smile, eyebrow slightly arching. “Alright. Where is this market?”

“Ah well, it's not in Windhaven.”

“Of Course not, that would be too easy.”

“But it isn't far.”

“Everywhere is far from Windhaven.”

“I mean, it isn't far for a quick flight.” and he turned those dimples to face her again.

Nesta let out a sigh, she knew she was going to say yes. She knew as soon as he mentioned books. He knew exactly what she liked.

“Is it today?” she didn't have much planned and it would actually be a nice distraction from her episode and avoidance of Emerie.

“Yeah, it's an evening Market, so we should be able to fly there, do some browsing, have some food - they have the best food because the vendor stalls there have been handed down from generation to generation, it's a really old Market. Oh and then do some more browsing?... Nesta?”

Nesta had become distracted as soon as Cassian had said it was a night market. She hadn’t been to a Night Market in Prythian. Velaris - sure - but the city always felt like it was wide awake, the illyrian mountains had a totally different vibe - you did not want to be out too late after dark. Was it like Calanmai? The stories she had heard were disturbing and being dragged into a cave for some ritual wasn't her idea of fun. Was it like the market near home where anyone could come and go - swindling an innocent girl who didn’t know the customs?

“Nesta?” Cassian stepped in front of her, concern on his face. “We don’t have to go? I’m happy sitting on the couch next to you reading a book.”

Nesta looked up at him, her worries fading away as she looked into his warm brown eyes and the concern for her she saw there.

“We can go, just please tell me it's not as long as a flight to Velaris. I will bring back at least three books - no matter the weight.” Her finger raised to poke his chest on the last point.

“Fine, Three books, any extra books we can arrange to come back home later. I am not a pack horse.”

Nesta grinned then. Cassian wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close to him as they walked. The bird-creatures overhead losing interest in them completely.

---

“Are we there yet?” Nesta called up to Cassian, she knew that the flight was more awkward for him having someone in his arms but she was becoming very aware of the chill as the sun began to set.

“Nearly, it's over the next ridgeline.”

Nesta looked in the direction they were flying, it appeared they were getting very close to the coast, the trees were thick on the mountains below, the sky turning from azure in front of her to a deep purple behind with all the colours in between in the evening light.

“It's a beautiful location,” Nesta said, hoping to get more out of him.

“We’re not there yet, and anyway - it's alleyways could be full of mud and animals - you don't know.” He said with a grin and she really hoped it wasn't the case, she had hoped there might be somewhere to stay and sleeping with the pigs was not ideal.

They caught a thermal and glided over the ridge, below Nesta could see a clearing with a lake, glistening and perfectly reflecting the sky. The cliff below them poured light forth and the trees glowed with warm light, drawing her attention to the thick forest below.

“Is this it?” she asked quietly.

Cassian began his descent towards the lake.

“They like to be approached from the lake, so we will land there and then make our way up into the Market.”

She nodded into his chest and peeked at the cliff as Cassian turned to land. The closer they got the more she realised this was like nothing she had seen before.

Cassian’s feet reached the ground and Nesta quickly swung her feet around and tried to regain control of the traitorous limbs that appeared to have fallen asleep on her.

“Do you need me to carry you to somewhere you can sit down?” Cassian asked

“I’m perfectly fine, just give me a minute.”

They walked a little way along the lake edge, logs appeared to have been placed in the earth as a type of boardwalk next to the reeds and protecting the many lesser fae from the mud.

“So who runs the Market?” Nesta asked as iridescent wings made of night court jewels flew past her face.

“Not sure if it's one person Nes," he threw her a cheeky grin, "and it's always been here.” Cassian focused on leading as the logs seemed to pull them into the trees and up a slope.

“Always? How do people survive? It can’t always be here? These mountains don’t see many tourists.” Nesta was not like her sister - things had to make sense, even faerie markets.

“Well, it's not always Here, but it has always been here.” he said, pointing to the ground first and then spreading his hands all around. “Come, I have something I want to show you.” he said.

Held out his hand.

Nesta took it.

She quite liked holding his hand, it was like the arm around her shoulder but for some reason this time it felt more like they were partners in crime rather than Cassian reassuring her. A distinction she liked to make in her mind. The faeries around her moved with purpose heading exactly where they needed to go, making Nesta wonder - were they sent a map or did they have some way of tracking the stall they needed. Cassian continued to set a fast pace beside her on the half buried logs and she stayed quiet as she tried to piece together how this Market and her Commander fit. Was he here just for her or for something else too?

“So how did you know the market was on?” Nesta asked

“Ah, well it's always on - but at this time of year it happens to be in these hills.” He looked up at the windows of light and then back to her. “You see - it moves around the Night Court during the year. All the locations have been the same since it first started, so they have made each one a destination in itself. This location is my favourite.”

Nesta absorbed that information and tried to think of what she should ask first.

After much deliberation she asked quietly,

“Why is it your favourite?” the soft glow mixed with the encroaching darkness making her take a step towards intimacy she wasn't sure she was ready for again but made anyway.

He continued walking up the steps that had emerged from the path as they made it to one of the entrances in the cliff face. Turning to look at her he pulled her hand to his lips and brushed a kiss across her knuckles. “Many reasons but mostly because I get to be me without any expectation here, this place has its own rules and because they have things you cannot get anywhere else”.

Nesta looked deep into his eyes and nodded, words caught in her throat.

They made their way through the archway and Nesta could see the arches and domes in the ceiling cut out of the rock, precious gems breaking away from the white granite walls. The entrance felt like the earth was alive and she was inviting them into her embrace - warm, solid and trapped.

“How, wait, Wait!” Nesta stopped in the entry Hall and looked ahead to the crowds along the corridor, the market appeared to be made of many connecting rooms, each holding a different stall owner and their wares. The walls were carved from the rock and small door shapes in the wall allowed the lesser-fae to move freely along. She couldn’t see any illyrians but perhaps they didn't frequent the clothing stalls that appeared to be along the front of the Cave complex.

“Where are we going?” Nesta asked firmly, feet rooted below her.

Cassian was pulled by her hand which he continued to hold, and picked up the other one. They stood there holding hands. Fae and other creatures moved around them like waves around rocks along the shoreline.

“I have a surprise for you.” he said with earnestness.

“I don’t know if I can go in there, it's a lot of rock, last time…” she looked down at their hands and let out a deep breath, “last time… bryaxis… and…. “ Nesta avoided his eyes and looked off towards the humming wings and chatter of languages different to her own, bouncing off the cavern walls. Movement, light, not still - not like before. She whispered “I haven’t been back underground that far.” she ran her thumb over his fingers, her voice small emphasising her collapsing shoulders under the weight of feelings she didn’t want.

“I see” he replied as if he himself had blocked out the memory.

“I know that it's not rational, I just, maybe, I just need to know how to get out. What if I go now and meet up with you later?” she looked up at him then, hoping her solution wouldn’t hurt his feelings.

He continued to rub his thumb over hers, looking at their hands and avoiding her gaze,

“I love you Nes,” he whispered, “please don’t go. We can do this together.”

In a barely audible whisper she said “I can’t go in there, not yet.”

“But this might be the only time for a long time,” it was then he looked down into her eyes, The ice blue pools lined with silver, the fear in them, that otherness. Cassian pulled her into his arms and held her, kissing the hair on her head. Nesta could feel his breath on her neck and his wings wrapping around them both, removing the rest of the world from the moment. Peace and a wave of calm came over Nesta eradicating the fear that was there a moment ago.

“Cassian.” She took a deep breath, “Tell me about the Market, lets get some food first and then you will tell me about everything. Let me see if I can rationalise my way inside?” Nesta released the words on a quiet breath and Cassian hugged her tighter.

“Okay food first. We have to head back towards the lake.” he unwrapped his wings and kissed her hand.

“I love you, you know.”

“I know.”

Authors Note: This was inspired by a prompt from Tumblr. Ever since the release of the title A Court of Silver Flames, I have had an idea for where I want to take this story that is slightly different from the original plan I had in mind. Hopefully this leads into that. As always - motivation varies, so If I end up having another long hiatus from writing - I apologise now! But I'm already writing the next chapter.

#waitinginthefreezingdark #reneewritesfanfic #fan fic #acotar #nessian #nesta #cassian #acofas #acomaf #acowar

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mst3kproject · 5 years

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802: The Leech Woman – Part III

I’ve devoted a review to the terrible characters in The Leech Woman and another to its nasty misogynistic ‘message’, what’s left? As it turns out, plenty. The next layer down in our Leech Woman Tira Misu of badness has several ingredients that just wouldn’t fit with the themes of either of the previous installments.

The script frequently feels a need to explain what’s happening on screen, which is sometimes helpful but equally often kind of insulting, since characters are telling us things we can clearly see for ourselves. A Nando dude has his face pushed into a pot of misty stuff and is then dragged stumbling over to the sacrificial block, and David declares “he’s drugged!” as if we wouldn’t be able to tell. Moments later, the man’s pineal gland is carved out – this does require some narration, since the visuals aren’t self-explanatory, but the “he’s adding the pineal hormone to the Naipi” a moment later really doesn’t need to be there.

The intense use of stock footage is also a form of this. We know that the characters are going to Africa, and we see them hiring a guide and tramping through a jungly-looking set, only to also be shown reams of animal stock footage that has basically nothing to do with the story. The only time it has any bearing on the plot is with the leopard that supposedly follows June. The rest is padding, there to emphasize (as Crow observes) that we are definitely in Africa, as if the audience couldn’t already tell.

A few bits in this part of the movie are shot outside, pretty clearly in California rather than anywhere near Africa. Others are obviously in ‘jungle’ studio sets, and you can really feel how closed-in and artificial these spaces are, especially when contrasted with the wide-open savannahs and broad skies in the stock footage. I guess I can say in the movie’s favour that it looks more jungle-ish than Jungle Moon Men did, but there are places in Canada that look more jungle-ish than that, so it’s not really saying very much.

The most egregious use of stock footage in The Leech Woman is in the Nando village, where we see some shots of people dancing in Real Africa before cutting back to extras in Hollywood Africa. The two sets of footage look nothing alike. The people in the documentary shots are dancing in a practiced, purposeful fashion. The ones in the stuff filmed for The Leech Woman are just kind of flailing and bouncing. The juxtaposition is kind of like splicing shots of trained ballroom dancers in with video of the junior prom and pretending it was all part of the same scene. This extends to the costumes, with the ‘real’ dancers wearing elaborate ceremonial beadwork and the actors in crummy kilts and geographically inappropriate tiger skins. The latter still look nothing like the shower curtain Malla’s wearing when she reappears. The only costume that had effort put into it is that ridiculous tusk headdress the high priest wears.

The Nando themselves are a plot device, rather than a people. They are Privy To Wisdom the White Man Hath Forgotten, but they’re also very much superstitious savages, with their regular human sacrifices and habit of killing anybody who tries to talk to them. None of them have lines and except for Malla and the high priest they are basically indistinguishable from each other – this keeps us from feeling sorry for them when their village gets blown up. The only ones we see up very close are Malla, whom we will soon learn is planning to kill the heroes, and the priest, whose face is hidden. They are dehumanized and, with their job of introducing June to the Cure for Old done, they are dismissed.

That would be pretty standard for a fifties jungle movie, but there’s one rather out-of-place bit that seems to be there just as gratuitous racism. When David goes back for the dynamite, under the pretense of giving Malla a necklace, one of his guards takes a moment to steal some of June’s other jewelry from the luggage. Why? What value does it have to these people who live in the middle of nowhere and don’t appear to trade with the outside world? The event never has any impact on the plot, even though June later uses jewelry to entice her victims… come to think of it, why did she have that stuff with her on a safari anyway? If this isn’t just a throwaway moment of lol, black people are thieves, it seems to just be a little reminder that the Nando cannot be trusted and that we shouldn’t worry about David blowing them up. Doesn’t quite work when he also steals their stuff on the way out, does it?

And of course, the ending sucks. Rather than facing any sort of consequences for her crimes, June simply throws herself out the window, leaving Sally dead in the closet and Neil and the police wondering what the hell just happened. The withered corpse we see under the window is obviously a mannequin, and doesn’t even look like June. And as with far too many movies of this vintage, there is no denouement. We don’t know if Neil ever understands that June and ‘Terri’ were the same person, or why Sally was killed. We don’t see him realize what he’s lost by allowing himself to be dragged around by the dick. The movie just ends. They couldn’t have spent two minutes on that instead of on random animal footage?

After going through all the many ways in which The Leech Woman is a terrible and frequently offensive movie, how it hates men, women, black people, white people, and anybody stupid enough to watch it, I guess it needs to be asked: why do I enjoy it so much? I think partly it is because it’s so non-denominationally misanthropic – it hates everybody, and while it saves special venom for unattractive women, nobody else comes off well, either. Another, as previously mentioned, is how it doesn’t bother to have any ‘good’ characters. The protagonist of the movie, as in the person through whose eyes we watch it and whose arc we follow, is June – and she’s an insane, selfish murderess!

I do tend to like movies that focus on a villain’s journey. There’s Lady Frankenstein, for example, in which Tanya Frankenstein carries the whole movie despite the fact that she’s evil to the core, and in the end is destroyed by her own creature as he realizes that he, like everything else around her, is just a tool she’s using to further her own sense of self-importance. There’s the similarly-titled Countess Dracula, which is what you might get if you imagine a version of The Leech Woman that actually tries to convince you Neil is the hero but still doesn’t have him actually do anything. And there are Hammer’s Frankenstein movies, which are all about Peter Cushing’s Victor Frankenstein with the inconsequential ‘heroes’ simply revolving around him.

Why are these characters so much more interesting than the heroes who are trying to defeat them? I think it has to do with the fact that these villains are proactive – they are taking steps to go out and get what they want. Victor Frankenstein wants to prove his latest theory, June wants to watch men fall at her feet when she smiles at them, and they both believe the means justify the ends. The ‘good guys’ of the movie, on the other hand, are merely reacting to the evil plot they’ve discovered. In light of that, it’s also interesting to ask why it’s so often women who take center stage in this kind of movie: as well as June, I’ve mentioned two examples in the previous paragraph, with Tanya Frankenstein and Countess Elizabeth. This is probably because women in movies of this era are not supposed to be proactive in getting what they want, or even to have wants at all besides to kiss the guy at the end.

This type of movie also suggests that evil, being intrinsically selfish, will ultimately destroy itself. The good characters, where they exist, are victims or completely irrelevant – the closest things The Leech Woman has to ‘good guys’ are Neil and the detective, the former being helplessly in June’s thrall and the latter not even showing up until the movie’s almost over and then having his job done for him by her suicide. Since these characters don’t try to do anything about their situations (Neil doesn’t even realize he’s in one), they’re not at all interesting, and the villains command the movie all the more. This would lead one to think that the ‘message’ of the movie is the same as the one I pulled out of Outlaw, that bad things will just go away if you wait long enough.

In some cases that’s probably true (it’s going to work for the Earth – us humans will kill ourselves off soon and the rest of the biosphere can get back to business), but The Leech Woman also serves to emphasize that letting evil destroy itself will cause far more damage than if somebody tackled the problem before it got that far. If Neil had actually cared that ‘Terri’ was destroying his relationship with Sally and tried to leave her, he might have saved himself a lot of trouble. In fact, what would have happened then? Would June have gone off to find another victim, or would she have become more aggressive in her pursuit of him in particular? Would he have maybe cottoned on to what was happening and come back to save her next boyfriend from suffering a terrible fate? Oh, hey, look – I just wrote a better movie in three sentences, again.

I think that’s about as much Leech Woman as I can take. See you next week – I don’t actually have that many more of these to do, do I? Thank you all for hanging in there with me. We’re on the home stretch now!

#mst3k #reviews #the leech woman #tw: suicide #boy are we in africa!#60s

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owl630 · 5 years

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Jon Gets A Hug From All Of Team Archives Because He Really Deserves One

I'm late to this party but my son deserves better. Also this is an unedited mess, but I'm tired so I'm not going to fix it.

Daisy prided herself on being able to get a read on people fairly quickly. Not as fast as Basira, but she had her own methods. From felons to monsters to coworkers, everyone could be figured out eventually. They all had something they were hunting for. Which made Jon an interesting case, as she couldn't figure out what exactly he wanted.

Jon was... odd. He kept to himself unless someone approached him first, but he always seemed like he was happy when someone did. He never went out of his way to interact with people, had a prickly personality, and didn't seem to have any close friends, but the moment someone was hurt he would rush in to try and help. Key word was try, but lately his efforts were more appreciated. He was grounding, a weird yet comforting presence whenever she needed to not be alone. Or when Melanie needed someome to vent about her day to. He made a truly awful cup of tea for Basira after she had stumbled into the archives after a long day of chasing dead ends, and seemed to be the only person who asked if Helen needed anything if he saw her. He clearly kept an eye out for Martin, even though the rest of them were sure that wherever he was, he wasn't coming back any time soon, and kept his favorite mug in the archive's kitchen instead of throwing it out to make room for other stuff.

In short, Jon was starting to become a friend. To all of them, although Daisy knew she was probably the closest approximation to one he had in the archives. He seemed like he had kept a distance between himself and the others, but also seemed like he was starting to let the others a bit closer. He was still a bit of a prick at times, but no one could deny he was softer around the edges now.

So when Martin Blackwood had stumbled into the archives half asleep, probably out of habit, and had passed out at his old desk before anyone could stop him Jon's reaction was a bit of a surprise. Jon had looked like he'd seen a ghost when he walked out of his office and realized he was there. He stopped and stared, eyes wide and jaw slack.

"Martin." He said softly. He blinked then turned to Daisy who had been chatting to Melanie before Martin had showed up. She was surprised to see his expression. It looked almost... hopeful. "Daisy can you watch him for a second? Just... make sure he doesn't go anywhere."

She nodded, raising an eyebrow. He seemed like he was over reacting a bit over someone who got transferred to another job, but then again she hadn't really gotten a chance to get to know Martin very well before he left. Jon was back in less than a minute, carrying a blanket and pillow from the archive's cot. Without a word he put the blanket over Martin's shoulders and the pillow under his head, then with a satisfied nod walked back to his office to record a statement.

After a few moments Daisy shrugged and had gone back to asking Melanie how Helen was doing. Basira kept reading nearby, occasionally stopping to ask for some more gossip on the latest office romance. It was nice. With Martin at his desk to keep Jon from worrying, and as she was gossiping with her coworkers, she could almost pretend they all had normal jobs. She cracked a smile as Basira started telling Melanie one of her cop stories, and sunk into her chair, feeling more at peace then she had in months.

Then the door to the archives opened and Peter Lukas, the man who was apparently her boss although this was the first time she had seen the guy, came in. He barely spared her a second glance, instead going directly towards where Martin had been sleeping, although the moment Lukas entered he jerked awake as if he had been shocked looking around in confusion.

Now, Daisy may not have known the guy but she did know that getting woken up from a well earned workplace nap was something no one should deal with. So she stepped between them, crossing her arms and staring him down. Meanwhile Melanie had the same idea and within seconds had a knife in her hand and had jumped over the desk to place herself next to her. Basira looked over her book at Lukas, thinly veiled disgust apparent on her face.

"Can we help you?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'm here to collect my employee." Lukas said, brushing an invisible speck of dust off his shirt with a cold smile. "He seems to have wandered off, and I can't afford to waste any more time."

"Well, Martin can afford to take a nap for a few hours." Melanie replied with a glare.

Lukas raised an eyebrow. "A nice thought, but Martin is helping me with an important project and he needs to be away from distractions."

"You can come back later." Daisy said coldly.

"And yet I'm here now." Lukas replied.

Martin rolled his eyes and got up from the desk. "I'll be there in a minute Peter. Must have forgotten I'd changed desks."

Lukas fixed his stare at Martin instead. "Did it slip your mind how important this is?"

Martin flinched slightly and started forward, but Daisy put a hand out and stopped him in his tracks. "He's not going anywhere until someone explains what the Hell is going on." She growled. "You've been avoiding our questions. Blackwood here finally showed up, and now you're suddenly here in person. So I'll ask you again. What are you planning?"

Lukas narrowed his eyes his smile fixed firmly in place.

"Please don't make this difficult Ms. Tonner. You may have a short leash on your temper, but Martin is my employee and he needs to get back to work."

Melanie narrowed her eyes and glared at him her grip on her knife tightening.

"Answer the question Lukas." She growled.

"No I don't think I will." He replied. "Now move and let Martin past."

Martin shook his head. "Just let me leave. I'm doing this for a reason, you just have to trust me." He said quietly, staring at the floor.

"Martin don't be an idiot." Said Basira. "He's using you."

Daisy nodded and took a step forward. "Leave Martin alone." She growled.

Lukas sighed looking disinterested, then with a smooth movement grabbed her upper arm. As he did so the sound of static filled her ears and an overwhelming feeling of loneliness rose up in her. It was like the coffin all over again. Distantly she heard the sound of voices, but they were too far away and fog obscured her vision.

She was alone again. No one was coming to save her. She couldn't fight and she'd never see Basira again. The static grew louder and she realized she had fallen to her knees.

And then the feeling vanished as she heard a door slam open.

The fog cleared and she noticed several things at once. First was that she was on the ground and Basira was holding her looking worried. Second was that Jon had come out of his office and was standing between them and Lukas. Third was that his eyes were glowing and there was the overwhelming feeling of something watching her.

"Get out of my archives." He growled.

His voice was distorted as static and the sound of a tape recorder running filled the air. "If you ever come near any of my assistants again I'll kill you myself, consequences be damned."

Lukas raised an eyebrow. "Hello Jon. Martin and I were just leaving."

"I said any of them." He replied with a glare. "Martin is my... he's still one of my assistants. You cannot keep him isolated anymore Lukas."

"But it's Martin's choice Jon." Lukas said with a smile.

"I may trust Martin but I don't trust you." He snapped. "So you have ten seconds to leave before I make you."

"Now now Jon, don't make things difficult." Lukas replied, grabbing onto Martin's arm and pulling him away. Martin flinched slightly with the movement. Daisy got to her feet and Melanie moved forward but they weren't fast enough. Jon grabbed Martin's hand and turned him around so he was face to face with him.

"Do you want to stay here?" He snapped.

"Yes." Martin said quickly, then covered his mouth realizing what he had said. Jon's eyes went wide as he realized what he had done. He dropped Martin's hand quickly, which was when the rest of them acted.

"You heard the man, now go." Melanie growled pushing Lukas back. A conveniently placed door swung open as he fell, and clicked closed behind him. Helen waved at them, and then she and the door disappeared.

Daisy took a deep breath and leaned on Basira. Melanie had a self satisfied smile on her face which fell once they realized Jon had curled in on himself.

"I'm sorry." He said quietly, his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm so sorry Martin I know you said to stop finding you and I tried but I was being selfish and it got Daisy hurt. I'm as bad as he is and I'm so, so-"

He was cut off by Martin pulling him into a hug. Daisy stumbled over and wrapped her arms around him too. Melanie and Basira joined them quickly, in what was an awkward but genuine group hug.

Jon stiffened. "Why... why are you hugging me?" He asked softly.

"You're nothing like Lukas." She said forcefully. "You're our friend Jon."

"Damn right." Melanie muttered.

Basira laughed slightly. "You're a pain sometimes and don't know when to shut up, but you're a good person."

He shuddered. "I'm not even human anymore" He said quietly. "I'm a monster-"

Martin shifted and hugged him more. "No Jon, you're not a monster." He said. "You're you."

Jon let out a shakey laugh as he leaned against them more. "I missed you." He said softly.

"I missed you too."

#the magnus archives #tma #hugjonsims2k19 #look i just wanted him to get a hug but then the plot got away from me #so yeah #hopefully this isn't too awful #jon sims #martin blackwood #daisy tonner #alice daisy tonner #basira hussain #melanie king #peter lukas #helen richardson #but only for a second #there's jonmartin and daisira if you squint

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aggresivelyfriendly · 6 years

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Chapter One- Ichiriba Chode-

Here she is- give her a shot! I’m a little in love with japan harry, and want him to fall- in love or on his face! Thanks to the tripod, Writers cannot live without ass taps, laughs and love!

The ride down through the clouds was tougher than any flight he'd been on, and he was double glad that Jeff insisted on him using the private jet. It was the right decision this time. He avoided flying private whenever he could. It always made Harry feel weird, like he wasn't a normal person or something.

Jeff often reminded him he was the most normal non normal person he had ever met. A normal person perhaps with a crazy abnormal life.

Commercial flights meant fans and at least one Instagram or twitter tag with his at. A geolocation attached. Then people would know where he was. Where he was, he felt like he was about to enter another world, another phase of his life. A much anticipated and talked about phase, but one not explained or complained about yet. He could see the Sumida River below him and the light dawning over Tokyo. He grabbed his tattered, leather notebook and pressed it to his nose, like he always did, before opening it. 'A sunrise over its homeland, welcome to Japan.' There had been a little rash of songs about this place as of late, though the interest in it wasn't exactly new. Harry loved this place, its sights and sounds, and the language that he could replicate in very short carefully memorized sentences. He loved the sentiments expressed in those untranslatable sentences. That’s why he picked it. When he'd been near finished with the last album and realized he had a three month hole in his schedule, Jeff asked him what he wanted to do. And Harry wanted to do another movie. There was a script he'd been secretly hoarding, one he really wanted to make. He’d procured the rights to it, and a few others to cover his tracks. It had a lot to do with his absolute love affair with this city. And his love of rom coms. And because he liked to either defy or supersede expectations. Everybody expected him to do a rom com, so he would, and he'd do the original with a current twist. Tokyo Holiday. The script was fun and pithy and used the landscape and culture and language he'd found so entrancing. He'd even made a solo trip once he'd read the screenplay, to visit some of the places and see a friend. He fell in love here. With the city. It would be easy, what he had to portray. He could easily imagine it. That was, he could imagine falling in love there. He wanted to fall in love, in Tokyo. On screen at least. It was the one he wanted to make, and since Jeff liked to exceed his expectations, they were doing a condensed shooting schedule. Jeff had gotten him just about everything he wanted. Including Ada Scott. He'd been enamored of her work for years, and he'd met her father, Garner Scott, many many times. He was a close friend of Irving's, and had been an influential producer and maestro in the music industry for so long, it was more accidental than anything else that Harry had never directly worked with him. Ada was the mystery though, he'd never met her anywhere in LA or New York or London. He thought he'd heard she went to school for some time in England. He was fairly certain she went to the Sorbonne for University. Ok, he was totally certain, he had spent a lot of time researching her. Ever since her little movie cum critical darling, Wildflower, had taken up permanent residence in his mind and inspiration bank. It wasn't a love story, not really, so it was weird he wanted her to direct his rom com. And he wanted her at the helm so bad he had insisted and said he wasn't doing it, even after they had gone through all the set up motions and contracts pending, unless she was the director. It was the way she framed the sexual moments in 'Wildflower', a coming of rage story about the daughter of absent parents who struggles with addiction, to substances and love. The sex scenes were just part of the landscape, an aspect of the lead character's life, not the focus of the story. Some of the set ups were unromantic at best. Ainsley, the lead character, was flippant, and occasionally predatory in her search for affection. But the love scenes, sex scenes, were so beautifully framed and imperfect, sexy in their raw realness. They lacked the air brush of Hollywood and the filter of instagram. There was nothing perfect about them, but the emotion was real and moving. Even the negative emotions. And they were from the female gaze. Which was getting more common. However, Wildflower's female gaze was imperfect, skewed, and flawed. That was not so common. He wanted to bring that to the Tokyo Holiday script, some aspects of the story needed grit. The plot of the movie was a young royal sent on his first solo trip. Eyes of the world on him and a laundry list of rules about his behavior. He'd be in a city, Henry Stuart, the royal was named, that he harbored a fascination with, and no opportunity or chance to see a thing. All of his sight seeing would be carefully guarded and heavily photographed. And official. Henry hated official. Basically it was familiar territory for Harry. The flip side of the movie, was the translator assigned to Henry. Akio was a gatekeeper. The translator gig gave him the ability to exercise that. It was also a means to an end for him, the translation was so that he could pay for his travel in and around Japan, his love of good food, and constant need for fashion and fun. He was older than Henry and burly, manly, and everything Henry secretly fantasized about. And when he noticed the young prince's absolute frustration with the gilded prison he lived in, he fished. He'd share pictures of his adventures, and tell Henry about meals and moments he'd loved. It didn't take long before Henry was sneaking out to try the tiny sushi bars and all night dance clubs. The best part was Akio's warm hand in his own and wide shoulders bracketing him when they came across another threshold, when Akio let him step first into new worlds. Harry was excited to see how Ada would handle the dichotomy of the polished world versus the gritty excitement Henry and Akio found in underground Tokyo. He hoped she made the night life dreamy and the day times surreal. Harry was sure she would. The notes that Jeff had brought out from meetings he had missed were exactly what he wanted. He was excited to see how Ada would handle their love scenes. They were so bittersweet on the page, awkward and almost uncomfortable, but such a eye opening moments for Henry, Harry could see Ada mastering them. True to life and life altering. He was excited to see how Ada would frame Tokyo. She'd traveled here, he'd found deep in her Instagram. She was younger, and there were lots of emojis and exclamation points. Those were largely absent from her current social media presence. He wasn't sure if that was due to her falling in love with Japan, like he had, or because she had grown out of effusion. He hoped the latter was not the case. He appreciated enthusiasm, liked it loads better than sophistication. He was excited to meet Ada. Not because she was beautiful, but because he was a fan. And he was damn lucky the scheduling had worked out, and that she was willing to risk her critical capital on him. Risk the buzz around her on a rom com. It could be a really good movie. He knows, and bankable. He could be bankable, was. It could also be a huge flop, effectively ending his film career for a time and her directorial rise. Harry wasn't sure why she was doing this. It wasn't about money. She'd been raised music royalty and could probably just be rich as a job for her whole life. But she'd gone to really great schools and worked really hard. She'd made a great but uncomfortable film. It was nothing like the film she was going to make with him. Harry was a bit confused about why she had said yes. Sometimes, when he was trying to close a deal, wanted somebody, like Jeff Bhasker, he met them personally. It always did the trick for him. He was charming. Jeff always said people fell a little in love with him. Harry would deny it, if it wasn't mutual. He always fell a little in love with the people he worked with. It was almost never consummated. But he hadn't met Ada. So it hadn't been his famous charm that got her to sign on. Harry hadn't even called. Jeffrey said the negotiations were surprisingly brief. "Is it because our dad knows her dad?" Harry was searching. Why would she take the risk? Irving was compelling, he knew that. "'Maybe, but I think Ada is, like, begrudgingly in the industry, like was looking to make her own name and avoid Garner's large footprints." That’s probably why she stayed away from music, or maybe she had a bad voice. That would do, she needed a flaw. With the Ivy League, and the face, and the taste. What was she doing with him? With his movie? Maybe she was a secret directioner. He laughed out loud and startled the quiet air of his solitary cabin. Unlikely, though that wouldn't be the weirdest or the first. God, what if she had a little thing for him? That would be so awkward. Kinda thrilling too, he bit his lip at the thought. He'd shaken that older woman stigma, but it was still a flavor he enjoyed under the radar. He shook his head at himself. Ada was a woman, women didn't risk their whole lives for his dimples. They didn't have the time. You could come over after their kids were asleep, so long as you left before they got up for school. Or you could spend the night when they were at dads for the weekend or school Holidays. You had to work into their schedule. Like the movie had. Maybe it just fit and she liked the script. It was good and a fresh take on a classic, like Alessandro reincorporating the green and red web. In any case, Harry was a bag of nerves to meet her, his director. Maybe not the way he was for Chris. But he'd met him way later in the process. And that wasn't his ship. He was a member of a big and bright ensemble. He hoped they got along, he hoped she got his dumb jokes, and they had creative chemistry. He hoped she liked him. They finally got to where he could deplane and go straight through customs. He hoped the hour, just gone dawn where it first touched earth, meant he'd be able to get in undetected. He'd gotten lucky a lot lately. The short hair helped. He missed the long locks as much as everybody else, but princes were not allowed rockstar hair so, he'd cut it. His mum favored this length. "Welcome to Tokyo, Mr. Styles," a bright eyed customs girl smiled. It was conspiratorial, like she'd helped him pull off a trick. Masa was waiting at the baggage area for him, and had collected his things already. That would be a neat trick, if the private stuff didn’t always come out of the oversized belt to the side. Plus, it was all worn high end pieces.Masa knew them. They'd lived in his living room going on three times now. "Osu Ha-ri, genki?" His burly friend said. He loved when men were taller than him, then he drew fewer eyes. "Hisashiburi, Masa!" They embraced. He also loved when he was smaller, his wingspan was usually the widest. Not with Masa. He barely remembered how'd they met, Harry thought it had to do with Bell. Something to do with the dog. No, it was the boxing gym; Masa’s business, but the dog was there. But he'd immediately felt comfy and happy. Cozy. That was a feeling Harry had learned to listen to, made sure to include people in his life who made him feel like he was at home immediately. When you essentially run away with the circus at 16, you get homesick. The road family was good, but after time, Harry realized there were people who looked out for you, people who looked out for themselves, and people who used you. The ones that looked out for others, like Cal, and Ben, and the Azoffs, gave him an immediate feeling of home. Like when he would wake up and smell his mom baking, or see her come in with dirt under her nails, or the steam of his favorite mug placed in front of him, but flesh. Since he'd started his own circus, he'd felt at home with Mitch, especially, which was why he was closest to him and Sarah. And Helene, though that one got complicated a few times, and he'd felt like that with Masa. Or maybe Bell, in any case, he liked seeing them when he was in Japan. As he was setting up arrangements and Jeff had asked him who he wanted for his own Akio, his own Japanese handler, he'd immediately said Masa. Masa has been thrilled, had even wanted Harry to stay with them. "You sure you want to go to the hotel, Ha-ri. We set up the guest room?" Masa took his carry on from him, but was wise enough to not try for the suitcase. Harry could only take so many insults to his man hood. He liked being smaller, but not feeling small. "Nah, man, I couldn't put you guys out, and I have to be on set so early sometimes. I may even sleep in my trailer, if my last time on set is anything to go by." He hefted his brown leather satchel up and rolled his massive-'whole life in a suitcase' bag behind him. "I'd hate to think you guys may be waiting for me." "We wouldn’t mind." Masa, so polite. The Japanese could give the English a run for their money in manners. Masa meant it. He didn't break out any of the pleases Harry had tried to learn last time. There were a lot of ways to say please in Japanese. Harry was relieved Masa didn’t push more. He could stay there, it would be ok. But there would be expectations. "The studio already paid for the hotel." That could be fixed, but Harry knew he would run himself ragged trying to please everybody. He'd see Masa every day and his girl and Bell on weekends, or when they traveled. And he'd work out at the gym. They'd shoot a little in Kyoto too. And somewhere on an island with gorgeous hot springs. All around Tokyo, mostly. He expected his four legged family to show occasionally. He hoped that the already paid money and set up would be enough. Masa smiled a little bemusedly and hoisted Harry's bag with his journals and toiletries and workout shoes up his shoulder and then tromped to his car. When Harry sat in the front seat, Masa looked at him, "what are you doing?" "You want me to ride in the back?" Harry could tell he looked like a really attractive bug at the moment. "Well, you won't stay at my home, so, figured I was just an employee." Harry stood with the door open trying to figure out how to respond, he felt like his was standing hanging his ass out a window for how exposed he was. Standing outside near an airport of all places. He was stuck, he had no idea he had offended Masa so much. Could they get over this? Would he be pissed for long? Should Harry just stay with him? Dammit. He totally didn't subscribe to the you shouldn't work with friends idea, most of the people he worked with started or became friends. It usually meant trust, not squished toes. Fuck. The grin took over Masa's handsome face a moment later, it was huge, big as the freak out Harry was just engaging in. Then he snorted a laugh that sent Harry's eyebrows way up his forehead. "I'm just fucking with you. Get in before you get photographed, or worse, mobbed!" Masa was coughing by the time Harry had the door closed and was pulling the seat belt on. "That wasn't very funny." Harry shook his head but a laugh was rumbling in his chest too. "That's because you couldn't see your face!" Masa wiped a tear, he was very satisfied with his joke and Harry narrowed his eyes at him. Gemma would pull some shit like this, play on his natural insecurity about upsetting somebody, especially somebody he cared about, and then crack up in his face. This felt familial. Which was why he had learned to listen to the warm feeling in his gut when he met certain people. They were the best ones. And they made the traveling circus home. Masa was home. Japan in a person. He had lived in the U.S. as a teenager, and was fluent in English, which helped him teach Harry Japanese. He even got English humor, though Harry's puns were inevitably lost on him. Lost on everyone. "Alright, Jesus. You're not that funny. Keep your eyes open, so we make it to the hotel in one piece. Just for that I should make you be a chauffeur and ride in the back of the car." "You won't. You'll feel too off. Besides, I can drive and laugh at you, I suspect I'll get really good at it the next couple months." He grinned like an ass Harry's way. "So what's the next couple days like, the itinerary I got is kinda bare at first." "I think that's to do with people arriving, Ada, the director, is coming right off some work in New York, and flights and delays and crews and entourages." He made a ‘you know’ gesture. Masa just looked at him, and Harry had to laugh. His life was weird. Most abnormal normal person ever. "But, anyway, I'm supposed to, um, wow the river!" And he pointed to the bright sun spot on the water and got totally distracted. He loved this city. "Do you want me to stop?" Masa asked, put on his indicator. He knew Harry was going to be impossible to distract from the sight until he really saw it, maybe wrote on it. It was quiet. Harry thought he could chance it. So he nodded, barely waited for the car to stop before he stepped out, on what would soon be a very crowded bridge and stood, bathed in the opening day. This could be a good thing, a great start of something. This morning felt like it. This movie was the beginning of something, big. He was terrified. But he tried to do things that scared him. And this movie was going to bring up the perpetual questions about his sexuality. Harry was ready to just say the obvious. But point out that actors didn’t need to be lgbtq to play a character who was. He was scared of this too, because he didn’t like the pressure to define himself, to be definite. He liked fluidity, ambiguity. But he’d do it, for the film. Maybe to stop the question once and for all. That made him laugh, unlikely.

He’d tested it out in the mirror a lot when the movie got the greenlight. ‘I’m bisexual.’

‘I fall for people, not women or men necessarily.’ ‘I like both.’ It didn’t really matter, but the question was the bad penny that kept turning up, so he’d lay it to rest, say he was bi, and hope nobody pressed, like that awful woman in that Bowie interview. He hoped some progress had been made. He hoped lots of things.

Harry was so glad Jeff was coming and that he had Masa. He could do it as long as he stayed near people who made him safe, like Jeff and Masa.

He hoped Ada felt like family, like ichariba chode. Like Masa taught him. Friends that feel like home. Harry loved that the Japanese had a word for his abstracted feelings. That would make it easier for him to slip into character. This prince in an ivory tower with high expectations,myriad rules, and attraction to something uncommon. It was much closer to him than Alex, his previous role. He felt good, like this moment was an omen. He took it in like he did the crowds at his shows, looked over the water like it was a whole sea of people who thought he was amazing. He could be amazing. He hoped Ada thought so. He couldn't wait to meet Ada. He was terrified. It was three days later when she made it to set. She was late, so the production had started without her. Just coverage and blocking. They couldn't get too far behind. So the producers urged the A.D. to get going. It was going well, Harry felt like he'd made a good opening salvo by renting the karaoke hall last night. He'd sung with each group, in each room, even took requests. They were out until really late. He knew he looked slightly worse for wear, he hoped Ayae’s eye patches took down the bags. She made some very unhappy noises over the concealer this morning. His balance, which sucked most days, was always worse when he was hungover. It was why he rarely drank when he had to perform. He really shouldn't have last night. But you have to drink when you’re being toasted. He got toasted a lot. After every song. Before every song. During musical breaks. He was feeling really queasy, having trouble staying on his mark when he heard a new voice. The whole room was angled it's way. "Sorry," her voice was huskier than he expected. It was...nice. "I think they grounded every damn plane on the eastern seaboard. I was afraid I might have to reenact the movie Terminal. Get a set of toiletries at the overpriced shop, buy myself a blanket to go with the travel pillow I wore like a necklace for three days." The pillow necklace was still on, and it dawned on Harry that she had come straight from the airport. The pattern on the pillow was wild, kinda seemed to be moving. He needed some water. Wow, he felt a little like he was on a tilt o wheel. She was really pretty. Better than her photos and she was dragging her suitcase. He should help her. Harry rushed up to take her bag, and lost his balance. Pulled his Harry special and tripped over his own pigeon toed feet. Ada reached out to grab him and he fell face first into her cleavage. He knew his cheeks were red, well, if they weren't green. The motion angered his tender stomach. The croissant he'd hoped would calm his belly came up, he missed her cleavage, but it splattered, green and chunky all over her Gucci trainers.

He should have bought those, was his thought before they got covered in sick. "Fuck!" Ada screamed and jumped back from him. Just keeping ahold to keep him aloft but trying to get out of the way of his spew. He felt more than embarrassed, like when he'd got caught saying pussy on TV. But mom wasn't here to ground him this time. What a shit first impression! Only way out was through. He didn't even try a charming smile, the spit trail would ruin it. "Hi, sorry, I'm Harry."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #a premonition of love #apol #one direction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles imagine #japan harry

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extravagantliar · 5 years

Note

“ that should probably shock me, but honestly it doesn’t. ”

more misc memes // meme cache // selectively accepting

The city is sleepless, covered in diamonds even as the drizzle blocks out the stars above, this home is still a glittering gem.

He is sleepless in this city. He is sleepless in every city, for he’s not one to settle, one to always stir under the midnight lights and candlelit mornings. Hair, a mop of it ( grey and curling in a way that reminds him of his father ) is pushed aside with the last throes sleep and firmaments of dreams ( nightmares. nightmares. nightmares. ) from his body.

02:00am. 02 00am. 02:00am.

The clock blinks, and he blinks back almost hazy, almost surprised. Less surprised, more accustom to it than he should be. It’s easier now to push aside the blankets and sheets, to hear the quiet mew of Helvetica upset with how he stirs so easily these mornings. Spine arches into his hand as she stretches, one paw forward the others keeping balance. Even then, she settles back down, curling into the spot where is warmth lingers, and he is spurned to move.

Everything moves quickly, and the city is sleepless. At two am, CNN is replaying their eleven pm programming. Everywhere is sleepless.

His phone is not a crutch, but it is far more interesting than listening to some piece on a former mayor, and a former Ukrainian prosecutor. Social media is an outlet, an escape from all of this, from the sleeplessness, from the endlessness, and from the never-ending bustle through their daily lives. Pictures try to tell a story, they have words behind them, thousands of them, but sometimes they are lost and cast aside for something else.

It’s easy to click away from that app, from all of those apps. From CNN. From all of it.

There is an ache for something more, dark and troublesome — twisting in his gut, but he focuses for a moment more. Pulling himself from that overbearing abyss.

It’s almost to easy to click the screen black, to be plunged back into that cityscape of glittering diamonds and drizzle casting gemstones across his floor, daring to glitter around him with every step. However, he clicks back to his home screen, meeting the face of some of his best friends, too drunk in a too expensive bar. However, that is not what catches his eye — he is meticulous, no email or message goes unread ( perhaps unresponded to, but never unread ), it is the red bubble over messages that does. Thumb is quick to pull it up, to drench him in that artificial white light for a moment more — CNN still groaning on.

Sidria Trevelyan – • Hey! I know that you’re most likely asleep, but I wanted to wis… 01:51 am

02:23am. 02 23am. 02:23am.

A thought barely crosses his mind, skimming low and dancing through. Nothing wrong with talking. There are many things he’s privy to in her life: midnight snacks, their favourite haunts, and the fact that it takes both of them hours to get home. Nothing wrong with talking. Her name flashes once, and words fall flat — as a writer he shrivels, like a daisy in the heat. Her name flashes again, and he presses the phone button.

It rings. His heart pounds. It rings. And his heart pounds.

“Hello?”“Hello?”

“Sorry, it’s late.” He can hear the click of the lock, the deadbolt. She must just be getting home, finally finding some refuge.

“You called.” She counters him so effortlessly, tired but effortlessly.

They’re both tired, but responding. He laughs, low, tired, and with the rumble of thunder softly behind him. “You answered.” He barely pauses, it’s too late for that, too early, too much of something for all of this. The rain continues, pattering in time. “I couldn’t find what I wanted to say in a text.”

“That should probably shock me, but honestly, it doesn’t.” A disapproving noise, a playful one though, one she reserves only for him ( he’s heard it time and time before, over drinks and cramped into the back of a cab ). “What kind of writer loses their words?”

It comes out as a bark, a genuine laugh that dares to overtake the thunder in the sky, the horns of the city, and Chris Cuomo’s terrible takes ( no offence to his jurisprudence, but you can be Fordham educated and still be wrong, sorry Cuomo). “You’d be surprised, but there is this thing called writer’s block, and it happens more often than you think it does.” It’s easy to settle in, arm draped over the back of his couch as he listens to her hum at him — something in between of disbelief and weighing his metaphorical bullshit.

“Even in a text?”

“Especially then, I may have an unlimited amount of characters and messages, but one has to be incredibly nuanced in forming a proper text.” They slip into this comfortable conversation. He can hear her routine, and she can listen to his. This gentle intimacy from afar, from streets away, moments away. It’s a conversation that goes on too long, a conversation where everything is laid bare. She implies he’s arrogant, he agrees. He implies that she should read something more than his op-eds and puff pieces, and she disagrees. These have happened more frequently, between bumped noses and creeping hands, warm dates under a clear night sky, and now over the phone.

Less than sixty blocks away.

“Can I ask you a question?” It’s striking, pulling them from the polite conversation of before ( how the day was, what was on their respective minds, how are the people in your life ). “Why are you up at nearly three-thirty?”

In turn, he could ask the same thing, but he knows the answer, she was working and commuting — he’d been roused from sleep into the sleepless, a world cluttered with ghosts and glittering gems consuming the endless.

Nightmares. Insomnia. Addiction.

A lie, a flight, dares to bubble to the forefront of his always moving mind, however — if he were to fly anywhere he’d need to be on a train now, and he couldn’t bear to spin a story now. “You were up — and…” I didn’t want to fall into a bottle. It’s not a real fear, he drinks moderately now, he’s responsible, all the danger has long since passed. He’s comfortable in who he’s become, how he’s grown — but those old doubts sometimes creep in. “Do you ever get homesick for a place you can’t go back to?”

“I think we all do, Varric.”

“I guess I didn’t want to be alone.”

“I won’t go.”

There’s the pattering of the rain and the glow of taillights, eking in and playing over his bare feet like fire, daring to burn. It fizzles out, the glow fading before his very eyes. Light cannot be caught, no matter how hard one tries, it is fleeting and slips through fingers always intangible but always near. “That means more to me than you know.” A pause. “How about I take you to breakfast?”

“I thought you would never ask.”

#I woke up with the need to write something melancholic and beautiful #but here's my take on insomnia and varric in his modern verse ain't he a stinker #implied alcoholism cw #cw insomnia

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years

Text

EL AMOR TODO LO PUEDE Chapter 3: Didn’t See That Coming

You can read Chapter 1 and Chapter 2 using these links.

The crisis appeared to be over. Those who needed to be hospitalized had been transported to Med, and the people with minor injuries had been bandaged up. The building was going to take a bit longer to repair, but the pipe bomb that had exploded in the lobby of the Chicago Police Department’s District 21 headquarters hadn’t been severe enough to require the unit to move out. By 7 p.m., Sergeant Platt had sent everyone home.

Of course, most of the Intelligence unit was going to the hospital to visit Voight, who had been the intended target of the bomb. Fortunately, the bomb wasn’t very well made and, although he was closest to it when it exploded, even he had been several feet away. He was injured enough to be hospitalized but not injured enough to be quiet about it. He was furious both about the bomb and about the fact that the firefighters and paramedics from Firehouse 51 had given him no choice about going to Med. Halstead, Ruzek and Atwater were looking forward to giving him shit about it, even though Dawson had strongly advised them not to. He was going along to run interference when they made the mistake of trying it.

The day had been too long for Laura, however. She had spent the entire afternoon following the blast helping to triage injured people, clean and bandage wounds, and put the district station back into as much order as possible. As soon as she brought the damaged surveillance equipment down to the tech room, she was looking forward to an AA meeting and then a quiet night in.

She placed the heavy box of equipment onto the counter, calling for Mouse. She didn’t really expect him to be there. She hadn’t seen him since the explosion, and thought he had probably been involved in the investigation and the subsequent cleanup work. Most likely, he’d left when Platt told everyone to go home. As Laura turned to leave, she heard a scraping noise that seemed out of place. There was very little light in the room, since the electricity hadn’t been fully restored to the building yet. She’d been navigating more by memory than sight, but did have a flashlight with her. She flicked it on.

What had she heard? She didn’t think anyone was there and, given that it was a police station, wasn’t concerned that someone was lying in wait. But she was intensely curious. She went behind the counter and shined the light down the floor between the large shelves of electronics and other equipment in the room to the heavy table against the wall at the end. The table was long, with the shelves set against it on both ends so that there were spaces underneath on each side that were behind the shelves. Laura’s flashlight caught the edge of a shoe in the space on the left. Mouse’s shoe.

The moment she saw his shoe, she knew that Mouse was under the table in the hollow behind the shelf. And she knew why. Although she didn’t know him very well, it was fairly common knowledge that Mouse was recovering from some heavy psychic wounds as a result of his service in Afghanistan. Of course the explosion this morning had freaked him out. Laura had no idea what shape he was in, or what to do, but she knew she couldn’t just leave him there. She sat down on the chair in front of his computer and turned it toward the table.

“Hey, Mouse?” She said softly in the gloom. “I can see you’re back there. Can I help?”

He didn’t respond except to stretch his leg out, since there was no longer any reason to try to hide his presence.

“I guess, um, that explosion must’ve been… I mean, it scared the hell out of me. So I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for you.”

“I’ll be fine. Go away.”

Now it was Laura’s turn not to respond.

“You still there?”

“Yeah, Mouse, I’m still here. It’s just… I don’t really think I should leave you. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I definitely do not want to talk about it.” He sounded almost angry.

“OK. Do you want to talk about… anything? Because I could just sit here with you and not talk.”

She thought he had decided not to answer her, so she turned the chair around and sat with her elbow on his desk and her head resting on her hand, settling in. But he surprised her. Through the half darkness, his voice came quietly from under the table.

“You could talk. Just… I don’t want to think about what happened right now.”

“OK. What do you want to talk about?”

“Something else. Anything else. Just… talk to me, OK? Why don’t you tell me what it’s like to be Voight’s assistant or something.”

“Well… Let’s see,” Laura thought fast. “He dictates his reports, did you know that? It’s like seeing into his thoughts. I know he’s all guns and fists and everything but, you know, he’s actually pretty brilliant, too. You should hear those files. He sometimes forgets he’s dictating, and he’ll just start theorizing to himself. It’s fascinating. And then he’ll just pick up where he left off and start dictating again, without bothering to erase the part where he’s talking to himself. Interesting guy, Voight.”

No noise came from where Mouse was sitting, still entirely hidden from Laura except for one lower leg and foot.

“And he doesn’t edit himself at all. He leaves that to me. He’ll be like, ‘So I popped the bastard one,’ which I translate into ‘I used necessary physical force to subdue the suspect.’ I’ve always thought it would be hilarious to type what he actually says. I think the funniest one was when he said ‘and then the bloody fuckwad pulled a piece’, which I typed out as ‘the suspect brandished a firearm’.”

Laura spent the next fifteen minutes talking about things that had happened in the course of working for Voight. She told Mouse little anecdotes about funny things the detectives had done, made harmless complaints about the nuts and bolts of trying to keep a unit composed of such characters running as it should, anything she could think of to distract him from whatever demons were running amok in his head. She thought she heard a snicker once or twice, so she figured she was doing all right.

She was shocked to hear his voice come from the dark recess under the table. “Tell me about it,” he said. “Atwater cannot keep a concealed radio in one piece. Every single time it comes back to me in shreds. And don’t get me started about Ruzek and cell phones.”

“Ruzek should never be allowed to touch anything with an on/off switch. The man managed to delete an entire year’s worth of timesheets. He’s a menace.”

This time Laura was sure she heard a soft chuckle.

“Hey… Mouse… I feel kind of stupid sitting out here basically talking to myself. Do you think I could maybe come under there with you?”

The silence that followed seemed to suggest that she’d made a mistake.

“Or not. I’m OK here.”

“No, it’s OK. I guess I just didn’t expect you to ask that.”

“So can I come over there?”

“If you want.”

Laura slowly walked between the shelves to the table and carefully lowered herself to her knees. Leaning forward, she crawled underneath the table and into the hollow behind the shelf opposite where Mouse sat with his back against his shelf and his legs stretched out. He leaned his head back against the shelf and didn’t look at Laura.

“Huh” she said. “This is nice. Feels safe. I might start hanging out under here.”

When he didn’t respond, she began to tell a story about Kim Burgess losing an earpiece and thinking a friend’s dog had eaten it. Kim had come to Laura asking for advice about how to break the news to Mouse.

“She never told me that,” he said.

“That’s because she found it in her car.”

A companionable silence ensued. Laura thought Mouse’s body language suggested that he was calm but still not ready to deal with what had happened. He seemed comfortable as long as they stayed in this dark, enclosed, concealed space and talked about relatively safe things.

“I saw you bandaging wounds today. Didn’t seem like it was your first rodeo.”

“I used to be a nurse.”

He looked over at her. “’Used to be’? What happened?”

She sighed. “I used to be a drunk.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Yeah, the State of Illinois isn’t very forgiving when it comes to nurses who drink on the job.”

“Is that how you came to work for Voight?”

“Yeah. My old boss called in a favor. I owe both of them a lot.”

“Sounds like me. Jay got Voight to give me this job. Saved my ass. I was into some bad shit.”

“Well, all hail Voight, then.” Laura held out a fist and Mouse reached his arm out to bump it in the dark.

Mouse let out a mirthless laugh. “And now look how well I’m doing.”

Laura looked over at him. He shook his head and made a dismissive gesture with his hand, telling her he didn’t want to pursue the subject.

“Hey… are you hungry?”

“Huh?”

“It’s gotta be at least eight. You hungry?”

“I dunno. I guess. I might have a PowerBar or something in a drawer.”

She pulled out her phone. The screen seemed painfully bright in the gloom. “Pizza.”

“Not sure anyplace delivers to ‘the space under the table at District 21’.”

“No worries. We’ll get it delivered to the desk and I’ll go get it.”

An hour later, a near-empty pizza box sat between them and Laura was yawning.

“You could go home, you know. I’m not suicidal or anything.”

“You kicking me out of your fort?”

Mouse smiled. “No. I’m just… not ready for the world yet.”

“Me either. Would it be OK with you if I stayed?”

“Whatever. My fort is your fort.”

Near midnight, Mouse lay on his back with his hands behind his head, telling Laura about the men in his unit in Afghanistan. She was on her side facing him, head cradled on one arm. They both seemed to have forgotten that there was any reason to be anywhere other than where they were, talking together in the now-complete darkness. They had just let the conversation take them wherever it would. This was the closest they’d come to talking about the ghosts that haunted Mouse.

He talked about what it took to graduate Ranger school, and the different set of skills it took to actually function in active combat. At first, he told her about accomplishments he was proud of; technological challenges he’d overcome and successes he’d had in making something difficult work. Soon enough, that led to more painful tales about what he’d seen and done in Afghanistan, and how he felt about it.

And then he began to talk about the day his convoy had run into an IED and his entire world had been blown up with his Humvee. Laura was fascinated by the fact that he could have this conversation as calmly as he could, given what he had been through then, and what had happened just this morning. But she didn’t say that. Rather, she listened and responded as calmly but honestly as she could, thinking that it had to be good for him to be talking about this rather than just isolating himself in a hidden cubbyhole, letting it eat him alive.

It seemed natural that, after talking through the worst events of his life and their aftermath, Mouse was exhausted. The conversation ebbed, with each of them making a random comment now and then. After a lull of about five minutes, Laura suddenly realized from the sound of Mouse’s breathing that he was dozing. She smiled to herself.

She felt good. She hadn’t known Mouse as more than a casual work acquaintance before, and didn’t think he would ever have thought of her as a confidante, but she’d turned out to be the friend chance sent to him. And she thought she had done OK being there for him.

She also found herself really liking Mouse. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t the sweet, intelligent, thoughtful man she’d gotten to know here in a dark corner of the tech room. He was a fascinating combination: a little goofy, definitely geeky, and at the same time, a battle-scarred warrior from an elite branch of the Army. She’d noticed that he was really good looking, of course, but hadn’t given it much thought. She thought she was still in mourning for her relationship with Peter. So she was intrigued to find herself looking over at him, softly snoring a few feet away, and wondering what it would be like to date him. To kiss him.

She fell asleep herself, thinking about that.

The next morning, early, Mouse woke Laura. He said that he felt OK, and offered to drive her home to shower and change for work. She declined. She had a change of clothes in her locker, so she could just shower in the locker room. She preferred to do that so that she could get another couple of hours of sleep.

“Here?” He asked, a little bewildered.

“Sure. Why not?” She croaked sleepily. “Told you, I like it here.”

He shook his head. “Suit yourself,” he grinned.

“See you in a few hours,” she said, adjusting her position and re-closing her eyes.

“So, uh… Thanks for hanging with me. It helped.”

“Anytime,” she murmured, and fell back to sleep.

Huh, he thought. He just spent the night with Laura Parker underneath a table in the tech room. And she sure was cute when she slept.

#law & order svu #law & order: special victims unit #chicago pd #chicago fire #chicago med #chicago pd mouse #raul esparza #rafael barba #samuel c hunt

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