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deadwaterrp · 2 years

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PREMISE

There’s the story the locals will tell you. How this town in the middle of nowhere didn’t fall to the sun and the sand like every other ghost town in California. How an actual miracle pulled Deadwater out of desolation. It’s a happy story; one old-timers will boast about. But that’s not what really happened. Of course it isn’t. But does it matter?

Welcome to Deadwater, California. Population 7,777 exactly. Suspiciously, this number hasn’t changed in at least several decades. Outwardly Deadwater seems to be an innocent enough tourist trap town you’d typically find along Route 66 and other such desert highways. Heck, there’s an entire theme park out here. Yet lost or wandering travelers tend to claim the town gives off an eerie vibe they can’t quite place.

Cars will randomly die while approaching or passing through Deadwater. Photographs taken within town limits have a habit of developing blurry or distorted. Even so, something about this place still seems to lure people in. You’d be surprised to hear how many townsfolk were once roadtrippers, ghost hunters or UFO enthusiasts intending only to stop by.

Maybe it’s the water.

KEEP IT WEIRD, DEADWATER

The town of Deadwater, CA sits in a paranormal hot-spot. Perhaps because the veil is unbelievably thin here. Ley Lines, they say. Or perhaps it has something to do with that Miracle the Historical Society loves to tout, granting the town and its long-term residents a kind of magical inclination. Whatever the reason, strange things happen here. Strange things can be seen here. So much strange goes on in Deadwater and the surrounding desert, in fact, that they aren’t considered strange at all. Here is a detailed running list of the kind of weirdness you can expect out of this town:

AUTOMOBILE BREAKDOWN

Entering or leaving Deadwater town lines can get a bit tricky when motorized vehicles have a tendency to break down out of nowhere, for no apparent reason. They simply stop functioning completely out of the blue. Of course, this doesn’t happen to every single car that drives to and from Deadwater, but it happens often enough that the only auto shop in this town sees good business year ‘round.

CONGREGATION OF CREATURES

Each district in Deadwater appears to have attracted their own strange congregation of creatures. For example, a massive murder of crows have made the downtown area of Heritage Park their home. In the Lowlands a haughty flock of wild turkeys roam the pavement like an intimidating street gang. Cats, on the other hand, can be found slinking around the hills of Buena Vista. Meanwhile the creatures that congregate in the Wilds…Well, let’s just say they’re something else.

CRYPTIDS

Probably Deadwater’s largest kept not-secret. No one really acknowledges that they exist to your face. You, being an outsider. But they know damn well cryptids are real. What’s more, the desert isn’t home to just one cryptid creature. There are plenty out there that haven’t been discovered yet. Cryptozoology isn’t some woo woo pseudoscience for us Deadwaterians. It’s a serious degree you can earn at Deadwater College for a reason.

DEAD ZONES

These are areas around the Wilds that will wreak havoc on electronics of any kind. Batteries drain rapidly for no discernible reason. Your mobile devices will turn on and off at random or suddenly start behaving as if it is hacked. But the most chilling thing about these Dead Zones is the fact that people caught in them usually experience lost time. Maybe because time itself runs oddly out there. Whether it speeds up or slows down is anyone’s guess. Maybe time overlaps. In any case, Dead Zones are constantly shifting. So unless you have an EMF detector on your hands, good luck out there.

FAULTY CAMERAS

Whether using traditional film or digital, chances are that if you try to take picture or video evidence of the strange entities that lurk around Deadwater, you’ll end up with trash. Images turn out too blurry to see anything. Footage will look distorted. You could always keep trying, but what’s that they say about the definition of crazy? The only semi exception is ghost photography. Pictures of spirits won’t develop crystal clear, but they do tend to come out a little more compelling.

THE GHOSTS

Seeing the dead is an everyday occurrence here in Deadwater. At least for the locals. For the most part they are treated like any other citizen of the town. Some even work. So please don’t be alarmed if you stumble across people chatting away to someone you can’t see for yourself. Or happen across dogs seemingly walking themselves. We assure you they’re not. That’s just Ricky. Dying doesn’t mean he stopped loving dogs.

MYSTERY PAYPHONES

When was the last time you remember seeing an operational payphone? In Deadwater you can find them all over the place; booths popping up seemingly overnight and then disappearing again a few months later. These payphones are claimed to be owned by a company called Frontier Communications, or just Frontier for short. But on paper there is no such company in existence. If that isn’t mysterious enough, sometimes these payphones will start ringing on their own until a curious passerby picks up. People have reported hearing a range of things: static noise, random sequence of numbers, recited vintage recipes, other strange recordings, breathing, and dead silence.

NIGHT WHISTLING

Some cultures warn you not to whistle at night because you might just hear a disembodied whistle back. Here in Deadwater, however, you can hear that disembodied whistle whether you want to or not. But don’t worry. It’s usually harmless as long as you don’t look behind you. Keep walking all the way home and you’ll be totally fine.

SENTIENT CLOUDS?

Have you looked up at the sky recently? If you stare long enough you might catch something truly peculiar. Specifically, you might notice a few clouds that move a little too willfully. Don’t try to bring this up to the town sheriff, or any city official for that matter. They’ll only brush you off.

SINGING PALMS

There’s howling wind and then there’s this. On particularly windy days, the desert palms lining our suburban streets of Lowlands will rock and sway as if dancing. Then they begin to sing. No one has been able to identify the melody they sing as of yet, but it’s mostly pleasant if not entirely bewitching. Try not to stand around idly when you hear them singing. You might get hypnotized by their song.

UNUSUAL WEATHER PHENOMENON

Raining frogs in the springtime? Sudden electrical storm during the peak of summer? Thick fog that refuses to dissipate for an entire month? That’s just another day in the life in Deadwater. Odd weather, while not necessarily a common occurrence, happens often enough throughout the year that the locals just laugh it off as one of the quirks of living in this town. It’s best to keep clothing options for all seasons in the wardrobe, just in case. We’re still waiting for spaghetti to fall out of the sky though.

#previews #premise #lore drop 1 #prev

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nancywheeeler · 2 years

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📔📖📕?

three fandoms for the price of one!

(more) Ted Lasso:

okay, so one of my all-time favorite 90s movies is The Fully Monty and i think it would be such a fun AU for TL. the movie's themes overlap with a lot of what Ted Lasso's got going on (mental health, insecurity, father/son relationship, and how everything is wrapped up in men's relationship to their masculinity) and some of things Ted Lasso hasn't really addressed (yet) like class and sexuality. Plus stripper Ted! and the rest of our Diamond Dogs fit really well with the other characters (Beard as the best friend, Nate as the younger, insecure guy they help with his self-esteem, Higgins as the one who teaches them how to dance, Roy as the grump who is surprisingly good at dancing (definitely thanks to the yoga moms), throw Jamie in there as the hot guy lol). i could also see it as either Rebecca/Ted (she owns the club where the guys want to put on their strip show) or Trent/Ted (trent discovering what the guys are up to and sticking around to write an article about how the state of immigration affairs is so bad this poor man is putting on a strip show to get money to stay with his son; in this AU, i imagine michelle has a job in the UK). who knows if i'll ever write it but i'm thinking thoughts!

Stranger Things:

i'm going to keep the plot i've tentatively started drafting under wraps for now, but i have sent so many ST fic ideas to the graveyard over the years (rip the Will-centric ready player one AU, my beloved). a recent one that will haunt me for a while is a Station Eleven-inspired post-canon where our gang technically won the war against Vecna / the Upside Down, but it has inadvertently caused the apocalypse. while the rest of our gang has scattered across the country, trying to pick up the pieces of the world, Steve is one of the last holdouts in Hawkins. Meanwhile, Eddie has been traveling around as a wayfaring musician. idk it would be a little western-inspired because i've always loved western aesthetics in the apocalypse (stranger stumbling into town! nature running wild again! outlaws abound!). who knows what the plot would be other than finding a sense of home again. but i love that Station Eleven idea of art surviving the apocalypse and how it fosters community and i don't know!! maybe one day i'll figure out what this rambling would be about.

Dead Poets Society:

to anyone who ever subscribed to me / followed me for DPS, i am so so sorry. i wanna get back on the horse! i'm not sure if this is the plot i'll go for when i do (i once promised a Charlie POV of my good grief series and i do have some scenes of that drafted), but i have been toying with a While You Were Sleeping AU.......just thinking about Neil Perry being "in love" with Jeffrey Anderson who he has never actually spoken to. Accident happens, Jeff's in a coma, his friends and family think Neil is his fiancee, chaos ensues as Neil starts falling for Jeff's brother, Todd instead. This or my 80s The Sure Thing road trip from hell AU.......they compel me!

(Put "📓" or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about.)

#ask #thanks casey!!!

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teen-heart-throb-mr-hyde · 4 years

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i could create a three-way venn diagram between j&h, tgwdlm and spider-man totd with surprising ease

#tegan talks #there is some WILD overlap happening gang

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kindofwriter · 3 years

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Can I offer you some: ‘Ep 25, The Gang Meets Wilde’

Pt. 2

I guess I swung wildly between ‘brandy’ and ‘whiskey’ when writing this and didn’t notice, oof.

Transcript under the cut:

HAMID: I don't, I, I don't think so... Um, hello?

HAMID presses his finger tips to the door, swinging it gently inwards but not fully opening it. SASHA instantly flattens herself against the wall, drawing a dagger and clutching it to her chest.

VOICE (O.S.): Oh, hello?

BERTIE: Oh! Hello!

SASHA and ZOLF both give BERTIE a glare. HAMID reaches out to push the door further, but stops before he does.

VOICE (LANGUISHLY): Oh, hello!

BERTIE (OVERLAPPING): Hello!

HAMID (OVERLAPPING): Hello?

VOICE (O.S.) (OVERLAPPING): Hello!

BERTIE: Hello! Hello!

ZOLF elbows BERTIE in the waist.

ZOLF: Who on Earth are ya?

VOICE (O.S.): I could ask you the same question, I suppose!

HAMID steps into the apartment, pushing the door wide open as he does so. ZOLF and BERTIE step in behind him.

OSCAR WILDE is lounging by the hearth, looking only slightly uncomfortable in a halfling-sized chair. He's human, average height and average build, with plump, youthful features. His hair falls the nape of his neck in glossy, brown waves that shimmer every time he turns his head; he's clearly wearing an illusion.

WILDE is dressed in a manner that's almost garish: peacock patterned waistcoat, scarlet, French-style suit, red shoes, and yellow socks, but between his good-looks and his charisma he completely pulls it off. In one hand he holds a glass of HAMID's whiskey, and in the other a note pad.

WILDE: So sorry I, uh, got here a little early, thought I'd just wait it out.

WILDE smiles winningly at the party. BERTIE reaches up to lift the grate of his armour. HAMID looks confused. ZOLF frowns, then grabs hold of his symbol. A low sound, part way between a hum and a growl, emits from his throat, reminiscent of wind battering across the top of a lake. For just a moment his eyes glow, then WILDE's notebook bursts into flames.

WILDE: Ooh, ah!

WILDE drops the pad, shaking his hand. It's burnt to a crisp before it hits the ground. Looking at its smoldering remains, a faint smile twitches at WILDE's lips.

WILDE: Fantastic, that'd be you... Zolf? Yes?

ZOLF (PLAYING DUMB AS A ROCK): Who, sorry?

WILDE (SMIRKING): Hmm.

CUT TO SASHASASHA is still pressed against the wall, head turned to the side so she can listen in. Her face is stony, but she looks poised for a fight.

CUT BACK TO INT.

WILDE: So, that must be Zolf.

ZOLF scowls and looks away from WILDE.

WILDE: And Hamid, and Sir Bertrand, yes.

BERTIE: Hello.

BERTIE steps forward, obscuring WILDE's view of everyone else. Between his height and his breadth he towers over WILDE, who immediately starts to look a little flushed.

WILDE (ALMOST COY): Hello.

WILDE looks BERTIE up and down in a meaningful fashion. He then glances away for a moment to meet ZOLF's eye, just to make sure he's catching what WILDE is doing. BERTIE looks a little affronted at the loss of attention.

BERTIE: Mm.

WILDE turns and begins to pour another glass of whiskey from HAMID's decanter, then offers it to BERTIE.

HAMID: Um, who might you be?

WILDE (WITHOUT BREAKING EYE CONTACT WITH BERTIE): Wilde. Good to meet you.

BERTIE: Pleasure.

BERTIE takes the drink.

ZOLF: Is there a compelling reason why, um, I shouldn't shove this trident up your bum?

Now WILDE does turn away from BERTIE, looking right at ZOLF. It's difficult to tell whether he's red with annoyance, heat, or still recovering from his intense eye contact with BERTIE.

WILDE: Oh, that's not very- You wouldn't want that getting out, would you now? Honestly!

BERTIE (CLEARLY TRYING TO WIN WILDE'S ATTENTION BACK): Well, you haven't been formally introduced, which I think is part of the reason.

ZOLF (MUTTERING): Well, also, you'd be dead, so it wouldn't be going anywhere.

BERTIE has clearly failed to hold WILDE's attention, as he watches ZOLF with a quirked eyebrow. There's no hint of the 'bedroom eyes' he'd tried on with BERTIE, but there's definitely some kind of passion in that gaze. However it seems, more than anything, like the passion to argue.

HAMID: You, you, you appear to be in my apartment uninvited.

WILDE: I do apologise.

WILDE actually looks at HAMID for the first time.

WILDE: I was just hoping to get hold of you, and, well, I thought this was the best place. I mean, you have been staying here most nights, haven't you?

HAMID: Yes.

WILDE: Well, there we go then, I, uh, I thought you might enjoy the company.

WILDE once again makes eyes at BERTIE.

HAMID: Next, next time it might be nice of you to wait for an invitation.

WILDE: I, I do apologise, I, I did knock!

HAMID sighs deeply.

HAMID: Not quite the same thing, is it?

WILDE (EVASIVELY): I suppose not. So! This is all very exciting; I'm noticing you're all looking a little worse for wear-

HAMID smooths a hand over his waistcoat.

HAMID: I, uh, I would dispute that, thank you.

WILDE: Well, let me re-phrase: not all of you. I'm, I'm noticing, um-

WILDE glances at ZOLF, who seems to be the only one in the room not trying to capture his attention.

ZOLF (GRUMPILY): No, I always look like this.

WILDE: One of, one of your party's missing?

ZOLF (PLAYING DUMBER THAN A ROCK): Who? Nope.

WILDE: Oh, I'm fairly certain that the girl-

ZOLF (INTERRUPTING): No, nope, who? What?

WILDE: The girl is. Hmm, yes. Quite. So, where have you been? How was today? I'm quite fascinated, actually.

HAMID (FIRMLY): Why don't you tell us why it is you're here?

WILDE: Well, I just thought it might be a good idea for you to sit down and, y'know, really, really share, y'know? Really explain things by yourselves, because people want to know. You know?

WILDE gives HAMID a very smug look.

HAMID: Are you a reporter of some kind?

WILDE: Mm, yeah, of a, of a kind. I, I, I sell my stories to whoever's interested, really. And a lot of people are very interested-

WILDE turns away from HAMID and begins to pour more glasses of whiskey. HAMID seems unfazed by this.

WILDE: I just, a lot of people are very interested-

BERTIE: Well, you know-

BERTIE shoves his glass between the decanter and the glass WILDE was filling, effectively giving himself a top-up.

BERTIE: I, I have been looking- I very much have an opening for a biographer.

BERTIE raises an eyebrow at WILDE, still leant across him from filling his glass. WILDE smirks.

WILDE: Well, we would have to closet ourselves away for a significant amount of time to really go over, go over the details. The nitty gritty, as it were.

Behind them, ZOLF scowls, clearly picking up on their queer-coded language, but immediately looking down on anyone who would willingly flirt with BERTIE. HAMID shuffles his feet, waiting innocently for the pair to finish talking.

BERTIE: I, I assure you, I have some extremely fine details to share with the appropriate young scholar.

WILDE turns, two new glasses of whiskey balanced in one hand.

WILDE (WITH A CHUCKLE): Presumably you mean of quality, not diminutive.

BERTIE joins in with his chuckle, but it quickly becomes mean, eventually devolving into a deep growl. Suddenly looking a little uncomfortable, WILDE moves away from BERTIE and offers a glass of whiskey to ZOLF. His face is soft; clearly he's looking for a little sympathy.

ZOLF refuses to take the whiskey, and scowls again at WILDE.

HAMID takes the glass offered to him, so WILDE drains ZOLF's.

BERTIE: My details are distinguished by their quality and their quantity.

WILDE (LESS SURE, BUT STILL PLAYING HIS PART): Indeed, I mean, that, that's a lot of the reason that I'm here. I've been hearing so much interesting- I mean, your deeds with Other London? And especially, I mean- Did you, did you manage to catch whoever it was with the antiques store?

CUT TO SASHA IN THE HALLWAY

SAHSA grimaces; tightens her grip on the dagger.

CUT BACK

WILDE: I heard that was, heard that was a bit of a problem, no?

An awkward silence hangs over the room for a moment as ZOLF and HAMID give WILDE a look that tells him that was in poor taste. BERTIE enjoys his whiskey.

HAMID: Uh, l-look, Mister Wilde, I don't-

WILDE: Sorry that was, that was, that was rude of me. Clearly I was treading on a nerve. I'm so sorry.

BERTIE raises an eyebrow, seemingly losing some respect for WILDE as he apologises.

HAMID: I don't, I don't mind telling you about, uh, what we've been up to. As I'm sure you've seen in the press and will see again soon, we are not averse to sharing our story. But I really must insist that you tell me what it is you do, and why it is you are here specifically.

WILDE (JUMPING IN): It is so generous of you to donate so much to the natural history museum, as well-

Suddenly WILDE is knocked off his feet, backwards into HAMID's chair, dropping his glass as he does so. SASHA looms over him, the tip of a dagger pressed lightly to his throat. WILDE is surprised, but not afraid.

SASHA: What do you know about the antique store?

WILDE smiles, just slightly.

WILDE: Well, I was hoping you'd be able to tell me, all I know is that you were there.

SASHA (UPSET, BUT IN HER OWN WAY): What, what do you know?

BERTIE steps forward, placing a hand on SASHA's shoulder.

BERTIE: Now, now, Sasha. If there's any blade to be held to this young man's throat I feel it should be mine-

SASHA shrugs BERTIE off with such force he actually has to remove his hand.

SASHA (CLEARLY AGITATED): He, he knows something about what happened to Gusset. He, he knows who trashed Gusset's store!

WILDE (WRIGGLING BENEATH THE DAGGER): No, no, that's not what I said.

SASHA: Oh, really? So, you know-

WILDE: I was curious-

SASHA: So how did you know about that? Because we didn't go to the press about that.

SASHA pressed slightly with the dagger. WILDE leans further into the chair to avoid getting nicked.

WILDE: Well, y'know, some people are observant, and some people, y'know- I mean, where do the press find these things out?

SASHA: Well, but- Usually, Hamid tells them!

For just a moment SASHA alleviates some pressure from WILDE, and it seems as if she might wheel around to threaten HAMID. Then she looks down at WILDE and re-applies the pressure; she trusts HAMID.

WILDE: Well, usually doesn't always cut it-

SASHA: That's how journalism works!

WILDE takes a moment to allow his eyes to drift back to BERTIE.

WILDE: Some deeds will just speak of their own accord.

SASHA: Oi!

SASHA begins to press the tip of the blade to WILDE's throat. Once ZOLF realises what she's doing he steps forward slightly, poised to pull her off.

SASHA: What do you know about who trashed Gusset's store?

WILDE: I don't know what to say. I know that you went in there, and you, uh, had a bit of a conversation. It looked very amicable, and then you headed on your way.

WILDE catches sight of ZOLF, stood behind SASHA with an arm outstretched. He visibly relaxes, allowing a huge grin to spread across his face.

#rqg #the rusty quill gaming podcast #zolf smith #oscar wilde rqg #sasha rackett #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #bertie macguffingham #zoscar #ah that sweet sweet qpr meet ugly #rqg 25 #author's note

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anothertimdrakestan · 4 years

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Heat Waves (TimKon)

Words: 3k

Hi! I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve been working on this for way too long and definitely have a pt2 planned out if you guys like part one! I hope you’ll take the time to read this because I spent way too long on it and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out!

for the like 0.1% of my audience that this overlaps with, yes, i too am utterly obsessed with Heat Waves for DNF and have been listening to this song on repeat for three days straight waiting for chapter 8. But, i figured why not let that amazing piece of absolute art inspire a Timkon fic cuz they have the same dynamic as DNF in my eyes! All credits go to tbhyourelame on ao3!

if you don’t know what heat waves is that’s fine this is just a regular fic but I highly recommend you checkout the amazing song here

It was as hot as death itself in Kansas. Not to mention a farm with no AC was just about the worst place Conner could be forced to “vacation” at. But Ma and Pa had been begging to have him over and the month of June just seemed to overlap, so there Kon was, sweating buckets in the middle of nowhere.

It felt so cold in Gotham. Though, the temperature was comfortable- the most comfortable it had been all year- but Tim always felt colder, lonelier, when Conner wasn’t by his side. The two of them were a duo, fitting together like a puzzle piece, the absolute best of friends and best of heroes. But now, he was using his mandatory away-from-the-tower weeks up while Conner was in Kansas, it was some sort of mandate that Bruce’s kids come home occasionally and instead of suffering weekends in Gotham Tim opted to just grind out a few weeks at the manor, even if it meant dealing with Damian’s unrelenting murder attempts. But it wasn’t all bad, Tim got to patrol with Bruce again, hang out with Jason occasionally, and even see Dick from time to time. “Family” bonding at it’s finest.

“Hello?” Tim’s voice was quiet, Kon constantly felt himself turning the volume button up on his phone just to hear a decibel more of his best friend’s comforting tone.

“Hey Timbers how was your day?” Conner felt himself relaxing to the light sound of Tim breathing, he was laying on the floor, spread like a starfish so that no sticky part of his body could touch and create more sweat.

“Nothing much, no patrol tonight- I guess you remembered,” Tim’s voice was filling his ears. I remember everything you tell me. “Yeah, yeah I did,” Conner quickly replied. “Any boring farm chores today?” Conner heard the familiar rustling, he could hear Tim stand up, he’d memorized the sound of Tim taking him off speaker and resting the phone in between his shoulder and ear. He could hear Tim’s hair, that he knew he was probably growing out, brush the mic. I always liked his hair longer.

“Kon?” Tim snapped him back into the stiflingly hot room. “Oh sorry, it’s really hot here, kinda makes me zone out. Um, I’m alright I got to hangout with the cows today which was cool- they don’t like the heat either but Ma says it’ll be over soon,” Conner rambled, all too focused on Tim’s breath in his ear.

“Sorry for making you zone out, I guess nothing interesting is happening here,” Tim sighed, Conner shook his head, rolling over on the floor, leaning down into the mic of his phone.

“Nothing about you bores me Tim,”

Tim didn’t reply. Conner mentally cursed himself, he was really too tired, too hot and bothered to be this flirtatious with Tim, who was a complete wild card when it came to Conner.

And then he answered, Tim’s voice was higher pitched, the way it ascended when he was blushing- he was blushing. “Well that’s not true, I’m very boring. When I’m doing cases or training or-” Conner couldn’t take it.

“Nothing about you could bore me Tim. I’m down to be with you whenever, doing whatever, you know that,” he felt his tone soften, loving the way Tim’s breath hitched with every compliment.

“Be with me?” Tim shot back playfully, Conner could practically hear the smirk toying on the smaller boy’s lips.

“Did I stutter?” Conner heard a loud noise, a thump. Tim’s voice was high pitched again, “Sorry- uh I dropped my phone,” Conner felt himself growing warmer, if at all physically possible. “No problem. So, what are you doing tomorrow with Bruce?” Conner didn’t like pushing Tim too far, hell, he barely knew how he felt half the time. Tim’s voice brightened, “Oh! We’re gonna go to this old ice cream shop I adored as a kid! It’s been too long since I’ve been there, you remember me talking about it?”

Conner didn’t need a second to answer, “Sub 30, you always get the one with the espresso poured over it,” he couldn’t lie, ice cream sounded absolutely heavenly at the moment. Tim’s voice flooded through the heat, “Right as always- I swear they programmed some sort of photographic memory inside of you,” Tim teased, Conner answered honestly, “I just listen when you tell me things”. The night went on, Tim quickly had to go, believe it or not he did sleep when given the opportunity. “Try not to die of heat exhaustion, drink lots of water throughout the day, not all at once,” Conner smiled, “will do, goodnight Timmy,” Tim answered mid yawn, “night Kon”.

And then he was alone. Alone with the heat, with his thoughts, the latter far more dangerous. He’s my best friend, of course I remember everything. Conner found himself staring at the ceiling, Ma had painted constellations on the walls and ceilings of the room, something funny about alien genes liking the stars. Conner used to be able to find every pattern, name every star, but the only shape he could trace was Tim. There were his eyes, they were pools of deep blue, they sparkled when he laughed but could glare bullets when he tried. If he stared hard enough Kon could find his hair, it’s always soft and smells delicious, layers falling effortlessly- cascading to frame his face. Then there were his lips, Conner found himself constantly mesmerized with the way Tim bit his bottom lip when thinking, the way they scrunched together when he said something funny, how they constricted when he bit the inside of his cheek just enough to hide the emotion he was so scared of portraying. They were perfect.

He let the heat take his mind, flowing with the stars as he thought dangerous thoughts about his best friend. His thoughts danced around Tim’s waist, flowing carefully around his chest, wrapping Kon in every layer of Tim’s personality, every smile, laugh, tear, scowl, it was Tim. Kon’s Tim.

And there, on the floor, he drifted to an uncomfortable, sweaty sleep.

Tim was scrolling aimlessly through his phone, Gotham was surprisingly boring. He once found the city bustling and distinctly alive but now it only left him cold, cold and bored.

“Ice cream as good as you remember?” Bruce’s voice lifted him from his device. “Yup! Can’t believe you let me have espresso at like 10, you basically started my addiction.” Tim threw on a smile, glancing down at the half eaten dessert. “Yeah, can’t say I was the best father but, I tried,” Bruce’s shoulders shook lightly, but the laughter didn’t make it to his eyes. Did you really try? Truly? Tim dove back into the creamy sweet, admiring the bitterness the espresso brought the flavor. His phone buzzed.

K: Did you get the ice cream?

T: yeah, you remembered?

K: You literally told me last night

T: have i been off your mind since?

K: No.

Conner always did this, every time Tim thought he’d throw him off guard with something funny or flirtatious just to have a little fun Kon took it and ran with it. And I’m always the one who ends up blushing. Tim thought, shaking his head. It was really his fault he let Conner get him riled up. They were best friends, flirting or dealing out little sexual quips were natural, and often pretty funny.

“Earth to Tim? I’ve got a meeting you wanna head back while I head to the office?” Tim glanced over at Bruce who was now standing up in front of him. “Yeah, I can work on cases back at the manor, you gonna head to the office?” stretching his arms he stood up, noticing Bruce had put on his business face- the one stone cold and dry that only brought back the worst memories. “Yes.” His response was gruff, Tim suppressed the shudder that tried to dance down his spine. “Uh yeah, I’ll head back, have a nice day B,” he smiled, hoping it made it to his eyes.

“You can’t keep calling me while I’m on patrol, it’s not safe,” Tim chastised Conner loosely, appreciating the company as his patrol with Damian was always deathly silent. “C’mon, you’re used to having me in your ear,” Tim gulped, glancing around for Damian who was three buildings over, deeply uninterested. “Kon, oh my god, I’m gonna mute you,” Tim whispered, revelling in the chuckle that stirred in Conner’s chest. It was deep, and warm, so distinctly warm Tim felt the heat budding in his chest.

“So, patrol with the demon? He hasn’t cut your grapple line yet?” Conner’s tone was low and silky smooth. Coughing to clear his throat Tim replied, “nope, he’s most horrific when Bruce is here, when he’s not the punk couldn’t care less whether I live or die,”

“I care,”

“I know Kon,” If only you knew how much I appreciated it.

“Asshole, can you hear me? I said we’ve got a gang robbery on second? You coming genius?” Damian’s disgusted tone flooded over his comm, and Tim quickly turned his attention to the bat-brat who was already grappling towards the alarms and shouts. Conner’s whisper asked, “can he hear me?” and Tim replied, “no, you’re on a separate channel, Dami can only hear me when I unmute. Just be quiet while I take out these thugs,”

“Why? Because my voice distracts you?” Conner’s tone shifted into dangerously flirtatious.

“No, cuz you’re annoying as shit,” Tim smirked, running across the top of a building, letting Damian call the signals so he didn’t get all upset.

“Do I make you uncomfortable Tim? Do I make you forget just exactly what you’re doing, whether you want to use your batarang or bo staff? Do I make you, warm? Because it’s so warm here, so hot, god I’m just so hot I-”

“Shut. Up.” Tim struck the gun out of a scared looking man. Rolling his eyes at the man in his ear.

“Why? Are you too focused? We’ve taken out much harder criminals all while talking. Aren’t we just talking right now?” Kon’s voice was ringing in his head like never before.

“I’m trying to focus but it’s no good when you’re in my ear.”

“And what if I wasn’t in your ear? You remember? When we work side by side, so close- are you an affectionate person Tim?” Tim could feel the heat dripping off of Conner’s voice, but he was taken aback by Conner’s new line of thought.

“Wha- what? Am I affectionate? I don’t know. Sometimes?” Tim almost missed a hit, huffing as Damian blocked what would’ve been a hard blow on him. “Start paying attention Drake,” Damian’s tone was acidic. But he was drawn back into his com as Conner’s voice flooded his ears again.

“Would you be affectionate with me?”

“Yes” Tim’s breathless reply was instant, his brain not giving him a chance to think.

“Good, I like that. You know I’m very affectionate too? I like getting to hold the people I care about close, feeling their warmth. You know I’m very warm right now?”

“I- I know Kon, I bet, are you doing alright? Drinking water?” Tim shook out the thought of Conner lazing out in his room, sweaty, lips parted as he pushed out warm breath- Stop. Focus. Your job is to defend these people. Damian’s doing a good job, You just have to round up the civilians. Tim forced himself back into the real world, taking on one of the gang members with ease, tying him up swiftly before moving on to the next.

“I heard that, I can hear it every time you take out one of those men. This is easy isn’t it? I can’t be that distracting to you. You’re too good.”

“You always do this,” Tim felt his cheeks heating up, his steps felt forced, like he had to remind himself to breathe. Tim carefully rounded up civilians, escorting them to safety as Conner started again in his ear.

“Always do what Tim? Tell you how much I appreciate you? How much I miss you? Do you not think you deserve to be missed? To be loved?”

“Conner” Tim’s tone was harsher than he wanted it to be. But nonetheless Conner continued.

“Why not? Why the hell not? You’re amazing Tim.”

Tim scoffed, playing it off as a cough to the people in front of him.

“What do you need to hear Tim? That you’re amazing? Brilliant?-”

“Oh my god Kon-” Tim interrupted, but Conner wasn’t done.

“Talented? Impressive? [his tone deepended] - Attractive?”

“I’m gonna hang up,” Tim was breathing so hard he was practically hyperventilating. The compliments were all that consumed his thoughts, swirling around his brain, packing it full of deep, dangerously flammable thoughts.

And Conner was ready to let it burn.

“You need to be kissed Tim,” Conner murmurs, throat raw, “so hard that you can’t remember your name- maybe then you’ll understand what I mean.”

The batarang in Tim’s hand clattered to the floor. Damian’s head whipped to him as Tim struggled to regain function.

“I’m muting you, see you in a bit,” was all Tim could choke out before he ripped the earpiece out, unable to let it sit, burning into his skull. You’re almost done here, cool down, finish up. Tim told himself as he manually reminded himself to breathe. You’ve got this.

Conner knew Tim ended the call. But he didn’t have the energy to stop the endless beeping from the disconnected phone.

He was laying on the floor of his room, limbs spread out as he clawed for anything that could cool him down, but all he could feel was heat as he stared up at the stars.

He had to admit, he’d pushed Tim further than ever before. But it felt too right to stop, too good. He couldn’t stop replaying the way Tim’s breath hitched after every word, desperately grasping for the feeling budding up in his chest. It was too addictive to not let the words he’d spent too long crafting pour from his lips into Tim’s heart.

Kon didn’t know how long he laid there, dazed in the heat, just trying to relive word after perfect word.

Until his phone rang.

“Tim?” his voice was ragged and raw.

Tim’s was high pitched and tight. “Conner what the hell was that? Was that funny to you? Saying all those things- flirting with me while I’m trying to do my job?”

“Flirting?” Conner mused, staring at the stars with a tattered smirk on his face.

“Don’t act dumb, I don’t know what kind of sick joke it was saying all that while I’m on patrol but I’m glad you think you’re funny,” Tim’s voice was cold. But not the cooling tone, it was sharp, like the way the freeze of ice can feel so painfully hot when applied too harshly.

“I would’ve said it to you no matter what you were doing,” Conner whispered, resting his phone on his chest, wincing at the sticky noise it made as he tried to adjust it’s positioning.

“So that was just all for you? To let you listen as you screwed with my brain?” Tim retorted.

Conner was done dancing around the truth, all forms of control eluding his mind. “Yes,”

“That’s cruel Kon, can you imagine if I did that with you? Told you how you needed to be kissed while you’re out with Jon or something?” Tim sounded exasperated, but at the end of each quip Kon could hear the deep breaths he was taking. Does- Does he like this?

Tim continued. “Don’t answer that. Shut up, I know what you’re gonna say. ‘Oh Tim it’s not the same,’ just- just get out of my head!”

Conner sat up. He was floating. Floating in the middle of his room, the phone on his chest tumbling to the floor as he scrambled to grab it again, feeling his feet touch the ground as he held the phone as close to his lips as he could.

“What do you mean Tim? How am I in your head?” Do you feel the same way I do right now?

“You- you just know me. So well, and when you say stuff like that- when you’re in my ear saying those things your voice, it’s like fire, it burns.” Tim sounded desperate, his voice painfully strained.

Conner’s head was spinning, “I burn you?” he matched Tim’s desperate tone.

“You melt me.”

Conner’s head slammed against the roof of his room, as he tried to regain control of his senses he heard Tim murmur, “does that make sense?”

“More than you know Timbers, more than you know,” Conner could hear Tim let out a sigh, the kind that told him all would be okay.

As Conner took a deep breath, steadying himself for what was to come Tim spoke first. “It’s so late Kon, I’ve been up to long, I think I need to go to bed,” Tim’s tone was soft again, the cooling, comforting tone that Kon was scared he’d never hear again.

"Yeah, I- uh, have chores in the morning anyways.” Conner answered, hoping to give Tim some peace of mind.

“Okay, sounds good. Goodnight Conner,” Tim said quietly, his tone thoughtful and slow, finally letting the sleep crowd his mind.

“Goodnight Tim, talk to you tomorrow?” Conner let too much hope sink into those last few words.

“Yes, night now,” Tim answered easily, quickly hanging up the call, letting Conner sink down back into the carpet of his floor.

“Tomorrow,” Conner whispered to himself, feeling the intense heat start to creep back in as he drifted into a sweaty sleep.

“Tomorrow,” Tim whispered to himself, trying to swallow the nerves he didn’t know Conner could draw out of him.

“I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

not my usual fic but I really hope you enjoyed!

taglist: @vintageroses10 @idkmanicantenglish @kishony-the-geek @foenixphire @how--are--you @psych0crybaby @romance-is-tragic @birdy-bat-writes @subtleappreciation @officiallydarkgeek also kita cuz i love u and wanted to try writing timkon more in your style hehehe @river-bottom-nightmare

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prettywarriors · 4 years

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Mini Mahou March Week 4

Hey everyone and welcome to the fourth and final week of Mini Mahou March! You can find the main post for the event here X.

The Prompt for the week of March 22nd-28th is...

Pirate themed Phantom Thief/Kaitou!

The sub-genre of magical girls that needs more love, the phantom thief has a long history of non-magical girl entries such as Lupin and Magic Kaitou. MGs include Shadow Lady, Saint Tail, Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne, and the recent Phantomirage.

Magical girl kaitou often steal with good purpose- returning stolen goods like Saint Tail, or exorcising demons like Jeanne. With a much smaller pool of inspiration to draw from, there is very little consistency in designs for these characters, although they always have a way to make a quick escape. They often leave behind a calling card, sometimes as a form of cheeky flirting with their officer rival.

Pirates are sea-faring thieves with just a good aesthetic. You know. Captain Hook. The Jolly Roger. Patchy from Spongebob.

I’m only looking for a visual character design, something as simple as a single fullish-body picture, but you are more than welcome to go as wild as you want with trinkets, backstory, information, alt outfits, all that good stuff. Also I say girl but girl boy nb other as long as it’s a magical humanoid gender be damned, thumbs up. (Also nothing 18+ please. Your characters can be, just not your art for this)

Make your post and tag me before end of day March 28th (11.59EST) and I will be re-blogging participants here next Sunday/early Monday, with everything tagged Mini Mahou March.

Saint Tail uses stage magic to distract while stealing stolen goods and returning them to their proper owner while leaving calling cards for her crush who is the detective trying to catch her. Shadow Lady uses a magic eye shadow pallet to transform into different forms depending on the color, and steals, well, for fun until the plot happens, while the local cop is in love with her thief form. Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne transforms with assistance from her mascot to remove demons from pieces of art which makes the art disappears, and her rival is transformed boy who wants to stop her (and her best friend is the obligatory cop) D.N.Angel is the long accept magical boy, and he transforms into his older alter ego to steal magical artifacts made by the ancestor of the obligatory cop who has his own magical alter ego and there’s a love square Phantomirage has girls transform to steal evil jewels from the hearts of people transformed by (extra)evil magic cops, and the head of the magic cops eventually becomes a magical cop Tuxedo Mask just steals jewels because he’s looking for the physicals manifestation of his gf’s soul to get his memories back, and Phantom Ace was an idol who also stole people’s energy because he was a villain but look I gotta post what we have and it’s not a lot okay?

So uh. Complicated romances & police enemies with possible overlap in those categories, transformations range from ‘new dress’ to ‘new body’, stealing is good sometimes. It’s not my fault there aren’t more Kaitou MGs we deserve this sub-genre c’mon Toei. Pierrot? Anyway there’s always non magical girl kaitou like Skye from Harvest Moon or whatever is happening in Persona 5. Masks are generally not a magical girl thing beyond proto-senshi and a couple of weirder male-target series, but it is a thief thing so your call.

Is Captain Grace from Magical Girl Raising Project really the only magical girl pirate? We have Multiple cowboy/wild west gunslinger magical girls and somehow just Grace? Symphogear girls have some pirate outfit variants, and the Madoka gang had pirate alts in one of their mobile games back when, and for a series with Sailor in the name, you’d think there be more than one furoku of the senshi as ‘pirates’

https://symphogear.fandom.com/wiki/Senki_Kaizoku_Dan:_Kaij%C5%8D_Dai_Gekisen#Concept_Art_

https://mobage.booru.org/index.php?page=post&s=list&tags=mahou_shoujo_madoka_magica+pirate

Why yes I did just combine two topics magical girls are lacking and say go at it but jokes on ya’ll this was the first prompt I came up with. Both groups steal and look good doing it what more do you want a word list?

Yeah okay. Pirate Words:

ship

peg leg

bandana

hook hand

parrot

buccaneer

mermaid

sails

ropes

eyepatch

tricorne

skull & crossbones

saber

canon

pistol

gold & doubloons

treasure & chests

gems

flag

ocean

anchor

I have no prompts in me tonight. But I believe in you. (magical girl who scatters fake gold as a distraction while she robs rich people who underpay their workers and robin hoods the goods to said employees)

You are obligated to play fast and loose with the concept, and I know you'll be creative, so I hope you have a fun time!

#mini mahou march #mini mahou march week 4 #prompt #art prompt #magical girl #mahou shoujo #text #kaitou #pirate

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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How F9 Brings Back Justice for Han and Asian Inclusion

https://ift.tt/3hakkfH

This article contains F9 spoilers.

One thing is for certain about the Fast and Furious film franchise—it has been a wild ride. Other aspects of the Fast Saga are less certain. Although the F9 title definitively labels the latest film as the ninth installment, it’s actually the 10th film. Or the 11th. You could even say the 12th if you include the short film. It depends how you want to count it. For a franchise laden with car chase clichés, the Fast Saga makes a lot of long, winding detours.

Consider how these movies treat death. Letty (Michelle Rodriguez) set the precedent by ‘dying’ back in Fast & Furious (aka Fast & Furious 4) only to return in Fast & Furious 6, working for the other side. Coincidentally, at the end of that film, there was a major reveal about Han (Sung Kang). The character was introduced in the third film in the series, The Fast and The Furious: Tokyo Drift, but dies about three quarters of the way through the film. Yet he then reappears in the next three Fast and Furious movies, which were set before Tokyo Drift. The circumstances of his death were clarified in Fast & Furious 6. Jason Statham’s Deckard Shaw killed Han. Now those events have been clarified even more in F9, thanks to returning director Justin Lin. As it turns out, Han didn’t die at all.

F9 is the fifth Fast and Furious film directed by Lin, and by design, Han Jue’s story arc is the central thread for all five Lin installments. Tokyo Drift was Lin’s first Fast film, as well as the franchise’s sharpest turn. It was almost an entirely new cast in a new setting. Lin stayed on to direct the following three installments. To keep Han’s story going, he shifted gears and jumped back in time. Just like with Star Wars, Fast & Furious through Fast & Furious 6 comprised a prequel trilogy, so the order in which the Fast Saga films were released doesn’t match the story’s timeline. The second film, 2 Fast 2 Furious, is followed chronologically by the fourth, Fast & Furious. The next two are in order: Fast Five followed by Fast & Furious 6. Then comes the third release, Tokyo Drift where Han dies. Fast & Furious 6 and Tokyo Drift take place more or less at the same time. Even the beginning of Furious 7 overlaps with the final events of Tokyo Drift.

After stepping away from the franchise for its seventh and eight films, Lin is back in the driver’s seat in F9, which is why Han is also back. However, Han has always been riding with Lin, even predating his involvement in Fast and Furious lore…

High School Han

In 2002, Lin directed the critically-acclaimed Better Luck Tomorrow. That film also starred Sung Kang in the role of Han. It was a story about four overachieving Asian teenagers who start selling cheat sheets and subsequently fall into the gangster lifestyle of drugs and crime. It was loosely based on the murder of Stuart Tay. Tay was an Asian teenager who was killed by his fellow high schoolers when they thought he would betray a computer heist they were planning. The murderers were college-bound with Ivy League potential, and the story was branded as “the honor roll murder” by the Orange County register. In Lin’s interpretation, Han is one of the murderers.

Widely hailed as a benchmark film for Asian-American representation, Better Luck Tomorrow won the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance where it was rigorously celebrated by Roger Ebert, which led to MTV acquiring it.

When Lin took on Tokyo Drift, he wanted to add a cool Asian character into the mix. He tapped Kang to reprise the role of Han, albeit an incarnation of Han that was tailored to the franchise. The Better Luck Tomorrow Han is young and brash. Han is a teenager, although Kang was 30 he first played him. In Tokyo Drift, Han is older and wiser, a mentor to the film’s protagonist Sean (Lucas Black). Nevertheless, there are connections that make the character whole. The Better Luck Tomorrow Han is a chain smoker. In Fast Five, Han’s girlfriend Gisele (Gal Gadot in her first feature film). She attributes Han’s constant need to occupy his hand to being a former smoker. Tokyo Drift was only four years after Better Luck Tomorrow but the character of Han aged considerably.

Why Han Matters

The Fast Saga currently ranks as the seventh highest grossing film franchise in the world. And unlike the other top-earners, these movies were arguably the most diverse and inclusive from the onset. While the MCU has Black Panther and the upcoming Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings, and Star Wars introduced Finn (John Boyega) in its third trilogy, those casts remain predominantly white. In fact, the top 25 top grossing global franchises are all led by white casts. Fast and Furious is the exception. This makes Han the most prominent Asian character in a Hollywood franchise in the world.

What’s more, Han is cool. Until very recently, most Asian Hollywood roles were stereotypical or tokens. Han a richly developed character, even if Better Luck Tomorrow is disregarded. In Tokyo Drift, he’s a wealthy elite street racer with his own garage packed with awesome cars, attached to a club where he’s surrounded by gorgeous women. That was an unprecedented role for how Asian characters were presented in mainstream Hollywood entertainment in the 2000s.

Han’s relationship with Giselle is also extraordinary. While there is a long cinematic history of white men hooking up with Asian women, it was extremely rare for an Asian man to kiss white woman in Hollywood cinema. Han and Giselle become an item in 2009 with Fast & Furious. The following year, it was a huge deal for Jackie Chan’s interracial kiss with Amber Valletta in The Spy Next Door.

Jackie claimed it was his first onscreen kiss and he was already well past a hundred films to his credit at that time, although most of them were China-made. Han got to snog Wonder Woman onscreen before anyone else, including Chris Pine, and if that’s not cool, what is?

Lin carried another actor over from Better Luck Tomorrow. Jason Tobin played Virgil Hu, Han’s cousin and another one of the murderous teens. Virgil is the biggest punk of the gang. In Tokyo Drift, Tobin plays Earl Hu, one of Han’s friends and a master mechanic. Is the Hu surname a coincidence? Not likely for Lin. Tobin also appears as Young Jun in the Bruce Lee inspired TV series Warrior, where Lin is an executive producer alongside Lee’s daughter Shannon. Again Tobin plays a punk gangster. Tobin reprises Earl in F9.

Beyond Hollywood inclusion and representation where Han really matters is global box office. Hollywood was another COVID casualty. During the pandemic, the United States was dethroned as the biggest box office in the world. As of right now, China claims that title. Perhaps this is one reason F9 premiered there first, as well as in other Asian regions along with the Middle East.

Movies

Fast and Furious Timeline Explained (Including F9)

By David Crow

Movies

Hollywood Execs Are Crediting Fast and Furious with Growing Embrace of Diversity

By David Crow

It’s been out for over a month and has already grossed $203 million in China alone, plus an additional $8.8 million in the other markets at the time of the U.S. premiere. Thanks to this, F9 is already the fourth highest earner in the world in 2021. It is right behind Godzilla v Kong, but both of them are trailing behind two Chinese blockbusters that most American are completely unaware of yet, Detective Chinatown 3 and Hi, Mom.

The Fast Saga’s rise has a lot to do with its international appeal, culminating with winning over Chinese audiences. It was under Lin’s steady hand that the franchise became a global player. Adding Han brought Asian representation to an already diverse cast. Tokyo Drift passed an international milestone where the film made more outside of the U.S. in the foreign markets—$33.9 million more. This disparity widened with each successive movie, so by the time Fast & Furious 6 rolled around, the international earnings accounts for nearly 70 percent of the total box office, and the door was open to that lucrative Chinese market.

Furious 7 was the first of the franchise to be shown in China and blew up there with a record-setting $390 million take, earning the title as the biggest non-Chinese film in the country at the time. That helped to elevate the worldwide box office past $1.5 billion, with over 76 percent of it coming from international earnings. The Fate of the Furious did even better, breaking its own record as China’s top-earning foreign film with $392 million, and the international box office accounted for 81 percent of the worldwide take.

Lin is smart to bring Han back. And if he really wants to appeal to that Chinese market, he’ll boost Virgil Hu’s role in F10. Han is Korean. Hu is Chinese. Tobin has appeared in Chinese films previously, including Jackie Chan’s Rob-B-Hood so the Chinese audience is familiar with him.

Justice for Han

At the end of the previous installment, The Fate of the Furious, Shaw is awkwardly accepted into Dom’s cookout. Fans of Han Jue and the franchise were outraged. How does Han’s murderer become part of the club? This triggered the Twitter movement #justiceforhan. Now that we know Shaw didn’t murder Han, it’s up to Lin to decide what happens in F10, which he is slated to direct next (it still doesn’t resolve Shaw’s acceptance at the barbecue because Dom’s gang still believed Han was dead then).

Perhaps it’s all some grand scheme by Mr. Nobody (Kurt Russell). With the Fast Saga, so much is uncertain, even Han’s name.

For F10, a confrontation between Han and Shaw seems inevitable, especially with F9’s post-credits cameo showing Shaw. Perhaps the next film will finally give enough closure for Shaw to earn his seat at the table, or for Han to banish him from it.

At the end of F9, when the car drives up to fill the empty seat at the barbecue table, it’s uncertain who the driver is. Maybe it’s Jakob (John Cena), Dom’s newly introduced brother in F9. Maybe it’s Shaw coming back for seconds, or maybe Brian O’Conner (although reviving the late Paul Walker digitally again would be tacky now). Maybe it’s even Giselle (sure, Giselle ‘died’ in Fast & Furious 6 but if Gadot came back, just think of how many tickets they’d sell). Fast and Furious is full to twisty turns, like any good car chase. But with Lin in the driver’s seat, Han is sure to get the justice he deserves.

F9: The Fast Saga opened only in theaters on Friday, June 25.

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The post How F9 Brings Back Justice for Han and Asian Inclusion appeared first on Den of Geek.

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ziracona · 4 years

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Do you have your own headcanons for the newer characters? I try to imagine them interacting with the rest of the characters and after reading ILM everything you write is canon for me now (been dissapointed with the recent tome).

I have some! Though except for the Stranger Things kids, I don’t know any of the new ones as well and I haven’t written for them, so I don’t have a ton for most of them.

I think for Ash, being in the realm is weird, because he’s been through his share of hell, but like, Ash is from a Horror-/comedy/? And there’s a lot of overlap, but if you lived in a horror comedy world and went to psychological horror torture horror world, it would be some whiplash, even for a seasoned dude. It’s not that he hasn’t been through horrible stuff, it’s that it felt different before. The realm is such a grind. It’s an unending cycle. And Ash is used to not being able to outrun trouble, but he’s used to that meaning life is a fight. Now, there’s nothing he can really do, and danger means constantly running and struggling and failing. So I think that would be hard to cognitively get used to. Because of his personality (as I understand it--I’ve only seen Evil Dead, & I’d do more research before actually writing him) though, I think he would weather it surprisingly well, and be the kind who can crack jokes and be cocky and fun even there. Because of that, I think he and Meg would vibe really well and get along, and so would he and Ace.

Ash likes to tell stories about all the wild stuff he did before the realm. Some of them believe him (Claudette, Meg, Dwight, Steve)--or mostly do but think he exaggerates (Laurie, Quentin, Nancy), some think he’s super lying (Jane, Jake, Min, Zarina), and a lot fall in between. They all enjoy them though, because he’s a great storyteller and very engaging.

Ash isn’t exactly a support unit /at all/, but the fact he lost a hand pre-realm is surprisingly helpful to the group in a support area. Any time someone in the group is wounded outside a trial and has to recover, he’s way better than anyone else at helping them get used to operating without whatever they’ve lost, and just seeing how well Ash can carry his weight doing complex stuff like fixing a gen even down a hand alleviates a lot of fear for them about what would happen if one of them got /gravely/ hurt. This is wild for Ash, because he sure wasn’t much of a support member/usually isn’t, but he goes with it and is glad to help.

Ash greatly dislikes going against Rin. She hits way too close to home. He’s pretty desensitized to gore and horror and violence from his life even pre-realm, but his first experience with horror involved his sister and his girlfriend being attacked and then turning into monsters and trying to kill him, and he was a baby--like 21 at the time, super young adult--and it was extremely traumatic. He almost died because his girlfriend kept seeming like herself and the horror and gore would vanish from her demon-zombie form and she’d be her again, and he’d think he could save her, but she was dead the whole time. The way that Rin looks like a horrible smiling monster viciously hungry for your pain and then will suddenly flash to looking like a heartbroken teenager crying over what she’s done is way too reminiscent of that. It’s literally the only thing in the realm that /really/ shakes him.

(Nancy, Steve, Yui, Zarina, and Cherly HCs under the cut)

Nancy and Steve are really glad they ended up there together instead of alone (I mean, they aren’t happy the other is in hell, but like, it really helps them both to have the emotional support of person they knew from before with them). Nancy adjusts to the realm faster than Steve as in takes it in stride and learns faster, because she’s more cool headed, but it’s about equal levels of awful and slowly eating at them both. They depend on each other a lot to keep up their spirits and to talk about old memories and the loved ones back home.

Nancy gets along really well with Kate, Claudette, Yui, Jeff, and Laurie, but pretty well with them all. Steve also fits in just fine, but gets along especially well with Claudette, Meg, David, Quentin, and Min and Laurie (eventually).

Laurie and the ST kids bond and get a lot of relief from being from similar times. This is especially nice for Laurie, who hasn’t seen anyone from her time in a long time, and feels very lost and last-man-standing because of it. Since the ST kids are from only a few years after Laurie, they get to talk about a lot of the same stuff.

Steve tries to pick Laurie up because he’s bowled over by how cool and strong she is. She doesn’t even notice. When she /finally/ does like a week after he starts trying, she goes, “Are you trying to hit on me /here/?” bc dating in the realm is beyond wild to Laurie who has been in survival mood since 1978 and not even /thought/ about changing that setting. They’re in a group at the time and Steve is so embarrassed that even though he’s flirty, he doesn’t flirt with anyone for like a whole month. This is actually really good for him, because Steve is the kind of person who doesn’t really know how to /not/ be in a relationship, and solo time helps him build a lot of self-worth and self-confidence outside of any kind of relationship at all. Laurie feels kinda bad he took it so hard and tries to be nice to him, and eventually they end up p close friends and it’s very good for both of them.

Nancy is excited to learn fighting tips from David, Yui, and Laurie and pursues it with a vigor. They are all impressed but especially Yui is. Nancy’s very passionate and forceful when she has to be and has a lot of pride, but is also very willing to be humble when she thinks she should be/someone knows more than her about whatever area, and Yui really likes that about her and is interested by it, and she and Nancy kind of slowly become best friends. They vibe really well because they operate similarly.

One of the ST kids mentions a song Quentin likes and he gets really excited they might be into his kind of music, and then finds out Nancy isn’t deep into any specific genre and Steve likes top 50 hits and they’re both like “It sucks for you it’s us and not Jonathan bc you have the exact same taste” and Quentin’s like :’-] “damn it.” He definitely teases Steve for some of the bops he likes, but like, in a lighthearted friend way, and it’s a rapport they get--throwing not-seriously-meant-at-all jabs about music that always devolves into “That one’s actually really good,” “Oh yeah?” “Oh totally you’d really like it. The baseline is like--” “--oh is it crunch?” “Oh, /hell/ yeah.”

Yui is super unhappy about being stuck here, because she dedicated a lot of her life to being a spokesperson about violence against women and stopping it, and now she’s trapped in hell where she and everyone else get cut up and killed constantly and she can do very little to help them. That manifests as anger instead of depression though, and she is a /spitfire/ in trials. Girl will throw hands at the drop of a hat if it has even a small chance of helping the gang make it out. Some of the killers (Legion, Michael, Pig, Wraith) start to dread getting her because she /will/ kick their ass. Like, she won’t win, ever, because the realm is stacked, but she /will/ injure you. She’s like, the one killers start to request /not/ to get.

Some of the killers fight back at this though, and Yui ends up getting super tunneled and injured and soloed out to be hurt, and even tortured a few times, and that is really hard for her. I mean, torture and violence are hard on anyone. But not only does she get punished for fighting as hard as she can for her friends in a hopeless situation by enduring a bunch of awful violence, she also feels like she can’t be candid about how bad it was or ask for much help because she doesn’t want anyone to think she’s beaten or weak or will be deterred by this, or for them to see her any differently--she /really/ doesn’t want to be seen as a victim. She’s a fighter. And she keeps fighting, though she slacks off a little gradually with how aggressive she is both to help the team and because how much she’s enduring as punishment is unbearable, which makes her feel a lot of self-loathing and like she’s letting herself down.

A lot of people try to help her because they know she’s not doing so well, but this makes her feel worse because she doesn’t want them to notice at all. Quentin finally is able to get her to talk a little by just being /super/ candid about how he’s felt about stuff that’s happened to him, even the ugly feelings, and sharing details/vulnerability with her, and that helps her a /lot/ because there’s at least one person she can talk to some. She doesn’t have anyone she tells everything or most of everything to until much later though, after Nancy becomes her friend. Once they’re really, really close, she eventually tells Nancy the truth, then immediately wishes she hadn’t, but Nancy handles it really well and gives her good advice and is super honest about how much Yui’s strength and selflessness inspire her, and that hearing all this she’s been going through and how awful it’s been and that she’s still doing all this in spite of what a war that is inside her just makes her even more impressed and see how utterly outclassed she is in bravery and how much work she has to do to get close to where Yui is, and it helps a whole lot, and they were already best friends, but they are /incredibly/ close after that night. Yui also opens up more to some of the others and is more okay asking for help, although she stays pretty guarded about how hard things feel.

Once she hears what Rin is, Yui feels terrible for her. She tries to keep small gifts on her she has no idea if Rin would like or even be /able/ to enjoy, and when she gets Rin in a trial, she’ll leave them for her/in her pockets. She has no idea if this means anything, but she’s miserable for the Onryo and wants to be able to help, even if she really can’t. She’s similarly very sympathetic to any killer she finds out was lied to or is not in control of their own actions, like Lisa and Philip. Detests all the serial killer/torture killers to a level on par with the vicious hatred the creator of the “ i fucking hate jurgen leitner “ video feels towards Jurgen Leitner. Gets along really well with Kate, Tapp, and David bc they similarly want JUSTICE and cannot get it.

Zarina shows up in realm and is like “Un-fucking believable. I try to uncover the truth about a cover up and I get kidnapped by an eldritch demon. That figures.” She’s distressed life has yet again been like “No, f you in particular Zarina,” but she is determined to help the others stuck there, and /very/ determined to find a way to escape. Gets along well with Jane, Jake, Dwight, and Adam right away, because she and Jane have a lot of “Oh something like that happened to me!” kinds of stories to share with each other, Adam’s curiosity vibes with hers, and Dwight and Jake lead the “Escape Planning Time” discussions.

After she learns enough second-hand about Dwight to know he was way less cool before and fixed his life, she likes him even more and has a kind of kinship with him and mentions how she kind of hid from who she was and lost herself in even feeling shame about her identity and how hard but invaluable becoming who she is now was, and how proud she is of herself. It’s a super relief for Dwight to meet someone as cool and good as her who comes up to him and goes “Hey we’re the same!” because he still worries about himself and how he’s doing. Gives him a lot of peace of mind and they are bros.

When she realizes Caleb Quinn is a killer in the realm, Zarina is thrown for a huge loop. She’s still curious if the stories about him are lies, but uh, getting murdered by him doesn’t exactly make her feel very warmly towards him and she kind of loses a lot of enthusiasm about it, until she hears him mutter his old boss’s name (which she remembers from her investigation) hatefully under his breath while attacking Jeff, as if he is talking /to/ his boss, and she starts running observation point with some of the others and figures out that he’s hallucinating who he sees. Eventually she executes an elaborate mid-trial “Hey you’re being lied to” that works well enough he actually figures out the Entity has been manipulating him hardcore. It does not change much on their end, sadly, once he knows? Caleb is out of rotation for a while, then goes back into it with very little change in how he hunts them, although he is somewhat less brutal/isn’t excessively cruel, and is more scarred than before. He also definitely avoids Zarina specifically and if he has a go after this person or her choice, always goes after the other person. He’s a long time violent criminal so he’s ofc not like, reformed by being informed he was being used, but Caleb hates being used more than anything else, and it’s happened a lot, so in a “honor among” something way, he tries to pay her back by only hunting her when there isn’t someone else to hunt. She is simultaneously annoyed by this and curious/hopeful that maybe it means there is some slim chance the dude has some humanity left, but she remains unsure.

Zarina joins the support squad of Adam, Claudette, and Quentin during trials, and enjoys hanging with them and picking up skills from the more seasoned members.

She is also /super/ interested in trying to solve the realm and how it works, and asks people for detail on everything they know and takes copious notes. She’s fascinated by Benedict Baker, whom she hasn’t met, and starts collecting everything he has written that she can find, and begins journaling some in a similar fashion to record things she discovers or guesses. She likes to interview her friends about themselves, and they find it kind of awkward and odd at first, but get to really appreciating having their experiences listened to and recorded. It makes them feel more like their existences and suffering and hopes and pasts all matter.

Cheryl was traumatized before even /getting/ to the realm. She’s pretty closed off about her personal backstroy, because uh, it’s a /lot/, and it’s heavy af. She’s kind of nervous and paranoid people will want to use or hurt her if they know what she is, because it’s happened in the past, so she’s very skittish about deep relationships and divulging the truth.

This nature makes her click pretty well with Laurie, whose interests explicitly do not involve prying. They’ve also both been through a lot of trauma and don’t like people to know the details, so they are pretty happy just being silently in each others’ company.

After she has an especially bad nightmare she wakes up from screaming about the fourth time, Quentin hesitantly starts trying to get to know her and walk the balance beam of “I want to know what’s going on so I can help” and “I don’t want to pry.” He and she confide in each other some, albeit pretty vaguely, but it helps. They’ve both got a lot of guilt over stuff that isn’t their fault and endless nightmares and are very empathetic/altruistic people, and it’s probably that overlap that gets Min and Nea god-tier invested in Cheryl’s welfare after a couple months of her steadily proving she is not getting very close to anyone, and almost seems to think she deserves this hell and will never escape it.

On basically wild impulse alone and too much chaotic energy, Nea and Min decide to make looking out for and forcing Cheryl to hang w them a pet project. She’s super confused and nervous at first, and doesn’t want to drag anyone down with her, but the girls are nothing if not persistent, and she kind of slowly comes more out of her shell and starts to laugh and smile some and very slowly decides they don’t have any ulterior motives and so far nothing bad has happened to them because of her, so maybe it’s okay. David and Kate also like Cheryl a lot--initially probably because she reminds them some of Quentin, who they’re both very fond of, but then after they know her better just because they really like her herself as a person. Everyone likes Cheryl, but some are much better than others at trying to be friends with her. A lot of the high-energy ones kind of are overwhelming for her, at least at first, and she’s got so much despair and guilt and disappointment in herself that the less vocal ones she tends to read as not liking her even though they’re just quiet. This slowly improves though, and she ends up much happier and less alone.

When some of them finally get /part/ of her life story, everyone is overwhelmingly horrified for her. The whole group turns into a Cheryl Protection Squad for the next like 6 months. She is overwhelmed and confused and mildly distressed by this, but also happy and moved on a “I want to go find somewhere to cry alone” kind of level because after all she’s been through, it’s dragged back to hell again she’s the happiest she’s been since she was a kid.

I’m gonna stop here bc that’s a lot, but hope you enjoyed these! : )

#dead by daylight #long post #writing #dbd #nancy wheeler #cheryl mason #zarina kassir #yui kimura #ash williams #steve harrington #ditoworld #ask #headcanons #In Living Memory #In Living Memory (fic)#not sure if that's relevant but since I think of this in terms of in an ILM au I guess I'll tag it lol #: ) thanks for the ask!

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luluwantskisses · 5 years

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I've been thinking about this all day and I realized just what a tough job it is to write skam France's season 5 truly is, and this isn't going to be all praises and or all bash, feel free to scroll away, these are just personal opinions after I had some time to revisit a few of my favorite clips from s6 (and anyone who follows me knows I've had opinions this season)

Okay, so first, let's talk audience. Skam France is a remake, specifically, it is the first out of 7 remakes, it's a fandom that has 8 versions of the same show and unlike, say, the office, the fandom between these remakes may not be a perfect circle, it overlaps far more than any other remakes ive ever encountered. So step 1, there's been very little"surprises" for years now. These structures are very predicable, fans can anticipate hell week and reunions and breakups like a seasoned farmer predicting yield. And who led the way in all this? The french version, and fans of the show are people who had time to get used to the idea of a remake, and had time to watch other remakes grow. A lot of people either watched the original, or went back and watched the original, especially the international audiences. So here's audience 1,fans who loves the original, or even other remakes, and want to see more of it. They look at s5, look at the show that started this remake trend, and sees it as an og revival, the closet they'll get to the gang coming back together sorta way.

Next, there's no way around this, but skamfr blew up with season 3, and full disclosure, i am one of those people. So we get drawn in and Elu is just beautifully written, I've never seen a story like theirs before, and it's sadly representation that I've been craving. And i go back and watched the other seasons and good or bad, skam has tackled some hard to swallow pills in their seasons. So here's audience 2, people who came and stayed for good representation, who saw what they related to and stayed to watch what other people might relate to, and the skam format is just so good at getting you inside someone's head, it's easy to walk a mile in someone's shoes.

So s5 picked a really, really good topic. We learned right off the bat our main has health problems, and I've never seen many main characters with disabilities before (full metal alchemist is the only one that comes to mind). And we get to discover his journey navigating a world where not everything is catered to suit him anymore, where his disabilities will be a constant reminder as he goes through even the little tasks in life. And the show did some amazing clips, first with the 7am ones all in a row, we are so feeling the denial, the anger, and then this shame. I also love the clip when Arthur first visit the association, and he claps, but everyone else does jazz hands. It's a small thing but shows how different things are and how much he still has to learn. It's truly a community, with its own customs and culture. Another scene I loved is how his interactions with le gang progressed. Le gang went from ignoring his new disability like nothings happening, to joking about his ears, and they had this teaching moment with the boys choosing a dark, overstimulated activity, laser tag, and not fully considering Arthur's POV. This causes tension with friends and Arthur isolated himself for a weekend. Le gang reacts by lying and getting caught and chewed out. This is all so perfect and I loved the growth and how real everyone was. Arthur calling them out? Perfect 👌

And then things starts to deviate from what audience 1 and 2 wants. See, if this show aired on the CW, no one would bat an eye at the love triangle, but the first 6 episodes were set up so well, and there was this foreshadowing of his dad's abuse, his dissatisfaction with his career choice, but the story pivots, ignoring who they're showing this to.

Audience 1 has their bar set on a show that sparked the most remakes in history in 3 short years, that is quite the pedestal to live up to. Audience 1 hasn't had a surprise in years and this is a brand new thing, naturally people would want to stick to what they loved before, and what people loved before was how different show is, how refreshingly they approached certain tough topics.

Audience 2 treats the show like it's an educational show, it's not what we see on the CW or abcfamily or any other teen dramas hollywood churns out at a dime a dozen, therefore this love triangle? It's conforming to the same things we get everywhere else and that's the most condemning thing to audience 2. So now, unless you came to s5 with a fresh mindset and don't fall into either of the above groups, you suddenly feel betrayed, this is not what you had been promised, even if the show had made no promises. so what could've been treated as a minor seasonal slump turns into a lot of anger and hate. I'm not saying the format of instant gratification, or the wild rumors that ran around didn't escalate things, but this was a very specific, very demanding audience the writers had to write for, and unfortunately, they took an easy route, and lost some of the key ingredients that made their audience love them in the first place.

Wow you probably didn't read all the way here, that was a lot of rambling, cheers

#skam france #skamfr season 5 #skam fr 5

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thanksjro · 5 years

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Last Stand of the Wreckers, Issue #3: Garrus-9 is Fun for the Whole Family

Noticed a little something as I was reading- in issue #1, Roberts is credited for contributing to the story. However, in issue #2 and on, he’s credited as a writer alongside Roche.

Maybe it’s just a change in the how the credits were being labelled within IDW, because it never seems to stay consistent between series, but that’s still quite the jump. He’s accumulating power much faster than I originally thought. How delightful, and also terrifying.

Getting back to the story, we open up this issue with a flashback: two years ago, Overlord deigned it necessary to reunite Shockwave’s head with his body. Now, this was still nearly a year after he’d first taken over Garrus-9, and Shockwave can’t help but question the wait.

Back when Megatron still had Overlord under him, he had Shockwave slap something called an “Achilles virus” into the guy. This virus made it impossible for Overlord to comprehend any weaknesses Megatron might have- something positively devastating to a tactician as ruthless as Overlord. He, of course, wants the thing removed. Shockwave agrees.

With how many of the IDW universe’s problems this chunky purple fuck is responsible for, I’d honestly be more surprised if helping Overlord DIDN’T help him further his own agenda in some way.

Once Shockwave frees up Overlord’s processors, he’ll be free to go and cause more mayhem, while Overlord keeps doing his thing on Garrus-9. Shockwave, because he’s a smarty-pants, knows what he’s up to- he’s trying to goad Megatron into coming to see him, by way of ultraviolence.

When I was a little kid- we’re talking no more than five- if I wanted my parents to come see me after I’d woken up in the morning, I’d do this god-awful thing where I’d shriek at the top of my lungs repeatedly and then hide under my blankets acting as if I’d been sleeping like a perfect little angel the whole time. This feels a lot like that, except Overlord’s been screaming for three years.

Back in the present, we get a taste of some dramatic irony, by way of Fisitron’s fanboy datalogs.

You’re never going to guess what’s happened.

Since the ping-pong ball Verity was riding in smashed right into where Overlord likes to hang out, it’s looking somewhat grim for them. Not that things are looking any better over here.

Guzzle isn’t much of a team player, it would seem.

Springer’s worried that the others were DOA, but Twin Twist seems to think things are alright.

And he would know, I suppose.

Over in the Pit, Overlord’s greeting his new guests. Rotorstorm tries to break the tension with a joke. It actually goes over pretty well with Overlord.

Still, it’s a tough crowd.

Back over with Wrecker team A, the boys have just blown up a hallway to buy themselves a little time. Well, Guzzle blew up the hallway, since he’s a tank, but the others were there for moral support.

Things have really hit the fan, and Springer makes the call to split up and look for clues get help. Guzzle and Kup pair up and run for it, which seems appropriately themed, while Twin Twist decides it’s time to break out the alt-mode and dig through the floor so they can get to the Autobot prisoners. Springer’s not too sure about that, seeing as Twin Twist’s hurt, but he says they can take it. Yes, they.

After that painful scene transition, Overlord implores the Wreckers before him to surrender. Perceptor, having a case of terminal bad-ass disease, orders Pyro to keep Verity safe- which he does by stuffing her into his chest?- while he and the others attempt to bare-knuckle box Overlord into submission.

I’m not kidding, he’s just shoving her in there.

While Perceptor and the gang commit suicide, Twin Twist’s just finished drilling, and it’s looking like it’s a bit more of a drop than he was expecting. Luckily, Springer swoops in and catches him before he can take any fall damage.

Both they and Impactor land safely on the floor of an energy reactor, and it looks like they’ve got company.

The company is Kick-Off’s corpse. Guess Overlord kinda sucks at rewarding people.

As Impactor and Springer discuss Kick-Off’s very brief stint as a prison gladiator, Twin Twist makes the horrific discovery that they’ve set off a defense mechanism, and if they don’t get out of there pronto, they’re gonna be robo-toast.

Overlord gets word of these guys running around in the energy reactor as, he kicks Percy and pals’ ass. Repeatedly. Delighted that there are more toys to play with, he makes a prison-wide announcement: anyone who brings him the head of a Wrecker can leave Garrus-9.

I don’t think Percy likes that idea too much.

Without any further ado, Overlord sicks the entire prison populace on the Wreckers. Perceptor, ever the brainiac, buys them a little time by blowing up a fuel tank that managed to survive the ping-pong ball crashing. The Wreckers book it out of the Pit, ready to head for Aequitas. Only one problem- Ironfist is having a breakdown. Perceptor is surprisingly considerate about the whole thing.

Like, this is about as much as anyone could ask for in such a dangerous situation. Of course, Ironfist is a bit too hung up on the complete annihilation of a skull he just witnessed to appreciate Percy’s kindness.

Here’s the thing about fanboys; they have a bit of a habit of putting their heroes on pedestals.

No, the adventuring doesn’t happen until 2012, Ironfist, and you aren’t going to be there for all that.

Seems like Overlord’s presence on Garrus-9 has sort of smashed Ironfist’s dreams of grandeur. Though given the constantly-changing roster, and the fact that Ironfist probably knows more about the Wreckers’ escapades than most, one would think he’d at least be prepared for something this wild to be a possibility.

This whole spouting off attracts Topspin, who berates Ironfist for being a baby. He doesn’t even know why the guy got brought along on this mission, seeing as none of the established Wreckers voted him on. Ironfist is just sort of here. Before we can get into all that though, Perceptor breaks their little squabble up, because we just don’t have time for that right now.

Over with Guzzle and Kup, we’re descending a ladder and reveling in implications, as Guzzle notes how he had a bunch of friends die in a rescue attempt similar to this one. Kup mentions that he hopes the guy being rescued was worth it. Guzzle says that it depends on who you ask.

So we’ve got an angry little tank dude and the old man who’s responsible for several of his friends’ demises, working together, without any other supervision, in an insanely dangerous place filled with murderous Decepticons and high places that don’t follow OSHA regulations. What could possibly go wrong?

Back with Percy and the boys, we finally get the down-low on what Topspin and Twin Twist’s whole deal is. Turns out they’ve got a rare and potentially exploitable manufacturing error- they’ve got branched sparks, which means that their nervous systems overlap to a point where they can feel each other’s pain. This seems like it ought to discourage one from joining the Wreckers, but since when have the Transformers ever been about self-preservation?

Look at that face. It’s like he knows what the narrative’s gearing up towards.

Perceptor’s found a funny part of the wall, which gives him a pretty good feeling that Aequitas is right behind it. It’s at this point that the others start asking just who the hell Aequitas is, and then Pyro remembers he’s still got Verity trapped inside his chest cavity.

Verity is released from the torso jail, a little banged up and a lot pissed off about being forgotten. She starts saying some rather uncalled-for things about the dead before she catches herself, and we get a bit of an insight into Wrecker ideology.

Perceptor has busted through the wall while Topspin’s explaining the group philosophy, and we finally find what Fortress Maximus’ has been up to while all this has been going down.

The Decepticons have been using ol’ Max here as a lock pick, seeing as he wouldn’t just GIVE Overlord the code to the chamber. Perceptor starts cutting the poor guy out of all the cabling he’s hooked up to, and everyone once again questions just what’s up with Aequitas that the Decepticons want to get to him so badly.

Speaking of Decepticons, they’re collecting in droves in the hallway, just itching to rip off some Wrecker heads for a free ticket out of Garrus-9. Perceptor unhooks Fort Max, passes his limbless, eyeless body off to be carried by the two largest friends at his disposal, and the chamber opens up.

This is about the time that the story catches up with the other team of Wreckers, the guys who were trapped in the energy reactor. Yeah, that branched spark plot point is about to get very relevant.

Dentists are the worst, even in space.

And that’s the end of issue #3.

#transformers #jro #last stand of the wreckers #issue 3 #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #story plotting #comic script writing #wreckers trilogy

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silverquillsideas · 5 years

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Hi:) May I ask what your personal interpretation of the Bf ending is? Did Ash chose to die or not? If he did, what do you think was the reason for his decision? And did he believe Eiji's letter? Sorry if this has been asked before and I bother you with these questions...

Hello Anons! It’s not a bother at all! Thanks for asking! I’ll club these two together since there’s going to be a lot of overlapping parts.

I feel like the more I try to delve deeper into why and how the ending was written the way it was, the more number of interpretations open up. I’ve talked about my views on the ending in the above posts, and as for whether he believed Eiji’s letter, my answer is yes, definitely. I’ll elaborate why below.

First off, when I read the manga and later, GoL, it always occurred to me that Ash’s death wasn’t immediate, that he had time to drag himself back to the library and collapse slowly from blood loss, and the same is repeated by Sing in his musings in GoL “in the long long hours before death, as blood slowly drained out of your body”….so, I believe that the stab wasn’t lethal, and that Ash’s death was, ultimately, by his choice.

Now coming to why he chose what he did. These interpretations are entirely my own, and they are called ‘interpretations’ for a reason, there will be other equally valid points held by the fandom, and that’s completely okay. This is just how I see it. I re-read the manga recently, and this time, I tried to look closer at all the subtle hints at how the ending was kind of… foreshadowed in a way?

I’ll begin with the way Ash was constructed as a character : he was multifaceted, complex, a genius with superhuman reflexes and intellect, he rejected all kinds of authority and the law, since he never had reason to trust them all his life. Ash conditioned himself to be ruthless and put on a hard front at all times, since that was the only way he could have survived in the world he was thrown into from the tender age of seven or eight. He used his physical beauty as a weapon, a shield to disarm opponents, so that they never got any hint of his lethal side until it was too late; it was simply another tool in his fight for survival. Eiji is probably one of the first and only ones to get a measure of what Ash really is like, by the time we get to the arc of Shorter’s death. He comments on this :

Curiously enough, we, as readers get to know this along with Eiji, that Ash has this duality to him : on one hand, he is the cold and ruthless killer and gang-boss, the wild, untamable Ash Lynx. on the other hand, only with Eiji, he can be the carefree 17 year old Aslan, the little boy Griff loved, who’s scared of pumpkins and gets flustered when teased, and loves to bicker with Eiji over silly things.

Its this humane side of Ash we all latch onto. The facade of a killer that Ash has to put on for the rest of the world, falls apart when he’s with Eiji, and we can see that : we realise that it’s a shield he has to hold up for his survival so that the truly compassionate, softer side of him can survive. Eiji sees through it, we see through it. But does Ash? His self image is exceedingly negative.

This becomes a recurring point of arguments between Eiji and Ash throughout the manga. A constant pull and push of opinions on who Ash truly is, who he can be. Eiji tries so hard to pull out the humane side of Ash, the one who is Aslan, back to the surface, so that Ash Lynx may not forget who he really once was. Eiji lets Ash be vulnerable, he makes him laugh, allows him to be silly, he tells him that it’s okay to be scared, to be hurt, because Ash is deeply hurt, only he has trained himself to never acknowledge that even to himself.

Does Ash consider himself entirely worthless? I beg to differ. He relies on his intelligence, his skills and capabilities, and he had confidence in them. He has his gang members to protect and lead, even before Eiji shows up. He has his pride as a boss, and his constant refusal to be controlled by Dino or other characters who hold authority (and consequently, abuse their powers to further their own greed).

But was that enough to hold out till the end? More than the battles with Dino or Mannerheim or Foxx, I think Ash had to fight bigger battles with himself, about his own perception of what it means to be accepting of who you are as a person, and what you choose to believe in within yourself. Throughout the manga, we see this constant warring : we have literally everyone telling him that keeping Eiji by his side, is him being selfish, that Eiji isn’t there to salvage Ash’s guilt, that letting him go would be better for both of them. And Ash is conflicted, he wants to have this connection, this friendship with Eiji above all else, it becomes his single motivator in the entire second half of the manga : to protect and keep Eiji safe

By the time Yut Lung manipulates Ash into giving up Banana Fish and go into Dino’s captivity for Eiji’s safety, Ash is already too far gone on his bond with Eiji. he pulls the trigger without a moment’s hesitation. If it meant keeping a loved one safe at the cost of his own death, Ash was ready to make that choice, perhaps for a very long time.

Ash was someone whose actions always did the talking. The fact that he had allowed himself to care, to demand or crave for himself the comfort of a selfless friendship, or even love, is more of an indicator of him slowly growing to value himself as a person, to try and love himself a little more. He acknowledges this openly to Blanca : that there is nothing that made him happier than being with Eiji, of knowing that at least one person in the world had tried to see himself for who he really was, had tried to make Ash see that too.

The conversation between Ash and Eiji about the leopard in the mountaintop, about Ash’s views on death and what it means to live, is one of my favourite moments in the manga. Ash had never feared death, but he had never wanted to die himself. Even though, at numerous points in his life, death had seemed like a peaceful, enticing alternative, compared to the hell he was going through. Ash states that he views himself as the leopard, trudging on and on upwards to the summit, until it collapsed. His conflict was on whether the leopard was facing downwards or up? Was he trying to came back home, or simply go on until he could no longer carry on?

The journey of the leopard paralleled Ash’s own. All his life, he had been forced to go on a steep, uphill climb, against whatever harsh trials his life threw at him. In the end, would he be too tired to carry on? Too tired that he would want to give up? Or Would he still have the strength to try and find his way back down?

Eiji pulls him back once more : he reminds Ash of his own humanity, that people were not obligated to remain as the leopard in the story forever. In the end, we are all human beings who can have a choice, to find our way back home. And Ash, after a thoughtful pause, agrees with him.

But agreeing with an idea on principle is a far cry from putting that into practice.

As the arcs progress, Eiji gets shot, and Blanca again harshly reminds him of what his reality was, that Ash and Eiji’s worlds were, as he saw, too far apart for them to exist together. And Ash is torn by guilt. His one objective, of keeping Eiji safe, had somehow started backfiring. He pleads with God, to take him instead, in exchange for Eiji’s safety. And that was when I personally got the foreshadowing, that maybe the ending could only be either one way or the other.

It’s interesting that Eiji voices almost identical words, that he’d take Ash’s place any day if he could, that he wished Ash would never have to hold a gun anymore, before he takes a bullet for Ash without a minute’s hesitation

There was always a residual sense of guilt with both Ash and Eiji about Shorter’s death. Eiji breaks down crying in front of Sing, and he wasn’t even an instigator in all the events that happened. I can’t imagine how much more Ash would’ve been carrying around with the knowledge that he was the one to pull the trigger, under extreme duress or otherwise.

That brings me to the involvement of Lao. Shorter’s death had triggered a mistrust between the Chinese gang and Ash. Even though Sing, because of knowing the truth, had ceased blaming Ash altogether, Lao didn’t go anywhere near. His only goal was to protect his brother, and his hatred for Ash magnified when Ash pointed a trigger on Sing in the mad rampage immediately after Eiji was shot. Sing understood Ash’s rage, and he apologized and desperately attempted to make up for what he saw as a ‘betrayal’ from the Chinese side. But Lao, stubbornly refused to acknowledge Ash, even though Sing tried multiple times to reason with him. Had Yut Lung’s childish grudge against Eiji not prompted him to abuse Lao’s familial ties with Sing, had Lao been more reasonable, had Sing communicated with him better after the end of all the fighting…. The list of ‘what ifs’ go on.

In the end, Ash’s decision was prompted by all these moments adding up together. He had vowed just the day before to Blanca, that this time, he’d never see Eiji again, in order to keep him from harm’s way. Did that mean that ultimately he never learnt to love himself? That’s difficult to answer.

I believe that to some extent, he did realise how much he was valued as a person : by his friends, his gang, Max, Blanca, Cain, Shorter, and most of all Eiji. He never admitted out loud how much Eiji meant to him and vice versa, but it was always proven by their actions and confirmed by the words of those who were close to them.

Ash knew how much it hurt him to see Eiji wounded because of him, and I get the inkling that he could at least guess that Eiji would be equally devastated if their places were reversed. But he ultimately chose to eliminate himself from the equation : the solution, according to him, that would keep all the danger away from everyone he wanted to keep safe. That is the dark side of love, of how far you’re willing to go to protect those you hold dear.

Just as Eiji took the bullet for him, just as Ash himself had no hesitation in pulling the trigger back then, I see this last choice also as a final act of sorts, keeping good on his prayer to God : Eiji’s safety in exchange for his own. It wasn’t a perfect decision by any means, there were n number of ways a different choice could’ve been as good, but I feel than in his final moments, Ash was really too weary to keep on pushing forward.

It brings me to your question, anon, in the end, was love enough to save him from himself? Did Eiji’s constant attempts to bring out Aslan, win out against the shackles Ash Lynx put on himself?

In those few moments immediately after reading Eiji’s letter, we see the way Ash reacts : his eyes fill with hope, disbelief, love, and a hundred other emotions as all thoughts other than Eiji’s words flee his mind. Eiji’s reference to the leopard was especially important : he gave Ash a reminder, once more, that even lost souls have a way of coming back home, and that one’s humaneness was something we discover throughout our whole lives, it’s not just expressed by a handful of actions. Eiji reminded Ash once more, that it was okay to hope, to dream, and to live for himself. And that was what prompted Ash to take off running. In those few moments, it really looked as if Ash had finally broken free of all that was holding him back.

But at the end of it all, I feel that Ash Lynx won out. The question of saving us from ourselves, of realising our self worth, is a complex one. Ash was happy in the simple knowledge that Eiji had loved him back unconditionally. All his life, it was the one thing he had never received, and in his final moments, that mere confirmation was like a closure of sorts for him. It wasn’t fair to either of them, but it was how things finally ended.

In an ideal world, we’d have no doubt seen Ash and Eiji having their happy forever after, given everything that happened, but sadly, the author chose to write in Lao, as if to prove a point : that more often than not, dreams and reality are separated by just one moment of carelessness, one second of letting your guard down, and for Ash, that moment was fatal.

#banana fish #ash lynx #eiji okumura #asks #anon #textposts #analysis #I'll try to answer the other asks soon #real life has been crazy this past month or so #please bear with my snail's pace for now :')

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mhaccunoval · 5 years

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ok ik i’m a little white boy & have no right to talk about this but i’m going to while i’m still thinking about it....

i love sunny but:

if you start representing one community/minority but still undermine another, that’s still shitty

any way that i word it it needs explanation so check the cut

i still don’t know where the mention of blackface still happening after 14 seasons came from but it doesn’t matter rn because it’s beside my point. that point is while sunny has gotten better about its lgbt rep (somewhat), it still hasn’t gotten better about its poc rep.

now i say somewhat as far as lgbt rep because it did give us mfhp, hohc, the bit of out gay mac already in s14, etc. but. sometimes it’s still a bit stereotypical, ya know? like after coming out mac immediately pushes onto dennis which indirectly paints gays as almost. predatory or in the least quick to jump on a potential partner once they come to terms with themselves. and probably some other little things i’m not thinking of. a big thing, also, is there hasn’t been much variation in the rep. we’ve have what? 3 gay guys (all mac cousins at that) vs. one trans woman??? i mean yeah, one of my favorite eps, gang solves the bathroom problem, briefly mentions genderfluid & the nb spectrum but they haven’t given up any characters adhering to it. regardless, the lgbt community has still gotten slightly better rep than the poc community

for one, the sheer about of times blackface has been used. no comment. stereotypes are way bigger here than in the lgbt rep. it was assumed the the juarez family didn’t know english (which the father later does, at least somewhat). all asians alike are stereotyped as shit; the way they clock what’s-his-face, the israeli guy trying to buy the bar, fighting each other on the proper terminology & context for “jew” (not to mention assuming that he was jewish at all), then the actual jihad scheme. just generally wrong perceptions about people from the middle east/west asia. the vietnamese that frank hangs out with are characterized as loud, wild, and too drawn into gambling to care about their own safety. gang solves the north korea situation happened. again no comment. cindy was integrated into the gang easily but i can only imagine what happened off screen. there’s even wrong shit said or done about african americans, not just migrants (using the term loosely for lack of a better one)!!! there’s all the shit that goes down in gang gets racist, followed by continuous stereotyping!! gang turns black almost could have been good because it brought light to racial profiling & not to judge a book by its cover but no!!! it got ruined by that stipulation at the end where it was just the old man’s dream!!!

basically what i’m yelling about is that as an lgbt person it’s nice to see a tiny bit of rep from a show i love but it’s unfair & wrong for the poc community to continue to get undermined, especially when it overlaps with the lgbt community

#pant rambles #iasip #NEWSFLASH: S14

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kindofwriter · 3 years

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Pt. 1

Pt. 2 of ‘The Gang Meets Wilde’

Sorry for the long post, I have an illegal number of pictures, so it won’t let me format :|

Now that I’ve got all the Zoscar out of my system I’m going to do every Sasha scene ever bc she’s the love of my life.

Also, I don’t think Zolf had any healing magic left at this point, but even way back when I first listened I imagined him immediately trying (and only partially succeeding) to heal Wilde. I just wanted someone to take my soft poetry boy away from Bertie!

Transcript under the cut:

ZOLF places a hand gently on SASHA's upper arm. She looks down at him, then reluctantly backs up with the dagger. WILDE stands and smooths his waistcoat. SASHA is still stood uncomfortably close to him.

WILDE: I just thought you might-

HAMID: What is your job?

ZOLF: Actually, just before, that, Hamid?

WILDE (TRYING TO MAKE EYE CONTACT WITH ZOLF): What isn't?!

ZOLF: Ah, lo-, shut up- Hamid? A word, please?

BERTIE: I've got a thing or two in mind...

HAMID nods and starts to lead ZOLF into his bedroom. As they leave ZOLF tries to throw BERTIE a dirty look, but he's already back to making eyes at WILDE. ZOLF instead throws SASHA a sympathy glance, before the door shuts behind him and HAMID.

ZOLF: You realise that what we're actually doing is kind of a bit... secret, international, governmental level... So we probably just shouldn't be telling him about-

HAMID: Yes, of course, I won't tell him about that.

ZOLF: (WITH SOME DOUBT) Okay, just making sure.

CUT TO LIVING ROOM

SASHA has backed even further away from WILDE, though she is still pointing her dagger at him in a threatening manner. WILDE has sidled up to BERTIE and is running a finger along his breast plate.

WILDE: That's very fine armour, is that all yours? I mean, does it fit, is it exaggerating? I'm just curious.

BERTIE (NOT SO MUCH FLIRTING AS ENJOYING THE OPPORTUNITY TO BRAG): Oh, no, this is a very real representation of what lies beneath.

The bedroom door opens and HAMID then ZOLF reemerge, ZOLF looking slightly annoyed at himself for pulling HAMID aside for what was seemingly nothing.Taking in SASHA's perplexed expression, HAMID pushes his way between BERTIE and WILDE and begins to pour her a whiskey.

WILDE: See, isn't this nice? Everyone's getting together-

WILDE gazes at BERTIE over HAMID's head.

WILDE: Everyone's having a good time.

HAMID passes the drink to SASHA.

SASHA: You're all okay with the fact that this guy's been stalking us?

HAMID looks from SASHA to WILDE, who has once against closed the gap between himself and BERTIE and leaning seductively against the mantle.

HAMID: I don't think he's a threat. Let's- We'll talk to him, we'll find out-

WILDE: (TURNING DRAMATICALLY AWAY FROM BERTIE) Woah now! Threat, really?

Having lost WILDE's attention, BERTIE begins to examine his own armour. WILDE steps into the centre of the room. It's clearly not meant as a threatening gesture, but with BERTIE on the other side of the room WILDE easily towers over HAMID, ZOLF, and SASHA.

HAMID: Let's all just relax.

SASHA: Just 'cause someone's charming doesn't mean they're not a threat.

ZOLF: I mean, I was really hoping to have a debrief and actually do some work.

WILDE: (TURNING THE CHARM UP. HE REALLY WANTS TO IMPRESS ZOLF) Oh, don't mind me, honestly, I just thought, you know, it would be useful for you to have a single point of contact, you know? So many reporters hounding you. If people were to know not to come to you because you're already taken, as it were, think of all of the, think of all of the hassle dealt with. I mean, look at me! Of course I can spin this any way you want!

ZOLF: (NOT IMPRESSED) I don't know if breaking into our friend's apartment is supposed to be some kind of grand master play of showing how competent you are-

WILDE: I'm sorry, I just-

ZOLF (ANNOYED): But all it makes me is not trust you and not like you, so that was a misstep.

WILDE has that look on his face again; a desperate mix of wanting to win ZOLF over and wanting to choke him to death.Hearing the shift in tone, BERTIE finally turns his attention away from his armour and shouts from beside the liquor cabinet.

BERTIE: I will take it upon myself to investigate the good character of this young man through a thorough interview and extensive debriefing.

ZOLF forgotten, WILDE turns to BERTIE, twiddling a strand of hair between his fingers.

WILDE: Oh, please do.

BERTIE: I have a private-

HAMID (NOW VERY AWARE OF WHAT BERTIE IS DOING): Possibly over some wine?

BERTIE: I find that wine will often loosen the... tongue.

WILDE giggles slightly. ZOLF gives the back of his head the dirtiest look it is possible to give.

BERTIE: I volunteer for this task. I feel it is incumbent upon me to take this burden of responsibility, take, take one for the team, as it were. And indeed dispense one for the team. You know, I have a private interview suite at The Ritz that I feel might be a more appropriate venue for such a, an extended and languorous and vigorous... intercourse.

HAMID (AT THE SAME TIME AS BERTIE SAYS 'INTERCOURSE,' CLEARLY TRYING TO KEEP THINGS PG): Questioning.

ZOLF looks less than impressed, but this is nothing new for BERTIE. SASHA, looking quite lost, hugs her dagger to her chest.

ZOLF: Okay, can I just make one request?

WILDE whips back around to look eagerly at ZOLF.

WILDE: Oh?

BERTIE (SERIOUS): You can't watch.

ZOLF's face scrunches in a display of grey-ace disgust.

ZOLF (GENUINLY HORRIFIED): Why would I want to watch- (HE CORRECTS HIMSELF TO A MORE NEUTRAL TONE)You having a conversation with this nice man?

ZOLF gives WILDE a sickly sweet smile that is somehow more threatening than any of his openly malicious glares.

ZOLF: However, in the fits of your interview just please try and be discreet with our work.

BERTIE: All of the bellowing will be at an indoor volume, I promise you that, Mr Smith.

WILDE (LOOKING BACK TO BERTIE): I don't think you'll be in a state to bellow the way I interview. Ha!

BERTIE: Ha ha! Hmm.

WILDE (NERVOUS, OVERLAPPING): Well, I mean-

ZOLF (OVERLAPPING): Right, well-

WILDE: No one else care to take me up on the offer?

ZOLF: No, if you wanna take him into your hands then you're more than welcome.

BERTIE: Oh, yes!

WILDE: Well, shall we say, uh-

SASHA (INTERRUPTING, ANNOYED BUT ALSO WITH GENUINE QUESTIONING): So we're, we're all alright with this just, like, you come in, you break into someone's house, you know secrets about us, and then you flirt your way out of it?

ZOLF has the decency to look ashamed about his last innuendo. BERTIE does not in the slightest.

SASHA: That's just, just so I know, right, because, uh, seems like we can take down monsters, uh, and, you know, deal with the police, and, uh, fight our way out of burning buildings, but just so I know that that is the one thing that, like, you know, just... being aware.

HAMID: It's not a very difficult apartment to break into, in fairness.

SASHA nods at this; clearly she thought the exact same thing upon seeing it for the first time.

WILDE: What were the monsters?

WILDE reaches inside his coat for a second notebook, identical to the one ZOLF burned earlier.A moment of awkward, stuttered silence ensues.

BERTIE (TO THE RESCUE, FOR ONCE): We've all been fighting our own internal demons, aaaagh.

WILDE (DISAPPOINTED): Ah. Right.

WILDE slips the notebook back.

WILDE: But this was after the, the British Museum? Yes?

ZOLF (TEARSLY): Yes.

WILDE: Tell you what, shall we say nine o'clock, Bertie, yes?

BERTIE: Excellent.

ZOLF: Mr Wilde, let me make something very clear.

WILDE: Please do!

WILDE slips a hand into a different pocket in his jacket and hands a small card to BERTIE.

ZOLF: If anything untoward makes it into the public eye that we do not want into the public eye I will drown you in a bucket.

WILDE straightens from handing over the card and simply smirks down at ZOLF.

WILDE: Well that's seemingly unfair, Mr Smith. I mean, honestly-

ZOLF: And it's still going to happen. So don't try and barter-

WILDE: How would you know it's from me?

ZOLF: Just be very careful.

WILDE (PUTTING IT ON FOR ZOLF'S AMUSEMENT. ZOLF IS NOT AMUSED): So you're telling me that if a, a set of strapping bucks and, and uh, buxom, I want to say?

WILDE looks at SASHA.

WILDE: Ladies?

ZOLF: I could-

SASHA: What? Wait, what? No, nah, no, no wait, what?

WILDE: Under all of that you might be. Who knows?

SASHA: What?

WILDE (TRAILING OFF): All I'm saying is: you draw a lot of attention, I can't promise you'll never get attention.

ZOLF (STARTS SPEAKING OVER WILDE): I am very keen to cut to the quick and just drown you in a bucket now.

SASHA: Yeah.

BERTIE: Steady.

SASHA: Sounds good.

ZOLF: So stop it with your whole aloof, cleaverer than me kind of thing you've got going on here. If you reveal anything that I do not want to be revealed about this team and their-

ZOLF loses momentum a little as he looks over at BERTIE.

ZOLF: Deeds.

Pulling himself together again, ZOLF reaches up, grabs hold of WILDE's lapels, and yanks him down to ZOLF's height. Surprise, then annoyance, then what can only be described as a flustered blush pass across WILDE's face.

ZOLF (TENSE): I will drown you in a bucket!

BERTIE: Don't worry, Mr Smith, I promise to reveal precisely the right amount.

ZOLF: Good.

WILDE smirks, his moment of frozen, flustered panic over, and he reaches out a hand and lightly bops ZOLF's nose.

WILDE: I'll try not to enjoy it.

Without even a grimace to first indicate what he's about to do, ZOLF rears back and headbutts WILDE. There's an awful crunch as his skull collides with WILDE's nose, which immediately begins to start pouring blood, and WILDE topples backwards onto the floor.

There's a collective gasp as everyone, including ZOLF, realises what he's just done. ZOLF reaches out for WILDE's hand, immediately trying to rectify his mistake, but WILDE pulls back, cupping his hands to his face. Instead ZOLF places a hand on WILDE's cheek, rather aggressively, and mutters a few words. A soft glow emanates from ZOLF's hand and there's another click. Before ZOLF has even had the chance to move his hand away BERTIE's gauntlet smacks him across the cheek and he's knocked prone.

SASHA rushes to check on ZOLF and HAMID makes a futile attempt at pulling BERTIE back. WILDE cautiously removes his hands from his face. His nose is perfectly straight, but still gushing blood. He takes a handkerchief from his breast pocket and dabs at it, shakily getting to his feet.

WILDE: Well, that was unpleasant, I'm so sorry to have let things escalate like that. I'll see you later, Bertie. Pleasure meeting all of you.

SASHA helps ZOLF to his feet, who immediately starts glaring at BERTIE across the room.

ZOLF (BITTERLY, NOT LOOKING AT WILDE): Pleasure.

WILDE: And I hope to see you around again soon. Yep... Okay...

WILDE steps gingerly between the stare-off and to the door. He gestures at it to HAMID.

WILDE: Would you like me to lock it on the way out?

HAMID's shoulders heave as he gives a massive sigh.

HAMID: No, that's fine.

WILDE: Oh, okay.

WILDE starts to leave.

HAMID: Please, Mr Wilde.

WILDE sticks his head back around the doorframe.

HAMID: I will happily talk to you another time, but please arrange an interview in a proper location, and do not come unexpectedly.

WILDE: I'll make sure to get a, uh, a contact time and place from Bertie. Okay?

HAMID (DISGRUNTLED): Very well.

WILDE: Have a good one.

WILDE heads into the corridor, closing the door behind him.

WILDE STOOD IN FRONT OF HAMID'S DOOR

WILDE sighs, and as he does so something about his appearance changes. His hair is less uniform, face paler, eyes more sunken, waist less defined. The colours on his clothes are slightly less garish than they previous seemed.WILDE wipes the rest of the blood from his nose, then stuffs the handkerchief back into his pocket.

He straightens, waves his hand, and suddenly he's immaculate again. He shuffles slightly, like he's about to take off, then pauses for a moment. WILDE lifts a hand to his cheek, where ZOLF cast his healing spell, and smiles; soft and genuine and private. Then, still smiling a little, he takes off down the corridor.

#rqg #the rusty quill gaming podcast #zolf smith #oscar wilde rqg #sasha rackett #hamid saleh haroun al tahan #bertie macguffingham #zoscar #rqg 25 #author's note #long post

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arcanalogue · 5 years

Text

The Sackcloth And The Cloth-of-Gold

I made friends with artist and children’s book creator Jill McElmurry back in 2011 or so, she’d found me through a mutual friend and at some point reached out to let me know she was a big fan of Arcanalogue. This was during a period when the project was on hiatus, so I was moved and very grateful for the vote of confidence.

Jill sent me Christmas cards annually, and dropped me little notes sometimes. We never met in person, so when she passed away in 2017 it was very jarring. I guess I always figured we’d get a chance to meet and laugh in person someday.

That year, however, I received another Christmas card, from her husband Eric, who reached out to let me know he’d be continuing her tradition. And so he has, for the last two years, which has been a bright spot during the holidays.

The other day I came home to a surprise in the mail from Eric, containing these. It’s one of the 1970s Rider Waite decks, with the more muted colors and matte finish, and upon opening it I immediately sat down and counted all the cards, as you must do first thing whenever you’re considering picking up a vintage deck — it only takes one missing card to throw you off, so you have to count them carefully to make sure you’ve got a complete set.

The excitement was distracting, so it was hard to keep count. 78! The gang’s all here.

Before I started “cleaning” the deck, putting the cards right side up and sorting all the suits into numerical order, I paused for a moment, holding them, appreciating them: the cards had been left in their current configuration by another’s hands. Jill’s? Someone’s. I was picking up where another diviner had left off.

We so often are.

The deck shows a lot of use: some stains here and there, creases on corners from inadvertent folding, and the deck itself is warped into a kind of ripple. I’ll have to be delicate with it, one careless shuffle could result in actual tearing.

I broke the deck into small piles and did a little massaging to help smooth out some of the warping; what you see above is actually an “after” shot. And since then, it’s been sitting here waiting for me to finish this week’s work so we can take a moment to get acquainted.

I took it down to the riverbank with me this morning, crossing a few naturally-occurring stepping stones to sit on a shady little island of matted flood debris where we wouldn’t be disturbed. And then I just shuffled the cards for a while, smoothly and carefully, the sound overlapping with the shallow water rushing past.

Since resurrecting Cas’s tiramisu recipe this past week, several of my non-ancestral dead have suddenly leapt into focus, popping up in memories and conversations. This week was the anniversary of Dave Moon’s memorial gathering. It was the week I ended up explaining to someone about the tremendous pride my friend Phyllis took in waging a bitter real estate feud with Madonna (whom Phyllis considered one of her only worthy adversaries).

All of these are people I lost in the past five years, all of whom nudged me ahead in my pursuits, all of whom provided a template for me to follow, whether they realized it or not — and if they didn’t, I certainly hope they do now.

Working with ancestors is its own mysterious experience; you’re dealing with a lineage that spans so much time, so many strangers mixed among the beloved faces you remember, so many alarming inclusions, all standing atop mountains of the faceless dead whose reach you extend, simply by existing.

But those we meet and love in this lifetime, what are they? How do we knit them into our fabric after the thread’s been cut? The people I come from don’t have traditions for this, so I’ve had to adapt my own.

Last week I happened to share a quote from Lawrence Durrell’s Justine, without realizing how apt it would turn out to be. It was accompanied by a picture I’d dug up from 2007, showing a view from another riverbank, near my home in Brooklyn, through several layers of rusted chain link. The full quote is:

“I am neither happy nor unhappy; I lie suspended like a hair or a feather in the cloudy mixtures of memory. I spoke of the uselessness of art but added nothing truthful about its consolations. The solace of such work as I do with brain and heart lies in this – that only there, in the silences of the painter or the writer can reality be reordered, reworked and made to show its significant side. Our common actions in reality are simply the sackcloth covering which hides the cloth-of-gold – the meaning of the pattern.”

What I hadn’t gotten around to sharing was the note I’d found taped to the fence on that bitterly cold day, along with the bedraggled remains of bouquet.

“In memory of my friend Sandy & her lover. Sandy and her lover drowned in these waters on January 31, 1986 Sandy accidentally backed a vehicle into the water off of the pier. Her lover died trying to save her. Sandy was free spirited, young, beautiful, talented and a loyal friend. I wish I would have had a chance to tell her that I love her before she died. Sandy, I miss you and think of you all the time. Love, Laura”

Pondering Laura’s note back in 2007, I’d written one addressed to my future self:

“Not every day or every year gives you your own story to tell, or someone to tell it to. In the lean times the stories that blow in with the dust, sprout under garbage, or are left taped to the fenceposts, will be enough to sustain you.“

I find these everywhere. Photos, documents, and notes to other people end up in my hands. I carry them a while, sit with them. Sometimes I stash them away, other times I just release them back into the wild.

I suppose it’s the same with our friends and loved ones. We hold each other for a few moments, and then let go, with no real certainty as to what will happen next. We’re wild creatures who want to be tamed. We’re tame creatures who want to run wild. We are accountable to each other, up until the moment we aren’t.

And even then, sometimes, we still are.

The cycle repeats endlessly, and continues onward even after we die. That’s how fabric is made — not from one long, continuous string, but from many fibers wound into many strings, and since the sackcloth of life is very rough indeed, it conceals a multitude of knots, seams, and patchwork.

And the cloth-of-gold beneath, the meaning of the pattern... I don’t want to spoil the surprise, but it involves nothing truly being lost, not ever. Time holds us. The fabric contains us. It is us.

Sitting by the Los Angeles river in November of 2019, I cut Jill’s deck and drew a card to instruct me in its use. What would our work be together?

I would have accepted any answer, but this one felt very instructive, consoling even.

It had occurred to me the other day, I am the dictionary definition of inconsolable. I don’t accept comfort or care easily, not even from those I love and trust. I have to find a way to give it to myself. One of the reason I’ve enjoyed the company of wise, weird, creative elders is that many of those who’ve really tried to care for me have succeeded where others have failed.

Losing them, I’ve had to learn to give these gifts to myself, on their behalf. The comfort of ghosts is better in many ways than the kind offered by the living. Feeling for the dead, we make a space in ourselves that remains open to them, and working from within that space they continue to influence us. In a way, they become us. Or we become them. Or both, the way lightning actually arcs from the ground and sky simultaneously, colliding somewhere in the middle.

I am inconsolable. At a fundamental level, nothing in this world can console me. But while thinking it over, it did finally occur to me that the cards come the closest; the peace I get from contemplating and writing about them has proven to be my steadiest source of comfort.

What does that mean for my future? What does any of it mean? Durrell’s words keep ringing in my ears: “Only there, in the silences of the painter or the writer can reality be reordered, reworked and made to show its significant side.“

I have done this, am doing it, will do it. Chatty as I may be, nearly everything I’ve accomplished in life is a product of these long silences. If you want me to show you how it’s done, I can certainly try. If you want to exchange small comforts, even in silence, I would be thrilled to receive them. Per my usual disclaimer: “I will do my best to reply.”

One reason I tend this site is so I can keep replying long after I’ve departed. In fact, the day after receiving Jill’s deck in the mail, I managed to complete Arcanalogue’s “Search By Card” function. This way I don’t even have to be here to offer an opinion! I’m hoping to backdate some older entries from pre-Tumblr Arcanalogue so the full project — the version friends like Jill enjoyed — is here.

I left a small post-script on that page, dedicating it to her. Would it have occurred to me if Eric’s package hadn’t arrived? If I hadn’t dirtied every dish in the kitchen making Cas’s dessert? If I hadn’t just been combing through Phyllis’s old emails, or marveling at Dave’s final art project — a mask of his own face, which ended up in the room where he died, earning a special place of honor at his memorial?

The dead aren’t obligated to tell us what they know about any of this... but it would still be very wise and very kind of us to listen.

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goodlucktai · 6 years

Text

the wonderful mess that we made

the raven cycle pairing: sarchengsey word count: 2230 read on ao3

"I think I'm having a panic attack,” Henry says cheerfully, by way of hello.

Blue stands back to let him into her apartment, mentally writing off her homework for the evening as a lost cause.

Her roommates are in the living room, ostentatiously pretending not to stare, and Henry doesn’t give them the customary friendly wave. He doesn’t even seem to notice their attention at all, which is so much out of character for him that Blue thinks something might actually be wrong.

“Oh,” Henry says before she can get a word in, deducing something from her lack of reaction, “I guess you haven’t checked the group chat recently.”

Jesus Christ.

“I’ve been working. What have they done now?”

“Your husband is trying to drive me to an early grave.”

“Why is he only my husband when he’s doing something wrong?”

Blue leads Henry to the tiny kitchen while they banter. He perches on a stool like a long-legged bird and props his elbows up on the counter, a familiar fixture against the yellow walls and dull blue tiles. It’s late, but there’s fresh coffee in the pot because Blue is a college student, and she fills two mugs while searching her pocket for her phone.

She sewed the pocket into this skirt herself so it takes some digging. Henry refrains from teasing her so loudly he might as well have not bothered.

The muted group chat is as busy and ridiculous as it always is. Even without living in each other’s pockets the way they used to, Blue and her boys fill each other’s days one way or another. Gansey is spending the week at the Barns (even though Henry grumbled about his bed being too big with him gone, and how was he supposed to sleep alone for a whole week, and why doesn’t their girlfriend like him enough to stay over even though the commute to her job would be an extra hour from there, and they’re both the worst and Henry deserves better) and Blue expected some level of extra shenanigans from that end.

But the innocuous video message draws her eye. Below it is Henry’s “????” followed by “hey what the fuck???” and “no what the FUCK fellas?????”

Blue takes a steadying breath. She presses play.

The video cuts in abruptly, auto-focusing as it zooms in. The wind is dull white noise against the camera on all sides, and Blue realizes that this is being recorded from somewhere very high off the ground.

Ronan is laughing, that loud gut laugh that Blue associates with fires and speeding tickets. Behind the camera, Adam’s voice cusses softly, and then yells, “Don’t fucking drop him, Ronan! This is so stupid!”

“Fuck you!” Ronan yells back happily. “We’re investigating!”

Finally he comes into view. Gansey is with him. They’re most certainly not at the Barns-- or at least not any part of it that Blue recognizes. They’re halfway up some ancient wooden structure, and Gansey is leaning out as far as he can with a journal in hand. He’s taking notes, despite the wind biting at his hair and pulling at his tacky fruit-print jacket, as calmly as a TA behind a desk in any one of Blue’s classes.

Blue stands in her little kitchen with a forgotten mug of coffee in her hand and stares at the video of her boyfriend suspended sixty feet above the ground by nothing but a halfhearted elbow looped around a rail and his brother’s hands on his belt.

Strained and disbelieving, Adam’s voice barely carries over the wind; “We drove all the way to Tippecanoe because someone on Twitter saw ghost lights in the state park. You know how many @s he gets a day about this stuff? A lot. You know how much I’ve learned about the history of Indiana in the last two hours? A lot. You know how pissed I’ll be if my boyfriend and my best friend break their fucking necks from falling off a fire tower? A lot!”

This last part is shouted in the direction of said boyfriend and best friend, who don’t react beyond shooting Adam the bird and a careless wave, respectively. Ronan’s relaxed grip on Gansey and Gansey’s relaxed grip on the rail causes Gansey to slip a few inches, Ronan to scramble, and Adam to drop his phone with a colorful curse. The video ends there.

Henry takes a very calm sip of coffee. Blue says, at length, “What the fuck?”

“My thoughts exactly! I’m considering a divorce!”

“You’re not married,” one of Blue’s roommates pipes up from the couch. “So a divorce should be easy.”

“As it has been explained to me on numerous occasions, time is a circle.” Henry draws a helpful loop in the air with his finger, to illustrate his point. He doesn’t glance her way or even seem to care that what he’s saying sounds insane. “We’re not married yet, but we will be eventually, so we sort of already are. Hence, the impending divorce.”

Half of Blue wants to smile, but the other half is still horrified.

“They were supposed to be in Virginia,” she says. “They drove nine hours just to look for ghost lights.”

“Alleged ghost lights. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks it was just campers with flashlights fucking around.”

“Ronan, I expect this from. But Adam?”

“See if we ever let him babysit again.”

“Have you talked to Gansey? Aside from your keyboard mashes in the group chat, I mean.”

“Nope! I wasn’t sure if I was overreacting or not, so I came here first to get your opinion. From the look on your face, though, you’re on my side? We’re going to gang up on our beautiful idiot life partner, and you won’t let me cave in when he looks sad at me?”

Blue leans over the counter to kiss him. He tastes like vanilla caramel from his coffee, smells like ozone from the overcast weather outside and citrus from Gansey’s shampoo, and leans into her with a sigh that betrays how disquieted he actually is under his shiny veneer.

“It’s just,” Henry says, as though he knows he's stupid for it but he can’t help but care this much, “what if he fell?”

A speaking look at Blue's roommates drives them out of the living room, and they close the bedroom door behind them to give Henry and Blue the polite illusion of privacy. Blue taps Gansey's name and puts the outgoing call on speaker. Henry is gazing down at the display on the phone screen, an ugly selfie of the three of them in which Gansey manages to look lovely despite his crooked glasses and rumpled shirt and wild hair.

He picks up on the fifth ring, sounding breathless.

"Jane!" he says, the voice of someone who has no idea he's in trouble. The words are shaped like a smile, and despite herself, something tight in Blue's chest goes soft. "How's the paper going?"

"The paper has been put on hold," Blue says primly. "Because our boyfriend came over to my apartment in distress. Because our boyfriend decided to spend his evening dangling off of a fire tower hunting for ghosts."

"Why ghost-hunting, Dickie?" Henry has to ask at that point. "I mean-- you know ghosts are real. You were roommates with a ghost. You were a ghost, one memorable St Mark's Eve. So-- what proof are you looking for, exactly?"

"Proof for everyone else. Noah isn't evidence, he's family, I'm not going to use him. And I was perfectly safe, besides. Ronan was holding onto my belt."

On one hand, there are few places Gansey is safer than with Ronan. On the other, sixty-some feet is a long way to the ground, and not even the Greywaren can bring the laws of gravity to heel in the real world. Blue massages her temple, in preparation for the headache she's sure this conversation is going to give her.

"I know that you've got all sorts of climbing and spelunking gear that you've used in all corners of the world, I know you do. So why is it I never see you in a helmet when you're doing something spectacularly stupid?"

"What's the worst that could happen?" Gansey says, interested. "I've already died twice. That's once more than I'm supposed to, isn't it?"

And that...

That sounds suspiciously like someone else.

Death left a hole in him that Cabeswater had to fill, and sometimes it spills over the edges like an overflowing cup.

Henry's hand curls around his mug, a little too tight, and Blue takes a slow breath in.

She doesn't say Give Gansey back. I'm talking to Gansey, not to you, but she wants to. Cabeswater gave them a miracle when it gave them back Gansey's life, but his friends don't want to share him. These moments of-- spilling, of overlap, are few and far between, but they're unsettling even in their scarcity.

"The absolute worst?" she says with playful severity. "A divorce. Henry's going to take half of what you own, and probably keep the townhouse too."

"Oh," Gansey says, and sounds like himself again. "Is he upset? I'm sorry, I didn't-- I wasn't thinking. It's just-- the view was too good to pass up, you know? From that height, in the dark, the forest canopy looked like a sea. You should have seen it," he adds. "It wasn't magic, but it came close. I wish you had been there with me."

"Ugh, you're impossible," Henry grumbles. He's probably annoyed that he's too fond of Gansey to stay annoyed. "Take me on your stupid road trip next time."

"But you said you were busy-- "

"And tell Ronan that I will personally, and with extreme prejudice, kick his ass if he lets you pull some shit like that again," Blue adds, raising her voice, because she's ninety percent certain Ronan and Adam are within earshot of the call.

"Bring it, nerd," Ronan says, instantly proving her point. There's a muffled thud, and a soft cuss, and Adam's voice hissing at him to 'shut up, Lynch, we're already in deep shit.'

"At the very least, you could wear a helmet," Henry says. "A helmet is the very least you could do."

"I, um-- could keep one in the trunk? If that would make you feel better?"

It's probably the best they're going to get out of him. There's no way he'll stop climbing abandoned fire towers or investigating the things his odd internet circles send him, and Blue wouldn't even ask it of him. He's going to school because he has to, majoring in historical archaeology to absolutely no one's surprise, but it's clear that his heart lies in his own research, his own travels, his own agenda. He's going to discover everything, Blue thinks. Every wonderful and magical thing the world has to offer, and he'll do it with or without a fancy degree, he's done it already, and he'll do it with them by his side every step of the way if he can.

And of course he can. Blue wants him safe, but she doesn't want him stifled.

"Thank you," Blue allows magnanimously. "Are you still at the state park?"

"No, we're somewhere on I-65. The Pig died on our way back to the Barns. Adam is working his magic under the hood as we speak. We're trying to convince Ronan to dream up a conveniently located auto shop for us, but so far no dice."

The video still bothers her a little-- especially that little slip and near-fall near the end-- but Gansey is so very much alive, as steady and constant as the earth. He's far away for right now, but if she closes her eyes she can convince herself he's right there, his voice filling her small kitchen while his brothers bicker distantly somewhere behind him. Henry rests his chin on his folded arms, and Blue strokes a hand through his hair absently. They lean over the phone from opposite sides of the counter for a moment, heavy with love, aching with it, endless with it; much more than a moment should be able to hold.

"It's late where you are, isn't it? Now that you've scolded me, you should probably get some sleep."

"When are you coming home?" Henry asks. "All joking aside, it's weird without you here."

Gansey's voice is smiling again when he says, "Soon."

They say their goodnights, and Blue takes Henry by the hand and pulls him to the second bedroom. Her boys don't usually sleep over here, because the walls are thin and her roommates are nosy, but they've been here often enough that Henry can maneuver through the mess on the floor without turning on the light, and Blue follows him down onto the bed without bothering to undress. His arms slip around her and she buries her nose in the hollow of his neck.

"Still getting a divorce?" she murmurs.

"I guess I'll save that trump card for when I really need it," Henry sighs. "Our marriage is safe for now."

"It's a circle," Blue reminds him. "If you were gonna get divorced, we'd be divorced already."

"Well, shit." Henry pulls her a little closer. Two out of three is better than one, and Gansey will be home this time tomorrow. "Guess we're permanent."

#the raven cycle #blue sargent #henry cheng #richard gansey #sarchengsey #trc #my writing #trc fic

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