#where in his first appearance its just the two of them being dumb theatrical for no reason. its very cute

[isaacathom]

thinking about the hornblower/bush pleading paragraph again and being reminded of a scene earlier in that same book where hornblower is trying to tell bush about how he can navigate and demonstrating the math for him and all bush can do is nod dumbly and admire hornblower's delicate and nimble hands

[elemental-daddy-neos]

What are everyone’s teams in your Pokemon au? Do you have a plot set out or is it a more causal au?

Oooooh this is a fun one

You'd better fucking BELIEVE we have a plot set up, I have poured so much effort into the Pokemon au

Okay, so: when it comes to teams, I decided that everyone should have at least one legendary Pokemon in their party as a way to be faithful to the ace monster concept, but it wasn’t until much later into the au that I realized I’d failed to do that with Sora’s team, which led to a very fun plot point involving his secret 7th Pokemon he keeps in his box

Teams under the cut because it’s gonna be a long one, boys

Yuya has: Groudon, Sandshrew, Popplio, Hippopotas, Aipom, and Ekans

In his box, he’s got Phanphy, Charmander, Politoad, Ducklett, Liepard, Skorupi, and Lycanroc (Midnight form)

I wanted him to have as many Pokemon as he could that reminded me of the monsters in his deck, and since Yuya is a coordinator in this au instead of a regular trainer, it just felt right that he’d have a lot of different partners he could swap out for various contests

Also I’m mad that there isn’t a legendary dragon that looks like Odd Eyes, so I had to give Yuya Groudon instead, making him the only Yu boy in this au to not have a legendary dragon type Pokemon

Yuto has: Eternatus, Bisharp, Aegislash, Aggron, Lucario, and Shadow Rider Calyrex

Okay listen, I know I was supposed to only give everyone One legendary Pokemon, but with Calyrex I feel justified because it looks So Much like it could be one of Yuto’s Phantom Knights, I mean

Just look at it

Yuto gets to have two legendaries to make up for Arc-V killing him off so early into the show

Aside from this guy, the rest of Yuto’s team just felt like it should be comprised of steel types ow the edge so that’s what I gave him. His Pokemon are as edgy as he tries to appear to be and that is enough to amuse me.

There also weren’t exactly many good Pokemon equivalents of his archetype, so I made do with what I had.

Yugo has: Latios, Scizor, Claydol, Porygon 2, Ponyta (Shiny), and Sudowoodo

Yugo was honestly so hard to come up with a team for because all his Speedroid cards are just like... toys and stuff for the most part, so I agonized over what I should pick for him for a Long time. In the end, I feel like I got close enough to his general aesthetic with the Pokemon I picked.

(His Ponyta is there because of Speedroid Horse Stilts, and while it is a shiny, the dumbass has no idea about it, and thinks he just happened to get a special blue horse that was born a little differently- he never claimed to be smart.)

He also deadass thought Sudowoodo was a grass type for the longest time. Rin had to be the one to tell him it wasn’t. 

“Yugo. Sudowoodo? It sounds like pseudo? As in fake wood?”

“Ohhhhh is that what its name means? Wow Rin you’re so smart.”

No Yugo you’re just exceptionally stupid.

Yuri has: Naganadel, Seviper, Victreebel, Toxicroak, Vileplume, and Roserade

For the most toxic of battlers, I felt it only necessary to give Yuri an all poison type team. I included an even mix of plants in there to tie into his Predaplant deck, Seviper for the snake eye vibes, and Toxicroak... just feels right, you know. I couldn’t find any other poison plant themed Pokemon that seemed like they’d fit his vibe, so he gets a poison frog instead.

Yuzu has: Meloetta, Sylveon, Meowstic (Female), Gardevoir, Florges, and Jigglypuff

I tried to stick with Pokemon that had very feminine vibes for Yuzu, since her deck is comprised of pretty singing ladies, so Meloetta and Jigglypuff in particular feel very fitting in that regard.

Serena has: Cresselia, Delcatty, Glameow, Lopunny, Persian, and Pyroar (Female)

The moon vibes with Cresselia felt perfect for Serena, and as for the rest of her team, all cats and a bunny to pay homage to her Lunalight deck ^^

Rin has: Celesteela, Mismagius, Hatterene, Glaceon, Froslass, and Chimecho

Her team vibes with the witch part of her Wind Witch deck, at least for Mismagius and Hatterene. Glaceon, Froslass, and Chimecho are there due to the etymology of her name, where possible meanings of it include “cold” and “bell”, which I thought was pretty cool, no pun intended.

Ruri has: Galarian Articuno, Pidgeot, Noctowl, Chatot, Altaria, and Unfezant (Male)

Some softer birds for the soft bird girl, for the most part. I liked the thought of her team being all birds like her Lyriluscs, and just... yeah. They’re all very friendly birds that Ruri’s bonded pretty closely with. Also I made sure she had Galarian Articuno for no reason other than it is purple like her, and I think that’s all the reason I need.

Gong has: Kartana, Machoke, Samurott, Golisopod, Hariyama, and Conkeldurr

Gong was really easy to assign a team to- just had to find as many samurai themed Pokemon as possible, and fill in the rest with really strong fighting types, like Machoke, Hariyama, and Conkeldurr.

Shingo has: Type: Null, Dusclops, Misdreavus, Spiritomb, Decidueye, and Cramorant

With Shingo, I tried to go for Pokemon that had the same vibes as some of his Abyss Actors, and I think Dusclops is the best example of this. Tbh I am very proud of giving him a Type: Null because Type: Null is an amalgamation of other Pokemon, something that was created in a lab to be a fighting machine. There’s nothing natural about Type: Null, and it’s kind of terrifying to Yuya specifically, who’s always viewed Pokemon as creatures to befriend. This experiment created purely to kill... unnerves him, and serves as a very good foil to his beliefs when it comes to Pokemon.

And they were narrative foils

Oh my god they were narrative foils

On a sillier note, I chose Cramorant purely because of this quote from its bulbapedia page: “Cramorant are also rather unintelligent as they can't remember which Pokémon they fight in mid battle, but never forget Trainers that they trust. However, they try to attack their Trainers if they steal food from them.”

I just thought the idea of Shingo having this dumb bird that occasionally pecks at him over food would be funny tbh, gotta dunk on the rival at least a little bit.

Sora has: Banette, Vanillish, Swirlix, Stufful, Litleo, and Buneary

In his box, he has a Guzzlord

I feel like Sora’s team is very straightforward, as it’s a mix of sweets themed Pokemon, and Pokemon that represent monsters in his deck- Stufful for Flufflal Bear, Litleo for Fluffal Leo, and Buneary for Fluffal Rabbit. Guzzlord... is relevant later on in the plot after shit goes down, that’s all I’ll say for now.

Masumi has: Diancie, Sableye, Corsola, Aurorus, Tyranitar, and Lycanroc (Dusk form)

Gem Knight girl deserved to have a bunch of good rock type Pokemon, and Diancie is like. The best possible legendary I could have given someone like her lol, the crystal aesthetic is just perfect for her. Not much to say here honestly, I just really vibed with these specific rock types and thought they’d make a good team for her.

Yaiba has: Zeraora, Kecleon, Pangoro, Scyther, Purugly, and Stantler

So I actually threw this list together just now because I realized Masumi was the only member of her trio to have a full team, and that just wasn’t right. I tried to base this team off the XX-Sabers as well I could, but it was a little hard with how many humanoid cards Yaiba has. With his legendary, I actually chose it based off this monster right here! 

I think they’ve got similar enough vibes aesthetically for Zeraora to fit him. Scyther is based on Emmersblade, Kecleon on Ragigura, Stantler on Garsem, Purugly on Gardestrike, and Pangoro... Honestly, it just makes me think of Yaiba himself when I look at him. I think they’d get along well.

Hokuto has: Deoxys, Espeon, Grumpig, Starmie, Lunatone, and Malamar

Psychic type Pokemon just sort of felt right for him to have, considering that his deck is based on constellations and has an overall space theme to it. Not sure why that translates over to psychic in my brain, but you know what, it looks right, I love this team for him, and I’m not gonna question it.

I especially think Deoxys makes a good legendary for him considering it is literally a space alien, and Hokuto’s whole thing is space, so yeah, he gets to have the space alien.

Shun has: Galarian Moltres, Skarmory, Fearow, Dodrio, Staraptor, and Talonflame

Pretty straightforward team I feel- it’s all birds of prey for the Raid Raptor boy, and I just thought the Galarian version of Moltres was neat. Makes me think of his Blaze Falcon since they’re both black and red.

Dennis has: Hoopa, Mr. Mime, Delphox, Zoroark, Alakazam, and Hawlucha

Hoopa seemed like a very good legendary for Dennis to have, given his deck archetype and all, he just kind of looks like a little circus dude. Its unbound form makes me think about the swap Dennis has when it gets revealed that he’s actually been a double agent the whole time, and the play gloves finally come off.

The rest of his team... I feel like they speak for themselves. I tried to give him Pokemon that matched up with his deck archetype, so there’s Delphox to rep the fire themed monsters, Mr. Mime because it just fits Dennis’ general personality- and I love the thought of those two being friends and just copying each other’s theatric poses. Chaotic dynamic duo.

(Also: Zoroark's ability letting it disguise itself as another Pokemon is just another parallel to Dennis pretending to be one of the good guys at first, and I love it)

Shinji has: Buzzwole, Beedrill, Vespiquen, Ribombee, Kricketune, and Leavanny

I tried to give the bee man all the bees I could, but there are only so many bee Pokemon out there 😔 I knew the rest of his team had to be insect types to make up for it, so I picked Kricketune because he is just... a friend... a musical buddy who definitely gets along well with the kids. Leavanny is just a bug mom who also helps patch up the kids’ clothing when they get tears in them, which I just love the idea of. Sweet bug mom whose dex entry talks about how they sew for other Pokemon looks after her trainer’s kids when she’s not battling.

Buzzwole: witness the fitness

Throwback to the Smash Bros mains lmao 

Crow has: Murkrow, Braviary, Starly, Swellow, Pikipek, and Corviknight

Bunch of birds for my Blackwing user... This team was partially picked out by June, and it was mostly meant for the Other Pokemon au, but I don’t really see a reason to change his team here. Crow is the one person without a legendary on his team, which makes me sad, but there really isn’t a legendary bird out there that fits his vibes, so as much as I wanna give him a legendary, he will have to make do without one. Sorry Crow.

Hoo... that’s finally all the teams down. Now I can talk about the plot! So, as I briefly mentioned in a previous post (I think), this particular au is inspired by Pokemon Diamond/Pearl/Platinum! It’s the era where contests really became a big thing, which is perfect for a lot of these characters because it’s easy to translate dueltaining over to coordinating in this world. Much like in canon, Yuya aspires to be as great a coordinator as his dad was, and strives to entertain people the way Yusho could. He’s not much for battling, and far prefers getting to show off his Pokemon’s talents in contests than anything. 

Academia is going to play the role of Team Galactic in this au, which is incredibly fitting with their mission in canon: to remake the universe in their leader’s image. In this case, with Leo Akaba taking on the role of Cyrus, his intent is, presumably, to either destroy the universe that took his daughter from him, or create a new one where she can live once again, no matter the cost.

Sora being a key member in Team Galactic is a very big part of the plot in this au: his mission was to capture one of the lake legendaries, Uxie, since Leo needed all three of them for his plan to remake the universe, but things don’t exactly go well for him, and he ends up losing his battle against Uxie, resulting in all of his memories being locked away, and essentially making him a blank slate.

Side note: the Galactic grunt haircut reminds me a lot of Sora, I mean just look at it

Practically same bangs as him, just add an upturned ponytail and you’ve got my son.

This post is getting very long... but I will add one last plot related thing to it before I go: Uxie can erase memories, Mesprit can erase emotions, and Azelf can erase willpower. All three of these lake legendaries play a very important role in the plot, due to being the keys to Leo Akaba’s plans to remake the universe. Sora was touched by Uxie, effectively doing away with all memory he has of being in Team Galactic. Yuya ends up touched by Mesprit in an attempt to save them, and subsequently loses his emotions as a result. Riley?

Riley had been affected by all three of them before the plot began, which is why she is the way she’d been in Arc-V: Emotionless, unable to remember anything about her past except for those brief, fleeting flashes of memory when put into certain situations she’d experienced before, and without any will of her own. She’s so dependent on her older brother because she quite literally has no clue what to do with herself without being told to, and needs orders to function.

Hoo, if you’ve made it all the way to the end of the post, congratulations! I think this is the longest one I’ve made... ever lmao. I hope you guys found it enjoyable! If anyone wants to know more about certain aspects of this au, feel free to ask! I look forward to talking about it more c:

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs “Duct Tape”

I was challenged and the challenge was accepted. Thank you  @cyberstrikebeast​ for the suggestion! Also thanks and credit to @impalalord​ for the original post where the idea was suggested to me, and the original inspiration. 

https://impalalord.tumblr.com/post/187591145361/finds-duct-tape-humans-were-here

The intergalactic technology summit was an annual event, or at least it happened once every agreed cycle. Members of the GA excitedly brought forward their best advances in the past year to share with the convention center. This was the first year that the humans had been invited. Of course, at such short notice the humans had only been able to send a few delegates, who were ordered to ‘pay attention, take notes, and most of all, see if there is anyone who would be willing to let us test it out.

For that reason, Commander Vir of the UNSC accompanied Earth’s representative rocket scientist. At first, the two humans had been a bit wary of each other one being primarily a military man and the other being primarily a rocket scientist. First impressions were a bit deflated as the scientist assumed the big, muscular soldier would be bored, stuffy, and kind of dumb, while the soldier assumed the small, tweed-wearing scientist would be boring, stuffy, and kind of condescending. Of course, upon spending the next ten minutes with each other it turned out that geeks come from all walks of life, and by the time they reached the summit, a friendship was forming.

They stepped through the doors with their badges on and allowed both of their mouths to drop open. It was no secret that humans were not far on the end of the technology spectrum. In fact most of their gear was rudimentary if not laughable to other species like the Vrul or the Runid who used anti gravity systems instead of engines to propel their rockets into the sky. There were entire rows dedicated to the advancement of medical science which made humans look like an automobile chop shop where people go to get sequentially dismembered by rusty saw blades.

The Geek fest that followed would have been laughable for an outsider, but with the two of them it was simply a reason for excitement. They pranced about the convention, the rocket scientist asking dozens of questions in an attempt to understand the technology, while the soldier took every opportunity he could to test the object personally no matter how dangerous it may have been. Generally, together, they made a decent team, and the scientist came to find that the soldier was not, as it originally seemed, and idiot. Any technology involving aviation, despite him being a rocket scientist, was quickly overshadowed by the knowledge of this man, who had operated, fixed and MacGyvered most machines without a comprehensive knowledge of physics.

They were sitting down to lunch as the soldier was explaining, “And that’s why the T-8 doesnt work despite being good on paper simply because of human error. Its counter-intuitive and unless trained out of old habits, the pilot is going to crash it.”

The scientist frowned, “Well alright, but the T-8 system is the perfect model. It works with the least amount of energy drop-off, and can be cooled faster and more efficiently than other systems. Its use would revolutionize space flight.”

“And I get that obviously, its super awesome in theory, but I’m telling you the T-8 is not compatible to the way that pilots think, especially under stressful situations. The brain sort of goes back to its original programming while the T-8 forces you to do internal calculations, which is the reason that they constantly crash. I flew one once for like ten minutes and wanted to smash my head into wall after using it.”

“Well…. I suppose-”

“Try to automate the thing, and I bet a computer will fly it just fine, but keep out the human component-” At that moment, the scientist opened his mouth to speak when a group of aliens walked up from ne of the isles, a vrul, a rundi, a tesraki, and a finnari.

“Good morning humans, we are pleased to see that you were able to arrive today.”

The scientist squirmed in his seat nervous and out of sorts, but the soldier simply smiled and launched into his greeting with the ease of a born extrovert, “And it’s a pleasure to be here. I have to say that we are beyond impressed at what we have seen today.”

Together the aliens hummed in appreciation, “we are pleased to find that there is something we can do that you humans haven't already mastered.” 

With a wave of his hand the human brushed off the complement returning it, “Please, you give us too much credit. Our science is practically in its infancy in comparison.”

They spoke for a few more minutes before the aliens paused looking at them expectantly. The scientists glanced over at the soldier with a confused expression which was unnervingly returned in equal measure. 

“Well?” The Vrul wondered.

“Well what?” 

“Well, where is your piece of technology. That is what this conference is for after all, to share your inventions with the world.”

Together the human’s hearts dropped into their stomachs and they glanced at each other with wide panicked eyes, “We were supposed to bring an invention?”

“Of course….” The aliens glanced at each other, “Do you no have one.”

“Well I n-”

“Of course we do! Just messing with you, obviously.” The scientist turned to look at the soldier with a panicked expression of warning eyebrows raised almost to his hairline.

“Don’t tell me you forgot about our invention, Dr. I mean it is one of the most important pieces of technology in human history.”  He continued to glower in panic, what was this blabbermouth doing. It was like watching a man stand with a shovel in a hole seven feet deep and insist he wasn’t digging his own grave.

This was going to be the single most embarrassing moment of his career.

The soldier nudged his ribs, “You know, THAT technology.”

He cleared his throat in frustration and nodded, “Oh yes of course….. I’m sorry I just got so….. Excited that I blanked for a moment. Why don’t YOU show them. You are so much better at  these things than me.”

“Er….” The soldier began, “Of course I will. Hold on and let me grab it real quick.” He stood up setting his bag on the table and then began rummaging through it.

The scientist put his head in his hands, unless he had an antimatter core shoved in his bag they were fucked.

The human held up a finger as the aliens looked on expectantly, “Hold on just have to find it first…..” The scientist felt as if he was about to puke. Then the soldier’s eyes lit up, and his face was crossed with a massive grin. “Ah there it is.” The scientist looked on in confusion

The aliens leaned forward as the human stood taller hand still shoved in his bag.

“What I am about to show you may well be one of the most important inventions is the history of humanity, Nay! The history of the galaxy, single handedly responsible for human innovation 

Beyond the warp core, beyond life support and anti gravity, this is the single most important invention to ever grace the field of human scientific knowledge. Its application is endless as a multipurpose tool and is so adaptable it can be used for ANY, and I mean ANY application.”

The aliens sat wide eyed and the scientist leaned forward with bated breath. What could be so grand that the soldier could spin a lie like that and get away with it. He didn't appear to even be breaking a sweat.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and distinguished others, I present to you the….. The multifunctional Universal Unilateral Bonding Strop.” With a theatrical flourish worthy of a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat, the soldier withdrew his arm from the bag and raised his hand high into the air, where light from the ceiling caught and reflected off its shiny silver surface….

“Duct-tape.” The scientist blurted in consternation. Voice cracking with near laughter and disbelief. 

The soldier gave him a warning look and then nodded, “Yes, of course, Dr. More formally known as duct tape.”

The aliens gathered closer in curiosity, “It doesn’t look like much.” One of them pointed out

But the soldier looked at him with an expression of hurt consternation, “I assure you, it's everything I said it is and more, originally invented in 1943 by a Vesta Stoudt, who was trying to find an acceptable replacement for less durable cloth tape. It was originally intended for use in sealing ammunition boxes, but soldiers later determined that this little miracle could fix anything from achinery to boots, to weaponry. I guarantee you wont find a human that doesn't have some.”

He stepped forward proffering the material for closer inspection.

“What is it made from.” One of the aliens wondered.

The soldier paused then stammered, “Well I…. Um its made of.”

“Well it can actually be made of any number of things.” The scientists piped up, “It is very versatile that way. The woven fabric base can be made of anything from cotton to nylon to fiberglass, specifically designed for flexibility. The back was originally coated with waterproof polyurethane and then coated with the adhesive. The same process is generally used though there are many different varieties. The more plastic the adhesive backing, the more water tight and so can be used to stop leakes, repair pipes, seal gaps and any number of other applications. They even make a more durable reflective variety that is heat resistant, so can be utilized at high temperatures.” 

He turned to glance at the soldier who was beaming openly at him, winking his one remaining eye before turning to the aliens.

“You said it can be used in all applications. Explain.”

“Well I am glad you asked.” The soldier began taking a deep breath, “I've personally seen it used to repair shoes, cars, machinery, pipes, clothing. It has the ability to incapacitate a human ...” He paused there to let that sink in, “It is used to make art, and clothing, hold things together, seal packages. In large concentration it is strong enough to hold a grown man off the ground. I’ve seen it used to make a boat, and once, an entire airplane, with additional equipment of course. Pretty sure someone made a cannon using it once, but that could just be a myth.”

“Point is.” Said the scientists, “Humans use this for everything, and though it is an old invention it is one that deserves to be shared across the galaxy.”

The Vrul crossed his arms, “That is a big claim to make for such an object.”

“Yes.” A Tesraki piped in, “You sell well, but business is business. If the product isn’t up to scratch than how can we trust it.”

“We must have a demonstration.”

The human grinned in response, “Well, I am glad you asked.” He held the roll of tape up picking at the edge with a fingernail before withdrawing a long strip. The sound it made was a satisfying sccriiiitch and then tear as he pulled a piece off sliding the roll over his hand to hold it on his wrist. He held the two ends between his fingers and flexed the strip between his fingers, “See completely and entirely flexible.  

One of the aliens frowned, “I thought you said it was supposed to be durable, but you just tore it in half.”

The human frowned, “Well that is one of the great parts of this tape, tear it just right, and anyone can use it, but exposed to pulling or twisting forces it is difficult to break. Let me demonstrate.” He grabbed the piece of tape by either end and then began to wrestle with it. Instead of breaking the tape stretched and strained slowly pulling apart until eventually it snapped causing the human to stagger a bit.

“See now imagine multiple strips all working together.” 

The aliens muttered. The scientist stared on in awe, they were actually coming around. He glanced towards the soldier with a look of disbelief. The bastard had done it, he had actually done it. Sold a 2,000 year old invention as the most important piece of technology in human history.

The soldier was grinning as he tore a few more strips from the tape handing them out, “Here take a pice, try it out for yourself.”

The aliens tentatively did as told and what ensued was an amusing spectacle of aliens confusedly trying to unstick the tape from their fingers, accidentally sticking it to themselves, and then begging for help in getting it off. A Vrul danced around in circle shaking his hand but the tape wouldn’t let go . This little show had drawn a crowd, and others came forward to curiously sample the strange human invention.

Warp reactors, and medical science was ignored in favor of the humans and their single roll of tape.

When they finally got the hang of using the sticky one sided adhesive the aliens suddenly became obsessed with what they could stick together. Chairs were hung upside down to tables, people’s hands were tied together. One of the Vrul was taped to the floor. The front doors to the convention were sealed shut.

Pandemonium ensued as tape was wrapped around anything that seemed even mildly broken.

To everyone’s surprise, a vrul who had recently received an injury to his helium sack, sealed the hole with a piece of tape, and was able to return to floating within a matter of seconds.

Somewhere in there the Commander and the rocket scientist lost sight of the role, only to find a rundi taped to the wall looking slightly beleaguered a few minutes later.

They stood together at the center of the convention floor staring around as aliens stuck things to other things, waved their hands about, and generally turned the center into a house of complete chaos.

The rocket scientist leaned in, “What have you done.”

Wide eyed the soldier turned to look at him with a grimace, “Er….. I have no idea.”

They looked around surveying the carnage made by one role of tape. There was a slight ripping noise and they turned to see the doors finally opening strings of cut tape billowing in the air rushing out onto the street. Drev security walked in accompanied by a Rundi oversee who paused in the doorway in consternation staring at the carnage. 

Aliens everywhere, and two well-behaved humans standing in the middle of it.

He rubbed his eyes and rechecked as if he was seeing things. Generally when something like this happens you would expect to find the humans being destructive, not the other, generally mild species. 

The soldier shrugged raising his hands in a ‘we had nothing to do with this’ sort of gesture. The rundi didn’t seem convinced.  

It took several hours to deal with the aftermath, and it only stopped when a Tesraki returned to the soldier holding the cardboard center of the role looking saddened by it’s loss, “Do you have more.”

The soldier rubbed the back of his head, “Afraid you used my whole role, but I am sure we could come to an agreement about getting you some.” The Tesraki nodded in a subdued sort of way, handed him the used up role and then slunk away. The Rundi overseer glowered at him with  an ‘i knew it’ sort of expression.

Walking out of the convention well into the night after being forced to help clean things up, the scientist looked over at his companion, “That was some serious silver tongue shit back there. How did you do it.”

The soldier simply smiled and shrugged, “Sort of just came to me.”

“If that hadn't worked, we would have been screwed.”

He waved a hand, “Nah, I wasn't worried.”

“Speak for yourself. I was close to pissing myself.

Just then the scientists phone began to ring. He was getting a patched in transmission from his superior back on earth and motioned the soldier to stay quiet. He answer the call and put it on speaker, “Yes sir.”

“I’m just calling to see how the convention went?”

“Uh….. well it went fine considering the circumstances.” The scientist stuttered.

There was a pause over the other end of the line, “What does that mean.”

He shuffled his feet nervously not entirely sure how to say this, “Well, as it turns out that being invited to this thing meant we were expected to bring an invention.”  

He heard shuffling on the other end of the line and some muffled cursing, “Shit, I had no idea. I’m so sorry. How did you handle that mess?”

He scratched the back of his head feeling a smile broke out across his face, “Ur…. well lets just say we should make a note to the UN that, if anyone asks, duct tape is the most important piece of technology ever invented.” 

[kenzieam]

Us This Way - Oneshot

Rating: M

Warnings: Angst, heartache, some language ****TRIGGER WARNINGS****

Word Count: 4417

Tags: @jewels2876​  @moonbeambucky​  @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123​  @iammarylastar​ @captstefanbrandt​  @badassbaker​  @pinknerdpanda​  @oliviastan17​ @mizzzpink​​

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Okay, so this frickin’ song gets me every time.

Kudos to the beautiful Lady Gaga for this hauntingly beautiful gem.

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Lev swallowed past the lump in her throat, skimmed the note in her hand one last time. She’d wrote and rewrote the words so often in her head she knew them by heart, but it didn’t make reading them any easier.

James,

By the time you sober up and read this, I’ll be gone.

I can’t do this anymore, the drinking, the fights, the lies.

You aren’t the same man I fell in love with, and I can’t say anymore that I’m the same girl you knew either.

When we started this journey, you told me things would never change; that it would be just the two of us, against the world, travelling and sharing your music and voice and I, naively I guess, believed it.

But everything is different. You’re drunk all the time, drinking to excess and its only going to be a matter of time before your followers see it too, there’s already gossip on the fan sites about your behaviour.

And I’m not leaving because of that, I could deal with the alcohol if it weren’t for the craziness that comes with it.

These women aren’t here for you, they’re here for the idea of you, the Rockstar, and I can’t watch you take them into your hotel rooms anymore, I can’t hear you through the walls with them.

I deserve better and, to be honest, so do you but I can’t help you anymore.

God knows I’ve tried.

I hope one day you find peace and closure from whatever haunts you so badly and discover your voice again.

I love you; I always have.

I always will,

Levi

A tear burned hot down her cheek, but she wiped it away absently, clearing her throat. She’d already wasted so many tears, she couldn’t spare any more.

Laying the note silently on the bedside table, Lev took one last lingering glance at the man, her former lover and friend, current rockstar touring and conquering the world, now passed out face down in the hotel bed, back scratched and red from his latest groupie foursome she’d chased out just minutes ago, two or three empty liquor bottles visible among the tangled sheets, then turned and left the room.

*******************************************************************************

A throbbing headache dragged him from oblivion later and, for a time, James just lay there, eyes half-open, trying to piece together the last hours.

He remembered two, or was it three? Groupies: giggling girls with fake tits and trout pouts, wearing little more than ace bandages and laughing at his every word like he was the most charming asshole on Earth and everything that fell out of his mouth was pure gold.

Lev had never put up with his shit. She’d always set him straight with a few well-chosen words, a sharp glare with her hypnotizing violet eyes.

Come to think of it, where was Lev? Usually she was prodding him awake by now, pushing coffee into his face, talking about getting up, getting showered and getting on the damn bus.

Bottles clinked as he moved, struggled in the tangled sheet to push himself upright. His back stung and faint memories surfaced, one of the harpies scratching him, moaning theatrically as he fucked her, wishing it were Levi beneath him still instead of this random stranger.

God, he hoped he’d worn a condom, not that it stopped theses psychos; Christ, every week there was a new accusation, a new girl stepping forward claiming he’d impregnated her.

Thank fuck for his lawyer, Sam Wilson; the man was a gem, with the retainer bills to prove it.

“Lev?” He croaked, wincing as fresh pain shot through his skull.

No answer.

“Lev!” He chanced a shout, growling and grabbing his throbbing temples. “Fuck, where are you?”  

He turned his head, squinting before freezing as his glare landed on the letter.

***********************************************************************************

“So, you just left, huh?” Steve asked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass, and staring at it contemplatively.

“Yeah, same as you.” There was a hint of venom in Lev’s voice and the blond man smirked.

“Yeah, same as me. Got tired of the shit.”

“Everyday.”

Steve sighed, staring out at nothing, thoughts a thousand miles away. “Remember when we first started out?”

“You, me and James in that old van? Driving from bar to bar and playing for peanuts?”

“You’d go up on stage when he reached for you, join him for a few songs?”

Lev sighed sadly. “Long time ago, man. We were just fucking kids.”

“Yep, but you two? Timeless. I remember when I first saw you. First day of grade three in Ms. Hawthorn’s class; James elbowed me and said, ‘that’s the girl I’m going to marry’.”

“He did not!” Lev fought a smile, she’d heard this story so many times, her reaction varying from honest disbelief to warm-hearted nostalgia depending on how fresh her latest pain was.

“He did.” Steve replied, smiling fondly. “Couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Yeah, well… something else has caught his eye now.”

“You can’t save him, Lev. He has to want to save himself.”

“I know… it just hurts.”

“I know.” Steve murmured quietly. “I know.”

*****************************************************************************************

‘Rockstar James Barnes’ newest run-in with the paparazzi, next on TMZ’

Lev groaned and turned off the TV, throwing the remote onto the scarred coffee table.      

Obviously, he was perfectly capable of carrying on with his shenanigans without her, not that her pleas for him to stop had ever fallen on anything but deaf ears.

She glanced at her cell phone, then cursed and purposefully looked away. Every day for years she’d seen his name come up on her display, multiple times a day, through the night and she’d come to expect it.

The calls after she’d left had come heavy and hot, barely a pause in between except for increasingly abusive texts and voicemail messages. When they had changed to broken, mournful, pleading messages she’d thrown her cell away, smashed it for good measure.

It was just habit to look for his name now, a useless throwback.

She had left a month ago and James’ spiral of self-destruction was becoming a nightly news story.

She didn’t envy Pepper, his long-suffering publicist, nor Nick, the rep from Fury Records; word was both were close to dropping him soon, if he didn’t get his act together.

Cursing herself afresh, Lev reached for the remote and flicked the set back on. She was a fucked up as him sometimes, intent on making it hurt.

James’ face appeared on the screen and Lev was shocked at how haggard he now looked, pale and drawn. His hair was lanky, in his face, clothes wrinkled. As the paparazzi swarmed him, leaving the latest club, he glanced up at the cameras and Lev was struck dumb by the utter misery on his face. His eyes were red-rimmed, either from sleep problems (something he’d had more than his share of in the time Lev had known him) or he’d taken up hard drugs.

The pap screamed questions at him, jostling each other and him as he struggled through the mob, the slightly shell-shocked bottle-blonde woman on his arm being all but dragged behind. What security James hadn’t chased off was all but overwhelmed by the reporters and fans, light flashes strobing the scene.

“Just leave me the FUCK alone!” James roared, pushing hard at one spectacled paparazzi, knocking him to the ground and only inflaming the mob more.

Lev felt a surge of fear, mixed in with a healthy dose of rage at the sight. Someone could easily get hurt tonight, lines could be crossed that would never be forgotten. James was juggling with the remains of his career right now and he had the shakes.

“Are the rumors true?” One pap screeched.

“Where’s Lev?” Another yelled and Lev winced. They were still asking him, four weeks into her departure.

“Is the picture of you snorting a white substance outside The Down Low real?”    

Shit.

James didn’t answer beyond a wild-eyed sneer then he was scrambling into a large black SUV, the confused milling of his few remaining security guards telling Lev they hadn’t expected him to drive; then the SUV was screeching away, paparazzi and security scattering like flies, their shouted questions turning into screams of shock and fear and Lev clapped her hands to her mouth, biting back her own scream.

He had totally gone crazy; without Lev there to anchor him, he was dangerously adrift.

The clip ended and the TMZ crew started rehashing it, some expressing sympathy for James and others outright condemning him for losing his shit so badly.

“Does anyone know where she went?” Harvey asked, sipping on his trademark straw.

“Who, Levi Riel?” One the lackeys frowned in confusion.

“Who else?” Harvey laughed. “I mean, James Barnes was a wild man before but now he’s completely off the rails. Something’s happened there but his camp won’t comment. Any luck on contacting Lev herself?”

They’d tried, endlessly, until Lev had smashed her phone and gotten a new number; so far, that hadn’t been leaked but the pap was sneaky and resourceful, Lev had been in the spotlight long enough as James’ gal Friday to know how it worked and she didn’t expect to remain incommunicado forever. Besides, she was already fielding calls from other musicians, hearing she was free and desperate for her services. So far, she’d said no, it was still too raw for her to go back into the industry, but her savings wouldn’t last forever.

Would she be alright? Running into James at an award show somewhere, contracted to another singer, seeing him with some other woman (not that that was in any way new), or perhaps worse, doing just fine now without her? How long would he last like this? There were plenty of examples out there of musicians who’d self-destructed, died by suicide or misadventure, and if James had been spotted snorting white powder already, he was well on his way to joining the club.

Her phone rang and Lev almost dropped her glass, despite staring at the damned thing almost compulsively looking for James’ name, the sound still made her heart race.

“Hey, Steve.”

“You saw that?” His voice was resigned. “TMZ?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Every miserable second.”

“You going to tell me to go back to him?” A part of Lev wanted Steve to say no, but a larger part wanted to hear yes.

“No. I was going to tell you to make sure you stay the hell away. This isn’t your mess anymore, hon.”

“But… my leaving-”

“Didn’t do anything, he was already circling the drain, you were right to get yourself out when you did.”

Lev blinked back tears, wiped them angrily away. “When did it all go so wrong, Steve?”

He exhaled sadly. “Who knows? After Clint overdosed?”

“After my miscarriage?” Lev whispered, the memory of James holding her, crying with her on that hotel bathroom floor, blood smeared on her inner thighs rushed back into her mind’s eye.

They… he’d wanted a child so badly, back in the good years, when they’d lay sated and exhausted in bed together, murmuring softly before sleep claimed them both.

“I want a baby,” he’d whisper, eyes searching hers. “You’d be such a good mama.”

“Not right now,” she’d always answer, although the thought of growing round with his seed sparked heat low in her belly. “It’s not the right time, you’ve had five consecutive number one hits, you’re on top of the world.”

“We are.” He’d reply, reaching up and stroking his calloused thumb over her bottom lip.

“Maybe.” Steve replied softly. “It’s still not your fault, Lev.”

She couldn’t hear anymore; the memories were rushing back too hard and too fast. “Goodbye, Steve.”

********************************************************************************

A part of her expected the call, and she reached for the phone, half-awake, when it rang sometime after two a few nights later.

“Miss Riel?” A clipped, professional voice. “This is Dr. Keening from the UCLA Medical Center, I'm calling about your husband, James.”

********************************************************************************

Lev wouldn’t let herself examine the reasons why she dropped everything and booked the next flight to Los Angeles, maybe it was seeing him so distraught on TV, maybe it was thinking about their past; the way he’d held her so tightly, so lovingly, even as he cried so hard with her that night, the realization so fresh that their child, almost too early to even be called a baby yet, had left them already.

She gave the Uber driver directions then leaned back in the seat, staring out the window without really seeing and, all too soon, the car was pulling to a stop in front of the hospital.

The sterile smell inside made her stomach roil and she almost turned around and left, then squared her shoulders and pressed the elevator button for the right floor.

A nurse directed her to the correct room then had the grace to leave her alone. Lev milled around the hallway for a beat, chewing on her lip and struggling to find a reason, any reason, why she should walk through that door.

This…. He wasn’t her problem anymore, she’d left.

But they could both use some closure.

He was asleep when she entered the room but before she could turn around and leave his eyelids fluttered. He’d always been able to sense when she was near, and that connection apparently hadn’t faded in their separation. The instant his gaze landed on her the cloudiness vanished and a desperate, clinging hope took its place.

“Lev?” His voice cracked with exhaustion, his hand shaking as he reached for her and Lev was surprised by how hard it was to not step forwards and take it, smooth back the dark hair plastered on his sweaty forehead. He’d lost weight, dark rings under his eyes, the muscles that always flexed so deliciously as he moved fading away.

She squeezed her fist around the handle of her bag and waited, not moving forwards.

His fingers twitched, confusion joining the hope. “Levi?” His voice was plaintive.

“What are you doing, James?” She clipped.

“What?” His brow furrowed, his breathing beginning to speed up. Finally, he dropped his hand, pulling it back into his lap, fingers clenching.

“Acting like this? Getting caught by the gossip rags snorting coke? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He’d obviously not expected to be chastised and wasn’t that the heart of the issue; he’d always gotten his way before, the coddled rockstar, no one calling him out with any degree of seriousness, no one but Lev anyway and she’d always caved before laying out any real boundaries, never done something so extreme as leave before.

Was that why she’d come back then, because she felt responsible for this?

The furrow in his brow deepened, the simple hope in his face vanishing. Now came the temper, the short bursts of fury meant to force his will, likening him to a spoiled child, an attitude that Lev regretted not shutting down years ago when it first started raising it’s ugly head.

He stared at her, eyes dark and wounded, “you left,” he hissed.

“I couldn’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” A compulsive snap, he knew exactly what she was talking about, but he’d never owned up to it, never, not once.

“Watch you with all those girls, see you take them into your room, hear you fuck them through the walls, chase their skanky asses out the next morning so I could get you out of your drunken stupor and looking like a human being only to have you treat me like a piece of shit by doing it all over again the next night!” Lev hissed, enraged to feel the prick of tears in her eyes.

For a moment she was surprised to see betrayal flash through his eyes. “They don’t mean anything. They’re just groupies-”

“So that makes it alright? And telling people I’m your wife? What the fuck, James?!”

“Well, you should be!” He snarled. His arm snapped out, sweeping across the rolling table hovering over his bed, loud crashes sounding as everything on it hit the floor. “I fucking asked you enough times!”

He had. So many times, and every time she’d said ‘no’. What had held her back?

“Grow up.” Lev snapped, her face heating. How many times had they argued like this? How many times had they danced this twisted dance?

Too many fucking times.                    

“Fuck you.”

“No, James. Fuck you. I’m done. I don’t know why I came here anyway… I’m, I’m done. Have a nice life, what’s left of it anyway.” She turned to leave before the fury she was feeling was overwhelmed by the hurt and disappointment; what had she expected? Why did she always do this? Hadn’t she learned yet that he would never grow up and be the man she saw deep inside him? When would she stop hurting herself trying to draw that out?

She needed to stop trying.

“Hey. What are you doing?” James demanded but Lev ignored him, marching back out the door she’d just entered moments ago. “Hey!”

Lev stopped and took a deep breath, collecting her words. Without turning she swiveled her head enough to look at him.

“I’m done, James. I can’t watch you self-destruct anymore. I tried for years to be there for you, because I love you… but I can’t do this anymore, I need to live my own life.” Without waiting for an answer, she swiveled back, let her feet carry her away even as she felt her heart break anew in her chest.

If this was the right thing, why did it hurt so bad, why did she feel like she was abandoning him just when he needed her the most?

“Levi!” His voice broke on the scream, reverberating around her in the hallway but she didn’t turn back.

******************************************************************************

Ten Months Later

Lev sorted through her mail, separating the junk from the real then paused, lifting a large, cream coloured envelope from the pile.

Who sent letters anymore?

Splitting the seal, Lev pulled out folded sheets of thick paper, the same colour of the envelope, definitely expensive. As it opened, another smaller piece of paper fell out and Lev reached for it, brows drawn in confusion.

JAMES BARNES – STRIPPED BARE

A SPECIAL EXCLUSIVE, ACCOUSTIC ONLY ENGAGEMENT

She stopped reading, dropping the ticket to the table, and focussed on the letter instead.

Levka.

It’s been a while since we spoke, but I wanted to send you this anyway.

I understand why you left, and I applaud you for having the strength to do it. It seems to be the kick he finally needed.

James took a break from music, as you may or may not have realized but has recently decided to return, albeit in a much different capacity from before.

He has done away with the show, or ‘bullshit’ as he so eloquently puts it. No more pyrotechnics, no more lightshows and theatrics; he said he wants to return to the way he started, just him and his guitar, the band behind him.

Enclosed is a ticket to his first show and a plane ticket, first class, to reach it. The seat is in the back, where James won't be able to see you, if that is your wish.

I leave it up to you whether you attend but understand that James has not asked me to do this, and I have not told him I have.

Regards, Pepper

Lev stared at the letter for a full minute, marveling despite herself at the publicist’s flowing handwriting, her graceful hand.

She had stayed with James after all, even when Lev had left.

The second sheet was a printed plane ticket, leaving the next morning. Lev, if she took it, would land in mid-afternoon, giving her a few hours to gird herself before going to the show.

She recognized the venue listed; James had played it in his earlier years, just as he was starting to become famous and it was smaller, intimate, suited to an unplugged show. The seat shown was in the back, just as Pepper said; Lev could attend the show and leave again without James ever seeing her.

But did she want to?

What would it feel like to see him again, to hear him sing again the way he used to, his voice clear and full? When he’d reach his hand out to her, pull her onstage and sing with her, gaze at her so lovingly as they shared a microphone, voices melding and complimenting each other so beautifully?

Could she handle seeing him again?

She hardly knew.

*************************************************************************

Taking a deep breath, Lev opened the door and stepped inside. Other ticket holders milled around, no one paying her any mind. She prayed no one would recognize her, going so far as to dye her auburn hair a lustrous blue-black, switch out her contacts for the thick wayfarer frames she usually only wore in quiet moments spent relaxing or working from home.

The show was going to start in only a few minutes, but Lev resisted the urge to find her seat just yet, drifting until she gathered the will to enter the main area.

Finding her seat, Lev stared at the stage, hardly noticing as others shuffled to find their own places. Although small, the venue appeared to be sold out. Scott sat at the drums; Thor held an acoustic bass and James sat on a stool at the front, head bent over his favourite redwood acoustic guitar, the one he’d always said reminded him of Lev’s hair.

One jean-clad leg bent, worn biker boot on the footrest, he looked better than Lev remembered. Some of his physique had come back, thigh straining the jean’s stitching, biceps visible through the t-shirt he wore as he plucked the strings slowly, listening for the sound.

He looked good. He looked healthy again, his hair lustrous under the light, cheeks dark with just the right amount of stubble, fingers strong and sure, the boot flat on the stage floor tapping slowly to the beat in his head.

Lev felt a riot of emotions swell in her chest. This was the James she’d fallen in love with, the man she’d spent their early years with, before the vampire of fame began to bleed him dry.

He lifted his head, flashed a gorgeous smile at the audience and the show began.

It was beautiful, James’ voice strong and clear; the audience sat spellbound, hypnotized and Lev knew he’d made the right decision; to go back to his roots, let his talent speak for itself. He would enjoy a long career like this, unplugged and real.

Time passed like the blink of an eye and suddenly, too suddenly, James was standing, setting his guitar in its rest and stepping to the side of the stage. The spotlight followed, leaving Thor and Scott in the dark and illuminating a gleaming grand piano. The audience cheered in building excitement as he sat, adjusted the microphone.

He had not played piano is one of his shows for years, Lev wasn’t even sure he knew how to anymore.

The din died down, waiting and James looked out over them as he began to speak, a small, sad smile pulling at his lips.

“A while ago my life fell apart,” he stated simply. “I got tangled up in fame and being a rockstar and pushed away everyone that cared. Even Lev, the most important person in the world to me.”

Lev felt her cheeks warm, edginess creeping into her limbs. Was he about to blast her? Was she about to get her proverbial ass handed to her? Did he know she was here?

“She left,” he continued. “And I crashed. The only woman I’ve ever loved, and I hurt her everyday until she couldn’t take my bullshit anymore.” He swiped at a tear and Lev bit her lip.

“I hit rock bottom and Lev came to see me one more time. But instead of being grateful, of begging her for another chance, I acted like a total asshole and pushed her away again. And that was finally it, Lev leaving me like that was the push I needed to get my life together. I haven’t seen Lev since, I don’t deserve to…. but I owe everything to her.”

Lev heard sniffles around her.

“A while ago I heard this song for the first time. It made me cry like a baby and I listened to it for hours, until I couldn’t cry anymore. It brought about this idea I had about ‘stripping bare’ and starting over again…. This song is for you, Lev. I love you, baby.”

He focussed on the keys and a haunting melody began. Lev recognized it immediately, for it too had provoked her own tears the first time she’d heard it.

That Arizona sky burnin’ in your eyes.

You look at me and, babe, I wanna catch on fire.

It’s buried in my soul, like California gold.

You found the light in me that I couldn’t find.

His voice was heart-breaking, emotion pouring through as he sang, the piano a poignant, moving accompaniment, his fingers sure on the keys.

So when I’m all choked up,

But I can’t find the words.

His voice broke, but he pushed through.

Every time we say goodbye baby, it hurts.

When the sun goes down

And the band won’t play,

I’ll always remember us this way.

The band joined in quietly and Lev was lost in the sound, swaying slightly to his beautiful voice as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Too soon, the song ended, James’ head bowing as he breathed the last words, the last notes fading and the audience sat still, stunned silent for a beat before exploding.

Lev exhaled raggedly, wiping at her tears. As she watched, James tipped his head back, tears shining on his face and swallowed hard, seeming to gather himself before returning to the show.

The crowd continued to scream and cheer as James nodded once in acknowledgement, the smile on his lips tempered by the pain in his eyes.

He was open and vulnerable, stripped bare and he’d never been more beautiful in Lev’s eyes.

God, she still loved him, but was that enough?

Was she the key to his success, or the poison?

Should she go to him, step through the crowd and join him onstage, forgive him and start their next chapter together?

Or leave, let them both live their lives and follow the song, simply ‘remember us this way’?

She decided.

[avaantares]

Artemis FOUL: A Disney+ Dumpster Fire

Soooo it had been a kind of rough week for a variety of reasons, and a few of my friends/family wanted to kick back and do something mindless over the weekend, so we ordered pizza from one of our favorite local places, I set up a screen and projector in the driveway, and we had an outdoor/socially-distant movie night. Since several of us had read the books, we decided to watch the new Artemis Fowl movie on Disney+.

We knew from the trailer and its 10% rating on Rotten Tomatoes that it was not going to be a good movie. But I had not been prepared for... uh... what is quite possibly the single worst film I have seen released in YEARS. I can’t imagine this insult to cinema having an actual theatrical release (which it was intended to, before the pandemic shut down theatres). I haven’t seen the Cats movie, but I imagine this aggregation of waterfowl* could give it a run for its money.

Not only is it a bad adaptation of the books (and by “adaptation,” I mean they used a couple of names; the story and characters are utterly unrecognizable), but the script is like something a teenager would turn in for a class assignment. No, scratch that -- I’ve actually read better writing by teenagers. Plot points are explained to the audience three or four times by both characters and frame-story narrator (apparently the writers thought viewers were dumb and wouldn’t catch on?). There are missing connecting scenes. The villain is actually played by three different actors using a hood and voice modulation, because apparently they couldn’t decide whom to cast in the role. There are multiple significant plot threads that never get wrapped up. The pacing is a mess. The characters are devoid of personality or charisma. There is some truly hideous CGI.

But all of that is just (grossly) bad filmmaking. The film is worse than that -- in fact, in light of current events, it comes across as not only tone-deaf, but actively offensive.

I’m sure someone in an office somewhere thought it would be a good idea to mix up the casting of book characters a bit, to add some diversity. At first glance, this seems like a good idea: LEP Recon commander Julius Root has been switched to a female role, played by Dame Judi Dench, and Artemis’s bodyguard Domovoi Butler and his sister Juliet are played by Black actors Nonso Anozie and Tamara Smart, respectively.

Don’t get me wrong -- I am actively in favor of diverse casts and strong female roles. The problem here is 100% in the execution. Because I think we can all agree that bad representation can be even more harmful than no representation at all, and this is some bad representation.

For starters, Juliet -- a kickass martial artist in the books -- has been stepped back to being Butler’s Domovoi’s 12-year-old niece. (The movie is insistent that he is not to be called Butler, which might pass for awareness if not for the rest of the script. In the books, it’s actually a characterization point that he is only to be called Butler; in fact, Artemis doesn’t even learn his given name until book 3.) When this younger Juliet was first introduced, I thought, well, it’s a kids’ movie, maybe they want to include a younger female character to act as an active role model for girls watching? NOPE: Juliet has speaking lines in only about three scenes in the entire film. In two of them, she is bringing sandwiches to other characters. In another scene, we see her sitting alone in the kitchen while the rest of the characters are off doing plot-related things.

That’s right. Disney added a young Black girl to the cast just so she could serve food to her uncle’s rich white employer.

There is literally no other purpose served by her character in the film. She’s conspicuously absent from (and irrelevant to) key plot scenes, and the only thing she accomplishes in the entire movie apart from serving food is, in one scene, she looks at a monitor and reports on the weather conditions. That’s it. Honestly, it would have been better to leave her character out completely, rather than have this token appearance characterized by inactivity.

[Warning: Spoiler ahead!] And then there’s Domovoi himself. In the books, Butler (who possesses extensive martial and tactical training, as well as superhuman strength) earns the fear and respect of the fairies by singlehandedly holding off a rampaging troll. In the film, he is not only completely useless in the fight against said troll -- scrappy little Artemis gets more hits on the beast than Domovoi does -- but he is actually killed (temporarily, because magic) saving Artemis in the troll fight. In fact, he’s the only named character with an onscreen death in the course of the entire film.

Or, as my sister put it, staring at the screen with her jaw hanging: “Did they cast a Black actor just so they could have the Black guy die first?!”

To top off the dubious optics of both of those character choices, the apparently-progressive move of changing Root to a female character is undermined by the complete nerfing of the story’s female lead, Captain Holly Short. In the books, Holly is a whip-smart, no-nonsense officer who acts as a foil for the wily Artemis; in this film, she’s reduced to a novice recruit who technically has some agency, but her personal motivation (what little she has of it) revolves solely around her father, and is so poorly conveyed that our viewing group had an ongoing discussion trying to determine exactly what she was doing and why throughout the film.

The worst thing is that some middle executive somewhere is probably patting himself on the back for facilitating some “woke” casting, because look! There was a racially-diverse cast! And Strong Female Characters(TM)! when in fact the entire film was not only a crock of pure garbage, but insulting garbage. Both my intellect and my social sensibilities feel bruised after viewing.

I wish Disney+ had a “rate this film” feature, because I would leave a smoking hole where the star rating should be.

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

* This is a term my sister and I coined to (politely) describe something that is a complete and total disaster. I’m sure you can parse its meaning when you consider that an aggregation of waterfowl might also be described as “clustered ducks.”

[voidcat]

Intrusion

– 4: gone with a snap (wc: 1.9k)

prev ; next ; m.list

a/n: another filler. sorry i forgot to upload the other remaining intrusion chapters from ao3 to here,,, i’ll upload other two in the following days.

After that day out, everything seems to fall back into place and regain its old rhythm.

Except that Iwaizumi becomes a part of the said rhythm of your life now, conversing and interacting with him a lot easier and almost refreshing.

What he said about your view of people seeing you play plays on loop in your mind but in a way, it feels like a breaking point on your journey of friendship. It feels good to step outside your comfort zone once in a while.

It’s funny how sudden some changes can appear before someone.

The first school day since your little hang out and you’re awfully cheery. Waking up in a good mood, not cutting conversations short; not even a certain teacher’s discriminating opinions can burst your bubble.

Your friends notice the sudden change during your typical lunch meet up.

It starts with wondering where some of your friends are. Ever since the rearrangement, it feels harder and harder to stick together.

“I heard the MUN club is holding a meeting during lunch break.”

“Again? This is the 3rd time in the last two weeks. Can’t they do that after school?” Okemia’s sudden outburst catches you off guard and causes Etsuko to drop one of her cookies. Meanwhile Ayame is nodding approvingly, backing up Okemia as always.

“Yeah because every single club wants to create a gap between us and the boys.”

“Well, they could be! They might be planning for it right now and we would be none the wiser!”

“A little bit of a reach, don’t you think?” Koto says as she sits down. The rest agrees in silence.

Everyone finishing up with lunch and occasionally eyeing the distance in case anyone else shows up, time passes by like that. Leaning against the tree behind you, you start watching the blurry figures in the distance, eyeing the leaves once in a while and getting cozier.

Startled by the sudden poke by your ribs, you break out of your trance.

“And what about you? You have been awfully quiet lately…” You slowly turn to Okemia.

“Not that it’s bad!” She adds worriedly. “It’s good to see you feeling, better. But at least one of us is there to witness the reason behind it. So… Spill.”

“I- spill what?”

“It’s the one you saw this weekend, right? It has to be! What else could you have done without us that would cause such a-“ She moves her hand rather dramatically, all digits pointing at you. “-change. So, who is he?”

Here it comes.

“There is no ‘he’ if that’s what you are asking. I’m just feeling lighter for no particular reason.”

“Hey, no need to get defensive! Nothing wrong with having a crush now.” You can hear the teasing tone in Etsuko’s words.

“Uh… Wait! Have we had a hobbit day recently? We haven’t had a hobbit day recently! I think we should have one soon and do nothing but eat!” Your desperate attempts at changing the topic of discussion is acknowledge. You’re not sure you’ll be getting away for a second time.

“Last time was fun, except for the moment our literature teacher saw Ayame and I feed each other chocolate though.”

“That’s because you two aren’t as fast and experienced as us!” You pull Koto to your side a bit too harsh as you say these. She just puts her arm around you in support and Okemia rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, keep lying to yourself.”

Successfully avoiding the possible news of your crush, you all set a date for your next grand ‘feast’ and some of your friends start to talk and giggle about their crushes. You just go back to looking at the sky and zoning out.

Trying not to dwell on your friends’ implications, you find yourself walking back to your classroom.

The looks and knowing smirks they sent your way when you announced you’d be leaving your little lunch spot a bit earlier making your blood rush, causing you to walk a little faster.

Pushing unwanted thoughts about why you might feel a bit different about someone proves to be an issue, especially when that someone is the one you hope to talk with a little before class starts.

Passing people by fast, ignoring their looks and heading straight to restroom, you stand over the sink.

Taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds.

You breathe out as you look at your reflection in the mirror.

Taking another deep breath and you start to examine your face.

 A pink blush spread on your cheeks and your nose, which you hope is caused by your quick pace and not a certain someone. Other than that, your eyes look fine, your mouth in a straight line and your face not giving away a single thought on your mind.

Splashing some cold water and standing for another 10 seconds, you slowly exit and make way to the classroom.

You’re almost disappointed to see Iwaizumi preoccupied with someone else. Key word; almost.

He’s sitting by his seat and a tall figure is looming over it.

From the way the figure moves his hands almost theatrically, it’s clear they’re the ones doing the talking. You can see their shiny brown hair and the gestures pull your attention to their skilled-looking fingers. They must know the enchanting presence they have right now, half the people in the classroom doing nothing but watching them. And they keep on talking about whatever it is they’re talking about purposely, not moving their head an inch from where Iwaizumi is sitting. And from where you are standing, they don’t block your view of Iwaizumi.

You can see him watching and nodding at them. Moving his mouth to make small comments, you assume to be words of agreement and encouragement, once in a while. He looks like in any other class; posture not slouching, hands rested on his desk, gaze focused on the speaker.

Yet the impression on his face. That, you cannot pinpoint.

Maybe you were wrong about Iwaizumi Hajime being an open book. Maybe you don’t know him enough to recognize this specific emotion on his face. It is clear there is something in the way he looks, the way his jaw clenches and the way he breathes. But you can’t make it out.

Startled by a sudden bump by the shoulder, you turn your head, mouth open ready to blurt a harsh word out, only to realize you’ve been blocking the entrance this whole time. Bowing your head slightly in what you hope is an apologetically way, your attention is back to them.

Eyes sliding back to the hall once in a while, you walk back to your desk and to Iwaizumi. Silently hoping he notices you or maybe not. Do you want him to notice you? Do you want to engage with someone who seems to be close to him as well? Do you-

Is that his voice? Head spinning around so fast to confirm with your eyes and yes it is the idiot you’ve been looking for all day, you rush to your desk, all your worries about Iwaizumi and his friend long forgotten.

Muttering few complaints and insults under your breath, along with a “wait up dumb ass” to no one in particular, you furiously search through your bag and make a run for the door as soon as you find what you’re looking for.

You don’t realize the puzzled look on Iwaizumi’s face or how his hand almost reached out to you.

You certainly don’t feel the cold gaze the brunette directs your way either.

You’ve been in an awfully good mood all week so far, Iwaizumi’s sure of it.

It’s almost impossible to miss when the typical demeanor of someone like you is cold and lacking in the smiles department. It’s a relief to see you like this, a little uplifting too. He wants to ask if it’s because of the mysterious text bearing news of hope you had received at the café. He knows better than to pry and settles with waiting until you decide to tell him yourself.

He can’t help but wish he is part of the reason why you’re happy.

Life goes the same for him; practices with the volleyball club, coming up with new strategies to beat Shiratorizawa, dealing with his highness’ shittiness whenever he is too handful. Additionally, you become a part of his life; slowly but surely giving more bits about your true self, talking with much more enthusiasm, making or saying something that is so you that he can’t help but agape once in a while too.

It is a nice change, welcomed, a little challenging because how you hold back and take things in time. He may not be the type to go and befriend anyone he sees but it doesn’t take a genius to know people don’t go all the trouble of slow processing and the effort when making friends nowadays. Lucky for him, Iwaizumi is not the type to back down from a challenge.

  Except for the times you disappear off to god knows where and all he has left to do is to wait. The back and forth between the two of you in thrilling somehow, adding a pinch of adrenaline to all this and leave him wondering what more to discover about you, what more to unlock with you, which layers to reach. To Iwaizumi you’re a little like a matrushka sometimes, reminding him of an oh-too-familiar friend he has spent a life time knowing.

But knowing him and discovering, bonding and growing together with him is what pulls Iwaizumi to the potential your friendship holds and offers.

So here he is one lunch break, sitting by his desk, most gazes locked onto where he is because Oikawa decide to pay him a visit in his classroom instead of calling him outside like he usually does.

He is not even there for something urgent, not even a hair crisis or a sudden volleyball strategy he came up with. No, Oikawa Tooru had to come and just ramble about nothing for no reason Iwaizumi can see. Yet he finds himself listening to his friend’s blabbing, nods when agreeing, making a small comment here and there, watching his comical gestures.

This goes on longer than he can comprehend, not long enough for lunch break to come to an end but long enough for Iwaizumi to zone in and out few times.

By the time his focus his back, he can see you aggressively going through your bag and cursing it. Unaware of Oikawa’s sudden silence, right when he’s about to touch your shoulder, you’re gone with a snap of fingers.

From where he is sitting, the view of the halls is limited. It takes a while for you to be seen again, walking besides someone and giving them whatever it was you were looking for a second ago. The figure’s back turned to him, Iwaizumi cam make out their built and height a bit, hint them to be in a sports team. He doesn’t realize the silent stance Oikawa has whenever he is observing, planning, breaking something into pieces in his mind; not until Iwaizumi realizes the mixture of words and giggles taking over the classroom as they’re done fawning after Oikawa. Before he can say anything else to his friend, besides a hurried “See ya!” Oikawa is gone, followed by the bell.

[grell-writes-stuff]

A Self Indulgent First Chapter

Enjoy...something

Words: 2,549

Genre: Young Adult / Paranormal

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

Slam!

Gasp!

And then the apathetic yell of “Walk it off, Willow!” from Coach Martin. No stopping the game or running over to make sure I’m not deprived of air or dying or something. Just “Walk it off, Willow!”

I suffer for a second with the wind knocked out of my body. My inhaler finds its way from my pocket to my hand, and while I hold the one breath I force myself into and wait for my crap lungs to jump-start again, I contemplate the most-likely-illegal play that landed me flat on my back in the middle of the field. Quarterback Tom Styles’ outstretched elbow connecting with my neck at full speed in his chase for the checkered ball and high school sports glory, clearly confusing his claim-to-fame varsity moves with a pickup game of soccer since I doubt he has the brain cells to remember the rules to two sports at once. And probably a little bit on purpose. Because he’s a dick.

My chest wheezes a little, but at least it’s something, and the weak inhales finally start to catch as a sun-freckled face appears above me and blocks out the light. Ivy offers me her hand.

“Did th-that look a-as bad as it f-felt?” I sputter.

Ivy tilts her head from side-to-side like it’s the scale measuring how uncool I am. “Worse. Very pathetic. You will die alone.” She yanks me to my feet and acts like a support in spite of the height difference.

“P-Please stop making m-me take gym with y-you.”

“Nah. It’s too funny.” She ignores my scowl. “Come on. Let’s get you some water and wait for those shitty lungs to work again.”

She escorts me – hobbling like some eighty-year-old man with spine problems and not just what will soon be a terrible, ugly bruise – toward the bleachers, empty except for the water bottles of our classmates. I’m happy enough to sit on the sidelines, not just while recovering from having all of the air robbed from my chest, but for the rest of gym class, and also forever. Ivy is equally as happy, but only because it prompts the girls’ teacher, Coach Caruthers, to scream in her booming voice:

“Hammond! Back on the field!”

Without missing a beat, Ivy responds, “In the event of moderate injury, students are allowed to have a friend or fellow student for mental, emotional, or physical support. It’s in the code of conduct.”

I don’t know if that’s actually something in our school’s rule book, but Ivy has read the whole thing cover-to-cover for the sole purpose of seeing how many provisions she can disregard without getting into trouble through malicious acts of over-compliance or sheer dumb luck. So, she’s either following the rules to the letter or lying about them. As I sit, I see that Caruthers does not look impressed when Ivy plops onto the bench next to me. The whole reason our gender-segregated phys. ed classes collaborate so often is because they’re full of athletes – and me, the outlier – so more often than not, it’s just an extra practice for the varsity players. Even though Ivy was born with the “good at physical stuff” gene, and talented enough to be a forward on our girls’ soccer team, she prefers to rely on the natural part of her ability and not the practice part to the vexation of literally everyone.

“Hammond!” Caruthers screams. “On the field, or off the team!”

Ivy squirts a stream of water into her mouth and quickly swallows before passing the bottle on to me. “Cool. Who’s replacing me?” she retorts.

I focus on downing some water and breathing evenly again and not on the vein beginning to pop out of Caruthers’ angry-red neck. She can’t say anything back because, well, Kinross High School isn’t huge. Pretty much everyone who can play sports is already playing sports, and as far as Ivy’s tendency to disrespect anyone of authority can go, she’s also crucial to securing victory over visiting teams. Caruthers just grits her teeth and returns to refereeing the game where Tom Styles has once again stolen the ball that got away from him, this time without incapacitating anybody since the one guy with asthma has left the field. (Asshole.) I watch as Abby Jefferson starts to gain on him, and Tom makes the choice to skillfully send the ball flying across the grass to the next open player, Drew Young, the only person in our gym class who does even less than I do.

That’s not for lack of talent either. I’ve seen Drew actually try on the rare occasion, and he could absolutely score a spot on a boys’ sports team. But most games, like today, he receives the pass and kicks the ball along to the next open player – it’s intercepted by one of the girls – and continues pacing the field leisurely. Coach Martin yells at him to get his head in the game, but Drew doesn’t bother. If the activity doesn’t involve selling the pens that he stole from the cheerleaders to the football team, the little weasel has no interest.

The game continues on.

Ivy reclines until her shoulders are touching the bench behind us, tilting her head back and staring at the sky. I have to wonder how comfortable it is.

“My dear Sid,” she theatrically addresses me. She likes to be dramatic sometimes. She thinks it’s funny. “I have a proposal for you.”

“I told you I’m not training a messenger pigeon with you. We only live three houses apart.”

“I’ll wear you down eventually, but no, that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” She looks over at me without breaking her questionable position. “I know what we’re doing tonight. I’ve concocted a perfect plan, you see, for this most All-Hallowed of Eves.”

“You can say ‘Halloween’ like a normal person. It’s okay.”

“Let me bring you back in time,” she continues, ignoring me, “to the Kinross of yore. Just decades after its founding, the Salem Witch Trials came about and our town was no exception to the noose–”

“Salem is two hours away, Ivy,” I interrupt with the fact.

“Shut up. The Salem Witch Trials swept across the state of Massachusetts, migrated into Kinross, and thus the most famous trial of Kinross history was set in motion when one Ann Kelly was accused of being a creature of the occult!”

“Can I get the abridged version of this plan please?” I ask her. “Like, the part that takes place in this century?”

Finally fed up with my interjections, Ivy sighs exaggeratedly and rolls her eyes at me. “Blah, blah, blah, she was hanged, she’s buried in the historical section of Riverview, and we’re going there tonight during the witching hour to see” – she switches to her best spooky voice with elongated, trembling vowels – “her haunted grave.”

“Hard pass.”

That makes her sit upright again with a slouch to her posture. She’s wearing a fabricated pout. “Sid,” she whines.

“Ivy, I’m not sneaking out with you at three in the morning on Halloween to go see a ‘haunted grave.’” She opens her mouth, but I follow up with, “Our parents would kill us. Besides, what’s-her-name probably just angered a bunch of Puritans and got executed because of religious prejudice. That doesn’t mean she was a witch.”

“Well, of course. I think angering Puritans was a mandatory activity back then. But come on, Sid! The legend says she’s a witch, and it’s the perfect Halloween thing! I think we are obligated – if not encouraged by the spirit of Halloween herself – to go see a ghost witch.”

“Does the spirit of Halloween have a gender?”

Ivy pushes past that and waits to catch my eye dead-on. “Bet you a hundred bucks we actually see Ann Kelly’s phantom.”

My lips part to say no just a split second before I register the number. “Wait – a hundred?”

Something cocky has taken up her face, and she recites with inflated confidence, “Ten A-Hams. A Franklin. A thousand Roosevelts.”

“You know what? Fine. I’ll take your money,” I tell her. “You’re on.”

Her grin is smug as we fist-bump on it and close the deal, but I decide that I don’t care so much with the promise of an easy hundred dollars coming my way. Ivy ingests another stream of water, and swallows while her eyes quickly scan the grass to catch up with the game again. Suddenly, a yell flies from her mouth:

“Box him out, Julia! Come on!”

Then she’s up off the bleachers and jogging back out onto the field. As unwilling as Ivy is to make an effort and practice, she’s also equally as competitive, even if this is just a gym class where victory doesn’t really matter. I, on the other hand, take my time on the bench. Struggling to breathe isn’t my idea of fun. I need to stop letting Ivy manipulate me into taking phys. ed. If she keeps it up, she might kill me.

 ***

I can nearly be qualified as a mess by the time Ivy and I reach our lockers after final period, and she’s humming like she’s got live wires for veins despite just spending an hour burning off energy. Meanwhile, I’m still recovering from my last bout of airlessness after I returned to the field and ran for maybe ten minutes. And I feel gross. The benefit of having P.E. last period is that I don’t have to shower here and can wait until I get home or to Ivy’s. The con is the window of time in between. I usually try to keep the gap as short as possible, and therefore, my time at my locker brief. I think Ivy and I took enough time getting changed after gym to avoid most people – at least the non-athletes.

“Hi, Sidney! Hi, Ivy!”

A mixture of feelings suddenly rockets through me and don’t add up in the end. While my chest is beginning to slowly overclock, and the hallway seems a few degrees warmer and rising steadily, I’m ready to play dead as Naomi Park opens the locker right next to mine on the opposite side of Ivy’s. Her shoulder is a fraction of an inch from touching my arm which is probably too close when I’m still drenched in gym sweat. Ivy greets her politely with ease while my brain is trying to catch up with the mundane situation and not think about how she smells like some kind of flowery perfume and I smell like crap.

“Hey, Naomi,” leaves my mouth and sounds too drawn-out and weirdly cheesy, so I just try to smile to make up for it. That feels awkward too, but she thankfully doesn’t seem to react to that, and her glossy pink lips tilt up without much effort into a perfect grin.

She puts some books on the shelf in her locker. “Any exciting Halloween plans?”

“Nope,” Ivy says immediately, likely because our actual idea involves a wager and might not be entirely legal – it’s a misdemeanor at the least. I just take the hint and don’t add anything to refute her answer.

“You? Any plans? For tonight – Halloween?” I wish that had come out differently. It could have at least sounded coherent.

“Nothing tonight,” Naomi responds. “But Heather’s having a ‘Belated Halloween Bash’ on Saturday while her parents are out of town so I’m ‘required’ to be there.”

“Oh, cool. That’s…cool.”

“I guess so. Heather’s parties get a little boring after a while though. I bet your plans for Saturday are much more fun.”

“Yep. Pints of ice cream, horror movies, and making bets on how long it takes Sid to hurl when the blood starts gushing,” Ivy interjects.

“Ivy.” I mutter the snap of her name so it doesn’t sound as harsh as I want it to. The temperature in the hallway rises astronomically.

Naomi giggles, which hurts. Well, it would if her laugh wasn’t so musical and twinkly. It’s like a damn harp quartet. “Sounds like a good time,” she comments. Her locker door shuts. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Yeah, totally – tomorrow. See ya’, Naomi!” She’s nearly out of earshot down the hall, and I wait until I know she definitely can’t hear anything before I say to Ivy without daring a look at her, with the heat of embarrassment and shame boiling me alive from the inside, “Please say nothing.”

I can hear the grin on her face when she speaks. “You realize she’s just another human being, right?”

“Are you kidding? She’s at the right hand of Heather Loch. She’s popular. I’m shocked she still knows my name.”

Ivy shuts her own locker with a characteristic slam. “Dude, you’re ridiculous. She likes you back. If you just talked to her, and told her that you like her, you would have a girlfriend.”

“Ivy, she thinks I’m a loser.”

“I think you’re a loser and I still like you sometimes.”

I roll my eyes and can’t say anything to that. I don’t care if Ivy thinks I’m lame. It’s not the same. We’ve been together for as long as I can remember, so at this point, she’s locked into this friendship, no matter how easy it would be for her to hang out with the people at Kinross High who are actually popular and liked.

I close my locker and we start walking to the main exit of the building and eventually across the school’s student parking lot. Some groups linger, but most people seem to be dispersing and heading home for the day. Ivy and I walk straight through the lot as always, avoiding the cars pulling out.

I want to avoid the Styles’ Ford Everest – which is so bright red that it’s an assault on the eyes – but we have to walk past it and the clump of popular kids loitering next to it: blonde, perfect, popular Heather Loch, Asshole Quarterback Tom and his not-as-terrible twin, Ed, and my locker neighbour and secret crush, Naomi. The girls are under the guys’ arms like they belong there, popular with popular. There’s usually not much interaction between our pair and their group because I’m pretty sure most of the popular kids either don’t know who I am or just hate me for no reason, but today Tom decides to rub in his full-contact plays on the soccer field.

“Nice moves out there, Pussy Willow!” he shouts clear across the lot. It makes me feel the bruise on my back, still fresh, but I’m past the point of being mad about it. Really, Tom’s just an annoying jerk, and that’s all he’ll ever be.

I try to tap into Ivy-like sarcasm and passiveness. “I get it. Because my last name is Willow, and you’re insulting me. That’s really funny. It’s original.”

He yells something back that includes one of Ivy’s favourite swear words, but we disregard it and turn out of the parking lot in the direction of our houses. Ivy states that we’re going to my place because, in her mind, it’s easier to sneak out of a single-parent household. I don’t try to refute it because arguing with Ivy when she has her mind made up is like talking to a brick wall.

[sykilik101]

Colloyd Week Day 2: Outfit Swap

Colette didn’t know the details, but from what she could gather, Lloyd had lost a bet.

Off on the other side of the campsite, just out of earshot, the swordsman was currently ranting at Zelos and Genis, neither of whom had lost their impish grins for the past few minutes. His expressions ranged from flabbergasted to irate to flustered, throwing his hands every which way as if hoping they would get across whatever point he was trying to make. Clearly it wasn’t working as the other two crossed their arms simultaneously, with Zelos poking a finger out towards the campsite.

Lloyd’s face fell as he scanned the rest of the group, though for what she wasn’t sure. His eyes slid over to Zelos, mouthing something with annoyance before his legs began carrying him forward. A flush adorned his face, his lip tucked between his teeth. It was a look she rarely saw on her friend, and she wondered if maybe there was something she could do to help, but before she could stand up she watched him make his way towards Sheena.

The girl looked up from the book she was reading, wearing a smile that was in stark contrast to the anxious one Lloyd donned. His hand found its way to the back of his head, his lips creating words that looked like they tasted funny in his mouth. In a flash Sheena’s gaze turned from jubilant to confused and eventually to exasperated, shaking her head and mumbling something with a wave of her hand. Lloyd nodded as if he’d expected her reaction, waving apologetically.

The next minute consisted of Lloyd repeating similar interactions with the Professor and Presea, although the Professor looked a bit more annoyed than the other two. He had turned back to Zelos and Genis, both of whom were reduced to snickers with each girl he talked to. Colette watched as Zelos held up a single finger and said something. Lloyd’s shoulders sagged, and slowly his pleading gaze turned to her.

Endless possibilities about what Lloyd could be going through consumed her imagination, and as he slowly approached her she couldn’t decide which one she wanted to believe. She opted to paste an inviting smile on her face, hoping that whatever was troubling him, she’d have a way to help.

“Uh, h-hi, Colette.”

The stutter was uncharacteristic to her normally cheery companion, and she was starting to worry that maybe his situation was more dire than she’d expected. “Hey, Lloyd. Is...something the matter?”

“Well, no, not really. I just...have a weird favor to ask.”

A gleam of optimism sprouted within her, taking solace in the notion that she’d be able to aid him after all. “What is it? If there’s anything I can do to help, just ask.”

He looked unsure of what to do with his hands, opting to let one rest on his hip as the other scratched his cheek. One of his feet tapped against the ground, wisps of dust blending with the rest of the dirt on his boots. If restless was made incarnate, Lloyd was it, and it didn’t seem to ease up as he dragged his gaze back to hers.

“I sort of lost a bet with Zelos and Genis, and now I have to wear girl’s clothes.”

She’d expected all sorts of responses, but of all of them, this was far from what she could have predicted. Still, the idea of Lloyd in a dress tickled her fancy, and she covered up her incoming laughter with an endearing curiosity. “I didn’t know you owned girl clothes, Lloyd.”

His eyes narrowed by the tiniest margin, clearly sensing her hidden merriment. It was enough to undo her inner restraints, allowing a giggle to escape her. His face relaxed at this, resting both his hands on his hips. “As a matter of fact, I don’t, which is why I need to borrow some.” Some of his fluster sparked back into his cheeks, his eyes shifting to the side.

Colette tilted her head to the side. Borrow some? From who-

The nature of his predicament suddenly clicked in her head, a pouty blush creeping up on her. “Oh. So...you mean we’d have to trade outfits?”

Saying it aloud seemed to make his apprehension more potent, his mouth twisting in humiliation. “Yeah...something like that.” He turned back to her, waving his palms at her. “But if you don’t want to, it’s okay. It’s kind of a dumb thing to make me do.”

Even in his awkwardness she found an earnestness in his eyes that had drawn her to them for all the years they’d known each other. Deferring to Lloyd was a common occurrence for her, and her desire to see him relieved of his discomfort sent the words to her vocal cords before she had a chance to stop them. “Well, if you really want to, I’m okay with it.”

She couldn’t tell if he looked more surprised or confused at her reply. “Really?”

“Mhm. Besides, it’s not good to go back on a promise.”

“I don’t know if I’d call this a promise…” he mumbled, turning to glare at the duo with the playfully optimistic eyes. Holding up a weak thumbs up caused the pair to exclaim excitedly, whooping and cheering on their own.

Colette giggled once more, still perplexed at this ritual between the boys but amused all the same. “So where should we get changed?”

His already rosy cheeks flourished further as he glanced around the campsite, searching around for wherever the two could exchange clothes. He exhaled sharply as he raised his finger towards a pair of boulders off in the distance. “We should be able to get some privacy behind those.” His face twisted and a wave of apprehension washed over him. “I promise I won’t peek or try to look!”

The concept of Lloyd trying to peek at her as she changed was so unbelievable that she almost collapsed into another fit of giggles, but she imagined her assurance would work better for him than her laughter.

“It’s okay, I trust you, Lloyd.”

xxxxx

It hadn’t taken much effort to slip herself into Lloyd’s outfit, given that he had a few sizes over her. With her arms at her sides the cuffs of his jacket slipped over her hands. Despite his suspenders his pants waist band refused to cling to her hips, forcing her to grasp it to keep them from drooping too far down. It was a miracle she was able to walk from behind the boulder without tripping over, given how large his boots were over her feet. In spite of how silly she felt, deep down she savored the warmth of his clothes around her, as if Lloyd was embracing her, protecting her like he always had.

She was surprised to find the entire group standing before her, sans Regal who was in charge of dinner that night. Genis and Zelos grinned approvingly at her before turning back to Lloyd’s boulder, clearly far more interested in his wardrobe exchange. Presea seemed generally unphased by her appearance, but Sheena held her chin in her hand, head gently cocked to the side.

“It’s kind of big on you, but you actually pull those clothes off pretty well, Colette.”

She meant to move her hand atop her head out of flattery, but the excess sleeve fell over her head and flopped against her ear, adding more fuel to the giggle that had already been bubbling inside. “Hehe, thanks!”

The Professor, however, appeared less than thrilled at their antics. “It’s fine that Lloyd’s clothes cover you well enough, but I’m concerned about how he’s supposed to fit in yours.”

“You know, when you put it that way, I almost don’t wanna see him in Colette’s clothes,” Genis shrugged with a shake of his head.

“Yeah, I’m kinda with you on that one,” Sheena chimed in, resting her hand on her hip.

“Oh, I’m sure it won’t be that egregious,” Zelos chuckled, though his comment did little to assuage the concerned looks of his companions. Rather than acknowledge their lack of faith in him he instead cupped his hand over his mouth. “Hey, Lloyd! You having some trouble over there, bud?”

“I’m fine...I’m just...trying to get this to fit…”

Not knowing which article of clothing he was referring to tickled at Colette’s fancy, though Zelos and Genis were clearly more amused. Between their snickering, Presea looked to the girl. “If Lloyd accidentally damages your clothes, I’m sure I could repair them without any trouble.”

The kind gesture warmed Colette’s heart and pulled the corners of her lips upwards. “Oh, that’s okay, I’m sure Lloyd is being really careful with them.”

“He’d better be, otherwise we’ll have a wardrobe malfunction on our hands, and I don’t think any of us want that.” Genis placed his hands behind his head, rocking side to side.

“Perhaps you or Zelos should go make sure everything fits properly before he comes out,” Raine responded, gently giving the boy a shove on the back with an amused grin.

“Not it!”

Their voices harmonized perfectly, prompting laughter from the rest of the group as they glared each other down. Before either could offer the first argument Lloyd’s voice rang from behind the boulder.

“Guys, I don’t think this is gonna work out.”

Zelos pulled himself away from his staredown with Genis, reviving his previous merriment. “Oh, come on, Lloyd, it can’t be that bad.”

As if to answer him, Lloyd inched himself out from behind the boulder. Colette’s top wasn’t especially snug on her, so Lloyd had some leeway as far as fitting into it, but it still clung tightly to his arms and chest. However, he clearly hadn’t managed to fit his legs into her tights or shoes, standing there pantsless and tugging at the bottom of her top to allow himself some decency.

Colette felt her face go hot, taking an unexpected extra second to take in the sight before looking away. Zelos and Genis howled with laughter, clutching their sides as they fell to the dirt. Sheena made a noise as her face went aflame, covering it and turning to the side. Presea also averted her gaze, though with far less theatrics than the Mizuho native. It was the Professor, however, who was the most incensed at his appearance.

“Lloyd Irving, cover yourself up this instant!”

“I’m doing the best I can, Professor!” He pulled harder at the hem of the top, looking to the cackling duo with shame and fluster in his glare. “Zelos, how long do I have to keep this on?”

I took a few moments for the redheaded Chosen to regain his composure, wiping a tear from his eye. “Well, I would hate for Raine to get mad at me for this, so you can get your clothes back after dinner. Is that alright with you, Colette?” he asked, turning to the girl.

She nodded, still at war with the heat and second-hand embarrassment coursing through her. “Okay.” It was all she could manage to say, still coping with the reality that she and Lloyd had (mostly) traded outfits.

Lloyd looked to her, his grip on her top tightening. “I-I’ll do my best not to mess this up, okay?”

In spite of everything entertaining about the situation, all Colette could do was grin softly. “Okay.”

Seemingly satisfied with this response, Lloyd grit his teeth, meandering towards the campsite. Sighs and residual chuckles resounded as the party watched him trek forward, though all shared a laugh at the sound of Lloyd’s voice erupting. “It’s because I lost a bet, Regal!”

Zelos was the first to begin heading back. “Let’s go get dinner over with so we can put Lloyd out of his misery.”

Everyone nodded in agreement, though some were more at unease than others. As footsteps trekked away from the boulders Colette held her place, rubbing the cloth of the jacket between her fingers. She could still smell his scent in the fabric, still imagining the way the sleeves moved and stretched as he fought. With the others gone she allowed a wavering sigh to escape her. Her eyes closed and snapshots of the ways Lloyd walked, worked, played, and lived raced through her mind. Oxygen tasted sweeter as she pulled his outfit closer, savoring her private indulgence.

“Colette, come on, we’re all waiting for you!”

Genis’s voice ripped her from her reverie, the mental hue of brown eyes vanishing in an instant. Her throat tightened for a moment as she prayed that the ruby tint of her cheeks wasn’t noticeable from afar. The boy stood there curiously, oblivious to her swordsman musings. “Coming!”

The images wouldn’t leave her as the fireplace grew closer, but the sight of her friends focused on making cracks at Lloyd’s predicament gave her blush the perfect camouflage. Between the banter and how much food Lloyd could eat, it was likely she would have more time with his clothing than she expected. A small smile worked its way onto her lips; perhaps she could intervene, stall a little. She didn’t intend to embarrass Lloyd any further, but maybe she could delay dinner from ending right away. Maybe she could keep him close to her, just a little longer.

xxxxx

I actually had a lotta fun with this one. I’m not the most satisfied with some parts, but as a whole, I really like this story.

[marredbyoverlength]

Year-End Awards 2019

2019 was very good for movies.  Or, rather, November and December of 2019 were very good for movies.  I could speculate about why that is (Awards season? Disney? Moloch?), but I don’t really know.  What I do know is that the Oscars are tomorrow, so I better get this post up today.

Honorable mentions in no particular order.  Strap in, chumps.

Best Lead Performance: Adam Sandler, Uncut Gems

Sometimes it feels like Adam Sandler is cheating, lowering our expectations with awful performances in even-more-awful films so that his dramatic turns look better by comparison.  But whether or not we grade him on a curve, this performance is the best of the year.  

Sandler’s character, Howard Ratner, is ridiculous.  In fact, much of the movie is ridiculous.  But Sandler makes this absurd person human, and in doing so, makes the whole movie work.  He commits hard to the role, and even though every scene is a little more unbelievable than the last, I never for a moment stopped believing in Howard.  Superb work.

Honorable Mentions: Willem Dafoe, The Lighthouse; Saoirse Ronan, Little Women; Scarlett Johansson, Marriage Story; Adam Driver, Marriage Story; Ana de Armas, Knives Out; Kang-ho Song, Parasite; Jonathan Pryce, The Two Popes.

Best Supporting Performance: The rest of the cast of Uncut Gems

The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that Uncut Gems is a movie that survives entirely on its acting.  The Safdie brothers themselves have said that the movie wouldn’t work without Kevin Garnett nailing the scene where he first holds the black opal.  I’d extend that credit to all the other supporting roles: Idina Menzel as Howard’s wife who no longer even bats an eye at the insanity he brings on himself, Marshall Greenberg (a non-actor) as the fellow jeweler who expresses genuine concern for Howard but still gives him unfavorable terms on a pawn deal, deranged Garment District legend Wayne Diamond as a character just named “High Roller”—every one of these people is essential to the success of the film.  When it comes down to it, Uncut Gems doesn’t make any sense.  It takes a suite of perfect performances to make it feel as real as it does.

Honorable Mentions: Timothée Chalamet, Little Women; Laura Dern, Little Women; Florence Pugh, Little Women; Takayuki Hamatsu, One Cut of the Dead; Daniel Craig, Knives Out; Al Pacino, The Irishman.

The Costner Award for Worst Actor: Rebel Wilson, Cats

When we meet Rebel Wilson (as her fursona “Jennyanydots,” a name I will never utter again), she is showing her butthole to the camera.  The character never gets more likable than that, because they let Rebel Wilson ad-lib numerous “comedic” lines to punch up the script. They’re awful.

Honorable Mention: James Corden, Cats.

 Nicest Surprise: Cold Pursuit

I watch the Liam Neeson stupid action flick with my brother Rob every year. Sometimes we get something legitimately great, like A Walk Among the Tombstones.  Other times we get a movie like The Commuter, which is dumb as rocks.  But this is the first time we got a comedy.  I went in expecting a second-rate Neeson-kills-people thriller, and instead got a solid black comedy.  Apparently it’s nearly a shot-for-shot remake of the Norwegian film In Order of Disappearance, so maybe I should have known better.  But I didn’t, so I was pleasantly surprised.

Hiddenest Gem: One Cut of the Dead

One Cut of the Dead is the best movie of the year that my friends haven’t seen, and it’s a tough movie to talk about because of how fun it is to watch knowing nothing about it.  So I’ll keep it short.  One Cut is a Japanese schlock horror movie with a fun twist that manages to be creepy at first, then funny, then heartwarming.  Two things elevate this above the usual fun-twist movie.  The first is that the surprise unfolds in little pieces over the entire second half of the movie, rather than hitting all at once. The second is that there’s real substance there: under the goofy exterior there’s a charming family story that’s worth coming back for.

 Most Insulting Moment: We Hate Sensory Deprivation, Angel Has Fallen

I haven’t seen the other films in the Blank Has Fallen franchise, nor did I need to do so to understand its third installment.  It’s exactly the kind of institution-worshipping great-men-of-history support-our-troops action bullshit you’d expect.  But after the credits, there’s a totally inexplicable scene where Gerard Butler and his dad Nick Nolte agree to get treatment for their (implied) PTSD.  Instead of leaving it as just a nice moment of healing, it cuts to a comedy scene where they go to a two-person sensory-deprivation tank and float around in the dark complaining about it.  The general gist of the scene is “sensory deprivation is dumb and gay.”  I’m not a sense-dep guy, but it’s used here as a stand-in for all the forms of “modernity” that reactionary filmmakers hate: you know, like mental health treatment, or trying new things, or expressing any sincere vulnerability even for a moment.  Why not just show them affectionately kissing guns and save some production cost?

Honorable Mentions:  The trailer for A Dog’s Way Home; The narration in Ad Astra.

 Winter’s Tale Memorial “What the Hell Am I Watching” Award: Cats

At long last, a film that unites the unholy trinity of ambition, incompetence, and derangement to form a true “What the Hell Am I Watching” award-winner.  The premise of Cats, in short, is that the cats of London meet every year to perform a ritual sacrifice of one of their number, believing that the chosen cat will, after their death, be reincarnated…as another London cat.  And they determine the sacrifice by holding a talent show.  And one of the cats is a warlock.  So we’re off to a good start.

I was fortunate enough to see the original version.  You see, the film is almost entirely CGI, so much so that viewing it feels like living inside a haunted kaleidoscope.  Even the actors, through “digital fur technology,” are turned into cats which are anthropomorphized to greater or lesser degrees. The warlock cat, for example, has cat abs.  But shortly after theatrical release, director Tom Hooper realized that the film contained major visual effects oversights, including failing to CGI several of the actors’ hands, meaning that Judi Dench and Ian McKellen appeared to have human arms on cat bodies.  These are only some of the crimes of the film Cats.  A full reading of the litany would take all day.

Honorable Mentions: A Dog’s Journey; Gemini Man.

Prettiest Movie: 1917

I’d be remiss not to talk about the cinematic achievement of 1917.  The all-in-one-take thing, or the appearance thereof, is kind of a used gimmick at this point.  (Birdman, after all, used it and won Best Picture.)  I went into 1917 expecting a cheap knockoff. Instead I was blown away.  Every detail was perfect, down to the mud stains on the extras’ overcoats, the stacking of sandbags in the real dug-out trenches, the bloating of the bodies clogging the waterways.  One especially memorable scene follows our hero (George MacKay) sprinting through a ruined city by night, intermittently lit by mortar fire, dodging gunfire all the way.  Maybe “pretty” isn’t the right word, but no film this year used the visual medium as well as 1917.

Honorable Mentions: Parasite, Once Upon A Time…in Hollywood.

Best Picture: Under the Silver Lake

Yes, I know it’s weird to give Best Picture to a movie that didn’t even get an honorable mention anywhere else.  But this is my blog, dammit, I stand by it.  Under the Silver Lake is a movie about capitalist-media-technology-complex-inspired brain poisoning.  It stayed on my mind for weeks after seeing it, and I eventually gave it a second watch. It held up.  

Criticisms of the film abound, like how male-gazey a lot of the portrayals of women are, but I think the parts that some reviewers identify as flaws are intentional and important features of the movie.  We see the film through the eyes of our main character (Andrew Garfield), who is a scumbag, but the film is very clearly not endorsing being a scumbag. It’s about the interplay of personal neuroses and moral failings with the broader perverse clown-reality we all occupy, and the inescapable tinge our perspectives bring to the world we see. The film is, after all, a sort of noir film, and our hero’s attitudes are reflective in some ways of the noir mindset: find the clues, unravel the plot, get the girl.  The incongruity between the stories and attitudes of our past and the demented reality of our future define the film.

I could go on about this for much longer, which is why I’m choosing Silver Lake as the best film of the year.  It’s not notable for its acting or cinematography (though both are solid), but in terms of content, nothing else this year encapsulated my internal and external world quite so well as this.

Honorable mentions: Parasite; 1917; Little Women; The Irishman; One Cut of the Dead; Marriage Story; Uncut Gems.

 That’s it, that’s the post.  I think I’m moving to Letterboxd next year.

[movienotesbyzawmer]

The Empire Strikes Back

December 15: The Empire Strikes Back

(previous notes: Star Wars)

Source: Limited Edition DVD, original 1980 edit (Same deal as for Star Wars. The only difference is that with this one, the back of the box actually does mention the fact that it includes the original theatrical cut, in small print.)

Worth noting that this is the Star Wars movie I've seen most recently. A couple of months ago I saw it at Orchestra Hall, with the score performed live by the Minnesota Orchestra. This score is fantastic and that was a great way to experience it. It was the "Special Edition", though. And in January, so 11 months ago, I saw Star Wars the same way.

So this is many Star Wars fans' favorite of the movies. Worth noting that this is probably the least tampered-with of the oft-adjusted original trilogy. I guess with this one it was like "whoa, if it ain't broke don't fix it". I was 9 when it came out and I went to see it numerous times in the theater back then. So the darker vibe was definitely not a problem for me as a child. But when people say that this is the best of the Star Wars movies, my haughty response is to point out that it had an advantage that the first one didn't have in that it had hardly any burden of exposition. But whatevzies, let's press play and take another look at how this unspooled in 1980.

The credits now begin with the Fox logo… then a "Lucasfilm Limited" card. Movin' up in the world, ain't ya George

The first scene is about the probe droids. God damn I love those probe droids. That sound.

But then we cut to Luke on a tauntaun. And then he gets attacked by basically The Abominable Snowman. Again I observe the importance of creature and vehicle design, on display early on in almost all the movies. Although maybe that Wampa isn't all that creative.

Yeah, that Wampa stuff I think got punched up significantly in the re-releases, and seeing the original one now, I guess there just really isn't much there.

Tauntaun freezes to death. Hey, tauntauns, you need to evolve your weak asses if you're going to be on a super cold ice planet. But I've still always liked that stop-motion animation of it dying. Did that stay in the re-releases?

And I VERY much retain the vivid memory of Han slicing open the tauntaun carcass. It was "gory". Watching it now, seems like they actually left a lot to the imagination.

0:19:40 - Cut to Destroyers, and the mama ship which dwarfs them in size. And in the background the Imperial March, first time that's been heard. (I often have to point out that that famous theme was written for Empire, not the first movie.) The back of Vader's head with space backdrop. It's just good cinema, yo.

The Destroyer getting sizzed while the transport gets past it, that's not a very good effect. I'm a bit disappointed.

But more good cinematic introductions… the walkers, first spotted through binoculars! Then a cool shot of a bunch of them approaching! Is good! Then a POV shot of a rebel ship flying through the legs of one of them, looks great! Harpoon trap is very satisfying too.

These spaceports always have ceiling-mounted suction hose things that seem to be exclusively designed to lower R2 units into spaceships. Not much utility is all I'm saying.

0:37:35 - The sound of jump-to-lightspeed fail has become instantly recognizable.

The music here is great, this new asteroid field theme, followed by, at 0:40:00, the super-beautiful, under-appreciated "Han Solo and the Princess" theme making its first appearance.

0:44:25 - This was exciting when I was a kid, the shot of Vader's helmet being lowered onto his head. Mysterious! Kinda gross!

But also gross to me as a kid was how Han & Leia interacted. I was baffled that they ended up together after how dumb he acted to her, like just now when he was aggressive about her sitting on his lap.

0:53:00 - First appearance of The Emperor since the prequels, but this is the original theatrical release so it's a different actor. Actually close enough, though.

Yoda as a Muppet character works remarkably well. Perfectly integrated into this environment. So much definition. Such personality.

Love this bit where the cave they're in is actually a giant serpent monster. They were walking around in its squishy fleshy innards hahaha

Pretty memorable scene now, this one where Luke goes into a dark-side-of-the-force cave and there's frame rate shenanigans and a Darth Vader. Luke has only seen Vader that one time when he sort-of killed Obi-Wan, right? But that's enough for him to be the subject of Nightmare Cave.

"You want the impossible." "I don't believe it." Luke has always been a very flawed person. Childish and impatient. I mean that in a good way as a movie critic; he's not a "model hero".

Kinda interesting where we're at with the two concurrent subplots. Luke is learning to be a Jedi from a charismatic little puppet, while Han, Leia, and the rest are just on the run trying to deal with their busted ship while being very closely pursued by huge Imperial Destroyers.

Boba Fett! Such a cool looking dude.

Cloud city. Pretty, and a welcome change. But, and maybe I'm being a snob here, I find myself longing a bit for blemish-free HD filling my screen.

The light play going on when Luke departs in his X-Wing and Yoda has his "no, there is another" exchange with Ghost-y-Wan, unique and vivid and I like it.

Shit be getting dark now. That scene where Chewy turns C3PO back on is creepy, then Han is getting straight tortured.

And now THIS, the carbon freeze scene! Spooked me but good as a kid. But the look of this chamber is great, and hey we get that awesome Han/Princess music back. "I love you" "I know". And now he's a block of ice. The slab thuds down and it's morbid.

We've returned to that chamber now with Luke facing Vader, and between their light sabers and the blue-red contrast of the lighting in there, it's nice to look at.

1:48:10 - Leia and Lando got away but Luke is still there, just kind of stuck fighting without any purpose. Except of course to lose his hand (dark!) and find out who his daddy is (Darth!).

Do you think when they cast Mark Hamill in the first movie, they realized how valuable his prodigious frown-mouth-face-shape would be in this second movie?

Getting Luke off that weather vane or whatever and into the Falcon, they don't really show how that got done. Feels like some flimmaking sloppiness.

A final swelling arrangement of Han/Princess and it's over without much resolution. This whole movie is like a second act. It begins with problems starting up, and it ends with things just about as bad as they can get. That's the textbook definition of the second act of a screenplay. I think ending it that way could have left people feeling unsatisfied, but instead we're all like "ooh, this one is dark, no happy ending, I dig it."

(next: Return of the Jedi)

[thefinalcinderella]

Tsurune Book 1 Chapter 4-Gift (Part 2)

In this chapter: The qualifiers start, Minato and Shuu have their fateful meeting, will Kazemai advance to the finals? (This is the fourth chapter of a six chapter book, which has a sequel, hint hint)

Glossary here

Full list of translations here

Translation Notes

1. Warawara means “swarming, shuffling” but also a way to say “wwww” (lol in Japanese internet slang, as you probably know) and I didn’t know which one to put so I put both

2. Uchiwa fans are round Japanese handheld fans, as seen here

3. Kasumi-mato are targets with concentric circle designs

4. An izume competition is a competition where when there is a tie between finalists, both keep shooting until someone misses the target and get eliminated

Previous | Next

It was the middle of May.

Beneath the almost-transparent blue sky, the preliminaries for the Prefectural High School Kyudo Tournament were being held.

The hakama-clad high school students in front of the venue were carrying long, rod-shaped objects covered in cloth, causing the passersby to wonder aloud if they were naginatas or the like. Since the standard length of a bow was two-hundred-and-twenty-one centimeters, naturally they were moving carefully to avoid hitting things like the top of the entrance and noticeboards.

The competition event was a kinteki (close-range) competition. The first day's individual competition was shooting four arrows in two sets while in zasha, and the ten archers with the most total hits were selected. For the second day's team competition, teams were composed of one coach and five to seven archers, and one boys' team and one girls' team were allowed to participate from each school. The competition method was a tachi of five people, four shots while in zasha, and an eight-minute time limit. The boys' team competition had thirty-eight schools participating, and the top ten teams with the highest total of hits in two rounds will advance to the prefectural tournament.

For Kazemai High School, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, Seo, Kaito and Nanao were doing the individual competitions, and Kaito, Ryouhei, Seiya, Nanao and Minato had entered the team competition. Their white kyudogi with their school's name embroidered on one sleeve emphasized that they were new members of a new club. There was also a suggestion that they should prepare headbands, but they postponed that idea for this time.

After they finished finding good spots to put down their baggage, cloths with numbers on them were attached to the right hips of those who were taking part in the individual competition.

Tomi-sensei cleared his throat theatrically.

"The fact that all eight members of the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club can gather here without anyone missing, makes me truly happy. Now, let's start the mission."

"Yes, thank you very much!"

"Masa-san and I will have to leave to take care of some business, but in the time leading up to the opening ceremony, everyone will move forward with preparations."

After seeing them off, those who were tense and those who were relaxed all made their final adjustments before the competition finally began.

Ryouhei looked around.

"Uwaah, all these people are doing kyudo? There's so many!"

"There's actually more high schoolers doing kyudo than kendo."

"Heh, I'm getting excited."

When speaking the tall Ryouhei, Minato instinctively raised his face up to talk. Maybe because of that, he felt like even his mood was heading upwards. In the practice competition they had before the tournament, he was able to get the high score of getting fifteen hits out of twenty shots, so if one did simple calculations, getting thirty hits out of forty shots in this competition wasn't a long shot.

Suddenly, there was a break in the noise. When he just happened to look in that direction, he saw a group clad in matching jerseys. People's gazes were fixed on the words carved on the back of their jerseys.

It was the Kirisaki High School Kyudo Club.

It wasn't only because they were a powerhouse school that Kirisaki High School attracted attention. Kazemai High School stood out today because they had a team composed of only first-years, but even the starting lineup of Kirisaki High School had more than half of its members as first-years. Looking at the program, it seemed like they had substituted members on that very day. Before the word "Kirisaki," Minato felt himself getting goosebumps.

On the other hand, Ryouhei and Nanao looked at each other with expressions of glee.

"See them? Is that the favorite to win, Kirisaki High? I guess the ones in kyudogi are on the team. They kinda even look strong."

"The number of people in their cheering squad is impressive too. Ooh, that girl is cute. Should I go talk to her?"

"Huh? Are my eyes getting bad? It looks like I'm seeing two people who look exactly alike coming this way!"

"No, I'm seeing that too?"

As they talked, the two people who looked exactly alike did not stop walking, and Nanao and Ryouhei panicked about whether or not they heard their conversation.

The twin brothers, Sugawara Senichi and Manji, stopped at almost the same time. Their bangs were arranged symmetrically to each other’s, and it was the one with his bangs parted to the left who introduced the two of them.

"Hellooo, are you the Kazemai High School Kyudo Club? We are the Sugawaras from the Kirisaki High School Kyudo Club. We're also first-years like you, so please treat us well. So, you there, the girls in our club wouldn't talk to a gaudy, airheaded guy like you. Oh, and that huge, dumb-looking guy over there too. Ah, you don't just look it, you really are dumb, right?"

Oh crap, they did hear us. They have pretty sharp ears, Nanao thought. Then, Kaito stepped forward.

"You guys have some nerve to come here and line up like some loser doppelgangers! Why don't you just piss off and make your faces even more like a horror movie!"

"Wow, what's with this rude boy?"

"Isn't the one who's rude here you guys?"

"Kaito, stop it. You two should go back to your own place as well."

As Seiya was calming Kaito down, the twins' target moved somewhere else. Scanning over the Kazemai High School club members as though evaluating them, their gazes stopped before Minato.

"…Hey, weren't you on the same team as Shuu in middle school. This guy over here, too. When I saw the program, I was wondering where I saw your names before, but now I finally remembered. Aah, Narumiya-kun and Takehaya-kun, right? I guess you guys must be pretty good to get teamed up with Shuu?"

When the older brother Senichi was alternately looking at Minato and Seiya, the younger brother Manji did the same. When they both did the same thing like this, it looked like they were drunk to someone else watching.

"It's really you, the guy who was the oomae for that three-person tachi. I remembered because the girls were screaming about how cool you were. If I remember correctly, didn't you get hayake at the prefectural tournament finals and self-destructed? Have you recovered from your hayake since then, Narumiya-kun? Well, our kai is also short, so should we worry about it?"

"Man, a short kai and hayake are two different things."

"Ah, that's right."

The twins laughed strangely, but the people around them kept their mouths shut. Not because they couldn't refute them, but because they were overwhelmed by the person who appeared from behind.

Gorgeous, un-Japanese, looks and disciplined movements. Someone who could not permit others to mimic him with his overwhelming presence——.

Fujiwara Shuu smiled elegantly.

"Sen, Man, you two are too talkative today. It's better to stop on that matter. ——It's been a while, Seiya. And, Minato."

"…Shuu."

As long as one continued to do kyudo, there was no escape from seeing the figure of Fujiwara Shuu. But even as he was resigned to that fact, his feet froze from seeing the person himself right before his eyes.

Shuu stepped forward, still wearing a smile, and stopped in front of Seiya, who stood in front of Minato.

"Are you still acting as Minato's knight like always, Seiya? I was surprised when I was told that you chose another high school as well, not just Minato."

"Aren't you the one who never changed, Shuu? I heard that you did a twenty shot kaichuu the other day. Even in high school, the name of the 'Young Lord' is still going strong."

"I have no interest in such a common name. Hey, Minato."

Shuu went past Seiya and stood next to Minato.

In that moment, Minato stopped breathing. Nobody could get close to the two, who were face-to-face with their right shoulders next to each other's.

"Minato, do you remember? How Saionji-sensei, who was a former Imperial Guard, had bad hearing in his left ear, so we always brought our faces close to his right ear like this to speak to him... We were still in elementary school, so when we wanted Sensei to listen to us, we would fight for his right side."

"I remember."

"And, Minato," Shuu put his hand on Minato's left flank. "Does this still hurt?"

"…No."

"I see, that's good."

"…I know that you turned your back on me, Shuu. We lost the championship of the prefecturals because I got hayake, even though you got a kaichuu… I, who ran away without being able to overcome my hayake, cannot face you."

"I have never turned my back on you even once. I didn't say anything because I believed that there were no words of sympathy or reprimands that would suit you. ——Four years ago, when you suddenly disappeared before me, I didn't know it was because you had suffered that injury. When we met again in middle school, I realized just how much I've been eagerly waiting for you. I still believe you will definitely return before me this time. Show me your kyudo again."

"Shuu…"

"Although he never said it, Saionji-sensei never taught anyone personally no matter how much he was asked. When he believed that it was the last duty entrusted to an old archer, he took it on. He seemed convinced that that duty was the two boys before him. That meeting was a gift from the god of the bow——. I should go soon, my senpais are looking for us."

When he looked, he saw a boy with a calm and carefree air about him and another boy, both beckoning them over with clear file folders that appeared to be idol merch.

Shuu took a step away from Minato, called the twins and left. The others, not to mention Minato, stood stock still as though wondering if they were having a dream.

But, Kaito was different. Even after the three from Kirisaki High School left, his anger did not settle down.

"Seiya and Narumiya came from Kirisaki Middle School? Seiya, when we first met, I asked you what middle school did you come from. You said something like 'I don't think you'd know the name even if I told you.' Aren't they a prestigious kyudo school… I thought you guys just lost in the first round when you said you guys lost at the finals of the middle school prefectural tournament. Why did you keep quiet? Ryouhei, didn't you know about this too?"

"Huh? I didn't even remember the name of the middle school Minato and Seiya went to. I just knew it was a school where kyudo was popular."

Seiya went between the two of them.

"Don't blame Ryouhei. I just didn't want to be interrogated if it was known that we were from Kirisaki Middle School. If you're that curious about it, you should have looked us up, right?"

"Haa, because of this, you guys… Are you guys happy to get looked up by me? Keeping secrets means you don't trust us. Why did students from other schools know, but we didn't? Don't screw around with us. Even though I was thinking that I could acknowledge you guys a little bit…" Kaito said as if spitting it out, then turned on his heel.

"Kacchan! I'll bring Kacchan back, so just go on ahead, guys!"

Nanao chased after Kaito.

Kaito sat at the edge of a flowerbed in a courtyard away from the kyudojo. His more-than-usual sullen aura was at full throttle, uselessly intimidating passersby. Nanao sat next to him, and tried his best to speak with a light tone.

"Ka—cchan, won't the opening ceremony and the yawatashi be starting soon? Let's get going."

"We don't have to be there, so isn't it okay? I'll stay here for now."

"Geez, Kacchan. You didn't have to get so angry about that, did you? They didn't mean anything bad by hiding stuff, and hiding what middle school they came from isn't that big of a deal."

"That's exactly why! What kind of teammates wouldn't even confide stuff that isn't that big of a deal to us? And on top of that, what's with those twins? Fujiwara and Sugawara, stop swarming me with all that warawara internet slang. (1) I won't forgive anyone who talks bad about our club members. That seriously pisses me off…"

"Even Kacchan is saying bad jokes…"

"Shut up, I wasn't joking!"

Oh, I see, Nanao thought. Kaito was angrier with himself for not being someone to depend on, even though they were all comrades, rather than having secrets hidden from him.

Kaito boasted a high hitting rate even in middle school, but he was never once chosen as a team member for a team competition. The reason given by the advisor was that there was no spirit of cooperation with a loner, but Nanao guessed that he was instead demanding a feeling of comradeship too much, and the people around Kaito disliked his company. No one was as devoted to kyudo as Kaito was, and there were many who believed that it was all fine as long as they were able to have fun. Their stances were different depending on whether one thought of kyudo as a martial art or a sport, and to say nothing of the environment of club activities in middle school, where the probability of those who possessed the same amount of zeal gathering together was low.

The power created by the feeling of "liking something" was great, for better or for worse, and the more earnest that liking was, the more confusion and misunderstandings were created. Minato, Seiya and Kaito were very similar to each other not just because they wanted to get better at kyudo, but also because they harbored a longing to win in a team battle.

They really are such irritating people.

Do they know zeal flows from high places to low?

Everyone's zeal is even able to pour into me. If you don't take responsibility for that, won't it be a pain?

"Alright, stop worrying about all that and let's get going! Don't you want to win the prefecturals?"

"Hah? What's got into you all of a sudden, Nanao?"

"If you don't go to the opening ceremony, I'll keep calling you 'Kacchan' here! Kacchan, Kacchan, Kacchan!"

"Nanaooo, you bastaaard! Do you have a grudge against me?"

"Everyone—, this person is called 'Kacchan.' If you call his name, he will cry from happiness. When I say 'One, two,' you say 'Kachaaan.' One, two—"

"Na-na-o!"

Kaito pursued the running Nanao, and two of them headed for the venue for the opening ceremony.

At that time, Minato and Seiya looked truly apologetic.

"Sorry, Ryouhei. You didn't do anything wrong at all."

"It's fine, Minato. I think Kaito-kun was just a little surprised, that's all."

Seiya then spoke.

"Kaito might be right. I should have talked to everyone properly. And then, finding out things about your teammates from an outsider on top of that doesn't feel too good, huh. I'm disqualified from being the club president."

"What are you saying? You're the only person I can consider to be the club president, Seiya. You're smart, and nice to everyone—a friend I can really be proud of."

"You're making too much of me. What if I was a bad person who was trying to use everyone?"

"You're not. I guarantee it. You're a good guy."

Seiya widened his eyes at Ryouhei, who spoke without any hesitation. Although he never tricked him, Ryouhei was completely unaware that Seiya's good qualities were all because he was highly calculating and extremely careful, and he always honestly admired him. He did not know how much Seiya was healed by that purity. Ryouhei's eyes, just like his dog Bear's, turned towards him. He didn't want to be the kind of man who disappointed them.

"When I get the chance, I'll be the one talking to Kaito properly about it. First, let's focus on the competition."

"Oh, that's right."

Ever since Kaito had hit the nail on the head about him, Seiya had cosntantly reflected on whether or not he had been acting a little cold towards him. When Kaito returned right before the opening ceremony, Minato and the others felt relieved for the moment.

After the yawatashi, the girls' individual competition started.

Hanazawa, Shiragiku and Seo put on their yugake, took their bows, arrows and tsurumaki containing backup bowstrings (kaezuru) and went to the third waiting area (hikae). Tomi-sensei also accompanied them as their manager. Kaito and Nanao also headed there a little later.

The first tachi of girls did their yuu bows with the signal to "start." While a great crowd watched, the oomae rose after nocking her arrow and went into the ashibumi position. Douzukuri, yugamae, she distinctly carried out the Shahou Hassetsu.

The cheering squad for Kazemai High School took their places in a section of the stands and waited for their turn. The stands were filled with groups putting up cheering banners and girls holding uchiwa fans (2) with kasumi-mato (3) designs on them. After many tachi finished, it was finally the Kazemai High School girls' kyudo team's turn.

Hanazawa hit with her first shot. They all shouted out "Alright!" at the same time. Cheering in kyudo was not permitted except for calling out "Alright" and applauding, but there was an especially good feeling at the moment where one was about to witness a kaichuu. Because the archer wasn't allowed to express emotions to their results, they could not take a triumphant pose when they hit, or feel bitter when they missed, only dispassionately moving on to their next action.

In the first round, Hanazawa hit, Shiragiku missed, and Seo hit. The second round was miss, miss, hit… Thus, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo put out the adequate results of two hits, two hits and three hits respectively.

On the other hand, for the boys, Kaito was out of form. Even though he hit for his first shot, for his second and third shots he kept landing his arrow right in front of the target.

For Minato in the stands, Kaito's bad form felt like it was his own. He wondered if the confrontation with Kirisaki High School from before had a bad effect on him. Next to him, Masa-san also had a "hmm" look on his face.

"Isn't it unusual for Kaito be nervous? His tenouchi turned back to its form from before the training camp."

Even though it could have been fixed with one shout, once nyuujou began no one could give advice to the archers. That applied to even Tomi-sensei, who was standing right next to the shajo as the manager.

After all the individual competitions ended, the results were Motomura and Shuu from Kirisaki High School both getting kaichuu, and then after the subsequent izume competition (4), Shuu was crowned as the victor of the boys' competition. For Kazemai High School, Seo with seven hits would be advancing to the prefectural finals, but Nanao with five hits, Hanazawa with four hits, and Kaito and Shiragiku with three hits would unfortunately not be advancing. Everyone got advice from Tomi-sensei, and there were few words spoken as they set forth on their way home.

For the second day's team competition, the sky was covered with gray clouds—a completely change from the day before.

The first round. When the first tachi finished, the target viewers went to the azuchi to perform verification work. They held out a number plate that displayed the number of hits, and were crouching down on the left side of each target. An announcement came on.

"Please return the arrows. The results will be announced as follows. First shajo, for the first group:  one, three, two, one, four, total eleven hits. Second shajo, for the second group: two, zero, one, one, two, total six hits. That is all."

By chance, Kirisaki High School and Kazemai High School ended up shooting alongside each other, with Kirisaki in the first shajo and Kazemai in the second. The shooting order for Kirisaki was Motomura, Senichi, Manji, Sase, and Shuu.

With the confirmation of names in the third hikae, the officials gathered their tsurumaki. They were worried about what would happen with Kaito's poor condition in the individuals, but instead of returning to his normal mode, he was more motivated than ever.

"It's possible to make up the difference between us and Kirisaki. Everyone, put in more spirit!"

"Roger!" Ryouhei and Nanao responded.

Minato could barely sleep last night, probably because of his meeting with Shuu, but now his head felt strangely clear. He was glad to know that Shuu hadn't given up on him, and a strong desire was born within him, not only for his hayake to not act up at all, but also to not expose an unsightly figure to Shuu.

A desire that was too strong—an obsession that the bow hated.

The nyuujou began. At the signal to start, they did their yuu bows, then stood up and went to the shooting line. Minato hid his fast-beating heart, putting on an expression of ignorance as he chose a hitote from four arrows.

The first shot. The oomae for Kirisaki High School was the third-year Motomura. A person who shot calmly, appropriate for a club president, he won the individual competition at the prefectural tournament last year. He drew his bow as though he was having a leisurely conversation with it, and hit right on the target.

On the other hand, Kaito shot offensively with plenty of vigor, releasing an arrow with a force that made his opponent flinch from the spirit, no matter that it was just an unmoving target. However, he still hadn't come out of his slump from the day before, and his arrow went over the target.

When the oomae entered kai, the second archer of each team began uchiokoshi. Since gyousha was carried out at intervals in individual competitions, one raised their bow at the previous person's "tsurune," but team competitions had a time limit so the intervals were quickened. Ryouhei stood up when the person before him finished his douzukuri, and smoothly switched over to shooting.  

However, tsurune consecutively resounded twice from Kirisaki High School. That was because their second and third archers Senichi and Manji shot their arrows in exact rapid succession. Kirisaki's cheering squad seemed used to it, since they cheered "Alright!" "Alright!" rhythmically. But others were semi-dumbfounded at the unexpectedly quick hanare of the third archer. It could be understood if the time limit was imminent, but there was no need to shoot it that fast from the start.

Bewildered by the twins' time-difference attack, Ryouhei, who was entering hikiwake, missed the timing of his hanare and lost his chance to get a hit. Seiya, going after him in third, kept his own pace and got a hit.

Kirisaki High School's fourth was the vice-president Sase. Sase was an idol lover and called disappointingly handsome by those around him, but he was the type of person who only had to know the key points of hitting the target once, and then he would never miss on that day. He nimbly did hikiwake and clinched a hit.

Kazemai High School's fourth, Nanao, was always sparkling. Him feeling the strong urge to please others might have been because of the idol-like disposition he was born with. When he got a hit, there was a big cheer from the girls.

The ochi of Kirisaki High School was Shuu. His shooting was different from that of a high schooler. Perhaps it was because his grace was revealing itself from within. It was still different from Masa-san's dignified shots, but they both had a picturesque quality in common. He capitalised on the physique he was blessed with, and elegantly and grandly performed hikiwake. A strong kai without the slightest tremor. At the right time, his readied arrow ran ahead. He of course hit the target.

Kirisaki High School's intervals were quick, and Motomura finished his second shot with a hit, but Minato was slowly raising his bow.

Minato's shot was similar to the moment one immersed one's hand in running river water. The beauty of the limpid water and its crisp coldness were pleasant. He stretched out at kai, then got a hit on the three o'clock position on the target.

At his second shot as well, Kaito did not hit.

And then, to make matters worse, Ryouhei had a "shitsu" even though he had hit.

When shooting, there were times when a mistake could be made. This was called a shitsu, and it could be dropping the bow at hanare, or it could be a "hazukobore" where the nocked arrow came loose from the string during the gyousha after torikake (nocking the arrow), but in Ryouhei's case it was a "tsurugire" (bowstring break).

Ryouhei's head turned completely blank. There was an etiquette for dealing with shitsu, and it must be carried through properly, but he was at a complete loss as to what to do with his hands. Ah, he remembered. I move the broken string closer with my foot and get into kiza, pick up the string and hold it with my left hand and roll it into a ring with my right hand, then pick my bow up with the other hand, slide back to the shooting line on my knees and do a yuu bow that signifies shame.

He handed over his bow and broken string to the facilitator, and then the manager re-stringed the backup string outside the shajo, but during that time the other members continued shooting, with Seiya and Nanao hitting, but Minato missing. Ryouhei could not move onto the next movement because he had no bow, so he restlessly waited for it to be returned to him.

When he received his bow with the stringed bowstring, he quickly finished nocking his arrow and stood up. Although there wasn't much time lost even with a broken string, Kirisaki High School had faster intervals than the norm, with Manji already finishing his third shot. For that reason, Ryouhei got the wrong impression that they were late.

As Kazemai High School also went into its third set, Kaito finally got his shooting down. The cheering squad also cheered with all that they had.

Ryouhei hurriedly did hikiwake, and even Seiya did hikiwake as though following him. Nanao, standing behind them, also got flustered. If Seiya shot earlier than Ryouhei, then even if his arrow hit it would be invalid. Caught up in it, Nanao shortened the interval as well and lifted up his bow. Perhaps because he lifted his bow quicker than usual, the arrow missed the target along with an unpleasant-sounding tsurune.

While Kirisaki High School was smoothly making matooto (sound of arrow hitting target) resound, for Kazemai High School only Kaito and Seiya hit for their third shots. Minato was swallowed up by the premature course of events, and he ended up holding out at kai longer than usual. But, on the contrary his hanare became slacker, and his arrow bounced once before hitting the target.

In the stands, Hanazawa, Shiragiku, and Seo were fretting.

"I wish they'd also count arrows that bounced once as a hit."

"It is because 'hakiya' are arrows that swept against the ground and did not properly reach the target."

"Kirisaki High School has so far almost never missed. I can't believe this is just the qualifiers for the prefectural tournament."

Ryouhei's rhythm was completely thrown off by his tsurugire. The matooto coming from the first shajo and the cheers from the stands made him feel as though he was being rushed. The more he thought about how bad it was to be slow because there was a time limit, the more he got impatient, until he couldn't even do torikake.  

As though laughing at the Kazemai High School club members, Kirisaki High School went into their fourth set, one by one clinching kaichuu. Shuu got his kaichuu, just as expected, and exited the shajo while bathed in thunderous applause. That gave more and more pressure, and Ryouhei did not understand at all what he was doing right now.

At the fourth set, Kaito and Ryouhei missed their last shots and exited. Infected by their impatience, Seiya also missed his chance to get a hit, but Nanao managed to recover somehow, and Minato also got a hit with his last arrow just as the warning bell sounded.

After Minato exited the shajo, the announcement informing the results came on.

"The results will be announced as follows. First shajo, group seventeen: four, three, four, four, total eighteen hits. Second shajo, group eighteen: one, one, three, three, two, total ten hits. That is all."

Ryouhei knitted his brows together.

"Haa, why did my string break right at that time… Even though I replaced it with a new one yesterday."

Hearing that, Nanao had an "aah" look on his face.

"Normally, it breaks in the middle, but yours snapped from the end.  Occasionally, there are strings that have ends that immediately snap. Also, it's not good to change to a new one just before a match, since the string isn't experienced."

"I see, I didn't know…"

"Well, tsurugire is common, you know? Let's switch our heads now!"

Tomi-sensei patted Kaito on the back.

"It's okay, it's okay. Predicting outcomes can be a hit-or-miss affair. Let's make a comeback for the next round."

"…Okay." Kaito answered with a meek expression.

In the afternoon, the second round began, but the wind that would boost the five from Kazemai High School did not blow.

Even Seiya, who was in good form during the first round, missed his first shot, and then the five ended up in the state where there was only a total of three hits by the time half of the ten shots were drawn. From behind Kirisaki High School, who was smoothly making matooto resound, the shouts of "Alright!" did not stop as the shooting continued.

Ryouhei's chest pounded as his palms became slippery with sweat.

Kaito fell into a state of losing self-confidence.

What's wrong with me. No matter how much I ask and answer myself what's wrong with me, this wave of slumps won't end. Somehow or other, I don't care how, please let one arrow hit, please, he ardently prayed.

Perhaps because Kaito's wish reached someone, all five members hit the target for their third set.

The results after the two rounds were finished were as followed.

(Circle means hit, x means miss; shots in order from left to right)

Kaito: ××〇×　××〇× 2

Ryouhei: ×〇××　××〇× 2

Seiya: 〇〇〇×　×〇〇〇 6

Nanao: 〇〇×〇　〇×〇〇 6

Minato: 〇××〇　×〇〇× 4

A "hawake" with twenty hits out of forty shots.

Ryouhei murmured as he looked at the record table on the wall.

"Could we advance to the finals with this…?"

"There's a fifty-fifty chance. We can only wait for the results for all the teams to come out, I guess."

Nanao rubbed his cheek with his thumb.

Kazemai High School got tenth place in the results from the prefectural tournament qualifiers.

They just barely made the last qualifying place.

Meanwhile for Kirisaki High School, Motomura and Shuu both got eight-shot kaichuu, Sase and Senichi got seven hits, and Manji got six hits—obtaining the high achievement of getting thirty-six hits out of forty shots, and achieved a passage to a first place that overwhelmingly outdistanced the others.

Previous | Next 

[cocoarosalia]

Truth or Shot (LadyNoir)

Follow A Sister on AO3

“Chat, i don't know about this” Ladybug said eyeing the high end bottle of tequila between them and the makeshift spinner that was aimed right at her.

“What’s not to know” Chat Noir rebutted with his famous sly smile.

“Truth or shot?”

When Ladybug asked Chat to be her drinking partner this wasn’t even close to what she had in mind. And yet, she shouldn’t have expected anything less from his usual grandiose theatrics. Especially after her tearful cries to him for comfort.

And it was so stupid too. What did it matter that her boyfriend for the past 6 months suddenly just decided to up and ditch her for some skank with massive tits? Wasn’t her fault she wasn’t packing a pair of state fair, blue ribbon watermelons under her shirt. But even with that ladybug still found herself buying the biggest bottle of vodka her wallet could muster and crying to chat to drink with her until she forgot who she really was under the mask. He agreed but only on two conditions.

A) she let him buy the alcohol for the occasion (because according to him her choice was “insultingly cheap”)

B) that they drink it his way (“What’s the point in destroying bad thoughts if you can’t have a little fun”)

Had she have known that his way consisted of a russian roulette of shots and dirty black secrets she would’ve easily settled on just chugging it alone in her apartment until she passed out watching old cartoons. But that was just the effect Chat had on her. One teasing smile and a gaze into those way too sexy emerald eyes and she could follow him to the ends of the earth.

Which coincidentally happened to be at the bottom of a Don Julio bottle.

Ladybug eyed the clear bottle again. On the one hand she could just keep everything buried in the shadows and just drink to her stomach’s discontent. On the other hand was the fact that she knew she had rather loose lips once alcohol got involved. So the way she saw it it was either voluntary truth or involuntary spewing of information….

She’d rather be aware of her stupidness first-hand

“Alright kitty, what do you wanna know?”

God, she could feel her hands pricking with pins and needles as she awaited her dreaded fate. This was such a stupid idea and she knew it but she was desperate for mental escape. But what would he ask? Would he ask of her identity, her true feelings of him, something even worse? Her heart beat erratically as she stared down his alluringly green eyes. She steeled her nerves, prepared to deflect anything.

“Last tuesday when you said my new scarf looked dumb and then said you were kidding...did you actually mean that?”

Oh that’s right, this is chat we’re talking about...he’s about as deep as water poured on a glass counter

Ladybug groaned in a mix of relief and annoyance “Yes kitty I meant that. The scarf actually brought out your eyes quite nicely”

“Works for me!” He grinned with his usual boyish charm. Taking the tequila bottle by the neck he carefully poured himself a shot and tipped it back. She couldn’t contain her composure as she snorted at his face twisted in disgust.

“Now explain to me why YOU’RE the one drinking again?”

“Oh simple” he said casually “Refuse to answer, you drink. Decide to answer, I drink”

“So either way, one of us is getting smashed”

“Or both of us, depending on how the night goes”

Ladybug’s lips split into an eager smile. “Sounds fair to me” She took hold of the spinner and whipped it around “Now let’s see how far we can really go”

Unsurprisingly, the arrow landed on everyone’s favorite feline. She looked at his face for any kind of discomfort but it appeared his poker face was air tight as he balanced his shot glass on the tip of his nose.

“Well kitty?” she said, leaning back into her chair atop a cafe roof “Pick your poison”

“Ooo sexy choice of words my lady” Chat replied, still relaxed in his own chair “But for the sake of fun i’ll choose truth”

Ladybug drummed her fingers along her chin, humming absently while she thought about her question. When it finally hit her, her eager smile slid into something more devious and rather mischievous.

“What was the last thing you searched on your phone”

A flurry of giggles spilled from her lips as she watched Chat nearly fall out of his chair and directly onto his poor kitty cat ears.

“W-why do you wanna know that?” He demanded

She smirked at his clear discomfort “Because either I get to learn about all those naughty fanfics that I KNOW you read on your off time OR I get to see you squirm and down another shot”

Ladybug was really starting to turn her opinion around on this whole game of his since it meant watching the inner machinations of her poor kitty’s mind (which of course amounted to nothing more than a knocked over milk carton). Chat wracked his brain endlessly for some type of loophole out of this, but, sadly he could find none and had to concede defeat.

He straightened out his back and cleared his throat. Ladybug rolled her eyes, all of this for a silly secret. What a ham.

“The last thing I looked at were porn fics about us”

She was stunned silent. She didn’t think he’d actually admit it! She moved to blindly just pour herself a shot but then paused. What if he was lying? Even better, if he was telling the truth...just how filthy were these fics of his?

“I’d like your phone please minou” She said plainly

Chat’s eyes were as wide as the twinkling moon above them “FOR WHAT!? I told the truth”

Ladybug clicked her teeth disapprovingly “Now kitty, such an outlandish answer demands proof don’t you think?”

“Not really, no”

she swooped up his phone into her hands before he could even have time to blink  “Isn’t that unfortunate for you then”

She fully expected for him to be lying, covering up something more embarrassing under something lewd and outrageous

Oh how she only wished

Pages upon pages, bookmarks beyond bookmarks of various levels of smut were plastered along his phone screen. And the worse part was that it ranged! One minute she could be glancing over a sweet intimate peace on them revealing themselves to one another and in a heartwarming flurry of emotions they would pour out their love in a beautiful show of trust and acceptance….

And the next she’s reading one where Chat has her strung up in a hotel room with a vibrator shoved up between her legs while he’s smacking her ass and she’s calling him sir and begging for more

Suffice it to say the cat was well out of its bag

Ladybug gently put the phone down with her face matching well to her suit and was instantly met with both shot glasses filled to the brim being pushed her way. She glanced up at him, considering protesting but his reply left her with nothing to combat against

“One is for me telling the truth. The other is for putting me through that humiliation”

She sighed and bravely downed both shots, the plan was to get wasted after all

Shortly after that little fiasco the pair fell into something of a rhythm. They asked about each other’s lives and families, experiences and regrets and within about 3 shots each they were pretty fucking comfortable with one another.

“Did your parents ever give you the birds and bees talk?”

“My father? Not a chance in hell. The man tossed me a ‘my body and me’ book and never looked back. Have you ever, you know, ‘walked in’ on your parents?”

“I so supremely do NOT want to relive that trauma (I still will never look at marshmallows the same ever again) so I move to drink.”

“Booo lame ladybug”

“Oh shut up you weren’t there in the fall of my 11th year”

“Was it really that bad-”

“YES IT WAS THAT BAD NOW LET ME DESTROY THE MEMORIES IN ALCOHOL”

It was about 4 more shots in and the realization that, yes, Ladybug has had a wardrobe malfunction once before (AND ON THE ONE DAY HE HAD TO TAKE OFF FOR OTHER WORK) that she began to finally feel all the booze hit her system. Suddenly the space around her began to feel hazy and warm while her suit felt itchy and too tight. Her glazed eyes peered over at chat gulping down another shot. And then, she had that thought. The kind of thought that only borderline drunks and rabid fangirls has.

Chat was stupidly attractive

Ok, obviously she’d never say he was bad looking at all but he was a FAR cry from what he used to look like when they were just plucky teenagers trying to figure out what the hell a hormone even was. He used to be nothing but skin and bone, Lithe, lanky, and in much need of a well cooked homemade meal. Not to mention his speech wasn’t much better with his sizeable collection of horrendous puns and white knight way of “courting” her. It was cute and all, maybe even charming sometimes, but she never felt anything more than a fluttering crush that would peter out under the immense weight of her puppy love crush on Adrien Agreste.

But somewhere in between their usherance into adulthood and agreeing that fucking during work time would NOT be the best use of their time, Chat decided to get all….stimulating.

I mean just a heads up that he would run off and be remodeled into the son of Adonis himself would’ve been appreciated. He grew to a dizzying 6”3 seemingly overnight, towering over her tiny frame and taking an annoying amount of pleasure from their height difference. He grew his hair out longer and was apparently hitting the gym EVERY. FUCKING. DAY cause while he wasn’t a beef cake he definitely was not the one you’d wanna fuck with in a bar fight

But on a rooftop with all her inhibitors drowned in a sea of Don Julio?

She’d fuck with him. Ohhhh She’d fuck with him goooooood.

Ladybug suddenly stood up from her seat and slowly raked her eyes over Chat’s sculpted body. He looked at her with a confused expression. ‘He has no idea, does he?’ She mused ‘That makes this even more fun’.

It was as if her body was running completely on autopilot, operating on nothing but blind desire. She sauntered her way to the other side of the table, her hips swaying to an almost exaggerated extent. She could tell that Chat was getting antsy now, his tail flicking around nervously. She was getting way too close for someone not saying a word.

So when she just plopped herself onto his lap and wrapped her arms possessively around his neck it was like the air was being knocked clean out of him.

“W-woah there cowgirl!” He sputtered nervously “I think your seat is on the other side of that table over there”

Ladybug ignored him, much to his dismay. She just pressed her body in closer, the smell of the alcohol seeping from her lips. It left his mind empty for a moment. Normally the smell of alcohol made him feel a little nauseous but with it being mixed with her cherry gum that she must’ve been chewing earlier it left him with a all too familiar tingle sitting at the meeting of his legs. She really needed to hop off him...preferably sooner rather than later.

She lifted her head from the cook of his neck and looked up at him. Damn, she was even cuter and sexier up close. Age clearly did wonders for his favorite bug. Her face still had its usual plush cheeks, dotted with freckled that looked like stars dancing across her face. And she even stayed pretty much the same height (to which he will never get over since it meant he could plop his head atop hers which, come on, who wouldn’t). But she must’ve sold her first born to Aphrodite cause when they met she was as thin as paper with the non-existent curves to match.

But now?

Now, she apparently just decided to have the body of a valley with abs of military grade steel and an ass that just refuses to quit (that he would honestly murder for). She was all the woman he could dream and drool for, powerful and athletic but still quite huggable after a bad day

And let him reiterate...she REALLY needs to hop off him

“Kitty” She sang sweetly in his ear “Let’s keep drinking”

Chat laughed nervously “I would say sure but first you’d need to be off of my lap for me to reach it and second I think you’ve had just about enough liquid courage in your system.”

She puffed out her cheeks defiantly. “Bullshit” She slurred out “I can get it my damn self! Just stay right here”

…….

“Oh this isn’t even fair”

Ladybug sat up on her knees, still nested comfortably on top of his legs and stretched herself backward to grab the bottle off the table. He had to hold on to her lower back with both hands just to keep her from falling off. Chat suddenly got a full open view of her smooth plane of stomach, delicately sculpted abs and soft peaks of breasts.

His mouth felt horribly dry, and there was really only one way he wanted to quench it

“Hah! Told you I could do it!” She exclaimed when she sat back up. Ladybug was a giggling mess, but not entirely at random. She knew what she was doing and she knew EXACTLY how it was affecting her favorite feline (These suits are obscenely thin). But she didn’t care. Chat wasn’t kidding about that liquid courage thing either, she felt like she could do anything her little heart desired. And unfortunately for his self-control that meant him.

“Congrats buginette but that still doesn’t change the fact that-”

“Chaton” She interrupted, the booze lightly clutched in her hand “Where do you go when we don’t patrol together”

He initially thought she was joking, teasing him about being unfaithful or something. Her eyes spoke to him differently though. There was a kind of mirth behind her eyes, a playfulness that gave him a feeling of high alert. This was still a game to her. But to what end? He hadn’t the slightest clue.

He attempted to laugh it off “Don’t tell me you think i’m swaying my tail for another superhero. I’m a one cat woman, Ladybug. Plus you could easily snap me in half over your knee so I’d rather not cheat on you”

He petted her head softly. If he could just lull her into passing out on his chest then he can just drop her off at her apartment and deal with his own biological problem in the comfort of his own apartment with some well written smut (Satisfaction Brought It Back, here he comes!). But Ladybug wasn’t giving in that easy.

She shook off his warm hand and started to giggle drunkenly “Someone’s a liar~” She cooed “That means that it’s BOTTOM’S UP KITTY CAT!”

Chat suddenly had the tequila bottle forced up against his lips. He swallowed down two big gulps of the burning liquid and spat out the rest. Ladybug laughed almost maniacally at his predicament.

“Christ that burns” Chat said after catching his breath “And are you insane? I’m not lying!”

Her laughing dyed down to a light chuckle “That’s not what that cute baker girl told me~”

The color that once painted his face was dyed a complete white. There’s no way she knew. He always waited at least 5 minutes before approaching her apartment. She’s just crazy! Yea...she was just being a crazy, deluded drunk…

Right?

Her lips were just a hair’s breadth away from his ear “From what I hear, you’ve been visiting that Marinette girl eeeevery night when you’re not with me”

“A-and what about you” He said defensively “It’s not like you’ve been able to keep your hands to yourself around that model Adrien….A-at least from what I’ve heard anyway”

Honestly he couldn’t care less that she was more into him as a civilian than a hero. As time wore on and they got older he realized that if she liked him one way then chances were that she’d like him the other way too. He was honestly just being a pussy about the whole thing but figured that he’d wait until she was ready. Until then he had no problem playing her mystery lover that she could visit in the dead of night. His window will always be open for her.

Ladybug hummed in agreement “Hmm that is true I do enjoy rocking his little model world whenever I can”

‘I know she’s talking about me but that salt doesn’t burn any less’

“But the way I see it” Her eyes darkened with a predatory hunger “He’s not here right now, is he?”

Chat felt like he was having an out of body experience. Ladybug, his partner in justice, woman of his heart and subsequent wet dreams was currently smacking her cherry alcohol tasting lips to his. It was all he had ever wished for in the dead of night. He had reached his nirvana!

….until his stupid conscious had to come kicking him in his leather bound tail

He let out a small whimper of regret. He could feel Ladybug just starting to poke her tongue through his lips right before he took hold of her face. He pulled her away and caught his breath. The look in her eyes set his whole body on fire, eyes foggy with wanton desire and lips tinted pink with what little kissing she could get in. Fuck, he wasn’t drunk enough for this!

“Look,” He said reluctantly “I want this, sweet merciful christ I want this so fucking bad it quite literally hurts to not have my tongue down your throat right now.” He sighed for what felt like the 15th time that night “But I am a gentleman first and I won’t take advantage of you like this. You’re drunk, possibly emotionally damaged as well, and it would honestly be scummy of me to prey on that just because I want to fuck you into the morning light. I’m taking you home, you’re gonna go to bed and we’re gonna forget any of this even happened. Plus, who knows, you might just reconcile with your ex or some sappy shit like that”

“Well that’s fucking stupid”

Huh?

Ladybug honestly looked annoyed by his impassioned speech. She put the alcohol back onto the table and wrapped her arms back around Chat’s neck. She even wiggled her butt on his lap to punish him a little.

“I don’t give a ripe, flying fuck about that dickless fuckboy.”

Chat doesn’t think he’s ever heard her say fuck so many times in a sentence….it was honestly super hot

“As much as i’ve been fucking Adrien I know he has his sights on another. So I’m currently 0-2 on getting consistent dick and it’s making me want to beat the nearest criminal till he bleeds out”

‘This feels like a one-sided conversation and I genuinely do not care’

“Now you listen here, kitty cat. I like you. Hell, I think I might even love you. Certainly enough to have been wanting to fuck you since entering college. So are you gonna let me have what I want?”

‘This night could not possibly get any better!’

He leaned in to give her everything he had and more but paused ‘Oh wait. Yes it can!’

“One question before we wake up the neighborhood”

Ladybug clicked her tongue in irritation “What now?”

Chat laughed at her eagerness and nestled in her chest “What exactly was your ex’s name anyway?”

“What does that matter?” She was getting impatient, how cute

“Because,” Chat dropped his suit and looked up at her with a dangerously playful look in his eye “Famous model Adrien Agreste wants to make sure he calls him by the right name while i’m bragging about how good i’m giving it to you”

Ladybug didn’t even bother making a show out of dropping her suit as she grabbed the tequila one last time, taking a massive swig “His name was Liam”

Adrien took it from her hands and swallowed the rest

“Let’s see if we can make you forget that”

[rattlung]

rivers and roads pt 3

whats up it’s ur boy skinny penis back on his bullshit with another chapter of that fnv mcgenji fic no one but me asked for.

I wrote this in like two days and hardly edited, but yknow, fuck it. if your preferred jam is ao3 you can read it there too. if smth isn’t tagged that you’d like to see tagged let me know

“From where you’re kneeling, this must look like an eighteen karat run of bad luck.” She said this while gesturing with her gun, the metal of it shining against the lanterns. It wasn’t too bright, but his head throbbed and the shine squeezed at his brain. When he didn’t make a move or try to say anything, just squinted up at the woman, she crouched down and patted his face twice, like a mother with a petulant child. “Ay, pobrecito…”

The smirk could be heard in her voice, he didn’t have to stare to see it. He couldn’t look away.

She gave a theatrical sigh and a played-up shrug when she stood again. “Truth is… the game was rigged from the start.” The woman pointed the gun, and he stared down the barrel. She didn’t stop smiling, he didn’t look away.

She fired.

=+=

The walk to Primm was not a long one. Before the sun rose over the hills, McCree could make out the few buildings and the winding track of a wooden roller coaster behind them. It was a pleasant surprise, as he thought he’d be going further than that before he reached another settlement. He made a mental note to study the Pip-Boy’s mapping system thoroughly to learn the roads better. Unreliable distances meant unreliable food and water rations, a dangerous mistake.

Mr. New Vegas’s voice carried him over the final hill, dipping straight into an overpass, the bridge leading to the entrance of the town on the left. McCree stayed right so he could cross once he reached it and kept his eyes on the cityline. There were no lights on, which he guessed wasn’t very odd, seeing as it was hardly five in the morning. It was doubtful a lot of people would be awake.

“Hey!”

McCree jolted and reached for the pistol at his hip. The shout had come from in front of him and was followed by a man hurrying toward his direction, dressed in a military esque uniform the same color as the dirt that dusted his boots.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The soldier demanded, stopping a good distance away from McCree. “Primm is off limits to civilians. Head back to Goodsprings or wherever you came from - before you get shot.”

McCree regarded him with an unimpressed look. “‘Preciate the concern, sir, but I can take care of myself.”

It was the trooper’s turn to raise a brow, giving McCree a once over. “I have my orders.”

“What’s goin’ on in Primm that needs stayin’ away from?” He asked instead of rolling his eyes.

The man appeared to age several years at just hearing the question, obviously troubled and doing a poor job of hiding it. “Convicts broke out of the prison up the road, took over the town. Anyone there is either dead or boarding up their windows. That, and the tribes of raiders causing trouble in the nearby areas.” He lifted up the goggles attached to his helmet to rub at his eyes and sighed deeply, exhausted. McCree would have felt bad for him if he’d liked him. “You really would be better off heading back.”

McCree looked back to the military camp he had not noticed during his approach. In the rising sunlight, the tents appeared to be more stones and collapsed homes against the horizon, but now that he was made aware it was hard to ignore. A few other men and women strolled around tiredly in matching gear as the man before him. His eyes were drawn toward the flag hanging limp above it all, and then the wind blew and he saw it: a two headed bear. NCR, the New California Republic. A democracy, expanding its uninvited reach from what was left of California. McCree thought he must’ve worked for them a few times, because he only knew them for their money.

“Shouldn’t you be helping?”

“We’d love to,” the soldier stated, sounding unenthused, “but they don’t fall under NCR jurisdiction. Even if they did, we’re in no shape to provide any support.”

McCree gave the collection of people behind him a pointed look. “You’re not?”

“No equipment, not enough hands to provide backup if need be. The convicts are armed with explosives, they’d slaughter us.” He crossed his arms, seemingly finished with McCree. “If you’ve got any more pressing questions, talk to Lieutenant Hayes. He’s in a tent down the road.” He turned away from McCree and started marching back to his post. “Stay on the west side of the road if you don’t want to get shot,” he called.

=+=

Lieutenant Hayes wasn’t in better spirits than his trooper that sent McCree his way, but he was polite. He greeted McCree with all of his titles that he only half-listened to and told him the same thing the other soldier did but in more detail. Not enough supplies, not enough men, convicts holding the town hostage, nothing they could do.

“They’re taken to calling themselves Powder Gangers,” he had said. “We think it’s because of the explosives meant to clear boulders they had stolen. They organized faster than anyone had thought - well, most of them, at least. This group split off from the main force, so they seem to be on their own.”

“What about the prison?”

“Most people just call it N.C.R.C.F., that’s NCR Correctional Facility. Convicts staged a coup; killed the guards and took over the prison.”

McCree left the tent unsurprised. The wasteland had never been a safe place. Thugs and raiders torturing innocents wasn’t a new development. The idea of basing the group off of an obsession with explosives, though, that was different, McCree had to give them that. He’d seen enough “cannibal” raider groups to last a lifetime.

Still, he thought back to Goodsprings, the man that had intercepted him and Hana at the Prospector Saloon, and the N.C.R.C.F. printed across his back. He hadn’t been dumb enough to think him a real security guard, but his presence in town was more troubling now knowing his origins. McCree retreated back to the overpass, keeping the idea of returning to Goodsprings in mind. But, firstly, he has to make sure there isn’t any trace of the woman in the lilac suit in Primm. If there wasn’t anything he’d be back at square one anyway.

There was a makeshift blockade on the west side of the bridge made mostly of wood planks and old rubber tires, a woman standing behind it at the post with a rifle in hand. “You’re going in there?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She scoffed, like she was surprised someone could be so stupid, and said, “Careful of the mines. Laid ‘em out in case they tried to initiate an attack.”

Most of the buildings he passed were either boarded up or hollowed out, crumbling toward the street. Among the trash and rubble were small pools of dried blood and bullet casings; the NCR hadn’t been overstating the situation in the slightest. The layout of the town - from what he could see as he approached off the bridge - was simple, unlike the winding road and similar buildings of Goodsprings. What was left of the main road was shaped in a ‘T’, headed by a large hotel with the roller coaster he had seen from down the way looming over it. An appropriately shaped sign titled the hotel “The Bison Steve”.

The front of the building to his left face the heading street, but McCree’s attention was drawn to the square office stood on the opposite side of it. Its roof was outlined by neon-light lettering reading “Mojave Express”. He recognized the company’s name, the very same company that issued the delivery order that had been left on him when he’d been attacked.

A gunshot rang out over his head. He heard the yelling from further in the town when his hearing cleared after the deafening pop. Two men, both dressed in armor that resembled the man’s from Goodsprings, rounded the corner.

“Get the fuck outta here,” one hissed, raising his pistol with a wild look in his eyes.

McCree didn’t say anything in return, only retrieved his own weapon in kind. He shot down the second man who had advanced even further than the first with a deadly looking blade. It clattered to the pavement, along with the man’s body, and the other yelled wordlessly. He fired at McCree, but the closest he came was a few bullets whizzing over his head. McCree put him down quick, once in the shoulder, second clean in the head.

They didn’t have much on them in way of supplies besides a few extra caps and ammo. The knife the thug had was deadly, but not in the sense that the cut would kill you. Rather, the rust and old blood it left behind would cause some sort of infection that’d finish you off. That, and the fact that the blade wobbled in its hilt, was reason enough to leave it behind. The gun the other had McCree unloaded and dropped in his bag.

When he’s sure no one else was on the streets looking to shoot him in the back, he makes his way to the Mojave Express.

There was a body propped against the side next to the door, a courier, by the looks of the messenger bag strapped around his shoulder, contracted with the NCR. The bag was covered in the same symbol printed on the flag the troopers had stood under. McCree opens the flap, finding a few bottles of clean looking water and flat bread wrapped in an extra t-shirt. McCree transferred the contents into his own bag before coming across a crumpled piece of paper underneath it all.

The ink was smudged in places, but there was no mistaking the contents of the letter. It was nearly an exact match to McCree’s own delivery order; the only difference being the manifest and the delivery order number. This man, Courier Four, was meant to deliver a pair of furry dice. He had no such thing on him, so McCree could only assume he had been stopping in to finish the contract and had been killed for his pay.

McCree folded the paper neatly and set it with his own, and left the man on the street.

=+=

Inside the Mojave Express, there was only an empty space behind the counter to greet him. Everything was silent except for his footsteps on the wooden floors, so he didn’t call out, not expecting anyone to be out back. It was a normal express office as far as he could tell; cleaner than most but McCree had a sneaking suspicion that was due to the raiders picking houses apart for supplies.

Besides crates of papers and bottles, the only thing interesting on the counter was a rather large piece of metal. It must have been some type of robot, he decided upon closer inspection, round and a little bigger than a dodgeball. He’d never seen anything like it before, had no idea what sort of function the little bot was supposed to be capable of - or how it would even function in the first place. Was it made to roll around? He doubted that, the several antennae melded in its base would make that difficult. He rolled it over to its side, revealing a miniature ventilation system on what he supposed was the bot’s underside. For cooling - or maybe a propulsion system so the bot hovered a few feet off the ground, maneuvering that way. A flying robot. Yes, McCree definitely wanted to see that bot working.

He ran his fingers over the metal casing, over a bullet hole, and against the plastic of a bumper sticker plastered on its side. It was bright red, even with a layer of dirt, and the lettering was blocky, reading “Roosevelt Academy; A Proud Bastion of American Ideals!", all white besides the large, bolded word “Bastion” in a gaudy yellow. There was a license plate on the other side of the bot, number itself unintelligible. The only thing that was left untarnished was the Great Midwest, Illinois, 2062.

As far as he could tell, there was no serious damage to the bot. There was no doubt it had seen some action, though, if the bullet holes were anything to go by. Whoever worked in this building had apparently tried their own repairs; piles of screws and scrap metal were strewn about the countertop, along with a few tools. McCree retrieved a screwdriver from the pile and opened the outer casing of the bot and peered inside. He grunted to himself. There were servos and gyroscopes that looked twisted and out of place, probably in need of recalibrating, something he’d be able to do himself if he had the know-how. He didn’t. What he could do, however, was replace the parts that needed fixing. What was laying around would be useful, but he needed more if he wanted to see this bot - hopefully - in the air.

Across the street from the Mojave Express building was something called the Vikki and Vance Casino. All of the windows were boarded up, and the only accessible entrance to the building was through the double doors from the heading street. McCree walked close to the walls and with his eyes on the road rather than in front of him.

Inside was a drastic difference to the exterior and last building he had been in. Countless people were milling about, everyone in the town who survived must have holed up in the casino once the convicts hit. The very entrance served as a barricade to the rest of the casino floor, all the lanterns lent to it to keep it nice and lit. It made the rest of the space difficult to see, as his eyes were still adjusted to the bright sun, which is probably what the folks had been hoping for.

An old man stood from the slot stool where he’d been sitting, not raising the pistol he had in his hand but not loosening his grip on it, either. McCree didn’t go for his own weapon, wanting to convey he meant no threat in the easiest way possible.

“I don’t know what it was that brought you to Primm, youngster,” the man started, voice smoother than what McCree would have expected, looking as worn as the man did, “but you might be wantin’ to rethink your plans. Town’s gone to hell.”

“Didn’t notice,” McCree said quietly, mostly to himself, but the man heard him and seemed to get some type of amusement out of it. “Who are you, if you don’t mind me askin’.”

“Johnson Nash, husband to Ruby Nash. Livin’ in Primm going on eight years now, thick ‘n thin.” He told McCree this all proudly, another smile crossing his features when he mentioned his wife. McCree decided he liked this man, and was glad he didn’t walk in the casino with his gun pulled. “I’m mostly a trader,” Nash continued, “not that that’s worth much with things the way they are. ‘M also in charge of the local Mojave Express Outpost.”

McCree tore his eyes away from where they had wandered as he listened - an old, shot up car on display with a protectron in a tiny cowboy hat patrolling in front of it - and stared back at the man. “I’m a courier with the Mojave Express.”

Nash gave him a strange look. “Well, I don’t have any work right now, sorry to say.”

“No, it ain’t - I lost a package I was supposed to deliver.”

“Oh, well alright. I can tell you everything I can. You got a delivery order you can show me?” McCree shouldered his bag over to rifle through it, retrieving the slip of paper and handing it over. Nash read it over and his brow raised, but he didn’t exactly look surprised. “You’re talkin’ about one of them packages. That job had strange written all over it, I tell ya, but it wasn’t like we were gonna turn down the caps.”

He handed the paper back to McCree, who returned it back to his bag. “What was strange about it?”

Nash settled back onto his stool, setting his pistol back on his lap and wiping his hands on his dusty overalls with a sigh. “That cowboy robot had us higher six couriers, each one carrying somethin’ a little different. One had a pair o’ dice, another a chess piece - that kind of stuff. Last I heard from the office, payment was received for the other five jobs.” He raised his brow again, nodding at McCree. “Guess it was just you and your chip that didn’t make it.”

“When you say cowboy robot, do y’mean that one?” McCree pointed to the back of the casino and Nash’s eyes followed his to the Protectron shuffling around.

Nash laughed once with a shake of his head, “Nah, that’s Primm Slim. He’s been here longer than me, I’d recognize him. Naw, this feller was much bigger, with a screen showin’ a smilin’ cowboy’s face.”

Victor. So there was no coincidence in the robot’s unlikely presence when he had been attacked, Victor was supposed to be there. But why? And no robot would do something on its own prerogative, so who programmed it? Who was watching for McCree?

“The first deadbeat we hired for your job cancelled,” Nash went on when McCree didn’t say anything. “Hope a storm from the Divide skins him alive,” he cursed, and even though McCree had only known him for about five minutes, he was sure this display of anger was uncharacteristic for the man. He seemed to think so, too, because he sighed again and shook his head. “Well, anyway. That’s where you came in.”

“They cancelled?” That was suspicious, like everything else about the whole ordeal. Had they known what would happen if they were to carry the chip?

“Yeah, he got this look on his face when he saw your name down on the courier list, expression got turned right around. Asked me if your name was real, and I said sure as the lack o’ rain, you was still kickin’. Then he turned down the job, just like that. I asked if he was sure - it was good money.” Nash shrugged. “‘Nope, let courier six carry the package,’ that’s what he said.” He gave McCree a long look, and then, grimly, said, “Like the Mojave’d sort you out or something. Then he just up and walked out. Never saw ‘im again.”

The idea of the courier stumped McCree. He knew plenty of people from his line of work, but none that would turn down money for him. At least he didn’t think he did. He accepted that, because of his most recent gunshot wound, he wasn’t as read up on his own history as anyone would like to be with themselves. Some things were fuzzy, others were gone completely. He could know this man, but there was also the possibility that he didn’t know him at all. Just another mystery to solve.

“Y’know who he was?” McCree asked Nash, already knowing the answer. “Where he went?”

“No idea,” Nash answered, just like McCree thought he would, but he still managed to feel a little disappointed. “Sounded like you two had some history for him to act like that - and turn down the money, too. Hope he didn’t see any trouble in that package of yours. Maybe he thought your name was bad luck.” Ain’t that the fucking truth. “Not for me to say,” the man finished with a shrug.

McCree couldn’t help but heave out a frustrated sigh. He scrubbed at his face, pinched at the bridge of his nose, then sighed again. Nash at least looked a little sorry for him. McCree would take what he could get.

“My package - it was stolen from me,” he informed. “Couple of guys with skulls painted on their faces, a woman in a purple checkered suit. They wouldn’t’ve passed through here, would they?”

Nash looked up, rubbing his chin in thought. “Well, now that ya mention it, a few nights back a townie was out at night scavenging for some supplies. He said he saw a lady in a daisy suit comin’ through with a couple of Los Muertos thugs, talking ‘bout a chip.”

It was something, a big something. It was evidence that he was on the right path, that the people who attacked him were here before and that they were leaving a trail. It should’ve made him happy, but it just made his chest tighten; didn’t ease anything, only filled him with more anticipation.

“That woman, she shot me. I need to know the best way to get to them.”

Nash didn’t seem too hung up on the prospect of McCree getting attacked, just continued to rub at his chin and think for another moment. “Well, the best way to do that would be to talk to Deputy Beagle. He was keepin’ some tabs on ‘em, slinkin’ around Bison Steve when your pretty lady and her thugs rolled through. He may’ve heard where they were goin’.”

McCree nodded, remembering the hotel on the heading street. “Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Don’t mention it. Before you go, lemme warn ya about somethin’,” Nash called as McCree turned for the door. “The Bison Steve, it’s where all the gangsters are holed up. They took Beagle hostage after they killed the sheriff. Guess it took ‘em a go of it to get ransomin’ right.”

“Good to know.”

“Just be careful out there, son.”

McCree smiled. “I can take care of myself just fine,” he assured for the second time that day.

=+=

The interior of Bison Steve was about as one would expect it to be after being overrun by criminals. Garbage cans were knocked over, the floors were covered with the trash from said cans, along with rubble from failing walls. Only a select few lights overhead still worked and even those flickered. There were vending machines that still hummed, though, with a few bottles of cola left.

McCree navigated the halls of the hotel quietly, picking up those bottles and anything he saw that seemed to work - or had once worked - by using a battery or similarly electronic. The footsteps he heard around him didn’t make him uneasy, but he still waited until he caught each man off guard and alone before he confronted them. The halls were long enough, the were walls thick enough, and was McCree fast enough to handle every convict quietly without causing too much of a commotion.

They hardly carried anything interesting, maybe a few sticks of dynamite and a pocket full of ammo, or a chem or two. Sometimes they had caps, other times they had bills that reminded him of old world cash, but those were printed with newer faces and other symbols. NCR cash. Made sense, them coming from one of the NCR facilities; was probably the only thing the guards had on them in the way of money when the convicts killed them.

From one convict he took the previously stolen guard armor and ventured into one of the hotel rooms in the hall. He tossed the chest piece onto the bed and searched the wardrobe against the wall. McCree appreciated everything Doc Amari had done and given him, but the vault suit she provided did little in way of protecting - from the sun and from bullets. He didn’t expect to find much better in the old clothes he found, but at least he would be more comfortable.

He shouldered off his bag to dress in some faded-from-age jeans and a collared button-up, then folded the vault suit and stuffed it into the bag. The blanket from the bed came with him after he strapped on the chest piece and laced up his boots. He checked it for stains - blood or otherwise - before he decided on any worth. It was red and thin, but large enough to wrap around his shoulders and cover the bold N.C.R.C.F. across his back. The last thing he needed was to be mistaken for a powder ganger and be shot down by an NCR trooper later down the road.

With the bag back around his shoulder and dressed in his new rags, McCree felt more like himself than he had since he’d been shot in the head. He adjusted the “homemade” serape to sit more securely and made for the door, but then he saw it. On top of the wardrobe he had rummaged through, seemingly untouched by the havoc around it and pristine as could be, was a desperado cowboy hat. McCree grinned when he pulled it down, gave the brim of it a few whacks to shake off any dust it had collected, and place it on top if his head with a content sigh.

Now he felt back in his own skin.

=+=

He found Beagle on the bottom floor in the back of the hotel, in the dining area’s kitchen. He was knelt in front of the fridges, hands bound in front of him. He looked ragged, his white hair wild and his face dirty, exaggerated by the pout pulling at his expression.

“I don’t suppose you’re here to rescue me?” He asked, having undoubtedly heard the gunshots that had took place just outside where his captors had been loitering. “I’d cross my fingers, but my hands are numb.”

McCree regarded the sorry looking man with a raised eyebrow. “You must be Deputy Beagle.”

“Why yes I am,” he replied, insolently in turn for McCree’s flatness. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m in a bit of a predicament here. Would appreciate it if you set me free.” Beagle held up his hands wired together, a deliberate gesture.

McCree made no move to untie him. “I hear you might have some information I need, some words about a few Los Muertos and a woman in a purple checkered suit.”

“Indeed I do, good sir, and I would be thrilled to share that information with you as soon as I’m freed from captivity. I’m gonna need to be in a calmer emotional state for my memory to function as we need it.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, McCree narrowed his eyes at the man before him just slightly. He absolutely did not want to bother with this conniver after the trouble he’s put him through - Nash did not mention the incinerator the leader had been sporting when McCree found him. Unfortunately, Beagle did not waver. With a grumble, the cowboy knelt to mess with the knot, pointedly ignoring Beagle and the victorious glint in his eyes when McCree pulled the bonds free.

“Well, that’s just marvelous.” The deputy stood, shaking out his wrists and flexing his bloodless fingers. “I’ll be makin’ my way outside, now. The airs, ah,” he glanced behind McCree and at the smouldering tables and singed bodies. “Well, it’s a little close in here.”

He checked the kitchen for anything useful, coming out with a few more bottles of water, and met Deputy Beagle outside of the Bison Hotel. He was looking out over the streets with his eyes narrowed and his revolver drawn, looking like a sad excuse for a western hero rather than the man who had just ran through the hotel lobby with his hands over his head in fear.

“Hey, Deputy.”

Beagle jumped, spun around, saw it was McCree, and changed his demeanor back to the calm and suave hero. “Well, that was quite the adventure,” he declared, like he had much to do with it. “We taught those convicts a thing or two, didn’t we?”

McCree decided not to roll his eyes. “Sure.”

“Breaking myself out of a hostage situation - not to diminish your role in the whole thing, of course - but it was quite thrilling. Problem is, there’s still no law in Primm,” he went on, which solidified McCree’s suspicion that Beagle was, in fact, being one hundred percent serious in his claims. He didn’t dare argue, didn’t exactly want to. “What’re we to do the next time ruffians menace us and hold us hostage?”

Grow a pair, McCree wanted to tell him, learn to use that gun instead of posing with it, quit your hero act, be one instead of pretending, among other things. “If yer boss is dead, don’t that make you the new sheriff?”

Beagle’s eyes widened. “Oh no, I’m just a deputy! And I can’t be a deputy without a sheriff. It’s called chain of command .” McCree felt his jaw set firmly. He wanted to hit this man. Beagle chose not to notice this. “We need a new sheriff, someone brave like you, but more of a homebody. Someone with experience who’ll settle down and watch over us.”

“Know anybody who’d fit the requirements?”

“I heard some of the Powder Gangers talkin’ about someone in the prison named Meyers. Said he used to be a sheriff ‘fore he got locked up. Then there’s the NCR just over the bridge, they’re likely to jump at the chance to control another town.”

McCree didn’t like his options. After having just run enough of the criminals out of town, the convict sheriff was a bad idea for obvious reasons. On the other hand, he wasn’t comfortable with turning the town over to the NCR as there were so few independent cities left in the desert. McCree thought back to the tired soldier he had spoken with, the state of the military camp he belonged to, and decided that the NCR wouldn’t do Primm much good, either.

“I’ll help you bring law back to Primm,” he told Beagle anyway. “Just give me some time to find someone.”

Deputy Beagle’s face lit up. “You will? That’s just marvelous! I’ll start thinking up questions for the interview!”

He turned to walk away, heading for Vikki and Vance with an excited bounce in his step before McCree called out to him. “You still owe me some information.”

The man wilted, but only for a moment. “Ah, yes. My memory is much clearer now that I’m free.” Again, McCree refused to roll his eyes. “I was sku - uh, performing recon on the Powder Gangers when some Los Muertos guys arrived with your friend in the suit. They were talking about some delivery they took from a courier. Assumin’ that was you.”

“Seems about right,” McCree conceded.

“They said they would be headin’ through Nipton to Novac to meet a contact there.”

McCree let him handle his Pip-Boy just long enough to mark the road he needed to walk to follow his attackers’ route, then he was off again. McCree was glad to see him go.

=+=

Before he left town, McCree was sure to stop in and thank Johnson Nash once more, and ask about the robot in his express office. A courier had dropped it off months back, he found out, and Nash got it working again but only for a while. He explained to McCree that he was planning on using it for courier work, but he hadn’t any luck with getting it running again. He gave permission to McCree to tinker with it, and promised him the bot if he got it working. The prospect of a new, fancy toy buzzing around was enough to get him to try. As he left the casino to make his attempt, Nash commented on the fruitlity of the whole thing, said he’d just take it to the Novac scrapyard and be done with it.

McCree ignored him, and worked for the better part of three hours, shocking himself numerous times and cursing out loud more times than that. The machine sputtered to life when the sun began to sink, the casing snapping shut on its own and the body of the bot rotating so it could propel itself into the air. The sudden reaction gave McCree a jolt, stumbling off his stool and onto his feet. He stared at the robot cautiously, not exactly knowing what to expect from it. It would be his luck to have the thing start up on a combat mode.

Instead of incinerating him where he stood, the little robot beeped a few times, tilting down enough as if it was staring at McCree.

“Well,” McCree said, hands on his hips. He nodded at his work and let himself feel proud for a moment. “Would ya look at that.”

The robot beeped again in response.

It seemed to be running fine, it’s flight wasn’t jagged or shaky, and there was no smoke - McCree always took that as a good sign. He grinned, eyes catching on the hideous bumper sticker on the bot’s side once again.

“A Proud Bastion of American Ideals, huh?” A confirmatory beep. “Alright, then. Let’s hit the road, Bastion. Could use help like yours.”

wwhwhwhwheeeeew lmao. yeh. 

[buzzdixonwriter]

The Long, Long Shadow Of Harrison Ford

I tried watching Blade Runner 2049, but I fell asleep twice during it.  

I know a lot of people like it, and it certainly is a technically proficient and well acted film, and it most certainly isn’t a dumb film but carefully and thoughtfully laid out…

…but I just couldn’t connect.

It’s really superior fan fic*, nothing to be ashamed of, but it’s still fan fic.

The relationship between Blade Runner 2049 and the original Blade Runner is like the relationship between 2001:  A Space Odyssey and 2010:  The Year We Make Contact:  In and of itself each of the latter films is a decent standalone movie.

As a sequel, however…

Here’s the thing about the original Blade Runner (and 2001, for that matter):   It’s a much better movie than it is a story.

Or, to swipe a line from Jim Steinman’s soundtrack for Streets Of Fire, “You’ll never know what it means but you’ll know how it feels.”

The original Blade Runner really doesn’t hold together logically as a story (2001 doesn’t, either; the whole “HAL goes nuts” sub-plot is ridiculous) but it works beautifully as a vision.

And Ridley Scott is certainly a visionary (as was Stanley Kubrick).

The problem I had connecting with Blade Runner 2049 is that it lacked the dream-like quality that made the original film work.

The original was illogical, contradictory, and messy but, hey, guess what:  Reality is like that.

The sequel does a really good job of nailing down all the loose corners, but in doing so they kill the original vision.

They were hamstrung by their intent to make sense of somebody else’s dream rather than explore their own.  To me it felt more like a collection of shout outs than a standalone story.

(I said something similar re 2001 and 2010, that the original was a butterfly and the sequel was a perfect replica of a butterfly in cast iron.)

It’s interesting to compare Blade Runner 2049 with Star Wars:  Episode VII – The Force Awakens.  Both films are extended builds to a key character’s appearance, in Blade Runner 2049 it’s Harrison Ford returning as Rick Deckard, while in The Force Awakens it’s Mark Hamill as Luke Skywalker.

(Sidebar:  Hamill may be the single most hated actor in all of Hollywood.  Who else ever got a two hour and fifteen minute big budget build to his #%@&ing close-up?)

Ford as Deckard has aged well for the part. ��One of Blade Runner 2049’s better choices is to show him as the beaten and tired survivor he would be, not the still lively indestructible semi-superman of Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull or the still lively romantic young scoundrel with only a few token gray hairs in his last Star Wars appearance.

Another crucial difference in my eyes was the lack of consistency in what Blade Runner 2049 showed on the screen.

The original all felt part and parcel of the same world, even towards the end where one notices the budget literally shrinking before one’s eyes.

But the different scenes and locales of Blade Runner 2049 never seemed part of the same reality.

The non-SPFX / CGI live action sequences seemed…well…not cheap but certainly economic.

And there’s nothing wrong with that…

…but by comparison the effects sequences looked too rich, too opulent.

Something a little less grandiose, a little less visionary would have served the film better.

Something a little more consistent in look and texture, too.

By contrast, Solo:  A Star Wars Story (or as I prefer to call it, Star Wars: Episode 0 --  Solo) gets it right.  

Solo is the best Star Wars since the original. 

It’s also the most political of the series (and the series is very political): Families torn apart, ID's constantly being checked, "we're the hostiles", the marauders being the proto-rebellion, gangsters corrupting imperial governors, Landro's female robot L3-37 fighting for droid rights and spawning a cybernetic rebellion, etc., etc., and of course, etc.

Despite behind the scenes controversy over the directing and the reshoots and the loss of a character due to an actor’s unavailability, Solo hangs together both as its own story and as a subset of the Star Wars universe:  Good story, good writing, good pacing, good cast (Woody Harrelson channeling Dennis Hopper is pretty awesome).

Unlike Blade Runner 2049, its live action and its special effects sequences all seem to belong to the same story.

Granted, except for the opening all the scenes took place out among the frontier of the empire, with sparsely populated grand vistas.

The call back to classic Westerns is quite deliberate and conscious, making Solo the most horse opera space opera of the series.

A knowledgeable viewer will recognize certain economic shortcuts taken in several key scenes, particularly in the beginning with its vast intergalactic shipyards and crowds of passengers, but they aren’t as jarring as the economies of Blade Runner 2049. 

After all the tiresome talk about trade alliances in other films, Solo gave me for the first time a sense of what the galactic economy was like and how it worked.

Solo also shows Han is a more heroic and almost as tragic a figure as Luke.  Episodes II thru VIII show that basically this whole mess is just one huge prolonged hissy fit by members of the Skywalker family.  For all their lecturing about balance and light and dark, the Jedi / Sith in general and the Skywalkers in particular are just a bunch of childish demigod Star Trek villains who treat the rest of the universe as expendable pawns in their multi-generational family feud.

Han, on the other hand, knows right from wrong.  He is brutally pragmatic, he will shoot first, and he will walk / run / hyper-jump away from trouble in order to save his own neck, but he also knows the strong are not justified in exploiting the weak.

An outlaw and a scoundrel, to be sure, but not a villain, never a villain.  He is the true moral core of the Star Wars universe.

So what caused all the negative reactions to Solo?

Bad trailers and ad campaign.   Audiences never got an adequate feel of what the movie would be like.

Bad advance word of mouth based on the behind the scenes controversy.

Audience burn out. Star Wars as a franchise has been around for 40 years now, entering its third generation of fans.  It’s not new and fresh and releasing too much material in too short a span makes the movies seem less special.

Not just political, but specifically draws parallels to US today -- and not positive ones.   The incel alt-right fan boys are all a’twitter over this.

Many of the visuals and set pieces were derivative of other movies.  This is not an uncommon or unfair criticism of any Star Wars movie, but this time the…uh…homages seemed a little more obvious.

However, I think the number one problem facing Solo (and this problem even haunts Blade Runner 2049, though not as badly) is Harrison Ford casts a long, long shadow and many people were unwilling to give Alden Ehrenreich a chance. 

Which is a pity, because it only took a few minutes for me to totally accept him as Young Han Solo and become thoroughly engrossed in his earliest adventures.

As stated above, Solo occurs before the events of The Phantom Menace because [REDACTED] gets killed in that film but is seen alive and well and fully functioning in this one. The film has an open ending in which [REDACTED] and Qi’ra (Emilia Clarke) loom large as potential problems for Solo but ya know what?  There’s no point in doing a direct sequel, at least not a theatrical one (live action or animated TV series, or novels or comics or video games, maybe).  We know [REDACTED] is going to be dead long before Han meets Luke, and there’s been no hint of Qi’ra anywhere else in the films, and each member of the audience can probably imagine a resolution to that sub-plot that would be more satisfying to them than anything Lucasfilm could come up with so why bother?

 *  And who am I to criticize fan fic?  Go buy The Most Dangerous Man In The World while you’ve still got the chance!

 © Buzz Dixon

[aion-rsa]

Nobody is an Action Movie That Questions ‘Toxic Masculinity’

https://ift.tt/39f1Es8

Hutch Mansell (Bob Odenkirk) is (as his film title suggests) a Nobody. He’s a schlub who gets up for the same soul-deadening routine each day: he drinking his coffee, forgets to take the garbage out, and sits at his boring desk job. He then comes home to kids who barely tolerate him and a wife who literally makes a barrier of pillows between them in their bed. When he fails to protect their house against a home invasion–even though he clearly could have–the sense of disappointment from his family is palpable.

But the incident awakens something long dormant in Hutch: a set of skills and a primal anger that served him well in a former life and career defined by violence. Hutch has to give that repressed rage an outlet, which unfortunately brings him into the sights of a deadly Russian crime boss, even as it reawakens his soul and reconnects him with his wife and family.

Directed by Ilya Naishuller (who helmed the equally explosive Hardcore Henry in 2015), Nobody also stars Christopher Lloyd, RZA, and Connie Nielsen as Hutch’s wife Becca, a successful career woman on her own terms, and who probably no longer needs her seemingly insubstantial husband all that much. Yet what Becca does or doesn’t know about Hutch’s past is one of the more intriguing questions that this action-packed film raises.

The Danish-born Nielsen’s first major English-language role was in 1997’s The Devil’s Advocate, and since then she’s appeared in films like Rushmore, Gladiator, One Hour Photo, The Ice Harvest and many more. A new audience embraced her more recently thanks to the role of Queen Hippolyta, the mother of Diana of Themyscira in Wonder Woman, Justice League, Wonder Woman 1984, and the just-released Zack Snyder’s Justice League, which sees her role beefed up considerably from the 2017 theatrical version.

Meanwhile, she and the great Odenkirk play off each other exceedingly well in Nobody, a fact that came up during our Zoom chat with the actress.

Den of Geek: Right at the beginning of this film, there’s a home invasion and Bob’s character, Hutch, doesn’t do anything to protect his family. Did that feel very relatable, this idea that your spouse may not have your back in a situation like that?

Connie Nielsen: I loved that scene. I loved how in the aftermath of that scene you had the neighbor literally representing toxic masculinity: “Oh if it was me, I would have taken him out.” And then you have the kid, our child, our teenage boy, so impressionable, and totally buying into this idea of masculinity: “Yeah. We could have taken him, Dad. We could have taken him.” And it’s just like that’s exactly what we’re trying to say to everybody. Stop putting that stuff on men to be that guy, stop saying that a guy has to be all of these different things because it’s not healthy.

What you then have is basically–you start a film about action movies and about action, and about those tropes within an action movie, but then it actually starts questioning what the idea of masculinity behind all of that is. I just loved the irony of that and that importance of that too, because it does make it so relatable.

How does the relationship between Hutch and Becca play into that?

One of the things I said from the beginning was, “Let’s not make Hutch feel intimidated by his wife. Let’s instead underline the fact that he’s the one who’s depressed. He is not threatened by her success. It’s that he feels like he is nobody. He feels that he has no importance. Everybody’s going to be fine if he just freaking wasn’t there, she would be able to continue taking care of the kids and the money and everything else.” It’s this feeling that he has, that he doesn’t matter, and that he’s not important.

And that is such a brilliant way of framing the midlife crisis of this guy, and also the crisis of the relationship where the power balance is out of whack and they can’t reach each other, they can’t figure out how to be a team until they’re forced to become a team.

It’s also rare in the action genre that the relationship is also age appropriate. There’s not this 25-year gap between the husband and wife.

That has always been a pet peeve of mine, even when I was a kid in this business. When I’m watching a movie and I’m seeing a girl who’s 24 playing the mother of four kids. I’m like, “What?” It’s just so dumb. There are so many women out there who get really offended as they watch these kinds of movies. So it’s just also dumb of producers and directors to cast without being age appropriate, because women get mad, they get irritated.

What other little details do you think you contributed or discussed with the director in terms of just making these characters more vivid on the set?

First of all, one of the things that was most important was when we were talking about my character’s success, that it was believable within the context, and that we didn’t make it a takedown of successful women–if it was problematic, it was not her problem, but his problem. I think that also we really talked about making her behavior understandable. There’s a second home invasion where it becomes pretty hard for her to not pose questions, so how do we play that? For me, the most important thing was to come up with a balanced behavior that also posed questions in hindsight as to, well, who is she really, what’s her background story, how is she dealing with all this, and is there something else there?

It’s a little ambiguous how much she knows about Hutch’s past. She’s never overly shocked by anything that Hutch does when the full scope of his character comes out. And that goes back to the idea that you sometimes really don’t know the person you’re married to.

That also goes for the moviegoers, they may not really know who the character of Becca is either. That’s part of what we also had a lot of fun talking about on set–what are the things that you don’t know about her?

What kind of set did Ilya run? Was there an openness for ideas and improvisational type of things?

I think so. I think especially when we were doing scenes that were about the emotional relationship, it was just really about making it come alive and truthful, that it was profound and that was meaningful emotionally, that we didn’t make it a small moment, but a big moment.

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This is the first time you ever worked with Bob.

Yeah. It is, and we never met before.

What is that like when you have to meet and immediately create a relationship between these two characters?

It’s odd, it’s so bizarre and strange. The first day on set when we were doing hair and makeup tests and so on, I was taken to this hangar and there’s box of sand on the floor with a green backdrop and a photographer in front of it. And it’s, “Oh, we’re about to do your family pictures,” and then, “Oh, and this is Bob.” Then you basically sit down and you just immediately move into pictures of our honeymoon and all of these different vacations that we’ve had back in the days when we were happy. I basically just met this man. It’s awkward, but that’s also acting, right? You’re just bringing your own experience and leaning into it as if you know this person.

Did you see the director’s previous film, Hardcore Henry?

I did not see Hardcore Henry, but it was very clear from the beginning that Ilya has this particularly cool way of marrying both music and action and image. So I just felt very comfortable that our producers believed that he was going to bring that same thing to Nobody.

When you look at the way action is done in movies today, on one hand you have the stylized stuff that we see in this movie, and then there’s the way Patty Jenkins shoots the Wonder Woman films, which has this majestic painterly quality. Does this seem like an interesting time for the genre?

I think so. I think that it has just changed so vastly from back in the day with films like Rambo. I think that a lot of these movies used to have a very jingoistic quality to them, and that instead, action has mutated. I think maybe that Taiwan, Korea, Japan, and China brought progress to the genre and really updated it and brought in fantasy elements that were really exciting. Superhero movies have definitely updated those concepts as well. So I do think that action movies continue to evolve. The John Wick trilogy is just such a great example of something that just evolved into this whole world, this John Wick world, which was so cool.

What are your thoughts on Zack Snyder’s Justice League arriving? Did you do any additional shooting for it?

I did my work with Zack on set. I did not have to go back for any reshoots. When Zack was going to start the project back up, he had the courtesy and the kindness to call everybody and ask if we were willing to support him in this. I think every single person immediately just said, “Of course.” I know that we’re all super excited that he’s bringing this vision forward to everybody. And I know that he does not consider this as another Justice League, he considers this a standalone movie in its own right.

Are you signed for Wonder Woman 3?

I know that there’s a storyline that involves the Amazons, that’s really all I can say.

Nobody arrives in theaters on Friday, March 26.

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[recentanimenews]

Anime in America Podcast: Full Episode 6 Transcript

  We may not be able to go to the movies right now, but at least we can live vicariously through anime history in the latest episode of Crunchyroll's Anime in America podcast. Read on for the full episode 6 transcript! 

  The Anime in America series is available on crunchyroll.com, animeinamerica.com, and wherever you listen to podcasts. 

  EPISODE 6: AT THE MOVIES: EVENTUALLY

Guest: Jerry Beck

  Disclaimer: The following program contains language not suitable for all ages. Discretion advised.

  [Lofi music]

  There is one name you HAVE to talk about when it comes to anime. A foundational influence on the entire medium and an enervating force in the animation market. A man without whom we may not even have the anime we know and love today.

  It’s not Tezuka, but good guess.

  When it comes to the world of animation, and honestly most media, all roads lead back to Walt Disney. The man who all the animators in Japan’s growing post-war industry were trying to emulate. Most prominent among them, the legendary manga author and Japanese national treasure Osamu Tezuka who truly lived up to Walt’s legacy both by popularizing the medium of animation and establishing many regrettable business practices still felt in the modern industry. 

  Disney’s beloved animated features were the envy of every studio on both sides of the Pacific and the pursuit of that special magic Walt brought to the silver screen was what kicked off the race to bring Japanese animation to America. So, I guess…we can start there.

  [Lofi music]

  In the ‘50s Toei Animation was basically the only major animation studio in Japan and had the stated intent of becoming “The Disney of the East.” Toei’s first 3 films, Hakujaden, Shonen Sautobi Sasuke, and Saiyuki were all released near the end of that decade and all stuck very closely to the Disney formula, retelling traditional folktales with colorful animation, plenty of cute animals, and, in the case of Saiyuki, musical interludes.

  Back home in the U.S., Disney was deep in a run of blockbuster releases with titles like Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, and, umm [cough] Song of the South. Just about every major studio was trying to figure out how to steal some of that thunder. Metro-Goldwyn Mayer was one such studio who considered Disney their rivals at the box office. If you wanna know how that turned out for MGM, uh, Disney acquired their parent company Fox in March 2019.

  It was never much of a rivalry to begin with. MGM put out a behind the scenes docu series called The MGM Parade aping Disney’s “The Magical World of Disney” series in 1955 and decided to close their animation department in 1957, the heads of which, a Mr. William Hanna and Joseph Barbera, would depart along with most of the staff to form the very successful Hanna-Barbera Productions. 

  So, what do you do when you want to compete with a company like Disney in animated features but don’t want to go to the trouble of producing any animated features? MGM became the first company to license and release a Japanese anime in the United States, premiering Toei’s Shonen Sarutobi Sasuke, retitled Magic Boy, in theaters in July 8th, 1961, winning a close race against Global Pictures and American International by only two months ahead their releases of Toei’s two other films, Hakujaden, retitled Panda and the Magic Serpent, and Saiyuki, retitled Alakhazam the Great.

  They didn’t do too great, which probably explains why between those three movies released in 1961 and Hayao Miyazaki’s debut in American cinemas in 1986, only 3 other anime made it to theaters in the U.S. 

  Not even Tezuka’s magic could break open the box office for anime in the ‘70s. His production company, Mushi Production, had two films, A Thousand and One Nights and Cleopatra: Queen of Sex that were both released early in the decade and flopped. In the case of the latter, Xanadu Productions’s attempt to sell the erotic historical drama as a porno probably didn’t help.

  The rest of the following two decades saw plenty of anime films being released in the West but only for direct to video releases with major Japanese studios leaning hard into this new market. Many U.S. distributors were now exploiting Japanese studios to animate their own cartoons, so many of the same era took on a sort of Western bend. Toei Animation in particular released a number of films during that period that seem pretty focused on replicating that Disney formula even more closely, using Western history and folktales as source material. Some of my favorite examples are The World of Hans Christian Andersen (originally Anderson Monogatari), Les Miserables (originally Jean Valjean Monogatari), 30,000 Miles Under the Sea (yes, miles), Animal Treasure Island, and even Puss n’ Boots (who became Toei’s logo) during the ‘70s.

  [Music from “Toei Logo History” plays]

  In 1986, Hayao Miyazaki finally appeared in the American scene. If you haven’t heard of him… how the fuck not? How is that possible? I don’t, I don’t understand. Often referred to as the Walt Disney of Japan, Miyazaki is the primary creative force of what would become the internationally renowned Studio Ghibli which we’ll get into a bit later. Their first film Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind was created before the studio even had a name, wowing American audiences with its beautiful art and epic story involving environmentalist themes... kind of. Well not really, actually. Manson International and Showmen Inc. got their hands on the movie and cut it up so bad you couldn’t really call it a Miyazaki work anymore. I mean, they didn’t, they changed everything. They changed the title to Warriors of the Wind, [Clip from 1985 commercial for Warriors of the Wind] renaming Nausicaa to “Princess Zandra” and doing their best to make it an action movie while cutting out any of the environmental themes at the core of the narrative by cutting out a whole 22 minutes of the film. Then they drew up a He-Man ass poster with a whole squad of dudes and a pegasus that were not even in the movie.

  [Lofi music]

  Enter Streamline Pictures.

  Co-founded by Jerry Beck and Carl Macek. Each already working to spread the good word of anime, the two were disappointed in early dubs and brought a new philosophy to the localization game with Streamline. 

  Do. Not. Mess. With. It. Don’t do that. For your own good. 

  Beck: We were quite proud of them, because we had a theory on how to do this, which was to use the original music and effects tracks, not cut anything, uh and to do the dubs as accurately and as correctly as we possibly could, with the best actors we could get. Our model was the Warriors of the Wind, meaning we were going to be everything that movie wasn’t. We were going to be the opposite of Warriors of the Wind. 

  That was the man, Jerry Beck himself. The formula was simple, arguably a lot less work than completely changing a movie to shoe-horn it into some western film archetype, the two-man company began visiting Japanese studios… or rather their Los Angeles offices since every major Japanese studio had one of those in the 1980’s, and asking for dubbing and distribution rights.

  Both passionate anime fans, the two had a ton of knowledge of emerging anime titles and an interest in bringing many of them over which larger studios would have passed up for dumb reasons like “profitability.”

  Beck: We literally made a checklist that we got all the films. We wanted Fist of the Northstar, we wanted Wicked City, we wanted Vampire Hunter D, we wanted Castle of Cagliostro, we wanted- you know, we wanted Lensmen, but I’m not sure why, I actually know why at the time, but that’s such an odd film. So, but we ended up getting them all.

  After handling the theatrical screenings of the Mangum Dub of Castle in the Sky, Macek secured a deal with Japanese publisher Tokuma Shoten to dub future titles, including My Neighbor Totoro and Kiki’s Delivery Service. After that they went on a tear, where they were basically the only company in the game theatrically releasing anime from 1985 to 1995, averaging almost 2 movies a year in a period where non-Streamline anime films could be counted on one hand with room to spare. 

  I cannot emphasize enough how much Streamline did for anime in America. They even helped the medium properly break into American television in the early ‘90s alongside Central Park Media by contributing to Syfy’s anime block which aired Dominion Tank Police, Robot Carnival, Project A-Ko, Vampire Hunter D, and another film brought to the U.S. by Streamline which could be considered their greatest achievement.

  Akira. Or AH-ki-ra [first syllable stress], if you’re a purist.

  Beck: Marvel Comics was printing an adaptation of Akira and we knew about the film [Requiem from Akira plays]. And at that point, that was like, of course like ‘88 or so, you know there were already bootleg VHS copies for sale at comic book conventions and stuff. But we looked at it and went “oh my God, this is like state of the art, you know? This is really a big deal for film.” And I don’t even think we had seen it on the big screen or anything, we just knew we wanted it, if it was gettable. And the good news was that the Akira Committee was kinda desperately wanted it to be shown in America, and they had gone to Paramount, Universal, Fox, everywhere, trying to get somebody to pick up Akira, and nobody would because it was too violent. The idea of that kind of thing being shown in America was, you know, unthinkable. So we were like “we’ll do it!” 

  Akira was a cultural and technological achievement in animation. It set a new record number of colors used in an animated feature at 327, 50 of which were unique colors created specifically for the movie. You could fill a mega size box of Crayons with colors that only exist thanks to Akira, which is insane. The film consisted of 160,000 frames, clocking in at almost 3 times the average for an animated feature of that same length. It was also the most expensive anime film ever produced at the time with a budget of 1.1 billion Japanese Yen. As Jerry said, it was also intensely violent, considered graphic in Japan and especially in America which still considered animation almost wholly a realm of children’s entertainment. The Akira Committee was desperate to get it in American theaters. And obviously, there were difficulties. 

  After being collectively shot down by Hollywood, the Akira Committee was approached by the small and unproven Streamline with a unique offer: if the Akira Committee could put up the cost to dub and distribute, Streamline would give them 100% of the profits up to a cap before beginning to collect their own percentage.

  And it was not easy. Jerry had to negotiate for months with an agent from the committee who basically watched their operation at work to make sure they knew what they were doing. Then Streamline was given an opportunity to prove themselves by hosting a screening of the film in the Spreckles theater at ComicCon. Only once they pulled that off did the committee ink the deal, but with one demand. They were adamant about getting a quality dub and wanted someone who had, at the very least, been nominated for an Academy Award to manage it. At the very least. Carl Macek had one of his associates search around and eventually they landed on Sheldon Renan, who had previously received recognition from the Motion Pictures Association of America for a documentary short just to fit the bill. 

  [Akira versus Kaneda, english dub clip]

  And it was a hit. Screenings pulled in profits on par with or even exceeding critically acclaimed live action foreign films. Streamline established their reputation in the industry on the success of Akira, and the next step was home video, which turned into another battle for Streamline as one of the principles of the committee, Kodansha, was intent on selling out the rights to a large distributor based on Akira’s success in theaters. Still they were turned down and once again, despite not even being a home video distributor, Streamline made an offer.

  Beck: We said to them, you know, we’re gonna get you the reviews, you’re going to get reviews in every town. We got Siskel and Ebert, they reviewed it; we got it on Entertainment Tonight, we got it everywhere. And so we were doing all this stuff, the idea though, the goal, was to get all this coverage and then they would go, they would instead of going to movie studios they would go to the home video people and try to convince them to put it out on home video. No home video distributor wanted it. Nobody. Because there was nowhere, we found out later, there was no place in a video store, then, for them to put it. They couldn’t put it in the kids’ cartoon section, the idea of putting it in science fiction, I don’t know why that didn’t work, that should’ve worked, but they probably had Heavy Metal there, but they for some reason that was not a thing that- they didn’t, there was nowhere to put what we call “anime” in a video store at that time. They did say to us “you gotta have a bunch of them. Five, six, seven, and we’ll create a shelf, we’ll put a shelf in our stores.” This is what Blockbuster said, this is what Suncoast said. So we ended up, we ended up, what we did was we got the vid- they couldn’t sell the video rights, so WE got the video rights, even though we weren’t a video company! And so we ended up putting out Akira on VHS. We couldn’t sell it in video stores. So we ended up- and there was no Ebay or Amazon, that didn’t exist, so we actually went to comic book stores and obviously it was the perfect thing to do, because Akira was a comic book, it was manga, and Marvel was printing it. And we ended up selling them to comic book stores and we- it worked. It was exclusive to comic book stores, it was the only place you could get it. Oh my God, we sold… thousands. 

  Streamline hung up its hat with the release of Space Adventure Cobra in 1995 but many of their partners who handled the theatrical distribution like Tara Releasing and Fathom Events continued without them. Just as TV anime was headed toward its own watershed moment, the field for anime movies broadened in the second half of the ‘90s. Manga Entertainment brought over Ghost in the Shell with Palm Pictures in 1996. VIZ Media broke into films by capitalizing on Ranma ½’s growing popularity with the release of Ranma ½ the Movie: Big Trouble in Nekonron China alongside CBS theatrical in 1998. 

  And then the big one came. 4Kids partnered with Kids WB and dropped Pokemon: The First Movie in 1999. And to call it a smash hit for anime movies would be an understatement. [Pokemon: The First Movie, trailer 1 plays] I saw it. Because my dad bought the VHS from one of those dudes that sold bootlegs in the Kroger parking lot. The one he hand recorded himself. You remember those? We had ‘em. 

  The movie hit $10.1 million in the box office on its opening day, which was a Wednesday, by the way. Over its opening weekend it would climb to $31 million and eventually cap out at $85 million at the box office which has remained the record anime movie in the United States for 20 years. For a moment in time it even claimed the best opening weekend for an animated feature full stop until Toy Story 2 dropped two weeks later. [Pokemon Bumper - 2000] Plastic-faced newscasters began referring to its opening weekend as “Pokeflu,” since so many kids mysteriously called in sick from school the same day.

  “Pokemania Comes to America - 1999, ABC News”: Pokemon is now in full mania! And others may follow suit, when a new Pokemon movie hit theaters this fall, spurring even more… Pokemania.

  "’Pokémania’: 1999 MSNBC Pokémon News Report”: School officials are finding that Pokemon cards are responsible for fist fights and the constant trading is not only distracting kids from classwork, but turning the playground into a black market. 

  And ya know what? Given recent events, Pokeflu sounds very racist. But that’s what they called it. 

  Anime was still a few years off from its Oscar grab and even today hasn’t fully reached acceptance as a respected form of media, but the Pokemon movie proved there was lots and lots of money to be made from anime if you played your cards right. Although it’s difficult to tell if that's what 4Kids and Warner Bros did. Each subsequent Pokemon movie pulled in roughly half what the previous managed. Pokemon: The Movie 2000 scored a total box office of $43 million and Pokemon 3: The Movie grabbed $17 million before the whole thing fell off a cliff. Pokemon 4Ever pulled in only $1.7 million and Pokemon Heroes didn’t even crack $1 million. Mind you, this still gives Pokemon the 1st, 2nd, 6th, and 19th highest box offices of anime films in the U.S., so, you know, what do I know?

  Pokemon’s explosive success at the box office inspired other attempts to grab some of that Disney demographic. Fox was the first to jump after the 1999 success of the first Pokemon movie with Digimon: The Movie which I’m definitely gonna talk about in a little bit. 4Kids itself also tried to recapture that Pokemon magic as the franchise was showing diminishing returns with Yu-Gi-Oh! The Movie: Pyramid of Light.

  Unfortunately the Pokemon movies were also a return to form for crazed American producers with scissors. 4Kids onigiri erasure in Pokemon TV series is notorious on its own, but its former president Norman Grossfeld also feared the Pokemon: The Movie movie would do poorly as written. Casting Mewtwo as a sympathetic antagonist confused and angered the profit-minded execs who produced content for children despite probably never having children of their own. They cut out the prologue describing Mewtwo’s past as the victim of genetic experiments and made edits to portray him as a generic villain and Mew as… like some kinda savior, messiah-type thing?

  [Lofi music]

  Fox, in its desperation to compete with the success of Warner Brothers’s Pokemon looked to Digimon, spawning the creation of the cinematic chimera Digimon: The Movie. You see, there wasn’t actually a movie called Digimon: The Movie in Japan, but several short Digimon films titled Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure:... um… Children’s War Game?, and Digimon Adventure 02: Digimon Hurricane Landing!!.

  The first two had been directed by the acclaimed Mamoru Hosoda and the last by Shigeyasu Yamauchi. I really want to emphasize these were three different movies utilizing different art styles and creative processes with the last one even focusing on an almost entirely different cast of characters. So, like Harmony Gold before them, they took a knife to all three features, leaving more than 40 minutes on the cutting room floor to create a bizarrely paced, three-arc, Digimon feature before slapping on a mostly ska soundtrack and Angela Anaconda short in the beginning [Angela Anaconda part of the Digimon Movie]. The movie premiered in 2000 and was panned by critics but walked away with a $9.6 million box office, making it the 9th most successful anime film in the States, so I’m sure the producers cried all the way to the bank while the rest uh… learned that evil pays.

  Yu-Gi-Oh! The Movie: Pyramid of Light came later in 2004 and might be an even more bizarre feature than Digimon, since 4Kids produced the movie rather than just chopping it up after the fact. In fact, it might be the first anime film to be screened in the United States before Japan, releasing in August while Japan didn’t get the theatrical release until November. Somehow the Japanese version was still a full 14 minutes longer than the U.S. release. It’s not really clear whether Studio Gallop made the film whole cloth and 4Kids cut it down, as was their usual practice, or if they added some extra content after the fact that 4Kids didn’t want for the American audience. I guess we’ll never know.

  Since it was produced for the U.S., we did get the bonus of having all the cards appear like the actual game complete with english text, even if it sometimes appeared upside-down. Pyramid of Light also had ska music unfortunately. Umm… the 2000s was a, it was a big time for ska. Once again the movie was panned, finding a place in Rotten Tomatoes’s 100 worst reviewed films of the 2000s, but became the 4th most successful anime film in the U.S. ever, with a $19.8 million box office.

  But that is enough about box office for now. Now we can talk about home video releases.

  [Lofi music]

  If you’ve ever tried to catch an anime film in theaters, you’ve probably noticed that even today they usually have extremely limited showings. At Streamline’s peak, they weren’t the only company localizing anime films, they were just the only ones making a push to put them in theaters. Other publishers were going for the straight to video route, but there was one serious hang-up. Blockbuster just didn’t give a shit. 

  Streamline’s own Akira release had limited theatrical showings, meaning they were leaning heavily into home video and the movie really beat the odds, finding success in the two markets mom and pop video stores and comic shops. Bootleg fansubs of Akira had been in circulation for months before the film’s official release, so Streamline sweetened the deal by including actual original animation cels with the VHS which seems less an intelligent marketing gimmick and more of a giveaway of cultural artifacts in retrospect. Those people are probably very wealthy, now. It was probably also unnecessary. Akira’s home video success was a moment in anime history in many ways, but it was also an exception. 

  The direct to video market would never find the same success in comic shops that Akira had. You could find anime in privately owned video stories but even then they were being crowded out by mainstream outlets like Blockbuster who were much less interested in putting anime on their shelves, especially of the famously violent variety like Akira. For anime to get its foot in the door, it would need a new face that was not only child friendly but also insanely popular. I know I just talked about Pokemon’s breakout success, but its home video wouldn’t hit the shelves until 2000. Instead, the man who would help open Blockbusters’s blue and gold doors for other anime in the late ‘90s was one of its creators who most famously hates home video. Hayao Miyazaki.

  Miyazaki was already making the rounds in the U.S. via World Pictures and Streamline dubs of a few of his films which was probably fine by him, as he seems to resent the idea of people  watching his movies in any setting other than a theater, but Ghibli producer Toshio Suzuki had his sights set on dominating the animation industry and Disney just happened to be in the market for international films. Former Head of Disney Home Video International Division and current CEO of Herbalife Nutrition Michael O Johnson inked a deal with Ghibli in 1996 granting global distribution rights to their entire library of films. 

  This was thanks in large part to the effort of Disney’s Steve Alpert who went so far as to film a mini-documentary in Disney studios to basically show Eisner and his fellow suits that every single person they employed to draw moving pictures was already a diehard fan of Miyazaki’s work. Alpert himself would jump ship to Ghibli to work alongside Suzuki battling his former employer at every turn to make sure they kept their promise about not cutting Ghibli films.

  Probably expecting Ghibli’s next film to be another Totoro or Kiki, Disney was shocked to see limbs flying off people's bodies in Princess Mononoke and pushed the distribution under their Miramax label to distance themselves from its morally objectionable content, which I can only assume came from a place of deep ignorance of both their own company’s history and the work of their HR department. Also the notion that um… just producing the same thing under a different wing of your company makes you any less morally objectionable… is also morally objectionable. 

  Unfortunately the Harvey Weinstein-lead Miramax was dead set on changing everything about Mononoke that it possibly could. And with Ghibli holding onto an iron-clad contract giving them final say, this transformed into all-out warfare with Miramax trying to weasel in every change they could and Alpert flying over the Pacific to nip that shit in the bud, only ending after Weinstein himself was twice humiliated in public. And to that I say: Good. First in a now iconic story wherein Suzuki presents him with a unsharpened prop sword at a meeting full of Disney and Miramax suits while shouting “Mononoke-hime NO CUT,” and then when Miyazaki and crew left in the middle of their own post-premiere party to carefully consider the suggestion Weinstein had been shouting at Alpert to chop 40 minutes off the movies runtime or they’d “never work in this town again.” And then several years later, the entire entertainment industry said “no, YOU’LL never work in this town again!” 

  Although Streamline had been following our modern era’s best practice of not messing with the source material for about a decade, Ghibli’s “no cuts” policy was one of the first pushes in that direction to come from Japan and doubtless helped to normalize the practice… eventually. As I said before, 4Kids and Fox raked in millions spinning out heavily edited films but Buena Vista bending the knee to Ghibli’s demands, the lasting cultural impact of Ghibli movies, and an increasingly saturated market of TV anime untouched by an editor’s razor eventually pushed the industry in the right direction. After all, no edited anime movies ever have been nominated for Oscars, but more on that later.

  Despite being a global hit, Princess Mononoke didn’t really take off in the way Disney had hoped, only pulling in $2.3 million in its first eight weeks. But it recovered in… that’s right, home video releases! Boom. Got ‘em. They also started churning out actual VHS releases for other Ghibli titles like Kiki’s Delivery Service and My Neighbor Totoro and then, when Streamline’s rights expired, Disney produced their own lavish dubs for DVD re-releases featuring a star-studded cast with voices like Dakota Fanning, Kirsten Dunst, Patrick Stewart, and uh, Shia LeBeouf. What?! Blockbuster was finally persuaded to start moving in anime content when Disney’s Buena Vista came knocking and the doors were officially open for more anime content.

  Ghibli was way ahead of its time in many ways and rights management was no exception. Or at least Miyazaki’s insistence on the purity of a theater-only movie-viewing experience had some unintended benefits. A mere two years before 4Kids would pull off the heist of the century screwing Shogakukan and Nintendo out of millions in profits in their deal of the explosively popular Pokemon franchise, Ghibli would deny Disney digital rights to their works in their contract. Disney was fine with that, the prevailing belief among executives being that those rights were basically useless. Ha-ha! Imagine that.

  Disney wasn’t interested in digital and if Disney, the most powerful media rights holder in the world, wasn’t going to push into that new sphere of distribution, then it was doomed to failure. Which, looking at the titanic size of Netflix who recently acquired streaming rights to the Ghibli Films worldwide minus Japan and the U.S. and is now staring down the barrel of Disney’s own competing streaming service Disney+ and Warner’s HBO Max, is kinda funny in retrospect.

  [Lofi music]

  Buena Vista might’ve helped Ghibli in another way though. Let's talk about when anime won an Oscar. No one’s quite sure how it happened, really. Not that Spirited Away didn’t deserve it. It definitely did. It’s a good movie. It’s just, uh, this was the first and only of Miyazaki’s works to have even been nominated. Ever. In fact, no anime films before Spirited Away in 2003 received a nomination for best animated film in the Academy Awards, and only The Tale of Princess Kaguya has been nominated since. Maybe the stars aligned, maybe it’s because Spirited Away’s stiffest competition in the 75th Academy Awards was Lilo & Stitch and Ice Age [Spirited Away Wins Animated Feature: 2003 Oscars], maybe it's because Spirited Away carried extra credibility by being released in the U.S. under the auspices of Disney. Whatever the cause, anime, via Ghibli, had grabbed a piece of critical acclaim in the American entertainment industry that seemed otherwise determined to ignore it.

  Not that Hollywood hadn’t noticed anime long ago. Two of America’s most celebrated directors, Christopher Nolan and Darren Aronofsky, have both committed what can charitably be described as borrowing from a certain Japanese director by the name of Satoshi Kon to build their respective, uh repertoires. Aranofsky heavily borrowed story, themes, and imagery from Kon’s Perfect Blue in his film Black Swan and even recreated the bath scene from Perfect Blue in his Requiem for a Dream. Guess which two of those three movies were nominated for Oscars? Nolan’s Inception collected four Oscars in 2010 which contained several scenes that anime fans got a sneak preview of 3 years before in the limited screening of Kon’s 2007 Paprika. And also in that one uh, Donald Duck comic strip. 

  Uh, look, I’m not trying to roast anybody or anything like that. Maybe Aronofsky. But you just can’t talk about Spirited Away grabbing an Oscar without giving mention to not just anime films, but foreign films in general which Hollywood seems to find value in but only when filtered through one of its own creators. So what does this get us? It gets us Scarlett Johansenn playing a woman named Motoko Kusanagi and an Oldboy remake that completely misses the point. 

  Trust me when I say the only good adaptations by Hollywood are Doug Liman’s Edge of Tomorrow and the Wachowski sisters’s Speed Racer. You heard it here. If you want a new Ghost in the Shell movie just open your wallet, call Mamoru Oshii, and ask him to make another one. Stop with this weird shit. 

  Although many films were in uncertain licensing situations until GKIDs started recollecting them, the works of visionary directors like Mamoru Hosoda, Satoshi Kon, and Isao Takahata have managed to find their way to American theaters over the years without edits and a minimal delay that recently has been reduced down to less than a year. Not quite simulcasting, but given none of them have had a real breakout hit, it’s long strides to think that fans have had consistent opportunities to watch their movies in theaters over the years and purchase them in home video.

  [Lofi music.]

  Since Miyazaki’s most recent retirement, Ghibli underwent a sort of identity crisis on what to make of their studio or even if they would continue making films at all. During this period many of their creators left to join other studios, some of them even forming their own Studio Ponoc itself dedicated to continuing Ghibli’s traditions of movie making. Ghibli itself was just kinda there until very recently, when the aforementioned GKIDs secured the rights to Ghibli within the U.S. and entered into a deal to stream the entire Ghibli library on HBO Max. Ghibli also recently announced that it's nearing the release of TWO new films, Miyazaki’s own How Do You Live? and the studio’s first entirely CG feature film Earwig and the Witch, by Miyazaki’s son, Goro. 

  And I know what you’re thinking. I thought the same thing until I saw the images and I will just say I’m definitely gonna go see it.

  And y’know what? That’s great for Disney, but Ghibli’s downtime created an existential dread within the anime industry and fandom, because there wasn’t any other big name director to replace Miyazaki in the collective consciousness of America as “THE anime director,” or as Mother’s Basement on YouTube would say “the new Miyazaki,” until only recently...

  Makoto Shinkai has been directing anime movies, arguably the SAME anime movie, since 1998 and has been a well known quantity in the fandom since his 2002 film Voices of a Distant Star. But something changed in 2016. His movies are almost always about young people in love separated by time, space, circumstance, or supernatural circumstance, but each iteration has refined his technique until one finally reached critical mass. Your Name became the most successful Japanese film of any kind in multiple countries, including China, and Japan’s second most successful anime film domestically behind Spirited Away. Didn’t even crack the top 10 in the U.S., though.

  And no Oscar.

  That said, Your Name was a resounding success in the United States, now surpassed by Shinkai’s newest film Weathering with You last year. Each pulling in $5 million in the box office is no small feat for anime films. Appearing more frequently in mainstream outlets may be slowly growing Shinkai into a household name which, matched with his own formula for successful films, could be the beginning of another single director legacy that will pull the industry up with it.

  Now although we’ve seen less explosive releases since the children-focused anime movies around the turn of the millenia, it’s hard to describe our past decade of the 2010s as anything but a stateside renaissance for anime film. While the collective box office brought in by anime in the U.S. during the 2000s completely dwarfs that of the ‘90s, there weren’t all that many more films making it over. The real difference in the marketing and theater availability after Pokemon provided a proof of concept. Although there’s been roughly 50% more anime films coming out per year in Japan in the 2010s than the 2000s, the yearly average with theatrical releases in the states more than doubled between the decades.

  And while TV anime are slowly being consolidated into a few select streaming services, more distribution companies have entered the industry to put anime films in theaters. Nowadays GKIDs, Fathom Events, and Eleven Arts have an almost monthly churn of screenings that actually top the daily box offices… on their Wednesday showings. Wednesday. Still, given the movies are airing in limited theaters and showings, the numbers are very good. Just last year Dragon Ball Super: Broly had the 3rd most successful box office for an anime film in the U.S. at $30 million.

  Sounds like we’re in a pretty good place. Well, it’s all- I mean, it’s all relative. We have doubled the number of movies we license every year since last decade, but American theater-goers still only get the opportunity to watch maybe half of the anime films that come out every year in Japan. Meanwhile, there are an average of over 200 TV anime produced every year and, with rare exceptions, every single one is licensed and distributed in the United States across a number of streaming services. Next up, we’re going to talk about anime on TV and how it's grown into one of the largest, fastest, and most sophisticated localization industries in the world.

  Bye!

  [Lofi music]

  Thank you for listening to Anime in America, presented by Crunchyroll. If you enjoyed this, please go to Crunchyroll.com/animeinamerica to start your 14-day free trial or just log on for some free, ad-supported anime. 

  Special thanks to Jerry Beck. You can find more of Jerry’s work over on cartoonresearch.com along with the history of Streamline Pictures written by Fred Patten, one of the co-founders. 

  This episode is hosted by me, Yedoye Travis, and you can find me on Instagram at ProfessorDoye or Twitter @YedoyeOT. This episode is researched and written by Peter Fobian, edited by Chris Lightbody, and produced by me, Braith Miller, Peter Fobian and Jesse Gouldsbury. 

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com