#they still do that in-game (flynn especially) but less obviously so

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

Bowsario Rapunzel AU

Okay so I saw @istadris' post about figuring out what fairytale would fit Bowsario best and then I spent all day yesterday thinking way too hard about Rapunzel. This was supposed to be a little pithy ‘oh it's Tangled but Bowser’s Flynn’ thing, but then I started thinking about how being locked in a tower by himself would fuck with Mario’s psyche A Lot and then I had a 2.5k word outline oopsies. [Edit: It's now on AO3, too!]

So regarding Bowsario fairytales I would like to formally submit Rapunzel with Mario stuck in the tower for Magical Curse Reasons I haven't figured out yet.

Bowser hears about this and visits regularly to taunt him about it because he thinks it's hilarious the best and bravest knight of the Mushroom Kingdom who was always a personal pain in Bowser’s side when he'd go terrorize it got himself cursed.

(And then Bowser goes to terrorize said kingdom in Mario’s absence and severely underestimates Luigi, who kicks his ass so thoroughly that Bowser goes back to Mario's tower to complain about it. Music to Mario's ears, that is.)

(The insults directed to Luigi himself, on the other hand...much less so. And since Mario’s stuck up in the tower all he really could do to defend his brother was insult Bowser right back, instead of jumping down and wringing his neck like he sorely wanted to, with overcharged barbs that not only channeled Mario's overprotective big brother energy but also the genuine frustration and fear about being stuck in one place, isolated from his brother and his friends and the world as it spun on and on without him for maybe the rest of his life)

Eventually Bowser figures out that if he climbs the tower then he can get a better look at Mario's angry face as he insults him and thus derive even more joy from making this goody-two-shoes knight lose his composure.

But then he gets up there and Mario's anger turns out to obviously just be a way to cope with being sad and lonely and scared Bowser realizes that insulting Mario isn't really that fun anymore (Have the last couple of times been fun either? Especially as rumors started circulating, and Bowser pieces more things together about Mario's situation? And as he starts to wonder what it would be like if it was him, separated from his Koopalings against his will in a similar way — would his eyes have that same defeated and despondent look Mario’s do right now, a look that doesn't suit Mario at all?)

Bowser finds himself starting to feel low-key bad about making fun of Mario all this time, and about Mario's current lot in life. It eats away at him until Bowser begrudgingly starts acting nicer, and then he and Mario start having proper conversations that aren't angry screaming matches.

And then maybe Bowser starts visiting longer and more often, bringing card games to pass the time, or food Mario hasn't been able to have in a while, or some new books and recent newspapers to read, or a kidnapped Luigi or Peach to hug for the first time in ages...

Maybe even a different kingdom tries to capitalize on Mario's absence, wanting to attack the Mushroom Kingdom for one reason or another, and Bowser realizes that if he lets them win Mario will be sad and probably lose the will to live while he's at it. And the spark in Mario’s eyes had literally just come back more often than not these days...Bowser sighs. He has Kamek pen a letter to Luigi and Peach offering aid. He goes to the Mushroom Kingdom personally to prove he's not kidding, and maybe Luigi and Peach catch on to Bowser's true feelings about Mario even before Bowser himself has.

When the dust from the invasion settles, Bowser and Peach hash out a fledgling alliance/peace treaty in the wake of it. Mario is ecstatic when Bowser tells him, and it takes most of the journey back home for Bowser to figure out why he's still flustered about the way Mario had looked at him for the rest of the visit.

Meanwhile, Mario is kind of baffled about the concept of Bowser being nice now. The insults from before were awful, sure, but it was a routine. It was something to focus on that wasn't the walls slowly caving in on him despite them not moving an inch, the yawning jaws of apathy lurking in his blind spot getting ready to swallow him whole, how he was already starting to forget what his family's voices sounded like —

(Luigi and Peach do visit, don't get me wrong. But Peach has a kingdom to run almost single-handedly, and Luigi is practically running himself ragged trying to fill in the void that Mario had been forced to leave behind because the big brother he was supposed to rely on had gone and poked something he shouldn't have like an absolutely stupid idiot. The tower is a multiple days' journey from the heart of the Mushroom Kingdom, just barely on the outskirts in a forgotten corner of it, and neither of them really have a way of getting up the tower, with it being so tall and the doors being locked. So. Less frequent visits than they would like.)

(They send as many letters as they can, though. Mario reads them at least five times and reverently puts each in a special box in a hiding spot to keep them safe, to bring out on particularly hopeless days. Luigi and Peach do the same with Mario's replies back home.)

(They're delivered by Toad, who's the only one willing to go all the way to the outskirts of the Kingdom to begin with — none of the other mailmen are especially willing, despite Peach’s pleas. He goes with a bundle of letters to the tower, gets them to Mario via some sort of cable system or something, and then camps there for a few days as Mario writes his replies. It's him that first informs Luigi and Peach of Bowser’s visits, having witnessed one of them — thankfully it was one of the...lesser charged ones.)

So. The weekly interruptions were welcomed by Mario. Even if they were annoying.

And then Bowser had the bright idea to come up here, which...wasn't ideal. He didn't need Bowser to see the mess he lived in, for starters, and once Bowser was face to face with him who knew what fodder he would be getting to insult him further? Especially with how vulnerable Mario had been lately?

But for all of Mario's imagined fears, the poorly-masked pity he got from Bowser of all people, King of the Darklands and the number one enemy of the Mushroom Kingdom, was a thousand times worse.

Bowser had continued to act off for the next few visits. He hadn't come back up to Mario's room, staying on the ground and shouting up at him about random things like weird inter-kingdom gossip he'd heard from his advisors or some of the other kingdoms he was sending his troops to and why or 'your brother’s a real piece of work I tried to kidnap the Princess last week and he went and talked down my Chain Chomps I literally trained them to bite everything they see with no hesitation when the fuck did that loser stop being a wimp' followed by the most concerningly detailed reportback on the Mushroom Kingdom's current defenses Mario had ever heard, considering Bowser wasn't supposed to have any way of getting half the information he was telling Mario due to both being banned from stepping foot where most of those defenses were located and the ironclad loyalty of the Kingdom’s citizens. He even started to include an upsettingly long list of inferred weaknesses, at which point Mario hurried to invite him into the tower proper so he wasn't just shouting them for anyone to hear.

From there Bowser’s visits officially got less annoying; instead of the distraction Bowser provided being a chance for Mario to yell and be mean until he tired himself out it was instead Bowser awkwardly telling him that Peach and Luigi were looking more or less healthy, he thought, based on how hard they fought against him the other day. Or it was Bowser sharing stories about his kids, whom Mario hadn't known existed until now, and Mario telling childhood stories about Luigi in return. Or it was getting to eat pizza for the first time in weeks, and almost bursting into tears before practically eating himself sick.

Or it was that one time the night of the Mushroom Kingdom's Star Festival when they figured out that Mario could access the roof, so they sat up there and watched the countless shooting stars for most of the night, teasing each other about the wishes they were making on them, until Mario fell asleep up there leaning against Bowser, the celebratory lights and fireworks from the capital visible from even way out here. Bowser had even brought a few fireworks of his own, based on secondhand knowledge about how this festival was celebrated, and they had lit them in a manner that was definitely and decidedly unsafe. Yet the fireworks at the castle had seemed to burn brighter and burst louder upon them doing so.

Or it was that other time when they figured out that Mario couldn't go down the tower like he could climb up to the roof — he would hit some sort of invisible floor and would seemingly be standing there in midair scaring passersby like Toad half to death. And then a few weeks later during a summer storm Mario had the bright idea to stand outside on said invisible floor to get soaked to the bone, and a few hours after Bowser called him crazy and pulled him back inside and pretended that Mario was just wiping rain from his face and nothing else Mario started sneezing, and Bowser had to stay with him a few extra days. Just to make sure Mario didn't keel over and die and waste the sweets Bowser had bought at the market before he came over here, that was all. Mario knew he didn't like this flavor of candy, Bowser had said, and he sure as hell wasn't letting his kids eat all of it and dealing with their sugar rushes. Besides, he could hardly get back home right now anyway, with the roads so muddy.

Or it was Bowser telling him about how Peach had held a ball for the first time since Mario had “disappeared” and it had gotten completely derailed because someone loudly and conspicuously talked shit about Mario within earshot of Peach.  Luigi was across the room and Bowser couldn't let a Princess get her hands dirty so he had to obviously not let that shit go unanswered and haul that idiot out by his gaudy lapels and throw him into the moat himself to teach him a lesson and — why are you looking at me like that. What did I — she had better things to do then — stop laughing — they were all just standing there, what else was I — argh, shut up! I’ll show you funny, come here, you —!

It was a far cry from the abrasive hostility that Bowser wore like a cloak whenever he'd attack their kingdom in the past and Mario...liked it. It was nice. He looks forward to Bowser's visits, as regular as they were.

But...Bowser keeps talking in the future tense, about places in his kingdom he’s going to take Mario that’ll pale in comparison to any sights in the Mushroom Kingdom and people he’s going to bring Mario to meet because they can't make the trek here and all sorts of experiences that he’s decided they’re gonna have, all of which were very much impossible to have in the tower. And while the optimism was certainly appreciated, it...was never going to lead anywhere, Mario knew. He'd tried it, at the beginning of all this. It hadn't worked out.

And yet Bowser keeps at it, even if Mario would roll his eyes and shake his head every time he brought it up, that stubborn brash confidence that he could get Mario out of here slowly but surely reigniting that spark in Mario's soul that had dimmed but not quite died, holding a mirror to that hero’s spirit that persevered against all odds, no matter how small or nonexistent. And somehow, Mario starts to believe that Bowser would get him out of here, actually.

Which, of course, is when Bowser stops visiting all of a sudden.

Almost immediately after Bowser had realized he was Attached he’d tasked Kamek and Kammy with researching how to get Mario out of the tower, and finally, finally, they found something that would actually work. But in order to get it ready — or, perhaps, by consequence of getting it ready — they had to drop off the map with no warning, so Mario gets to sit in his room and spiral for a week or two or three. Within this spiral Mario thinks about what Bowser means to him, realizes that it's more than just a distraction from his situation and that there was a nonzero amount of hope and affection attached, and spirals harder. He doesn't quite spiral to the point of things getting as bad as those first few weeks, but it gets pretty dang close. For example, for the first time in weeks and months he tries to do everything he can to escape the tower again, short of throwing himself out the window (because he already knew that wouldn't work).

It's another couple of days after those futile efforts that Mario wakes up from a nap. It was arguably one of the best naps he’d had in years, he thought as he sat up and stretched, to have him feeling so much lighter than when he'd fallen asleep. It takes him a second to register an unfamiliar noise in the tower, and another three to realize it's the door, specifically the door handle, and Mario squints at it. He's not sure why it's moving, but it's not like it could be opened; Mario had locked it ages ago, shortly after discovering he couldn't leave the tower that way, and then the door had sealed itself shut, and Mario couldn't open it again even if he'd wanted to. And the door at the bottom of the tower was similarly closed off, so the stairwell itself was supposed to be inaccessible.

Mario creeps closer to the door and hears muttering. It...sounds like Bowser, almost. The muttering turns frustrated, and then there's banging on the door. That doesn't work either, Mario already knew; he’d almost broken bones in his hands trying that.

Except...the hinges are starting to bend, and the stone is starting to crack. Mario has a second to rub his eyes to see if he’s still dreaming before, with an almighty crash, the entire door and most of its frame falls forward, dust and fragments of stone raining down from where it once was.

Bowser glares at the door, smoke coming from his nose in an angry huff, and then he looks up and sees Mario. They stare at each other. 

Bowser quickly dons a boastful smirk. How about that, he brags, I told you I could get you out of here! No need to thank me or anything —

Mario punches him in the face.

Bowser recoils in pain, and he's offended for about two seconds before he starts laughing, loud and delighted. And here I was wondering if you were gonna wither away while I was gone, he cackles, and Mario can't help the twitch of his lips at that.

(He does kick Bowser in the shins, though. As a warning to never fucking do that again he thought he been abandoned up here —)

(Abandoned? As if! Bowser grins and scoffs. I like you, so you're stuck with me, pipsqueak, and there's fuck-all you can do about it!)

(Mario contemplates pushing him down the stairs. He settles for a hug instead, which was just as well because doing so seemed to throw Bowser off his game more than otherwise. His cheeks were bright red when Mario pulled away, and Mario smirked at him, despite his own face being pink to match.)

Mario packs up his stuff (i.e. grabs his boxes of mail and stuffs them in a bag, and then also puts the various gifts he's received from Peach and Luigi and Toad and Bowser into it) and with one last look around at this shoddily-gilded cage Bowser and Mario start descending the staircase.

They approach the point where the curse would usually stop Mario from progressing any further and Mario hesitates. Bowser pulls him over the invisible threshold with a casual ease, and Mario has to take a minute to stave off the incoming onslaught of tears about the fact that the curse was truly broken. Bowser awkwardly tries to comfort him, and Mario pulls himself together with a watery laugh at the attempt before marching the rest of the way down the stairs, Bowser right behind him.

(And it was a good thing that Bowser was so close, because it turns out being cooped up in one room for several months meant your stamina rested at an all-time low. Bowser had to carry Mario at the halfway mark down the rest of the way, to the embarrassment and secret delight of both of them.)

The two of them step outside. Mario squints, the sun bright in the sky. Luigi and Peach are there waiting for him, and he stumbles over to crush them both in as tight a hug he can manage; the three of them cry a lot and are generally glad that they don't have to be separated anymore and maybe poke a little fun about how pale Mario is now.

Bowser watches them from a slight distance, nearer to Kamek and Kammy, letting them have their Moment(tm). Yeah, he'd meant it when he said he wasn't going to leave Mario ever, but also he's feeling like the world's biggest fourth wheel of a tricycle right now and the uncertainty about what’s going to happen now that Mario had his family back and didn't have to rely on him for socialization anymore is starting to fuck him up a little. Kammy tells him not to worry about it while giving him a Mushroom for the bruise on his face. Bowser is having a hard time not worrying about it.

The Mushroom Kingdom trio finally part — well, Luigi and Mario are still draped over each other and Luigi’s still crying, but that's neither here nor there — and Peach goes over to Bowser to thank him profusely, to the point where Bowser starts squirming both because of the genuine uninhibited positive emotions being expressed and also if he’d been in this exact scenario a year ago he’d be milking it for all it was worth but now it’s just something to sit through as he steals glances at Mario throughout. He’s not exactly subtle, with those glances, and Peach starts teasing him about it. Bowser scowls, face red. 

Peach mentions that they’re going to have to plan something for Mario’s formal return, including letting the Mushroom Kingdom citizens know about it. Bowser, of course, is more than welcome to join the inevitable festivities.

I can handle things back home, Kamek says, I was already basically doing that anyway, with how often you were gallivanting over here instead. He shoots a pointed look at Bowser, who rolls his eyes.

As long as it's not one of your ridiculous parties, Bowser grumbles to Peach, Red hasn't talked to anyone besides us in ages you can't just parade him around for your people.

Red? Aw, is that your nickname for him? A color? Peach laughs.

...What did he ever see in her, honestly.

The last thing they do before they leave is destroy the tower. Bowser’s brought some explosives with him, for some godforsaken reason, and Mario and Luigi and Peach take great delight in spending the rest of the day rending the entire structure to rubble with him. Kamek and Kammy pull out all the decor from the tower’s main room and Mario gets the honor of lighting the whole thing up in flames. It's very cathartic. 

In the morning, they’re all going to go back to the Mushroom Kingdom to celebrate Mario’s return in a more semi-private setting, and then work out how to do so plus thank Bowser and his advisors for their efforts in a more formal and public way later.

But for now, Mario watches the light from the makeshift bonfire somehow cast Bowser’s fond grin warmer than it already was, and Bowser watches Mario’s eyes sparkle brighter than any fire or star could barely dream of managing. New freedoms meant new beginnings, and as they reached for each other’s hands they knew that this beginning was already off to a great start.

[jinxed-thylacine]

Genuinely every time I see people complain about how Sonic characters are characterized in the modern day I'm just like "okay and?"

Why is Amy mellowing out and focusing on things that aren't Sonic a bad thing

Why is Silver being nowhere near as aggressive as he was in 06 and the Rivals duology a bad thing

Why is Shadow not being hyperfocused on Maria (but still working to keep his promise to her mind you) a bad thing

Why is how Ian Flynn writes Sonic bad (and btw he essentially gets commissioned by Sega to write the games and comics. If Sega didn't like what he was doing they'd tell him and I know this because he's talked about it on Bumblekast and some of his interpretations of the characters do contradict stuff he's written)

There are probably others but I can't think of any off the top of my head. The only character I understand complaining about is Knuckles, and even then obviously he's going to be misinterpreted sometimes, that comes with the territory of him being gullible. And that's the thing, every writer who has worked on Sonic, currently works on Sonic, or will work on Sonic will have different interpretations of each character, and there's nothing wrong with that.

It ends up turning into a double-standard for fans vs the people working on the series (and it is worth noting there's significant overlap there, especially in America) where people love seeing different interpretations of Sonic characters from fans (and some of these interpretations are objectively inaccurate to the characters in official content; that doesn't make them wrong however) but if official content deviates even slightly from what people are used to seeing because the writers interpret the characters differently, it's treated like the official writers are committing a crime.

Writing is an art just as much as games are and everyone will interpret how characters have been written differently, including current writers' interpretations of past games. I might interpret Shadow's arc in the 2000s one way, while someone else might interpret it completely differently.

You can have intended readings of what you're writing, and most of the time the Sonic writers do extremely well getting that intended reading across, but that doesn't mean everyone reads it the exact same way. The easiest way to get my point across using Sonic specifically (in my opinion) is by using Team Chaotix. Is their dynamic a dad and his two sons, an older brother and his two younger brothers, or two dads and their son? I personally think their dynamic fits "a dad and his two sons" better, but none of the interpretations I presented are wrong.

I could not care less about how Sonic characters are officially written in games or the comics because everyone's going to have a different interpretation of the characters, and the writers have to work within Sega's guidelines for the characters. It will always be like this until Sega comes up with solid, strict guidelines for how characters should be written, which is harder than it sounds (and no, I don't count their mandates because obviously there are still different characterization interpretations)

TL;DR: Nobody's interpretations of Sonic characters are wrong, if you get so mad about an interpretation of a character you like that you resort to harassment just block people please

[crusherthedoctor]

16, 22 and 23 :D

If you could change anything in the show, what would you change?

For the sake of not droning on endlessly, I'll only list some of the biggest ones. This is thinking more about the series as a whole rather than focusing on one game or adaptation in particular.

Understand the balance of being aware of what you're writing. I know people want the series to take itself seriously, and yeah, I don't want the characters to make nothing but meta quips either (actual meta, not "meta"), but the hard truth is that without a little bit of self-awareness, you get results like '06. Treat the story and characters sincerely by all means, but make sure to still have some (deliberate) fun with it.

Experiment more with character dynamics. Don't let the Heroes team formula restrict who can interact with who.

Eggman is the arch-villain. He's not a filler arc. Remember this.

Stop using super forms as a crutch. Not only does it reduce everyone else to cheerleaders, it also makes the characters with them look weak for needing to rely on them every time a serious threat emerges, since it implies they can't do anything meaningful without the Emeralds. Not to mention it makes every finale feel the same in terms of end progression. Think outside the box more. Push regular Sonic and Co to the limit, so that it's all the greater when they triumph against the odds. (Note that regular Sonic became strong enough to combat Perfect Chaos by the time of Generations.) Shame that Frontiers had to come along and make this already existing problem significantly worse by how much it milks Super Sonic, and how it's backed future games in a corner because now they'll have to do the same lest they be seen as having lower stakes... *bangs head against a wall*

Popular character you hate?

Surge, Scourge and Mephiles are the obvious trio, but I'll say the Freedom Fighters as well, since while I was only indifferent to them at first, the ridiculous pedestal fans have placed them on, and the demand to make everything in the franchise about them, has really soured me on them, and made me all too aware of the glaring issues I have with each of them.

And… while not quite to the same extent, that's kiiiiiinda sorta starting to happen with Amy as well, as much as I really hate to admit that. I don't want to say I hate Amy now or anything, but out of all the main game characters in the series, her fandom is especially prone to doing a lot of things that rub me the wrong way (like giving Tails a hard time, and treating Sonic less like a character and more like Amy's legal property). This is obviously not the character's fault, but when it's inescapable, it becomes harder to separate her from it all. I've also recently confessed to myself that the amount of portrayals where I think she's good honestly pale in comparison to those where she's flanderized one way (Battle, Chronicles) or the other (Boom), or made annoying in some other way (IDW, Prime).

So… I still like Amy for the few times where she's at her best, but I'd say she's arguably become the most overrated of the main cast when taking all of this into account.

Unpopular character you love?

In-character Eggman, in-character Rouge, in-character Tails…

Serious answer, the Heavies. I don't see anyone hating on them, but after Mania came and went, they don't get brought up all that much compared to other characters anymore. And the one time they came back in an official product, it was in Seasons of Chaos, which is not quite the comeback I had in mind for them.

There's also Marine. She doesn't get too much flack nowadays, but everyone really had an exaggerated hateboner for her when Rush Adventure came out. I on the other hand have always liked her, and knowing that Flynn hated her makes me like her even more. B)

[itfitsitshipsart]

Heyo!! It's super cool to find a selfshipper who ships with Raven/Schwann so 3, 9 and 15 for your TOV s/i please!! :D

( @pixelselfships )

Aw, thank you! ^3^ I love all my men, but Raven is my special sweetheart, so you dont know how happy that makes me feel~

3. how do the other characters generally feel about your self insert?

Overall, people consider her a kind soul and generally likable. The Vesperia group see her as a sort of doting mom friend after the events I'd the game, especially Karol, whose basically all but legally adopted. Don Whitehorse found her to be a quiet pushover at first, holding back a fiery spirit. He really helped her come out of her shell and felt at least a little proud of her.

As for Alexei, there were mixed feelings. He saw her as sort of extended family, her household being close to him and his work, and felt in part that he needed to help protect her after the loss of her parents. But he also ended up finding her a pain and annoyance as she became disobedient and more of a hindrance than a help.

Oh, and I can't forget to mention LeBlanc and the "Schwann Fan Club", as i like to call them ^^. They adore their 'Lady Evelyn' and how loyal and loving she is to their brave Captain. They would do just about anything for her.

9. who are your self insert’s closest friends?

I mean, other than Raven (what can I say? Marry your best friend), she's very close with Karol, the mother and son bond, and Estelle and Judy. With Judith the two bond a lot over their caretaking roles with the rest (and have womanly conversations. The old man blushes at just the thought~). And with Estelle, the two are close minded in some ways and history. Both were protected nobility who found themselves out in the world, want to do good, be kind, and heal others, and learned to live for themselves a bit more.

She would also have considered Don Whitehorse a friend of sorts, and his grandson Harry. She owed a lot to him and his help, and the two would get into quite the banter some days.

15. how does your self insert play a role in the plot of the story? do they help directly defeat the villain, support the heroes, etc.?

I'll try (and fail) to keep this short. Obviously, spoilers XD For background, since before the beginning of the game, Evelyn lived in Dahngrest and helped the Don in exchange for room and board. She met and saw the Vesperia crew a few times by then, they know she had a sort of friendship with Raven (side quest, anyone?) But she had actually known Raven/Schwann for a little over a year now (Schwann first, then Raven).

Some days after Don Whitehorse died, and Raven had rather solemnly told her to go home, and she wouldnt be seeing 'Raven' again because that mission was over, she went to Heliord. Previously (end of act 1), when Alexei saw Evelyn at Dahngrest he instructed her to go to the knights headquarters when she was 'done playing'. So she went there, and Alexei happily welcomed her back. He was less happy though as she began to push for answers. But what would she do if he told her his plans? Nothing, he assumed. Or perhaps she would help him in the future.

So Alexei gave her his 'evil monologue' about his plans for the empire, and blastia, and Estelle, and told her to stay put and behave. He left her under the watch of guards, and left to go get Estelle because Schwann should have been taking her to the rendezvous point in the near future.

Of course, Evelyn wasn't going to sit still. A year ago she would have, but not anymore. Alexei chosing LeBlanc and crew to guard her closely, failed. She fled to the capitol with many of Alexei's notes and plans in hand, and demanded to see the council and prince Ioder because she had proof that Alexei was committing treason.

Long story short, It was thanks to her that Flynn went after Alexei under those suspicions, and she also convinced LeBlanc and crew to go follow for concern for Schwann, even though they were still posted to guard her (since now with her accusing Alexei of treason she may have been in more danger). And thank goodness they got to him in time.

-

Well, I hope I didnt ramble too much and that everything made sense! I'm planning on writing out an overview of her entire story/character arc really soon. I hope you'll read that when I start posting it!

[the-edge-of-great]

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ friendsgiving ♥

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The silence that immediately follows “How did you spend your holidays?” is brief but deafening. Her heart sinks. She looks to Luke for help, but he’s watching the guys on the couch, eyes jumping between Alex and Reggie; the weight of the conversation seems to rest on their shoulders, and they don’t notice because they’re too busy avoiding everything, especially their bandmates.

So Julie backtracks, quickly. “I’m sorry,” she says, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t—Forget I said anything.” She reaches to fix the sheet music but realizes it’s already perfectly straight, and her hand falls flat, and there’s still an awkward silence, so she begins playing the start of Finally Free, which isn’t at all what they were working on, but this hasn’t happened before. She’s always been careful asking about their past because she doesn’t know how far is too far. And until now, she hasn’t struck out with any questions. They’ve been cool about it, mostly answering anything she wanted to know. If they didn’t want to talk about it, they kindly changed the subject. At some point, she thinks they became open books to her, and she them.

That’s why this question tumbled out so casually.

And that’s why the silence is scaring her.

Luke, finally, saves her. ��We’d spend Thanksgiving with my dad’s family,” he tells her with a smile, which she immediately mirrors as her shoulders slump with relief, “and for Christmas, we’d go to my aunt’s place to party with my mom’s side. She actually lives in Pasadena.” He chuckles. It takes her all of five seconds to realize why that’s funny to him, and then she breathes a laugh and rolls her eyes.

“Holidays were always hectic for me,” Reggie says next. Julie’s heart flutters. “Like, three or four days of traveling to make sure we see both sides, both sets of grandparents, and somehow not barf from all the food.” He and Luke share a laugh, and Alex smiles faintly as he jumps to his feet.

“I just remembered,” he says, stepping over Luke, “I’m meeting Willie today.” He looks back at them briefly, his smile weak and probably forced, before vanishing.

Reggie and Luke share a look. Mumbling something about the beach, Reggie disappears too.

As soon as he’s gone, Julie’s face drops to her hands. “That was a disaster,” she groans.

“Family’s just a hard topic for them,” Luke replies quietly.

Chewing on her lip, Julie takes Alex’s spot next to him. “Tell me why?” she asks softly.

“Sure, since they outed all of my shit last month.” He chuckles.

“Whaaat?” Julie shakes her head. “They didn’t—” The look he gives her makes her stumble. Sheepishly, she adds, “They were trying to help.”

“I know.” Shaking his head, he explains, “Reggie’s parents fought a lot. So much that he didn’t like us coming over, like, ever. It was, seriously, all the time.”

“Fighting, like… arguing? Or…?”

“Just arguing,” he reassures. “They’d scream at each other, and sometimes at him if he got in the middle of it, but…” Luke sighs. “Just arguing.”

“And… Alex?”

He pauses, gaze dropping to his lap, and Julie’s stomach turns. She reaches for his hand, half to grab his attention again, half because she feels she’ll need a better alternative to digging her nails into her palm when she hears whatever he has to say. He intertwines their fingers, locking her hand in a grip tighter than she expected. If she wasn’t nervous before, she is now.

“Alex’s parents weren’t cool with him being gay.”

Julie sits up straighter. “What—What does that mean?” She needs better clarification because she knows what that could mean—she’s seen it on the news, on Tumblr and Twitter and Instagram, heard about it through the grapevine of high school—and her heart aches at the idea of Alex—sweet, caring Alex—going through anything of the sort.

“They didn’t kick him out which, I guess, is something, but they just… stopped caring. They stopped acknowledging him.”

Julie shakes her head. “They don’t deserve any praise for not kicking him out,” she says quietly, lip curling at her words. “Not for doing less than the bare minimum of being parents.”

“Getting angry over it is a lost cause.” He smiles sadly at her. “You don’t know how many times we talked about getting him out of his house. Both of ‘em. Bobby and I would spend nights out here, drawing up plans to run away to Vegas or something.”

“I should’ve never brought it up,” she mumbles. “I know holidays are hard for some people.”

“Hey, no, it’s okay.” He shakes his head, turning to her and taking her other hand in his. “It’s okay. You didn’t know. Besides, it was bound to come up eventually. Family’s just… different, you know?”

Julie sighs, shoulders slumping forward. She watches Luke’s thumb rub across her knuckles. Thanksgiving is in a few days; her house is going to be lively with the whole family. When Mom was alive, the studio was a place for the kids to hangout. Obviously, nobody went near it after she died. Dad locked it up before people began arriving. Julie wonders, as she looks around the room, if they’ll open it to the family again. Or maybe it should stay closed for the guys’ sake.

“So… No holidays?” she asks. “At all? ‘Cause… I have an idea…”

Luke raises an eyebrow. “What’re you thinking?”

“It’s this thing called… Friendsgiving.”

~**~**~**~

Star Wars and other movies downloaded to the computer? Check. Computer hooked up to the projector? Check. Two white sheets borrowed from Flynn strung up in front of the instruments? Check.

“Are the lights too much?” Julie asks, waving her phone around the room to show off her decorations. “They feel too much.”

“No, fairy lights are cute!” Flynn exclaims through the phone. “And you went through all the work hanging them up.”

“I know we think they’re cute, but will they think they’re cute?”

“Jules, they’re like puppies; they’ll be excited about anything.”

“Okay.” Julie nods. “Okay.” The lights are weaved around the loft railing and framing the sides of the sheets. She had to improvise with Christmas lights, so when she turns them on, instead of faint white, a soft rainbow glows off the loft and cascades down to the floor.

“Look okay?” she asks Flynn again. She doesn’t know why she’s so nervous. It’s just Luke, Reggie, and Alex… But Reggie and Alex haven’t had a good Thanksgiving in a while. So, okay, maybe there’s a little pressure for things to be perfect. Or a lot. Maybe the lights is overdoing it—

“Dude, what’s up with you?” she hears Alex say outside.

“They’re here!” Julie stage whispers.

“Okay?” Flynn says just as soft. “Go talk to them? And the lights are cute! Keep them on!”

“As Julie would say,” Reggie adds, voice getting louder as he nears the studio, “you’re acting hella sus.”

“Wait, wait,” Luke says, probably trying to stop him. “Just—Wait a second.”

“I’ll text you later,” Julie tells Flynn as she heads for the door.

“Julie!”

“What?!”

Flynn smiles at her. “They’re going to love it, okay?”

Julie stops, hand inches from the door handle. Taking a deep breath, she returns Flynn’s smile. “Thanks, Flynn.”

Feet shuffle out of the way of the door that swings open a few inches. Julie pokes her head out. “Hi there,” she says, grinning.

Alex squints at her. “You’re in on it too, huh?”

“Alex, honey, I planned it.”

Luke, who froze in the middle of holding Reggie back with arms around his chest when Julie stepped out, backs off and joins her by the door.

“And you guys never figured it out!” he says proudly, fist bumping her.

Reggie and Alex share a look that makes her think yeah, no, they totally figured something was going on. She giggles.

“Well, uh…” Julie glances over her shoulder. “You guys want to see what the secret is?” She leans against the door to push it open and waves them past. “Ta-da.”

Along with the Christmas lights is a lamp beside the couch, covered by a blanket to dim the brightness. In place of the coffee table she pushed to the side are pillows and blankets layered over each other. Board games she found in the loft are stacked high in the chair next to the couch. They’re a mixture of generations: some she received as Christmas and birthday gifts, and others that have been around for as long as she can remember—favorites among her family, especially her parents. Maybe the guys will remember them too.

The shelf behind the couch is empty except for the projector. She had to find an extension cord to plug in her computer and leave it safely on the couch (she may have tried to balance it on the shelf with the projector, but one close call was enough to look into alternatives).

After the door is latched behind her, she joins them in the middle of the room, playing with her hands. “I’m sorry about yesterday,” she begins. “I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”

Alex shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, Julie. You didn’t know.”

“But I do now. And… I don’t know how you guys feel about the holidays, but I hope you give this one a chance?” She steps around them, kicking off her shoes as she goes. “It’s not an official holiday, but over the years, it’s become more popular.” She steps onto the couch and looks back at them with a smile. “It’s called Friendsgiving. Families suck sometimes, and you can’t choose them. But, you can choose your friends.” Standing on her tiptoes, she flips the projector on. A light beam shoots past them and shines across the bed sheets. Two was a better decision than one, it seems. The picture has plenty of room to spread out. Perhaps not the best quality, but at least they can watch it full screen.

“I have all of the Star Wars movies downloaded,” she continues, stepping off the couch, “along with a few others if we get sick of the marathon. I don’t know if you like board games, but I found a few in the loft?” She points at the stack.

“You did… all of this for us?” Reggie asks, almost breathlessly.

“Well, yeah. And Luke helped.” Luke smiles when the guys look at him. Julie adds, “I don’t think I could’ve guessed your movie taste without him.”

“There are some good ones on there,” he promises.

Alex huffs a laugh. He spins in a slow circle, taking in everything. “This is awesome, Jules.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, but… You’re wrong about one thing.” She freezes. Luke and Reggie look back at him. Alex shoves his hands in his jacket pockets, looking over each of them, the corner of his mouth curved in a smile. “You can choose the family that matters.”

“And it’s us?” Luke teases. “We’re your Chosen Ones?” As he and Reggie share a laugh, Alex walks away from them.

“C’mere,” he says with a laugh, pulling Julie into a hug. Alex gives some of the best hugs. He’s tall enough to tuck her head under his chin, and she can bury her face in his chest.

Luke and Reggie must move in, because Alex walks them near the couch. “No, no, she’s my Chosen One. You two go away.”

“We were here first,” Luke whines.

“But it’s Julie,” Reggie reasons. He shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips.

Luke nods. “Good point.”

“Still, you’re crazy if you think I’m just going to ignore group hug potential,” Reggie says, lunging for them. Alex pretends to try getting away, but he actually opens an arm for him, and now Julie’s squished between them. Not even a second later, Luke’s on her other side. They’re a mess of laughter until someone missteps. They fall in slow motion, it seems. Julie rolls off of Alex’s chest and into the arms of Luke, who hugs her to his chest immediately.

“Good thing Julie has all of the pillows of the universe here,” Alex jokes.

“Oh yeah, I called in every favor. They asked how many I wanted. I said yes.”

Reggie pushes himself up. He squints at the stack of board games. “No way! You have Candyland?”

Luke chuckles in her ear. “Are those Christmas lights?”

“I improvised.”

“I like it.”

Alex is looking at them. “Me too.”

Julie grins. “Thanks, guys.”

“Reg, Candyland or Star Wars?” Alex asks, rolling onto his stomach.

Reggie pauses, board game in his hands. “Can we… We can do both!”

Julie laughs out loud.

After a few minutes of clearing away the pillows (“Oh good, I thought we’d never see that rug again.”), setting up the game, and playing the movie, they’re ready: Candyland and Star Wars. Not how she ever imagined spending the day before Thanksgiving.

“Hey,” Julie says as she draws a card. It’s green. She looks up at them, smiling. “I love you guys, you know?”

They each share looks, grinning at one another. To her left, Luke draws next. “We know, Julie,” he says, moving his character forward. When he meets her eye, he tell her, “We love you, too.”

“Now, keep that in mind when I completely destroy all of you in these games,” Reggie warns.

Julie raises a challenging eyebrow.

“Bring it.”

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 1

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 1: Last night Boris called it, today we’re doing it. I had started working from home (wfh) yesterday as had most people at my work (RCI)..last week I had been preparing laptops as fast as poss for everyone. Even just today, the idea of going into work seems alien and dangerous. Now lockdown (ld) means that it would soon be illegal to do so unless utterly necessary.

Online, FaceBook (fb) especially, is awash with reaction…a lot of calling out people who are out and about in greater numbers than 2, which is against ld rules.

Day 2: Just trying to let work occupy my thoughts and time which is easy enough ‘cos everyone I support (IT engineer) is new to wfh and is having teething problems with all the new laptops. Meanwhile, I keep abreast of comings and goings online…actually socially interacting more than I might otherwise, weirdly

Day 3: Highlight of the day is an online quiz organised by a chap called Jay Flynn on fb…a bunch of us took it as individuals while chatting on Messenger while Jay streamed quiz over fb live and YouTube. It was a good crack and I had two cans of Coors Light which got me pissed!

Day 4: Work is still mad - so many people with IT issues wfh…it’s challenging trying resolve all these probelms remotely but I am rising to it. I actually enjoy it. It satisfies my want for problem-solving.

The ld is in full swing but it’s very early days. The news is dominated, obviously, by Covid-19 and the ever changing stats of infections and deaths. Today, for example, the USA took over, from China, as the country with the most infections. I know there will be an end to all this and I am determined to be there, going out, getting pissed down the pub, gigging, shaking hands with my mates, hugging anyone and everyone who’ll let me - it’ll be a proper party. But I am filled with a dread that it’s going to be a fucking long time coming.

This evening was spent virtually with Foggy, Ham and Andy P…doing a quiz - a rehearsal for Foggy in the hope of doing one to a wider audience next week. It was good fun and great to have a few beers chatting with everyone, Later I video called Fog and we drank ‘til gone midnight, putting the world to rights. I was well pissed.

Day 5: First non-work day of the ld. Housework, daily walk, out for supplies (drop a script order off…queuing outside boots for 15 minues!, bread, baccy and booze). This evening, I’m listening to the next album in NME list of 1985 albums I’m working through - Grace Jones Slave to the Rhythm…fucking pain in the arse ‘cos it’s not on Spotify so I am searching for each song, in order, on YouTube. Plus eating and drinking, of course. Quick video chat with karen and Grace, Dan in the background. I wanted a tin of kidney beans for chilli but Karen hasn’t got one ffs. Burger it is. They are all playing scrabble - I’d love to join in…

Day 6: A quiet day…housework, cooking, daily walk. Highlight was a half hour chinwag with dad who, as I would expect, despite his 84 years, is coping and doing just fine. Most other people with a dad that age would have, on top of their own concerns, something more to worry about during this crisis….for me, it feels like I’ve got someone to turn to, should I need to.

Day 7: Work is starting to feel more routine but it’s a long way off being in the office, which is never routine anyway. That may seem surprising since I do IT support but it’s a varied role, especially at the modern dinosaur of an organisation that is RCI. I try to be as disciplined as possible but I miss not dressing for work, not driving to work, not needing to actually prepare lunch (until lunchtime). I don’t actually need to shower every morning. I don’t think I have to ordinarily but do because I’m mixing with others in the office. I certainly don;t need to now. I only mix with me, so showering becomes a chore but I’m doing it every other morning in the name of the aforementioned discipline. I am worried how long RCI can keep going before laying staff off. I dread being out of work full stop, let alone during this ld, or even thereafter. I think the economies of the world will need time to recover so finding work will be tough à la 2008. I think, if lay-offs were to occur, I’d be in real danger. Last in first out and all that. But, I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it.

Day 8: At work there was a large online meeting whereby the MD told us that RCI are going to furlough some staff. The UK, and Ireland staff will be consulted this coming Thursday and Friday (it’s Tuesday today). I shall be reading up on what the furlough arrangements are in the UK due to Covid-19. I know the government have set aside some money, I need to know what I might get paid and how to claim it. In the past, when I’ve been out of work, I’ve been entitled to jack shit other than JSA, This time around, should I be laid off as I expect, I might not have to eat into my savings, fingers crossed. Meanwhile, I have decided to knock up another blog with a photo of myself each day of the ld (from now on) - it’s a sister to this diary.

Day 9: Actually typing this on day 10. Yesterday was a strange day as I contemplate being furloughed (hope for the best, expect the worst)…I’d be paid 80% of my wage according to what the government have said to assist in the Covid-19 crisis…so, were that to be true, I’d be OK money-wise, although still earning way less than I want to prepared for retirement (I am currently still waiting for feedback on a pay increase request I put in at work last year!) I’m more worried about how I would fill my day if I wasn’t working. So, that being said, I flopped and moped about all yesterday evening after my daily walk and, without achieving much at all, didn’t find time to write this entry on the right day…so maybe I can fill my days without much effort!

Day 10: I was furloughed today, starting 5pm tomorrow (Friday 3rd April) and it’s fucked me off. I know it’s not personal but, actually, do I? They’re cutting back the Kettering Desktop team by one, redacted It seems obvious to do this by the ‘last in, first out’ maxim but what about money? others are on more than me (redacted). What about offering it voluntarily - others might go for 80% pay for fuck all - others have family at home to occupy the day  (redacted) . A little bit of me thinks it might be preferable furlough me  (redacted) …others seems to be a favourite and that annoys me. It annoys me because I think I shoot myself in the foot too often. I’m too vocal about some of the (redacted) decisions and practices at work, plus other reasons that I know but can’t be bothered to type. But, my point, is I don’t play the politically correct, corporate game and therefore forget to look out for my own best interests. FUCK.

So, as of tomorrrow evening, I’ve no work to do. The challenge will be to find a way to occupy my day. I’ve already registered to volunteer for the NHS during the ld…let’s see what becomes of that. And I’ve signed up for web development course. I’m going to get fucking pissed this w/e, starting early tomorrow evening.

Day 11: It’s day 12 as I am writing this entry…that might tell any reader, and remind me, that I did as I promised and got pretty drunk. I spent the day geting my work affairs in order i.e. clearing down support tickets assigned to me. I did a good job, nothing left to handover to the remaining team (Jim, Cristina and Mark) and onky one ticket put into the assigned pool. Some nice converstaions were had with associates, many of whom are, too, being furloughed. Nice words were said and Jim and Mark both were supportive in conversations and messages - they both know I don’t wnat this and, I think, they are both relieved it’s not happening to them. 5 pm arrives and I shutdown my work laptop for the last time for at least 12 weeks. After my daily walk, I video chat with Karen, crack open a beer, make Chinese chicken curry (fucking loads, fucking tasty), finish watching The National Theatre stream of One Man, Two Guvnors (really good, see twoinchreview) and the caught up with, and talked bollocks with Andy, Marc and Ham - we tried getting Rog in on it, no dice. I then watched The Heat (I fucking love that film), ate some more, smoked several single-skinners, drank, in total, three cans, seven bottles. I went to bed shortly after 4am. I felt resigned to my furlough and pleasantly wasted.

Day 12: A subdued day…didn’t wake until gone 1:30pm. Jaded but not really suffering. Mooched about, social media, listening to music, watching telly, farting about on the iPad. My daily walk, over the last fews days, has taken a twist…I am trying to run parts of it. Mainly short distances, 80-100m (I estimate) three, maybe four times. It’s fucking knackering me out. I used to run everywhere when I was a teen. Attempting to run now just makes me feel fucking old. Well, I am, so that’s about right.

Day 13: Another day like yesterday except I got up at 10:30 and didn’t feel jaded. The subdued feeling comes from the realsiation that the ld isn’t being treated as seriously as it should be across the board. The news and even posts by locals on FB (Oundle chatter group) suggest groups still meeting up. The weather this w/e has been a factor - 17°c today. I think a total ld will be enforced soon and that would fuck me off. My daily walk is pretty essential for me nowadays not least for the ‘good for your soul’ benefits that dad has always mentioned. Even today’s walk saw a car parked at the gates to the field on the way to Ashton and people on a blanket soaking up the sun, dogs off their leads and people (looked like a family) playing footy on South Road field. Individually they are not presenting any danger, what with the fact they are either living together or far away from others. But they are flaunting the rules and the more that happens the less likely they’ll carry on getting away with it, which will mean total ld for all! I finished the 50 1985 albums today. It mostly confirms to me that I only listened to two albums released that year (Kate Bush, The Waterboys) any other vinyl I spun would have already been in my collection pre-85.

The sausage casserole I made for tea was fucking lush - 4 birdeye chillies. I saw and spoke with Dan and Grace this morning, they were just coming back from a walk. I am pleased to fuck they are together and sorted out the issues they had earlier this year.

Day 14: My first day proper of furlough. Finished my two inch review of the NME 50 albums. Long chat with Rita, quick one with dad. Messaged Sam about Romiley’s present - she’s 10 on the 9th April (Thursday) - ordered some Lego thing from Amazon. Turned the car engine over (reminded myself the driver-side wing mirror is fucked) and moved it to another spot in the Co-op car park - bumped into Matt T. He’s struggling - no work coming in and he can’t claim any of the money on offer ‘cos he’s not being totally honest about his circumstances - made me realise I’m not that bad off…..but I feel depressed about it all, especially with the news that Boris has gone into intensive care.

Day 15: I began a diploma (?) course on web design with Shaw Academy (it was free). They have actual classes (which are recorded) which you schedule yourself. The first one was, I have to say, really interesting - I look forward to continuing. On my walk today, I saw a car parked at the gate to the field at the bottom of Riverside Close; it was branded with Cunninghams Estate Agent with a 01536 number. I am pretty sure I saw the driver walking her dog (unleashed) on the field. I took a photo and rang the number. Yes, I ratted the culprit out…fucking annoys me that I had to. Better than reporting to the police, all round. Hopefully her work will put a stop to her doing it and, the more people that adhere to the rules without the police getting wind of infractions, the more likely we’ll be able to continue to exercise away from home.

Day16: More online learning including checking out other sites (pluralsight) for more learning opportunities. Coded my first web page, basic but mine, in HTML and CSS. A few beers & smokes and watching White Boy Rick in the evening, interspersed with the usual social media / messaging shit, incuding this entry, of course!

Day 17: Typing this on Day 18. After a few beers last night while chatting with Fog (twice - the first chat ended with him ‘having’ to go to bed. Later, I noticed he was commenting on FB, so I video called him…round two of chatting!). I got quite fucking pissed. Bed around 4am.

Day18: Up at 1pm. Long walk today, 7 km. Anything over 40 minutes, I’ve realised, results in a hypo.

Day19: Well, having gone to bed at gone 5am I got up at nearly 1pm feeling far better than I should have. Breakfast followed by a walk, spoke with Karen (mowing her front lawn) and Dan. He and Grace have split up which is sad news but he seems OK. Went shopping (milk and sweets) and ended up with a shit load of booze, the post of which on FB was quite amusing. Homemade burgers for tea (they’re in the fridge as I type) - gonna try and make Five Guys…

Day20: The Five Guys burger attempt didn’t go as well as I wanted. I think less than 5% fat mince just doesn’t bind that well. However, I managed to get something resembling a burger into the bun and, with cheese, hot sauce and jalapeños, it was tasty enough. More of the same when I finish typing this entry. Strange Easter Day today, as I knew it would be. The best thing I saw today was a video Tom posted on FB of him and Molly doing a mashup of Starsailor and George Michael - Tom on guitar singing the former, Molly singing the latter. It was fucking fantatstic.

Day 21: Easter Monday. Surreal…it’s feeling very surreal now, this lockdown.

Two things that bother me right now:

i) The political point scoring on FB. I get it, I really do…people like to bring up ‘obvious’ failings in the party’s mistakes. For example, Marc posting comparisons between UK and Germany’s figures of cases and deaths due to Covid-19. I doesn’t make impressive reading for the government and it should be held accountable. But not fucking now!

ii) Will they introduce rotational furloughing at RCI? It’s only been a week, 11 to go. And, it bothers me that I was furloughed rather than Mark. Pathetic of me, I know! But, should it last the 12 week stretch, I want to go back to work and let someone else have the chance to have fuck all to do all day! That being said, I’m still learning web design through Shaw Academy. Even today, bank holiday, I revised Lesson 2.

Day22: Nice catchup with Dad today - he and Rita seem to be more than OK with lockdown. I actually cannot wait until we can meet up at The Farmers again!

Day 23: While I had a Corvee engineer come to the house today to do a gas safety check (I waited upstairs while he was here, self-isolation and all that), and had the fourth online web design lesson, had a trip to Boots to pick up insulin, got milk from Tesco’s, saw American Rachel and had a chat (while we both queued to get into Tesco’s) and had a very nice walk along a different route from the norm, in the pleasant sunshine and watched Contagion on Netflix - all today - I AM STILL BORED AS FUCK!

Day 24: I had plans for today - revise the last two lessons of Shaw Academy’s web design course, investigate a ethical hacking course, do some washing, clean upstairs (or at least the bathroom) plus all the usual stuff. Then, as a reward, have some beers. Well, guess what. I am not having beers this evening. I managed the laundry. Plus I manged to subtitle my YouTube perfect snabby video (something I have been meaning to do for a while, but, come on!) It took me fucking ages. But it is funny! So, a fucking far from fruitful day. Plus the government announced at least 3 more weeks of lockdown. There’ll be loads more, I reckon. Tomorrow…I promise I’ll be better tomorrow…

Day 25: I did do better! Firstly the Corveee man fucked the boiler which I only noticed late yesterday but still managed to get sorted today. I did some excellent revision and learning of HTML (tags) and CSS. I cleaned the bathroom and hall. And I discovered TikTok (fucking excellent dancing and funny vids) plus discovered a new FaceBook word game (Sam sent me an invite) called WordBlitz and I am pretty good. Having beers now (nearly 11pm).

Day 26: Today I found myself calling 111. I had a pain in my side last night, I thought it might be constipation! That not being the case (!), today I went to 111.nhs.uk and, following their questions, it recommended I seek out a GP straightaway. Once I let the website know that is not possible, it directed me to visit walk in centres. I spoke with Karen thereafter - for advice about whether it’s a good idea to enter such an establishment - I really don’t want to increase me chances of catching the Covid-19 virus. Karen recommended ringing 111 since the website does not take into account my diabetes (so bloody sensible a suggestion!)

After ringing and answering many questions, the lady said she’d get an OOHS GP to call. The doctor called soon after and it seems most likely I have a grumbling appendix (chronic appendicitis) and to ring again (well, 999) if the pain becomes unbearable.

I now have a bag at the ready for hospital which I really hope I don’t have to use. Today, I  have, therefore, done fuck all - not even a walk - but I am having a beer now (midnight) and shall attempt to sleep as well as possible and hope this pain subsides naturally…

It occurs to me that I turn to Karen when things become flumoxing - my excuse, this time, is she works at the surgery but that was mere convenience.

Day 27: My ‘appendicitis pain was the same when I woke up (10:20) but no worse. I managed to change bed clothes and clean my bedroom but didn’t risk a walk (in case something drastic happens when I’m in a fucking field).

People’s responses and questions online have been heartening (Rachel Harris, Susie Grange, Bethan, Jo, Tracey Weber, Debbie De Prisco and, not least Dan). As the day progresses, I feel better but not right. I spoke with Dad about it and, as I told him, I shall ring Oundle GP tomorrow. Meanwhile, I did Sam Clew’s FB Live quiz, which was good, and am now having a beer or two.

Day 28: The pain in my side has definitley diminished. I called the Oundle surgery today to talk about what treatment I should have for ‘grumbling appendicitis’. The reseptionist organised a call back from a GP - Dr. Cash. Basically, he said he didn’t believe the condition existed, that acute appendicitis doesn’t happen after the age of 35, and ‘his gut felling’ is it will all just clear up.

I shall seek a more sensible diagnosis after lockdown and hope it doesn’t flare up again before then.

Day 29: I sent an email to the team at work today (Jim, Mark, Cristina and Sueanne). I hadn’t heard from them and I wanted to check in and, also, make a point that I will be posing the ‘rotational furlough’ question to HR at some point. It was as I wrote the email that I realised it’s only been two weeks and two days of furlough, and that includes Easter! Seems so much fucking longer. Anyway, everyone replied and it was good to hear from them….Mark came off his bike and broke ribs and collarbone! Lesson 5 of the Web Design course with Shaw Academy. It’s becoming apparent that, if you don’t pay for the course ‘toolkit’ it’s all rather patchy! The instructor dives into lines of code (HTML, CSS and Java) with no explanation….I feel like I did on the ifrst lesson of further maths ate Stamford School! I shall soldier on and beef up the missing parts with W3Schools (a great website and learning aid for coding). Two quick points. I am no longer running any part of my daily walk; hurts too much. I am addicted to Wordblitz and TikTok. Day30: I am writing this on day 31, I just forgot yesterday! It was a non eventful day. I did watch Midnight Run (again!) and had a couple of midweek beers though.

[walkerismychoice]

No One’s Fault

Book: The Elementalists

Pairing: Beckett X MC (Zoe Flynn)

Raiting: PG-13 with some Mature/Suggestive language at the end

A/N: This fic re-tells Chapter 11 through Beckett’s eyes. All dialogue is copied from the chapter. As per the chapter, Beckett is talking to Atlas in the beginning, but she is named as Zoe due to it being Beckett’s point of view and not knowing otherwise.

Word Count: 2934

Tag List: @tabithacarlisle @ritachacha @thatspicegirlssong @darley1101 @flyawayboo@confessionsofabrokegirl@flowerpowell @itsstillnotwhatyouthink@jimmypagesandbrianmayshair@tmarie82 @choiceswreckedme @enmchoices @regina-and-happiness @christopher-powell @blackcatkita@debramcg1106 @lizeboredom @boneandfur 

“Well, that’s it. Zoe’s not anywhere on campus... That mirror must have taken her somewhere else entirely,” Shreya says with a look of defeat on her face.

“The way the glass shattered, I’ve never seen anything like it... “ Beckett racks his brain, searching for some sort of clue. He is trying, and failing miserably to not let his feelings about Zoe get in the way, but he's worried sick, and it is affecting his ability to think rationally. 

They walk back into Zoe and Shreya’s suite, hoping to sit down and come up with a plan to find answers, but as they walk in she’s there. He’s so relieved to see her, but still something seems off. 

Shreya’s jaw drops. “Zoe?! Where have you been? We’ve been looking everywhere!

Zoe freezes, momentarily speechless. “Y-Yes, I am Zoe. Your friend.” An awkward smile crosses her face.

“What happened to your hair?” Zeph asks in disbelief. Her hair is shorter now and white. Nothing like the flowing brown waves Beckett ran his fingers through not long before. 

“Uh, ha! That’s so funny... you. That’s just like..you. Always cracking jokes,” Zoe replies almost nervously, and it’s so unlike her. Beckett could see this type of behavior coming from himself, being socially awkward and afraid of saying the wrong thing, but not Zoe. Zoe always seems so confident and self-assured. 

Zeph chuckles. “Well she recognizes my comedic genius, so she must be alright.” 

Beckett stops himself from rolling his eyes at Zeph. If he didn’t like the others, especially Zoe, so much, he wouldn’t hang around to hear more cutting remarks from Zeph. “Never mind all that. Where have you been? The mirror room was completely destroyed and you were just gone!”

“Yeah, where did that mirror take you?” Shreya questions. “We looked all over campus!”

“It... It took me to Penn Square. I don’t know what went wrong, but it dropped me right into a dumpster. I tried the spell to clean off, but something went wrong and it turned my hair all white. Guess I’ll have to have Swan fix it tomorrow.”

Okay, that seems plausible, Beckett thinks, and he knows it’s an easy fix. “Oh, no need. That’s just a simple transmutation spell. I can quite easily--

“You touch my hair, my hair, and I’ll punch the eyebrows off of your face,” Zoe snarls and the room is stunned into silence. Beckett knows he wasn’t initially warm and friendly with her, but he’s opened up to her more now than anyone else here. They’ve kissed, more than once, and she seemed really into him. Either he totally misread the situation, or something happened to her when she went through that mirror. 

Zoe's faces softens slightly. “Sorry, I’ve had a really rough day. I’d like to just go to bed.”

Shreya frowns. “Oh. Well, of course. We’re just..glad your’e safe. I guess we should all go to bed, hm?”

“Thanks. All of you.” Zoe’s voice is somber and somewhat hollow, and Beckett just can’t shake the pit in his stomach. 

Everyone starts to leave, but Beckett turns back. He looks her over, and he’s certain she doesn’t fail to notice the concern on his face. He places a hand on her shoulder and she goes stiff. “You..." He wants to wrap her in his arms - for her to melt into his touch - and to tell her how happy he is that she’s back, but something stops him. “You have no idea how troublesome you are!” His tone comes out harsher than he means it to.

“Hey!” Zoe snaps back, and he doesn't completely fault her for it.

"Just going and disappearing like that! Worrying all your friends! It was completely thoughtless of you and...and" He relaxes his shoulders and exhales deeply. "And I'm really glad you're okay." He wants to say more, but coming from him she should know what this admission means. He pulls her in for a hug and she doesn't sink into him like he'd hoped, but he reasons she's been through quite the trauma, and he would probably be just as on edge himself.

"Thanks." Is all she says before he releases her an short time later. Beckett wants to talk more and make sure she's really okay. He opens his mouth to ask, but then thinks better of it and stalks away, still with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Beckett gets halfway down the hallway before he realizes he can't leave Zoe like this. He turns back knocks on the door to the suite's common room but nobody hears him. He bangs harder to ensure the sound will carry. Thankfully it's Zoe, and, not Shreya who answers the door.

"Beckett?"

"Hello. Hi. It's...me again." Idiot obviously she knows it's you.

"I can see that." Zoe replies coolly, but there's a hint of a smile on her face.

She's already seems much warmer and at ease than she was just a minute ago, and it finally dawns on him that her hair is back to its normal color and length. "You fixed your hair."

"Yeah...it just...turned itself back?" He's not quite sure if she's telling him or asking him. Either way, with the change back to her typical appearance, her spirit seems to have returned as well.

Zoe looks him up and down, and he fidgets with his hands in his pockets, suddenly self-conscious of his rumpled appearance. "I'm... I just wanted to make sure you were okay, I..." He decides their's no sense in holding back and trying to play strong anymore. "I'm at a loss here. When you vanished, I felt like I should have been able to do more, and I couldn't, and I-" He shakily runs a hand through his hair, letting the full weight of his worry hit him for the first time.

"Beckett, it's no ones fault." Zoe tries to reassure him. "And I'm fine, see?"

He let's out a weak laugh, trying to convince himself just as much as Zoe that he knows everything is fine now, but he doubts it is convincing. "I know it's late, but...do you want to talk? Just for a little while. I know you said you're okay, but I feel like I have to make sure."

Zoe sighs. "Now really isn't the best time."

Disappointed, Beckett is about to give up and go back to his room when he notices the cuts and scrapes all over Zoe's exposed skin. "You're hurt. I can help with that! I know a spell that'll remove the shards of glass quite painlessly." He's desperate to do something to help, as well as to find any reason to spend more time with her.

"It's fine," she tries to play it off like it's less painful than he fears it is. "I'll just go to the nurse tomorrow.

"But...I can help you." He pleads. "I have to help. Please, Zoe." He can't forgive himself for failing to protect her in the first place and will do any to make up for it.

"Sure, I could use the help. Let's talk out here, okay?"

He's relieved when she agrees and tries not to be disappointed that she didn't invite him into her room. She's hurt and probably shaken up, so he tells himself it would be selfish to expect anything from her, yet he still can’t seem to turn off his attraction to her any time she comes in close proximity.

Beckett follows her to the couch and sits down. Acutely aware of his disheveled appearance, he attempt to smooth out his blazer and laughs at how pitiful he must look. “I must look like a complete mess. Bet it’s pretty funny seeing always-put-together Beckett Harrington off his game."

"Beckett, you look just fine. Maybe a little sadder than normal. A little more rumpled. But I wouldn't say you are falling apart or anything," Zoe assures him. Not cute, hot, or any of the other compliments she normally gives that make him blush, just fine and not falling apart. It's better than her saying he looks awful he supposes, but maybe she's just being nice. "And it's anything but funny to me," she continues. "More... depressing than anything really."

"Gee, thanks," he quips. So he looks rumpled and sad and it's making her depressed. Not quite the effect he'd hoped his presence would have on her.

"Sorry. I just mean... it's hard seeing you so upset!" She reaches over and takes his had in hers.

Beckett looks up to meet her gaze, and it stirs something inside him, causing him to look away sheepishly. He doesn't know if he'll ever get over the way she looks at him.

I'm actually really surprised that you were so concerned considering how much you tried to hate me," she says with a smirk.

He knows she must be teasing after all the conversations they've had since, but he feels the need to reassure her anyhow. "I don't hate you, Zoe." He finds the courage to meet her gaze directly without backing down and squeezes her hand tightly. "I admit that when I first heard about you I was jealous. More so when I realized your formal training was quite lacking. And I lashed out. I worked so hard to be the best and it didn't matter. I thought with you attending, I'd have no chance of being top of the class."

Zoe' smile falters. "Beckett, I never meant to make you feel that way."

Again he's trying to cheer her up, and he fears he's only making things worse. "Of course you didn't... You were my first friend here. You took me in when no one else would. And the thought of something happening to you when I could have stopped it..."

"What do you mean you could have stopped it?" Zoe interjects.

Maybe he's said too much. "I...I've been practicing some advanced magicks. There had to have been some spell, some part of my knowledge that I could have used. But when it comes down to it, I just stood there, weak." He balls his fist and feels heat rise in his face, angry with himself for not rising to the occasion when it counted the most.

"Beckett..." He can see his own torment reflected on her face before she closes the distance between them and hugs his shoulders tightly. He shivers beneath her touch, his face nestled into the crook of her neck. "There's nothing wrong with freezing up. It all happened so fast. You would have needed the quickest reflexes on earth."

Beckett's heart flutters in his chest as he snakes an arm around Zoe's waist, holding her close, inhaling the smell of her floral shampoo before looking back up at her. "How do you know I don't have them? I am vastly superior to the majority of the world's population." He tries to keep a straight face until she laughs and then he cracks too.

"Aaaand, there's the Beckett Harrington I know." Zoe pulls back to look in his eyes and he wonders if she notices that he's teared up. "You can't blame this all on yourself," she tells him, indicating he's not hiding anything from her. "First of all, there's no way you could have known what would happen. And second of all, we were all there. No one else had any idea what to do either.

Beckett frowns and sighs. No one else studies as hard as he does. No one else is in love with her like he is. He thinks these things but doesn't dare say them. "Still. I said I'd help, so at least let me take a look at you."

Zoe spins around in a circle to humor him. "See? Totally fine." Beckett gently lifts her arm and plucks a piece of glass from the skin near her elbow. Zoe's eyes go wide. "Wow, I didn't even realize that was there."

"Probably because of the adrenaline," he explains. "It looks as though that's the worst of it, thank goodness." He holds his hand up and it begins to glow a metallic tint, but he's frustrated as it fades away. "Shoot, just give me a second." The glow in his hand flickers intensely, but still nothing happens. "Come on Beckett you worthless-"

"Beckett!" Zoe scolds.

"I'm sorry. I've...I've done this spell a million times. I just cant... it won't." He averts her gaze, his hands balling up against his knees, and he's feeling nothing but weak and useless, unable to help Zoe in any way.

"It's okay. Don't be so hard on yourself. You can do this. I know you can. Just think about me. You want to help me, right? So stop thinking about your own faults, and focus on that.”

Shit. He's been so worried about needing to be the hero, he's letting his own insecurities get in the way of helping Zoe. "I didn't mean to make it all about me, I-"

"You're doing it again," Zoe points out. He cracks a smile and shakes his head but says no more "There you go, you're starting to relax. Take a deep breath," she instructs.

"Fine, fine." He raises his hands again, and they tremble with nerves. He inhales deeply and let's it out, his palms glowing warmly. "Now we're getting somewhere." He passes his hands over her arms and takes satisfaction as the pieces of glass slip out, Zoe not showing the slightest hint of pain. "There. You'll have to go to the nurse to get a salve for the cuts, but that takes care of the glass at least."

Zoe smiles. "Thanks, Doc. So I'm good as new?"

"I don't know, maybe I should double check to make sure," he suggests half serious, and half just looking for an excuse to get close to her, his success giving him a newfound confidence. He inspects her arms up and down, lightly tracing her veins as goosebumps form beneath his touch. "Hmm, no serious damage there." Seeing the way his touch affects her, he grows bolder. He circles around and leans his head in close, Zoe twitching as his breath tickles the hair at the base of her neck. He trails a finger slowly down her spine.

"Beckett..." She breathes.

"What? Does it hurt?" He wonders if he's found a sore spot or if it's maybe something else.

"N- No..." she stammers and he knows he's got her where he wants her now.

"Look, there's a little bruise right..here." He grazes his lips on the side of her neck to kiss it and make it better. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her tight to him. He swears her knees wobble, and had he not been holding her, she’d be falling straight too the floor. If only they were in the privacy of Zoe's room. "Better?" He asks with a sly grin.

"I'm certainly not complaining." She turns around, and his satisfied smirk transforms into a genuine smile, relieved to have Zoe safe and happy in his arms. "What about you though? Feeling better?"

Her words are a reminder of all the ways he failed her tonight, and he keeps the smile painted on his face despite his disappointment in himself. "Yeah, yeah, I think so." He tries to remind himself that all is good now. He glances over to the clock on the mantel and his eyes go wide. "Oh, wow. It's so late. I'm such a dolt. You must be exhausted, and here I am complaining about my feelings."

It's fine, really. After everything that's happened today, I'm not sure I would have been able to fall asleep anyway. But if you want to make it up to me, why don't you give me a goodnight kiss?" Zoe asks coyly. "It will help me sleep better."

"I don't need a reason to kiss you, Zoe." The truth is he'd kiss her anytime, anywhere, so long as she asked. His smiles down at Zoe, his thumb grazing her cheek before he leans in to press his lips to hers. He hugs her tightly to his chest, never wishing to risk letting her out of his grasp again for fear she'll disappear.

"Zoe..." he whimpers before tracing his tongue along her lower lip. She responds to his nonverbal request, parting her lips to grant him access to her sweet mouth. He waits until he's completely out of breath to break the kiss.

Zoe laughs as they both gasp for air. "Great, now I'll never get to sleep."

"I'm sure after the day you've had, you'll have no trouble," he says and is thankful for not blurting out his true thoughts - that he's imagining she'll slip into bed and touch herself while she's thinking of him. He's also grateful that his cheeks are already flushed with arousal, for he'd certainly be blushing otherwise at the idea of it and knowing he'll be doing the same back in his room while thinking of her.

Beckett cups her cheeks, eyes lingering on her face until he presses a kiss to her forehead and finally, reluctantly lets her go. Seconds pass and neither one makes a move, the only sound the crackling fireplace. "I'll let you get your rest, but... I want to tell you that.." He hesitates, feeling vulnerable about letting the true depth of his feelings be known. "I'm just... I'm really happy you're still here."

Her soft expression mirrors his own. "Yeah, me too." And with that Beckett takes his leave, relieved and content that she feels the same.

[kainosite]

Les Misérables 2018, Episode 3

Les Mis fandom: Andrew Davies is a scoundrel.  What is he?

Me: ... Scoundwel.

The Good:

• I can’t believe the BBC actually filmed the “Now the people of this town can see you for what you really are” scene of a thousand Valvert fanfics.  They know what the people want.

• The Thénardiers are still fantastic.  Somehow the BBC has��achieved the impossible feat of portraying them as loathsome abusers whom you hate with every fiber of your being, while simultaneously making them the fun comic relief you’re sort of rooting for in their capacity as the wacky crime duo.  On Christmas Eve I wanted the Seargeant of Waterloo to burn to the ground with everyone inside it, except for Cosette who was out getting water, Éponine and Azelma who were playing on the swings and Gavroche who was out back playing with Chou Chou or something.  I still grinned when Madame Thénardier cheerily reminded her husband to bring the pistol the next morning.  Striking this balance is a truly impressive achievement that I’ve only seen equalled by the Dallas production of the musical.

Their family dynamics are also coming across very well, sometimes through very subtle touches.  The differential treatment of Éponine and Azelma vs. Cosette and the way the Thénardier girls have been trained by all the adults around them to see Cosette’s abuse as a hilarious game, Gavroche being conscripted to fill Cosette’s role as household drudge once Valjean takes her, Mme. T slipping a bill out of Thénardier’s stash once he goes after Valjean – it’s all really good.

Their reactions to Valjean were good too.  Mme. Thénardier was thoroughly unimpressed with this roughly dressed man she’d decided was a hobo and only reacted with hostility when he was kind to her little whipping girl, but Thénardier as the criminal mastermind of the outfit decided the moment he noticed Valjean paying inordinate attention to Cosette that he must be a pedophile and they’d stumbled upon a lucrative financial opportunity.  I know some people don’t like this change, but honestly it makes a ton of sense.  Valjean’s interest in Cosette is strange, and considering the usual clientele of the inn cheer whenever Mme. T hits the kid with the strap, the Thénardiers aren’t used to seeing other people regard her plight with compassion.  Unlike in the Brick, this Cosette is a very pretty child, something discernible even beneath the dirt.  And it’s Thénardier, so of course he thinks the worst.  Valjean doesn’t volunteer that he’s representing Fantine (perhaps in this universe where he knows Javert is so fixated on him, he’s worried that would make him too easy to trace?), so really, what else is Thénardier meant to think?

• There are some priceless interactions between the protagonists and Thénardier: when he’s trying to haggle and Valjean keeps ignoring him and just repeating “How much?”; Javert’s baffled “Nothing!” when he asks Javert what Javert is planning to do for him.

• Javert and Gavroche’s preliminary encounter over the coffee cup was a nice, subtle touch.

• A+ hair analogy between Fantine last week and Valjean this week.  A+ removal of the godawful ponytail.  That prison barber in Toulon deserves the Légion d'Honneur.

• I’m enjoying Javert’s meteoric rise at the Prefecture and I love Rivette.  “But Kainosite, you love every long-suffering lieutenant.”  Yes, what’s your point?  Javert deserves a long-suffering lieutenant and so do I.  Although it’s hilarious how much Oyelowovert is Fanfic Javert, in his relationship with his subordinates as much as in everything else.

I also enjoyed Javert’s phrenology skull, which I hope he sometimes monologues at Hamlet-style.  A black Javert might hesitate a little before going all-in on phrenology, but I do appreciate his commitment to cutting-edge criminology research.

• LMAO at Javert’s fanart commission.

• Valjean and little Cosette are adorable together, and I really appreciate how much time Davies devoted to just depicting them interacting and letting the relationship breathe.  The strength of their bond is going to be very important later on, especially to Valjean, so it’s worthwhile to establish it now.  And they were suuuuper cute.  This adaptation tends to cut out Hugo’s humor sections, so it was nice to get a bit of relief from the grimness with endearing family time.

• I rather like Cosette calling people “nosy bitches”.  I mean, who socialized this kid?  The Thénardiers, that’s who.  It makes her seem more like a real child and less like a perfect little doll designed to reward first Valjean and then Marius for fulfilling their roles as protagonists.

It’s also an early hint at Valjean and Cosette’s unhealthy isolation and codependency.  The principal tenant is actually fulfilling her duty of care here in a society without any proper system for child safeguarding.  Cosette never seems to leave the apartment, certainly not to attend school or to learn a trade.  There’s no family resemblance between herself and her guardian.  (Incidentally, I’m impressed by how much Mailow Defoy really does look like the child of Lily Collins and Johnny Flynn.  All the matching between the kids and their “parents” has been superb.)  They give inconsistent stories about their relationship.  And Cosette is, as previously mentioned, an exceptionally pretty child.  The principal tenant should be worried - she doesn’t want Hector Hulot taking up residence in her building, and this pair are deeply suspicious.  But they can’t perceive her attention as legitimate concern, just as an unwarranted and unwanted intrusion into their little idyl.

• Similarly, Valjean’s early worries that he’s isolating Cosette too much by denying her all contact with the outside world or other children her own age are a nice piece of foreshadowing, as is her blithe answer that the only friends she needs are Valjean and Catherine.  Of course she’s content: she has food and warmth and security and the undivided attention of a loving adult.  To a child whose previous experience of the world has been so traumatic, their isolation must seem like paradise.  But this isn’t healthy and it isn’t sustainable, and the show is flagging that up early.  In many adaptations Valjean’s Cosette Issues seem to come out of nowhere, so it’s great that they’re laying the groundwork here.

• The whole “For a dark hunt, a silent pack” sequence is very well done.  There’s a nice piece of foreshadowing with the lamplighter hoisting up a candle as Valjean and Cosette are coming into Paris.  (Most of the Parisian lamps are nice flickery ones, although you do occasionally see those peculiar white ones we saw in Montreuil.)

I also appreciate Davies cutting Valjean’s canonical “Be quiet or Mme. Thénardier will catch you and take you back” line to Cosette from the Brick, which was an awful thing to say to a traumatized child.

• Things continue to look right.  The courtroom setup was really quite good.

The Meh:

• After watching the episode twice I think I finally understand what was going on with Javert at the trial.

His plan to entrap Valjean is no less incredibly stupid and risky than it was last week, but at least Javert has finally realized this.  He looks increasingly worried as each convict gives his testimony and identifies Champmathieu because they’re getting closer and closer to the end of the trial and Valjean still hasn’t acted.  Unlike Étienne in the 1952 movie, Oyelowovert has already testified and perjured himself, so he has no failsafe – if Valjean refuses to take the bait then Champmathieu is condemned in his place, the real Valjean is protected from legal pursuit forever, Javert’s perjury has real, long-term, perverse consequences, and Javert needs to find a new career.  The shock we see on his face when Valjean finally confesses is relief and the shock of seeing a scenario he must have played out a hundred times in his dreams becoming a reality before his eyes, or possibly a consequence of him coming in his pants, not shock at the revelation that Madeleine is Valjean.

But there are few members of the audience who are keener observers of Javert’s face than I am.  Most of those people are probably in the Valvert Discord chat, and none of them could figure out this scene on their first viewing either.  We should not have to analyze Javert’s microexpressions to determine the answer to a question as fundamental as “Did Javert sincerely believe Champmathieu was Valjean?”

• On the whole the trial was bad but I did appreciate Brevet just yanking out his suspender to show the court.  Although @prudencepaccard​ is gonna be mad it wasn’t checkered.

• The amount of time it takes Valjean to escape from Toulon is really of no great importance to anything.  Maybe this Javert gave them specific instructions to search him with care so his files kept getting confiscated and it took him longer to file through his chains.  We know the Orion incident never happened in this universe, so maybe it took two years for Valjean to spot a good escape opportunity.  Who knows?  Who cares?  It has zero impact on the plot.

People concerned about the extra time Cosette was left languishing with the Thénardiers should direct their complaints to Brick Valjean, who faffed around in Montreuil for a month while her mother lay on her deathbed constantly asking for her, and only decided to go pick her up once he was under arrest and it would obviously be impossible.  Davies’ sins pale in comparison to Hugo’s in this regard.  At least Westjean tried to send someone to retrieve her.

• ‘Rosalie’?  Okay, fine, but I’m not sure why this adaptation feels compelled to give everyone first and last names.  Thénardier could just call her ‘Darling’.

• I know they also abandon Catherine in the Brick, but in the Brick Valjean doesn’t pause in their flight to pack the candlesticks, the objects that are precious to him, and Cosette doesn’t specifically ask about bringing her.  Put the pillow under the blankets to fake out Javert like a normal person and let your child keep the one toy she’s ever had, what the fuck is wrong with you, Valjean?

On the other hand, the doll is made of dead people and it may be possessed, so perhaps this was just responsible parenting.  I’m calling it a draw.

• It’s not that I have any great objections to giving Simplice more screen time or letting the Mother Superior of the Petit-Picpus convent decide to shelter a convict, but there was no particular reason not to use Fauchelevent for the Fauchelevent plotline.  It’s a small instance of a good deed being paid forward that underlines the main theme of the book, as does Simplice’s act of self-sacrifice in lying to Javert to protect Valjean.  All of that has been lost and nothing has been gained in its place.  (Also is Cosette just... “Cosette Valjean” in this adaptation?  “Cosette Thibault”?)

The Bad:

• If Javert perjures himself to trap Valjean that is an incredibly big deal and we should see it.  I accept that this Javert might do it: Oyelowovert cares about his career and about ruining the lives of criminals, not about the rules.  If he can trap Valjean, superb.  If Champmathieu ends up in the galleys because of it, well, he’s a filthy apple thief and he deserves it.  Javert is subverting the course of justice in the service of a greater social justice.  But this monumental deviation from his Brick characterization, this enormously consequential lie, should not occur off-camera, for fuck’s sake!

Also it’s not clear what reason a Javert who is happy to lie under oath would ever have to throw himself into the Seine.

• Why the hell was Valjean so hostile to the other convicts?  He assumes they’ve been paid off, but... by whom, and to what purpose?  By Javert, to entrap him?  We the viewers at least know that can’t be true – Javert only found out about Champmathieu from the Prefecture, after Champmathieu had already been identified as Valjean.  By the public prosecutor at Arras, who is desperate to close the case of a minor highway robbery that happened almost a decade ago on the other side of the country completely outside his jurisdiction?  By the many enemies of Champmathieu the random hobo, who really want to see him go down for a felony?  It makes absolutely no sense.

Possibilities that make more sense: a) the convicts are sincerely mistaken about the appearance of a guy they’ve not seen in eight years, b) they just wanted to get out of Toulon for a month and they’re willing to say anything to do it because Toulon is a hellhole, as the first episode made exceedingly clear, c) they know perfectly well Champmathieu is not Valjean and they’re lying to protect the liberty of their old comrade by condemning a stranger in his place.  The whole dynamic of this scene – Madeleine, the respected mayor and factory owner, who’s been clean and well-fed and safe for years, yelling at these filthy men in their convict uniforms, Chenildieu with some kind of open wound across his forehead, quite possibly a lash mark – is deeply unpleasant.  It makes Valjean look like a complete asshole and sets a sour tone for the whole episode.

• The entire trial is just off.  Valjean’s off-putting and inexplicable hostility to his fellow convicts, Javert’s mystifying facial expressions, the audience who keep laughing at unfunny lines – the scene just doesn’t work, it doesn’t come together.  It was at something of a disadvantage because I came into it having just watched the 1952 trial scene for the previous episode’s review post, which is the best ever adaptation of the Champmathieu trial, and any other version was likely to pale by comparison.  But this one was particularly poor.

• I said last week we’d have to see what the series made of Valjean’s externalization of his emotions.  Well, what it has made is an awful lot of shouting at everyone, starting with the poor convicts and continuing from there, and also an excess of violence.  Valjean charges into the soldiers in Montreuil-sur-Mer and bowls them over, he threatens to knock Thénardier down and then to blow his head off, he gets Thénardier into a headlock and grapples with him.  Even when Westjean is coming into the convent he has to practically break down the doors.  Everything is violent action with him.  It’s OOC to the point where it’s becoming a problem rather than merely a different interpretation of the character.

All this aggression isn’t even effective at making him seem dangerous!  The thing he does in 1978 where he gently removes Javert’s hand from his collar is vastly more intimidating because it showcases his superhuman strength.  He should have just plucked the gun out of Thénardier’s hand like he was taking it away from a child instead of all this undignified scuffling.

• Tumblr, a humble reviewer has failed in accuracy, and I have come to bring this matter to your attention, as is my duty.

I argued last week that Westjean is not a misogynist: he yells at everyone in his vicinity regardless of gender.  Well, you were right and I was wrong.  That menacing lunge he takes towards Victurnien while screaming at her, calling Mme. Thénardier “woman” and shouting at her to bring his supper, the way he bursts in on the nuns at the end – it all adds up to something pretty unpleasant.

• I have never in my life seen an adaptation that makes Fantine’s death so much about Jean Valjean’s manpain.

If you look a 1978, an adaptation that gives if possible negative fucks about Fantine, it still manages to make the confrontation over her deathbed a conversation between three people, in which she has agency and reacts to what people are saying and is present in some capacity other than that of an object to make Valjean sad.  Someone compared Collinstine to a substitute Coin of Shame, and I think that’s really apt: Valjean is distressed and guilty because he’s failed to rescue Cosette, so he goes to Fantine’s bedside to sear the image of her despairing face onto his retinas in the same way he seared the imprint of Petit Gervais’s forty sous onto his palm.  He’s punishing himself by deliberately upsetting her.  For both Valjean and the camera, this scene is all about Valjean’s feelings and not about Fantine’s.

The person in this room with the biggest problems is not Jean Valjean, for pity’s sake.  I like to see the man cry as much as the next fangirl, but this was vile.

• Valjean’s visit to Fantine on her deathbed is a stupid, irresponsible thing to do and a direct cause of her unhappy death in the Brick and in every adaptation where she survives long enough for Javert to turn up. Valjean knows he has no good news to give her, he knows that the criminal justice system will be after him sooner or later, he knows that having Fantine and Javert together in the same room is a phenomenally bad idea, and he has urgent business in Montfermeil, or if he’s resolved to stay in Montreuil-sur-Mer to await arrest then he urgently needs to designate some representative to go and pick up Cosette in his place.  Instead he loiters by a sick woman’s bedside until Javert shows up and predictably traumatizes her to death.  As a result, Fantine dies in misery and Cosette suffers under the Thénardiers for another year.

But in the Brick it was at least not an insane thing to do.  When he left Arras he was not being pursued, and he reached Montreuil well ahead of the news about the trial.  The magistrates in Arras were in two minds about how to handle the situation.  Given Madeleine’s status, the widespread affection and admiration for him in the region, and the fact that he turned himself in, it’s not inconceivable that had it not been for his little Bonapartist slip in the courtroom, they wouldn’t have issued a warrant for his arrest at all and would simply have sent him a summons to appear at the Var Assizes to stand trial, or directed him to surrender himself at the prison in Montreuil rather than sending Javert after him.  I’m not sure it’s likely, given that he’s a known flight risk and parole violator illegally occupying a public office and they seem keen to get their hands on his fortune, but it’s not inconceivable.

In this adaptation Valjean breaks away from the police in the street and leads them straight to Fantine’s deathbed.  There is no fucking excuse for this.  NONE.  Brick Valjean was a fool to come at all and a bigger fool to stage a massive confrontation with Javert while he was still in the infirmary, but his mistakes were those of a man under immense stress who never bothered to think about Javert long enough to construct a working psychological profile of him.  Westjean’s mistakes were the mistakes of a selfish asshole too caught up in his own feelings of guilt and shame to have any regard for the people he allegedly cares about and wants to help.  Valjean is an extreme deontologist and his actions are always self-absorbed to a certain degree, because they’re fundamentally more about whether he can feel he’s done the right thing than about the actual effects of his actions on other people.  (He and Brickvert have that in common.)  But it should never get to the point where he’s actively harming people to this extent.

• Brickvert doesn’t seem to care for firearms much, and Oyelowovert looks like a jackass waving his two giant pistols around, but he’s a different character and if he’s decided they make him look cool then fine, I guess.  But in that case he should not be intimidated by Valjean’s strength in the infirmary.  You have guns, idiot!  If he threatens you just shoot him in the leg!

Guns completely change the dynamics of this scene, as the Dallas staging of the musical conveys very well.  The BBC handed Javert some pistols and then forgot he had them.

• In 1862 people would probably have found the implication that Catherine has Fantine’s hair to be sweet and charming, because the Victorians loved toting bits of their dead relatives around and hair mementos were so common that no one would have considered it weird.  In 2019 it is CREEPY AND GROSS.  I know there’s no ethical consumption under capitalism but we did not need to know that Cosette’s doll was made from the body parts of desperately impoverished and now dead women, really.

• Oh, so we’re flipping over beds when we fail to catch our favorite fugitive convict now, are we?  Great, now everyone is yelling.  FFS, Javert, I thought you were supposed to be the emotionally continent one.

• Where was Marius this week???  If Davies was happy to cut that leg of the stool out of whole episodes then why the fuck not just let Georges die when he’s supposed to and let Marius have a coherent character arc?  It makes no sense whatsoever.

I’ve got to be honest, I was not a fan of this episode.  But it did get Valjean and Cosette’s relationship right, and that is the most important relationship in the story.

[johnnymundano]

First Reformed (2018)

Directed by Paul Schrader

Written by Paul Schrader

Music by Lustmord

Country: United States

Language: English

Running Time: 113 minutes

CAST

Ethan Hawke as Pastor Ernst Toller

Amanda Seyfried as Mary Mensana

Cedric Kyles as Pastor Joel Jeffers

Victoria Hill as Esther

Philip Ettinger as Michael Mensana

Michael Gaston as Edward Balq

Bill Hoag as John Elder

(Confession: All images stolen from the Internet. We’re all going to hell anyway.)

In which Paul Schrader, a man whose last movie I bought from a pound shop makes a movie with goofy Ethan Hawke as a sad vicar and…it’s my favourite movie of 2018? Damn straight it is, Poncho. In First Reformed Paul Schrader creates a gloriously stark and sedately paced meditation on the question, how can we survive in the face of despair?

First of all, the Ethan in the room. Ethan Hawke. He’s okay, right? Never a chore to watch, but hardly a heavy hitter. A pleasant enough addition to any cast. Well, that was before First Reformed. First Reformed is movie about revelation and Ethan Hawke’s Ernst Toller(1) surely is a revelation. Toller, predictably enough, is the umpteenth iteration of Schrader’s evolving portrait of (Thomas Mann’s) God’s Lonely Man, and, like the Whitman said, he is large, he contains multitudes; he is the refined essence of all the God’s Lonely Men who came before him. Given Hawke’s predecessors in this ever mutating role include such titans of thesping as Robert De Niro, Willem Dafoe, George C. Scott and Richard Gere, the fact that his (Ethan Hawke’s!) performance can lounge comfortably amongst them is perhaps the biggest surprise in First Reformed. Appropriately enough, watching Hawke as Toller you will feel the scales fall from your eyes; Ethan Hawke (Ethan Hawke!) is not a lightweight screen presence, he is, in fact, an actor of the top tier. It helps that in First Reformed he’s given top tier material by a true auteur going at it like he’ll never get to go at it again. First Reformed is Schrader at the top of his mature game, exerting an iron control over material driven by an icy rage. And Hawke (Ethan Hawke!) is more than equal to the task. The boy done good.

1) A toller is defined as “a person who rings church bells (as for summoning the congregation) bell ringer, ringer. signaler, signaller - someone who communicates by signals.” There is some irony here as Toller’s congregation is small, but he definitely communicates via signals, particularly so at the close of the movie. Oh yes, particularly then.)

Everyone else has to act in Hawke’s daunting shadow, so it is absolutely to their credit that they still shine so brightly, so fiercely.  I doubt many people other than his immediate family thought that Cedric the Entertainer could portray such a smoothly venal and slyly manipulative Pastor, while still appearing wholly human and relatable. (Mind you, Brummy funnyman Lenny Henry made a creditable Othello, so who the hell knows?) Michael Gaston is great as Edward Balq (2), the bad businessman who ambushes Toller over apple pie and thinks maybe it’s God’s plan to fuck up the world for cash. And he’s no one dimensional greedy meanie either, he is part of Schrader’s dramatisation of humanity’s struggle with The Bible’s (typically) contradictory command to both tame the world and also to preserve it. The abysmal weight of the latter burden falls on Philip Ettinger, as Michael Mensana (3). Ettinger is worryingly convincing as a man who clearly can no longer control his own mind. This tortured soul is desperately using his last scraps of rapidly fleeing reason to prevent himself from doing an unforgivable thing; either via the humane intervention of Toller or via other, more drastic measures. Amanda Seyfried is harrowingly vulnerable as Michael’s wife, Mary Mensana (4), but she also brings the core of steel essential for survival in the fallen world, a core which her husband, Michael, fatally lacks.  

2) “Balq” is a phonetic ringer for “balk” i.e. to hesitate or be unwilling to accept an idea or undertaking.

3) Mensana alludes to “mens sana”, the Latin for “healthy mind”; it is used ironically for Michael. His mind is unhealthy.

4) Mens sana is used literally in the case of Mary. She also deserves its use in the wider sense; Mary embodies Juvenal’s phrase “mens sana in corpore sano”. She is “a healthy mind in a healthy body”. Her pregnancy is a sign of health and hope. Also, she’s called “Mary” and is pregnant in a movie thrumming with religious tones both over and under; I don’t think we need Sherlock Holmes to puzzle that one out for us.

Things are being said in First Reformed. Things weightier than “Tom Cruise can save the world without chipping a nail” or “uptight businesswomen need to unclench so wacky men can love them”. All true and valuable lessons, no doubt, but they aren’t what’s being said in First Reformed. Of course, something is usually being said in a Paul Schrader movie. That’s the way Paul Schrader rolls; like the thunder. Paul Schrader has been knocking about movies for what, five decades now? Since 1974 anyway, when The Yakuza was filmed by Sydney Pollack from a script by Schrader and his brother, Leonard. It was a good start; an entertaining geriatric action movie, involving an aged Robert Mitchum steamrollering his way through the Yakuza, while delicately pining for his war-time love. A little bit of playing in the Hitchcock sandbox aside (Obsession, Dir. Brian De Palma, 1979), this potent fuel of meditative violence would form the core of Schrader’s early offerings, with Rolling Thunder (dir. John Flynn, 1977) and, particularly, Taxi Driver (Dir. Martin Scorsese, 1976) refining the approach. Movies like Blue Collar (1978) and Hardcore (1979) also displayed Schrader’s interest in alienation, guilt, dehumanisation, guilt, sexuality and spiritual inquiry. And guilt. Sure, such themes were certainly less immediately arresting than hook handed ‘Nam vets and tonto taxi drivers, but with American Gigolo (1980) Schrader successfully intertwined all his major themes, high and low, into his first critical and commercial career maker of a knockout. That same year saw the release of the Schrader scripted Raging Bull (dir. Martin Scorsese). Top o’ the world, ma, in effect.

There then followed the ‘80s and, for Schrader, what appeared to be a “kid in a candy store” phase.  (Legal note: no one said “nose candy”) Given the freedom Hollywood success bestows, Schrader  indulged his more personal fascinations via his own scripts and those of others. Schrader having more going on upstairs than most in La La Land, this led to mixed results; his study of the celebrated Japanese author and coup instigator Mishima: A Life in Four Chapters (1985) clearly being of more artistic value than his study of Nastassja Kinski’s bare arse in his remake of Cat People (1982). But I have watched the latter far more than the former, so who am I to judge? Somewhere in this wayward and invigoratingly fun period is a movie about kidnapped heiress Patty Hearst (1988) and an adaptation of Paul Theroux’s Mosquito Coast (Dir. Peter Weir, 1986). And I’m pretty sure few filmographies contain a musical starring Michael J. Fox and Joan Jett (Light of Day, 1987) and a Jesus movie which managed to upset various touchy Christian groups, including that of his own father (The Last Temptation of Christ, Dir. Martin Scorsese, 1988). A real cinematic fruit basket; lots of fun, something for everyone.

But after the party comes the hangover, alas, and the early ‘90s for our fascinating firebrand seemed somewhat listless and directionless. At best. Schrader working with Harold Pinter sounds dauntingly awesome, especially with Christopher Walken and Helen Mirren on board, but the result was a stodgy Europudding adaptation of Ian McEwan’s The Comfort of Strangers (1990). (Walken is amazing in it though, true.) Then in 1992 there came Light Sleeper, a perfectly fine movie, a pretty damn good movie in fact; if you ignore that it’s basically American Gigolo for drug dealers, with a soupcon of a last act shootout for Taxi Driver/Rolling Thunder flavour. It’s probably Schrader’s best ‘90s movie because it magpies from all his earlier, good movies.  A TV movie starring Dennis Hopper which used fear of witchcraft as a metaphor for the ‘50s Communist scare (Witch Hunt, 1994) sounds…interesting. (I haven’t seen it.) And the lean period sputtered out with a script contribution to City Hall (Dir. Harold Becker, 1996), a movie which despite a class pedigree stubbornly refused to ignite. No period in Schrader’s filmography is a total loss, but there was a clear lack of  artistic traction in those six years.

Maybe even Schrader noticed, because in 1997 his work flowered anew with the release of both Touch and Affliction. As if invigorated by the source works, Schrader produced one of the best ever Elmore Leonard adaptations (an even greater achievement given the atypical nature of Touch. Christopher Walken is excellent in it, obviously), and an appropriately despairing staging of Russel Banks’ grim novel of dysfunctional families and DIY dentistry. As to the latter it would be lax to fail to state how incredible James Coburn is as The Awful Father. I’ve never seen Forever Mine (1999), so for me Schrader’s ‘90s closed on a high with the adaptation of Joe Connelly’s Bringing Out the Dead (Dir. Martin Scorsese, 1999). A fine high-octane night-in-the-life-of-a-paramedic parable featuring a lively cast kicking out the jams; all led by a truly great Nicolas Cage before his fall, before his face started adorning novelty sequin cushions.

In 2002, with Autofocus (from Robert Graysmith's book “The Murder of Bob Crane”) Schrader went back to the well of morality and debauchery he had been lightly dipping into throughout his career, and this time chucked the bucket in further than he had since Hardcore, drawing up a weighty, but darkly comic, look at the corrupting influence of images. Pretty ballsy for a man who trades in the things. It was a great start to the 2000s, so obviously it immediately turned to shit. So shit in fact most of the movies from this period appeared without my noticing, were difficult to source, or were disowned by Schrader himself. Not exactly Paul Schrader: The Glory Years. A 2005 Exorcist prequel was yanked off him by the studio and re-edited and re-shot under Renny Harlin. The Walker (2007), was really good with Woody Harrelson as a gay “professional companion” to older women accidentally uncovering Washington corruption; a kind of Light Sleeper for gay consorts. A really good movie, but nobody noticed. In 2008 Adam Resurrected occurred without my noticing, as did The Canyons (2013). In 2014 I did notice The Dying of the Light was taken off Schrader and re-edited by the studio so, without wishing to cause offence:  **** that one. And this is where we came in...last year I picked up Dog Eat Dog (2016) on Blu-Ray in a Pound Shop; it was…very energetic, very hectic; a post fall Nic Cage and a never-even-stumbled-once Willem Dafoe were obviously having fun. I kind of dug it in a weird way, but Schrader definitely looked like his best days were behind him. Then I heard he was doing a movie with Ethan ****ing Hawke as a sad vicar or something. Hoo boy.

HOO BOY! indeed. Cover my face with egg and fry it in a pan! Yeah, Paul Schrader made a movie with Ethan Hawke as a sad vicar or something, and it was one of The 3 Movies I Loved in 2018. (The others, obviously, being Mandy and Let The Corpses Tan. I’m sure everyone agrees.) Schrader, the wily bugger had just been playing possum; letting his energies build, fermenting his themes, you know, getting ready to put out some fires with gasoline, as someone sang over the credits to one of his movies once. Filmed in the hypnotically discreet Transcendental Style so dear to his heart First Reformed is the “Paul Schrader movie” par excellence. It’s all been building to this one, kids!

First Reformed is a heartbreaker, a goddamn beautiful heartbreaker of a thing, it moves soft as a breeze and punches you in the heart like LaMotta on meth. The everyday becomes numinously stunning under Schrader’s soporific direction; the mundane is exalted; an indefinable mysticism hums through every scene; every performance is pregnant with the preternatural. Schrader lays his transcendental groundwork so well that when the movie makes a late lurch into magical realism it doesn’t jar, it just feels right; no, it just feels perfect. In First Reformed, terrible, terrible feelings are going on behind ordinary people’s faces; terrible, terrible feelings Schrader’s camera miraculously, tenderly, delicately captures like snow settling on an outstretched tongue. So, no, slow cinema doesn’t have to be boring cinema; only bad cinema is boring cinema. And First Reformed is good cinema. First Reformed is great cinema. First Reformed is Paul Schrader taking back the crown. Turns out everyone else was just keeping it warm.

[qqueenofhades]

the tangled web of fate we weave: xiii

yes i finished it after getting Extremely Distracted last night, and tumblr even appears to have fixed its issues with wonky symbols in text posts. it’s a christmas miracle.

part xii/AO3.

Garcia Flynn has spent the last two years – well, he hasn’t had a single permanent address, a stopover longer than a few months, any phone that wasn’t a burner, a consistent identity or nationality, a less than fifty percent chance that someone will appear with a semi-automatic weapon to finish the job, or a fully legal exit from any of a dozen countries. So really, draw your own conclusions. On the run seems almost hilarious in its understatement; he vaguely recalls that the literary device is called litotes. Completely undersell something for sharper rhetorical effect, usually by presenting it as the negative or opposite of the truth, the kind of sassy and contrary thing that appeals to him. You call Chernobyl just a little industrial fire. Or Rittenhouse really not that bad. Or Garcia Flynn a sensible, well-adjusted man who has a full idea of what he’s doing and everything under control. There, you see? Irony.

Flynn has a full half-dozen fake identities under his belt by now, an assortment of dollars, loonies, euros, pounds, and pesos in reserve depending on where he’s going, and has lived in shitty hotel rooms for so long that he has forgotten there is any other kind of human domicile. It’s better not to ask how he’s getting the money. The NSA doesn’t exactly offer severance pay, and while he has a few accounts in Croatia, they are under his real name and if Rittenhouse knows the first damn thing about their business, they are just waiting for him to try to access them. They’re probably frozen anyway. And while Flynn is perfectly willing to mug someone in an alley if need be, this does not generate any substantial or sustainable income. So he owns one computer, firewalled and encrypted and IP-randomized up the wazoo, a computer that God Himself could not hack (Flynn has made sure of this by running monthly attempts on it himself). This computer is configured to access the Deep Web, otherwise known as the Dark Web, where at least seventy-five percent of the world’s high-level organized crime takes place, a murky cyber underworld and the lifeblood of the black market. Every few weeks, Flynn logs on, performs a few tasks for someone whose real name or employment he will never know, and one to three business days later (good to know that crime syndicates are reliable about their payroll processing) a large amount of money turns up in one of the corresponding fake identities’ offshore bank account. Never the same one twice in a row, or on too consistent a schedule. Flynn likes to think that he hasn’t taken jobs for anyone truly terrible, that it’s the usual petty exchange of knockoff prescription drugs, corporate sabotage, data ransomware, and insurance scams, but he doesn’t know for sure.

And yet. Morally questionable or not, black-hat hacking has enabled him to keep a roof (even a terrible motel one) over his head, eat regularly, change his identities as needed, and track Rittenhouse across multiple countries and continents, so he’s going to keep doing it. For obvious reasons, he cannot return to either Philadelphia or West Point. D.C., where there must be the highest concentration of them, is also out. He can’t go at them directly, so he has to come at them from angles and pincer movements, feints and probes, a subtle, surreptitious game. Try to pin down just how far their influence extends, and how deeply it’s entrenched. It would be impossible for an entire task force with all the money and time in the world. For one man, it’s beyond that. And yet. Garcia Flynn is doing it anyway.

His first port of call was Bavaria, in Germany, seeing if Rittenhouse shared any connections or resources with the Illuminati, founded in 1780 for similar aims but (supposedly) quickly repressed. If you ask your bog-standard conspiracy theorist, they’ll claim the Illuminati are still alive and kicking, and Flynn wanted to figure out if they just subsumed their operations into Rittenhouse. So Dr. Alexander Kovac went to some regional archives and libraries, looking for stuff on Adam Weishaupt and his disciples, any contacts they might have had with David Rittenhouse and his. He found a few things that seemed to suggest this was possible, but Germany has, for obvious reasons, cracked down hard on these kinds of groups post-WWII. It is no longer the ideal environment for Rittenhouse to flourish, even if they probably have a few tendrils planted near Angela Merkel and the EU. Europe might be the birthplace of this kind of thinking, but America has realized it to its fullest potential.

After that, Flynn went to the Caribbean, since he guessed that most of their money has to be moving through the same havens as his. The Caymans, he thinks. But he can’t get physically near it, if there was anything to get close to, without setting off alarm bells, and even his hacking attempts have to be careful. He did enjoy sleeping on the beach beneath the tropical stars, but the news that a hurricane was on the way, plus seeing the same man wander casually past him a few too many times, felt like his cue to leave. Where, he wasn’t quite sure. He wanted to go back to California, wanted like crazy, but he didn’t dare.

Thus, he went to Ottawa instead. It was an unpleasant shock to go from the sunny Caribbean to Canada in winter, but there are bigger problems at stake. Canada obviously has close ties to America, so Flynn could pick up on some things by inference, intercept bits of useful intelligence here and there, and it was close enough to the border that he could nip over a few times and prowl around upstate New York (very, very carefully). The black site in West Point still seems to be in operation, and Flynn made every possible effort to hear about it if Lucy ever returned there, if there is any whisper that Rittenhouse has gotten their hooks into her again. If he did hear anything – well, to hell with subterfuge or delicacy. He would in fact just crash in and pull her out, even if it meant blowing the whole operation, and he’s relieved for any number of reasons that he has not had to. It’s a good thing she did not come along. He could never have been this flexible and this relentless if he had to keep one eye on her and teach her how to live this way. This isn’t a job to learn on.

(A very good thing.)

(Very good.)

(Very.)

Ultimately, however, Flynn’s Canadian sojourn ended up concluding the same thing as Germany: that Canada was not the right place for Rittenhouse to think it worthwhile expanding their foothold. Too nice, probably, and they don’t have the same sense of American imperialism and exceptionalism, don’t fit into Rittenhouse’s patriotic-fascist grand design. So then it was the question of the time machine, which he has been putting off in the hope it was just some sort of trick (even if he has very good reason to know it’s not). Connor Mason has been generously bankrolled to build it, according to Emma, and while Flynn will kill the bitch if he ever sees her again, she’s not lying about that. How much more do they still need to get done to make it a viable operational threat? Where are they getting their engineers, their machinery, their tech? Is Mason himself in Rittenhouse? He has to be. No way they’d outsource that little job to just anyone. Does Mason owe his entire fortune, all his well-publicized accomplishments, to these people? How much else has he done for them?

Flynn still cannot return outright to the Bay Area without sending up too many smoke signals. He has to be strategic. Finally, he lucks into a tip that Connor Mason is taking his team to London for a week in February, bringing the whole circus. As London is obviously also where Emma said she wanted to go, where Rittenhouse was supposedly trying for a new foothold, the coincidence is perfect and self-explanatory. London calling? London calling.

Thus, Flynn picks up from where he has been living in a log cabin in Vermont for the last two months (it’s practically home, he feels an odd pang at leaving it), and takes a flight out of JFK on the Canadian passport that gives his name as Gabriel Ashe. It’s a Commonwealth country, he’ll get less scrutiny entering the UK that way, especially since the passport is only mostly legit. If he blows this, he could find himself out on his ass and in even more hot water, but his luck has held thus far. He has to trust that it will.

On the flight, Flynn supposes that he knows very well what sins he is being punished for by getting stuck in the middle seat, and thinks about Lorena Kovac. About seven months ago, on a lonely, late night, he gave into a moment of weakness and emailed her from his untrackable computer. He hasn’t really spoken to her in several years, and didn’t know what he was going to achieve by getting in touch again. He didn’t say anything about where he was or what he was doing, just that he hoped she was well. He knows it probably confused and hurt Lorena, since he gave her no explanation for dropping out of her life in the first place, and he’s sorry for it. But he wanted – he wanted something, he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know. Just to be sure he didn’t dream a real life, perhaps. The one where they met for coffee on sunny mornings in Dubrovnik, looked over the glittering Adriatic Sea, and did not talk about war.

Lorena’s reply, three days later, was polite and to the point. She also hoped that he was well. She was doing fine – better than fine,. She has recently had a baby girl, Iris. She and Iris’ father – a childhood friend of Flynn’s, an old schoolmate, Luka – are engaged, and they are very happy. A summer wedding is planned. She wishes Flynn the best in his life, and remains fond of him. She hopes he is at peace. She is.

Reading it felt, for Flynn, like being punched in the chest. Somehow it never occurred to him that Lorena would also move on with her life, that since her feelings for him never turned into the relationship she was hoping for, she would tidily shut the door and walk away. And Luka – he’s a doctor, he’s a great guy, he and Flynn have known each other forever, he and Lorena will have a wonderful life. A baby girl named Iris. The ghost of a smiling child floated into Flynn’s head and has never entirely left. It hurt in a way he can’t articulate. It still does. He loved Lorena, in some unformed, tentative, unrealized way, even if Lucy was already between them, somehow, from the start. He knows why Lorena has written the letter as she did, with the tone of wishing an old flame well, even if they were never officially together. She has made it clear that as far as she and her life are concerned, the wound is no longer open, the space has been filled. Perhaps this put them out of danger from Rittenhouse, but Flynn can’t risk writing back. Lorena will probably wonder why she even bothered, and go to her child and future husband, and live. He wants that, God, he wants that, he does. And yet.

That was the night he finally broke a little, under the strain, the effort, the loneliness. He feels corroded, rusted and deformed and darkened, and he was no saint to start with. He is fighting for something, not just against, but he’s not sure he can see it anymore. It was a strange and highly colored dream, and he’s losing the impossible kernel of faith, or fate, that has driven him thus far. It’s too much. It’s too much.

Someone found his hideout the next day, and Flynn killed him. It’s not clear whether he needed to. It was probably just a lost backpacker stumbling on a place that looked inhabited in the woods. Probably. But Flynn shot him anyway and buried him five miles away from the nearest cell phone signal. It’s not the first man he’s killed on this journey, and by far not the first he’s killed in his life. But it was the first one he killed while the man was defenseless, on his knees, and begging that he just wanted to see his mother again.

(It’s a good thing Lorena is with a man, not a monster.)

(A very good thing.)

(Very good.)

(Very.)

The flight finally lands in London, Flynn just makes it through customs with the bogus Gabriel Ashe passport (the customs officer is a little dubious, but the queue is very long and he smiles as unthreateningly as possible) and heads into the City. He has guessed the approximate location of the hotel that Mason Industries is staying at – it’ll be somewhere fancy – but he can’t be completely sure. There are a lot of upmarket hotels in London, after all, and he needs to be careful about which member of the squad he snipes off. He needs someone well-placed on the project, who can answer his questions, and someone who is conveniently clueless about the fact that Mason is in it deep with Rittenhouse, who is so blessedly fortunate as to never have heard the name “Rittenhouse” in their life. Flynn has a few ideas, but he is willing to be flexible. See what comes up, as it were.

The law is almost a ridiculous concept to Flynn now, has had no bearing on his actions whatsoever for months and months. And so he does not care that he has flagrantly illegal methods of tapping into the vast network of data, of closed-circuit television and cell phone signals and open wifi hotspots and all the other stuff that you can access with just a little effort. He narrows it down to Covent Garden, wanders around until he has visual. Yes, it’s him. One of Mason’s engineers. Due to Flynn’s extensive scrutiny of the employee lists, he can identify him as Rufus Carlin. He looks to be on a date. That’s unfortunate.

Flynn takes a better grip on his gun inside his jacket pocket, and strolls forward for a chat.

“I’m sorry?” Rufus repeats, when Mysterious European Gunman makes another brusque motion. Is he a Bond villain? Is this the start of a heist film where Rufus and Jiya race through London, Paris, Madrid, Budapest, and Rome, trying to stop him before he can launch a nuke from his secret Swiss Alps base? (Rufus should wonder what it says that he has this fantasy all ready to go, but better for all concerned that it remain a fantasy – he is not an action hero). “How do you know my name? What is – do you think you can just – ”

“Let’s just agree I know more than you do, Rufus.” A flash of a shark-like white smile, which (amazingly) does nothing to make him feel more confident. “Sorry to interrupt your date.”

“It’s – ” Rufus starts into his well-worn spiel that it’s not a date, until he realizes that a) they are getting sidetracked, and b) this is not Douche von Douchebag’s business anyway. “Well then? How about you not interrupt it? And just let me go? Look, I’ve got some money. Is this a robbery? You want that? You can have it, man. Seriously”

He makes a motion as if to go for his wallet, thinking that at least he wasn’t dumb enough to bring his passport out – as long as he doesn’t need to spend his time here tied up in the consulate getting a new one, Jerkface McGee here can have the rest. Cancel his credit cards and whatever else, it’s not worth his life. But the man shakes his head. “I don’t want your money. Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

Rufus hesitates. The dude does have a gun and it’s clear just to look at him that he’s not afraid to use it, and who knows what he has in the other jacket pocket – a detonator for a bomb? Damn, and one of the things he was looking forward to on this trip was a lessened risk of being shot for walking down the street while black. “Can I just – can I just tell Jiya that – ”

“Sorry,” the man says pleasantly. “Can’t have her calling anyone. Come on.”

With that, he takes Rufus by the jacket sleeve and walks him briskly out, into the plaza and up toward Leicester Square. Rufus keeps twisting vainly over his shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of Jiya – great, there goes that entire successful day, she’s gonna think he ditched her on purpose like an asshole, or he’s just the world’s most inattentive doofus who couldn’t bother to wait for her before running back for a nap. Yes, he has more problems on his hands, but that one stings. “Hey,” he says. “Can I call you back? You know, meet for coffee tomorrow, if this is really what you – ”

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Rufus?”

“No… sir?”

“Good.” Sir Shithead keeps walking. Rufus wants to ask him to let go of his sleeve, but he has a feeling that wouldn’t go anywhere good. They make their way up into the maze of side streets and closes that branch off the major thoroughfares in London, toward a tea shop – wait, really, the guy is going to abduct him in broad daylight and then buy him an Earl Grey? Is this the most British kidnapping in existence? His accent isn’t British, though. Rufus is confused enough not to struggle (besides, he also can’t see that going anywhere good) as they reach the shop, Herr Horrible orders a small black coffee, and does not offer to get Rufus anything (he just had his latte, but still). Rufus asks for a Coke just as the man is about to pay, though, which means that he is obliged to buy it. As they sit down at a corner table barely large enough to fit him, the Red Baron raises an eyebrow. “Well?”

“Well what?” Rufus snaps. “Like I’m the one who needs to explain myself here?”

“I just want answers.” The man – Rufus is enjoying coming up with new disparaging nicknames for him, since it’s the only satisfaction he is getting out of this, but he would like an actual one – sounds impatient. “Do that, you can be back on your way in ten, fifteen minutes, tell the girl that you just got lost. You want to cooperate or not?”

Rufus holds out as long as he dares. Then he says, “How do you know my name?”

“You work for Mason Industries. Yes?”

Oh brother, Rufus thinks. Not another throw-his-weight-around military white boy coming to ask probing questions. This one is almost making him miss Wyatt. “Yeah, so?”

“Does Emma Whitmore still work there?”

“She transferred? About a year and a half ago? She still works there, yeah, but I think she took a job at one of the other offices. Here, maybe?”

“Where?” the man demands. “Where?”

Rufus stalls. It’s pretty clear from the look on the Teutonic Terror’s face that it’s bad news for Emma if he catches up to her. He and Emma have never been buddy-buddy, but they’ve worked together for a while, he’s done the calculations responsible for sending her through time, and he doesn’t want that on his head. He is relieved that it is the truth as he says, “I don’t know. We haven’t exactly been keeping up with Christmas cards.”

The man stares at him narrowly. “Do you know if she’s planning to rejoin the main office?”

“I don’t know,” Rufus repeats. “Maybe you should have kidnapped the HR manager.”

For half a moment, a sardonic but genuinely amused smile flickers across the hard lines of the other man’s face. Then it’s all back to business. “Fine,” he says. “How close is the time machine to being done?”

“I – ?” Rufus stares at him. “I – what are you talking about?”

“You’re a smart man, Rufus. Don’t act like an idiot.”

There is a silence long enough to turn very uncomfortable. They stare at each other over the rickety table. Rufus feels as if his odds of flipping it and launching the hot coffee into the man’s face are very slim, but he has to fight down an urge to do just that. Instead of answering, he says, “I’m guessing you and Wyatt Logan know each other?”

Something brief and inscrutable appears, then disappears, in the man’s guarded gaze. “We were acquainted in the past,” he says noncommittally. “Answer the question, please.”

“This is going to get me into trouble.”

“I honestly don’t care if it does or not.”

“Yeah, well. I do.”

“You’d care about something more if you knew why I was asking. And if you have to make me do it a third time – ”

“Jeez.” Rufus raises his hands. “Scorched-earth everything with you, isn’t it? Look. We’ve progressed to running more extensive tests, but it’s still very buggy. One of the lead engineers just got out of an eight-month coma. It’s not out of any sort of beta.”

“When do you think it will be?”

“What are you, some kind of corporate spy? Government whistleblower?” Mason has, for obvious reasons, wanted to keep this project strictly under wraps, and Rufus has definitely already breached several paragraphs of his organizational NDA by talking this much. “Shoot me if you want, but you’re not going to make me turn on – ”

That mirthless smile pays a visit to the corner of In Soviet Russia’s mouth. “I don’t have to shoot you,” he points out. “The girl you were with. I got a nice look at her face. From my examination of the employee directory, I think that is… Jiya, yes? Jiya Marri?”

That rocks Rufus onto his heels and all further smart remarks out of his mouth. “You son of a bitch,” he says, low and hard. “Stay away from her.”

“Do your part, Rufus, and neither of you ever have to see me again.” The man shrugs. “A little answer. Very easy.”

Rufus chews his tongue. Whatever he says, he has a feeling that it isn’t just an academic interest, that he could be directly responsible for setting off a barrel of nitroglycerin in the middle of Connor’s life – in everyone’s. Finally he says, “Again, like I said. It’s in beta. There is no expected timescale of completion when we’re talking about something this. The Mothership runs better, but we – ”

“The Mothership?” The man leans forward with an intent, wolfish expression. “What’s that?”

Shit. Rufus wants to bite his tongue off. He says reluctantly, “The main machine is called the Mothership. There’s a backup called the Lifeboat, but it’s designed just for short-term use, in the event of something going wrong with the Mothership’s crew and a rescue squad being sent to pull them out. That one’s really in beta.”

“Two time machines.” The man taps his fingers on the table, thinking hard. “And either of these, how do they run? Can you visit moments in your own lifetime?”

That is a weirdly specific question. Rufus almost wonders if he’s a crazy UFO fan, or something like that. Or maybe he’s clung onto a time machine as a solution for the big steaming heap of cow poop that his life appears to be – go back and change all your bad choices, that kind of thing. “No,” he says. “That’s not possible. You can’t travel on your own timeline. The ones that’ve tried, you – you don’t want to know what happened to them. The universe doesn’t like it, it’s not like Harry Potter with two versions of you running around.”

For some reason, that answer disturbs his interlocutor (yeah, he’s disturbed now, finally some equality). Rufus wants to demand how the hell he knows this, where he’s got his information and what he is planning to do. There is a final pause until the man makes up his mind. “Give me your access card to Mason Industries,” he says. “Your ID, your key card, whatever I need to get in. You can say you lost them.”

“I just happened to lose my ID?”

“Or I can rob you,” the man points out. “Yes, I think it might be better if we do that. I will take your money after all. London is an expensive city, why not?”

“I can’t let you into Mason Industries. I can’t – ”

“You’re here in London for the whole week. The entire team is. That is much neater, I don’t need to kill anyone to get in. You can tell Jiya that you were robbed, she will feel very sorry for you. A happy ending. You don’t report it to anyone and you don’t say anything about losing the card until you get back.”

“To what, a giant bomb crater where Mason Industries used to be?”

“Oh, no.” The man shakes his head. “I don’t want to destroy it. I just need information. Now. You give me your ID card, the cash in your wallet, and anything else a robber might take. I will let you keep your phone. Hurry up, Rufus. Jiya must be looking for you.”

Rufus has never wanted to kill anyone with a stare more than he has wanted to kill this idiot, but he can’t think what else to do. Slowly, he fumbles out his Mason Industries ID and key card on its lanyard, jerks the cash envelope out, and shoves it over the table. It’s not even his money, but still. He feels the betrayal on a soul-deep level, the one thing he hates most. What a way to repay Connor, after everything he has done for him. Rufus feels tainted and unhappy and used. “There,” he snaps. “Take it. Are we done?”

“You tell me.” The man shrugs, pocketing the card and cash. “Actually, I have changed my mind. A robber would take your phone. Give it to me, I will mail it back in a few weeks.”

“I – ” Rufus clutches his phone like his firstborn child. Like any proper millennial, he cannot function more than a few hours without it. “Like I’m going to believe that?”

“Phone. Now.”

Rufus grits his teeth, thinks that he can hopefully report it as stolen and freeze it before the bastard has time to mine all its data, and drops it into his hand. King Kraptacular, of course, makes sure to ask him for the passcode, makes Rufus do it to demonstrate that it is in fact the right one, and then finally stands up with a mocking grin. “It’s been good to do business with you,” he says, touching two fingers to his hat. “Enjoy your trip to London, Rufus.”

And with that, leaving Rufus sitting there completely gobsmacked, he goes.

Wyatt Logan has no idea how to find a man whose entire professional value lies in his ability to completely fucking disappear at will, but by God, that is not going to stop him trying.

He can’t exactly drive up to NSA headquarters and demand to consult their personnel files, especially for ex-personnel that, as far as Wyatt knows, still have a standing arrest warrant. He did try the old phone number for Flynn, but he was not surprised at all when the cool female robot voice told him that this number was not in service. He’s tried to think if anyone in the intelligence branch of things owes him a favor, or might feel bad for him because his wife is probably dead and would be willing to kick some rocks. The possibility of the quest has galvanized Wyatt like a direct intravenous hit of caffeine; he hasn’t slept more than three hours at one time since this started. It’s been four days, and he has barely focused on the fact that for all intents and purposes, the cops are looking for a body. That’s not it, that’s not what happened. Jess is alive somehow, somewhere. She’s alive.

In the course of this, Wyatt has also been managing to convince himself that Flynn is not as bad as he remembers. Sure, he was an abrasive jackass with zero interpersonal skills and an amazing ability to make everything ten times more difficult than it needs to be, but to be fair, when they actually met face-to-face, Flynn had just been shot twice and was freshly out of emergency surgery. That might put a damper on anyone’s sunny disposition, and Wyatt is painfully aware that his own behavior has been no basket of roses. Maybe it’s just because he’s so lonely, he’s so desperately lonely and so terrified that this in fact the one mistake he cannot take back or get around, but he’s already half-made Flynn into a friend in his head. Grumpy, but essentially good-hearted. Definitely willing to lend an old pal (even in a very loose sense of the word) a hand. It’ll work out. It has to.

No one ever said that this was the most realistic appraisal of the situation, but at least it’s kept Wyatt from eating bark off trees, and after his feverish hours of work, he’s decided that the best angle he has into the whole thing is Mason Industries. However, that is going to piss off Rittenhouse something wild; the whole scene in the car was very clear at instructing him that he had better never come near that place again. If Wyatt is trying to be clandestine, this is not the way to do it. The only other person he can still contact (hopefully) is not guaranteed special access either, and it could once more put her in danger. But she’s also the only human being on the planet who might know where Flynn is, or at least want to see him again too. And really. Wyatt has nothing left to lose.

He takes out his phone, and dials.

It rings once, then twice, then again. Just as he thinks it’s not going to be answered, it is. “Hello?” She sounds confused and tenuous. “Is this – Wyatt?”

“Hi.” Wyatt blows out an unsteady breath. He was the one who told her to call him if she was ever scared, if she needed anything, and now here he is, practically ready to beg. “Lucy. I – I know it’s been a while since we talked. I’m sorry to just call you out of the blue.”

“No, of course,” Lucy says. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Are you okay?”

Wyatt was fondly supposing that he didn’t sound like that much of a wreck, but he appears to have been disabused of that along with everything else. “Actually,” he says, swallowing hard as his voice catches. “Actually. . . since you ask, I’m. . . I’ve been better. A lot better. I’m sorry again, I know this may not be something you want to talk about, but have you – have you seen Flynn recently? Garcia Flynn?” As if there can be another.

There’s a marked silence. Then Lucy says, “No. I haven’t seen him for almost two years.”

Wyatt can feel his fragile, giddy optimism heading for a crash as fast as it went up, but he still refuses to let this be the end of the road. “So you – you don’t know where he is these days, or what he’s doing, or – ?”

“No,” Lucy says. “I have no idea. Wyatt, what’s – what’s going on?”

Wyatt stares at the ceiling, trying to formulate the words. The idea of speaking it aloud is still unbearable, and it’s bad enough for Lucy that he called her like this, he doesn’t need to start unloading his flaming trainwreck of emotional baggage onto her. He tries to keep his voice as calm as it would be at a briefing for his superiors. Tells her, as succinctly as he can, what’s happened, and why he’s looking for Flynn.

Lucy makes shocked and sympathetic noises, which Wyatt appreciates, but he knows he still does not deserve her pity. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “Is there anything else I can do? Do you have – have family in town, or anything?”

“Family?” Wyatt laughs, bone-dry. “My family? Nah. Grandpa Sherwin died a few years ago. Jess’s family has – they’re in town, they’ve been with the cops. I get the feeling that they think I should be at the station more, that I wasn’t there for her when she was alive and now I’m not there for her when she’s – ”

He stops. He can’t bear the fact that he almost said it, that it seemed so terribly possible. It feels like there’s a boulder wedged in his throat, and he rubs his hand over his eyes, trying to collect himself. “Anyway,” he manages. “I told them that I was – that I was working on something, and – this is my fault, I know it is. But if it’s not just some local scumbag, if it’s more – if it’s them – ”

Lucy doesn’t answer immediately. He can hear what she must be thinking – that he’s got a lot of nerve strolling into her life again, dumping a sob story about his wife on her, and assuming she will return to something that must hurt her as well, that she will unearth what must be some not-very-well-buried bodies and contend once more with the ghosts. She would be justified in any or all of it, and he tries to steady himself for her telling him to take a hike. There might still be some other way to track down Flynn, though it gets much narrower and more impossible if so. But when there’s nothing else but this –

“Okay,” Lucy says, quiet and level and cool as stone. “What do you need?”

This is not the wisest idea Lucy has ever had, not by a long shot. She should be unnerved, perhaps (but again, that is the whole point) at how greatly not-wise it is. And yet. She’s not.

It feels like something has changed in her, turned as sharply as a key, and she’s not even sure what. Just in that moment of finally accepting that Flynn was gone (the way that Wyatt is desperate not to do with Jessica, but it is not for Lucy to decide that before its time) it was like she woke up, somehow. There was never any chance that she was going to sit around and languish on a couch and weep. She got right on with her life, professionally and personally, and she’s done fine with it. And yet, after her visit to her mother’s the other day, when she’s gotten even fewer answers than she has questions, when she realized that she’s lived like she’s sleepwalking, determined that things are normal, not to rock the boat, to make everyone else’s lives easier and safer, pushing herself further and further away –

She doesn’t know what, but she’s sick of it, she’s angry, she’s tired, and she’s not willing to do it anymore. So suddenly, when Wyatt Logan calls out of the clear blue sky, says his wife is missing, and hints that he thinks Rittenhouse has something to do with it, Lucy’s game.

She drives to her mom’s house when she knows that Carol will be out for a doctor’s appointment, goes upstairs, and gets the gun out of the box. Takes the ammunition as well, hurries down to her car feeling properly scandalous – she has never done something like this, it doesn’t even feel like her. She’s licensed the gun in the state of California, she’s allowed to carry it, but she still puts it in the glovebox and locks it. Her hands are shaking, but she clenches them, and they stop. Then she drives back to Stanford, finishes her day, and waits.

It’s around five o’clock when there’s a knock on her office door, and she stands up to open it. Has guessed who it is, but it’s still a small shock to see him in person. He doesn’t look that great, with a missing wife and a long drive under his belt, but he manages a wan smile and offers his hand. “Hey, Lucy.”

Lucy pauses, then reaches out and hugs him. She doesn’t know why, other than that he looks like he could use it, and Wyatt goes briefly stiff, then awkwardly hugs her back. They step apart after a moment, and he clears his throat. “I – so. . . how. . . how are you?”

“Fine.” The word almost lives on her lips these days. “It’s not going to cause you any problems with the cops or Jessica’s family if you came up here, is it?”

“Them?” Wyatt laughs bitterly. “They’ve never exactly been my biggest fans, and honestly, I’m not sure I blame them anymore. Her stepdad almost didn’t attend the wedding – he’s a son of a bitch anyway, but. . . yeah. I told them I was working on something to get her back, and that’s not a lie. Told them to call if the cops – ” He stops. “Well, if anything came up.”

Lucy supposes this is his business, and what they are proposing is going to take enough attention and concentration that they don’t need any more distractions. Wyatt waits as she finishes up a few things, turns off the lights, and grabs her purse. They have a few hours to kill, so they get a quick dinner and try to catch up. The conversation isn’t exactly bountiful, and it’s hard to be sure what the dynamic here should be. Old friends? Not exactly friends, but they did trust each other in a tight spot, and they’re not strangers. Heist partners preparing for the night’s action? Some of that is true, but still. Should she be comforting him, offering to talk him through his problems? She is not a trained psychiatrist, and she gets the sense that Wyatt’s problems are a lot more than she’s reasonably prepared to take any kind of crack at, but there’s also value to be had in just talking to someone who cares. She doesn’t get the feeling there’s a whole lot of that in his life, really. Especially not now.

In any case, it’s getting later, and it’s time to put their plan (such as it is) into action. There is a solid chance that this night ends with both of them arrested, but (who is she and what has she done with Lucy Preston) the idea almost exhilarates her. They drop off her car at home, and Wyatt glances at the house. “All that space just for you?”

“I – no. We – live together. My boy – boyfriend and I.” Lucy feels like a high schooler about to blush at saying the word, given how awkward it feels on her tongue. “Noah.”

“That was – ” Wyatt gives her a funny look. “Wait, was that the doctor at the hospital when Flynn was shot?”

“Yeah. We dated a couple years before that, and I… we got back together about a year ago.” Lucy goes around the side of Wyatt’s truck and climbs in, hoping that none of the neighbors are peering out their windows and will feel like telling Noah about it later. Suburbanites are in fact horrible gossips, apparently. But this way, they streamline their operations, Noah will hopefully just think she’s out for a walk or whatever when he gets home, and it’s just easier to do this in one car. “He works in Oakland now.”

Wyatt glances at her, but doesn’t say anything, as if well aware that he has no stones to throw at anyone else’s relationship choices. He starts the truck and they pull out, heading down the street and back toward the freeway. Here goes nothing.

They are, of course, not going to do this like total savages and/or jailbirds if at all avoidable, and pull into the Mason Industries parking lot when, as planned, it has almost cleared out for the day. There are in fact almost no cars there, which might either make things easier or much more complicated, and Wyatt considers it with a furrowed brow. “Technically, we’re still going to have to break in,” he says. “Let me take the lead, all right? I’ve got a lot less to lose if I’m popped for B&E, but I’m guessing Stanford would be less impressed.”

“I don’t care,” Lucy says, startling herself. She leans forward and checks that the zipped gun case is still in her purse; she took it out of the glovebox before leaving her car. “We’re going to save your wife, all right? We’re going to save your wife and I don’t care if we have to step on Rittenhouse’s toes to do it. I’m tired of waiting and worrying if they’re coming after me again one day. Maybe it’s time we found out.”

And with that, as Wyatt is still blinking, Lucy pushes open the truck door and steps down into the blurry blue evening. She unzips the case and checks that the gun is loaded, but that the safety is on and there’s no risk of it discharging automatically. Her hands are almost practiced at this, though she has obviously never been in a real situation of possibly having to use it and doesn’t know that she ever wants there to be a first. Obviously, they are not going to blaze in and hold a lab full of terrified scientists (or even the lab’s night crew) hostage, but Wyatt wants to talk to Connor Mason, and Lucy intends to see that he does. If that involves a little hardball, even though ‘hardball’ is far from a five-foot-five history professor’s skill set, fine.

They cross the parking lot and head for the visitor’s entrance, which is still open. They push the glass doors open and stroll down to the reception area, where the poor receptionist is just switching off her computer and preparing to go home. At the sight of them, she looks up with a start. “I’m sorry, we’re just about to – there aren’t any more appointments scheduled, I’m sorry, I was just about to lock the building, sir, ma’am, so – ”

“Hi,” Lucy says, smiling sweetly. “We’d like to talk to Connor Mason.”

The receptionist goggles at her. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, this is past business hours. Besides, Mr. Mason is out of the country until next week. Obviously, he’s a very important and busy man, you can’t just expect to walk in off the street and expect to see him – ”

“Fine.” Wyatt steps up next to Lucy. “Who else is here?”

The receptionist’s eyes whiz back and forth between them. She is obviously getting the sense that they are neither a pair of IT professionals late for an appointment, or a couple of starstruck fans wandering off the street and trying to cadge a meeting with their idol for a viral video. She makes a move as if to reach for a security button under the desk, but Wyatt says, “I wouldn’t, ma’am.”

The receptionist glances at Lucy, clearly hoping for some female solidarity here. Normally, that is 100% Lucy’s bag otherwise, but tonight, alas, principles have to be sacrificed in more ways than one. “Tammy,” she says, glancing at the ID badge around the receptionist’s neck. “How about we just borrow that for a few minutes? You sit here and we’ll be right back.”

“I’m going to call security,” Tammy the receptionist warns them. “You need to – ”

“I wouldn’t,” Wyatt repeats. “What you’re going to do is switch off the security cameras, or at least scramble them for a few minutes. We don’t want to hurt you, ma’am, we don’t want to hurt you at all. But we need some answers, and we won’t leave until we have them.”

“I told you. Mr. Mason isn’t here.” Tammy’s face is white. “I couldn’t bring you to talk to him even if I wanted to. I don’t know what you want. Please, I have two children, I – ”

“Calm down,” Lucy says gently. “We’re not here to hurt you, like he said. But even if Mason isn’t here, there has to be someone else we can speak with.”

“No, they’re – it’s a team trip, all the project leads and main engineers went to London, it’s only a few part-timers here, and they’re gone for the night. I don’t want to lose my job, I – ”

“Yeah?” Wyatt says roughly. “Well, I really didn’t want to lose my wife. So I guess it’s going to be hard knocks for everybody, isn’t it? How about his office? Can you take us to his office? Probably won’t be able to get into his computer, but there have to be some paper files. Your boss know anything about Rittenhouse? Probably does, doesn’t he? Since he’s in it?”

Tammy flinches as if she’s been slapped. “Sir – ” She looks appealingly back at Lucy. “Please, it’s – you don’t know, you – ”

“I think you should take us to Connor Mason’s office,” Lucy says, gently but relentlessly. “I really think you should.”

Tammy hesitates.

Lucy reaches into her purse, and draws out what’s in her hand just enough to be seen.

Tammy blanches, and Wyatt blinks again, as if he had no idea she was carrying until now and is impressed (and slightly turned on) despite himself. Lucy shakes her head minutely at him when he opens his mouth as if to ask, and they wait until Tammy, fingers trembling, takes her key card, swipes it, and enters a few things clearly intended to put a five-minute freeze on the relevant cameras. Then she clicks around the desk, beckons them with a very tight nod, and starts to walk, as Lucy realizes she can’t let her get too far ahead of them, and jogs to catch up. She takes firm hold of Tammy’s wrist, and the other woman jerks as if it’s a handcuff. Lucy has never had anyone look at her with that much fear and revulsion before, and she isn’t sure she likes it. And yet, there is an unmistakable frisson of power that is, in a sick way, kind of appealing. Oh God, she isn’t a psycho, is she? She’s not. She’s not.

They walk down a glass corridor that overlooks a vast, dim steel warehouse, banked with computers and consoles on every side. It looks kind of like NASA launch headquarters, an impression reinforced by the sight of the large white plasteel eyeball sitting on struts in the middle of the expanse. It’s banded with blue blinking lights, increasing its resemblance to a UFO even more, and Lucy suddenly thinks that she might know exactly what that is. There has, obviously, still been a kernel of doubt in her mind – Emma was convinced that Mason Industries was building a time machine and she was test-piloting it, yes, but Emma was crazy. This, though. It could somehow be a film prop that Mason Industries is building for some bizarre reason rather than a set dresser in Hollywood, but Lucy doesn’t think so.

Wyatt, who has no clue (probably for the best) that time travel enters into this anywhere, is totally befuddled, but Lucy once more shakes her head at him. They complete the traverse to the doors of important-looking offices – Connor Mason, Anthony Bruhl, a couple others – and Tammy swipes her key card to open Connor’s. One of them is going to have to watch her while the other ransacks for useful intel. Otherwise she will run away and raise the alarm, and then they’re definitely getting arrested. Or worse.

With Tammy still firmly in hand, Lucy ventures over the threshold. She has no idea how they’re supposed to shake down Mason’s office in five minutes or less for some convenient Rittenhouse papers that he might just happen to have in some carelessly unsecured file cabinet. Wyatt, however, clearly doesn’t care if they’re secured or not. He takes a small crowbar out of his jacket and advances in after the women, looking around as if to decide where he needs to start smashing. Lucy appears to be on Tammy-minding duty, but she hopes Wyatt doesn’t leave too much of a mess. There’s no guarantee how long the cameras stay off. Or did they actually even go off in the first place? Maybe they should have worn balaclavas like proper robbers. Wyatt’s right, Stanford will not be enthused, and –

Just then, all the remaining blinking lights in the room, and along the hall, go dark. Wyatt, who was about to start bashing the bejesus out of Connor Mason’s file cabinets, stops with a startled curse, and Lucy thinks that this must be it, Tammy tricked them and the emergency protocol is kicking in. But if so, you’d expect klaxons and flashing lights, not just silent darkness. What the hell? Power just shut down at eight o’clock every night? But from what little Lucy can make out of Tammy’s face in the red emergency backups that are just flickering on, she is as startled as they are. Wasn’t expecting that.

Lucy looks down into the launch area, which she can see from Mason’s magisterial God’s eye view of his kingdom, and her heart skips a beat. She can just see a dark figure wending through the shadows, making its way purposefully toward the time machine (as it has to be). There’s someone else here, someone else broke in, shut down the lights and surveillance with a lot more skill than their clumsy receptionist kidnapping, and is making for its – for his? – target like a homing pigeon. No way to tell if it’s bad news or worse.

“Wyatt?” Lucy hisses. “Wyatt!”

Wyatt, who has clearly been about to decide if he should just smash some shit anyway for the stress relief, looks over with a start and follows her pointing finger down to the interloper on the operations floor. He stashes the crowbar hastily back in his jacket and pulls out his gun instead, then strides out of the office and toward the metal stairs that open into the warehouse. Lucy hurries after him, Tammy bumping in her wake like a kite on the end of a string, then pushes her down to hide behind a computer bank, which the receptionist does only too gladly. If she can somehow call 911 from there, well, that’s another problem. Lucy wants to have her hands free in case Wyatt needs any help.

She reaches in, pulls out the gun, and switches the safety off. Can in fact feel the difference, the way it comes alive, and advances at Wyatt’s side in recon stance. They’re just on the other side of the time machine from the intruder, and Lucy and Wyatt flatten themselves stealthily against it, guns in hand. They exchange a look, trying to decide if they need to actually fire. Not in a warehouse full of priceless technology, not when they’ve already illegally entered, not when they don’t know who the other person or what they want, but –

They can hear footsteps. They need to make a decision.

They throw themselves out from behind the time machine and come around, raising their guns at the intruder, who – even faster than them – has already done the same. Lucy has an indistinct impression of unusual height, and a merciless stare in the low, hellish light, and then, all the blood draining out of her head, her heart, her world. It can’t be, it can’t, and yet. All along, there was really no one else it could be.

She can’t get enough air into her lungs, and isn’t sure she will again. Her strangled whisper sounds as loud as a shout.

“Flynn?”

[winged-gabriel-blog]

Task 4

1.       Describe yourself in a few words. Confused, patient, kindhearted – or I like to think so. Um. Uncertain, out of place, and, uh, possibly – I don’t know, trying. I’m trying. (Also see: innovative, thoughtful, intelligent but doesn’t show it, helpful, compassionate, genuine, honest, heart of gold.)

2.       What are your major flaws? I, I guess I try too hard to see other perspectives of something? I, I don’t like judging people, and I don’t think that’s a flaw, but I guess it means that if someone did something that everyone else thought was really bad, I’d still try to understand. And I guess that could cause issues with the people they did wrong by. I don’t know. And, uh. I’m never, never really sure if – I don’t know, I’m not really comfortable interacting with people still. But I’m working on it. And I ramble when I’m nervous. Which probably gets annoying.

3.       What would you give your life for? I’d prefer not to if I had the choice, but I would probably give my life to protect another person. I mean if – if Jaz or Aislinn or Janey were in trouble, I’d be at their side in an instant. They deserve all the support, and need to know they have it. And other people, too – Flynn and Kayleigh and Courtney and... a lot of people, I guess.

4.       What is your greatest asset? Probably my wings? I don’t really do enough to have any other assets. (It’s his heart. Gabriel Austin Rowland has a heart of gold, and he’d help anyone if they needed it. Even if they tell him they don’t want him around, he’ll still do what he can to help them out.)

5.       What would completely break you? Umm. I don’t know, I’m, I don’t think I’m really the sort to be completely broken? If that’s even possible? I try too hard to see the best in everything, but if, if I see all sides of it, like I try to do, I don’t think I could be caught off guard and broken. But. I guess – I guess the loss of people? I don’t know, if Grimstone failed I’d end up alone again, wouldn’t I. If I didn’t have my parents to go home to, if everyone was gone at once, maybe that would do it? I’m bad at being a people person, but that doesn’t mean I want to be alone.

6.       How does the image you try to project differ from the image you actually project? Uhh. I don’t know. I, I try to come across as happy, I guess, or calm. Like I know what I’m doing, sometimes, or like I’m not – not really worried about things? And I think I fail at that? Because I’m, you know. Too nervous and fidgety while I talk. But hopefully it still comes across that I, I dunno, mean well.

7.       What are you afraid of? I’m not afraid of heights – but I’m afraid of falling. I’d guess most things that fly are, especially if it’s ‘cause the wings are damaged. And, I don’t know, I guess I’m kinda afraid of disappointing people? I don’t know what would happen if I that happened.

8.       Where would you fall on a politeness/rudeness scale? I, I like to think I’m quite polite. I mean, I know I try to be, sort of. Usually. Sometimes I can get stuck on honesty instead and I’m always worried I’ll offend people then, I tend to get less polite then. But I’d always apologize later.

9.       If you could choose a different identity, who would you pick? I – I don’t know. I like who I am. Mostly. Sometimes I’d like to be less anxious but I guess that’s more of a contribution to a whole lot of other parts of me, isn’t it? If that changed then am I still me?

10.   In what or whom is your greatest faith in? Um. I have faith in people in general. I don’t know who I have the most faith in. I guess – maybe Jaz, or Janey? I know they won’t ever let me down, if they can help it, and that’s – that means a lot. Or, I don’t know, mom and dad, probably. They – they always have the answers I need.

11.   What was the best thing in your life? Before Grimstone? Um, probably the freedom to fly around whenever, wherever? Or, you know. I really liked online games. They were fun. I miss doing that.

12.   What was the worst thing in your life? Umm. Probably the – uh. In hindsight it’s the isolation? I, I guess it’d be nice to have experienced more. But I know it was necessary so...probably the chickens. On the farm, I mean. Ranch. Whatever it’s called.

13.   What is your biggest nightmare? Umm. I’m. I’m just – l’m heading for the ground headfirst and my wings won’t open to catch the wind, and the closer I get the more of the people I care about I can see looking up at me like I’ve, you know, managed to completely fail them, and I just. Yeah. It’s, uh. It’s something.

14.   What seemingly insignificant memories stuck with you? Umm. When I was about four I remember my mom reading dads comics to me. Dad complained about her smudging the pictures with her soapy fingers – I guess it was just after dinner so she’d just done the dishes? And she laughed at him. I don’t know what happened with them after – I just remember looking at the pictures, and it was this, this X-Men comic. Angel, you know, Archangel. He was just like me. And I, I guess it stuck with me, because I still have that copy of X-Men volume 1. I guess dad gave it to me. Or maybe I took it. I should – I should apologize for that.

15.   What is your secret wish? Um, that I knew what I was doing? Ever? That I could be sure of myself? It’d be nice not being a nervous mess sometimes.

16.   What is your greatest achievement? I, uh, I guess it’s – it was probably befriending Aislinn way back when? Or, or rather catching her attention. She’s – I love Jazmine, and Janey’s like a sister, and it’s important that I, you know, remember that, obviously, as if I can forget it. But I owe Aislinn so much and I just, yeah. Her befriending me is probably the best thing that could’ve happened when I first arrived.  

17.   What is your deepest regret? Probably – probably it’s, it’s that Jaz and I breaking up was based entirely on us not talking properly? If we’d just actually talked, we’d – we’d have saved each other a lot of hurt, probably. It. I guess it’s difficult.

18.   What is your deepest disappointment? Hmm. I don’t – I don’t know. I guess – pizza. Pizza from, from that restaurant in town. I don’t. I’ve heard pizza hyped all my life, on forums and dad being nostalgic and then talking to people while playing. And then the real thing was kind of burned? And the – I dunno, I guess it wasn’t cooked properly? Burned on the bottom, cold in the middle, and just. Chewy all round.

19.   What are you reluctant to tell people? Uh, that – that sometimes I don’t, you know, I don’t feel like this optimistic, naive kid. Sometimes I feel like I know too much or too much has happened or I’ve read too much not to doubt what I see or be wary of motives. And I don’t – I’m never going to tell people that I’m not totally trusting of them. Sometimes people need to feel trusted, yeah? And I can give that to people pretty easily. They don’t – they don’t need to know I’m not opening up to them. They, they really jus t- don’t need to know that I might have more going on than they guess, I guess.

[adapted-batteries]

Season 3 Things

Alrighty...I’ve finished up season 3 today, and well I got some things for sure. I think I spent a lot of time focusing on Ezekiel, since I really wanted to see the evidence of the ptsd we’ve headcannoned he has. Some eps it’s not really apparent, but then there’s those specific moments that I’m like “oh man yup.” As my season 1 and season 2 posts, this will be under a keep reading. Also, if you haven’t seen season 3 for some reason, this definitely contains spoilers.

“And the Rise of Chaos”

I really need to remember to use “broaden your horizons” when people annoy me...most of the time I don’t really voice what I’m thinking though so that’s an issue there. Still a great line.

When the manikins came to life I wrote “It’s night of the museum gone horribly wrong.” I also know that either Dean Devlin or John Kim said it was a throwback to the autons from the first ep of the new series of Doctor Who.

“Your mothers did not hug you enough did they?” Well yeah Jenkins, they all had pretty shitty childhoods one way or another so you need to be nice to them. Be the grandpa they always wanted.

Also if Ezekiel’s been using artifacts to do stuff, how skilled is he in magic? Obviously Cassandra’s got the most out of the LiTs, but apparently he’s taught himself stuff.

Honestly seeing the LiTs get excited about stuff is the best...like I don’t know how Baird told them no about the sub, they were too adorable for me.

When Jenkins said magic was something they shouldn’t use, Flynn didn’t outright agree with him. He implied that was his stance...but we all know he’s been using the diffusing spell every time he introduces himself as a Librarian. Also that marshmallow roasting...love it when the kids have fun with dad.

Eve stopped the boys from rambling on about smuggling in early 19th century America...but like honestly I wanted to hear more...I always loved the National Treasure movies as a kid...I think by way of movies I was prepared as a kid to like the Librarians...I mean Indiana Jones, National Treasure, Atlantis: The Lost Empire, Treasure Planet, I’m sure there’s more.

Also when Ezekiel said he needed imaging equipment to see the mechanism...doesn’t the Library have an x-ray machine, or access to one? I mean where do those x-rays in Jenkins’s lab come from?

When Apep turns them against each other...Stone causally throttles Ezekiel...before I was thinking he pushed him against the wall again but I think Ezekiel circles them because they’re in reversed positions when Eve pulls them out.

The singing bit...the singing...I need me the Bibliotechnos...though later Ezekiel’s listing the magical instruments they have and says Pan’s flute...apparently he doesn’t remember that’s what knocked him and the others out in season 2.

When Flynn says “who protects this world?” to Apep, the music is very much like the music in the 11th Doctor’s run, so the appropriate response is The Doctor at this point.

Final bit...Flynn’s wearing a robe and pj’s in the last scene, and it’s late...so unless Flynn is one make commutes in that outfit, which he doesn’t strike me as that person, then he lives in the Library now...which is kind of odd since in the movies, he had an apartment.

“And the Fangs of Death”

Honestly Charlene’s gotta pretty good idea of vacation...certainly wouldn’t mind that...well not the whole Apep abducting bit but still. Also how long as she been doing this? She said she needed to clear her head after losing Judson...but she wasn’t in season 2 either...so was she off gallivanting for over a year? I guess that’s hours to her being an immortal, but still...long time to not do the Library’s accounting.

Ezekiel’s endearing look at his pizza when Flynn says we store emotional energy “in the objects we hold dear.” Also kind of surprised Jenkins was so easy to fool...I feel he’d be better than that.

When they first get in the facility, Ezekiel looked really uneasy...granted the facility looked wrecked like Darpa did, which was no doubt dredging up memories. And then later when Flynn’s yelling at him to get the video back, his voice is very tense and stressed, and he clenches his jaw before running after Flynn to keep him safe. When he got bit, obviously it hurt, but he was yelling a lot, and I don’t think that yelling was specifically pain, I think it was a bit of fear as well.

After that he’s closed off, doesn’t make a big deal about it...which doesn’t make sense if he yelled that much from pain. It does make sense though if he was starting to go back into combat mode...and why he’d think of sacrificing himself to get to the steam valve. Flynn did not have to sniff Ezekiel to prove his point though...like unless he’s got an unusually sensitive nose...there was no reason to do that except for effect.

Jenkins, after barely missing the river, mentions he jumped off the Hindenburg. Somewhere, probably on Ao3, I read a fic that was about that...it was good, if I remembered it more I’d link it.

That Flyzekiel moment before Ezekiel goes into the corridor, Flynn realized just how much he both cared for and admired Ezekiel...I mean doing that on a good hunch, he was risking his life, and Flynn apparently didn’t think Ezekiel was capable of that until then.

Aaand then Ezekiel woofs at Anubis...classic Ezekiel. Though as the virus is really taking hold, I imagine Ezekiel’s really freaking out, losing control, turning into something that either he could hurt is friends, or his friends would have to hurt him. I did notice though, though it may have been to low lighting, that once Anubis got sucked back into wherever he came from, Ezekiel looked less werewolfy...so did the lycanthropy get sucked in too a bit? I mean obviously Ezekiel’s drinking wolfsbane tea afterwards so there was still some there, but he looked a lot better when Jenkins was supporting him.

When Stone through the ball, Ezekiel whined, like a dog...and somehow I didn’t hear that before. Also Stone enjoyed that so much that he tripped on the ladder when he came back in the main area. And Ezekiel never came back in shot...I like to imagine he was busy chewing on the ball...not getting the game of fetch like my dog doesn’t.

“And the Reunion of Evil”

Cassandra says she and Stone are a well-oiled machine...what a contrast to season 1 dynamics.

If Nessie had to go deal with developers, does that mean she can come and go as she pleases?

Every time I watch the scene where Cassandra rants to Meredith about Stone, it feels so satisfying, and then descends into amusement as Meredith starts hitting on Cassandra.

This watch I realized why everyone “ooohs” when Stone says his favorite natural disaster is global warming...they’re all frost giants. Surprised I didn’t get that at first.

Also apparently drunk Stone can only talk about history...figures. Though he sobered up really quick when Cassandra pulled him in that closet.

Eve’s look when she learns Ezekiel’s been tracking the weather...she knows he cares. Also the amount he was sticking on it, even when he was caring for the egg, shows where his focus was the whole time.

When Cassandra and Stone start fighting they both apparently have the poppy neck veins when they get angry. Also I don’t know first hand what a bar during Bedlam is like...but I also know that I’d avoid a bar during Bedlam so I guess that explains itself.

I love the evolution of Ezekiel’s egg carrying, especially the baby strap thing.

When they’re back in the Library Cassandra points out the whole saying “we’re the Librarians” gets them in places...Cassandra realized it was the spell...but later on in “And the Curse of Cindy,” Stone asks Flynn like he doesn’t know...guess he forgot?

I’ve never figured out why it’s such a big egg for such a little creature...that’s not how eggs work...needless to say mom Ezekiel is the best, especially him getting emotional at seeing it for the first time in the tank.

“And the Self-Fufilling Prophecy”

They really enjoyed having wet Ezekiel and Stone this season...especially Stone since he got drenched again in “And the Fatal Separation.”

Gotta love the kids wanting to make sure mom’s okay.

My only comment when the Reaper shows up is “Oh hey, edgy Assassin’s Creed.”

“Coincidence is dating two girls at the same time and finding out they’re sisters” stone boy what’d you get up to in Oklahoma? I remember seeing a post on tumblr pointing out that it was either Stone being stupid or stone attempting to live up to his “jock who gets the chicks” expectations and I lean quite towards the latter.

I know the goggles are on the right way around but I always thought Stone and Ezekiel put them on the wrong way because the plastic bit that goes over the bridge of the nose is really low down. Also Ezekiel’s kissing the coin...and Stone’s “wow.”

“Makes me want to go ‘hmm’” you’re a dork Jenkins.

Technically the prophecy never showed them hurting each other…it just showed them running at each other.

Wait so how did eve know she was the oracle? Eve didn’t know her prophecy...and nothing else made specific sense for her to be the Oracle.

Why does Stone tense his whole body when he says “mate” to Ezekiel?

Jenkins wants to go see Carrot Top...but Ezekiel seems not to want that at all...wonder why.

“And the Tears of a Clown”

Ezekiel got Jenkins a lock picking set for Christmas...that’s so sweet.

I really like the glowy affect the carnival has at first, makes it feel more surreal.

Well...snake charmer Ezekiel...that is quite an enjoyable sight. Also that mustache on Stone, and the wiggle he does...can’t handle that with a straight face.

“There’s nothing that would stop me from coming after you” Jenkins caring is the best

According to the Amazon video trivia, the scepter of Korab is a reference to Star Trek: TOS, specifically the Korab in 2x17 who had a scepter that allowed him to change matter and control people.

Why does Stone feel the need to whack Ezekiel when he gets the idea that it’s the magic wand? Like so much action going on there considering he beat on the table too.

The last time Christian was doing a slow mo cool crew scene at a carnival was in Leverage...the outfit is a lot more hilarious this time. Also, Ezekiel and Stone, causally hiding in small spaces, was a thing this season as well, since they did it again later in “And the Eternal Question” in the bunker/lab thing.

Cassandra didn’t realize Kirby had the hots for Charlotte...and seems to not realize it when it’s happening to her, or does and is super smooth...honestly really makes for an autistic headcannon for her, and honestly I’m on the train that everyone is on the spectrum.

Cassandra’s face when Kirby makes the two guys punch each other is great, so disapproving, and the make up makes it even better. Also after Kirby gets them, when they get to the molten wax vat, they’re in their normal clothes...but unless Kirby let them change, doesn’t make sense. Weird continuity thing.

Stone saying “don’t be wrong” to Kirby is me @ people who say wrong stuff.

“And the Trial of the Triangle”

Love how they had to ninja up and hand cuff Flynn to get him to sit still. That whole scene is pretty interesting, because we get to see both character growth from the LiTs, and character regression with Flynn’s running around. And it’s the little things in the background that show how much the LiTs they bonded...Stone’s elbow bump for encouragement when Ezekiel walks back to the stairs, Ezekiel’s hand pat for Cassandra, and Ezekiel’s and Cassandra’s approving nods at Stone.

Stone having fun figuring out the disappearance pattern is always fun to watch.

The kids don’t like mom and dad arguing...except Ezekiel...he’s literally in awe until Stone smacks him to get going through security.

“I love you more than learning itself” well that’s how we know it’s real. Flynn went around running because he super cares about how Eve looks at him, and yeah she was annoyed with him for sure in season 2, and he really failed at communicating at how that bothered him.

The whole plane lavatory scene...Noah’s acting in this always gets me. You can see when Flynn realizes he’s been away from Eve too long and thus isn’t being the Librarian she knows he can be. He needs her to keep him in check just like the LiTs need her to keep them from arguing all the time.

Also you’d think after the whole Santa affair someone would have learned to fly a plane.

“The whole hillside is not covered in spice” actually flynn says “a veces a la dora de beda no está cubierta de azúcar” which means “Sometimes the donut is not covered with sugar”....so how did they get the line the whole hillside is not covered in spice from what he said???? Azucar hasn’t changed meaning that I know of so it never meant “spice.”

When Flynn used the mirror to see Tibbar backwards...the R and B’s weren’t backwards.

I just noticed Flynn answers the caring friend line and says he’s “terrified of being hurt” then Stone relieves himself as the knight...coincidentally it’s a problem they both had, but Stone’s gotten over that fear since he joined the library, though it took time.

My final comment was “ Heh only took a trip to the Bermuda Triangle to get Flynn to quit being an idiot.”

“And the Curse of Cindy”

Ok the way they show Cindy in the glowing white light and outline always made me think there was some deity doing this or like a low key alien vibe. Also I’m glad Ezekiel’s on the internet because they would have no information on Cindy if it wasn’t for him.

Flynn looked really haggard in the confessional booth, like he’s not had sleep. Apparently he’s still been doing whatever, or not sleeping well, after Eve pointed it out in the intervention.

“He’s always been wily” I love that pun.

“Stay strong,” Stone says...then immediately gets affected by the potion.

Ezekiel’s torn between being super confused and wanting to punch Stone to shut him up. Also Stone saying the bridge the Annex is under is beautiful is hilarious...even drugged he loves architecture.

Ezekiel responds to the question of his immunity with “She’s...not my type.” What does this mean????? The hesitation...that really leans into the “Ezekiel’s not straight” lane.

Also Eve went into Cindy’s room...but didn’t get affected. Theory time.

Jenkins seems serious about Ezekiel being so self-obsessed it negated the potion. Some thought that Ezekiel was immune because he was in love with Stone (thus why he acted weird when Stone confronted him at the end of the ep), but it would make sense because Ezekiel was already obsessed with protecting his family (thanks to ptsd).

Also I don’t agree with Stone’s statement that he and Flynn have egos comparable to Ezekiel’s...especially when Flynn’s got knocked down several pegs in the previous episode, and Stone was never focused on himself completely like Ezekiel had been. However I don’t think it was Ezekiel’s ego either, since I’m on the train that his behavior in season 3 shows he’s really caring for everyone’s safety to the point he risked his life at the super collider, so if Ezekiel being obsessed with something else was the key, it was protecting them. Theory time done for now.

Jenkins totally didn’t question his immunity, but he stuck the stink on him anyway because he could.

Cassandra touched under her nose when she calculated the trajectory of the missile, like she was having a nose bleed...she hasn’t done that all season, this is lead up to her surgery next ep.

I’d love to know what Flynn and Stone said when Jenkins put their gags back on after the failed remedy.

When Ezekiel’s talking to Cindy, we get a lot of his backstory, and see him fumble with complimenting her since he doesn’t do that normally...and that smile he does when he sees his words working on her, it’s priceless.

Something tells me an industrial freezer wouldn’t get that cold to get metal to the brittle point...cool concept anyway

The computer says “whomper” which is a reference to “WOPR” from War Games...I love that movie.

Theory time again...the fact that Ezekiel says that he found the right ones worthy of his love tells me his obsession from wanting them safe is a really plausible candidate on what made him, and Eve, immune. It’s not that Flynn and Stone don’t care for the others, but Flynn is in a vulnerable place from the episode before, and Stone’s had 20+ years of not having mutual care going on for his true self, so he’s still settling into it. Ezekiel’s jumped into it wholeheartedly. Theory time over.

Love how Ezekiel has to like reboot after Cindy kisses him. He was completely caught off-guard. Also when he leaves...he doesn’t kiss her on the mouth, he goes for the forehead...most people go for the mouth...but I guess that could be a preference thing.

The final scene...the first time I saw it, I totally thought for a moment Stone was going to confront him about his suspicions of Ezekiel’s love being for him...but of course that didn’t happen. Ezekiel was going to say something when Stone walked away though, and it wasn’t going to be “no” in a normal denial if Stone had been right (because Ezekiel rarely fesses up to stuff right away) so he was going to say something else. I need to knoooooowwww...

“And the Eternal Question”

“I’m not sick anymore” *bursts into flames* well okay then...if you say so...always cracks me up.

Flynn was in no way subtle about the clue he found.

Ezekiel...boy...don’t eat people’s food...also if they hadn’t ripped off the curtain, I don’t think she would’ve burst into flames since she was only exposed for a bit. And Stone and Ezekiel re-creating the scene...poor Cassandra just sees Stone bent over Ezekiel, patting him, and Ezekiel’s shrieking...

I agree wholeheartedly with the LiTs...the spa is beautiful and I’d never leave either...unless it was humid...that’s a deal breaker for me.

Estrella was not being subtle about using her vampire hearing...but apparently none of them thought that odd. Stone immediately sees what’s going on and starts playing wing man. He does try to point it out to Ezekiel by leaning into him, but Ezekiel doesn’t get his body language. I would’ve loved to see what would’ve happened if we had a few seconds more after Cassandra and Estrella walk off, because I figure we would get Ezekiel either asking what was up and Stone explaining, or Ezekiel realizing it. To be fair, he missed it at the weather lab in season 2 as well.

When Jenkins mentions Simone and Flynn, Cassandra’s like “Oh boy, make that two Librarians who fell for vampires.”

Ezekiel gets manicures...good to know. Also why wouldn’t Ezekiel have a gem loupe...he’s a thief...and they’re are shiny rocks everywhere.

The whole Jazekiel fight scene...the “You got me” “glad you feel that way,” the arm running. And Jenkins saving them, he’s so cool.

Half the montage when Cassandra’s in surgery, Ezekiel and Stone stay together, the last clip they’re hunched towards each other...for comfort???

Stone totally went and told Estrella Cassandra made it because he’s a good wing-man.

My only comment when the Castrella kiss happened was “ Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh” so there’s that.

“And the Fatal Separation”

I wonder how sick of bananas Stone got while he was at Shangri-La...or if the banana smoothies were a treat for him finishing his training.

So with Flynn not dying in the end, did his candle get longer again? Or is it just still lit? Also if he was going to die, and his was short, how come Charlene’s were not short? I guess being immortal messes with the candles?

Eve thinks Cassandra’s gift is now what alternate reality Cassandra had.

The zoom on Flynn’s leg scar....who thought that was ok??? It’s so obnoxious...we do cuts for a reason guys...

Land Pirates...yes. According to the Amazon trivia thing, the Trojan horse is in the Iliad first, not Odyssey. I haven’t studied either so I wouldn’t know. Also Stone was having fun memorizing the layout of Shangri-La while he was there for sure to know that secret entrance/exit.

I can’t get over Ezekiel not being able to drink...if you’re jaw is fused shut...your lips still work boy...

Love how Cassandra's just as confused about helping Ezekiel as he is getting her help.

The music went all Doctor Who again in that last fight scene.

Stone freaking out about the tattoo...but like honestly why would he hide it boy, I know it’s instinct for him to hide stuff, but you’d think by now he’d realize he doesn’t have to hide anymore and communication is super important about everything.

Man the Jenkins and Charlene feels. Also I need to know what Charlene said to Eve. If it had something to do with her knowing about Eve being a sleeper agent man that’d be cool.

Stone has a confused scowl when he’s sad...and confused...sometimes it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling because of that.

“And the Wrath of Chaos”

Watching this back again I can see now Eve was planning. She wanted the Librarians free because she knew they’d be able to take care of things.

“They can’t know we’re talking” “I’ve been meeting with DOSA” well so much for that Eve.

Why is Ezekiel so bummed about not getting to see Mount Rushmore??

I know Flynn’s in on this...but he did good acting this time...probably feeding off everyone’s hurt and disappointment. Also that utter look of disappointment on Jenkins’s face as he got stoned...poor boy.

Flynn’s not sad about Eve...he’s said he had to lie to his family...and he’s feeling it hard on top that bookcase.

Ezekiel got really frustrated with the dosa trap on Jenkins’s box thing...a level of frustration we last saw in “And the Point of Salvation” when he angrily beats stuff with the crowbar.

Honestly kind of surprised Jenkins didn’t know the fail safe...seems like something he’d need to know after the first time Charlene had to do it.

Gotta love that Flynn saved his painting...which isn’t magical that I know of.

Charlene said she had the scoop on the other side of the mirror...so she must know Flynn’s not gonna die.

Apep is surprisingly gullible, following artifact crumb trail.

I wonder if Stone had communicated about the magic he got from Shangri-La, if they would’ve connected stuff earlier...because Stone initiates making Apep human by revealing his tattoo when he puts thing together in his head.

So did the ley lines completely go away? I mean it was different than when they just faded back after Prospero.

Finally Jenkins moved stuff to more easier to get places...only took how many invasions of the Library? Also they say they quit using magic...but I mean it comes with the job...sometimes magic is the only solution...so I don’t expect they will be to stringent on that.

Final thing...Flynn has a bubble pipe...of course he has a bubble pipe.

Well, that’s it for now. I can’t wait for season 4 this fall...it’s gonna be super interesting for sure with all the pics and stuff we’ve seen of set so far. As always, feel free to message me about anything I’ve said and related Librarians rambles.

[spindashed]

(via https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y1dV4YriZVM)

Over time, if you follow my blog, you will see me write “counter articles” in response to the fandom, and non-fandom videos, reviews... etc.

Lets begin!

1.) “Have an actual story this time.” I can partially agree with this.  I do agree that having a in-depth story per console game adds to the value of the experience. More so than stories that are short and simplistic. Sonic Unleashed had an amazing story, and it’s gameplay was great!  I loved the daytime stages, and I personally LOVED the nighttime stages too!(The werehog was a nice touch, it gave flavour to the story, and it had a very “God of War” vibe to it, both the game mechanics and the fact that you had to solve puzzles.. Huge points from myself especially since I love the God of war series.) That said! phrasing your first rant with: “Have an actual story this time.” Is quite an ignorant statement.. 

I strongly feel you’re grasping at straws with this one, because I could easily sit here and list the “actual stories” from each game. Sure some games had shorter plots, or plots that weren’t seriously in-depth like Unleashed, but there are stories there. Saying otherwise is just straight up ignorant.  Besides! Sometimes simplicity is best.

2.) “Only put fan favourite characters in the game’s story if it’s for a legitimate purpose, however, no more of the ‘The adventures of Sonic and Tails’.” This one is a funny subject. When Sega had Sonic’s friends in game as playable’s, there came a point where   people were LITERALLY bitching and complaining about how they’re so sick and tired of Sonic’s friends!!!! That all they wanted was “SONIC” as a playable..

Now that Sonic has been the only playable in most games, fans are now complaining about how they want Sonic’s friends back.. Smh.

For some fans, having certain characters as playable’s (I.e. Shadow.), would bring a lot of joy... Fortunately with myself, I’ve been a Sonic fan since 1991, and usually have a preference to only use Sonic, so I’m personally happy with Sonic only games. But my personal preference aside; I think it’s safe to say fans of specific characters would be far happier to see their favourites appear even if they are NPC’s (Non playable characters) oppose to them not appearing whatsoever..  In my personal opinion, I’d say if Sega/Sonic Team decide to have a NPC appear, they should have them doing something, even if it’s an Easter egg kind of thing in the background for fans to catch.

3.) “Don’t reply too much on nostalgia.” Alright! Green Hill Zone crybabies need to get over themselves. Wahhh, Green Hill Zone is back... Why! Wahhhh.. Are you sure you’re even a Sonic fan? The Green Hill Zone was LITERALLY the FIRST stage in the series!  It was brought back, because it’s timeless it’s iconic just like Sonic himself. The Green Hill Zone is like Mario’s Mushroom Kingdom, like Cloud Strife’s Midgard, like Link’s Hyrule... I can go on..  Not to mention: It has COMPLETE justification to reappear in Sonic Forces, considering it’s where Classic Sonic spends a lot of his time. (This has been verified by direct source: “Sonic revisit GHZ often, because he really likes that Zone.”)

If Classic Sonic is brought back to the present time, where else would you expect him to be found? Gtfo.

(Green Hill Zone) “A lot of us are getting sick of it..”

Speak for yourself. I should also note, the most vocal fans in our fandom, often also tend to be the haters.. The same crybabies that whine about everything.(Wahhh Sonic’s eyes are green. Wahhh Sonic’s arms are blue...)

4.) “Stage to stage is fine, but if you’re gonna have a hub don’t be lazy with it.”

a.) I loved Sonic Unleashed too. I give you that.

b.) If you actually played the game in full, and paid attention to the concept of the story, you’d understand that the hub world stages being completely “white” was justified, and even when you bring life back into it, the background stays white because Time Eater FUCKING ATE TIME!

If there is nothing left in existence other than pocket zones (a.k.a the hub worlds.), it’s either going to be white space, or black space. Deal with it.

c.) Sonic Generations was one of the best games of the modern era... I think based on what the game was in it’s overall entirety, we can cut the hub world’s details some slack. Besides, what glorious games have you made? Talk is cheap, remember this.

5.) “No stupid cringe worthy jokes.” Alrighty, I can agree with this one.  Knowing how to blend good humour in with the right action and seriousness is key for greatness.

I feel that because Sega has begun aiming the games at a younger audience, despite the fact that the younger audience of today actually play the same “serious” games that we adults play..  The jokes can come off a bit much sometimes.  I’ve been a long time reader of the Archie comics (Which I’m sad to see it’s probably been canceled.) That said, I’d enjoy seeing Ian Flynn write for Sonic games, I think he’d be a wicked asset to the games.

6.) “If you’re going to have Wisps be more creative and actually make them fun.” I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again! For people who ACTUALLY play the games.. They obviously served a purpose in “Sonic Colours” storyline.

It was literally explained in “Sonic Runners”, why the Wisps were still in Sonic’s world. (After the events of Sonic Colours, some Wisps liked Sonic’s world so much, they decided to stay on earth/mobius.)

In Sonic Lost World, they were completely optional to use or not. Plus Wisps are basically items/power ups. KEY WORDS: “Optional to use.”

I don’t see anyone complaining about it when Mario uses his reoccurring power ups, so why must Sonic fans be so cringe.. And lastly, I’m starting to think people in our fandom are headass af..  This time around, in Sonic Forces, the Wisps aren’t there like they have been in the past. They are now “Wispons” as in they power up “Avatar’s” gadgets. (Maybe spend less time complaining, and pay a little more attention to the content revealed.. smh.) 

The fact that people are actually complaining about basically an item/power up, which the Wisps literally are; is as headass beyond words as can be..

7.) “Make sure the custom character feature lives up to the hype.”

a.) Sega literally stated “Avatar” (Which is what Sega calls him/her.) plays a heavy role in the events/story of Sonic Forces. Again you would know this if you actually paid attention over flapping lips.

b.) Sega/Aaron Webber also literally stated that the Avatar character doesn’t actually talk, voice actors have been hired, and they do grunt and have voicing to some extent. This may or may not be something that will change. But as far as things go at the moment, they won’t have any real lines.

c.) Avatar is each person’s PERSONAL OC, which literally means, if Avatar doesn't live up to the hype, you as a player failed. Sega is simply giving fans a tool, it’s up to the fans on how to use it.

8.) “Have a Super Sonic final boss fight.” I agree having Super Sonic in the games is fun, mostly because I love Sonic including each of his forms..  But I find this one ironic, because you were literally just complaining about how Green Hill Zone has been back too many times, and how the Wisps were back again.. And yet you want “Super Sonic” to be just that. (Perfect example of the crybaby logic at it’s best.)  Thank you for proving my point. *Thumb up!*

9.) “Try as hard as you possibly can to not make the game short.” I think you should go try to make your own game.  It’s easy to talk, but if you have no experience in the industry that’s quite the ignorant statement man..  But don’t get me entirely wrong. I understand where you’re coming from. Games are not cheap these days, and feeling like we have some good content to really dig deep into goes a long way.

10.) “No stupid power up that spawns when you die too much so you can skip ahead to the next checkpoint. Not only does activating it happen on accident, but it’s like the game is holding my hand.” It’s funny, because Mario games have an option where if you die around 3 times, you have the option to let Luigi complete the stage for you. (I.e. skip the stage.)  And no one complains about that. The only catch from what I understand is skipping a stage in a Mario game will keep you from unlocking everything in-game.  I think it’s a pretty fair, or good optional thing to have.

11.) “Either change Sonic’s Voice or Roger Craig Smith Improves.” Jason Griffin was one of my favourite voice actors, no doubt! But Roger isn’t all that bad. Not to mention the voice actors do actively try to improve, but they’re also doing what Sega directs them to do. As far as I’m concern, this is a complaint based on bias, and is not worthy of the “my opinion” title.

12.) “Have a moment in the story that somewhat shocks the player.” Plot twist are great, but when you have fans that wear the��“expect card” right on their forehead, even if Sega comes up with a pretty good plot twist, I’m sure the fans will find something to complain about. (Notice 99% of your video is a big complaint?) 

13.) ”Have Unleashed-esque presentation.” I can agree with you on how epic Sonic Unleashed was all day. And I would love a “Unleashed-esque” presentation/depth to all the games. But lets be real, you and I both know the loud people in our fandom will find something to complain about regardless.

14.) “Don’t be kiddy.” I’ve been saying this one for a long time now. Sonic should always be catered to us long time old fans. The younger fans will come into the fandom on their own.

One of the hottest games for people was the “Call of Duty” games. Despite being rated for the older crowd, I cannot begin to tell you how many underaged kids were playing these.

My point is, kids like what we older fans like.  (I should also note, I have never cared for the COD games.)

15.) “Make the gameplay more open than in previous games.” “Sonic Boom Rise of Lyric” was an open world game.

It was also meant to be a much fuller and in-depth game, but due to being rushed, and having to have massive game content cuts, it ended up being what it was. (Check out Sonic Synergy. What Sonic Boom RoL was meant to be, and it looks amazing.)

16.) “Fix the Ranking System.” This is the first time I’ve heard anyone complain about the rank system...

This one is also a ironic one, because if you check out the Mario games, those games are some of the easiest brain dead games you can play..... People eat them up, and yet when Sonic is time to time easier going, it’s a bad thing? Smh.

17.) “Fix the Ranking system animations.”  This one is a bit better of an opinion.  I did enjoy how Sonic would react to the rank in Unleashed, and how the music was dictated based on your play quality.

(I feel this one was an actual constructive criticism. Thus I accept this one.)

18.) “Have Crush 40.” There have been a few games without Crush 40 that had some real great OSTs. “Sonic Unleashed” was one of them. What I will say with this one is: I’d love more rock and even metal tracks in future games.. 

19.) “Have actual boss fights this time.” I’m pretty sure we’ll get a good serving of decent boss fights with Sonic Forces. 

20.) “Fix the Classic Sonic Physics.” a.) Plenty of people wanted Classic Sonic back. And when Sega brought him back, being true to the cringe our fandom is judged on, the crybabies haters started pushing the bandwagon for all who wanted a ride...

b.) Classic Sonic had pretty damn well the play style he had in the classic games, I think you’ve lost your damn mind.

(*Note: I should add, anyone who dislikes Classic Sonic is headass.  Without Classic Sonic, there would be no Modern Sonic. Respect the roots.)

21.) “Don’t make the final boss Eggman.” I’m not sure if I want to slap you or strangle you for this one.

Eggman is Sonic’s fucking nemesis. Get over yourself. Mario has Bowser, Cloud has Sephiroth, Ryu has Bison, Megaman has Dr.Wily, Blah blah blah blah.. The list goes on forever.

Every Super hero has his main villain. And it’s not ALWAYS Eggman. Sonic has fought other main bosses just as equally as everyone else in their own respective games.

22.) “Eliminate the lives system.” SMFH! That’s all I can do for this one.

This is by far one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard. I guess every other game best get rid of the lives system too right? Get the fuck outta here.

24.) “Put the Chaos Emeralds in the story.” Adding the Chaos Emeralds for the sake of adding them for what tiny fan service addition they give to the story, just like throwing in Super Sonic for the mere fan service would be literally no different from just throwing random Sonic friends into the story for mere fan service, your arguments are literally contradictory as fuck. Smh.

25.) “No false Advertising.” As mentioned earlier: Sonic Boom was what it was strictly because the game was rushed, and “Big Red Button” literally got a last minute notice that it was for the weaker system compared to what they had been making it for. Thus the game had significant content cuts, and was released incomplete.

Hence why Sega literally gave a public apology.

26.) “Bring back humans to raise the stakes.” Humans have both appeared and been absent across games. This will not make a difference to overall game quality so once again, this is a ridiculous complaint.

27.) Just make a good Sonic game please, is that too much to ask?” a.) Sonic fan’s expressing their opinions makes the game better ONLY if it’s constructive criticism! The games will not ever be better when the bitching and complaining is void of a positive point to improve said game. (i.e. “the constructive” part.).

b.) “I call it actually caring.” *See 27a. If you still cannot comprehend that, might I suggest getting a cat scan? 

28.) “I’m in grade school.” Why is it, school kids always seem to think they know it all. lmao.

29.) “This is not a Sonic hate video.” Than how about making a video with a overall positive tone. This entire video was nothing but the same tired bs.. Complain, complain, complain.

Try talking about what you love, and if you’re going to give constructive criticism, back it up with a positive fix. 

This fandom is already far too full of haters, and bandwagon riders that can’t think for themselves, we don’t need any more of that cringe.

“Sonic is my SECOND favourite game franchises.” Of course it is. 

*Closing Note: The Sonic hate, complaining for the sake of complaining, and constant negative tone with out purposeful point is tired af guys. It’s also far from cool. Don’t be a bandwagon baby.

If you are in this fandom, and all you think of is negativity when Sonic comes to mind, it’s time to leave the fandom and never come back.

[inkwellco]

FOCUS ON... JOHN HARLAN KIM

Our latest 'FOCUS ON' feature interview is with  Australian actor John Harlan Kim. Kim has journeyed from the familiar sights of Ramsay Street on Neighbours, to become a valued Librarian on the hit TNT show, The Librarians.

Hi John, how’s your visit home been? Unreal! Always good to get home for the Summer and see all my mates and the family. Mom was stoked to have me back but now I'm pretty sure she's getting over it and probably ready for me to head back to the States!

We’ve just seen the season 3 finale of The Librarians. Talk about an emotional rollercoaster. Your character Ezekiel has grown over the years, matured, what’s the journey been like over that time? It's weird. Here's a character I never thought would grow. It was apparent that he suffered from some type of Peter Pan syndrome. But over the seasons we've seen more and more that it's just a guard he has set up and I think people can relate to Ezekiel in that way, that having walls up is a normal human thing to do. He has the most to prove yet he acts like he doesn't care but we're seeing more and more that he truly does care, especially about his new family.

Can you relate to Ezekiel in any way? I've grown up with the show myself so that's probably one of the coolest parts, to not only see Ezekiel grow up and mature with each script but also needing to have to do that myself albeit on a less grander scale because obviously I'm not fighting dragons and minotaurs in my personal life. My problems are a little more realistic like trying to score a date or not over-cooking my eggs.

Has there been an episode that stood out as a favourite? Point of Salvation. Hands down. The cast were so supportive that ep as was Jonathan Frakes and Jeremy Bernstein. They put me in an environment where I felt confident enough to make choices and take creative risks. I think it all came together really well in the end and I couldn’t be prouder.

Tell us about your relationship with the other Librarians. Lindy [Booth] and Christian [Kane] set great examples for me, they’re always there for me (Lindy & Rebecca have even housed me at one stage) and they’re just good people to be around. And with Noah [Wyle], I couldn’t be more amped to work with. He’s phenomenal at what he does and I have a lot of respect for the way he handles the pressure whether as an actor, producer, director or writer. He’s awesome. I really couldn’t be in a better position with the cast I have.

And the dynamic between the Librarians and their Guardian, as well as Jenkins? It’s a great technique, incorporating different roles to cover a variety of plot lines. Rebecca Romijn and John Larroquette make it way too easy to play! They’ve both had long and successful careers in the industry and it was easy to see why from the moment I got to Portland. I love working with them. It’s fun because you’re right, when we have such a wide variety of plot lines to cover splitting up the team becomes necessary to keep on top of it all. Every script I get, it’s exciting! One day I’ll be sitting on a magic council with Larroquette, the next I’ll be beating up zombies along with Romijn!

The episodes are always so unique and interesting, when you first read each script how do you feel? I’d imagine much like the audience, fascinated, but excited as your character experiences it. One of my favorite parts about the whole thing is getting the next episode’s script. The writers on our show are top flight and they do a spectacular job in conveying their vision onto paper and keeping things fresh and interesting! Like I mentioned, you don’t know what you’ll be doing or where your character will get to travel to, all you know for sure is it won’t be boring!

There are some harder themes, for example in season 3 the team deals with the resolution of Cassandra’s tumour. In contrast, what was it like filming those scenes? As a viewer it was tense! To an extent, it definitely felt like a shock to the system! Showing up that day was such a different type of shooting day for us. I wasn’t used to coming in and filming something so somber but being the incredible talent she is, Lindy absolutely killed it!

Were there any other scenes that presented a challenge in terms of emotional response? Like the finale? Yeah I mean Flynn’s ultimate sacrifice was rough. And I had already read what was going to happen and I still got anxious watching it! That and Charlene’s goodbye. Jane Curtin’s a star, I loved having her around.

And what about training for the more physical combat roles, what was that like? Did you enjoy it? Definitely. I got to live out a bit of a youth dream with that vampire ep. And to do it alongside Christian Kane who is well-versed in vampire combat himself. I mean, come on! How lucky am I!? Our stunt guys Tim Eulich and Buster Reeves were a dream to work with and they’re absolute legends as well.

Over the seasons, what’s one of your favourite moments working on the ‘The Librarians’ set? My first day. Noah Wyle and the jewel theft scene. It still feels like a dream, such a surreal moment. I haven’t lost that feeling yet and I hope I never do. I never want to be jaded.

Do you have an idea as to what The Librarians will go through in the upcoming series? What would you like to see happen next, for all the librarians and specifically Ezekiel? Zero idea. They’re good at keeping pretty secretive about all of that stuff. I’d love to see Ezekiel continue to evolve into the Librarian he’s going to be someday. He’s far from being fully-realized and has the most growing up to do so to see him take that next step would be awesome.

The Librarians has been renewed for a fourth season, what do you think makes the series so successful? Our showrunners. John Rogers and now Dean Devlin. They’re the pulse of the show. I don’t really need to say anymore, they’re extraordinary at what they do and they’re two of the best men I’ll ever come across, by every measurement of the word.

Is there any other role you’d like to take on from a book or comic? Or another series you’d also like to be a part of? Amadeus Cho. I’ve always wanted to be a humungous, green giant.

Did you always want to be an actor? I decided at 15 I wanted to be an actor so I took a class, auditioned for my first gig and booked it. I then took that pay check from my first acting gig, coupled that with money saved from working at a charcoal chicken store and flew to New York in my school holidays. I knocked on the door to a film school building in Manhattan and told the concierge I wanted to be an actor and he told me to go find my parents. I think he thought I was lost.

On your down time what other things do you enjoy doing? I love shooting hoops, hitting the water and playing video games. I picked up boxing a few months ago too but my heads so big, it makes it ridiculously hard to dodge punches.

How does working overseas compare to working here at home in Australia? The biggest difference I’ve found is the pacing. I can’t speak for either industry as a whole but my experience on Neighbours was a much more fast-paced environment than something like The Librarians. It was actually a fantastic way to learn to nail your first few takes and within that, I found preparation was key so I make sure to show up to any set now with my lines absolutely ingrained into my brain so that the real fun can begin once you start shooting.

What advice do you have for actors, especially Australians wanting to make it in the industry and overseas? Trust your choices. It’s so easy to second guess if you’re on the right path or not but just back yourself and everything else will fall into place.

And finally, what can we expect from you next? I’m actually in the middle of editing my first project right now so I’m hoping to complete that before we start work on Season 4! Way too excited to see that finished and then to get to go back to work with Dean & the gang is going to be an absolute blast as always!

Thank you so much for your time John. We can’t wait to see you on screen in 2017!

[tammyhybrid21]

Okay...

Before I can say anything. I need to make one thing as clear as I possibly can. Many of the character’s I’ve talked about or shown you this month have been incredibly old. I’ve worked on and off again on them and their stories. Some of them are obviously exceptions, more recent. Clearly newer. But they’re still not “new” new... and that brings us to Hybrid. Now I’m sure that there will be some people who automatically scoff. Because surely Hybrid is one of my more recent characters, right? Well, not exactly.

In fact, the argument could be made to say that Hybrid is actually one of my oldest characters. Simply by virtue of their origin. Yes, they were another somewhat self-insert character, consider this... My pen names. Pretty much all of them have Hybrid included. It’s something that I connect to myself. So, Hybrid began as yet another self-insert. Something that I’m not afraid of dabbling in. But here’s something that people might not have expected. Hybrid’s origin is a short story from Prep. Jackie the Superdog. The character in that story, the one who represented me, went unnamed in the short because the majority of it was based around Jackie. My pet dog at the time who later passed away from old age asleep under a flower bush. But this left Hybrid there. And well. You people probably know the evolution of my Self-insert at least partially. The first(and latest) version is my pikachu tail and ears version of me. Along with a few others who I still use interchangeably. But then there’s also those who’ve been broken away from that definition.

Tamara Alto for example. But maybe less known, Tai the Mutt, Scintilla Tammy(Naruto), arguably Neon, and any other’s who’ve wound up in their own stories.

Which is what Hybrid is in their own way.

But that said. All that is not what matters. Because each of these characters broke away from my personality. They developed and if I stripped away the aspects that really make them avatars. Which is especially what happened with Tai, who is so far removed the only thing left is some small design aspects. And well, as for Neon, Tamara Gangitano and Moto Takara(WHMS), removing the reincarnation aspect of their characters doesn’t change all that much. And they can still stand on their own as characters... Scintilla Tammy is much like Tamara Alto, in the sense that they were designed as an avatar and then quickly developed out of the position. Now, I dhould get back to Hybrid. Who again, began as an avatar. An insertion of myself except different in some way. More fitting for the universe that they found themselves in. Which at the time, was the Undertale one.

What was the main way I done this?

Well. My personality is INFP, according to the MBTI. Hybrid’s is one letter away, ENFP. A subtle change that made a world of difference. Especially initially, because I never did end up writing the story that I intended to write with them. Savior Syndrome, despite creating the cover and an outline for what I wanted to happen. Instead what ended up happening was a roleplay blog. And this is where people might recognise Hybrid from the most. @undertalesavior, which is no longer around, but is where Hybrid’s personality developed and evolved so rapidly that I really found myself separating from them. They were no longer me, so different, incredibly different. Even in their past.

Because I didn’t fit. And it wasn’t comfortable the idea of playing a character who was functionally me. Even younger as Hybrid was. So their past shifted, before I even began to hint at it. Including their fears, their hopes and dreams. Until the stuff left intact relating them to me was their self-chosen name Hybrid, and their want to help people. And well, that made a big change honestly, because as a result the universe I had picked to base them in started to feel like it was a closed box that I was looking at that didn’t work.

Which lead to me expanding their origin a lot more. Which lead to me finally establishing their full name.

Tamika Hope Flynn

And their family, two parents who’re just a bit emotionally distant, and a large family two older brothers, one elder sister and twin younger sisters. Which meant that Hybrid was one of seven children. Discounting their cousins and extended family, which yeah. They’re from a large family, although I don’t really mention the rest of the family beyond their immediate relations because they don’t matter as much regarding Hybrid’s development and personality. And of course all the issues that the small child has.

Now, there is also the world that Hybrid is now from. Eahuli. A planet similar to our one, a world that’s similar, except that it’s a bit more old fashioned. Not too much, but the Pulse(their version of the Internet) is still incredibly new, more or less dial-up stage. And at least where Hybrid lives, it’s mostly only used in schools for learning. Research, and jobs. But it’s advancing quickly, and Hybrid is basically growing up with it. And it was through the Pulse that Hybrid got a whiff of adventure. Because of cartoons and games, things that they weren’t allowed to interact with at home.

And this whiff is what lead to a new idea. A new plot based on the world building I was doing. Because Hybrid’s entire story had developed, changed and grown. And well, they didn’t fit as well in what I had originally used them for. So I allowed them to break away from the fandom. And the story developed, with all the world building in place.

And the first big development was the addition of the Other to the world. Which, yeah, they still need a better name. But well, they’re there. And of course, well there’s the minor detail of how magic also exists... although forgotten and buried, until there is a catalyst for its re-emergence. And the release of the true horror onto the world, the Súdrun. Which yeah. That’s a lot you know... Heh, heh... yeah.

I should also probably mention that even with the magic released onto the world. Hybrid’s powers(and the powers of those around them) are pretty much set. With a limit, and of course we bring in just a touch of elemental rock paper scissors. Because there’s a limit to the elements, the obvious fire, water, earth and air, and then the others, energy, shadows/darkness and light. Hybrid’s specific element is Shadows, because that fit the theme that I was going for really well... maybe it’s a bit weird to imagine considering that they’re an eager and helpful tiny ten year old. But when in a fight they attack with bones, I mean yeah that could fit Earth as well, but I went with shadows for other reasons that play a part into how they develop over the course of the story. Also coming of age, and quite a few other bits and pieces of symbolism... So I have my reasons.

Okay, that’s really all I can say about Hybrid I guess. Unless I want to talk about plot stuff for Savior Complex, which is really not something I want to do. Okay... Okay, I’m done.

And yeah, for anyone wondering the blog has changed, it’s now @hybridsaviorcon 

[nicholemhearn]

The Limits of Legalism

Robert Mueller and the FBI can’t save us.

The special counsel’s investigation into Russian interference with the 2016 election, possible Trump campaign collusion with it, and possible obstruction of justice related to those are vitally important. I am, of course, in complete agreement with the public letter to the Congressional Republican leadership organized by the Niskanen Center calling for them to protect the integrity of the investigation. In light of the widespread nondisclosure of and outright lies about contacts, meetings, and financial and political connections between Russian interests and members of the Trump campaign and administration, it’s very hard to know what we don’t yet know. There might well turn out to be substantial criminal activity behind all this obfuscation, and certainly members of Trump’s circle shouldn’t be above the law. The investigation moreover seems likely to help ongoing counterintelligence investigations and planning for future elections. The Putin regime is not going to stop disrupting and interfering in elections in western democracies, and understanding how domestic political actors were manipulated, corrupted, or persuaded into acting out Russia’s script can help the US and other western democracies mount defenses in the future.

And, frankly, what’s already on the public record—not only involving Paul Manafort, Rick Gates, and George Papadopoulous, but also Carter Page, Michael Flynn, and members of the Trump family, from the meeting last summer in Trump Tower to the president’s firing of James Comey—already amounts to an unprecedented scandal. Yes, members of the Trump campaign were in private communication with Russian interests as well as being entangled in unreported financial relationships with them. Yes, members of the Trump campaign knew that Russia had access to hacked information from the Democratic Party. Yes, members of the Trump campaign knew that Russia was interested in putting a thumb on the scale and helping them; they were happy to hear it and didn’t report it. Yes, members of the Trump campaign and future administration sought out back-channel communications with the Putin government during the transition. And, yes, when the FBI investigation of Michael Flynn pushed too hard, Trump fired Comey, concocting a false justification for it before acknowledging, then bragging, that he did so because of Russia.

But the Mueller investigation is, and will continue to be, vulnerable to political interference. Most obviously, Trump could still fire Jeff Sessions and then appoint a successor who hadn’t recused himself from the Russia investigation and who would fire Mueller or order the investigation to conclude. Or Sessions might resign, though that seems less likely; he keeps signalling that he’s not interested in a voluntary change of job (most recently, that he is not interested in returning to his old Alabama Senate seat by write-in), and he seems to have weathered Trump’s season of trying to humiliate him into quitting. Moreover, a series of presidential pardons could wipe out Mueller’s investigative leverage, which relies on indictments and threats of indictments against lower-level or more marginal figures to get them to reveal information on more important figures.

The problem of the connections between Russian interference on one hand and the Trump campaign, administration, and family on the other is a genuinely political problem. Suppose that the Mueller investigation turns up evidence of widespread lying to Congress and the FBI, widespread nondisclosure of Russian contacts, financial crimes by Manafort in 2016, and financial crimes related to Russian money by Trump and his family before 2016, but nothing more than the winks and nods already on the public record between the Trump family and Russian interference in 2016. There’s nothing in the criminal law that can dictate what happens next. If he issues a few (or a few dozen) pardons at that stage to tie up loose ends, while some cases might still be viable in state courts, there’s really nothing left in the criminal law to prevent Trump from tweeting his “NO COLLUSION!” triumphalism and trying to barrel on through his term.

The courts can’t save us.

Consider the ongoing legal fights about Trump’s various executive orders on immigration. In response to the highly unusual circumstances of those orders, the federal judiciary has shown itself unusually willing to intervene and limit executive discretion on immigration questions. The headline-grabbing aspects of the first two versions of bans on migration from several mostly-Muslim countries spent longer being blocked by injunctions than they did actually in effect; and the version of the ban that was eventually allowed to go into effect by the Supreme Court was much whittled down from the original attempt. Courts have stretched traditional boundaries in taking into account Trump’s statements (on the campaign trail and on Twitter since his inauguration) about the order’s purpose and intent. It is still possible that the Supreme Court will rule on the merits of the challenges to those first two executive orders; it has not yet decided whether those cases are moot in light of the second order’s expiration and its replacement by a third.

But I would bet against it. The courts have good reason for reticence. They are institutionally reluctant to pick fights they can’t win with either Congress or the presidency. Only deciding live cases and controversies is a fundamental norm of the American judiciary. And the executive branch has constant opportunities to play shell games with its policies in response to judicial challenges. The addition of North Korea (from which the United States gets essentially no immigration) and Venezuela (in an asymmetric way that makes its inclusion misleading) to the Muslim-majority countries on the original list is a good example. If the courts look likely to restrict executive discretion to engage in religious discrimination in immigration, the executive can lightly disguise it.  In the time it takes slow, deliberate courts to reach a final decision about that policy, the policy can change again. The executive’s built-in speed advantage over the judiciary, and its freedom to opportunistically alter particulars while the judiciary struggles to find general principles, make it extremely difficult if not impossible for the courts to keep up.

And even courts stretching their traditional constraints and boundaries can’t substitute for decency in policymaking. No court has interfered with the Trump administration’s slashing of the number of refugees admitted, and the Supreme Court allowed the temporary complete ban on refugee admissions to go into effect. This is almost certainly right. There unavoidably is a substantial domain for discretionary policymaking in the executive, and the judiciary lacks the expertise, institutional capacity, or legitimacy to substitute its own policy judgments. That it’s a moral horror to confine people to war zones or tyrannies, and appalling shirking to shift ever more of the obligation to protect refugees onto the overtaxed countries that immediately adjoin conflict zones, doesn’t mean that it’s illegal as a matter of US domestic law.

Even the Constitution can’t save us.

If we didn’t properly appreciate the weakness of what Madison described as “parchment barriers” before 2017, the example of the Emoluments Clause under Trump means we surely must now. Trump has defied, ignored, or shredded the whole previous system of norms about avoiding financial conflicts of interest and the use of public office for private enrichment. He has kept his own finances secret, most conspicuously by not releasing his tax returns. He has not put his personal fortune into a blind trust, has not separated his family from his business, and despite an pro forma gesture toward doing so, has not even sharply distinguished between the members of his family working in politics and those running the business. He routinely relocates to properties owned by his companies, especially the Mar-a-Lago resort whose membership fee was doubled (to $200,000) after his election. And he does not release information about the identities of the paying guests at those properties while he relocates to them. He has, in short, drawn a very clear map to foreign interests about how to enrich him and his family and how to gain direct access to him in the process. His administration is mounting an all-fronts resistance to any attempt to apply conflict of interest norms in general or the Emoluments Clause in particular to him. The defiance is impressively forthright, amounting to saying “those rules are for little cases, and cannot be applied to huge cases.” There is no way to separate Trump from his family or his family from their family business; there is no way to separate his family business from foreign money or from personal access to Trump; the rules are impotent in the face of this complete mixture of man, brand, business, and office, and so don’t apply. This is all false, but it has become clear that the ethics rules on the books and the Emoluments Clause in particular are powerless in the face of this level of defiance.

Liberals—and here I do not only mean classical or market liberals, but we are very much included—have a deep-rooted attraction to law and worry about politics. The rule of law is a defining liberal institutional value; procedural regularity, formal equality, and the enforcement of rights all draw the liberal mind to legalism. Indeed, justice and rights are both legalistic concepts in their etymology and history, and they’re central to liberal thinking about governance.

Law aims at certainty, the definitive and correct protection of those who hold rights against those who would violate or undermine them. Politics offers no such certainties. Even at its best it is a domain of contestable judgments that never stop being contested. There is no final settlement; there is always another election. Liberals worry about majoritarianism, and think law can, as politics cannot, protect individuals and minorities from it. We imagine that constitutional settlements can tame politics, confining it within the boundaries of law, ensuring that it complies with justice and respects rights. But they can’t.

The critique of “liberal legalism” has been a major theme in political and constitutional theory in the past two decades. The NYU philosopher Jeremy Waldron has been one of the most prominent voices here. He has argued for many years that we can believe in justice and rights while still also recognizing permanent good-faith disagreement about their precise content. Once we see that clearly, he maintains, we will see the need for those disagreements to be debated politically—in democratically-elected legislatures, for example—rather than short-circuited by recourse to law.

I’ve slowly become persuaded by some of this, and also by some related worries about the political implications of legalism. The American willingness to subordinate everything else in politics to the fight for control of judicial appointments is extraordinarily unhealthy. The most conspicuous examples right now are the ongoing opportunistic rewriting of the procedural rules of the Senate and the idea that Alabamians should elect as Senator a child molester who was twice removed from the bench for disregarding the law, in order to ensure a Republican vote for judicial confirmations. But I’m also tremendously troubled by the classical liberal legalists who seem willing to tolerate any amount of substantive authoritarianism in politics for the sake of friendly judicial appointments.

The current administration shows why the defense of freedom and of the liberal society can’t be an exclusively legal concern. Rules can be manipulated and danced around by the powerful. Legal proceedings are much slower than changes in political circumstances. And executive power is in its nature somewhat lawless. John Locke described executive prerogative as necessary in any system that separated the executive and legislative powers, and defined it as the “power to act according to discretion, for the public good, without the prescription of the law, and sometimes even against it.” (Emphasis added.)

If it’s true that the contemporaneous legislature can’t legally plan for every eventuality, it is of course even more true of a generations-ago constitutional convention. And so the U.S. Constitution does not try to constrain all possible executive misconduct by law, but gives Congress the authority to review executive conduct and to judge officials for “those offences which proceed from the misconduct of public men, or, in other words, from the abuse or violation of some public trust. They are of a nature which may with peculiar propriety be denominated political, as they relate chiefly to injuries done immediately to the society itself,” in the words of Hamilton in The Federalist. The pardon power is arbitrary and lawless; so is the veto. Neither requires justification as a matter of law. For their abuse, and more broadly for the abuse of executive prerogative, the Constitution envisions a political, not a judicial, response: impeachment.

Only politics can save us.

If the independent executive cannot be successfully bound by law, then there is nothing else for it but politics. I’ve argued several times in this space that we need to understand the defense of the liberal society as a political project, one that is dependent on political resources from motivations for popular mobilization to organizational capacity to institutional counterbalances. (See also Michelle Schwarze’s fine essay.) The liberal order of free and open commerce, of religious liberty and freedom of speech and the press, and of rule-of-law constraints on state arbitrariness and violence requires strong political foundations; while law is a crucial part of that order, it can’t pull itself up by its own bootstraps. The liberal society needs an electorate, and elected officials, who are willing and able to stand up for it.

Executive authoritarianism and lawlessness can be hemmed in and checked but not fully constrained by courts, the criminal law, or the written Constitution.

They ultimately have to be confronted by elected officials: co-partisans willing to exercise serious restraint, or if not, an opposition voted into office who will do so instead.

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Jacob T. Levy is Tomlinson Professor of Political Theory and Director of the Yan P. Lin Centre for the Study of Freedom and Global Orders in the Ancient and Modern Worlds at McGill University; author of Rationalism, Pluralism, and Freedom and scholarly articles including, most recently,”Contra Politanism”; a blogger at Bleeding Heart Libertarians; and a Niskanen Center Senior Fellow and Advisory Board Member.

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