#they did basically everything together and he was involved in so many community organisations

[egglygreg]

My step grandfather just died in an accident, please pray for my grandmother and the family.

[gor3sigil]

Trans drag performers deserve better.

Okay so since y'all seem interested, here we go.

[This is about MY experience as a “former” transmasc drag king, in my local scene. This isn't representative of the drag scene as a whole because drag is a wide, huge scene with pretty much any type of people in it. I have never done paid gig. I only performed a couple of times before deciding to stop.]

I discovered drag with RuPaul like a lot of people, and for a long time, I only knew about drag queens. It’s when I learned about an initiation to drag king happening in my town that I decided to try it. I did a bit of research before the event took place and that's how I learned that drag king is widely undocumented, compared to drag queen. A bit disheartening but I was excited to do something new and especially to get back in my local queer community after 2 years or so of “no contact” with it because trauma (see my post about my first T4T relationship to understand why).

First surprise when I got there, I was the only transmasc present as an attendee. The organiser and person who teached us is agender and go by he/him, and his at the time SO is a transmasc enby but appart from them, I was the only trans person. Most of the others were cis lesbian women. Makes sense. The initiation weekend went really well and we ended up performing in an open scene at the end. I can't count the amount of times I got misgendered by other kings during this weekend and I have to say, it pissed me off so fucking bad because I was the only one getting consistantly misgendered. But I brushed it off and had a blast.

My drag persona is more of a dragula king, really goth, and I did a lipsync performance on a Black Dresses song. I loved it and had a blast. A year or so later, we decided with other drag kings to do a little group to perform together.

Once again, I'm the only trans person.

And that's when the shitshow kinda happened. From all the drag kings present, I was also the only one who wasn't already part of a collective. So the group we had was composed of people from 2 collectives who would basically cheer each other out at every show, and it's great !! But I wasn't being integrated into the group, and I felt defeated. One of the main reasons why I didn't go to drag shows was because I was FLAT BROKE. I couldn't attend these events as they were always or in a bar so you have to at least buy a drink, or had a fee, and I couldn't afford that.

We started doing rehearsals and I set up a discord server for us all to use and organize the said rehearsals. It soon became apparent that they weren't really serious about this group, that they were more involved in their own collectives and it was HELL to have at least one rehearsal a month. But we had a show scheduled for september, and half of the kings weren't ready, didn't know their texts nor songs. I knew it was going to be bad. Also we were confirmed that the gig was going to actually happen 3 days only before, because the people who said they were going to do the visuals NEVER DID and we had to fumble something quick so the event was promoted very fucking late and we weren't sure we could even afford to do it, because not many tickets were sold.

During the rehearsals I got singled out for everything. My voice was dropping because of the T (I had started 8 months prior) and I tried to do my best with the singing parts but got told a few times that my low voice would sound “weird” amongst the sopranos. Also, one of the solo part a king was going to perform was on a very upbeat music and he said we could join IF WE WANTED.

I said I'd pass since it wasn't my style at all.

And when we got to the venue, the venue didn't have any backstage and I had my solo part just after that, so I couldn't just stand there on stage and do nothing. The others in my group KNEW IT as they had performed in this venue BEFORE but just told me “oh, too bad, improvise something” when they were the same ones who told me that taking part in the number was not mandatory.

Regarding the other artists, man, I hated everything. I got misgendered constantly IN KING LIKE - I'M A DRAG KING FFS. Even by others in my group.

When I corrected another performer, a cis gay dude, he laughed at my FACE and told me “but you're trans aren't you like, against gender or something ?”. As I was pre op and still early in my transition I was basically outing myself everytime I told my pronouns and I got so many cis performers ask me invasive questions about my sex life, or being like “yeah I have a trans friend who goes by X but I knew them as Y so it's Y to me but it's not in a disrespectful way you see”.

So yeah, I didn't have a great night. :)

The cis kings called me “girl” or “sis” because “I'm one of them” even after telling them time and time again that I wasn't comfortable with that.

And after this quite disastrous experience, the same ones who called me “girl” and me got into an argument because they wanted to change a song about forced toxic masculinity which is an INCREDIBLY POWERFUL AND BEAUTIFUL SONG into lyrics to talk about femininity. I said that we could use another song then, because there's so few cis men singers who sing about being forced into toxic masculinity and virility that I found that a bit disrespectful to take this important message and make it about women and femininity. There's plenty of songs about that that we could use.

And now guess what ? I was a MEAN MAN who wanted women to NOT TALK ABOUT THEIR ISSUES because I was a very MANLY DUDE DISGUSTING MALE.

The same people who couldn't gender me correctly and called me “sis” a WEEK BEFORE.

So yeah, I got the fuck out and gave up.

I really wish I can perform again one day, but it'll be in another scene.

So PSA: book drag kings, because they are so underrepresented it's disheartening, RESPECT trans drag performers, don't but bioessentialism in drag for the LOVE OF GOD IT'S DRAG. Like imagine being transphobic as a DRAG PERFORMER. Learn the history. And fucking do better.

[mobscene-london]

BASIC INFORMATION:

NAME: Francisco Vidal.  AGE: 46. PLACE OF BIRTH: London, United Kingdom. AFFILIATION: The Rutherford Family. OCCUPATION: Lieutenant. FACE CLAIM: Santiago Cabrera. AVAILABILITY: OPEN.

BIOGRAPHY:

If the Russians thought they would have a monopoly on London’s violence, they were wrong.

Vidal had been doing it a lot fucking longer and a lot fucking better than many of those who’d shown up in his city with their delusions of grandeur in-tow.

Perhaps that bitterness came from an old-school pride that had been with him since Brixton. People like him had fought so fucking hard to get where they were today; a constant war on their doorsteps against the petty drug dealers and gun-wielding gang bangers that had once been intent on driving Lambeth into the ground. That was his fucking borough. The place his family called home, despite the fact once upon a time it had been so unsafe he’d wanted them anywhere else.

It wasn’t until the Rutherfords came along that things really changed.

Before their vice grip on his part of the city came into effect, Vidal and a handful of others had acted as vigilantes; sick and tired of the police’s lack of involvement or desire to keep things under control. The authorities saw places like Brixton as a lost cause. They were poor, mostly minority communities who seemed to have a taste for violence, so it was much more palatable to sweep their problems under the carpet than use actual resources to address them. Vidal took things into his own hands. It’d been a foolish and naïve endeavour to assume that he could really change anything, though. For every gangster he paralysed or drug dealer he forced to taste too much of his own product, there were ten other kids to rise up and take their places.

Vidal didn’t have much going for him—his school life had been a disaster, and he couldn’t hold a real job down to save his fucking life—but a sense of responsibility for the people he cared about came easily. All he wanted was to make the streets a little safer for people like his sisters, because they were ones who could have a decent future.

When the Rutherfords eventually swept into the area, they’d noticed him quickly.

Most people who had any connection to the criminal world had heard about their presence in the richer parts of the city. When Vidal had realised they were looking to make themselves known in Brixton, too, he’d feared the worst. If he thought going up against poorly organised street gangs had been a struggle, trying to face off with a group this influential would be pointless, but luckily for him, he quickly realised that the Rutherfords didn’t intend to come to Lambeth to cause more problems. In fact, their presence meant forcefully expelling or subduing the other gangs all together. It was then he learned that the nature of their work in general wasn’t particularly violent; it was the competition that caused most of the problems.

If the Rutherfords controlled everything, there was nothing to be fought over.

Their initial rise to power in the area had been obscene and bloody, but it was a takeover just swift enough that it could be forgiven. Even though Vidal had been helping them from a distance—taking out key players from the gangs he knew so well—he was never formally offered a position within their organisation until a few years later. Part of him is glad they waited, because it gave him plenty of time to see how much of a difference they made in his area of the city. All he had after that was respect, and much to his surprise, with a reputation that preceded him, they seemed to feel the same way.

Vidal was never anti-violence—he’d used more than enough of it in his younger years to keep the animals of Brixton at bay—but he appreciated that the Rutherfords avoided it where possible, even if only to maintain their reputation. When they did need to keep someone in line, though, they either approached him and his friends or the Walthamstow boys to sort it out. The Rutherfords might not have been known for their aggression, but people realised quickly that when Vidal and the like were sent their way, they weren’t averse to using it to keep their house in order.

When he acted, it was without mercy.

After almost twenty years of working for the Rutherfords, the loyalty he showed them paid off in a more meaningful way. In terms of respect within the family, he had excelled years before, though. Vidal was fiercely loyal to his friends, and always willing to offer a helping hand to the newer recruits. He lived humbly and refused to flaunt his wealth, despite the fact he had amassed a fair fortune over the years. Instead, he made sure those he cared about could live comfortably. There were few people in the Rutherford organisation who knew him who didn’t regard him with appreciation, awe, and a healthy respect. That was why when the main bulk of the family moved back to London from Porto Velho, he was promoted to Lieutenant in an instant.

Even though he’d never had any real ambitions of leadership, he wasn’t one to turn down a nod to his commitment, and as tensions began to rise with the French, Vidal knew a little extra power so far as retaliation in Lambeth went wouldn’t go amiss. Natural charisma and a care for his people meant leading his own crew of men came naturally.

For the first time since his tenure with the British family began, however, he has started to question whether they’ve become too sloppy in their desperation to remain on top. The fact they invited the Russian mob to London is knowledge his new position affords him, and hearing all about how the brutes conducted themselves back in the States makes him wonder whether the peace that he’s finally managed to attain for his corner of the city—and the rest of it, for that matter—might be under threat.

Vidal is loyal to the Rutherfords; perhaps more so now than he’s ever been. But if the Russians bring a breed of bloodshed back to London he’s worked so tirelessly to stamp out, he’s not so sure he can sit back and watch.

The Russians do not have a monopoly on violence in London.

He does.    

SOCIAL CONNECTIONS:

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single. FAMILY: None playable.  CONNECTIONS:

Johnathan Parsons: Boss. Johnathan’s reputation was always well known amongst those working in London, despite the fact he operated on another continent for most of his time with the family. Vidal never met him before he returned to London, but he’s worked with enough Walthamstow boys to know that the rumours about his work ethic are likely not unfounded. Vidal can appreciate he’s not the only one with a penchant for violence.

Mateo Herrera: Best friend. The two grew up in Brixton together, and Mateo was one of the first people on board with his idea to start cleaning up the streets themselves. Whilst he knows his friend isn’t as convinced by the Rutherford family as he is, Vidal appreciates that he joined them anyway. Mateo was the first person recruited to his squad when he became lieutenant, and there’s nobody he trusts more to have his back.

Melissa Lin: Good friend. Whilst he hasn’t made a solid judgement of Johnathan, he and Melissa hit it off almost immediately. Vidal appreciates her cold and calculated approach to things, and likes how she would rather outsmart their opponents before a need for violent confrontation. It’s not a secret that he’s her favourite lieutenant, and he enjoys the fact that there is a lot he can learn from her.

Delphine St. Clair: Enemy. Vidal is disappointed that the relationship between the French and the Rutherfords broke down in the way it did. That doesn’t mean that he holds out any sentimentality for them, though. Knowing Delphine is the one who has assumed control of Lambeth on their behalf, he will stop at nothing to make sure that she and her men don’t return his borough to the war zone it once was. Though he would prefer diplomacy, if things get so bad it means cutting the head off the snake before they can formulate a solid resistance, then so be it. 

[fanfictionfrom-nonfan]

KAMIKAZE

Genre: Angst

Dystopia!AU Jimin x Reader

November, 2057

It only takes a moment for the future of the Earth to be completely altered. It took the President of the United States forty-seven minutes to surrender to the Red Bullet forces, thirty-two for the UN to yield, nineteen for the rest of the United Kingdoms to capitulate to a new supremacy and within ten minutes, the Red Bullet forces had set their camps throughout the globe, not giving any nation a chance to change their minds.

Not that it was possible.

They said it was ‘for the sake of mankind’ and that we were wasting resources by trading so they thought they’d make it easier for the world by centralising leadership, resources and manpower. Meaning, they’d depose the governments, take over everything we owned and strip us off our jobs until they decide what they could do to us.

But the nature of things is that if there was power, there would be an opposing force and it didn’t take long for y/n to join the Green Movement.

The Green Movement was a youth led rebellion against the new leaders and with the hot-bloodedness of young people and their raging hormones, their numbers soared. They felt oppressed, they felt like they needed to do something. Very soon, anyone below thirty who wasn’t part of it were deemed ‘slaves of the new world’.

It was an organisation where only the leaders knew what was going on, however. Many of the grassroots were in it for the thrill and pressure to do something about the sudden change without thinking. A lot of blind hatred for the Red Bullet were spread but when they started rationing basic necessities like salt and water, these youths took to the streets to protest.

It didn’t work, obviously.

Their angry cries were simply ignored and when they grew cold, tired, hungry and weak, they crawled back to their homes with tails beneath their legs.

January, 2059

By the end of the next year, the way the world work really wasn’t the way things were before the takeover. The internet had become a highly controlled community despite its incredible advancements. Sure, the speed of the internet and its data capacity was far beyond imaginable levels since pre-takeover, but network bugs were everywhere, sniffing for traces of rebellion among citizens of the Red Bullet Order. Food supplies were still being rationed, so was petrol and every day-use products like paper or medicine. Vehicles for regular use were controlled and public transport became redundant, now that people were divided into towns that were defined by the kind of work the people there did. People never needed to travel far to work anymore, they could simply walk and all these was a part of the ‘Active Living Scheme’, they said, and environmentally friendly too. Needless to say, people all over the world were uprooted to join these ‘work homes’ they were allocated to.

One such man was a Korean genius, Kim Namjoon, who was taken from his hometown in Seoul, South Korea, to India, Asia’s Silicon Valley. His own country had turned into a giant Artificial Intelligence and Organ developmental center and he knew that the only way he could help the rest of humanity regain some of their freedom was to take charge of the World Wide Web and he did just that. He had gained the trust of his superiors and he learned fast too. Soon he was able to control other computers from his own- he had the freedom of having his own to use, without the surveillance of the bugs and he even programmed a virus like software that could hide an entire computer browser from the view of any spyware.

And since he was made Head of the Red Bullet Internet Security Team, there wasn’t very much he’d need to hide.    

It didn’t take him long to find some of his fellow Green Movement comrades online and overrode their computers with the software and very soon, Green Movement activists around the world were back into action. He had created a platform for them to exist.

Then a flurry of activity online happened. Within weeks, teenagers and adults alike had formed ranks within their organisation and divided themselves into various groups. Some groups took it upon themselves to do work strikes, some who held aviation jobs formed a union that made it a point to ruin the flying experience of any member of the Red Bullet, and some extremists formed mass suicide groups, believing that the Red Bullet’s power only existed because there were people to control. Yet, everything was done in a childish manner. These minor atrocities did briefly catch the attention of the leaders but they were swiftly ignored. It didn’t matter to them that a bunch of losers were dying or that some people didn’t want to do their jobs. They had new members joining their order each they, in numbers that exceeded those of the trouble makers.    

July, 2060

It was a Green Movement ‘special team’, cleverly disguised as a prayer group that y/n had found herself a part of in the summer of 2060. At first, she joined wanting to seek a spiritual calm amidst the sudden oppression. Her job as a typists required her to get up at 6am in the morning and walk to the media station situated in Beijing, China, about a kilometer from her house and to type and transcribe whatever came through from the headquarters in Washington D.C. until she left work at 5pm. Lunch breaks were flexible but she had daily deadlines to meet so she ate when she could. Then whatever work was left, she could take back to the comfort of her own home and her personal computer where she held conversations with her Green Movement peers every night. They were a small union with around fifteen members had a private chat group where they conversed with each other. The leader was Park Jimin, a gentle looking Korean man, who was also situated in Beijing, as a music transcriber and so was his cousin, Jeon Jungkook. They had been lucky enough to have been allocated in the same town and the two of them shared an apartment just two kilometers away from her own place (or so that’s what google maps told her). She had never met the cousins although they lived near her but she spoke with them every night for at least two hours before she went to bed.

She would be lying, though, if she said that she didn’t have any thoughts of one day actually meeting them. They had hit off really well, even more than the other members of their group chat and it seemed that the feelings were mutual when Jimin messaged her privately one night.

It started off awkwardly. After all, all their conversations had always been public and never too intimate. They would usually encourage each other with prayer or shared Beijing’s condition and how their lives as transcribers in a foreign land was like to the other members or talk about their lives before the takeover and the most intimate thing they’d done was sharing selfies when they were bored. Nothing was too personal.

“Can we talk?”

Before she could reply to that, another message arrived.

“I feel like you’re my closest friend here.”

He was being so honest, she found it hard to keep herself from smiling. She was really nervous too, he felt so serious even though she couldn’t directly see him.

“Sure.”

A one worded answer. She hoped that he didn’t think she was crude so she quickly sent a second one.

“I’m happy to listen. ☺”

The smiley was very crucial.

And he talked. He told her how he felt, having to do the same meaningless routine of waking up, going to work, coming home and the cycle repeated itself. Heck, he no longer found any meaning to waking up anymore. In the beginning, he lived for Jungkook. But now Jungkook had become so much part of the routine he lived through stiffly each passing day. He hated the Red Bullet for making him feel that way and himself even more for even feeling this way towards his own cousin.

“All of a sudden I’ve got nothing I love anymore and it scares me, y/n.”

It came as a surprise to her as Jimin was their leader. He was the agony aunt to anyone who needed advice, he was everyone’s listening ear and he cheered for all of them endlessly. Then it dawned on her. Who was his comfort? Who could he turn to when he needed help?

“I feel so helpless.”

October, 2060

It took them four months to realise that they should meet up and they do, one night after work at a Green Movement run restaurant, hidden at an apartment just a few blocks away from their respective workplaces. They were nearer each other than they’d thought. Since food was rationed throughout the world, these restaurants only existed because of the Green Movement activists that worked in the Food Control department of Eastern Asia. Somehow, with another software, courtesy of Kim Namjoon, they could arrange the food stores, managed by a computerised program, to be delivered to the home of a Spanish retired chef who was allowed to remain in retirement. He was far too old to be a part of the Green Movement but he thourougly supported his son’s involvement in the rebel organisation. He didn’t like, though, the fact that Juan had been sent to Asia to type when he held a master’s degree in Spanish Literature.

Jimin had turned up at the entrance of  the media station in a borrowed car and a suit, promptly at 5.05pm. His job as a musical transcriber had more flexible hours and they could leave anytime they were done but it was precisely this freedom that had made him realise there was no longer any life in the cities outside of their work desks.

“I’d have brought flowers if I could but they don’t ration those. I hope you don’t mind this instead.” He grinned and held out a paper rose.

He looked just like his photographs, the same gentle yet alluring eyes and adorable cheeks and his smile. Y/n could’ve sworn she felt her heart skip a beat when he opened the car door for her with the happiest smile she’s seen in a while.

“I’ve always preferred Korean food but beggars can’t be choosers eh?” His smile had never left his face in the entire time they’ve been together so far. It was almost hard to believe that this smiley man was the same man who had nothing but sadness in his words that they’ve exchanged over a computer if not for the hint of despondency in the tone of his voice.

“It’s actually really nice, though. So much better than whatever I’ve been eating.” She digs into her prawns dipped in garlic aioli but her gaze never really leaving the man in front of her. He scoops paella into her empty plate.

“Can’t complain when I’ve been eating overcooked rice for the past year. Jungkook and I have never really figured out how to use the cooker.”

“How can you mess up making rice?” she laughs.

“Is that bad? Jungkook tried to fry an egg with the microwave once.”

February, 2061

It was a routine by then, to meet each other once a week. But Jimin hated routine so on some days, he’d show up just as she’d knocked off from work without any notice on his bicycle and some sandwiches and he’d take them to a scenic spot by the river where they stayed until the sun set and on other days, he’d turn up at her house suddenly with coffee, blankets and movie recommendations and sometimes, he’d take her to the mall (he calls them ration centers) where he’d use up a few of his ration tokens on dresses and shoes he liked on her.  

But her favourite was always the days he’d show up after a long day of work on his bike and they’d remain silent through the journey to his place. Words didn’t need to be exchanged. All Jimin needed wasn’t anymore sound. He’d had enough of that at work all day. What he wanted- no, needed was her cheek against his shoulders and her arms firmly around his waist as he took the longer route back to his apartment.

Jungkook welcomed her visits too. He hated the monotony of his life. As much as he loved music, having to face so many tunes in a day, everyday, almost made him lose the passion he had for making his own music.

“You’re here! I was getting bored. Maybe I should go find my own girlfriend too.” He joked. He was two years younger than his older cousin but he held a higher post in the Music Transcription center than Jimin did. His job was a music researcher and had the luxury of listening to as many kinds of music he wanted unlike Jimin who was often stuck with one song for the rest of the week. Especially if it was a symphony orchestra. He hated symphonies.

“You can, you just don’t want to. Doesn’t the Red Bullet groupie called Alice or something have a crush on you?” Jimin asks, not really looking for an answer as he rummaged through the kitchen cabinets for something to feed themselves.

“She’s a red. I’m a green.”

No one dares to fall in love nowadays and y/n counts herself lucky as Jimin tackles her into the couch with overnight tacos in his hand and Jungkook jumping of his side of the sofa with a yelp.

November, 2062

“There isn’t really any point in living, you know.” Jimin types into the group chat one day. By now, the number of members in the union had grown into a sizeable army of 600 youths. Within seconds, a hundred different people from all around the world respond, agreeing with him.

It shocks y/n when she opens her messages but that message was quickly buried by the onslaught of replies and she question’s if she actually saw it at all.

“Jimin, what was that?” she asks him privately over chat.

“Just saying how I feel. I mean, don’t you feel that way? I’ve been at this fucking job for three years now. Jungkook is a researcher. I’m a bloody transcriber. You too, don’t you ever get sick of it?”

She does, of course. She hates her job with every bone in her body but she doesn’t feel angry because she knows at least she has him.

“In this life, what do we have? We have a God? But he isn’t doing anything. At least when we die, we might get to see him. Or not. But it’s better than being a slave on this earth.”

She doesn’t dare reply.

“The best thing I have is you and I love you so much, and I feel like utter crap every time I realise I don’t have anything nice to give to you. I can’t provide you with a comfortable life away from the hell hole you’re stuck in, I can’t take you out on nice dates under a candle light, I can’t show you how much you really mean to me, I can’t even make you proud of me.”

She wants to shout at him that he’s being stupid and that everything he does, she knows it’s for her and she knows, she knows how much he loves her and she can feel it. She wants to yell that she doesn’t need fancy gifts and expensive dates because all she needs is really just him and his presence.

But she’s suddenly afraid because this Jimin wasn’t the Jimin she thought she knew. She’s scared of this stranger and the words he’s saying with her boyfriend’s online chat account.

She goes back to read their group chat and she finds that they’ve renamed their group ‘The Kamikaze’. It’s too late.

December, 2062

From that day on, it had been a downward spiral. Jimin stopped smiling, he stopped trying to get through the days, he stopped trying to make her happy, he stopped trying to make him happy. Every time she visited him, he’d only swear at himself for making her take the trouble.

“But you’re not even trying!” she once cried.

“What’s there to try for? There is nothing at the end of the road for us.”

She leaves his apartment, half outraged, half broken-hearted.

January, 2063

He shows up at her doorstep past midnight, in a complete wreck.

“I can’t take this anymore.” He stares at her with such lifelessness in his eyes. But she wondered if he was actually back when he falls into her embrace. Like the old times, he stays the night and they don’t leave each others’ arms until her alarm clock knocks the peace out of the house.

February, 2063

“I want to leave this place.” He tells her very matter of factly. “Will you leave with me?”

“Of course.” She says with a laugh, just to humour him. “Wherever you’ll go, I’ll come with you.” He smiles back with assurance and laces their fingers together and he waits for her to fall asleep first, on his bed. It was her turn to stay over at his, just like how they’ve done two springs ago. With his free hand, he brushes the stray strands of hair off her face and pulls the covers over the both of them before he too, falls asleep.

“You’re beautiful, my love.”

March, 2063

He meant it when he said he was going to leave.

“Love, I don’t want to carry on like this anymore. It’s torture.” He said those words with such pain in his voice that y/n begins to feel the suffocation he feels too. Her insides scream at her to stop, however.

Their group chat numbers had increased again but more than three hundred of the members were no longer active. They had went on with the plan hatched by their leader. To end their suffering, to hell with the Red Bullet and for the better of the world.

“Today, a hundred and fifty of our brave fighters have carried out their mission successfully,” Jimin writes, “It is time I did my duty. As your leader I will lead by example. After that, Jungkook will carry on our legacy.”

Y/n removes herself from the chat group.

Mid-April, 2063

“For the greater good of the world?” she whispers but the absurdity of her words make her howl with laughter. She doesn’t know what’s right or what’s wrong anymore. She never minded living out those long days with short nights because she knew he was always around to wipe her tears. He was willing to pluck the stars in the sky for her and that was all she needed to know. But here was a man who stood on a ladder with that very ambition but lost his footing and fell way down.

Now he was broken and no amount of healing would fix him.

“Yes, I’d say that’s it.” He smiles at her with the very smile she received the very first day they met. It’s chilling, it makes her heart leap and she falls in love with him all over again.

Late-April, 2063

His hands take hers, so delicately and he pulls her close, his eyes boring into her skull and his lips, ever so sweetly take hers with his and she finds herself heavy lidded and drunk on his touch, how softly he traces patterns onto her back, how firmly, yet not hard enough to hurt her, he holds her waist.

“I love you, so, so, much.” He breathes when he breaks away from her but then rests his forehead against hers, his eyes shut.

“It’s time for us to leave.” He takes her hand again and guides her to his bicycle where she sits at the place she’s all too familiar with, with her cheek against his shoulder and her arms around his waist and they take the long route back to her house.

“We’ll never need to part again.” He smiles, and it’s the brightest she’s ever seen, ever. There isn’t a sadness in his voice, his eyes are gleaming and worry-free and this is the first time she’s seen him so relaxed and happy.

When they reach her place, he picks her up into his arms and takes her to the bed. The whole place smells of peaches and almonds. He puts her down and joins her, holding her against him like how they’ve always done. He intertwines their fingers and rests his head against her.

And just like always, he makes it hard to breath.

His soft kisses made her dizzy.

And her heart leaps.

And then he takes her breath away.

And he’s gone with her.

Fin.

[soveryanon]

Reviewing time for MAG138! /o/

- ………………… It’s Holy Shit Smirke What The Fuck time, and I feel obligated to mention in preamble that: yes, I do get one of the points of his statement – that he lacked… flexibility and that it impacted his understanding of the Fears; that he associated them with a neat categorisation, with places, with stone and concrete and stable, fixed monumentality (“And if, as I came to believe, the Dread Powers were themselves places of a sort, then surely with the right space, the right architecture, they could be contained. Channelled. Harnessed.”) when they’re actually mutable, can express themselves in an infinity of ways, and that Smirke’s ~taxonomy~ was far from perfect, probably too tainted by his preconceptions and associations with tangible places to work for long after a few decades of illusion; that, in the end, Robert Smirke died as an old man unable to admit the flaws in his work (“Would you have me separate The Corruption between insects, dirt and disease? To, to divide the fungal bloom from the maggot? No. No, I… stand by my work.”), ready to blame others than him or his own community for their sufferings (“No; I feel certain they were bought into existence by some ancient civilisation, some… foolish tribe from pre-history.”). Leitner (!) (yes, “!”: Leitner, being right about something, I know. Incredible.) and Gerry had actually warned about describing the Fears with such neat separations:

(MAG080) LEITNER: I told you it was an unhelpful analogy. Let’s try another one. Um… Imagine, you are an ant, and you have never before seen a human. Then one day, into your colony, a huge fingernail is thrust, scraping and digging. You flee to another entrance, only to be confronted by a staring eye gazing at you. You climb to the top, trying to find escape and, above you, can see the vast dark shadow of a boot falling upon you. Would that ant be able to construct these things into the form of a single human being? Or would it believe itself to be under attack by three different, equally terrible, but very distinct assailants?

(MAG111) GERRY: […] And when our fears change, so do these things. But it’s not quick. Gertrude reckons they’ve basically been the same since the Industrial Revolution. She and my mum both liked to follow Smirke’s list of fourteen. ARCHIVIST: [DISBELIEVINGLY] Th– I mean, there are a lot more than fourteen things to be afraid of in the world. Where do you draw the line? GERRY: Hmmm. I always think it helps to imagine them like colours. The edges bleed together, and you can talk about little differences: “oh, that’s indigo, that’s more lilac”, but they’re both purple. I mean, I guess there are technically infinite colours, but you group them together into a few big ones. A lot of it’s kind of arbitrary. […] And like colours, some of these powers, they feed into or balance each other. Some really clash, and you just can’t put them together. I mean, you could see them all as just one thing, I guess, but it would be pretty much meaningless, y’know, like… like trying to describe a… shirt by talking about the concept of colour. O–Of course, with these things it’s not a simple spectrum, y’know, it’s more like– ARCHIVIST: An infinite amorphous blob of terror bleeding out in every direction at once. GERRY: Now you’re getting it. ARCHIVIST: Like colours, but if colours hated me.

Sounds like the Fears are… part of a whole, and that “infinite amorphous blob of terror bleeding out in every direction at once” might still be the most Accurate Description for… whatever they are.

But I’m also an utter fool who likes neat categorisations for these concepts so YES, I acknowledge that Jonny is calling us out on trying to put labels on everything that happens in the series and on trying to make occurrences fit into the list we were given in MAG111, but suddenly I can’t read / HOW ABOUT I DO IT ~ANYWAY~. :w

- Obligatory tears because: Tim, disillusioned at the end of season 3, had reached the conclusions about Smirke’s work that Smirke himself half-admitted here (back-and-forth between admitting that he had been wrong and ~standing by his work~):

(MAG117) TIM: […] You know, for the longest time I thought the secret was in balance…! In some… dusty old architect’s work on symmetry. [SCOFF] But he failed, didn’t he? What was he even trying to achieve? He’d lived like anyone else, he… died like anyone else. Whatever he was looking for, in his “Balance and Fear”? I don’t think he found it.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I have been blessed with a long life, something few who crossed paths with the Dread Powers can boast, but now… at the end of it, my true fear is that I have wasted it, chasing an impossible dream. To speak plain, I have begun to lose faith in the possibility of Balance. Of any sort of equilibrium among them.”

And look, yes, I know, I should be terrorised that Smirke’s shiny system wasn’t so great and functioning after all… but I’m mostly SAD, because Tim had spent the last three-to-four years of his life trying to understand Smirke’s work, and had concluded that it wasn’t working. And he was right. (And then he died, too.)

- So we’re getting a new designation for the Fears: the “Dread Powers”, which, yeah, what it says on the tin, neat!

- Smirke’s words and his influence on current characters localised in London puts me to mind again that… how come that some people apparently knew what the rituals would do to our world? How can they know of the result, since no ritual has succeeded so far?

(MAG092) ELIAS: These things that touch us, they… don’t have a form of the sort that could exist in physical reality. So the Stranger wishes to remake that physical reality into something closer to itself. It wants to make this world its own.

(MAG111) ARCHIVIST: No, I don’t have time. Tell me about the rituals. GERRY: Well, they all have one. Most of them, anyway. Takes centuries to build up to a level of power where they can try it, and if they fail, it’s back to square one. ARCHIVIST: Okay, but what do the rituals do? GERRY : They… kind of “shift” the world, just enough for the Power to come through. Merge with reality. Some say, or well, they guess, that it could bring other entities through with them. I mean, I doubt The Buried would be bringing through The Vast, but you know. ARCHIVIST : But what does that actually mean. F–for the world? “Merging with reality”? GERRY: […] right now all the entities have to act like a hunter, they pick off the weak ones around the edges, the ones that wander to close, and the rest of the time they have to just graze on whatever fear we all passively give away. ARCHIVIST : And if one of the rituals succeeds? GERRY : The world becomes a factory farm.

So this might be what Smirke theorised himself, notably on the idea that Powers had allies and opposites:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “Fourteen Powers, with their opposites and their allies, each with an aim no more no less than manifestation. Apocalypse. Apotheosis. I wonder: did my work bring about these Dreadful things, or… did I simply develop the means by which they can be known…?”

And we saw through The Hunt (or… the essence of the hunt) that its goal is not to manifest, since it revels in the chase and the pursuit – not in getting the prey. Though Smirke might have given inspiration to humans touched by the powers, to organise their activities around circumstantial allies (or allies by nature) and enemies? There might still have been a bit of truth to it, since Gertrude did manage to neutralise The Buried’s ritual with the body of Vast-touched Jan Kilbride… So, to what extent was Smirke, in the end, spot-on, and to what extent did he over-systemise something that was filled with irregularities and particularities?

(- I wonder if the ideas of what the world WOULD look like if one of the rituals succeeded weren’t due to… the Fears-touched dreams? There is definitely something too suspicious about “dreams” overall in this series – I assumed for long that it was a case of “well, of course, if you experience a terrifying thing, your subconscious with get plagued with it and you’ll have nightmares related to this” for a lot of them, independently from Jon’s Archivist-induced dreams. But Smirke revealed that he had initially begun his work influenced by the dreams he had:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “Did I ever tell you about the dreams? I’m sure I must have. I would dream about them, you see, as a young man, long before I devised my taxonomy. I would find myself in nightmares of strange, far-off places: a field of graves; a grasping tunnel; an abattoir, knee-deep in pigs’ blood. I believed then, as I still believe now, that these places I saw were the Powers themselves, expressed in their truest form, far more entirely than any “secret book” can claim.”

And we’ve had various cases of dreams being more spooky than “regular” ones: Oliver began to see the veins in his dreams (MAG011, MAG121), Robert E. Geiger was only able to hear Stefan Brotchen’s last words in his dreams (MAG099), Annabelle had started to get dreams involving spiders despite being unaware of the nature of the experiments (MAG069), Carter Chilcott had been dreaming of “floating through ancient graveyards or the open, empty sea” while on the Daedalus (MAG057), Joshua Gillespie dreamed of asphyxiating despite the coffin itself not giving him any such experience while he was awake (MAG002)… Is it possible that people are more sensitive to the Fears in their dreams, since dreams are a bit more in the Fears’ territory (Jonny mentioned, iirc, that they behave on “dream-logic”)? Is that how Garland Hillier saw The Extinction coming, too: due to his dreams?)

- Alright: sudden information that Smirke APPARENTLY HELPED THEORISE THE RITUALS??? HOLY MEW????

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “So many have abandoned us, casting about for rituals that I helped design. In my excited discussions with Mr. Rayner, I… perhaps extrapolated too much from his talk of a “Grand Ritual” of darkness. The Dark, I thought, was simply one of the Powers so, it stands to reason that each of them should have its own ritual. Perhaps they already did, even before I put pen to paper. They certainly do now, and I shudder to think how Lukas, Scott and the others may use this conception.”

So, to break this down: it seems like Maxwell Rayner agreed to discuss with Smirke about what he identified as The Dark’s ritual, and Smirke guessed from there that the other Fears that he had isolated probably had (or should have) their own rituals, and worked on theorising them? Basira herself had noticed that Natalie Ennis’s words reported in MAG025’s statement (“She said that they were all going, that 300 years was a long time to wait, but she was lucky to have found it so close to the end.”) matched with two solar eclipses happening in Ny-Ålesund (MAG108: “And when Natalie Ennis talked about it being 300 years ago, well. How much do you know about the relationship between Edmond Halley and John Flamsteed?” “What, Halley like the comet?” “Exactly.”); Basira might have been spot-on on the idea that The Dark is quite… regular and organized around these eclipses? Or at the very least, that The Dark was aware of its opportunities to reshape the world.

And Smirke hypothesises that a few other people might have taken inspiration from it, some of them also part of Jonah Magnus’s own circle (so they were probably all mutual acquaintances, at the very least, as people that Smirke had “brought into [his] confidence”?):

* “Mr. Rayner” (The Dark): unless twist, Maxwell Rayner himself, and Smirke had abundantly talked with him, apparently. No mention on whether Jonah knew him too (except if the Elias-is-Jonah theory turns out to be an actual thing, since Maxwell was revealed to have been a ~friend~ of the Head of the Institute in MAG135), but Dr. Algernon Moss, in a statement given May 14th 1864, had reported on his encounter with Maxwell Rayner who was already well-known at the time (MAG098).

* “Scott” (The Buried): likely referring to George Gilbert Scott (MAG050), who had been under Henry Roberts’s tutelage, who had himself been one of Smirke’s disciples. Sampson Kempthorne, the author of the letter to Jonah, briefly employed Scott in 1834 (historical fact) and noted that he tended to design claustrophobic places. Scott had been said to have “also received certain architectural tutelages from Sir Robert himself”, and during a reception, Smirke had explained to Kempthorne that Scott hadn’t really understood his lessons about “balance” and that Kempthorne had dodged a bullet getting rid of him. Sampson Kempthorne wrote his letter on June 12th 1841, was in good terms with Jonah Magnus but not really an intimate of Smirke himself (he wasn’t into ~the confidence~).

* “Lukas” (The Lonely): we know from Barnabas Bennett’s letter to Jonah Magnus, dated April 9th 1824, that Jonah had warned him to avoid Mordechai Lukas and was himself on “good terms” with him according to Elias (MAG092). Smirke could be referring to Mordechai or another from the family – since, at least, it seems like the ties between the Lukases and the Magnus Institute remained strong over time, with the Lukases being current sugar daddies patrons of the Institute (MAG017, MAG033) and Elias knowing ~Peter~ personally.

So that’s indeed quite a peculiar society of people in the know about the ~Dread Powers~. Given that Maxwell Rayner gave information to Smirke about The Dark’s “Grand Ritual”, and that Mordechai Lukas was already… powerful enough by himself to punish Barnabas in 1824, it doesn’t look like Robert Smirke “converted” all of the people surrounding him, but that he got acquainted with a few people who already had their own knowledge? Not sure about George Gilbert Scott, though – it seems like this one learned Smirke’s principles and ran away with them, serving The Buried.

In the same way, it really feels like Smirke might have exaggerated his role in organising the rituals? The Dark has its own already; we know that the previous attempt to bring The Stranger through took place in the Court Theatre of Buda in October 1787 (statement given by Abraham Janssen in MAG116), when Smirke was… a young kid. There was also some suspicion about the ~Archives~ under Alexandria, which were attacked by what looked like a Dark faction in AD 391, perhaps to stop an attempt by the Beholding (MAG053). According to Peter Lukas, The End and The Web have never been interested in setting up their ritual (MAG134), and Daisy&Jon guessed that The Hunt doesn’t want to reach its culmination (MAG133), even though some Hunters were seeking it. It doesn’t seem like Smirke created the principles that guide rituals, more that he himself didn’t have any information about attempts by other factions than The Dark? But he apparently wrote… guidelines (/wild-mass guessing essays) about others, and feared, towards the end of his life, how they could be misused.

Smirke, why the FUCK did you do that in the first place, OF COURSE IT WOULD GET MISUSED………….. (Though, it’s easy to see how something meant to protect could serve nefarious purpose. Explain in details how fire works, in order to save lives during a housefire, and one pyromaniac could still twist the principles to achieve more damage…)

Smirke specifically said that he “put pen to paper” so, unless it was an exaggeration… there might be a Robert Smirke essay somewhere about his ideas of the Fears’ rituals, whether they’re concrete guidelines or more general principles. The question is: where, and is it actually “worth” something, either to construct the rituals or to stop them? Did Gertrude have access to it? … is it in Elias’s safe? (Or is it… absolutely useless and off-the-mark, and Smirke feared for nothing because he thought his work a bigger deal than it actually was for the Fears themselves?)

- Amongst the list of people into ~Robert Smirke’s confidence~, what about Henry Roberts? He had trained George Gilbert Scott:

(MAG050, Sampson Kempthorne) “Henry [Roberts] was very effusive about the talents and prospects of young Mr Scott and was at great pains to inform me that his young protégé had also received certain architectural tutelages from Sir Robert himself. He said this with the oddest of looks, as though there was some jolly secret between us. I rather just nodded, as if to say I took his meaning, and he left well enough alone. […] At the mention of the name George Gilbert Scott, Sir Robert’s face flushed suddenly, in a manner not entirely unlike that of his protégé. He asked me what my interest was in Mr Scott, and I told him that he had, until recently, been engaged as my assistant. At this, Sir Robert gave a small laugh of satisfaction and told me I did not realise exactly how lucky an escape I may have had. I asked again what his training had entailed, and Sir Robert stared at me for a silent minute, before he finally nodded his head. “Balance,” he told me. “Equilibrium. […]” Without prompting, his tirade continued, and he talked about George, about shortcuts in symmetry and a patron that the young fool did not understand. I could follow very little of it, and it seems to be decidedly removed from anything that I would consider architecture, but whatever it was that Sir Robert had been teaching George, it appeared the lessons had been put to less noble use than he had intended.”

Both George Gilbert Scott and Henry Roberts historically survived Smirke (dying respectively in 1878 and 1876) – but it seemed that at the time, Henry Roberts knew about the true nature of Smirke’s work, and yet didn’t apparently dedicate himself to one power like Scott apparently did with The Buried…? Did it happen later, or did Henry Roberts totally manage to remain neutral…?

(And I’m HOWLING overall that… I hadn’t noticed, back in MAG050, that. Henry Roberts’s behaviour implied that Robert Smirke was indeed sharing what he knew of the Fears with his private club of acquaintances. I thought he was only training people in his “Balance and Fear” and that they independently happened to discover the powers by themselves. But nope, it’s REALLY all because of Robert Smirke; good job, Bob.)

- A curious detail: Robert Smirke’s death as given in MAG138 does not match the official version in our ~world~: the historical figure died on April 18th, 1867 while Martin reported that the letter he wrote to Jonah was dated February 13th, 1867, and that he died of ~apoplexy~ mid-writing it. That’s two months before his historical death!

(MAG138) MARTIN: Statement of Robert Smirke, taken from a letter to Jonah Magnus, dated 13th of February, 1867. […] Uh… [INHALE] The, hum… The letter ends there. Uh… Ap–apparently Robert Smirke was found collapsed in his study that evening, dead of, uh… [FLIPPING PAPER] Apoplexy.

Buuuut that year (1867) curiously has one matching point of data with the statement previously read by Martin, in MAG134 – it’s the same year Garland Hillier disappeared.

(MAG134, Adelard Dekker) “Garland Hillier’s final essay, published in 1867 and simply titled “L’Avenir”, “The Future”, was supposedly a rambling and meandering speculation on the end of the human race, influenced by Darwin’s recent publication of The Origin of the Species and his own shattered faith. He posited a future where, far from any glorious or holy revelation or reckoning, a decadent and corrupt humanity was violently and utterly supplanted, and wiped out by a new category of being. One he referred to as “les Héritiers”. “The Inheritors”. He gave no details on how he believed they might look like, or how they might behave, but his predictions for the final days of humanity were unpleasant, and visceral. […] Anyway, the point is that sometime after that essay was published, Garland Hillier disappeared. Exactly when this happened, no one is really sure, but the last records of his existence can be found near the end of 1867.”

I don’t know if the “change” regarding Robert Smirke’s death is simply a matter of authorial self-protection (Magnus Archives is ~an AU~ of our reality, this Robert Smirke is not the same one as the historical figure) or if it is potentially tied to something more tightly knitted (a shift, a rupture between the Magnusverse and our own world? etc.)

At the very least, I *squint* hard at 1867. Were Jonah’s activities tied (from afar or more closely) to Garland Hillier’s own activities? Did Beholding start feeling threatened by the ~prophecy~ announcing the new emergence?

- You, too, get Marked by Beholding and get A Big Giant Eyeball haunting the sky in your dreams, the got-in-contact-with-Magnus trademark:

(MAG120) ELIAS: The Archivist wanders. He is searching, though, for what he does not know. […] All through it, the shadow is above him; the shape that gazes down upon him, bloodshot and unblinking. […] It opens, and he walks slowly down the steps into the earth; but even as it closes above him, the great shadow still Sees him. There is nowhere in this universe that it would not blot out the sky. […] So he watches her, trying in his single-minded focus to ignore the attention of that impossible thing that covers the sky and fixes its gaze on him with such force it would choke him – were he breathing. […] And at last, the Archivist looks up. [STATIC INTENSIFIES] At last, he looks into The Eye that sees all, and knows all, and clutches at the secret terrors of your heart. The Ceaseless Watcher of all that is, and all that was; the voracious, infinite hunger that tears at his soul, invoking him to discover, to observe, to experience all and everything and forever.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I have been dreaming again, Jonah. The same every night for months, now. I imagine myself a boy again at Aspley. I awake, cold and alone in the dormitory. The sky outside is dark and I see no stars. I light a candle to better see my way, and step down the silent corridor. The masters’ rooms are empty; the fire in the kitchen is dead. Eventually, my steps lead out into the courtyard. It is so quiet that the sound of my feet upon the grass is painful to my ears. I stop, and look up at the sky, that empty black nothing, and I see the edges of the horizon becoming a dull white. I cannot understand what I am looking at. And then the sky… blinks. And I awake.”

(Bob didn’t have it so bad, after all? I mean. At least, his Big Eyeball blinked.)

- Third named mention of “The Watcher’s Crown” in the series! … almost directly answering Jon’s plea to know more about it from last episode:

(MAG111) GERARD: She worked out they’d all be happening quite close together. She’d already been doing it a while, and the Unknowing was the next on her list. That and The Watcher’s Crown. ARCHIVIST: The, the what? GERARD: Uh, the Rite of The Watcher’s Crown. It’s what she called the ritual for the Eye. She didn’t tell me much about that one, just that she knew how to take care of it.

(MAG137) ARCHIVIST: […] What the hell is The Watcher’s Crown? So far the only mention of it I’ve had is from Gerry, and he didn’t seem to know much about what it actually meant. [PAUSE] And he’s gone now. But if it is the grand ritual of Beholding, then I– … I mean… I need to know about it. Right…?

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I am not a fool; I know well enough what this dream is likely to mean, and I warn you again that if you have any remaining ambitions to use our work, to try and wear The Watcher’s Crown, you must abandon them! Not simply for the sake of your own soul, but for that of the world! I have always had the utmost respect for you as a man of dignity, and learning. Do not allow yourself to fall to this madness.”

Interestingly, Smirke presented it like a literal crown that could be worn…? (What is in Elias’s safe.) (Is the crown Fashionable.)

- Take your pick of your Failed-Because-Of-Hubris representative:

(MAG080) LEITNER: And so I branded them with my seal. I told myself that if any should escape such a mark could help me retrieve them. But I think, in my heart, I dreamed of my work becoming known. That “The Library of Jurgen Leitner” would stand as a symbol of courage and protection. Hubris. I suppose it is fitting punishment that my name has become a watchword for evil, spoken by those who only know it as marking the darkest, most terrible of secrets. My name has become a curse.

(MAG111) GERRY: Eventually, I grew old enough and wise enough to see [my mother’s] obsession for what it really was: hubris. She lived her just carefully enough not to be destroyed by things she studied, but that was it. The things out there weren’t like taming fire, they couldn’t be contained or used for light or warmth. The best you could hope for from them, would be that they don’t spot you, and instead my mum chased after them, obsessed with others who had tried to stare at them without being blinded: y’know, Flamsteed, Smirke, Leitner. Idiots who destroyed themselves chasing a secret that wasn’t worth knowing.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “You see, Jonah, I feel the hour of my death approaching and, though you have always been reluctant to pay due heed to my warnings or counsel, I continue to see in you the reflection of my own past hubris. […] So yes. Hubris. Not simply in that, I suppose, but in believing that those I brought into my confidence shared my lofty goals. “

I wonder if we’ll hear about John Flamsteed at some point, since Basira had done a bit of research on him by MAG108, too… (Though he lived waaaay before Smirke and Jonah.)

- I’m still not sold on the Jonah Magnus=Elias theory. On the one hand, there are many things indeed reinforcing that possibility: Smirke thought that Jonah had sunken into Beholding and that he planned to launch the Watcher’s Crown. MAG138 casually revealed that Smirke knew “Rayner” and the way he described him implied that Jonah knew him too (there was nothing in MAG098 to confirm or deny that Jonah knew the guy; the statement was even given to the Institute, not to Jonah himself, and we didn’t know if he was still alive at the time (1864) until MAG138). This is coming shortly after MAG135 which… revealed that Elias PERSONALLY knew Maxwell Rayner and was acquainted (?) with him at some point. Robert Smirke was guessing that Jonah was trying to escape death, and there is obviously the question: and if he had succeeded, who and where would he be? There is even the mention that:

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I am choosing to assume that these manifestations are unintentional, Jonah, and you have not… simply decided to implore a Dark Patron to end the life of an old man.”

… which (except for the fact that Beholding Never Does Shit) obviously puts Elias to mind because uh, who is well-known for murdering old people? Would Robert Smirke have been voiced by someone from Jonny’s family, too?

BUT ON THE OTHER HAND, every time Elias opens his mouth, I… can’t “read” him as 220+ years old. He’s too shitty? Too petty? Too… not exactly impulsive, but there is always an undercurrent of impatience in him, I feel? I don’t really know how to explain, but I feel like someone much older than “middle-aged” wouldn’t… revel as he does in petty jabs and punchlines, wouldn’t be so intent on getting the last word and on being Verbally Right at every turn?

(But then, that’s one of the main question in this series: what the HECK is Elias, what is his backstory, what are his goals, what even is his ROLE, and what does he know about the Spiders in his Institute.)

- HOWEVER, nervous laughter re: the fear of dying, because hum. Hum. Who does that remind me of.

(MAG080) ELIAS: Well, he was always going to need to fly the nest at some point. Go out and see the world for himself. LEITNER: He might die. ELIAS: It’s always a danger. Almost always.

(MAG121) OLIVER: The thing is, Jon, right now, you have a choice. You’ve put it off for a long time; but it’s trapping you here. You’re not quite human enough to die, but – still too human to survive. You’re… balanced on an edge, where The End can’t touch you, but you can’t escape Him. I made a choice. We all made choices.

(MAG136) ARCHIVIST: My– [PAUSE] [INHALE] [SIGH] My memories of the coma are not clear. But I know I made a choice; I made a choice to become… something else. Because I was afraid to die.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “I beg you, do not pursue this goal; if only a single lesson may be gleaned from my life of long study, and longer hardship, it is that the fear of Death is natural, and to flee from it will only bring greater misery. Repent of your sins, Jonah. Seek forgiveness. I am certain the Dread Powers cannot take a soul that keeps faith in the Resurrection.”

Elias had already installed Jonah Magnus as a Role Model for Jon in MAG092 (“Because he had to know, to watch and see it all. That’s what this place is, John, never forget it. You may believe yourself to have friends, to have confidantes, but in the end, all they are, is something for you to watch, to know, and ultimately to discard. This, at least, Gertrude understood.”) and ;; I. Am. Getting the feeling that Jon might be, totally unknowingly, walking in Jonah’s footsteps a bit…? Except for the part where he’d agree to sacrifice people close to him, because Jon’s conscious decisions have been the absolute opposite so far.

- Something heartbreaking to me: the way… information is not being shared, between Martin and Jon – though Martin is apparently planning to let Jon hear Robert Smirke’s statement eventually. Because MAG138 brings another light on Jonathan Fanshawe’s letter and Jon’s own conclusions about Jonah Magnus:

(MAG127) ARCHIVIST: Hm. “Jonah Magnus”. I’ve never really given much thought to him. Not nearly as much as I should have. I suppose I had always hoped there was a chance he was… innocent, in all this. I know, I know! But I had… [EXHALE] I had just… hoped that maybe the founding of the Institute was in earnest. And not simply the foundation stone for all the terrible things that have happened here. … But no. Whatever is happening now… has its origins two hundred years ago. In the work of an evil man.

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “It is telling that of those I have brought into my confidence, it is only you and I who have continued this far without falling to one Power or another, despite all my instruction and work. This is, of course, assuming you have not taken the path of The Eye that I know has called you – called us both – for so long, even since before we began our work on Millbank. […] I am choosing to assume that these manifestations are unintentional, Jonah, and you have not… simply decided to implore a Dark Patron to end the life of an old man. I further find myself supposing that they may emanate from your own intrigues and preparations to culminate those plans which we agreed to abandon so many decades ago! […] The Eye has marked me for something, of this I have no doubt. My… humble hope is that it may be a swift death, an accidental effect of your own researches, which I once again implore you to abandon.”

Jonathan Fanshawe sent his letter to Jonah in November 21st, 1831: the fair assumption was that Jonah had probably funded the Institute in 1818 as a temple to Beholding? But it seems like it wasn’t the initial goal of the Institute, since Smirke was under the impression that Jonah hadn’t followed the path of Beholding until rather recently (unless Jonah had managed to deceive him all this time?). It could explain the wording used by Breekon to refer to the Institute:

(MAG128, “Breekon”) “That was the first time we saw what would become this place, The Eye’s Pedestal.”

“what WOULD BECOME this place”: not what it WAS already, even though Breekon is talking about their time serving on the Robert Small, around 1853, years after the foundation of the Institute. (Though the concept of the Institute, of Jonah asking all his acquaintances to send him spooky stories, amassing knowledge, threading his map of relationships around spooky people, of trying to know and learn more about it… indeed sounded extremely Beholding in the first place. But it seems like Beholding taking a hold of the Institute was a consequence, and not the initial goal of it – like the Institute wasn’t initially created to serve it?)

In the same way, I had wondered in MAG127 if Jon mightn’t have been wrong to conclude right away, like Jonathan Fanshawe, that Jonah’s goal had been to get rid of Albrecht without any concern for him – there could have been other reasons to take the actual books away from him, especially since they were the ones affecting Albrecht? But hum, alright: even without being a (conscious?) Beholding agent in the 1810s to 1830s, there are many ways to indeed be an “evil man” – Millbank says hi:

(MAG127, Jonathan Fanshawe) “Jonah; I must first and foremost decline your generous offer of a medical position servicing Millbank Penitentiary. While the terms you’ve laid out are no doubt more than adequate, I have, over these last months, come to the unfortunate conclusion that our intimacy and friendship must cease immediately. I do not know what interest you have in the poor condemned souls within those walls, nor do I care to guess. In the light of what I have so recently witnessed, I can no longer in good conscience associate with any of your endeavours.”

(MAG128, “Breekon”) “Poor wretches who emerged from Millbank, with tales of Australia and its cruelty on their lips, bundled into the cramped and creaking ship that would drag them away from everything they loved – and towards everything they feared.”

(MAG138, Robert Smirke) “What we built at Millbank should be left well enough alone, resigned to the nightmares of the reprobates and brigands contained within its walls. […] This is, of course, assuming you have not taken the path of The Eye that I know has called you – called us both – for so long, even since before we began our work on Millbank.”

For Breekon to mention that it was an awful place, it must have been REALLY bad, indeed.

And it saddens me to agree with Martin that he… probably wasn’t the right person to read this statement:

(MAG138) MARTIN: I don’t know what he’s talking about when he mentions Millbank. The old prison, I guess? Tim said the tunnels under the Institute were all that was left of it, but… Jon said he’d checked them pretty thoroughly. [SILENCE] [SIGH] I’m not the one who knows all about this stuff…!

It’s not even just Jon who was specialising in navigating the tunnels – he was finding his way, but Tim was able to use them pretty efficiently too (MAG114, Jon: “I know there are some exits to the tunnels outside the Institute, so I guessed you were using them to get in and out, avoiding any… tape recorders.”). And there is something that Martin didn’t appear to remember about them, but that he had read himself:

(MAG088, Enrique MacMillan) “so here I came. To tell my story, of course, but another thing as well; cold, empty and calling. There’s something here, you see. Something to be dug up, rooted out, buried within. A hollow space that all eyes point towards. And I intend to reach it, if my fingers don’t give out first. I know where to dig.”

[…] MARTIN: Based on a few scattered notes and accounts from some of the older staff, it sounds like Mr. Macmillan got in a bit of a fight, which led to his arrest, and the replacement of quite a bit of the floor in Jon’s office. There are still a couple of boards with marks on them that I’d always hoped weren’t fingernail scratches, but I guess…

(+ Daisy’s mention to Jon in MAG114 that she didn’t like the tunnels because they felt “empty”, and the fact that… the “DIG” leaked into Jon’s dreams for reasons still unknown, despite Martin having been the one to read that statement.)

Is it the same structure as the tunnels under the Reform Club (MAG035) and St Paul’s Church (MAG063), or are they all separate installations? The ones under the Reform Club were long but looked clearly organised and structured; the one under St-Paul’s Church ended with a wall; and the ones under the Institute had been mentioned to be a veritable maze and… cover a very large area:

(MAG080) LEITNER: Over the years I have found that [this unexpurgated copy of Ruskin’s The Seven Lamps of Architecture] interacts with Smirke’s architecture, and those tunnels specifically, in a more predictable way. By carefully reading specific passages in certain locations I am able to exercise… a degree of control over the substance of the tunnels. […] I’ve been in hiding for over twenty years now, ever since my library was destroyed. Obviously I have not spent all that time below your Institute. The old Millbank prison tunnels stretch out a very long way, and there are other entrances than the one below the Archives.

(Leitner even telling Jon that he had made them simpler for him.)

- YOU KNOW WHAT OTHER LINES SHARE THE SAME ENERGY?!

(MAG123) ARCHIVIST: [SIGH] I wish I could talk it through with Martin. … Or Tim. [SHORT SAD CHUCKLE] Or Sasha. But we never really did that, did we…? … Everything’s changed. … [SIGH] Two days out of a coma, and I’m already tired.

(MAG138) MARTIN: Tim said the tunnels under the Institute were all that was left of it, but… Jon said he’d checked them pretty thoroughly. [SILENCE] [SIGH] I’m not the one who knows all about this stuff…! I wish– … No. No, it’s fine, I’m… fine, I… [EXHALE] I can do this.

It’s open to interpretation but I’m really hearing Martin’s “I wish–” as a “I wish Tim was still alive and with us” and AOUCH orz

(I’m… still hoping that we’ll get something from Martin about his own mourning of Tim orz Because that one must have been… so harsh… he was so worried about Sasha’s disappearance in the beginning of season 3, his small voice broke my heart in MAG092 when Elias confirmed that she had died a LONG time ago, and the fact that he had been buddy-buddy with her murderer while Elias was doing nothing about it had been one of the points he threw to Elias’s face in MAG118. And Tim was around even longer, and he experienced so many bad things alongside Tim, and even at his worst, Tim was often mellowing down / a bit more protective of Martin than… anyone else, really, be it in Michael’s corridors or when Tim had explained to Martin that he didn’t think that reading the statements were a good thing? And this despite Tim telling Jon in MAG114 that he didn’t know Martin as well as he knew Sasha, hence the fact he was avoiding him like the others – what does it say about Martin’s relationships with other people… ;;)

- But the “Good luck, Jon, I– … [HUFF] Stay safe.” coming after was absolute Gay Energy, and MARTIN!!!

It feels like the episode was the Perfect Recipe for how to get an episode popular/trending/making people scream: it has MARTIN throughout it, and we’re all thirsty to hear from him! It has Martin being snappy and cunning! Martin’s loyalty towards Jon! A Robert Smirke statement! The relationship between Smirke and Jonah Magnus! New questions about Jonah! More lore with Smirke’s taxonomy from the inside! Beholding statement, with eyes horror! A small mention of Tim! Elias! Elias in prison! Elias FINALLY ACKNOWLEDGING PETER’S EXISTENCE! MORE CHAINS RATTLING AT EVERY TURN! Elias calling Martin out for his manipulative tendencies! Martin using the tape recorders instead of being used by them!

I still feel floored.

- Special bonus for another occurrence of Martin’s “Mm-hMM” when people are telling him something he doesn’t want to hear, and I LOVE HIS CASUAL SNAPPINESS IN SEASON 4…

(MAG129) ARCHIVIST: I just… I’m sorry. Basira is off doing… God-knows-what, and I can’t talk to Melanie. MARTIN : Mm-hmm.

(MAG134) PETER: […] And as far as the coffin goes, there’s not much I can do about a bull-headed Archivist who seems hellbent on self-destruction. My powers only extend so far. MARTIN : Mm-hmm.

(MAG138) ELIAS: I am so very pleased to see you. MARTIN: Mm-hmm.

Martin “Mm-hMMm.” Blackwood, ilu.

- The difference between how Elias constantly reminded Jon how he belongs to The Eye, versus Elias’s… apparent uninterest? in Martin’s own alliance to the Lonely is quite… jarring. As for Jon:

(MAG092) ELIAS: [SIGH] What are you? ARCHIVIST: I… The Archivist. ELIAS: Precisely. It is your job to chronicle these things, to experience them, whether first-hand or through the eyes of others. To simply be told, well… ARCHIVIST: It doesn’t please your master? ELIAS: Our master, Jon. […] We thrive on ceaseless watching, on knowing too much. What we face is the hidden, the uncanny, and the unknown. If you are to stop them, you need to get better at seeing.

(MAG116) ELIAS: I have been doing my best to prepare you, Jon, to See. You should hopefully have it a bit easier than the others. ARCHIVIST: Another of my… powers? ELIAS: More… an aspect of your becoming. DAISY: You don’t say. ARCHIVIST: Er… right.

(MAG120) ELIAS: [The Eye] stares into him, and it stares out of him, and he is falling into the devouring eternity of its pupil. He wants to cry out in horror, but he cannot. He. is. whole.

(MAG135) ELIAS: Fine. Consider it a test – things are… coming, things that will need Jon to be far stronger and more willing to use his connection to our patron. […] If Gertrude had a plan for this one, I haven’t found it, which is why Jon needs to be closer to The Eye. If anyone can stop what’s happening, he can. See through the darkness, etcetera.

With Jon, it’s always been a casually possessive “us”. While Martin…

(MAG138) MARTIN: I think he wants me to join The Lonely. ELIAS: Then it sounds like you have a decision to make. [SILENCE] MARTIN : … What? [HUFF] That’s it? No, no monologue, no mindgames? You love manipulating people! ELIAS : That makes two of us. MARTIN: [HUFF] ELIAS : But no. This is too important for me to jeopardise with cheap “mindgames”. I simply have to trust that when the time comes, you’ll make the right choice. [SILENCE] MARTIN: Great. Great, great. So, what you’re [NERVOUS LAUGHTER] actually saying is that you’re gonna be… no help whatsoever!

… is clearly not getting that.

It’s terrible yet makes so much sense that of all people, Martin would talk to Elias about Peter’s offer, and implicitly seek out… whatever Elias might have to say about it? Elias had been the one to hire Martin in the Institute:

(MAG056) MARTIN: I don’t have a Master’s in parapsychology, I don’t even have a degree. When I was 17, my mom, she… had… she had some problems, and I ended up dropping out of school, t–trying to support us. I tried everything, but no one was hiring. So I… I just kinda started to lie on my applications, sending them out to just about anywhere. For some reason, my lie about parapsychology got me an interview with Elias and, and then a job here. M–most of my employment details are made up, I’m only 29!

… for reasons still unknown – was Elias actually fooled But Would Never Ever Admit It (as of MAG084, at the very least, he knew about Martin’s fake CV (“I mean, that doesn’t actually, er, make her qualified.” “[POINTEDLY] Formal qualifications aren’t everything, Martin.”) but that was long after MAG056 and he could have eavesdropped on that conversation)? Did Elias hire him because Martin was vulnerable and either prone to become canon-fodder or Beholding food, being Full Of Secrets and fearing that they might get discovered? Was there… something else? And in the same way, we’re not sure how Martin ended up working in the Archives – when Tim, in MAG098, pointed out that Jon had asked him to go with him, Martin was curiously silent as if… he couldn’t really say the same. Why is Martin at the Institute? Doesn’t working there for at least nine years mean anything?

I feel like the episode both began with a question (Martin asking where he should stand between The Lonely and The Eye) and ended up with his implicit answer, maybe… after all guided by Elias, when he made a jab at Martin for being into manipulation games too, and for not sharing his information about The Extinction with Jon:

(MAG138) MARTIN: So… so what? What does it mean? Am I supposed to be reassured that new Entities can be born? That there’s some, some kind of… precedent for The Extinction? … Peter? [SILENCE] Huh. Maybe he has gone to a party. […] I don’t know what Peter’s planning, but my–my guess is that it might involve something below the Institute. Hopefully, by the time you get these tapes, I’ll have something more concrete for you. [PAUSE] Good luck, Jon, I– … [HUFF] Stay safe. [CLICK.]

At the end of the episode, Martin’s answer feels twofold: to manipulate, and to choose “Jon”.

Manipulate, because he checked whether Peter was around before revealing that he wasn’t just using the tape recorders because it’s what the archive team does with the statements (MAG134: “I can’t help but notice you’re recording right now?” “It… was a statement, right, that’s what we do.”), but because he’s planning to send information to Jon, through the tape recorders that have always been associated with him (MAG126: “… It’s because he’s back, isn’t it. [SIGH] He’s back, so now you’re going to be… around, again. Listening in. Mff. You missed him, didn’t you. … Yeah. … [VERY SHARP SQUEAL OF DISTORTION] Yeah, me too.”).

I don’t know if it’s enough to go full Web-aligned, but… it feels like between Eye and Lonely, Martin is actually heading towards a third option? Or maybe a neutral ground, since his loyalty for Jon is bypassing the rest as of now? Elias’s arrest had always been presented as Martin’s plan, it’s logical that Elias would remind Martin of it with such insistence (since he’s still stuck there), but it’s still… stricking:

(MAG113) ARCHIVIST: Martin’s plan is solid. I think. MARTIN: I mean, they might just kill him. MELANIE: Good. ARCHIVIST: I mean, maybe. But… I think they’re still our best chance. Even if we did manage to blindside him, I–I don’t know how long we could… hold him. MARTIN: And, in fairness, he’s happy enough to use the police against us. ARCHIVIST: Quite. And I’d rather not be staring down a kidnapping charge on top of everything–

(MAG114) ARCHIVIST: And Martin… he’s okay with it? DAISY: It was his idea. ARCHIVIST: Yeah. You think it’ll work?

(MAG117) MARTIN: These last couple of years, I’ve always been... running, always hiding, caught in someone else’s trap, but… but now it’s my trap. And, well. I think it will work. I know, I know it’s not exactly intricate, but… it felt good, weaving my own little web. […] I guess I’m just… sick of sitting on my hands, drinking tea and hoping everyone’s okay. This way I finally get to do something. It’s gonna hurt, but… I’m ready.

(MAG120) ELIAS: I must admit I’m impressed, Martin. I knew you were all planning something, of course, but I didn’t believe you specifically would have the… er, capacity for boldness that you displayed. It took me quite by surprise. MARTIN: You didn’t just see it in me? ELIAS: Honestly, I didn’t look. For all my power, I will admit I am not immune to making the occasional lazy assumption. I presumed that I knew you thoroughly, but by the time you demonstrated otherwise… well. There was simply too much to keep watching over. I only have two eyes, after all.

(MAG138) ELIAS: Besides which, don’t forget I am still living At Her Majesty’s Pleasure, due in no small part to your actions. […] MARTIN: … What? [HUFF] That’s it? No, no monologue, no mindgames? You love manipulating people! ELIAS: That makes two of us.

(And once again, it is VERY interesting that Elias likened Martin’s depiction of him to Martin himself on the subject of manipulation. Once again: what do you know about the spiders in the Institute and about Jon’s ties with the Web, Elias…)

- It really feels like Martin was Our Protagonist, during this episode? From Jon barely catching him in MAG124, to Martin’s own work alongside Peter at the end of MAG126, to Martin reading a statement in MAG134 to… Martin being the character we follow in different locations in MAG138, getting his point of view (going to see Elias, reading a statement, doing his own follow-up, revealing a bit more of his own agenda).

;;;; I’m still so “!!!” over Elias and Martin being in the same room. Elias was absolutely shitty with him, but at the same time, there is an undercurrent of… honesty? behind their exchanges? Because Martin knows that Elias knows about his relation to Jon and:

(MAG118) ELIAS: [EXASPERATED BREATHING] … Did Jon put you up to this? MARTIN: You think I’m doing this for him? ELIAS: No. It’s just the sort of half-baked scheme he’d come up with. And I’m well aware that you’ll do just about anything for him–   MARTIN: I– ELIAS: –and I don’t need to read your mind for that one. […] MARTIN: Well, I hope you've got something better than that pathetic dig at my feelings for Jon. ELIAS: It’s baffling, really. Such loyalty to someone who really treats you very badly. MARTIN: Oh, is that supposed to be, what, a revelation? ELIAS: [CHUCKLE] You know, I really should have gone for that. Find something that would finally manage to shatter that precious image you have of him.

(MAG138) MARTIN: […] Why am I only hearing about this now, and why doesn’t Jon know?! ELIAS: […] as for our… dear Archivist, I’m afraid I no longer have any real control over what he does or does not know. Unlike yourself! [PAUSE] I notice you haven’t told him either. MARTIN: Yeah. Well. I’m still not sure I really believe it. [EXHALE] A–and, I don’t… I–… I’m, h… ELIAS: Worried he might charge off into another coffin. [SILENCE] … Quite.

… I feel like we always get a glimpse of what Martin isn’t saying, when he speaks to Elias? It’s not the whole picture, it’s not Everything about Martin’s feelings, but there are some bits, some weaknesses that are getting exposed. (And I don’t know if these were Gratuitous Jabs at Martin or if they were meant to get Martin to do exactly the reverse of what Elias was denouncing ;; Because the episode did end with Martin making sure that Jon would know, though indirectly…)

- I’M ABSOLUTELY DDDD: OVER THE FACT THAT

Ahahaha, “This is too important for me to jeopardise with cheap ‘mindgames’” says the guy who sent Basira (and potentially Jon) to focus on The Dark and DIDN’T SAY ANYTHING ABOUT THE EXTINCTION TO THEM, and, in the meantime, discusses The Extinction with Martin when he brought it on the table and DOESN’T MENTION THE DARK’S ACTIVITIES AT ALL WITH HIM. Guess who is back to manipulating through information: THIS GUY. So, there is definitely an agenda behind it; he’s not seriously concerned by The Dark, isn’t he. It’s just a matter of throwing a bone to Basira and making sure that Jon gets to Experience The Dark, isn’t it.

- On the Relationship Between Elias And The Apocalypse:

(MAG080) LEITNER: The Unknowing. ELIAS: [CHUCKLE] Creativity never was their forte. LEITNER: You of all people should want to stop them. ELIAS: And we will. But I don’t think we’ll need your help.

(MAG092) ELIAS: The Unknowing. I need you to stop it. ARCHIVIST: Again with– What is “The Unknowing”? Exactly. ELIAS: A ritual. The Stranger and its kin attempting to gather power enough to bring it closer.

(MAG102) ELIAS: I should have thought preventing the horrific transformation of our world is not solely my concern!

(MAG126) MARTIN: Yeah. You said. … But if things are really so urgent, then why didn’t Elias say anything? PETER: [LAUGH] Because, behind all his bluster, Elias’s just like all the rest. He’s so preoccupied playing the game he doesn’t pay attention to the big picture. He managed to convince himself that he could get his ritual off first, which would have made all of this a… bit moot, but that’s not really an option anymore.

(MAG135) ELIAS: I have been observing a recent increase in people and supplies being moved to the small town of Ny-Ålesund, in Svalbard. An increase which I believe may be linked to a rather desperate attempt, by the People’s Church of the Divine Host, to perform a crude ritual of their own. To bring their… “Mr. Pitch”… into the world. […] You thought the final death of Maxwell Rayner might have sufficiently derailed them? Yes, that was my hope too, but alas it would seem not. […] I rather feel the real shame would be letting the entire world fall into Darkness because of a single person’s wounded pride. Detective. The stakes are far too high for that kind of… indulgence.

(MAG138) MARTIN: So why haven’t you helped him?! ELIAS: My relationship to the apocalypse is more… complicated. MARTIN: [UTTER DISBELIEF] Oh, seriously? ELIAS: Seriously.

TECHNICALLY, we only have Peter’s word that Elias wanted to launch ~his ritual~ because Elias was obviously Very Silent on the issue, but. What is your “relationship to the apocalypse”, Elias – is it just a matter of getting it the way you want it, or not at all…?

(In the way he answered Martin, it sounds almost as if he wouldn’t have been against The Extinction wrecking the world, hence his inaction but? He was probably implying that he had other plans to stop it which involved Beholding’s ritual?)

- Regarding Elias’s agenda:

(MAG122) BASIRA: Elias is locked up. […] A bunch of Section’d officers took him in. He made some sort of deal, I think. But… he’s not getting out anytime soon.

(MAG127) ELIAS: Our… arrangement with the Inspector notwithstanding, I… rather feel that right now all the distrust is very much your own. […] I’ve made it clear my cooperation’s contingent on his not seeing me, and my terms have been accepted thus far.

(MAG138) ELIAS: As for why I’ve done so little about such a looming existential threat… to be blunt, I have been rather busy. MARTIN: [BARELY CONTAINED SNORTING CHORTLE]

Was Elias talking about his activities while still running the Institute, or what he’s currently doing in prison? But oh yes:

(MAG138) MARTIN: Great. Great, great. So, what you’re [NERVOUS LAUGHTER] actually saying is that you’re gonna be… no help whatsoever! ELIAS: … Just like old times~ MARTIN: I don’t know what I expected. [INHALE] Right. Right, we’re done here.

Elias has always been a Very Busy Person.

- … And Peter Has A Very Busy Social Life apparently, too:

(MAG134) PETER: Right! Then, if you’ll excuse me, I have a family thing to get to. […] Okay! Now, I really am running late, so if you don’t mind?

(MAG138) MARTIN: … Peter? [SILENCE] Huh. Maybe he has gone to a party.

Technically, maybe he’s trying to make Martin feel Very Alone by showing off that he has a lot of things to attend, but still. Does anyone even realise he’s there.

- Have I mentioned that ELIAS FINALLY ACKNOWLEDGED PETER’S EXISTENCE? Incredible, I can’t believe, etc.

And he did it in the BEST POSSIBLE WAY:

(MAG138) ELIAS: Come on, Martin. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. Let’s not start with lies. MARTIN: [LOUD SIGH] Fine. ELIAS: I am so very pleased to see you. MARTIN: Mm-hmm. [SILENCE] ELIAS: No time for pleasantries? Very well, then. To business. What can I do for you? Tired of running budgets for Peter? I know I would be.

Absolutely unprompted and to gratuitously complain about Peter – ALSO, L-O-L ELIAS, “let’s not start with lies” but WHO is lying here. We ALL KNOW that you’re dying to do these budgets, that you’re probably doing them in your head a millisecond before Martin by watching him, seething that he’s doing YOUR precious scheduling and budgeting.

And

(MAG138) ELIAS: [INHALE] Everything Peter has told you is true. MARTIN: Oh… ELIAS: For all his… many faults, Peter is legitimately trying to stop the end of the world as we know it.

…………………. Listen. It’s getting harder and harder to keep in minde that they might NOT be marrying/divorcing for the sixth or seventh time. It sounds so much like bitter exes/nagging spouses………………………. And I mean………………… they deserve each other………….?

(Though, if season 4 is any indication: Elias’s true OTP is with hand gestures. He’s getting WORSE and WORSE with the chain rattling sound.)

Title for MAG139 is out and HHHHHHHHHHHHH once again. Immediate thoughts are for AGNES? AGNES? AGNES? PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE? (Reminder that The Desolation still hasn’t gotten a statement in season 4 so far~). Agnes statement from Gertrude’s stash…? (Is there a tape with Agnes’s voice, somewhere?) Or maybe about The Dark’s victims, to keep with the theme; Julia? Julia’s mother?

And second meaning could as well be about Martin, or more likely… Jon, very obviously. I guess ;;

[downn-in-flames]

like a deer in headlights

One short little road trip, that's all it is.

One short little eight hour road trip in a tiny car with the girl he's been in love with since his first year of uni. Nothing to worry about, really.

read it on: hpft | ao3 | ffnet

One short little road trip, that's all it is.

One short little eight hour road trip in a tiny car with the girl he's been in love with since his first year of uni. Nothing to worry about, really.

It was her idea, actually. James had been all set to just buy a plane ticket from London to Edinburgh - why Sirius and Remus insisted on a "destination" wedding in the same city they'd all attended school in is beyond him, but that's beside the point - and before he'd had the chance to book a flight, Lily had texted him, proposing the idea of driving up there together.

It'd be fun, she'd said. We haven't seen each other in ages and it'll be a nice way to catch up.

Apparently, her idea of 'catching up' involves spending eight uninterrupted hours alone with each other.

James can count on one hand the number of times they've hung out as just the two of them - all of them in uni, and none of them for anywhere near this much time.

He's definitely more than a little freaked out about it, which is, quite frankly, ridiculous if he thinks about it rationally. He's not exactly trying to make a good first impression or anything (he'd botched that one well and good six years ago) and they spent quite a lot of time together at uni, even if they were almost always with Sirius and Remus and Peter. This shouldn't be all that different.

But James also knows that he's got a fantastic tendency to make an idiot out of himself - something he hoped he'd grow out of once he hit his twenties but never quite did - and a confined space with just him and a girl he's fancied for years seems like a foolproof recipe for that idiocy to make a reappearance.

He's probably prepared for this trip a little... too well. His car is immaculate (scarily so, really, what kind of psychopath doesn't have anything in their centre console?), there are snacks and water in the backseat for the both of them, and he's got a playlist full of artists Lily loved in uni (that he not-so-secretly enjoyed as well) at the ready.

So as he parks in front of the address she'd texted to him last week and pulls his phone out to shoot her a quick text that he's here, he continues giving himself a mental pep talk to prepare for the hours ahead.

Honestly, he's going to be fine. Yeah, she's wonderful and brilliant and he spent the better part of three years making a fool of himself in front of her, but he's over that, for the most part. She's just a girl he liked in uni, but they've grown apart since then and surely she's not as -

The front door of her building opens, and whatever rationalisation had been going through James' mind comes to a stuttering halt. He's not sure if he'd just forgotten what she looked like or if she'd somehow gotten more gorgeous since they graduated, but… fuck.

Her auburn hair, which once fell to her waist in loose waves, has been chopped to shoulder-length, and she's got it in that same half-up, half-down style she wore so often at school. She's wearing a shirt that looks like it's from last year's Camden Pub Crawl tucked into high-waisted jean shorts, fully showing off her long, freckled legs.

And there's just something about the way that she carries herself, shoulders back and eyes bright, that projects a level of confidence he doesn't quite think she had a few years ago.

It has his heart doing all sorts of pathetic things all over again.

Maybe he's not actually over her.

She's got a light purple duffel bag thrown over her shoulder and a garment bag on her arm, and James remembers at the last possible minute that he needs to open the boot of his car for her to put her stuff in.

With literally anyone else, he'd get out of the car and help them load their bags - his mother would be appalled if she knew that he wasn't practising the 'gentlemanly manners' she'd instilled into him from the day he was born - but he knows Lily, and he knows that she'll insist on doing it herself anyways.

She's always had a massive independent streak - coupled with a distaste for anything remotely resembling a patriarchal norm - and it's one of the many (many) things he likes about her.

When she opens the passenger door, she's got a cheeky sort of smile that, were his heart not already hammering out a frantic rhythm in his chest, would definitely send his pulse skyrocketing.

Goddammit, she's so pretty.

"You didn't even offer to load my bag for me," she observes as she slides into the seat across from him. "What on earth would Euphemia say about that?"

"Euphemia probably still remembers the last time I tried that and you immediately smacked my hands away," he retorts, a smirk growing on his face to match her own, even though he's already been thinking about the fact that his mum would, in fact, give him a hard time for it.

"She did tell me later that she'd thought it was funny to see you put in your place like that," Lily muses as she puts her seatbelt on.

His mum had indeed gotten quite a laugh out of it, James recalls. She, Remus, and Peter had come to visit him and Sirius for a week in the summer after their first year, and James' mum had immediately become positively enamoured with both Lily and Remus, and proceeded to spend the remainder of the summer telling both James and Sirius respectively how wonderful they both were, in a not-so-subtle 'you would be perfect together and I want them as my child-in-law' sort of way.

Well, she'd gotten her wish with Sirius, at least.

He realises he's been quiet for far too long, and she's still grinning at him and probably expecting him to say something back to her. He runs his fingers through his hair - a nervous habit of his that he's never really been able to break - and asks, almost on autopilot, "Alright, Evans?"

She laughs at that, no doubt remembering the countless times he'd greeted her that exact way in school. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?" And after a brief pause, "You look good."

He's almost positive he misheard her at first, but the faint pink spreading across her cheeks - at least, he doesn't think he's imagining it - is proof that he heard her right.

"Er, you too," he manages, stumbling over his words and almost immediately mentally berating himself for it. How the hell is he so smooth sometimes and an absolute fucking disaster at others?

If she catches on to his awkwardness though, she doesn't show it. "How's work? Are you still at Sleekeazy's?"

When he'd graduated uni, with a degree in English Literature of all things that he had no idea how to apply in the real world, he'd panicked and taken the first job available to him - which just so happened to be in the marketing department of his dad's massive haircare company.

It turned out he kind of enjoyed the marketing aspect, but working for a hair company was… not his thing, to say the least.

"Nah, I left that about a year and a half ago," he tells her. "Now I'm working as a deputy communications director for a small nonprofit."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he answers, finally shifting the car into gear so that they can start off on this eight-hour journey of theirs. "It's all about providing resources for homeless LGBTQ youth - I don't know if you've ever seen Albus Dumbledore in a news article or anything, but it's his organisation."

"Wait, oh my god, I read his book last year!" Lily says, almost excitedly. "He's incredible, and the work he's doing for those kids is awesome."

"Yeah, he's a pretty solid guy," he confirms. "I really like it - I feel like I'm actually doing something good in the world, you know? And I just - god, so many of those kids remind me of Sirius as a teenager, except without anywhere to go when their parents kicked them out."

He's still not over the way Sirius was treated as a teenager, the way he'd arrived at the Potter's doorstep one January night during sixth form, shivering from the cold and sporting a massive bruise along the side of his face. He's pretty positive that, if he ever comes across any of Sirius' piece-of-shit homophobic family members ever again, he's not going to be able to fight back the urge to punch them right in the jaw, even though he knows that wouldn't accomplish anything.

But this… doing what he does now, it feels like accomplishing something.

"Hm, I'm surprised Remus never said anything about you changing jobs whenever you came up in conversation," Lily muses.

… They talk about him? Lily talks about him?

"I dunno," he says, flipping his turn signal on to turn left on Hendon. "Are you still working as a researcher for that ecological reserve?"

He already knows the answer is 'yes' - he'd panicked and called Remus almost immediately after Lily had proposed this whole road trip thing, and asked him for basically everything he knew about Lily since graduation - but he figures he'll ask the question anyways. Lily doesn't have to know that he's been a bit of a nervous wreck about this road trip, after all.

"I am," she answers cheerfully. "Still spending most of my day hanging out with frogs instead of humans."

"Well, good to know at least one of us actually found a good way to apply our degree," he jokes.

"Please," she replies, and from the tone of her voice alone, James can tell that she's both smiling and looking at him reproachfully all at once. "Don't tell me you don't still throw random literary references into everyday conversation."

He wracks his brain for an appropriate one to say in response, and goes with the first thing that comes to mind. " 'A word is dead when it is said, some say. I say it just begins to live that day.' "

She laughs brightly. "Some things never change." She pauses for a moment, then adds, "Fuck, what's that from? I feel like I should know it, but…"

"Dickinson." he answers, filling in the gap left by her silence.

"Oh, didn't you write a whole essay on how she was probably a lesbian at one point?" she asks.

"No," James defends immediately, immediately thinking back to the incident she's referring to. "Sirius used find and replace to replace every single instance of the word 'literary' with 'lesbian' in one of my final essays that term, and I only noticed ten minutes before I was set to turn it in."

"You should've kept it that way," she tells him. "I feel like most literature tutors would eat that shit right up."

James shrugs. "Honestly, you're probably right."

They fall into a comfortable silence for a few minutes, but it quickly becomes a bit more uncomfortable when it's just the hum of the car's engine and the sounds of the city around them.

"Do you have any music?" Lily asks finally.

He honestly can't believe he'd somehow forgotten about the playlist entirely - there'd just been something about talking to her, catching up and immediately feeling like almost no time had passed at all, that had completely wiped his mind of everything else. "Oh. Yeah," he replies, grabbing his phone out of the cupholder and unlocking it. "There's a road trip playlist on my Spotify - just turn that on."

"You have a whole road trip playlist?" she asks, taking the phone from him and navigating to his Spotify app. "Oh god, this is brilliant."

She hits play, and is already singing along on the first note. "I promise that you'll never find another like me!"

And he finds himself thinking that no, he definitely won't.

***

They're less than an hour out of the city, driving along the M1, when James decides to make their first stop of the day.

"I don't know about you," James says to Lily, who's been alternating between singing along to the music playing through the speakers and exchanging stories about their lives since graduation, "but I desperately need some coffee right about now and there's a Costa coming up."

"Still addicted to caffeine, are we?" she teases.

"Not as bad as I was in uni," he replies. "I don't get four espresso shots in my lattes anymore, at the very least."

"Probably for the best," she agrees.

"Do you still only drink those Belgian Chocolate Frostinos in the summer?" he asks, remembering just how many times he and Sirius had ribbed her for her 'wimpy' taste in coffee beverages.

"Don't say that with such a tone of disdain," she shoots back. "They're basically a coffee milkshake - how could you not like that? But also, I can't believe you still remember my coffee order."

He's not sure he could forget anything about her - even something as simple as her (terrible) coffee order - even if he tried. But he tries to play it off without acknowledging just how many little details about her that he's got memorised. "Your shit taste in coffee is pretty hard to forget."

"Those are fighting words, James Potter," she replies playfully. "And here I was about to offer to pay for your coffee since you're the one driving - but now you've come for Frostinos in a way I can't accept."

"They're not bad," he retorts. "They're just a weak drink."

"Ah right, because you're the expert on strong drinks. It's not like you were too scared to shoot tequila until our third year or anything like that."

He doesn't point out that he still hates shooting tequila to this day, and will only do it when he's already sufficiently plastered as to not remember his distaste for them. "Yeah, well, if you recall correctly, there was one night our first year where I was the only one who didn't do three rounds of tequila shots, and coincidentally was also the only one who didn't end up puking in the bushes in George Square Gardens."

"And you missed an important rite of passage in that moment," she informs him seriously, just as they're pulling into the Costa Coffee.

"Somehow, I don't feel all that deprived," he replies, parking and turning the car off.

She laughs. "Well, you can't miss what you've never had."

They both get out of the car, falling into step on their way into the café. And he's kind of surprised, in that moment, to realise just how easy all of this has been. The way they've fallen into conversation and good-natured teasing so easily makes it seem like it's only been hours since they last saw one another, not years. Being with her is almost effortless - sans the few times she's nearly made him forget how to breathe - and he's…

Fuck, he's not even a little bit over her.

One hour in a car is apparently all he needed to go right back to being head over heels for her, which is only slightly alarming; at this rate, he'll probably be ready to propose marriage by the time they get to Edinburgh in seven more hours.

Which is nothing short of ridiculous - honestly, he doesn't even know if she's seeing someone, for heaven's sake. Remus had said she wasn't, but those things can change at the drop of a hat, and Lily's an absolute fucking catch, so he really wouldn't be even a little surprised if she's somehow in a committed relationship that Remus doesn't know about.

"Okay, but seriously," Lily says, looking up at him, "what do you want to drink? It's my treat."

"You don't have to," he answers automatically.

"You're literally sitting behind the wheel of a car for eight hours while I fuck around on my phone because we both know I hate driving - let me buy you a damn coffee, Potter."

He doesn't actually want to fight her on this - and she'd win anyways - so he surrenders pretty easily. "Fine - I'll have a flat white."

They get their drinks - James' in a tiny cup and Lily's in a much larger one complete with whipped cream and chocolate syrup - and set out on the road again.

The drive itself is pretty nondescript - they're just driving down the same freeway for an absurdly long amount of time - so they have to come up with other things to pass the time. At one point, Lily just starts scrolling through a list of Shakespeare quotes to see if James can give the play they came from - he only misses like two or three, and one of those was from Titus Andronicus, and he fucking hates that play so he feels like that one's an acceptable miss.

And then somehow, they end up in a super nostalgic conversation of some of their most notable shared moments at university.

"Do you remember the day we met?"

If James could bang his head against the steering wheel without putting both him and Lily in serious danger, he would. "Unfortunately."

Then he quickly corrects himself, lest she somehow interpret that the wrong way. "Not because of meeting you - just because of the fact that I made a total arse of myself."

"Yeah, I was pretty convinced I was going to hate you," she replies, amused. "And I'm pretty sure I told Remus that multiple times the first time the two of us went over to hang out with you and Sirius."

"Well, I fucking deserved it."

He'd been a first year, in a starting position on the football team and far too hyped up by the university population than any eighteen-year-old ever should be, and that newfound popularity had completely gone to his head. He'd thought he was on top of the world, that he could get anything he wanted, anyone he wanted.

It had been some freshers party that he and Sirius had pregamed just a little too much, and by the time they'd shown up to the actual event, James felt fucking invincible.

"You must've tried to hit on me… what, five separate times? All worse pick-up lines than the ones before?"

He groans. "Yes, I was a drunk asshole who thought you were the prettiest girl in the room and that as a result we were obviously a match made in heaven. I clearly made some pretty shitty decisions that night."

"So who was the prettiest girl in the room that night then?"

James falters, and it's a good thing the car's set on cruise because his foot might've just fallen off the gas pedal otherwise. "What?"

"You said you made some pretty shitty decisions that night, one of which was that I was the prettiest girl in the room," she answers, sounding nonchalant in a way that James thinks might be forced. "If it wasn't me, who was it, in your much-more-sober-now opinion?"

What the fuck kind of question is that?

He grapples with what she's just asked for a moment - is she somehow trying to gauge who he thinks is the fittest bird they went to school with? And why does she even care about that? And how on earth is he meant to answer this in a way that doesn't end with her getting upset with him?

Eventually, he just decides to go for honesty, but he keeps his eyes steadfastly on the road ahead of him when he answers. "Actually, that was perhaps the only non-shitty decision I made that night. You were easily the prettiest girl there - in both my drunk and sober opinions."

It's silent between the two of them for a few moments. "Oh."

And then a second later, "So you're not seeing Emmeline Vance?"

That might be an even weirder question than the last one. Emmeline had been on the women's football team, and they'd been close, but his feelings towards her have never been anything even remotely more than friendly. "No," he tells her immediately. "Where'd you get that idea from?"

"I… I don't know," she replies, and she sounds almost… nervous? "You posted a picture with her on Instagram a few weeks ago and I just… I don't know, I just thought maybe - "

"We were just catching up over dinner," he explains. "We're definitely not, you know, anything close to… that."

"Oh. That's… good, I guess."

That's good? Honestly, how the fresh hell is he meant to interpret that?

For some reason, the thing that comes out of his mouth next isn't a request for an explanation. Instead, it's a stilted "Are you? You know, seeing anyone?"

"I'm not."

"I… good to know."

Fuck, for all that James had been thinking that they were so good at not being awkward just an hour or so ago, they're sure being whole ass disasters right now. And honestly, 'good to know'? Were they not just talking about the time he'd drunkenly hit on her despite her not showing any interest? And his response to finding out that she's single is to say something that… practically implies he plans on using that information later?

Foot, meet mouth.

They settle into a slightly uncomfortable silence, and it's just John Mayer coming through the speakers.

I want to know the real thing about you, so I can see you in a new light…

***

The tension doesn't last much longer, because James' stomach starts growling and it becomes apparent that they'll need to stop for lunch soon.

"Do you want me to look up some good places to stop?" Lily asks, fishing her phone out of her bag.

"Yeah, that'd be good."

She sits back up in her seat. "Oh fuck, mine's dead - I completely forgot to charge it last night. Can I use yours instead?"

"Go for it," he replies. He unlocks the phone for her and hands it over, letting her find some random little sandwich place near Leicester that looks decent.

They decide to sit and eat instead of trying to eat on the road, and sitting across from her in a little two-person booth unexpectedly feels very much like they're on a date.

He feels his hands start to get clammy as they sit down with their food - despite the fact that his brain knows full well this isn't anything resembling a date and that they're just eating here together out of necessity and a need to stretch their limbs, he still can't help but feel something between them - some sort of energy that he can't quite put his finger on - that makes this seem like perhaps there's more to it.

But he's definitely just thinking too far into things. Lily's shown absolutely no signs of getting a similar vibe from, happily chatting with him as she eats.

The topic of Sirius and Remus suddenly comes up - fitting, really, as it's their wedding that they're headed to at the moment.

"How does it feel, knowing that your two closest friends are going to be getting married this time tomorrow?"

James just shrugs. "Honestly, with the way they act, it's basically like they've been married for a while. I just want the actual ceremony part over with so that mum can stop frantically texting me about it every five minutes."

"Oh yeah, I saw that," she tells him. "You had a few messages come in from her when I was changing songs."

James takes that moment to thank his lucky stars that his mum doesn't know he's driving up to the wedding with Lily; otherwise, he's sure she would've texted him a million times today about her, which would've been… awkward to explain away, at the very least.

"None of it was all that important though - she just likes having someone to report everything back to, and apparently that's my job in this case."

"Somehow, I doubt she'd be pleased to know you were calling her texts 'unimportant'," she teases, taking a sip of her drink.

"And you better not tell her," he warns, but he can't even keep the grin off his face as he does so.

"Fine, I'll keep quiet, if only to save your head," she replies after a moment of thought.

Then she changes the subject entirely. "But man, I'm thrilled for Sirius and Remus. Meeting the love of your life in the first month of uni is basically the dream, isn't it?"

Well yes, James wants to reply, but only when they also feel the same way.

But he doesn't voice anything even remotely close to that - they've only just gotten over their last bout of awkwardness, and he'd quite like to avoid any more of those if he can help it.

He shrugs, playing way cooler than he actually feels. "Yeah, I guess. At the very least, it's convenient for all those themed parties - they always went in some sort of couples costume."

"Says the bloke who wore basically the same costume for like half of them."

"Hey," he argues, "if the theme fits, why not go with an old standard?"

She laughs. "You really did get a whole lot of mileage out of those reindeer antlers."

He reflects back on that fondly - he honestly might still have that same pair of reindeer antlers somewhere, probably boxed up at his parents' house with some other memorabilia from university. "I really think my favourite was that pun party though, where I did the whole toga thing as well and called it 'deer god.' "

She gives him a look like she can see straight through him. "You just liked that one because you got to walk around shirtless and make all the girls in the college swoon over you."

"All the girls? Does that include you, Evans?" It's overly cheeky - and exactly the type of shit he would've pulled the first night they met - and he worries briefly that he might've gone too far this time.

She coughs, and it takes her a few seconds to answer him. "Obviously not. It takes a lot more to sway me than a bloke wearing a bedsheet as clothing."

He's strangely disappointed by that response, but he doesn't really know what else he was expecting either. That she was somehow magically swept off her feet by the mere sight of him?

No, Lily requires much more than appearances to be wooed, something he perhaps knows better than anyone.

"Sounds about right," he replies, and there's definitely a little bitterness in his tone that he wishes wasn't there. "At least mine was better than Pete's costume that night."

"Oh god," she laughs, "that was when he wore the nightstand, wasn't it? He was dressed as a 'one night stand' or something like that?"

"Yep. Seemed to think it would get him laid, for reasons I still don't fully understand."

Lily shakes her head. "Honestly, not his best plan. I'd rather go home with a bloke in a bedsheet than a bloke wearing a literal table."

James almost chokes on his sandwich at that. It probably means nothing, but god, the casual implication of going home with him almost does him in entirely.

He maintains that she really might be the death of him before they even make it to Edinburgh. Sirius is just going to have to find a new best man, because James is going to be fully out-of-commission by that point.

If he had maybe just the tiniest bit more courage - and, er, wasn't going to be stuck in a car with her for another four hours or so - he might say something about that comment. Or about a lot of her behaviour today, really.

But he stays silent, their conversation giving way to the song playing over the café speakers, Lily absentmindedly humming along with the lyrics while she waits for him to finish eating.

And I'm on my way, driving at ninety down those country lanes -

He makes a mental note to add more Ed Sheeran to their playlist.

***

They're more than halfway there now; after lunch, Lily had fallen asleep for what was honestly less than half an hour, but somehow seems like the end of the world to her.

"I'm supposed to keep you company, not fall asleep and leave you to fend for yourself," she says, in the middle of what must her fifth apology.

"I can handle driving alone for a little bit - it's fine, Lily," he tells her.

He doesn't mention that, when she'd fallen asleep, elbow resting on the centre console and head in her hand, she'd practically been resting against his shoulder, and he hadn't really minded that one bit.

"I'll be awake for the rest of the drive though," she insists. "We're only, what, three hours away now?"

"I've not got a map open, but that sounds about right," he replies.

Truthfully, he's just been driving along the A1 without paying much attention to their ETA - he figures it'll be awhile before any driving directions become relevant again.

"Well then, I've got three hours left of not taking any more naps," she answers simply. "Here, let me put on some good hype-up music."

He unlocks his phone and hands it to her again. "I've got no shortage of that."

She scrolls through the playlist for a little bit before finding something she's satisfied with. They start talking again - Lily tells him some story about the bar her roommate Marlene works at that somehow involves a low-level celebrity, a rubber chicken, and a real chicken; it's so absurd that, if she didn't swear up and down that she's got pictures of the whole thing that she'll show him when he's not driving, he'd definitely think she'd invented the whole thing.

"How do you somehow confuse those two?" he can't help but ask.

"I mean, it's a bar. Alcohol makes idiots of us all."

"Somehow I don't think I've ever been so drunk that I put a rubber chicken in a carrying pen and let a live chicken loose in a bar," he replies with a snort.

"Yeah, okay, that part was particularly stupid," she concedes, and the music suddenly shifts to a slow ballad. "Okay, we're definitely changing this."

She picks up his phone. "Shit, it's locked again."

He takes a hand off the wheel and holds it out to her. "Here, hand it to me, I'll unlock it."

"Just tell me your passcode," she replies. "I promise I'm not going to steal your phone or anything."

He lets out a short laugh at that. "Yeah, okay, it's not like you can make a run for it with my phone while I'm going seventy down the freeway. It's Lily: 5-4-5-9."

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees her freeze like a deer in headlights, and it's only then that he realises the magnitude of what he just said.

She's his fucking phone password - granted, she has been since uni and he's kept the password for so long because that pattern of screen taps is just automatic at this point, but still.

It's honestly a miracle he doesn't somehow crash the car right then and there.

The silence between them lingers for a few moments longer, the only sound coming from the One Direction song still playing through the speakers.

"Your phone password is… me?"

Much to his surprise, Lily doesn't actually sound entirely repulsed by this revelation; instead, she just sounds genuinely stunned.

"It's nothing," he replies, his words coming out in a rush instead of the cool, casual way he'd hoped they would. And really, if he were panicking slightly less right now, he might've come up with a good cover - some other Lily he knew, or literally anything other than a clear acknowledgement that yes, she is his phone password, but alas.

"No, it's not nothing." She's back to her normal tone again. "And if nothing else, I'd like to at least know why - maybe not necessarily while you're driving, but at the very least, at our next pit stop."

He… yeah, he supposes owes her that much.

But how does he even explain that away without revealing exactly how he's felt about her for all these years? And while they've seemed perfectly friendly for this whole trip - and for a few brief moments, maybe even more than that - he's not sure how confessing that he's basically been in love with her for five years now will affect that comfortable camaraderie of theirs.

"Okay, yeah, that's fair," he concedes, tightening his grip on the wheel and vowing not to look over at her, not to reveal anything just yet.

"We'll stop at the next rest area then?"

"Sounds good," he answers, and an awkward silence settles over them again. Lily obviously doesn't want to type her own name into his phone to unlock it, so the radio continues to play the same slow One Direction love song. And as soon as the chorus starts, he has to fight off the urge to outwardly cringe, because god, what the fuck was he thinking, putting a song that hits quite so close to home on this playlist?

I have loved you since we were eighteen, long before we both thought the same thing...

Luckily (or unluckily, he's not entirely sure which), there's a rest area just a few kilometres away.

It's good that he's saved from spending too much longer stewing in the aftermath of his own stupidity, but not-so-good in the fact that he now has very little time to figure out just how to express all of this.

He's still mentally running through his options - does he tell her the full truth? part of it? a bold-faced lie that he hopes she doesn't call him out on? - when he pulls into a parking space. He takes as long as humanly possible to put the car in park and turn it off, entertaining the vague fantasy that maybe if he stalls just a little bit longer, the perfect way to handle this situation will just pop into his head.

He doesn't get that massive epiphany, but his prolonged silence does result in Lily being the first to speak. "I'm going to tell you something, but in exchange, you have to promise to be totally, one-hundred percent honest with me."

That seems like a massively risky gamble, but James honestly doesn't think it's actually possible to dig himself into a deeper hole than the one he's already dug himself - so what's the harm, really?

"Okay."

And if he thought he even had an inkling of an idea of what she was going to say, he's very swiftly proven wrong. "I've fancied you since our second year at UoE."

She's… "What?"

"Do you remember the night of that pun party we were talking about earlier? When you were dressed up in those reindeer antlers and a bedsheet?"

"Er… yes," he replies slowly, entirely unaware of where this is going.

"That was the night Petunia uninvited me from her wedding, do you remember that?" she adds, and when James looks over at her, she's looking at her hands folded across her lap.

He does remember that, actually, although he'd never thought much of it having any deeper significance until now. He'd found her outside the college bar, sitting on one of the steps and staring numbly at her phone, and he'd just… he'd done what any good friend ought to do.

"You found me outside and just… dropped everything. You left your friends and that girl you'd been flirting with all night and took me to that greasy chippy that we both know you hated and went back to my place with me and watched Heathers with me for maybe the hundredth time and didn't leave until it was almost three a.m. even though you had an early morning football practice because you wanted to be sure I was okay."

She looks up, meeting his eyes. "And it's a little ridiculous that it took Petunia's cruelty to make me realise it, because I mean, that wasn't like the first time I'd realised you were capable of being nice or anything - I'd known that, and I'd known I liked you as a person and thought you were fit and all that, awful first impressions be damned, but something… when you left that night and it hit me that you'd magically replaced all that hurt and betrayal with something better, something just clicked."

He's silent for a few moments, processing everything she's just said. "Why didn't you say anything?"

It's the most hypocritical question in the history of hypocritical questions, given his own silence on his feelings for her, but it comes out of his mouth nonetheless.

"I don't know," she answers, looking away from him again. "I didn't know how you felt about me, and I didn't want to do anything while we were at school that was going to mess up our friend group, and then we'd graduated and I'd never said anything and it felt too little too late at that point."

"You… didn't know how I felt about you?" he asks dumbly. "I spent the first night I met you just constantly hitting on you - I feel like that's pretty damn obvious."

"And you were completely plastered and apologised for it profusely afterwards and avoided the subject any time it came up again - it didn't exactly seem like it was a feeling you maintained while sober."

"Because I felt like a twat!" he defends. "And you'd very clearly shown me you weren't interested, so I wasn't about to keep flirting with you after that. But honestly, I'm not great at being subtle - Sirius, Remus, and Peter were constantly giving me shit for acting like an idiot around you. I'm not sure how you never noticed."

"So this is… oh god, this is why Remus was so keen that I drive up to the wedding with you," she says, sounding like she's suddenly had an epiphany of sorts.

He's entirely thrown off-guard by her once again. "What?"

"I was… god, this is embarrassing to admit out loud, but I was talking to Remus a few weeks ago and I started asking about you... and Remus, er, knows about my feelings and he gave me the idea that maybe I should use their wedding weekend as a chance to catch up with you and… fuck, now that I think about it, he was definitely giving really heavy hints that you fancied me back in uni as well."

"Oh my god," James says, realisation suddenly dawning on him, "that dirty double agent."

"Double agent?"

"As soon as you texted me about driving up together, I panicked and called Remus, and the fucker acted entirely oblivious to the whole thing," he explains, his eureka moment entirely outweighing any potential embarrassment he might've felt about telling her that. "Said you probably just wanted to 'spend some quality time with me' or… oh."

That was definitely meant as a hint.

"So all of this was Remus playing matchmaker," Lily concludes. "Or, not even matchmaker really, just…"

"Apparently he came to the conclusion that putting us in a car together for eight hours would be the only way one of us would finally pluck up the courage to say something," he finishes.

"Although I suppose neither of us actually did that… at least not on purpose."

Now that the initial shock has worn off, it starts to sink in that oh my god, she actually has feelings for him - that she's had them for five whole years now.

She looks at him a bit mischievously, and he realises that they've somehow leaned in towards each other over the course of the conversation. "You still haven't told me why my name is your phone password."

Instead of telling her why, he shows her, because they've got so, so much lost time to make up for. One of his hands comes up to cup her cheek, delicately, as he takes in the feeling of her skin against his hands and commits it to memory, and he closes the remaining gap between the two of them and presses his lips against her own.

It takes them a second to get things right - on Lily's part because it takes her a second to realise what's happening, and on James' part because he can't stop fucking smiling and it's making the kissing part difficult, but once they find their rhythm… holy fuck is it a rhythm.

One of her hands curls around the collar of his T-shirt as she deepens the kiss, and they're at such an awkward angle because they're literally in the driver and passenger seats of a car, but none of that even matters because he's kissing Lily Evans and she's kissing him back and it's quite literally everything he'd ever hoped it would be and more.

Everything he has, everything he's felt for the last six years, he's pouring into this. And maybe he should be nervous about that level of intensity of it, nervous that it's too much for a first kiss after she's only just told him that she likes him too, but he… he's never had much self-control when it comes to her, and this seems to be no exception. He doesn't think he could tone it down even if he wanted to.

One of his hands slides down her side, and she makes a soft little moaning sound into the kiss that practically does him in. When he'd thought to himself that she was going to be the death of him, he hadn't exactly pictured it happening this way, but he's quite okay with it.

Although then again, he'd actually like to do quite a bit more of this before dying, so maybe scratch that. He can't snog the girl of his dreams if he's dead.

Her hand slides from his collar and down his chest, and he's hyper-aware of everywhere her fingers touch, and -

BEEEEEEP.

He jumps back immediately, removing his offending elbow from where it had accidentally collided with the car's horn. "Shit!"

Lily laughs, and when James looks at her, she's flushed and her lips are a little swollen, and he did that. "Cars are perhaps not the best place for impromptu snogging sessions," she says, smirking just a little.

"No, not really," he agrees. "Not sure why there are so many songs about it."

"I think those usually involve making use of the backseat instead."

He glances at the backseat of his car, which doesn't actually have all that much stuff in it, but at the same time...

He's pretty sure that, if they keep going, he's not going to want to stop. And while shagging in the back of a car may be another one of those things that people like writing songs about, he'd much rather prefer, say, a hotel bed for that type of thing.

Lily must notice his apprehension, because she laughs again. "I'm not proposing we start snogging in your backseat," she tells him. "We can wait until we get to the hotel."

"How far away is that again?" He knows he asked that question not too long ago, but he's honestly completely forgotten the answer in the time since then.

A lot has happened in that time period, sue him.

"A little under three hours."

A little under three hours. That's practically no time at all. He can do that.

When they finally pull out of the rest area parking lot and get back on the road, James turns the music volume back up again, and it's a rather fitting song for the way Lily's hand is currently reaching over the centre console and resting on his thigh.

Can't keep my hands to myself - I mean I could, but why would I want to?

***

It turns out that three hours actually feels like an endlessly long amount of time when faced with a newfound impatience to get to one's destination.

They're just as chatty as they were before - the only thing that's changed from the first half of their trip is that there are noticeably fewer weird moments between the two of them… which, in hindsight, all suddenly make a lot of sense now. Well, that, and the way Lily's hands will occasionally reach over and rest on his knee, his shoulder, his bicep, and linger there for just a few moments, like she's trying to confirm that he's still real, like all of this is still real.

He doesn't fully blame her; he still can't really believe it's real either.

But after approximately one hundred and eighty agonising minutes in the car, they pull into the hotel where everyone's rooms for the wedding are booked. His parking job is… definitely not his best work, but he's not spending a single moment more in this car than necessary.

He opens the boot and retrieves his own bag, and just like on the way here, he lets her pick up her duffel bag herself. But as soon as the car's locked, he can't stop himself from sliding his free hand into her own, because he's no longer in the driver's seat of a car anymore and he's finally free to do something with his hands besides hold onto a steering wheel.

"I'm assuming… did you book a hotel room with Pete?" Lily asks him, as they fall into step.

"Nah, I got my own room," he answers. He hadn't had a specific reason not to share a room when he'd made his reservation, but god is he grateful for it now.

"So did I," she replies.

He almost wants to ask her to just stay in his, but he's not sure… maybe it's too soon for that? Or too forward?

So he bites his tongue, content to just run his thumb along the back of her hand as they walk into the hotel lobby and up to the desk.

"Hi, we need to check into our rooms?"

The concierge looks up from her computer at the both of them, almost disinterestedly. "Last name?"

"There's two separate rooms," James clarifies. "One under James Potter, one under Lily Evans."

The woman starts pulling up their room details, and James can't help but look over at Lily while they wait. He's spent three whole hours waiting to kiss her again - which isn't that much time, in the grand scheme of things, but they're making up for five years of lost time - and now they're so close. All he needs is their damn room keys, and he can invite her up to his for a little bit before dinner, and -

"It looks like you two are booked in the same room, actually."

James' head snaps up to look at the concierge again. "I didn't - "

She scrolls a little. "It looks like the change was made by the wedding party who owns the block of room reservations."

The... wedding party? That means -

He and Lily come to the same realisation at the same time. "Remus," they both say aloud, almost in unison.

"Yes?"

James whirls around to find both of his best friends, sitting on a couch in the lobby with drinks in hand. How he missed them when they walked in is a mystery, but he supposes he might've been a bit preoccupied with other things.

He blinks at the two of them, trying to form words. "You - you changed my hotel reservation?"

Remus smirks at him. "No, that was all Sirius."

"And technically," Sirius chimes in, "I didn't change your reservation at all. I just cancelled Lily's."

"I - why?"

"Because Remus here had to listen to not one, but both of you go on about each other in the weeks leading up to this weekend, and there was quite enough of you two being mutually pining idiots in university for it to still be continuing to this day," Sirius explains, throwing an arm around his fiancé. "So it felt necessary to take matters into our own hands… although, from the looks of things, you two have managed to sort things out already."

Sirius' eyes drop meaningfully, and James follows his gaze to realise that Lily's hand is still in his.

James opens his mouth to respond, but Lily beats him to the punch. "Finding out a bloke uses your name as his phone password mid-drive tends to do that, yeah. But if you'll excuse us, we've got a shared hotel room to take advantage of, so…"

She flashes the room key at the two of them - James isn't sure when she managed to collect it from the woman at the desk, but she's got it nonetheless - and he feels his heart fill with affection for her all over again.

And he also very, very much wants to follow through on her plan.

"We'll see you tonight," he says hurriedly, and he's quite positive that his friends are going to have a nice laugh at how quickly he drags Lily over to the elevators.

Does he care? Absolutely fucking not.

It's practically a mad dash to their room after that - it seems Lily is just as impatient as he is - and they've only been in the room long enough to set their bags on the floor before Lily has absolutely eliminated even the slightest breath of air between their bodies, rising up on her tiptoes and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"So, what do you say? Worth the drive?" She's got a sly smile on her face, and her green eyes are positively sparkling.

"Without question," he confirms, his hands settling on her hips almost automatically as he drops his head down, resting his forehead against hers.

There's a beat, a breath, and then her lips are on his all over again.

His reaction is instantaneous, one hand tangling in her hair while the other wraps tighter around her waist, and god, it's even better the second time - although that's likely at least in part due to the fact that they're not at some weird angle in James' tiny car this time around.

It's safe to say that absolutely none of this was what he was anticipating when he picked Lily up from her apartment in Camden Town this morning, but he's more than happy with the results.

One short little road trip, that's all it was, and it got him this.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

CSUAVS prt 13 start... middle...

Floating in space, Lance had found the small shower on the pod he'd lifted. Between the control room and the pod was a blur. A literal blur. He remembered shooting the control panels until they sparked up, but couldn't remember making his way down to the pod, nor escaping Klearo's ship before it exploded. When he came too, he'd found himself floating. His body too tender to move from the cold floor, as everything else came back with frightening clarity. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. They said that pride came before the fall, and now he'd fallen so low he didn't know how he was supposed to recover. His skin itched, his hair stank, his body covered in God only knew what... and between his legs... raising a hand, his eyes widened at the dried blood. He'd... shot... everyone... Curling in on himself he started to scream. His voice wrecked from everything else he'd been through. Appearing beside him, Allura stroked his hair. Her soft voice telling him to let go. When his tears dried, he gathered himself up. Stripping off the layers of soiled clothes until he was naked again. These small pods were used from ship to planet transport, they held the very basics. That's why there was a small first aid kit, a blanket, a change of clothes and tiny bathroom area on each pod. Klearo expected his minions to be spotless and prim each time they appeared before an audience. He owed him nothing, and if he was in the right frame of mind he might even laugh over the fact the man was so prepared as he stepped into his first shower in movements. The heat of the water falling around him felt like razor blades against his skin. His bloodied and bleeding backside the worst of all his injuries. His nails scraping the fragile scabby skin in his desperation to rid himself of what was left inside. Blood swirling through the brown tinged water as silent tears formed again. How was he supposed to ever go home after this? How did he smile again? How did he hold his head high and ignore the pain? Rubbing his skin until the flesh felt so raw it no longer existed, he couldn't get clean. He could feel those large hands pining down his hips. The hands holding his mouth open, a bleeding mouth from where the gag tore at his skin didn't appeal to his holders. It didn't matter. Once he screamed himself out, they stopped gagging him in favour of covering his mouth with their sweaty palms. If he closed his eyes, he'd be slapped for misbehaving. Yet that wasn't what really broke him. What broke him was Allura watching the whole time. Her standing there with no words of comfort, or attempt to interfere. It wasn't like he'd been raped by that many member of Klearo's bizarre cult. Only three or four Galra, and the man himself. The rest preferred to be there while he was tortured. Laughing as he pissed himself in fear. Laughing as they threatened his friends. His family. To leak the videos of their time together. Staying there long after the water went cold, he wasn't ready to leave the safety of the small space. There was barely enough space to sit, but with three solid metal walls, and glass screen in front of him, the space was small and safe. He was still there when the Erathian police boarded the stolen pod. Klearo had reported his ship having been attacked by "space pirates", so when they'd finally tracked down one of the pods, they were eager to apprehend whoever was inside. This was when he met Kre'el. The woman looked like angel in his broken mind. Soft honey blonde hair, blue shimmering eyes, a nose like a pig's... he didn't care. She wasn't a full Galra, and she wasn't there to hurt him. Unable to communicate that he'd been the one to destroy the ship, he was moved from pod to the main ship. From there he was returned to Erathus, where his journey had begun. Organising for him to call his mother, Kre'el sat by his side as he bullshitted his arse off about how well the job had gone. She was concerned enough as it was. Three movements. He'd only left Earth a phoeb ago. His mind couldn't process it. It'd felt like years. How could someone break from something so brief? He felt weak. Weak and worthless. He ended the call with a heavy heart. As he passed the black communicator back to Kre'el, she shook her head and insisted he keep it, because she may have a job for him. The last thing he wanted a was a job. He didn't even want to be, yet, due to her soft ways, Kre'el was the first friend he made at the Erathian police department. Released from hospital only three short days later, Lance was picked up Kre'el and one of her coworkers. Taken from the hospital to the police station, he was slightly lost as to why he was there. Scared by the sheer amount of people, by the Galra looking his way, he'd learned that scent seemed to be particularly appealing to that of the Galra and when one moved to approach him, he damn near screamed. God. He knew he looked so lame. He was filled with anger and fear. Telling himself that Lance went through it all, not Leandro wasn't working as well as it had on Klearo's ship. Under the fluorescent lights of the building he was very clearly a victim, the one thing he didn't want people to see. Whether they thought it or not, neither officer said anything as they continued through the building, both walking slow to keep up him on his crutches. An elevator up to another floor, another long corridor and with no idea how to escape, their snail like pace finally came to end in front of a grey door. For a moment Lance blanched. The plainness of the door reminding him of the plainness of his cell. Opening the door for him, Kre'el waited for him to limp in, before her partner came in to join him. Across half the wall were photos of Klearo. Photos of him, and the rest of the man's security team. Boxes of documents lay around half packed, as Lance simply stared in shock. Klearo's name had gone unsaid. How he'd ended up how he had, went unsaid. The roughness of his voice explained by a long night, to his mother at any rate "Wha... what is all of this?" "An investigation into Klearo. Please take a seat, former Paladin Lance. We need to talk" "Helo, you're going to scare him off before we've even had time to talk. You're not the best at conversations. Lance, take a seat please. You're probably really confused, and you're probably the only one who can help at the moment" Lance. He didn't want to be Lance. Lance was a loser, Touching his tender throat, he coughed "Leandro... it's my proper name" "Leandro then. Helo is a little socially stunted. Helo, why don't you pick up his things from lock up? I'll begin explaining things to him" Helo sighed at Kre'el. The blue skinned alien seemed smitten by the female officer. There was no malice as he replied "You should have told me while we were downstairs. Now I have to go all the way back down" "Ensuring La-Leandro's security came first. This hasn't exactly been sanctioned by our boss" Shrugging his shoulders, Helo kept his steps light as he moved across the room. Lance's heart starting to race at how soundless the movement was. If he wanted, Lance was sure Helo could kill him before he even knew what had happened "It's your arse, not mine" "Thank you!" Kre'el waited until the door was closed again before sitting down next to him so their knees were nearly touching "I know you've been through a lot, but I first want you to know you are under no obligation to talk about whatever happened on that ship. As you can see, we've been investigating Klearo for some time. On the surface he presents himself as an ambassador, travelling from planet to planet to talk about peace now that the Galra reign has ended. Underneath we have confirmation that he's involved in everything. Guns. Drugs. Weapons. Child trafficking. We are also aware of his almost fanatical desire to possess on of Voltron's Lions as his own" So everyone but him had known? The police had known... and... done nothing? The man was pure evil... and they'd let him walk? His fingertips dug into his palms. Why hadn't anyone told? "We want to help you with your mission" Lance's head snapped up. His mission? Tilting his head sideways, he drew his brow "You were working to bring down Klearo, weren't you? You one piloted the Red Lion. The object of his desire, though if you ask me, I think he would have taken any lion could have gotten his hands on" If Kre'el hadn't been so kind, he probably would have lied... Allura didn't seem to like her as much as he did "N-no. I was hired for security before I realised something was wrong" It was a half lie. To cover what he'd been through... "Oh. You did take out his ship, however?" Nodding, he felt a little less stupid... ever so slightly less stupid "Leandro. What I want to ask is for your help. As police, we can't move like you can. We have to uphold the law, while letting someone like him go as he is an ambassador. I talked to my boss over this, but he thought you were on Klearo's payroll. He wanted to arrest you for your involvement in a hijacking that occurred last movement. Once I saw you for my self, I knew someone like you couldn't have been involved. A brave Paladin could never be involved. Especially as we'd recovered your belongings from Klearo's residence" "You don't know me" "I don't need to. Being part Galra myself, I've seen what they can do first hand. The day Voltron took the skies again was the happiest day of my life" Blurting out his question, Lance then dissolved into coughs "You're part Galra?!" "Yes. Not by choice. That's part of the reason I am coming to you. Klearo needs to be stopped, and we need an agent who can move freely" Agent... that's what he'd foolishly let himself be called and talked himself up as "An agent?" "A bounty hunter as such. We can set you up with a room through a local establishment" Shaking his head, Lance didn't know what to do next, only that he didn't trust the idea of working for someone again so soon "I can't..." "I saw your medical file. I know what you went through. You aren't the only one he's done this to. Can you really live with that? Even if you're done with him, he isn't done with you. He still wants a lion to secure his position. What if he goes after your friends? Or the Atlas? Your former Black Paladin is at its helm" He didn't want that. He didn't want anyone to suffer the shame he did. Or this festering, aching anger. Swallowing awkwardly, his eyes grew teary, his nails starting to cut into his palms. Because he'd been fed that weird yellow drug for so long, the hospital needed to wean him off slowly so he barely felt the deep divots "No... no... tell me what you need me to do" "You're being very brave, Leandro. I wish I had the time to take things slow with you. As it is..." "It's fine. Things were never that slow when I was in Voltron" He couldn't take sympathy or pity. If he stopped and waited again, he'd be responsible for what happened next "Alright. I understand. Helo is retrieving your belongings, then I'll take you to you the club. You'll be given a room there while I organise things on this end. You need official permission to take on bounty hunting, a police sponsor so to speak. We've been taken off the case, so I will be liaising with you in an official capacity for now. We may also ask that take on smaller cases. Arrests. Captures. Erathus has developed rapidly in the last two years, meaning we don't have the ability to be everywhere at once" "I don't care. I mean... I don't mind. As long as I can be useful" "Very useful. I won't ask for your trust, but I promise to always shoot straight" It was half a tick for Lance to realise she meant "she'd shoot straight from the hip" or "talk straight". All this bounty hunter thing felt like a Hollywood movie... He'd take a little glamour right about. Plus he needed all the resources he could gather if he was going to hunt down and gut Klearo. Kre'el was in the right position to help him... she'd also said she didn't expect trust, because he honestly wasn't sure he had any of that left. Standing behind him, Allura tried to dissuade him. She'd become more vocal in her protests of his actions, as if she was actually his ex. Nodding, Kre'el relaxed "Excellent. I'll take this as a formal agreement. Is there anything you need right now?" "Do you know anyone who can help hide these marks? They're hardly covert" "I think we can find some way to help with that. Are they functional?" They functioned as a reminder that his body was all kinds of wrong... "No. A reminder of the past" "Perhaps the hospital help? You have follow up appointments booked" "I won't need them. My body is different" "Are you sure?" "I'm sure" He was sure he didn't want to be touched. He didn't want to be examined. He didn't want to wake up screaming and scare everyone around. Holding her hand out, Lance nearly vomited as he shook it. Definitely a big fat no to physical contact "Thank you, Leandro. I look forward to working with you" * Lance hadn't expected to be living in a strip club when he'd moved to Erathus. Nor did he think he'd ever be labelled a prostitute. The second and third floors of the establishment he now called home were designated for such things. At first he couldn't sleep knowing people were doing "that" right beyond the doors to his room. Kre'el was friends with the owner, who was her cousins uncle's something or other on her father's side... it was long an complicated, but he got it. Everyone back home was family, no matter how many branches away they hung on the family tree. If it wasn't for Helo though, he probably would have still been holed up in his room, playing "Lance" who was perfectly happy and healthy. It was another sleepless night where the drugs he'd been given by the hospital were proving worthless in his blood system when there came a loud knock on his door. Pulling his recovered blaster out, the only thing he'd saved from the stuff he'd brought from earth... other than a photo of Varadero which was a whole other story, Lance cautiously crept over to his door as the stupid thing opened on its own. He hated that. He hated knowing anyone could let themselves in, yet it seemed some unwritten rule of the establishment that you didn't. A rule that was surprisingly followed. With a heft alien in his hold and his pants undone, Helo grunted a hello as he dragged the alien into Lance's space. Behind the pair of them was a tiny female alien. Her lip bloodied as she trembled. Looking at her was like looking at himself. Even if touch revolted him, he couldn't let her stand there. Opening the bathroom door, he retrieved the thin bathrobe, offering it to her as she eyed him in confusion "It's alright. You can come in. I'm Leandro" The alien woman smiled, covering herself with robe "Leah... you're the new one?" "In a way. Come through. He's an officer" Pining the suspect down on Lance's bed with knee, Helo struggled to keep him down "Leandro, back pocket" Right. That was him. His mind didn't need to be reminding him of how that position felt. Moving to Helo, he moved the man's jacket back to find a black tranq gun "Hit him in the neck" Between Helo and the alien called Leah, Lance was imploding over having three people suddenly forced into his space. Wanting them out, he did as he was told. A small rush of satisfaction coming as he pushed the muzzle to the aliens neck and squeezed. A few ticks later, the alien stopped his struggling. Wiping his brow, Helo stood back "Thanks. I had my hands full. Didn't expect to find him here" "Who is "he"? And do I want to know why your pants are undone?" Rushing to pull his fly up, Helo held his hand out for his gun "Drug deal. He mistakingly thought hitting the money meant he could hit a dancer. I'll call someone to come collect him" Helo failed at even basic politeness. Leah was still looking tiny "Are you alright?" "I... yes. Sometimes they get a little too forceful. I'm fine, thanks to you and your friend" "That's good. Sorry about, Helo. He forgets how to talk to people from time to time" Leah's face brightened "I was worried I was in trouble too" "A pretty lady like you, no. No, just this piece of quiznak here. You might want to take the night off though" "I think I will. Thank you, Leandro" The look Helo gave him was pointedly ignored as Leah let herself out, and despite the fact all he did was tranq the guy, it was listed as his first official assist as a bounty hunter. Leah was the first prostitute he met. It was her who introduced him to the others. They were the ones who taught him the ins and outs of the club, and the ones who introduced him to the "not so legal" doctor that helped the workers there. She showed him around Erathus, and where to get everything he could want or need in the way of clothes and food. It was also around that time that Kre'el and Helo both started reaching out to him, over who to keep an eye out for in the club. It wasn't getting him any closer to Klearo. The source of his anger and hatred, but making friends opened a whole new world to him. He could hold his own on a call with the old members of Voltron, Keith too when his previous best friend called... which was depressingly rare. It wasn't like any of them bothered to reply to his messages anymore. Even taking calls from home left him feeling depressed. He called Veronica regularly, knowing that if he didn't she'd bring the Atlas and that would cause way more dramas than it was worth. She was also the only one who didn't constantly ask how he was. No, she went around the side of issue by asking how work was. It was... good. He could go down to the club and have a few drinks, knowing that the bouncers would stop anything happening on the dance floor from going further. It still took movements to be confident enough to do so. But he had a job now. He had work being pushed his way, slowly but surely he was getting there. That didn't mean he liked to be touched. Some quintants he couldn't even get out of bed. Some quintants he'd spend the whole day in the shower. Yet most quintants he could be found charting Klearo's every single move. His anger at the man's continued existence only grew. With too many feelings and no way to vent them, he slipped up badly. Leah had found him. High out of his mind, Lance lost control on the thin thread of sanity he still held. He'd taken almost everything he could get his hands on, but it hadn't been enough to rid his mind and body of the feel of what happened. It'd started when he'd punched the mirror in his bathroom in anger over the face reflected back at him. The dark bags under his red eyes, the paleness of his usually glowing skin. The feel of the glass embedded in his knuckles had felt more than nice. Before he'd thought things through, or could think things through, he'd fished a larger chunk of mirror from his sink. Dragging it across the tender skin of his wrist, he relished the feeling of pain rushing to bloom. He felt... finally in control. Laughing in maniacal glee, he stumbled from his bathroom. Oblivious to how much he was bleeding. In the end he barely made it five steps before collapsing. When he came too, he was laying in his own bed. Leah sitting in a dining chair about a foot away. Her eyes red and puffy from where she'd been crying. Confused over everything that had happened, he only grew more confused as he noticed the right bandage around his left wrist. Leah hadn't been happy. Ignoring the way she'd carefully avoided touching him before, she'd angrily snatched up his hand to tear the bandage off. Only, when she did, the skin beneath had healed. A small scar the only evidence he'd done something wrong. Leah couldn't understand it, while he had no explanation to offer. He'd never expected her to be as upset as she was. It'd taken vargas for her to truly calm and accept he hadn't attempted to take his life. She watched him carefully after that. Things strained in a way he didn't like, and in a way that finally pushed him to ask Kre'el for more diverse work. He'd saved up enough for a tiny pod of his own. He could finally go after Klearo... and he really needed off Erathus. A break from ruining the lives of people he'd come to care about. Kre'el was against it. Helo wanted to come with him as back up. Neither got their wish. He had to do this for himself. He had to rip open the wound the man had left inside of him, and drain the infection before he was lost to himself entirely. Buying the pod he'd been eying off filled him with pride. It wasn't the Atlas, nor was it Keith's humanitarian aid ship. Quiznak. It wasn't even a great ship, but no one could take it from him, and once he'd moved everything he'd needed from his room, including his research on Klearo's movements, he took the first wormhole he could off planet.

[willow-salix]

The Seven Basic Plots and how they work.

OK, so this subject is a little controversial, and many will argue the points made, but I thought I would include it, because when I was taught them, they made perfect sense and helped the whole class to identify with the type of story they were actually writing.

This is a really important thing to discover, probably even before you start to plot out your book, because knowing the type of story, and the general structure that they usually take will make the actual construction of your story, so much easier.

The theory goes that there are only ever seven basic plots for stories. 7 in the entire world! They say that any story you can think of will fall into at least one of these categories, though more often they are a mixture of two, three or even more.

The plots are

- Overcoming the Monster

- Rags to Riches

- The Quest

- Voyage and Return

- Rebirth

- Comedy (in which they have included Romance)

- Tragedy.

Now, lets look at them in more depth.

Over coming the monster. This may have you conjuring up visions of a snarling beast looming over a fair maiden who is swooning and screaming for her knight in shining armour to come and save her.

And while that’s fine, if your story is going that way, if you do have a physical monster that is terrorising villages, you do you, dude, but as a plot it’s much broader.

Monsters can take many forms, from a physical threat, a bad guy, an evil boss, and old enemy, an ex-partner or friend, or even something more symbolic like the badness of society or even mankind itself, an organisation, or a political party.

An overcoming the monster story, as with all of the plots, usually follows a formula, although it is easily moved around to make the story your own.

It starts with the creature itself tormenting and torturing its prey, so it could be the boss picking on the young, inexperienced intern, or a nasty teacher bullying the class.

Then comes the call, when the hero hears of this wickedness and comes to save the day. This could be someone in the office overhearing the nasty things said to the poor, sobbing intern, or one adventurous member of the class that decides enough is enough, this evil teacher must be stopped.

There will usually be a brief, first confrontation where the hero and the monster meet face to face for the first time.

There is often a period within the story that is referred to as the dream state, where everything seems to be going ok for our hero, this turns into a nightmare with another confrontation, which the hero shows every likelihood of losing.

And finally, victory, usually including a lesson of some kind which is designed to make the reader think about the moral of the story.

Rags to riches and comedy/romance will often be blended together. We will often see a small, insignificant individual who will step forward and become our hero. Like the nerdy best friend in a high school drama who turns out to be the perfect person for them all along.

Our unfortunate and reluctant hero will have been treated badly by those around them, family, friends, society and is often orphaned by at least one parent. This gives them some vulnerability and odds to overcome.

It is believed that Cinderella is the oldest rags to riches tale with thousands of known versions today, the oldest dating back to the 9th century.

The unfortunate hero is usually the youngest child, one that is shown during the story to be growing up and to mature.

There is usually a part of the story where there is some kind of crisis, where everything is going wrong, but in the end, everything will work itself out and change for the better.

This is often paired with romance because it’s a good formula, we as readers, like the thought of a humble hero being the one to get the love interest rather than the rich, arrogant rival.

Aladdin is a perfect example of both plots mixing together, an orphaned boy who steals to survive, getting his big break and meeting the girl of his dreams. But just when things seem to be coming up roses for Aladdin, he is knocked back down, having to find the guts and determination to keep fighting, clawing his way back to win the heart of the princess and defeat the bad guy.

The quest is often twinned with voyage and return.

No type of story is better known than the quest, some of our most beloved stories, like treasure island, lord of the rings and the holy grail are all a quest.

The story itself can take the form of a physical journey, where they hero is actually travelling from one place to another, or more of a mental journey, a voyage of self discovery if you will. Maybe one relating to their mental or physical help, self improvement or some other life goal.

When looking at the story the goals are usually pretty simple. Some fabulous treasure or mysterious mythical object, or they surround a homeward journey, be that a mental one of self discovery, back to the person you once was, or a physical one.

They often begin with the call to action, as many others do. A community in uproar, a lost treasure or even a missing person.

All quests begin with a sense of unease, a desperation which pushes them on, often the plot will also involve a time limit to make it feel tenser.

The hero will often have to leave their home and battle to find their way back, returning a better person than when they left.

These stories often involve companions of some kind who will travel with them or be picked up along the way and help them on their journey, their unique abilities making victory possible. This has a moral reason for happening, to show the reader than no one can triumph when they are alone or unsupported, trying to take on too much themselves, to not rely on others, or in the case of a more arrogant hero, thinking they don’t need help. There is no shame in allowing friends to offer a hand.

Sometimes the writer will pull a sneaky on their reader and have one of the companions actually work against the hero, instead being in cahoots with the enemy. This is a good way of involving a plot twist into the story, but it is one that has to be managed very carefully, it should not be obvious that they have been actively trying to cause trouble. It should come out of nowhere and completely blindside the reader, but, when they look back, there should be enough to make it true. It’s a hard one to pull off and it does require practice, but that’s no reason to avoid doing it if that’s how your story is worked.

Once the hero and companions have assembled, they will venture forth. Usually they will encounter their first scary or dramatic situation, entering unknown territory, facing a monster or even lack of resources or food. The possibilities in this, are endless.

Mystical intervention along the way is also a common theme, where our heroes will receive some much-needed help and advice which will save the day.

When the journey is almost over, when we think they will make it, comes the final ordeal. All is lost! Or so we think. But of course, the hero will overcome the odds and win the day.

A twist to this kind of story is the dark quest, and my personal favourite, where we see the dark, brooding anti-hero who seeks to destroy an object or person who is working on the side of good. just when it looks like darkness will overcome the light, he has his redemption.

I do love a sexy, anti-social man who needs kicking into shape, and I am usually just the girl to write them, but, enough about me, lets continue on to our last two plots.

Tragedy and rebirth are another two that are often partnered up for the sake of a story.

Tragedy comes in many forms, from the loss of a parent, a lover, a child, even a whole town or city, leaving the protagonist, our hero, as the only one left to deal with the situation.

They are obviously grieving, emotionally destroyed by the tragedy they have just dealt with, but they must soldier on.

Some stories just stick with the tragedy and refuse to have a happy ever after ending, which is fine, its your story and no one said it had to be a happy happy feel good book, but if you did want to give your hero something to strive for, some home, a light at the end of the tunnel, that’s where the rebirth plot is usually utilised.

We, as readers, love to see something good come out of a tragedy, we love to think that no matter how bad things get, there is always hope of something good just around the corner.

Rebirth stories are always popular. Think of a Christmas carol, with mean, skinflint Mr Scrooge meeting 3 ghosts who take him on a journey of self-discovery, where he will have to face up to the inevitable, if he continues as he is, he will die alone and unmourned by anyone.

He learns the error of his ways and wakes the next morning as a changed man, determined to do better for everyone around him.

So, there you have the 7 basic plots, and as I said before, although others may disagree, I believe they are useful to know and perhaps look at in more depth, especially if you have an idea for a book but are unsure on how to structure it.

Identify the type or types of story it is and then study the formula, fit it all together and get writing.

I once did an article explaining how the 7 basic plots all managed to fit into my book, Two Minutes to Midnight, before I even knew what they were. If you are interested in reading this article, let me know in the comments or DM me and ill get it up online for you all.

That’s all for today, so ill say blessed be and happy writing.

[atopearth]

Steins;Gate Part 2 - Chapter 2-3 Thoughts

I wonder why Kurisu was so shocked at the idea of the PhoneWave being a time machine? I feel so sorry for Mayuri though, she didn't get to eat her bananas or her karaage (that got sacrificed to show that they could send mails to the past). You gotta agree with Daru though, life's too short to limit your interests, whether it's 2D, 3D or inanimate objects, why must we limit our love to one of them as long as we're not going crazy over them? You know, Okabe always thinks Daru is weird because of the above but really, Okabe is so much weirder talking to his phone and saying El Psy Kongroo and continuing his evil laughs to himself etc lmao.

But it's cool to read those posts of John Titor, other commenters and about how SERN is basically the big bad guy organisation that is going to create a dystopia by 2036 and invent time machines. Or is Suzuha actually John Titor hahaha. So the importance of the IBN 5100 is that it can decipher a dead programming language that other computers can't. But anyway, Daru really is a cool hacker! I don't know why people still have such crappy and easy passwords to hack for such sensitive info at work though, but whatever, as long as we get info on SERN! I am so excited right now, just like Okabe! It's like things are falling into place! Could be suspicious but nevertheless I am curious!

Maybe it's weird to stop in the middle of the street and stare at the sky feeling like you can reach the stars. But to be honest, I can really relate with Mayuri. I don't stop in the middle of the street but I do like to sit down or just stare at the sky and think of how close but far everything seems. I see.. the reason Kurisu is so against time travel research is because her father was so obsessed with it that he was essentially shunned and exiled from the scientific community because of it.. but omg I love how dramatic Okabe is about everything. When he tried to exit coolly saying lab member 004 will be her number forever even if she leaves and then she just pulls him back and tells him to stop acting so ridiculously😂

Faris is so cool btw. Not sure what the RaiNet game is but they say it's similar to chess, so competing with 10 people at once is pretty crazy. She's strong! Now how will Okabe win and get to eat her home cooking?! (Although he's really only there to get info from her about the IBN 5100 since she's a retro maniac apparently lolol). I can't believe Faris' father really did have it and actually donated it to Luka's shrine! Everyone is so interrelated with the computer. Omg, his donation even came with instructions that if a young man were to ever come needing it, he should lend it? Is this person a time traveller?? I think I can see why people like Kurisu and Okabe though, they're so cute, they match so nicely. Them fighting while transporting that computer was so adorable. Awww it was so cute when Kurisu got scared and actually had tears in her eyes when Okabe was unintentionally scary. Btw Kurisu looks great in a lab coat, I love it. Okabe should really be more considerate and think about other people's feelings though, whether it be in regards to Kurisu or her family situation. He can ask but don't make fun out of it without knowing anything.

I thought there would be human experimentation involved but the confirmation of it and the death of people really makes things much more concrete and serious. I do find it quite endearing that Okabe tried to tell Kurisu to not read any further and just go home since it could get really dangerous from here on, I really respected that. You know, the thought of someone being gelified never really clicked until I thought about what Jelly man meant but dang, that must have been a terrifying and painful way to die.... And to be sent back to 1921 as well, where no one could ever possibly find your corpse.. all the science is confusing but I assume with black holes, there's this point called the event horizon that prevents you from the outside or inside to observe it or do anything, but once there is some sort of momentum to the ring in the black hole that exceeds some threshold, the event horizon disappears, creating a naked singularity that will allow you to observe and freely go through with no rules to adhere to, and therefore time travel? Nah I dunno, sounds too complicated hahaha. But basically all I understand is that there's a point they can create where the rules we are usually forced to adhere to do not apply, causing time travel to be possible. Right now SERN is having difficulties because there's problems on how to vary the gravity somehow to allow humans to get through without being compressed by gravity and causing all those deaths.

It's so cool to see the whole team of Daru, Mayushii, Kurisu and Okabe work together to try and solve the mystery of why the PhoneWave is like a mini LHC that can send mail back to the past and cause the same gelified process that SERN is creating in their experiments. Okabe's RPG analogy of how the PhoneWave and the time travel process is so good! I can understand that! Hahaha! Lmao at how easy Moeka found out about the time travel experiments. They're all so careless haha. It's understandable why Okabe is so frustrated with Moeka though, she literally does things without permission! Silence does not mean it's okay! This applies to anything people! Only a positive response of something like yes means it's okay!

Omg the daughter of the owner of the building is so cute! But yeah, winning the lottery is a good way to check if the past has changed work their mails to the past. However, it must be frustrating for Okabe to carry the burden of knowing and remembering everything whilst everyone's memories changes. In addition, the butterfly effect could be stronger than we think and cause many more problems in their lives that they wouldn't have thought of.

Hehehe, I find it so cute that if you choose to pick up Daru's call, Mayuri eventually calls you and tells him to cheer up (because he's sad that no one remembers sending the winning numbers for the lotto), and she says that she may not understand difficult things but she understands Okabe! Hngggg, she's so adorable, I love her. If you don't pick it up, it's just another typical interaction between Okabe and Kurisu. He told her about what happened but she doesn't really believe it basically haha.

Overall, things are getting much more interesting. There’s more serious business they’re potentially delving into whilst keeping up that nice slice of life tone that is very enjoyable, so that we can interact and understand the characters more. I’m hooked btw XD

[thisselflovecamebacktome]

My personal connection with Taylor’s discography, part seven: Cowboy Like Me

Basically this is just a series I’m doing where I write down my feelings on what each of the Taylor songs means to me personally on a line to line basis both for my own sake to have it somewhere and for anyone who wants to know anything further about me.

So with that in mind, let’s get started.

Cowboy Like Me

One of my favourite things about this song is that despite Taylor writing it as a love song and confirming as such by adding it to the ‘forever is the sweetest con’ playlist, the lyrics can just as easily be referring to a breakup. And to be honest, I thought it was a breakup song the first time I heard it. And though I’ve now realised that wasn’t the intention and the song’s connection to Ready For It makes that all the clearer, I still relate it to the platonic breakup between me and a now ex friend. In short, while I cannot obviously know for sure, it has always felt like they moved on from this friendship without a second thought while I am still stuck here missing it some days. Likewise, while I logically know how it all fell apart and I can see I wore rose-coloured glasses for a lot of it and so on, in the decade this friendship went on for, it really did feel like I had met a twin flame and am still kind of in shock about how it all went down.

And the tennis court was covered up with some tent-like thing

In general, I love this line as an opener because it makes it seem like you’re in the middle of the story. And like that feels significant to me because 1. when you tell others about someone and/or your past, you are effectively telling a story and 2. it gives the impression that you were out being perfectly fine living your life without this person but indicates that this person will change you. And to me that’s how it feels when anyone significant comes into your life. Like typically you are not born with them already there, they come along later, typically when you’re least expecting them and are just going about your everyday life.

Anyway, for me personally, I love the idea of starting with a story because when I talk about the person I relate this song to, I always start with how they actually gave me one of the worst first impressions I’ve ever had. On the first day of seventh grade, I started with band and after introducing themselves, they immediately tripped over the drum kit. Me, being the judgmental person I was at the time, shook my head and internally went ‘god what an idiot’ and walked away, expecting to never speak to them again.

And you asked me to dance but I said, "dancing is a dangerous game"

A year and a half later, we were still strangers. He was however, a friend of the boy I started crushing on on my first day of seventh grade and didn’t get over for two years. In eighth grade, I tried out and joined the SRC in part because said crush did. As part of that, we had to organise the school dances. At the time, I had this plan to ask my crush out at the dance, but when the time came along, the other SRC representative and my now ex friend then stranger tried to stop me. At the time I just assumed it was because my crush was gonna say no, but that I’d rather try and hear it from them than not.... it turns out the others were trying to stop me because my crush had asked out his crush the same night and were currently making out with dancing on the dancefloor. Being the stereotypical teenage girl I was, I cried over it (even though looking back there was like literally 0 reason to believe this dude would ever like me or not have a partner lmaaao). In an attempt to make me feel better, this stranger now ex friend asked me to dance. I declined, cleaning myself up and lied that it was fine and it wasn’t safe to because I ‘had two left feet’ anyway so things turned out for the best. That night was never brought up again and I didn’t see the now ex friend for another year.

Oh, I thought this is gonna be one of those things

In ninth grade, me and my ex friend were put into the same class. In said class, the teacher hated them and loved me. This was also very much a class where the more the teacher liked you, the better your grade was, no exceptions. So when this now ex friend took several weeks off after being sick, I offered to catch them up to earn points with the teacher. Given I didn’t think much of the now ex friend at the time, I assumed it would be a hassle. Needless to say, it went so well that we sat together in every class we had together since. It was also the beginning of me no longer being the favourite of the teacher, and for the first time I got a B that semester.

Now I know I'm never gonna love again

I’m someone who believes you never love two people the same way. Like you’re obviously not going to love a partner in the same way as your sister or mother in the same way as your friend. But even between friends, I feel like each friendship takes a life of its own and it’s impossible to love two of them the same way. And I definitely felt that way with this friend. Like there was just something so free and exciting and different about that friendship that I not only didn’t have at the time, but to be honest, don’t feel like I’ve matched since. And while I’m obviously not past the age of making new connections, I don’t feel myself ever feeling that way again.

I've got some tricks up my sleeve. Takes one to know one. You're a cowboy like me

Simply put, the more time I spent with this person, the more alike I realised we were. Additionally, I was someone who played hot and cold or other games at the time, and they feel like the first person to really call me out on that and keep up with me. And for someone as judgmental as I was at the time, that really took me off my feet and was something I needed to grow.

Never wanted love, just a fancy car

Like I said, I never expected to have a friendship, let alone a long lasting one on that first day. All I was thinking about was how to raise my grades and ‘assure’ my perfect future with an amazing job.

Now I'm waiting by the phone like I'm sitting in an airport bar

For those who don’t know, I am someone who, if I find any type of interest in you (or really any topic too), want to spend as much time with you as possible and know everything about you. It’s not a romantic thing and definitely not a sexual one, I just get very invested in things that interest me. It’s kinda like trying to solving a puzzle for me. And like I’ve implied, this friend was the one who piqued my interest at the time. So any chance I got, I spent with them and any time we were chatting on facebook, I’d stop everything to engage and hope they’d keep responding.

You had some tricks up your sleeve

Just like I had my games to keep them interested, they certainly had theirs to keep me involved.

Perched in the dark telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear like it could be love. I could be the way forward only if they pay for it

I’ve mentioned before that I was a kid that tried to please and be liked by everyone, and as part of that, I tried to be a friend to all. But because of that, I now recognise that I didn’t put my all into a lot of my friendships and a lot of other people got hurt because of that while I mostly walked away unscathed.

You're a bandit like me eyes full of stars hustling for the good life

While this friend mostly lived in the present, we had so many talks about the future and how we’d get there and those memories along with being able to see the steps the other took are among my favourite moments with this ex friend.

Never thought I'd meet you here

Like I’ve said, I never intended or thought I’d walk into that classroom that day and make one of the most impactful friendships I’ve had to this day, but life’s funny like that.

It could be love. We could be the way forward and I know I'll pay for it

Though I’ve realised as I’ve grown that I had a lot of friendships where I should have been more present, I’ve always felt that I was the one who cared more about the ones I did put effort into. And in many ways, I knew if this fell apart that I’d be the one who (openly) felt it more.

And the skeletons in both our closets plotted hard to fuck this up.

For however much this ex friend and had in common, we had as many differing traits. We are also both fire signs. These factors led to a place where when we did clash, it was bloody and bruised. The differences also meant that a lot of miscommunication happened. I am someone who as a whole likes a lot of communication and puts more effort into people I’ve know for a while. As a result, I get somewhat anxious if someone starts to put less effort in. They on the other hand, were the type to put a lot of effort to get to know someone and then didn’t feel the need to because they felt the other person should already know that the bond is good. Likewise, I was very open with my negative emotions/issues with the relationship whereas they would rather just spend time away until they felt better, meaning I was either left in the dust not knowing what I did wrong or found out much later. So looking back, honestly it’s a bit of a miracle things lasted as long as they did.

And the old men that I've swindled really did believe I was the one

As said, a lot of people who I’ve hurt over time really did believe my kindness was some indication of forever or a special bond when I didn’t feel the same.

And the ladies lunching have their stories about when you passed through town

I had a lot of warning about this ex friend. Like a lot of people told me they were fickle, quick to lose interest and that I should’ve spared myself earlier because I deserved better.

But that was all before I locked it down

But alas, I am too damn stubborn and convinced myself that I was different and that the fact I was willing to stick through that meant it wouldn’t end up the same.

Now you hang from my lips like the Gardens of Babylon. With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con

So now I’m here wondering if, like the Gardens of Babylon, it was even real, and to what degree. Like despite the ‘I love yous’ and talk of ‘forever’, it still ended up like this with them having no interest in fixing things and me looking through old photos and memories, left to wander what I ever meant to them.

[secondyear]

Anna Gormley.

Anna Gormley has been working for 12 years as a researcher in photography with 7 of these years exploring the production and meaning of photography. She began with this quote from Azoulay that reframes our understanding of photograph, rather speaks to her as a producer of photography and having to balance relationships. I feel this is vital to any piece of work being produced and particularly resinates with my ‘Fact’ project on different activists and why they do what they do.

In 2013 she was part of an entire team including curator Simon Njami and Magnum photographers Susan Meiselas, Abbas, Jim Goldberg, Michael Subotzky and Mark Power; over the course of a short period of time live together and go shooting together everyday to go home and discuss them overnight. The project was conducted in 2013 called The Portrait of Marrakesh, in this talk Gormley discusses the process behind these projects and the challenges they faced. As Marrakesh is a conservative country many people didn’t feel comfortable being photographed and assess into particular parts and places was incredibly difficult to organise and had to be done weeks in advance if it were at all possible bringing up the questions on ethics, if this were imposing too much into those who live there. Before leaving she had to conduct her own extensive set of research to ensure everyone in the team travelling there to photograph had a clear idea of some of the basic and integral parts to the city. Engaging in local stories and getting in touch working with the local creative communities such and Universities and clubs as well as professionals created a well rounded and more versatile outcome that fully engaged with the locals making the project far more inclusive and accepted in this difficult situation.

Mark Powers.

Using a large format camera he chose to focus on the wider image of the place of Marrakesh, walking around the city he provided clear and insightful images to the way in which people lived offering a wider context. As the other photographer zoomed into their lifestyle he took a silent observer approach therefore didn't have any consensual problems with taking peoples photo. However she did specify that she needed to have permits in place to ensure that he wouldn't get into trouble with the authorities as they also had assistance on the ground with them. Before this talk i was completely unaware of all the details that took place behind the images such as these and how complex it is to arrange. In my own work i hope to do more factual work, working alongside other people to build up stories much like this and my fact project so it was really interesting to hear the different way you can involve yourself into another community and the precaution and research you have to before the actual event takes place. In her talk she also talks about the relationship between the photographers during these days stating that in fact over the days Jim Goldberg began to work alongside with Powers towards the end of the two weeks as they felt they worked well together, proving just how organically the work itself evolved and helped shape a more accurate representation of Marrakesh. His final images were incredibly detailed and printed in the large space of 2m x 1m in the gallery that in turn translated the huge space accurately so you could almost place yourself there as you observed it in full. 

Jim Goldberg.

Most well known for working with all different mediums and his long haul projects where he works very closely with the subjects. Usually he works very collaboratively, often sharing polaroids with those who he photographs and gets them to personally write or draw on them.He wanted to walk around the city and experience everything first hand and make work as he went. With Marrakesh being so hostile towards photography this posed a huge battle for Goldberg and encountered many difficult situations. I screenshot the paragraph he wrote to go on the exhibition wall as the powerpoint was slightly blurry but in it he conveys the hardships he faced when presented with uncomplying people who didn't understand his intentions and in the end he even mean to second guess his own work ethic due to the response as this is something he didn't usually come across. These selected images are just some of his that were in the exhibition but immediately its clear to see the contrast between this work and the work he normally produces with a a deep loss of connection between himself and those who he photographs as normally they have their back turned and appear to be walking away. His more analytical approach and high monochromatic contrasting tones make it clear to us as viewers the enclosed and shut off space he worked with, an entirely different perspective to that of Powers. One thing that this taught me was how to adjust to new situations and work with what you have, just as he had to slightly change more engaged style of working when lockdown occurred i had to purely work with the only set of images i had and try and create something new with them using text and audio. 

[grownwithrespect-blog1]

Business oriented Real Estate, A Career - How Do You Get Into It?

1 . WHAT IS IT AND HOW DO YOU GET INTO IT? Several years ago, I was marriage ceremony a Society of Industrial Realtors Annual Spring Office meeting in Maui. My wife had accompanied me on the getaway so that we could also do a lot of sightseeing. Colliers Foreign, a 241 office worldwide firm, sponsored its own enterprise cocktail party the night before the Conference officially began in addition to my wife and I attended the party. A short while into introductions, a fabulous fellow came in from the golf course and he kommet down at our table. Andrew Friedlander introduced by his own an we discussed our home in Philadelphia, his particular original home in Brooklyn and his new place in Honolulu. As to how he ended up in The hawaiian islands, Andrew told us that on R&R during his / her tours in the Army in Vietnam, he decided to make a break in Hawaii after he was finished his or her last duty tour. He rented an apartment, waited rooms, washed cars, etc . to have some extra cash. He believed that he paid his apartment rent to an older fella who came around once a month and he finally quizzed the man whether that was his business. Andrew said that she never thought about property management as a business, but the additional he spoke to the man the more that he realized ways diverse a business commercial real estate could be, particularly in Hawaiian. The rental agent began to show Andrew the basics belonging to the business and Andrew decided not to return to Brooklyn. Visit here : whistler grand Forty decades later, Andrew is the manager of approximately six Colliers World-wide offices in Hawaii with over 40 brokers along with salespeople as his responsibility. Aside from selling and leasing commercial real estate and traditional brokerage transactions through the of the islands, Andrew's team is involved in all of the other aspects of advertisement and industrial real estate. As one concierge person told my wife and I while we were touring there, "Yes, it is a amazing place, now where would you ever think of moving towards once you are here. " In the past year, a young Army Chief and friend called me from Hawaii. He and even his wife were taking in some R&R after the last duty tour and he called to consult me for some advice on commercial real estate firms. I gifted him Andrews phone number after I checked with Andrew in his availability. Andrew treated my friend to lunch not to mention introduced him to Colliers' business in the islands. Because turned out, my friend and his wife decided later in order to relocate to Florida to be closer to their parents. The Colliers office in Ft. Lauderdale was anxious to make sure you interview him and did so. He found an improved fit for a concentration in office brokerage with a second firm, but I think that it is clear that opportunities achieve exist with major firms for someone who has an interest, this type of demonstrate that they are self motivated and whose comportment (manners, speech, personal grooming, business attire) are all positive. Ages friend told me one night after we and the wives checked in, very late, at a hotel had by a well known hotel group, "That desk clerk will be person representing this hotel company to its buyers and I know the CEO. That clerk's slight disrespect toward us does not at all represent what their CHIEF EXECUTIVE OFFICER wants his company to be known for in their business enterprise. He will need to learn that if he is going to be more than the late night clerk. " I mention this because a company for instance Colliers or any of its competitors must ensure that a proctor or broker first meeting a potential customer properly presents the company's image. So much money is spent defining which usually image to the business community that each person, including most of staff, must reflect that effort. Otherwise, a potential customer will choose to hire a competitor whose act will be together. My understanding is that customer relation instruction at Wal-Mart is quite strong for all personnel. I would think any major restaurant chain has in place a thorough plan for staff training and it may pay to observe if if the customer is not always right at an place how the staff person handles a customer who is being a piece particular. 2 . Entry I use Andrew's story as an example from the opportunity that commercial real estate offers. A senior enterprise mentor and good friend of mine told me in South carolina in 1971, just at the beginning of that recession, that professional real estate offered an opportunity to enter a business without having my own cash to invest other than my time and energy, and, with no limit about the size of transactions that could be put together. We discussed the in relation to my going back to law school. His judgment was that it was almost a "sky is the limit" approach, but with some basic sense to it. I did done a few financial reports on potential deals wanted to him. I also handed over that year, at my mentor's instruction, a $300k commission check to a broker what person he had employed to buy a property that he had settled within the year prior to that. The next year, at the same time, I paid the same check to that broker as the second half of which will commission to that broker. Please realize that in 1972 the fact that commission amount in the onset of that recession was a large amount of money for any transaction. Each state has its own limitations for licensure. Florida required a person to take a revenues licensing course, pass that, then work in a gain real estate broker's office for a minimum of two years before staying eligible to take a state broker's exam. The sales tutorial is offered by numerous private firms and colleges, nighttime courses in particular. The cost of the course is minimal. The fundamental skills for reading, writing and math portions usually are not difficult. Depending upon your educational qualifications, commercial real estate corporations may often offer to provide the course. Smaller, further generalized, brokerage firms may also do the same in order to develop a salesperson. There typically is a recognized "culture" as well as business reputation known for a real estate firm in any group, The community can be local, regional or national. It sends to do your homework as to which firm appears to satisfy your style. The internet is definitely one of the most productive sources for seeking out for a firm's history, its areas of expertise, personnel, and its success. Recognize that major metropolitan commercial firms often outsource purchaser needs in an outlying area to a smaller commercial organisation in that area rather than requiring one of their main home office brokers to commit to travel time. Consequently, if you are from a rural market outside or between major metropolitan trading markets, you should investigate which real estate firms have those interactions for the larger deals. Your time for success starting during commercial real estate (particularly without capital) will be the result of everything you put into it. I had the option in the early '70's regarding returning to law school and finishing. What I recognized most was that I liked being out of an clinic and "on the street. " My attorney friends throughout Ft. Lauderdale were spending innumerable hours, as expected, in their offices to write briefs, draft documents, etc ., that that profession requires. My decision was to put in an identical hours on commercial real estate that I would have to put in for just a law practice. If it worked, then fine, or I would go back to school. Considering that the early '70's recession through Florida hit every occupation with almost equal deterioration, many attorneys had practices with slim billings and also clients whose businesses were suffering economically. Several real estate agents who I met were having very difficult times because banks were not lending money for deals. Florida received a usury cap of 14% at that time. Deposits happen to be down and when interest rates in California started to go above 14% that is where the money went. Weekdays in those numerous years, I was knocking on the doors of businesses from the West Palm to Miami corridor. Weekends, I was basically often painting a house or captaining a motor sailer owned by a friend's corporation. Weekday evenings after supper, I was at the office reviewing property information, ownerships, place a burden on data, etc . for the next day's driving or calls. I found that it was possible to earn a living while getting towards the commercial real estate field. I later found out after shifting back to Philadelphia, that several of the commercial real estate vendors did not mind their starting salespeople to moonlight simply because bartenders, waiters, or whatever until they had enough expertise to close transactions. That has changed somewhat in the higher cities due to the financial strength of the larger firms plus their ability to either offer a base salary or obtain to new salespersons. Gender in today's commercial real estate universe is not an issue as it was in the '70's. At that time, individuals only eating clubs were often the norm and adult females were not often able to match that type of selling place. The number of women who have joined commercial real estate organizations which includes SIOR, CCIM, etc . (which I will discuss later) seems to have increased dramatically over the past 15 years. The commercial properties courses offered today provide an excellent means of obtaining understanding that once was taught generally "in house" by mature brokerage personnel responsible for a new salesperson's progress. Therefore , on considering commercial real estate the aspect of having minimal growth capital has not changed. Gender is not an issue and many women who may have chosen to specialize in industrial or office real estate did very well. You can choose your hours, choose your neighborhood of specialty(s), choose your market area(s), and decide who you want to approach as a firm to join. Most business oriented real estate involes the standard business week, not including late Saturday or Sunday hours (vs. residential Sunday open houses). These are several of the positive aspects of working in commercial realty. The competition is keen, your competitors respect a good work hard work and, most importantly, they respect a strong reputation for any man or women. You should investigate both larger commercial firms and little real estate brokerage firms. There are advantages and disadvantages to both. A). Larger firms may be willing to offer a base salary or even a draw against commissions. They may prefer prior business feel, but not necessarily prior real estate brokerage experience that may clash with what their "culture" is and what their in-house training entails. Typically, a new salesperson would be assigned towards a senior broker or brokers to do cold calling, selling materials, marketing reports for any existing client's property as well as probably handle property inspections by other competing providers with their prospects. A few points on Larger Firms: Foreseeable future ownership potential for you in the company may be limited or possibly nonexistent. Control over what market, territory or style that you work in may not be your choice. If you are hired first department, such as retail, that may change if they need staff members support in another department, such as office. You may find construct y prefer a new person to rotate through each agency and possible each regional office if they have a number of offices. Depending upon whether the firm is privately held or perhaps public company it could be sold or merged without you will being involved in the discussion. There is no real "safety blanket" for just about any position in a larger firm. If a primary, large, patron is lost to a competitor, cuts may be relatively swift to absorb the lack of revenues. Senior brokers who are successful once in a while leave to join another firm or to start their own competitions firm. Clients usually follow those brokers and that could quite possibly disrupt your potential income if you are in that department and then the rain makers leave. Deal volume can be significant while can be the size of the deals. If an institutional operator (bank, insurance company, pension fund, etc . ) has a appearance in an urban market, the leasing or sale assignment that they may award to a larger firm can be a "year maker" if the assignment is completed. Usually some time end bonus money flows down to the salespersons and also require participated in the marketing effort. Senior brokers should have high level corporate contacts through either a business association, place club, educational institutions, commercial lenders, or contacts called from other cities where a corporate headquarters may be placed. If the firm owners or top brokers are not building those contacts and relationships, but are relying on typically the mid-level brokers to do that you may want to look at another firm in whose top management is better involved. You want work to filtration down from the top instead of getting the crumbs leftover as a result of competing firms who have a solid community (business and nonbusiness ) presence. B). Smaller firms usually will have an important broker/owner running the operations with or without dealer partners in the firm. Quite often they will have a residential team and a separate commercial department in which a few of the brokers will probably work in residential and commercial properties. A few details about Smaller Firms: Future ownership shares may be proposed depending upon deal volume and commitment to the firm. Should the founding broker of the firm is nearing retirement age, the way may be better provided that they are maintaining an fully busy presence in the community. Commission percentages may be much more liberal after a minimum threshold of deal volume is met to the cost of your desk, phone, secretarial, etc .. A salary and / or draw is less likely to be offered. A senior agent may be more likely to have you work directly under him regarding any property. You will be accountable directly to him and, because should be the case, learn "on the job. " If there is the residential component to the firm, those brokers specializing in who area should be a source of commercial referrals and the very same for you referring any possible single family residential with them. Smaller multi-family buildings should be on the commercial side of your business, but motels may be on either side. This would vary in an area such as Ft. Lauderdale, Hilton Travel, or New Jersey resorts where a residential owner with a union to the firm may also own retail rentals. Most local areas have a Realtors Association, Chamber of Commerce or perhaps other organization that offers discounted insurance and other benefits for you to its members. Whereas a larger firm may have a good collaborative health plan and other bulk discounted benefits to the employees, you should look at the costs for each that are offered. I have not discovered that much of a saving on either side, but any time you leave a larger firm you will need to find the alternatives that are low-priced. Your business exposure may actually be more effective working out of a smaller sized firm and being a primary contact for that firm as an alternative for a secondary contact at a larger firm. Property databases as well as Internet have provided smaller firms with much better admittance to real estate information than in the mid-'90's and before once only larger firms could afford to maintain proprietary place information for a larger market. Launching a significant marketing campaign for just a property can be expensive even with the Internet and smaller providers will have a lack of cash resources to compete for big property listings. Deal size, therefore , will be smaller and you may have to strive for volume,

[alexanderessexmediaroles]

Day 9 - Individual Artist Roles for both Stop-Motion and 3D/CG

For today’s research, I thought I specilise it to looking into the four roles I’ve chosen to pursue with for my project by looking what is required for those roles as well as potential artists that share those very same roles so that I can research them for the media roles project. 

Before I did any major research on my own, I went back to the sources of information that Carla had given us for the one project we had to do as they’res still a lot of useful resources that i can use to research the roles specifically and for finding my potential artists and animation companies to look into as well. I first started off by going back to ‘ScreenShare’ and looking at the Animator, Model Maker and Rigging Roles to see what the website I had to offer. Whilst I would research into how these roles work by themselves and how to get into them, I plan to do just a brief version today as I’ll do a more detailed look into how to apply and get into those job roles in the industry when I talk about them a lot more in depth later on as I want to research into artists from those roles for inspiration.

Animator for Stop-Motion and 3D

Starting off with the role of an ‘Animator’, the basic role of an animator is to follow a visual brief off the storyboard which the director helps to give a verbal brief to that same animator in order to make the scene just right in the film or production. In order to be successful and knowledgeable as an animator, you have to make sure you have a good understanding of the principles as well as being familarised with weight and timing to make the character and scenery as realistic as possible to the point where it seems seamless as your watching the performance. This however depends on how many frames you’re animating on as the more frames a second allows for much smoother animation with lesser frames making it slower but more stylistic. You also need to be organised and be able to communicate in this role effectively with not only exploring your ideas to others, but also effectively meeting deadlines to when a scene needs to be animated on time. This goes the same for both 3D and Stop-Motion based Animators although I would say deadlines for animating are probably more important in the stop-motion industry as they have a much tighter schedule when it comes to animating since it takes them longer to make a frame compared to 3D/CG.

Rigger

With the role of a ‘Rigger’, they’re the digital puppet-makers of the 3D animation department as they control how much a puppet is articulated and moved for a certain action like how a character should walk from A to B in a scene or how their body will morph and change as their feelings are expressed. Essentially, they help to create all that is needed for the animator to fully play around with the character. Whistl it’s their job to make the skeleton of puppets, they have direct involvement with the animators on set too as they pass back onto the rigger what would need changing about the puppet order to achieve a certain pose or look for that character. This could vary from slightly loosing up a characters joints to make the job of animating a lot easier in stop-motion or adding more points in a digital skeleton to get some freer movement. Whilst riggers specilise with character, they are essentially responsible to anything that is seen that is movable as objects also provide a skeleton to perform certain actions like thrusters moving off a car. In addition to working with the animators, they have to also work with modelers too to see how they will pan to put the skeleton into the model and understanding if some areas are possible or not for movement.

Model Maker

Model-makers can be approached either as 3D modelers or stop-motion puppet makers but I’ll be focusing on more the stop-motion aspect of the role. Having said that at some point in my research, I would still like to look into 3D modelling as there’s a particular artist I like that motivates me going along as a 3D modeler as well. With stop-motion model making, there’s a lot of the same knowledge as an animator and rigging that goes into puppet making as all three of these roles have to communicate with each other in order to create a successful and poseable puppet for the scene as well as having the same kind of skills and intuition that goes into the other roles. Because of this, Model-makers have to make several different puppets that are the same and for their clothing and accessories too which I learnt from LAIKA Studios. In addtion to making the puppets in stop-motion as a model-maker, it’s also consists of creating models for the background of scenes as well like making the tiny little prop’s that all add to the realism of the set in addition to the main set pieces to the scene.

Something off the ‘Skill shares’ website that I found interesting was that in smaller studios in the industry, model-makers are more of a general role that are taken as they need people working in the studio to have multiple skills rather than just one. This is definitely reassuring for me as I‘m very unsure to what I should specilise in for the future as I like doing many roles at once.

3D Animator and Rigging Artists I would like to Look at:

Alexey Zakharov

Audri Phillips

Dreamworks

Blue Zoo

JellyFish

This was a bit tricky to research and find for as there aren’t too many famous 3D animators out in the wild that i could find and research on compared to something like Stop-Motion. Having said that, there are still a ton of companies that I find interesting to me that I might choose to really research into how specifically what it’s like to be a 3D animator which goes the same for rigging too. 

However for the ones I did find, I found both to be really interesting to me for different reasons as even though they both aren’t to do with character animation and rigging, they still show how these people work as well as well as having different ways of showcasing their skills as animators. The first artist I looked like was a 3D artist by the name of Alexey Zakharov who creates very photo-realistic set pieces and test shots such as his take on the show ‘Futurama’ if it was to be in 3D. Obviously something really eye-catching with his work is by how visually stunning it all is to watch as everything has been made from the ground-up through Alexey’s work in four different software's that being:  3dsmax, Nuke, Photoshop, After Effects. These all help to light, model and animate the scene which we see below. Because of this, I might plan to look at the different types of software used for both 3D animation and rigging as this would help me with my industry knowledge.

Futurama 3d (test shot)

Through his making of video where it shows the steps to how each element was made for the test shot, there was one aspect that I found interesting to me that looked at the rigging side of the project which was the ‘Planet Express’ ship and seeing all the different modelled parts used to construct the model as that’s the main ship that’s animated in the test shot. This is why there are multiple tiny bits of the ship that you both see and don’t see on the ship as they all contribute to the little tiny bits of the ship that move as it flies in the test shot which was done through rigging. In a way, it was cool to understand that rigging isn’t just limited to character.

MAKING OF “Futurama 3d (test shot)”

The different parts of the ‘Planet Express’ put together 

One of the other artists that I looked at other than Alexsy was ‘Audri Phillips’ who isn’t your conventional artist so to speak as she animates in a very expressionistic style rather something at face value with a simple character animation that meets a brief. Instead her work is all to do with dance and how animation can help to visulaise the thoughts she gets from listening to the music as well as watching the performance too as her work is often played side by side with a performer on stage. This kind of animation is something I really haven’t seen before but it’s something I could really get behind as I love doing dynamic animation so to see something like this being used is really inspiring to me. Whilst the models you see in her pieces are done through CG, all the other supernatural events that occur in the performance are all created using 3D elements to help make enhance the journey through animating really large faces as well as objects floating in the air. Whilst I may stick with more character-based animation, I really enjoy how she express meaning through movement which something to think about when it comes to animating my characters and rigging them.

Heart Dance

https://vimeo.com/394248256

Stop-Motion Animator Artists 

Nick Park

Adam Pesapane - PES

Len Lye

Michael Mort

Having already looked at two different stop-motion companies before hand, I’ve covered a lot of info on the that part of the industry to have a nice enough grasp on it all. Because of this, I really wanted to research some stop-motion artists that either share multiple different roles like animating and directing as well as looking at the more independent stop-motion artists. From the documentary I watched from Carla’s research, Len Lye was a really early British animator which his work doesn't seem like stop-motion at first as it consists of etching paint and prints into 35mm tape. But the way it all comes together and how he’s creating a painstakingly frame by frame animation is hard to say it’s not as if you were to watch his films, so much time would have been invested in making sure each frame matched up to the last one on such a small scale at the time. But the main reason why Len’s work interested me is through his persistence with the art form as at the time, he was struggling to have something unique through his previous attempt at animating a monkey puppet. This determination is something I wanted to take from Len’s work as something that should be highly valued in the industry no matter what role I end up specilising in due to their drive to keep going on makes will definitively help you to stand out.

1935-1937 Len Lye - "Kaleidoscope" + "A Colour Box" + "Colour Flight" (highlights mix)

Model Making studios I like to look into:

Kerry Dyer - Model Maker

Hetty - Model Maker

Roos Mattaar - Model Maker 

Astrid Goldsmith - Model Maker

For researching on stop-motion model-makers specifically, I was really surprised to see that there was a lot of info on how they work and what they’re career journey has been like much more so compared to the other roles I looked at today. One that I felt that really stood out to me was Ross Mattaar due to really going into depth to how she creates her puppets and armatures by the different materials she uses and how she isn’t just limited as a puppet maker as she also specilises in armature making and as an animator as well. These included various different processes to how she makes her puppets like mold making, casting (silicon, resin and plaster), needle felting and brass tubing.

http://www.roosmattaar.com/about-me/

Overall, I’m really happy with the research I’ve done today as whilst it was a small explanation of each role that I’m highly interested into as well as a small bit of research towards some artists I discovered, I plan to go into more depth into at a later point in both areas later on in my research as i want to also look into some additional roles that I hadn’t considered yet until doing this project.

Sources:

Top 30 Animators That Really Know Their Stuff

https://sageanimation.com/top-30-animators/

Alexey Zakharov - Art Station

https://www.artstation.com/seccovan

FIND A JOB IN ANIMATION OR VFX https://www.animationuk.org/subpages/find-a-job-in-animation-or-vfx/?section=skills

[davidcarterr]

Dan Joyce Interview

To coincide with the beginning of work to open up the full space at Southbank, The Arts and Humanities Research Council have commissioned and released ‘You Can Make History’. Edited and shot by skateboarder, film maker and one-time member of Dirty Sanchez, Dan Joyce, the film takes up the current situation at Southbank and incorporates voices representing every stakeholder involved in the process of protecting and reclaiming the Undercroft for all.

Obviously, this is by no means the first film to address Southbank’s multi-layered meaning as a space, nor to discuss the role that the Undercroft has played in global skateboard culture, but it is probably the first time that the multitude of voices invested in the process have been put together in one place.

We caught up with Dan Joyce to discuss the process so as to give you all a little context to the film below. If you missed our previous interview with LLSB detailing the work to open up the Southbank’s available space – you can catch that here: LLSB interview

Big thanks to Dan for his time and for providing a selection of his photography to illustrate this piece.

Can you give us the back story to this video project firstly please Dan? How did it come about?

I was contacted by the academics a few years ago about making a film covering the LLSB story. I said straight away that Winstan Whitter had already made a film and had a lot of archive footage and that he would be better person than I to tell the story.

Long story short: they made another film together, and then Henry Edwards Wood made another follow up film with them. I made the third one, which is the one we’re discussing here ‘You Can Make History’.

This felt like the first time that a Southbank documentary piece really engaged with all the stakeholders in every capacity, with everybody from those involved in the original design and construction of the space, original LSD heads, Southbank staff; right through to current LLSB heads speaking from their own perspectives: how did you go about getting this access?

Basically due to a lot of work being put in by the LLSB team and the academics that had worked alongside them. They had been trying to interview Dennis Crompton for years but he was a very hard person to tie down. The previous films had only really been told from the skater’s point of view, whereas I wanted this to reveal all aspects of the story.

At this point that was a much easier thing to do, because so much time had passed, Pushing Boarders had happened and skateboarding in general had become a much bigger and more recognised thing both academically, and in a wider cultural sense.

The Southbank meet ups had got everyone together and people had started engaging with each other and telling all these old stories. It became clear that there were multiple layers of age groups and users all open to talk about their experiences. Older skaters were now introducing their children to Southbank and the like. It was just the right time to make a film like this one really.

Dennis Crompton

It’s amazing to see the way that the official voices of the Southbank Centre have fully embraced its life as a skateboard spot now, after so many decades of perceived animosity between the two groups. Dennis Crompton in particular really seemed to love the fact that the space had been adopted and reinvigorated by skateboarding. He must’ve been an interesting person to speak to…

I think Dennis Crompton and Mike McCart both thought that skateboarding was a fad at first and that it would die off. I don’t think they realised the depth of the culture surrounding it, or that it was a lifestyle, and that once you became a skater, you are in for life. He had so many good stories. I have all the full interviews. I will be giving all of the complete interviews to LLSB and they will be archived. These may be released as podcasts in the future.

How did you go about accessing all the archive skate footage of SB?

Through having the table and the meet ups, the SB community started to grow and they started sharing memories and footage. The Facebook group was a great resource for finding old footage. Winstan and Henry both donated a lot of footage. Thanks so much.

There’s also a fair bit of your own skate footage in there too, right? What stuff did you film personally?

I shot the first LLSB event, when they first organised themselves and painted everything white. I followed Chewy around for a while and got some great footage. I had totally forgotten that I’d even shot this until it came to making this film. I also realised I had footage of Dylan Rieder from when he was there at the HUF demo. It felt really fitting that I used it for this. I also shot Urbside being built, so I used some of this footage too.

What’s your own history with Southbank itself? What’s your earliest memory of visiting SB?

My dad used to be a youth worker in Camden when I was growing up. He was part of the first team that organised Cantalowes skatepark. He used to take me to Cantalowes and Southbank when I was a kid.

I then went to university in London in the 90’s, I got a grant, bought a video camera and used to go down to the Southbank and film skateboarding instead of going to Uni. That camera was stolen from my flat and I ended up moving to Leeds after that.

Did you get a chance to skate it in its original state?

Yeah I skated the original lay out, (well not the original 70’s/80’s layout but the one before the hoardings went up), a lot. I filmed Carl Shipman frontside flipping the high bar, then I shot Neil Urwin switch frontside flipping the cut down bar. I also frontside 180 ollied a picnic table out of the little banks. I have spent a lot of time in the Undercroft going back a couple of decades.

Listening to Chris Allen talk about the Undercroft from the perspective of its function was fascinating, (as in the banks exist to provide access to the different levels incorporated into the original design). How did filming these interviews change your own perception of what Southbank is?

It was a dream come true really, the first day of interviews we went behind the wall and got to see all the old bits, it was amazing.

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing again, I had so many good memories flood back. I was also sent all the original plans, I felt very honoured to be asked to do this, it also made so much sense as I had come around full circle from my days at Uni in the early 90’s.

It definitely seems as though the Undercroft space in particular was deliberately created to be ‘interesting’ in so far as its purpose was loosely defined but yet it was still made to look visual appealing, at least in a topographical sense as Chris Allen says. It’s tempting to see it as designed ‘for skateboarding before skateboarding’ to an extent isn’t it?

Definitely, at least looked at from today’s perspective and taking in mind Dennis and co’s belief in the importance of making space interesting.

The group of architects who comprised the Archigram group were very revolutionary and wanted to implement some very radical thinking into their designs.

I asked Dennis about some of this; hopefully I will be able to share the full interviews at some point.

How did you link up with Jim Slater, (one of the original London Skates Dominate AKA ‘LSD’ crew who are credited with discovering the Southbank)? Listening to him talk about the first time that skateboarders skated at SB was amazing – were there plenty of LSD tales that you heard from him that didn’t make it into the film?

Jim Slater was the first interview we shot and it really set the mood of the whole film. He was such a key figure and we owe a lot to him and his crew. It turns out he lives really close to where I live too.

He talked about lots of the nonsense they used to get up to back in the 70’s, way too much to make it into this piece. I plan to do some more filming with him this summer and I’d like to make a mini doc’ with him. I’d love to film some slalom too – I’ve built an RC Hovercraft to film this with.

Dan Adams

The current R.a.D book project really feeds into this too, as so much iconic imagery related to the older incarnation of Southbank the spot are tied into TLB, Wig, Dobie, etc. I’m assuming Dan was more than happy to open up the R.a.D archives for this project right?

Whilst we were filming this, the R.a.D kickstarter was in full swing, I wanted them to reach their goal and I thought they were a key part of this story. Dan was really helpful and showed us so many good photos.

I’d love to sit down with him again and go though what he has. There’s just so much work involved involving in the archiving process, I don’t think people realise just how much stuff he’s working through on his own. Maybe we should plan a big scan weekend? Everyone could turn up with a scanner and scan away…

The idea of skateboarding being accepted as a true part of the heritage of the city really comes through in this film Dan – was that the intention, in terms of your story-telling aims? It’s definitely much more than just a celebration of skateboarding, right?

I think this is mainly due to the passing of time and the effect that has on people’s perceptions as regards the cultural depth and value of Southbank as a place. When you can look back over five decades of skate culture, you start to realise the importance of what has happened there.

As we went through the R.a.D archive we realised that certain photos that wouldn’t have been printed due to not being technically good enough at the time they were shot were now usable as they told a different story and were just as important as the ones that were printed. The fact that other sports that were initially perceived as fads have come and gone over the same time frame, whilst skateboarding has grown and evolved, so much really allows everyone to realise how important this story is.

Listening to people connected to the institution revel in the heritage aspect of SB’s status as an iconic skate spot is pretty bonkers really, particularly to skaters of our age…

I think that half of the space being closed off for so long has helped make this place even more mysterious. There is a whole generation who had no idea it used to be bigger. They only know Southbank as it is now so it must be even weirder and even more exciting to them.

We must speak up about this thing we have, it really does have the power to change the world

I think the response and the overwhelming support given to the idea of reclaiming the lost space has shown the institution the multiple layers of its users across all age groups, and it made them realise how skateboarding is directly connected to so much of the creative industries. Skateboarders found a way to tell non-skaters how much this thing that previously we’ve never had to explain to people, means to us. This is a good thing, we must speak up about this thing we have, it really does have the power to change the world.

It also seems as if skateboarding has reached a point now where it’s value to wider culture, and to non-skaters is undeniable – do you think that’s happened partly because of what LLSB has achieved, or maybe just as part of the process of skateboarding growing up from what was relatively a very ‘new phenomenon’ until recently?

I think its just time again. There are now multiple generations all skating together. There are now more female skaters than ever. Skateboarding has become a lot more inclusive. It’s a coming of age process that has really cemented skateboarding culture’s position into society in general I think and made it an impossible thing to ignore.

There genuinely doesn’t feel to be any animosity towards the skaters any more either. When the likes of Mike McCart talk about moving away from conflict towards embracing collaboration – it does sound as if they wholeheartedly mean it. Was that the impression you got?

Absolutely, that is definitely the impression I got from making this film.

I just think Mike McCart and all the people involved in Southbank the institution genuinely understand who we are now. I don’t think they realised that we all still skated and were all still regular users of the space. I think the threat of closure brought older skaters out of the woodwork again too, which in turn added even more weight to the arguments of LLSB.

The things that Paul Richards says about how the dust settling and everyone working together benefits every stakeholder with a connection to the Southbank Centre really rings true doesn’t it? Especially when you factor in the plans for the Education Centre to sit alongside what LLSB have achieved. Community really does seem to have won through here…

I just hope that skaters will be included in the programming of the youth centre, I would love to share story telling skills, and be involved in doing workshops about film making or zine making.

It’s interesting to hear Southbank staff talk about how the academic conceptualization of skateboarding and its relationship to SB really helped the institution understand what the aims of LLSB. Do you see that as part of skateboarding’s growing up process that we touched on earlier? In so far as if academia can see value in it, then it becomes more tangible to an institution like SB?

I think we have all grown up really; skaters have matured and the culture has matured with them. We are starting to care more about how we represent ourselves and how what we do can benefit others.

Skaters have matured and the culture has matured with them. We are starting to care more about how we represent ourselves and how what we do can benefit others

DIY spots are popping up all over the country and their value to the communities that they touch can be seen and appreciated by a wider audience than that purely inside skateboarding. As we’ve discussed already – it definitely is a part of skateboarding’s coming of age process I think.

Another thing that really stood out to me was the comment about the Southbank Centre putting ‘skating in the sports box, rather than the culture box’ – in a lot of ways that seems to be the major shift here really. And potentially, the main lesson that other projects like LLSB can share in, would you agree?

That’s one of the main things that struck me too. I believe that switch in attitude was triggered by the sheer force of so many different generations and groups of skaters coming forwards to stand up for skateboarding and to explain how multifarious its culture is. Institutionally, this process allowed the Southbank Centre to comprehend how multi-layered skateboarding is and how connected we are to the arts. I think they just believed it was a fad and that you gave up when you grew up previously.

The way it’s put together really reflects what Paul Richards says about the multitude of voices all coming together. Did that idea inform the editing process?

I wanted to show all the different age groups that are still active users. I used loads of different cameras to help show this. I wasn’t bothered by resolution. Editing-wise it was crucial to incorporate as many different voices into the film as possible to reflect the situation as it is.

How long have you been working on this and what were some of the hardest aspects of making the film?

I started shooting last June and I finished it at Christmas. Internal politics were a bit of a problem at times but I tried to not get involved.

How was it received at the premiere?

It was amazing, a lot of old heads turned up, it was great to see everyone. From the reaction in the cinema it seemed to have been very well received.

You’re a filmmaker by trade these days, right? What other stuff have you been working on recently?

I have been working very closely with Huck Magazine recently. Also have a few things planned with Blast Skates. I’m planning another documentary piece at the moment. I’m always involved in something or other.

Let’s end on an obvious one – if I were to ask you what the most memorable thing ever done on a skateboard at Southbank was – what would you say and why?

Carl Shipman frontside flip over the bar after the Plan B premiere. I will never forget that day. When the new space opens, I want Carl to come down and do it again.

Interview by Ben Powell

The post Dan Joyce Interview appeared first on Slam City Skates Blog.

Dan Joyce Interview published first on https://medium.com/@LaderaSkateboar

[fishsupportgroup-blog]

Good Omens Fandom Welcome Pack (4/3/17)

Yo my dudes!!!! So I got a message from @dirktective-assassina who just found out that there’s a good omens fandom so I figured I’d try and pull together some resources as an up to date fandom welcome pack :D It’s pretty long and comprehensive so I’ve put it under the cut.

So first things first: the ship name of Aziraphale/Crowley isn’t Crowaphale or anything like that but is Ineffable Husbands. We also sometimes use Air Conditioning (like A/C if you see?) although this is less used now than it was, largely because of the way tumblr tagging works versus livejournal and it’s a bit of a hassle to traipse through posts of people’s air conditioning not working, but there are still posts on that tag and it's a good way to find older fan-works. Other wise we generally just tag as Good Omens.

As with a lot of fandoms with a slightly longer history, livejournal used to be the main site for the good omens community and we transferred across bc, let’s face it tumblr is a hell site but it’s also a hell of a lot more accessible than livejournal. However, there are still a lot of things going on with livejournal!!! my main resource there is the Lower Tadfield Air Base: Fighting off Armageddon since 2003! The Good Omens Holiday Exchange is also organised on livejournal, I’ve linked to this year’s entries :)

Which brings me onto fic!! (Some of these fic will be explicit but they all have warnings at the beginning). Two fics always recommended in older fic rec lists are The Sacred And The Profane, and A Diamond Sky Above Titanic (although, personally, they’re not really my favourites). Also, The Lower Tadfield Air Base has a good fic tag :) Finally there’s this post which also adds some extra links and info on joining the good omens fandom, it also has a gen fic section if that’s more your cup of tea.

My main source of fics however, comes from our Lord and Saviour, Archive Of Our Own. Just take note when you’re using the search tool you fully type in Aziraphale/Crowley rather than letting it autocorrect you to Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) then you’ll only get 217 works in comparison to the 1178 fics available and all the fic of Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) is filed under Aziraphale/Crowley anyway. If that makes any sense?

Personally, I’ve been horribly remis in tagging my own favourites because I’m fairly useless. However, I know I love Fridays by ylc. If you like human! aus then I also really love Ordinary People by daeger which has a wee Jewish painter Crowley :D

Ruby Tears by @not-a-space-alien is also a really good fic in highlighting the fandom’s perspective on Crowley: essentially in that he’s a HUGE FUCKING NERD who tries so hard to look cool and suave and is actually just very vulnerable and sweet and loving. Aziraphale, on the other hand, is very much an oblivious banana that’s too self-obsessed to really recognise this and has an incorrect view that Crowley is The Adversary and should be thought of as such. There has been A LOT of AMAZING meta on this, I would really recommend @futureevilscientist‘s essay on The Arrangement as p. much essential reading. They also have a tag for meta which I also really recommend.

My final fic to recommend is HAS to be the Crown of Thorns series by @irisbleufic (often shortened to cot). For me, this is The Fic, you know, and I feel like it really defines the Good Omens fandom in many ways. It’s based on the fanon that after the events of the apocalypse, Aziraphale and Crowley moved into a cottage on the South Downs together. All the details of the fic are in the introduction :D Other Iris fics to recommend are Regulars and What to Say (and How Not to Say It) if like me you’re trash for 3rd person pov. Finally as someone from York I’m honour bound to mention Promises to Keep.

We also have some Amazing artists in the fandom, people like @kogla and the like are just so great to have posting content for us!! basically just turn to the good omens tag and follow some of the suggested blogs (see below) we’re always posting everything :D One of my faves is this one by @6utton (who also gives me my raffles fix). @lunasong365 has also sent me this beautiful video and their playlist of other videos :‘) You also have the good omens tag on the hell site of deviantart

Also in terms of art, @askajcrowley is utterly brill, they don’t post much anymore but when they do I cry because they’re great.  If you want a really interesting view of how fandom has changed over time, go back through their posts as far as you can, it’s seriously worth it. In terms of fandom changing, the Good Omens fandom has generally imploded; it did used to be a very big active fandom, with a lot of ask blogs and a much greater focus on the other characters besides Aziraphale and Crowley. The current day fandom does feel bad about not talking about the other great multifaceted characters but we don't tend to do much to rectify it, as not-a-space-alien highlights in this post.

The older fandom also used to have A LOT of discourse surrounding fancasts. Oh God. Suffice to say if I ever see another post casting Bajkfbgjgiug Cskjfbgkjfba/Tom Hiddleston in all the roles I will actually throw up. This trend lead to our Worst Meme, Cage Omens: in which all the characters are played by Nicholas Cage. This meme likes to make a reassurance every now and again, so FOR GODS SAKE DONT SUMMON IT. (We all secretly love it).

Speaking of fancasts, we should probably mention adaptations. When the news of the latest adaptation came forward, a lot of us were very apprehensive because We Have Been Here Before. Lots. Like 5 Times. (I think in like ‘02 there was going to be one with Robin Williams but It was just after 9/11 and everyone ran as fast as they could from apocalypse based media). However, this one does look like it’s going ahead and will be airing next year maybe :) We do also have the beloved radio adaptation, which we will all suggest had it’s flaws but was also p damn brill. (The BBC sometimes replay it around Easter?)

However the discourse over fancasts did actually raise some pertinent points to do with race, with a lot of people feeling really uncomfortable with how white the suggestions were for characters that have no explicitly stated race. This is especially the case in regards to Aziraphale where there might be inbuilt preconceived conceptions of a white angel. This post and @a-poc-alypse‘s commentary on the subject I think is really important. I think the fandom now makes a concerted effort to try and produce more diverse art and the like, and I think we are better than we were, but it is something we have to actively work towards rectifying.

Other discourse of far, far less importance is in regards to their wings. Essentially, a lot of older fanart has Crowley with bat like wings which a lot of the fandom disagrees with, and there’s a lot of discourse about the colour of their wings too. Traditionally, Aziraphale is depicted with white wings and Crowley with black, but as is oft pointed out within the fandom, the colour of their wings is not stated and, given the significance of heaven and hell just being names for sides with no tangible distinction, and that demons are of angel stock, this separation has been questioned. Basically, the consensus now is play around with it!!!!! My head canon is that Az has owls wings and Crowley has duck wings :D

As for Hogwarts Houses, no one actually knows tbh either of them could fit into any house I think? We've had a lot of discussions and I think the ultimate conclusion we’ve come to is just go with what you want. At the moment I think I like Gryffindor Crowley and Ravenclaw Aziraphale. Some good Harry Potter AUs are Potter Omens by sadaf, St. Joseph of Cupertino, Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles, and the Legacy of James Bond by Interrobam, A Look into a Magic Mirror by athousandelegies, and Saturday by Elvendork.

This leads to another point which is the links Good Omens have with other fandoms. There are Obviously the links with Supernatural given that their Crowley was literally named after ours, but there are also a weird amount of Wolfstar (Remus Lupin/Sirius Black) crossover fics and a lot of them involve them all sleeping with each other?? Anyway. I’ve also noticed that p. much all the Raffles fandom tend to be Good Omens fans too.

Finally you have the Shakespeare/Marlowe fandom so there are a lot of jokes in fandom at the moments about Crowley/Shakespeare (ship name: Snakespeare). I’m laying the blame firmly on @macdicilla and this post.

Music!! I LOVE @ajcrawly‘s The Ritz Does Not Admit Nightingales but 8tracks is useless for UK pals atm. Every playlist of Good Omen will have Queen and A Nightingale Sung in Barkley Square, I’m sorry I don’t make the rules.

And then there are the blogs!!:

@audiomens (with transcripts of the radio 4 adaptation)

@incorrect-good-omens-quotes

@thisbutgoodomens (taking posts and making them Good Omens, tag them if you think there’s a post they would appreciate!!)

@goodomensheadcanons

There are the blogs I’ve mentioned above, like @not-a-space-alien and @macdicilla (you can’t have one without the other), and @futureevilscientist, @irisbleufic, @kogla, @lunasong365, @askajcrowley, @a-poc-alypse, @ajcrawly

Also worth following are, @milkythefrozen, @pridoo, @maniacalmole, @ladylier, @thisisadecisionimayregret, @la-petite-robe-jaune, @sous-le-saule, @rocksalive, @nemeankitten, @everything-good-omens, @fyeahgo and tbh there are heaps more, I’m sorry if I’ve missed you off, I have a memory worse than like 99% of the population (according to my educational psychologist). If you want to be added just put a reply or message me or smth :D

Finally, I’d like to thank @not-a-space-alien for their welcome kit, @futureevilscientist for theirs, @ladylier for giving me ideas to talk about, @lunasong365 for showing me their playlist, and @a-poc-alypse for pointing me in the direction of their tags.

Okay. I think that’s it?? If you have anything further to add just post it below or message me or put it on the tags or replies whatever basically. If you disagree, or I’ve got something wrong, or you want to be added/taken away as a source then don’t hesitate to tell me!! (but please don’t send me hate, I’m trying my best and I’ll work hard to compensate)

:D

[kira-sucks-lawlipops]

My pitch for an American Death Note movie

And now I would like to take a break from angry posting about how shitty the upcoming noteflix movie is going to be to pitch my own, not perfect but less shitty, version.

WARNING: This is REALLY long. I was only gonna fix White Yagami and make up a few sentences of plot but then I got really into it. (Also I was just making it up as I went so if it’s good maybe Netflix should hire me.)

First up, I’m not trying to retell the story of the manga/anime, because there are already movies that do that. I’m pitching a story for an American audience, with some big changes. My intent is that this would work either as a standalone film (for an audience that is unfamiliar with the series) or it could exist in the same universe (for the existing fans/the new fans who go back to the source material because the movie is good.) More on this later.

Okay, so there is no White Yagami. In fact, there is no Light at all because I firmly believe that his character/story makes no sense if you take away his Japanese upbringing. And if I’m going to change Light, then I may as well change all of the characters/world around him. I have put like zero thought into naming or creating new characters tho, so for now I am just going to call our protagonist Proxy!Light. (Bear with me guys, there’s a lot of this.)

Act 1: The Fall

Proxy!Light is an African American student in his late teens living somewhere in the USA where there is a high crime rate, racial tension, religion and a corrupt police force. (I’m Australian so I don’t know the exact location. Maybe somewhere in the Bible Belt?) He is more likely to make an emotional decision than a rational one, he comes from a happy nuclear family and he is not an apathic genius. He is optimistic, caring, a bit naive but overall a genuinely good guy who wants to make the world a better place. He is in his senior year of high school and is trying to get his grades as high as possible to land a scholarship, because he has no chance of attending university without one. He wants to be a lawyer, but failing this will probably try for the police force. No matter what, he wants to be in the justice system, protecting and serving his community.

He finds the death note, and Ryuk or a Proxy!Shinigami (again, more on this later) explains what it is. He refuses to use it, because killing people is wrong, but keeps it so it won’t fall into the wrong hands.

This would be a good place to throw in some religious imagery: Proxy!Light attending church with his family, Ryuk and the power he offers are presented as being an evil, corrupting force, etc. But Proxy!Light hasn’t fallen yet.

One day, Proxy!Light’s father is murdered by the police. It’s the same story we’ve seen before: he was doing nothing wrong, but was racially profiled and the police used lethal force. Proxy!Light’s world is shattered. His father, a good man, is demonised by the media while the police force, which he has always seen as a protective presence, fabricates a case to make the innocent man they killed seem guilty in the eyes of the world. Proxy!Sayu places herself in the front lines of a social movement which demands justice for her father and is labelled as a criminal who incites riots. Proxy!Sachiko tries to go the official route and hold the officers who killed her husband accountable, but the case never even makes it to court. Eventually she is forced to drop it when she starts receiving threats against her children.

Proxy!Light is unable to cope with what happened. His grades drop and he loses any chance of a scholarship. Law school is out of the question now and he has been thoroughly disillusioned on the police force. Everything he believed in has been turned on its head and he knows that there is no way that it can be made right again. He decides to take justice into his own hands and uses the death note to kill all of the police officers involved in the death of his father.

And now we enter Act 2: the arrival of Proxy!L and Proxy!Misa.

We open in church again. The preacher (priest? minister? wizard? idk) is praying for the officers that died, and encouraging people to remain calm and sensitive in this difficult time. Someone asks if the heart attacks that killed all those officers was an act of god. The preacher says no, because god is a loving force, not destructive (or something to that effect.) Most people seem to approve of this message, including Proxy!Sachiko, but there are some in the crowd who disagree. They argue that the officers were murderers, and if god did kill them it would be good old-testament justice. Proxy!Light likes the sound of this.

Proxy!Sayu gets up and addresses the crowd. She does not care about the religious implications of the police officers dying of heart attacks, she cares about the facts that their deaths did nothing to solve the problems embedded in their community’s broken justice system. She will be continuing to organise peaceful protests until their concerns are heard, and she encourages everyone to stand with her.

Throw in some more religious imagery here. Proxy!Light has now fallen. The support of the crowd fuels his belief that he is doing the right thing, but when he sees that his remaining family are opposed to him he begins isolating himself from them.

And now the real fun begins.

Proxy!L is not the World’s Greatest Detective, and he is in no way similar to the Ryuzaki persona we all know and love and/or hate. He is an FBI agent and a complete fucking asshole. Maybe he’s a genius, maybe he’s just really good at his job, but he definitely arrogant as all fuck and a nightmare to work with. I am picturing him as older and surly. Like, he thinks he should have been promoted above field work a long time ago but it’s never happened because no one can stand him. But if you want to cash in on that sweet lawlight fangirl goldmine (yes pls) then he could be a young, attractive prodigy. Either way, he shows up to this terrified and racially divided town and takes over the investiagtion into the sudden and unexplainable deaths of several police officers.

Proxy!L is accompanied by his partner Proxy!Naomi. She is basically exactly the same and is definitely still Japanese or Japanese-American, because that will be important later. She is the only one who can stand Proxy!L because she takes none of his shit. These two care deeply for each other and are an unstoppable team, but things are tense between them right now because Proxy!Naomi just got married, and after this case is wrapped up she will be leaving the FBI.

The partners show up in the wake of some violent backlash from the police. The surviving officers are angry over their friend’s deaths and believe that Proxy!Sayu and the other protesters are responsible, so they declare the protest to be a riot and shut it down, placing Proxy!Sayu and as many other prominent protesters as they can grab under arrest.

Proxy!L and Proxy!Naomi arrive at the tail end of this mess. They berate the officers for their hysteria and over the top violent reponse, and immediately take over. All of the low-level protesters are let go, but the FBI agents want to interrogate any of the organisers that they have in custody.

This is where we are formally introduced to Proxy!Misa. She is one of Proxy!Sayu’s friends who has been organising protests with her. We have seen her participating in collective action with Proxy!Sayu a few times before but this is the first time we have spoken to her. The girls have not been treated well in the arrest and are already hostile. Their interrogations are cut together, and now it’s exposition time!

We see Proxy!L and Proxy!Naomi working together, using different strategies with each girl and we start to get a feel for their dynamic and the fact that they are a great team. They tell both girls that there have been more deaths than anyone realises. All over the country, police officers and other people in the justice system have been mysteriously dying of heart attacks. Everyone who has died has been accused of corruption and/or the unlawful deaths of POC. No one in the public has connected the dots yet, but it’s only a matter of time, and then there will be nation-wide hysteria and violent crackdowns on POC communities like the one we just witnessed at the protest. No one wants that, which is why these two are here where it all started trying to hunt the killer down. Proxy!Sayu reacts with anger and disgust. She knows that things are bad and wants to create change, but doesn’t believe it can be accomplished with violence and death. Proxy!Misa’s feelings are more complicated. She take the position that the deaths are the result of divine retribution, and while she doesn’t openly endorse the killing, she thinks that people who do bad things should be held accountable no matter what. During the interrogation she reveals her backstory; she survived a home invasion as a child. A criminal killed her parents and took her hostage, but the police managed to subdue him non-lethally because he was white. The fact the the man who terrorised her and destroyed her family is alive and in jail while POC are being killed by police for no reason is what drove her to join Proxy!Sayu’s movement.

Meanwhile, Proxy!Sachiko has learned from one of the protesters that were released that her underage daughter has been placed under arrest and she is furious and frightened. She and Proxy!Light head to the police station and demand that they be able to see Proxy!Sayu. The police are dismissive at first but when pushed become openly hostile. Proxy!Sachiko is torn between the need to protect her daughter and not wanting to escalate the situation and endanger her son. Proxy!Light doesn’t give a shit. From the way he starts spitting his new anti-cop rhetoric in this place full of armed cops you might think that he has a death wish (spoiler alert- he kinda does.) Luckily, Proxy!Naomi and Proxy!L arrive just as things are about to turn ugly. Proxy!Naomi smooths things over while Proxy!L just stares at his shiny new N#1 suspect. The girls are free to go, and on the way out of the building Proxy!Misa introduces herself to Proxy!Light and asks him to walk her home. When he agrees, there is a split second where her eyes flash red.

Proxy!L and Proxy!Naomi discuss the case. He wants to focus on Proxy!Light but she thinks their best suspect at this point is Proxy!Misa. This is where we can introduce some of the tension between them over the fact that Proxy!Naomi will quit and leave him soon. They come to agreement over how to proceed with the investigation. They are both encouraged by the fact that they seem to have zeroed in on the killer so quickly, but are frustrated because they have no ideas about how the heart attacks are being caused. Neither of them seriously consider the supernatural angle.

On the way to her home (I’m imagining that it’s night now, and the two have wandered into some visually interesting/appropriate location) Proxy!Misa tells Proxy!Light that she knows he killed the police officers who killed his father. He tries to lie his way out of it but he is a bad liar. She reveals that she has her own death note and was able to identify him by using the shinigami eyes (which she also explains.) Finally, she tells him that she has followed his example and started killing people all over the country. At first, Proxy!Light is opposed to this. It was personal for him, and he claims that justice has been done and she has screwed things up by attracting the attention of the FBI on to them. But he very quickly comes around to Proxy!Misa’s way of thinking. The two of them have been given a great gift, and they should use it to bring justice to everyone in the world who has been denied it up until now. He even pushes the rhetoic one step further. If they are re-making the justice system, then it will be their job to take over as judge, jury and executioner until things have re-stablised. They should start killing crininals too, and gradually remove all bad people until they have created a new world full of only good people.

It is clear that Proxy!Light has been building toward this for a while, and was just waiting for an excuse to go full-Kira. Having a willing partner is the catalyst which gives him the confidence to push on. I am trying to downplay the obsessive and stalkerish nature of Proxy!Misa, so let’s assume she is willing to throw herself into this cause like she threw herself into the protests. The two teens feed off each other’s bloodlust and we become aware that we are witnessing the creation of something terrible. More religious imagery, as we cut into a montage of several days worth of the two planning and creating their world together, scribbling in notebooks while the death toll climbs into the hundreds and dramatic orchestral music plays.

And from here I don’t have a detailed plan on how the rest of the story would play out. I know that I want to have Proxy!Light and Proxy!L interact directly and have a bit of chemistry (probably Proxy!L fixates on him as wants to get close to figure out how the heart attacks work.) How their dynamic plays out will depend on the age gap between them and some other factors which I haven’t put a lot of thought into. I have downplayed the genius aspect but I want there to be at least one big dramatic mindgame showdown between the two of them, as a shout out to what we all loved from the original story. Proxy!L wins the battle of wits, but Proxy!Light plays a trump card in the form of his supernatural advantage, allowing Proxy!Misa to kill Proxy!L at the end of act 2.

Act 3: Everything goes to hell

Proxy!Naomi is reeling from the loss of her partner. She has now been forced to accept that the supernatural exists and she needs to take down two meglomaniac teenagers who literally weild the power of death itself.

Proxy!Light and Proxy!Misa continue to go mad with power and try to reshape the world with death.

I want some more social/religious commentary around wether what is happening is right or wrong and some hints of a cult of followers building and meeting violent opposition from people who condemn the killings. This is going on in the background while most of the third act is focused on Proxy!Naomi and Proxy!Light trying to kill each other.

The twist is that Proxy!Light can’t kill Proxy!Naomi with the death note because, while she goes by her married name, the name that he needs to kill her is her maiden name. Proxy!Misa can’t read it with her eyes because it’s written in kanji characters (which is why it’s important that she’s Japanese!) I don’t know exactly how it plays out but the film ends with Proxy!Naomi killing Proxy!Light. Roll credits.

Okay, now remember how I said there would be more stuff about how this could possibly fit into the canon? That’s because I have two main ideas about how you could do this. 1. This movie is set post-canon. I definitely think this could work, with only a few tweaks. Proxy!Light and Proxy!Misa would be inspired by the original Kira, the police force would know that someone had a death note and was coming for them, etc. This would probably make the movie more rewarding for the fans of the original story, because we would see how things are in the post-Kira world and you could have cool stuff like the shinigami who drops the notebook being a reincarnation of Light Yagami. The disadvantage to this is that it’s more alienating to audiences who aren’t familiar with the original story. 2. The story is set pre-canon, probably 90s or earlier. I think this is the better way to do it, because we know from Ryuk that death notes have ended up in the human world before. In this case you would take away Proxy!Misa’s notebook, and bend the rules a little. She is just a supporter who makes an eye trade using Proxy!Light’s notebook. You would also have to dial back the scale of death, make it that all the murders happen in one place instead of nation-wide so it coukd feasibly be hushed up later (which is why it’s not mentioned in canon.)

OKAY WOW. This was a much longer ride than I meant it to be. I’ve really tried to tell an American-ised version of the Death Note story which is interesting and rewarding for fans and new audiences alike. (If we have to have one, at keast make it good, right?) I hope I’ve stuck to some of the core themes of the story while also making the adaption original and not compete garbage. I would love to hear other people’s ideas!!! Either for more changes/ideas for things we could do with this pitch or a pitch of your own! I’m going to track the tags:

#saynotonoteflix #saynotowhiteyagami