#they’ve been seen the most evil sides of the industry

[heystephen]

kesha and taylor supporting each other is something that can be so personal

[artbyblastweave]

Gideon the Ninth Liveread, Chapter 12

Longest of these yet. In which we meet the sixth house, get even more of a sense of the shape of Gideon’s Harrow obsession, and analyse the incongruity of Canaan House as it relates to a certain suite of YA tropes.

We open with Teacher, the fucking comedian. The Tridentarius assessment was wrong; probing the priests produces zilch, The specifics of the trials, whatever they may be, remain unclear. Teacher, for reasons unknown but well-in-fitting with his would-be trickster archetype, fraternizes with the isolated weirdo.

Gideon’s rundown of the necros and cavs conspicuously leaves the sixth unaccounted for, bar their general absence; this feels important. Potentially they’ve gone the route Harrow did of sequestering themselves. Her commentary on the eighth provides some clarity; they’re second-to-last house before the Ninth, their aesthetic inverse, and apparently aggressively pious; there’s a religious schism at play. Very likely the eighth wants to assume the duties of the ninth, and given the ninth’s sorry state would have very good grounds to do so if it got out how badly things are going. Other points of note: The second house dyad seems to not want to be there. Earlier I speculated that at least one house was going to turn out to have sent someone primarily to keep up with the joneses; I suspected that it was Dulcinea, given how she seems like she’s about to keel over, but given that the second appears to lean more heavily into the conventional military side of things, it might be them.

Something of note is that Gideon isn’t disdaining the idea of breaking down barriers and making friends; when she alludes to the tried-and-true pillar of the John-Hughes industrial complex, it’s in the context of feeling unhappy that it hasn’t happened yet. Once again she’s offloading her failure to fit in onto Harrow’s “Ambience;” without really taking into account the whole, “never talking or expressing yourself” thing that she’s stuck to like glue thus far. You can argue that that’s also downstream of Harrow but Harrow, again, isn’t around to enforce anything she told Gideon to do, and hasn’t been for several chapters; I get the impression there’s a form of learned helplessness going on. 

Interesting progression of Gideon’s relationship with Dulcinea. Hard to gauge the degree to which Gideon MINDS Dulcinea’s (expressly) master-servant interpretation of their (friend?)ship. Does Gideon mind less when the desire for service is explicit? When the requests are clear and specific? How much of the dysfunction with Harrow is that Harrow has no carrot behind the stick, never actually asked for anything and just impeded Gideon?

So Gideon wanted to do war crimes in exchange for a Big Ti- I’m not typing the rest of that out. But I think I called the flower wars thing! They kill people for thanergy.

This highlights something I’ve found extremely interesting about Gideon’s character; she’s essentially a protagonized Legate Lanius. Her goal and aspiration was to become one of the frontline hapless shitsacks that I hunt for sport whenever I boot up Fallout: New Vegas out of nostalgia. Everything we’ve seen of her childhood in the Ninth, and the myriad of ways that this fucked her up- this would be information thrown in near the bottom of an optional dialogue tree, a brief concession to the material causes that create evil people, before the player goes right back to coming up with the most over-the-top possible method of killing this faceless, unnegotiable final boss. And the fact that it’s Gideon- funny, likeable Gideon- being the one to narrate this, with no attempts to justify or rationalize it, no pause indicating that she feels a need to, is a fantastic signifier that a moral lens is absolutely the wrong frame with which to judge this story and these characters. Everyone in Canaan house is some flavor of bastard, maniac or dupe; that that’s price of admission. All that’s left is to watch them bounce off each other, to follow the horrible inexorable logic driving their characters. You are not invited here to Pass Judgement on their horrific ideals or moral behaviors; you are here to Bear Witness and hope they muddle through the Situation (capital intended) that they are about to be in. I like this.

Oh yeah. Immediate follow-up section of the fantasy. Gideon wants what she’s doing to MATTER to Harrow. Hers is not a fantasy in which Harrow is dead or deposed. Hers is a fantasy in which Harrow is comfortably in charge of things and receiving letters about Gideon’s exemplary success.

Interesting exposition on how only a select amount of Canaan House is accessible by default. A very specific section. This is a challenge.

And now Harrow is missing. Here we ought to note that Gideon only notices this because of how heavily she’s scrutinizing Harrow’s comings and goings, that she can notice no minute changes in Harrow’s bedsheets.

If “Harrow were the type (to run away) Gideon’s childhood would have been a hell of a lot smoother.” Okay. This is Interesting. Did Gideon think about cutting Harrow in on an escape plan at one point? If she tried 86 times, she must have thought to try this once. The incentives are there, for someone in Harrow’s position. I wonder if she got as far as voicing this idea to Harrow. I sense an AU point of divergence.

Big fan of the “their subsequent marriage” gag. I don’t remember if I’ve harped on this yet, but Gideon is a silent protagonist from the perspective of everyone in the story bar her own. To the extent that it is Gideon narrating, all of the commentary is for her own benefit. it’s just how she thinks. (I’m not sure if this is third person limited or not, there’s been a few spots where it felt like someone commenting on Gideon rather than Gideon’s internal monologue.) 

A brief detail in the prose search montage (which is very easy to visualize as a filmed sequence); the skeletons are cleaning the pool- the pool specifically, out of the entire massive complex- and neither Magnus or Jeanmary seem to understand why. But the space has been getting progressively less shitty over the last few chapters. How long is that door Gideon found going to go unremarked upon?

Once again, this focus on Gideon’s frustration at Harrow not THANKING Gideon. The written version of an old chestnut visual gag, wherein she  “gives up” and then immediately resumes the search in the next paragraph. The default behavior is to search.

So Gideon finds her way into a lobby space, accessible through an extremely unintuitive path. Even when this space was in use, this would have been a very roundabout way to get to what’s being framed as a very officious space, in comparison to the very residential space of the main living space. I’m a little unclear of the topography here, but I think Gideon is out of bounds.

Here we meet the Sixth House duo.  Ignore what I said above about everyone at Canaan house being dupes, maniacs or bastards; Palamedes and Camilla are the protagonists of a very different kind of YA story than Gideon. We’re looking at Holmes and Watson. Artemis and Butler. One of the meaner Doctors and more militant companions. Encyclopedia Brown and the girl he kept on hand to beat up his enemies (Am I remembering that detail right, that he had some muscle on hand at all times? Anyway. These are the kind of protagonists who start out within the system but then reason their way out from under their conditioning due to their Commitment To Higher Principles Like Truth, thus bringing the entire system crashing down. Inside the first few lines- “there’s a wrong thing here.” “Anything can lie.”

And, to scrutinize what he’s saying a little more- Canaan house is weird. The lack of rhyme and reason in the architecture is reflected in the age of the building- not even room by room, but down to the individual materials within one room. The oldest successful psychometric reading is 9000 years old; but if I recall correctly, this is after people supposedly stopped using Canaan house for anything. Both of Palamedes’s theories ring true; it’s possible that the building was fished out the garbage heap, or that it is lying on a molecular level. I’ve got a theory about what’s going on here, which I’ll get into at the end of this.

Camilla is the first woman Gideon gets the opportunity to fight. She’s attracted to Dulcinea- oh my god, the Dulcinea effect, Don Quixote, how did I not notice this earlier. She’s attracted to Coronabeth because Coronabeth is incredibly hot. Camilla, she seems to be attracted to on the basis of their mutual kickassery. The Canaan house dating sim has revealed its fourth candidate.

This is the second time we see a Necromancer in combat, after Harrow at the drill shaft. Palamedes’s stunt with the fuck-you-and-the-meat-you-walked-in-on kill field tells us three things. It gives us context for what a top-tier necromancer from another house looks like in a fight. It gives us context for how powerful Harrow is in comparison to everyone else- Palamedes is only sweating a little blood. And it gives us a sense of why Cavaliers are necessary; Palamedes couldn’t have executed this without Camilla keeping Gideon pinned down. As he says in a few lines- if he’d tried this solo, he’d probably be dead, and he couldn’t keep doing this in a protracted fight.

“Policy Wonks on the Sixth,“ huh. I’ve been wondering what the governance looks like in the rest of the Empire.

Because necromancers lived bad lives, he added: “To clarify. Her intravenous blood. Her intravenous blood.” I love this book. I feel inspired to draw this scene specifically.

Gideon hears that Harrow may have maybe lost some blood and into mom-lifting-a-minivan overdrive she goes. In this sequence we learn that Palamedes is a man with an extremely strong understanding of Necromancy and that Harrow is panicked enough that she works right past everything he’s saying. This is an example of a situation where the narration diverges from what Gideon is actually aware of; We the audience get some juicy tidbits about the ins and outs of necromancy, and we get a description of how much of it Gideon retained, but this is implicitly being reported by a third party.

This is the first time Gideon has spoken in like 6 chapters; she speaks to a pair of individuals utterly unconcerned with addressing the discrepancy, instead focusing on the task at hand. I like the looks of these guys.

Everyone was issued a key ring and told not to open any locked doors. Well. It’s not a locked door if you unlock it first, and then open it.

It’s never a good sign when a lab is soundproofed.

So Harrow is in a Bone Cocoon. Gideon says she can take it from here; Palamedes pointedly (and rightly!) ignores her and runs a medical test on Harrow to make sure she isn’t about to die. Here we get an interesting split between “Curative Science” and Necromancy; presumably, there’s some stuff in this setting that necromancy can’t obviate the way it did robotics, and it makes sense that “making people healthy” is one of those things. (as opposed to “keeping them alive-” Hi, Dulcinea!)

Her fantasies where she.... dumps Harrow off the landing pad. Yes, Gideon. This is what you want to internalize the sensation of lifting Harrow up for.

Probably worth noting that the exact manner in which the bone cocoon collapsed was of interest to Palamedes; Gideon derides him for whipping out a ruler, but Palamedes has been pretty firmly established as a guy who Knows His Shit (tm). Anything of minute interest to him is probably worth remembering.

The last line- “I thought that would wake her up-” really cements my read on Palamedes as a little shit but also a fundamentally good person, which Camilla shores up with the “He did this for free” line; her loyalty to him seems earned. These seem like people who help people; they belong in another, happier series, where they walk the earth as private investigators, righting wrongs. It also shows that he’s self-aware enough in his little-shittery to simultaneously work over all of the egos at play, while still indulging his little-shit instincts.

So anyway. Here’s a thought I had, have, and will continue to have, which started around chapter 8 but, with the tomfoolery of chapter 12, is now basically cemented; I think that Canaan House is heavily, heavily in conversation with, and providing criticism of, the worldbuilding of Harry Potter. You’ve got the Houses, politicking and jockeying- except there’s an in-built artificiality, religiosity and militarism to it that makes it parse as rancid immediately rather than on reflection as an adult. You’ve got the kooky, wise-but-elderly mentor who clearly knows more than he’s letting on, who pays special attention to the outcast- except, as I brought up in chapter 8, he’s doing this from such a clear position of incredible institutional power that the Dumbledore routine is impossible to take seriously, because he’s a face of whimsy plastered over something bad. You have the massive, nonsensical academy, simultaneously labyrinthine and homey- except that Gideon the Ninth is holding the premise of a space like Hogwarts to the fire. It feels too big for the student body because it is, there’s only about 20 people on the whole planet, and upkeep is obviously prohibitive, and people are offput and unnerved by the space, they ask the questions akin to asking about why Hogwarts was built with so many moving staircases and hazardous flora. Out of universe, Hogwarts, and the whole wizarding world, is a thinly-conceived nonsensical playground, painted with a veneer of deep history but really meant as a vehicle for the core cast to get up to whacky, unsanctioned misadventures, all of which are, within the universe, not supposed to be happening. I think the exact same thing is happening in Canaan House, but it’s diegetic. I think that the whole space was engineered from the ground up, relatively recently, by people who’ve read YA, for the express purpose of providing a sandbox in which stuff like Gideon’s excursion with the sixies can happen as the candidates grope towards Lyctorhood. This has the energy of an unsanctioned sortie but it’s clearly along the lines of what they were eventually intended to do, given the keys. There is so much artifice, to all of this- and we have enough context about this society to know that it’s a sinister artifice. The light at the end of this carefully constructed tunnel is almost certainly an oncoming train. 

[neechees]

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[viridiave]

ELDERS AND THE SEVEN DEADLY SINS

You guys seemed to really like that first braindump I dropped so uh- hey here’s another one hope you guys enjoy it-

<UNNAMED EDEN ELDER AND THE SIN OF PRIDE (Likely candidates- the Prince, the King)>

> Really it’s easy to see why this one is Pride- and arguably a combination of all sins if you choose to see it that way, seeing as Pride itself is the Original Sin. You could see this on the Eden mural as well, to some degree. Eating a ‘fruit of knowledge’ for all the Kingdom to see. Pride is described as a feeling of deep satisfaction for one’s achievements and capability- and as a sin, the pinnacle of self-importance and self-preservation, valuing oneself above all else.  While all of these traits are easily visible in the vague ‘king’ or ‘prince’ figure in the world of Sky, it would be easy to see where the root of this evil came from and that is evident in the state of Eden as well as their unsalvageable existence. ‘The Eden Elder is not around to be saved’.

> There is no clear interpretation for what exactly it was that the Eden Elder must have committed, but the consequences are apparent in the ruined, dilapidated state of the Kingdom some several years later. This Elder’s particular sin may be attributed to the power they’ve garnered as the Monarch of the Sky Kingdom, and a possible attempt at playing God (i.e. the Eden diamond).

> Eden is referred to as the ‘Original Sin’ in some concepts as well.

<AYIN THE PRAIRIE ELDER AND THE SIN OF SLOTH>

> The Prairie Elder is a bit of an easy guess as well- seeing as our first encounter with them involved waking them up from what we can only assume is an absurdly long nap akin to that of hibernation. The Prairie Elder is depicted as tired again when we meet them in Orbit. 

> Other possible interpretations regarding their sin of Sloth would be a negligence to fulfill their duties as the protector of light creatures, an inaction to prevent most of them from being shipped off and manufactured into power diamonds- or an inaction to take measures preventing the war that ravaged Wasteland.

<TETH THE FOREST ELDER AND THE SIN OF GREED>

> The Forest Elder’s sin isn’t quite the obvious guess and it is possible to be interpreted interchangeably between Lust and Wrath depending on the context- but typically their association with Greed can be seen in how the realm that she has sovereign over is constructed- being heavily associated with the Industrial Age and a technological boom. It’s commonly believed that the Forest Elder is the inventor of the Power Diamonds and because of this association it can be assumed that this where the Kingdom’s drive for large-scale manufacturing and pursuit of ease originated. 

> This sin can be subtly seen in their Elder cutscene- impatiently taking the flame off a child’s hands in order to fix their power diamond. In other words, taking the resources of others to use for their own gain. 

<SAMEKH THE VALLEY ELDERS AND THE SIN OF LUST>

> The Twins’ sin of Lust is not at all synonymous with the sexual aspect of it- but can also be interpreted as them simply indulging in all the various pleasures that life has to offer. In other words, they are hedonists- coveting the pursuit of pleasure and placing value in it compared to everything else. Taking into consideration their playful and otherwise relaxed nature compared to the other Elders and the fact that their realm is representative of society at its peak- where they have time to indulge in arts and sport-  it can be easy to draw the connections to the sin of Lust. 

> Lust may also be defined as coveting one’s own pleasures above the greater scheme of things- such as a duty to God. Lust is- by some definitions- love in excess, placing the worship of greater responsibilities second to their own desires. This manifests in the carefree way that the Twins act, and the thrill-seeking nature of their realm.

> The Twins are also privy to a variant of Gluttony due to the social discrepancies found in their realm, or even of Sloth and neglecting their duties as Elders in favor of leisure.

<TSADI THE WASTELAND ELDER AND THE SIN OF WRATH>

> The Wasteland Elder’s sin of Wrath is fairly easy to recognize and ascertain given that Golden Wasteland is a land rendered useless through possibly years of struggle and war. While Forest is the first place where we truly see the impacts of discord and a general disregard for consequence, Wasteland is the realm where we see that discord be elevated to such a degree that the land is reduced to a lifeless (save for an astounding amount of dark creatures), inhospitable place.

> Golden Wasteland itself can possibly represent two forms of Wrath- the more obvious side of it being Battlefield, but Wasteland itself was also a thriving diamond production site. It’s entirely possible for them to have razed an entire forest to the ground in order to make way for the aforementioned factories- experiencing a form of Wrath that is reserved for the ecosystem that might have existed there before. The factories themselves could also be taken as a source of Wrath- provoking feuds and discord among those who might have disagreed with the production of diamonds. 

> Through the second interpretation of Tsadi’s Wrath, it is also possible that he may represent Greed to some degree because of their large-scale manufacturing.

<LAMED THE VAULT ELDER AND THE SIN OF GLUTTONY>

> The Vault Elder’s sin of Gluttony is not an immediately discernible sin- and it is quite unclear what their insatiable hunger could have been other than their thirst for knowledge. Gluttony, in this case- may not have been referring to food at all, and may be substituted for knowledge. The Vault of Knowledge is one that stores presumably every single piece of knowledge about the Kingdom of Sky- and it is possible to interpret the Vault Elder’s collection as her accumulating a hoard of sorts. 

> Other possible interpretations of this Gluttony may incorporate the reason for the condemnation of the sin- and it is that by gorging, the prosperous may leave the needy hungry- leaving it possible that the Vault Elder may have consumed so much knowledge- seeking for so much knowledge that they have inevitably left the Kingdom in a state wherein their lack of knowledge may have led to their eventual deaths. Alternatively, because they hoard the forbidden knowledge to themselves, they have left the Kingdom without a solution to an ever-growing problem that culminated in the Kingdom’s downfall.

> The Vault Elder may also represent Lust (as in, a lust for knowledge) and Greed (through the same motions used to justify their Gluttony).

<DALETH THE ISLE ELDER AND THE SIN OF ENVY>

> The Isle Elder is left with the sin of Envy through a process of elimination, though it is likely that while they might have represented such once, it is also likely that the Isle Elder instead has become someone who rose above their sin- entirely dependent on how events may have played out for the Kingdom and what exactly his role was in its rise and fall.

> Envy may be described as the ‘desire to wish misfortune on others/ deprive others of their fortunes’- in one case, maybe the fortunes of one Eden Elder. Isle of Dawn is the birthplace of the Prophecy- and, consequently, the person who will reign superior over the Kingdom of Sky through conquering the Trials of the Elements. Assuming that the conqueror of those Trials was the Eden Elder themselves (as either the Prince or the King- or both of them, it depends), it is possible that the Isle Elder may have defected from that rule- from a premonition or otherwise simple malicious envy, it is uncertain. Envy tears a man away from his neighbor- and it is possible that this is the reason why the Isle Elder is not depicted on the gate to Eden. 

<THE SEVEN HEAVENLY VIRTUES>

LUST=CHASTITY* GLUTTONY=TEMPERANCE* GREED=CHARITY* SLOTH=DILIGENCE* WRATH=PATIENCE* ENVY=KINDNESS* PRIDE=HUMILITY

It’s pretty awkward trying to attach any one virtue to any one Elder not gonna lie- not because I don’t believe they can fit but really more so because the virtues themselves do not correspond to each brand of sin that the Elders represent. For example- no amount of Patience could have saved Tsadi from the destruction he’d wrought upon his realm, whether this is due to outside circumstances or his own personal grievances, nor would Charity necessarily be something that the Teth would covet as her Greed is more representative of the exponential growth in technological prowess that her realm (and by extension, the Kingdom) had gone through, as well as the consequences of such growth. Lamed is a strange case in that she seems to represent Gluttony and Temperance simultaneously- and the same could be said for Ayin and his Diligence. 

[zukkacore]

Whitewashing in AtlaLok: the Western & Christian Influence on s2 of LoK

Ok, so i’m not a big brained expert on all things indigenous or even all things asian but I do think bryke's christian & western worldview seeps so far into season 2 of LoK that i think out of every season it’s by far the most unsalvageable out of everything they’ve ever done in the Atlaverse and is a very insidious kind of whitewashing. I know that sounds hefty but here’s what I mean

For the record, I’m a mixed filipino person & while there is religious diversity among filipinos, more than i think ppl realize or that the catholic majority is willing to let on, when we were colonized a large percent of the population was indeed forced to convert to catholicism so that’s my background, & i don’t know everything about taoism or the what the tai chi symbol represents but the way Bryke westernize the concept of Yin and Yang is honestly… kinda bewildering. They get so many details about yin & yang wrong?? & Yes, it’s possible they could’ve been trying to create their own lore that differentiates itself from the traditional depictions of Yin & Yang, but in the end i think it doesn’t matter b/c the lore they invent is a very obviously western interpretation of the concept of “balance”.

The most important and honestly worst change they make is that concepts of “light” and “dark” are completely oversimplified and flattened to represent basically “good” and “evil” (which, the light and dark side are a bit more complex than representing just “peace/order vs. Chaos” like the show might imply but we don’t even have time for that, but is funny how they get the genders wrong. Like. Traditionally, light is usually coded masculine and dark is usually coded feminine, but never mind that, that’s just a tangent). This really simplifies the nuance of the s2 conflict and makes it a lot less interesting, not to mention just—misrepresents a very real religious philosophy?

And for the record, a piece of media going out of its way to do "the show, don’t tell" thing of stating in the text that “oh, light and dark are not the same thing as good vs. evil” without actually displaying that difference through the writing is just lip service, and its poor writing. A lot of pieces of media do this, but i think s2 of LoK is particularly egregious. The point of this philosophy of balance is that you aren’t supposed to moralize about which side is “good” or “bad”, or even really which one is “better” or “worse”. Even if the show states the concepts are not interchangeable, if the media in question continually frames one side (and almost always its “chaos/darkness”) as the “evil” side, then the supposed distinction between “light vs. dark” and “good vs. evil” is made moot. And besides the occasional offhand remark that implies more nuance without actually delivering, Vaatu is basically stock evil incarnate.

This depiction of conflict as “defeating a singular representation of total evil” isn’t solely christian, but it is definitely present in christian beliefs. And I think those kinds of stories can be done well, but in this case, in a world filled entirely of asian, Pacific Islander & inuit poc, to me it feels like a form of subtle whitewashing? B/c you’re taking characters that probably wouldn’t have christian beliefs, and imposing a christian worldview onto them. Not to mention removes what could have been an interesting conflict of any nuance and intrigue… and honestly, sucks, because I do think s2 has the bones of an interesting idea, mostly b/c there are potential themes that could’ve been explored—I know this b/c they were already explored in a movie that exists, and it’s name is Princess Mononoke! It has a lot of the same elements—tension between spirits and humanity, destruction of nature in the face of rapid industrialization, moral ambiguity where there are no easy or fast answers and both sides have sympathetic and understandable points of view. (Unsurprising b/c Miyazaki is Japanese & Japanese culture has a lot of influence from Buddhism, Taoism, Shintoism, etc)

Bryke’s western & christian worldview also totally seeps into the characterization of Unalaq, the antagonist of the season which is a real problem. I’m in the middle of rewatching s2 right now and what struck me is that….. Unalaq comes across kinda ecofash AND fundamentalist which is 1) seems like an odd combination but maybe it really isn’t? 2) i think is a really tacky choice considering that the water tribes take the majority of its inspiration from inuit and polynesian indigenous cultures.

I honestly forgot abt this but Unalaq gives this whole lame speech abt how the SWT & humans as a whole suck b/c of their lack of spiritual connection & it was really eerie to me b/c "humans are morally bankrupt and they must be wiped out/punished for their destruction of the environment" is total ecofash logic bc it blames all of humanity for damage caused by those in power—be they capitalists or whoever. It’s a worldview that blames the poor and powerless for something they have no say in, and has real eugenics undertones bc with every implication of culling, there has to be someone who appoints themself the job of culling—of who is and isn’t worthy of death.

This belief also struck me as......... kinda christian in it's logic as well which is WEIRD b/c once again........ their cultural inspirations are DEFINITELY not christian...... The whole "man is inherently evil and must spend their whole lifetime repenting/must face punishment for it’s wickedness" thing and the way that christianity treats humanity as born with original sin or inherently corrupt—as well as above or separate from nature are really stronger undertones in Unalaqs worldview....... which isn't really an indigenous way or thinking.

I'm generalizing of course but from what I have seen from the indigenous people who speak on this is that (feel free to point out or correct me if i’m mostly generalizing abt Native Americans and not other indigenous cultures & there are some differences here) is that while native tribes are not monolithic and do vary wildly, there are a lot of common threads and that reverence and respect toward nature and your surroundings is an important tenant of indigenous beliefs. (I specifically remember the hosts on All My Relations saying essentially that we humans are a part of nature, we are not separate from it, and humans are not superior to animals—I’m paraphrasing but that is the gist of it)

So, yeah, I think it’s just really distasteful to write an indigenous character who is characterized in a way that’s way more in line with a christian fundamentalist & wants to bring about a ragnarok style apocalypse end of the world when that isn’t really a tenant of our beliefs? (btw, the way the end of the world is framed is also kinda fucked up? If i were being charitable, I could say that maybe s2’s storyline is a corruption of the hindu depiction of the end of the world, but even that sounds mildly insulting for reasons I won’t get into b/c i am Not The Expert On Hinduism. I will say that once again, the framing of the concept is all wrong, the show views the idea of apocalypse through a very western lense)

To wrap this up, I think the depiction of Unalaq could *maybe* work b/c he is the antagonist, so someone who strays from the NWT cultural tradition in a way that makes his view of morality more black and white wouldn’t be a *horrible* idea for the bad guy of the season. Especially because the introduction of capitalism to the A:TLA universe could probably cause a substantial shifts to… idk, everything i guess, b/c capitalism is so corrosive. Like. Sometimes people are just traitors. I do think it would be interesting to portray the way capitalism manifests in a society without white christians. Like… I do think there are a lot of ways secular christianity and capitalism are interlinked. But Unalaq is not portrayed as an outsider, he’s portrayed as hyper-traditionalist in a way that’s vilified? I guess rightly so, he does suck, but it’s just hard to conceptualize how a person like Unalaq comes to exist in the first place. In the end, I don’t really think it makes sense, in a world without white people, I don’t really know where this introduction of black and white christian morality would even come from in the avatar world?

TL;DR, Bryke applying western christian morality & world views to non-white characters in a world where white people have NEVER existed to affect our beliefs is a subtle form of white-washing. It imposes simplified “good vs. evil” world-views & cultural beliefs onto its characters. Any attempt to represent or even just integrate our actual beliefs into the A:tla lore are twisted and misrepresented is a way that is disrespectful and saps out any nuance or intrigue from the story, and alienates the people its supposed to represent from recognizing themselves within the final product. And Finally, on a more superficial story level, these writing choices clashe with the already existing world of ATLA--and is honestly just poor world-building.

[phykios]

honesty and promise me, co-written with @darkmagyk [read on ao3]

“I’m in love,” Piper tells her when she shows up for another fitting. “Have you seen the new Beyonce video?”

“I heard the song.” Annabeth says, “isn’t that enough?”

“God, your whole play-acting thing is too far if you’re pretending to not like Beyonce.”

“I never said that.” Annabeth holds up her hands, “I like the song. But I did not see the video.”

“Well, when you see it, you’ll be in love too, but I will fight you.”

Piper could be scrappy in a fight. But Annabeth had been a champion fencer in high school.

“Kidding!” Piper says at her look. “There’s plenty of them to go around.” She didn’t even start to drape fabric over Annabeth, pushing her onto a muslin covered couch, and then pulling the video on the TV. She didn’t have one of those voice control devices. Because she was friends with Leo, and he was pretty firm on them being evil. “But I do call dibs on the main guy. The CALVES. The thighs. He’s unreal.”

“That good?” Piper went all ways, though as of late she gravitated towards women more often than not, so this was some high praise indeed. 

“Unreal, I am telling you. Like, the hand of God came down and sculpted him personally out of marble.”

Already in her recent watch history, the thumbnail of the video greets them, the song title splashed across the TV screen, weaving between  a very, very familiar set of legs. 

Like, intimately familiar. 

In something of detached horror, she watches the camera pan up, lovingly lingering on every inch of bare skin, following the muscles of his calves (which were unreal) to his knees then his thighs (which Annabeth had spent almost too much time between now), up his torso and his chest (which she knew made for an excellent pillow) to Percy’s face, set in a firm, hard stare. 

And that fucking blue lipstick again. 

She can’t even focus on Beyonce herself, too distracted by the way her hand traces the length of Percy’s outstretched thigh held in perfect arabesque as she gracefully drapes herself over him, crooning softly into his ear.

Annabeth should do that next time. That’s her spot, after all. 

Tearing her eyes away from the screen even as Piper watches, enraptured, she slips out her phone, sending a quick, furious text. 

annabeth: BEYONCE???????

A minute, then he responds. 

percy: oh lol i didn’t realize that came out today 😁

percy: what’d you think?

annabeth: i think im going to kill you later

“Just look at him,” Piper says, pausing on Percy’s form, his arms outstretched, fingers placed delicately around a bar. “I mean--look at him!”

“Yeah,” she chuckles, maybe a little uneasy. “He’s alright I guess.”

Incredulous, Piper swivels her head. “Alright? Alright? Do you need your eyes checked?”

She just shrugs. 

Why is she being so weird about this? It’s just Piper. She’s trained to find symmetry and beauty in bodies. They’ve happily shared crushes and fixations plenty of times before, so why is Annabeth being so weird about Percy? It’s not like they’re… you know… dating or anything. Just hooking up a bit. 

Piper squints at her, then shrugs herself. “Fine. I don’t have time to get an answer out of you anyway. Come on.”

“Speaking of time,” Annabeth says, following Piper back into the kitchen studio, “I have to head out by 6:30.”

“Oh yeah?” Piper’s head is buried in her belt box, searching for the perfect accent. “What for?”

“I’ve got a show to catch.”

“Kind of early,” she says, pulling out something thin and silver. “Don’t you usually meet Thalia at the ass crack of midnight?”

“Well I kind of want to eat first.”

“Okay.” She cinches the belt around her waist, tight. “Then you’re going to have to help me with this skirt.”

***

Hands aching from hours of macrame, Annabeth walks up to the box office window at the Koch Theater at 7:46, having a handful of second thoughts. 

Old, uppity white couples keep shooting her some particularly intense passive aggressive glares, some of them even venturing into actually aggressive territory, which usually wouldn’t even register on her very short list of things to care about, except that she is feeling woefully out of place. The lady in front of her has ten pounds of diamonds hanging off of each old, wrinkly ear, and the best Annabeth could do was fish out her least-ripped pair of jeans, pairing it with one of her nicer black shirts, the sleeves long enough to cover most of her tattoos. The macrame kept her longer than she had meant, so she didn’t have time to change before dinner, but fuck it, right?

She did also take out most of her face jewelry on the way. But she left the nose stud, obviously. And the tongue piercing. And the industrial, because Percy really likes those, so she doesn’t feel that bad about it. And he hadn’t even told her about this until after she had already given herself the half-undercut, so it’s not like she could do anything about that either.

“Can I help you?” At least this box office worker isn’t giving her the stink-eye. 

“I’m here to pick up a ticket? Should be under ‘Jackson.’” He’d offered to leave it under her name, but this was safer. She doesn’t think her mom is a big ballet person, but she isn’t about to risk it, either.

She slides the ticket towards Annabeth beneath the glass plane. “Enjoy the show,” she says, with a quirk of her mouth that is surprisingly sincere for someone in customer service. 

She’s pretty sure she’d enjoy the show more if she weren’t panicking thinking about getting dirt on their fancy carpets. Her boots are clean, of course, and she doesn’t really care, but she doesn’t want to, like, embarrass Percy or whatever. She’d asked him if she should dress up, but he’d assured her otherwise. “No one’s going to care, I promise,” he’d told her the night before, her lounging in his bed while he did some pushups. “And if anyone says something, let me know and we can kick their ass after the show together.”

“Great. Guess I don’t have to break out the Chanel, then.”

He’d paused, frowned, then huffed a laugh, shaking his head. Like the idea of Annabeth wearing Chanel was hilarious. Like what she’s wearing tonight really is the best that she can do.

Self-consciousness isn’t really a feeling that Annabeth has anymore. She’s spent so many years chafing against expectations, shucking them off when she inevitably failed to meet them, desperate for a place, a crowd where she could just be. In her scene, she doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone, and when Percy is out with her, he doesn’t need any convincing. He likes her. He likes her a lot, she thinks. He likes her enough to let himself be dragged out to every shitty dive bar and shittier rock show in New York City, laughing and cheering and holding her close the whole time. He likes her enough to cart her to his apartment at 4 AM, inevitably waking Nico up from his undead slumber, and leave her with nothing but a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead. And she likes him, too--a lot. Annabeth likes Percy enough to ditch her band t-shirts for a night and track mud on the carpet of the Koch Theater and willingly sit through a performance of fucking Swan goddamn Lake of all things, and it’s only a little scary how much she is willing to do for him after only a few months of fucking him. Because this really isn’t her scene, not anymore. 

The weight of everyone’s stares bears down on her, threatening to crush her beneath them, a feeling she was so sure she’d left behind. 

At least Percy had been thoughtful enough to get her a ticket out of the way in the back of one of the balcony sections. It’s a bit of a hike, but the audience members aren’t dressed quite as nicely as the ones downstairs, and she feels like she can breathe a little easier.

She pulls out her phone, checking her text messages on instinct. There’s a selfie from Percy in his stage makeup (and she’s not going to lie… he looks fucking pretty), with his standard accompanying three blue heart emojis. She can’t help it, her heart skips a beat and she can’t help but smile, even as she rolls her eyes. She’s just about to send him something appropriately sarcastic when another text notification slides in. It’s from her father. 

Hi Annabeth… I was talking to a friend in Boston who said he's looking for a new 

prospective in his architecture firm. Passed your information along. 

Love you, dear

She swipes it away. Deletes the whole text conversation, for good measure. 

Forget about him. This night is about Percy.

A few minutes later, so engrossed in Percy’s program bio (it’s about all she can focus on right now), she doesn’t even notice everyone around her leaning forward in breathless anticipation, until the warm, honey-like sound of the oboe draws her head up. 

Roughly two minutes in, she’s really wishing she had attempted the synopsis. The extent of her knowledge of Swan Lake is a few half-remembered orchestra rehearsals in her teens and reading the Wikipedia article on that Natalie Portman movie a few months ago, and she definitely doesn’t recall there being anything about any Men-in-Tights looking motherfuckers prancing around. They’re sort of bobbing, back and forth, elegantly stepping from one side of the stage to another. Even from back here, she can see the delicate, precise placement of their hands, fingers curved just so, moving through space as though they aren’t bound by the laws of physics.

The fingers, she remembers. She could never get the hang of the fingers. Her old ballet teacher had given up on them after a week, and that had been the beginning of the end for that particular extracurricular. 

Now her fingers tap on her jeans, impatient, far faster than the easy going music on stage. She’s just about to give in to the millennial instinct and pull out her phone, maybe play a round of sudoku, when the dancers motion as one to the back corner, and Percy comes stepping out. His hair is perfectly slicked back, gelled down, any hint of curl beaten into submission, and his smile is small, but white, gleaming against the tanned brown of his skin. She can’t help but smile back, like he could somehow see her. Finally, she thinks, relaxing a little more into her seat. Something to watch.

On his off days, her off days, any day when she would spent the night at his (always at his, never at hers) and wake up wrapped in his comforter and the smell of seawater, she would take the blanket with her and steal into his living room, curl up on his couch with her feet tucked under her legs, and watch him dance. She’s seen him drill these sequences over, and over, and over again, counting furious sequences of sixes and eights beneath his breath in duet with the thuds of his feet on his floor. Most times he would notice her and shoot her a grin, granting her permission to observe the artist at work. Sometimes, though, he would be so caught up in his body, the shifting of his feet and the music in his head, that it was like he couldn’t see her at all. Seemingly alone, he would dance, uninhibited, and she would be struck by a feeling that she usually reserves for specific monuments. Watching Percy dance in his apartment, in his brown tights and black tank top, lost in his own world, is like looking at pictures of the Gateway Arch, or the Hoover Dam, or the Parthenon.

She searches for that feeling now, leaning forward in her seat, eyes hungrily raving his form, but she just doesn’t see it. It’s… honestly, it’s a little boring. She won’t lie. He had warned her it would be something of a slow start, but this isn’t exactly an ADHD friendly medium, and she is losing her patience, just a bit. He’s so reserved, like he’s holding something close to his chest, impersonal as he takes the hands of the female dancers and lets them twirl around him. 

Personally, Annabeth thinks that he looks kind of lost. Maybe he’s just nervous--it’s a big role and he’s a young guy. But he had seemed fine when he’d kissed her goodbye just after lunch. 

The court jester is killing it though. Feeling just the slightest bit guilty, she lets her eyes drift over to him, deciding to watch him for a while instead.

On some level, she does appreciate the skill on display here. Percy can raise his back leg in a perfect ninety degree angle that would make her architecture professors sweat. The girls drift back and forth across the stage on the tips of their toes, weightless and ethereal. It’s mesmerizing, and she lets herself be mesmerized.

Time must slip away from her, because she blinks and all of a sudden the stage has gone from sunny yellow to cool blue, the crowds of dancers having vanished. He is alone on stage. Percy kneels in a deep lunge that makes her thighs ache just looking at him (and for… other reasons), his arms and his attention pointed to the wings, with a… Annabeth squints. When the hell did he get a crossbow?

But everything is swept to the sides when the White Swan tiptoes her way on stage, impossibly graceful, and all of a sudden, Annabeth gets it. 

It feels a little cliche to say, but the way that woman moves on the floor really does remind her of those old, vintage jewelry boxes, suspended in animation, moved by some otherworldly force. It’s amazing. It’s a little terrifying. Sublime is the word that comes to mind as Annabeth watches her. Her arms move with fluidity, perfect curves, her fingers trailing behind her like wings. 

And Percy is just as mesmerized as Annabeth is. As the audience is. 

A few things hit her, in rapid succession. First, that Percy is, actually, a really good actor. His reticence before--he’d been playing a character. He’d been playing aloof and reserved and unmoored, because Percy--Siegfried--whatever--has been waiting his whole life for something to fulfill him, until this singular moment, the moment he laid eyes on this beautiful creature. Second, that she doesn’t need words to understand what’s going on. It’s all there, in every look and gesture and step, as the two characters circle each other, slowly but irrevocably falling in love. And third, that she recognizes the look on his face. It’s the look that Percy gives her when she has been talking for too long and he can’t get a word in edgewise, or when she screams along to the god awful underground bands, three beers in and missing every single fuck she’d ever had, or when she wakes up after him to Percy’s arms around her waist, her hair in his mouth and her head resting against his collarbone. She recognizes it, because that’s the look that Siegfried has for Odette. Because that’s the look that Percy has for Annabeth. Because he loves her.

And fourth, that that doesn’t make her as happy as she wishes it would. 

There’s a cold pit in her stomach for the rest of the show, a turning screw that twists in deeper, minute by minute, with every turn of the dancers. She wastes the next hour trying to puzzle this out, not even pretending to watch the drama unfolding on stage, because it makes no goddamn sense. (Her situation, not the ballet--she managed to skim the synopsis during intermission, her foot tapping incessantly against the blessedly empty seat in front of her.) Things are great between them. It’s been a heady, intoxicating four months, full of bubbles and butterflies, sweet, soft mornings, and some really, really phenomenal sex. This should make her happy. This should put her over the fucking moon, and she cannot, for the life of her, figure out why it doesn’t.

The prima ballerina comes back out as the Black Swan, just as poised and precise as her counterpart, but she’s a great actress as well, because there is something undeniably different about her. Her arms move like rubber, like joints are just an afterthought, wrapping themselves around Percy’s neck and shoulders. She misdirects his attention, drawing his eyes to her wrists, her clavicle, the curve of a leg or the point of her toe. Seducing him. Tricking him. 

Like Annabeth. 

Because try as she might to run from it, Annabeth isn’t who she says she is. She wants so desperately to be this fuck-the-rules, fight-the-power, punk rock princess that she took every part of her that didn’t fit that image and tried to rip it out of her, bloody and struggling. Her trust fund, her two (two!) Harvard degrees, her enriched childhood and her bright and shining future; she took it all out back and shot it, and prayed that would be the end of it. She’s a phony, just like that goddamn Black Swan. Percy is in love with a phony. 

Her sweet, wonderful, devastatingly kind and handsome Percy--she tricked him and made him fall in love with a mishmash of archetypes and aesthetics, distracting him with nose piercings and ripped t-shirts and ugly, deafening noise. 

She’s not surprised that she’s crying when the curtain falls. She’d never known that Siegfried and Odette both died at the end. 

When the cast reunites for curtain call, Percy is given a standing ovation, and Annabeth enthusiastically joins in, wiping the tears from her eyes, smearing her makeup. 

She doesn’t wait for him at the stage door, but sits on the steps of the theater, plucking at her sleeves, aching for a drink and wishing she had had the presence of mind to wear something a little nicer. Percy finds her there almost an hour after the show ended. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

In the dark of night, illuminated only by streetlamps, she can’t read his face--but she can read exhaustion, in every part of his body. “I was waiting for you by the stage door.”

Something in her stomach goes cold. “I… wasn’t sure if I was allowed,” she offers, weakly. 

He smiles, a light in the dark. “Of course you’re allowed,” he says, offering her a hand. “Shall we?”

She knows what will happen next. She’ll take his hand, and they’ll walk to the subway together, fingers intertwined. They’ll get on the 1 train headed north, and Percy will let her rest her head against him, tilting his head back against the window, eyes closed, almost asleep. The doorman will nod at them as they walk up to Nico’s apartment, barely batting an eye at his sweats and her ripped jeans, the two of them sticking out like a sore thumb in a sea of impeccably dressed rich New Yorkers. Nico will wave at them distractedly from his office, gulping down his sixth coffee of the night, and they’ll tiptoe into his room, falling asleep in each other’s arms with little more than a good night kiss. 

Which, of course, is exactly what does end up happening.

Almost. 

Annabeth crawls on top of him in his bed, kissing him soft and senseless. She doesn’t know where he’s getting this energy from, but she is not complaining as he slips up inside of her, the two of them rocking each other gently to orgasm, their foreheads pressed together. Shuddering as he comes, he captures her mouth in another kiss, pouring every ounce of love he has in him into her.

A waste, honestly. 

But as far as goodbye sex, it’s pretty damn great. 

She needs to end this, before either of them get hurt. It’s the least of what he deserves, after all. To put yourself out there, to offer yourself up like that, that might be the bravest thing Annabeth’s ever heard of, and surely, Annabeth can find the courage to do what needs to be done.

[passionate-reply]

This week on Passionate Reply: We all know “Don’t You Want Me,” but the early Human League is a totally different beast, featuring a different line-up, and songs about killer clowns and wanting to be a skyscraper, on their debut LP, 1979′s Reproduction. Transcript below the break!

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums. In this installment, we’ll be investigating one of the most surprising debut LPs around: The Human League’s Reproduction, first released in 1979.

Pretty much anyone with a general understanding of Western pop will already know the name of the Human League, and associate them, rightfully, with their early 80s hits like “Don’t You Want Me.” For many, the Human League were the first genuine synth-pop that they had ever heard, and their work in the 1980s has been immeasurably influential in bringing the notion of electronic pop into the mainstream. But before they were hitmakers and game-changers, the Human League were a very different band.

Music: “Being Boiled”

“Being Boiled” was the first thing the Human League would ever press to wax, way back in 1978. In most respects, this track is everything that “Don’t You Want Me” is not: its pace is languid, its structure is shapeless and meandering, and rather than a simple and relatable love story, its lyrics offer us a strange and opaque condemnation of the tortures endured by silkworms during textile production. While fascinating, and endearing in its own morbid way, “Being Boiled” does not exactly scream “hit record.” The Human League were not only a different band in a stylistic sense, but also with respect to their personnel, driven by a creative core comprised of budding synthesists Martyn Ware and Ian Craig Marsh. Prior to the release of the breakthrough album Dare, Marsh and Ware would abandon the group over creative differences, and go on to form Heaven 17 instead. It was vocalist Phil Oakey, and producer Martin Rushent, who would create the sound that their name is now so strongly associated with, and this early incarnation of the group is probably best thought of as an entirely different entity. This album, Reproduction, was their first full-length release, and is perhaps the best introduction to their pioneering sound.

Music: “Circus of Death”

“Circus of Death” had appeared as the B-side to “Being Boiled,” and was included once more as the second track on *Reproduction.* It has a lot in common with the other track it accompanied: a plodding pace, a dark and obtuse lyrical theme, and a sparse, fully electronic instrumentation. The Human League were among the first British groups to utilize a totally electronic sound, devoid of any traditional instruments besides the voice, though in this underground and more experimental context, it doesn’t present a threat to the status quo of pop the way that Dare would a few years later. Alongside fellow proto-industrial acts associated with "the Sound of Sheffield," like Clock DVA and Cabaret Voltaire, they dwelt on the fringes of good taste, crafting subversive music for subversive people. “Circus of Death” introduces us to a demonic figure called “the Clown,” who controls, and torments, human beings by use of a drug called “Dominion,” in a scenario that sounds a bit like Huxley’s Brave New World. It’s worth remembering that while younger generations are quick to think of clowns as icons of evil and terror, clowns were unironically beloved as bringers of joy for most of the 20th Century, and these early portrayals of clowns as killers were indeed shocking at the time. Preceding “Circus of Death,” and opening the album, is “Almost Medieval,” a track with some similar themes, but a rather different composition.

Music: “Almost Medieval”

While “Circus of Death” is slow and dirgelike, “Almost Medieval” showcases the more aggressive side of *Reproduction.* It opens the album with a starkly simplistic tick-tocking beat, reminiscent of an unaccompanied metronome, before bursting into its punk-like sonic assault--a musical representation of how seemingly predictable and deterministic machines can also create something outrageous and unexpected. The lyrics of this track seem pointed towards the past, with the narrator exclaiming that they “feel so old,” and as if they’ve died many times before. Juxtaposed against the thoroughly modern setting of an airport with tarmacs and jet engines, it might be taken as an expression of the horror a person from the past might feel if they were shown the world of the future, created by capitalism and high technology. While it isn’t very accurate, we have a tendency to think of the “Medieval” world as a barbaric, unclean, and uncivilized era, full of witch hunts, chastity belts, and the deliberate erasure of “ancient wisdom.” “Almost Medieval” turns that idea on its head, suggesting that perhaps our world is the one that’s truly barbaric. The image of its narrator, “falling through a rotting ladder,” can be taken as a rejection of the notion of a “ladder” of progress. Similar themes of open-ended symbolism, and the sorrow of modernity, can be found on “Empire State Human.”

Music: “Empire State Human”

Like “Almost Medieval,” “Empire State Human” is lively and faster-paced, with driving percussion. With its straightforward rhymes and repetitive structure, it readily encourages the listener to sing along, almost as if joining in some sort of ritual chant. It’s an idea that Marsh and Ware would return to in their Heaven 17 days, with tracks like “We Don’t Need This Fascist Groove Thang.” “Empire State Human” was the album’s only single, and thanks to this exposure, and its (relative) palatability compared to the rest of their catalogue, it remains one of the best known tracks from the early Human League. “Empire State Human” makes its concept pretty clear, with less ambiguous lyrics and an easy to follow mix that brings Oakey’s voice to the fore: the narrator wishes to become a building, and a mighty skyscraper no less, which might rival the achievements of the Pyramids of the ancient Egyptians. While it is clear that that’s what the song’s about, what we do with this once again high-concept subject matter is up to us. I like to think that this is some kind of perverse commentary on the unnatural and alienating experience of urban living, which may come with the feeling that the concrete and rebar structures that surround us are more significant to our lives than the people who may live or work in them. City life is addressed more directly by the track “Blind Youth.”

Music: “Blind Youth”

“Blind Youth” is probably the most “grounded” track on the album, in terms of its theme, making pointed remarks about “dehumanization” and “high-rise living.” It’s tempting to think of it as a sort of parallel to “Empire State Human,” with a broadly similar musical backdrop, and a more literal expression of the theme hinted at more obliquely by “Empire State Human.” With its focus on the experiences of the titular “youth,” “Blind Youth” can also be contrasted with “Almost Medieval,” whose narrator keens about feeling old. Where “Almost Medieval” deals with the disgust an older person feels at the decrepit state of the human race, “Blind Youth” shows the demented, unthinking joy of the youth, who have grown up in an industrialized and urbanized world, and don’t know different--or better.

While there have been many classic underground albums whose covers aimed to shock and displease polite society, the cover of Reproduction is one of the few that I feel would still be seen as offensive, over 40 years later. It was allegedly the product of a miscommunication between the group and the illustrator commissioned to create it; the band requested a scene in which people are dancing above a ward of babies in glass-topped incubators, and the striking angle, which seems to show people crushing infants underfoot, is an unintentional aspect of the design. Unintentional or not, this crudely violent aspect dominates the final composition, and lends it vileness and immediacy. Like the lyrics of many of the songs, the combination of the cover and title can be interpreted a number of ways. Perhaps it’s a glib commentary on human reproduction as fun and games: we partake in the “dance” of courtship and sexuality, and babies drop beneath our feet. Or perhaps it suggests a contrast between life’s enjoyments, like dancing, and its stressors, like the responsibilities of parenthood. It’s hard not to see so many crying, seemingly distressed infants without becoming upset oneself, and I think the deep instinctual revulsion that this piece inspires is part of why it’s remained so resonant in its subversiveness.

As I mentioned in my introduction, the Human League have gone down in history chiefly for the music they made later, which has largely buried this early period as part of their legacy--at least in the public eye and outside of the dedicated diggings of motivated enthusiasts. If you’re a fan of what you’ve heard from this album, you’ll probably enjoy their 1980 follow-up Travelogue, as well as their EP, Holiday ‘80. Given the emphasis on long-form albums among music aficionados, EPs and their exclusive tracks are quite frequently missed, but Holiday ‘80 is a gem from this short-lived line-up, featuring the fragile “Marianne” as well as a cover of the stadium favourite “Rock ‘N’ Roll,” made famous by Gary Glitter. Thumbing its nose at everything the culture of “rock and roll” stands for, and transposing this hymn to its greatness into an abrasive and sterile lunar landscape of synths, this is one of my favourite covers of all time, and seems to prefigure how a very different Human League would later become the archnemesis of all that rock fans held holy. It was also one of very few tracks to be performed on Top of the Pops, and subsequently see not a rise, but a drop in the singles charts!  

Music: “Rock ‘N’ Roll”

My favourite track on Reproduction is one that appears on its second side, unlike the other tracks I’ve talked about so far: “Austerity / Girl One.” Side Two of Reproduction is mainly focused on longer and more narrative-driven tracks, and this is no exception. Like the opener of the second side, “Austerity / Girl One” is a medley, albeit one of two pieces that are original compositions and not covers, as medleys usually are. This track’s story is both timeless and modern, a bit like a contemporary King Lear: the “Austerity” half deals with an aging father, incapable of understanding his children, dying alone and ignored, while the “Girl One” half puts us in the mindset of his daughter, a New Woman whose life is hectic, but also bleak. It’s a story that many of us will relate to, about people who try their best with what they’ve got, but still feel as though they’ve failed in life. Its simple, but effective musical backdrop of wan synth pulses allows the narrative, and Oakey’s evocative portrayal of it, to take center stage. That’s everything for today, thanks for listening.

Music: “Austerity / Girl One”

[thebibliomancer]

Archaia’s Jim Henson’s The Dark Crystal Age of Resistance #10

The Journey into the Mondo Levidian Part 2

The true untold tale of All-Maudra Mayrin’s inaugural adventure!

Well, untold in the show. Comic is telling plenty.

In part one, Mayrin becomes All-Maudra and has plenty of unresolved mother issues and insecurity about it. Her first crisis is the growing Sifan separatist movement which threatens to shatter Gelfling solidarity and make her more of a Most-Maudra. She charters a ride with Captain Kam’Lu to go speak to the separatist leader Fenth but the ship goes and sinks.

So far we’ve had a journey so far but not into or Mondo Levidian. We probably should get around to that soon. There’s only three issues left.

So let’s get started!

When the ship sank, Mayrin jumped overboard to save Kam’Lu. Now they’re stranded in the middle of the ocean on a raft.

Mayrin is insistent that they try to find and save the crew of the Scalene Anchor and also Dot. Kam’Lu is equally insistent that No That’s A Terrible Idea. They have no food, no water, and no hope of survival unless they’re lucky enough to find land. They’re in no position to rescue anyone else. Plus...

There are political considerations.

Kam’Lu: “If the other clans believe the Sifans killed the All-Maudra, we’ll never be trusted again.”

He also mentions that Fenth predicted that THIS EXACT SITUATION might happen if the All-Maudra intervened in the Sifan separatist movement.

Huh.

Speaking of Fenth, the plot cuts over to him for a bit.

He learns of the sinking the Scalene Anchor and the presumed death of the New-All-Maudra and thinks hey, its free real estate.

High Councilor Fenth: “That means... There’s no one in line for the All-Maudra’s throne! The seat is vacant!”

skekSa: “How... fortunate! Haha! Ha! Haha! You wanted autonomy for the Sifans! Freedom from the greedy hands of the Vapra clan, yes? That is why honored me with this grand tithing -- to enlist my immortal aid? I am the only one who is sympathetic to your cause. That is why the Skeksis are here. To help Gelfling lead...!”

Call it a shot in the dark but I feel like skekSa was involved in the suspicious sea monster sinking of the Scalene Anchor.

Of course, she’ll probably get away with it. It’d spoil the surprise too early if a Skeksis was caught doing an evil scheme.

Also, look at the ambition on Fenth. Grows up in a matriarchy where clan leaders are always women, where the word for clan leader means ‘clan mother’ and thinks to himself ‘psssh i can do that.’ Good on him. Dream big, guy.

Back over with our mismatched comedy duo, as all Dark Crystal stories must have, Mayrin and Kam’Lu have some mismatched comedy duo banter.

Like her criticizing him for not being able to find land despite being a captain of a ship. And then immediately spotting land while he’s indignantly defending his credentials.

Or her maligning his swimming abilities since he fell off a boat and got knocked unconscious and had to be saved from drowning by her.

So he decides to turn this into a swimming contest, winner gets to be All-Maudra.

Good fun.

Just how I like my Gelfling buddy comedies.

Of course, its all fun and games until the island turns out to be a sea monster that eats them.

And it turns out that the island is a sea monster that eats them.

A mondo levidian, if I had to guess.

Giant turtles passing as landscape. Giant monsters being mistaken for islands. This comic series is too good to me.

So the two slide down the mondo levidian’s throat (gross) MANAGING TO BICKER ON THE WAY DOWN!

Kam’Lu: “Don’t you have wings?!”

Mayrin: “They don’t work well when they’re wet!”

Amazing.

They slide and slorp and flump all the way down to presumably the stomach.

But as they stop to rest, they realize they’re not alone.

Sulub: “Yer some kinda fishie-fish I ain’t ever seen! Betchur tasty! Anyway! No wrigglin’ while I kill ya good!”

OH MY GOD

This comic series is too good to me.

Look at this delightful podling crabtaur.

Once Kam’Lu proves immune to Sulub’s “advanced technology” (ie Sulub stabs Kam’Lu in the foot with a spear), the podcrab agrees to take the two Gelfling to see his village elder.

Sulub actually assumes that Mayrin and Kam’Lu are married and here on honeymoon at the thriving fish digestive system tourism industry I guess. Mayrin claims that Kam’Lu is just a fool and her servant (and Kam’Lu doesn’t speak Podling very well so has no idea about this) and introduces herself as the All-Maudra.

Sulub: “ALL-MAUDRA! The legendary All-Maudra! Well, why didn’t ya say so! Sulub is gilltickled and downright honored to lead ‘the all-powerful and all-knowing’ All-Maudra to our home. You’ll be enjoyin’ to know we’ve kept care of your most regal gifts! Still in pristine condition for havin’ come in a while ago!”

The gut city of Bajula has a statue of the previous All-Maudra, one apparently commissioned when Mayrin was baby.

Huh.

Well. Its helpful to Mayrin that they know about the All-Maudra and are excited to have her here. And that they’re assuming that she sent the statue ahead of herself, like luggage.

Sulub tours Mayrin and Kam’Lu around Bajula. Showing them the goo farms, the visitor center, the fermented... milk wine bar.

The king shows up and is disappointed that the Gelfling want to leave so soon into their visit and asks if Sulub even bothered to show them the goo farms!

But since Mayrin insists that they have important outside stuff to do outside, the king decides to rush through some exposition.

These podling crabs? They’re called Boblings.

Bobling King: “Thousands of trine ago, my tribe set out to explore the Silver Sea as proud, stalwart Podlings! Our regal forefathers were not known to swim, but their bravery was unmatched, and they set out to conquer everything they discovered! All those who would get in their way would be destroyed by the might of the Podlings! Yet there are creatures in this world that are mightier, and the Mondo Leviadin emerged from the Silver Sea and devoured their ships. Thousands of digestive cycles passed as we changed to better suit our new home. Our new world.”

An unstoppable army of Podlings sounds funny until you remember how awesome Hup is. The Mono Levidian may have spared the peoples of Thra a tragic fate.

Also, I’m a big impressed at the lack of linguistic drift. Thousands of trine and Bobling language is indistinguishable from Podling and Gelfling is still recognizable.

Kam’Lu gets fed up with the Bobling King and starts yelling that he’s cold, he’s hungry, he doesn’t want to be in a fish’s guts! Mayrin manages to convince the king by speaking of duty.

Bobling King: “You speak of duty. I know it well. As a leader of my kind, I would do anything for their survival. So yes, I will help you and your servant. Why you married him, I will never know.”

Kam’Lu: “Her what? We’re what?!”

Hah, that misunderstanding is paying dividends.

The king explains that the levidian only surfaces to feed once per trine and that it stays near the surface for a time after feeding.

So if Mayrin and Kam’Lu don’t get to the porticol (blowhole) within eight or so intestinal groans (.... hours??), they’ll be stuck until next trine.

WHICH IS GOING TO BE REAL BAD FOR MAYRIN’S CAREER.

Even though the Boblings are but a simple goo-farming people, the king sends his daughter Gunda, the most skilled hunter in Bajula, to escort them.

Gunda: “But father, the journey as never been done by a single Bobling. You send me into certain danger!”

King: “And do you not crave danger?! My daughter, you are the only one capable and brave enough to undertake such a quest! Please! A duty for your king!”

Gunda: “So be it. I will guide you to the porticol, but know that it is dangerous and uncharted. There are many creatures that call this place home. We must be vigilant. Stalwart. Like my podling ancestors!”

This is a fun little bit because it implies a life and experiences and that these Boblings haven’t just been sitting waiting for protagonists to show up. I mean, they also have been doing that. They have a visitor center set up. But they’ve been living their own dramas.

And off they go! Mayrin, Kam’Lu, and Gunda! On a grand journey to a giant sea monster’s blowhole!

Wait, is this thing a mammal?

So that’s issue 2.

We’re finally in the Mondo Levidian. And now all the protagonists want is to get out. So we’ve got the title, we’ve got an objective, we’ve got some fun side cast, we’ve got a ticking clock before Mayrin and Kam’Lu have to look at the sea monster gut apartment listings, and we’ve got some outside stakes!

Mayrin continues to impress. There’s even a moment right when Kam’Lu rouses after the shipwreck where he seems in awe of her confidence in a crisis.

Kam’Lu has his own personality now that’s not parroting Fenth. Its being a butt monkey, with a slight shade of being a little shit. Between Mayrin giving him shit for supposedly being bad at sailor stuff to getting stabbed in the foot by Boblings twice to being mistaken for Mayrin’s servant-husband, Kam’Lu is having a trying adventure. Plus his ship sank and all of his friends may be dead and if they fail to escape the Mondo Levidian, he’ll go down in history as the idiot that got an All-Maudra killed.

Poor guy.

Gunda has only had two pages to shine and she seems endearing! But it feels weird that Sulub isn’t coming along. He’s the introductory Bobling and all. But I guess speaking only Podling would be an impediment to interacting with Kam’Lu. Still, its weird that he just seems to fade out of the story once the king shows up.

Farewell, Sulub, you funky crab potato.

[avengerscompound]

Running to a Standstill - 5

Running to a Standstill: A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x F!Reader

Word Count:  1939

Rating:  E

Square filled: none for this chapter

Warnings: none

Synopsis: While on the run from an unknown organization trying to take your son, you meet two super-soldiers.  While they try to help you get to the bottom of who is hunting you and your son, feelings come out and admissions are made that make your personal life even more tricky.

Chapter 5

It had been a long time since Steve had had to share his space.  Even in the army, he’d ended up with his own quarters after he’d agreed to go on the USO tour.  Now there were bras hanging on a rack in the bathroom to dry.  Toys all over his floor and his fridge was full of things like go-gurt and applesauce that came in satchels.  It was a lot to get used to, but he was enjoying it.  He liked the noise and the chaos at Geo’s bedtime. He liked coming home and you being there whether it be just be watching some tv, or cooking dinner, or giving Geo a bath.  He even liked it when you weren’t there and there were just signs you would be back again.  The dishes in the sink or Geo’s Lego spread out on the coffee table.

After the incident at your apartment, you had agreed to stay with Steve at the tower.  The fact the people after you were willing to commit suicide over anyone finding out where they were from meant this was bigger than just you or Geo.  You had agreed - rather reluctantly at first - to stay with him until they could get to the bottom of it.

His apartment was only two bedrooms and given that you had only been dating for a little while, you’d been sharing a bedroom with Geo.  He hadn’t wanted to pressure you into becoming more intimate than you were ready for and if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure he was ready for it either.  Partly because of the high stress of the situation, he worried that any feelings the two of you shared might be too heightened, and partially because he always needed to be sure.  He’d taken two years to get to a first kiss with Peggy.  He was slow to act.

He did like you though and he liked having you around.  He was aware that he overthought everything, but he was also becoming very aware of something else.  He liked being needed.  Right now you needed him and he didn’t want that to go away.

Unfortunately, trying to find the people who had done this to you was proving harder than it seemed.  IGH was a shell company covering the tracks of a medical research group looking into replicating the super serum.  They seemed to have gone defunct years ago after some success though the levels of cover-ups of whoever was the result of that success were the kind only an incredible amount of money could buy.  Steve had put Tony on trying to unravel the threads and he’d eventually come back with the name of a private investigator and an address of her office.

As he rode the elevator up in the Hell’s Kitchen apartment building a thick dread filled him over the fact that the serum had worked so well on him and people were going to keep trying to replicate that again and again until someone worked it out or he died.

The elevator stopped and he and Bucky stepped out.  “You think she might run?”

Steve shook his head.  “From what I gather she’s one of the good ones.  Abrasive, but she’s been linked to the taking out of several criminals.”

Bucky nodded and the two walked to the end of the hall.  The door for Alias Investigations had seen better days.  It had several chunks out of it and in the space glass would normally be sitting, a large piece of cardboard was taped into place.  Steve rapped his knuckles on one of the undamaged parts of the door and it rattled in place.

There was a shuffling on the other side of the door and it creaked open just a little.  The pale face of Jessica Jones poked around the corner, her jet black hair framing her face.

“Oh hell no,” she said and tried to shove the door closed.

Steve caught it and for a moment he thought she was still going to manage to shut the door on him.  They were definitely on the right track. “Ms. Jones, we just have some questions.”

“No.  Fuck, no.  I’m not getting involved in any of your goody-two-shoes, Avengers bullshit,” she said, giving up on holding him back and striding back into her office.  “I have enough of my own shit to deal with than to worry about fucking Aliens and out of control robots.”

“Ms. Jones,” Steve said, as she went and grabbed a bottle of Jack Daniels from her desk, unscrewed the cap, and started drinking straight from it.  “We just want to ask some questions.  It’s about an organization known as Industrial Garments and Handling.  We believe you might know about them.”

She lowered the bottle and narrowed her eyes and collapsed down into the chair behind the desk.  “You’re too late.  There is no IGH.  I shut them down.  Everyone involved with it is dead.”

“You know them then?”  Steve asked, taking a seat.  Bucky stayed standing by the door like he was expecting Jones to try to run.

“I know them.  They did this to me,” she said and clenched her fist on the bottle.  It shattered, spraying glass and alcohol everywhere.  “And I made them pay for it.”

“Did you sign up for experimentation?”  Steve asked, and quickly held up his hands. “No judgment.  I signed up to be a lab rat too.”

Jones shook her head.  “No.  I was in a car accident and they took me.  What’s this about?”

“They were involved in human experimentation several years back.  We believe they were trying to make some kind of combat enhancers,” Steve said.

Jones scoffed and spun around on her chair, and began rifling through a filing cabinet.  “You have so many resources at your hands and that’s where you are?  You’re a little behind.  They were, the army had them and were using them on soldiers.  There’s one still alive. His name is in here -” she spun back around and tossed a stack of files on the desk.  “As for IGH there’s a nurse and a janitor still alive and they’re in prison.  The rest is gone.  You’re chasing a dead lead.  You can relax and take a break.”

“I’m afraid we can’t.  We have one of their test subjects in custody.  They’ve been trying to take her in,” Steve said.  “I’ve found with places like this, you think you get the root of the evil and you’ve just been pruning back some leaves.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed derisively.  “Nice analogy, Cap,” she said.  “I’m sorry about your friend, but they tried to destroy their own work, including me.  I know they’re gone because no one has tried to kill me in months now.  Whoever is trying to get to them, it’s not IGH.”

Steve sighed.  She seemed so certain, but someone had been trying to take you and Geo, and this company was involved somehow.  “Everything you have is in here?”  Steve asked.

“Yeah, take it,” Jones said.  “Now get out.  I have work to do.”

Steve stood and nodded.  “Thank you for your help.  I’ll call you if I have any questions.”

“Yeah, you do that,” Jones said.  “I have friends who’ll get a kick out of the voice message I have from Captain America.”

As they went back into the hall, Bucky laughed softly.  “She was charming.”

Steve bit back his own laughter.  “Well, I guess you don’t have to be pleasant to do good.”

“You can say that again,” Bucky said, jabbing the button to call the elevator.  “You think this is a dead-end?”

Steve flicked through the folders as he got onto the elevator.  “They obviously didn’t go away completely.  Whatever remnants existed might have been absorbed by something else, and going off how hard it was for me to keep that door open, I’d say they might have gotten closer than most at replicating what was done to us.  I’m guessing that something has taken what they can and is after Geo to fill in the blanks.  This is a start.”

The elevator stopped and Steve and Bucky began to make the walk back to the tower.  It was only seven blocks and even with the fact they were going to get stopped several times on the way, it was still easier to walk it than try and find a parking spot in Hell’s Kitchen.

“I should grab something for dinner on the way home,” Steve mused as he shoved the folders into his jacket and zipped it up.  But he and Bucky pulled on their ball caps and put on sunglasses.  Bucky shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket to hide the telltale glint of metal.

“What?  You sick of home-cooked meals already?”  Bucky teased.

Steve chuckled and nudged Bucky in the familiar way that always came so naturally to him, his shoulder bumping into his friend’s and pushing him slightly off course.  “Hardly,” he replied.  “I just worry about her thinking she owes me.  I’m really up in my head about it.  It’s hard dating someone who’s living with you and who is that reliant on you.  The line between normal boyfriend and girlfriend things and a person in a vulnerable position thinking that they need to comply with a request so they feel safe is blurred.”

Bucky’s lips twitched and he shook his head.  “Steve, I love you, pal,” he said.  “But do you overthink or what?”

Steve shrugged and let out a breath.  “I’ve never been good with this kind of thing, Buck.  You know that.”

“Yeah, I guess I do,” Bucky agreed.  “And it’s sweet how you worry about things like that.  It’s the reason why it took us so long to hug when you finally tracked me down though, you know?”

“Yeah,” Steve said.  “I know.  What do you think I should do?  I want to move forward with her.  I’d even be happy if she started sleeping in my bed, but all we’ve done is some quick pecks on the lips when I’ve gotten home and cuddling on the couch.  And I don’t even know if I can count the cuddling on the couch because she cuddles with you too.  You’ve always been better with women than I have.  What would you do?”

There was a heavy silence in the air while Bucky seemed to think it over.  When he finally spoke his voice sounded slightly tight and Steve wondered if he’d pushed him too far into thinking about how he used to be.  “Take her out again.  On an actual date.  I’ll watch Geo if she’s okay with it, or I’m sure Clint and Nat will come around if she still doesn’t trust me.  Talk about it with her.  Then kiss her for fuck’s suck.  Properly.”

Steve nodded, still not quite sure how to actually talk about it.  A date would be good though, the domestic thing made it hard to do anything romantic anyway.  “You wanna have dinner with us?”

Bucky nodded.  “Sure.  What are we having?”

“Burgers seem safe don’t you think?”  Steve said.  “Geo would probably eat a cheeseburger.”

There was another small nod from Bucky and Steve pulled out his phone, texting you for any special requests and to make sure you didn’t start cooking.  He hoped he could move things forward with you a little, but it wouldn’t be the first time he ended up having unrequited feelings for someone.  Either way, it was nice he could have you both in his life sharing dinner.

// NEXT

[iam93percentstardust]

And the last one from me, I promise: I'm really craving some WinterIron 'identity porn' where Iron Man is a villain (not really, but the media and SHIELD say so) and Bucky feels really bad for liking this guy who's his enemy. Plus this Tony Stark fella is kind of cute too... Thank you for your writing! ♡

Thank you! I hope you like this as it also fills one of my squares for @starkbucksbingo

Title: Secret Side in Plain Sight Collaborator Name: iam93percentstardust Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24806083/ Square Filled: B1 - First Date Ship/Main Pairing: Winteriron Rating: T Major Tags & Triggers: Identity Porn, Villain Iron Man, First Dates Word Count: 1811 Summary: In an attempt to get over his crush on Iron Man, the Avengers' nemesis, Bucky asks out the cute baker who lives down the street. For his part, Tony would be delighted that Bucky's finally asked him out - if only someone hadn't stolen his suit.

Just because Bucky knew that asking Iron Man out was a bad idea didn’t mean that he was willing to admit it. 

Look, Sam had good points sometimes but Bucky categorically refused to admit it. They had had this animosity since they met two years ago and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon. So yeah, Bucky knew that he couldn’t just ask Iron Man out but because it was Sam who pointed it out as a bad idea, he couldn’t just admit it. 

Besides, it wasn’t like Iron Man was really a villain, no matter what SHIELD and the media tried to paint him as. No one who was actually a villain stopped their “evil and nefarious plans,” as Iron Man put it, to save a little girl from a burning building. And yeah, okay, maybe it was Iron Man’s fault that the building was on fire in the first place but Bucky had been there when the building had caught flames. He’d heard the shock in Iron Man’s voice as he realized the fire department hadn’t been able to put out the fire in the warehouse next door and it had spread to the surrounding buildings, the horror when Sam had said he wouldn’t be able to get to the girl in time.

No villain—a true villain anyway—reacted like that. They would have left the girl to die.

But Bucky still knew it was a bad idea to ask him out, even if he was flirty and didn’t mind his metal arm. He could picture that cocky smile in his mind’s eye, imagine those pretty, dark curls, those whiskey brown eyes…Okay, so maybe he was imagining his other crush as the mysterious Iron Man but really who could blame him? They were both wicked smart and snarky and maybe just the tiniest bit arrogant but both Tony and Iron Man had good reason to be arrogant. Tony was the best baker on the East Coast and Iron Man had yet to be stopped by anyone. He didn’t think they could be blamed for being cocky about it.

Point was, he knew that he couldn’t just ask out Iron Man but he could do something about his crush on Tony (and no, he was not pining, no matter what Sam and Steve said). So he was there, standing in front of Sweet Treats at the end of the day, waiting for the evening rush to clear out so he could go inside and ask Tony out and hopefully not make a fool of himself in the process—though if he did, well, that was why he waited until just before closing.

“Bucky Bear!” Tony said delightedly as soon as he entered. “Come here, I’ve got this great new flavor of cupcake that I want you to try. The bakery-that-shall-not-be-named down the street tried something similar a few weeks ago and everyone’s been going to them for cupcakes now which is obviously ridiculous but it means I have to step up my game which, not like it’s hard—hello, have you met me? Anyway, it’s—”

“Baby doll, you’re babbling,” Bucky said with an amused smile. Christ, he liked this man.

“Oh yeah. Anyway, here.” Tony shoved half a cupcake into Bucky’s mouth before he could say anything else or even take it from him. Bucky almost choked on it before he remembered how to chew and swallow.

“Amazing, Tony, as always,” he said truthfully, licking the last little bit of crumbs from his lips. “Kind of spicy. What’s in them?”

Tony seemed frozen, staring at his mouth with a dazed expression on his face. “What?”

Bucky chuckled. That’s promising, at least. “The cupcakes. What’s in them?”

“Oh! Mangoes and jalapeños. I’m thinking about trying out a lime buttercream frosting on them, something like a margarita, you know?”

“And what’s Cake—”

“Ahem!” Tony said loudly, glaring at him.

“Sorry. What’s the bakery-that-shall-not-be-named doing?”

“Just jalapeño. They’ve got some sort of cinnamon frosting and spicy candy on top but I think mine is better.”

“It is,” Bucky assured him.

“You haven’t even tried theirs!” But Tony looked positively ecstatic to hear about Bucky’s loyalty so he knew he was doing something right at least.

“Don’t have to. Yours is always better.” He cleared his throat, scuffing his foot on the clean floor. “So, listen, I was thinking—”

“Could you flip the sign on the door for me?”

“What? Oh, sure.” He headed over to the door, flipped the open sign to closed. He probably could have asked then but he thought that asking Tony out should be a face-to-face conversation. “Tony, we’ve been—”

A timer went off in the small kitchen in the back. “Oh fuck,” Tony whispered. “The macarons.” He darted for the back, Bucky trailing after him, probably looking like a lost duckling. He was allowed in the back. Tony had given him permission after the sixth time he’d shown up at closing time, just to talk to the cute baker, and hadn’t wanted to end the conversation so Tony could rescue a batch of cupcakes from the oven. For as talented as Tony was, he had to throw out half the things he baked because he got distracted easily and forgot to take care of them before they were ruined.

Fortunately, the macarons were not one of the ruined batches—this time—and as Tony was setting them into individual containers to sit overnight, Bucky started to ask again, “Hey, I was wondering if you wanted—”

“Can you hand me that—"

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Bucky hissed. “Will you go out with me or not?”

Tony blinked up at him. “Try that again?”

“You, me, dinner? Maybe not tonight but tomorrow?”

Tony blinked again, slow enough that Bucky wondered if he was maybe about to get turned down, but then a delighted smile spread across Tony’s face. “I’d love to,” he breathed.

“Yeah?” Bucky asked, double checking. He almost wanted to tell Tony that he’d already said yes, there were no take backs, but they were decidedly not children, no matter how they acted sometimes.

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah. Tomorrow, you said? Do you have a place in mind? Cause if you don’t, I know this great little Italian restaurant. It’s near my place and if you want, afterwards—”

“Whoa, doll,” Bucky said, laughing as he laid a finger on Tony’s lips. “Wanna take my time with you. Wanna do this right.”

The look in Tony’s eyes could best be described as pouting but he kissed the tip of Bucky’s finger, giggling when Bucky groaned. “I can do slow,” he promised. “So. What did you have in mind?”

“You like burgers?”

~

He had no idea how he managed to pick out Tony’s favorite food. They had talked before, about Tony’s Italian mother and how that instilled a love of pasta in him, about Bucky growing up in the Depression and how he thought he hated chicken but really he just hated under-seasoned, overcooked meat. He counted himself lucky that Fury hadn’t seen a point in hiding the fact that Bucky Barnes was back after spending most of the last century as the world’s greatest assassin because it meant that he could share things like his past with Tony without being worried that he would inadvertently reveal something he wasn’t supposed to. And, in return, Tony told him about growing up wealthy, as one of the Starks, and about how he’d walked away from his parents’ company after they died, leaving it to become Stane Industries.

“You must really hate Iron Man, then,” Bucky had commented idly, not really fishing for information on his other crush but still curious. Iron Man almost exclusively went after Stane technology and warehouses.

To his surprise, Tony had given him a guarded look. “Why would you say that?” he’d asked warily.

“Cause that was your parents’ company he’s attacking even if it’s not anymore.”

“Maybe I think it’s good. Maybe I think I left SI because I didn’t want to make weapons anymore but I couldn’t talk the board into changing the direction of the company,” Tony had muttered, apparently forgetting that Bucky could hear everything he was saying. Well, it wasn’t like Tony could be Iron Man so it didn’t matter whether or not he liked what Stane was doing to the company. Whatever Tony’s thoughts were on Iron Man, it wasn’t important and had no effect on their date and Bucky really needed to stop thinking about Iron Man anyway. He had a date with someone cute and Iron Man was unattainable and just barely on the right side of being a villain anyway.

~

It was a little hard not thinking about Iron Man when he seemed determined to make sure that he was on Bucky’s mind at all times.

He and Tony had barely sat down at their table when his Avengers Card beeped, telling him about an upcoming mission. He groaned and fished out the card, scanning the details of the mission. Iron Man, of course. The villain had been particularly active over the last couple weeks but this one was new; Iron Man wasn’t attacking one of SI’s warehouses this time. He was attacking a children’s hospital.

“What the fuck?” Bucky muttered.

“Your other job?” Tony asked, smirking.

Bucky glared at him but there was no heat behind it. “It’s not like I’m a secret agent, baby doll. Ain’t no need to call it my other job. I’m the Winter Soldier and I’m an Avenger and we both know it.”

“But it’s just so fun,” he teased. “But, really, did something come up?”

“Yeah,” Bucky muttered. “Fucking Iron Man, ruining the first date I’ve had since the 40s.”

Tony frowned. “I’m sorry, did you say Iron Man?”

“Yeah. Look, I’m sorry, doll. Gotta go take care of this. Can we try again tomorrow? I was really looking forward to our date.” He leaned forward before he could think better of it and brushed his lips over Tony’s cheek.

Tony had a distracted look in his eyes but he blushed anyway. “Tomorrow sounds great. Good luck out there.”

Bucky was halfway to the door when Tony called after him, “And Bucky Bear? Be careful!”

Bucky grinned and saluted him. Tony cared about him. Tony didn’t want him to be hurt. He hardly even cared that Iron Man was acting outside of his usual modus operandi because Tony cared about him. They were gonna have another date tomorrow and everything was gonna be fine.

~

Tony waited until Bucky was gone before fishing his phone out of his pocket. He dialed Rhodey, impatiently drumming his fingers on the arc reactor under his shirt as he waited for him to pick up.

“Tones?” Rhodey said sleepily. “This better be important, do you have any—”

“Rhodey, who the fuck stole my suit?”

[stevepotterwrites]

A Review of David Lynch Biography/Memoir “Room to Dream”

As one might well expect from a book about the life and work of the eccentric auteur David Lynch, Room to Dream is by turns hilarious, heartbreaking, and a little strange. Biography and memoir in one, each chapter contains two sections separated by three or four pages of black-and-white photos from the time period covered in the chapter. First, we get a well-researched and clearly-presented biographical take featuring input from Lynch’s friends, family members, and collaborators. Former L.A. Times journalist Kristine McKenna does a fine job of keeping the story of Lynch’s improbable rise moving along. She gets out of the way and lets her interviewees do the talking when that’s best and weaves their recollections effectively giving us glimpses of the different stages of Lynch’s life and career from multiple angles. In the second section of each chapter, Lynch takes over and revisits the past in his own words. He goes into greater detail, sometimes, focusing on an aspect of the story that wasn’t covered in as much depth in Ms. McKenna’s section sometimes building on what others said. On a few occasions, he remembers things differently and disagrees with what others have said. For example, Lynch believes that Anthony Hopkins tried to get him fired from directing The Elephant Man. Ms. McKenna’s conclusion, based on her research, is that Hopkins complained bitterly about Lynch but stopped short of demanding he be fired and replaced. Who can really say for sure which account is closer to the truth? Either way, Lynch had the last laugh. The Elephant Man was a critical success and received eight Oscar nominations including Best Director. His career was launched. As much as one may be put off by Hopkins’ snotty attitude and presumption, regardless of whether or not he actually pushed to remove and replace Lynch or merely complained about him, his concern about being directed by a complete unknown isn’t really too surprising. Lynch was an inexperienced young director whose only full-length film was a bizarre, unclassifiable, no-budget, black-and-white surrealistic nightmare starring a bunch of actors no one had ever heard of before and which had only been shown as the midnight movie at a handful of art house theaters in the States. Yes, it’s recognized as a classic now and, yes, Lynch has become a legend, but at the time he was a completely unknown young American directing a cast of highly-acclaimed British actors including stage legend John Gielgud. Incredible. Thankfully, producer Mel Brooks had great faith in Lynch and admirably threw his full support behind him despite the reservations Hopkins and, quite likely, though less vocally, others had.Lynch’s rise was an astonishingly steep career trajectory by any measure. He made the animated short loop Six Men Getting Sick in 1966 and the live-action short The Grandmother in 1968 while a student at Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts in Philadelphia. Those opened the door to the American Film Institute in California where over a five-year period, on a tiny budget, with a small dedicated crew, he made Eraserhead. That film, in turn, convinced Mel Brooks that Lynch was the guy he was looking for to direct The Elephant Man  starring his wife, Anne Bancroft, among many other fine performers. Then came hard lessons learned from the $40 million (estimate according to IMDb) big-budget disaster of Dune. Despite that not going so well, producer Dino De Laurentiis gave Lynch the go-ahead to direct Blue Velvet with full creative control. Lynch found his groove and went on to create the body of work he is best known for. What we see examples of repeatedly throughout Room to Dream that at least in part explains his success is how Lynch’s charisma, contagious enthusiasm for his projects, and dedication to his craft and vision engenders a sense of loyalty from his actors, crew and other collaborators. The section of the book which recounts Catherine Coulson’s final performance in her iconic role of Margaret Lanterman, AKA the Log Lady, may well have you weeping when you read it. Her scenes will take on a deeper poignancy when you watch Twin Peaks: The Return again. Ms. Coulson was a key member of the Eraserhead team who worked tirelessly to help get that film made even donating her waitressing tips to the cause. Many of those sharing stories in the book are world-famous — Isabella Rossellini, Kyle Maclachlan, Laura Dern, Sting, John Hurt, Sissy Spacek — but some of the most illuminating insights come from lesser-known behind-the-scenes talents. One of my favorites is handyman and jack-of-all-trades, Alfredo Ponce. Mr. Ponce was doing some landscaping work in Lynch’s neighbor’s yard in the mid-nineties. Lynch struck up a conversation with him and the two hit it off. Lynch hired him to do some cleaning. He has been working for Lynch ever since taking care of everything from landscaping to plumbing to electrical work to mechanical repairs to building a set for Inland Empire.  “People see me here cleaning or raking leaves and they think nothing — they don’t know how much I know,” Mr. Ponce says. “I can smell things from far away, and I can see immediately when someone comes up here who doesn’t have David’s best interest at heart. The negative energy — I can see that, and I’ve seen a lot of people come and go. David’s an easygoing, nice person and he can be taken advantage of, so I try to protect him. Anybody who works here has to be somebody I trust.” Ponce’s picture jibes with the overall depiction of Lynch in the book. While he’s had his fallings out, breakups, business deals gone wrong and so forth the general consensus seems to be that he’s a pretty nice guy. On a scale of Dale Cooper doppelgangers, he’d likely hew more toward the Dougie Jones side of the spectrum than the Evil Coop zone. No doubt the man can be cantankerous, cranky, foul-mouthed and ill-tempered when confronted with realities that get in his way, as demonstrated in this clip below from the making of Twin Peaks: The Return, but some Hollywood veterans who’ve worked with him describe the experience as among the nicest, most pleasant and least dysfunctional gigs they’ve had in their long careers. The man has manners. He’s considerate. He knows everybody on set by name and acknowledges their contributions far beyond the directorial norm. This may in part be due to his long commitment to the daily practice of Transcendental Meditation. We also see Lynch’s maniacal attention to detail. He’ll fuss over something on set that likely won’t even be visible on screen in the end. To get the feel of the scene just right, it is important for him that all of the details be just so, just right. And, of course, if one gets to the point of fussing over minor details that won’t ever show, it’s only because there’s nothing left to fuss with. Everything is just right and ready to go. He’s like the short story writer who knows he is done with a story when he finds himself putting commas back in that he’d previously cut. Yet coupled with that powerful desire to get the set to look just the way he envisioned it is the seemingly contradictory willingness to embrace chance and serendipity, to spontaneously incorporate a new element that presents itself into the work. Lynch’s best friend since high school, the production designer and artistic director Jack Fisk, who has worked with many of the finest directors in Hollywood including the Coen Brothers and Terrence Malick and is every bit as well-respected as Lynch in the movie industry (though far less famous to the general public) gives an example of this from when they were teenagers obsessed with painting. A large moth flew onto one of Lynch’s wet paintings, got trapped and flailed away trying to break loose. While another painter might have been upset and set to work to remove the moth and smooth over the disrupted section of paint, Lynch was thrilled and at once accepted the dying moth’s struggle and eventual death as a part of the painting. Many years later, in a now famous incident, set designer Frank Silva accidentally got himself trapped on the set of Laura Palmer’s bedroom when he blocked the exit door with a dresser. He hid behind the bed during the filming of a scene. Lynch was intrigued by the thought of an unseen character hiding in the room. In a later scene in the Palmers’ living room, Silva’s face was accidentally shown reflected in a mirror. Clearly, he was supposed to be in the show. Lynch incorporated Silva into the series as a central figure, the evil, interdimensional being BOB who possesses Leland Palmer and makes him do bad things. It is hard to imagine Twin Peaks without BOB but such a version might have been if Mr. Lynch was less open to influence, if he didn’t allow himself the room to dream. Room to Dream. What a perfect title. Mr. Lynch managed to find himself the room to dream and to bring those dreams alive on film, on record, and on canvas so the rest of us can dream along with him. He got past the most common destroyer of artistic ambition — concerned, well-meaning parents who don’t understand what you’re doing — and found collaborators who did get it. That this is a book Lynch fans will enjoy goes without saying, but it’s also a good choice more generally for anyone interested in how movies get made or those who simply enjoy a good memoir.

-- Steve Potter

https://bookfreak.us/2018/10/21/david-lynchs-room-to-dream/

[gainaxvel3o]

A Miraculous Tale of Rubybug and Cat Blake Chapter 4

Previous / First / Next

The Scorpion and the Frog

"Today, students, we are going to be picking partners."

Everyone groaned. Glynda had expected this reaction from years of experience. She also expected them to get with the program once she laid out the rules.

"It is true that fashion is a competitive industry," She continued. "However no one gets to the top by themselves. Designers and models need to be able to work together in order to get anywhere. I will be picking out the teams for the rest of the semester."

Ruby Rose shook nervously in her seat. She knew that something like this would have to happen. Bringing her hands to together she prayed to get a good partner.

"Let's see here… May Zhedong and Nolan Porfirio…"

Darn, she was looking forward to teaming up with May. She looked so cute with the jacket and beanie! Okay let's see who else was up.

"Coco Adel and Velvet Scarletina, you two worked together very well I'll admit."

Another missed opportunity. Maybe she could ask them tips on fashion? They've done work in the industry maybe she can-

"Ruby Rose and Weiss Schnee."

Oh no. Oh noooo.

Ruby slowly turned her head to the girl next to herself. Weiss stared at her, her eye twitching in annoyance.

"…"

"…"

"…"

"… heh heh, hi?"

Weiss looked away, passing her judgement towards the smaller girl. It was going to be an exhausting assignment it seemed.

_______________________________________________________________________

They've been at this for hours.

Roman's bruised face swelled in pain from the baton that had been used to torment him. The cop, a dark-skinned woman with platinum blonde and brown hair shaved on the sides, had been interrogating him for information. Her name was Harriet if he heard right.

"What do you know about the bug?" She yelled at him. "Where did you get that power?"

Roman chuckled darkly, in spite of the agony he was in now. "What's there to know? She beat my ass. I don't remember what I did. That's what I told you."

"Fuckin hell no one gets powers and then forgets!"

"I did. Now quit whining to me."

"Enough Harriet." A pale man came over. He grabbed Harriet's arm. "We're not going to learn anything about the situation by beating him up. Let's move on to more pressing matters."

Harriet scoffed. "Fine. You got lucky pal."

"Yeah I feel soooo lucky right now…" Roman wiped the blood from his face. "Take me back to my cell so I don't have to deal with you animals."

Harriet roughly picked him up. Vine and herself opened the door and escorted the prisoner back to his cell. They passed by several guards who saluted them.

"The Chief isn't going to like this," Harriet said. "With Mayor Ironwood's campaign in question the city's going crazy. If I could get my hands on that ladybug…"

"Now is not the time for that." Vine said. "When they show up, they'll show up. For now we gather information."

"Yeah…"

As they were enveloped in their conversation, they didn't notice one guard fidgeting nervously. Travis Cornetto pulled out a loaf of bread from his pocket, passing inside of the cell.

"I couldn't get more," Cornetto said. "Sorry."

A pale hand took the bread. He examined it a bit, before immediately devouring it. Tyrian Callows hasn't had food in a while."

"You're such a gracious host…" Tyrian ate the food gladly. "Maybe there's a chance you can be made beautiful yet."

_______________________________________________________________________

"Relax Ruby, this isn't so bad."

"Not so bad! This is terrible!"

Ruby paced back and forth in the bathroom ass Tikki tried to calm her down.

"I'm teaming up with WEISS SCHNEE, the crabbiest girl I ever met even though she's a model and she could be really helpful to me but I made her mad on the first day so my career as a fashion designer might even be over before it began-"

"Ruby."

"-and she's my roommate so what if I show up as Ladybug and she finds out it's me? What if she uses me for some evil nefarious purpose like shining her shoes or taking her places even though one of those bad guys attack-"

"Ruby."

"Oh my goodness this is the absolute worst thing that could possibly happen to me!"

"RUBY!"

She let out a tiny gasp as Tikki got right up to her line of sight.

"Listen Ruby," Tikki said. "You're gonna ace the assignment and be fine. Nothing is going to happen. Now we need to talk about Nooro."

Ruby nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah you're right. I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"We need to figure out where he's being located. I can sense darkness sometimes, but not himself. Do you think we have time to patrol today?"

"Sure!" Ruby said. "I can make time. I mean, Weiss might try to go to the teacher to get a different partner so during lunch break I can sneak away. A magnificent plan if I say so myself hohoho!"

Ruby pointed her finger at no particular place as she puffed her chest out. She posed as if she was a sea captain out on a maiden voyage. The image made Tikki sigh a bit in fond exasperation.

"Oh Ruby," Tikki's ears started vibrating. "I hear someone coming! Return!"

Tikki disappeared into Ruby's earrings. Just as she did, the door opened. Blake Belladonna came through the door, looking up in surprise to see someone was already inside.

"Oh it's you Ruby."

At the sound of Blake's voice, Ruby jumped.

"HOLY CRUD IT'S BLAKE!" She nearly screamed. "Sorry. I was uh… thinking? Out loud? With my lips? Human beings have lips I think."

Blake chuckled. "They certainly do. What seems to be the problem?"

"Well today is supposed to be the day we partnered up for the semester." Ruby explained. "I got teamed up with Weiss Schnee!"

"Ooof, I wish you the best of luck with that." Blake then blinked. "Wait she was in your class?"

"Yeah. She missed the first class due to a scheduling slip up." Ruby sighed. "Now what am I gonna dooooo?"

"It might not be so bad. A partner who's also your roommate can be very useful, especially someone like Weiss. She probably has a few fashion tips?"

"But she's so crabby! I want a non-crabby partner…" Ruby then realized. "Why don't you be my partner?"

"Me? We don't attend the same class and… I'm not pretty enough."

"You're very pretty! But you're right, not the same class. Daaaarn."

"Maybe you should to get along?" Blake tried to ignore the blush that was on her face. "You might be able to get something interesting done. If worst comes to worst just ask the teacher to pair you up with someone else."

"Uggghhhh why are you so right Blake?"

"I'm just experienced I think," Blake brushed a few hair strands away. "Sorry Ruby I need to um…"

"Oh oh! I can go!" Ruby laughed. "I need to go find Weiss anyway! Thank you!"

Ruby ran back out of the bathroom. Blake watched her go, letting a smile form on her lips. As she did so Plagg emerged from the ring. His smile was a little bit more mischievous than Blake's.

"Someone called you were pretty~ When's the wedding?"

"Shut up Plagg."

_______________________________________________________________________

Tyrian Callows was not a murderer. He was a serial killer.

Why distinguish the difference? Because a typical murderer is too broad, too plain to describe a being such as himself. To put it simply, Tyrian was beautiful. His hands twitched with powerful uncontrollable desire. He waited to snap the neck out of anyone who would get close to him. He wanted to take knives and stab them into someone's face. He wanted tear open insides and spread them around himself. These are the things that made him feel beautiful.

Tyrian was not insane. Insane would imply Tyrian didn't know what he was doing was wrong. He knew that he was a being of evil and did not care, because in those moments where he butchered and murdered he felt beautiful.

Cornetto was… fine. Another meat puppet alongside other meat puppets. He at least brought the food. They've been starving him for days, so someone keeping him alive is something commendable. He'll still die of course, but Tyrian will make sure he goes out beautifully.

From the corner of his eye, he saw a pretty little purple butterfly floating towards him. Tyrian remembered one time as a kid where he managed to capture a butterfly and slowly sliced off it's wings. He wanted to see what a butterfly looked like without it's wings. Tyrian took the butterfly in his hand.

"Gotcha," Tyrian smiled. "I needed a distraction from this shitty cage."

"Would a distraction really be enough to satisfy your needs, Mr. Callows?"

He got up startled. "Who the fuck are you?! How'd you get in my head?!"

"Allow me to introduce myself. I'm your Monarch, here to fulfill your wish."

"My wish?" He laughed, utterly bewildered. "My only wish is to be beautiful! Someone like you wouldn't understand what I've been searching for."

"Oh but I do. I've seen the way you work. That death, that chaos, those things make you a most magnificent specimen. I wish to see more of it."

"You… you do?" Tyrian said in a small voice. "You understand?"

"Indeed. Such beauty is what I seek as well. However, may propose something to you? Something you may not have considered?"

"Hmmm… go on. You peaked my interest."

"I'm glad I have. You do what you do to find beauty for yourself. But what if you could make the world around you beautiful as well? What if I can give you the power to cave out your desires?

Tyrian's eyes widened at that. Beauty for the world? He had thought such a dream was impossible to fulfill. A foolish desire! But here the voice in his head had offered him a chance to fulfill it?

"You're certainly being tempting," Tyrian bowed. "What's the catch? What do you need me to do?"

"Oh not much. I only require a set of earrings and a ring from a pair of teenagers unworthy of your talents. Other than that… you can bring as much death and destruction as you want. Why keep the world from seeing beauty for what it is?"

"Yes… yes yes YES!"

Tyrian got onto his knees and bowed. He held his head low in gratitude and awe.

"I'll serve as your Huntsman, my Queen, and bring you what you desire! It is my thanks for allowing me to find what I seek!"

"A Huntsman… I like the sound of that… Go my partner. Bring me the miraculous!"

Outside the cell, Cornetto had been hearing Tyrian whisper to himself over the past few minutes. He was disgusted as much as everyone but the crimes Tyrian committed, but he was not a man who wanted to see people suffer. That was why he brought food for the criminal.

"Tyrian please keep quiet the others are trying to-"

The cell door was destroyed right away. A slash from a tail incapacitated Cornetto, dropping his carved body to the ground.

"What the hell!?" A guard yelled. "This shit is happenin' again!"

They tried attacking with batons, but the villain was quick. He used his new pincers to stab their throats with bursted with blood. He raised his head towards the ceiling.

"I have a calling to fulfill, an order to complete!" The newly powered villain screamed across the prison. "I'm Scorpio, one of the Monarch's fine Huntsmen, here to bring beauty to this world!"

Cornetto for his part clutched his chest. He looked at Tyrian weakly, trying to form a single sentence.

"But… why…?"

Tyrian heard the question and grinned maliciously.

"Because I'm beautiful."

_______________________________________________________________________

Okay this was going to be hard.

Ruby had been heading to the table with Yang and her friends (she assumed they were friends, they wouldn't all sit together on the same table if they weren't right?) until she spotted Weiss sitting by herself.

She had the same demeanor that she had in class and the past few days. Indifference. Annoyance. The threat to murder anyone who dared to talk to her. Ruby was reluctant but she figured there was no better time to take Blake's advice. It was here or in their room, where Weiss could shut her off by slamming the door to her part of the dorm.

"Here goes nothing…"

She steeled herself. Ruby walked over to Weiss with the best smile she could muster. She sat her hand on the table, ready to say something hopefully awe inspiring, something that will get Weiss Schnee to finally-

"No."

Ruby blinked. "But I didn't even say anything."

"I knew what you were going ask." Weiss said. "No, I don't want to work with you, I won't work with you, I will not be working with you. An obvious upstart like yourself has no place in a University like this one."

Ruby blinked again. "Oh. Well thanks for making it easy then!"

She started moving away, which made Weiss' eye twitch in annoyance.

"That's it? You just give up immediately?"

"Yeah," Ruby shrugged. "I mean, you don't like me, I think you're a jerk, I'm not gonna sit through a million rounds of you putting me down while we work. Go ahead and get another partner. I don't mind at all."

"Hmph," Weiss crossed her arms. "If you fold like that so easily you won't make it far in the fashion industry."

"And if you act like a jerk then the only people in your fan club will be your butler. That you probably paid for." Ruby stuck her tongue out. "Have a nice day!"

She skipped a few steps away from Weiss, who had been left sputtering at this act of defiance. Internally Ruby was screaming at herself.

‘HolycrapIjustinsultedWeissSchneemycareerisoverbutthatfeltsogoodbutsobadbutsogoodbutsobad-’

"Hey Rubes!" Ah, Yang was waving at her sister. "What's the deal with you and Ice Queen?"

"Oh not much I was partnered up with her and then I may have just insulted her."

"Ooooohhh," Nora bopped Ruby's nose. "Tell us how it went! Were her schnees broken in despair?"

"I think Ruby would end up suspended if she did that," Ren said. "Ruby, you should be covert in your revenge. I have plans I can share."

"Can we not talk about revenge at the table?" Jaune said. "I'm trying to eat my bagels."

Pyrrha offered up a bagel of her own. "Why not have this?"

Jaune took it, looking rather funny as he devoured the bagel. "You're a life saver Pyrrha, an angel among this Earth."

Pyrrha smiled, an action that made everyone on the table skip a beat due to how pure and sweet and wonderful it was. Ruby herself would be entranced by it if it weren't for her earrings suddenly vibrating.

'An alert? Oh not now, I haven't eaten lunch yet Tikki couldn't you wait a minute-?'

The TV interrupted the thought process. Lisa Lavender appeared on the screen to give the news.

"We interrupt this program to bring you a breaking news report! Another super powered being is on the loose in the city, maiming and doing worse to civilians down on the street!

The camera switched to footage on the scene. A shaky, barely medium quality of a scorpion creature attacking people appeared. The camera was shaky

"He is calling out for Ladybug and Chat Noir to find him, the connection between them uncertain. Could they be in league?"

"Now that's bulloney!" Nora slammer fists on the table. "Ladybug wouldn't be in league with any bad guys! Didn't she save everyone from dumb bowler hat guy and his donkey army?!"

'I most certainly did Nora, and I have to go over there quick!' Ruby thought. 'I gotta get outta here!'

"Uh I need to…" She said out loud. "Find materials for my project!"

"Already? You just got here though?" Yang raised an eyebrow. "Don't you have class later?"

Ruby was already making her way to the exit. "I do, but if I hurry up I can make it! Bye!"

The group watched their youngest leave, Yang already feeling sad she left. She felt a hand on her shoulder.

"She'll be fine." Pyrrha said. "I'm sure she knows what she's doing."

"Yeah Yang," Jaune laughed. "I mean, It's not like she's gonna go fight the guy on the tv or something."

_______________________________________________________________________

The quest for beauty was going surprisingly well.

These ugly, dirty people stared at him and ran, terrified in the face of himself. Scorpio was now true beauty. Not that anyone would understand of course. No one except, of course, his Queen. The Monarch offered him a chance to bring true beauty to all. He just needed to get the Miraculous.

"Hey! You brats!" Scorpio yelled. "Show yourselves Ladybug and Chat Noir! I want the Miraculous you got!"

A shadow dropped from a rooftop. Chat Noir narrowed her eyes at the creature before her. His skin was scaly, looking less human and more armor-like. He had a trench coat with a white sleeveless jacket underneath it. Leather belts were strapped to it, along with white pants. A bright red amulet around his neck stuck out like a sore thumb if offset by golden eyes that shimmered with sadistic glee. His tail slithered from side to side.

"Who are you?" Chat Noir asked. "What do you want with Ladybug and I?"

One of them was here. Good. Scorpio grinned.

"The Monarch wants your Miraculous, kitty cat." He said. "As her Huntsman, I came here to take it for her!"

"No thanks," Chat readied her staff. "You'll have to work for it."

The battle thus began swiftly. Tyrian lunged at the cat themes heroine, but she slammed her staff into his head, slamming him head first into concrete. Chat narrowly dodged the tail strike to the face. She kept her distance as pincers bursted fresh from Scorpio's hands.

"I know plenty about work," Scorpio grinned. "I'll get the miraculous and then carve you up into something truly beautiful!"

As the pincers came close to her face, Chat used the staff to block them. Scorpio was pushing her to the defensive, forcing Chat Noir to step back bit by bit.

'Think Blake, think!' Blake thought to herself frantically. 'I need to keep him busy until Ladybug gets here.'

Where was Ladybug? Blake really wished she had asked for her phone number or something. Only Ladybug had the power to de-grimmify this… Huntsman he called himself? The whole business is getting more insane the further Blake delved into it.

"What's the matter kitty cat?" Scorpio called out again. "Need a pound of tuna?"

"Sounds delicious but no." Chat said. "I'm in the mood for some tail though."

She swiped the staff towards his left leg, knocking Scorpio off balance. At another swing from his tail Chat jumped above the man, avoiding it slamming the staff against his stomach. Chat kept the staff ready as Scorpio clutched his stomach.

"Ugh, not bad not bad." He said. "I've never won a fair fight to be honest. Maybe that's why-"

He jumped away from Chat, flipping around to catch a civilian in his arm.

"-I like pull a fast one!"

"H-help!" The woman's neck was held tight, cutting off her words. "Hck-!"

Chat Noir found herself in a tough bind. Scorpio was not someone to be trusted. If he had his way, he would kill that woman and herself as soon as the miraculous was in his hands. But could she risk this woman's life for a gamble?

"Come on! Give me the ring, or whatever you use to make that trashy suit!"

Blake gritted her teeth. She moved her fingers towards the ring-

"Hold on Chat Noir!"

Ladybugs are often said to be creatures of luck. It seems it held true to the costumed heroine, who caught the villain's hand with her yoyo, pulling him away from the civilian. Ladybug landed next to Chat Noir, standing up to retrieve the yoyo.

"Hope I'm not too late Chat."

"Could have been a little faster honestly." Chat said. "Otherwise thanks for coming."

Due to the distraction the civilian ran away from the scene. As soon as Scorpio recovered and saw the two heroes, he knew he was in trouble. One against one was one thing, but two against one is a bit much for his brain to compute.

Yet he knew couldn't disappoint his Queen. She had given his life purpose! There had to be something, ANYTHING he could do.

"Seems you got me cornered." Scorpio said. "I'll take a page from the cat's example, I'll make you work to get to me!"

He made a jump, surprising the heroes by how high he could get. He made it to a rooftop and ran.

"We need to go after him!" Ladybug prepared her yoyo. "He might be up to something, so don't split from me okay?"

Chat Noir snorted, as if offended by that remark.

"Like I was going to leave you out my sight, my lady."

_______________________________________________________________________

Weiss Schnee stomped the hallways with purpose.

That annoying upstart… not only were they roommates, not only were they attending the same class, but she had to nerve to insult her like that? It was madness. She had to get another partner immediately. One who knew better.

She made a turn to the left of the hallyway, in the direction of Ms. Goodwitch's classroom. That teacher better have an explanation for her pick-

"Huh? Miss Schnee!"

Weiss had almost bumped into the Headmaster. Salem Ozpin recovered, and sighed upon noticing who bumped into her.

"My apologies. How is your day going?" Salem asked warmly. "Is Beacon to your liking?"

"It's… fine." Weiss said. "I'm trying to exchange partners."

"Oh I won't be keeping you. Who is your partner?"

"Ruby Rose," Her name came out so bitterly on Weiss lips it's like she's choking on poisoned air. "That upstart is an insult to this school. She comes here thinking she knows better than me, a model in the industry? I wouldn't be surprised if she got here through connections!"

"Oh I see…" Salem said. "Miss Schnee, do you know who recruited Ruby into this school?"

"A dope I presume."

"Well admittedly I can be that sometimes, but I think my decisions have turned out for the best."

Weiss blinked.

"That girl is quite remarkable. She was the class president for three years, arranged banquets and parties while designing truly impressive fashion work. Ruby had posted some of the work on her blog, which was how I found her out."

Weiss blinked again.

"If you give her a chance, Weiss, I think she can be really useful for your career as well as her own." Salem's smiled never left her lips. Not once. "Was there anything you needed?"

"… no ma'am." Weiss said quietly. "I think I just remembered something."

"Oh I know what that's like. Just one more thing before you go though…" Salem crossed her arms. "You are not the only one who works hard Miss Schnee. This is a privileged academy and few enter here without a skill of some sort. You cannot operate alone as you are now. My husband believed in strength in numbers when he was around. I think the same way. Do you understand?"

At that, Weiss nodded. "I will take your words into consideration, Miss Ozpin."

She walked off. It was less of a stomp and more of a gentle click clack of the heels that made noise on the hallways. Salem's smile became slightly more mischievous as she saw her student go.

"I bet you're proud, Ozma. She and Miss Rose certainly have potential."

_______________________________________________________________________

Scorpio was fast. But Ladybug and Chat Noir were pretty fast too.

"He's entering the warehouse!" Ladybug threw the yoyo at a nearby pole. "He might try to isolate us while we're inside."

"Right. Let's stick together."

With that exchange, Chat wrapped her arms around Ladybug's waist (which didn't make the red and black hero blush in any way, no siree). Once secured, Ladybug swung them both across the street, smashing through the windows. They landed squarely on the floor.

"Should we have broken through the window like that?" Chat asked. "We're probably going to get fined for that you know."

"Eh, I can fix it with a Miraculous Cure anyway." Ladybug said without worry. "Not like either of us have superhero insurance. Or would it be miraculous insurance?"

"Beats me." Chat just shrugged. "What do you think we should do?"

The two inspected the area. Several boxes were stacked together, a forklift still having boxes on the lift implying that work had been done here recently. No sign of Scorpio… yet.

"Stick together. Did he give any hint about where his possessed item could be?"

"Hmmm…" Chat tapped on her staff thinking about it. "No hint I'm afraid but I think his amulet could be it. We should focus on disabling his tail."

A pair of eyes peered from behind a box, gazing down at the unsuspecting duo.

"Good idea. If we can take that down, we'll be able to search for his object more efficiently. First we gotta find him."

The duo jumped when they heard a sinister laugh echo across the room. They kept their guard up.

"How cute. Just taking out my tail and you think you're enough to beat me? Not in a million years will you be able to take out a prized Huntsman of the Monarch!"

"Monarch huh?" Ladybug seized the moment. "Is that who you're working for?"

"Yes… She is a Queen among queens, a goddess to be revered! She understands the true beauty in death and chaos, she completes me! With the miraculous her ultimate plan will be fulfilled! HehehehehehehehehBWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

That laugh made both heroes shiver in fear. Ruby had heard it on the news, but it was here in this moment she remembered she wasn't dealing with a regular villain but a serial killer who would do whatever it takes to kill her.

'I need to trick him somehow.' She thought. 'How did Yang always trick guys into giving away whether they wanna get into her pants or not? Oh wait, it's reverse psychology!'

"If she picked you the Monarch's clearly off her rocker." Ladybug said out loud. "I mean, Scorpion guy? How uncreative can you get?"

"Tch, I see what you're doing but it's not going to-"

"No she has a point." Chat continued. "For someone all about brining beauty to the world you are simply ugly and disgusting. You never belonged in a world like this one."

Scorpio's eye twitched. "I am beautiful."

"No. Jewels are beautiful. Cats are beautiful. Butterflies are beautiful. You though? You're an ugly scorpion guy who can only make ugly things."

"Do not listen to them Tyrian," Monarch whispered into his ear. "They are trying to trick you!"

"OH YEAH?!" Scorpio- no, Tyrian, yelled. "JUST YOU WAIT, I'LL CARVE YOUR BODIES INTO THE MOST MAGNIFICENT SCULPTURES THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN!"

His purpose forgotten, the villain lunged at the opposing duo. His tail struck nothing except the ground where they originally stood.

"Ladybug, we have a chance now!"

Tyrian felt a yoyo wrap around his tail. He realized quickly what they were trying to do.

"No," He panicked. "Not the tail not the tail not the- AAAAAAHHHHH!"

Tyrian missed it as soon Ladybug decapitated the stinger. She. Cut. Off. His. Stinger. The beauty he possessed had been ravaged into disgusting ugliness.

"We got him Chat!" She yelled. "Search him!"

No. Scorpio could not allow this to stand. Tyrian will not allow this to STAND.

"YOU'RE DEAD MEAT NOW KIDS!"

The amulet glowed red. With speed the heroes had no time to react to, Scorpio slashed at their abdomens, then elbowed them to the floor. He turned around, grinning at seeing Ladybug in pain. The girl took her away his stinger, now he'll take her life.

Or would if his pincer hadn't been blocked by the staff.

"You seem to be forgetting it's two against one." Chat said, panting hard. "Come and get me."

Ladybug swiped at his leg. He pulled it back to avoid the attack, but Ladybug kicked his stomach in the mean time.

"Come and get us." Ladybug said. "Grab the amulet, Chat!"

Scorpio swung his tail around, trying to hit them with anything even without the stinger. However, Ladybug and Chat were quicker. Ladybug threw the yoyo at the villain's chin as Chat readied her hand.

"Go for it Chat!"

"No… no please!" Tyrian pleaded. "I want to be beautiful!"

"CATACLYSM!"

As soon as the words were spoken, the amulet was destroyed. A glowing violet butterfly flew out from the broken object.

"Right then!" Ladybug captured the butterfly in the yoyo. "Miraculous…"

"NO PLEASE STOP!"

"… LADYBUG!"

A red glow came and went, an army of ladybugs swarming the area. The damage from Scorpio's pincers were undone, as were the windows repaired from the heroes' breaking into the place. Tyrian no longer had the scaly body he possessed before. Instead, he wore his prison uniform, his dark hair and desperate face visible for all to see.

"No… no I disappointed my Queen…" Tyrian dug his nail into his head. "I failed, I failed, I didn't bring beauty like I was supposed to!"

Ladybug and Chat Noir could only stare at each other awkwardly as the now de-powered serial killer sobbed pathetically onto the floor. In spite of everything he had done and tried to do Ruby couldn't help but feel just a little sorry for him. Only a little. Pity was not the same thing sympathy.

The doors opened. A pair of cops stormed in with guns pointed at the heroes

"FREEZE RIGHT THERE!" Harriet yelled at them. "You're under arrest for vigilantism!"

"You have the right to remain silent." A female officer with short brown haired and dark skin said. "Resist and we won't hesitate."

Ladybug and Chat held their arms in the air. Ruby was confused by this turn of events.

"Um, we just stopped the bad guy?" She said. "We even fixed the damage, so what the problem?"

"My lady, I don't think they'll take anything but our surrender into account." Chat said. "We need to make a break for it as soon as possible."

"Try anything and we'll fire!"

Tyrian didn't hear the police's words. How could he? The butterfly's beautiful voice had disappeared. The quest for beauty was in vain. Now… he stared at Ladybug, who had his back turned to him.

He will have revenge.

"I really think you're being a bit unreasonable officer," Ladybug continued. "Perhaps if you lower your weapons we might be able to have a conversation-"

Suddenly a pair of arms surrounded her neck and stomach. Tyrian snarled.

"I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU FOR RUINING EVERYTHING! I WON'T EVEN TURN YOU INTO A WORK OF ART, I'LL JUST USE YOUR SKIN TO WIPE MY ASS WITH IT!"

Chat looked on in horror as Ladybug struggled against his grip. If it weren't for the police holding guns at them she would do something. There was one trick, but Chat wasn't sure she was fast enough to try it. She reached into her pockets.

"L-let go of me!"

"YOU TOOK AWAY MY POWER! I WAS SCORPIO! I AM SCOR-"

His words were cut off. Whatever they would be, Ladybug only heard a loud sound and felt the arms around her slip away. She turned to watch Tyrian fall to the ground. A bullet wound on the forehead bled across the face. There was no peace in his eyes. Only shock.

"If you move then you're gonna end up like him," Harriet pointed the gun at them again. "Get down!"

"NINJA VANISH!"

Smoke bursted from the shell Chat threw onto the ground. It was thick and instantaneous. One… two… three… Harriet fired the gun into the smoke but she didn't hear anyone get hit.

"Damn it!" She looked around. "Find them!"

As they searched the warehouse from top to bottom, Chat helped Ladybug up to the rooftop. Ladybug let out a sigh of a relief.

"That was a pretty cool trick you did Chat. You really pulled us out of a jam."

"I didn't know if it was going to work. Glad it did." Chat put a hand on her partner's shoulder. "You alright?"

"Y-" Ladybug caught herself. Her eyes grew wide. "No. No I'm not okay. They shot a man in the head! I know he was a killer but- but what the hell?!"

She felt arms wrap around her. Ladybug hugged back.

"It was a difficult situation, my lady." Chat said. "It was shocking, wrong even. If had to be his death or yours I'm not shameful over it but it goes to show we need to be more careful from now on."

"I… I should have been better. I could have sensed him or-"

"No. That man jumped you. It was unexpected. You are not at fault for what he did, just as you are not at fault for what the officer."

"But-"

"But nothing. We got away and prevented another disaster. There is nothing more to it than that."

Ladybug held onto Chat tighter. Five minutes were spent like that, trying to make sense out of the freak accident they fell into. Blake had been afraid about what would happen during an encounter with the police. She thanked her stars that neither herself nor Ladybug got out of there without much of a scuffle.

A moment later, Ladybug let go of Chat. "Thank you Chat. Glad to have you as a partner I can count on."

"Heh, same for you my lady." Chat smiled. "See you around?"

"Sure!" Ladybug returned the smile. "Thanks again Chat!"

_______________________________________________________________________

As it turned out, Ruby had been pretty lucky to avoid her next class. Judging from what she had heard, Professor Port's lectures had only gotten more rambly and pointless.

She returned to her room and shut the door quickly. The image of the man's head exploded from a bullet was still burned into her memory. Ruby breathed in and out repeatedly. She needed time away from people.

"Ruby Rose."

That was a person. That was definitely a person Ruby just heard. Weiss Schnee was sitting on a chair in Ruby's workspace. She had been inspecting a paper detailing a new design idea.

"Weiss, please not right now." Ruby waved her away. "I'm tired and anxious and the last thing I need is you coming in and putting me down again-"

"If you would let me talk you might hear something different." Weiss said. "I am willing to be your partner."

Ruby blinked. "What?"

"I'll help you Ruby Rose." She got up. "I realized that I was being unfair in my assessment of you. Clearly you have some skill in order to get into this University. This design?" She handed the paper to Ruby. "It's not a bad one. With sharpening it could be brilliant."

"… thanks?" Ruby was definitely surprised to hear that. "So what? You want us to remain partners?"

"Yes. I will be critical, but if we can put aside our differences we just might be able to get through the semester. I will try to give useful advice, and you have control over how the final project will turn out."

Weiss stretched our her hand. "Deal?"

Ruby looked at the hand. Then back to Weiss. Then back again. She took the hand and shook it.

"Huh. I guess you're not all bad Weiss."

"Shut up dolt."

[need-a-fugue]

We Grow Together (17)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Tessa Sullivan (OFC)

Chapter Summary: It’s New Years Eve, which means it’s time for Bucky to suffer through a Tony Stark party.

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

“You could try a little, that’s all I’m saying” she shouts through the bathroom door.

He makes a face in the mirror, rolls his eyes at his full-length reflection. A monkey suit, that’s what they used to call it. Do they still call it that? “I am trying,” he replies harshly, pulling at his cuffs. Stark had a tailor come in and fit all of the guys for tuxes, but somehow this still just doesn’t seem right. The shirt cuffs are too tight around his wrists. The silky fabric feels weird on his metal arm. The pants are too tight. The tailor said they were perfect, they’re supposed to fit like that. But he feels like he can’t move. And these damn shiny shoes are pinching his toes so bad he wants to scream. But he can’t. He can’t scream. Because his collar is buttoned all the way up and there’s a freaking bowtie around his neck and it’s strangling the life out of him.

“Stop it,” she says from behind. He has two fingers deep in his collar, tugging, desperately trying to get some air. “Stop. It.”

He looks up and catches her reflection in the mirror. Her face is stern, but beautiful. It’s always beautiful, but… “Wow,” he breathes out. She normally has her hair back in a messy bun or a haphazard ponytail. Her makeup, typically, consists of cherry Chapstick, maybe a little eyeliner if she’s going out. When she ‘suits up’ for a business meeting or a conference she’ll throw on some heels, add a bit of mascara, and straighten her hair. The last Stark party they went to was the most dressed up he’s ever seen her, and even that was nothing compared to this.

Her hair is collected to one side, loose curls cascading over her shoulder. The dark, blood-red lipstick is striking against her pale skin and dark hair. And the thick, smoky shadow and eyeliner make her green eyes stand out like emeralds in a coal mine.

“You look amazing,” he says, eyes glued to her reflection, fingers still in his collar.

“And you,” she says, moving to his side, “didn’t even shave.” She grabs his fingers and tugs them away from his collar, straightens his bowtie as he clears his throat.

“I haven’t shaved in 70 years. I’m not gonna start again for Stark.” He drops his forehead to hers, slowly slips his metal arm around her lower back, hand falling to her hip. He pulls her closer as he whispers into her hair, “I don’t deserve you.”

She smiles crookedly. “No. You don’t.” He leans in to kiss her and she pulls away, twisting out of his grip.

“Hey,” he whines, grabbing at her as the lightweight fabric of her dress slips through his fingers.

“No,” she says simply, moving to the side of the bed to put on her shoes. “I just got all of this right. I’m not risking it.”

“I told you how amazing you look, right?” he asks with an impish grin.

She shrugs. “If I opened my legs every time you gave me a compliment, I’d never get anything done.”

“I just wanted a kiss,” he says coyly, moving closer to her. “You’ve got a dirty mind,” he mutters into her neck as he nuzzles close. He wraps his arms around her, his hands parting the open fabric at the back of her dress. She jerks involuntarily as his cold metal fingertips begin tracing along her spine. He breathes into her ear, “Not that I’d say no to something more,” and he kisses her neck, again and again, slowly moving down to her naked shoulder.

She’s frozen for a long moment, balancing on one heel, her other shoeless foot dangling, toes skimming the carpet. But… “Nope,” she says finally, once his lips reach her collar bone. She pushes back and turns around, bending down at the waist to help her other shoe on. She presses her hip against his thigh as she does so. She looks back at him, all doe eyed and innocent. “Zip me up?” she asks as she slowly straightens, sliding her hand along the inside of his leg as she goes.

He lets out a strained laugh. “You’re evil,” he says as he works to find the zipper. He pulls it up slowly, teasingly, and lays a final kiss on her shoulder. “But I love it.”

“I know,” she says simply, striding out of the room.

He watches her go. The gold silk of her dress drapes loosely over her left shoulder, but it clings tightly to her waist, her hips. He watches as the shimmering fabric glides along her calves with every step, showing only hints of her left leg through the thigh-high slit. “You sure you don’t just want to stay in?” he almost whines, trailing behind her. “Think about it. You could ring in the new year with a bunch of stuffy billionaires – ”

“And my closest friends,” she interjects.

“Eating caviar and shrimp and champagne –”

“Three of my favorite things.”

“In a dress that looks really uncomfortable.”

“This fits like a glove.” She faces him, kicks her leg out from the slit in a mock-model pose, and runs her hands down her body slowly to prove her point.

He raises his eyebrows as he smiles. “Yeah, I can see that.”

“Were you about to give me an alternative?” she questions snarkily.

He clears his throat, redirects his gaze from her thigh to her eyes. “Or,” he intones, “You could spend the night with me. Here. At home.” He’s in front of her in two strides. “Naked.”

“How ‘bout this,” she begins, draping her arms around his neck. “You come with me to the party, which I have to go to because Tony would be heartbroken if I didn’t show –”

“Oh no. We wouldn’t want that.”

“And then, if you behave, I’ll come back here with you. And get naked.”

“How long do we have to stay?”

“’Til the ball drops.”

“Is that code for something?”

“No,” she replies deadpan.

She drops her arms from around his neck and turns to leave. It’s already after eight and this makeup won’t last all night.

“What does behave mean?” he asks, tugging at the fabric of his pants. Why were they so tight around his thighs?

“If you have to ask,” she throws over her shoulder, “then you’re probably not doing it.”

He lets out a resigned sigh, slumps his shoulders, and follows her out the door.

---

They’ve been at the party for a little over two hours – though it feels like a full eight – when he decides that he just can’t take it anymore. He’s pulling at his collar again, still actually. He’s been doing it all night, even after she loosened his bowtie, rolling her eyes dramatically and telling Steve to look after the wittle baby. “This is just…” he shakes his head, struggling to find the words.

“Lame?” Sam offers.

Bucky shoots him a glare, but nods in agreement. He takes another swig of his beer. “I can’t even get drunk.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve laments.

The three men have been clustered together for the better part of an hour now, close enough to the bar to ensure easy access to drinks, but as far as they can get from the throngs of people weaving in and out of the reception hall.

It’s pretty impressive actually. Tony – really Pepper – had managed to turn the wide open space that was at first designed to be a second training facility into a ballroom-like hall. It was also a bit ridiculous. Stark had decided to throw this New Year’s party as a sort of coming out for the new Avengers’ compound. Obviously people wouldn’t be allowed into certain areas on the campus. But the ones that did make the tour were practically given a complete makeover for the party. Nothing the men had passed outside of the living quarters was even recognizable to them.

The invitees were mostly politicians who supported the Avengers Initiative, big-wig contributors who had helped fund the new digs, and, of course, the press.

By now, Steve’s lost count of how many people have come over to him to shake his hand. Sam’s lost count of how many times he’s rolled his eyes when these same people ask him how he knows Captain America. And Bucky’s lost count of how many beers he’s gulped down, desperately hoping that if he has enough, he’ll feel at least a little bit tipsy.

“Tessa looks nice,” Steve says, looking out across the room at his friend. She’s mingling as part of the Avengers and Stark Industries, trying to raise funds for her research, get donations for additional equipment for the team, and, as Tony put it, boost the public image of the organizations by dazzling rich fools with her beautiful smile and brilliant intellect. Bucky thought it sounded like she was being used. Tessa thought it sounded like an opportunity to dress up and have fun talking about her work, promoting the deeds of her family, and also fleecing stuck-up politicians and millionaires out of tens of thousands of dollars… all for a good cause, of course.

“Nice,” Sam repeats, his eyes honing in on her. “She looks unbelievable.”

Bucky inhales deeply and almost growls at the man to his right, which elicits an actual giggle from the Falcon. Because unlike the two super soldiers, Sam can get drunk. And apparently it only takes four beers to get him there.

Bucky follows Steve’s eyes out into the crowd and he sees his girl. Her dress is a deep, luminous gold that shines in the low light of the hall. Her head is thrown back in an over-the-top sort of laugh. It’s not her normal laugh, no, but it still somehow seems genuine and completely true to her. There are multiple people gathered around her, including Tony and Bruce, all listening to her speak. He knew that Tony wanted her to talk about the medical wing on campus and all of the fancy tech in it. And he wanted her to talk up the wonderful staff, all of whom were being trained in emergency response so that Avengers would be able to “take care of the people whose lives they affected.”

But right now she just seems to be schmoozing, and doing a hell of a job at it. He can’t help but think, watching her shine at the center of all of these people, that she looks like the sun at the center of her own universe.

“I hate this,” he says for the hundredth time, as he downs the rest of his beer and turns towards the bar to grab another.

Steve sighs and follows him, places a hand on his forearm when he rests it on the bar, waiting for the bartender to stop flirting with the debutante at the far end and come serve him. “You know,” he says in that Captain America knows best way, “you could try to have fun.”

He whips around a little too fast, pulling his arm out of his friend’s grasp. “I am trying,” he says through gritted teeth.

“Try harder,” they hear Natasha voice from behind the bar.

“What are you doing back there?” Steve asks, brow furrowed.

Clint sidles up next to them – truly a stealthy agent as they hadn’t even realized he’d been in the building – and reaches out to accept the bottle of bourbon Nat just nicked. “This guy’s been playing favorites all night,” he says, gesturing wildly towards the bartender at the far end. “It’s like he doesn’t know who we are.”

Natasha pokes around beneath the bar for another moment and comes back with her hands full of bottles of beer. “For the all-Americans,” she says, setting them down in front of Bucky and Steve.

“Thanks,” Steve says, picking up a bottle and inspecting the label. “This isn’t American beer, though.” Fucking Stella Artois. Leave it to Stark to only offer expensive crap beer. Bucky takes a long pull from his bottle and continues to stew in silence.

Clint grabs a beer for good measure and leans on the bar in front of them. “So,” he says, looking at Bucky, “How was your Christmas?”

The soldier glances up and sees that Barton’s got a teasing glint in his eye and a shit-eating grin covering his face. He narrows his eyes at him, but says nothing.

“Tessa told him what she was doing,” Natasha mutters. He spins around to find the redhead suddenly at his shoulder. Freaking ninjas, he thinks, shaking his head.

“What was she doing?” Steve pipes up, clearly confused.

“Nothing,” Bucky responds.

“She gave him a homemade gift,” Clint tells the captain with a wink.

Before Steve can inquire further, Nat jumps in with, “Did she tell you what Barnes got her?”

He shakes his head. “I just got in. Haven’t talked to her yet.”

Natasha raises a single brow. “He bought her a Ducati. V4. 214 Horsepower.”

Clint’s mouth falls open. “No shit?” Bucky grins a bit and nods his head. “I got Laura a new washing machine,” he says absently.

“Thing’s a deathtrap,” Steve grouses. “A really nice deathtrap, but a deathtrap.”

“Really, Cap,” he says, sipping at the bourbon in his right hand while his left continues to hold tight to his beer, “if we only did the things you approved of, no one would ever have any fun around here.”

“Thank you.” Bucky takes another drink himself and gives Steve a side-eye glare. He really needs to stop talking about how dangerous the bike is. If he doesn’t, they might have more than just words.

“I’m just saying –”

“Stop saying and just drink your damn beer.”

“Drink my,” Steve breathes out. “Buck,” he starts, stopping suddenly and shaking his head. “I don’t know what your deal is tonight.”

“My deal is that I don’t want to be here, wearing this… thing. Drinking this beer…”

“Hanging out with these people,” Natasha quips.

“I like these people,” Clint says with a pout. He points at Bucky. “This one here, he’s half of my new favorite couple.”

“And that’s really the problem, right?” Steve asks with a quirked brow, a teasing note to his voice. “You just want Tessa all to yourself.”

“That’s very selfish,” Nat mumbles.

“Unless,” Steve starts, the glint in his eye growing, “you wanted to have her all to yourself because you wanted to propose tonight?”

“Propose what?” Clint asks flippantly as his eyes dance around the room.

Bucky gives his friend a derisive stare. “I just bought her a deathtrap,” he replies, no emotion in his voice. “I can’t afford a ring too.”

Steve glances over at Tessa and sees her talking rather intently with Bruce. But when she catches his eye, she smiles and waves. He waves back. “Well, you better ask for a raise then, because you cannot let her get away.”

“She’s not a wild animal caught in a snare, Steve,” Natasha chides.

“I’m just saying, you honestly can’t do any better.”

Clint and Nat both snigger under their breath as they silently slip away with their bourbon.

Bucky shoots Steve a sideways glare. “Aren’t you supposed to say something like, she’s a lucky gal? Or, even just I hope you two are happy together? You’re my friend. You’re not supposed to tell me I can’t do better.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you think that you can do better?” he asks with mock sincerity.

“No. But that’s not the point.”

“I’m her friend too. I knew her and loved her before you did.”

“Careful.”

“You know what I mean,” Steve chuckles.

“Yeah, well, I’m your oldest friend, your best friend.”

“Are you jealous of my relationship with your fiancée right now?”

“I’m just a little hurt that you think she’s so much better than me,” he says. “And she’s not my fiancée. Stop pushing.”

Steve sees Tessa and Bruce split apart, watches her politely shake hands with an older man before skirting past him, moving toward the bar. “Well,” he says, turning back to Bucky, “she’s an accomplished physician and geneticist. Even Tony thinks she’s brilliant, and in case he’s never mentioned it to you, he’s a genius. She’s obviously incredibly patient because… you. She’s funny, beautiful, and genuinely one of the most caring people I know. And she has superpowers.”

“Powers, maybe. But superpowers? Just relax there, pal.”

“And,” Steve adds, grabbing a beer for Sam along with his own and pushing off of the bar. “She will be your fiancée just as soon as you man-up and ask her.” He glances up and sees that she’s just a few strides away, so he nearly whispers the rest. “And she’ll be the luckiest gal in the world.” He pats his friend on the shoulder and nods a hello to Tessa as she approaches.

“Where are you off to?” she asks, noticing that he’s turning to leave.

He holds up the two beers in his hand. “Sam’s waiting,” he says simply, goofy smile on his face.

She looks questioningly at him as he walks away, noting the I know something look he had about him. “What were you two talking about?” she asks Bucky.

“Nothing,” he replies with a shrug. He pivots to face her. “You’ve been making the rounds,” he notes.

“Ah, yes. Boozin’ and schmoozin’,” she says, downing the rest of her wine and setting the empty glass on the bar. “How ‘bout you? Are you behaving?” she asks mockingly.

“Always,” he says with an all too fake smile.

Tessa laughs. It’s the laugh he knows, big and bright and breathy, not the laugh that he saw her doing for others earlier. She grabs him by the hand suddenly and pulls. “C’mon,” she says.

He finishes his beer and moves to quickly to set the bottle down, almost missing the bar as she drags him off. He has a sudden, terrible thought and says, “Do not force me into meeting people.” It comes out harsher than he intends, stern.

“You think I’d do that to you?” she asks, stopping short. He almost rams right into her, she halts so fast, and he grabs her around the middle to steady both of them. “Ye of little faith,” she says with a smile.

He looks down at her and notices the glassiness to her eyes, the crooked smile “How much have you had to drink?” he asks with a smile of his own.

“How much have you had?” she shoots back.

“A lot. But I can handle it.”

She snorts indignantly, an odd sound coming from such an elegant looking woman. And he can’t help but laugh. “I can handle it,” she assures him, turning and continuing to pull him through the crowd.

“Yeah, okay. Just don’t ask me to hold your hair back later when you’re puking up red wine everywhere.”

“I won’t,” she says, dragging him into the center of the giant room. They don’t stop until they reach the very middle of the dance floor. She turns to face him, wraps her arms around his neck, and says, “Dance with me.”

He moves closer to her, a little put off by all the people surrounding them. But his arms are draped around her waist and she’s already swaying to the music, and he can’t help but enjoy the feel of that. This he can do. He may hate being surrounded by all these people, most of whom he swears are staring daggers into his back. But having a dance with his girl is something he’d never disagree to. “Are you having a good time?” he asks her softly.

“Yeah,” she mumbles into his shoulder. “I am now.”

“Good,” he says, placing a kiss on her head.

The music changes pace slightly, but their slow rocking motion remains the same. She looks up at him, locks onto his brilliant blue eyes. “Thanks for trying,” she says with a small smile. And if that doesn’t just make him feel like crap.

He starts to say that he’s sorry, that he should’ve acted like a grown up and not some dumb, disappointed kid. He starts to say, again, that he doesn’t deserve her and that she’s the best and he’s the worst and dammit, he’ll try harder. Hell, he’ll just try, period. But he doesn’t get the chance to say any of it. Just as his mouth begins to move, he’s elbowed sharply in the side. He whirls around to see Stark looming with an playful grin on his face.

“Hey, Tin Man,” Tony says, giving him another little shove. “Move it or lose it.”

“Excuse me?” he asks, voice carrying just the slightest hint of an actual threat.

“I want to dance with my favorite team doctor.”

“Aw,” Tessa declares. “That’s so sweet.”

Bucky turns on her. “No it’s not. He’s interrupting.”

Tony just shrugs. “Fine. I guess you don’t want your Christmas present slash holiday bonus then.”

“Do I have to dance with you to get it?” she asks, suspiciously. “Do we have an HR department yet? Because I feel like that’s something that I could report you for.”

“Adorable,” he spits out. Then, whipping an envelope out of his jacket, “Here.”

She takes the envelope and gives it a little shake. “Doesn’t sound like anything breakable.”

He rolls his eyes and faces Bucky. “Really, how do you put up with her?”

“Is it cash monies?” she asks with an impish smile.

“Just open it,” he says exhaustedly.

She does, and her brow furrows as she pulls out a small packet. “It’s a plane ticket,” she says, confusion lacing her words.

“Two, actually. Round trip.”

“To the Maldives,” she says, still unable to make sense of it.

“Yep. I have a house there. Right on the beach. I don’t let just anyone stay there, you know.” He turns to Bucky. “And I will notice if anything goes missing.”

“I don’t understand,” she tells him. “You’re sending me to the Maldives? Why?”

Tony takes in a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. “My God,” he utters. “She doesn’t even know what a vacation is.”

“You’re sending me on a vacation?”

“Yes,” he nearly shouts. “How hard is that to decipher? Two tickets to a romantic, tropical paradise…”

Her eyes widen. “You’re sending us on a vacation?”

He leans forward and grasps her shoulders. “Look, kid, you’ve been putting up with a lot lately. I know I’ve been asking for a lot. But you do it… you do it everything I ask. Tonight… have you heard what people are saying about the plans for the med team? That might just be the biggest take away of this whole evening. And it’s all because of you.”

She shakes her head slowly. “The med team was your idea.”

“Yeah, fine, you’re right. I’m a genius.” He drops his hands down from her shoulders and takes hold of her hands, gives them each a small squeeze as he says, “But I couldn’t have done it without you.”

A bright smile slowly blooms across her face, the joy and appreciation radiating from her so intense that Bucky feels his chest tighten just watching her. “Thanks, Tony,” she says simply, a bit shyly.

“You’re welcome.” He drops her hands and spins around, patting Bucky roughly on the shoulder as he goes. “You leave tomorrow afternoon,” he throws over his shoulder.

“But – ” she starts.

She’s cut off by Tony’s shout of, “And I will get that dance,” just before he gets sucked back into the crowd.

[arcticdementor]

Recently, a lot of you who told me I was insane when I said that Winnie the flu was all theater and though it existed and was a flu and would probably take “severe flu, no vaccine numbers” it was and is stupid to lock the sick and the healthy in, destroy the economy and make everyone wear a mask, have come back and ask how I knew. And apologized.

Well, attention in the isles, my friends on the right: you are falling for the same king of bullshit diversion. You are being spun like a top. And you’re falling for it and falling in line.

I blame you and I don’t. You didn’t grow up with the constant-pretend-reality of communist psi-ops, and you haven’t learned to smell it.

Over and over again, you condemn Trump and the “rioters.”

NO ONE RIOTED. Not compared to this summer. THERE WERE NO RIOTS. And the protesters were treated with an iron fist and live ammo, btw.

There are videos. I don’t know which ones are still live. They keep removing them. There was no riot. There was a protest. You know, those things that are vital for public health?

Did they go into the Capitol? Yes they did. You know what? It’s a public building. WE PAY FOR THE F*CKING CAPITOL’S UPKEEP.

But, but but…. the congress critters ran. They were scared!

Were they now? WHY? No, seriously, why were they scared, if the people they work for want to watch the deliberations. They’re in our presence all the time. You know the worst thing we do — or used to do — we called them traitors. That was it.

But they vandalized Nancy Pelosi’s office! Oh, my stars and garters? Evil people. Was that before or after she vandalized our constitution and sank a knife in the heart of the republic? Is the evil bitch dangling from a lamppost this morning? No? They were civilized beyond all hope.

But Sarah, you’ll say, this will give them the excuse to avenge themselves on us.

Dear idiots, you’re like the wife with her arm in a sling and both eyes blackened telling her husband “Please don’t say anything to Joe. He’ll be mad.”

In other words, are you out of your ever loving little minds? These people STOLE two elections — it’s now absolutely obvious the nominal right is fine with this. They hope for crumbs from their masters’ tables. The left is more likely to kill them, but never mind — in a row, in full view, and refused to let us have our day in court to show the evidence. Because the American people are now peons with NO STANDING and can be disenfranchised with no punishment. But you’re afraid that largely (truly) peaceful protesters “made them mad?”

Withdrawing the objection to the fraudulent votes due to the riot? That only makes sense in the mind of an abuser. “I stole your thing, and I was going to maybe give it back, but you cried, so now you don’t get it back.” Are you all actually out of your ever loving minds to blame the protesters and Trump for this?

These people are saying “You peasants dared to show up in our presence. We’re now going to take away even the illusion of franchise.” And…. you’re cool with this? It’s the protesters fault?

Get up off the floor. Wipe the blood from your lip. KNOW WHO YOUR ABUSER IS.

And BTW it’s not Trump. Trump thought maybe if congress saw how ad people were, they would play straight. I said before that’s all the protest was about, and that’s all it was. He told people to go home when it was obvious it had failed.

And I hope to G-d someone with access to him reads this and tells him it’s time. Take the family NOW and go to an undisclosed location. As much as it hurts me to say this, because I want him to continue harassing the left, he has to realize this is no longer the sweet land of liberty. This is now a tyrannical third world shithole. Or will be within months from the way our occupiers are behaving. They will find a way to kill him and his whole family, or kill him and turn his family against him. Go Mr. President. G-d bless. You’ve done all that you could. If the so called right in this country will pearl clutch and blame even people who engage in a very mild protest, they deserve what’s to come.

He now promises an orderly transition. I will tell all of you that DEAD is the most orderly of all states. And right now the Republic is effectively dead. There might be a hope for CPR, but I’m not sure there’s the will to apply it. Pence has joined the rats fleeing to the lefty rotten ship. because he hopes that will save his life. Spoiler, it won’t. The left will kill all the right who turns their coat. Because they can’t trust them. Good. They deserve it. I shall eat popcorn.

Do we ever get the republic back? I don’t know. I think the most likely thing is that we fall apart into separate states while around us the world falls into chaos, famine and misery. We’ve been feeding the world for a century. The world had better look to itself now.

What do those of us who’ve sworn an oath to the constitution do? I don’t know. Most are still busily doing a Peter in Pontius Pilates Yard “I was never with him.”

Oh, and there’s talks of rounding up Trump supporters. Of denying them flights and hotels and the ability to engage in commerce.

I suppose that’s the “protesters” fault too? Except that that, like the paper to withdraw objections because of the “protest” were already written. They would have found an excuse.

I don’t want war. But I liked having a homeland. To everyone who, like me, came here as the last place of refuge: I’m sorry. I don’t even know what to tell you. We need to fight this, but even if we do, unless the natural-born citizens see what they’re losing, it’s unlikely we’ll ever get our country back.

This morning, in DC, the police are beating down what remains of protesters. A young woman was murdered in cold blood yesterday.

And our side is pearl clutching and tut tuting, and hoping the abuser won’t get mad. Oh, and talking about 2022, because seeing two elections frauded RIGHT BEFORE THEIR EYES and courts refusing to let anyone see evidence of it is not enough. They need to be stomped on some more before they believe they’ve lost the franchise.

Me? I’ve seen what happens when your votes don’t matter. Elections will continue as a form, possibly for fifty years, if we let this bullshit go on that long. Your next president after Commie laWhorish is Michelle Obama, because the ignorant bitch hasn’t shit on us enough. She felt stupid and inferior at Harvard, and by gum, she’s going to make you grovel to pay for your sins.

But your real masters are now Winnie the Pooh and his merry band of fascists. And we know what they do and how.

I can’t get the order, but we’re about to see: social credit; the banning of conservatives from the internet; branding us as terrorists, just as they’re doing to innocent protesters; show trials; people disappearing; our money confiscated; our houses confiscated; more lock downs, to prevent revolt; more masks to promote alienation; more lies.

When people die in the famine to come, it will be Covid-19 and Trump’s fault and you’ll be required to repeat it publicly.

It wont’ last. These commies are industrial-level STUPID. It won’t last. I give them ten years, maybe, before most of the country is starving, and they have no clue what to do about it. And then it all falls apart, because unlike Venezuelans, we have no one to help and no place to run to.

Or, you know, we can stop pearl clutching and say “Hell no.” and “Molon labe” and stop repeating the lies the left wants written into history.

To lefty idiots: yes, the election was stolen. Because if it had NOT been, the left would have joined the right in demanding the courts take the case, and that it be shown to all as an honest election. Also, to lefty idiots, what the protesters — and all of us at home — want? ANOTHER ELECTION with minimum accountability. I mean, we can’t even clean the roles. There wouldn’t be enough time. We just wanted to make sure each person voted only once, and the votes were counted with full supervision.

Instead, you’re handing off the country to China, via their bought and paid for man, Biden. Yes, I know you heard good things about China. You’ll find out, along with the craven right that the leftist press makes Pravda seem honest. Enjoy the ride.

As for you and me, my friends. We’re going to eat the bread that the devil baked. Save what you can from the ruin. It won’t be much. And don’t let them into your head. NEVER let them into your head. They’re invaders. They’re oppressors. They’re thieves. Treat them as what they are. Do not comply unless you have to, and then engage in malicious compliance.

Keep the republic in your heart. Maybe there are enough of us left that it will rise again. But in the meantime, this is going to hurt and hurt badly. And the longer the restoration of law takes, the higher the butcher’s bill.

Most of you have no idea how bad it will get. Imagine your worst nightmares. Then double them. Prepare for that as best you can. You won’t be able to do much. If you’re lucky they’ll leave you your conscience.

Your country was invaded (even if the invaders were born here, their masters aren’t) and is about to be raped. The least you can do is not cooperate.

[cartoonrants]

my theory on why older audiences don't like modern-day cartoons

if i were to walk up to any random kid at my high school and ask them about the cartoons they grew up with they would speak really highly of them on the other side of the coin when i ask them about newer cartoons they tend to say they’re bad kid shows that have been dulled down or aren’t as edgy as they used to be 

with the end of adventure time this has become more and more obvious, people suddenly being reminded that adventure time was a thing that they liked and feeling sad about it ending even though they haven’t watched the show in years and probably wouldn’t have ever watched it again obviously there isn’t a problem with feeling sad that a show you enjoyed as a kid but don’t watch anymore is ending my problem is with the way these people started acting toward modern day shows

obviously, if you stopped watching adventure time around season 4 (like most high schoolers did) and randomly picked up again at the season finale you’re gonna have some questions

why are Marcy and PB kissing instead of Finn and PB???

who the hell is betty???

why is ice king a human???

who are these gum people??

what the hell happened to Finn's arm???

and so many more reasonable questions

what i didn’t appreciate is the way these people started a new wave of hating modern cartoons in place of learning anything about them

more than ever I’ve seen people talking about the fall of children’s entertainment saying it’s not as good, and it’s only aimed at children and adults can’t enjoy it like they used to be able to. they claim that with the end of adventure time so dies the children’s entertainment industry

now i love cartoons from the 90s and early 2000s just as much as the next person if not more but these cartoons are no better than modern-day shows

obviously there are going to be shows that aren’t as good at entertaining a more grown-up audience shows like teen titans go, Clarence, uncle grandpa, and the majority of modern nick toons (excluding the loud house) aren’t very popular with older audiences for a reason but shows like steven universe, star vs. the forces of evil, Voltron, she ra, the amazing world of gumball and so many more cartoons are excellent examples of modern-day cartoons that can appeal to older audiences but they still get hate from people claiming cartoons aren't as good as they used to be

but what is it about these shows that makes them seem bad to the newly grown generation??? 

this is where i belive nostalgia kicks shows like regular show, adventure time, and avatar the last Airbender are some of the most talked about cartoons when discussing good old cartoons that gen z enjoyed and i doubt that anyone reading this is gonna argue that these aren't BOMB shows i mean ive seen them all, all the way through more than a few times but the fact that these shows are good isn't what made older generations that don't like the shows now like them 

the reason these people liked them was THEY WERE KIDS they enjoy these shows and think highly of these shows because they watched them when they were young if they were to watch modern day cartoons at a younger age they would probably have the same opinion so why do people feel the need to hate on a show that they probably would've enjoyed had they been born a little later?

that takes me to my next point the reason these people think modern day cartoons suck is cause *drumroll* they've grown out of cartoons, sometimes when you surround yourself with more grownup content that's filled with violence, gore, and sex its harder to come back to the innocence that surrounds the child entertainment industry even if the show has deeper darker themes you have trouble enjoying something that lacks shock and is just a simply good show

when people are exposed to mature content they become numb to the shock value and start to expect it instead of being surprised by it so if you have been watching shows where any and all conflict is solved by gory bloody violence you're gonna have trouble watching star narwal blast her enemies away or if you've been watching shows where all of the humor is rated R you're not gonna losing breath over lemongrab asking PB to unmake him 

so, in conclusion, the idea that the modern day cartoons lack some secret edgy ingredient or some dark theme that made them entertaining to older generations isn't true they are still entertaining, dark, and interesting what's changed is the people and what they find entertaining so maybe if you find yourself thinking that cartoons aren't as good as they used to be watch a new one you might find yourself pleasantly surprised 

[rpgsandbox]

Welcome to the Weird West of Deadlands, the original horror western roleplaying game!

In this award-winning, best-selling setting, gunfighters, braves, hucksters, martial artists, shamans, mad scientists, the blessed, and more square off against far more than desperate bandits. An event called "The Reckoning" awakened an ancient evil, and you'd best hope the howls you hear on the High Plains are just a pack of ravenous wolves...

"The Year is 1876, but the history is not our own..."

These words introduced Deadlands to the world back in 1996, spawning decades of amazing tales and memorable monsters. Now the granddaddy of Horror Western games is back with a brand new edition.

          The cover that started it all, the original Deadlands, by Brom!

It's now 1884 in the official timeline. The Civil War ended in 1871 at the Battle of Washington, an epic conflagration of steam and steel. The Great Rail Wars are over as well, finishing not with a whimper but the bang of  Dr. Darius Hellstromme's ghostfire bombs at the gates of Lost Angels.

Even the Servitors, the Reckoners' chosen champions on Earth, have been defeated—at least for a while. Reverend Grimme vanished in a massive flood that destroyed his city, Raven's Last Sons were defeated by the Great Summoning, Stone was foiled in the barren expanse of Death Valley, and Dr. Hellstromme's latest scheme to open the gates of Hell proved fruitless.

We told the tale of the Servitors in four Plot Point Campaigns, still available and ready to play with just a little tinkering for this edition on our website!

In response, the Reckoners have turned their blasphemous gaze back to the grassroots of evil. They've given life to dark desires and horrible abominations that live in the shadows of the isolated frontier, far away from the attention garnered by the overt plans of their Servitors.

The heroes of the Weird West join with the secretive Twilight Legion in the distant outposts, chaotic boomtowns, and lonely settlements of the West to fight evil and quell the fear that gives the Reckoners their power.

So gather your posse of heroes and hit the trail, from the frozen north to the arid deserts of the Southwest, from the industrial East to the fractured canyons of California's "Great Maze."

The Weird West awaits with adventure, mystery, and more monsters than you can shake a Peacemaker at.

       Think these Mojave rattlers look nasty? You should see the rest of it!

Deadlands is the long-awaited return to Pinnacle's oldest and most popular setting. First published in 1996, the original "Deadlands Classic" system won countless awards and its bold, bright orange books are still a striking and valuable addition to gaming shelves the world over.

For those who want the whole experience, Deadlands has a rich and varied history to explore!

Deadlands has told some epic tales since it first burst onto the scene in 1996, but you don't need to be steeped in its storied past to join in the hootin' and hollerin'. If you're an old hand, we think you'll find it both familiar and refreshing.  If you're new to the world or setting, this is the perfect time to join the wagon train (and if you've lapsed, we forgive you for that, partner). We've recapped and summarized the monumental events of the last 24 years so you can catch up.

This new edition is the biggest revamp of the game's background and rules since the Reloaded edition from 2005. It's been revised, rewritten, and refocused by both Deadlands Line Editor Matthew Cutter and original creator Shane Hensley.

All the rules have been updated and adapted to the latest version of the Savage Worlds Adventure Edition.

Arcane Backgrounds are tightened up. Those nasty Harrowed had the same overhaul we gave them in Lost Colony (including letting the Devil out!). There are new and streamlined rules for dueling. And of course a passel of new Edges, gear, infernal devices, and powers to blast the tarnation out of the creepy crawlies coming to do your party in.

For you Marshals (that's what we call our Game Masters), there's a comprehensive overview of the Weird West after the events of the Servitor Plot Point Campaigns, including new plots, perils, and intrigue for cowtowns, boomtowns, and old favorites like Lost Angels, Tombstone, Deadwood, Dodge, the City o’ Gloom, and a few new locales we might surprise you with! And of course this handsome tome also includes enough rascals, varmints, and critters to keep a posse busy 'til doomsday.

This is more than just a rules update--it's a world update! And check out that gorgeous new graphic design by Karl Keesler, with art by some of the best in the business!

Now that the tales of the Servitors have been told in their individual Plot Point Campaigns, Deadlands is returning to its roots with more local yarns of dread, terror, and violent action. The new edition and supplements to follow turn their baleful eyes from the world-shaking events of the Reckoning to isolated frontier towns or sinister machinations in the few larger settlements. The Twilight Legion must root out the evil that lurks in all-too-human souls, the lonesome hills nearby, or the dark woods at the edge of town.

To showcase the return to more personal tales of horror and adventure, we've created the Horror at Headstone Hill campaign set!

The campaign features a single county in Wyoming and the terrors that lurk in a booming mining town and environs. Your heroes roam about the map, interacting with the locals, solving mysteries, fighting abominations, and—with luck and a steady shootin' iron—eventually lower the "Fear Level." That's how you defeat the Reckoners' terrorforming, amigos, and Horror at Headstone Hill showcases it front and center.

               The Horror at Headstone Hill Campaign Boxed Set!

The Deadlands: Horror at Headstone Hill Boxed Set contains an introductory booklet on the region for the players with notes from Tombstone Epitaph reporter Lacy O'Malley and the Twilight Legion, a Marshal's guide detailing all the locations on the map and a full sandbox-oriented Plot Point Campaign, a poster-sized map of the county, and a selection of player handouts to drive this incredible tale of six-guns and sorcery to its bloodstained conclusion!

Something happened at Devil's Tower recently. Something terrible. A being called the Cackler raised a powerful sorceress of legend, Morgan Le Fay, sending ripples through the many worlds of Deadlands. From the Dark Ages to the far future planet of Banshee in Lost Colony, the "Morgana Effect" has caused subtle changes from the world we knew before.

The Cackler and his unholy posse ride the range in this world-changing graphic novel by Shane Lacy Hensley!

The Morgana Effect is a big story that ripples (quietly for now) through all the settings of Deadlands—including the upcoming Deadlands: Dark Ages, the Weird West, Noir, Hell on Earth, and already released Lost Colony. It's also a story-based reason to change the rules and some parts of the setting we've been hankerin' to adjust for a while. You can read more about the latter here, but we think even those of you who have been with us since '96 will welcome the changes once you take 'er for a test ride.

Over the years we've seen some amazing gaming setups, but collecting and painting a comprehensive collection of cowpokes and critters can be both time consuming and expensive. That's where the Deadlands Pawns come in.

The Deadlands Pawns Boxed Set contains over 100 Deadlands characters and critters printed on thick punchboard!

We've created a selection of heroes, villains, and monsters in thick punchboard (the sturdy stuff board game tokens are made from) to represent some of the most common and iconic encounters in the Weird West. These figures are even die-cut to the contour of the character image to make each pose as dynamic and striking as possible.

The Deadlands Pawns Boxed Set contains 8 sheets of thick punchboard, containing over 100 pawns to bring the Weird West alive on your tabletop. If the set does well, we will expand the line to include additional Deadlands sets and pawn sets for our other lines.

The core book for Deadlands: The Weird West is a 192-page hardcover book, in our usual "graphic novel" size, and glorious, bloody, full-color throughout. That amazing cover is by Aaron Riley, a fan favorite of the entire Savage Worlds line!

The Deadlands the Weird West Core Boxed Set includes a copy of the hardcover rules as well as a brand new poster map of the Weird West by the phenomenal Cheyenne Wright, a set of 25 Bennies, a set of custom-colored dice and Wild Die, and a Game Master's screen and introductory adventure, Double Down at Sundown, by Rob Wieland!

Want to see the new screen? Here it is, partner! The tri-fold screen is our usual landscape format with gorgeous art on one side and all the charts and tables the Marshal needs on the other!

The new GM Screen for Deadlands: the Weird West! Click here to view Federico Musetti's gorgeous art as a larger image.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Wed, May 13 2020 6:00 AM BST

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