#sorry but i WILL be looking for triage parallels

[blue-grama]

Apropro of nothing except that I'm mulling over the 4 Minutes mysteries in anticipation of Friday, Great is really shaping up to be a really interesting main character.

First of all, Bible's doing such a good job playing him. He's cast as a rich criminal family kid again, but there's none of Vegas' swagger here, just overwhelm and the low-key simmer of mental breakdown at all times.

can't pay attention to this developing missing-person case because webmd didn't have anything on my 'visions of 4 minutes into the future' problem

And even though we didn't see much of pre-crisis Great, you already had the impression of him as someone floating through life: drinking his way to blackout the night before an exam, his mom planning to install him in the company where the family wants him without so much as looping him in. This really meshes with the passivity that we're seeing again and again.

Yeah SOMEONE might, if they were reacting appropriately to this situation

We're just two episodes in, but it's such an intriguing idea, that the protagonist's journey here might not be about overcoming a family tendency to crime or somesuch, but rather about overcoming his own ingrained tendency to do nothing. Sammon touched on this concept a little in Triage, with a disaffected Tin who stopped caring about his patients after his sister's death -- until Sammon stuck him in a timeloop, of course. But Great seems less disillusioned than Tin and more simply indifferent, and I'm excited to see where we're gonna go from here.

[sextonsharpwinhalstead]

Sorry girl, the last ask, well, really a comment complimenting your writing, was me. There was some type of glitch; the box was blank on my account, then I switched it to anon to see the same problem. I refreshed the page and forgot to change it back.

I can't help but see Crockett as a slimy playboy. I didn't read the writer's/showrunners' explanation. But I did watch an interview with the actor, and he was asked about Natalie v. April, and he said the character would go with Natalie. "April was an itch he needed to scratch," but he'd take the blame for the kiss instead of putting it on her. I am sure that note came directly from the writers. Rewatching the scenes, he just comes off as smug, and he enjoyed toying with her. That's not fun to see in real life, and it's gross on tv too. Now we can say maybe it was payback because he really liked her, and she chose Ethan, but still, eww. Then Natalie checks him, only for them to suddenly write him as some misunderstood guy with a tough past and a good heart, and Natalie is all about him. I hate when they do stuff like that. But April gets offered that stupid Sazarac or whatever it was that he offered all his conquests. I haven't liked his character since. I kinda wanted Choi to punch him 2 more times. Want to go there, then really go there. Make the whole ED uncomfortable with the tension. Like it'd be in real life. But no, Ethan quickly apologized to Ms. Goodwin, shed tears, and even sort of mended fences with Marcel which I thought was too quick, while Rhodes and Halstead were allowed to be angry for much longer about things which I thought was also interesting.

No worries! Lol

Everything after their kiss was GARBAGE. I hated it and wanted to scream the entire time. For me there was something really yucky about the way they executed both stories. There are parallels with both Mancel and Sexcel. Including both women challenging the facade he had. They just went a different route with him and April, one that didn't have to be executed like that even if they knew it was a going to cause a problem. They could've sunk their teeth into it but didn't. Because ultimately they didn't see her character as worthy of that storytelling.

Natalie and Crockett gave me the ick. Always have and always will. But Natalie seems attracted to deceit so...

They really oversold his so called blasé attitude and it began to border on egotistical when it came to April. It was overdone and the thing I have always taken away from it is that his ego was bruised when he found out she was with Ethan. She swerved him the first time he tried to be overly chummy and he worked on her for WEEKS. At any point Med could've wrote that he was seeing multiple women and she was going to just be another notch but they didn't and it is why his behavior after they kissed was so horrid. The closest we get to regret over his actions is at the wedding. And even then it's summed up with some raggedy lines from Natalie.

"You hit on April?"

Like no, he let April kiss him AFTER he knew she was in a relationship with Ethan. He was hitting on her BEFORE he knew she was in a relationship. Natalie knew that but they had her saying that waterdown line so they could pair the two without them looking more trife than they both were. Just ugh.

And it seemed like he was finally changing and then the mother/daughter nonsensd happened and I had to tap out at that point.

And yeah you're right. The way Med felt like Connor's playground because of his families money and how damn near every season Will is breaking the law and bringing drama into the ED but I can barely remember Connor apologizing for anything. Like when he punched his father at a hospital fundraiser. Just to end up loud AND wrong about Ava. Ethan on the other hand is the one Maggie ALWAYS calls on to de-escalate a fight, the one who set up triage when the mass shooting happened, the one who has taken all the interns under his wing and created harmony in the ED when its chaotic. I think that's why he was so upset. He brought all the violence into the ED and it rattled his integrity among the staff. It was sad. The other doctors are too egotistical, they wouldn't be crying.

[elspethsunschampion]

Thanks to @zomburai I commissioned this picture (which y’all you should 100% commission him for like everything he’s super talented and the nicest person EVER) and it matches up with a fic I wrote a while back SO HERE Y’ALL GO HAVE FUN.

                                             Coalition Victory

           It was over. Gideon wiped a sweaty brow, and then found himself sitting down, as his legs had decided they were no longer actually able to carry him anymore. How long had the Gatewatch been fighting? Hours, at least; it felt like days. But they’d done. They’d saved Ravnica.

           Niv-Mizzet, parun of the Izzet, drooping, bleeding from a dozen injuries, was curled up in the center of the square in front of New Prahv, while Selesnyans and Izzet alike fussed over him. There was blood on his jaws and a very satisfied smirk on his face; Gideon could hardly begrudge him that. He had been the one to deal the final blow, after all.

           Gideon’s head was aching, foggy with exhaustion, but he needed to check on the rest of the Gatewatch. He was their leader, and in the last few confused minutes, he’d lost track of everyone. As Nicol Bolas had risen, magic crackling from every pore, above the cityscape, as Gideon had thought for certain that even with nearly all of Ravnica working together, they were doomed—something had happened, Gideon still wasn’t sure what. He’d felt something like a static shock in his brain, heard an exclamation from Jace, and the mental connection between the Gatewatch had snapped. Moments later, Niv-Mizzet had burst from the roof of Nivix, barreling directly toward Bolas, and the machine Bolas had Tezzeret and Zarek working on had overloaded.

           It was the first time Gideon had seen Bolas shaken, and he had used that confusion to full effect, rallying the Boros and Azorius soldiers around him into one final charge against Bolas’s forces, breaking through their central line. Above them, the two dragons had fought, and, somehow, impossibly, Niv-Mizzet had won. Niv-Mizzet had won.

           After their loss on Amonkhet, Gideon had despaired. Bolas was so far beyond them in terms of power and intelligence—how could ever have thought they’d be able to stand up against him? But with Ravnica in danger, he’d had to fight. He knew that Jace would die to protect his plane, and Gideon wouldn’t let his friend die alone. And now—

           “Mage Jura, are you injured?” It was Lavinia, calm and collected as ever, although her cap was ripped and the side of her face matted with congealing blood.

           Gideon shook his head. “No, merely exhausted.” Staggering back to his feet took an effort. “Are—are you—”

           “It will keep,” Lavinia said. “There are others with worse wounds. I am attempting to organize triage.”

           She was always at their side, Gideon thought distractedly, the most loyal friend he could ever have imagined. “Lavinia,” he said hoarsely, and before he realized what he was going to say he had already said it, “may I kiss you?”

           For a moment, Lavinia blinked, her expression blank, and then a smile broke across her face like the sun rising. “I think I would quite enjoy kissing you,” she said, and she leaned forward. Gideon had no time to react before he found one hand on her shoulder and one hand on her waist; Lavinia’s hands rested on the front of his broad chest. She was tall, though not as tall as Gideon, but he didn’t have to bend far to reach her lips.

           Their mouths moved against one another for one long, sweet, breathless moment, before Lavinia pulled back, eyes bright. “I have to keep organizing the triage,” she said, “but perhaps we can continue this conversation later?”

           “Please,” Gideon said hoarsely, wiping the sweat from his forehead and tottering sideways. Then, “Lavinia—have you seen the rest of the Gatewatch?”

           “Chandra is with Nissa. I’m afraid Nissa’s leg is rather badly broken, but she will be all right once the healers have time to reach her. Ajani has been helping me organize the triage. I—I don’t know where Jace is. I haven’t seen him in hours.”

           Nor had Gideon. Before the battle had begun, the mind mage had said, “it will be better for everyone if no one knows where I am,” and vanished, although he had been close enough to coordinate things mentally nearly the entire time. “I’ll find him,” Gideon said. “I promise, I’ll—”

           There was a commotion in the center of the square. Zarek—the Izzet mage who had been working for Bolas—was dragging himself exhaustedly across the field of battle. In one hand, he held something long and silver that glinted orange in the light of the dying sun. His clothes were singed and ragged, and his head was drooping. Anger surged through Gideon, and he reached for his surral, but before he could do any more than take a minute motion in the traitor’s direction, he heard Jace’s voice.

           “Ral!” And for the first time in hours, Jace appeared. His arrival was heralded by nothing more than a slight flicker in the air, and it occurred to Gideon that Jace hadn’t been very far away at all; the whole time, he had probably been lurking on the fringes of the battle under cover of invisibility. Despite the fact that he had presumably not engaged in much physical combat, he had not escaped unscathed. There was mud caked up to his knees, and several dark stains decorated the arms and torso of his usually spotless blue tunic, which Gideon thought worriedly might very well be blood. Beside that, Jace’s face beneath his nose was half-hidden beneath a layer of bright red blood, twin heavy tracks originating at his nose and daubing his cheeks, mouth, and chin, and, even from here, Gideon could see that his face was chalk-white. But he was grinning from ear to ear.

           Even as Gideon watched, Jace raced across the cobblestones toward Zarek, who had turned as soon as he heard Jace’s cry, reflexively dropping the thing he was holding. Gideon’s mouth dropped open as Jace leaped off the ground and into Zarek’s arms, their lips meeting in a sudden, desperate kiss. Zarek swung him around and broke the kiss, but only for Jace to start kissing every inch of the Izzet mage’s face he could reach.

           Still a little concerned and rather confused, Gideon trotted in their direction, reaching Jace’s side in time to hear his friend half-sobbing, “Mother of storms, we did it, Ral, we really—really—we actually did it!”

           The thing that Zarek had dropped was an arm. Made of some kind of bright, intricate metalwork, it seemed oddly familiar, but it was a long moment before Gideon could place it. Tezzeret. It was Tezzeret’s arm, marked with filth and blood on both ends; this close Gideon could see that the front of Zarek’s tunic had been shredded, and he was bleeding from several long, parallel lacerations.

           Gideon cleared his throat. Although Jace deserved as much privacy as he could possibly handle, it was probably better at this point to clear up any lingering confusion or doubts over Zarek’s role in the recent battle. “Um,” Gideon said. “Jace?”

           Zarek let Jace stumble back down into a standing position, although the two of them continued to lean against one another in a deeply intimate fashion. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you,” Jace said. “I—I couldn’t protect all of the minds of the Gatewatch against Bolas, it was as much as I could do to shield me and Ral. Um, Ral, this is Gideon.”

           “Yeah, I think we’ve run into each other on occasion,” the Izzet mage drawled. “Literally. His fist was in my face a few days ago, remember?” So that was how Zarek had gotten away. The Gatewatch had raided his lab and captured him, and a few hours later, he’d been gone again, leaving behind a mind mage who swore he’d only taken his eyes off him for a few seconds. Gideon chuckled. “So, Jace, when you said he’d overpowered you—”

           Jace grinned shamefacedly. “I guess I wasn’t trying all that hard to fight back. Gideon, meet Ral Zarek, Izzet scientist, and the absolute best undercover boyfriend a Guildpact could have.”

           “You realize that’s going to be incredibly complicated now, right?” Zarek grumbled. “Did you have to kiss me in front of half of Ravnica, including Niv?”

           “Yup.” Jace leaned sideways and kissed him again. “I mean, yes, I did, this should take care of at least some of the dirty looks people are going to be giving you.”

           “So I get to trade assassination attempts on account of being Bolas’s stooge for ones on account of being your lover? Sounds fantastic.” But Zarek’s arm hadn’t left Jace’s waist.

           “Good to meet you,” Gideon said. “I suppose this makes you the newest member of the Gatewatch.”

           Zarek rolled his eyes. “It’s such a stupid name,” he grumbled. “I mean, what do you think the gates are going to do if you don’t watch them? Run off? Besides, I’ve been a member since before Ajani, you just didn’t know about it.”

           “That’s not when our plan started, is it?” Jace objected. “Hm. Maybe it is. I’m not sure, we’ll have to compare notes.”

           “At any rate, good to have you on the team,” Gideon said with a smile. “Although I’m going to want a full report on what just happened. Maybe not for another few days, though.”

           “Ugh. Jace, you can handle that.”

           “Oh, as if I’m not going to be swimming in paperwork? Thanks, Ral.”

           “If you do it, I’ll—” Zarek leaned down and murmured something in Jace’s ear, and the Guildpact went dark red from ear to ear.

           “O-Okay,” he said. “I suppose I can put something together.”

           “I think I’d better go help Lavinia with the triage,” Gideon said. “I’m glad to see you’re mostly all right, Jace. Maybe see a healer later, though, both of you?”

           Zarek glanced across the square at where Niv Mizzet still lay sprawled. “I think I’m going to take an off-plane vacation until that paperwork exonerating me comes through,” he said. “Jace—”

           “I can pop back in and file it tomorrow or something,” Jace said. “Gideon, you don’t think that will be a problem?”

           Gideon shook his head. “There will be a mountain of it to process. I’ll let Lavinia know where you are—where are you going?”

           “I’m thinking Kaladesh?”

           “Yeah,” Zarek agreed. “I’ve got friends there, we can get healed up and take a nice break with some artifacts. Artifacts that aren’t trying to kill us sound nice for a change.” With some viciousness, he kicked the metal arm on the ground beside them.

           “I’ll see both of you soon, then,” Gideon said, giving them both another warm smile and a nod. Wiping the sweat off of his forehead, he glanced across to see that Chandra had caught sight of Zarek and was standing up from where she had been crouched beside Nissa. “I’d—better go handle Chandra,” he said hurriedly. “Take care of each other.”

           “Oh, we will,” Zarek said, with a lazy grin. “Come on, Jace.”

           As Gideon set off at a low jog, he felt, for a brief moment, the heat-cold of the Eternities at his back. Well, he hadn’t seen that coming, but it had all worked out for the best. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a glimmer of cerulean, and he turned to see Lavinia giving him a smile and a wave. Yes, it had all worked out for the best.

[blue-grama]

A good man is hard to find

OK, so this is nonsense, but you know what keeps coming to mind when I watch 4 Minutes? Flannery O'Connor.

For those of you who have not ever been an American high school student, O'Connor was a Southern Gothic writer of fucked-up short stories, and possibly her most fucked-up (and most read) was "A Good Man is Hard to Find." PDF here, for spoilers abound below, and if you haven't read it, it's really worth the 20 minutes, sorry for the mental damage. "A Good Man is Hard to Find" is the story of a family getting meaninglessly annihilated by an escaped convict on a road trip. They're all awful people (parallel #1) -- the kids are horrid brats, the parents are ineffectual, and the grandmother, our protagonist, is manipulative, querulous and nostalgic for a "better past" (It's the American South in the 1950s. The past was not better.) It's a brutal as hell story and there's no hope of escape (parallel #2, quite possibly). In the moments before the grandmother is shot, however, she channels a moment of grace, seeing the deep, almost mystical connections between herself and her killer. (Who, by the way is known as The Misfit, which so fits Tonkla and his isolated existence as Korn's dirty secret.) This grace does nothing to save her, but it there's a sense that it deeply unsettles the killer, who comments, “She would of been a good woman, if it had been somebody there to shoot her every minute of her life.” (parallel #3, I'm looking at you, Pacharawit "Let me just redo everything as the oxygen runs out in my brain" Sriwatsombat.) Of course, I don't think 4 Minutes actually has anything to do with a 70-year-old story written by an Irish-Catholic from Georgia, other than in my own head and in the sense that every human has to grapple with morality and regret and our responsibilites toward one another. But I am very invested in where the writing of 4 Minutes comes down on morality and redemption. Is this Triage, with its infinite do-overs, or is it "A Good Man Is Hard to Find," where even the deepest of epiphanies can't save you? (And it's all sponsored by Durex... what a world.)