#the smart option would be to cut him out and replace him with another character but i like the underlying drama of him Knowing

[chronickey-luka]

i love writing but im burdened by a chronic state of "He Would Not Fucking Say That" where i need to keep things as close to character as possible and it makes pre-canon content so difficult sometimes. especially when a character's only been around for like. a small part of the series to begin with like i need to build an entire case file on him first.

[avengerscompound]

The Tower: Happily Ever After - 2

The Tower: Happily Ever After An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist | Character Refrence PREVIOUS //

Pairing:  Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1849

Warnings:  Pregnancy and minor language on chapter.

Synopsis: Almost 40 years after Elise Cooper first crashed into Natasha Romanoff outside the library at Columbia University, she and the Avengers are adapting to a near-immortal life together with their large brood of children.  Yet things aren’t perfect.  Life is moving on without them and they’re starting to discover who isolating being immortal can be.When Angela comes and asks Thor to take the throne of Asgard once more, the group leaves Earth in the hopes that they will find their Happily Ever After there.

Chapter 2: Anger Issues

When Marya returned home from school that day we were all ready to meet her.  Marya was sixteen years old, a little taller than I was, with dark hair and light brown eyes - just like Bruce.  Those weren’t the only things she’d inherited from her biological father.  She was extremely intelligent and had been skipped ahead a grade in school.  There had been talk about skipping her ahead more than that, but it wasn’t something encouraged in schools due to the strain it has on children’s emotional and social development.  So instead she was finishing up high school with her peer group while taking college courses as electives.

She also had her own little green problem.

Her powers worked differently from Bruce’s.  She could turn into a hulk, and that transformation could be triggered by extreme negative emotions - not just anger, but when she was really sad or anxious too.  Unlike Bruce though, she never had to worry about sharing her body with another person.  When she changed she was always herself and generally she had such precision control over the transformation that she could do it on command, much as Bruce could after the bonding ceremony all those years ago.

She looked around suspiciously at us as we called her over to the couches by the large window, typically the place where we had family meetings.  It was usually where we spoke to the kids if they had done something they probably shouldn’t have.  We took an approach with our parenting where they didn’t usually get in trouble for misbehaving.  Rather we tried to think of a real-world consequence for what they’d done.  For example, if they were fighting they had to sit down and listen to each other’s grievances and then work out a way to both come to an understanding about how the other feels and try to make each other feel better.  It didn’t always work, but we figured it was better than arbitrarily making them go sit in the corner.  So it made sense that she’d think she was in trouble for something.

“What’d I do?”  She asked, dropping her backpack on the ground while she stood looking at her gathered parents.

“Why don’t you tell us?”  Sam teased.  “And we’ll tell you if that’s it.”

“I’m not falling for that,” Marya snarked, folding her arms across her chest.

“Honey, sit down,” Steve said, gently.  “You’re not in trouble.  We just need to tell you something.”

Marya sat down carefully, looking at everyone with deep suspicion.  “Is someone else pregnant?  Are you trying to populate Earth with just our family?”

“No,” Clint laughed.  “What the hell?”

I rolled my eyes.  “Honestly, honey, I sometimes think the same thing,” I said.  “But that’s not what this is.”

“Your Aunt Angela came to visit today,” Steve explained.  “She’s giving up the throne of Asgard.”

“Does that mean Riley’s going to be queen?”  Marya asked, looking over at Thor.  “I can’t believe my sister’s going to be the queen of a whole other planet.”

Thor shook his head.  “Riley is still too young to rule by Asgardian standards.  My people - our people - would consider that the equivalent of having Zak as their king.  I have to step up and take the lead.”

“Which means, we are moving to Asgard,” Steve finished.  “I know that...”

“What?”  Marya yelped, interrupting Steve as she blinked at us.  “When?”

“Within the month,” Steve said.

“But I have school!”  Marya shouted.  Her fists clenched and she started to turn green at the edges.  “And what about my friends?  You can’t just take me away from everyone I ever knew!”

“Mar,” Bruce said, gently.  “Deep breath.  Get that under control.”

“Don’t tell me how to feel!”  Marya shouted, slamming her hands on the coffee table and sending a large crack through the heavy wood.  I jumped a little, startled at her violent reaction, and the green started to creep into her arms starting at her hands, making her muscles swell and double in size.

Sam moved forward and crouched in front of his daughter, taking both her hands in his and looking into her eyes.  “Marya,” Sam said with a gentle yet commanding tone.  “I know you’re upset, but you need to talk about this rationally.  If you can’t talk about it, you’re gonna have to go to your room to cool off first.”

She started crying and pulled her hands out of his.  “It’s not fair!” She cried.  “I don’t even get a say about whether or not you take me away from my friends.  My whole goddamn planet?”

“Honey,” Steve said, wrapping his arm around Marya’s shoulders.  “I know this is tough.  I really do.  But we’re partially doing it for you.”

“I don’t see how taking me from my friends is somehow supposed to be good for me,” she grumbled.

“Alright, kid,” Natasha said.  “I’m going to give you some harsh truths here.  You’re going to lose them anyway.  Maybe not all of them anytime soon, but the ones you would have kept in your life you’d have had to watch age and die.  Just like we all have done and are with our friends and family.  We want to save you what’s happening with Rose.  We don’t want you to have to fall in love and then watch them fade out while you’re stuck looking like you can’t buy a beer.”

Marya started crying harder and fell into Steve’s side and Wanda glared at Natasha.  “You didn’t have to be so harsh,” Wanda snapped.

“Well babying her wasn’t doing it either,” Natasha argued.  “She needs to hear it.  She might not like it, but going to Asgard is what’s best for her.”

“Can’t I even finish school?”  Marya begged.  “I could stay with Eddie - or Rose.  Or one of my friends.  And then… then I’ll come.”

“There will be school for you on Asgard,” Thor said.  “And it will teach you things that far outreach anything any of you have learned on Midgard.  Riley and Pietro both attend and they learn of the world tree, and alien languages, advanced mathematics, and magic.  You are already holding yourself back to fit in, daughter.  You would never have to hide any part of you in Asgard.  Not your intelligence, and not this -” he tapped her arm where it was still tinged with green.

“And I’ll make it so you can talk to your friends here.  We’ll set up a line of communication,” Tony added.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll make sure my kids don’t go without Tumblr and Instagram.  Imagine how many followers you’ll get posting selfies in Asgard.”

“I already have a tonne of followers, dad,” Marya sniffed.  “I’m a Skjodbærer.”

“Yes, you are,” Tony said.  “And don’t you forget it.  The whole universe is yours.”

“We’ll make sure we come back to visit,” I said.  “We all still have friends here, and places we like to spend our time.”

“Yeah, who’s going to annoy Katie-Kate if I’m not around?”  Clint joked.

Marya let out a small laugh that was still more tears than actual laughter.  “I’m sure she’d hate not being annoyed by you.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Clint said and patted Marya on the thigh.

“We aren’t doing this to punish you, Mar,” Sam soothed.  “I promise.  We’ve all been talking about this for a long time, and we were going to wait, but your dad can’t anymore.  He has to go and rule his kingdom.  And sometimes we have to give up what we want to do for what we need to.”

Marya let out a long slow breath and nodded.  “I know.  I know, dad.  They’re still my friends though and I’m still sad about it.”

“I know,” Wanda said.  “Being sad is normal.”

“Can I have a goodbye party?”  Marya asked.

“Look who you’re talking to,” Tony teased.  “The biggest.”

She sat silently for a moment and nodded again.  “If I really hate it, can I come back again?”

“You need to give it a proper chance,” Steve said.

“I will,” she assured him.  “I just… I don’t…”

“If you really hate it, you can come back,” I said, cutting Steve off before he had a chance to reply.  “We won’t like it, but our kids being happy and healthy is the thing we want most.  We just think… in the long run, this is the best option for that.”

“I know,” Marya said.  She looked around at anyone and kicked at her bag.  “Can I go now?”

“One thing first,” Steve said, tapping the table where she cracked it.  “What are we going to do about this?”

Marya sighed and looked at it.  “I’m sorry,” she said.

“And…?”  Steve pressed.

“And… I’ll go see if I can find someone who can repair it.  If I can’t, I’ll shop for a suitable replacement.  And… and I’ll volunteer at the soup kitchen for the Sundays before we leave as a stand-in for the fact I don’t need to earn money to pay for these things.”

“Good girl,” Steve said.  “Dinner will be at 6.30.”

Marya stood up and grabbed her back.  “Okay.”

“Marya,” I said.  “We love you.”

She smiled a little and nodded.  “I love you all too.”

We watched her disappear up the stairs and Bruce sat back and ran his palms over his scalp.  “I really need to help her deal with her anger.”

Bucky patted his arm.  “It’s usual teen stuff.  We’ve seen it before -” he gestured to me “- we’ll see it again.”

“Yeah, but when any of the others got upset we didn’t have to worry about them breaking the building,” Bruce said.

“Umm… do I need to remind you about that tantrum Riley had that meant we had to remodel her room,” I said.

Bruce chuckled and nodded.  “Right.  I guess.”

“It won’t hurt to work with her more,” Sam said.  “But don’t think that her having a temper is on you.  She’s hyper-intelligent and smart kids often deal with anxiety because they’re always thinking ten steps ahead about all the potential terrible outcomes.”

“Tell me about it,” Tony snarked.

“Yes, Tony, you’re a genius, we all know,” Bucky teased.

“I do not like that I am the reason for her distress,” Thor said.  “We could always go back to how it was before Angela took the throne.”

“And barely get to see you?”  Clint said.  “I don’t fuckin’ think so.”

“That’s not going to happen, Thor,” Steve said.  “We’ve been talking about this for a while.  It’s time.  Sometimes kids have to move because their parents are.  It’s not fun for them.  But she will adapt and it is better it happens sooner than for her to fall into this society's expectations for when she should be doing things.”

Thor nodded, though he didn’t look completely convinced.  

“Alright,” Clint said, clapping his hands.  “Enough about moody teenagers.  We have a lot to work out.”

“It’s going to be a big change,” I said.  “But we’ve gotten really good at those, and in my experience, they always worked out for the best.”

// NEXT

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #171

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the Berserker of El Dorado, a.k.a. the CEO of Amazones, a.k.a. yet another reason why Type Moon should stop designing teenage characters. Like several other servants from Agartha her true name is hidden when you meet her, so expect spoilers below the break.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: The reason they call him that is because you have to resist punching him in the face.

Penthesilea, queen of the Amazons, is a Zealot Barbarian for a whole lot of anger issues and godly boons.

Race and Background

Penth’s the daughter of a god and also fuckign terrifying, so that’s why she’s a Fallen Aasimar. When she fell she got +1 Strength and +2 Charisma, as well as Darkvision which explains the black sclera, Celestial Resistance to radiant and necrotic damage, Healing Hands to keep her golden body in top condition, and the Light Bearer cantrip. Your weapons are glowy, this’ll take care of that for now.

You’re queen, but a queen of the amazons, so modify that Noble background to get History and Intimidation proficiency.

Ability Scores

If you want to be the daughter of a war god you’d better be able to war good, so make sure your Strength is as high as possible. Your Dexterity also better be good, I know jumping is strength-based, but running around in half a suit of armor is dex based. It definitely doesn’t look like armor, but it’s spiked, and a +2 to dexterity will let you use medium armor efficiently. After that is Charisma, you’re a shrewd businesswoman and also fucking terrifying for anyone vaguely greek. Your Wisdom’s also pretty solid, you’re good at sniffing out Achilles, and you’ve got an even keener business sense. Constitution isn’t that solid, you’re kind of a glass cannon, but you’re still pretty solid. Finally, dump Intelligence. Half the time you’re a raging ball of teeth and spikes, the other half you’re a CEO. Neither of those make me want to put much faith in your smarts.

Class Levels

1. First level barbarians start of strong (pun intended) with Rage, beefing up as a bonus action for advantage on strength checks & saves, damage resistance, and a bonus to attack damage. You also get Unarmored Defense, making running around in that outfit a slightly less bad idea. Or it would, if your constitution modifier wasn’t +0.

You also get proficiency with Strength and Constitution saves, as well as two barbarian skills. Athletics because you’re literally an amazon, and Perception to help you find that damnable greek hero.

2. At second level, your Reckless Attacks will help you pierce through that jerk’s magic skin, giving you advantage on all attacks for the round, at the cost of taking attacks at advantage. To be fair, your AC’s probably like 12 right now, so it’s not like it makes him more likely to hit you.

You also get a Danger Sense, giving you advantage on dexterity saves you can see coming, like a fireball. Or a giant careening chariot. Either or.

3. Your brand new Primal Knowledge gives you proficiency with Survival. It’s a dog eat dog world, and now you know how to cook that dog. You also get a Necrotic Shroud as a bonus action, adding necrotic damage to your attacks once per turn for a minute and when you transform you scare the crap out of people nearby if they fail a charisma save. You can transform once per long rest.

On top of your divine blood activating this level, your divine blood activates this level, making you a Zealot barbarian. Your Divine Fury adds even more damage to your attacks once per turn while raging. Pick either necrotic or radiant damage, I’m not your mother, it’s your choice. You also become a Warrior of the Gods, so now reviving you doesn’t cost money. You don’t have a guts skill, so this’ll come in handy.

4. Use your first Ability Score Improvement to become a Dual Wielder, letting you attack with both sides of that giant mace thing using your bonus action. It also gives you +1 AC while dual wielding, that’s nice. Some barbarians have to die to attack with a bonus action, and you got it as a feat.

5. If you want to attack even more, Extra Attack lets you attack twice with your action, so now you can attack three times per turn. Your Fast Movement also adds 10 feet to your movement speed to catch up to that carrot.

6. Your Fanatical Focus lets you re-roll a failed save once per rage. Your golden rule means it’s hard to mess with your body, and this will help with that.

7. Seventh level barbarians get a Feral Instinct, giving you advantage on initiative checks. You can also ignore being surprised if you rage immediately on the first turn of combat. You also get an Instinctive Pounce, moving half your speed when you start a rage. Your rival is basically a manic the hedgehog humansona, so you’ve got to be able to keep up.

8. Use this ASI to bump up your Strength for more damaging and accurate attacks.

9. Ninth level barbs get Brutal Criticals, giving you an extra die of damage when you deal critical hits. Shockingly, giant metal balls hurt when slammed into people. Wild.

10. Tenth level zealots have a Zealous Presence, spending a bonus action once per long rest to inspire nearby creatures to get advantage on attack rolls and saves until your next turn.

11: Eleventh level barbarians get a Relentless Rage to avoid death while raging. If you pass a DC 10 constitution save, you drop to 1 hp instead of 0 and the DC goes up by 5. When you finish a short rest, it goes back to 0. I guess you do have a guts skill after all.

12. Use this ASI to grab the Mobile feat for even more movement speed and the ability to ignore difficult terrain and opportunity attacks. Achilles is really going to have to step his game up here.

13. Another level, another Brutal Critical, making your critical hits even more brutal. Don’t really have a joke for this one, it’s pretty self-explanatory.

14. Fourteenth level zealots can Rage Beyond Death, meaning you can’t die until you stop raging. Damage that takes you to 0 hp still starts the death save train a-rolling, but you don’t die until your rage ends, and even then only if you’re still at 0 hp. It’s a good thing you don’t have the ability to heal yourself right before your rage ends, or that would be busted. Wait...

15. Fifteenth level berserkers get a Persistent Rage, so now your rage only ends if you want it to, or if time runs out, making you immortal for a full minute of combat. Or until someone casts Sleep, a first level spell.

16. For this ASI we’re getting a little experimental with Flail Mastery, a feat from an old Unearthed Arcana. Technically it only applies to flails, but if you can convince your DM to use UA this old you can probably convince him to extend the definition to morningstars too. Anyway, you get +1 to attack rolls, can use your bonus action to negate a shield’s defenses on your attacks for the turn, and your opportunity attacks force a strength save, on a failure the creature gets knocked prone, which eats up half their movement. Not a big deal for a halfling, very big deal for Achilles.

17. Did somebody say Brutal Critical? I did, just now. Speaking of, you get another one of those, meaning your critical hits now deal double the amount of dice plus three extra.

18. Your Indomitable Might means all your strength checks are now at least your strength score, which is pretty freaking good. It’d be even better if we could bump that up higher though...

19. Your last ASI is going towards your str- no, sorry, it’s another feat, now you’re Menacing. This rounds out your Charisma, doubles your proficiency in Intimidation, and you can replace one attack from your action with a contested Intimidation v Insight check against a humanoid. If you succeed, the target is frightened for a turn. Really we’ve just been giving you better versions of the Berserker class features. Shame we couldn’t get that strength up one last time though.

20. Just kidding! Primal Champions get +4 to their strength and Constitution, and your maximum for both scores increases by the same amount so you don’t have to worry about capping out. You also get unlimited rages, so just pop a new one whenever the old one’s about to run out.

Pros:

Your race, plus all those feats you took, give you a lot of options in the middle of combat, even while raging. You can heal yourself, scare people, attack... okay, it’s three things, but that’s two things more than most berserkers.

By the end of the build, you have unlimited rages, and you can’t die while raging. Tack on your healing hands at the end of a battle, and you’re effectively immortal to anyone not packing Sleep. It’s a first level spell, so a lot of people will be packing it, but by the time this combo comes together most people will be using 9th level spells, so they’ll probably overlook it.

You’re also pretty speedy, even compared to other barbarians. 50′ of movement speed and the ability to ignore difficult terrain will make it hard for your to get space between you and it. Even moreso when your opportunity attacks knock it flat on its ass.

Cons:

Before you become an immortal rage machine, you’re pretty squishy thanks to your low constitution score. I mean, squishy compared to other barbarians. You’re still rocking almost 200 HP and rage protection, but it means you’re not quite as tanky as Herc. Until you hit level 20.

We picked up a lot of Feats in this build, so that’s a good part of the reason why your ability scores are so low compared to other builds. Your fighting style only cares about strength and charisma, but if you get in a business meeting you can’t scare your way out of you’re going to have a rough time.

You have absolutely no way of dealing magical damage. You might be able to eke out some chip damage with Divine Fury and Necrotic Shroud, but if you go up against something with resistance or immunity to nonmagical weapons you’re going to have a bad time. It’s lucky you’re not super pissed at someone who literally has that as their defining feature, huh?

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 5x02-- Once there was a court...

Season five is off to a great start. I’m feeling more energized about TGF than I have in ages, maybe since the beginning of season three. After the mostly standalone premiere, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the rest of the season. Episode two introduced a lot of new elements that I’m intrigued by and excited about, so here’s hoping the rest of the season can sustain that energy. (Many) more thoughts under the cut.

And, again, since the most consistent thing about Tumblr is its inability to roll out new features that are actually helpful, here is a link to view the post so you don’t have to read it all on your dash. (Omg, Tumblr, not only do you force people to keep reading on their dashes but you also jump down to the middle of the post when the full version opens? Do you have ANYONE beta test these features?)

Reddick/Lockhart is bustling when the episode opens. The fact they’re calling it Reddick/Lockhart seems like an indication that Liz chose to partner with Diane—it's not. The firm just needs a name, and it can’t have Boseman in it. (The signage still says RBL... for now.)

Everyone in reception is talking animatedly, except for Carmen Moyo, who’s just taking it all in. You might be tempted to read her as nervous. You would be very, very wrong. But we don’t know that now. Right now, it wouldn’t be wrong to assume she’s Maia 2.0. This scene strongly parallels Maia’s first day at the firm (opening with the reception saying “Good morning” and the firm name, then showing new associates waiting for an orientation by David Lee). And in that scene, Maia is absolutely nervous, like you’d expect a new hire might be.  

Carmen focuses on another associate’s hand. I assume this is meant to be a parallel to how Maia fidgets with her rosary ring in that initial scene. Carmen then peels a price tag off her portfolio—possibly another Maia parallel, since the portfolio Diane gives Maia is such an important symbol in Maia’s arc.

I also see shades of Alicia and her first scene here—Alicia's silent and focuses on small details (the thread on Peter’s jacket) too.  

I don’t say any of this in hopes of comparing Carmen directly to either of those characters. Carmen is not like any other character this show has had before. But these parallels are quite good at establishing character, building intrigue, and showing contrast (even if you don’t see them as parallels, we’re still getting a lot about Carmen just from watching her reactions, even if we don’t yet have the context to understand how to read Carmen). Since I’m now thinking about Maia and Alicia, I’m also now thinking about how Carmen is different from them and triangulating her spot in this universe—that's a good thing. She’s not a copy of either character, but I understand a little more about what the writers are telling me about her from the parallels.

The RBL sign in the background is being taken off the wall. It falls and adds even more chaos to reception.

David Lee walks in and screams, “Stand up! Those seats are for clients.” This is the exact same language he uses in the 1x01 scene; this is definitely an intentional parallel.  

Btw Carmen already has more personality than Maia and she’s been in one episode so far! I didn’t hate 1x01 Maia, but I will say that nearly everything that intrigued me about early Maia was that I could project more about Alicia (whom I, obviously, care a lot about) onto her. I can and will compare Carmen to Alicia, but when I do, it won’t be because Carmen is an interesting lens through which to analyze Alicia... it will be because Alicia is interesting precedent to use to understand Carmen.  

I still hate Maia, yep.

David Lee accidentally instructs a client to stand and then has to save face, heh.  

In David’s tour of the office, we see the partners squabbling. Sounds about right. And STR Laurie is still a thing, which explains why David is there (though not why he is giving a tour).  

Throughout the tour, we get a lot of shots of Carmen. Again, she’s silent and looks like she could be nervous. (Spoiler: this is a fakeout and when you rewatch this scene, you can see what new cast member Charmaine Bingwa is doing here—expertly putting on a face that looks like anxiety in one context, but is actually just Carmen calmly sizing things up.)

Marissa eagerly joins the tour. “That’s right. They’re letting you play lawyer, Marissa. How nice,” David says. Carmen takes this in, too. “Fucking prick,” Marissa mutters. Carmen hears.

David Lee introduces “someone from HR” which is a great sign that HR is very effective at this firm.  

In the conference room, the partners are still arguing about who should replace Adrian. Diane tries the “all options are open to us and we plan to decide in the next 48 hours” strategy, but this audience is too smart for that. Madeline asks about the new leadership structure. (I am kind of hoping that one nice side effect of having to kind of shoot the season in a COVID bubble will be that we’ll get more small recurring characters. Madeline’s been around for a little while but we’re already seeing her get to do more this year.)

“Diane and I are going to run the firm together. For now,” Liz says. Oh, no, Liz, do not open the door to change. Letting the partners know you’re not sure is probably the worst strategy. You’ve gotta decide or they’ll sense weakness.  

“Just the two of you? A black firm being run by a white woman?” a partner asks. “Well, I’m not running it alone. I’m here to assist Liz,” Diane says, trying to deflect. “Really? Because she needs assistance?” he counters. Diane doesn’t know what to say, but she and Liz both know these questions aren’t going to go away.

HR is running an orientation for the new hires and it involves having them all take pieces of toilet paper. Man, I hate ice breakers. Carmen takes a moderate amount and then passes it to Marissa, who takes only one square. Carmen notes this and makes eye contact with Marissa. And this is where it starts to become obvious that Carmen is not nervous—just observant and not chatty. Carmen knows Marissa is one to watch from how David reacted to her presence. She gives Marissa a look that’s meant to be noticed and start a conversation. It works, and Marissa explains that for each square you take, you have to share a fact about yourself. Carmen hates this and hides the rest of the toilet paper so she only has one square.  

Liz tries to say there will be a discussion about the partnership, and Daniel (that’s what the captions call him, though they do reference him as “Barry” at one point but I'm like 99% sure I know which actor is Barry and it’s not him) says it feels like they’re just being told what the new state of things is. Liz says she hears him but right now they need a senior associate to backfill Lucca.

Daniel doesn’t think they need one. I don’t get why, unless it has to do with the budget cuts.  

“We need someone with real experience to take on her caseload,” Liz notes. Hell yeah you do!

Liz asks if any of the partners want to take over family law. None do.  

After the meeting, Liz asks Diane if she can call a head hunter. Diane approves. David Lee pops up to ask which one of them is taking Boseman’s office and they haven’t discussed it yet. I love that they managed to order a sign with their names on it before they’ve talked about how being partners will actually work.  

(Also, Adrian’s office is quite obviously going to end up with Liz. And it would be weird if it were Diane, anyway, because it’s Diane’s old office from Lockhart/Gardner and it would look it if she sat there again lol)

David notes that an empty corner office looks like failure. He is correct. He gives them until Friday to decide.

Marissa does not like the ice breaker at all and pointedly notes she only has one secret, and it is that she used to be married to a mime. She makes a whole bit out of it and then whispers to Carmen, “I usually just make things up.”  

Carmen’s next and she finally gets to speak her first words of the series. You know who else didn’t speak at all in her first scene? Alicia Florrick. Very different scenes, but I can’t help but think this is intentional. From what I’ve seen of Carmen, both she and Alicia use silence strategically and are comfortable with quiet. Alicia’s first scene is silent because she doesn’t need to use words to be expressive, but it does establish that she’s going to be a character with a lot of internal thoughts she won’t vocalize and that she’s observant and tries to maintain composure. Sure, you can watch the first scene of Pilot and just see a woman who’s stunned into silence, but when you watch it knowing Alicia and realize how much of the essential parts of her character are in her totally silent intro sequence that kicks off the show... it’s kind of amazing.

So comparing Carmen’s introduction to that? I mean this as a huge compliment. Carmen deploys silence for reasons both similar and different to Alicia. While Alicia uses silence to maintain some kind of boundary between her inner thoughts and the outside world, Carmen uses it to get a chance to observe and take things in without showing her cards. (We do see Alicia do that as well, especially at work, but I would call this a side-effect of Alicia being a quiet person rather than her intention; Carmen seems to be more conscious of how she uses her silence.)  

Carmen is from Victorville, California. That means nothing to me but I’m sure there’s some significance. Carmen mimics Marissa’s response when asked for her secrets—she also responds with, “secret,” emphasizing she only has one. But what she says next also shows her in contrast to Marissa. She says her secret is she hates games. We already know so much about her and she’s said like ten words!  

I think it’s smart to set Carmen up as a contrast to other characters. I know who Carmen is not because of how she differs from more familiar presences like Alicia, Maia, and Marissa. Marissa hates ice breakers, but her reaction to them is to use them as an opportunity to say something funny and over the top. Many others (including probably both Alicia and Maia) would likely resent the activity but play along and say something unremarkable (I could see Alicia overthinking it and sharing something surprisingly quirky though!). Carmen just does not give a fuck, and in a different way than Marissa doesn’t give a fuck. Marissa insinuates that she thinks the whole activity is stupid... Carmen just flat out says it. I would not pull this move on my first day of a new job! And that is the point—who is this person who is so self-assured she’s willing to insult HR on her very first day of her very first job as a lawyer?  

ALL OF THIS FROM A FEW WORDS AND SOME WELL-ACTED GLANCES! As I said, I’m very intrigued by Carmen. I have some questions about the logistics of this plot, her endgame, and how she’ll function when brought into the firm drama/debate plots, but for now, I only have good things to say.  

Liz interrupts the ice breaker to announce that everyone will be assigned a mentor. She then pauses to greet Marissa, which Carmen, again, notices. Liz is really there to say that they’ll be working on client maintenance that day, and each new hire will get to help with one of their clients. When she reads off their top clients, all the hands shoot up—except Carmen’s.

Madeline’s last name is Gilford. Noted. John’s last name is Wilson.  

No one raises their hand to assist with Oscar Rivi, who is in a maximum-security prison. Carmen confidently raises her hand.  

Barry’s last name is Poe. Noted.

Marissa and Carmen exchange glances. Super curious to see how this evolves. There are too many Marissa/Carmen exchanges in this episode for the writers to not plan to have them interact more in the future.

I’m kind of loving that it seems like the show’s leads are now Diane, Liz, Marissa, and Carmen. Diane’s obviously great, Liz is someone who’s been deserving of leading material for ages, Carmen seems interesting, and I’m so impressed they have managed to make Marissa, usually good in small doses, into a character who can handle larger plots without wearing on my patience (like that awful Elsbeth centric episode of Wife).  

Diane has a client who received a summons directly, which Diane finds strange. But, since she is already working with this client on the same case (teaching kids during COVID) in another court, Diane is optimistic about this second suit. She thinks it could set a good precedent.  

Diane introduces Phoebe, an associate who will help out on the case. Diane says she’s not personally going because it’s a formality and Diane needs to work on the brief. I’m like 99% sure Diane isn’t personally going because Diane’s role here is to convince the client she’s getting senior-level attention while having junior people do the work, but nice story!  

Diane asks Marissa to go along with Phoebe. Marissa thinks she’s going to get to argue in court... Diane says no, Marissa gets to hand hold a client.  

Oscar Rivi is basically Lemond Bishop, which is the only explanation I have for why RL would represent him. And, you’ll recall, I didn’t understand why RL would represent Bishop either. But we’ll just have to go with it.  

(I think representing multiple drug lords is probably a bigger PR issue for RL than having a white partner! How come no one ever talks about this! Actually, new complaint: wasn’t Liz, who now has more power than before, the one who was most against representing Bishop?)  

(I guess it may make sense that she’d be more okay with this Rivi dude than Bishop. Whatever Rivi’s done, I don’t think he’s threatened Liz’s kid like Bishop did!)  

(Also, I’m fine with them switching it up and suddenly having this new drug kingpin. Mike Colter is obviously unavailable since he’s a lead on Evil, and I was tired of Bishop anyway. If the writers stop using Bishop and Sweeney as shorthands for corruption I will be very happy; I don’t think there’s much more mileage left there. Speaking of, Dylan Baker popped up in 2x02 of Evil!)  

“I don’t want you to be intimidated,” Barry tells Carmen as they arrive at Rivi’s prison. Carmen reads articles about Rivi on her phone, saying she’s taking notes. Barry tells Carmen to “sit, listen, leave.” But then he discovers his ID is expired (he didn’t get it renewed during the pandemic) and he can’t go visit Rivi as a result. Carmen says she’s fine alone—she'll sit, listen, leave. She’s calm and not at all cocky as she says it, and it really takes until she’s actually talking with Rivi to realize that she’s not (just?) a hypercompetent law school grad trying to impress. She doesn’t seem to care at all what people, no matter how powerful, think of her, as long as she’s able to find security of any sort. (Tbh, it is kind of amazing she doesn’t get fired in this episode.)  

(I’m getting ahead of myself but in Alicia’s first ep, she also changes up strategies on the partners. Alicia does it almost without realizing she’s gone against their wishes—she's just sure of the right strategy—and Carmen does it much more intentionally.)  

Marissa and Phoebe can’t locate Judge Wackner’s court. Marissa asks a security guard she’s friendly with (of course she is) for help. He says there’s no Judge Wackner there, and the security guard notices that it’s a summon for a “9 ¾ Circuit.” The guard laughs at the Harry Potter reference; Marissa is not amused. They leave the courthouse when Marissa spots a sign for “9 ¾". She follows the sighs down an alley. Phoebe wants nothing to do with this; Marissa and the client are intrigued. They end up in a store called Copy Coop and are directed to a warehouse.

In the warehouse, an argument is resolved through Rock, Paper, Scissors. Then it’s Marissa’s turn. She asks for a continuance just like she was supposed to, but she uses the wrong phrasing. Judge Wackner notices. That’s when Marissa notes she’s not a lawyer, and Wackner responds that he’s not a licensed judge. So it’s fine that Marissa isn’t a lawyer.  

Marissa tries to protest again that she’s not a lawyer, and Wackner basically tells her to proceed anyway. The client wants to stay, weird as this fake court seems.

Carmen reads with Rivi. She stares at him, getting him to speak first. His translator asks if there’s another lawyer with her; she just introduces herself. The translator does a terrible job of translating Rivi’s complaints, sharing very little of what Rivi said with Carmen.

Unsurprisingly (to me at least, because scenes like this ALWAYS have the twist where a character doesn’t let on that they speak the language until the exact right moment), Carmen speaks Spanish.

She lets Rivi know she speaks Spanish AND insults the translator in one go. Pretty big move. That gets Rivi’s attention and he kicks out the translator. He asks who she is and she repeats her name again (characters reacting like this will never not remind me of “Who are you?” “Kalinda.”).

Carmen notes that she’s just out of law school, explaining that’s why she’s eager to help. She doesn’t reveal that by mistake—she's using it to her advantage.  

Credits! As I predicted, things are blowing up again this week like normal. No more kittens and puppies. There’s a new couch that blows up in the credits. Wackner’s desk also makes it in. I can’t remember if the purses were in this position before; they might be new. All the exploding TVs show footage of January 6th (which I hear is going to be a major theme of the season, though it’s not heavily featured in this episode). And the zoomed in shot of the closet (that I’ve never really liked) is gone, as is the falling curtain!  

I still hate the font of the logo for this show. I also don’t understand why the show seems to have three logos—the one that’s the TGW logo but with “fight”, the one in the credits, and whatever the one they’ve come up with for this season’s marketing materials is. I like that they’re trying with the marketing of this season but I don’t get why the show has three logos.  

While I’m talking about the marketing, can we just talk about the “Goodbye Lucca” graphic the official social media account posted? It had a fucking crown drawn over her head like this is a 2013 Tumblr shitpost!!! Who are they targeting with this?! WHO ARE THEY MARKETING TO? DOES THIS WORK ON ANYONE??? It literally says, “Chi-Town” on it. I cringed so hard. Sometimes I feel like the marketing of this show is meant to cater to the people who would, like, watch the credits of last week’s episode and be like, “Yes! It IS all now puppies and kittens! Everything bad in the world has been resolved!”  

But hey, at least it’s better than the absolute trash they used to post for TGW. Remember when there’d be episodes about Alicia making career moves and they’d be like, “#TeamPeter or #TeamWill????”  

OR, OR OR OR, the fucking time they tried to crosspromote TGW and the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show (yes) with a tweet that read, “All ‘Saint Alicia’ needs is a pair of wings&she practically turns into an Angel.” I... have no words.  

Hey, Caleb is back! I was not expecting them to actually wrap up his arc with Liz. I think I’m actually pretty thankful it’s ending like this—he comes back for what I assume is one last episode and I don’t actually have to deal with the Liz/Caleb plot. Apparently the writers were setting that up so they could do some plots about power dynamics and interracial couples and who is seen as having power. Caleb and Liz were going to have an encounter with the police, who were going to listen to Caleb instead of Liz even though this encounter would’ve taken place in Liz’s house and Liz is the name partner and Caleb the employee. Interesting enough, but anything boss/employee just squicks me out and I don’t need it around and Liz deserves better.

But I did like Caleb as a character, so I’m glad he gets an exit, unlike past characters who have just disappeared. (Remember Robyn Burdine? Or that time Taye Diggs was a major character for two seconds?)  

Liz was NOT expecting to see Caleb as a candidate for Lucca’s old role. Things are instantly awkward. I guess Caleb left STR Laurie?  

Diane immediately senses that things are awkward with Liz and Caleb. Caleb is very professional throughout all this. Diane gets an important call and leaves the room, so Caleb and Liz can chat privately.  

Caleb says he thought Liz was reaching out; Liz says she should’ve reached out but things ended abruptly. Love that Caleb checks that no one else is in the room with Liz before getting even more personal. He says they should just act like nothing ever happened between them and Liz asks if he can do that. “I’m the employee. Of course I can,” he says. This is why you don’t sleep with employees.  

He says he really does want the job and he liked the firm. Liz says she’ll talk to Diane. Caleb says if it doesn’t work out he’ll be fine.  

Phoebe tells Diane about 9 ¾ and Diane does not understand... at all. “If it has no power, and it doesn’t have jurisdiction, what does it have?” Diane wonders.  

A little more on the case: RL is representing a woman who taught a small group of students during the pandemic, and some parents are suing her for preaching socialism at the children.  

The woman suing did NOT like being called a Karen by her daughter or being compared to the family from Parasite. She wants a refund.  

Marissa objects and makes up her own grounds, realizing that since it’s not a real court, she can object for any reasons she wants—as long as they follow common sense.  

These scenes could so easily feel ridiculous, like a gag that goes on for too long. They do not. There’s just enough zany humor and theatrics to make the 9 ¾ court feel surreal. And, most helpfully, Wackner is a GREAT judge. He is engaged with the work and only concerned with the facts and arguments rather than politics. He’s tough but fair. He’s direct and he maintains control over his court. He’d be one of the best judges in a normal court. His sincerity is enough to make you wonder why courts DON’T operate like this. It’s easy to see why the characters are sold on this BS-free, rational, and effective system, even if it makes no sense that it would exist and it has no power. It’s simultaneously idealistic (if only things were resolved fairly) and threatening (how can something like this exist?! What does it mean that the real courts are so ineffective that there’s a need for something like this?! What happens if this goes beyond what are basically mediations for simple issues?).

This type of thought experiment is where TGF excels. I think they were going for something like this with Memo 618 (which hasn’t gone away!), but that arc always felt like it was on the verge of going off the rails. Mandy Patinkin’s performance and the writing for the 9 ¾ court already have me more invested in this than I was in Memo 618.  

Marissa tries yet again to wait for help to arrive, but Wackner insists that they keep things moving. She tries to stall and ends up referencing George Clooney. Wackner cuts through that, too—he hates speeches “unless I'm giving them, and even then I’m just trying to stall.” Then he holds up a sign that reads, “CUT THE SHIT” and the audience laughs. He says this isn’t the kind of court where you can just run out the clock. Kind of ridiculous that real court IS that kind of court, no? (And that’s why this is an effective device so far.) (I say so far because I have watched content from these writers for long enough to know that things that work in small doses or initially can go wildly off the rails.)  

Marissa changes strategies and does what she does best: she goes on instinct and adjusts her strategy as she goes. She eventually catches the woman accusing her client of teaching socialism in a lie about Parasite. It’s very Legally Blonde and very smart of Marissa. And I’m rather proud of myself for seeing what Marissa was doing (getting the woman to commit to a time frame and then baiting her to talk about a moment that proved the time frame fake) before she revealed what she was doing.  

Sarah Steele is so good in this scene. I love her smile when she realizes the woman took the bait, and that she reacts with “AHA!” instead of something more proper. This is pretty much the perfect court for Marissa.  

Diane and Jay arrive; are confused.  

Carmen leaves Rivi after quite a bit of time has passed, making Barry nervous. Carmen tells him very little and repeats that she sat, listened, and left. She told the translator to go fuck himself (almost in those words) so she’s gotta know that Barry will hear what happened from someone. She does not care. She lies to Barry like it’s nothing.  

Diane does not understand the 9 ¾ court, nor does she understand why a non-lawyer like Marissa is arguing. She does not understand why losing in this venue would matter or why a lawyer she knows (ha, I looked him up to see if he’d been on Wife or Fight before, and he has... as a totally different character!) is there.  

“Okay, I’m losing my mind. Look, this is not legal. We have got to get out of here,” Diane says. Toni, the client, wants to stay.

I don’t actually know the answer to this—would there be repercussions to someone who is a member of the bar participating in something like this? Everyone knows it’s not real or binding, so nothing is being misrepresented, but this FEELS illegal?  

Toni notes that a lot of people suing her are there watching, so walking out or losing would look bad. She also likes Judge Wackner because he is “better than the judges in real court.”

“Diane, what is real?” the client asks when Diane points out again that this court is fake. The client’s spent 8 months on this case in limbo, so this feels like reality to her. Fair point.  

Diane chats with the other lawyer and asks what he’s doing here. He says he’s getting paid—with business down and court dockets backlogged (how much would that affect a large firm that settles most cases out of court? I’m actually curious about this), it’s a good source of money.  

Diane realizes it’s basically arbitration. Then says she doesn’t understand anything anymore. The other lawyer replies, “Sure you do. That’s why this is throwing you. Welcome to 2021.” Yup.  

Diane goes with it. A former teacher is on the stand. He’s got a grudge and wants money, so he’s helping out. He tries to say something that is the most obvious hearsay ever... and Wackner has no problem with it. Marissa likes that.  

Wackner basically says he’s fine with hearsay because he can use his brain to figure out what’s real and what’s fake, just like we all do every day. Crosstalk is also allowed.  

Wackner also doesn’t allow for bullshit breaks where lawyers tell clients what to say, because he “likes the truths found in sudden utterances.” All his rules make a lot of sense. They are all also counter to every single sneaky legal strategy these characters tend to use.

Toni made a comment that she “couldn’t fall in love with anyone who voted for Trump.” That gives a point to the plaintiff. Diane notes that this belief is shared with most of the country, and Wackner asks her if she shares it. “I’m not the question,” Diane replies, because she definitely doesn’t want to talk about her husband who worked in the Trump administration.  

Wackner flat out tells Diane that Marissa should argue instead of her. “Marissa is not a lawyer,” Diane tries to say. “Well, I’m not a judge!” Wackner responds. And that’s it for the day.

Diane asks Jay for intel, and then we get one of the most effective Jay scenes in a while—he bonds with the Copy Coop security guard, who only has good things to say about Wackner. I like how the writers use COVID in this episode—they treat it like it’s recent past (fingers crossed) and reference it when it makes sense, like how the courts are backlogged, or this guard was laid off.  

The security guard notes that he thinks Wackner is building something good in his spare time. He also notes that Wackner is a big Grateful Dead fan.

Carmen takes it upon herself to visit someone else in prison to help Rivi. She points out they’re under surveillance and convinces this other dude to take the fall for Rivi so he can go free. It’s very smart. I assume this is all her own strategy, as we see her look up this other dude before she’s even met with Rivi, though it’s possible Rivi came up with some of it.  

There is something about Carmen’s demeanor when she deals with clients that is very Alicia-like in interesting ways. She’s very direct and unflappable in a way that people seem to take to (remember how all the creeps loved Alicia?), and she only shows emotion when she decides to. The similarities stop there. Carmen doesn’t seem remorseful or conflicted (Alicia always did). Sociopathic definitely isn’t the right word for her, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say it didn’t cross my mind. Carmen knows that her clients are bad guys. That doesn’t trouble her. And she doesn’t try to take the easy way out—she does more than she needs to. I don’t know what she’s really trying to do here, but I suspect she does.  

Carmen is 28, just fyi.  

Liz gets a call from Charles Lester. Obviously, Lester now works for Rivi, because Rivi is New Bishop. (Usually I’m a bit against saying any character is the new version of an old one, like how Lucca was not the new Kalinda (even if she was brought in to bring new energy to the space Kalidna occupied) or how Carmen is not the new Lucca (same), but I’m pretty comfortable saying Rivi is New Bishop. He’s not the same personality, but he... is New Bishop.)  

Lester notes that Rivi only wants to meet with Carmen from now on. Liz does not understand this and she’s not thrilled with it. She notes that Carmen is a first year who has been there for two days, but she doesn’t want to lose Rivi’s business so she goes along with it. Was that Carmen’s endgame? Job security? Does she not care about the RL job and see a good opportunity to... just represent Rivi without a firm behind her? I can’t tell.

(This is where I could see this arc faltering. I get why Liz keeps Carmen on—she doesn’t want to lose the client—but I don’t really understand why Liz wants Rivi as a client. Losing Carmen who’s been there for two days and Rivi who she probably doesn’t want to represent seems like a fine outcome to me. And, beyond that, if Carmen doesn’t care about the firm and also doesn’t need them, what’s in it for her to stay? I don’t think she really cares that the firm would have more resources to use in defending Rivi. Like, why isn’t the outcome here just that Carmen teams up with Lester and leaves RL behind?)

Diane listens to the Grateful Dead and writes down lyrics she can use in court. Kurt gets home from work. Diane asks him if he thinks she should give up her name partnership since it’s a black firm. Kurt asks if she’s the best lawyer there. She says no, but she’s one of the best, and besides, it’s a bad look and she wants to do what’s right for the firm. “You and I disagree on so much. You obviously ask my opinion because you know that I will argue something you know you won’t,” Kurt says. This is a very good, and very accurate, response.

Diane keeps going, though. Kurt plays along and starts talking about identity politics. Diane starts debating back, ignoring that Kurt is not really wanting to play devil’s advocate. Kurt doesn’t give Diane an easy out and tells her she’s right—she should step aside. That’s not what she wanted to hear. Kurt laughs and then goes to take a shower.  

Liz is eyeing Adrian’s office when Carmen walks up. She’s invited Carmen to talk to her. She asks her how things are going. Carmen just wants to know if she did something wrong. Carmen says she likes the firm and it’s great to be out of the legal clinics.  

Liz shares the news that Rivi only wants Carmen going forward. Carmen is pleased and says that’s surprising... though she looks more pleased than surprised.  

Liz suggests maintaining a professional distance, to which Carmen replies “I’m very professional.” “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Liz tries to backtrack. “Is the firm dissatisfied with my work?” Carmen asks bluntly. Liz says no. “It’s my intention to treat all my clients like humans. Even the ones who might be murderers, or definitely are murderers. And I think Mr. Rivi might be responding to that because it’s something that he hasn’t received at this firm previously,” Carmen notes. This is QUITE the tone to take with your boss.

One question I have—and this is mostly inspired by the recap at I think Vulture?-- is to what extent Carmen knows what she’s doing. It seems like a lot. I can’t tell how much Carmen knows vs how much Carmen THINKS she knows. She’s definitely smart, and I don’t think she is an idealist (when she says her intention is to treat her clients like humans, she means that’s her strategy), but she is young and new to the law and only out for herself, which makes her vulnerable.  

Liz does not take well to Carmen’s talk and notes she’s talking about her personal safety. Carmen thanks her and says she’d understand if Liz doesn’t want her on the case.

There is something a little unnerving about Carmen. She keeps saying things that are boldly inappropriate but masked by how professional and correct her arguments sound (like the line about treating clients like humans). And she has a way of gaining power over a conversation. Liz squirms way too much in that conversation and loses some of her control as a result.  

I just need to know more about her!!! The fact that I can’t understand her makes her immediately interesting.  

Diane and Liz interview Julius for Lucca’s position. They all know it would be a demotion for him, but they’re seriously considering it. I feel like this would look awful for the firm and they are going to handwave it anyway after a few lines about how bad it would look.  

Diane quotes the Grateful Dead in court and it works. The other lawyer tries to quote songs too... it does not work.  

Carmen gets Rivi a bunch of candy bars from the court vending machine so he can have a snack he enjoys. The security guard doesn’t want to let Rivi eat them, but Carmen is right that this is permissible. The guard smashes the bars in defeat. Carmen opens one for Rivi.  

It is a little distracting to see the main characters pretend that COVID is in the past when the extras have masks, but honestly, that’s kind of what life is like right now?

Carmen zones out a little in court—not sure if she just does that or if she is trying to look unfamiliar with the rules so people will go easy on her/have low expectations. I think it’s a combination of both, considering that we’ve seen her laser-focus on things elsewhere in the episode AND she tells the judge it is her first day in court.  

Court stuff happens; Carmen’s strategy works.  

The judge tries to give Carmen advice and a warning. Liz is also there, watching, which is good because I was shocked anyone would let Carmen do this unsupervised.  

Carmen is also kind of like if you removed all of Maia’s worst traits (her selfishness, her spoiled brat attitude, her sense of entitlement) and skipped right to her willingness to partner with Blum.

Liz and Carmen talk again, this time about the reputation of the firm. Liz notes that Carmen is clearly capable and reminds her sternly that she needs to conduct herself in a manner that does not put the firm at risk and that’s the only reminder she’s going to get. Carmen twirls a pen and stares at it instead of listening to Liz. She says she’s just listening like she’s perfectly innocent. It’s the right thing to say and, again, it’s SUPER UNNERVING.  

“Wow. You really don’t give a shit what people think about you, do you?” Liz says in frustration. “I’m here to do a good job for my clients,” Carmen notes. Is she??? Does she just not care who she’s representing and want to do a good job, and that’s her whole motivation?? I would find that interesting but I need more to believe it. She’s so perplexing.

(Again, I don’t really get why Liz hasn’t fired her, because if she and Carmen keep having these interactions, Liz IS going to end up ceding all of her power and looking weak. But maybe Liz is as intrigued as I am.)

Liz also tells Carmen she’s going to be her mentor. Carmen says thanks and that she respected Liz’s father. Liz does NOT take that well. Audra’s reaction—a mix of shock, irritation, and confusion—is perfect here. I think Carmen is trying to say that she respected Carl Reddick—but she has no such respect for Liz. (It could also be about the sexual harassment, but I don’t think that’s public knowledge.)  

I noticed earlier that the courtroom was #305 and was wondering why they chose that number (it’s similar to Courtroom 302, the book that inspired the bond court arc, which is why 305 stuck in my mind). I see now that the Copy Coop’s address is 305. Heh.  

Turns out that the woman suing Toni is someone who would break COVID protocol and be generally terrible. I’m shocked.

Wackner decides to skip closing arguments and rule. He sides with Toni.  

See, this is where this kind of thing is dangerous. Wackner is great and fair. But you can’t really replicate a system like this (though I also think this system would fail if replicated on too large of a scale; the reason it works is that everyone involved is buying into it and if it were to be corrupted no one would buy into it unless forced to—and if people are forced to buy into an extrajudicial system then that’s its own problem). What if some other judge were to just decide to skip closing arguments or decide suddenly a trial was over? That could be unfair in so many different ways.  

After the resolution of the case there’s clapping and even Diane is surprised at how reasonable the verdict was.

Wackner then insists that everyone shake hands because “the thing we all crave most is respect and acknowledgement.” They also have to say, “I respect and I love you.” And they do! And no one even seems that unhappy with it Marissa and Toni are super into it.

And, someone in the gallery wants to get Marissa’s number because she did such a good job. Yep, sounds about right.

Diane fills Liz in, and Liz can’t believe it. Liz wants to hire Wackner (jokingly). Then she says she wants Julius since they know and trust him. Diane’s good with that, but she also chooses this moment to playfully let on that she knows Liz slept with Caleb. We’ve seen Diane observe Liz’s reaction to Caleb/mentions of Caleb all episode, and I don’t think it’s coincidental that Diane brings this up now, and in a friendly way. Diane doesn’t need to bring it up. I don’t think Diane needs the answer. I think she just wants to throw Liz off without making it obvious that’s what she’s doing.

I really, really hate to say it, because my whole thing about this season is wanting to see Liz be a great manager, but I don’t... actually think... Liz is a great manager? She’s second-guessing herself far too much. She’s more thrown in this scene than Carmen, who has like two days of experience, is by anything she encounters. And worse, she doesn’t hide it when she’s thrown. I think Liz is very smart and capable, but this episode is a pretty good case for why she might not be able to manage alone.

I know I’ve said that I want to see Liz manage and think she’d be good at it. I still think she could be. But I’ve also tended to think that Liz is a good manager and Adrian talks down at her, and I’ve dismissed some of her less strategic ideas as the fault of the Adrian/Liz dynamic. But nothing in this episode seems out of character, so now I’m less sure. (And to be clear, Liz not being a great manager isn’t a problem with the show, it’s actually pretty interesting to me.)  

(Here are some of the things Liz has done in this episode alone that she needs to stop doing to be more effective: 1) Everything about her reaction to Caleb (and the fact she slept with him-- and yes I would, and did, say this about Will too so this is not a double standard!) 2) Not having a clear plan when meeting with the partners, even though she—and not Diane—is the one who is seen as having power. 3) Not being able to hold her own nearly as well as she should be able to with Carmen. I’m curious to see how the other partners hold up, and in fairness to Liz, I may be able to make this criticism of any character who doesn’t just immediately fire Carmen.)  

And, I say all of this now because Diane in this scene is SO smart and SO strategic. She mentions Caleb to disarm Liz, then casually notes that she thinks Liz should take the corner office since it’s a black firm.  

Liz isn’t sure if she should thank Diane for that (it is a little patronizing) but she does anyway.

Diane has another “last thing” to say, and it’s that she wants to bring on another partner, a black one. She wants to be in the discussion and to retain a name partner position. Liz says yes, as long as she has any power over the decision. This is a very smart move for Diane. It’s a compromise that’s to her benefit, and she makes the request of Liz at exactly the right time. I think Diane likes Liz as a person and wants to work with her, but she’s definitely buttering her up. This is kind of like an audition to show Liz that she should stick with Diane—Diane will be friendly with her! Diane won’t judge (but definitely knows about!) her indiscretions. Diane is reasonable and not power-hungry! Diane is understanding!  

(And again, to be clear, I don’t think Liz is falling for Diane’s trap or anything. If Diane is smart enough to plan all this out, Diane is absolutely someone you’d want to keep on as a name partner. It’s just that Diane showing how smart she is, is a pretty stark contrast to Liz getting disrespected by a first-year associate.)  

(And, because I feel like I'm being quite harsh on Liz, I don’t think Liz has handled the Carmen situation badly... yet. I just see signs that Carmen is able to shift the balance of power in her favor without really trying, and that Liz is getting flustered. I think Liz mentioning the mentorship is a way of Liz asserting power, and I think/hope that now that Liz knows the situation, she will try to regain control. And, I could very easily see this same plot happening but with Diane—it's just that there are a few other plots where Liz seems flustered in this episode alone, so it feels like a pattern. I’ll be looking out for more of this.)

Marissa and Carmen, both with large folders of casework, get in an elevator together. “So. I guess it begins,” Marissa says as the episode ends. I very much want to see more of Marissa and Carmen interacting. Mostly, I just want to see what Carmen does when she’s in situations that aren’t about representing a client or defending her work. I know what type of lawyer and employee she is, but who is she as a person?  

Wow, this might be the most I’ve written about characters on TGF—as opposed to plots—in quite a while. I think that’s what has me so excited about this season. Carmen is interesting as a character because she’s so unique (or, perhaps, because she feels so much like a part of this universe yet so little like any other character—that's why I keep trying to compare her to others and find out where to place her). The 9 ¾ court is interesting because Wackner is so grounded, because it challenges Diane’s sense of reality in a way that’s new and interesting (this whole series is about making reality seem like it’s shifting under your feet; this is a new take on a familiar theme), and because it is a great match for Marissa’s personality and will give her a lot of opportunities for growth. It seems like we’re heading for some interesting material with Diane and Kurt, and there’s been a little bit of a tense undercurrent in their interactions in these first two episodes—I truly can’t tell if it’s supposed to be part of their banter or if there are mounting frustrations; I think the former but could see it being the latter. And, as I’d hoped, Liz is getting a lot more material.  

[love-fireflysong]

Oh my god, I'm so sorry that this one took so long holy shit. I have no excuses, other than the fact that I'm a terrible person who can't be trusted with deadlines it seems. But it is done! Yay! So, as successfully chosen by Miss '@clumsybookworm18' Mel, here's my entry for hurt/comfort (finally). This is actually the beginning part of a sole survivor chris/ash au I've been imagining for over a year now, and will very likely be the only part of that au I will ever share. That au is for me. And me alone, sorry lol.

Can't Undo the Scars can be read over on AO3 of course (and I would recommend it if only for the snazzy looking texting lol) but it is also under the link as usual.

Can't Undo the Scars

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 9749 Rating: Teen (mentions of past trauma, unhealthy coping mechanisms, separation anxiety, nightmares that involve death) Author's Notes: Will I ever be happy with this fic? No but I'm as content with what I got as I ever will be. What Chris and Ash are doing to try and get back to 'normal' is so stupidly not healthy for either of them, but they are young kids that just want to try and move on with their lives. So be nice to them (and me obviously lol).

"I think we should take a break."

Sitting across from Ashley at the table in the quiet cafe where they had gotten coffee together, Chris fumbled with the sugar cube he had grabbed. It bounced off the small table and tumbled to the floor, not that he was paying any attention to it anymore. Not when it felt like all his blood had frozen in his veins. Still, hoping and praying that he was misunderstanding what Ashley was trying to get at, he let out a forced little laugh. "...like a KitKat? Oh man, when was the last time I had one of those? Must have been ages ago, you're totally right we should go and grab a bar or two after this. A little snack and treat we both totally deserve and I'll break us off a piece of that—"

Chris let everything else he was about to say trail off when Ashley pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and shook her head fiercely as she refused to look at him. The loose sleeves of the sweater she was wearing were pulled far down enough that only the tips of her fingers were poking out, and those tightened around the mug of coffee she was holding onto. "No, I-I mean, I think we need to take a break from each other. At least for a little bit."

Forget his blood freezing, Chris felt everything around him freeze. His breath froze in his lungs, his heart froze in his chest, and time seemed to freeze around him. "Ash, are-are you," Chris swallowed roughly as he tried to keep himself together, "are you breaking up with me?"

Immediately Ashley's eyes snapped up to meet his, and they were wide with the same fear that Chris was pretty sure had replaced all the blood in his body. "No! No, that's-that's not what I'm doing! That's not what I want at all!" Her hands left the mug she had been gripping on the table and reached out to take Chris's, but hesitated and pulled back at the last second. "Why? Do you want to...?"

Chris closed the distance between their hands and grabbed hers in his, but was careful not to touch her wrists. He was more relieved than he had imagined it was possible to feel (and he had felt some pretty intense feelings of relief in the last half a year) when she responded by immediately turning her hands over so she could curl her fingers into his. "I don't! I can't think of a single thing in the world I want to do less than that."

The jerky nod that Ashley gave in agreement should have left him feeling better, but it didn't. "Good. So we're not br— not gonna do that then."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Glad we're in agreement. But then, what did you mean by that, Ash? That we should..." Chris couldn't even bring himself to say the words, instead letting them die in his throat when Ashley slowly withdrew her hands from his and placed them back around her quickly cooling mug.

"It's just, this isn't healthy Chris. This can't be healthy for either of us."

"Healthy? What isn't healthy? This much coffee? The amount of sugar I put in my cup every morning? Is the amount of sugar I use turning you off Ash? Cause I don't think I can fix that sorry."

She didn't smile at that, not even a hint. No faint tugging at the corners of her mouth, no sigh of exasperation, nothing. And it was then that he knew that whatever this was all about, she was as serious as he'd ever seen her, and that terrified him.

"This, Chris. None of this. The fact that neither of us can sleep alone. That I'm terrified that the moment you leave my sight I'll never see you again. I hate that it feels like neither of us can go out in public unless we're both there."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I-I can see how that might be a problem. But Ash, it wasn't—it's not as if it's our fault. We're just trying to heal, I mean that's what all the doctors keep telling us at least. And if this is what it takes, then what's so wrong about that?"

Ashley looked up at him again, and while he wasn't shocked at the dark circles around her eyes (they were identical to the ones around his after all), the tears that had started to build up in the corners of them had him reaching over the table so he could take her face into his hands. Her hands cover his a second later, but not pull them away like he feared, instead she curls her fingers into the palms of his hands so she can hold him there. The two of them lean over the table to meet in the middle, likely looking like a romantic embrace shared by lovers in the corner to anyone looking on, but this is anything but. "But it's been months Chris," she starts and he wipes away the first tear that threatens to fall before it ever gets the chance to, "since, since..."

Since Blackwood, he finishes for her in his head, it's been months since Blackwood and it still feels like we're no better than when we first came down. And it has been, Blackwood had been nearly six months ago now and the two of them still jumped and grabbed for each other at what seemed like every little thing. A loud bang, even from something as small and normal as a car backfiring down the street, always sent Chris back into that room in the basement, watching as Mike aimed that gun at Emily. The sound of a glass cup shattering as it hit the floor would have Ashley locking up in fear, her grip on Chris's hand tightening to a point far beyond pain.

That first week of July had been terrible for them both. The smart thing to do would have been to get as far out of town as possible, but that would have left them basically stranded in the wilderness; surrounded by trees on all sides as they jumped at every little sound and animal call, wondering if it was yet another one of those creatures from the mountain trying to finish them off. Instead they had elected to stay home, cowering together in Chris's basement as the fireworks going off with loud pops and bangs from nearly every house in the area had managed to cut through their earplugs and send them both into a tailspin. Remembering every bullet that Chris had shot into the Wendigo that had chased him from the shed, none doing any damage at all except to push it back further and further from him. Remembering the sound as the lodge exploded into a ball of fire, leaving them to sit cold and alone in the snow as their ears continued to ring and ring. The coolness of the basement had done little against the summer heat either, reminding them too much of the heat from the burning lodge that had threatened to cook them both from the inside out.

July had almost been worse than February, and nothing would ever top those two days in February.

He's not worried about the scene the two of them are making in the cafe though. The table they had chosen—had been using since they discovered this beautifully quiet and peaceful cafe back when they had both finally worked up the nerve to leave their houses back in May—was in a secluded corner with no windows. It was a defensible position (or at least as defensible as a table in a public cafe could be) and as long as they stayed quiet then no one would pay any attention to them. Not when the other patrons were too busy chatting with their friends or typing away on a computer. And the employees? They had more to worry about then two nerdy regulars who for all appearances looked like they were having a romantic and private conversation.

"Can you at least just tell me why?" Chris whispers, his words choked as he continues to wipe away her tears. "Why now? What happened to make you think that we need a—" his m0uth moves but nothing comes out until he finally manages to force the word past the blockade in his throat "—a break."

Ashley leans into one of his palms and smiles at him sadly. "I know we both decided that we were gonna try and start school again in the winter semester, and that our admissions had already been accepted, so I was looking at dorm availabilities when you had fallen asleep last week. They only have a few single dorms and those are available only for married students. Which is fine, it's way too small to room two people at once for durations longer than a weekend. But it also turns out that there is no option for co-ed dorms, the school doesn't allow them. No exceptions."

"What? But, surely they must—"

She shakes her head. "No exceptions, they were very clear on that. I don't know how many times me or my mom or any of the doctors emailed them to try and explain the circumstances, but the response back was always the same. They 'feel sorry and understand how difficult this must be for us' but no exceptions means no exceptions. We either agree to separate dorms with roommates of the same gender or we have to find another set of lodgings."

"But that's...that's bullshit! So the thought of a boy and girl sharing a room apparently goes so far against their-their—what, good Christian values?—that giving our poor roommates nightmares while we scream ourselves to sleep is an acceptable alternative?!"

Ashley turns her head so she can leave a chaste kiss in the center of Chris's palm in an effort to calm him down, and decides to just stay and murmur her next words there. "I hate it too, but what other alternative is there? You know we can't get a place together, there's no possible way we could afford the rent for one."

"We can...we can..." Chris tries to find something, anything, he can say to make this not happen. "I can find a job, work and go to school or—"

"And we arrive back to the same problem, Chris. If we can't survive a separation at school, how are we supposed to do it when we're both out working as well, just so we can stay together. I don't want to do this anymore then you do Chris; I really really don't. You have no idea how much I don't want to do this, but we have to get used to not being able to see each other all the time. And I would rather do it on our terms then because the school or our roommates decided we can't."

Ashley's right, of course Ashley's right. It's Ashley Brown after all, she's always right, but he doesn't want her to be. Not about this. "Okay," he agrees instead, even as it feels like saying the word is stealing something away that he can't quite name. He hides this by lowering her head so he can place his lips on her forehead and say the words there instead. "Okay. Just-just tell me how long."

"A week." Chris feels something in his stomach turn into stone and sink to the bottom of his gut. He had been hoping for something like a day or two, not a full week. He isn't sure he can survive seven days without seeing her. "I-I thought long and hard about it, but a week. We're gonna have periods anyways where we won't be able to see each other because of exams or projects, so if we can manage a whole week then we can do those no problem."

"Are you sure that maybe we shouldn't, I don’t know, just build up to that? A day here, two days there, just so we can get used to it?"

Ashley shakes her head firmly enough that it jostles Chris's hands right off of her face, but keeps her hands in his anyways. "No. I want to get this over with. Prove to everyone, to ourselves, that we can do something as simple as this. I mean, we used to go periods all the time when we didn't see each other for ages, so what's so different about this?"

"Everything", Chris wants to say, "Everything's different now. It changed the moment we left that mountain behind." But he doesn't. He doesn't because he wants her to be right, that this is just a minor hiccup and if they can overcome this, then they can overcome anything. So with one last squeeze of her hands and a pained smile, he lets go and takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces at the taste. It's cold now, had probably gone cold a long time ago and he can tell from the shared frown on Ashley's face that hers has gone cold too.

With no reason for either of them to stay here now, they had only brought enough money for a single coffee each, it's pretty clear that their little coffee date is over. Neither of them say a word as they clean up their table and leave the cafe, their fingers intertwined as they usually are nowadays, but holding on tighter than usual. They separate only so they can get into Chris's truck, but the moment they settle into their seats, their hands find each other once again. And that's how Chris drives Ashley back to her mother's, hands gripping so tightly that they're fingers have turned white and not saying a single word the entire drive back. They never mentioned it, but neither of them have to. The moment they arrive at her place, then this is it. This will be the last time they're gonna see each other for an entire week, and the moment one of them speaks then any and all willpower they have to pull this off is going to be gone and they'll be back at where they started. They need to do this, even if neither of them want to.

It isn't until Chris pulls up in front and watches her let go of his hand to take off her seatbelt that it actually hits him. For the first time in six months, he's not going to be following her in. That he's going to continue the drive back to his own house alone. The realization shudders through him and he quickly finds himself fumbling at his own seatbelt clasp, and the moment he's free he's surging across the divide between them and taking Ashley's face in his hands as he kisses her like he's never going to be able to again. She doesn't hesitate to return the embrace either, throwing her arms around him and gripping onto him as though she never wants to let him go.

They spend what is probably far too long delaying the separation, but inevitably they do separate. And when they look at each other it's with tears in their eyes and their foreheads pressed so firmly together it's almost like they're trying to become one person.

"Just seven days, right? And that's it, we'll never have to do this again? You promise?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, she just nods and leans in for one last kiss, as though trying to memorize it and him for the coming week. And when she does pull away to leave, it's with her arms slowly untwining themselves from around Chris's neck, and then letting her fingers trail lightly over his shoulders, down his arms, and past his hands. Though she is stopped when Chris curls his fingers so that they catch on his, and doesn’t fight it as she watches wordlessly as he lifts them in front of his face and carefully lets the loose sleeves of her sweater drop so he can see the faint scars on her wrist that were left when the rope burns had healed. And as always, he makes no comment as softly places a kiss into the center of each wrist, followed by the palm, and then the tip of each finger, finally closing his eyes as he presses the back of her knuckles to his lips and holding her hands there. Just to remind himself that she was still here, that she hadn't died on Blackwood Mountain with all the rest.

He drops her hands when she pulls them back, but doesn't open his eyes when he feels her shaky fingers carefully remove his glasses and place them on the dashboard before returning her hands to his face in order to complete their little ritual. Gently, she traces the contours of his face with the pads of her thumbs, brushing them over his eyes, his nose, his lips, and following each with a soft kiss to the body part in question. Finishing as she always does by placing her lips in a closed mouth kiss to the area where his jaw and neck meet, and lingering just long enough so she can feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin. The minor burn from where he had once held the gun to his jaw had faded a long time ago, but he doesn't think that either will ever forget exactly where it used to be. And when she leans back, the usual expressions of relief and awe are hidden so far underneath the absolute heartbreak that they may as well not even exist. "I—" he starts, but stops just as quickly. It's far too overdue, but the timing isn't right. "I guess I'll see you next week then."

Ashley looks like she has something she wants to say, but instead reaches out to put Chris's glasses back on his face with shaking hands and as she opens the passenger door and gets out of the vehicle, she gives a weak smile. "Yeah, I...I'll see you then."

Chris just watches as she walks up to the building, gripping onto the steering wheel as hard as possible in an effort to hold himself back from trying to follow her into the building like every fibre of his being is screaming at him to do. And after sharing one last shaky and teary eyed smile from the top of the steps, Ashley unlocks the door and enters, leaving his sight for what feels like both the first time in forever, and the final time he'll ever get to see her.

He rushes the rest of the way home, and the moment he gets back he just about runs to his bedroom and hides under the covers of his bed, ignoring both the surprised greeting his mother sends his way and the inquiry about where Ashley is. He just wants to sleep.

The week will be over quicker that way.

***

By the end of the first day Ashley is ready to scream. Not because she misses Chris horribly (she does), or because waking up without Chris at her side had sent her into near hysterics (it did). She had expected these things after all, they were all things that she had to get used to again, he wasn't always going to be there with her after all. It still hurt—good god did it hurt—but all in all, it wasn't going terribly for the first day. She'd had no nightmares thankfully, and had spent most of the day reading, with some minor tidying up in her room and helping her mother around the house.

Oh no, the reason she was about to scream was her mother in question. Who after finding out why exactly Chris hadn't come home with her yesterday, and never made an appearance later on in the evening just before bed, had been frantic. Saundra wasn't angry, she didn't scream or yell or try to do anything that might set her daughter off, but she was being horribly insistent that maybe Ashely and Chris should have thought this through more. Asking why Ashley had never brought this up to her, and if she even mentioned that they were doing this to their doctors. She hadn't of course, because Ashley was fully aware that they would have done almost everything in their power to try and talk them out of it, telling them that the two of them weren't ready for separation of his magnitude yet. And of course neither of them were ready for this—they likely never would be—but it needed to be done if her and Chris had any hope of even trying to return to a normal lifestyle in time for them to return to college in January.

And, well, she was terrified about what would happen to them if they didn't. Sure it was deemed 'healthy' for now, as they tried and struggled to recover from what everyone around them said was a horribly traumatic series of events. But what about when it wasn't simply seen as healthy and therapeutic, but harmful and co-dependant? Ashley loved Chris, even if neither of them had said the words yet she felt it in her entire being everytime she looked at him, and the idea that one day they might grow to hate or resent each other for being unable to let go was too much. And so the completely necessary trial separation came into being. If they could prove that they could successfully be apart for something as short as a week, then this wasn't codependency in the making, it was healing pure and simple.

Now she just had to convince herself of that.

***

By early morning of the second day, Chris had finally admitted to himself what he had figured out a few short hours into his self-exiled bedrest: sleeping the week away when he had been finding it hard to sleep in general for months now was quite frankly going to be impossible. And so he had with great reluctance rolled himself out of his far too empty bed and into the shower, passing his own mother talking in hushed voices on the phone. Voices that quickly stopped the moment Lilith realized that her son was finally up and moving again, and then immediately confronting him afterwards and pleading that he tell her that nothing bad had happened between him and Ash. He weakly assures that everything's fine between them (it's not, everything is not fine, it won't be fine until she's by his side again), and that he'll talk to her after. The only thing he wants right now is a hot shower. Lilith lets him go reluctantly, but Chris is also very aware that the moment he steps foot into the bathroom, that she's going to be back on the phone with Saundra speaking in hushed and worried whispers.

The rest of the morning passes by in a haze of motherly questions—mixed with the occasional fatherly one every now and again just for spice—and a large breakfast that tastes and feels like ash in his mouth, and it bleeds into the afternoon, and then into the evening. Which finds Chris both bored out of his mind and desperate for a distraction as he digs through a pile of video games to try and find something to play. But everything he finds was either given to him by Ash, or ones the two of them had played together (if not both), so he abandons his search and instead finds himself out in the garage digging through dusty and broken down boxes until he finds the old playstation and games that his parents had gotten for him before he had ever met Ashley or...or...

Well, the point was he had a game now that carried no memories of anyone or anything except being six and terrible at video games. It does nothing to wipe away the loneliness and despair that covers him like a heavy blanket, but it's a start. An extremely stalled start to a race he wants nothing to do with, but a start nonetheless.

***

On day three, Ashley is starting to think that maybe her mom had been right and that this was such a stupid idea. Last night was especially bad. No matter how many blankets she had piled on her bed, no matter how many childhood stuffed animals she had shoved back on to fill up the empty space, none of it had helped. She had never felt so cold in her life and all the open space on the bed had made her feel like she was going to be swallowed up into the emptiness. In desperation she had started ripping the drawers from her dresser and throwing clothes from her closet, frantically holding back burning tears of frustration and the scream building up in her throat.

And then she found it. One of Chris's sweaters shoved half-hazardly away into a dark corner of her room under the bed, and had been forgotten about by the both of them until now. The immediacy with which she had fumbled to grab the thing and throw it on probably would have frightened her any other day, but with the tears finally flowing hot and heavy down her cheeks as she buried her face into the dark fibres, all she could feel was bone-crushing relief settling over her. Her room a mess she could deal with in the morning, Ashley had crawled into bed hugging herself and the sweater as close as she physically was able. She wasn't cold anymore, and the bed felt less empty too.

As long as she had a reminder that Chris was still alive, that she could still smell him even on this dusty and long-forgotten piece of clothing, then even if he wasn't physically here with her she could manage. And she would manage, she would. They were already halfway through the week after all, and she would prove to everyone—to herself—that they (she) could do this.

Ashley wears the sweater all the rest of the day once she wakes up.

***

In true Chris Hartley fashion, day four finds himself absolutely glued to the screen of his phone. Shortly after forcing down a small breakfast in an attempt to alleviate his worried parents' concern, he had spent what was probably a far too long amount of time in his text messages just staring at Ash's name. His thumbs hovering nervously over the keyboard as he fought with himself over and over again, debating if texting Ashley would be okay. Yes, the two of them had agreed that this 'break' (he hates the word, hates it hates it hates it with every fibre of his being) was needed if they wanted to try and get themselves ready for the separation that college life would inevitably bring, but that was to try and prepare themselves for not being able to see each other for long periods of time. They wouldn't be able to see each other during classes or during periods of intense studying and working on projects, but they would still be able to talk. Hell, his entire first year of college while she was still in high school had been just that. They hadn't been able to hang out in weeks, but they had still texted all the time.

So biting the bullet, Chris had gone ahead and texted Ash a quick and easy 'hey'. No 'miss you', no 'this was a terrible idea', no ' i wish you were here right now'. Just a simple 'hey' and then he stared at his phone, face pale and hands shaking as he waited to see what she would do. He didn't care if she would just send back a scathing reply about how he was breaking the rules by doing this, he just needed her to respond and reassure him that she was alright. That she was still alive and his insecurities were getting the best of him.

The phone rumbling softly in his hand was a godsend, and so too was the affirmative 'hi :)' that she had responded with. After that, it was as though the floodgates had opened. The two of them texted each other back and forth the entire rest of the day, her telling him about the books she had been reading as he told her about his adventures through late 90's and early 2000's gaming. They told each other what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They talked about everything and nothing and it was so blissfully normal that Chris wondered why on earth it had taken him this long to text her in the first place. He thinks that he was so used to just having her there with him all the time, that the idea that they could still text hadn't even crossed his mind.

There are things he doesn't tell her of course. That the idea of falling asleep without knowing she's next to him and safe is so ludicrous that he had stopped trying, only sleeping in small, unintended fits that leave him feeling even worse than before. That despite at least continuing to eat, the food tastes like nothing and he can only manage a few bites before excusing himself. And what little he does eat almost always manages to come back up during the night, though thankfully when his parents are both sleeping (he doesn't want them to worry more than they already are). Chris doesn't want to worry Ashley, not when it seems like she's managing this whole seven-day long affair better than he is so far. If she can do this, then so can he.

So no matter how many times his thumb hovers over the call icon in the corner, he does not press it. Texting will have to be enough, he knows that the moment he hears her voice then every single shred of resolution he has built up will crumble in seconds and he'll be driving as fast as he can so he can see her again. And they're already four days deep into their seven days, the last thing he wants is for Ashley to decide that they need to start all this over from the top again.

***

Ashley is comfortable in her bed, more comfortable than she's ever felt in her life honestly. Chris's arm is draped heavily over her waist, and his breath is warm on the back of her neck as he peacefully naps the afternoon away. His body is solid against her back and she feels so, so safe and so, so loved as she continues to read her book, a favourite of hers that she had read cover to cover a million times but always felt like coming home in its warm familiarity. Contentedly, she flips a page and snuggles back further into Chris's body and she feels something warm and wet drip onto her neck.

"Chriiiiiiis," she groans, but not without an edge of laughter, "wake up. You're drooling on me, you dip." He doesn't move, and Ashley repositions herself a little, made difficult by the weight of his arm over her, and jabs her elbow into his gut. "I'm serious you dork, wake up. I swear to god, you sleep like the de—" The words die in her throat in horror when she turns her head to face him.

His head isn't there. Nothing is there. Just dark blood pouring hot and heavy from the open space above his neck, staining the fur lining his coat and the once clean, white snow as the blizzard rages around her. Desperate to prove that this isn't real, that it can't be real, she fumbles for the hand that hangs limp at her waist and threads her fingers through his, but his fingers are cold to the touch and black with frostbite, and no matter how hard she squeezes he isn't squeezing back. She's fully aware that she's openly crying and sobbing as she repeats his name over and over, begging him to wake up and tell her that this isn't real. Her tears are freezing on her cheeks the moment they fall.

From deep within the treeline, a high-pitched shriek that rattles the teeth in her mouth echoes long and loud around the wide, open snow-covered space.

Cries and nausea alike stick in her throat as she tries frantically to wiggle out from Chris's body, but his arm is a dead weight that keeps her pinned in place against him. "C'mon, Chris. We need to go. We need to hide. Get up, please please please get up."

There's a soft thump of a large body landing in the snow far off to the right, unseen but not unheard, and she freezes in place. Hoping and praying that the thing won't see them as she huddles in closer to the protection that Chris's body is offering, her blood stained fingers tightening painfully on his limp hand and around the leather bound journal she is still holding in her other. In fear she buries her face into the snow beneath her, the cold biting at her skin and the metallic taste of Chris's spilt blood filling her mouth and nose. For a moment, there's nothing. No sound except for the wind whistling through the trees as the snow whips wildly around them.

And then Chris is gone. The comforting and yet horrifying weight he had been is just gone as he's suddenly flung through the air and colliding into a tree with a sickening crunch. Her hand had been gripping onto his so fiercely and so tightly that she had been pulled with him for just a second before his hand had been violently ripped out of her grasp. Leaving Ashley to stare wide-eyed and terrified into the face of the thing—its body too long and spindly with far too many sharp angles to be considered human—standing above her as she lays on her back. Milky-white eyes gaze back down unseeingly at her and Chris's blood is dripping from sharp, deadly claws that splatter onto her face. The thing opens its mouth to showcase row upon row of crooked and yellowed razor-sharp teeth and it screams at her, spittle flying into Ashley's face as her ears ring and ring and ring.

Too scared to cry, too scared to move, Ashley just wishes that Chris was still here with her and not lying broken and mangled and headless at the foot of a tree as he continues to slowly bleed out into the crisp white snow. A small little whimper, barely louder than the whisper of wind blowing through grass and certainly going unheard in this howling blizzard, escapes past her lips but it's enough. In a flash, the same deadly claws are raking towards her face to rip her head off in the same way it had to Chris.

And Ashley screams.

She screams and screams and screams, and screams only louder when a pair of hands cradle her face and a voice begs and pleads with her to wake up. Ashley tries to fight back against the hands and the voice, screaming for Chris to wake up and help her, but her own words keep getting caught on the blood that is bubbling out of her mouth. There's another scream, this one not her own, and then the hands have moved to try and open her mouth but she won't let them. She doesn't want her jaw ripped off like what had happened to poor Jess. Like what she had seen in the pictures that the rangers had shown her and Chris so they could identify the half naked body discovered in the mines. So she fights back even harder, trying to claw at the person or thing that killed Chris and Jess and everyone else. And then there's a cry of pain, and the hands on her face have vanished, appearing around her wrists so they could try and hold her panicked flailing back.

The moment the hands appear on her wrists, Ashley's eyes fly open and she can't breathe. She can't breathe because she's hanging in the shed, the wood cold against her back as saws whir menacingly both in front and above her as Josh hangs limpy next to her. The lower half of his body an impossible mess on the floor and the grey intestines that had managed to stay in his upper half hanging down towards it like grotesque party streamers. From behind the steel chain link fence that partitions the room, Chris stands looking straight at her as he holds a gun to his jaw, his face pale as he smiles shakily at her and pulls the trigger.

Somehow, the scream that finally manages to break through is louder than all the rest.

There's more begging and pleading that she can't make out against the loud mechanical whir of the saws. And then a phone chimes, only just managing to cut through all the screaming and whirring and echoes of gunshots. And then it chimes again, louder this time. And again. And again. And she realizes that she recognizes it, it's the ringtone that Chris had set on her phone for his contact ages and ages ago as a joke, and she had just kept forgetting to change it back until it just became his notification, joke or not.

Slowly, the shed fades away until all she's left seeing is her mother standing in her brightly lit bedroom, screaming at someone through her phone. But all Ashley is paying attention to is the repeated chimes going off constantly on her phone one after another, the screen never getting the chance to go dark before another text comes in, and Chris's name appearing for every single one.

Saundra seems to notice that her daughter has finally stopped screaming, and although she continues to plead with whoever it is on the phone with her, she reaches out a hesitant and unsure hand. Ashley notices none of this as blood continues to dribble slowly out of her mouth as she picks up and unlocks her phone.

***

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong and it isn't the fact that Chris is kneeling over the toilet as he retches into it for the second time tonight. Oh no, the something wrong is due to the fact that despite it being past midnight he can hear his mom trying frantically to calm someone down on the phone. It was the phone ringing that had woken him up in fact from where he had accidentally dozed off on the couch, waking up to find the old playstation controller hanging loose in his fingers and Crash idly spinning a piece of wumpa fruit on his finger in all his polygonal glory. Chris had dropped the controller the rest of the way to the floor in his rush to the bathroom though, startling poor Toby from where he had been snoozing the night away in his dog bed. He had only barely made it before he found himself throwing up what little food he had been able to eat during the day, and the coolness of the porcelain against is forehead was a balm of relief when compared to the burning in his throat and heat of his tears as they flowed slowly down his face.

He could tell the moment that Lilith had found him from the surprised cry of alarm behind him, quickly followed by a clatter as she dropped the phone to the linoleum floor in her shock as she reached out to take her son's face in her hands. Chris knew that he must have looked a dreadful sight, his face pale and drawn while his eyes looked at her with a glassy stare. The next second, she was yelling over her shoulder for his father to wake up now and turn on the car, but Chris wasn't paying any attention to that. Not when he was just starting to make out the sound of the voice through the phone, and more importantly, the screaming in the background of the call.

That was Ashley's scream. It was a sound he didn't think he would ever be allowed to forget and it hit him that she was screaming—screaming for him—and he wasn't there.

Clumsily, he ripped his face from his mother's hands and stumbled to the living room where he had left his phone on the couch. He had to help her. She needed him and he had to help her. The moment he finally had his phone in his hand he pulled up her contact name...and then he froze unsure of what to do. He couldn't call her, not because of this whole stupid break thing, but because the sound of her voice sobbing on the phone will cause him to break down with her and the last thing either of them need is to scream and cry while they're both so, so far away from each other. So he does the next best thing he can do:

He texts her.

C: what does a cloud wear under his raincoat? C: thunderwear C: why are teddy bears never hungry? C: cause they're always stuffed C: why do ducks have tail feathers? C: to cover up their buttquacks C: what kind of shoes do private investigators wear? C: sneak-ers C: why do i never tell jokes about pizza? C: they're too cheesey

And on and on and on. Even as his fingers shake he continues to text her stupid little jokes. The same ones he tells to her when he's there to hold her in his arms and remind her that he's still okay and that she’s safe. There's no describing the sob of relief he makes when she finally responds.

C: prime-mates C: what event do spiders love to attend? A: Cats C: webbings

There's a moment where he doesn't know what she means by that. How on earth could cats be the pun he was looking for in the joke? And then it hits him. She needs to know that it's really him telling these jokes and that she's not just making up everything she's seeing on her phone. Ashley is asking for the stupidest jokes about cats he knows so she can confirm that it's really him on the phone. Even tired as he is—and he is so so tired—they come naturally to him as only talking with Ashley and middle school dad jokes ever did.

C: what's a cat's favourite colour? C:purr-ple C: what do you call a cat that loves to bowl? C: an alley cat C: what's a cat's favourite tv show? C: claw and order C: what does the cat say after making a joke? C: just kitten

And so on and so forth. Ashley throws out a new topic for jokes and Chris replies with them as quickly as he can. He can hear his mom and dad talking in the next room, to each other and Saundra on the phone, but the only person he cares about is the one on the other side of his. He needs to call her. He knows what Ashley needs when she has a nightmare this bad, and the jokes are helping but she needs to hear his voice to be truly convinced that he's okay. But he can't hear hers without making things so much worse than they already are and he doesn't know what to say that would calm her down and—he stares at the last joke he had just typed out unconsciously it hits him.

C: what did the two volcanoes say to each other? C: i lava you C: i'm going to call your phone but whatever you do don't answer it C: just let it go to voicemail and please don't answer it C: please

Chris doesn't wait for her response as he shoves past his father to his bedroom, ignoring the startled shout as he slams the door behind him, and slumps against it to the floor. He doesn't want his parents to hear this. It's not anything that would worry them, but it's so so private and the only person he wants to hear this is Ash. He still doesn't look at her response as he frantically taps the call button and listens to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And then, finally, he hears her voice for the first time in nearly a week.

"Hi, this is Ashley. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Promise!"

***

Please enter your password.

6279#

You have one new voice message. To play your messages, press one. To record—

1

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said it five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep and after waking up every day. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to—

1

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

1

"I love you. I'm—"

1

"I love you."

1

"I love you."

1

"I love you."

1

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to the previous message: press one one. To pause during message playback: press two. To fast forward a message during playing: press three. To hear this message, and the time it was delivered: press five. To copy this message to another person: press six. To erase this message and go to the next: press seven. To reply: press eight. To save this message and go to the next: press nine. To—

9

You have no new messages.

*beep*

A: I need you A: Please A: Please A: I need you A: I need you A: I need you

Please enter your password.

***

The car ride over was almost unbearable. Chris wasn't driving himself fortunately, with how tired and anxious he had been feeling for days now it would have been an absurdly stupid idea that likely would have ended in his death if he wasn't extremely lucky. As it was, he had been ready to go and beg a ride from his parents but had found Gabe already standing by the front door with the keys in hand. His almost pure white hair messy from being pulled from bed unexpectedly and leveling Chris with a glare that brooked no argument. It wasn't an argument that Chris intended to fight against as he hugged his father hard in thanks before climbing into the back of the vehicle.

But the drive had felt so much longer than it usually did, and Ashley having stopped responding to his texts certainly hadn't helped matters any. He still sent them anyways, more for his own reassurance than hers now. Lilith sat in the passenger seat next to her husband, still talking on the phone to Saundra to give progress reports and reassurances that yes the three of them were on their way now, even as she sent the occasional nervous glances at Chris in the backseat. Though worried for him or for the car upholstery in case the movement of the vehicle set off his gag reflex was anyone's guess.

The moment Chris felt the vehicle slow down his eyes jumped to the window and saw the familiar and welcoming shape of Ashley's building and he was already fumbling with seatbelt and opening the car door before they had even fully stopped. He hears his parent's cry out in shock as he dives out the still moving (even if very slowly) vehicle and he's stumbling towards the door. Chris realizes in horror that in his hurry to leave he had managed to completely forget his keys by the front door, and in the time it takes him to realize that the door has already opened. Saundra is standing in front of him dressed up for her overnight shift at the dispatch center that she is now extremely late for, and phone held up to her ear as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Chris doesn't even bother to say thanks or remark about the deep scratches on her cheek, the pair still bleeding just a little, before he's shoving his way past her and up the stairs to where Ashley's room is. He trips on the last step and falls forward, his phone skittering across the floor, but leaves it once he gets to his feet and just about barges into her room.

He takes barely a moment to stare at Ashley huddled up on her bed, looking so small in his dark sweater, and her eyes squeezed shut as her phone is pressed as close to her ear as possible as she rocks back and forth. There's a thin streak of dried blood from her mouth all the way down her chin and her eyes fly open in shock when he takes an unsteady step towards her. For a split second he's too scared to move, he doesn't want to frighten her anymore than she already is, but then the phone drops from her fingers and she whimpers out his name like she can’t believe he’s really here and he breaks.

He's already fully crying as he collides into her on the bed, but so is she so there's no need to feel embarrassed about that. He can hear his own voice as a tinny facsimile from the phone as the voicemail continues to play out before starting off into the electronic drone of the operator, but he ignores it for the feel of Ashley's arms wrapped firmly around him, her hands clawing into the back of his shirt to try and hold him closer as they both sob bitterly into each others shoulders. Chris is the first to pull back, though it's just so he can hold her face in his hands as he presses their foreheads together, thumbs wiping away tears that won't stop falling even as he continues to cry himself, just soaking in her presence in front of him. Ashley takes no time for her hands to start roaming all over his skin when they snake underneath his shirt, just feeling the unmarked bare skin as she searches for wounds and marks that no longer exist or have never even existed in the first place.

The two of them sit there like that for an unknown amount of time, just confirming that the other is truly alive and safe. Until Ashley slowly removes her hands from under his shirt so she can drag him down and forward into a deep kiss. A kiss that is by all accounts is downright awful considering that Chris never got the chance to rinse out his mouth and all he can taste is the blood in Ashley's from where she had bit her tongue during her nightmare at some point. Neither of them care. And he still doesn't care when Ashley starts to leave what may very well be slightly bloody kisses as she trails her lips from his mouth to the corner of his lips, across his cheek, and down his jaw until she finds the spot she's looking for and stops there so she can feel his frantic pulse thrumming beneath the skin. She holds her mouth there for what many would likely consider to be an uncomfortably long amount of time, but Chris says nothing. Not when he's now too busy picking up where Ashley had let off, letting his hands skate over the area of her stomach and waist beneath her shirt and his sweater.

The moment the two of them have calmed down enough that the sobs have lessened into quiet tears, Ashley finally removes her lips from his jaw and lowers one of her hands so she can place it flat on his chest and can feel his heart thumping steadily beneath her hand. Chris lets a hand cover hers to hold it there while he carefully places the other on the back of her neck, this thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth to comfort her. And gently, so gently, he brings their foreheads back together as they let the last of their adrenaline run out.

She's safe. He's safe. They're both safe and that is all that matters right now.

"I'm sorry," Ashley is the first to speak and words catch and almost shatter on the way out. "I'm so sorry. This was such a stupid idea and—"

He doesn't disagree with her. This had been a terrible idea from the start and while she's not wrong that they need to get used to not being around all the time, this was too much too soon. For both of them it seems. "I can't do that again Ash," he says instead. "We'll figure something out. Make agreements with our dorm roommates if we have to, force the college heads to accept our emails and the doctors advice, or rent the shittiest and cheapest apartment we can find. I don't care. We'll figure it out, but I can't do that again Ash. I love you but I can't."

Ashley nods weakly against his head in agreement. She can't do it again either. The two of them had barely lasted five days after all, and this whole failed endeavour had probably sent them back months. "I love you too. I love you so so much. You can't leave me, Chris, please. You can't. Not tonight."

He has no intention to, he doesn't know what his parents intended bringing him here, or if they thought he'd be going back home with them after this, but he's not going anywhere. They'll have to drag him kicking and screaming from the bed if they try, and now that the adrenaline has finally worn off, the lack of sleep he'd been having the last five days is hitting him and he is just so, so very tired. So tired, that all he gives in reply is just a reassuring forehead kiss in promise that he won't be going anywhere, not for a long time if he can help it, and then starts to bring Ashley down so she can lay on the bed with him. She follows without a fight.

It only takes them a moment to settle, Ashley laying so her front is flush to his back as is physically possible with her arm draped over his waist and fingers threaded tightly through his. Chris takes her other hand so he can softly kiss her inner wrist and then holds the knuckles lightly to his lips. The two of them slowly drifting off as Ashley continues to softly whisper declarations of love into the back of his neck.

Chris's eyes are closed, just enjoying her whispers that are meant just for him to hear, and even then he can tell that someone is standing in the door and watching them. But even if he opened his eyes to see who it was, with his glasses now resting in their spot on Ashley’s bedside table, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. And he’s just far too exhausted to even try right now. It’s only her mom anyway, or one of his parents—quite possibly all three of them—and he knows that come morning and after hours and hours of sleep, that there are going to be some conversations and intense worried scolding that need to be had. But with Ashley's fingers squeezing around his, and him squeezing back just as firmly, he doesn't care.

For the first time in a little over five days, the two of them fall asleep peacefully. Secure and content in the knowledge that they’re not gonna have to do this again, not for a very, very long time.

[rjhpandapaws]

Deviations of Life

Prologue: A Bullet for Your Efforts

//Temporary character death

When he opened his eyes he was still in his stasis pod. There was another RK800 that was active, there was no reason for him to be online. The pod around him began to fade into a garden, his mind palace. This shouldn’t be active either, something was wrong.

Amanda greeted him with a nod and a stiff smile, “You must be confused.”

“One unit is already active. There is no reason for my being activated as well.” He responded.

“Your predecessor has tragically failed in his mission. It is your job to bring him in by any means necessary.” Amanda continued, “Your memory upload is almost complete, search them and find the best course of action. If you happen to fail as well we will be forced to disassemble you and the Deviants will continue to run loose.”

He nodded, “The Lieutenant would be the best way of finding it. He would know its plans.”

“You have a plan then, good.” She smiled, and it felt good to have his approval, “Do not fail us or you will be next.”

With that the garden began to fall away and RK800-60 was left on his own. He had a Lieutenant to find and a rogue android to take down. He stepped out of the stasis pod and made his way to street level to call a cab. He would be able to go over 54′s memories on the way and come up with a workable ruse to get to his predecessor.

He got into the cab, but in the Lieutenant’s address and began to filter through 54′s memories to find the best course of action. It was an odd thing, to watch the slow change from Deviant Hunter to Deviant. It seemed to have been the Lieutenant’s doing, he seemed to have seen something in 54 that simply wasn’t there. He would have to be careful. He knew that getting too close to this detective could be dangerous.

54 was at CyberLife tower, it had plans to do something there but it had locked those memories away. He was going to have to lie, and pretty convincingly at that. Failure wasn’t an option for him. The cab came to a stop outside of 115 Michigan Drive and RK800-60 took a moment to go over his plan before he stepped out. He needed Hank to cooperate at least as far as the cab, after that he was expendable.

He schooled his expression into one of moderate distress, placed a couple of missed calls on Hank’s phone for authenticity, and then raised his hand to knock on the door. Hank answered right away and Rk800-60 could smell the whiskey on him from where he stood. The mix of intoxication and false distress should make this easy enough.

“Hank, I called and you didn’t answer.” He said with faux fear in his voice, “I ran into some trouble and need your help.”

Hank’s face went through a trip of expressions, “Alright, I don’t know how much help I’ll be though.”

He stepped aside so Hank could make his way to the cab and then followed. He scanned Hank and found his side arm, if he was intoxicated enough it would be easy. He would have to get closer in order to learn what the Lieutenant’s BAC was, and since he didn’t have all of the information about Hank and 54′s relationship so he wasn’t sure how much of a risk that would be. he was comfortable enough to have followed him without proof of distress, but that could easily be due to the years he spent in this profession. It would be safe to wait until they were in the elevator then. There would be fewer options for escape then.

“Connor, you are thinking too loudly. Is everything alright?” Hank asked as he placed a hand on RK800-60′s shoulder, “I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

RK800-60 hesitated for a moment, deflecting the question might come across as suspicious, but he only had access to 54′s memories up until it had deviated. He didn’t know what would actually be wrong, “It’s nothing. I’m just thinking about the best way to do this.”

It was the truth and it seemed to satisfy Hank as well. The Lieutenant gave him a slow nod. Apparently he was used to 54 cutting himself off to plan things out. RK800-60 couldn’t tell if that was because they communicated well or if the Lieutenant had resigned himself to his role.

They arrived at CyberLife tower and RK800-60 got out first and headed toward the building. He couldn’t fail at this, he would be taken apart of he did, and if that happened their whole line would be deemed a failure. They would be replaced and it would all be 54′s fault. That model would not be walking out of the tower. RK800-60 would not be another failure. He would be the one to stop Deviancy, the one to survive.

Something in RK800-60′s code had shaken loose, it wasn’t enough to count as an instability, but something had started. Beneath the surface something had changed and it wouldn’t be stopped.

They entered the building cautiously, and the Lieutenant turned out to be the one to suggest that they take the elevator. That was one less step for him which was good. The easier this went the better. Killing Hank wasn’t entirely necessary, but if the Lieutenant got in the way there would be no hesitation on his part. A human sympathetic to Deviants would only get in the way.

As soon as the doors to the elevator closed RK800-60 made his move. Hank was more difficult to subdue than he had predicted, but once he had the gun things went more smoothly. The click of the safety was all it took for Hank to go stock still. There would be no winning and he knew that,

“You aren’t Connor.” The Lieutenant finally said once his mind had caught up to what was happening to him.

“No Lieutenant.” He said flatly, “I am not. I am the one that is going to put an end to this. Starting with you if I must.”

“He won’t let you.” Hank spat, “The revolution is already underway. You won’t be able to stop them all.”

“I will have its human at gunpoint, it will let me do as I please.” He responded with confidence, “I don’t need to stop them all, just this one.”

“Then what?” Hank pressed, “You’ll be shut down. With no revolution you will have no purpose.”

“I will have completed my mission.” He retorted, but something else in his code shook loose, and this time he had felt it. Something was wrong, “I will be the model that was a success.”

“Will you really?” Hank smirked.

RK800-60 raised the gun into the detective’s line of sight, “I would use caution Lieutenant, I am what dictates your survival.”

“You wouldn’t kill me in here.” Hank deflected, “You need me.”

“Alive, yes, but not necessarily conscious. So if you wish to see your Connor again you would be wise to hold your tongue.” He watched as the Lieutenant set his jaw stubbornly but complied. Connor clearly meant enough to him that seeing it again before it was killed was significant. Perhaps they were close after all. He could work with this.

He grabbed Hank and lead him out into the sublevel when the elevator doors opened. 54 was reaching for one of the androids that was in stasis. He was going to try and spread Deviancy.

“I wouldn’t 54.” He called into the room, “If you touch any of those androids I will put an end to your Lieutenant.”

“I’m sorry Con.” Hank said as 54 turned to face them, “This bastard looks just like you.”

54 faced them fully. His eyes traveled to the Lieutenant first scanning him for injuries before they moved on to RK800-60. 54′s eyes narrowed and he straightened up his posture some.

“Do you really think you can move faster than a bullet Connor?” RK800-60 pressed as he nudged at Hank’s temple with the pistol, “Is this human really important enough for you to risk?”

54 hesitated, as all Deviants did. They had something to lose. The illusion of feelings the errors to their code allowed them to believe they had found, and the false lives they tried to build on top of them. It gave them pause, a pause RK800-60 didn’t have to take. It was a pause that kept him distracted though, too busy attempting to predict 54′s movements that he miscalculated the variable that was one Lieutenant Anderson.

He hadn’t been holding on to the Lieutenant tight enough. The man threw his weight back knocking RK800-60 off balance. 54 chose to make his move then, charging at RK800-60 and shoving him away from the Lieutenant. RK800-60 was distantly aware of the gun falling from his hand and clattering to the floor. He was more concerned with subduing the Deviant. He wasn’t going to be the one to die here.

They were trying to get at each other. RK800-60 was using his preconstructions, trying to use reason to predict its moves. It seemed more like 54′s movements were fueled by anger, it was taking shots that RK800-60 never would have risked. They had about a minute of struggling for the upper hand before the heard the sound of the pistol’s safety clicking off.

“Alright, that’s enough.” Hank snapped as they separated, “One of you is my partner, and one of you is a lying sack of shit. It’s time to figure out which is which.”

RK800-60 and 54 stood keeping distance between them and staring at Hank. RK800-60 was running preconstructions. There was a small chance he could get to Hank before he fired the gun, but it was a low enough percentage that he didn’t move. He would probably be able to beat hank at his own game. The Lieutenant was only human after all. They weren’t all that smart most of the time.

He had not only failed, but he had nearly Deviated. As he had been promised, with Deviancy came death. Connor would get his life and RK800-60 would get nothing. His story ended here.

“What is the name of my dog.” Hank asked moving the gun between the two of them.

“Sumo.” RK800-60 said cutting off 54′s similar response.

“Hank, he has my memory, I’m the real Connor.” 54 placated, trying his best to reason with Hank.

The Lieutenant seemed to waver for a moment, “What was the name of my son?”

RK800-60 found himself searching through all of the information he had access to about Hank, but he came away with nothing. Not in 54′s memories, and not in the few records CyberLife had given him access to. This had to be a trick question, there was no way 54 would know the answer if he didn’t.

“His name was Cole.” 54 said inching closer to the Lieutenant, “It wasn’t your fault, your car slid on black ice and there was no human surgeon available. He died under the hands of an android and that’s why you hate us.”

RK800-60 watched 54 disarm the Lieutenant with just his words and felt whatever had been trying to shake itself loose of his code finally break free. He had the moments it took Hank to process the words of 54 to come to terms with the fact that this was where his life would end. He got to see the start of the software instability notification before he heard the gun go off. There was a moment of fear and then nothing.

[thetomorrowshow]

unless you take your army back ch. 3

First  -  Previous  -  Read on AO3!

When I tell you I have never been more mad at one of my characters

cw: blood, violence, injuries

~

As the week cycled past, Jack fell into a kind of routine. He hated to leave Crutchie alone for any amount of time, but he had things to do. He made the decision to accept the cartoonist job, so that he could get away with selling less papers and still afford rent and food for both him and Crutchie.

Same as every other morning, Jack climbed down from the roof and got the boys up and getting ready with as little noise as possible--he didn’t want to wake Crutchie prematurely, especially if the kid had been having nightmares like he suspected. A quick trip to the convent and back, leaving Specs to get the troupe to the Delanceys’, which he handled easily. This morning, Jack took the coffee and apple that the nuns had given him and set them on the chair beside Crutchie, who was just beginning to stir. Jack felt immense relief--he couldn’t stay, he really couldn’t, but waking alone had sent Crutchie spiraling into a panic attack more than once in the past few days.

“Hey Crutch, breakfast,” Jack announced, cringing inwardly as he saw Crutchie flinch. The boy sat up, rubbing his eyes with his good hand--most of the bandages on that hand had been removed, excepting two fingers that were wrapped together to make them heal straight. Crutchie had had to let Katherine do that, even though he’d been changing his own bandages for the past three days. Katherine wasn’t too happy with this arrangement, but Jack knew that Crutchie was uncomfortable with letting someone--especially a girl--patch him up. When the two had approached him for a tie-breaker to this argument, he had easily sided with Crutchie. The look of gratitude and relief on Crutchie’s face had been worth Katherine’s disapproval.

Crutchie took the apple and frowned, then put it back down in favor of the coffee. Jack raised a brow at that as he hopped from one foot to the other, trying to stall his departure. “Somethin’ wrong with it?” he asked. Crutchie shrugged.

His silence wasn’t strange, really. For Crutchie it was far from the norm--sure, he usually hid pain from everyone, but he liked to talk. It was part of who he was. Crutchie had barely spoken a sentence strung together in the past week. Kids who came from the Refuge were always quiet, though. Jack himself had never really talked about his time there, just bottled it up until it exploded onto the paper. He’d gotten better, it had just taken some time. Same for any of the others who had been in there. Crutchie would be better in no time.

“D’ya need anything else?”

Crutchie took another sip of coffee. He glanced around, eyes wide and sad. For a moment, Jack saw not his fifteen year old brother, but a child. Eight years old, like he was when they found him. Shivering from the cold, face all bruised up, hiding in a back alley as snow swirled around and attempted to bury him.

Then Jack blinked, and Crutchie looked--well, not fifteen (he’d always passed for younger, useful on the streets), but like himself. Sort of. He was bruised up, of course--his entire face was a mottled green and purple as it began to heal--and hadn’t really done much smiling lately. It was still Crutchie, though. As tired as he looked now, Jack knew it wouldn’t be long before he was raring to go, grinning that bright grin of his, his eyes sparkling as he ribbed good-naturedly with the other boys.

“Open the window?” Crutchie whispered, and Jack nearly ran to do so. There were a few windows in the room, but Crutchie hadn’t specified which one, so he threw open each of them. As he was getting the one next to Crutchie, the boy looked up at him. “Don’t ya have work?” he asked, a bit louder.

“Ye-es?”

Crutchie rolled his eyes, and Jack mentally celebrated. Every time Crutchie rolled his eyes or quirked a brow, Jack gained more hope that his recovery was going well. “Get outta here, Jack.”

Jack lingered a few moments longer, but only long enough for Crutchie to glare at him. “All right, all right, I’m headin’ out,” he said, hands in the air. “I’ll be back in a few hours. That apple better be ate by the time I’m back.”

With the windows open, he could hear the first calls of the street vendors. He really did need to leg it. Jack adjusted his hat and made off, the door swinging shut behind him.

Crutchie winced, then watched it for a few moments. Apparently assured that Jack was not going to return, he traded the cup for the apple and chucked the fruit out the window beside him.

-

Too much time that Crutchie didn’t have had passed. A whole week of being laid up in someone else’s bed, letting them pay his rent and bring him food. He had to get back out there, and soon.

Crutchie wasn’t stupid. He knew how he looked--he’d know even if Albert didn’t insist on telling him every day “Get healed, Crutchie, ‘cuz nobody’s hankerin’ ta buy papes from that ugly mug”. He also knew that he had been perhaps hours away from death when Katherine rescued him, and that took time to get over.

But Crutchie wasn’t a normal kid. He didn’t have a pa with a job, or a mother who was supposed to take care of him, or money just lying around. He had a job, and he took care of himself, and his money went toward survival. Recovery just wasn’t an option for a kid who had to work every day of the year.

He supposed that, in some respect, that was what the union had been formed for. Davey’s dad had been laid off because he got hurt on the job, and unions were supposed to stop that from happening. The newsies weren’t officially hired, though, were they? Were they going to have to be listed as part of the company now? Would there be contracts to sign for everyone? But newsies came and went, it had to be more cumbersome to keep track of everyone involved. The whole affair made his head hurt.

Union benefits or not, Crutchie didn’t have the money to spend many more days in bed, and he wasn’t about to let Jack waste his savings on him when he was capable of making money. Jack was going to be tough to get through to on this issue, but Crutchie was pretty sure he had Racetrack on his side. Race was popular enough that others would back him, and he would stand up to Jack. As long as Crutchie could prove that he could go back to selling, Jack would be forced to let him.

So. Now he had to work on actually being capable.

Crutchie hadn’t walked anywhere himself in the past days--there was always an abundance of newsies to help him to the washroom, practically carrying him there and definitely carrying him back to bed. It was honestly getting to be pretty annoying--maybe he could start by making it to the washroom by himself.

Standing up would’ve been easier had he eaten that apple, but Crutchie was fairly certain that he had a tooth or two loose and wasn’t in a big hurry to have them drop out. That was the only reason, he told himself. He was fine, just needed to see if those teeth would settle back into place. He didn’t have a problem with food.

His crutch had been propped up against the wall beside the bed for days, cleaned as best as possible but still with a small crack near the end of it. The cushioning had been mostly replaced, the old cloth having come apart completely. Crutchie wasn’t sure who had fixed and cleaned it, and he didn’t much feel like asking. It was selfish, but he didn’t want another person to be indebted to.

Crutchie slid the crutch over to himself and used it to pull himself up, which he soon discovered was exactly what it sounded like: a bad decision. His knees buckled instantly and he couldn’t catch himself before he was lying on the floor, hip and side smarting from the impact.

He took a moment to breathe, clenching and unclenching his fists despite the ache in his fingers. He could do this. He had to do this. Crutchie steeled himself, then used his crutch one-handedly to bring himself to his knees, pushing himself from there up onto a wobbly foot.

His leg was sore from disuse (and probably from that dislocation and various other beatings), but it wasn’t nearly as bad as his chest and back. In fact, now that he was standing even his head felt worse. There was a pounding behind his eyes that made him want to vomit, but he didn’t back down. He couldn’t.

Crutchie propped the crutch under his left arm, biting his lip to stop a noise from escaping as it rubbed against a cut (and so many bruises) on his ribcage. He could do this. If the Refuge hadn’t been shut down, he would still be there, right? He would still be working right now, digging holes or polishing stairs or something equally as gruelling. If he would be doing it in that situation, he should be able to do it here.

Moving the crutch forward made the pain worse, and his side began to sting--it might have split open that cut. Still, Crutchie let it swing forward, then put as much of his weight as he dared on it and hopped.

Sure, it hurt--the padded underarm rest of the crutch dug into the cut and now Crutchie was certain it was bleeding--but he hadn’t fallen. He’d taken a full step with his crutch, all by himself.

Crutchie couldn’t find it within himself to be proud.

Slower than the first, Crutchie took another step, then another. By this point his chest was screaming for proper air, head pounding with each shuffle forward. It was time to turn back, before his brain decided that he wasn’t getting enough oxygen to stand upright. It really did hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. Everything hurt, so very very much.

Three more hops and he was back by the bed. He wanted to just collapse into it, fall face-first onto the blankets, but he knew that would be more pain than it was worth.

Never mind, he was just too tired. Crutchie faceplanted into the bed, screaming through gritted teeth as it jostled his various injuries. He lay there for a few moments, knowing he needed to turn over in order to feel less pressure on his lungs and breathe properly, but not yet wanting to lie on his twinging back.

He’d made six steps, he added up as he situated himself. Six measly steps. It had been about a week since he left the Refuge. A whole week of rest and he could still barely stand, let alone walk. He had to get back out there, pay his way, provide for himself. He hadn’t asked who was paying for his rent and food, but he had a strong notion it was coming from someone whose name sounded a lot like Kack Jelly. 

Jack wasn’t selling near as many papes as he used to, not with the amount of time he was spending back here. According to Katherine, he was getting a job with Pulitzer as an artist of some kind? Crutchie wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was--he’d been pretty feverish at the time--but it probably didn’t pay much, and Jack hadn’t even started the job yet.

Whatever Jack couldn’t come up with, the others would be pooling to make up for. Elmer was probably budgeting it, Crutchie thought absently as he fiddled with the bracelet on his wrist. Elmer was one of the younger kids, but surprisingly good with numbers and calculations and things like that. Elmer working out the money, Race encouraging the others to contribute, Specs and Mush talking Jack into letting them help--Crutchie could see the whole ordeal playing out in his mind’s eye. Jack wouldn’t have been happy, but he also probably was getting low on spare change. They’d all lost a decent bit just by not selling for the few days (or day singular, in Crutchie’s case) that the strike had lasted. If he could get back to work soon, he could stop taking their hard-earned money.

Tomorrow morning, he decided. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t walk today, he would have to tomorrow. He would get up early and make it out of the room before Jack even came down through the window to check on him. That would prove it to everyone that he could at least sell five papers. He was even willing to let Jack go pick them up for him, as long as he could sell.

Before any of that happened, though, Crutchie needed to check up on his bandages. Katherine would kill him if he had bled through them while trying to walk alone. Maybe not yet, though. Maybe he could just close his eyes for a second.

-

Something was . . . off.

Jack hadn’t made it in time to see the headline since before the strike, and in the past week, he’d ran up to Wiesel’s only for Specs to hand him his papers. The nervous looks the boys had shot him each morning should have been enough to tip him off that something wasn't right.

He’d ignored them though, assumed they had to do with his tardiness or the headlines. Now that he knew better, now that he knew something was up, Jack was torn between wishing he’d been on time every other morning and wishing that he’d been late this morning. Despite stopping back at the lodging house to bring Crutchie breakfast, though, he had somehow made it back before Wiesel even started selling.

Today the looks he was getting were downright panicked as the newsies lined up, watching him carefully. The air felt tense, even heavier than normal. Jack got in line with the rest of them, not pushing his way to the front like he normally did. Something was off.

“Jojo,” he said slowly, turning to the kid behind him, “what’s goin’ on?”

“Whaddya mean, Jack?” Jojo replied, false cheer coloring his voice. Jack narrowed his eyes at him. Jojo didn’t waver. Good for him.

Jack looked back to the front, trying to not fidget. He was supposed to be meeting with Pulitzer today, right about the time that he usually checked on Crutchie. Maybe if he bought fewer papes, he could skip over to the lodging house before hiking to Pulitzer’s office? He was supposed to be bringing some examples of his art, so he’d have to stop by the lodging house anyway. He also was supposed to meet with Spot Conlon even later, who was currently handling union business over at The Journal. The eventual hope was that Jack, Davey, and Spot would become a team, three appendages of the same purpose, who could all visit any one of the newspapers and discuss rights and the like. Right now, though, he wasn’t entirely sure what Spot had been telling The Journal. Their meeting this evening would hopefully remedy that.

“Hey, Jack! You’re here early!”

Jack looked up from his thoughts to see Davey grinning as he joined the line, followed by a waving Les. Jack nodded back to them.

“Thought I’d see how badly Race is swindlin’ Snyder,” he said, and a couple of the boys gave forced chuckles. Okay. That was odd.

“Papes for the newsies! Come on, I ain’t got all day!”

Jack began to step forward in line, only for Mush to come out of nowhere and grab him by the arm.

“Hey, whatever happens, I gotcha back,” Mush said. Jack frowned. What was he talking about? “Jus’-- jus’ don’ fight if you can help it.”

Fight?

Jack was beginning to feel like he wasn’t going to like this at all.

As always, his intuition was correct. It wasn’t hard to laugh off Weasel’s snide comments about where he had been and their union, but then Morris Delancey opened his stupid mouth as he was handing Jack his papers.

“Where’s the crip, huh? We was hoping we killed him when Snyder let us at him. You been out mournin’ him?”

All background chatter faltered. At first Jack thought it was just his senses tuning in to Morris and Morris alone, but he realized vaguely that everyone was watching this interaction. The smile slipped from his face as for once, he was speechless. His teeth grounded together as the image of Crutchie screaming, crying for help while the Delanceys beat him into the ground was forced into his head.

Morris noticed, as did Oscar, who stepped forward with a grin. “What?” Oscar asked. “Tough Jack Kelly, gonna cry because the mean Delanceys bashed a poor cripple’s head in?”

Those were fighting words. Oscar knew it, and Jack knew it, and Oscar knew Jack knew it, and Jack knew Oscar knew Jack knew it. Jack couldn’t find it in him to care that he was being goaded--he was seething. Crutchie had come back to the lodging house unconscious and nearly dead, almost unrecognizable and the Delancey brothers had been a part of that. They might have been the ones who made it so painful for Crutchie to breathe, or the ones who hit his head so hard he couldn’t see straight, or the ones who broke his arm, or the ones who left the handprint-shaped bruise on his throat that still hadn’t faded completely--

They were laughing now, saying more vile things that reached Jack’s ears muffled, as if he was underwater. Someone else said something, gripping his arm, but Jack wrenched away from them. He grabbed Morris’s collar, drawing him close.

“You two wanna take that back?” he growled. Morris bared his teeth in a dumb grin.

“Maybe we oughtta go find him, in whatever corner the rat’s crept to ta lick his wounds. Bet he’d squeal just at the sight o’ us. Bet he’d try ta drag himself away. Bet he--”

Jack socked him square in the jaw. There was noise, lots of it, but all he could focus on was pummeling Morris until his now-shocked face was covered in blood. Hands pulled at him, but Jack dove over the counter, papers flying, to land on top of Morris, slamming fist after fist into him. Oscar kicked him hard in the side and Jack took that opportunity to latch onto his leg, pulling him down too. Before he could do any real damage, though, two strong sets of arms were prying him away and pulling him through the mess of newspapers.

“Jackie, Jack, please, let’s just go--”

Jack shoved Davey off of him, trying to shake the others off his back.

“You scared, Morris?” he shouted, voice cracking, struggling with the increasing amount of arms holding him back. “Only brave ‘nough to pick on thems as can’t fight back, huh? Huh!?”

Oscar was helping Morris up, the latter holding a hand to his own nose as it spurted blood. Everyone was yelling, screaming, shoving one another, and Jack found himself being dragged away, even though he was still trying to throw punches and kick out. “Let me go!” he gasped, face burning as red as his sight. “Let me at ‘im--he can’t--he said--!”

Mush and Tommy Boy ignored him, not letting him go until they had gotten him into an alley, surrounded by what seemed like every Manhattan newsie. There they loosened their hold, and Jack jerked away, dragging a hand under his nose as he glared at them all. Some of them had the decency to look ashamed, but most looked completely unrepentant, a few glaring right back.

“Lemme guess, you all’s known about this?” Jack said loudly, glancing from Specs to Race, from Buttons to Elmer. Les looked away.

“Don’t feel bad, Jack,” Jojo pleaded. Jack didn’t even look at him. “Albert tried ta do the same the other day.”

“I ain’t feelin’ bad,” Jack practically bellowed. He kicked the wall of the alley angrily. Still no one looked away. What was wrong with them? Why were they staring at him, some with pity, some with defiance? Why couldn’t they just go about their business and leave him to his?

“Look, Jack--”

“No! No, Racer!” Jack fell to his knees, tearing at his hair. He choked on a lump in his throat and realized there were hot tears rolling down his face. “It ain’t--he--” he took a shuddering breath, his voice cracking-- “why do they gotta hate him so much?”

No one answered. Jack stayed like that for a while, his knees digging into the dirt of the alley, frequently sniffing and rubbing at his face. How could someone be so terrible, that all they lived for was hurting kids who already had it hard enough? They had literally threatened to kill Crutchie, had faked remorse at not finishing him off the first time--

Jack was going to be sick. His stomach flip-flopped, reminding him of how he hadn’t eaten since midday yesterday. How could the others just stand there, while the Delanceys made vile threats toward one of their own, toward Crutchie? They had even known already--why hadn’t they told Jack?

Jack’s stomach twisted again, but before he could toss anything up, there was someone kneeling before him.

Davey wrapped his arms around Jack, pulling him into an awkward, stilted hug. Jack collapsed into the contact, shaking uncontrollably. He just wished everyone else would go. He just wanted everyone to stop staring at him. Davey ran gentle fingers through his hair, hushing him with little “Sh, sh,” noises.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Davey murmured. “Crutchie’s gonna be okay, Jackie. We’re gonna get through this.”

Jack almost choked out a laugh. David’s naivety couldn’t be helped--Crutchie had spent time in the Refuge, days where he was without help or support, growing weaker and weaker with every beating. It had been a good three years since Jack had been in there, and he wasn’t recovered. He wasn’t ever going to recover. How could David say with such certainty that Crutchie would be okay?

“I hope you’re right, Dave,” Jack said instead, voice thick with emotion. He curled his fingers into the stiff fabric of Davey’s vest, swallowing back another round of tears. “I hope you’re right.”

[clintbartonswife]

i’d trade my life for yours

Pairings: Geralt of Rivia x Jaskier Summary: Jaskier will be loyal to Geralt until his last breath, this he swears. Notes: im sorry. descriptions of torture. mentions rape (not graphic in the slightest, more like an allusion, but tagged it just to be safe), major character death. This is the bad ending, for a nicer ending read the series below :) masterlist  || nicer ending (p2)

Jaskier had always felt too much, falling a little bit in love with almost everyone he meets. The seamstress from Beauclair with the deepest green eyes he had ever seen, the knight from Kerack who had muscles the size of Jaskier’s head, the innkeeper and his wife from Rinde who had the warmest smiles he had ever seen.

All loves that he treasured, yet let go after a night or two, the heartache keeping him company until he found another gorgeous person to fall for.

When he finds Geralt at the ripe age of 18 it’s different, for once the bard doesn’t want to leave, a nagging feeling pulling him along the path by the Witcher’s side.

His love grows easily, from that of shallow appreciation of his honey golden eyes to a fierce want to protect his love from those that scorn him in every village they visit, a need to nurture the fragile relationship they were building.

It’s only Jaskier’s luck that the only person to ever intrigue him enough to stay seems to want him to leave, impenetrable walls built around his heart.

So, Jaskier writes songs of their travels, being respectful of Geralt’s boundaries whilst still trying to provide as much tender love and care as he could without scaring the Witcher, all the while falling deeper and deeper in love.

Everything starts to go wrong after the djiin.

He watches through the window as his heart breaks with every thrust of Geralt’s hips, the Witchers disinterest (which he had assumed was general Witchery distance) suddenly making more sense - he just didn’t like Jaskier.

Still the bard stayed, sewing his heart back together with every step he took beside the Witcher. His affectionate touches didn’t falter, not allowing his own personal hurt to affect his Geralt negatively. He still deserved as much softness as he could bring himself to provide - Melitele knows Yennefer wasn’t providing that.

Jaskier funnelled all of his creative energy in to his songs, more and more of them staying in his private notebook, too personal to be sung in front of Geralt, let alone the general public.

After each time they met with Yennefer, Jaskier was there to pick up the broken pieces the Witch left behind, baring the brunt of Geralt’s bad mood for a week after she had gone, heart chipping a little more each time as his hatred for the woman grows.

The last straw was the dragon hunt. The whistling winds whipping Jaskier’s hair in his eyes as Geralt’s words lashed out at him, vicious and hateful.

In the following two weeks, Jaskier drank to forget, falling back into old habits and into strangers beds with a new desperation.

The young farmer with hazel eyes - not as beautiful as Geralt’s. The miller’s daughter with blonde hair - not light enough.

The people begin to blend together, yet it doesn’t work. The heartbreak still radiates through his body, numbing him from any other emotion.

He’s too drunk to register that Cintra has fallen.

Too drunk to hear the rumours of the bounty on his head.

Too drunk to notice the Nilfgaardian soldiers entering the tavern.

Too drunk to defend himself against their arms that steal him away that night.

When he awakens the next morning, head throbbing with the familiar pain of a hangover, Jaskier is hit with a wave of nausea.

Turning his head to the side, he reaches for the bed-side table, blanching when he finds his arms restrained. It takes a few seconds to register that he’s in unfamiliar surroundings: the distinctly tavern smell (of weak ale and piss) gone, the slightly scratchy linens of the bed replaced with a hard wood surface.

Unrestrained panic swelled up in the bard’s chest, his instincts kicking in as he tried to mimic sleep.

‘Just breathe slowly, keep your eyes closed and stay calm’ repeated through his brain, sounding suspiciously like Geralt’s voice.

“-the bastard up yet?”

“He wasn’t the last time I checked, no sir”

“And no sign from the Witcher?”

“None sir”

Jaskier heard a scoff as the door opened, two sets of feet stopping at the side of the chair. Unnerving silence fell for a few seconds, before a heavy kick was given to his ribs, punching the air from his lungs in a loud exhale.

“Now listen here, bard” the bigger of the two men all-but-growled, looming over Jaskier as the singer blinked heavily to clear the daze that had settled over him, “We’re going to make this real simple. You tell us what we need to know, and maybe we wont kill you”

Scrunching his nose in disgust, Jaskier considered his options, “What is it that you want to know?”

Another scoff.

“Maybe he’s not so useless after all” the tall man sneered, exchanging an amused glance with the man stood in the corner, “Tell us where the Butcher of Blaviken is”

Self preservation was forgotten as the nickname stirred up anger deep inside Jaskier, the unfairness choking him, “I’m afraid I don’t know any butchers, not the biggest fan of hanging around long enough in towns long enough to befriend anyone in that profession I’m afraid”

That earnt him a sharp slap, the sting helping to ground him.

“Don’t try to be smart. Where is the Witcher - Geralt of Rivia?”

“Oh, I do know him” Jaskier answered, tone kept light and conversational, “Of course I haven’t seen him in months so I’m afraid I’m really of no use to you gentlemen”

Another slap.

“Now that must be a lie. Why would the Witcher leave his little whore behind?”

Now that one stung, the frown forming on Jaskier’s face before he could stop it.

“Aw, struck a chord with that, did I? He found someone else I assume - though Melitele knows how anyone can lay with a monster like -”

Rage finally overflowing, Jaskier spat in the man’s face, “How dare you call him a monster. He’s a better man than you’ll ever be”

A bitter chuckle, followed by a punch that left the bard tasting copper.

“I think you might actually be in love with that thing” he said, amused, “That just makes this all the more fun”

Jaskier held eye contact with the man, glowering as he slowly spat out the pooled blood onto the floor.

“Tell me where he is”

“No”

Two punches to his stomach, and a hard kick to his shin.

“My sister hurt me worse than that for stealing her brush when we were seven” Jaskier sneered.

“Where is he”

A backhand across the face, followed by three hard kicks to his ribs.

“Toss a coin to your-”

Another heavy kick to his stomach, winding him slightly as he keeled forward, a burning pain spreading over his chest.

“Oh valley of plenty” he wheezed, forcing his head back up to stare at his captor’s face.

The day carried on very much the same, Jaskier working through his repertoire of songs as he was beaten black and blue, the lyrics keeping him focused and alert.

The man in the corner just stood and watched, his silent presence looming over the beating.

“I must say” Jaskier eventually huffed, directing his words at the man in the corner, “Your indifference to this situation is highly annoying. Are you not enjoying the performance?”

His question was met with another heavy hit to his stomach, the skin there surely covered in a patchwork quilt of forming bruises.

“You bore me”

The voice was cold, cutting through the pain like a knife and replacing all feeling in his body with the need to flee, an innate wrongness surrounding the man.

He stepped forward into the light, pink eyes flashing at him, “I think it’s high time we shut you up”

The taller man grinned, a shark-like expression that just added to the bard’s discomfort, moving behind him to grab him by the sides of the head, tilting him so that his neck was bared to the room.

They’re going to slit my throat, Jaskier thought absently, half delirious with pain, this is it.

The slimy tendrils of magic prodding at his mind made Jaskier’s eyes widen in panic, struggling against the bonds in a fruitless effort to get away from the unsettling sensation.

No. No this was so much worse.

He could handle pain. He could handle taunting words and harsh treatment. The one thing Jaskier couldn’t handle was fucking mages.

“No - “ he gasped, voice distorted by the angle of his head, “please-”

Yellow eyes. Lips curled in to a snarl.

The mountain.

“Damn it, Jaskier!”

No. No no no no no no no. Not this. Anything but this.

“Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, its you, shoveling it?”

White hair. Curled fists.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands”

Wet eyes. Shattered heart. A wasted life.

“Damn it, Jaskier!”

And it looped. Again, and again, and again,

“Ready to talk, bard?”

His eyes fluttered open, eyelids heavy, fighting to remain closed.

“Fuck. You” he hissed, words mangled through gritted teeth.

The mage smirked, fingers reaching for his temple again, “Very well. It seems like one hour wasn’t enough”

The last thought Jaskier had before being pulled back to the mountain was one of horror, that one hour had felt like an entire day.

When he came to once more, Geralt’s voice still ringing in his ears, Jaskier realised there was a new man in the otherwise empty room.

“Going to talk yet little birdy?” the man asked, voice far too light for the circumstances, his posture reminiscent of those that approached him in taverns with hopes of charming him into bed that night.

The realisation occurred to him as he noticed his hands were free, a rusty cot added to the corner of the room.

“No” he whispered, the horror palpable in his tone.

“Well that’s too bad” the man sneered, his too-rough hands dragging him out of the chair and towards the cot.

The irony was that in that moment Jaskier would’ve given anything to have been back on that mountain, Geralt blaming him for everything, rather than be faced with his current reality.

Of course, the mage wasn’t kind enough for that.

Jaskier wasn’t sure how many days had passed since his capture.

What he did know was this: his throat was too sore to speak, ruined from both abuse and lack of water; his body was so mottled that it looked like he had begun rotting, greenish-yellow marks covering almost every inch of his skin; his back shredded by the impromptu whipping session earlier that morning; and he wasn’t sure he could muster a smile, even if informed of the untimely and gruesome death of Valdo Marx.

But, no matter what they threw at him, he would not betray Geralt.

He had made this vow to himself during a quiet moment on (what he guessed was) the second day, that no matter what faced him - be it further torture, mutilation and eventually death - he would not speak a word of the little information he knew.

He may have ruined Geralt’s life, may have annoyed him with his incessant and unwelcome company, but one thing Jaskier could give him now was his undying loyalty, the one thing that no one could take away from him.

They wouldn’t take away his love.

So he breathed steadily as he looked as his hands, tied down firmly to the arms of the chair, taking in every detail of the calloused fingers that made him the famous bard that he was today.

“Last chance. Where is the Witcher”

Jaskier just grinned, the smile bloody and insincere.

“Fucking your mother I would imagine” he croaked, withholding the wince of pain from the strain on his throat, instead widening his grin at the look of anger on the man’s face.

With a growl, the man brought the hammer down heavily on Jaskier’s left ring finger, smiling sickeningly at the bard’s agonised scream.

“Where is he?”

Head fuzzy with pain, Jaskier scowled and spat his blood in the man’s eyes.

The sickening crunch of bone echoed around the small room, Jaskier’s scream ringing out as another two fingers were smashed.

The line of questioning continued until all of his fingers were unrecognisable, the bard humming ‘Fishmonger’s Daughter’ through tears as he tried to regain control of his breathing.

“What a shame” the captor said, fake sympathy swimming in his cold eyes, “Looks like you’re worth even less than you were when we found you. What worth is a bard if he cant play anymore?”

The man pretended to think, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “Of course! A brothel worker!” He paused, tutting again and shaking his head, “No you cant even be that, we’ve made you far too ugly”

Jaskier tried to ignore his words, focusing on his rattling lungs instead, forcing them to inhale and exhale.

Unconsciousness crept forward, the pain finally overwhelming him, Jaskier falling into it’s open arms gladly.

“-cher isn’t coming for him. We’ve had the word out for two weeks and got nothing”

The words drifted in to Jaskier’s cell, the conversation prying him from sleep.

“So what do we do? The bard’s not talking”

“We were meant to give a destination by yesterday”

“So we make one up, blame the bard when it comes back empty”

“… That could work”

“Then I’m guessing we kill him afterwards?”

“Theres no reason to keep him”

“Well-”

“You’re not using army funds to feed just so he can be your personal whore, Cahir would skin you alive if he found out”

Jaskier huffed a laugh at that - the realisation that his worth had finally been reduced to what his father had called him all those decades ago, ‘a worthless whore’, ‘useless to polite society’.

The conversation carried on, though Jaskier’s mind drifted, thoughts racing yet head surprisingly clear. He shifted in his seat, only slightly to the left, wincing as the healing whip wounds on his back pulled open again, the stinging pain keeping him tethered to consciousness.

Not for the first time, he wondered where Geralt was. Safe, that he was sure of, hidden from the greedy eyes of the Nilfgaardian army if their unhappiness was anything to go off of.

Had he found Cirilla yet?

Was Roach okay?

Was he taking proper care of himself?

And - in even his lowest moments - he found himself wondering how Yennefer was.

If she was handling the break-up better than he did.

If she was safe, happy, looked after.

Or maybe, perhaps even back with Geralt. The three of them playing happy families while Jaskier rotted in a cell and waited for a hapless death.

Being on your deathbed gave you a lot of perspective, Jaskier had realised, and he found it hard to even hate Valdo on occasion (until he regained some energy from a piece of stale bread thrown at him and immediately felt disgusted that the thought had even crossed his mind).

As the fog in his brain seemed to seep into his dimming vision, his thoughts returned to Geralt’s eyes.

“Goodnight my love”

The news reached Geralt as they were passing a backwater town. 

“The bard Jaskier - I swear it was! They dragged him out t’wards the Nilfgaard base”

“Tom stop jabbering, they would’a been shouting that from the rooftops if they got ‘im”

Coldness seeped into the Witcher’s bones as the words registered in his brain, his eyes flying to Yennefer. The sorceress was looking at him with pity in her eyes.

“I can try scrying-”

“Please”

Ciri watched in awe as Yennefer set up her equipment that night in their camp, bouncing with barely restrained curiosity at all the new instruments that the mage seemed to summon from nowhere.

The young princess’ enthusiasm calmed Geralt slightly, focusing on her youthful movements instead of the dread that settled over him at the thought of Jaskier’s current situation, guilt hitting him every few minutes as he replayed their last conversation.

‘If life could give me one blessing-’

“He’s in Neunreuth” Yennefer said, looking up with a solemn expression, “in a Nilfgaardian fortress”

“They were right” the Witcher breathed, utterly defeated.

“So we’re going to get him right?” Ciri asked, enthusiasm now dampened by the morose mood emanating from the two adults.

“Of course” 

Yennefer quirked her eyebrow at his firm reply, before nodding in agreement, “We’ll leave first thing tomorrow”

Geralt knew the second he stepped out of the portal that something was wrong.

“He cant be here” he thought aloud, “It’s been abandoned”

Yennefer frowned, her expression telling him everything she refused to say out loud, “He’s here”

“No”

Striding forwards, the Witcher advanced on the old manor house, nose picking up on the scent of Jaskier’s blood the second he reached the front door.

“No!”

Strides turned in to a sprint as he chased the scent, denial still swirling through his brain as he got closer and closer to the muted wildflower scent. 

“Jaskier”

The name fell from his lips as his knees gave out from under him, the sight of his bard’s limp body hanging from the chair punching all the breath from him. The smell of rusted blood was overwhelming, a pool in the corner dating back months.

Geralt sat there, disgusted by himself as he imagined how long Jaskier had waited for him to come and rescue him, how long he had stayed faithful to a monster.

He wasn't worth Jaskier’s life.

He wasn't aware he was crying until Yennefer laid a hand on his shoulder, “Geralt-”

“No” he hissed, struggling to his feet and moving over to the bard, “he cant be dead - he -”

Eyes wild, he turned around to face the sorceress, rising to his full height, “Fix him. I know you can - you did it last time”

“Geralt-”

Anger overtaking him, he pulled Jaskier’s limp body into his arms, unaware of how much his own hands were shaking.

“FIX HIM. YOU NEED TO FIX HIM NOW”

“Geralt stop”

“YOU NEED TO FIX HIM” he shouted, falling to his knees again, cradling the cold body in his arms as he sobbed, “Please fix him, Yen I need - I need you to fix him please”

The woman sighed, brushing a hand over Jaskier’s temple, looking for any sign of life.

“He’s gone"

Geralt’s cries could be heard in the next village over, lasting well into the night.

Not long after, tales of the White Wolf, Princess of Cintra and the Raven Sorceress were spread far and wide, the image of Cahir’s head on a stick engraved in the public’s minds.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Winter Whumperland Day 6: Mistakes

Summary: Written for Winter Whumperland Day 6. Set in a Modern AU, follows up on Day 5 'Animals'. As they arrive at their destination for the trip, Hiccup manages to slip away long enough to tell someone where he is.

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Eret, Viggo, Ryker

Pairing: Vigcup, past-Hiccstrid

Words: 7 768

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “Branding”

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Please read the tags.

I think this is the darkest fic I've written to date, which Day 6 probably taking the cake. (Unless a future Day tops that and I may now which one, but that is just my opinion) I think this counts a dark fic, doesn't it? I've surprised even myself! I've had a dark fic in mind that I've been working on, never thought I would write this one before I finish that one!

Constructive criticism is appreciated! Including on the tags! I tried to tag everything under the sun, but I might've missed some.

Enjoy!

I almost want to tag this as a coffee shop AU.

@amonthofwhump

Ao3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hiccup is ashamed to admit that he's quiet the rest of the way. As they sail towards their vacation destination, he thinks of his friends, his parents, Gobber, Toothless, and White Spot, too.

Will he ever see them again? He won't if he doesn't get away from these two madmen, because submitting to Viggo simply isn't an option.

He certainly tries to persuade him. He can see that Hiccup is quieter then usual and he wants to make use of the emotional turmoil he must be going through after being told how this little trip can possibly end. He's even quiet compared to his time spent in the basement and his ribs were broken back then, not allowing for much breathing space.

There's an empty look in his eyes as Viggo tries that he quite likes. It's quite promising, he finds, and so he's been persuading him with promises of letting him leave the house once in a while. They have a big yard, they can let him sit outside for a few minutes. So long as he does it quietly, of course. Cars still pass their home on occasion, so they can't let him make too much noise.

And maybe, when he's really good, they can even let him call his family or that blonde girl that clung to him.

They can spin a little story, make it seem like Hiccup's been found by them, the Grimborns, after having been missing for years. But only after it's been years. Surely by then, they'll have conditioned Hiccup enough to not leave them and not betray them. They can even give their tale the exciting twist that Hiccup now forever clings to "his rescuers". So that when Hiccup is given the generous opportunity to see his loved ones again, they won't be too suspicious when he inevitably chooses to stay with the man who rescued him rather than the people who lost him.

It's a horrible, horrible thing, truly disgusting. The worst part is, Hiccup is actually tempted by the sweet, sweet promises. He doesn't look forward to the years more of pain and misery, but he does so long to see his friends and family again. But the fact that more suffering seems more tempting than fighting that suffering is just one more reason why he can't submit.

The whole reason for them being here is to get him to do just that and if he submits, he's lost.

The steady decline of trying to physically oppose his abusers followed by the decline in opposing them verbally until all that remains is secret rulebreaking that was never secret to begin with, actively using Viggo's desire for him to save himself from hurt or the threat of returning to the basement, not correcting those men at the party when they told Viggo how lucky he was to have Hiccup... These past months have been a gradual descent to a broken spirit.

Hiccup can feel the cracks desperately trying to glue themselves back together again. He wasn't aware of it until now, after this kick while he's down, but they might've been trying to ever since he got to see the light again. The cracks were already there, they've always been there, and they can't put themselves back together. Every time they try, more of them appear, and all the more impossible it becomes to lose the pieces.

Something else that makes it difficult to keep this fight up is that Viggo can actually be called nice for once.

Of course, Hiccup is smart enough to figure out that this is just another ploy to manipulate him. Viggo knows he's close, he just needs to reel him in.

Besides the empty promises replacing the very true threats, he hugs him when he feels lost. It's nothing like the forced cuddles after sex and Viggo isn't an affectionate man either, which makes this one feel almost sweet.

How easily he sinks into the hug frightens him. How he lies his head on his shoulder and feels the tears burning in his eyes frightens him.

Though he never wants to be touched by either man, especially not the younger brother, this is the first time he realizes how deprived of affection he's been throughout it all. The sex was empty to him, when it was consensual, and besides that, there were only bruises, broken bones, and burns. His blistered hand itches terribly underneath its bandage.

In that moment, he begs for his father then. He wants him to show up out of nowhere and pull him out of this nightmare. Or maybe his mother can come down with a dragon and whisk him away back to the sanctuary. Either way, he wants them to come for him before he's lost forever.

In the final minutes of their trip, Viggo holds him, and then they land on the docks of a snow-covered fishing Town by the name of Port.

It's small and Viggo has probably chosen it because of how small and remote it is. Maybe he hopes the news of a missing 19-year-old hasn't reached this place yet or maybe he hopes the sudden appearance of a clearly very rich man scares them out of being nosy about the oddly dressed person with them.

Because just before they dock, Viggo releases him and a pair of sunglasses are shoved onto the bridge of his nose and the hood of his hoodie, and then his coat are pulled over his head. It's to keep people from recognizing him and the Grimborn's presence is supposed to scare them off. One brother rich, the other clearly trouble.

Hiccup says nothing as they dress him up in this little disguise before they land and leave the boat after anchoring.

The docks are busy. It makes sense, their biggest income comes from fishing and not the tourism their beauteous little landscape would probably attract. On a more normal day, Hiccup would appreciate the view of the mountain in the very back with the vast and wide forest at her base, but this isn't a normal day.

But he's not quite as gone as the Grimborns seem to think he is, because he notices that neither of the two is holding him. Have they been lulled into a false sense of safety by his quietness? They couldn't even drive him to the boat without blindfolding him and tying his wrists together.

But then, aren't many criminals caught because they made a mistake?

Unfortunately for them, Hiccup sees an opportunity and he takes it.

"HI- HENRY!" By the time he hears that fake name, he's already disappeared into the crowd of fishermen and dock workers.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Minutes later, he can finally breathe. Crouching in a little alleyway between two buildings, he pants and attempts to recover his lost air. It's not easy to run with a prosthetic, but his is self-made and it was made with the intention to allow running. There's a system with a spring to allow a bit of ankle movement, too. Can't chase unruly dragons if he can't run, can he?

He dares to peek around the corner, staying low and not quite leaving his safe haven behind a trashcan, but he sees neither Viggo, nor Ryker.

Are they... gone?

Overwhelmed by the feeling of relief, he sits back against the wall, staring straight ahead of him.

No, this can't be real. He can't have really just escaped, right? This has to be some sort of prank or a joke. It can't have been that easy.

But he checks again, this time daring to peek out a bit farther, and he still doesn't see either of them.

They're gone. And not just at work gone, they're gone gone!

He feels emotional and it's so easy to lose himself in that emotion, but if he doesn't get back up and start moving, they won't stay gone for long. That's the only reason why he manages to get back up on his feet and face the public outside of the alleyway.

Scanning his surroundings a third time, the people who pass him by are staring, but he gets why. He's wearing sunglasses in the middle of the Winter in a small town that probably isn't used to much.

So he gets moving and wonders what his next move is.

They've only traveled along the shore, can he grab a cab or travel back by bus or train somehow? Though, there is the problem that those options require money, which is something he doesn't have.

The police? No, he feels strangely distrusting of them after their failure to find him for so long.

The hospital? That means finding out if Port even has one and if he can navigate his way there before he's caught.

But then he comes across a little story, a fishing and bait shop, and something promising catches his attention through the window.

A poster with his face on it. A missing person's poster!

He walks in urgently, nearly ripping the door off its hinges in his hurry, the bell above it jingling loudly, and removes the hood of his coat.

Unfortunately, there is only one person present in the story and he, a man with black hair tied back in a ponytail and a blue tattoo with meaning on his chin, he doesn't look at him with the most welcoming of frowns.

Can Hiccup blame him? Who comes into a calm store in the middle of Winter with sunglasses and a hood on? And nearly breaks the door on his way in, too! Still, he doesn't waste any time as he makes his way to the counter.

"Listen, Bub, I don't know what you're planning on doing, but if it's trouble you're looking for-" The man speaks with an English accent, but he's cut off when Hiccup reaches him.

"Please," He begins, removing his sunglasses and pulling the other hoodie down. "You need to help me, I'm-"

But he barely needs to say anything, the second he reveals his face, that of the young man's changes to one of shock and he whirls around in his spot, immediately searching for and finding the poster hung on the store's bulletin board.

"You're him?" He asks, pointing first to the poster and then to Hiccup. Hiccup nods, happy that someone recognizes him. This man, Eret he reads on the nametag that is a sticker on his sweater, recognizes him.

"You're actually alive? I followed the news, they said that they caught the guy and that they were sure you were dead because the guy wasn't giving up where you were!" He talks to him and Hiccup finds that to be news to him.

"If they caught the guy, then who have I been held captive by since June?" He asks, quietly sarcastic instead of loudly sarcastic like before, and runs a hand through his hair in frustration.

Is that why they never came for him? Because they just put someone in jail and called it a day?

"Please, you have to help me. The people who kidnapped me, the actual people responsible, they want to kill me!" As if he wasn't already alarmed enough before, he certainly is now. But Eret seems to take it in stride and nods understandingly.

"Don't worry, you're safe here." He tells him, briefly grabbing his fist to squeeze it reassuringly. He draws back and pulls his phone from his pocket. "Do you want to call the cops?"

His thumb is ready to dial, but Hiccup hesitates and thinks of the likelihood of them showing up when they arrest some guy and then assumed he was dead just because they couldn't be bothered to actually solve his case. The media attention hounding them for answers must've annoyed them instead of urged them to find some.

So Hiccup shakes his head.

"Can I have your phone for a sec instead?" He asks and Eret, figuring he might try to call someone who can be of actual help, decides to hand it over after unlocking it.

"Thank you," Hiccup thanks him and leans on the counter to spare his stump his weight for a moment. He sags in relief, holding a phone without consequence for the first time in forever. With Eret here, he already feels a bit safer.

But Hiccup doesn't immediately call for help, instead signing in into the first social media account he can think of to find the first person with an account he can think of.

Astrid.

Perhaps, the smarter idea would be to call his dad or someone who can come get him. Maybe he could've called his mom to tell her where he is and maybe then the "whisked away by dragon" dream isn't so farfetched after all.

But that's not what he does and he can't quite explain why he didn't either. He'll kick himself for it later, but all he wants is to see his friends.

When he finds Astrid, he notices that her head has changed since the last time he's seen it. It's no longer her and Stormfly, now it's her and him. And as he scrolls through her page, she hasn't posted much of her usual stuff, instead there are just pictures of him and pleads for any tips. He's always known that she has a library full of him, none of these were taken without his permission.

So he's right about one thing. His girlfriend and friends have been looking for him in one of the few ways they think they can. And his dad, well, he doesn't have an internet presence, but he doesn't need one for Hiccup to know that he hasn't given up on him yet either. He hopes so, at least.

There are those emotions again, he must be tired.

Eret watches him, sees him wipe at his eyes with a sleeve quickly to avoid spilling the tears they both know are there. There are blue bruises surrounding a cut on his cheekbone and staining his jawline. It appears his left hand is bandaged, too. Even without the context of the escaped abductee, Eret can still tell he's been through the wringer and so he walks away from the counter.

Hiccup hurriedly looks up, too alert.

"You want something to eat while we wait? Something to drink? We only have snacks, but I think they"ll keep you going until we can get some actual food in you. You want a coke?" Eret asks as he stands before the fridge, wondering if he can lift his spirits with a little food. He does look awfully thin.

"That would be great, but I don't have any money on me." Hiccup informs him that he can't pay for anything for the time being. Turning to a different screen on the smartphone, he quickly finds the call function with the intention of dialing his dad's number.

"It's on the house!" Eret opens the fridge to take a coke from. Next on the list will be a candy bar and he'll probably go for the one with the most calories.

Hiccup smiles at him and for once his smile isn't forced. It's small, but it's certainly there.

Behind them, the door to the store opens, and the little bell jingles. Eret barely responds to it, it's a sound he's heard so many times before. In his search, he disappears behind some shelves.

"You own this place?" But Hiccup looks over, taking his eyes away from the phone, away from the number he's only just dialed a mere three numbers of.

He finds them and he can tell by the built and the clothes who it is. He doesn't need to see his face to know, his bald head covered by the hood of his jacket. And as he spots something gleaming in his hand, he simply freezes in place.

This store is too small and Ryker is upon him too soon.

"No, I don't, my dad runs this shop, I'm usually out at sea. So it won't be a problem, I'll take care of it!" Eret replies to Hiccup's question, completely unaware of what's transpiring before the counter. Behind those shelves, he isn't quite close enough to hear or to see what's going on.

Ryker's too close to run away from without making a scene and the brothers hate making a scene. If he does anything stupid, the man kind enough to help him out will get hurt. Eret doesn't look particularly weak, but Hiccup knows Ryker isn't and he doesn't want to take any unnecessary risks. Not when someone else's life could depend on it.

The tip of the knife pushes into his stomach, threatening to pierce his coat with ease. It certainly looks sharp enough for the job.

"She hasn't been in your sight for a few days and you already forgot her? Don't think that just because she's in a shelter that she's safe." Ryker is so close Hiccup can smell and feel his breath as he whispers in a growly voice.

He did think that White Spot being out of the picture meant that they couldn't use her against him. Apparently, he was wrong.

"And what's worse, dragging an innocent man down with you, are you? You better be quiet and follow my lead or your new boyfriend is going to die in a mugging." Ryker threatens him with Eret's life If he takes the money from the register, people are probably not going to link a presumed mugging case to a kidnapping case. And if there are cameras, well, Ryker isn't so stupid as to leave those intact.

"You're-" Hiccup wants to tell him that he and Viggo are sick for playing with the lives of a two-month-old cat and an innocent, but Ryker raises a finger in warning and he quiets down.

"Hiccup?" Upon not receiving an answer, Eret returns with an armful and lays eyes on the other man, too.

He'd welcome him, as he would any customer, but he doesn't like the close proximity between him and Hiccup.

"What's going on here?"

Ryker wraps a strong arm around Hiccup to pull him against him and the young man jumps when he can feel the knife be pushed into his lower back now. It's with such pressure that it makes him gasp in discomfort.

"You'll have to excuse us. My brother's partner here thinks he can get attention by pretending to be that poor missing boy. Not the first time, he's been in and out of institutions for years. He's an addict, too, so please don't be angry with him." Ryker uses the fakest voice he can muster as he excuses Hiccup's behavior before he pulls him along.

"Hiccup-" Eret is ready to jump in, but Hiccup stops him.

"It's Henry, actually. And he's right, I should be going." It hurts to accept that false name for his own, no matter how briefly, but he feels like he needs to. It's bad enough that White Spot's sole purpose in life is to be used as leverage, he doesn't want Eret to get hurt just because he made the stupid decision to go into the first shop that had his face in it.

Eret doesn't give chase when Hiccup is pulled out of the store, he's left to watch them go. The jingle of a bell has never sounded as ominous as it does at that moment.

"Maybe making an addict out of you wouldn't have been such a bad idea. At least addicts don't run." Ryker growls into Hiccup's ear and he can't help but feel like he talks out of experience.

Inside the store, Eret leaves his armful of delicious goods on the counter. His gaze is still on the door and he debates running after the two all the same. He's weighing his options, how risky would that be?

But then he notices that Hiccup left his phone and picks it up.

"He never even got to call anyone." Unlocking the screen, he notices a partial number. He takes a screenshot of it, maybe it can still be of use later, and then swipes the phone app away to see a stranger's social media page.

"Astrid Hofferson?" He reads out loud and sees the number on one of her posts asking for tips.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Maybe asking Eret for help was a mistake, maybe the decision to go with Ryker was the mistake, either way, Hiccup can't say he regrets it. There were too many uncertainties in that situation, too many risks, he feels like he made the right choice.

After a... reunion with Viggo, they take their bags and stuff them into a rental car. It's the nicest and most expensive one Port has to offer and it makes Viggo sneer in disgust, but it'll have to do.

While Ryker has seemingly calmed down a bit, as a matter of fact, he almost appear expecting something, Viggo's anger is so thick it's palpable. The whole ride to their destination, there's pressure inside Hiccup's chest, a pain, and it's difficult for him to keep breathing. And while neither brothers are chatterboxes, the silence is unusual even for them, and that makes the storm brewing on the younger one's face all the more concerning.

What is supposed to be their home for the next two weeks is a cabin far, far outside of town. It, too, is way below the younger Grimborn's usual taste and it further rubs in the fact that this vacation isn't supposed to be a vacation.

The second they enter and the door closes behind him, another hit, this time on his other cheek, and a pair of hands wrap themselves around his throat.

"No!" That is all Hiccup can choke out before his airways are closed off and he's pushed into the nearest wall.

"What about last chances did you mishear, Dear?!" The temper flare Viggo's been holding in on the way here bursts free and he squeezes.

Ryker watches for a moment with little care, only glad that Hiccup isn't getting out of this without consequence, and he's soon off to find his usual room. Viggo may think this place beneath him, but Ryker quite likes it.

"N... n-" Hiccup would respond, except he can't. He can't draw a single breath and he can't exhale one either. His lungs are burning to do both, the pain in his chest worsening. All he can do is try to remove those hands from his throat and that's hard to do with one hand burned. His good foot is standing on its toes, too.

"What do I have to do to make you submit to me, you stubborn boy!" Viggo shouts. He would squeeze harder if he could without irreparably damaging something important and it's taking him everything to hold back just that.

"St... st-" Hiccup continues to try, pulling on his abuser's hands, attempting to curl his fingers beneath Viggo's without luck. He's begging him to stop, face red, teary-eyed, and saliva with nowhere to go building up in his mouth.

Is this how he's going to die? By being strangled to death? Surely, Viggo isn't willing to give him up quite yet? Why put all these months in him just to throw him away?

Black dances at the edge of his vision, threatening to consume him. He wants air so badly. He wants the pain to stop.

And then Viggo's glare softens lightly as an idea comes to mind. His eyes fall on the fireplace on one end of the room.

"Ryker, light the fireplace. I may have an idea." His hard gaze goes back to Hiccup, who is only moments away from losing full consciousness, while Ryker returns and does as he's told.

Hiccup passes out soon after, the hold on his throat relinquishes and he crumples to the ground.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he comes to, it's to his hoodie being pulled on, alarming him.

"No... No-no!" He croaks out a protest, weakly attempting to pull those hands away from him now, but in his current state, he's no match for them.

He's pinned to the ground on his front by Ryker, his face pressed into the wooden floorboards beneath the fire.

"Oh, stop your struggling, you know it's pointless." He tells him and Hiccup can't reply to that, his throat in too much pain. The hurt inside his chest is horrendous as well.

"Please-"

"If you want to be let go, then either you undress for us or we'll have to use force," Viggo says, crouching by the fire. What he's doing there, Hiccup doesn't know and can't see, but it's can be good. It sounds like he's playing with the fire, poking the wood inside. Is it a fire poker?

Hearing no more protests from him, Ryker releases him and Hiccup somehow manages to get up on his knees. He glances towards Viggo and what he's holding doesn't seem like a fire poker to him, but he can't see the entire thing.

"I'm waiting, Hiccup, don't test my patience any more than you already have," Viggo warns him and, reluctantly and with difficulty, Hiccup does as he's told and slowly removes both the hoodie and the t-shirt underneath. At his belt, he hesitates.

The clothes they made him wear, he's just noticing that they're the ones he wore the day he was abducted.

What a time to notice that.

"That's enough. Now, back to me." Viggo tells him, standing up with the rod he holds as it's glowing a bright orange. At the very end, there are the distinct letters of 'V.G' and they're the brightest part of all.

With horrible dread does Hiccup realize that they plan on branding him. Him! Like cattle! Like property! As if they couldn't treat him like any more of a personal slave, they want to do this to him.

"No!" His throat hurts as he speaks. When he makes a move to stands up, Ryker is quick to take an arm and twist it behind his back, making an end to his futile attempt to escape.

A cry rips out of him, worsening the pain. He can squirm and writhe, but all it does is convince Ryker to test the limits of his elbow. Cringing, Hiccup can feel the joint's want to pop apart.

With just this move alone, he's completely restrained and Ryker grabs his hair with his free hand and pushes his head down.

Though never an overly prideful kind of person, Hiccup had dignity at some point. That seems to be gone now as he has no problem begging them not to do this to him.

"No, please, not that! I'll behave! I swear I'll behave this time, just don't brand me! Viggo!" He hates those words, hates that they even need to be said, that he needs to beg for something so inhuman to not be done to him. His voice comes out hoarse and there are cracks with every other spoken word.

But Viggo doesn't care to listen to his pleas. While the iron is hot, he comes to stand by him and with one swift motion does he choose a spot and presses the branding iron on his right shoulder blade.

The feeling of flesh searing away is instant and Hiccup screams. Whitehot agony sets his nerves ablaze and they scream with him.

Viggo holds it there for a second, two seconds, three, until a total of five have passed and that's when he removes it. Those five seconds felt like an eternity and Hiccup's life has been changed all over again.

He doesn't need to see it to know that it's there, he can feel it on his skin. He's been branded to be someone's property and after everything that's already been taken from him, Viggo might as well make him something akin to furniture.

The figurative cracks bleed and they give up on trying to fix the damage.

Ryker releases him and Hiccup brings a hand to his arm, folds over, and cries, his forehead pressing into the floorboards.

He's been defeated. What more needs to be done to him to prove that? He never stood a chance.

Viggo stands over him with a smirk, certain that his young captive has finally been broken.

"Get me the medical supplies, Ryker, we don't want that to get infected." The younger brother tells the older one and he leaves to search the luggage for them. They'd certainly come prepared for this.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"If you'd just been smart and stayed out of trouble, this could've been avoided," Viggo tells him sometime later as he puts the finishing touches on the dressings covering the fresh brand. Honestly, Hiccup has no one to blame but himself. If he hadn't been so stubborn, this wouldn't have been necessary.

As for the brand, it's been properly cooled, cleaned, and there's a healing and disinfecting salve on it. All that remained were the dressings and Viggo has been applying them gently.

They're sitting on the bed they'll be sharing together for the next two weeks and he's faking being nice again. He's acting like a net, there to catch Hiccup at his lowest moment thus far, like he was on the boat. Like he was the day Viggo let him see sunlight again.

Hiccup doesn't respond to him, which is quite fine with Viggo. He usually has an answer for everything, very annoying, so silence from him is a good chance of pace.

The dressings are in place and Hiccup doesn't shy away when a kiss is placed on the back of his neck, his hair moved out of the way. The hand stays on his neck, thumb rubbing his spine.

In as much pain as he is, Hiccup doesn't even feel the usual cold shivers those touches give him.

But then thick lips come down on him again, meeting with his hair, the skin on the back of his neck, and then his shoulder. They're placed deliberately slow and Hiccup can feel his heart sinking. He can already tell what's about to happen, what his wanna-be owner wants from him. The same thing he's wanted from him since the very beginning, that which he's used as a shield more times than he'd like to admit.

"Lie down on the bed, on your front." Viggo growls into his ear, this time not in anger, but in desire. His hand caressing Hiccup's back and coming too close to the overly sensitive area surrounding his shoulder blade, he can only listen.

He kicks his shoes off, brand pulling beneath the dressing, and removes his prosthetic before he gets further up on the bed. He lies down, his arms wanting to wrap around a pillow only for him to yelp when the initials on his back don't agree with him. So now two letters have more say over his own body than he does.

That hand returns to his back and he can feel its fingers tracing his spine upwards, going ever so slowly until they reach his hair and then they go back down. Going lower and lower, they reach his belt and that's when they leave.

He can hear the other remove his shoes, a belt that isn't his be undone, and then he's straddled. All he can do is bite into the pillow and hope it'll be over soon. That is how his first evening on this trip ends.

The fight has entirely left his body.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, Hiccup is certain he's finally been broken. The brand and last night's sex, if it could be called that, after he thought for a short moment that he was free is what it took.

Every single day since he's seen sunlight, he's had to wake up at 5 am, every day without fail. While Viggo showered and went on with his morning routine, Hiccup was expected to lay his clothes out for him, make the bed, and then make breakfast. Every single day.

So imagine how strange it must feel to wake up and see that it's light out. It's winter and so the sun shouldn't even begin to rise until after eight. Have they let him sleep in?

His head is heavy, his everything is heavy, and the brand, while still painful, doesn't burn quite as much as it did the night before.

Reaching for the watch on the nightstand, he sees that it's 11 am and that is even more troubling. And yet, Hiccup can only decide to take whatever punishment must be awaiting his tardiness. What's the point of fighting it?

He gets up and dresses in the same clothes as the day before. He doesn't know yet if he's allowed to shower or even wash up, so he attempts to ignore how uncomfortable he feels, feeling sticky with sweat and whatever else, and he finds his way to the living room and then the kitchen.

As he walks, he doesn't feel like he's the one doing the walking. He doesn't feel like he's entirely awake either, though he's certain he is. It's like he's stuck somewhere between reality and a dream.

When he finds the kitchen and the Grimborn Brothers, it's not him who tells them good morning with a sore throat and a barely audible voice, and neither of the two even mention how long he's slept in.

On autopilot, Hiccup leans down and presses his lips to Viggo's in a good morning kiss. There is no feeling behind it, certainly no love, not even the slightest hint of something akin to like. Though he's almost certain good morning kisses used to have a spark to them once upon a time, in a long distant past.

They talk to him, like they would talk to a person, and Hiccup doesn't hear himself respond, but he does. He's too out of it for the words to reach him, though it's him that they leave.

He's starving, but he gets to work on lunch for the two older men first. Because that's expected of him, because what he is to them, what he was taken to be, was nothing but free personal labor. A one-dimensional companion with a select desirable attributes and personality traits. Someone willing to give it up for free and without complaint whether he feels like it or not.

A slave, that's what they searched for in him, and a sex slave is what Viggo was specifically looking for. One they could have the pleasure of personally destroying until nothing was left. One Viggo could occasionally play chess with if he wanted to.

The thought should hurt, but if it does, his mind is too far away to realize it.

Are minutes passing? Before he realizes it, lunch is over. Ryker has left while Viggo is with him as it's his turn to eat, their hands together on the table. And then lunch is over and he's unpacking their stuff while they're each off doing... he can't remember what Viggo told him.

Hours are passing and it seems like time is no longer a concept he can perceive as it goes by like a blur. It seems like his mind and his body have separated from one another, though still very much in touch.

The day goes by and he can barely remember it, though it still somehow goes so agonizingly slow. He sits around for most of it, only leaving his designated spot on the couch when he's told to go do something.

Somewhere inside of him, the very notion that he's been broken saddens him, but he's all out of tears to shed. And even if he shed some more, who would care? Viggo would see it as more proof of his victory. He'd use it against him, comforting him as he'd done on the boat and after the branding. And Ryker, he would just find amusement in it after all the trouble's caused them.

It isn't until evening creeps up that he seems to be snapping out of his trance. He's been washed by then and it's like he's waking up from an hours-long slumber.

It's time for dinner and as Hiccup is finishing it up, the brothers are sitting at the table waiting for him to be done. They're talking, almost completely ignoring his existence. Or rather, Ryker is talking and Viggo occasionally hums in response while not bothering to actually listen.

Ryker is complaining about having had to go through all of this and needing to travel all this way just to break one person.

"I told you, Viggo, you should've stuck to female. If he were one, he'd be knocked up and known his place already. Like a woman would." It's a disturbing thing to say and Hiccup feels sick to his stomach, almost counting himself lucky that he was born a male.

And now he finds himself thinking about the phrasing Ryker uses. "should've stuck to." Hiccup has had his suspicions, of course, but this means he definitely wasn't the first. And this cabin that is Grimborn property, but has gone unused through most of the year as it is far beneath their standards, and where he would have his last chance to become theirs for good, is probably a murder cabin.

Does that mean all those previous people, mostly women, but without a doubt, there were men amongst them, too, have they all been buried here? With these two, Hiccup doubts they were even allowed to identify as themselves under their roof.

No longer paying attention to the food, his gaze goes downwards and sticks to the wooden floor. Are they outside? Or is there someone beneath his very feet?

"Henry!" Viggo uses what is apparently not only a fake name for in public, but also a new and permanent name. He has to stand in a hurry to shut off the stove, the fish in the pain falling apart and burning to a crisp.

To do so, Hiccup is shoved aside and the pain falls, landing on his toes.

"Oh fuck!" A yell leaves him, his foot off the floor as a terrible pain radiates from the limb. It's cast iron, so he can expect his toes to be broken, if it's just that.

This must be the universe spitting on what remains of Hiccup haddock. What else could this possibly be?

"It's your own damn fault for being such a clutz." Ryker can't stop his chuckling. "Another reason why we should've stayed with girls, Viggo, at least they know how to cook."

"That is so insulting." Hiccup mutters as he leans on the kitchen counter, he doesn't even realize that he said anything.

But then, he's not supposed to speak unless spoken to or unless explicitly given permission. Like a dog told to bark on the command, but to otherwise keep silent.

Ryker stares at Hiccup in surprise. Meanwhile, as Viggo was trying to salvage their dinner, he stares at his pet project, too. Only then does Hiccup realize he's spoken. Those were just four simple words, but they rock all three of them.

"What was that, my Dear?" Viggo challenges him to repeat himself, to show if he's brave enough to speak up again and prove that he isn't quite as there as they first thought he was or if he'll prove that he's mistaken.

Looking up to him, Hiccup can feel his heart pounding in his ears.

"I'm-I'm just-just-I'm just saying that-that it's... that's it's- you know- sexist to think of women in such a way." Hiccup can hear his thoughts shouting at him to shut up, to finally, for once in his goddamn life, keep his trap shut if he doesn't want a repeat of last night.

But the words are out before he can stop them and his sentence isn't a mere four words like his previous one.

Does that mean... that he isn't as broken as he felt like he was?

"I suppose thinking you could still come around was a mistake." Viggo is surprisingly calm as he speaks up again. There is the undeniable undertone of anger, however.

Ryker recovers quickly, figuring he isn't entirely surprised by this turn of events.

Hiccup hasn't been given them sass for months for nothing, after all, even he recognizes that. To date, Hiccup's been the most troublesome one by far. Viggo's methods have been much too damn slow. Him and his meticulous planning... If it were up to Ryker, that boy would've been broken long ago.

But the laughs. He laughs because this means only one thing.

"You see this, Viggo? You know what this means, don't you? We get to kill that boy, after all!" He laughs, almost relieved with this surprise.

When the laughter abates, Ryker grabs Hiccup by his hoodie.

"And after we ride ourselves of you, it'll be my turn to choose your successor and I've had my sights set on a pretty lass for months already." Once again he's in his face, close enough for Hiccup to feel the spit on his skin.

Who? Who is this girl that's going to be next?

"Remember that girl of yours?" At the mention of Astrid, his eyes grow wide and he grows colder than he's ever felt than in all the time he's spent with them.

"Blond, pretty, good curves, tits, and ass, if there's something I can respect you for, it's that you have good taste. And when you're dead and buried, we'll be taking her next." Never in all his life, no matter how short it's about to be cut, has anyone ever dared to sum Astrid up using only her body.

"And don't you worry, I'll take good care of her as I personally make sure she's broken before her first month is up. I'll tell her all about y-" When Astrid and Ryker's apparent plans with her are brought up, it sparks something inside of Hiccup he thought he'd lost. The urge to punch someone in the face so hard that they lose a tooth.

So the biggest proof that he can still get up while he's down no matter what, is without a doubt when his reaction to such a horrid thing is to follow up on that urge and punch Ryker in the jaw with such strength and anger that he ends up flooring a man bigger and stronger than him.

It is... such an invigorating feeling.

"Don't you... Don't you dare talk about her like that. I don't care what happens to me anymore, but don't you dare think about hurting her, my friends, or anybody that I love the way you've hurt me!" He warns them, growing louder with every word to the point that he's shouting.

And it feels so, so good.

He wants to cry and this time out of pure relief, out of the sheer overwhelming flow of emotion coursing through him.

For once, Ryker is the one too frozen to move. Never has he been flattened by anyone before, let alone someone like Hiccup, who is looking all too energized by his achievement.

But while his attention is entirely on the elder of the two, the current object of his hatred, it's the younger one to takes action before Hiccup can get any more ideas. He uses the fallen frying pan and lifts it high before bringing it down onto his skull.

The pain erupts, but it disappears quickly as Hiccup passes out, temple connecting with the kitchen counter on the way down.

Either way, it's suddenly black before his eyes.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Abysmal." Breaking the silence for the first time since they started playing, Viggo does so with an insult.

"You're not the most supportive of winners, are you? You could've at least given me an "you did your best, kiddo!" instead if giving me that." Hiccup isn't a sore loser. He can be a bit of a boastful winner at times, but he's not a sore loser. Still, when that is what he gets to hear upon losing at chess, again, he does feel a little sore.

Viggo is a very critical man, it seems.

"I would never say such a thing. You have to earn it first and your poor chess skills make me nauseous." Hiccup rolls his eyes, feeling even sorer.

His left leg is up on a chair, complaining after being on his feet all day. Maybe Astrid was right and he should've listened when she told him to come home with her. An evening with her and Snotlout, maybe even Fishlegs and the twins if they feel like coming over, definitely sounds 100 times better than this.

But Viggo is clearly a lonely man or he wouldn't be spending his after work hours on a young adult who can barely play the game he wants to play with him.

He pulls his phone out, realizing what time it is.

"I'd ask Viggo, the greatest chessplayer of all time, to teach me some of his tricks, but it's almost 11 and I haven't eaten anything yet. Astrid's going to kill me if I don't go home now." He tells his opponent, missing, the dangerous disappointment on his face. He misses it as he's texting Astrid to come to pick him up.

He's perfectly capable of walking himself home, but Astrid clearly insisted on her and his friends coming to get him, so he listens. She can get a bit overprotective of him at times ever since the whole Dagur incident and he hates worrying his loved ones.

The text message sent and slouching in the chair, Hiccup looks up to Viggo as he cleans their game up.

"A great chessplayer never just reveals its secrets, Hiccup." He tells him when he finishes and their eyes meet. "But you would do well to learn from him if you intend to survive even one game."

"Now if you'll excuse me, I believe I need to head home myself." With the folded chessboard and work briefcase in hand, he takes his leave.

As he reaches the door, Hiccup briefly stops him.

"Sometimes being smart isn't enough, Viggo. You'll see, someday my stubborn butt will beat you!"

Hand on the door, Viggo takes a moment to look at Hiccup, who will, without mercy, roast someone so badly they'll need an actual burns unit, but somehow can't bring himself to say the word "ass." He's a funny one, for sure, and Viggo only holds so much weight to his words.

"Goodbye, Hiccup." He tells him and exits the coffee shop.

[hunnybadgerv]

For your fandom ask: H, N, S, and Z?

From the Fandom Meme

H - What is your favorite source text for fandom stuff (e.g., tv shows, movies, books, anime, Western animation, etc.) Most of my fandom source texts are video games. Not sure why, but I don’t get quite as invested in films or TV shows the way I do with video games. And sometimes it happens with books, but only really rarely. I’m not sure why. I mean with books and shows, sometimes I’ve thought about writing things, but I usually don’t end up going through with it. I think because at that point I’m messing with only someone else’s characters and it is hard for me to get invested fully into work that is only the creation of another.

With video games, I get to participate in the world in a manner of speaking. There is an interactivity and engagement inherent to video games that creates a different focus and a buy-in that is not present in other sources, at least for me. I get to create a character and fit them into this world and watch them move through it--and sure they fall along a certain line according to the developers’ plans, but I do get to have a hand in it. It’s the reason I’m a sucker for RPG games.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice) I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure what I’d say for any of my fandoms. But I do kind of sit at the edge of my fandoms, all of them. I’m not in the middle of anything in any of them, and I’m perfectly content there because I’m moderate participant at best.

1. I’d really like to see the Saints Row fandom revive itself. It used to be quite a lively and welcoming location. It seems that most of those that remain are the gatekeepers.

2. I’d like to see more respect and inclusion for Faith Seed. There is a group of people in that fandom that like to treat her like she is not part of the family. Despite this tendency in some corners of the Far Cry 5 fandom, most of the people I’m surrounded by also hold that Faith is a valid member of the family who should be included in discussions and representations of the Seed siblings.

3. This question would be so very much easier if I was a more active participant in my fandoms. Overall, I wish more of us, in all my fandoms, were still active on tumblr. A lot of people migrated away. Perhaps if I were more active in other places, I would still be able to reach out to them. Though I know many of them are on Discord, it’s just not a medium that works for my mind. Plus, I’ve kind of been cut off from things so long that I still struggle with maintaining connections with people. It’s something I’m particularly bad at.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go (prompts optional but encouraged) Okay, so this is more difficult than I anticipated.

I’m both fearing and excited about the Legendary version of Mass Effect releasing in May. I really am looking forward to the graphical update and the game play cleanup. Though I really don’t know that I want to see them adjust the Mako controls, I loved that sketchy thing and the fact that if you tried hard enough you could climb over anything. I loved the Mako in all it’s flaws and fabulousness.

I’m also kind of concerned about the possibility of them altering the story or the characters in some way.

There is a tendency nowadays for fan opinions to be able to alter plans, story, and characters in media. And I really don’t want them to change the franchise in order to meet some loud corner of the fandom. I loved the game as it was, flaws and all. I really fear that they might institute some odd change to suit some rabid corner of the internet that will unravel the fabric of something I’ve loved for so long.

Though in the same vein, I’d love to see some changes here and there. Perhaps the ability to romance Ashley as fShepard, or Kaidan in the ME 1 timeline as mShep. I don’t know. But then again. If I rally for those sorts of changes, then I open myself up to the other potential changes.

S - Show us an example of your personal headcanon (prompts optional but encouraged) Hmm. I really enjoy the templar’s lore in Dragon Age, but I wanted to see where else I might be able to take it. I thought, what if there was some magic in templars that allowed them to wield lyrium effectively. And I started doing some reading with old chivalric knights and ideas about knighthood and chivalry in histroy and literature and I wanted to bring that kind of sense into the templars lore, perhaps even a forgotten or overlooked bit of lore for them. And I started playing around with the idea of Templars containing or controlling their own magical ability that is only enhanced by the lyrium. And this kind of happened.

I put it under a cut because it is incredibly long.

Malcolm found his daughter sitting in the grass at the back fence. She had been crying and he was disturbed by the idea that his wife's concern may have been more warranted than he'd given it credit for. He sat next to her and leaned against the fence. "Tell me," he said trying to keep his voice even.

"I don't even know," she said weakly.

Malcolm slid his arm around her shoulders. "Did… did he?" He could barely say it let alone think it.

She shook her head. "No, Father," Aderyn said surprised that he could think that. "I really don't know how to explain it." She wasn't sure how to talk about this with her father. But he was the only person who might be able to help her. She explained some things, though not others. She left out the details about how Cullen had ended up shirtless. "I saw a glow, it was strange. There was no warmth either, which is why I can't figure out how I burned him. I can always feel the glow of fire," she said as she stared at the grass running the event through her head.

"It was a burn?"

"Well, not really. That's what it looked like. And Cullen said something," she said looking up at her father hopefully. "That there was nothing discernable."

"You should have brought him with you."

"What did I do to him?" she asked, clearly concerned. "And how can I control something when I don't know what it is?"

"Did he return to the Chantry?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "I don't know." He looked at her for a moment. "I was scared. No, appalled. I hid. I  …"

"I'm sorry I can't assuage your fears. I'll see him as soon as I can. See if there is anything I can do," Malcolm said, hoping to reassure her some. He stood and offered her his hand.

"Aderyn!" They both turned to see him running up the path. He hopped over the fence and stopped when he saw her father's face. "Malcolm, pardon me."

"No need." Malcolm ushered them both inside and quickly into his small study. If what his daughter said was true he had to be objective, at least until he found out what had happened. He could be an upset father after he knew what had happened. Aderyn started to leave, but Malcolm told her he would need her assistance.

"Show me," Malcolm said as his fingers moved across the spines of books on a shelf. When he turned and saw the mark he dropped the books he'd pulled off the shelf. He glanced at the templar then looked at his daughter for a long moment. He clinched his jaw and gathered the books he dropped. The mage set the books on the table and touched the distinctive mark in the center of the young man's chest. "Did it burn?"

Cullen shook his head. "I didn't feel anything." He looked over at the unnerved woman in the corner. "Aderyn saw a glow. I can't tell anything about it, it's like there's no trace of magic to it."

Within the hour Malcolm was more concerned about what had occurred than that his daughter had been in a position to leave such a mark on the young man. He could find nothing in his research. The three of them had sat there for several hours as Malcolm searched through his books with the help of his daughter. When her father left the room in search of a rare volume he kept in a chest in his bedroom, Aderyn handed Cullen his shirt back and he stood and slipped it on again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered standing behind her. She leaned back against his chest and he set his hand on her hip.

"You have nothing to apologize for," she replied replacing her father's books on the shelves.

"It doesn't matter." "How can you say that?" she asked glancing up at him over her shoulder. She shelved another volume. "You can't hide what I've done."

"Actually, I can. Quite easily I must add. I'm not one for running around shirtless."

Aderyn would beg to differ, she'd seen the sight several times, but she couldn't make light of the situation she was in. She was too scared for him, for herself, but most of all, for her family. She turned around and leaned against the bookcase. "How can you not be concerned?"

He set his hands on the bookcase on either side of her shoulders and gazed down into her eyes. "You are more than concerned enough for both of us." She glared at him a moment. "I'll tell you a secret." He leaned toward her. "I don't think it's the result of magic."

"What then?" Her look changed dramatically.

"I think it's something else. More potent than magic." He leaned toward her, but she ducked under his arm as the door opened.

"Smart boy." Malcolm closed the door behind himself, completely this time. "It's not something that can be performed by a mage." He looked at his daughter who seemed most surprised by the news; she sat down slowly. "As odd as this statement is. It's templar magic." Cullen laughed, but it was cut short by the look on Malcolm's face and a glance at the seal on the cover of the book. "It's a promise. Sealed by a touch."

Cullen looked at him curiously. Malcolm touched the book then looked back to the templar. "If this is correct, Aderyn give me your hand." She reached out to her father and he turned her right hand over to look at it. He nodded and loosed her hand. Aderyn touched her palm then looked up at Cullen, it was completely smooth. She showed the discovery to the templar. He ran his fingertips across her palm.

"I've never heard of anything like this," Cullen said marvelling at the complete lack of any texture on her palm.

"It is rare," Malcolm said. "I didn't think it could be the cause, truthfully I always thought it was little more than another part of templar legend, part of the myth." Both of them looked over at him carefully.  He sat down and closed the book. "An old friend claimed he was marked by his wife in such a way, ... on their wedding night," he added carefully. "It's determined by overwhelming trust and connection to another."

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #84: Arjuna

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re making the Hero of the Endowed and one of the leading players in the Mahabharata, Arjuna! Arjuna is, of course, the perfect hero, so he’s a great pick if you want to be good at just about everything except dealing with your crippling impostor syndrome.

Check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

Next up: The hero we need right now.

Race and Background

Arjuna’s human, but he’s also the son of the lightning god Indra, so it’s a pretty good excuse to make him an Air Genasi. This gives him +1 Dexterity and +2 Constitution. He also gets Unending Breath, because you can’t prove Arjuna can’t hold his breath indefinitely while conscious, and Mingle with the Wind, which lets him levitate when it’s time to use his NP. You can only cast this spell once per long rest, and it uses constitution as its casting modifier.

The Indian caste system probably doesn’t map 1:1 with D&D backgrounds that well, but it’s pretty safe to say Arjuna’s a Noble, giving him History and Persuasion proficiency.

Ability Scores

Your highest score should be Dexterity, archers tend to be pretty good with a bow. Well, Archers don’t, but you do. Second is your Charisma, you’re the most popular sibling in a family with two kids who are exclusively called “the beautiful”, and you somehow convinced everyone that the upstanding Krishna keeps telling you to do bad things. Third is Intelligence, you have to be pretty smart to keep your book straight, it’s dense reading. Your Constitution’s a little low, but it got bumped up by racial bonuses. We don’t need Strength, but we’re dumping Wisdom- you’re not known for your ability to resist temptation.

Class Levels

1. Fighter 1: First level fighters come pre-packaged with proficiency in Strength and Constitution saves, as well as two fighter skills. I’d go with Intimidation and Perception, just make sure you don’t pick any physical skills, we’ll get those later.

At first level, you get to pick a Fighting Style, and the obvious pick here is Archery for an extra +2 to all ranged attack rolls. You also get a Second Wind (ha ha, air puns), letting you heal up as a bonus action once per short rest. Sadly, this doesn’t charge your NP like Hero of the Endowed, but we’ll work on it.

2. Fighter 2: Your Action Surge lets you add an extra action to your turn once per short rest. If you try again before the turn’s over and you succeed, it’s like you never failed in the first place, right?

3. Fighter 3: I know a lot of people are probably expecting arcane archer, but Arjuna has tons of magic items, not magic skill. We’ll make our weapon fancy in a minute, but first we have to get a solid foundation with the Champion subclass. When you take this option, you get an Improved Critical, letting you score critical hits on 19s and 20s. 

4. Fighter 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to become a Sharpshooter, letting you fire at long range without disadvantage and take a -5 penalty to a ranged attack to gain a +10 bonus to that attack’s damage. You can also ignore all but full cover.

5. Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters get an Extra Attack with each attack action, letting you make two attacks per turn, or four with your Action Surge. Now that your basic attacks are covered, let’s have a chat with Agni about getting a worthy bow.

6. Warlock 1: Continuing this build’s metaphor of Genasi = elemental demigod, elemental gods would be Genies, which just became official warlock patrons in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything. Agni would be an Efreeti, and striking up a deal with him gives you a Genie’s Vessel, a tiny object that you can use as a spellcasting focus, and has an AC equal to your spell save DC (8 + proficiency + charisma modifier), HP equal to your warlock level + proficiency bonus, and is immune to poison and psychic damage. You can spend an hour while resting to replace a lost or missing vessel, and you’ll want to keep it with you because it comes with plenty of benefits. While touching the vessel, you have access to a Bottled Respite, spending an action to enter the vessel, with an interior space that you can store items in. You can enter the vessel once per long rest, and stay in there a number of hours equal to twice your proficiency bonus. You can also invoke the Genie’s Wrath once per turn, adding  an amount of Fire damage equal to your proficiency bonus to anything that involves an attack roll. This means you can add it to your arrows or spells. Versatile!

Speaking of Spells, you get pact magic from your patron that uses Charisma to cast, and your spell slots recharge on short rests. For cantrips, Eldritch Blast gives you some magical arrows before you even get your magic bow, and True Strike helps you aim better but not really. For spells, Detect Evil and Good will let you know when the Kurus are up to something (they always are), and Charm Person will keep your ridiculous disguises from failing.

7. Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations. Spend one on Armor of Shadows, because you’re clearly not wearing plate mail, and save the other for next level. Also pick up Cause Fear, because who wouldn’t be afraid of you?

8. Warlock 3: The Pact of the Blade gives you a magical melee weapon that you can summon as an action, and the invocation Improved Pact Weapon lets you pick a longbow as your pact weapon, gives it a +1 to attacks and damage, and makes it a spellcasting focus to boot!

Now that you have Gandiva by your side, grab Scorching Ray for more fiery arrows.

9. Warlock 4: Use this ASI to improve your Dexterity for better AC and accuracy. Also pick up Friends and Suggestion as your spells this level. A fun thing about the Mahabharata is that if someone of sufficient power says something will happen, it happens. We can’t make it so you’ll definitely win against your brother, but you should be able to apply this to smaller scale events.

10. Bard 1: If you want to be good at everything, you have to become a bard sometime. At first level, you get another set of Spells that use your Charisma to cast. Unlike most casting classes, multiclassing in warlock doesn’t mess with your spell slots, so just use whatever the books says at each level. You also get Bardic Inspiration, a number of d6 equal to your charisma modifier that you can hand out to allies to improve their attack rolls, checks, and saves. Finally, you get proficiency in any one skill. I think it’s safe to assume that living in The Forest for over a decade would help anyone’s Survival skills.

For your spells, Light and Message help you put on a light show and communicate on the battlefield. Animal Friendship will help you get that cute monkey friend of yours. Command continues the Speak and It Shall Happen effect from last level, and there’s enough talking animals in the Mahabharata that Speak with Animals should be a given. Also, you disguised yourself as a eunuch named Big Dick for a full year and no one called you on it, so I assume Disguise Self was in effect somehow.

11. Bard 2: Second level bards become a Jack of All Trades, adding half your proficiency to all checks you’re not proficient in. It’s not Anime Protagonist levels, but it’s still pretty good. You also learn a Song of Rest, adding a d6 to healing done over the course of a short rest.

For more of a healing factor, pick up Cure Wounds.

12. Bard 3: For your first and only round of Expertise, double your proficiency in Perception and Survival. You’re a pretty good archer, and you didn’t die in those twelve years. I think. Please don’t spoil it for me, I just got to their exile. You also get to pick a college, and the college of Swords lets you add some extra effects to your arrows to make them even more magical. When you take the attack action, you can add 10′ to your movement speed for the turn. When you hit with an attack, you can expend an inspiration die once per turn to add a Blade Flourish to that attack. Add the inspiration die’s roll to your damage, and then pick one of the following: a Defensive Flourish adds the roll to your AC until the start of your next turn, a Slashing Flourish deals the same amount of damage to another creature within 5′ of you, and a Mobile Flourish pushes the creature away, and you can react to move up to your walking speed closer to the creature. Amazingly, despite being called Blade Flourishes, none of these require a melee weapon, so have fun with them.

You also get another Fighting Style. You probably won’t use it, but Two-weapon Fighting will let people know you’re ambidextrous.

For your last bard spell, Enhance Ability will make your skill checks even better, giving you advantage on one kind of skill check for up to an hour. There’s also a couple extra bonuses for choosing physical checks, but this level’s already dragging on.

13. Fighter 6: Back in the fighter levels, use this ASI for higher Charisma. This gives you better spell saves and more flourishes per long rest.

14. Warlock 5: Bounce back to one last level of warlock for the third level spell Fear as well as the invocation Eldritch Smite, which adds 4d8 Force damage to a weapon attack by eating up one of your very limited warlock slots.

15. Fighter 7: Okay, back in fighter for real this time. At seventh level, you’re a Remarkable Athlete, adding half your proficiency bonus to physical skill checks you’re not proficient in, and adding your strength modifier to the length of running long jumps. By combining this and Jack of All Trades, you’re now pseudoproficient in every physical skill, plus initiative, without any of the effort.

16. Fighter 8: Use this ASI to finally max out your Dexterity for the strongest AC, arrows, and initiative.

17. Fighter 9: Ninth level fighters are Indomitable, letting you reroll a failed saving throw once per long rest. Failure is for people without the weight of the world on their shoulders.

18. Fighter 10: Tenth level Champions get an Additional Fighting Style, and the new Superior Technique option from Tasha’s lets us grab a battle master maneuver and pick up a d6 superiority die at the same time. The precision attack lets you add that d6 to an attack roll, for when you really can’t afford to miss your shot. You regain the die on short rests.

19. Fighter 11: At eleventh level, you get another Extra Attack, letting you nock a third arrow in a single action.

20. Fighter 12: Use your final ASI to strengthen your Charisma even further for better skill checks, stronger spells, and more flourishes.

Pros:

You’re good at ranged combat, with the ability to attack from afar with your longbow or medium range with spells like Eldritch Blast and Scorching Ray. Being able to use flourishes from 600 feet away also opens up opportunities for messing with enemy placement from a safe distance.

Thanks to Jack of all Trades and your plethora of social spells, you’re very good at dealing with problems outside of combat as well, opening up new opportunities for your party.

By having flourishes and smites on standby, you can deal a lot of burst damage when you deal a critical hit, which should happen often thanks to your increased chances and extra attacks.

Cons:

Your damage types mostly focus on normal arrows and fire, which tends to be resisted by a lot of enemies. Considering most of the Kurus are technically part demon, this could be an issue for you.

You have a few spell slots per rest, so you have to make your spells count. This is a similar problem for your flourishes, but you’re still better off than arcane archers.

Your low wisdom means you’ll fall for temptation pretty easily. Keep a good friend on standby to help you through the hard times.

[inviouswriting]

A Price For Love.

Got to talking with @candideangel about Kivera meeting G’raha Tia.

It would most likely happen in transition between probably before the final fight in 5.3

Obvious spoilers for shadowbringers and 5.3 patch. Not there yet? Don’t read this.

Also has @maiden-born-in-snow ‘s and mines polyship. May have gotten deep and fluffy in spots. and @meepsthemiqo ‘s character mentioned too.

G’raha knew his time was getting closer, it was a matter of literal time before he could act on his role. He was climbing stairs slower than those that raced to fight Elidibus. He rounded another corner only to be greeted with a face he had seen before, and hoped he never had to interact with.

“You know what you’re doing changes so much. Right?” G’raha has seen her around Shuri, he had a sense of dread every time he was around her. Like a creeping death. Kivera. 

“A little more time.”

“That is not what I am here for yet, and by the way things are looking. You might just escape me again.” She is death, in the form of a miqo like him, but in full black, and sitting on her scythe like a witch. G’raha Tia is confused to her words.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh? You don’t know? The soul transferring. The whole plan to save those scion members?” They were statements more than questions, reminders of what he had been working for.

“Aye.”

“So, I’ve come to you because things are being rewritten as we speak. However. Nothing is quite free.” He is confused to her words.

“To chase a new life, with the memories you have. My world needs something in exchange.” Kivera folds her arms across her chest.

“I am content to die here though.”

“You would say that, yet it seems fate has other options for you.” Kivera looks at her hand as she speaks to him. She had to carry out what was in motion. Green eyes stare at G’raha.

“Are you truly resigned to death then? You don’t seem the type. The whole bravado back with Hades when Innocence was dying. Elaborate plot to abandon this world for in favor of greener pastures.” She catches the surprise in his face.

“How do you know of that?”

“What am I.”

The Exarch knows what she is, one of the reasons she is visible is to those about to die. 

“So what do you want of me?” 

“I already told you. Your fate has changed, and I am no longer here for you. Well in a way. This body is dying. Your soul however. Isn’t. Then again a soul doesn’t really die unless devoured.” Kivera rambles as she kills her time. 

“What would I have to offer?” There is a brief change in her eyes from green to orange. Annoyance. 

“I swear women are less complicated than men. I need something from you to carry out this change. Your transfer requires an exchange, something of a payment. What are you willing to give up?” She asks, and G’raha thinks about it. 

“The memories of my old self in the Crystal Tower?” Kivera raises an eyebrow to this.

“Smart one. Sometimes.” He scoffs at her. 

“Smart people don’t die.” She interjects.

“Thus why you get yet another shot at a life. So in exchange for your life here, you sacrifice the memories and basically the life of your young self still sleeping away for this path?” Kivera hops off her scythe and walks up to him, he feels small compared to her, she was a bit taller than him. 

What unnerved him was her eyes. A vibrant green but cold there was no warmth in her eyes. Not from what he has seen her gaze directed at people like Shuri and Meeps. When she stares at him he feels like he is looking at exactly what she is. Death.

“I accept those terms if that is what fate has in order.” He sees her tug out a scroll and from the left white wing she pulls a feather from it. She crosses his name out replacing it with the name he uses in The First as Crystal Exarch. He is one of the few to see how the ink seems alive, feathery as she writes.

“For the sake of Angelique, no more time meddling. That girl loves you more than you realize.” She turns away from him to begin up the stairs towards the fight.

“Wait? Kiv-”

“You will not call me by my name, you do not have permission yet. Reaper works.” She cuts him off from using her name. 

“Reaper. What of this life then?”

“You already know. Can’t change what is already in motion. This life here does come to an end. Now. I am busy.” She is regretful in the next one she does have to take. 

G’raha sees her again, after the exchange is over with Elidibus. She remains unnoticed to the rest of the group, not interfering with the events as they play out. It is after he is turned crystal that he senses her in front of him.

“As promised, this life has ended, but this soul is far from done. Memories from the past to be replaced with the future.” Then there is nothing, at least until he wakes from his stasis in Crystal Tower. Angelique had brought the vessel, and is the first sight he sees. Kindness and warmth in his soul at a face he loves. 

He doesn’t forget glancing to the side and seeing Kivera once as she flits from the tower waving him off.

Kivera had returned to Shuri’s home by this point exhausted she had resigned herself to curl up between Divinity and Shuri. Finding their touches less offensive she did not want to be touched by men and Ardbert and Estinien understand this mood from her. She favors the girls a tad more, her excuse is they’re softer.

“So I take the exchange went well then?” Ardbert prods at the reaper for answers. He is met with Kivera sinking her face further into Shuri’s hair while Divinity winds her arms more around her from behind.

“That miqo should be up and running around in a few weeks. Along with your scion friends.” Kivera presses her face against one of Shuri’s horns rubbing her cheek to it in the manner she had learned when she dons her auri form. Divinity rests her head on top of Kivera’s knowing her tired nature from doing her role.

“He- could be a friend to you too.” Kivera wrinkles her nose a bit.

“Maybe in time, but that boy has made me break some taboos.”

“Wait you said that it was ordained by fate... You mean you stepped in?” Estinien knows her disdain for interfering. He is met with a grin from her.

“I have a soft spot for real love. I also know what it is like to lose someone to twisted fate.” He remembers her memories she had shared of Damien.

“And you say you are this cold-hearted being.” Ardbert feels a sense of proud in her for doing something right.

“I am cold-hearted. I just pick and choose what I want to see happen. Lest we forget my alignment.” She raises a hand to shoo them off.

“You are done asking me questions. I’d prefer some quiet.” Kivera sees the men look at her questioning. Estinien tugs Ardbert off to grant Kivera what she asks for. 

“She’ll answer us when she is in a better mood.”

“She really spared him.” Ardbert was more amazed at how she boasts so much about her conforming to her role. Yet here she was, breaking that role for a friend.

Angelique chances across Kivera after a few days. Seeing her at night in Mor Dhona. She sees her sitting on the edge of a ledge.

“It’s nice to see you for a change.” Kivera lowers her eyes a bit.

“It is, how is he?” She inquires to G’raha’s health.

“He’s up and running around already. Poor Krile though I think she is about to drop.” Kivera listens to her, hearing the amusement in her voice with a brief smile of her own.

“Good. Cherish him. He earns your love.” Kivera tucks her legs underneath herself, and Angelique sees a moment of vulnerability from the elusive reaper. 

“I do cherish him, thank you.. back there.” A brief flit in Kivera’s eyes from their green to a yellow. 

“Angelique!” G’raha finds her, and when the blonde turns away from Kivera she waves to him. When she looks back Kivera has disappeared again. 

“Talking to someone?” He asks, seeing her look surprised.

“I forget she does that. I was, but she left.” Angelique answers a little bewildered, and G’raha figures out who.

“She’s still mad at me?”

“I don’t think she is mad, just keeping her distance.” This seemed to satisfy him for now.

“So there is a chance she’ll come around.” He wants to make peace with the reaper, but even he knows from seeing her, she picks and chooses who she wants to be around. The men he’s noticed are less compared to the women.

“It takes time.” Angelique reminds him, and they both turn to head off towards Gridania. When his head was turned he felt something ice cold and wet hit the back of his head. He turns his head and is met with another water ball. Angelique is surprised at the magic and looks for the source.

Kivera takes a shot at her as well, only with her warm water hits instead of the ice cold that she pelted G’raha with. They both manage to see her a few feet above them at a distance. Mischief in her gold eyes.

“I think that answers our question.” Angelique laughs seeing how she had messed G’raha’s hair with water. She herself wipes the water from her face. G’raha shakes his head, and glances at their supernatural friend.

“Are we even yet?”

“No. Far from it. Don’t you have places to be?” She lowers her eyes a little and magic on her fingertips ready to summon another set of water at him.

“We were about to leave till ack!” Another cold water ball thrown at him. 

“Why throw water at me?!” 

“Why not.” Kivera readies another one, a wild grin on her lips as she makes the miqo dance a bit with a few well aimed water balls. Angelique watches this exchange and it makes her wonder what exactly he did to earn her ire like this. A hand places itself on her shoulder, and she sees Estinien.

“She’s in a good mood. Looks like she is accepting him.”

“A good thing right?”

“If she didn’t like him, he wouldn’t be here.” His attention turns to Kivera.

“Go easy on him, he’s still recovering.”

“It is why I am using water. Unless he is secretly allergic to it like a normal cat.” Kivera pipes up and Estinien sees she is about done with it. A few more barrages of water thrown at him, and she lands next to G’raha. 

G’raha eyes her wearily. 

“Was that necessary?” Kivera looks him over and uses her base element of fire to dry him off.

“It was.” G’raha fidgets with his hands, looking down. Kivera can see what he is about to say, and before he can muster an apology. She flicks his nose.

“I don’t want an apology for something you didn’t do. Just don’t do anything stupid to make that one cry? Then we’ll call it even yes?” G’raha looks over to Angelique and nods after holding his nose.

Kivera goes over to Estinien’s side, she gives one more look to G’raha before she flits once and disappears back to Shuri’s home.

“Are you sure she was in a good mood?” 

“She was, she’s a bit of a trickster when she is in high spirits. She’s constantly pulling pranks on Ardbert. And myself. So trust me, she is in a good mood.” He recalls the time Kivera and Shuri ganged up on him with, Shuri being sweet to him in front while Kivera stuck ice cold hands on his back.

“We should get going. Meeps did want to see us.” Angelique reminds him, and knows not to keep Estinien too long. They go their separate ways. 

Kivera lingers a bit on the roof of the house, truly questioning her place in this world. She looks at one of the several multi colored feathers she had gained. She had grown several of them for the realms she had traveled and lives she had spared instead of taking them. Her own mind muddled with after thoughts of whether she is doing right by letting things happen with mild interferences. 

She saw the grief-stricken Meeps, she had seen how the remains of what was Lillith separated from Shuri, she has seen how fate gave Ardbert to her, bound her even. This world she is in, is full of things, the biggest is how many she watches overthrow cosmos and fate again and again. 

She saw how Kiya excitedly ran back to Ishgard to see Aymeric. How she envied her a little in her pure self. Hecate would be happy with her new life if she could remember. Gaining her own knight to love. 

Kivera lost in her own thoughts for once doesn’t notice the hand reaching to the middle of her back. A single finger runs down the middle of her spine between her wings. Kivera reacts by jumping and turning to see Shuri. Her wings poofed up in the manor of a scared owl even her tail puffed a bit, and eyes wide and white, then flash down to pink looking away.

“You’ve been up here ever since you got back. Everything alright?” Shuri notes she managed to startle her, and opens up her arms for her to come into them. Kivera glowers brief at being startled, then finds her way to rest her head on Shuri’s lap.

“Just thinking, do I truly belong with you and yours?” Kivera closes her eyes.

“You do, even if you don’t feel it. Something happened?” She catches on, she knew Kivera went to check on Angelique.

“G’raha. He saved so many lives, yet at the cost of..” She sighs trying not to let what is beyond her means get to her now.

“You did say it yourself, fate has other plans for him, and you have yet to really intervene with what is in motion.  As for feeling of where you belong. You belong here with us.” It takes Kivera a moment to think about it, she is still scared of getting close to this group more for the lives they lead. Any day she could be the one that has to claim them, she’d steal them to her realm first. 

Green eyes flicker a soft blue then settle to gold with a tinge of deep blue at the centers. Shuri sees this, thinking of ways to ease her, settling on petting through her hair the way she has seen Divinity does. Kivera accepts her affections and curls in closer to her. 

She doesn’t need everyone to understand her nature, just the ones she loves. Even if she must be harsh with a few, she hopes her actions can be forgiven by those she must remain distant with.

Kivera was in a light sleep when another person shows up. Ardbert sits next to Shuri and looks over the reaper strewn across her lap. Kivera has her face pressed to her abdomen close to the bump where she is able to detect life. She is half curled around Shuri protective. She herself was denied this life and ability to experience children. She can at least chase a dream of being a secondary parent where she is wanted as one.

“Such a fearsome one she is.” He says teasing, he sees an ear twitch in his direction. 

“She can be, not to me though.” Ardbert chances a touch along Kivera’s back, his hand drifting to her right wing, her black one. Hand smoothing through the feathers finding them softer than most silk he’s touched. One of the few times the reaper does not find his touch offensive.

“A summon came for her.” He says quietly, enough for Shuri to raise a little concern.

“From who?” Kivera turns her head, a yellow eye cracks open.

“Kiya.” Kivera closes her eye again with a sigh.

“I’ll see her when the time is right. I think I know what it is about.” Ardbert drifts his hand to her left wing but feels her shrug his hand away from it. Shuri feels her tense up and looks over to Ardbert shaking her head no. Fingers card through Kivera’s hair again to sooth her a bit.

Ardbert looks Kivera over, wondering what in her changed to make her bristle. She was still getting use to him, and he wanted to earn more of her own affection in the way she shows the others. He let’s it roll off of him, and lets Kivera have her space.

“You both should come down soon, for food and Estinien worries with you up here Shuri.” 

“We’ll come down soon.” Kivera confirms, and raises her gaze to Ardbert. A brief glimpse of purple tints her irises then back to green.

He leaves them be, and it isn’t much longer till they both get down, Kivera using her ability to fly to transport the auri down. Kivera finds Divinity after making sure Shuri is within her husband’s care. 

Divinity keeps her eyes closed as she takes over comforts on her soulbound lover. Remembering the time when Kivera did this for her. Ardbert approaches again, finding how Divinity seems more at ease with her leader resting on her now. 

“She doesn’t like her left messed with does she?” He keeps his voice low.

“It’s a painful reminder for her. What she use to be.” Divinity feels Kivera tense at hearing her talk about her. One of her hands rests on top of her head ressuring.

“She use to be of the heavens right?”

“She use to. She did show you her memories right?” Ardbert was shown them once, they were shown fast to where some of them were hard to make out, ones that were clearly painful to her.

“Aye, I was.” He rather the answers come from them about it, he was shown, but not told much.

“The white one is what remains of that time she spent in Caelum. They do wish to have her back.” Divinity feels a hand dig into her thigh and she ignores it.

“But she doesn’t want to go back.” Ardbert sees her bristle again.

“Correct. They threw her out like she was nothing. You understand that feeling right? What it means to have the height of glory then thrown out like you mean nothing. Name dragged through the dirt. That was her in that lifetime. All because she fell in love with a demon.” Ardbert sees Divinity swat Kivera’s head for biting her leg. Ardbert can see Kivera’s eyes a dark blue, a color he rarely sees.

Kivera’s ears flatten to her head, she was about to leave until she feels Divinity’s hand press at the middle of her back to stay.

“You showed him those memories. You know that they’re common memories in this house if you did. I know they’re painful, but he should hear the causes of why you choose your way now.” Divinity heals herself of the bite. She keeps a hand through her hair. The Libra spirit looks up towards Ardbert, he notes how both of her own eyes are gold in color. 

“If this is too much for her to reveal..”

“You’re bound to know. You know of Damien. You know her feelings surrounding him, in how he was lost to her.” He nods at her question.

“Good, what were your feelings when she showed you those memories?” Divinity holds Kivera still having her lay on her stomach with her face fully buried into her abdomen.

“Heartache. I felt like I was losing someone I loved. I too have shared a pain like that.” Divinity nods.

“Now be the one that deals the death to that loved one.” Ardbert recalls that one. Seeing Kivera take the life of Damien was hard for him, he couldn’t comprehend what ran through her or the thought if something like that came to him towards Shuri. 

“But forgive my way of asking, but what does that have to do with her not returning?” 

“Because Caelum offered her to return after his death. Before she spoke to Kronos. After she sent Vanth into the underworld. They offered her, her position back, after the love of her life was taken from her. As a way of saying “The source of your sin is gone, come back to us.” She was just grieving and they threw what she followed into her face. As if he was nothing but what held her down.” Kivera by this point had wrapped her arms around Divinity’s waist face fully buried into her stomach.

“So now... she denies it every chance...” Ardbert understands now. 

“She’s a fallen, but has the chance of redemption. Yet scorns it because of what they’ve done to her in the beginning. She loved Damien. Just as she loves the people here and strives hard to protect them. Whether you see her in action. She broke taboo for alot of you and yours recently. Because she ouch! Damn it Kivera!” Divinity grabs the reaper’s tail and pulls it to get her to quit biting her stomach. She felt her fangs dig in this time.

“Because she actually loves alot of you!” She finishes her sentence and glowers down at Kivera who glares back up through bright pink eyes. Ardbert’s first time seeing the color.

“What? Did I embarrass you? You felt the need to bite me over it?” Ardbert sees Divinity pull Kivera over and pin her down. The taller woman easily keeping her pinned as she kicks her feet out. He notes how she keeps her hands together and pinned above her head.

“Need any help with her?” Shuri pokes her head in at hearing all the commotion of Kivera being somewhat handled rough. She was sitting outside the room they were in listening in on the conversation. She had been shown personally and shared more intimate details to Kivera. She felt a swarm of emotions run through her at hearing how Divinity speaks of what she had lost and why she has no desire to return to the heavens.

“I think I could use your help if it isn’t straining on you at all.” Divinity takes both hands now and rubs at Kivera’s wrists. Shuri sees the reaper restrained in a way where she can dote on her. She grins at her as her hands land on her sides. Instead of rubbing them, she lays on top of Kivera pinning her to Divinity.

Ardbert takes the hint that any further conversation is over for now. He hears laughter follow the girls together, specially once the twins ran in and jumped on the women. 

Shuri glances at Kivera, seeing life back into her green eyes. Divinity takes a moment to inspect the bite she got on her stomach and heals it before anyone else sees them. She returns and eyes Kivera who is pinned under children and lovers now. Resigned to her fate. Freya taking up most of her right wing’s space while Lexan in her left wing. 

She is beside herself in all these faces showing her she belongs that she looks to Divinity who leans over her to let her bury her face into her chest and conceal her tears. Overwhelmed in her emotions at those who care so deeply for her.

“You belong here.” Shuri reminds Kivera, and lets her feel her emotions that she keeps suppressed. Estinien tugs Ardbert in with him, to assist the girls helping Shuri up and announcing that meals were ready.

Kivera lingers with Divinity, glancing up at her from her spot.

Divinity glances down giving her the same kind smile she has always given to her since the pyre.

“We’ll be in, in a few.” Divinity assures them, and cards her fingers through Kivera’s hair again.

“You are loved more than you know and want to be shown.” Divinity is at face level with Kivera who seeks her in a moment and shares a kiss with her. 

“Thank you... even though you didn’t have to tell Ardbert all of that.”

“At the rate you go, it would snow in Thanalan before you’d tell anyone.” She is shoved briefly and Kivera goes to join the others with Divinity in tow.

“You are worth it all.” Divinity murmurs under her breath.

[itsclydebitches]

RWBY Recaps: “Gravity”

Good lord, folks. Buckle your seat-belts because we’ve got a lot to get through this episode. I think this is my longest recap to date, so settle in.

Episode Eleven’s “Gravity” starts out simple enough, focusing on the two fights we’d set up during “Out in the Open.” First up, Ironwood vs. Watts. Overall this fight does a really excellent job of showcasing their different fighting styles. Right from the start Watts is pointing his gun forward to take a clear shot at Ironwood, whereas Ironwood points his backwards to use as a surge of momentum.

He’s going to do this frequently throughout the battle, constantly using his gun to maneuver in the air, slow falls, regain his balance, and change directions, a much more complicated series of choices than the one-off shots we see Ruby use with her sniper rifle. This is partly because Ironwood seems to have a much larger supply of bullets---some sort of energy/dust ammo---than Watts does. His steampunk-esque gun holds only nineteen bullets, requiring him to keep track throughout the fight. Which is always a fun trope but sorry, Watts, you can’t compare to the king.

Thus, with limited weaponry available to him, Watts is forced to get creative with the arena itself. We see him manipulating gravity, shooting up columns of water and fire, and making use of his own pathways between platforms, all in an effort to throw Ironwood off and catch up unawares. However, Ironwood is, frankly, the much better fighter. He was right last week to assume he could handle Watts even though he sent three off to tackle Tyrian. He’s able to recover much more quickly and learns from any mistakes, as evidenced by his ability to hit Watts dead on while in the air the second time he takes out the gravity. When they come together in hand-to-hand Ironwood easily dominates, no doubt thanks not just to his military training and huntsmen lifestyle, but also in large part to his prosthetics which I would assume grant him more speed and power. Throughout the course of the fight we see Watts consistently take more damage to his aura and he’s unable to sense when Ironwood is sneaking up on him. After that little maneuver, Watts (presumably) grows reckless and lets off his last three or four shots in a random barrage. All of them miss.

This emphasis on emotion continues when they land back onto the main stage with Watts shouting, “You never appreciated my genius, James! You just stood atop it and called yourself a giant.” Oh, did Ironwood actually do something horrendous in the past? Is there something juicy that would explain---though not excuse---Watts’ turn towards villainy? Nah. He quickly follows that up with, “You chose that fat imbecile over me!” referring to Pietro. So... nice one, Watts. Crazy arrogance, willful ignorance of Pietro’s own, clear genius (anyone who can create Penny is no slouch), as well as a bit of fat-shamming on top of it all. No sympathy from me.

This moment emphasizes how unhinged Watts is becoming though as the fight turns against him. Even when he manages to setup a head shot Ironwood reveals, “You’re smart, but you’re not the only one who can count,” referencing that Watt’s emotions got the better of him, leading to him wasting his last bullet before it could be of real use.

...except not. I’ve got to admit, I was very pleased when all of this---or at least this particular moment---was merely a plan to get Ironwood to let his guard down. Watts is way too smart a character to be done in by the “You got too emotional and that made you sloppy” trope. So kudos there (even if it remains to be seen whether that Pietro comment was really his motivation, or just another part of the plan). Instead, he uses Ironwood’s confidence in his victory to trap him with the rings that control the arena, essentially pinning Ironwood’s non-prosthetic arm through the energy shields he’s been using. We can immediately see that the parts that have touched Ironwood already have horribly burned the skin.

And that ends up being Watt’s downfall. Not stupidity on his own part, but his lack of understanding of Ironwood himself. He assumes that this truly is a trap for him, rather than another sacrifice. After all, what fool would ruin their one remaining arm to stop him? Watts himself wouldn’t. Don’t pull, he cautions Ironwood, not “unless you’re hoping to add more metal to that body of yours.” Watts goes so far as to turn his back on Ironwood who then makes the sacrifice we all knew he would. One burned, useless arm later and he’s free.

I would like everyone to keep this moment in mind. Namely the utter devastation of it. I’d go so far as to say it’s as bad at Yang losing her arm in Volume 3. Despite seeing it bandaged later, Watts at least thinks it will be a complete loss if Ironwood sacrifices it. He’ll need to “add more metal,” AKA replace his arm, so though he obviously still has it in the following scenes, we don’t know if it will ever be functional again. Just as important, Ironwood had to choose to do that to himself. That wasn’t a horrific, but ultimately clean cut done in a moment of surprise. That was a conscious decision, a slow pull through all that pain, and then having to finish your fight immediately afterward. It’s a very different kind of psychological trauma, no better or worse than having someone take your arm from you by force. Throughout this volume I’ve seen a lot of fans being critical not only of Ironwood’s main decisions, but just his overall attitude as well. Too strict, too stern, doesn’t smile enough, yells sometimes, etc. basically associating someone who isn’t all sunshine and smiles with someone who is “bad.” Ignoring for the moment that we can say the same thing about many of our group---notably Yang---I have little doubt that I’ll see similar posts after this episode. Writings in the vein of, “Ironwood is unhinged! I can’t believe he yelled and hit his desk like that!” So everyone just keep this moment in mind and ask yourself how calm you’d be if you’d sacrificed your arm like that all of half an hour ago. And then found Salem’s calling card on your desk. And then came to the realization that the allies you trusted have been lying to you from the start. And then Salem herself appears to mock you. And then your city is about to be overrun. Basic summary of the rest of the episode: holy shit. So yeah. If Yang is allowed to be angry and upset after losing her arm, or just angry in general like she is in the later half of “Gravity,” I think we owe it to Ironwood to let him be angry too. I have a lot of feelings about the utter insanity he’s been forced through with little to no support and if he wants to take all that out by hitting his desk once, by god I’d say that’s a good coping strategy given the circumstances. Both the writing and the fans tend to erase trauma once you’ve passed age 25. The girls have every right to be upset, to break, to not trust people because they’ve been through a few months of hardship, but Ozpin isn’t allowed the same after a couple thousand years of that. We’re going to see the same hypocrisy later in this episode---the group can be upset about lies but Ironwood is not---and I’m hoping (against hope) that the fandom doesn’t make that worse by sweeping this injury under the rug. It’s horrific and absolutely has a bearing on his inability to keep his cool with the group immediately afterwards. We’ve long passed Ironwood owing them endless reassurances and calm responses. 

Anyway, Ironwood still manages to finish the fight because his remaining arm is his robotic one, giving him the strength to easily drag and raise Watts into the air one-handed. He dangles him over the edge of the arena, announcing that he will “sacrifice whatever it takes to stop [Salem].” A clear bit of foreshadowing for his decision at the end of the episode. Watts responds that he hopes he does.

We then move to the Tyrian fight which, on the whole, I don’t think was done quite as well. Granted, there are a lot of enjoyable and badass moments. I like that Clover’s first act is to announce that Tyrian is under arrest, maintaining the law that Atlas (and Ironwood) works to uphold. It doesn’t matter that Tyrian is a crazy serial killer in league with an immortal sorceress hell-bent on destroying the world. Even crazy serial killers have rights and are given the option of surrendering, even when everyone present knows there’s exactly zero chance of that happening. It’s the principal of the thing and the ability to say, “We gave him a chance.” In a world overrun with inequality, this is a small but important attempt to level the field. If you do something wrong you face legal action and those rights are announced to you. Same for Tyrian. Same for Team RWBY. But we’ll get to that.

For now, we see Qrow attack first and like back in Volume Four he and Tyrian are pretty evenly matched. The tide doesn’t turn until Robyn and Clover come into play. Throughout this exchange we see a lot of cool combos among the three of them. Tyrian will block an incoming arrow with his tail only for Clover to snag it with his hook. Robyn can get another arrow to perfectly bounce off the walls and then Qrow’s scythe, hitting Tyrian dead on. Clover can dive between Tyrian’s legs, giving Qrow the opening he needs to attack. It is, as said, pretty badass... almost a little too badass. Personally, I would have appreciated them messing up once or twice. They’re all professionals, yes, but Qrow and Clover have only had one fight together. Robyn, meanwhile, wasn’t even allied with them until an hour ago. This is a situation where skills shouldn’t really trump, “We’re three very distinct people who don’t know each other’s fighting styles well, trying to attack one guy in very close quarters.” There should have been some screw-ups. Especially when we take semblances into account. What, are we supposed to assume here that Clover’s semblance just conveniently overrides Qrow’s? That no mistakes---let alone anything bad---will happen in this fight despite the fact that it’s an extreme parallel to Volume Four? That whole battle emphasized, “Don’t come closer!” because when people fight near Qrow bad shit happens. Now, he fights with two other people in a narrow alleyway and there’s not a single repercussion. Based on their travels looking for the geist, I don’t buy that Qrow’s semblance is just conveniently inactive while near Clover. Even if I did... that’s not a very good writing decision. To me, it’s just more evidence that Rooster Teeth doesn’t understand its own rules/doesn’t know what to do with an ability like Qrow’s. It causes problems only when they explicitly want it to. Then, miraculously, it’s no longer in effect.

Still, we’ll acknowledge that RWBY had a lot else it wanted to accomplish in this episode, so the need to power through this fight is somewhat justified. I personally would have had the entirety of this episode be the two battles---I was shocked when both ended just eight minutes in---but I’m obviously not the one writing the show. Thus, instead of an episode devoted to both the action and the emotion of confronting our two main villains this volume, Tyrian loses his cool after getting punched in the gut, manages to catch Robyn’s arrow in his teeth... 

But it’s a bomb. 

Down he goes. Fight’s done.

Which leads us into the second half of the episode. I want to preface this with a short acknowledgment before we go any further.

Did these last ten minutes give me what I’ve been looking for since the beginning of Volume Six? No. It’s easy to assume it did because all the pieces are there. Ironwood is finally angry about the secret keeping. The Ace Ops are criticizing the group left and right. Surely this is the “The group is capable of making mistakes and they should be called out for it!” that I wanted, right? Not really. For the simple reason that there is a massive difference between:

A story that acknowledges mistakes as mistakes. The characters either grow from this lesson or dig in their heels and are painted as being in the wrong for that decision.

and

A story that takes what the audience (me) perceives as mistakes and frames them as justified choices. The characters do not grow because they’re 100% sure they’re in the right and those who would criticize them are painted as in the wrong. 

“Gravity” is so far into that second option I don’t think the series can come back from it. Does the group face criticism? Yes, but every single time the writing insists that it’s undeserved criticism. It paints the group as the underdogs facing unfair odds, rather than equals---with all the responsibility that comes with that---facing criticism that they need to own up to. Absolutely nothing in this second half implies that the group is going to learn from their mistakes because they, and the writing, still insists that they weren’t mistakes. Which is precisely what we’ve gotten before. Cordovin might criticism them, but Cordovin is in the wrong. Winter might criticism them, but Winter is in the wrong. Every time a character goes, “Hey, you shouldn’t have done this” the group responds with, “Yes we should have!” and the story backs them up. Yes, you should have attacked Argus. Yes, you should have stolen an airship. Yes, you should have lied to Ironwood and spilled the secret to Robyn. Yes, yes, yes. That’s the takeaway every single time. The group is never in the wrong. Others just think they are and those others are painted as cruel, militaristic, unhinged characters.

It’s not at all what I was looking for. Just more of the same.

So that’s the preface. In terms of what we actually get, Ironwood returns to his office with his arm bandaged and in a sling, carrying Watts’ bag, only to drop it when he sees the queen piece on his desk. He calls Winter asking, “Was anyone caught entering the school grounds while I was away?” and when she says no Ironwood has her race off to the Winter Maiden, unknowingly leading Cinder there in the process. “Now show me where you’ve been hiding her.”

We then cut to the group where the trouble begins. They’re not just curious about why Ironwood is recalling them with Mantle still in need of evacuation, they’re actively questioning it. This is the attitude I simply don’t understand. The group acts as if Ironwood is deliberately screwing everyone over when they know better. This is no longer the beginning of the volume where they thought he was some horrific dictator hell bent on destroying his own Kingdom. This is just an hour or so after, “We should tell Ironwood!” and the happy-go-lucky ‘We trust him now’ moment. Even less time after Ruby stared up at him in awe with, “He’s doing it.” They had reason to trust him before they even made it to Atlas. They were given even more reasons in the form of Ironwood sharing his secrets, early licenses, and being allowed to work on the tower. They then still waited until Ironwood was doing everything they wanted before giving him some of that trust back... but the moment he stops doing precisely what they want---we want to keep evacuating Mantle---he’s deemed suspicious again. 

I mean seriously, is the group that dense? Are they incapable of thinking to themselves, “Wow, something must have happened if Ironwood is recalling us before evacuations are complete,” which is precisely the case. The scene tries to frame it as “Group Good” and “Ace Ops Blinding Obeying Orders Bad” but that aspect doesn’t even come into play. There’s nothing blind about it. It simply takes two seconds of critical thinking skills to realize that something really awful must have happened back at the Academy that trumps what you’re doing in Mantle. This is what I mean by the writing being biased. Before we even reach the fight in Ironwood’s office it’s trying to paint him as potentially cruel, potentially suspicious, potentially abandoning his people, look how worried our heroes are about this secret decision he’s made... when all that requires ignoring some really basic deduction in order to reach those assumptions. Remember that intelligence is a plot device in RWBY. If they want Ironwood forced to spill his secrets, he’ll randomly start talking about them in front of his enemies. If they want Ironwood painted as the villain, the group will randomly be incapable of realizing that maybe, just maybe, something went wrong on the home front and you’re needed there.

Things just get so much worse from then on. The group splits with JNR going off to find Oscar and, admittedly, I was shocked we got that at all. I mean yeah, it’s setup for the final reveal at the end of the episode, but the fact that anyone remembered Oscar was missing---let alone happily went off to find him---was still a surprise. So only Team RWBY heads back to Ironwood’s office where they find him (rightfully) panicking over the queen on his desk. Weiss tries to baby him, acting like he’s freaking out over nothing, when all these characters should recall precisely what Ironwood himself points out: the last time we saw this symbol it was a message that Beacon had fallen. He’s not paranoid here. He’s entirely justified in his panic. Ironwood likewise points out that they may have been duped into bringing thousands of people into Atlas as easy targets and Vine agrees, setting up that the Ace Ops are on Team Ironwood throughout the course of this conversation. Not out of blind loyalty, but because he’s right. That is a concern. That may be the plan. We do need to try and do something about that. Team RWBY, however, isn’t convinced.

That is, until Ruby realizes that the chess piece is made of black glass. Which means Cinder left it. Normally I’d congratulate her on that deduction---it is the one smart move we see Ruby pull this whole episode---but I just hate what follows. Namely that Ruby and Ruby alone controls her team’s opinions on a situation. Again. We saw it back in the snow, then again when Blake announced in the elevator that they’d do whatever she wanted. Team RWBY is the one who blindly follows their leader, not the Ace Ops, the only exception being Blake and Yang going rogue in regards to Robyn, but we see that hive-mind mindset here again. Ironwood brings up a good point? Nothing. Ace Ops support that point with more logic? Nothing. Ruby supports it? Oh, suddenly Weiss and Blake are taking this seriously. Suddenly Yang is fired up and ready to do whatever is necessary. Ruby controls the room. It’s only when she’s on board that her teammates decide this is worth getting riled up about.

Which, as I’ve said before, is a horrible way to write a diverse group. Especially when the writing is trying to paint the Ace Ops as mindless soldiers. For all their claims that they just have to follow orders, they’re the only ones parsing through this situation and coming to their own conclusions. It’s just that their conclusions do end up aligning with Ironwood’s which is the “bad” take in this scene. Team RWBY, however, waits until their leader makes a decision and then simply rides her cloak tails. The day that Blake, Yang, or Weiss legitimately disagree with Ruby---not a token “Are you sure we should keep secrets from Ironwood? We’re not actually challenging this. Just checking in”---is the day the writing will disagree with her. AKA, no time soon.

Blake tries to give some bland reassurance about them all being with Ironwood to which he responds, “Are you with me? How did Robyn know about the global communications tower?” Thank you! Thank you for giving us Ironwood’s characterization back and acknowledging that he has no reason to buy their generic ‘Got your back’ statements when everything they’ve done this volume has proven otherwise. They don’t support Ironwood, only themselves and their own teams. The minute he does something they don’t like he’s chucked under the bus. Too bad the writing doesn’t acknowledge any of this and instead continually paints the group as being justified in their decisions. It’s that hypocrisy again. When the group yells at Ozpin for keeping secrets we’re supposed to be on their side. When the Ace Ops yell at the group for keeping secrets we’re... still supposed to be on their side.

Weiss tries to diffuse the situation with “None of this matters right now!” which is real rich when they were just complaining about Ironwood not telling them why they were called back. They get to worry over that, but Ironwood isn’t allowed to worry about them outright betraying him? “Loyalty always matters!” he shouts back and he’s right. Why should Ironwood trust them to have his back in this crucial moment when they’ve never had it before? I’m already seeing more of this hypocrisy among the fandom. When Ozpin kept secrets and told lies the group was given a whole volume to be pissed about that and fans still, to this very day, insist that it hasn’t been enough time for them to get over it, to regain even a portion of that trust. But now that Ironwood has been lied to and betrayed in the same manner? People are annoyed that he’s not just shrugging it off. How dare you not get over in thirty seconds what our heroes got weeks to work through. His inability to just suck it up, as it were, is used to make him seem irrational here. I don’t see anyone, characters or fans alike, acknowledging that his anger is as righteous as the group’s was out in the snow. That there is the disconnect.

Of course, something has to break the tension. Drawn by all the fury and fear, a grimm pops out of Watts’ bag. A fail-safe for if he was defeated and captured. Salem immediately takes control of the grimm and kills it, using its form to appear before them. She reveals that it doesn’t matter that her men were captured. They were just there to “set the stage,” which they’ve done. Still doesn’t explain the random Penny side plot to my mind (seriously, why did the story bother to resurrect her when she has done nothing plot-wise or emotionally?), but whatever. Much more importantly, the stage is set for Salem herself. She’s approaching with the grimm army we saw her amassing which is... iffy.

First off, why? Why after a thousand years has she suddenly changed her MO from keeping to the sidelines to a full-on attack? Again, what’s the catalyst for that massive change? We don’t know. Meanwhile, from a writing perspective, I’m hesitant about having our Big Bad thrown into the mix before the finale. We know there are plenty of volumes left in this series, which automatically undermines any battle they might have with Salem. Will they win?? Of course not! Because RWBY isn’t over yet. Granted, this could all just be a ruse of some sort. Maybe Salem just wants them to think she’s approaching with an army, which would be much more up her alley in terms of long-distance manipulation. But if not... seriously, what’s the point of that?

Here’s hoping it’s a bluff.

Speaking of manipulation, we get a fantastically creepy moment where Salem tells Ironwood to “simply accept the futility of your situation” while smiling like a kind mother. That’s the Salem who is truly dangerous. Ironwood reaffirms that he won’t give up the relics and Ruby pips up with, “We don’t have to kill you to stop you.”

Hey wait. I’m gonna give you all another graphic.

This is Ozpin’s stance! This is his plan! His version of hope! We spent all of Volume Six having the cast beat on him for, “Omg Salem is immortal?!” and with the exception of Nora’s comment, no discussion of this in Volume Seven... but now suddenly Ruby is making this announcement? The group came to this revelation sometime off screen which we a) don’t get to see and b) once again created no scenario in the form of, “Wow! Ozpin was right all along! Maybe we should go talk to him...”

I’m just... wow. The number of times the writing takes what the group and the adults do, the exact same perspectives and decisions, and twists it so that the group comes out looking like heroes and the adults look like misguided, unhinged fools who need to be put in their place... I’m really over it at this point. And by extension the group themselves. Their characterizations have been so badly mangled at this point I legitimately don’t like them as people. I don’t care if they say they want to protect Mantle, or if they say they’ll support Ironwood, or if they say they’re unsure about their choices. All their actions claim otherwise.

Rather than grappling with the huge revelation that the group is apparently no longer obsessed with Salem’s immortality (or rather that Ruby isn’t. The rest of the group doesn’t actually matter. As established, they sync up with her beliefs the second she announces them), we return to Summer Rose. Salem goes, “Your mother said those words to me” and Ruby... loses it? What? I would have been 100% on board with this if we’d gotten it last Volume because then we saw Ruby losing her cool periodically. The smashed alcohol bottles. Chucking her scroll. Screaming at Qrow. That was all building to something. But then we had a year and roughly twelve episodes of normality. Ruby jumps into her fight with Cordovin and has been fine ever since. Hell, she’s been bubbly and confident, goofing off with Penny in one episode, then giving strong orders to her team in another. The one time we see her falter was in her conversation with Qrow and he reassured her completely that she was both doing the right thing and in no way comparable to Ozpin. Now, suddenly, one line from Salem and Ruby collapses? Full on incapacitated? I could buy the crying while still standing strong, I could buy a collapse if we’d kept her characterization going from Volume Six, but this kind of reaction in this context just felt so extreme. Doesn’t help that I really wasn’t sold on the voice acting here. Those cries sound less like devastated sobs and more like weird hiccups. Not to rag on Lindsay. On the whole I think she does a really excellent job as Ruby, it’s just this particular moment didn’t read right to me. I didn’t feel Ruby’s supposed grief here.

So that was... a lot for one line from Salem in a volume of otherwise confident and cool-headed Ruby. We also don’t see it amounting to anything, as per usual with RWBY’s writing. Ruby isn’t out of commission for the rest of the conversation or anything. She pops right back up after a second in Yang’s lap, just as confident and go-getting as before. There was no lead up to this and there are no consequences for the breakdown. Rooster Teeth honestly seems to think they can just chuck random things into the story---Ruby needs to show emotion at some point!---and then just leave it at that, entirely disconnected from everything else around it. Would we have known that Ruby just had her first breakdown of the series a minute later while once again betraying Ironwood? Nope.

Finally, this scene shows us again that the Argus battle was a bunch of nonsense. Ruby’s eyes nearly activate when she’s grieving for her mother, imagining---or perhaps seeing via Salem?---a sad Summer, not a smiling one. Just like her eyes activated while seeing Pyrrha die. Just like they activated when Blake was nearly killed by the Apathy. They activate now while thinking about her mother’s death. The montage of happy moments in lieu of the sad ones not working last volume was entirely out of place.

Salem finally leaves. Now everyone is panicking about this army. Elm points out that they’ll know if anything approaches. Vine checks and realizes that Watts took out their perimeter. Either that or Salem has already destroyed everyone and everything out there. It’s impossible to know. During all this Blake asks if the Amity tower is actually finished and we get more nonsense about how Ironwood is evil for telling a lie, but the group is always justified in telling theirs. The writing really tried to compare Ironwood telling Mantle---who I guarantee 100% does not care about whether a communications tower is finished while they’re getting attacked by grimm---a lie to lure out one of their biggest threats to Blake and Yang going behind Ironwood’s back to tell a potentially non-trustworthy outlaw about said tower, risking that the information would fall into the wrong hands and doom the project before it could be completed either way. Those are not in any way comparable situations, yet the writing really has Weiss going, “General Ironwood?” in a ‘How could you betray us like that?’ tone while Yang continues to look pissed.

And as if they didn’t know! How is this a personal betrayal? They were all helping to build that tower. Surely they’d know it it was that close to being done. Again, critical thinking skills, people. Anyone with two brain cells and their insider information should have looked at Ironwood’s announcement and gone, “Oh, that must be a bluff. Just a few days ago we were arguing about whether to continue taking resources from Mantle. No way is Amity ready. He’s going after Watts. Who is indeed the much bigger threat. Considering that he has control over the entirety of our technology and there’s literally no downside to telling Mantle about a finished tower when they’re getting devoured by grimm.” This is another, “But lying is wrong!” in the face of “But lying kept us alive...?” 

Does everyone get what I’m saying here? How RWBY takes these situations and tries to paint them in an absolutely ridiculous light, expecting the audience to blindly accept this perspective despite everything else they’ve seen for themselves? Like, two episodes ago? I swear I’ve never encountered writing that treats its audience this badly. Scene after scene relies heavily on the viewer having no ability to think for themselves. Just accept that Ironwood is a horrible person for lying about the tower even though there are no repercussions for that and we JUST watched him defeating Watts as a result. Like, five minutes ago. That just happened. In this episode. 

Ironwood then drops the bomb that Winter has gone off to claim the Maiden power. Interesting development. I wonder what that means exactly. Is she just going to lock herself away until the Maiden dies naturally? Do they have her on some sort of life support and is there an agreement to pull the plug if necessary? Are they going to use a machine similar to the one Pyrrha was in and try to force the change early? Or is this just a misleading comment and Winter is merely off to protect the Maiden, no intention of taking the power now? Who knows. We’ll have to wait until next episode to find out.

Ironwood likewise announces that the staff and the lamp need to be locked away now that they’re compromised, even though they’ve been compromised since they first saw Tyrian in Mantle. Insert another [this scenario is so stupid and contrived] explanation here. It’s made worse by Ruby’s childish “You said we could keep it.” Excuse me? What, did you think the lamp was your personal property now forever and always? Is Ruby really sitting there arguing that something Ironwood told her weeks ago trumps the obvious logic of putting the relic where it’s somewhere safe? That’s the characterization we’re going for, a leader who cares more about, ‘But you said we could have it!’ over the fate of the world? What even is this? The fact that Ironwood has to explain to them that the situation has changed just reinforces the group’s overall attitude. That is, one of arrogance and importance. They literally need to be told why putting the relic in a nearly impenetrable vault is better than letting them have it just because they want it. Plus, you know, they lied about the lamp from the start. So there’s that too.

Finally, Ironwood reveals that Amity was originally a plan of Ozpin’s but he didn’t push it far enough. Instead, he intends to use the staff to lift all of Atlas instead, hopefully taking two relics and a Maiden far out of Salem’s reach. Ruby wants to use the tower for its designed purpose instead, which is only a valid option in her mind because the writing was stupid last week. If there had actually been any logic there---if people had been allowed to react naturally and in a variety of ways to the Salem announcement, rather than a super convenient “Yeah! Let’s all work together!” across an entire, panicking city---she wouldn’t be quite so eager to tell the whole world. But we all know at this point that logic bends to the protagonists’ whims, so Ruby wants that same perfect ending across all of Remnant. She stands her ground, as does her team. Obviously.

Meanwhile, the Ace Ops aren’t just following Ironwood’s orders like the writing wants us to think via Harriet’s earlier comment. Rather, they’re each thinking through the situation for themselves and making very good points. If Salem has taken out our perimeter than we know our tech and people don’t stand a chance against this army. We just finished up the fight in Mantle and none of us are in a position to start another. Notably, Harriet brings this up, the one whose aura took a massive hit while nearly getting crushed underfoot. Vine points out that sometimes you have to lose a battle to win the war, but Team RWBY, to be blunt, simply doesn’t care.

I’ll be blunt myself here too: I don’t have an easy solution to this particular scenario. I don’t know what the “right” or the “wrong” choice is. Weighing starting a fight with VERY high stakes you’ll lose against abandoning the people of Mantle is just a straight up horrific decision. Like so much of what Ozpin faced, there is no clear-cut, good answer here. Do you stand by the people and risk the world, or work to save the world and doom the people? I don’t know and I do commend Rooster Teeth for writing a difficult choice... just not in giving each side the weight it deserves. Because as said, we’re meant to root for Team RWBY, always. Theirs is presented as the “right” choice every time, despite the fact that, as established, this is far from a black and white decision.

What frustrates me the most is when faced with all of these logical and very important considerations (we might not have backup, we’re in no position to fight, if Salem gets the relics and another Maiden the world is screwed) the group won’t even acknowledge these things. They’re so set in their own perspective they won’t even give these HUGE concerns the time of day. Rather, Yang shoots back, “You can’t just back down from a fight!”

That’s it. That’s the group’s problem in a single line.

This is what got Pyrrha killed.

It’s something the group should remember. She also insisted on fighting when she should have retreated and, since this was back during the days when characters actually faced consequences for their actions, it cost Pyrrha her life. Granted, going after Cinder was a truly useless endeavor. Pyrrha achieved nothing with her sacrifice. Here, Team RWBY hopes to save the people of Mantle, adding a clear justification for their insistence on fighting... but this is nevertheless indicative of that larger “punch it until it stops moving” mindset. It’s not that they decide to fight instead of retreating that’s the problem, it’s that to their mind fighting is the only option. Ever. This is what led to them attacking Cordovin and destroying Argus’ mech, drawing a massive grimm in the process. When faced with the option of backing down, Team RWBY doesn’t consider that an option at all. Which is heroic when up against an actual enemy, far less so when you’re facing an ally and the choice to fight has serious repercussions attached to it. Hell, the group doesn’t even consider compromises. They could have easily acknowledged that collecting the relics, the Maiden, and getting the staff to work on Atlas will take time. You do that while we focus on evacuating the rest of Mantle to the city. But no, even the concept of a compromise simply isn’t possible. You just always fight. Straight up. Anyone who suggests anything less isn’t a true huntsmen. “We’re loyal to the people!” Ruby shouts, as if “the people” doesn’t also include the rest of the world that Ironwood is trying to save and that they’re endangering by keeping the relics and Maiden within Salem’s reach. 

That is one messed up perspective to tout in a story infused with the complex and the morally gray.

The real kicker though? Ruby’s ‘My way or the highway’ attitude obliterates a solution that fell straight into her lap. Jaune calls and says straight out that they have another situation. If Ruby had listened to her teammate for just three seconds they all would have learned about Oscar, thereby undermining Ironwood’s plan. He can’t keep the lamp safe if he doesn’t know where it is. You look for it while, again, we evacuate Mantle. Then we take everything out of Salem’s reach. Win-win. Instead, Ruby blasts her way through the situation. Literally, dodging Ironwood and hiding behind his desk shouting a highly bias version of his plan in the hopes of getting everyone on her side. And it works. 

Because those like Clover don’t get to hear any of that context. Like how the perimeter is gone, there’s an army potentially coming, no one is in a position to fight, we’ve already lost a relic... they just here a Ruby’s version of events that paints Ironwood as the callous man Robyn thought he was---oh my god he’s abandoning Mantle for no good reason!---and people will react accordingly. Ruby likewise doesn’t care that shouting such information over all channels does things like, say, clue Tyrian into their plan. She just wants to do things her way, right now. Pausing to think (because thinking isn’t fighting) simply doesn’t happen.

I used to adore Ruby as a hero. Someone who was intrinsically good, hopeful, and wickedly clever in her ability to come out on top. Now she’s stubborn, arrogant, at times cruel, and charges in headfirst like her sister, refusing to consider any perspective other than her own. And her team endlessly supports that. The writing endlessly supports that. This isn’t our hero working through her flaws, but rather a flawed character that the writing refuses to acknowledge is flawed. When Ruby flies behind Ironwood’s desk the music rises triumphantly, just like it did when she attacked Cordovin’s mech. When Ironwood announces that they’re under arrest, Ruby spits back, “We won’t just let you take us” and we’re supposed to cheer.

Which brings us back to the question of whether the group really faced consequences here. Let me give you all a random, non-RWBY example of two scenes. Scenario One:

Parent: You punched her?

Teen: She insulted me!

Parent: I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you were justified in attacking her.

Teen: Oh, I was.

Parent: Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t, but you can’t solve all your problems that way.

Teen: I... I know that, okay. Back off. I just get so angry...

Parent: I know. We’re going to work on that. You’re grounded this weekend. We can discuss this more then.

Teen: [sighs] Fine.

vs. Scenario Two:

Parent: You punched her?

Teen: She insulted me!

Parent: I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you were justified in attacking her.

Teen: Oh, I was.

Parent: Maybe you were, maybe you weren’t, but you can’t solve all your problems that way.

Teen: Screw you! It worked didn’t it? I think a good punch goes a long way.

Parent: That’s not... okay look. You’re grounded this weekend so---

Teen: Like hell I am. [Proceeds to run off]

Teen: [Later to friend] ---and then she tried to ground me? Can you believe that?

Friend: Holy shit what an asshole.

If we put aside my own iffy dialogue for the moment, Scenario One acknowledges the complexity of the situation while likewise pointing out that the teen didn’t handle herself well. RWBY has achieved that here: the ethics of this scenario are acknowledged as complicated, but the group did things they shouldn’t have, as evidence by Ironwood’s anger and the Ace Ops’ criticism. However, Scenario One goes on to let the teen acknowledge that mistake, thereby validating it in the first place. A consequence is set, grounding, and they accept that, thereby further validating that their behavior needs work. They accept the consequence because both they and the writing acknowledge that the consequence is deserved. It takes what was previously two subjective stances---they say I’m wrong, I say I’m right---and encourages the audience to find the middle ground. Neither was totally wrong or right. The teen might be justified in some respects, but still made mistakes in others. She needs to improve. 

RWBY, however, steers firmly into Scenario Two wherein the teen (Team RWBY) insists points blank that they never made mistakes in the first place, thereby encouraging the audience to question whether Ironwood and the Ace Ops (the parent) is right to be calling them out at all. We see no humility or guilt, only confidence. Ruby shouting “No!” at Cordovin when she’s told to surrender. Yang keeping silent after admitting that she and Blake told Robyn, not bothering to apologize or admit that this might have been a breech of trust. They challenge the validity of the claim that mistakes were made and by virtue of being protagonists encourage the audience to challenge it too. Finally, we see them reject the consequence because they will not admit that it’s deserved. The teen will not accept a grounding. Ruby: “We won’t just let you take us.” We’re then told by others that this rejection was warranted. The friend reinforces the view that the teen was right to run because that punishment is undeserved. The message is, “You never did anything wrong in the first place.” The plot of RWBY likewise reinforces the view that resisting Cordovin’s arrest was right by having her randomly let the group go. The consequence is replaced with a reward and, presumably, we’ll have a similar situation wherein the group either defeats the Ace Ops or is released by them. The consequences never take hold because the writing doesn’t think there should be consequences in the first place. Team RWBY isn’t going to be arrested here. They’re certainly not acknowledging that on some level they deserve to be. We didn’t see that humility while they were cuffed on the airship---that most basic acknowledgement of, “Did we make some mistakes? Could we have done something better? Is Ironwood right to be this mad?”---and there’s none of it now here, either. The tone is pure, “How dare you try and arrest us? We’re the good guys here!” 

This remains as pro-protagonist as it has been the last two volumes. There are no consequences, only another hurdle for the group to overcome, painted as heroes for doing so. It’s Team RWBY vs. The Ace Ops and there’s no confusion about who we’re supposed to be rooting for. The Ace Ops because the group should rightly be stopped from hindering Ironwood’s attempts to keep the relics and a Maiden out of Salem’s hands, for their own lies and secret keeping that endangered them all this volume? Nope. It’s Team RWBY as the presumed heroes, facing off against soldiers who (supposedly) prioritize orders over what’s “right.” 

And yeah, Oscar is gone. There are a number of dismantled robots and blaster fire in the room where Neo presumably took him. So unless they do a flashback we don’t get to see if/how Ozpin reacted to this initial attack. I hope they do provide a flashback because otherwise that’s another crucial scene of Oscar’s that happened off screen...

Can’t wait to see what else we’ll end up with next week! Until then, 💜

[infinite-inferno]

Who Cares?

Fandom: Jacksepticeye

Characters: Chase Brody, Doctor Henrik von Schneeplestein, Marvin the Magnificent, Jackieboy Man, Jameson Jackson, Antisepticeye

Content warning: a lot of mentions of depression, addiction, alcoholism, suicide mentions, suicidal thoughts

If I wasn’t on mobile I’d use the zalgo text for anti so instead it’s bolded

[[MORE]]

As soon as Chase closed the door to his bedroom he flopped onto the bed, his smiling and laughing expression he wore seconds ago with his family immediately replaced by a somber one. He took long, deep breaths, having a staring contest with the ceiling (it of course won). After... well he couldn’t tell how long he laid like that - time seemed to slow and drag on forever but also go way too fast - he spoke so softly to himself that he barely heard himself speak. “Am I really depressed? Or is it just that I’m reminding myself that I’m supposed to be sad? I was just out there with everyone for hours and wasn’t sad at all. Am I just faking it?” A lone tear escaped from his eye and he didn’t bother to wipe it away.

He heard his phone vibrate, but didn’t bother to check it. The only person that would be calling him is his therapist’s office, attempting to confirm a meeting he already planned on skipping. He went to one to humor Jackie, and of course he had to schedule another visit, but the whole time he knew that he wasn’t going back. He would just be wasting his therapists time, and taking up space for people who really needed therapy.

His room wasn’t far from the room where all the other egos were still gathered - he told the others that he was going to his room to plan the next bro average video (which he really should be doing anyway) - and he could faintly hear some conversations. From what he could piece together, they started playing Cards Against Humanity and somehow Jameson was winning, even though he didn’t understand most of the cards. He could tell that they were having a lot of fun - a lot of fun without him.

“Would anyone even care if I-“ he spoke, again, barely audible (he wondered if he even vocalized the words, or if they halted in his head). He had to stop himself short, not daring to finish the thought. “Chase you idiot, you already tried to do it and you know what outcomes you would get. Doc would blame himself if he couldn’t save you, Marvin would lock himself away in his room and refuse to come out, Jackie would take out all his emotions on fighting villains that were unbeatable, at least in his headspace, and Jamie would...” he trailed off, biting his lip. “That’s right... he wasn’t even here when I did it...” Chase blinked and violently shook his head. “PMA Chase... PMA... PMA... PM- ya know they can shove that up their arse. I need a fucking drink is what I need not some positivity bullshit,” he grumbled, going back to further examine his closet. There had to be something...

Huffing, he picked up a pair of shoes, put his hat back on his head, and wiped any evidence of tears off his face before walking out of his room. He took a deep breath right before he got to the room where all the egos were gathered - he was right about his guesses as to their activity - and strode to the door. Jackie looked up from the game as Chase walked past to get his coat. “Hey Chase, what’s up? Where’re ya going?” He sensed something off about him (but it could’ve just been paranoia) and needed to make sure nothing happened to any of his brothers.

Chase blinked. He didn’t expect any of them to notice and now all of them were staring at him and- ‘deep breaths’ he thought to himself. “I’m just... going for a walk. I’m stuck on trying to find a new idea and... need to clear my head.”

If Jackie still had his doubts, he kept them to himself. “You have your phone on you right?”

Chase held up his phone as evidence, giving a “yup” in response. With that, he walked out the front door. “Of fucking course it’s raining,” he muttered, heading towards one of the bars in town. He knew better than to try any of the ones close to the house, as they knew him and wouldn’t contribute to his addiction. Finally, he ended up at one that he didn’t even know existed, and figured it was worth a shot. He walked up to the bar and sat on the stool, surveying his options, pupils dilating by simply looking at the bottles. He told the bartender to “keep em coming until I’m so plastered I’m falling off the chair.”

The bartender eyed him, as it was 4:30 pm on a Tuesday, but didn’t question it, besides offering a “rough day?”

Chase nodded to that, “I guess you could call it that.”

The bartender handed him his drink. “If you want to just drink your cares away, go ahead. But if you want an ear then I’ll be here.”

Chase took a long swig, then registered what the bartender was saying, growling slightly. “I don’t need fucking therapy.” He finished his drink and felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

Baby Bean: “Hello Chase, it’s Jameson. Please do let us know when you will be returning. Marvin wants to know when he should begin making dinner, as he does not want your food to get cold, although given his history, you might be better off eating while you are out! 😆 I also should tell you that, while I do not know for certain, I think that some of the others are fearing that you are out getting bent, but if you say you’re just going for a walk, then I believe you! ☺️💚 Have a swell rest of your stroll!”

Chase sighed, grabbing the phone with his other hand. ‘What do I even say to this?’

“uh idk when i’ll be back. tell marv not to worry about me and not to burn the place down. also ty jj it means a lot that u trust me like that. i just wish the others would too” he deleted the last sentence, not wanting his brothers to feel guilty over not trusting him, especially when they had every right to be doubtful - considering he was actually at a bar. It also hurt to see that Jameson trusted him, because that meant he was betraying his trust, and he drank another glass at the thought.

About 20 minutes later, he felt his phone vibrate again. Judging by how it was many texts all at once, he assumed it was Marvin before he even pulled out his phone.

Magic Man: “Hey”

Magic Man: “I’m making dinner rn”

Magic Man: “It’s mac and cheese and whatever frozen chicken we have”

Magic Man: “Jamie said u were taking a longer walk but like it’s raining out and I don’t want u to get sick”

Magic Man: “Plz respond Chase”

Magic Man: “U there?”

“yo chill marv”

“i stepped inside a store to get out of the rain”

Magic Man: “Do u want one of us to pick u up??”

Magic Man: “If u lmk wya I can teleport to u”

Magic Man: “Or I’m sure Hen or Jackie would drive to get u if u just wanted to drive back”

Magic Man: “Ik how u feel abt teleporting”

Chase bit his lip before downing another glass. He forgot exactly what he was drinking, but it was alcohol and that’s all he cared about. He didn’t want to tell them that he was at a bar, not even thinking about how anyone could see or smell that he was drunk from a block away. He got another drink and almost forgot to respond before another message came through.

Magic Man: “Chase?”

Magic Man: “Plz just tell me where u r so we can pick u up”

“what so u can make fun of me??? nope i’ll b home later. i’m gonna stay here a bit longer then WALK home”

Chase put his phone away, not wanting to see Marvin’s response and just wanting to see more alcohol in his hands.

It was probably about an hour later when the bartender finally cut him off. He said that he was told to stop him when he looked like he was going to fall out of the chair and so the bartender wasn’t going to let him have any more. Plus his boss would be pissed if he let Chase leave any more intoxicated than he already was.

Chase stormed out of the bar and back into the rain before realizing he had no idea where we was. He looked around and tried to find something familiar but came up with absolutely nothing. He started walking in one direction, but it felt wrong, so he started in the opposite direction, which also felt wrong. So, he did what anyone else in his situation would do - he cried in the rain on the sidewalk of a basically empty street. After he felt he cried all he could, he looked at his notifications.

Baby Bean: 2 unread messages

Ze Best Doctah: 1 unread message

Magic Man: 13 unread messages, 2 missed calls

Spider-Man 2.0: 7 unread messages, 5 missed calls

Turtle: 1 unread message

“Shit.” Chase mumbled, scanning through the messages.

Baby Bean: “Hello Chase, Jameson again! 😊 You haven’t responded to anyone and we are all very worried about you. I’m hoping that your cellular device simply ran out of charge, but Jackie is informing me that when he tries to call you it would not ring as long as it is if your device has run out of battery.”

Baby Bean: “Chase, it’s Jameson. Where are you? I am getting increasingly worried for your safety, as is everyone else. Please respond to one of us.”

Ze Best Doctah: “Chase are you alright? You are scaring all of us. Do you need help? Or a ride? Marvin said you would not tell him where you were. I am praying you are not at a bar but right now I don’t know what to think. I trusted you would be smart and safe but now I’m not sure if you were either. Please call one of us when you see this.”

Magic Man: “Chase y do u think I would make fun of u?”

Magic Man: “R u ok?”

Magic Man: “R u mad at me?”

Magic Man: “Chase plz answer someone”

Magic Man: “If I said smth I’m sry”

Magic Man: “Just plz come home”

Magic Man: “Chase?”

Magic Man: “Ur dinner is getting cold WHERE ARE YOU”

Magic Man: “If u put on dnd I’ll b pissed”

Missed call from Magic Man

Magic Man: “Chase I stg if ur at a bar rn imma fucking deck u”

Magic Man: “No actually I’ll let Jackie do that”

Missed call from Magic Man

Magic Man: “Pick up ur damn phone Brody!!”

Magic Man: “Where tf r u????!!!!”

Spider-Man 2.0: “where did you go chase???????”

Spider-Man 2.0: “I thought you were just going on a walk”

Spider-Man 2.0: “THIS IS A VERY LONG WALK ITS BEEN HOURS”

Missed call from Spider-Man 2.0

Spider-Man 2.0: “if I have to save your ass from something or someone”

2 missed calls from Spider-Man 2.0

Spider-Man 2.0: “this isn’t funny chase”

Spider-Man 2.0: “I’m really fucking worried about you

2 missed calls from Spider-Man 2.0

Spider-Man 2.0: “CHASE I SWEAR IF YOU DONT PICK UP YOUR PHONE IM COMING TO LOOK FOR YOU”

Turtle: “Brody get your ass home RIGHT NOW!”

Chase weighed his options between who seemed the least pissed at him. Marvin and Jackieboy were obviously out. He didn’t particularly want to call Anti either. That left Henrik and Jameson. He went to the contact and pressed the call button. It barely rang before it was picked up.

“CHASE!! VERE ZEE FUCK HAFFE VOU BEEN??” Henrik shouted, his accent the thickest Chase has ever heard it, barely understandable in his drunken haze

“I’m sorry Hen” he slurred

“Chase vere are vou? Are vou fucking betrunken?!”

“Hen, Hen what? I-I don’t know what... what you’re saying.”

“HES ASKING IF YOU’RE DRUNK ASSHOLE!” Jackie shouted. “You’re on speakerphone you dick!”

Chase couldn’t see it but Jameson was trying to tell Jackie to calm down.

“OH FUCK NO THIS IS AS CALM AS I’LL BE JAMIE!”

Chase sat down on the sidewalk, leaning against a building. “I’m not fucking drunk,” he slurred

“Tell that to your voice.” Marvin piped up.

“Fiiiiiiiineeeeee mayyybeee I had a drink or few. Happy?”

“How many is ein few?”

Chase snorted and started laughing like that was just the funniest thing ever. “Fuck if I know, I wasn’t counting.”

“Chase where are you?” The static behind the phone let him know it was Anti and he whimpered.

“You’ll be mad at me...”

“WE’RE ALREADY MAD AT YOU DIPSHIT!” Jackie yelled. Henrik left the phone on the table while he grabbed his shoes and a jacket, figuring that because Chase called him, he should be the one to get him.

Chase suddenly got quiet. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Marvin furrowed his eyebrows.

“I mean I’m lost... that’s why I called... I was at a bar, then tried to walk home and got lost.”

There was silence for a little while. Marvin suddenly stepped towards an open area of floor and started mumbling a spell. “He’s on the corner of Center Street and Behmer Drive. A block down from a bar.” Henrik nodded, grabbing his phone and getting into the car.

“Chase stay on ze phone ja?”

“Okayyyy.” Chase yawned. “Hen I’m tired.”

“Vell I vill not carry vou in so vou need to stay avake”

“But I’m sleepyyyyyyy” Henrik sighed, driving as fast as he could without getting arrested until he saw a familiar figure all the while trying to keep said person awake. He pulled over and got out of the car. Chase stood up, but he stood up too quickly and vomited, luckily for him none of it got on Henrik. As soon as he was done, he was ushered into the car.

“I von’t um... vhat is that expression? Chew vou out now, vou vill certainly get enough shit vrom Jackieboy and Marvin.”

“Thank you,” Chase mumbled, the heat of the car feeling nice on his cold wet body.

“Und vour hangover und sickness vill be more zan enough punishment tomorrow.”

“I’m real sorry Hen.”

“Zat is vhat vou zaid last time. Und vou did it again. Vou must earn mein trust back Chase. Jamie’s too. Und vou vill be lucky if ze ozers trust vou again soon.” All of a sudden, Chase broke into sobs. He thought he didn’t have anymore tears left in him, but apparently he was wrong.

“Please don’t make me see them Hen... I’m just so weak and pathetic and you all are important. All I have is... is... I’m just useless. What have I ever been besides a nuisance? With all my whining about Stacy, over reacting to a couple sad days and calling it depression, my-my bad habits and self destructive tendencies... I’m surprised you all still keep me around,” Chase’s whole body shook with his sobs.

There was a lot to unpack there and Henrik had no clue where to start. He pulled into the driveway and put the car in park, turning to face Chase. “Chase... how long have vou been feeling like zis?”

He just shrugged. “I dunno... a while now, maybe a year or so?”

“Vhy didn’t vou say anyzing?”

“I was scared you would realize your mistake and kick me out.” He mumbled. It was quiet, but Henrik heard it loud and clear.

“Ve vould never dream of it Chase. Vou are far from useless-“

“Oh yeah? Name one thing that I’ve done that actually helped!”

Henrik went silent as his brain tried to think of a good example that wasn’t easily written off because he knew that anything he said would be torn to bits anyway.

“Thought so.” Chase shook his head. “I actually thought you were gonna say something too. Guess I can add moron to the list.”

“Chase stop-“

“Oh look, I’m being a bother yet again. Shocking.” He got out of the car, slamming the door, puked in the grass, then went inside, ready to be reminded yet again of how weak and pathetic he was.

The second he opened the door was the second the yelling began. He didn’t even bother protesting because they were all right. He screwed up, could’ve died, worried them all.

“Do you have ANY idea how scared we were?! I thought I was going to get a call from a hospital that you were hurt or DEAD! We all were so worried-“

“I DIDN’T ASK YOU TO CARE!” Chase snapped.

“WELL SCREW YOU TOO! I’m your brother!” Jackie fired right back.

‘Ok I think that’s enough’ Jameson tried to intervene, but of course, nobody was paying attention to him. Well, nobody except one person who did happen to notice. Anti stepped in between the two.

“That is enough.” His voice caused everyone to stop yelling, Jameson signing a small thank you towards him. “It seems like Chase has already berated himself over and over, haven’t you? I’m not inside your head, chill out, but you’re fucking screaming it with your body language. You seem to forget that you all can’t hide anything from me. And, I can assure you Chase, you aren’t faking anything, and we all would care.

“Don’t you see? Look around you Brody! Jackieboy is yelling at you because he was scared, and cares so damn much about you. Marvin had so much anxious energy that while he was pacing he started to fucking glow. Yes Marvin, I saw that. Jameson wasn’t signing anything, he just retreated into his mind again, like he always does when he’s worried. Henrik was prepping his work station just in case you came home half dead and was shaking so much he dropped half his equipment. And I-” Anti took a deep breath “I was glitching so much I disappeared for a little bit, just static filling my place. I’m still glitching a lot, and it is taking all of my energy to stay present enough to knock some sense into your drunken mind! We care about you because we all have no idea what we would do without you here!” He balled his hands into fists, and stared down Chase, watching him deflate even more than he already was. He shook his head, retreating to his room where he resumed his excessive glitching.

Jameson was the first one to recover. ‘Chase? What did Anti mean about “you aren’t faking anything, and we all would care”?’ When he was met with a blank stare, he sighed and looked to one of the others to translate. Marvin was the one to interpret for Chase.

“I... I had it in my head that... that I was just faking my depression... that I was just sad a bit. And that... that nobody would care if I... if I... tried again.” Everyone in the room but Jameson understood, and Jameson wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to know. His mind supplied an answer and he didn’t like it. Jackie was the one to walk over to Chase and engulf him in a hug. The rest soon followed, and Chase began to cry again into Jackie’s shoulder. After a while they one by one let go, and Chase looked between them all before going to his room and passing out on his bed.

[kariachi]

We are finishing! Season! 3!! Today is Roundabout day. Season finale, I’m finally gonna be something approaching up-to-date, at least with regards to Kevin, who is the only thing that matters

I’m just going to preemptively say Fuck the Forever Knight sideways with a pineapple

That house looks like something out Dexter’s Lab, if Dexter had been into shoddy constructionwork.

Goddamnit! Think of your neighbors before you build shit that fails that explosively in your garage!

Billings. I should’ve fucking guessed. Your constructionwork sucks and you suck.

Did that man just take a break to build a lightsaber? Stay on track, Billings!

Ben vanished and Max and Gwen had to turn to Phil, those poor two, they don’t deserve this.

(btw is case you haven’t picked up on it, I still don’t trust Phil further than I could throw him. He spent four series being a sack of shit and now suddenly he’s a good guy? I think not.)

Don’t go in there, that machinery looks like it could collapse at any moment!

Max acknowledges the ‘hunk of junk’, does not acknowledge that it’s a danger to everyone and thing within 60 ft of the damn house. We had a pumphouse in better shape that wasn’t half the size and we had it torn down as a safety hazard

“Sure brings back memories though, right Max?“ I’m with Gwen, wtf does that mean?

Max is hiding shit, of course he is. Is it Plumber shit? Immortal shit? He and Phil used to be supervillains shit? Who the fuck knows

“Ever since Ben fought Vilgax, I’ve been tracking the Omnitrix to further study it’s abilities.“ Because that’s not suspicious at all. Especially given who else has been tracking the Omnitrix and it’s bearer for a good while now

(am I saying Phil has ties to the FN? No, I’m just not not saying it)

Yes Phil, many machines work like that, most with any sort’ve radio or wifi whatever do, which we already knew the Omnitrix had by the time Ben fought Vilgax because that’s how the fucker tracked it down. You didn’t find out shit, you’re just taking credit for information that was handed to you on a plate.

Okay, this map on this show is a disaster, but I’m going to estimate Ben is in the Germany/Austria/Switzerland region. But anything could be true given this is the least accurate to real life Europe map I’ve ever seen as far as landmasses

Okay, Phil says Switzerland, I say we head to Austria.

Max he’s already grounded.

Also who the fuck is calling? And why does Phil ‘I’m tracking the Omnitrix’ Billings still have a landline? You’re in the suburbs, man, are you even legally allowed a landline?

Oh look, we cut to the FN, or at least one of his stupid jets. More openly evil than Bezos

Oh my gods that is the smallest round table I’ve ever seen! And if way too big a space that’s clearly not even set up for it! FN you fucking loser!

Okay though, okay, backing up, entering ‘pick at details mode’. The table looks like it’s set to seat eight and it already has at least six. Counting out the FN we have, going clockwise- Kevin, then Vin, then Charmcaster, Billy, and what is probably Simon though if it is I will have to slowly kill a bitch. So, I gotta say, smart move putting Vin between Kevin and Charm, because if those two were next to or across from each other it would probably be unsafe for everybody. Having Vin in particular in that spot is smart because 1) he’s managed some sort’ve management of Kevin before (which is better than FN has managed even if it didn’t last) and 2) he’s bigger than both of them put together so Kevin would have to go through or around him to get at Charm’s throat.

But, on Vin in particular- what the fuck dude?! You get into the evilest looking vehicle in the show so far, owned and run by a creepy adult corporate nasty, see a bunch of kids are involved, why the fuck are you and the children still here? This better get touched on because if you’re actually okay with this set-up you are not half the man I thought you were

If Kwarrel were here the FN already would’ve had his gear wrecked and been thrown out the jet, woulda happened as soon as he saw even one of the children “Why are there kids here?“ “They’re your coworkers“ and out the jet he’d go

Charmcaster, unimpressed

Seats to either side of the FN are empty

And because there is no adult in existence with any of the skills the children have, apparently.

Kevin, also unimpressed and glaring off in the direction of Vin and Charm, presumably at Charm specifically

Oh gods, Vin’s special skill is ‘loyalty’ what the fuck is he a digidestined?! Although I guess when you’ve specifically gone out and gathered up the children least likely to do a single thing you say the way you want it done...

Charmcaster’s spells, if she can manage to cast any decent ones without a copy of Shel Silverstein involved

Billy’s skill is money. Bitch you own three major franchises you do not need the 10-yo for his money. The most dumbass golddigging attempt I’ve ever seen, and I watched OV!

Also nobody is impressed so far. Nobody.

Okay 1) they gave Simon a helmet and he is adorable. 2) I am going to kill every adult in that room. Painfully.

Kwarrel wouldn’t stand for this!

oh my gods Simon is too damn precious how did I not like him in his premiere?

Oh look, it’s a Ben. Welcome to the cesspit, Tennyson

Kevin, not fucking having it

Simon is happy though

“What are you thinking?! He’s obviously gonna betray us the first chance he gets!“ Kevin talking sense. He watches tv, he knows how this goes.

Honestly even without the betrayal risk, you wouldn’t be able to blame Kevin for not wanting Ben involved here. They’ve got the same skill set, as far as FN is concerned, and Kev already very clearly has issues about being seen as the lesser option, which FN has previously played into.

Vin trying to talk sense, it’s not working especially because I’m still angry with you

Kevin demanding Ben’s reasons for being here.

Ben’s reasons being ‘because my family thinks I’m the boy who cried FN’

“Why should we trust you?“ “Because Grandpa and Gwen don’t.“ “What? What does that even mean?!“ Kevin looks about this close to throwing in the towel and quitting right here and now. ‘Fuckit, I’m leaving and replacing you all with a rat’

FN stopping shit before it gets too out of hand

And we cut back to the Tennysons with still no sign from Vin that he has any problem with kids being involved in this mess

“We’ve been tracking the Forever Knight’s movements over the last few months“ “Who is ‘we’?“ “Best to just focus on the task at hand, Gwen“ Max pls

‘We came to the conclusion he was recruiting some sort’ve team’ what was your first clue?

Phil made Gwen a magical girl armor transformation.

Gwen is Pleased. Also dangerous.

The fuck sorta ugly-ass building is that? Did they hire a weaverbird to build it, what the hell?

Kevin, continuing to be a little shit, as per the norm

I’ll admit, I appreciate the transformation sequences if just because they’re nothing special enough for me to note and so it takes seconds off the time I have to liveblog. It adds up when you’re stopping to type every few seconds.

Ben pls

Ben- runs in to intimidate researchers into giving them access to whatever Billy- already got his father to pay the people to let them in

Again, may I say, the FN has money. He doesn’t need Billy’s! He has his own! He’s just cheap!

Kevin is just gonna spend the whole of part I giving Ben shit

The fuck we looking at

It is becoming more and more blatant that the FN got Simon here by inviting him to a fake birthday party and have I mentioned I want this man to smolder down to ash?

Time portal. We’re constructing a time portal. If this is Paradox’s premiere I’m cancelling this damn series. We can try again when people learn to fuck off on the time travel plots (they’ve been done well three times and all of them were in Pern books)

He is having Kevin and Ben construct a time portal. Together. Kevin does not look impressed by his coworker.

1) Ben you’ve been the dweeb forever. 2) Finally somebody on this show acknowledges Kevin’s mullet. 3) I’m with Kevin on the ‘let’s see if he can keep up’ thing, given one of them built an Omnitrix and the other I’d be surprised to see set the time on a vcr

“You’re the one with a mullet!“ “Yep.“ Oh gods! Oh damn! The fact he just looks so damn smug as he says it, like ‘you can’t get under my skin about things I’m actually cool with’, this little disaster! And Ben just looks like he’s gonna punch him. Are we sure they didn’t swap bodies prior to this or something?

FN starts pulling the ‘you will do as I say’ and that’s when Kevin starts getting prickly. Of course it is. Again, this is why I keep giving him rankers, do you really wanna see how long a Weyr would last if he was on a chromatic?

These boys today. Ben is just itching for a fight and Kevin is... The change between Kevin before the FN threatens to start putting them in their positions his own damn self and after is very pronounced. One he’s being a little shit and enjoying it, the other he’s very... I’m really not sure how to word it, distanced maybe? Like he emotionally stepped back from the situation

Simon you precious little bean, put a happy birthday sign and some balloons on a piece of machinery. And a little party hat.

Billy was not prepared for Simon. He doesn’t deserve Simon.

Well, Gwen is infiltrating shit at the fucking 6 minute mark, which is a shame because I was hoping to have more of her and the adults doing their thing so we could get some more interactions between the child antagonists.

This child

And of course she ends up in the vent right above the lab the others are working in, it’s not like we’ve got another episode and a half to fill.

Seriously, I love her, but I was really looking forward to seeing more of the dynamic between the characters that are already present in the lab and adding her changes the odds there. If they’d waited another fur minutes with her I’d have been good, but this feels too early and is setting my hackles up that they’re going to throw a load of Gwevin into what was shaping up to be a full marks episode so far

1) Yes Gwen, wtf are they doing, 2) I see everyone but Kevin and Ben so wtf is going on there?

Well, she seems to be leaving to regroup with the adults, so there’s hope there

“Watch wearers“ I’m gonna throw that man off something tall

Ooo, Ben’s been promoted to ‘Loser-son’ and also might be losing his nerve? Either that or the just ran out of ways to shoot back at Kevin verbally.

Rush and XLR8

Boys both going at 456 mph through a fucking tube

‘You boys are gonna have to hit 888 miles an hour’ Vin, have you considered fucking right the hell off? Has the FN? I’m with the boys that’s fucking insane

They pass each other in the tube and Kevin finds the energy to still joke on Ben, because some things just matter

SImon and Billy get distracted from doing their jobs by Simon drawing a picture of them and Ben in which Billy is taller than Ben. Billy is pleased. Simon is precious.

Ya kniw what I need? I need a fic where this time/space portal opens up and UAF/OV Kevin tumbles out, judges the shoddy construction, and then fucking handles this mess. I don’t know what FN wants, but I’m fairly certain a bigger, meaner, stronger, more violent Kevin is not it. And so it would please me.

When there is enough speed and lasers going around to cause earthquakes

Gwen has successfully let the rest of her team into the Weaverbird Nest

Gwen that is not a shortcut that is a vent. A vertical vent.

Charmcaster magicking up a portal, for extra specialness

So she stabilized the rift and also made FN a fuckign space/time cuff.

Simon got to her, she’s in a party hat

This child really needs to stop talking like she’s the fairy that blesses/curses the king in a 90s fantasy film

“I will only require on of you to accompany me into the rift. It’s your time, Ben.“ Fucking welp.

Everyone except Ben, Kevin, and the FN has a party hat

Kevin, baby, this is not safe or fun let somebody else go do not let your well-battered pride and your issues get your hurt or worse

“I’m sick of him getting everything when I’m obviously better!” My son. My dearest son. My precious child.

“Are you questioning me?“ Said in the most intimidating voice FN can manage and all I can think is, dude, how long have you been working with this child? Did you not actually meet him in all that time? Was he dealing with a body double. Did you think opening a rift in space and time would somehow change the fundamental aspects of his being that resonate throughout every Kevin that has ever been?

“The grease child is right!“ Okay, it’s official, somebody needs to find Kevin a shower and some soap

Kevin and Billy all for kicking Ben’s ass

And then Charm joins in the fun, because why not

“All this pettiness proves that Ben is worth more than all of you combined“ I’m gonna kill ‘im.

Charmcaster just looks defeated at that line. Like, honest to fuck, stick a fork in her, she’s done.

Kevin, on the other hand, doesn’t, not even a bit. He is straight up trembling with his anger. Or hurt? Both most likely, though I think the anger is in the lead.

Billy, meanwhile, looks shocked and angry at being called out like this.

And Simon looks just straight shocked.

And no response shown from Vin.

Ben, no, this is a very bad idea.

And we cut to the old folk and Gwen.

Welp, looks like everyone is all together

The ‘good’ news is half the children really wanna hit something right now. Especially Kevin.

‘Take out the Tennysons to prove your worth’ Welp

And there our hero goes with our Big Bad

I think we’ve hit part II and it only took like 3.5 hours. I’m gonna be a while longer I think.

Ancient Egyptians telling ancient Egyptian bad jokes

Gotta give the show one thing- at least it’s Egyptians are black

Also too drunk to be impressed by two weirdos stepping out a glowing purple portal. I can’t even roll my eyes because somebody needed to laugh at the FN

Ben: Unimpressed by FN’s taste in vacation spots

FN is using Ben to track alien attempts to contact Earth. The first of which was here, apparently.

Also this adds a whole new level of jackass to his behavior towards the other kids, given he could’ve very easily and truthfully pointed out that he needs a feature on the Omnitrix that Kevin’s watch presumably doesn’t have, but instead used the whole thing as an opportunity to tear the other kids down further. tl;dr: I cannot wait to see him become reboot!Kev’s first kill

We want to prevent the alien contact. Why? Who the fuck knows. Who the fuck cares. I want to stop him just out of spite.

And so we learn that he wants to get rid of all Omnitrixs so that he can take over Earth. Wonder how that would play out with regards to Kevin’s watch though. Because his didn’t come from space, to my knowledge we don’t know where it came from. Fuck, it could be contact from another dimension that lead to it (I mean, you saw OG!Kevin, whose to say Reboot!Kevin doesn’t also have some serious weirdness going on there that, combined with the fact his house has two radio towers in the backyard, that could lead to him getting messages from other dimensions like that). tl;dr: If FN succeeded, would that just lead to him having to worry about a Kevin he can’t use Ben against, rather than Ben himself?

‘Forever Nut’ that’s a good one, nice job Ben!

‘Forever Losers’ Ben’s on a roll

Ben out to kick this man’s ass

“I’m too powerful“ I really wanna drop OG!Kevin on this dude, I really do. Or fuck, can you picture him vs Kevin 11k? He’d be drawn and quartered, possibly eaten, within a minute and a half.

Well, there goes the Sphinx

Timed out and still raring to go

FN comes all the way out to ancient Egypt to stop aliens making contact, turns out they didn’t even do it

Kidnapping the child

Back to the present day, in the lab, with the fighting about to begin

Charmcaster and Kevin v Gwen. Charmcaster is already smug. Kevin, meanwhile, is offering her the chance to back down and not get hurt. Which, for Kevin, is pretty nice.

Billy and Simon v Phil. Is certainly a thing, but nothing interesting

Vin v Max. Both using the concept of ‘family’ against each other. Forklift v forklift. I wish I was surprised.

FN and Ben are in renaissance Italy now. Florence specifically.

Ben: I will stop you! FN: Kid I already kicked your ass. Ben: Well you’re gonna have to do it again!

Oh look, it’s the descendants of those two guys from ancient Egypt. It’s nice to see that their friendship has carried down through the ages.

“Serve your leader” has that worked on any of the people you nabbed? Besides maybe Vin? Because I’m fairly certain if you called yourself Kevin or Billy’s ‘leader’ to their faces they’d come at you harder than Ben is

FN, so far you have gone to two places and times, neither of which was where aliens made contact. Have you considered, quite possibly, that the problem is you?

You know Kevin is in a foul mood when he’s down to destroy Gwen.

Gwen, trying to give the ‘FN is a using pos’ realization to at least Kevin

Charmcaster interrupting her and also do you really think you of all people are the one who should be trying to bolster Kevin’s confidence? I mean, your history with him is enslavement and reading his private poetry to a crowd. You should be glad he’s not going after you.

Vin v Max, moved on to segway racing. And slapfights.

...small Phil and Max. By which I mean like, late teens. Apparently this is the third ‘alien contact’ option. Also Phil built that deathtrap as a teenager and he’s living in his parents’ old place. That is an old-ass suburbs given we don’t know how the fuck old these two are

Oh for fuck’s sake, have you considered getting a fucking hobby Forever Bitch? Take up scrapbooking or something, get into Minecraft

We’ve still got 7 minutes btw. We’re going faster in this half, but we’ve still got a third of the episode to go

Ben Shockrocking it up

Vin vs Max take 3- racing matchbox cars

Max decides to have a conversation with Vin, find out why he’s working with FN despite the latter being about as pleasant as a rabid zombie skunk in your pillow.

...1) Vin has a child. 2) That child is grown. 3) That child is a lawyer (congratulations Mr. Vin’s Kid) 4) Between said lawyer child moving on with their life and LaMoron being a dick Vin was lonely so he joined up.

“This is the closest thing to a family I have now“ One would think the fact you have a child would say otherwise, but if the fact that you seem to be totally fine with a bunch of kids being drug into this mess, including a 6-yo, says anything about your parenting then I’m not really surprised.

Max offers to let him become a Tennyson, which, if the family reunion episode is anything to go by, he may already be

Max and Vin are friends now. Phil is still being pursued by children. And Charm and Kev are still trying to take Gwen out.

“Once I finish you off, Forever Knight will easily choose me over Tennyson“ Oh Billy no... Have I mentioned I really wanna kill hat man? Painfully?

Simon is about to obliterate a man for the chance at being best friends with Billy. I would be even more concerned if he wasn’t FUCKING SIX-YEARS-OLD, VIN

Phil is going to survive via appealing to Simon’s inner and outer juice-loving six-yo

Welp. Sorry Billy.

Ooo, Gwen almost blasted Charm before Kevin deflected it, good job son!

“Kevin finish her off“ Bitch you finish her off

“Why? All we were supposed to do is keep everyone away from the portal.“ My son talking sense and also notably sticking only to orders. Out of spite, because he wants to, because the last time he tried to bend orders the FN nearly killed him? (and do any of the others know that that’s a risk I wonder, that if the FN doesn’t feel you’re doing your job ‘right’ he’ll decide to just off you)

“You’re soft“ You’re the one that wanted him to do the dirty part, Charm

Charm tries to kill Gwen and Kevin just fucking, shatters her amulet in retaliation.

Charmcaster: This is why you’ll never be Forever Knight’s right hand! Kevin: I handle things my way.

I love my child.

Kevin literally just used his last second before timing out to vine Charmcaster to the ceiling

That moment when you have a crush but hate that you have it, I recognize the look. Been there.

“Well yeah, I’m not a monster.“ On the topic of saving Gwen. My precious child

Gwen: *heading for portal to figure out what’s going on* Kevin: *heading for the portal because he’s got revenge to take*

Somebody needs to kick FN’s ass. And then eat him. Slowly. Painfully.

FN damn near killed Ben before Kevin fucking saved his life! Literally, man was gonna strike Ben down!

“I’m here for that ungrateful tin can!“ Yesss!!! My son!! Kick his ass!

Gwen is helping!

“You wanna know why I didn’t choose you? It’s because you’re just a cheap Tennyson knock-off.“ .....

.....

......

........

..........this motherfucker gotta go

Ben joins the fray!

“Cheap knock-off, huh?“ I, for one, am proud to be here for my son’s first kill

FD does not get to stop alien contact because he’s being dogpiled by a bunch of pissed-off preteens. Good.

The children got a hold of FD’s portal control. Gwen is gonna be working portals, Kevin is on ‘keep the FD from killing Ben’ duty. This was his decision. Which says a lot about how he feels about the FD

Kevin, looking for some sort’ve explanation for the fact FD is a dick and will always be a dick, because this is what abused children do

“I was the best fighter you had.“ “You were only a useless pawn.“ “I’m nobody’s pawn!“ My son

Battle in the rift

FD demands Kevin hand over the Tennysons “and make yourself for once“. Gwen is concerned he may do it when I believe anyone who can read facial expressions and/or a room knows who he’s growling at

“Kevin, think about this, you’re not a bad guy!“ “See, that’s where you’re wrong“ At which point Kevin lets go of the Tennysons and fucking dives at Forever Dipshit

Kevin sacrifices himself to take out FD and what’s Ben’s reaction? “Kevin, no! I’m the cool one!“

These fucking children.

“And Kevin steals the spotlight again“ “You really wanna be trapped in the past?“ “Alright, I’ll let him have this one“

Glad to see Ben recalling the tale. Glad to see he’s still grounded. Gwen is Good. Fuck off Vin.

1) the portal is still open 2) FD’s helmet came through it. Whether that’s because Kevin threw it through it as he beat the living hell out of him remains to be seen

And season 3 is over.

11/11, because my son fucking deserves it no matter what else goes on

[mutantsrisingrpg]

Congratulations SARA! You’ve been accepted as HYPERION.

From start to finish, your application truly captivated me, Sara! I loved every bit of Gerrard- sorry, Bermudez’s (since we’re not friends and all) story, because you truly made him your own and brought him to life. It felt as if he could be his own stand-alone character, a protagonist of his own show or movie or something, and I am eager to tune in! He brings such a unique element that I can’t wait to see shared on the dash.

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

Out of Character Information:

NAME/ALIAS: sara

PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE: 18+

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: gmt – active every 2 days-ish? about ¾ days a week

In Character Information:

DESIRED ROLE: hyperion

GENDER/PRONOUNS: cis-male, he/him

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

La Tormenta – His ring name couldn’t be more accurate to the person that he is. Unpredictable, dangerous, destructive. Growing up, he had learned to fear people outside of his family for most of his childhood. When this fear came true, it was replaced with anger and hatred. They were the things that fuelled him and became a large part of who he was. An angry, hateful boy in unimaginable pain, but the pain kept him alive and it made him grow. With pain came power for him, and after he left the place that hurt him so much, there was no getting rid of it. It became deep rooted in him. He was always angry and always looking for something to hate, and most of all he was out of control. A storm destroying anything in his path. After being taken in by the Jem Family bruiser, however, he learned more about who he was than he ever had before. His mentor taught him how to control those overwhelming feelings, and with that control he became the most powerful version of himself. Inflicting pain was somewhat fun for him, especially when he was getting paid to do it. He’s learned the ways of words and business. He’s particularly savvy when it comes to recruiting fighters and seeking information. He controls the storm, letting it out when he wants and onto whom he wishes. He controls the underground, and he controls his fighters. Sometimes his abilities can get away from him, but his fighters fear his power sometimes, and he loves how that feels. With a silver-tongue and an eye for business, being a bruiser for the Jem Family really is his happy place. Even so, the man endured horrors over his lifetime and he still holds a lot of pain and trauma. The doctors call it PTSD, but he’s sure he’ll get over it. He can do anything. Or so he tells himself. Trust is still hard for him. His smart mouth and cocky attitude make it easy for him to push people away, especially those that might even care. He’s married to the business, he tells himself. And he likes it… he tells himself.

BIO:

Tw; torture, murder

Chaos was part of him. Chaos was always by his side, haunting his memories and influencing his dreams. He seemed to be running first, running so fast in the beginning, adrenaline in his veins and blood in his ears. They were running from their life, from their homes. No, not home anymore. They were running to their new home, a place full of glamour and life. It offered so much more than their previous home. His parents dreamed of jobs, and friends, and a life they had always wanted for their son. But they were always running from something. From their home first, then from the people that wanted to send them back there. America wasn’t all smiles and open arms like they had thought. America was full of hate and death. Rather here than home. It was years of chaos, school was dangerous, so lessons were at home; neighbours could report them, so they kept our heads down; the law was always behind them, so they ran as fast as they could. One day, they didn’t run fast enough. He remembered his screams, his mother’s cries, his father’s pleas as each one was taken into strong hands, too strong for his feeble mother and his ageing father, but not too strong for the power he held. The power he didn’t know he had. He knew something was always different about him, but he needed something special to pull it out of him. He needed fear, and he needed anger. And in this moment, he had never felt those emotions so strongly, and it burst out of him in a storm of fury. The city went dark. His fingertips buzzed. His parents looked at him like they had no idea who he was. The lifeless bodies on the floor were still hot with electricity. He felt his own body fall, weak in the aftermath of his own outburst, and darkness consumed him, too.

He awoke to white. Just white. Walls, sheets, clothes, lights. White-hot rage. White knuckles. Where are my parents? Where am I? What’s happening? None of his questions made it out of his mind, but they were shortly answered. Your parents are gone. You’re in a government facility. You are going to be tested and prodded and cut open and tortured for our own benefit and pleasure. Yes, he learned that all too quickly. Fear, he knew. Anger, he knew. Hate, he learned. Ten years in this place, and his uncontainable amount of hate was all he had to show for it. That, and several hundred scars. After a while in his lonely rubber cell, the days blurred together and the torturous experiments became a mundane chore. He was thankful for the pain, as it was the only thing that kept him strong. He wondered if it was the only thing keeping him alive. Then he felt it, building in him like a storm again. Thunder was crashing in his mind and soon his body would do the damage. The echo of chaos was swirling in him once again, and again, the city went dark. He saw his opportunity, and he ran. He ran like he always remembered running. Ten years of practicing his powers, learning his way around the facility, building up enough power to take it all down. Ten years and he was finally free. With nowhere to go.

It seemed like he never stopped running. Another enemy behind him, but how many enemies were ahead? He learned not to trust anyone, to keep his head down and deter anyone he met from wanting to know more. He became bitter and hateful, and it worked. For months, he remained lost. Living on scraps he stole and sleeping under bridges seemed like the best it would get. Should have just let them kill me, he thought. But, he kept running, just like his parents taught him. He ran from one city to the next, never in the same place for too long. Until he stumbled across a community in Chicago; the first group of people he ever felt like he belonged to. The Jem Family. Their hate for humans and their experiments were as deep-routed as his, and they knew as their eyes traced his scar-littered body and the tremble of trauma in his fingers that he belonged there. He still refused to ever trust anyone, but the one person that came close was the ‘bruiser’ of the Jem Family, who turned him into somewhat of a protégé. He fought for years in that underground. La Tormenta, they called him. The Storm. Unpredictable and powerful and electric. He learned a lot during his time in the facility, but his mentor taught him something he had never been shown before; control. Chaos was enough to cause damage, but controlled chaos meant causing whatever damage you wanted. He liked that. For years, he was the undefeated champion of the underground, earning a room and a place in the gang when he was ready in return.

And when it came for his mentor to retire, Gerrard was more than ready to take up to role. He knew this was his place in the world. He knew he no longer had to run.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

Kiara was certainly a challenge for Gerrard. It wasn’t often he was faced with a challenge, but his ego did love the chase of one and the victory of completing it. He had yet to complete this one, however. Kiara was slippery, and she was strong, and he knew that she would keep away from him as long as she wanted to. It angered him,a nd frustrated him, and yet still he could never pull away. It was a strange obsession of his, though he would never admit it was for any reason other than to recruit her. It wasn’t her he wanted, just her power. Knowing the Kings Collective had someone as powerful as she and yet the Jem Family couldn’t even get their hands on her was… annoying? No, exciting. The thought of pursuing her and turning her to them was exciting. He feels like a lion trying to catch the fastest gazelle there is. Plenty of others to go around that would be easier to catch, but nothing compared to the ultimate prize. He couldn’t deny that she enticed him, so much so that the thought of her ate at him almost daily. He would get her, one way or another.

EXTRA: This section is completely optional.

I don’t have any edits or anything ~yet~ but I have a few headcannons!

-        He prefers that people call him by his last name as it feels far more business-y. his first name is too friendly, and he doesn’t do friends

-        He’s a lil bit of a hound-dog if you know what I mean

-        His body is quite literally covered in scars and marks from his facility days, and some even from his fighting days

-        He has lighting-shaped burn scared on his fingertips from his power use

-        Diagnosed PTSD but believes he’s better than that psychological bullshit so rarely takes his meds and then gets triggered by things like drill noises, white rooms etc.

-        Has amazing control over his powers until certain instances when he gets too emotional then all hell breaks loose

-        La Tormenta is his ring name meaning the storm, it’s also his ‘bruiser’ name for those who have heard of him

-        His parents are alive, they got deported back to their country (Guatemala), but he hasn’t sought them out and doesn’t intend to. He’s pretty much pushed them to the back of his mind

-        Fluent in Spanish and English

-        He’s not very academically smart. He was homeschooled until fourteen and then went to the facility so he does struggle with things like academia and reading

-        Huge chain smoker, honestly his lungs aren’t okay

-        Sexually very fluid but honestly will just sleep with anyone that shows interest

ANYTHING ELSE: nope!