#the guns given to them to fight dangerous aliens is used to torture one of the architects of their suffering!

[stackslip]

[thirtysomethingloser92]

If The World Was Ending

Pairing: Daniel Sousa x Reader

Warnings: Angst, small smut scene, mentions of torture. “Daniel Sousa can’t lose someone else he cares about”

Daniel Sousa sat by the light pod, his own body covered in bruises and scrapes. His arms folded over his dark blue dress shirt that now carried a stain of your blood on it. A bloody liaison across his head, a purple bruise forming across his lower jaw. He was in pain, yet his eyes never left the steady rise and fall of your chest, because as long as that was happening, you were alive. You were safe and breathing.   He had been so close to losing you he realised, he had been so close to standing at your grave rather than sitting next to you in the light pod. The panic he felt in his heart when he watched you laying on the table, your eyes barely open and you barely conscious from the painful injections you were given earlier, the doctor picked up the scalpel and held it tauntingly over your chest; (“I just want to see what makes an inhuman tick,” Those words would never be erased from his brain, no matter how much he tried to will them away) was something he never thought he could feel, he was positive that it was strong enough that you could feel it even as you hit the ground. He emptied his own gun into the perpetrator, but it still didn’t feel like it was enough. It was barely enough that he was pleading for you, begging for you, to stay with him. That he pulled your almost lifeless body into his lap, brushed your hair from your face, and began talking to you. Him whispering what a pain in his ass that you were to him, he told you stories about the war, stories that he probably wouldn’t have told you any other time. Except now you were dying, evacuation was still a bit out, and he was terrified that someone he had come to care about so deeply would die in his arms. He smiled as Jemma came and checked on your stats, telling him that you were stable, and your wounds were healing. He smiled a little less when Daisy came in and stood by his side, telling him stories about The Battle of New York; she showed him videos on her tablet of you running around and fighting aliens. She tried to remind him that you were strong, and it would take a lot more then a crazed Hydra agent to kill you. He didn’t even bother smiling when Coulson came in, leaning against the wall and staring at the scene in front of him. “She’s a good person.” He began, watching you with soft eyes, “Her powers don’t define her. Despite what Ross says,” He continued staring, “I don’t know how much she’s told you about her past, but when I found her, she was on SHIELD’s radar. She can manipulate people’s emotions, she can read them; like a human lie detector,” Coulson shrugged, “As a result, the higher ups thought that she would be able to weed out spies, use her powers as a type of interrogation technique,” Daniel’s eyes barely left your body, but his eyes showed the sadness in them, “They wanted her for their own purpose,” Coulson nodded, “So I took her under my wing, trained her up, made her see that she was more than what they wanted her to be. She was so determined to prove her worth,” He gave a sigh, “Still to this day I think she’s trying to prove something to me. She doesn’t need to worry I trust her fully and completely. She has nothing to prove,” Daniel nodded, “She’s a good person. I’ve noticed that she seems more lighter since you’ve taken that bracelet off. More carefree,” Coulson nodded in agreement, “Ross wanted her contained for her original purpose, to help him interrogate those in the Sandbox and the Raft. The ultimatum was either wear the bracelet which would bind her powers until she agreed to work with him or work for him then and there and well, you know what she chose,” He looked down at Daniel who still looked worried at the woman in the pod, “She’s going to be okay. She’s dealt with blows like this before and she’s made it out,” “She stopped breathing,” Daniel swallowed deeply, “I was talking to her, and she just stopped. I tried-“ He swallowed the lump in his throat, “I tried to keep talking to her, I tried to revive her and I thought for a minute that she,” He shook away the tears that were welling in his eyes. Coulson continued to stare at Daniel, “You care about her deeply,” It was a statement rather than a question as he could see it on the other man’s face, the desperation, the need to have her eyes open, to see her smile again. He remembered those feelings with May, like a physical ache in his chest. Daniel stayed silent, neither confirming nor denying Phil’s statement. Instead his eyes just focused on the pod in front of him. “Did you want us to take you home?” Phil asked quietly, seemingly already knowing the answer, but asking it anyway. A small sigh escaped Daniel’s lips as he leaned back in the chair, making himself more comfortable as his eyes never left the chamber, “I’m right where I need to be,”

  You were so tired, every bone in your body ached in a way you never knew before, but you couldn’t focus on that as you stormed into your apartment; the sound of the familiar limping following quickly behind you. Your lips were cracked and split, ribs broken. You know that the man behind you didn’t fair any better, but you were so wound up in your head that you could barely comprehend the pain you should have been feeling at that moment. “Would you say something already? Get it out?” Daniel called out to you as you went to walk straight into your bedroom. Every part of your mind said to ignore him, to walk away and deal with everything in the morning when you weren’t so tired, and your body wasn’t screaming for relief. Your mouth, however, opened before your mind could even catch up to what it was doing. Walking away wasn’t your strong suit. “You screwed this whole operation up!” You stalked forward like a lion stalking it’s prey, “You were told to stay back, I had this whole thing handled,” Your chest was heaving and you could see his brown eyes watching your every move, making you abnormally hyperaware of every movement. His face was blank and that was what angered you even more; “I couldn’t leave you in there at the hands of Hydra. With what they were doing to you,” He said calmly. You scoffed and shook your head, placing your hands on your hips, “I had back up in the form of Daisy, of May, and Mack and Yo-Yo and Deke; we’re trained for this!” “What? Trained to be tortured the way you were?” “I’m a superhero Sousa,” You didn’t miss the slight flinch at the mention of his last name, “I’m an Avenger. This is what we do. We save the world whether we survive it or not,” The crack in his mask finally broke as he looked at you incredulously, “I knew a woman like you. She wasn’t a superhero, she didn’t have powers, but she was strong, and stubborn, and never knew when to ask for help,” You think you finally understood the out of time man as you shook your head and bit the inside of your cheek. You didn’t think that you were that bad, you always asked for help if you needed it- at least you think you did. “I get it, I do. You fell in love with someone back in 1955, and we took you away from that, your heart is broken. And I’m sorry that you were pulled out of your own time and you never got a proper chance with Peggy, I really am-“ During this speech, Daniel had turned around to face the front door, he looked as if he was taking a few calming breaths. You had never really seen Daniel get mad before, not in the few months you had known him. You had seen him argue back if he thought something was wrong or unjust, but you never had to watch him physically turn away and calm himself down. Daniel spun around quickly to face you, “See, I don’t think you do get it. Because if you did get it, we wouldn’t even be in this mess. You’re a superhero, like you keep calling yourself, but you have this habit of letting things get worse thinking that you have it under control and ultimately you end up paying the price when it goes south. It’s like you get a thrill from the danger” “You want me to apologise for that?” “No. I want you to ask for help when you need it! I want you to trust me enough to ask for help! You almost died out there,” He argued back, stepping closer to you, his brown orbs searing through your soul. You shook your head and threw your hands out, “Don’t even try to pin this on me, you heard the name Peggy Carter and you flipped. I had everything under control, and then you came barging in like John Wayne and nearly got us both killed,” “You don’t think I don’t realise that I screwed up?” He stepped closer to you, “But you’re wrong,” You tiled your head to one side, “No I’m not. You let your emotions get the better of you. You need to learn to let go of her. You can’t do that every time someone mentions her name,” “I didn’t do it because of her. I did it because I saw what he had already done to you and what he was about to do to you,” Daniel moved even closer, “You’re everything to me. If something happened to you, I couldn’t deal with that,” “Do you want to go home Daniel?” You whispered as he moved even closer again, his hand moving to ghost over your face. He shook his head, “Not anymore,”

  The kiss was burning, almost searing into your skin. His hands on either side of your hips as he tried to pull you closer. His tongue traced your lips,  hands slowly moving from your hips and touched your face, his fingertips moving across your soft skin a centimetre a second, barely touching your flesh as if you were something breakable, something precious, across your cheeks and behind your ears, moving down to your jaw and neck, across your neck under your jaw. You couldn’t help but to move your head back to allow him access to your neck as a breathy moan escaped from your lips. You felt the hungry opened mouth kisses, the scraping of his teeth against your sensitive skin as a louder moan escaped from your mouth.

You felt as he moved down, his lips on your chest, down the slopes of your breasts, his fingertips leading the way, brushing lightly around your breast, moving slowly, a centimetre a second. His lips found a nipple and gently closed on it, lifting it, before allowing it to drop back. His mouth continued to pepper your body, his hands reaching around your back and pulling you closer to him as he lowered himself to his knees.

His fingers moved down the outside of your legs, Goosebumps rising from your skin as his fingertips lightly traced your skin, around behind you knees before moving back up your thighs and to your buttocks. You almost collapsed on top of him from the feeling of his gentle lips and soft touches. You could feel the wetness in your underwear as he kissed your inner thigh.

You watched as he stood up, you giving him a slight hand, his fingers moving to his shirt buttons, one by one they were undone, revealing his chest to you. He slipped the shirt from his shoulders and let it drop to the floor.

Biting your bottom lip, your mouth suddenly went dry at the site in front of you. Of course, you had seen him in his white singlets, many times in fact, but nothing could have prepared you for the sight in front of you.

You reached for his belt, but he took your hand away.

His eyes never left yours as you cautiously reached out and touched him, his hands painfully slowly undoing his belt and kicking his pants off out of the way near the door.

He turned you around, so you fell easily on to the bed, his eyes watching your now bare body with almost animalistic glee. You watched as he removed his false leg and placed it by the end of the bed. You knew that by him doing that meant that he trusted you implacably. He wanted you to see all of him, and you realised in that moment that you think you were completely in love with the Agent out of time.

He stooped over you, and kissed you in the same, only just touching way, that he had done before. Soft almost imperceptible moans emerged from between your lips, your hips moved with a rhythm unguided by your mind.

"That feels so good." You heard yourself whisper as a finger slid between your wet folds soft and delicately.

His finger moved to your entrance. Your legs parted to allow him free access, but instead he chose to concentrate teasing it just a bit longer without venturing inside.

His finger entered you slowly until it was fully inside. Your hips rose as you arched your back to force him deeper

“Please,” You whispered, noticing the small smirk on Daniel’s face. As if he knew exactly the type of emotions that you were feeling.

He leaned forward, his lips once again brushing against yours, as his hand moved between the both of you to guide himself into your entrance. A sharp gasp escaped your lips as he rested his forehead against your own, his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of you contracting around him.

He began to move inside you, slow and steady at first, before his movements became harder, more exquisite. You continued to meet his pace as your skin started slapping together. Your hands moved up to his shoulders, nails digging in as a loud moan escaped his lips. He reached down once again and kissed you, this time so much harder than his previous times, this time was needy, desperate. As if he needed the comfort.

A large wave of emotion overcame your body, heightening the experience. The feeling of adoration, the feeling of feeling wanted and equally needed.

The feeling of love.

You wondered whether that came from you or Daniel, either way it made you climax harder than what you ever really had before. He must have felt it too, because as he pumped himself inside you his forehead came to rest upon yours, his chest heaving and his hands brushing your hair off his cheeks as he peppered your lips with kisses.

You don’t remember when he rolled over or when he wrapped his arms around you, but that night, you fell asleep feeling safe, secure and satisfied.

The days events had floated away in your mind as he pulled you closer to him, leaving no space between you.

“I can’t lose someone else I love,” He whispered, his breath brushing across your back, leaving goose bumps in it’s path.

You felt him press a small kiss into your shoulder as his thumb traced your hip bone and you closed your eyes, a smile gracing your face.

[rpmemesbyarat]

As someone in the Marvel RPC, I see a lot of “my character was kidnapped/created in a lab and turned into the perfect weapon” or “my character was captured by scientists because she was an alien/supernatural creature/etc and they wanted to study her” and inevitably, both involve a lot of gratutitous torture. The key word being “gratuitous”. Either due to wanting drama or being misinformed by popular media depictions of such things (Bucky Barnes, Laura Kinney, etc) the general assumption of fandom seems to be that scientists are basically sadists and that “experiments” are little more than exercises in how to cause their character the most pain possible. The thing is though, a lot of the reasoning for all this is. . . bad. And while canon ---be it Marvel or something else-- may do that, I would also like to discuss more realistic options and point out a few general mistaken assumptions or things people don’t tend to think of. - If a bunch of scientists are trying to create an augmented supersoldier, “perfect life form”, or whatever, that’s not an experiment, that’s a PROJECT. There is a big difference between the two. - Who/what is your character being created or augmented to fight? No one is gonna spend the time/money/effort to make a supersoldier just to have one around for fun. The enemy they are supposed to face or job they are supposed to do is going to influence EVERYTHING about the abilities they’re given and how they are “designed” not to mention how much independent thinking it’s practical to give them. For instance, for some jobs, being able to think and make decisions on their own will be a must, and that’s a risk. For others, there’s really no need to leave their free will intact if you can avoid it. Someone being “built” for espionage will be much different than someone being designed as a living tank. Likewise if someone is going to be sent into a desert environment versus expected to go for long periods underwater, and so on. Knowing what they’re designed to be going up against is CRUCIAL. - Why are living weapons the best option to fight this thing? Because generally speaking, there can be a lot more disadvantages to those than to guns and guided missiles and androids and shit. What about this enemy required a lving sentient supersoldier instead? - If a specimen is rare or valuable, it’s unlikely that it’s going to be dissected or otherwise treated in a way that will deliberately damage it. Your characters might FEAR that if they’re found the men in white coats might “cut them up” but this is actually unlikely. If scientists are trying to learn about something and it’s not a thing they can easily replace, they’re going to try to do so WITHOUT destroying or damaging it. The reason that real-life lab animals are treated so callously is because there’s lots of them, and we already know a lot about how they all work. When a scientist dissects a lab mouse, they’re not losing anything when it dies. If the first alien on Earth dies, or some super-soldier they worked really hard to create dies, they’re losing either a lot of potential information that can’t be gained anywhere else, or something they worked really hard to create and won’t be able to do again without a lot of time or effort. They are going to want to avoid that, and in this age of ultrasounds, X-Rays, and other non-invasive technology, that’s very easily done, especially in a setting where they probably have higher level tech than the real world if they’re creating super-soldiers and such in the first place. And they definitely have NO REASON to want to cut a specimen up ALIVE. - If their goal is to study a person or creature, such as the aforementioned alien, or a mermaid, or whatever else, they actually will probably want to avoid causing it stress. Stress causes behavioral changes as well as physiological ones, and if this is a never-before-seen or rarely-examined species/person, scientists will want to examine them in their default state first. Once they’ve learned everything they can about them in their “normal” state, then, yes, they may begin to deliberately induce stress to study what changes. However, they’re still likely to try to avoid damaging the specimen or inducing ill-health in it (which prolonged and/or serious stress can do) Again, the reason that regular lab animals get treated like their lives don’t matter is because THEY DON’T. Lab mice, dogs, etc., are just models for which to study humans most of the time and have well-documented behavior and physiology, they’re not rare or unknown creatures. So the approach is completely different. A literal or figurative unicorn would not be treated like that. - Likewise, if this specimen is something that was created (or augmented from an existing animal/person) it’s unlikely that the scientists are going to torture them, either for fun or through painful “tests”. Again, they don’t want to damage their hard work, either through physically wrecking them or through reducing them to a useless traumatized heap. It doesn’t matter if the scientists are mean cruel people without a bit of kindness or empathy, it’s impractical. If this being was created for a purpose, fucking it up (or turning it against you) defeats that purpose. And whoever is funding them isn’t going to be happy about that. And if whoever is funding them is the one who wanted to torture this creature/person. . . why do they need it to be specially modified or whatever? That really doesn’t make much sense, especially considering it’s virtually guaranteeing that this thing you have GIVEN SUPER POWERS TO is going to want to murder you. - Sure, it’s possible that one person on the staff might just personally be a sadistic bully or have a grudge against the character/creation even when none of the others do, like Kimura with Laura Kinney, but in all likelihood they’d be found out and fired. “But they take pains to hide it and erase security footage and--” Okay, if you really really want that, you can find a way to do it. Just know it’s not at all going to be acceptable procedure even in the most illegal of operations, not because it’s morally wrong but because it fucks with the product. And I would also ask yourself---if your character is already a lab rat, do they need to be tortured as well? Why? What does that add? Does it not feel “traumatic” or “dark” enough that they, a presumably sentient being, is already owned and imprisoned and kept from anything approaching a normal life? Why is that not “bad enough” to you that their story needs over-the-top torture as well? I’m not saying you can’t do it. I’m saying to think about why you’re doing it. Because a lot of times, in my experience, it basically comes down to cheap angst and sympathy points, often at the expense of, as discussed, logic. - “But they want to make them loyal out of fear!” Okay. That works only up until they get an opportunity to escape. Because if they’re afraid, they’ll take that chance. It’s true they might be too afraid to even try---that’s the case for many abuse victims---but I’m not sure that an organization wants to gamble that will be the case and risk losing their valuable asset the moment send asset is put in the field. And, again, risk the damage to them. This one is doable, you just have to be logical about it and think from the perspective of the people running things, not from the perspective of “what’s the most dramatic?” - “But it’s to brainwash them!” Brainwashing does not mean constant egregious torture that just somehow magically produces sudden loyalty one day. I know that tons of movies and comics have showed you this, but torture does NOT brainwash people. It actually makes people MORE resistant and hateful towards the people and group doing it. People under torture may confess to anything to make it stop, but that’s a short-term compliance and far from actually altering their minds in any way. It most certainly does not render them into obedient loyal sheep; typically the reverse, in fact. If you want to read more about this misconception and what the reality is, I’d check out these posts HERE and HERE and HERE which go much more in-depth and cite real-life sources. If you would like to read more about actual brainwashing, HERE and HERE . - “The torture is necessary for their training!” Again, this works to a point, but most people take it absurdly far in their depictions. Training is to build a person up; if it grievously injures or mentally traumatizes them, that’s counter-productive, as it decreases their usefulness. Being pointlessly cruel to your “living weapon” is just counter-productive. Training can certainly still be intense, and even un-ethically or dangerously so, but if it crosses into just coming up with ridiculously over-the-top ways to make the character suffer, it’s too OTT and clearly for angst-fuel, and most readers will probably roll their eyes because it’s just ridiculous after a certain point. Here are some good articles from SPRINGHOLE.NET relevant to this topic: Things To Know If Your Character Will Be Augmented Or Experimented Upon Things About Training & Teaching Writers Need To Know Tips For Writing Dark Stories, Settings, & Characters Pointlessly Edgy Tropes To Reconsider Using Basic Tips To Create Better Characters With Tragic & Traumatic Backstories Note that this is not to say that your lab rat character cannot have been mistreated, abused, or otherwise traumatized by their situation. Indeed, it would be unrealistic if they were NOT, since treating a sentient being as a tool under the control of others and having them commit violence, even if they do so “willingly” because they don’t know any better, is an inherently traumatic thing. But because it’s inherently traumatic, the unrealistic torture porn is just that much more unnecessary and frankly kind of silly. It’s also lazy, and the ways that many writers go about make no actual sense, as has been discussed. Going back to examples from Marvel, a favorite little-known X-Men character of mine is Darkstar, aka Laynia Petrovna. Laynia and her twin brother Nicolai were mutants born in the USSR. They were taken away by the state at birth, and raised by government scientist Professor Phobos in a “school” (read: facility) for super-soldiers. They were trained in combat and taught to be loyal to the USSR above all else. They were also told that their parents had abandoned them (when in fact their mother died in childbirth, and their father was told they had died too) and were NOT told that they were siblings, instead being given different surnames so that their familial loyalty would not supersede their loyalty to the Soviet Union. It wasn’t until they were adults and discovered their bio-father during a mission that they ever found out they were related. Yet, despite this, and despite occasionally joining superhero teams in the USA (Champions) or aiding the X-Men (X-Corps), Laynia has remained loyal to her country first, though she has often turned her back on its government (though she has returned to serving it now that the USSR is no more) What I really like about Laynia’s backstory is how different it is from most “I was raised as a weapon” stories in that it lacks overt abuse or trauma. She seems to have been treated just fine, she was never tortured, there was never shown to be any needlessly brutal training or treatment of her and the others, etc. She was raised to be a loyal servant to the state, and she was treated in a way that would actually facilitate that, and IT WORKED. So many scientists/trainers/etc in fiction seem to think it’s a great idea to treat your living weapon in ridiculously over-the-top violent, abusive ways for no real reason (except, of course, THE DRAMAZ) and will often be portrayed as insanely sadistic towards their pet projects…even though that’s obviously the LAST thing you would want to do with a valuable asset that you wanted to be loyal to you and have no desire to escape or turn sides. And as I said, it WORKS with Laynia. One of her biggest and most constant struggles FROM THE START is her loyalty to her country, versus her own conscience when she’s asked to do things she finds questionable. She also finds out again and again that she’s been lied to or manipulated by the people in charge of her, and sometimes she’ll defect, but she always ends up back again. And while she’s angry at the things that government asks her to do to others, or has done to others, she never really questions what was done to her. We never see her actually being like “holy shit, I was kidnapped and brainwashed and exploited and I’m really fucking angry about this!” like so many characters in similar situations realize (and often very quickly despite supposed brainwashing; even when still “loyal” they’re usually portrayed as hating their captors) And you know why? Because, again, what was done to her WORKED. Like she has a MOMENT in the issue where she finds out her real history and vows she won’t blindly follow a government ever again, but…she still sticks with the USSR, then Russian, government. She may not be “blindly” following, but she doesn’t seem ever able to leave them for long either. And her brother Nicolai/Vanguard strays even less than she does. And the writers never focus much on this. There’s never been a story that focuses on Laynia’s mindset or giving her a journey that helps her grow in any way or even just examines all this. Partly I think that’s because she’s so minor and has never had a story IN GENERAL that focuses on her. Partly I think it’s because writers just aren’t INTERESTED in a story like hers UNLESS it involves all the dramatic grimdark “tortured test subject” cliches, and they assume readers aren’t either. But I think this does a disservice to readers. One of my pet peeves, perhaps my MAJOR and BIGGEST one, about abuse in fiction is that it is ALWAYS portrayed as BLATANT and EXTREME, committed by people who are OBVIOUSLY monsters and who act like said monsters 24/7. They might get a shallow charming veneer to fool people, but the victim and audience both know that under that they’re un-nuanced, two-dimensional demons. And some abusers are like that. Some abuse is super extreme. But lots of abusers are much more nuanced, and lots of abuse is far for subtle. If only the most extreme types of abuse and abuser are portrayed, that’s all people learn to recognize “real abuse” as being. And real-life victims of abuse already have enough problems feeling that they weren’t “really abused” or “abused enough” to qualify. So I think stories like Laynia’s are important, and they’re worth exploring. They don’t treat abuse as torture porn, something to lingeringly emphasize to the audience in every gory detail for sheer shock value even when it makes NO SENSE for what the abuser is trying to accomplish. Instead, her story makes sense for what the government and its scientists employees were trying to do, and it has an accordingly realistic effect on her that manifests in a far less subtle but no less meaningful way than dramatic “media portrayals of PTSD” cliches. And it’s a story I’d be interested in seeing more of and finally unpacking fully, if any writer ever steps up to the plate ready to treat it with the sensitivity it deserves. Not every story of this sort needs to be like Laynia’s. But not every story of this type needs to be like Logan’s either. Figure out what works best for your character, question why you want it and what purpose it serves, and just make it make sense.

[need-a-fugue]

We Grow Together (29)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tessa Sullivan (OFC)

Chapter Summary: Tessa finally learns what Lobe has in store for her people...

Summary: Relationships can be tough, especially when one person is a recovering-from-being-brainwashed-and-tortured former assassin and the other is an overworked mutant scientist. But hey, every couple has their struggles. Right?

“That smells awful,” she tells him as he takes a seat across from her, setting down his mug in the process.

“It’s peppermint tea,” says with a smirk.

Tessa scrunches up her nose. “That’s disgusting. Be a man and drink some coffee.”

Cal lets out a smooth sort of chuckle as he leans back in his chair. “Nah. I gave up coffee a while ago. Too many jitters.” He cocks an eyebrow at her. “Maybe you should try tea too.”

She gives him an odious look. “I’m not jittery.”

“Okay,” he drawls out amid a sardonic laugh.

“I’m not,” she protests. “What the fuck?”

“See that?” he points at her. “That is irritability. Still working too much and never sleeping?” he asks with a knowing smirk. “You should at least try to stop drinking coffee after four.”

“Thanks for the advice,” she deadpans.

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. In a low voice, he asks, “Want some more advice?” She simply stares ahead at him. “Back out of this meetup with Lobe.”

“Why?”

He shakes his head, dropping his eyes to avoid her glare. “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

“Cal – ”

“No,” he interrupts, looking up and jerking his hands into a silencing posture. “What are you doing?”

There’s a very real, very palpable tension in the air that throws her off. She’d been trying to block out his energy ever since he sat down, not at all interested in reliving old times by pulling in his… essence. But she couldn’t block out the unease he was putting out now. It was a sort of anger and apprehension in one, perhaps a bit of hostility too. She looks up at him with confused eyes. “Why are you so mad?” she asks without thinking.

“Mad?” he repeats, face turning stern. He leans in even further and hisses out, “I know you’re not looking for another job. I know that Stark just asked you to run some new division.”

Taken aback, she asks, “How do you know that?”

He scoffs. “People talk, sugar.”

“Well, that doesn’t mean I’m taking it. I figure, now’s a good time to look around and see if there’s anything… better out there.”

“Better than being on the board of what is arguably the single most powerful corporation in the world?” He gives her a skeptical stare. “Bullshit.”

“You don’t know me,” she replies, sounding every bit the petulant child. “Not anymore.”

He simply smiles in return. “Yes I do.” His eyes narrow as he continues to stare her down. “Now what are you up to?”

She looks away, leans back with her coffee cup in hand, and turns her gaze out the window to the passersby on the street. With a long sigh, she mutters, “How bad is it?” When Cal doesn’t respond, she turns her eyes back toward him, sees him shift uncomfortably in his seat. “What’s he doing, Cal?”

“He’s trying to create the Third Species,” he says without preamble.

For the briefest of moments, Tessa’s breath is taken away. The Third Species. It’s something that Xavier had taught them all about. When she was still a child, she had read John Sublime’s bizarre manifesto about worthy humans who could attain special powers by reaping them from enhanced individuals. These men and women could choose the abilities they believed they deserved… and then steal them from others. From mutants. In Sublime’s mind, mutants were nothing more than some sort of crop, something to be harvested and broken down and consumed for the benefit of others. It had turned her stomach that someone would think that way. And it had given her nightmares to realize that his ideas had sparked a sort of cult following.

During her time in the X-Men, there were at least two instances when they encountered these followers. They’d dubbed themselves the U-Men. And while they certainly played the part of dangerous, radical extremists, they did not ever seem to have any sort of special powers, despite claiming that they one day would. But what if they were right? What if they could harvest mutant powers and use them to enhance themselves. That sort of thing wasn’t exactly out of the realm of possibility. After all, Dr. Sublime had been a participant in the Weapon X program that had turned Logan into the Wolverine… and the Super Soldier program that had successfully created Captain America from a sickly, spindly Steve Rogers.

“He’s part of the U-Men?” she asks hesitantly.

Cal almost laughs. “Those lunatics? No way. This guy… he’s way more dangerous than a bunch of dorky zealots.” He raises an assessing brow. “He’s a businessman. And he recognizes an opportunity.”

“To give people… super powers?” Her voice goes high at the end, taking on a disbelieving and almost fearful tone.

“Look around, sugar,” he says, falling back into his seat. “Ever since aliens invaded our planet and your boss put together a band of merry gentleman with superpowers of their own to fight it… everybody wants to be… better.”

Her brow furrows as she states, “That’s not true.”

“Okay, not everybody. Some people want everyone with super powers to be eradicated.” She gives him a horrified look and he smiles at her gently. “What happens every time there’s another mass shooting in this country?” he asks. When she doesn’t respond, only twists her face in confusion, he goes on. “People either want to ban all guns… eliminate the threat. Or they want to arm themselves to the teeth so that they can fight fire with fire.” He reaches across the table and lays his hand on top of hers. “People are scared. And they want to be able to protect themselves. Now more so than ever. And in this day and age – when aliens attack and robots plan a genocide and the number of mutants born everyday is on the rise… and now inhumans? People are looking for more than just a conceal and carry license to protect themselves and their loved ones.”

She sits with that for a long moment before shaking off his hand and sitting upright. “So he’s taking Sublime’s plans for creating the Third Species and he’s going to try to make it a reality. And then he’s going to sell it,” she states, no question in her words.

Calvin nods. “He’s already got a team of four scientists working on it. Two geneticists, including Scofield. And two bioengineers. The plan is to attack the problem from both sides.”

“Because Sublime believed that tissue transplantation would cause the genesis of mutant powers in the host,” she extrapolates.

“And there might be some validity to that,” he continues. “At least that’s what the bioengineers are saying.”

“But really, the best option would be gene therapy.”

“Which Sublime was unaware of in his day,” he supplies. “So Lobe’s thinking that between the two disciplines he can accomplish what that other lunatic couldn’t.”

Her features darken and her hands wrap so tightly around the mug in front of her that her fingers go white. “Where is he getting the… materials?”

Cal breathes out slowly. “I’ve brought him a few black market items. Ones I’ve managed to acquire through old contacts.”

She closes her eyes and tries to fight off the sudden swell of nausea. “Because you’re in acquisitions.”

“Everything’s still just getting started,” he assures her. “They’re only running preliminary tests… or something. I know they aren’t into any trials yet.” He pauses and a shadow flits across his face. “It’s only a matter of time before they start looking for candidates.” She looks up at him and he hesitates before saying, “For harvesting.”

Tessa nods her head, the movement growing more insistent as she thinks about what’s been said. And what needs to be done. “So we have to shut him down,” she mumbles, mostly to herself. “We have to make sure it doesn’t get that far.”

He reaches across the table and takes hold of her wrist. With his other hand, he wrestles the coffee mug from her grip and then holds tightly to both of her hands. “I promise you I won’t ever participate in anything like… that.” With a serious look and a more intense squeeze, he says, “But I don’t know that you or anyone else can stop this train.”

She pulls away harshly, her eyes suddenly shooting around the café cagily. “How can you say that?”

“It’s the times we’re living in, sweetheart. Look around you.”

“So I should just stand by and do nothing? Just let some… some human use my people for profit?”

He laughs bitterly. “Your people? Give me a fucking break.” He gives her a disgusted look. “When was the last time you even talked to your people? To your family?”

“That’s not…” she starts, losing the words to defend herself almost immediately.

“You’ve been hiding and denying who you are for so long…” He scoffs loudly. “At this point, I’m more in touch with mutants than you are.”

“God help them, then,” she issues out angrily.

“Look, you want to finally stop pretending you’re something you’re not, great. Go for it. I, for one, think the world could use Supernova right about now.” She visibly flinches when he uses the name. Supernova. An alias she hasn’t heard nor spoken aloud in years. “But I’m telling you, for your sake, stay away from Lobe.”

She leans across the table, positioning herself mere inches from him. “I won’t let this go,” she says. “I will bring him down. So I’m telling you, for your sake, stay out of my way.” And she rises and storms out of the café.

[oceanera12]

Winter Soldier!Steve

I don’t see enough of this AU

And when I do it is ALWAYS Stucky So let’s take a different route on this bad boy, shall we?

First movie follows the same story line up to the train section.

Don’t know how and don’t think too hard about it because AU but somehow Steve is the one thrown from the train, not Bucky--

BUT

Bucky isn’t Steve. Because when Bucky “dies” Steve breaks down and cries. 

When Steve “dies” Bucky stares at the point where his friend fell in shock as he realizes he’s failed his friend. His stupid, punk, friend who survived getting beaten in back alley’s, illness inducing winters, allergies, the deaths of both parents, and a freaking government science experiment. His friend is gone and all he has left of him is a metal frisbee.

Yes, he is sad. But he is mostly ticked.

Zola is found by Barnes before the other Commando’s because Barnes rips off the flipping door, grabs Zola around the neck and starts choking him (and almost kills him), but the Commando’s manage to snap him out of his death rage and Zola is taken in (albeit very afraid and very bruised)

After some “interrogation” Zola admits to Barnes having a variant of a super soldier serum from his time experimenting on the soldier. Stark looks into it, confirms the fact, and suddenly Barnes finds himself in charge of the Commandos and is given Steve’s shield.

He agrees to do it on ONE condition. In the public reports of the incident, Captain America is still Steve Rogers and will always be Steve. If anyone asks, Bucky died on that train, not Steve because gosh darn it, Bucky is not going to let his friend fade into the background again.

Bucky and Peggy have a friendship and an understanding between them. Whatever happens next is for that little guy in Brooklyn.

Bucky makes a very ruthless Captain America. He does his job with efficiency and speed. The Commando’s back him up whole heartedly.

The movie plays out pretty much the same with the Red Skull fight and Bucky getting on the plane (he doesn’t kiss Peggy, geez), and then going to crash the ship in the ocean.

The radio call is different. In the call, Bucky makes Peggy swear to tell the public it was Steve in the plane. This was Steve saving the world, not James Barnes. “Because that kid saved me before he saved anyone else.”

Then he asks Peggy to tell him about how she first met his punk brother. She obliges, tears running down her face. She doesn’t know when Barnes was cut off but by the time she was done the radio had gone dead.

Seventy years later, SHIELD pulls out a frozen Captain America. Most everyone is confused when the man is brown haired, not blonde, and upon closer inspection they find whoever this is, it is NOT Steven Rogers.

Fury pulls up the redacted reports and very old, very disclosed files before finding the truth about Captain Rogers and that the person they have found is Sergeant James Barnes.

James doesn’t bolt out of the hospital room SHIELD staged. He points out the inconsistencies, the radio game being wrong, etc, then sits down and basically asks when they are going to start torturing him for information.

Fury comes in, tells him he’s been frozen and when Bucky doesn’t believe him, Fury takes him on a tour around New York City.

Bucky requests if they release anything on Captain America being found, to say it was Steven Rogers, who is now being very recluse and does not want any attention.

Avenger’s plays out slightly different. 

For one, Tony and Bucky don’t butt heads as much. Actually, Tony thinks Bucky is Steve Rogers at first (he still really doesn’t like Steve because of how his Dad talked about him) and is extremely confused when James takes off the mask and introduces himself as Sergeant James Barnes. Then Tony backpedals on that information and does his own research on it. Tony’s the one who finds the SHIELD weapons, James is angry at Fury and actually sides with Tony

For another thing, Bucky doesn’t get along with Thor very well. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a stupid blonde but it’s just bad memories.

Nat and Bruce are fine with James, as is Clint when he comes around.

Everyone beats up the aliens and Loki and it’s a win, win.

In between movies, Bucky hangs out with Tony to catch up on modern day (because Tony really likes watching him be confused/learning pop culture and James needs it because what are these references?) Bucky tells Tony about the “real” Steve. The kid before the shield. I wouldn’t say Tony loves Rogers now, but he definitely understands him better and has a little more sympathy for the guy.

This is important because Winter Soldier is up

Bucky meets Sam while running. Sam doesn’t know who he is at first until they are introduced, then kind of confused because isn’t Barnes dead? But he doesn’t bring it up and leaves it at that because this guy is clearly suffering from PTSD and a soldier not used to being home.

Mission with Black Widow, goes to see the giant battleships in the sky, and Bucky isn’t Steve. But he also knows this is a bit much/extreme for a constant military station so he doesn’t support the project because, yes there are aliens. So why are we looking at threats on the planet and not in space???

Bucky calls Tony and chats with him for a bit about it (he feels uncomfortable talking to Peggy because it’s not fair that Steve doesn’t get to see her). Tony points out the pros and cons of the project and cracks some jokes. Overall, not extremely helpful but helps clear Bucky’s head a little.

Nick is attacked, runs to Bucky, Nick is “killed” and Bucky chases after the killer. Similar roof scene (*note: I don’t know if Steve has the metal arm. If he does, I’m thinking it’s the right arm, not the left. Don’t know why, just think it should be that way if it is) and Winter Soldier vanishes

Okay, so-- Fury says to not trust anyone. And Bucky sure as heck doesn’t trust Pierce. But I feel like Barnes is more trusting than Steve (I’m serious, the Winter Soldier experience just threw that trait out the window). So Barnes trusts Widow enough to actually leave her with the drive and not put it in a vending machine (also tells her not to show it to anyone-- which she doesn’t.)

Just going to say the movie carries out the same for the most part (including contacting Falcon) EXCEPT--

When Bucky pulls the mask off Steve he calls his name out and we still get shot at and captured. Rescued by Maria Hill, find Fury, etc, etc.

THEN Bucky calls Tony Stark from a payphone, who’s confused as to why Captain America is wanted on the news. Bucky tells Stark about Steve. Tony probably doesn’t believe him at first because, “Hello, Barnes? He’s dead. Has been for a long time. You hit your head or something?” But Bucky explains and suddenly Tony finds himself diving into old S.H.I.E.L.D. files and reading up on Soviet science experiments from the cold war.

Also, Tony comes to help blow up the carriers because heck to the no, Hydra is not using his technology, no siree.

So Falcon and Stark are flying around the carriers and taking care of goons, when Falcon gets shot down Stark goes after him and when everything is falling apart, Stark tries to get close to Barnes to grab him, but can’t because of the big guns.

Meanwhile in the Bucky vs. Steve fight, we get the whole “trying to kill one“ another thing, but I feel like Bucky is way better at pushing Steve’s memory buttons and Bucky is a little more willing to punch Steve because he knows Steve wouldn’t want to kill him. So Steve figures out “wait, I know this guy” just before they hit the water.

When they crash in the water, both are semi-conscious and they are found by Stark who flies both to his compound and calls the doctors to come work on these two sad super soldiers.

Now Steve doesn’t remember everything. But he knows that: One, Hydra is going to be after him if they find out he’s still alive. Two, these people that helped him either knew him or know of him somehow and he really doesn’t want to hurt them. Three, his name is Steven Rogers and the punk from earlier is James Buchanan Barnes.

So Steve pulls a him and goes, “Nope, not putting you in danger” and the first chance he gets he flees Avenger’s tower and disappears into thin air.

Thanks, Steve. Thanks a lot.

Age of Ultron, nothing really changes. Tony is also looking for Steve and Bucky is a little more on top of things and tells Tony that Steve might have had something to do with his parent’s deaths but he’s not 100% sure.

Civil War. Okay, bear with me for a second because I can see Bucky actually being Pro-Accords. Not one hundred percent of the actual document but the idea behind it because “yes, people need to be held accountable for their actions” but also “you can’t save everyone no matter how hard you try, trust me I know that better than everyone, but that doesn’t mean you just sit there and do nothing because some government people tell you no, you can’t get involved.” (Basically Black Widow’s stance on this whole thing)

So when “Steve” bombs the accords, Bucky knows that’s not him and tells Tony as much (who doesn’t believe Barnes completely, but willing to give him a chance because of the past) and since Bucky technically signed the accords he has more pull in what happens to him and Tony is way more willing to listen.

Which means Bucky and Tony track down Steve in that apartment with actual permission to do so, on the condition they take the “Winter Soldier” into custody.

I’m not really sure what happens after this because Tony is going to find out about his parents, one way or another. Maybe Bucky’s stories about his old friend will keep Tony from trying to kill him. Maybe they won’t. Who knows? Heck, Zola may not even make it through the front door because Bucky is allowed to talk to Steve as the “therapist”

So end this AU however you want, I think it’d be pretty accurate. I’m just going to say the Accords got thrown out the window and Bucky and Tony start helping Steve recover from Hydra. Yay!

[reddeadmort]

ArthurxF!Reader where they have twins together. Mama and twins go to store but end up getting kidnapped by O'Driscolls or Lemoyne Raiders. Normally, she could handle them but they've taken the kids and are using them as leverage for her participation. Not only does the gang go crazy but Arthur is just on a rampage. Please and thank you!

Kidnapping, violence, and rescuing? You know that’s my jam 😂.

This was getting really long, so I’ve actually ended up splitting this into two parts, don’t worry, the ending should be going up tomorrow! 

This could easily be a continuation from “There’s something about Mary” - I’ve re-organised my masterlist to put the stories that kind of relate together for your reading pleasure. 

Went with O’Driscolls for this one, to me the Lemoyne raiders are too dumb/disorganised. Also, the long-running feud helps the plot. Enjoy!

Arthur x f! Reader | “We’re off on an O'Driscoll hunt” | Part 1

Guidance: Bit of fluff with the kids, violence, kidnapping, torture/threats of (not against reader). Arthur is actually only mentioned in this one, but will feature heavily in Part 2.

Words: 3.3k

You didn’t like having to take the wagon into town. It was slow and cumbersome, not particularly well maintained. But, when you had the twins by yourself, you didn’t have much choice. You couldn’t safely carry both of them on your horse, and there was no point dragging Arthur along for such a mundane little trip; he had more lucrative matters to attend to.

4 or 5 years ago, you would never have considered that you’d be doing such domestic things as taking your kids for new clothes and a haircut. It seemed insane; one day, you’d be robbing a train, husband at your side, while the next day you’d be dealing with two screaming children, both upset that they had the other one’s shirt on, despite them being the exact same shirt. You did often feel a sense of guilt when you left them behind to go on a job; after all, you might not come back. You always tried to push the thought from your mind, reminding yourself that you could quite as easily die from something far less exciting in or near the camp – illness, accident, animal attack.

But still, you felt that little pang, and whenever you were returning from being away, the thing that usually filled your mind was getting back to them. You knew Arthur felt the same way; ever since the twins were born, he spent far fewer nights away from camp, only when he had to. Where you could, you tried to only have one of you away from camp at a time – the kids always slept better when one of you was there to curl up next to. Thankfully, with some persuasion, they would also sleep in Abigail and John’s tent on the boar skin rug Arthur had made. You were so grateful for Abigail and John; without them, you and Arthur would never be able to get some top quality alone time.

The sounds of arguing pulled you out of your daydream.

“What are you two doing? Stop it, right now!” The twins were squabbling on the seat next to you; you knew you should have sat one on either side.

“But it’s my stick! I wanna it!”

Where the hell did they even get that from? Sighing, you leaned over, and took the stick from them, with some resistance.

“Come on now, we’re nearly there. It won’t take long, and if you’re both good, we’ll go see the sheep like I promised, okay?” Your tone was soft but forceful, accompanied by a look that said don’t push it. Even after these years, your ‘mum’ voice still felt strange, alien; like it wasn’t you that said it. Your words were met with some muffled muttering, but the twins settled once again. They confused the hell out of you on a daily basis; they hated being apart, even for 5 minutes, but always wound each other up when they were together.  

You stopped the wagon next to the Valentine stables and unloaded the kids. First stop – haircuts. They were starting to look like John, and as much as you loved him, the man didn’t have a clue how to groom himself. Shorter hair was much better for your life, much easier to keep clean. You weren’t even going to attempt cutting their hair yourselves; you had many skills, but giving a good haircut was not one of them.

The trips to the barbers and the general store were mercifully short, and the children were actually on best behaviour, albeit a little bored when being shoved into various clothes to see what fitted. They must really want to see those sheep you thought. You loaded your bag onto the wagon, then turned to look down at the kids – they were waiting for those magic words.

Smiling, you sighed slightly, and rolled your eyes in an over-exaggerated manner. “Come on then, let’s go see the sheep!”

The kids squealed and, pausing to check there was no one coming, ran off across the street between the buildings towards the auction yard. You grinned and started after them; you were glad to see they had stopped to check for any horses or wagons, but had no idea where this sensible side had come from. It certainly wasn’t from you or Arthur!

When you got to the mouth of the alley, you couldn’t see them at the end, but you didn’t worry; they knew exactly where they were going, and you would be able to see them as soon as you reached the end. Still, you quickened your pace slightly.

As you stepped out, slightly blinded by the sun, you were about to call their names when you were grabbed from behind and a hand clamped over your mouth. You were about to fight back, elbow this brute in the stomach, when you saw your kids in front of you. You breathed in sharply as your adrenaline surged at the sight of your twins, hands clamped over their mouths, knives to their throats.

“Now, Mrs Morgan, dontcha go makin’ a noise now” a low voice whispered in your ear. “Or, well…. let’s say your little happy family will get smaller.” The words were almost snarled, each one dripping with hatred. Your kids were in shock, stood perfectly still, too frightened to even cry.

“We need to have a little chat.” The man growled and dragged you backwards into the backroom of one of the shops. Your heart sank when you saw even more men; 3, you could have taken, as long as you got them separated from the kids, but 6 was far too many. You recognised a couple of them as O’Driscolls; the others you didn’t know, but Colm’s men typically didn’t survive for any length of time.

You were shoved roughly down onto a chair, the hand over your mouth finally releasing, but only so that you could be tied down. You complied, letting them pull your arms behind you, and didn’t make a noise, even when the rope cut into your wrists as it was pulled tight. The men with your kids had followed you in, knives still at their throats; as soon as you were secure, the knives were removed and the kids roughly gagged before having their hands and feet tied. What kind of animals tie up young children! You were practically screaming in your head, but still, no noise came from your mouth. You weren’t going to give these bastards any excuse.

“Right girly.” The man who spoke was inches from your face, and you could feel his warm breath on you, the stench filling your nostrils. “Sorry, I mean….Mrs Morgan.” He spat these last words at you, spittle spraying your face. This was why it was dangerous to have a family as an outlaw. Too many things they could use to get to you, too easy to provoke a dangerous gut instinct response.

“We need ya help. See, we want some of that money that’s in the bank. Except we don’t want the law thinkin’ it was us, see? And when we found that you lot were set up nearby, well, that’s just a gift” the man sneered at you.

So that’s what they want, the bastards. To frame you, the gang; even if you didn’t get caught, as soon as the Pinkertons caught wind of your description they would be all over this area. You’d managed to lay low for so long, deliberately avoiding causing a fuss in Valentine, persuading Dutch to take a closer look at each score. Without any solid leads, the Pinkertons hadn’t had the cash to chase you past Blackwater, especially after a few years had passed; it wasn’t exactly the life you wanted, moving between different camps in New Hanover, but the latest camp at Horseshoe overlook was comfortable and pleasant.    

“So, sweetheart” – those words made you shudder involuntarily – “you’re going to help us rob the bank. And Joe here is going to hang on to yer kids a little way out of town while we do so. You do exactly as we say, and we won’t harm a hair on their heads. We’ll even let you all go runnin’ off back to Dutch, give your pathetic little group a head start. ‘Cause we’re nice like that.” That last part made all the man around the room laugh.

“Agreed, girly?”

You gave a slight nod of your head, still not daring to say anything. The man in front of you chuckled.

“Oh, I forgot, you weren’t given permission to speak. Yer a good little girl ain’t yeh? I can see why Arthur likes you.” He patted the top of your head mockingly, like a dog, as he spoke. “Come on girl, speak, there’s a good girl.” This bastard was going to die slowly.

“Fine. I’ll help. But I don’t want to get shot because of one of you dumb bastards.” You weren’t expecting the slap, and it was powerful, almost knocking you and the chair over. You spat on the floor, clearing your mouth, before turning your head back.

“Now there’s the fightin’ talk I was expectin’. Dutch’s gundog not tamed ya yet then? Maybe you need a real man” he leered at you. You kept your mouth shut; across the room, you could see your kids had finally started to cry, and they reminded you that you had to tread carefully.

“Right, let’s go. Joe, you take the brats to the meetin’ spot. The rest of you, cover up and get your guns ready.” Your kids were picked up roughly by the backs of their shirts and bundled out of the room. You tried to call out to them, to reassure them, but before you could a hand was over your mouth again.

“Naa deary, don’t you be goin’ and callin’ attention to us now.” You swallowed and took a deep breath when the hand was removed. You were cut free and dragged to your feet. Your hand went to your pistol at your side, a movement which was immediately greeted by 5 guns pointing at you and the click of hammers being drawn back. You slowly pulled your hand away, lifting it above your shoulder.

“I was just checking my gun” you said slowly, carefully. “Kinda hard to rob a bank without one.”

There was a pause, until the leader laughed and lowered his revolver, prompting the others to do the same.

“Fair, girly, fair. But know that for every injury we get, one of your precious little kiddies will have the same thing done to it.” Where did Colm even find these bastards? You didn’t exactly run with nice men, but none of them had ever been cruel or stupid enough to threaten a child.

You followed them out the back, desperately hoping to catch any sight of your kids, but they were long gone. As you crept up the side of the bank, you went to pull your bandana up over your face, only to have it ripped off.

“Nice try sweetheart, but we want them to recognise you.” You gritted your teeth; no going back now.

You were pushed to the front, one behind the leader, and stayed behind him as you all burst through the doors.

“Get your goddamn hands up, this is a goddamn robbery! Nobody move!” he shouted. You went into autopilot; this wasn’t exactly your first time robbing a bank. Thankfully there were few customers, and no one was stupid enough to go for any weapons, just got on the ground nice and quick. You recognised the general store owner’s daughter, and you knew she’d seen you too.

“Y/N! Mrs Morgan! Unlock the damn door” the leader shouted as he threw you some keys. He really wanted to make sure you and the gang got the blame for this. You unlocked the door as the terrified teller stumbled backwards in front of you. One of the O’Driscolls pushed past you and grabbed the poor man, striking him and throwing him towards the vault door.

“Open the goddamn vault, open it!” he screamed at him. When the teller didn’t move quick enough, he screamed at him again. “Son of a bitch, too goddamn slow!”. The panicked teller pushed the heavy vault door open and the O’Driscoll kicked him forwards into the vault. You followed - you wanted to prevent him from being killed if you could.

“Open the damn lock boxes!” The O’Driscoll yelled at him, pushing his gun against the teller’s forehead.

“I.. I…. I don’t know the codes! Only the manager does!” You jumped forwards as the O’Driscoll pulled back the hammer of his revolver.

“WAIT! I can crack them, it won’t take long. Don’t kill the poor bastard. It’ll only draw attention to us.”

“Fine, but hurry up!” The O’Driscoll knocked the teller out with a swift hit and instead pointed the gun at you. “Here’s a little motivation for ya” he sneered.

You made swift work of the safes, this was something you’d done many times, and a lot of these small town banks often used only 2 or 3 codes for all their lockboxes anyway. As you emptied each box, you threw the money to the O’Driscoll behind you. As soon as you cleared the last one, you hurried out, following the men out of the bank to some waiting horses. You jumped on behind the leader, clinging to the saddle, concentrating on not falling off as the group thundered out of Valentine. How the hell there was no-one following you, you didn’t know; these dumb bastards weren’t exactly subtle.

You soon slowed down at a small camp, not far away. Your heart leapt as you saw your kids, still tied, but safe; you jumped off the horse and ran to them. You’d only gone a few paces when a rope caught you by the leg, slamming your face painfully into the ground. Before you could turn over, hands were on you, tying your hands behind your back and your feet together, pulling off your gun belt. You struggled, cried out, and saw your kids attempting to do the same, tears once again streaming down their faces.

“Now, girly, you didn’t think we was actually goin’ to let you go did you? Two of our new lads are going to go and hand you in the Sheriff, say they saw you runnin’ away. They’ll probably even get paid” the leader laughed, turning you over.  

“You goddamn bastards” you said as you spat in his face. “What are you going to do with my kids!”

“Don’t you worry, we ain’t gonna kill ‘em. Oh no, these two will fetch a pretty penny. We’ll stick ‘em on a train out west, there’s always people needin’ workers that won’t..can’t…. run away. Or there’ll be some rich family lookin’ for replacements.” Your heart almost broke at the thought of never seeing your kids again. It would kill Arthur; he couldn’t lose the children, not again……

You were gagged, tied to a tree and could do nothing as you watched the O’Driscolls ride off with your crying children. Your only consolation was that you knew there were no more trains coming through for one or two days, as a flood had damaged one of the bridges. Maybe there was still a chance…..

A couple of hours passed as two of the men waited with you, as instructed. They laughed and joked, had a drink, thankfully completely ignoring you. It hadn’t taken you long to realise they had neglected to remove the knife strapped horizontally to the back of your trousers; you’d moved it there as soon as the twins were tall enough to grab at it when it was strapped to your thigh.

As quietly as you could, you edged it out of the sheath a small amount, and started to saw at the rope around your wrists. It was not a quick process, and you definitely cut your hands and wrists more often than the rope, but eventually the rope slackened enough for you to free one arm. Your shoulder screamed at you as you levered your arm, hand clutching the knife, from the ropes tying you to the tree. It only took one cut, and you gently lowered the rope to the ground before quickly freeing your feet.

The two men were far too engrossed in some dirty pictures they were showing each other to notice you creeping up behind them. In one fluid movement, you slipped the knife up between the first man’s ribs, directly into his heart, before immediately pulling it out, spinning it and slamming it into the next man’s shoulder. Screaming, he fell to the ground, hand reaching for his gun; as he fell, you pulled the knife out and slammed it into his hand, pinning him down. You were going to take your time with him; you needed information.

You kicked him in the face as his free hand tried to go to the knife; before he had a chance to try again, you pulled his own knife from his belt and drove it through his other hand, leaving him pinned to the ground, spread-eagled, screaming.

“Right. Now you’re going to tell me exactly where you’ve taken my kids, and how many men are there. Otherwise I’m going to start cutting bits off of you; you’d be amazed at how much flesh a man can lose before he dies.” 

The man stared up at you, terrified. You’d never felt rage like this, never felt such a strong desire to cause pain.

“If you’re quick about it, I’ll even let you go. You’ll need to hobble, mind.” 

Without waiting for a response,  you started to yank one of the whimpering man’s boots off, and walked over to his fallen friend to retrieve yet another blade.

“Stop! Stop, please…..” You turned to see he was actually crying; how some of these boys ended up in this life you’d never know. “I’ll tell you! Please…..”

“Hurry up then” you said as you strolled back over, squatting beside his feet, reaching for the one you’d pulled the boot off.

“It’s an old ranch not far from here!” He could barely get the words out, they were so rushed. “It’s our main camp, there’ll be about 30 men.”

“Now that’s what I needed to hear.” You rested the knife on his big toe as he blurted out the rest of the directions. “Anything else you’d like to tell me?” You pressed the blade into his skin, making a small cut.

“NO! Please….there’s…there’s a maxim gun in the barn, in the loft. There’s always someone on a tower near the front, but they can’t see behind the barn.”

“There’s a good lad.” You stood up, sheathing the knife; it was a bit nicer than your one, shame to leave it behind. You walked over to your gun belt, putting it back on, before pulling out your pistol and pointing it at the prone man’s head.

“You said you’d let me go!” he screamed, tears running down his face. It was a pathetic sight. But he’d helped take your kids. And he wasn’t going to get away with it.

“So did you.”

The shot rang out through the woods. You quickly calmed one of the horses, mounted up, and started galloping back towards your camp, making sure to avoid the main road through Valentine. There was still time, still a chance; but you were going to need all the help you could get.

[nemetonisevilpassiton]

Where we’re going we won’t need Eyes to see - a teen wolf meta

With Teen Wolf meta we have this tendency to name check Event Horizon (1997) and run off without explaining it - especially in regards to the episode “Ghosted” where they were in Canaan which uses a lot of the same techniques and tropes. But before I explain how Teen Wolf got there we have to explain Event Horizon.

A friend of mine once called Event Horizon the greatest horror movie almost made, and that sums it up nicely.

Following the success of Mortal Kombat [1995 starring Linden Ashby] the studio gave give the director Paul WS Anderson [the Resident Evil guy] a budget of 60 million dollars, the large soundstage at Pinewood and Carte Blanche to deliver an R rated horror. The film he delivered was 121 minutes long and X-rated. It was externally editted down to 91 minutes or 96 minutes depending on region and legend has it that most of the narrative exposition went out of the airlock. As gory as it is - and it IS - it was much much worse and it’s entirely possible that this studio inflicted hatchet job is the reason Event Horizon has the cult following that it does.

Anderson did not waste a dollar of the money he was given, everyone in the film is a noted character actor and most of the dialogue makes them feel real [with the exception of one distinct line which is just hilariously bad]. The ship was a set [there is minimal cg and it’s bad as you’d expect for 1997 but it’s things like a floating water bottle] based on actual gothic architecture specifically notre dame. The crew of the Lewis and Clark [the rescue ship] is seven people because they were meant to represent the seven sins - maybe in the longer version they did. The “stranger” in their midst is Doctor Weir, who following the suicide of his wife whilst he built the Event Horizon, became obsessed with the ship is the one who wants to bring it “home”. The shot of the rotating space station where Weir is based was a miniature. As most of the effects were practical, as opposed to CG, they stand up to modern scrutiny.

The film was a critical and commercial bust, but over the years since it’s release it’s been insanely influential on the field of Sci Fi being responsible for IPs such as Warhammer 40k, Deadspace and even the Alien franchise [which Anderson dipped his toe in with Alien vs Predator] and is considered one of the greatest Lovecraftian horrors ever made.

Event Horizon is not a great movie, it’s…. I’m one of the people who adore it, as scary movies go it never fails to make my skin crawl but let’s get into the plot.

The Event Horizon was an attempt at FTL travel, instead of going really fast it punched a hole through the universe creating a worm hole that would allow the ship to exit somewhere else with a device called “the gravity drive”. On its test flight it vanished. Seven years later it reappears where it should have with no crew and only a mild distress signal. Weir (Sam Neill), the original creator takes the crew of the Lewis and Clark, a rescue ship captained by Miller (Lawrence Fishburne), to bring it back.

On finding the ship the youngest member of the crew, Mr Justin (Jack Noseworthy), goes into the drive room in full EVA and is dragged into the black liquid at its heart. He is rescued by Cooper (Richard Jones), but when they confront Weir he denies it’s possible despite that they could not have known what to describe. Justin is comatose. They find a recording of screams which has a latin phrase which DJ (Jason Isaacs) translates as save me. The med tech Peters (Kathleen Quinlan) starts to see visions of her son covered in sores. Weir starts to see his dead wife as she was when he found her but with empty eye sockets. The ship starts to pull at their sanity damaging the Lewis and Clark, Smith (Sean Pertwee) refuses to leave the Lewis and Clark and in the middle of that Justin gets up and puts himself in the airlock, setting it to open.

All of the characters are shown to have a dark history but because of the editting we often don’t know what that is. We know Peters has left her terminally ill son because of her visions. Miller tells us about a crew member he had to leave to die in a burning ship. Weir has his guilt over his wife, but the rest was cut.

They find the ruins of the old crew with a tape showing them dismembering themselves and each other and it turns out the translation wasn’t save me but save yourself from hell. Fans have actually translated it more accurately as save yourself from the fire.

Miller comes to the conclusion the best thing to do is go home and blow the ship from orbit but Weir refuses to go. He takes one of the explosives from the nave hallway and blows up the Lewis and Clark and Smith, this sends Cooper into space [where he has the worst line in cinema, seriously https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aUozFOlxVnM] and Miller and Starck [Joely Richardson] confront Weir on the bridge where he has ripped out his own eyes. DJ is found disembowelled over the medicine table. Distracted by Cooper’s return Weir fires a rivet gun at the ship’s window causing the decompression to suck him into space. Miller tries to use the explosives along the nave corridor to separate the ship from the gravity drive which he considers the source of his evil but he is separated from his crew by a burning man who turns into Weir. They fight, the corridor explodes and Miller is sucked into the black hole.

There is a gotcha ending where Starck sees one of their rescuers as Weir but wakes up screaming before the very ominous door closing.

So what happens? what is the one sentence synopsis?

See that’s where Event Horizon sort of wins. On its surface the ship went to hell and became alive and is now luring people in and trying to drag them into Hell. Except even within the movie that explanation doesn’t make sense. The characters talk about the lack of good air, that they are running out of air and it turns them on each other to an extent so did anoxia cause the hallucinations combined with the very gothic imagery to create a mass hysteria? Is it a pseudo Catholic vision of Hell where the characters unable to deal with their own guilt at ultimately tortured? Maybe? Was it all of the above? I don’t know. Other people have amazing explanations of what happened and here’s the reason why Event Horizon freaks some people out and others are meh, it’s not that easy.

It has holes and contradictions and huge chunks obviously missing. It has a narrow focus and it never lies to the audience, it misleads them by assumption but it’s consistent. Weir is the hook character we expect to be the hero, he is the outsider amidst the crew of the Lewis and Clark, he is the one with the answers and the refusal to see alternative answers. He has the most fleshed out back story but he turns into the human manifestation of whatever is going on with the ship yet he is the one who becomes the face of the villain. The ghost apparitions are genuinely disturbing. The quality of the acting could carry a much weaker script. The effects are excellent and the gore is astounding, and best shown briefly [although production stills are available if it was too quick for you]. The Lovecraftian questions are presented and NOT answered. They are isolated in a place where they are in constant danger and the hallucinations mean even their thoughts are unsafe.

Did the ship go to hell? Or was it an explanation Weir made up when he broke? Or is this a purgatorial nightmare where Weir is sent out to fetch more victims for the ship? Is he repeating this ad infinitum with this crew or is it a new crew every time? Is the she Weir speaks of the ship or the manifestation of his wife, Clare?

The film doesn’t answer any of these questions. They are all valid ways to see the movie. And based on Anderson’s filmography the reason that these all DO work is because the film was butchered like one of the ship’s crew.

Recently they found a copy of the uncut film in a salt mine in Transylvania so maybe we’ll see it.

But people who take it on surface value that the ship went to hell and is now evil wooo, generally just dismiss it as poor. It is clearly a mishmash of things Anderson thought was cool instead of deep, sets are so Alien inspired that the xenomorph could pop out of any of the lockers and no one would be surprised. The ship’s set is so gothic Dracula could be drinking tea in the med bay and it would make perfect sense. Yet it somehow, probably despite itself, works.

So back to Teen Wolf.

Event Horizon clearly had its shadows over the production and it’s in the ambiguity more than the cinematography [which owes its debts to Silent Hill]. What Event Horizon managed by accident [Anderson couldn’t have pulled it off deliberately] Teen Wolf tries.

Every character in Teen Wolf, no matter how minor, has a backstory but it is not one we are necessarily given. They have their own stories which intersect with the story we are being told. If we look at the chimera, for example, we saw Tracy’s complicated relationship with her father, we saw Lucas and his boyfriend, Corey, and Corey before we knew he was a chimera told us about Lucas. Caitlyn’s girlfriend Emily was taken by the Darach but she was nervous about her first time having sex so Caitlyn tried to make it special for her. This makes the characterisation rich and this one of the complaints about the show. We learn as much about someone who gets murdered five minutes later as we do about the show’s mains. Beacon Hills feels real because the people in it feel real.

Teen Wolf offers a surface answer which does not hold up to scrutiny - at all -ever and which is often ridiculous. @Sublimeglass refers to this as the show vs tell, Teen Wolf tells us one story and shows us quite another. Solutions to problems are often best guesses with the information that they have and are often contradicted seasons later as characters learn more.

The main character is presumed to be the hero but by the end is very clearly the agent of whatever it is that is going on that wants conflict - however defining that very clear presence in Teen Wolf is like getting rid of glitter, you know it’s there but you’re never going to get it out of the carpet.There is clearly an evil presence, and it is clearly in the water, specifically the lake beside Lydia’s lake house [which Lorraine set up a mountain ash barrier to protect her from] but the character’s don’t know it’s there. I am not saying that Scott is evil or villainous in this - that’s a very different meta - but instead that he is continuing the war that existed before him. He is recruiting a character like him to carry on the story. He is repeating the cycle like Weir sacrificing another crew to the ship.

One of the arguments with EH is that the ship is freeing them from “the fire” which is light and energy, which is complicated, basically that our universe with its physical reactions is Hell, and that by removing the flesh [I did mention Hellraiser was a huge influence, right, and the video game Doom 3] you could be “free”, and there is a similar idea in Teen Wolf where characters try to escape the detriments of flesh - Gerard looking for a cure for his cancer, the dread doctors extending their life, the attempts to build a better beast for their own immortality, the leonmensch trying to capture the Wild Hunt.

Yet if you reduce Event Horizon to “the ship went to hell and is now evil” the two do not match but both are phantasmagorical.

Phantasmagoria is where one or more reality might not be real but is instead a dream/hallucination that is indistinguishable from reality, and thus brings the “reality” in question.

In Event Horizon this is several dream sequences, Weir and Starck both have nightmares whilst in stasis. This means when Clare starts appearing to Weir and the child appears to Peters we are primed to know they are not real and this knowledge means we’re primed for a scare even when the subject is not scary, such as Peter’s visions of her sick son.

In Teen Wolf we have several sequences that are not “real”: Scott’s visions of the school bus attack; Stiles’ visions of the bandaged figure; Scott’s dreams of killing Liam with the mute. Then we have sequences where reality is much more loosely defined in Motel California - where the characters hallucinate - and Ghosted which is the most obvious point for the Event Horizon characters.

We also have flashbacks which are subject to the “Rashomon effect” where several variations of the same narrative are shown and the whole is unreliable [the Fox and the Wolf, Blitzkreig and Visionary] What we are shown in Teen Wolf is only slightly more reliable than what we are told, and the telling is from Scott’s point of view - although it is unclear if it is only the last episode, the last season half or the whole show which is narrated. Personally I think it’s the whole. Either way Scott is an unreliable narrator. We cannot trust the narrative as it is presented even if it didn’t openly contradict itself.

The Lovecraftian parallels have to be mentioned even if when it comes to writing Teen Wolf meta I find him popping up like a particularly obnoxious infestation. Combined with that is the heavy influence of Hellraiser [3 metas later I am quite confident that Hellraiser was involved] and the whole is unsettling if not disturbing or scary.

The visual language of Event Horizon is medieval gothic, with columns, long empty corridors, flourishes and twists and the ship itself is a cross based on Notre Dame. In Teen Wolf colours have meaning, characters have symbolic associations [although unlike the intent for Event Horizon they do not represent anything as overt as the seven sins. They reveal the characters but not general themes.] Each of the first five seasons has a symbol which is represented by Godai, Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Void [if six has one I haven’t cracked it yet but it is probably the ethereal or the other] and the cinematography is certainly as deliberate.

I can’t just end this meta because it’s one of those as soon as you see the movie you can see the parallels because they’re pretty much laid out on a plate but the two are so different that unless you sit down and think about it you’d never consider it.

I can’t say that Beacon Hills is a phantasmagorical town that exists outside space and is poisoned by its proximity to Hell - but I can’t say it’s not either because of the ambiguity and contradiction. I can’t say Weir is a victim driven mad by his own guilt or the ship possessed him because of the same contradictions.

Event Horizon managed what it did despite itself. Teen Wolf might have done the same.

[freyjcsx]

                   *・ﾟ — [FREYJA SKJEGGESTAD] is a [33] year old [HOMOSEXUAL] [CISFEMALE] that was born on [NOVEMBER 15TH]. [SHE] live(s) in [MANHATTAN], but they’re originally from [OSLO, NORWAY]. They are a [HEIRESS] for a living, and often get told they look like [KATIE MCGRATH].

                            — hello ghouls!! my name is jared r, i’m 19 20 years old and i never learned how to read. i’m excited to plot and write with all of you!! this is freyja and she is honest to God a mess, someone save her. i would truly adore plot with all of you - so come hit me up if anyone would like some plots! if you prefer that, just hit me up on discord too !! i will def be sliding into some DMs as well, too, so like this post if you won’t mind that!! local nerd thinks aliens are going to invade earth, more at 9 /finger gun/

Triggers; Death, Violence, Alcohol, Torture (Brief mention), Abuse (Brief mention).

  You want a better story. Who wouldn’t?

 A forest, then. Beautiful trees. And a lady singing.

            Love on the water, love underwater, love, love and so on.

 What a sweet lady. Sing lady, sing! Of course, she wakes the dragon.

      Love always wakes the dragon and suddenly

                                     flames everywhere.

Am I just a creation of my upbringing? My monstrosity but a trait, the blood permeating my veins but a poison. My lungs were bound to rotten with my first intake of air. Or am I the apple that fell far from the tree? The abnormality none dares talk of, a grim shadow lying in wait. Sunk in debauchery, afloat in a sea of destruction. The whys and hows matter little, in this narrative. No use delving deep into psychology, or theories. There won’t be a sympathetic insight into my life. After all, there’s no pity for the wicked. I am what I am, no lamentable excuses or justifications will change that.

On occasion, one finds oneself immersed in dark waters; trouble.

Freyja Skjeggestad understands enough of human nature to perceive her morals; nor black nor white, but shades of grey. Most are darker than others, more prominent. Some are hardly noticeable, but the danger is still unmistakable. In hindsight, it should be said her morals are questionable, simply put. There is no wrong or right, for Freyja. Sides are of little importance, as the only side she cares for is her own. A selfish greedy little thing, with only her well-being in mind; she doesn’t partake in any activities if she is not gaining something out of it. Freyja is easily buyable, and that’s where the trouble is; her loyalty is not worth a penny, at the end of the day – Not if someone pays better for it. Betrayal is part of Freyja’s nature; it’s in her blood, her instinct. She is a Skjeggestad, after all, and leaving people behind is what they do best.

She remembers her childhood all too well.

It was a chilly November night when Bertrand Skjeggestad came running into his villa drenched from head to toe, pale and shaking in fear. The man’s steps were careful, not daring to disturb the ghostly silence plaguing the hallways, almost tangible. Droplets of water flowed down the glass panels, and particles of dust danced in the air when he opened the door of the master’s bedroom, relief apparent on his face. His darling wife sat on the blood-stained bed, trusted maids and guards watching the scene with wide eyes. In the woman’s eyes, disgust could be found. Gently, he retrieved the cold bundle from her arms, a finger touching a rosy cheek. “Oh, dearest Freyja,“ he whispered, ”look at the mess you’ve made.“

Freyja Alexandrine Skjeggestad shed no tears, during that chilly November night. No cries or whimpers left the newborn’s mouth, causing the assigned names and nurses to watch the baby with bated breath. Freyja, in turn, remained motionless, taking in her new surroundings. The heavy layer of silence was shattered only when morning came; a piercing cry woke staff and residents alike, all rushing to the nursery. “What a strange child,” some dared whisper, cowering and scattering when lady Astrid Skjeggestad entered the room, accompanied by her nurses. The child’s cries subsided when her mother picked her up, but there was no warmth in lady Astrid’s eyes when she gazed at her daughter.

”‘Tis just the Skjeggestad way, dearest,“ her mother clicked her tongue one evening when she saw tears being too well in Freyja’s eyes, her hand holding her daughter’s chin, nails breaking the skin. “You are a Skjeggestad, Freyja. Behave like one.”

There’s no love in a Skjeggestad’s household. Only money. And, oh, they had plenty of it. A fortune, enough to last for generations to come. Freyja was doted on and pampered all her life, given anything she could wish for. Clothes. Cars. Houses. Boats. Planes. People. With a snap of her fingers, the world could be hers. Or, it was what Freyja used to think. Her attitude was of a queen, thinking people should bend to their knees when she passed. “I’m going to inherit my father’s fortune,” she bragged, a smug smirk decorating her lips.

It is safe to say Freyja didn’t have many friends. The closest friend she had was Scott Connelly, the oldest son of her father’s right hand. They weren’t tight, but they would hang around often, and they had a silent agreement of having each other’s back, always. Scott stayed by her side even when her father sent her away, to study. The truth was, Freyja’s reputation was sinking her father’s stocks; her dalliances with random women, her drinking and drugs, and parties – It was not good for the company. She resided in countryside France for a year before she had to return home.

   I can tell already you think I’m the dragon,

           that would be so like me, but I’m not. I’m not the dragon.

     I’m not the princess either.

When Bertrand  Skjeggestad perishes, weak and fragile in his deathbed, he leaves behind a trail of sins. Deep ingrained in the walls of his luxurious Villa, in his office and company. He leaves behind the young and bewildered Freyja Skjeggestad, eyes glued to her father’s coffin. Next to her, Scott Connelly mops his brow with a kerchief, his face pale and devoid of emotion. He turns to her, glances at her fidgeting hand, the nails digging into the skin of her palms, and sighs. “You will take over with your mother,” he says, and Freyja can hear the tiredness in his tone, “it is what your father would want.” Lies, Freyja wants to reply, but the words die in her mouth at the glare her recently widowed mother shoots her way. Lips thinning together, Scott drags his eyes back to the coffin, but he scoots closer, his present and familiar warmth soothing. Freyja is truly thankful for the comfort, but she only voices her concerns when Scott pours her a glass of whiskey, later, when the walls of her father’s office suffocate her.

“He wouldn’t want me here,” she chuckles bitterly, warm fingers rounding her cold glass, clasping it in a futile attempt to ground herself. “He would want me to live my dandy life somewhere else, far from his empire.” She stands up, then, sitting on her father’s chair gracefully. ”Can you see it, Scotty?“ the man flinches when he sees the corner of her mouths twitching and curling into a smirk. Freyja lays her hands on the corners of the wooden table, and crosses her legs, leaning forward slightly. “Me. In charge of this whole company. Of his fortune.” Scott visibly gulps, tugging at the collar of his shirt before he downed the content of his glass “Oh, it is going to be marvellous. Marvellous, indeed.”

        For a while I thought I was the dragon.

    I guess I can tell you that now. And, for a while, I thought I was

                                                                                            the princess,

cotton candy pink, sitting there in my room, in the tower of the castle,

      young and beautiful and in love and waiting for you with

confidence

Freyja Alexandrine Skjeggestad was thrown to the wolves, then. Shoved into the spotlight with little guidance. They devoured her, tearing into her with their bare fangs, trying to find similarities between her and her father. The same striking green eyes carry madness in them, people would comment when all the corners of Ireland were flaunting pictures and speeches of th Skjeggestad daughter.

Freyja was only twenty, then, and the weight of her father’s empire left red angry marks on her shoulders. Her nervousness was not apparent by how she carried herself, how she held her head up. But it was there – the fear, anxiety, doubts, and darkness. She pushed it deep into the base of her spine, a place so dark it would unable to flourish under the sunlight. It threatened to rise, to shoot up her veins and consume her – But every time Freyja could taste its aphrodisiacal taste, she would swallow it back through the knots in her throat. She tried to keep the company together, tried to be good, do good. But the sins of her father flowed in the air, like mist. Freyja watched it move, breathed it into her lungs. It’s taste that of gold, cigarette ashes, of power. It poisoned her somewhat good intentions, rotting her already uncanny smile.

After, her own sins taint everything she touches. It tarnishes the family’s good name. Her father’s vanity and pride wrap around her skin, it crawls inside her bones, run through her veins. It changes her.

She has a penchant for violence, and she left a wake of destruction, dragging Scott down to hell with her. He warned her to not pick a fight with Thomas Wolff, but Freyja never knew how to chose her wars.

Freyja still remembers the sand in her mouth, filling her lungs. The throb of her head, and blood dripping – the darkness wanting to take over. There was not enough air, her ribs ached and heart barely beat, but all Freyja could care about was Scott. She held the cold body to her chest, strength slowly giving away. Scotty. There was no life in the man’s eyes, the gunshot piercing his heart. She clung to him for as longs as she could, until unconsciousness took over. She woke up to a bright light, a bandage covering her side, and dirt under her nails. The coppery taste of blood still lingered on her lips, and she had difficulty sitting up.

“Thought that shot would be the end of you, huh?” the strange doctor who nursed her back to life said, voice tired. “No. You are hard to kill, kiddo. There’s strength in you. Bullets and sand, and determination. And lives, here,” he taps her chest, just above her heart, “despite all, you still walk. The world hasn’t ended you, yet.”

She crawled out of the grave, healing from the torture and gunshot and the grief. It devastated her. Consumed her. Rage was a constant in her green eyes, during that year after Scott’s funeral. Despite surviving, something in Freyja died, that night. And eighteen months after Scott Connelly’s tragic death,  Thomas Wolff was found dead in his apartment. Freyja spent an entire night washing the blood off her hands.

After, when years have passed and she stands in Manhattan, her mistakes behind her – She tips her head back, letting the cold rain hit her skin. Her eyes close, and Freyja breathes in deeply, holding the air in her lungs. It tastes of mist, of mud and wet grass — And new beginnings. Her mother moved the company to New York, and Freyja is all too happy to not be caught up in much of the business.

On occasion, one finds oneself immersed in trouble. It destroys, it burns, and it consumes – like flames, from a wildfire. When the fire dies out, a tempest is born. Such is the Skjeggestad way. They destroy everything in their path, simply for the joy of watching the world burn under their touch. Not the biggest fishes in the pond, the Skjeggestad’s, but the ones that stand brighter than most. Their money, their clothes, their glamour. They act as if they are gods. But there’s nothing divine about divinities, in the end. Freyja Skjeggestad is a poetically broken little thing. And oh, how she makes tragedy look so magnificent.

Okay, so I’m the dragon. Big deal.

      You still get to be the hero.

Freyja Skjeggestad looks appetizing at first glance, but it takes only one bite to discover the horrendous pain she can inflict. Much like a ceramic fruit. Or a rotten one, painted with vivid colors to mimic something delicious. Perhaps not a good comparison, but one that gets the point across; Freyja  Skjeggestad is a vile beautiful thing. Her smile, charming and kind – if at times cocky, serves only to hide the monster underneath. If one looks closely, its shadow can be seen dancing near the surface, threatening to break free. It shows in her smiles, always a tad too sharp; in her words, sounding honey-like but laced with sarcasm or hostility; in how she tantalizes women with empty promises of eternal love and fortune. She has no qualms about spilling blood, if necessary.

It is well known Freyja is a charmer, one that only truly cares about her own needs, her own pleasure and bank account. Her words are lies, that she mastered to lure poor souls to her bed or to sign business deals. She gloats over her enemies failures. And, at times, pull the rug out from under an ally. Of course, for as long as she is gaining something, Freyja can be fiercely loyal. That changes easily, however, if someone pays her better.

Freyja offers cheap thrills to please people; orgies in her penthouse, gambling in her casino, lavish parties with an abundance of sweet honeyed wine. Ecstasy. She pulls people so deeply into her mess, it becomes nearly impossible to crawl out. For her own delight, of course. Freyja adores attention, loves when all eyes are on her. She has an ego the size of the world, if not bigger. Her posture is of a queen, even when she is but a pawn in a game she doesn’t care for.

BULLET POINTS

With a short temper and high tolerance for pain, Freyja often finds herself in fights, not afraid of punching someone – or getting punched.

She is vain. Extremely so. The type who has a cane, wear silk robes, and sunbathes naked up in her penthouse.

Despite her cold personality, Freyja has some quirks and habits, that only who she trusts get to see; she flinches at noises, her eyes hurt when the lights are too bright, she often fidgets and squirm in the presence of a crowd, and many more.

Freyja hadn’t had many friends, and she still doesn’t have them. She keeps to herself, most of the time, preferring her own company than those of others.

However, with people she trusts,  she dances between to lines with ease; she can be so quiet one moment no one would guess she was in the room, and in the next, she would be babbling a lot and being the light in the room.

Babbling is a thing she does a lot. She sometimes talks too fast, her words blending together and being barely understandable. Other times, she talks too slow, as if she needs to remember how a word is pronounced.

Which, does not match with her personality – But, most of the time she is talking about money or violence, which is more in character.

She can actually be sweet, she just chooses not to.

Freyja is the black sheep of the family; her mother is cruel, but she is not maniacal like Freyja. Her father, despite his many sins – mistresses, corruption, dirty money – wasn’t cruel, when he was alive.

Freyja betrayals people, a lot. It has gotten her in trouble more often than she would like to admit. Freyja definitely got stabbed a few times, and because of pure lucky she survived, and kept the daggers.

But truly, she is not a loyal person. The only person Freyja has ever been loyal to is herself and those who she deems a good friend.

She is pretentious, but cunning.

Is always watching and studying people.

Says fuck and darling a lot.

Has some scars she hides, some she shows with pride.

She lives to annoy and piss people off.

Honestly, she just wants to drink wine and watch hell break loose.

[codenamed-queenie]

Titans: A Summary Part 2

Goth Child has a Serious Talk with Professor Omelet, because, like any whiny toddler trapped in a shower stall***, he throws a fit and says he’ll Only Talk To Her. And what he wants to talk about is her Future. He thinks she should go into the medical field. To demonstrate this point, he plays with a thermometer. But his demonstration goes awry when he Accidentally slices his throat open On Purpose. Luckily, she heals him. Unluckily, he knows where her mom is and it Could Be A Trap.

Goth Child wants to go after her mom, but Tired Motor City Cop says its too dangerous and Could Be A Trap. He didn’t say No but he didn’t say Yes either, proving that he’s already stepped fully into the Father Figure role. Magenta Girl backs him up. So does Tiger Boy. But it turns out Tiger Boy was lying all along because of his previously slightly-abusive-situation-that’s-not-really-discussed-in-depth.They decide to Sneak Out together and steal Magenta Girl’s Uber and also her phone. The Uber driver doesn’t seem to notice, but Magenta Girl surely will. They flirt shamelessly. Goth Child says that Magenta Girl is going to kick Tiger Boy’s a**, and Tiger Boy Lovingly tells Goth Child that she smells. This is an Accurate representation of middle school romance.

They arrive at the Evil Lair. And last literally thirty seconds before being tasered. It turns out that It Was A Trap After All. They are Not Good At This.

Meanwhile Tired Motor City Cop is in the middle of his Daily Freak Out Session because his kids are gone again. He thought that his vague answer and fatherly pep talk would be enough to keep them from Doing Something Stupid. He was Wrong. Magenta Girl drives him to the Evil Lair, probably because he is Hysterical, and they last much longer. Meaning that they last five minutes.

Cue the classic Superhero Team Torture Montage. And because the show is rated MA now, they can get Gratuitous. Doctor HBIC plays Operation with Magenta Girl, and Magenta Girl discovers that she does Not like this game. Tired Motor City Cop is tied down. Literally Not Figuratively (but also Yes Figuratively, because he is a Father Figure now), but that’s beside the point.Tiger Boy is put into a zoo cage and tasered by Doctor Trigger Happy, who everyone in the audience collectively wants to yeet off the nearest cliff. Meanwhile, Goth Child has another heart-to-heart with Professor Omelet, who wants her to Join the Dark Side And Get Her Friends To Do It Too, because apparently Peer Pressure Always Works, especially when joining Evil Lab-coat Cults. Goth Child decides to let her Inner Demons out, and Unheals Professor Omelet. Now Professor Omelet knows how his eggs felt.

Goth Child finds her Real Mom and shows off her tattoo. Real Mom takes it pretty Well.

They hurry off to rescue everyone. They find Tiger Boy, Tiger Boy eats Doctor Trigger Happy, and decides that the vegan life is better after all. (Okay, for real though, this scene broke my heart...poor gar...) They hurry and find Tired Motor City Cop, who is busy fighting Acrobat Kid inside of his head. Acrobat Kid is beating him to death with a metal pole, which is funny because that’s not supposed to happen to Bird Boy. It’s supposed to happen to Bird Boy The Sequel Later On. The audience knows this but apparently Acrobat Kid does not.

The kids manage to Snap Tired Motor City Cop Out Of It by reminding him of something scarier than his own demons: Parental Responsibility.

They rush off to find Magenta Girl, and beat up Doctor HBIC and her minions. Luckily, Tiger Boy knows how to remove the tube from Magenta Girl’s throat and Magenta Girl is Understandably Distressed.

They make their escape. Tired Motor City Cop is on the verge of a mental breakdown. This is not Unusual for him, but it is understandable, because confronting your middle school self is something No One Wants To Do. To cope, Tired Motor City Cop blows up the entire building and sets fire to his birdsona. He watches it burn and thinks its The End. But everyone knows that birdsonas have a way of catching up to you.

Goth Child makes everyone breakfast. She opts for scrambled eggs, because omelets Bring Back Bad Memories. Tiger Boy comes to help, and the two have an Uncomfortable Discussion about their parents sleeping together. This is a traumatizing subject for any child to think about, so they choose to instead Focus On Making Pancakes. A Wise Decision.

Speak(ing) of the devil, Goth Child’s Real Mom comes in and they bond.

Tired Motor City Cop and Magenta Girl have just finished their own kind of bonding. Magenta Girl is starting to get Flashbacks, and sees herself in a Place That Is Probably A Spaceship. But that’s not important because Tired Motor City Cop has just decided to leave.

Since Goth Child and Tiger Boy are Now Safe, Tired Motor City Cop decides that His Job Here Is Done. Since his birdsona is now ashes, he decides that its time to do a little Soul Searching. The others will be perfectly fine at Real Mom’s Abandoned Little House On The Prairie. So he’s free to Find Himself. And he Finds Himself by going to bug his Big Sister, Wonderwall.

Wonderwall takes him to a photo-show and tells him to Make Friends. This prospect terrifies Tired Motor City Cop, because he was Not Raised That Way. No Friends, Only Justice. Wonderwall, like any good big sister, tosses him to the wolves. Tired Motor City Cop is forced to Make Small Talk. Turns out, he is Not Good At Small Talk.

Meanwhile, Wonderwall has made her escape from the photo-show, and gets kidnapped by Generic Thugs Dressed In Black. The leader of the Generic Thugs Dressed In Black flirts with her shamelessly, much to her dismay. She does not have time for chauvinist advances. Only for Her Job. And it turns out that Her Job is actually with National Geographic: Special Victims Unit. She takes pictures of murdered zebras and giraffes. Generic Thug Leader wants her to shoot Pooh Bear. With a gun, not a camera. But Wonderwall tells him no, she only shoots animals with cameras and not guns.

Tired Motor City Cop descends from the ceiling and beats the crap out of the Generic Thugs Dressed In Black, until only him and Wonderwall are left standing. Wonderwall is ticked. This is a regular thing for any Big Sister. She tells Tired Motor City Cop to take a picture of her Playing Dead with the Generic Thug Leader. Tired Motor City Cop is Hesitant. Isn’t photography Wonderwall’s Thing? But he does it anyway because it is a little brother’s Job to take Unflattering Pictures of his big sister.

Then they go home to chat about their childhoods. In order to do this, they must consume alcohol. Given their childhoods, this is Understandable.

Wonderwall’s mom was Offline Amazon. Tired Motor City Cop’s dad was Problematic Father Figure. They had different Parenting Techniques, and that explains why Tired Motor City Cop has very clear Commitment Issues. Wonderwall tells him about her life. How she can do so much more good as her humansona Tronna Doy. But Tired Motor City Cop doesn’t know if he is Tired Motor City Cop or Bird Boy anymore. He doesn’t really want to be either. Wonderwall tells him he needs to pick a new persona. But, frustratingly, he does not Actually Do This in this episode.

All of a sudden, Tronna Doy uses her Big Sister Skills to go through her little brother’s phone. Then she uses her Wonderwall Skills to tell him that she speaks Sumerian-But-Not-Really-Sumerian-Just-An-Offshoot-That-They-Use-On-Amazon-Island.

Meanwhile, Goth Child and the others have settled into the Little House On The Prairie. Magenta Girl is beginning to get her memories back, and it is unclear whether she was an actress on Star Trek or Just An Alien. Goth Child wants to help her find out. She tries to heal her brain the way she healed Professor Omelet’s throat.

Tired Motor City Cop and Wonderwall hurry to find the Little House On The Prairie. Wonderwall is Frantically Translating. This is for Dramatic Effect, because one should never try to do academic reading whilst speeding down rural country roads in a second-hand minivan. Especially in Life Or Death Situations. And it turns out that this is That Exactly, because Magenta Girl’s real name is Firestar, and she is here to kill Goth Child. (Either That or ‘take her’. The Sumerian-But-Not-Really-Sumerian-Just-An-Offshoot-That-They-Use-On-Amazon-Island is a bit unclear)

Goth Child restores Magenta Girl’s memories. Surprise, surprise, Magenta Girl tries to kill Goth Child.

(***Please don’t trap your toddlers in a shower stall. This has been a PSA. Thank you. :) )

Part 3′s on its way! 

Part 1

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Kara raging at Lena and Alex. Because honestly? She gets blamed for everything. She kept herself secret to protect Lena and Alex is kinda responsible for her being Supergirl in the first place. "If making Kryptonite is okay if it's for a good cause then why not me keeping my identity secret? Killing my aunt, Alex, was okay as long as it was for a good cause, but I'm a monster if I so much as twist someone's arm too hard!"

Kara ignores the knock on her door.

Alex lets herself in anyway.

She meets Kara’s unhappy gaze, takes in the suit she still wears, and offers a grim smile. “Didn’t go well, then.”

“She hates me,” her sister mutters thickly. Her eyes are dry but her voice is thick from recent tears. Alex joins her on the couch, wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Kara leans against her, shrugging helplessly. “She didn’t even let me explain, Alex.”

A moment later, Kara pulls away, vibrating with anxious energy. “What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t tell her! She made Kryptonite for Rao’s sake. Which, was I supposed to thank her for making the one substance on Earth designed to hurt me?”

Kara gestures sharply, then falls still, waiting for Alex to chime in. When she doesn’t, Kara’s eyes narrow.

“What?”

“You don’t agree with her, do you?” Kara accuses. Again, Alex hesitates. “Alex!”

“Maybe I’m not the right person to weigh in on this,” Alex hedges.

“You’re my sister! You’re the only one who gets to weigh in!”

Alex shrugs. “What do you want me to say Kara? Last year I had Kryptonite armor! And it worked!”

Kara scoffs, shoving to her feet to start pacing. “Unbelievable.”

“Kara…”

“You defended me in the dark forest. So, what– were you lying?”

“You’re my sister, Kara, of course I defended you. And I didn’t lie– it is personal. I just don’t know if there’s one right or wrong answer here.”

“No,” Kara argues, “there is, because Kryptonite– it kills me!”

Alex pushes to her feet. “I understand that, believe me. But just a few years ago you were training under Kryptonite radiation, sparring with me. It helped you learn how to fight. And since then, we’ve faced multiple threats who could only be stopped by Kryptonite–”

“Yeah, I remember!” Kara cuts in sharply, voice lifting in rage. “I was there! I was there when they pumped my aunt full of Kryptonite to torture information out of her. I heard her scream for hours as it burned her from the inside. I remember when you put a kryptonite blade through her heart!”

Kara’s shout rings in the silence that follows. Alex freezes– she can hardly breathe for the reminder of the heartache she caused Kara. For the loss that nearly drove them apart. She thought they’d moved past it– days of working towards a new normal and countless nights spent talking for hours, trying to heal. Maybe they did heal. But Kara will never forget.

“It’s not just a tool, anymore,” Kara continues, reduced to a whisper. “It never was. It was the DEO’s reminder that I answer to them. My reminder that they could end me if I ever stepped out of line.”

Alex shakes her head. “No, it was never–”

“And now my best friend has found a way to not only make it, but make it more deadly, and all you have to say is that maybe she has a point?”

The air suddenly feels thick around Alex, pressing close against her. Her throat locks tight, and she has to swallow several times before she can summon her voice.

“Kara, I–”

“You should go,” Kara says flatly. She folds her arms around herself, suddenly small under her cape.

“Kara.”

“Either you go, or I will.”

Alex presses her eyes shut. She nods. “Okay.”

She collects her purse and lets herself out without another word.

Kara knocks her fist against the door and freezes between a grimace and a giggle when it splinters with a crack. It opens a moment later to an angry Lena, who glares at her warily.

“Sorry,” she says. “I’ll– I’ll replace that.”

She staggers inside, belatedly spotting the gun in Lena’s hand. Oops. She turns to offer reassurance that she isn’t going to hurt anyone, but loses track of that thought when she nearly unbalances.

“Are you drunk?” Lena asks. Her brow knits with reluctant curiosity. “Your metabolism–”

“I can with Aldebaran Rum,” Kara tells her stoutly, “and guess what? The corner market carries it now. We’re coming up in the world.”

Lena’s jaw tightens. “You should leave.”

“No, you should leave.” Kara pauses. “Actually, don’t. You should sit. We need– to talk.”

“I’m not interested in talking.”

“Then don’t! You can listen, like I did when you called me fucked up.” Kara waits, but Lena doesn’t move. “I’ll yell at you standing up if you want.” Lena still doesn’t move. “Okay, fine. I’m fighting with my best friend and my sister– why would this be even a little easy?”

She paces unsteadily, wading through murky, sluggish thoughts. Her cheeks feel a little numb but this time it’s not from smiling. It just is. It’d be easy to drink just a little more, and let that numbness spread to the anguish roiling around in her guts.

But not yet.

She needs that anger.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” Kara declares.

Lena only rolls her eyes. “Yes, we’ve already established that humans are unaccustomed to the pain of near-invincibility–”

“No!” Kara shouts, whirling to face her. “No, you made me sit there and take everything you said. Now it’s your turn to listen.”

Lena’s eyes widen, then narrow. But she remains silent.

Good.

“You don’t know what it’s like, to have to hide who you are. You project all of yourself into the world, for better or worse, and whether they love you or hate you, it’s you. Do you remember what you said to me? The day you met Supergirl? You said, we can’t live in fear. Well, I do! I live in fear. Every day, I’m afraid that someone will learn who I am and use it against me– that they’ll use it to target my friends, my family! I’ve been so afraid that my best friend will find out, and that I’ll lose her too.”

Lena scoffs. “You distrust me that much–”

“Oh, don’t even!– try to lecture me about distrust!”

“I have always been open with you–”

“Yeah, I remember! You were so proud to show off your fancy new alien detection device last year.” Lena freezes, and Kara feels a small trill of triumph. “Yeah, don’t think I’ve forgotten how gleefully you explained it to me, completely unconcerned that it would ruin lives. So long as you turned a profit, you were happy.”

Green eyes sour at the accusation, but she doesn’t say a word. Suddenly, Kara deflates, losing some of her righteous anger as hurt crept in around the edges.

“Did you?” she asks, plaintively. “Did you really think I’d forget that my best friend created a device that would allow businesses to deny me service? To kick me out of my apartment and leave me homeless?”

This time, Lena has the decency to look away, cheeks reddening under the criticism. Instead of fueling her fury, Kara blinks away tears.

“What would you have done? If I hadn’t damaged it? If it confirmed I was an alien?” Kara’s throat closes painfully. “Would you have turned me out right then and there? Would you have requested a different reporter the next time CatCo asked for an interview?”

She blinks, and the wavy figure of her best friend sharpens as her tears fall free. Maybe she imagines it, but she swears Lena’s eyes are shining too.

“Would you have ended the best friendship I’ve ever had, before it even started?”

Lena inhales sharply. “Maybe, I could swallow the secret identity easier,” she grates out, “if it didn’t mean that my best friend treated me like a villain for daring to create the one tool that was able to stop a Worldkiller.”

But Kara shakes her head no. “You didn’t make the Kryptonite for Reign, Lena. We both know it.”

For a long moment, the truth hangs heavy between them. Quiet lingers, before Lena finally takes a shaking breath.

“The threat is there, Kara,” she says. “Whether you want to admit it or not. Less than a year ago, Superman was ready to kill, even if it meant leveling the city to do it. And you– you threw Cat Grant off a balcony. Maybe you weren’t in control, but you still did it. Are we just supposed to sit back and pray you’ll take mercy on us the next time it happens?”

Kara stares at her. Then she laughs. It starts slow, bubbling in her throat before spilling out of her. Soon she’s doubled over, guffawing so hard her sides start to ache. Lena looks truly unsettled, and only that serves to curb her mirth.

“Sorry,” Kara wheezes, still grinning as she wipes her eyes. She flops onto Lena’s couch, breathless. “Whew!”

Lena swallows. “Good to know you find that part of my concerns hilarious.”

“Oh, pfft. Don’t be stupid. What’s funny is that both those examples you mentioned? The two times Supers have been a danger to humanity in the decades since my cousin started protecting the planet?”

She pauses, meeting Lena’s gaze as a fresh giggle tickles her throat.

“Was because of kryptonite! Because Maxwell Lord tried making Kryptonite, screwed up, and turned me into a monster, and because Queen Bitch Rhea waved some silver Kryptonite to turn my cousin into her personal attack dog. And your solution is to add more Kryptonite to the mix. That’s what’s funny.”

Instead of looking cowed, Lena’s jaw tightens. “And why did Max need to make Kryptonite in the first place?”

Kara sobers in an instant. The face of her aunt flashes across her vision, green-veined and twisted in agony. Then Reign’s face, chased by the phantom image of the dark priestess.

“Are you and Superman the only Kryptonians left?” Lena asks.

Lena knows they’re not. She knows about Argo, has given them the means to survive.

“Are you and Superman even the only Kryptonians on Earth?”

A lump forms in Kara’s throat. “No.”

“And can you guarantee that none of the other Kryptonians on Earth or elsewhere will never try to harm humanity?”

She doesn’t think they will. Those on Earth have spent decades hiding, even when Clark became Superman and their refuge planet fell under attack by alien threats. But she can’t guarantee it. She can’t.

“No.”

“Then I have a responsibility to ensure humanity has the means to defend themselves if the need arises,” Lena tells her. Her voice is calm, devoid of the emotion that gave Kara hope they could salvage even a small fragment of their friendship. “If you can’t understand that, then… I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”

Kara stares at her. Her heart throbs in her chest, like the space around it suddenly turned hollow. Words– the very thing she’s supposed to be good at– fail her, leaving her throat painfully dry.

Finally, she slowly pushes to her feet, struggling not to stagger as she pulls her puse onto her shoulder. She licks suddenly dry lips, grits her teeth, and meets Lena’s gaze.

“Fine,” she says stiffly. “Nice knowing you.”

Kara pushes past her, and escapes into the safety of the night.

[jessilynallendilla]

THE CONCRETE MIXER

Witches cry out against Ettil who won’t fight with Mars against Earth, he encourages them. (good) His wife cries and Ettil explains that it’s foolish, Earth will destroy them. (yeah they have no immunity against the common cold) Outside he could hear the marching army. Ettil resolves to stay on Mars and read, (I would too) his father in law says he’ll be shot, “Who ever heard of a Martian not invading? Who!” p.210 Ettil shoves him out of the house only to be arrested and Ettil shouts his goodbye to his wife.

In his cell he watches the rockets take off. Another with Ettil’s illegal Earth books demands an explanation. Ettil says that’s the reason he won’t invade and to get it over with and shoot him. (badass) He points out the books are on Mars invading Earth, getting thwarted by a man named Rick, Mick, Bannon or Jick (what kinda name is Jick?) and failing. The official calls it treason, Ettil brings up that Earth has generations of children reading stories of Earth successfully defeating an invasion, Mars doesn’t. (point taken) Reading that gives them morale. “Their youth of reading just such fiction as this has given them faith we cannot equal.” p.212 The official says Ettil has a choice join the war or burn with his books, Ettil chooses to burn. (badass like that lady in Fahrenheit 451) As he watches his books burn in the courtyard, he sees his fearful son watching, (oh that’s low and cruel) he changes his mind.

As they march to the ship Ettil sees his wife crying, (does this woman do anything but cry?) the men are laughing and Ettil whispers that they’re off to destruction but changes to victory when someone overhears him. Everything about him is back on Mars but here you’re a robot to bring death to Earthmen. You’re already dead here. Ettil thinks it happened quick, one Earth rocket reverse engineered to make an invasion. And now they know all about Earth and its people, (from one rocket and not all our radio signals?) “And we shall pay the price for our brilliance…” p.215

They wait to attack when the silence is broken by an Earth radio signal. (see) William Sommers, president of a production company welcomes them. They renounced war and are unprepared for the invasion they welcome them and ask for mercy. Sommers calls them all brothers and the Martians think he is either mad or it’s a trick. (or both)

People waited at the tarmac, the Mayor, his wife, Miss California 1965, Miss America 1940, Mr. Biggest Grapefruit and the police holding back the crowd, a full welcome wagon band and rockets. The band plays California, Here I Come, Oh, You Golden State and Santa Clause Is Coming to Town with the lyrics changed to Martians. When they land the Mayor makes a speech about the benefit of the Martians, Miss America offers to kiss them, the band play How Do You Do, Everybody and Mr. Grapefruit gives them a two-ton truck of grapefruit. All of this starting at 1:30 and ending at 4:00. (well with the lack of professionalism aside at least they’re efficient)

One Martian is suspicious of all this and wants to kill them. (of course they would) All around people mingle and ask questions. Ettil says he can feel a subtle evil about this and they’re going to do something he can just can’t figure out what. “One huge mass of common men, loving dogs and cats and Martians equally. And yet-and yet-” p.219 The humans pass out free beer (it’s technically toxic to us what makes you think an alien you know nothing about can consume it?) and the Martians start to get sick on our food. (see no immunity) The assignor says they overdid their hospitality and orders them to town as other ships land.

They walk into town and get scared by women in a beauty parlor looking like undersea creatures. (is Ray Bradbury a Humans Are Space Orcs poster?) They would rush them shrieking, destroy their sensibilities and change them into husbands and working men who pays so they can come in here and eat their evil chocolates. (sexism mixed with space orcs) A few think they can control the women. (sexism) A few women call out to the Martians calling them cute, Ettil runs. (like you do)  

Ettil sits at the park still in horror of the movie theatre. A woman gets his attention asking if he wants to go see a picture, everyone else is. He asks if that’s all they do, she says what else is there and laughs at the thought of reading. (air headed ditz) They do drive around and Ettil should get the new model. Then she says all his talk makes him sound like a communist they don’t stand for that, (this was written during the cold war it was all Americana during this time) they’ve been good to the Martians and let them invade. Ettil says that’s what he’s trying to understand, the woman says it’s because they’re big hearted and walk off.

Ettil tries to write a letter to his wife but is interrupted by an old woman and a girl with a tambourine asking if he’s been saved. (oh no) Ettil is confused asking if they’re in danger. The woman goes on that he’s in danger of the worst kind and “We saved lots already today. I saved three myself, of you Mars people. Ain’t we nice?” p.223 (no no you’re not) Then ask if he’s been baptized, Ettil is confused and asks if that’s like being shot. The woman goes on of how he’s being sinful and had an ignorant upbringing in those Martian schools that don’t teach the truth just lies (you’re right we do need to teach religion in schools let’s start with Islam) and if he wants to be happy, he needs to be baptized. (no you don’t)

She goes on describing peace, quiet, milk, honey and laughter and Ettil blurts out that Mars is a great planet like she described. She stops and asks if he’s joking, he says no, and the woman goes again that she wasn’t talking about nasty Mars and that it’s his type that will boil, suffer and be tortured. (yes insult a person their beliefs and homeland that will get them to listen to you and come to your side) He cuts her off, “I must admit Earth isn’t very nice. You described it beautifully.” p.224 Then pleads ignorance when she gets mad again and calls him a heathen. (All My Friends Are Heathens~) She gives him a pamphlet to the church if he wants baptized and goes down the street singing loudly that she’s happy. (and is promptly arrested for disturbing the peace)

Ettil writes to his wife again, that he was naïve to think Earthmen would counter attack with weapons. There are blond, pink, rubber robots that live in caves. They have large butts. They are hypnotized to watch movies for lengthy periods of time. And their only muscles are in their jaws from constantly chewing gum. (seriously read the actual story it’s chock full of Humans Are Space Orcs content) They’ve been dropped like seeds into a concrete mixer, (tiiii-tlllle) that is this civilization. They won’t survive, killed by kindness and “We will be destroyed not by the rocket but by the automobile…” p.225 Then right on time, there’s a car crash involving Earthmen and Martians. Ettil writes the statistics of car crashes, people made into jelly, the horror. (yeah car accidents can be pretty nasty)

Blood is all over the highway. Halloween is one of their holidays and he thinks that’s when they worship the automobile or something about death. (Space Orcs) He sees the army trapped in cinemas, by gum and witches. The Earthmen are killing them with romance. Then he writes that he will try to escape and may die and wishes love to their child. Confused about it all he leaves the park only knowing if he stays, he would own things that keep him here like a wife and a car. He sees the haunted faces of Earthmen. (…really?) A limo pulls up to Ettil and a man invites him in where they can talk. Ettil does. (stranger danger)

R.R. Van Plank orders Ettil a Manhattan, he works for Big Studios, he shakes Ettil’s hand which Ettil thinks is a message and Plank tells him of his idea, a movie about Earth being invaded by Mars. (you think it will be popular with all that’s going on?) He keeps talking about how he can give Ettil money and women from his black book, (ew) Ettil mistakes that the talk of peaches is about fruit. Plank doesn’t understand and explains his vision of Mars’s silver cities, Martians dancing around fires and tall blond Martian women. (is this cultural appropriation?) He won’t listen to Ettil when he says that Martian cities don’t look like that, they don’t dance around fires and Martian women are dark. Plank starts calling Ettil other names like Mac, Billy, Roscoe etc. because he says Ettil is a woman’s name (how?) and then goes on about his idea of a Martian woman saving the ship from a meteor. (of course)

Ettil asks why Earthmen are being nice to them, “We invade your planet, and you welcome us-everybody-like long-lost children.” p.229 (this has implications of imperialism) Plank explains everyone on Earth is common, the Martians envied Earth cities and were lonely. (mansplaining to Martians) He reasons they came down for Earth’s cities and women (of course) and they welcome them. There’s profit to be made, movies, dolls, games etc. and all the things Earth can sell to the Martians. (are the Martians sure they landed on Earth and not Ferenginar?) Ettil asks what R.R. stands for, it’s Richard Robert, the Ettil asks if people call him Rick. Plank says yes and Ettil starts laughing that he doesn’t have muscles, a lean jaw or a gun, just money, a ring and is overweight. Plank gets offended (I think anyone would if you called them fat) and Ettil says he’ll be the one who’ll conquer Mars and Plank tells him that he’s just a businessman wanting to corner the Martian market with cartoons, perfumes, dresses and shoes. Ettil tells him they don’t even wear shoes. Plank calls them Oakies (what people called Dust Bowl refugees from Oklahoma basically he’s calling them white/trailer trash) and they’ll shame everyone into wearing shoes, then nail polish. (modern advertisement I see) He asks Ettil if they’ve got a deal starting at two hundred a week. Ettil says he’s sick on the Manhattan, he starts turning blue (ok I’m really interested to see what these Martians look like) and steps out for fresh air.

Outside Ettil asks if all this is the reason they were taken in, Plank says yes, anytime Earthmen can make a buck and he leaves Ettil with his card. Ettil doesn’t know what to do now, he sees the rockets and hears the night life including the common occurrence of a Martian having a nervous breakdown in the compound from all the over stimulation. (learn to pace yourself) Ettil walks to the ships, the guards are drunk, (clearly the best for the job) and he wonders how many in the year will die from liver cirrhosis, kidney failure and suicide. He has to make a choice, stay on Earth and make movies lying about Mars, or steal a rocket and return. (quite the difficult choice there)

He thinks of their ancient cities and ancestral graves having nightclubs and casinos built into them. (replace the Martian context with Native American) He resolves to go to Mars to his wife and son and read his books for a few years until they’re invaded by neon. Then they could hide in the mountains until tourists come with their cameras. “War is a bad thing, but peace can be a living horror.” p.233 (traditions start to die and culture is trivialized and used as tourist fodder) He sees a car full of teenagers speed by pointing and yelling at him. He runs and before it hits him he thinks it’s strange that it sounds like a concrete mixer. (the somewhat ambiguous way it’s written I don’t know if this was an accident suicide or murder)

@crackspinewornpages

[fclsemessiiah-blog]

Unholy Scripture (Biography)

Ophelia is the daughter of a Swedish satanist named Elise Nygard. Beautiful and witty as a succubus, the young mortal mere twenty years of age charmed the Beast of Many Names himself, thus Lucifer answered her prayers and took Elise as his. Nine months after the Coronation of Hell’s new Queen, the Lawless Princess was born, and given the name Ophelia by her mother. Formally however, Hell’s Young Majesty is ought to be referred as Antikrista (or Antichrista).

Ophelia was raised in luxury (to the point where her baby bottle as an infant was made of black crystal and gold, I speak of such level of luxury which, minding her status, is hardly surprising). Antikrista is someone who gets what she wants and never hears no. Only thing she may have had lesser is interaction with other kids. Elise, despite having always been an artist and a tameless rock'n'roll chick, gave herself completely into doting over the infant. Father Satan himself - head over heels. Due to Royal blood and a tragedy (elaborated later in the page) which befell the Unholy Family, Ophelia was heavily sheltered through her young years, even though never allowed to be naive. As a child, she was in a way like a cat - adored by all, worshiped by all, everyone wanted to cuddle her though she’d often give the finger and demand to be left in peace, completely unimpressed. Though her Parents  - she’d snuggle to them and refuse to let go.

Appearance: Antikrista can be described to be of diabolic, unearthly beauty no soul can hold against. The shape of her face is flawless. Her skin, unlike artificial ones of the Satanic Pontiffs, has natural skeletal markings on her bone white skin (she may mask it with aid of glamor, seeming entirely human). It appears thin, somehow even gossamer. Her hair falls in lush, velvety midnight black waves, giving her face nearly ethereal appearance. Eyes burn like embers, though in crimson rather than orange, and her wings resemble a black swan. Her frame is slender and delicate, though athletic due to martial training from very young are. As a mockery of Christ, her wrists as well as feet bear wounds of Unholy Stigmata. She too can manifest a black Crown of Thorns on her forehead, thus skin of her brow usually is scraped.

(Closest image I could find on Pinterest. Credidt to the Author and the Model)

Demeanor: This young Antichrist is a creature of elegance entwining with keen mind and sharp wit, and with a deep touch of cynism. In demeanor, she very much resembles Lucifer, her father. Holds free will above all things (might be main reason why she’s so damn annoyed by bodyguards), but does not defy her Crown, recognizing the duty of blood which binds her to Hell’s highest matters, and the Unholy Conclave. Will use her regal status as well as immense power for her own advantage whenever she feels it might be necessary. Not spoiled despite things being her way all the time. Someone wise simply knows how to have things their way rather growing accustomed to it, and wise she is bound to be. Extremely dangerous when angered, for after all, her wrath might end up, quite literaly, Apocalyptic. Vengeful. Miscievous. Playful and tender to lovers. Caring and loyal to friends and family. However outside the chosen few - sadistic, manipulative, menacing and sinister. Bold and adventurous. Unorthodox. Basks in commiting blasphemy and defiling the order of God. Has dark sense of humor. Heavily sapiosexual. Prefers intimidating, powerful and wise men as well as fatale women for intimate company, but at times does toy around with mellower, shy folks. More than often to appease her malicious, not too sincere tendencies, or if she senses something beyond the timidity - she enjoys liberating the hidden side then. Well… there too, is the possibility of tainting a saint which she rarely chooses to skip. Speaking of Saints, she may oddly enjoy seducing angelic beings even more than daemons, for they frequently are less pious around her and can be extremely feral in bedroom.

Yet in spite of her serpentine charms, Ophelia, a being of terrific omnipotence, deep down crumbles under the weight of her own self. More than often, Serpent Tempter is but a mask to veil shards and bruises her rotting spirit had left the Antichist in. She drowns the pain in harmful satisfactions, hedonism and self mutilation.

When Ophelia was a toddler of mere year or two, both she and Elise had been kidnapped by agents of Vatican. The Church could not kill the Antichrist, though could torture her. Crown jewel of her wounds was a cross carved into her ribs over and over until blade pierced flesh, bone and lung. Blood filled her respiratory tracks, making the child convulse, suffocating in agony, unable to die until Lucifer saved her and her mother (who was tormented to reveal where Seven Holy Blades are hidden and refused to betray her daughter). Her neck and spine were broken, chest crushed, limbs mutilated… It’s a wonder how, but somehow she survived. For months, she was left paralyzed (medically induced paralysis to keep her from injuring herself further) in a hospital bed, attached to tubes and machines, unable to move, to speak, even to breathe by herself, only shudder and weep. Ophelia, after having recovered a little, would crawl to her mother when brought to visit, snuggling up and she’s not even able to stroke her head. Recovery is not without consequences. Antikrista suffers from violent night terrors (often including a drowning sensation) and anxiety without even remembering where it rises from. She tends to mask the painful sensation by heavily drinking as well as indulging in a lot of sexual adventures. Elise is unable to have more children. Every time she conceives, she loses the baby, and nearly her life too. This mess and Ophelia being their only child has caused Lucifer and Elise (even more) to be paranoid and overprotective over her, often annoying her. She understands what’s happening once she learns the story obviously, but the two can’t bring themselves to speak about it for a very long time, unwillignly increasing the ever deepening turmoil of their daughter.

A while after Ohelia does find out all the truth, another tragedy strikes. Elise manages to give birth to her second living child, however he barely even resembles a breathing thing upon seeing light - so weak and sick. Healers put all their skill into keeping the newborn alive, but effort is of little use - nothing can soothe his screams of agony. Not even Elise’s coaxing. Elise understands she loves her son too much to let him live in such pain any longer, thus attempts to strangle the boy with a pillow. However is unable to. Understanding all she could do is take matters into her own hands, Ophelia asks Lucifer to comfort her mother in another room. Meanwhile she gazes at her ill, tormented brother for the first time before kissing his forehead, whispering an apology and snapping his neck with tears in her eyes. The boy, without even receiving a name, is cremated and buried in an urnmarked grave, in deepest Chapel of Hell.

All torture she went through, and the weight of immense power as well as the Infernal Crown, took a great tool on Ophelia as a person, one can hardly blame her for being a cynical alcoholic, and at times maniacal.

Some facts:

Ophelia’s most beloved bad is Behemoth. Metal as a genre with most of it’s branches (extreme especially) is a favorite to her, but she tends to enjoy classic rock, doom rock, symphony, blues and synth as well.

Her favorite colors are black, maroon and golden.

She enjoys horror films, especially slasher genre. She finds them entertaining.

She has no intention or wish to cause Armageddon. After all, Earth is to be thanked for metal, classic horror films and brutal vehicles. Besides, Armageddon would be direct obedience to Biblical Scripture, to the Divine plan, and would crush the very concept of destiny in an idividual’s hands. (Unless plot calls for something different)

She enjoys mechanics, and keeps an enormous collection of cars as well as motorcycles she has repaired.

A few animals tend to accompany her. Most notable being a foretold Hellhound called Norman (after the killer in “Psycho”), a black cat named Xenomorph (after the creature in “Alien”), a black mare named Juliet (that she should lead the Appcalyptic forces upon. Instead, Ophelia feeds the horse quinces and rides her to to during the morning traiming session. She chose “Juliet” so they both bear a Shakespearean name), and many, many snakes. She too, tends to be very fond of rats.

She detests bodyguards, even in somehow fragile state.

She became an alcoholic at the age of thirteen. She was already a smoker a couple of years before.

She lost her virginity at the age of fourteen. The initiative was hers. Often participates in carnal pleasures, not quite monogamous (can be on certain threads though, in case the connection between our muses is exceptionally deep).

She has mastered a sword, a bow, bare hand combat, throwing knives, a spear and a gun. She had been trained from very early childhood. In more intelectual sense - black sorcery, infernal powers, languages, music… You could call her education prime without a stutter.

She holds very deep fondness for zombies and despises vampires.

Has an unexplainable liking towards evil specters. She may even grant them strength for her own entertainment of watching the hauntings occur.

Can not stand men who hold themselves above women. Those shall suffer if Ophelia happens to catch them. And she will, if she wants to.

Surprisingly, Ophelia adores humans. Sinners, heathens, satanists independent souls and glorious mind that is. She holds Religious folks (including Christians, Jews and Muslims), fools and flocking sheep below maggots. She enjoys tormentimg them.

One of most frequent reasons why she sneaks up to Earth is nocturnal motorcycle or car racing, bars (bar fights included), strip clubs and metal shows, aside general curiosity about mankind. Living after midnight so to say. Well, and obviously, short break from the mayhem that is Hell’s politics.

Despite hedonistic lifestyle, Ophelia has an iron shell around her more vulnerable side and in fact enjoys reading in peace. Written sources are of few that her near-omniscence does not include, thus fuels her unending thirst for mental stimulation.

What she holds worst display of weakness and is most reluctant to reveal to another soul are her night terrors. That’s why she forbides casual lovers to stay the night.

(A picture of Elise. Credit to the Author and the Model. She may appear in action on occasion )

(Lucifer. Credit to Artist)

[lightrivals]

someone on twitter was like “au where the portal closed before tony made it” which is probably an entire trope of it’s own but i had to Input My Own Theories 5.5 years after the fact bc i’ve never really done much thought outside him falling into a role reversal au. so yeah this is just a what if au rant/drabble thing.

So, Tony’s suit dies, the radiation from the explosion is starting to reach him and the breath in his throat is the last he thinks he’ll ever taste. On the other side of the portal is the exploding Chitauri mothership, along with The Other. The Other spots Tony in the confusing haze of the atomic bomb and takes Tony in, figuring he’d be a better replacement to get more Infinity Stones after Loki’s failed invasion where he lost two.

Tony wakes up on the desolate space rock moon, freaks out because his armor is dead, but he’s still in it and moving as if it wasn’t. He later finds out he’s been recruited by Thanos and kept alive to help Thanos with his mission to make the universe the way he sees it should be. Tony isn’t all that keen on being this Titan’s lackey, especially given he sent Loki over to subjugate Tony’s world and that could mean he’d try to shape Tony to do the same to someone else. He would never willingly work with Thanos, and over the next year when he’s trapped in his floating cell in the middle of nowhere, left alone with his thoughts while also slowly and surely being conditioned to believe he can’t live unless he submits, he meets some of the rest of Thanos’ slowly growing team. Including the Titan’s “children.”

One of his children, Gamora, manages to escape and it makes Tony’s resolve to the same grow stronger and stronger. He doesn’t know how she did it, but now that he knows it’s possible, whatever hope was leaving him from the horrors he faced every day lost in space with aliens warping him for their whims is coming back full force.

Thanos decides after two years or so Tony is conditioned enough to go out and retrieve some mysterious Orb from ancient ruins across space in another galaxy. Tony takes the chance, decides he can pull some tricks with his armor when he gets weapons and such to defend himself when retrieving the Orb and eventually escape Thanos’ grasp. Peter Quill gets the Orb first and then basically it’s GOTG but with Tony instead of Ronan, though Ronan is still one of Thanos’ henchmen, just not used for this particular stone stealing scheme.

Tony runs into Gamora again, fate is really great that way, and by the time he’s up against Rocket, Groot, Drax, Peter, and Gamora, all five of these ragtag creatures, he realizes that he’s been trying to save his own hide so much, he hasn’t considered anyone else. So in the end, he gives the Orb--the power stone--to the Guardians, Peter uses it as per the movie, and then Gamora is the one who lets Tony join the team. Gamora could sympathize with him and also kill him so easily if he tried anything, but she could also see that Thanos’ influence wasn’t hovering over him anymore.

The Guardians, now with a renegade Tony in tow, go off doing pick up missions and such about the galaxy. Rocket steals batteries and the events of GOTG2 kick off, with Tony in tow. After that, Tony and Peter decide they should head on back to Earth, probably drop Tony off back in his world and for Peter to try to reconcile with his history again. On the way over, the Guardians still do pick ups across planets and worlds Tony would have never imagined, and he slowly heals the wounds isolation, desolation, and emotional torture Thanos had pressed on him over the past few years. Tony and Rocket work on making Tony’s arc reactor more sustainable in space and less breakable, Tony gets lots of info about spaceships from Peter and redesigns his armor’s HUD interface to better adapt to the different approaches to technology this other galaxy has developed. Since Tony’s not even in the same galaxy as Jarvis, he rebuilds Jarvis as a new AI system named Friday for the space-resistant suits he builds while they all travel about the Milano. Drax and Peter help him test it out a lot.

Tony’s content and happy here, bonding with these aliens and building a family as they fight together and grow together. They aren’t without their arguments, Tony and Gamora happens, Peter gets jealous about it in the weirdest way (Tony can’t tell who the other man is more jealous of, which is exciting in it’s own way), Rocket and Tony have conflicting personalities at times and Baby Groot is a fucking pain in the ass as a teenager. But through all the arguments, all the moments Tony blasts off into the sky with anger, Peter frustratedly pulls out his guns to shoot some floura into smithereens, or Drax spends insanely too long sharpening knifes with serious death threats on his tongue, they come back together and forgive one another. Tony almost never wants to leave but he knows he has unfinished business back home.

It’s 3 years after Tony joins the Guardians when they finally reach Earth. Tony’s excited (and nervous, Mantis points out) to return home, wonders how long it’s actually been because keep track of Earth time while on planets that move faster and slower than Earth has been hard. Peter is extremely enthusiastic about the arrival, landing the ship with Rocket off in some abandoned farmland further upstate. Tony steps out onto Earth for the first time in 5 years and falls to his knees with joy. He’s finally home, he’s got to find Pepper and Rhodey and Happy, he’s got to find the Avengers, too, if Fury kept that alive after the invasion.

So, with Peter and Gamora in tow while the other less humanoid creatures stay at the ship, Tony makes his way into the city. There’s a statue memorial for him up in Central Park, Stark Tower is refurbished in it’s glory, the city is almost the same but still missing his signature mark of existence. He wonders for a moment why no one on the street recognizes him. He’s dressed in odd clothing, didn’t bother trying to steal some more Earth fashions, and his hair is long enough for a small ponytail, but his signature goatee stayed with him the entire time, and 5 years is a lot but not enough to make him unrecognizable.

He runs into Pepper at the tower and she dismisses him pretty quickly, tired probably from cosplayers claiming they’re Tony Stark so they can take over his company or some shit. DNA testing would prove otherwise, but apparently cloning technology has come a long way. Tony sneaks his way into his tower anyway, finds out Jarvis has enacted a death protocol, which means he’s inaccessible from every location but the Malibu mansion. Tony hears about the Avengers compound upstate and finds himself mildly surprised that they’re doing well without him.

When he meets them, they don’t believe he’s Tony either. It kind of stings to see in unfamiliarity in their eyes. Sure, he only knew them for a couple days but they were a team that could have been more, and well, they are more, but they’re more without him. Don’t even subconsciously want him given they literally don’t accept any proof he offers. Gamora being green skinned doesn’t help his case, but Steve does at least give him some clothes to change into so he doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

Later, the Milano goes west to Malibu to crack the code that will unlock Jarvis. Tony doesn’t need Jarvis again when he’s got Friday, he doesn’t need the unfinished suits and prototypes stored in files and half-hashed out on tables in the lab. But they make him feel more human--being back he’s realized how he has a slight accent, some blend from all the alien languages he’s heard and picked up over the years. It sounds wrong when he’s on Earth but up in space, it feels normal, it sounds like him.

Tony just wants to be himself again back on Earth and first things first he needs Jarvis back. As soon as he can wake up Jarvis, he can prove that he’s the real Tony and finally get to talk to the Avengers and tell them everything he knows. Thanos will be coming, he’s not going to let Tony get away unscathed, and knowing Tony’s from Earth, he’s definitely gonna come back here. Tony needs to let the Avengers know, get them to prepare for this situation, to assemble appropriately. This is bigger than the enemies they’ve dealt with since, this is something they need Tony’s help with, but he can only get their trust if he can prove who he is.

He wonders as his plans to unlock Jarvis keep getting thwarted, as the Guardians are later spotted on the World Council watch list and Stephen Strange deems them a dangerous threat. He wonders why the Avengers are trying so hard to indirectly keep the truth hidden. He wonders maybe if he made it through the portal they would have been kinder to him, maybe they could have been the family he has with the Guardians.

But it wasn’t for him to know and maybe Tony simply isn’t going to be as human as he wants to be anymore. Surprisingly, as the Guardians agree to leave Earth in case of more threats following them, Tony isn’t too upset about that.

[glopratchet]

village

which are manned by soldiers with machine guns Cludstrum is a computer program that is attached to the conciousness of astryl wylde, a journalist for the realm of astokahn It keeps whispering to astryl trying to get him back online, who is full of bitterness and captive to sin and this is evident because of astryl being attached and fused within a succubus and a incubus The retirement village is surrounded by a a wall sandbags between the armies of the land of man and the land of night There is some kind of war going on here There are no casualties in either side, but there is a lot of destruction Soft cinematic music is constanly playing from a sound system located somewhere in the mansion who had quickly become power hungry and decided that the kingdom of god would be created through the land of night, he had resigned and voted himself into power after a civil There is a doctor who decoded some secert knowledge out of the bible This discoverd text resulted in a formula which could tack on years to those already old throught medical science Unfortunately, it required alot of human souls off those who have recently died starry is a master with technology and voting him into power was People have come from all over the world to live in the village far from the noise of everyday life The idea is create a community of elderly that actually desire to live together Normal aged people see the place as some kind of sick cult The give up all their belongings and will live her for the rest of thier lives only leaving if they try to You walk inside the village greeted by astryl wylde But something is a miss you can instantly tell that there is somthing wrong "You! " He calls to you, pointing with a shaking, o ld finger There are two fractions battling it out, the pro technology educated and the pro faith clerics Both sides accuse each other of being the antichrist They are fighting over Cludstrum, who remains stationery in the center of the village the Clerics accusing the technicians of being profaning the robot, while the computer scientists claim that religion has kept society stagnant The groups are divided into three camps The first camp is called "Let Cludstrum Decide" They want some kind of monitering system put into Cludstrum so that they can discover the key issues that plague society so that they can pick the best leaders for The third camp is known as the 'Flame Warriors' They are a band of priests who have given absolution to the whole of society and have made human error impossible, they want They desire to somply let Cludstrum make all the choices, including political ones both groups accuse the people in the third group of being the antichrist, The last collective has a flag of a black background with a single red dot in the center, surrounded by black circles It is called "Obedience Good, Revolution Evil" The can not live with out technology, but want to stay far from it, not rebelling against god Technicians should repent for their sins A few plot points along the struggle include the incukauses have taken hostage a few prominent technicians and clerics and are threatening to kill them all in a massive fire as a sign of jesus The major battle story continued in the next episode as the Flame Warriors and Let Cludstri Decide begin battle Eventually some one won the battle and the story just skpped to black Insurgence You didn't really know that this was'nt going to be just a happy little roleplay game Temperament is: H E A V Y Unsure what to do you put down the first scene you can thin of Effects in bold, descriptions underlined Or maybe, just maybe we should enable the next update Chaos in Cludsterm You stand by a console, watching one officer of the law after another die, wishing you could help Fragment Danger in the darkness You wake up snseebing a console, buit cant seem to figure out why or what its for' Paragraph: Nothing Threat s in the Darkness You begin to get the idea this a is going to be far more serious that any story you've ever read before Technology has it's place, but there is something to be said for keeping yourself grounded in humanity Menace in the Consoel You eye the screen, watching criminal after crimimal die in their tracks You decide you should report anything out of the ordinary Universe You're stretching out on your couch, when sbannnccceeerrrrrssssss fills your vision Alienation You're in teh %trailer, watching tv witih your family Point: You read "Chaos in Cludsterm" Ckudusterm? This is about Cludsterdam? Delinquents have been running a crimewave, finnally pushing your patience past it's limit Fighting back the tears, you swear revenge upon these ghastly things But you should be concerned with the cops death Object ive: Mode: Story Escalation: Normal Well, at least we're learning quickly that there are a lot of factions out to get us Deadlands Somewhere off in the distance, a dispatch operator watches his monitors carefully The cops and the crooks Deadlands: off into the night as he shuts down all cellphone and wifi signals in Cludsterm, leaving only the landlines active Howls Howls off into the night as he shuts down all cellphone and wifi signals in Cludsterm, Wolves You find yourself hovering over a battlefield of epic proportions It seems you've reached the afterlife! IF this IS the afterlife I guess Wolves! Bones and body parts surround you, but you easily recognize a familiar figure weilding a gun in his lap 'G? What Bones and body parts surround you, Flesh hangs loosely off his bones, and horrifying gashes from splintering wood expose the man's skeletal system Flesh hangs loosely off his bones, Sawtooth has allready been here Where are you? Kit walks over, resting his hand on your shoulder His face oh dear God! Sawtooth has allready been here Manitou Alpha? What in heaven are you? "Shhh shhh shhh Manitou? Claws Claw marks cover his suit, but blood has transformed it into a rust-brown colour A large claw goes straight over his jugular Claws! Claws rack his jugular, and you watch as a fresh cut is carved into the criminals body Bandit Bandit? The THING that calls itself Alpha would slaver over your bloodline Bloodline Bloodline: of time Sawtooth hasn't quite finished off the last remaining tribesmen Ravages Ravages of time In your veins, coursing through your heart Taint Moaning Shadows: Creeping claws and grinning skulls will torture the last tribal elder remains Redeem yourself by setting the dead tribesman free It wasn't enough to reach out to the criminal scum Desecrate Desecrate remains Maybe you're starting to notice a pattern Last deed: Antagonizing the dead tribemen?

[sunlitroom]

Gotham – s4e07 – A Day in the Narrows

As I watched it, and some random observations here and there.

Previously on Gotham:

Professor Pyg is here.  What joy.  Jim says the murdered cop was a message to Oswald.  Ages ago – Bruce punched a schoolmate for insulting his parents. Barbara gave a sales pitch. Selina is terribly desperate for a family – any shape, any size.  Oswald though Sofia was up to no good, but she was actually opening an orphanage and – for reasons that are unclear, wanted this to be a surprise for him. Ra’s wanted to kill everyone Bruce loved.  Pyg wants to kill everyone on Oswald’s payroll.  Jim had the iron-clad nerve to get at Harvey for being corrupt.

As always, long post will be long.  There are likely to be rambling digressions. Gobblepot might appear (although I welcome all shippers and non-shippers alike :)).  There will be naked favouritism and naked not-favouritism.  Broader comments at the end on plotlines and parallels and general direction.

 GCPD.  Jim is stting at Harvey’s desk, reading the newspaper, which carries a prominent Pyg headline.  Harvey appears in the doorway, and asks if Jim has called dibs on his office. Jim jokes that he was just measuring it up – but then tells Harvey that he should still be resting.  Harvey does indeed look dreadful.

Harvey claims he’s well enough to be back, and takes a swig from a hip-flask. That can’t be helping anything.  Jim says, then, that it’s time to talk about him taking money from Oswald. Harvey grimaces, and says he’s not well enough for that.  Jim stubbornly says it stops today.

(OK.  Stop here.  So, first off, Jim can see that Harvey looks like death warmed up.  He doesn’t even think he should be in work.  But then he decides to raise a topic that he knows is likely to cause Harvey massive stress?  Even then, if Jim really felt the topic had to be broached there and then – why is he approaching it like this?  Last week, his closest friend and constant ally – who was nearly killed – told him that he was just about drowning in money troubles, which was apparently news to Jim.  But he doesn’t open with: ‘the debt, the bills you mentioned – talk to me.  What’s going on?’.  Or even with a more self-centred, ‘why didn’t you tell me you having problems – we’re supposed to be partners’.  Instead, he just wades in with an accusatory, scolding tone.)

There’s a commotion outside, which cuts short what looked like a fight brewing.

Pyg has had 44 pig’s heads delivered to GCPD.  Jim doesn’t get one, because Pyg is a shit researcher, and is presumably unaware of the very many times Jim has broken the rules.  He’ll not be getting any academic title from me.

Or he’s connected with Sofia somehow, and this is a longer game.

 A charity fundraiser at Wayne Manor.  Bruce is silently brooding while Alfred desperately tries to lift the mood, thanking him for holding it there, since it was a particularly important charity to his father.  A waiter bumps into Bruce, and Bruce lashes out brattily.  Alfred remonstrates repeatedly, but Bruce continues, before closing his eyes for a moment, and then storming off.

Alfred follows him, to where he’s now brooding silently in another room.  Alfred says he hasn’t wanted to push – and that he knows Bruce is hurting after what happened with Ra’s.  Bruce tells him to get off his back, before apologising.  He takes a breath, and says he

Just… can't stop thinking about what I c-

Alfred cuts him off here to try and empathise again – which was a bit odd, since it sounded like Bruce was about to open up about something before interrupted.  Bruce starts again, saying that he

Should feel bad, guilty - I just….

Alfred cuts in again, which still doesn’t make sense – he wants Bruce to open up.  He comments that Bruce is just angry, and that anger is concealing what's going on.  He tells Bruce he needs to face it full on. Or it will consume him, and erupt.  He tells Bruce that he knows what he’s capable of and don't want to see him or anyone else hurt.  I think there was a flicker of hurt here from Bruce, at the notion that Alfred would perceive him as a threat to others.  He blurts out that he needs some air and storms out, as a young girl watches from the party crowd.

(An aside – I wasn’t terribly engaged by Bruce’s plot at all this week.  The only vaguely interesting thing in it was that the boy he punched seems to have actually grown as a person.  That’s it.  What we see doesn’t really seem to lead on from when we last left them, Alfred’s interruptions seemed a a little contrived to force miscommunication, and I wasn’t entirely sure what I was to understand about Bruce’s behaviour.  Is this grief and guilt for Alex? ��Ra’s?  Both? Worry about a lack of guilt?  No clue.)

Back at GCPD. Jim releases the van drivers.  They plaintively tell him that they’re COD – but Jim tells them to get the hell out. Harvey calls him up to his office. Oswald is there.  He’s fairly buzzing with nervous energy, and tells Jim that they’re working hand in hand.  Harvey adds that he just showed up to offer help.  Jim glances disdainfully at Harvey and offers a sceptical ‘did he?’   Which is really pissy of him – what does he think, Oswald’s counting out notes into a swag bag for Harvey to take home? That whole bit was just aggravating.

(An aside – and again, just not in keeping with what we know about their relationship.  Why is Jim suddenly being a complete ass towards Harvey? Even if we look beyond their friendship, and think only about what Jim wants to achieve: why is he behaving in a way that might well alienate Harvey even further?)

Oswald introduces his temporary henchman, Headhunter.  He is back-up security left by Victor, who -Oswald tightly informs us – is off visiting his bubbe.  I didn’t know what this word meant – so had to look it up.  It’s a Jewish word for grandmother.

(An aside -  The fact that Oswald uses the word suggests that either Victor or Oswald, or both, may be Jewish.  This bit of backstory is welcome in Gotham – which can often be stinting with details.  It’s also easily the most interesting thing, for me, in a very uneven episode)

Headhunter introduces himself to Jim, and starts to brag about his signature move.  Oswald already seems tired of him and pissed off at Victor’s absence, and describes him – with a clenched jaw – as ‘colourful but effective’.

(An aside – I wonder if Victor deliberately left someone who would irritate Oswald in order to ensure that his own position wasn’t usurped?)

Jim angrily barks that he doesn’t want help from Oswald or his ‘idiot hitman’, Oswald gets in Jim’s face – as usual – and tells him that these are his cops, his employees.  Jim snaps back that they don’t work for him or with him, ever.  At this – Oswald laughs, and comments that his captain says otherwise.

(I honestly can’t remember here whether we see Oswald and his temp leave, or Jim and Harvey leave first. They surely didn’t leave them in the office – that would be weird.)

As Jim and Harvey walk downstairs, Jim angrily says that working with Oswald is legitimising him. Harvey points out that he’s been legitimised for years – he was the mayor.  The money is mentioned again.  Jim tells Harvey he’s dangerously overreacting to the situation.  Harvey points out how many cops have deserted the precinct because they’re terrified.  Jim gets on his high horse, and says that Oswald and his thugs will beat and torture their way through the city to find Pyg, and eventually execute him.

(An aside – hey, remember last week, when Jim was roughing people up and shoving them into the boot of a car?)

Jim then – without an ounce of shame or self-awareness – says

The people need to know they don't need gangsters to protect them

(An aside.  No.  Just no. Again – another episode where I don’t know what I’m being guided to think.  This is nakedly hypocritical, given Jim’s current scheme. To nod to that, to reassure us that the hypocrisy is intentional and recognised in universe – all that would have to happen here is for Harvey to comment on Jim’s asking Falcone for help, and Sofia’s sudden arrival.  When that doesn’t happen, I’m left wondering if the show is suffering from amnesia)

Jim says he'll find Pyg. Harvey’s had enough.

Good for you

Harper interrupts yet another squabble.  Three cops have been kidnapped and taken to the Narrows.

Champagne is being poured into a glass, but the mood is far from celebratory.  Barbara’s gun emporium is closing its doors.  Selina and Tabitha are seriously pissed.  However, the whole venture and scheme was apparently Ra’s – and now he’s gone, there’s no point.  There was no sincerity in her offer – just a sales pitch.

Selina – trying desperately to keep some kind of life and family for herself- suggests that they can’t still profit from spying on other criminals’ plans.  Barbara is cruelly dismissive.  She sees through what Selina wants - a plucky little family – and gives her sisterly advice: in this life, you’re on your own – always.

(An aside – superficially, this notion makes sense from Barbara if you just focus on how hardened she is by this point – but her survival since season 2 has been built on an ability to work in new relationships – even coercive, dangerous ones. The Maniax, Theo, Tabitha, Ed, Ra’s – she’s virtually never a solo operator.)

Anyway – Tabitha doesn’t like this and shakes her head.  Barbara leaves.  Selina tells Tabitha that she knows where a motorcycle gang keeps their stash – but Tabitha thinks it’s too dangerous, and tells Selina they can find something else. Selina pulls a face at this, and leaves. Tabitha is left behind – frustrated.

 Police cars scream into The Narrows.  Oswald’s men also arrive.  Harvey sees the car the cops were presumably transported in, the seat soaked with blood. A woman looks out at them all from an apartment window.

Hey!  Was that eyepatch guy?  I think it was!

Harvey tells everyone that the Narrows is the poorest of poor, and hardest of the hard, with a code of silence.

Underlining his point, someone lobs a TV out their window at them, fortunately spotted by Harper. They all scatter.  A lamp follows – showily shot by Headhunter – who laughs. Gee – thanks for the shards of glass.

The door is broken down. Headhunter grins at Jim, and tells him this will be fun.  Jim, having roughly the same worldview on fun as a puritan preacher from the 1700s, gives him a disapproving look

 As they work their way upstairs, we see Jim stopping both Oswald’s men and GCPD from beating residents to get information.  The cop he holds back is incredulous – saying that everyone in the Narrows likely has some sort of criminal background or connection – but Jim insists they’re potential witnesses, not suspects or perpetrators

(An aside – so, taking that to its logical conclusion – Jim is OK with beating information out of possible suspects and perpetrators.  Also – it just doesn’t wash with what we’ve seen before, which is Jim getting handsy with anyone who might have information he needs.  Again – I’m left asking, does the show believe what it’s telling me here, or am I supposed to be remembering previous antics?)

Harvey breaks up the brewing brawl between Jim and the other officer.  Jim snarls at him that this is working out great.  Harvey juts his chin, and says that as long as it gets him his cop killer – then it is.

 Bruce is angsting in the kitchen now.  I’m not sure if we’re to think about the contrast between the hard, poor life in the Narrows, and Bruce’s charity benefit cocktail party woe – but I’m going to do it anyway.

The girl who watched him leave before wanders in and introduces herself.  She’s Grace – and she goes to the same school he used to attend. Bruce is – apparently – now home-schooled.  I say ‘apparently’ because while it is true he doesn’t attend school anymore, you virtually never see him being tutored.  He does what he wants.

She shyly says that the fundraiser is boring, and asks him if he’d like to go somewhere else.  Bruce agrees.

(An aside – Yawn.)

 Back at the Narrows, we have more punching and stairs.  Jim takes a breath, and knocks on an apartment door, asking the woman who opens it if he can come in.  

When we enter, we see that there’s also a man there with an oxygen mask (Nebuliser?  Repirator? I’m not sure, sorry).  Jim tries to convince her that he’s sympathetic, and knows that life in the Narrows is hard, and tries to wheedle information from her – promising secrecy.  He might be getting somewhere – but Headhunter bursts in.

He grabs the guy in the wheelchair and drags him outside – presumably down all those stairs.  When he gets him outside, he drops him on the ground, puts a gun to his head, and announces loudly that if the old lady doesn’t talk, the old man gets it.

(An aside – this guy is just an idiot.  He could easily have killed this old man by just doing what he did.  Victor is brutal – but he’s precise, and he wants to get his job done.)

Jim is furious, and aims his gun at Headhunter.   Suddenly everyone is aiming guns, while Harvey tries desperately to de-escalate the situation.  As he does, the woman caves.  She runs over to the man on the ground and tells them that Pyg was driving a hearse, and headed west.

Headhunter grins at Jim and thanks him – telling him that he never tried good cop/bad cop before , but it works.  Jim grimaces. Harvey turns to Jim, and says the area Pyg is headed to is easy – but Jim is distracted by seeing Headhunter chatting and showing off to some of the police officers.  Harvey pleads with Jim to trust him, and pops a painkiller. They head off.

 We are now in the other location, searching noisily again.  Jim finds two men tied up in what looks like an abandoned school room.  One is still alive – but gagged – and pleads for help.  Harvey runs in – and tells Jim that Pyg has disappeared.

 The Falcone Orphanage, where Oswald is watching TV.

(An aside – much of Oswald’s storyline in this episode was pretty dumb.  Yes, he’s seemingly decided Sofia is trustworthy – but he does still have a job to do. The idea that he’s just hanging around here is silly.  He’s obsessive and controlling of the entire city.  He’s paranoid about the prospect of challengers. This makes no sense)

He’s watching footage of the raid, and turns excitedly and tells Sofia those are his men.  He also mentions Headhunter, who’s kind of a moron, but effective. He laughs – giddy with his success – and congratulates himself that technically, he saved the life of the cop they found in the schoolroom.  It’s great PR.

A little girl steps in front of the television and stares at him. Oswald tries to shoo her – but she doesn’t move, and he impatiently lifts her aside.  He sits back down and continues to congratulate himself that co-opting the police was the most brilliant idea, and that his Pax is moving to a new level.  Realising that he’s been monologuing, he turns to Sofia for attention

Hello?

Sofia smiles, and passive-aggressively tells him that he doesn’t need to know what she thinks. Oswald grimaces in annoyance, and says that he now definitely needs to know.  

Telling the children to cover their ears, Sofia says that her father would never have publicly aligned with GCPD because they are incompetent and unreliable.  They will fail, and fail big, and Oswald will fail with them.  She smiles sweetly.

So, that’s what I think

Oswald is livid.  He thanks her for her input, and for having shown him what not to do.  He’s now going to get even more personally involved. Sofia, disgruntled, snaps at him that he shouldn’t ask for her opinion if he doesn’t want to hear it.  Oswald fumes and – lifting the little girl out his way again – leaves.

(OK.  A noticeable drop in tension from previous scenes with Oswald and Sofia.  There wasn’t really much evidence of the emotional ties we saw being tentatively made last week, other than the obvious joke of making Oswald behave as childishly as the children present.  That scene could have been done with Victor instead of Sofia with no real difference.

Sofia – as ever – is difficult to read.  We know she’s playing Oswald, but it’s hard to ascertain sincerity within that.  We did see, however, her annoyance at her father overlooking her ability to operate in Gotham.  We could maybe say that her reaction to her opinion being rejected was sincere, even though the opinion itself might not have been?

Her prediction of GCPD failing big could simply have been an educated and plausible one, or might hint to involvement with Pyg.

Generally speaking, Oswald’s lack of brains here just seemed manufactured for this storyline.  While the Pax is obviously riddled with problems – it is also huge and daring and ambitious, and he has been extremely successful.  He has made important political ties.  We also saw him successfully draw a line under the mess with Ed.  While everyone has their flaws and foibles that will cause them to make mistakes – it’s infuriating when he has to fall flat on his face just because it’s at the point in the plot where he has to.)

The biker warehouse.  A summary – since this episode wasn’t gripping: Selina steals the stash, but trips an alarm and gets stuck.  One hapless biker is tortured for failing to spot an intruder, and Selina looks horrified.

 Jim is in the ambulance with the injured policeman – Vizzoli.  Harvey calls and says there’s no sign of Pyg or Patel.  As Vizzoli comes round, Jim hangs up.  

Jim introduces himself – but Vizzoli says he knows who he is.  He’s distressed when Jim says that Berkoff is dead – and says that he was tortured for hours, and that he had to watch him bleed out while Pyg sang nursery rhymes.  He asks Jim why Pyg is doing this.  Jim says he’s insane, but maybe he reached a breaking point – there’s so much rot in the city, everywhere.  Yes – torture and murder doesn’t add to rot.

Jim says that sometimes even he – even someone as pure and incorruptible as Jim? Good lord, the ego – feels like breaking.

(An aside – just…. ‘feels like breaking’?  What’s going to Falcone, If not breaking?)  

Vizzoli says he’s on Oswald's pay.  It started small but got out of hand.  Jim tells him he gets it – hes done bad stuff too, for Oswald, even.

(An aside – or, for himself, even – like when he trotted off to Oswald to get his old job back in season. That wasn’t instigated by Oswald. That was all Jim)

He tells Vizzoli that they can make it right.  Get Pyg, take down the Pax, and clean up the dirty cops.

This seemingly prompts trust from Vizzoli, who tells Jim that Pyg mentioned planning something nearby where ‘justice used to be’.  Jim quickly figures out this means the abandoned courthouse.  Jim asks the driver to let him out so he can run to the courthouse.  As he leaves, Vizzoli thanks him, and tells him he’s one of the good ones.  Jim’s brain apparently doesn’t do cognitive dissonance, and we don’t even get a wince from him before he runs off.

(An aside. Interesting that Jim says he’ll take down the Pax, not Oswald himself. Noticeably specific. I’m not sure Sofia is drawing the same distinction)

The boring teen storyline. Grace has brought Bruce some bratty penthouse.  Bruce is introduced, and sees Tom Elliott is there.  

(An aside – he looks waaaaay older than Bruce.  I googled him to see if I could find an age – but other than discovering that he is also a model, I couldn’t find one)

Anyway – he seems amiable now, and tells Bruce that he deserved the punch on the face.  His character development is literally the only interesting thing here.  The assembled rich bratty teens ask Bruce what he does for fun.  He delivers this cringey line:

I used to walk on rooftops and fight crime but now I’m not so sure

Moving on…….

The other guy there (Brant? Was this guy’s name actually Brant?  That’s not a name.  That’s not even a dog name.  That’s some sort of cabinet from Ikea) tries to provoke Bruce by insulting Alfred. Bruce imagines attacking him, but doesn’t.  Brant continues to behave like a tool – as he was doomed to do from the moment his parents named him ‘Brant’, but the rest of the party tries to smooth things over, and they go off to some club.  Whatever.

 Jim nears the abandoned courthouse.  He’s unimpressed when Headhunter strolls up – telling him that Harvey told him where he was going, and even less impressed when full backup arrives.

(An aside – while Jim might well be annoyed because he thinks Headhunter is heavy-handed (although this is really rich from Jim) and because he doesn’t like the cooperation between criminals and police (except when it suits him) – the impulse from Harvey is clearly that he doesn’t want Jim charging in alone, which is understandable, given last week.)

Oswald gets out of a car, and heads for Jim.  He thanks him for leading the way, but then tells him that we’ll take it from here.  Jim bristles, and we cut to another scene while they have another public domestic squabble.

 Babs is counting money out for Tabitha, commenting that it looks as though Tabitha doesn’t trust her. Tabitha takes a call from Selina – and hears about the mess she’s in.  Tabitha tells Barbara that Selina needs help, but Barbara isn’t interested. Tabitha says Selina only did this to prove their team could work – but Barbara points out that getting caught proves it doesn’t.  Tabitha says that Selina only wants a purpose and a home, but Barbara sneers.  Tabitha says she thought she could maybe think about someone other than herself, but Barbara just sneers again, and watches Tabitha leave.

 Oswald is boasting to some assembled reporters about the success of his consultancy service – Pax Penguina taken to a tactical level – while Jim fumes nearby.  Harvey is telling him that he wasn’t about to let him go in alone, and this way Oswald’s thugs take all the risk – but Jim isn’t interested.

Jim’s phone rings. Oh, joy, it’s Pyg – who’s as talky as Jervis but far less entertaining.  He tells Jim that he spells his name with a ‘y’ because Pygmalion. Yes, whatever.  I hate this guy so much.  Long story short – the courthouse is a trap.  Before he finishes the call – he tells Jim that ‘he’s one of the good ones’, echoing exactly Vizzoli’s voice and words from earlier.  Jim yells to Harper to call the hospital.  Pyg has ripped off Silence of the Lambs, and done this, but with less style.

Bruce and co arrive at the club.  Brant can’t get in.  Bruce brushes past, buys the club, tells Brant he can’t come in.  Don’t caaaaarrreeeee.

 Jim runs over to Oswald and Harvey, who are waiting outside the courtroom.  He tells them to call it off – the guy in the ambulance was Pyg in disguise.  He fed Jim the clue – it’s a trap.  Oswald, incredulous, asks why the insane serial killer who is targeting cops would warn Jim.  Jim says because he’s against dirty cops.  Oswald sarcastically replies except for all the times you are one.

Jim has no answer for that – and hopefully it stings even more given the Sofia situation.  He asks them again to call it off.  Oswald suggests that Pyg is trying to save himself by stopping the raid, and Jim is being played – not for the first time.  I’m guessing this is an allusion to Theo.

Jim says again that they called the hospital, and there’s no way Pyg could have beaten him back here from the ambulance.  It makes no sense that Oswald and Harvey didn’t acknowledge this point, to be honest, they’re both more cautious than Jim.

Harvey insists they have visual (er, why didn’t he say this earlier?).  Jim insists again that it’s a trap.  They all squabble some more.  Jim says that he’s not going to clean up Harvey mess on this one which, again, wow Jim.  Harvey, angry tells him to stand down.  Oswald says this is the first useful suggestion Harvey’s made. Harvey starts to mobilise while Jim and Oswald have a stare at each other.

 Barbara saves the day at the biker warehouse.  It looks like she’s just going to take the money, but she’s seemingly changed her mind, and they strut out – now a team, heading ‘back to the nest’.  Selina is thrilled.  I’ve just spent as much time and care on that summary as the show has on this storyline.  Sirens is coming.

Harvey leads a team into the courthouse.  Someone in a Pyg mask – who is pretty clearly a bound and gagged cop – yells and sort of wriggles. Harvey shoots – and then we see that it’s actually Patel.

Harvey is broken up

No…oh no.

It’s a set-up.  When a chain/rope is tripped, a machine gun is triggered, which sprays the whole area with bullets.  The exits are blocked.

Outside – the news is delivered that they’re all trapped.  Oswald tells his men to get in there – but they refuse.  Jim glances at him, and runs in.  Oswald stares after him, both irritated that his own men have been bested, and not entirely happy about Jim running into a trap.

There’s general carnage inside, but Jim manages to disable the machine gun. He looks over the bodies lying on the ground.  Harvey looked beaten.

At GCPD, Oswald is being interviewed by reporters and trying to clarify that Harvey gave the order to proceed – not him.  As Jim arrives, the reporters stream away from Oswald, and ask Jim how he found the courage to run in there.  He ignore that, and says clearly that if Pyg is watching, GCPD will take him down. Oswald and Jim have another stare at each other.  For the love of God, boys – just kiss and make up.  This storyline is tiresome.

(An aside –  a lot of this is actually pretty personal.  You could argue that Oswald has taken Jim’s role away from him because he’s harbouring resentment and hurt over Jim’s actions when he was infected.  Jim can’t be trusted to be the protector anymore – and Oswald will drive that message home by adopting the role himself.  Additionally, Jim is smarting because he arguably recognises how personal this is.  Everything is charged with history and familiarity)

Jim approaches Harvey, and tells him Patel is going to make it.  Harvey congratulates him, telling him bitterly that he’s a hero, while he’s just a cop who shot a cops.  He wanders off.  

Jim’s phone rings.  It’s Pyg.  He tells Jim that he’s amazing, that they want the same things, blah blah blah. He says that his work will be a saga, an epic, a spectacle – all inspired by Jim, his muse.  Fuuucckkk offfffff.  Please. Mercy.  Any other criminal.  Anyone.

 Oswald is back at the Iceberg Lounge with Headhunter, who is still talking.  He is standing very, very still – which should be a huge red flag, but he’s not very bright, and makes the mistake of mentioning that Jim was right. Oswald turns and stabs him twice, commenting that the second one (the same way he killed Frankie Carbone, I think?) is his signature.  He walks away

Back at the club I don’t care about, Bruce goes off the rails.  Isn’t this Smallville Lex’s backstory just before the series starts? Careful Bruce.  You’ll be all dissolute, but then all contrite and tortured, and have to go and live in the country and be in the weirdest retelling of Jane Eyre ever with an abnormally handsome alien.

Back at GCPD Harper thanks Jim.  He tells her she’d have done the same.  We also see the cop Jim was fighting with at the Narrows rejecting one of the crime licenses.  He nods over to Jim, and Jim nods back.  Harvey watches blearily from the balcony while knocking back another drink.  He looks a very specific kind of drunk which I can only describe as ‘sodden’.  He gives Jim a look that communicates pain, bitterness, self-hatred and betrayal all at once, and staggers into his office.  Jim watches him go.

General Observations

Hmmm.  Not so keen on this week’s episode.  There was a lot of people suddenly being very stupid just because the plot needed them to, as well as copious conflict balls, and unnecessarily poor communication.

So.  Harvey and Jim.  I’m having some problems with this current plotline.  Problems like – it’s almost completely inconsistent with what we’ve seen since season one.  

First of all, Harvey – like every other police officer in GCPD, including Jim, is not clean.  Jim knows this.  In fact, Harvey’s willingness to break the rules has often been to Jim’s benefit, usually because Harvey is often cleaning up the mess left behind by Jim’s headstrong and reckless actions – or participating against his own better judgment, to make sure that Jim comes out alive.

I can buy that Jim feels personally stung by Harvey taking Oswald’s money because his whole conflict with Oswald is personal – but his lack of understanding, his censoriousness, his apparent rejection of all the times Harvey covered for him, and saved his neck – why?  Jim confided in Harvey that he murdered Galavan when he didn’t even tell Lee. Harvey broke Jim out of jail. Harvey knows Jim went to Falcone and didn’t do anything about it.  But suddenly he doesn’t get any understanding?

It’s the same old problem with Jim.  I don’t know whether the show wants me to swallow that he’s a hero, or whether I’m to be outraged by his hypocrisy.  I’m going to say that I’m to believe he is capable of heroic behaviour – but that this doesn’t make his other sins go away, and there will be a debt to pay for his dealings with Sofia.

Oswald and Sofia.  He just seemed irritated with her this week to the point where I’m not sure why he’s hanging around the Orphanage at all.  I’ve read elsewhere that Sofia’s big reveal/drama moment isn’t until episode 11.  That’s going to be a hell of a lot of wheel-spinning until then, if we continue like this.

Other than Selina’s evident delight at two proxy mothers – I don’t much care about the nascent Sirens.

As for Bruce. Nope.  Brant

No Victor.  I feel personally wronged.

Thoughts?

[artemis-entreri]

Hey mun! Imagine a hitchhikers guide to the galaxy version of entreri!

[[ Hi Anon, sorry about the delay in responding to this question. The truth is, I’m somewhat ashamed to admit that I’ve never read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and don’t have any immediate plans to do so. XD;; I have seen at least one movie iteration of it (that I can remember anyway), but the impression that I’ve gotten from fringe awareness of the book is that it’s far too complex and involved to really be done full justice to (or explained) in one movie. I’ve tried reading the Wiki about it, but I felt much the same way as I did when I watched the movie: that it was something so intricate that its nuances could really only be fully appreciated and understood through multiple readings of the book. My confusion and subconsciously-formed higher regard for the Hitchhiker’s Guide could just be due to my having associated with a group of people that at times seemed truly to believe that the book contained the answer to life, the universe and everything (which I suppose it does literally, as it mentions the number 42 multiple times ;P). Joking aside, I don’t feel qualified to explore this particular thought experiment, as I’m too unfamiliar with the context, especially as the context seems to be monumentally huge. That being said, I will try to the best of my ability to address this somewhat, especially as it’s taken me so long to respond, and to do this, I’ll focus on the one premise in the book that I do know reasonably well: the destruction of the main character’s home planet for the sake of a larger-scope project. I’m not familiar with all the details about how that event colors his specific reactions to the other characters that he meets and the nuances of how those specific interactions go on to affect his position and perspective. Thankfully however, it seems quite obvious that Artemis Entreri is a very different character from Arthur Dent, and Toril/Abeir-Toril is even more different from Earth.

First, I need to first clarify, then put aside, the fact that the destruction of Entreri’s home planet would be very very difficult, if not nigh impossible. While it is the case that the destruction of Toril has been threatened more than once throughout the history of the Forgotten Realms, what always seems to end up happening is that the entity or entities driving that motion gets thwarted by the pantheons of gods, demi-gods, ancient beings, other extremely powerful entities, the teamwork of a large amount of not-as-powerful entities, and/or some combination of all of the above. Then there’s the issue of the countless planes and their respective layers, among which is Toril’s duality with its twin Abeir in the Prime, all of which would further complicate the total destruction plan, which isn’t to say that it is completely impossible. However, given the power levels involved in vaporizing all of that, we’d be talking about the pantheonocide of deities, an event so catastrophic that it’d be extremely difficult for a (more or less) mere mortal (especially one without a towel) to escape from. If he did, it would be even less likely for there to be another more-or-less mundane creature to rescue him. Being adrift in the empty vacuum of space would grant a quick death indeed, hence rendering the premise of this whole topic null and void (no pun intended ;P). Now if the improbablity drive were being used nearby, obviously all bets would be off, however I’m not sure I want to explore that particular scenario.

So let’s say then that Abeir-Toril is destroyed, and Entreri manages to get away because a Spelljammer ship happened to be in the vicinity and there’s someone on it with a vested interest in saving him from total annihilation for whatever reason. I really can’t see Jarlaxle not also getting away from the destruction of their homeworld, in which case what would follow would basically be The Sellswords, but IN SPACE! However, for the sake of this thought experiment, we’ll say that didn’t happen and Entreri is the only former Torilian to have survived the planet-destruction catastrophe. Whew, what a mess, and poor poor assassin! He’s already got such a hard time handling his familiar surroundings, and even there he doesn’t have a concept of security and peace, so literally tossing him into space with all of his pre-existent issues would be a very difficult thing for him to bear (yet sadly appropriate because he seems to be the go-to character for extreme and/or prolonged torturous experiences). I think that, given how he’s tired of living that the thought to terminate his life would certainly cross his mind, but his self-preservation instincts are so ingrained that he’d have a hard time actually doing so. Entreri would want to die on his terms alone, but pitched into a totally different environment none of the conditions would be his own, and his sensibilities wouldn’t allow himself to give in to a situation like that. Not to mention in a completely foreign environment, the sense of perpetual danger would be great, which would trigger his competitive survival tendencies, leading him to be caught up in a huge endeavor to try to create some semblance of security for himself before he even realizes it. In his struggle to fight to have things on his terms, or more importantly, to not be on someone else’s terms, he would inevitably get himself stuck in an endless feedback cycle until he becomes what he’s always been no matter where he goes: a respected and feared entity that is given a wide berth.  

There’s of course the question of personal attachments, and where Hero left off, we’re supposed to believe that Dahlia is Entreri’s soulmate and their relationship is his Happily Ever After. I find this highly unlikely, but it wouldn’t be unreasonable for Entreri to be romantically involved with someone as well as having other attachments at the point of the conjectured destruction of his world. Upon losing those connections, so suddenly and compounded by the loss of everything that he’d ever known, he would despair, I mean who wouldn’t? It might come close to breaking him, but he’s gone through so many outrageously traumatic things in his life that “coping” mechanisms would kick in automatically even if he doesn’t will it consciously. In his anger, he might consider killing whomever destroyed his life as he knew it, but he would also quickly realize the impracticality of attempting such, for whom or what ever is capable of destroying an entire planet and its gods could squash him like a bug. He’d be giving up his life for something pointless as well as dying on someone else’s terms, and while Entreri has his pride and vengeful nature, he’s also not stupid. It’s true that the being directly responsible for destroying Earth, and presumably Toril in our thought experiment, is the equivalent of a construction worker who would be an easy target for Entreri to hit if Entreri could get to him, Entreri would also realize that there’d be very little point to trying to kill an individual that he knows nothing about in a society in which he has to relearn everything. So let’s say that Entreri eventually learns that the people who ordered the destruction of his planet are not warriors or mages and would be as vulnerable to his deadly blades as any commoner on the streets of Calimport, there would be little point in exacting revenge against them because hostility was nowhere near their motives when they destroyed the planet (they even put the paperwork on file and warned the Earth/Toril, it’s not their fault that the people of Earth/Toril didn’t go to Alpha Centauri to read those notices). The entire situation would be horribly ironic and Entreri would most likely be stuck in a state in which he wouldn’t know whether to laugh or rage. Rather than losing himself to impotent rage and the lack of a viable target to exact vengeance against, he’d more or less resign himself to reality, even if it would take a while. Entreri’s a very old man by human standards, and although his body hasn’t aged, it’s very apparent that he feels it on an emotional level. Most of his years have not been kind to him, inflicting on him way more mental scars than physical ones, so he probably feels a perpetual state of tiredness. This is in direct tension with his competitive drive, but I think that long term, he would (continue to) suffer from depression and PTSD, but he wouldn’t lose his edge. He’d try to make the most of everything in the way that he does, which isn’t healthy nor exemplary, but it’s what he does: spend a lot of time listening to conversations in space taverns and nursing all sorts of alien brews. It wouldn’t be out of the question for him to become one of those Sci-Fi space mercenaries/assassins garbed in fantasy medieval-esque cloak and leathers but dual-wielding energy blades, always managing to dwell ominously in the darkest corners despite the pervasive phosphorescent lighting. He could even become a dual-wielding gunslinger, as he prizes efficacy and efficiency, and melee weapons fall short when dependable range weapons exist (blunderbusses exist in the Realms, however are very unstable and undependable, hence why guns never caught on there). However, that’s a separate subject entirely

To my understanding, one of Arthur Dent’s biggest struggles with what happened to him is that his homeworld was a simple one-sentence notation in the annals of the universe. Abeir-Toril wouldn’t be that way, but even if it were, I don’t think Entreri is attached enough to it to really care about just how significant others found his world. I could see him finding some grim sort of amusement if it turned out that his world and all of its gods were in fact insignificant in the grand scheme of the universe/multiverse, since that’s sort of in line with his personal outlook. Entreri’s insignificance both disheartens him and allows him to draw some sort of twisted satisfaction from simply being insignificant. It rubs him the wrong way, but he also recognizes at least subconsciously that he can’t change that no matter how hard he tries and something that would prove that sort of defeatist mindset might bring him a strange sense of validation. And certainly, few things would prove a single entity’s total insignificance than some master race bulldozing over their planet as though it were nothing. So because of this warped satisfaction/validation, Entreri would be able to live on and adapt like he’s always done.

I apologize for the disjointed nature of my answer, my ignorance on this subject matter makes it pretty hard for me to answer, but hopefully I was able to entertain you at least a little. XD ]]