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thetomorrowshow · 3 years ago

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unless you take your army back, ch. 6

First - Previous - Read on AO3!

college life go brrrrrrrr

cw: description of injuries, ptsd flashbacks, paranoia

Three more days, Katherine had told him. Three more days of resting with intermittent periods of stretching, then walking the length of the room. The first few times, the room expanded out endlessly before him. Even with Jack to steady him, it was a challenge that sent him straight to sleep afterwards, vision hazy from the exercise and lack of food. By the second day, though, it became easier and easier, until he could slowly make it from the bed to the door barely out of breath. Jack wasn’t exactly pleased with his progress, but Crutchie refused to stay at home a day longer. So, when the bell rang on the fourth morning, Crutchie roused himself with everyone else and slipped his vest on, excited to finally be back among his brothers.

The plan was fairly simple to follow. Jack and Tommy Boy would walk him to get a cup of coffee from the nuns, then they would loiter there and rest for a good fifteen minutes, until Davey and Les turned up with some papers for them to sell. Tommy Boy would go his own way, and the four of them would make the walk to Crutchie’s normal selling spot (“It’s a bit of a walk, Crutch.” “No. This is non-negotiable, Jack. I’m sellin’. At my spot.”), where Jack and Les would break off down the street and Davey would stick with Crutchie.

It seemed simple, at least. In practice?

It was still simple. Easy, even. There was no screwing this up. Which was why, after an exhausting hike, Crutchie found himself at his normal corner, ten papers in his bag and Davey shouting a headline.

The wind was strong today, strong enough that Crutchie’s hat nearly blew off and some dirt got kicked up into his face almost as soon as he stopped on the corner he usually sold at. Crutchie himself would’ve been blown over if he hadn’t been leaning against a wall, still trying to catch his breath from the walk. It was nicer than the scorching heat of earlier in the week, though. At least with the wind he wasn’t sweating through his bandages.

Crutchie limped forward to join Davey closer to the street, digging through his bag to pull out a pape. There wasn’t much of a way to wave it around, not with one arm holding onto his crutch and the other in a sling, but he could at least hold on to it to make for an easier transaction.

“Paper!” he called. “Paper! Man gets--uh, murder! Just last night, murder of . . . a child! You heard it here!”

Davey threw him a disbelieving look. “That isn’t what it says at all.”

Crutchie shrugged. “I didn’t read it.”

Davey sighed, showed him the headline. Something about the governor giving a speech. Boring. “Is there anythin’ better in there?” Crutchie asked hopefully. Davey nodded, flipping open the paper to an article about a fire at the carnival the night before. That was useful.

“Three children, stranded on the ferris wheel for hours!” Crutchie shouted, not bothering to read the rest of the article. Davey burst out laughing, but made a call of his own.

“Fairgrounds on fire, parents abandoning their own children to escape! Read the story here!”

Soon enough, Davey had a customer, then Crutchie did as well. An older gentleman, one who looked at him as if he was diseased. Crutchie tried to smile, but couldn’t make his mouth muscles work. Right, his face was still quite the sight. Not to mention the way he leaned heavily on his crutch, or his immobilized right arm. Still, the man dropped a penny in his left hand (briefly removed from the handle of his crutch) and yanked the paper away from him before hurrying off. Crutchie tucked the coin into his pocket. Only nine more to sell.

Why did nine papers weigh his bag down so much?

Next was the woman he’d seen Buttons selling to the previous week, and she greeted Crutchie with enthusiasm, going so far as to hug him (Crutchie gripped his crutch as tightly as his bruised fingers would allow to keep from making a noise). When she pulled back, her smile froze, truly taking him in.

“Why, Crutchie! Was this all from that children’s strike?” she asked, clearly shocked.

Crutchie didn’t know quite what to say. The hug had startled him, jostled his healing ribs, and he couldn’t quite get words to form. “Uh, no, Miss,” he stuttered, offering a paper. “Got unjustly arrested an’ the like.”

She gasped, leaning closer instead of taking it from him. “Did the police--?”

“Not exactly, ma’am,” Crutchie said. He stepped back to put a little distance between them. “But I’s all right now, it’s good ta see ya again--”

“It was that Snyder, with his children’s jail, wasn’t it?” she asked, and Crutchie’s heart skipped a beat. Mentioning Snyder was not good, not at all, never. In fact, the hairs on the back of Crutchie’s neck rose as he realized--Snyder could be on this very street, he could be anywhere--Crutchie looked around, searching for that bowler hat, those hands always ready to grab--

“Whatever happened, it is so good to see you again, Crutchie,” the lady was saying. She handed him a coin and gently pried the paper from his grip. Crutchie managed to nod at her, still checking everyone on the street. He was here, somewhere, he could feel it. Snyder was one of these people, hurrying by on their way to work or wherever they were headed, and he would spot him if he moved and drag him back there--

“Crutchie? You doing all right?”

Crutchie ignored David, doing his best to examine everyone while also not moving at all. His legs ached, but his back was screaming to not lean against the wall again. Knowing that Snyder was near seemed to be aggravating it, the memories of being whipped so near to his mind.

“Crutchie, if you pass out, Jack is going to kill me.”

“I’m fine,” Crutchie forced himself to say. It came out as a hoarse whisper, almost silent. He cleared his throat and turned to Davey, who was watching him with a considerable amount of concern. “I’m good,” he said louder, every nerve of his body jangling in alarm. He ignored it. “Jus’ . . . got distracted. Is all.”

Davey nodded slowly, brows furrowed. “If you say so,” he said. “But if somethin’ happens, I’m telling Jack it was your fault.”

Crutchie forced himself to laugh, knowing he wasn’t even smiling. Luckily, Davey seemed satisfied and went back to his business. Crutchie looked down to slip the coin into his pocket--a quarter?

A whole quarter?

He stared at it, mouth falling open slightly. The most he’d ever gotten for one pape, on the best day, was a dime.

“Dave--” but Davey was busy, interacting with a customer. Crutchie swallowed, then dropped the quarter in his pocket. It added a strange weight, clearly separate from the penny already there. Even at his most pitiful, he’d never gotten a quarter for a single pape!

He must look pretty bad, then.

Crutchie sold four more papers, three of them to regulars who sought him out. Each of those three gave him more than the penny price, leaving Crutchie almost wishing that he had bargained with Jack for more than ten papes. He was making bank today.

After the eighth paper was sold for a nickel, though, Crutchie realized he wasn’t going to be standing for much longer. His body pulsed painfully with each pump of his heart, he was emotionally exhausted from his constant scans for Snyder--he knew he was here, somewhere, just out of sight, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce--and although it hurt his pride something awful, he knew it was time to tell Davey he needed to go. If he could stay, he would, but Jack would tie him down to his bed to keep him from going out tomorrow if he worked himself too hard today. He couldn’t risk it.

Crutchie waited patiently as Davey finished up a sale, then nudged his shoulder. All it took was one glance at Crutchie’s face for Davey to nod.

“You need to get back in bed,” he said, before Crutchie could even say anything. “Let me go tell Jack we’re heading back. Sit down, okay?”

Davey helped Crutchie lower himself to the curb, then looked around for a few seconds before heading off in a random direction. Crutchie tried not to freak out too much--not having Davey here didn’t make him much of an easier target, right?

It did, actually. So did sitting down. Not selling did as well, made him less noticeable to everyone around. He couldn’t--he was going to vanish, just like so many others, just like Albert that one time, but unlike Albert he couldn’t run away. If Snyder dragged him away right now, he wasn’t even sure that he’d be able to scream for help.

“You sellin’ today’s paper, boy?” A rough voice from above asked.

Crutchie looked up (how long had he been staring at his shoes?) to see a construction worker, holding out a penny. Crutchie nodded wordlessly, struggled with his bag for a few long moments, finally extracted a newspaper to hand to the man. The man coughed into the paper, dropped the penny into Crutchie’s open hand, then hauled off.

Crutchie vaguely hoped he didn’t get sick. He always seemed so much more likely to pick up any illness on the street than the other boys--something to do with his bad leg, probably. In his current weakened state, a bad cold might be enough to push him over the edge.

He still had one paper left--right? He could sell it while Davey was gone. No, wait, he had to save one for Mr. Myers, at the bakery. And one for Dr. Ellis, over at his office a few blocks away. He only had one, though--how was he supposed to get one for both of them? He couldn’t choose between them, they were both his loyal customers and now that he was out here he had to sell to them or else they might think he was ignoring them. What should he do? What could he do?

Crutchie glimpsed a bowler hat before it passed into an alley, bobbing out of view. He froze, even stopped breathing. If he didn’t move, maybe Snyder wouldn’t notice him. He wanted that, right? But maybe if he made a sound, maybe if he was noticeable enough, Snyder would open the door to the closet and let him see some light again, maybe even give him some water if he was feeling kind, maybe even let him out.

But was the risk of being stomped into the floor worth it? That was more likely to happen, what happened any time he got too loud. Sure, it broke up the monotony, gave him a point to focus on, but every attack brought him closer to the end. Was that what he wanted?

Was it?

It didn’t matter right now. Instinct kicked in and Crutchie huddled in closer around himself, protecting the most vulnerable parts of his body. He could stay safe if he was quiet and small, that had always worked. Back when he’d been a beggar on the streets, he’d avoided the bulls by making himself as unnoticeable as possible, tucked into the corner of an alley, mixed in the middle of a crowd of tall folk. It was a tactic that had always worked, it had to be of some use here.

Crutchie didn’t know how long he sat on the curb, head tucked into his knees and arms wrapped around himself. All he knew is that the world grew muted, the sound becoming as empty as the darkness of his closed eyes. His heart seemed to pound in his throat, blocking it and effectively silencing him. There was nothing but himself, his heartbeat, and Snyder--lurking nearby, waiting for him to make the first move and condemn himself.

He was crying, Crutchie realized distantly--only because his nose had begun to block up. He couldn’t open his mouth, couldn’t risk the sound--but he couldn’t breathe, not with his nose blocked, but he couldn’t open his mouth--

A hand--no, no, no--landed on his shoulder, fingers burning into him with a vicious pain, and Crutchie rolled away as well as he could--head knocking into something hard, bad arm and leg twinging as they got caught under his weight--knowing he was in trouble. He was in trouble for not breathing, for trying to escape, for existing--

Blood thrummed in his ears, growing louder and louder and louder as Crutchie coughed, choking on dust, and hands grabbed him again--so rough, just to drag him back to face more abuse--and yanked him by the back of his shirt, his legs kicking out desperately.

They let him go almost immediately, though, and Crutchie cringed, waiting--waiting . . . waiting for nothing? He drew in a shallow breath, ribs aching slightly, and forced his eyes open.

For a moment, the dim figure of one of Snyder’s thugs stood above him, rubbing his hands together, but Crutchie flinched and there was Jack, his face starkly pale, eyes rimmed with red.

“What was you thinkin’?” Jack yelled, breaking the muffled silence. Crutchie’s hand came up involuntarily to cover his ears--Jack speaking was like a dam bursting, and the cacophony of noise from his environment caught up all at once. “Rollin’ out into the road like that, ya nearly got yourself killed!”

Crutchie stared up at Jack, confused. He didn’t really . . . know where he was. Somewhere loud, unbearably loud, but unknown. As he came to that fact, Crutchie’s breath caught in his throat. Why didn’t he know where he was? He sniffled, trying to not cry even more. He didn’t know where he was and he was sure Snyder was nearby and Jack was mad at him, all of which was wrong in every sort of way. What was happening?

Crutchie noticed Davey behind Jack, holding Les’s hand and looking more scared than Crutchie had ever seen him. Why was he scared? Was Snyder behind him?

He glanced over his shoulder, heart racing, eyes scanning compulsively for a sign of the man. Nothing. Maybe--no, nothing. Well, not nothing, but no him. There were plenty of people, which explained why it was so loud.

“It’s okay, Crutch,” Jack said, and Crutchie looked back up at him. He seemed sad, now, less angry. “Sorry I yelled. But you gotta stay outta the road, okay? You was almost ran over.”

A tear slipped out of the corner of Crutchie’s eye, despite his best efforts to hold it back. He didn’t know what Jack was talking about. None of this made sense and he just wanted to go home. When could he go home?

“Can I touch ya, ta help you up?” Jack asked, crouching down. Crutchie nodded, wiping his eyes on his sling. Even with the warning, Crutchie shuddered when Jack reached under his arms to help him stand. Les handed him his crutch--why did Les have it?--and then he was stumbling off, Jack at his side.

Crutchie was shaking so much that he could barely stay upright, not helped by the fact that Jack had a hand on his back. All it did was put him on edge, anticipating a push to the ground. He knew Jack would never, but he couldn’t help but believe it would happen.

He wasn’t quite sure where they were going, but he hoped it was home. Everything was so loud and unfamiliar and overwhelming right now, and he just wanted to go to sleep.

“Ain��t all here, are ya?” Jack huffed. Crutchie nodded, then shook his head, confused as to what Jack was asking. Yes, he wasn’t exactly present; or no, he wasn’t exactly present? He didn’t know which answer made more sense.

They were moving slowly--Crutchie’s bad leg was seizing, his right wobbly. His back and ribs burned with every movement, leaving him gasping for breath in a matter of minutes. Something that was digging uncomfortably into his right shoulder slipped and fell, his belated efforts to catch it inhibited by the sling pressing his arm to his chest.

They halted for a moment, Jack picking up the thing--his bag, Crutchie registered--and swinging it over his own shoulder before wrapping his arm around Crutchie’s lower back, supporting him under his arms. Crutchie gasped as adrenaline pumped through his body, but tried to shake it off. This was Jack. Jack wouldn’t hurt him. Knowing that didn’t help clear his head, though, nor did it keep him from trembling.

“It’s okay, you’s okay,” Jack muttered, helping him along the moderately busy sidewalk. “Just keep movin’. We’s goin’ home, okay?”

Crutchie said nothing, just focused on walking. His head really hurt, but he tried to process what had happened. Something about . . . Davey? And selling papes, and . . . he had a decent bit of money, didn’t he? “Jack. . . .”

“Yeah?”

Crutchie bit his lip. “I . . . can afford a bed tonight,” he offered. Jack chuckled tightly.

“Don’t talk about it here, all right?”

What else had happened? Crutchie knew he was missing so much, everything was so cloudy and exhausting and difficult. Something . . . something like. . . .

He caught a whiff of a new scent in the air, one that grew stronger with every step. Bread, freshly baked. It smelled incredible, yet Crutchie felt his stomach turn. It reminded him--

“Jack, Mr. Myers,” he said, looking around until he spotted the bakery, across the street and a few buildings down. “I gotta--I bring him a pape--”

“I’ll get it to ‘im later, all right?” Jack said soothingly. “Don’ worry about it. Right as soon as we got you in bed, I’ll head over.”

Crutchie wanted to do it himself, but he was too tired to argue. Instead, he nodded, and gave more of his weight to Jack.

When they finally reached the lodging house, Crutchie drenched in sweat and panting, Jack not doing much better (in the last leg of the journey, Jack had had to practically carry the boy), Jack let them in and helped Crutchie up the stairs, slowly, laboriously. With care, he laid him in the single bed by the window, where he had spent so many days already.

“I need ya ta sleep now, yeah?” Jack murmured, pulling the curtains closed. Crutchie nodded blearily. It was so warm in here that he couldn’t help but start to nod off already. Maybe everything would make more sense when he woke.

Jack fell into the chair that he usually did as soon as Crutchie’s breathing evened out. It hadn’t been too rough of a day selling, at least for the half hour that he managed before Davey had come to find him. He’d gotten about twenty papes sold, which was surprisingly good for any day. It must have been the cool wind, breaking the heat wave that had been dragging on for days. Now that it wasn’t absolutely sweltering, more people were going places, more people wanted to know what was going on, more people were buying what he was selling.

He needed to get back out there, hawk those headlines, take whatever papes Crutchie didn’t sell and sneak the coins from it into the kid’s pocket later, but he couldn’t make himself leave his side. Jack looked down at Crutchie, the yellowing bruises still marring his young face, and swallowed down a lump in his throat. It was okay, he reminded himself. Crutchie was getting better. Soon the ring of bruises around his neck would fade completely and his ribs would knit themselves back together.

Jack didn’t know much of the extent of Crutchie’s injuries. He knew that both of his legs hurt something awful--his bad leg was expected, but both was . . . unnerving. Distressing. Not being able to walk at all sounded like a nightmare. He knew also that Crutchie had some cracked ribs and fingers along with his broken arm, all of which made Jack grind his teeth angrily. There was something up with his back (whippings, Jack assumed, or maybe Snyder had gotten out that cane) and Jack had seen blood staining the bandage on his chest when his shirt fell open enough, so some sort of cut there as well. But what sent Jack over the edge every time was the sheer amount of bruising on his face and throat.

Sure, the broken nose was tradition, but that had been set well and had almost completely healed by now. Usually Snyder had the guards go a bit easy on the face, though, in case of government inspections. A bloody nose, a bad cut, a couple of bruises--all of those were routine. This painful mural splashed across Crutchie’s face? Entirely out of the ordinary.

There were several identifiable reasons, if one thought about it (which Jack had spent a lot of time doing). The strike, for one--it must've rankled Snyder, to nab only one of the boys responsible, and particularly to miss Jack, even though he had not only been present but leading. And it was also clear that Crutchie was close to Jack, if who he had cried out for had been any sort of evidence. Jack bit his lip as he remembered how near he was, how he could have helped, how he could have been taken in his brother's place. A part of him felt the guilt, the shame that threatened to choke him at the idea of leaving Crutchie there alone. Another part of him, though, felt a sick sense of relief. The combined hate Snyder and Pulitzer held for the union leader would have ended in Jack's death, dragged out and painful, with the strike left in ruins behind him. It couldn't have been him to be taken.

Thinking those thoughts put a bad taste in Jack's mouth. He wasn't any better than any of these boys, deserved the Refuge just as much--and even more--than all of them. Davey would've continued the strike, just as he had when Jack had given up, both times. Katherine had come up with the plan to advertise a childrens' strike. She and Davey, as well as Spot Conlon, would have found a press. Crutchie would've been a decent leader as well, would have kept the boys in line and organized the protesting, while Davey worked things out with Medda to get Roosevelt. The four kids would've made it to Pulitzer's office the same way Jack, Davey, and Conlon had; Crutchie would've made proper deals with the man, Davey and Katherine would've shut down the Refuge, Spot and Crutchie would've called off the strike. And what would happen to Jack, stuck in the Refuge?

Maybe he would've died. Maybe he'd exit as weak as Crutchie had, not even conscious, taking weeks to get back on his feet while life continued around him. Maybe he would walk out, not hurt too badly but skittish and haunted, not fit to lead any longer.

Not that Jack, a two-time traitor, considered himself worthy to lead now.

He needed to tell Crutchie, tell him that he'd scabbed twice. It didn't matter that both times it had been for him, an attempt to protect his brother. Crutchie didn't want that. Jack knew Crutchie like the back of his hand, and the kid would go through all the torture and loneliness and despair again if it guaranteed success for the strike. It was that self-sacrificing quality that made Crutchie so much of a better person. When faced with a threat of possible death, Crutchie would go proudly. Jack would turn tail and run.

"Stupid," Jack muttered, dragging a hand across his face. He didn't know if he was talking about himself or the sleeping boy before him.

Specs knew where Jack was going to be without even looking for him--which worked out, because he didn't have the time to search the streets of Manhattan. A bad fight had been on the verge of breaking out when he’d left Romeo and Albert, and Jack was needed as soon as possible.

As expected, Jack was slumped in his usual chair beside a sleeping Crutchie (Specs made a mental note to ask Davey how selling had gone later). He looked up when Specs entered.

“Hey,” Jack said sleepily. He rubbed his eyes, then sat up straighter. “Whaddya need?”

Instead of answering, Specs nodded toward Crutchie. “He all right?”

Jack shrugged. “He didn’ really know where he was,” he said, affecting a tone of unconcern. “Thought he oughtta get back ta bed.”

Specs had never spent time in the Refuge, but he’d helped plenty of newsies recover from their time there. If Jack was having a bad day, he usually shut himself up on the rooftop until he felt in control enough that he wouldn’t seem weak around the others. Others, like Race, would push themselves to work until they ended up so tired they had waking-dreams that they were back there. Based on how Jack was acting, something like that had likely happened to Crutchie. Poor kid.

“Specs, was you gonna ask me somethin’?”

Right. Urgent need and all that. “Uh, yeah,” Specs said. He adjusted his spectacles as casually as possible. “Queens ain’t all that happy with somethin’, they wanna see you.”

Jack glanced at Crutchie, then back at Specs, biting his lip. Jack was nervous, Specs realized with a bit of a jolt, something that Jack wasn’t very often. Never before the strike had Jack ever shown that sort of weakness. Not to him, at least. Certainly not to most of the other boys. Not until Crutchie had been taken, Romeo smashed into the ground, Specs himself slammed so hard into a fire escape that his poor head was spinning. They’d never taken that bad of a beating, and it had shaken Jack badly--Specs had noticed it right away, when he found him at the theater.

“Can it wait?” asked Jack, once again looking at Crutchie. The boy was sleeping peacefully, but Specs didn’t let his eyes linger on his face for long. The still-fading bruises made him feel sick in his bones.

“Uh, not really?” Specs said cautiously. “They looked about ready to soak Al and Romeo, so it’s a bit needing-you.”

Jack groaned, running a hand along his cheek. There was stubble there, Specs noticed. Not for the first time, he wondered who would take over when Jack aged out. It might even be sooner than expected, given his scabbing tendencies. “Can I send you in my place?”

“They sent me ta get you, so. . . .”

Jack dropped his face into his hands, letting out a long breath. Specs shifted nervously. He really didn’t want to see Jack cry, not again. Not to mention, they really didn’t have time. The fight was definitely picked by a couple of boys from Queens, but they had a pretty fair claim that Romeo had instigated it, and Albert had made it worse by coming to his defense. The Queens boys had agreed to make a truce with Jack, and Jack alone--and even then, they had terms to declare. Because of course they did. Because of course one of the boys who had taken offense to Romeo stepping onto their turf had been the leader of Queens.

Jack mumbled something. Specs leaned closer, waited, then had just made up his mind to ask what he’d said when Jack sat up, staring out the window and into the sky.

“No, he’s so new ta this still, he ain’t gonna know how ta settle this,” Jack said, his voice sounding almost raw.

“They did sp’fically ask for ya,” Specs added helpfully. “They ain’t gonna sort this out with anyone else.”

Jack didn’t answer for a long time, so long that Specs started to wonder if he hadn’t heard. When he did, though, his voice was quiet, trembling. “I--I can’t leave him.”

As if sensing he was being spoken about, Crutchie inhaled sharply in his sleep, then shifted a little. Jack froze, watching him carefully. Crutchie, however, did not wake, just sighed quietly and lay still once again.

Specs hopped from foot to foot, curling his toes in his new (to him) pair of shoes. Every minute spent was another that could be a fight breaking out, a punch being thrown, a newsie being shoved to the ground. He hated fights these days, hated to hear of his friends being in danger. They didn't have the time for Jack's comfort.

"I saw Buttons on my way in, maybe I can ask him ta sell right on the door?" he suggested. Jack continued to stare at Crutchie. Whatever he was thinking about, it didn't show on his face.

"And ya know what, I can prolly find Tommy Boy and ask him ta sell with Buttons, that way you gets some muscle by the door. Sounds good? Ready ta go?"

"I don' want 'im ta wake up alone," Jack whispered pitifully. Specs resisted the urge to groan. Jack had always been protective of all of them, but right now he was acting all soft in the head. Refuge or no, Crutchie could take care of himself, and always had. It was common knowledge that Jack and Crutchie were closer than most of the others, the closeness of Mike and Ike without the rivalry. Other than Race a few times (when he was fresh from the Refuge), Crutchie was the only one to sleep on the rooftop with Jack.

Some of the boys had thought that maybe something was going on between them, Specs included. Race had assured him it was untrue, but there hadn't been much in the way of proof to the contrary. Even now, now that Jack was maybe Katherine's beau, Specs wasn't sure that he and Crutchie hadn't been misbehaving together. Maybe he should ask one of them, something that for whatever reason had never been an option before. Probably not Jack, seeing how he seemed to be falling apart lately. Crutchie might welcome conversation not focusing on his injuries.

"Okay. Show me where they are, get Buttons and Tommy, then get back ta work, yeah?"

Specs snapped out of his thoughts to see Jack standing, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He’d have to find time when Jack wasn’t with Crutchie to talk to him, but right now he needed to help Jack break up a fight.

#newsies #livesies #newsies live #crutchie morris #jack kelly #newsies specs #newsies fanfiction #newsies fanfic #angst #yall how do these chapters just keep getting longer #not me posting fanfic during work study #holy cow i'm so tired #anyway thoughts?#can't wait for crutchie to be like: recently a darkness has begun to grow within me #don't you get tired of being nice???#angry crutchie is the best decision i've made for this fic #one sec let me look at the next chapter #OH HE FLIES OFF THE HANDLE NEXT CHAPTER #YESSSSS #i currently have eleven chapters written and i'm starting to wrap it up #it's following three characters rn and one of their storylines has resolved #the second one will hopefully happen with two more chapters of focus on them #and the third will end the fic hopefully with only two more chapters #so expect like fifteen chapters total?#love making an outline and then lot following it #love you guys

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sd1970x · 4 years ago

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Marinette, work in progress - Chapter 1

Read also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26203645/chapters/63770623

----

“One is not born, but rather becomes, a woman.” Simone de Beauvoir

There is almost nothing about Marin Dupain-cheng's life, an aspiring clothes designer, that makes them happy. Certainly not the bullying they keep getting at school.

Marin doesn't even know her true gender identity yet.

Both of these are about to change. But would that be enough for her to fight the demons within? ----

CW - Homophobia

Pronouns note: in the beginning of the fic, as Marin(ette) is very much closeted, I am purposefully using he/him pronouns as these capture the correct perspective feel. Pronouns will change as soon as she realizes who/what she really is.

---

So, this is my first work after almost two years of not producing any new ones. I am planning to explore mental challenges involving the crossing of the gender barrier, the very same ones I am now fighting after discovering my own gender identity, as I was writing it in a Miraculous Ladybug fic.

This work is planned to be about a dozen chapters and around 30-40k words when complete.

Thanks go to: V- for inspiring this fic and for being the amazing and caring person they are. Wonderful beta feedback and copyediting: Skye, MyKeyboardDidIt

(further thanks will be updated as goes! if you helped with beta/ideas just hit me up and i'll add you!)

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

"Dear, your alarm’s been going off for fifteen minutes! You’re going to be late for your first day of school!”

You say that as if it’s a bad thing. As if I don’t want to be several hours late. Or days.

“Yeah Mom, I’m coming.”

Marin dragged himself out of bed, his form hunched as he made his way to his closet, regarding his clothes with indifference.

I Don’t even like any of them. And I doubt they would solve the real problem here. That I do not like what I see in the mirror.

Myself.

His hand drifted to a random shirt of no particular interest and he casually tossed it over his head. He shuffled over to the bathroom, glancing at himself in the mirror.

Ho-hum. Same old me, isn’t it?

His hair was in its usual mess on top of his head. Foregoing using a brush, he ended up lightly combing through his hair with his fingers until it looked somewhat acceptable.

I guess that’s okay, he thought while shrugging.

As he was brushing his teeth, his eyes strayed to his face. Studying it. Scrutinizing it.

I ought to shave better than this, He thought. His hand reached for the razor, but he stopped short of picking it up.

What even is the point. Either way, trying won’t make any difference.

The image in the mirror appeared to give him a judgemental look, his own blue eyes prying into the inner parts of his soul.

Well, at least these eyes aren’t half as bad. Perhaps they would have been of some use if they had been matched with another person altogether.

He sighed and turned his head away, as if that would be enough to make the thought disappear.

It wasn’t.

The stairway creaked just a bit as he went downstairs to the kitchen where his parents were already toiling about.

“Your need to patch up your shave, my boy,” Tom said. “You want to look good for the ladies, don’t you?”

I’m not into girls, Dad.

Maybe one day I’ll gather the courage to tell you that.

“Well… not really…”

After all, what difference does it make?

“Come now, where’s the spirit? Every girl is different, they can’t all be like Chloe,” Sabine interjected, attempting to be helpful but having just the opposite effect.

“Ugh, Mom, why’d you have to mention her at all?”

Marin frowned as he sat down for breakfast, unable to drive Chloe’s image away from his mind. He took a bite off of his omelette and was struck by the apparent blandness. He set the fork down, sighing quietly to himself.

And there goes my appetite. It’s not the omelette that’s the issue though....

A sip of fresh juice did the trick, the taste too strong to be overridden.

“Cheer up, buddy!” Tom came over. “Take these macarons to school, maybe a tasty start would help lighten up your day!”

“Thanks, Dad, these are awesome.” He said as he picked them up, giving him a half-hearted smile in return.

I appreciate the gesture..., but it feels more like bribing my classmates with these. Guess anything is worth a try at this point.

---

Marin walked into school where everyone was bustling about and chatting with old friends.

Bright banners greeted the students and everything still felt pristine and clean. The corridors even had flower bouquets placed as decorations. Marin took a breath of air, relishing in the floral scent, and proceeded to enter class.

The classroom was freshly painted and even the furniture had been patched with an attention to detail. Marin barely allowed himself a moment of excitement, before despair and weariness took hold again.

It may look different, but looks won’t change anything for people like me. It’ll still be an endless test of mettle against bullying and harassment.

He cautiously went for his seat and observed his classmates.

So there’s Nino, he’s kinda-sorta okay with me. Something I could never say about Kim. Max hasn’t been mean either, but he’s with Kim, so... At least I don’t see her , maybe we’re not in the same—

“What do you think you’re doing?” a loud cry halted his thoughts and confirmed his fears.

Chloe. The nastiest of them all. Here’s to an old-new welcome, a start-over that amounts to absolutely nothing.

“Ugh. Here we go again,” he muttered quietly, hoping Chloe wouldn’t pick it up.

She came over, an accusing look plastered on her face.

“That's my seat.”

“But Chloe, this has always…” he attempted to retort, then quickly backtracked.

“Fine, just… take it. I don’t care.”

“Take it? It’s always been ours.” Sabrina added, bearing the same mocking countenance.

Sabrina helped herself to one of Marin’s macarons uninvited, then made a puking motion.

“Ugh, they are so gross!” she said, even though she was quick to pocket one for her friend as well.

Chloe paid no heed to the macarons as she was already busy teaching Marin the new rules.

“Listen. Adrien's arriving today and the last thing he needs is someone who needs straightening like you giving this class a bad name. Stay away from him, get it?”

Marin tried his best to ignore the obvious insult and focus on the more pressing question.

“Who’s Adrien?”

Both Chloe and Sabrina chuckled, making Marin regret asking.

“Adrien is a famous model. Pretty, rich, glamorous, someone to look up to. Like me. And just like me, he’s everything you’ll never be and everything you’ll never have.” Chloe fawned over her imaginary description as Sabrina took up the task of reprimanding Marin for the question.

“A loser that doesn’t even know who Adrien is, needs to sit as far away from him as possible. You’re enough of an embarrassment to our class as is.”

Marin opened his mouth as if to deny every word, but opted against it.

You’re wrong. One day, I’ll be a famous and successful designer and every single one of you will be sorry for how you treated me. I just have to persist through this. I won’t bite it this time.

He picked up his bag wordlessly and slowly went towards his designated seat.

At least that’s what he planned to do, but the new girl pre-empted him as she grabbed him by the hand and helped him to the seat next to her. Apparently she had overheard the conversation and didn’t plan on letting it slide, at least as far as her expression read as she looked towards one Chloe Bourgeois.

“Hey! Who elected you queen of seats?” She cried out.

“I did. Good luck dethroning me with your pariah friend.” Chloe laughed at her.

It was then that Miss Bustier entered the class, finally putting a timely end to the whole ordeal.

“Has everyone found a seat?” she called.

“Hey. Don’t let her get to you.” The new girl turned towards Marin again.

He nodded.

“If only I could… She makes my life miserable. My only comfort is the thought that I’ll be free once I graduate.”

“I’m Alya, what’s your name?”

“I’m Marin” He replied. “Pleased to meet you.”

“For those of you who don't yet know me,” Miss Bustier called yet again, “I'm Miss Bustier and I'll be your teacher this year.”

At least with the lesson going on, I should be safe from unnecessary trouble.

Marin pulled out his history book, the same one from last year, bearing yet another reminder. "Marin the Gay-boy" scrawled over the cover, courtesy of Kim.

Safe, huh.

“Everything you’ll never be, Everything you’ll never have.”

Like a clean history book.

It was then when the memories came back to life, a flashback from last year.

---

“Who did this?”

Marin looked about, trying to discern any dead giveaways by his classmates. Too many of them seemed to be smiling too mysteriously to be able to get anything out of them.

You need to stand up for yourself! Show them weakness and they’ll hunt you down like prey!

… easier said than done.

He took another good look at his history book. A small red scrawl was now adorning it, not unlike a barb stuck in flesh and equally painful.

“ Marin the Gay-Boy ”.

“Please… tell me who did this.”

Weariness engulfed his voice as it went weak.

I’ll find out who did this! I’ll…

Drip.

Drop.

The book’s hardcover had just won yet another adornment, as Marin’s teardrops started collecting over it.

Marin picked up the book, tucked it by his side and blasted away from class, his legs carrying him as far as he could, a bout of laughter coming from his classmates in his wake.

By the time Nino found him, his tears had mostly dried out.

“I saw it, dude. It was Kim.”

Marin sighed.

“Thanks, Nino. I… there’s nothing I can do about it, now can I?”

Nino nodded.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

---

I may have missed first period and the picking of seats, but I haven’t missed out the first day entirely. I guess luck is somewhat on my side, today.

“Hey there, Adrikins. Here’s your seat, I saved it for you. Right in front of me!”

So, I have that going for me as well!

“Thanks, Chloe, that’s really nice of you!”

As Chloe and her friend Sabrina went to do something else, Adrien found it to be an opportunity to introduce himself to other students around. What caught his attention the most about the nearby student were his orange headphones, seemingly a fixture of his appearance.

“Hey, I’m Adrien, pleased to meet you!” he offered his hand and got answered with a sturdy shake.

“Yo, I’m Nino. So, you’re that guy Chloe mentioned earlier?”

It was at that moment that he caught something happening out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s that all about?” he called towards Chloe and Sabrina, as both were putting gum on one of the seats.

“The brat that sits here needs a reminder of his place in the hierarchy. I'm just commanding a bit of respect, that's all.”

“You think that's really necessary?”

“Ah, you've got a lot to learn about school culture, Adrikins. Watch the master.”

Hardly convinced, Adrien went about trying to remove the gum from that seat, as he heard another male voice.

“Oh. So that’s your method of choice. How original.”

The voice sighed as Chloe and Sabrina laughed.

“Uhhh… I…” Adrien tried to protest, as he turned towards who he presumed was the seat’s owner.

The first thing that struck him about this boy is that he had a good amount of untapped potential. Smooth black hair, bright blue eyes… given proper care, he could look so much nicer, but he was relatively unkempt and his clothes were poorly matched too.

“And to think I imagined this year would be any different. Stupid, stupid, stupid. ” The boy lamented.

“No, no, I was just trying to take this off!” Adrien tried to salvage the situation, but to no avail.

All the while, Chloe and Sabrina continued to laugh.

“I see you’re in cahoots with Chloe. You don’t need to play pretend with me.”

“See?” Chloe said, “Gay-boy here knows his place. As he should.”

Marin just covered the gum with spare tissue paper and sat by Alya.

“There you go. Adrien Agreste, daddy's boy, teen supermodel and Chloe's buddy.” Alya quipped.

“I bet he’s used to not seeing or caring how people beneath his status feel,” Marin muttered.

---

Alya had little interest in the class, but much more interest in her table partner. She quickly learned that Marin wanted to be a famous designer after he graduated. While she wasn’t a professional, the sketches Marin gave her seemed really good. But there was something else to watch for, too. How his face had lit up when he handed her his sketches. For a moment there, he seemed to be another person altogether. His face brightened up as he took at least a hint of pride in his handiwork.

And you should. Not to mention that a smile looks so much better on you than that sad face you had on earlier.

They had a free hour just after class, so Alya was only mildly surprised when Marin caught her hand and pulled her towards somewhere as he ran forward.

“Where are you taking me?” She asked.

“The best place this school has to offer.” he grinned and continued to dash forward.

“I present you… the art club room!” he exclaimed.

It’s as if he’s another person entirely.

Marin waded in, showing Alya all the different areas the art room had to offer.

A wall for street art, mostly cleaned from past works but still bearing color marks of older works. Desks used for writing, pen scratch marks still visible even after having been cleaned for the new year. Drawing stands, also marked by some uncleanable paint blots. Then there was...

“... Here it is. A state of the art sewing machine, My best and only friend in this entire school.” he laughed, but in a moment the smile dropped from his face.

“That… I…”

He sat by, not nearly as happy as before, and pulled a derby hat from the nearby drawer.

“I worked on this last year and haven’t managed to finish it yet.”

Alya picked up the hat and casually caressed the fabric. It felt somewhat sturdy yet comfy.

Marin flicked the machine on and seemed to be mulling his next move. Eventually, he just turned it back off without doing anything.

“We technically shouldn’t be here without a teacher, so let’s go.” His passionless voice took over again.

Alya could see this was nothing but an excuse, but she declined to call it out. Her instincts told her there was no chance on earth Marin wasn’t keen on violating this rule more than once.

“It really is a lovely place.” She tried to brighten up the atmosphere, with mild success.

“And I loved the hat.” She said as she handed it back for Marin to place in the drawer again.

That seemed to work a bit better.

“Wait ‘till it’s complete, then. I’m sure it will suit you well.” Half a smile crept to Marin’s face.

---

Marin bid Alya farewell as he left the classroom and slouched towards the school’s main doors.

He cautiously opened it, only to find rain pouring outside and the sky filled with grey clouds.

A fresh start, huh? The morning’s nice weather is already gone. At least the bleakness isn’t hiding anymore.

He stood by, still sheltered, when he found out another person was standing next to him.

That Adrien guy. And he just noticed me. That’s the last thing I need right now.

“Hey!” Adrien called.

He slowly sidestepped to maintain a safe distance between them and turned his head away, muttering a slight ‘hmph’.

“Hey, listen buddy… I really was trying to remove that gum from your seat.”

Marin turned his head around and looked at Adrien, wide-eyed.

I… I must be dreaming. Did he really just say that?

“S-so… you weren’t…” he tried to piece together his words and found himself unable to do so.

“Of course not. I came here to study, to make friends… I’m not here to harass or insult people, where’s the sense in that?”

He is sincere about it. Somebody that doesn’t see me as the “gay punching bag” everyone else does.

“I didn’t even get your name.”

“It’s… It’s Marin.”

Marin’s heart nearly skipped a beat, one that he was sure Adrien managed to hear even with the rain’s sound muffling it.

And then, there was an inaudible sound he missed.

A cracking sound, as the nearly-impenetrable shell, one that was built layer over layer of self-defence from bullying and mistreatment, sealing off his emotions, gave just a little bit of way.

Adrien let his hand out of the shelter, feeling the raindrops accumulating.

“So, Marin, It’s raining and I’ve got a ride, need an umbrella?”

He nodded ever so slightly and Adrien pulled out a black umbrella. A click and a whoosh and it was now open, handed for him to take.

Marin cautiously reached out for the umbrella Adrien handed him, his hand shaking and trembling.

That’s… so nice… so… so unlike…

No sooner than he had picked it up though, his hand slipped and triggered the activation switch, the umbrella closing shut over him.

Adrien laughed for a brief moment and gave Marin a slight friendly shoulder bump.

“You keep safe, alright buddy?”

“A… al… alr-...”

Marin barely even noticed his bag dropping, hitting the ground with a ‘thud’ and his personal effects rolling about on the wet pavement. His eyes were transfixed as Adrien waved goodbye and proceeded towards his pick up car.

He’s not going to insult me or beat me or humiliate me.

Someone I can trust. Someone I can rely on.

I feel… safe next to him.

Oh, Adrien!

Maybe things were going to be different after all.

---

Unnoticed by them both, there was another figure watching the exchange, clad in a hawaiian t-shirt and accompanied by a green looking creature.

“Are you sure of your choice, master?”

“Yes. He will make a fine Chat Noir…

… and she will make for an unforgettable Ladybug.”

#miraculous #miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #trans marinette #trans-AU #fanfic #ladybug #umbrella scene

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midnight-moonlight-and-mars · 5 years ago

Text

Carbon Monoxide (Requested)

Warnings: Depression, Swearing, Fluff?

Summary: Tak is convinced Y/n is dead. The love his life was killed saving him from an impulsive mistake he made. Between the blame, the drinks, and depression everything was bleak and pointless. Until he arrives a Bancroft party to find what he knew was nothing at all. What really happened?

Requested by: @ravenclawsstolemybunies

A pulse flows through the air in a gushing wave. Tak felt his whole body fall to the gorund and go completely numb as well the rest of the swarming mob of people.

Stack Shocker... FUCK

He looked for Y/n in the now fallen crowd of battered and bruised people. She had been thrown by the blast in the middle of the road. Blood pooled around her body pushed around by the freezing rain.

Tak fights through using every ounce of strength to get himself to her lifeless body, the blurring his vision and making his body numb.

Her heart beat was slow. The noise and chaos that erupted around them disappeared into a static and blurry cloud. His mind went fuzzy with adrenaline and ears ringing from all of the hits to his head.

“Y/N??? Y/N!!!!”

Nothing.

Cold skin... Blood... wound. Cover it... Pressure...

“Y/n please... oh god please...”

....Analyzing Stack.... No signs of activity. Lifeless

Too much... too many... guns... police....Leave....Leave her...now. Go!

~Present Day~

Tak sat in the outside garden at Suntouch waiting on Bancroft to finish whatever the fuck rich people do in their spare time. It was nice and all but he saw past the pretty flowers and statues. He saw everything scum like these people stood for. But, he needed the money if he was going to ever get out of this shit hole.

“Mr. Kovacs! You’re early.” Bancroft made his way through garden alongside his wife, who just seemed to be very interested in Tak anytime he was around.

“I need to speak with your associates or friends. See if they have any grudges against you or your family. I need you to get them all into one place without raising suspicion. Can you do that within the next few days?”

“Of course Mr. Kovacs whatever you need to get this done. I assume you have a plan? Do you plan on someone confessing to you or do you have someone in mind? I will tell you they are snakes with their own secrets and scandals. Turning over these stones will likely cause some fuss. More than the one you’re causing already my friend...”

"It does work in our favor though. Many people seem more interested in attending now that you are honored guest." Bancroft's wife said eyeing him a little too hard for her husband being a foot away.

“If you can get it done leave the rest to me.” Tak waiting for no contest left as quickly as he came. He couldn’t stand to be there, let alone work for them to save his life. Besides, he needed a cigarette and a drink to prepare for whatever the fuck he was about to step into.

When Tak arrived at the Raven Hotel, Poe was quick to spark conversation that he was just not in the mood for. Something about news or the maybe the weather? He didn’t know and he really didn’t care honestly. The headaches were getting worse not to mention the weird hallucinations. Maybe it was the drugs he took yesterday... What was it? LSD maybe?

“Master Kovacs I also think it’s imperative that you...”

“Poe. Seriously? Shut the fuck up my head hurts and I really don’t have time for your questions or whaatever other shit you have to bother me with.”

“Are the headaches getting progressively worse now?” Poe asked worriedly. He knew the cause, but hardly knew what to do anymore, Nothing seemed to remedy these episodes.

“You’re not helping it either.” Tak took a long awaited drag of a cigarette out his pocket and tilted his back. He closed his eyes and let the smoke curl out of his mouth as he felt the flood gates in his mind give way. He could see Y/n's face appear out of the mist of darkness. The dark splattered blood on her face and the way her eyes looked so dead. He felt the same pain swallow his chest as before. The same one that tears through his skin and coils around his heart.

“Master Kovacs are you still with us?” Poe asked observing him closely.

Waking from his trance, Tak gave Poe one last glare before he finally took the hint and fazed somewhere else. Closing his eyes again, he resumed his dream. This time, though, was different.

He could still see her face, but there was no blood. She was smiling even. It seemed so real and she looked so lively. She was speaking incherently almost in a whisper, but he couldn't understand a single word. Tak reached for her but no matter how close he got, she would just grow farther and farther away. At one point he even began to chase her, but taking a final leap to catch her woke him from his dream. Why was this one different? What could it mean?

Getting up from his chair Tak felt his head spin in a whirlwind of thought. There was no way she could be alive. None. From what he can remember Y/n’s stack and sleeve were destroyed. Anyone that found her remains would have never let her live and surely destroyed her stack. Everything now is fuzzy but hes sure. What Tak remembered had to be true.

It just had to be... right?

Now Tak was questioning everything he remembered about what happened. The headaches were becoming worse and even came down with a fever from all the strain on his body and mind.

Poe appeared next to Tak who was lying in bed dripping in sweat. “Do you need anything? I can make myself rather useful in a variety of areas. Cooking, cleaning, or just simply an ear for someone to talk to.” Poe said avoiding eye contact.

“Fine.” Giving in, Tak talked about Y/n. he talked about her smile, her strength, courage, and of course how beautiful she was inside and out. Poe listened intently smiling at how much Tak was gushing about this mystery woman. But when Tak explained how he thought she died and how the details aren’t adding up, it sounded familiar. She died before Poe could meet her, which he disappointed to hear, but he was more saddened by the fact that Y/n’s death was still killing him.

“She sounds wonderful. You two seemed very compatible.”

“She was wonderful... Everything that I thought I knew and thought was solid proof is falling through my hands. I can’t think straight I can’t sleep... A part of me still thinks she’s alive but it can’t be true. Y/n would have found me by now she would be looking for me or let me know what was happening but...”

“Mr. Kovacs if she were alive.” Poe interrupted, “Y/n would very slim of an opportunity to meet you. We don’t know the circumstances she is in or even her whereabouts if Y/n were to actually be alive. Perhaps it is better to take what you have left of Y/n and hold onto it. If she is alive, it is completely out of your hands.”

Tak walked away from Poe trying not to agree with what he was saying. He took a moment to stand on the balcony, letting the cigarette slowly burn away. He looked at the lively and bright city before him, his heart slowly but surely breaking. Rain soon engulfed the city like a flame, completely soaking his clothes, and camouflaging his tears.

~Flashback~

“You know Taki, although I do hate being in the city, it always looks so beautiful at night. The lights, the noise. It’s all so... surreal.” Y/n spoke looking out onto the cityscape from their room.

Aside from the pollution and screaming and yelling, the lights mixing with the thundering rain painted a beautiful picture. The way the colors mixed in water drops and the way skies lit up with lightning had Y/n in awe.

“I hate it no matter what it looks like. It’s nothing but criminals, sex, and secrets and everyone else having to deal with it” Tak said snaking his arms around her and holding her close placing small kisses on her neck.

“Sex sounds pretty good right about now...” Y/n gave smiled giving Tak a kiss.

Tak took in her all of her features and the way the wind combed through her hair perfectly and her eyes were just endless. It was her original body, but she was more than just looks. He loved every part of her no matter what body she was wearing, and being with her made him the happiest man in the world.

“God you're beautiful.” he said pulling her slose as possible

“You’re not too bad yourself, Taki.”

“Ugh. Stop calling me that. It sounds awful.”

“Make me.”

~Present~

At Bancroft’s Party, Tak was observing all of his friends and how they interacted with each other, especially Bancroft himself. He didn’t see anyone suspicious, actually all of them seemed like it, but there were several people that stood out. For all the wrong reasons anyway. Aside from the frilly dresses to eight pounds of makeup to some people just completely naked, all seemed normal.

Tak continued to down a few more shots when the mood of the room seemed to calm. People began to buzz amongst themselves and cluster together when this woman appeared. She was pretty, everyone at the party was supposed to be. Yet, she had something they didn’t, it was a certain way she looked down at even the highest of the high of people that caught his attention as well as everyone else's.

She didn’t mingle with the other guests, in fact, she made her way straight to the bar paying no attention to anyone or anything but the drink she would take in her hand. The burning liquor seemed to relieve the now noticeable anxious expression on her face.

“Not a fan of parties I take it?” Tak asked watching this woman down two more shots of really strong liquor with ease.

The sound of Tak’s voice caused her to slowly turn her head towards him. Her expression was unreadable, and she was trying to find the words to say but couldn’t. After a moment she steadied herself and spoke.

“Not a fan of these assholes that's for sure. I have never been to a party like this in a while, and never without a certain special someone. Now that I am here I think I can manage these clowns all night. And by the looks of it, you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself either mister.” She took a moment to take him in, she noticing he was fighting his own battle in this miserable place.

“Same situation you’re in I guess. Having to deal with their shit is a real fucking pain in the ass. You know these people?”

“I know of them, but they’re not why I’m here. I was looking for that special someone, it was rumored that they would be here tonight. Huge guest of honor I hear. I pulled all the strings I had in my back pocket to get into this party.”

“Over a rumor? Everyone likes an optimist I guess. I hope they’re worth it.” Tak downed one last drink before he tried to leave but her words stopped him.

"At least I think you are."

Tak paused for a moment. At first he was confused, he didn’t know this woman. But the more he thought about it, the more it actually didn’t make sense.

"Who the fuck are you?" He said more than aggitated thinking she was there to kill him or start something he had to finish.

“Taki, you still haven’t figured it out? So much for that envoy intuition.”

Taki?

“Y/N? It can't be. That's impossible your stack was...”

“It was ok. It was damaged only slightly but I needed a new sleeve for sure. This sleeve took a while to make and I had severe sleeve sickness afterwards. I was desperate to find you Taki. There is so much buzz around you now it was hard to get to you. I am so sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner... Maybe I could’ve helped you with all of this I...”

Tak swooped Y/n into an embraced and kissed her. Even holding her was long overdue. He felt the grip on his mind release and felt his heart throb out his chest. Y/n melted in his arms and felt all tension leave her body. Between the tears and the I love yous, the time they spent apart was slowly erased.

Completely not caring about Bancroft and his death anymore Tak and Y/n navigated through the crowd and out the back door. Bancroft would have his head on a pike later but he didn't care.

Using the elevator they did their best to avoid cameras and other party goers who could point them out or stop them.

Tak waved down a cab and let Y/n slide in first. After taking a moment to breathe after practically running out of the place they both started laughing hysterically. He missed that laugh. Despite the new sleeve it sounded the same.

They began exchanging stories of their time apart, and Tak realized he had forgotten how badass Y/n can be. Her stories seemed more eventful and dramatic than he thought possible. It made Bancroft's death and party and cheap soiree.

When Tak took a turn spoke about how her 'death' affected him, Y/n's heart sank at every word. His whole demeanor changed and did her hardest to hold back the waterfall of tears in her eyes. All she wanted to was cradle him in her arms forever. He already had lost Quell, he shouldn't of had to lose her too.

They let the heaviness in the air between them fill the silence. There would be longer be a need for pain anymore. It was over.

The car soon came to a halt in front of the hotel and Tak had to brace Y/n for the storm that was Poe. In all honesty she couldn't wait to meet Tak's only friend through everything.

After an hour long interview with Poe, Y/n headed upstairs to Tak's room. He stayed behind to grab something to eat off of Poe to bring up.

The amount of bottles on the floor made her feel guilty. She knew he was alive and what happened but he didn't know about her. Even when he thought she was dead he looked for her and found nothing. There were times she questioned going back to him at all. Not because she didn't love him, because she thought he was better off. She thought wrong.

Hearing the elevator make it's way up she quickly got out her clothes and into one of his shirts on the floor. She laid on the bed trying not fall asleep on the extremely comfy mattress.

Tak stepped out of the elevator with drinks and something fancy on a plate but seeing Y/n he didn't think the food would even be touched. He just set it on the floor, took off his clothes, and slid into bed beside her.

She slid in closer to him and laid her head on his chest. His body felt so warm despite being out in the cold. Y/n didn't have a care in the world. Being in his arms was the only world she wanted any part of.

Tak took a deep breath and closed his eyes for just a moment and for once didn't feel any pain or guilt. At long last it was just silence and darkeness. He began to stroke her back just make sure she hadn't disappeared. Laying there in silence, just being in each other's presence after so long and given how exhausted they were from the last few hours was more than enough.

"I love you Taki. More than anything."

"I love you too Y/n/n."

"Ew don't call me that." Y/n giggled. "Never use it again."

"Make me."

There something Tak wanted to do before they closed in for the night. Something that took a moment for him to gather the nerve for. Despite the anxiety he was feeling, he had to make sure he wouldn't lose her again.

Sensing his anxiety, Y/n looked up at him.

"What's on your mind Taki?"

...

"Marry me"

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

Tags: @ittie-bittie-tittie @pixelsinspace @umbrellabrass @fandomalert31

#takeshi kovacs imagine #tak x reader #takeshi kovacs x reader #takeshi kovacs #altered carbon imagines #altered carbon

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modmamono · 4 years ago

Text

Why Space Channel 5 is one of SEGA’s best dumbest games ever, no questions asked. (Report 1 & 1/2.)

Space Channel 5 on the Dreamcast is one of my favorite things ever, let alone favorite video games. Though I more often watch it on YouTube then actually play it.

For those not in the know, Space Channel 5 is a game series developed by United Game Artists and published by parent company SEGA. And that’s the most Wikipedia quoting I’m gonna do in this gush piece.

There aren’t many games quite like this rhythmic, Simon says game. At least in style because this game has that in spades, the gameplay anyone can do. And I am not at all qualified to explain its style because I wouldn’t how to describe it as besides maybe very 70s?

Point is there’s something charming about this game, and I think SEGA agrees with me on that. The lead character, Ulala (seen above), appear in these games to name a few years after new Space Channel 5 games stopped being made after 2002:

2004: Sega Superstars

2006: Sonic Riders

2008: Sega Superstars Tennis and Samba de Amigo

2010: Sonic & Sega All-Stars Racing

2012: Sonic & All-Stars Racing Transformed and Project X Zone

2015: Project X Zone 2

And not to mention the invading aliens have been skins of the titular Puyo Puyo in that series for a while I can’t determine. Possibly since at most 2007 up until current day with Puyo Puyo Champions in 2018/2019.

ALSO not to mention the VR game that came out recently! (How could I forget that? That’s the main reason I’m doing this.)

So it is clear SEGA loves this game and it’s sequel a lot. I don’t think their most beloved cult classic NiGHTS: Into Dreams gets that much love from the company though it certainly does get a lot itself, most games wish their parents still loved them that much long after they had a game. Anyway...

Now the part where I actually talk about the game.

I wanna say, first and foremost. This is not a review of the game. This is just gushing about why this game makes me happy.

And everything I’m gushing about is just what you get from the from one playthrough of the game. Save for one exception, I will not be talking about supplementary material, nor Space Channel 5′s lore.

And yes, this colorful dancing/rhythm/simon says game has lore. Basically any non-repeated character model has their own biograph. So I will not go into that.

You’re not missing too much, there are interesting tidbits, sometimes they fill you in on background details of the story.

Speaking of the story. I’ll start in a second. But if this is new to you, you can watch it here first (The first playthrough is only half the video):

youtube

Prologue:

We start off with a bunch of alien sitting on a space couch watching space TV. These aliens are known as the Morolians and they’ll be the main antagonists for the evening.

This cutscene has no dialogue, so this is all open to interpretation for a first time viewer. Though I do enjoy this split second foreshadowing:

And that’s when the title screen appears. Blasting you with the series’ main theme Mexican Flyer. Look it up if you must. You’ll be hearing it a lot, it’s the game and Ulala’s leitmotif.

Report 1: This is terrorism attack on an airport... I’m gonna ignore that.

This is the only piece of supplemental material I’ll talk about, as it’s present in the game itself, but not elaborated on, and it is important to two of the character.

The game starts in a flashback. In the year AD 2489 a spaceship exploded. Everybody on board died safe for a little girl.

She was rescued by a man working for Space Channel 5. A news organization that with a specific focus on dancing. That last bit is nothing special though, as everything in this galaxy revolves around dancing.

After the little girl is saved by this kindly Channel 5 Gent (Age 25) she knew what she wanted to be after she grew up. She wanted to be a sexy dancing reporter for Space Channel 5 just like him (presumably). And to meet him so she can thank him in person.

10 years later......

It is AD 2499! And the Morolians attack a space airport and their ray beams hypnotize people to dance silly.

THE HORROR!

And that’s when Space Channel 5 sends in Ulala to report on the progress.

But what they’re actually doing is for Ulala to solve the problem instead of the Space authorities.

One character I do wanna mention now is that Ulala’s producer, Fuse, is an unseen character yet is important later. He’s the one briefing Ulala in the screenshot above. And oversees Ulala’s every move.

Also Ulala never got to meet her rescuer. He either left shortly after Ulala got rescued, or shortly before Ulala joined. Given what we learn later, likely the former.

Anyway onto the show:

BAM!

BAM!!

BAM!!!

I will always love that. Ulala got down on the ground in the panicking space air port to coolly report on the panic.

As quick aside, I wanna mention that Ulala doesn’t run in this game, she slowly struts and all of her struts are simply majestic. And those amazing struts lead her to the first gameplay section of this game.

Some Morolians hold a few hypnotized people hostage. This is is a dance battle. Meaning you got repeat exactly what the aliens do in the exact rhythm they did it in order to save the hostages. And I love this gameplay. It’s simple yet fun (provided you got minimal lag, you should look into that if you wanna play this game).

The controls are:

Up: Up

Down: Down

Left: Left

Right: Right/Light

Button 1: Chu (Aliens)

Button 2: Chu (Humans)

And this is how normal people settle things in this world apparently:

Party 1 (usually the Aliens) make up a tough but fair pattern for Ulala to copy in the hopes of psyching her out.

Party 2 (Ulala & Co.) gets as many chances ad she got. And the better she does more people tune into her news report. If she wins she gets what she wants. Saving the hostage and getting Party 1 out of her hair.

Every single one lives by this code of honor and I honestly have no clue if there’s an in-universe reason. But I love it regardless. I love it when people say: Up Down Chu Chu Chu. And the Ulala repeating it.

Though frankly, I don’t like it when the Morolians issue the commands. I like it when others do the exact same commands in this same game, so it’s a little bit of a bummer the Morolians do it.

Anyways. You save the hostages and they join in on Ulala’s unstoppable strut as will always happen if you rescue people. And they strut to the second gameplay type: The Shoot-out.

The controls are the same as the above but now you gotta watch out for humans in the mix.

In general these are trickier. And I might go into that later. But they do work on the same rules.

Don’t worry I won’t go over every dance or shoot-out unless there’s something special about it.

Also I’m pretty sure you kill people if you push the wrong Chu. Don’t do that, it’s bad for the ratings!

Skipping over three battles.Something new happens, rival space news station: Space(?) Channel 42 has a reporter of their own out on the field. And that reporter is planning to steal Channel 5′s viewership. And this is HER!

You do a dance battle and she dies.

Though seriously, I like this game does this. It’s not only aliens you fight, but other factions of the Space News Media. And it’s always a nice shake up when someone besides her shows up.

You see, for the most part any reoccurring enemy has recognizable mannerisms you gotta batlle, and her is no different. It’s hard to describe for me. You kinda gotta play or watch the game for yourself to see what I mean, but I think it’s best exemplified in Report 2. And the following games.

Though one thing’s for sure, each non-normal Morolians or rival reported does bring their own genre switch with them. Heck sometimes even normal battles have unique genres. I’m am not musically inclined so I wouldn’t know hers or most others.

Any way, before she dies she give an emotional speech and gracefully suggests to take her Channel 42 guitarist with her and Ulala accepts that’s the least she could do for a lousy reporter like her.

And then it’s boss time!

Yeah, actual bosses with actual boss characters. And not like the recently deceased as shown above. She’s practically for all intents and purposes another Morolian dance battle.

And it’s down to funky jazz music, not unlike what you’d see in Sonic Adventure! Even Ulala comments on it, confirming it’s dietetic Where does it come from? Not sure, there might be an explanation somewhere. But do keep that in mind. That the music we hear is also the music the characters hear as well.

Anyways:

Not Pictured: Super Stretchy Arms.

I think it’s a bit of a misnomer. Invader is correct, that’s what it’s here for. But is it really a robot? It moves like an organics and is a bit rubbery. This basically goes for all Morolian robots.

I can suspend my disbelief. You shouldn’t nitpick too much about Space Channel 5, it doesn’t want you to think too hard about it’s world even if there’s a lot to it. I’d be concerned if Space Channel 5 did wanna put its story and world building first and foremost.

But “Hypnotized Robot Invader”?

What?

Spoiler.

Robots and hypnotism... I’m pretty sure a sign that we made perfect human-like Artificial Intelligence if they can fall susceptible to Hypnosis. Even then I doubt it.

Sorry, that’s always bothered me, I get what they mean by it. It’s just the word choice... Did they mean Hypnotizing Robot Invader? This boss is great.

It starts off with a normal dance battle, but you get to watch a new Morolian enemy’s moves. It’s also quicker on the draw along with a few softballs to throw your timing off. Pretty good stuff.

And that applies to the next phase as well, where the the shooting starts.

I don’t have much to say.

Unlike the robot’s final phase where it’s the first phase again, but with guns and the robot goes to berserking speeds with the input commands.

And after you beat it, it joins you in a strut.

As does everyone you saved, No matter the gender, nor age, nobody is embarrassed imitating Ulala no matter what she does. We’ll be half as lucky to get a cool future as cool as 2499.

And with that the first report is over.

Report 2: (Age 35)

At the Morolian HQ (Presumably), their boss doesn’t like failure.

But like a good boss he doesn’t dwell on failure and moves on to the next plan. One of his lackeys has this plan: Another boss battle dance robot who operates on:

The everyone at the table is impressed. So I guess Ulala is screwed, game over.

This level is more of the same as the last one more or less, it’s possibly the most boring level in the series in that regard. It’s not bad, this is just the game bulding enough a status quo before they change things up in Report 3.

But that doesn’t make this level any less interesting to talk about, so I won’t go over it much.

The short story until something new happens is: Space Ship (think of it as a fancy yacht but in space) is being attack by Morolians, Ulala is send to report on it, and being the professional she is saves hostages as well.

She saves the captain, crew members, stewardesses, waitresses, the Space Diva (OH NO! NOT THE SPACE DIVA!), passages and the like.

UNTIL!

He voice says “I’m gonna steal you show, Space Channel 5”. And you see this ship flying by:

Another rival reporter, this one a pirate broadcasting station.

Side note: That’s sounds like the most important kind of pirate ever. Alternative news/non-mainstream with no money/rating motive blinding everything with journalistic integrity? Yes, by all means. If they’re pirates then so are Secular Talk & The Humanist Report.

Back to the silly dance game. The Pirates either jam or hack Channel 5′s signal and the Ulala is stuck with them for a while.

And then we meet that where we meet the gent above.

“[His] name is:“

“JAGUAAAAARRRR!!!” “JAGUAAAAARRRR!!!“

(Age 35)

LET’S DANCE!

Dude, I love Jaguar (Age 35) he’s gotta be my second favorite character in the series on account he’s just cool and incapable of embarrassment.

Remember the deceased of the last report? The Channel 42 reporter in the blue dress? He’s her counterpart for this chapter.

But whereas the deceased’s gimmick sounded air headed for a lack of a better term. Maybe, girly? Point is, battling her didn’t feel too dissimilar to battling Morolians despite her rhytmic mannerisms.

Jaguar (Age 35)’s gimmick is that he just adds. He starts with a simple Up. And then he adds a Chu, and another Chu. Eventually it becomes a really long chain of commands, it has to be some of the longest in the series. And you have to do them all from start to finish because he does them all sequentially. Can you repeat?:

Up. Chu. ChuChu. Right. Left. Down. DownDown. Down. Chu. Chu. Chu.

He is easing you into it, but it is by no means an easy fight. Because after the chain is at its longest, he just spamming ChuChuChu in quick succession. And then a simple Chu.

After defeat Jaguar & Co, escape by jet-pack, saying they will meet later.

This battle is a highlight for me. Coco Tapioco and the big bosses to come are better if you ask me (with exceptions). But Jaguar (Age 35) is some of the best the normal gameplay goes.

And you could argue what normal means in the context of Space Channel 5. But effectively, like Channel 42′s deceased, functionally he might as well be another Morolian if he wasn’t there to be set up for later. Because you do get person that just joins your Strut Club like everywhere else.

You gain his Jazz Man and you get a great sax solo as a reward beating him. Like how you got Channel 42′s guitarist for beating them. I like the think the Jazz Man can work for Jaguar (Age 35) again while the Channel 42 Guitarist is blacklisted.

And before we move on from Jaguar (Age 35) check out his Chu pose:

BOSS TIME!

Jaguar (Age 35): The alien mothership is retreating. Don’t you have to follow them, Channel 5? Fuse: Blast you, Jaguar [Age 35].

With the pirates giving chase, Ulala is left with the cowardly alien robot to elegant music.

Ignoring the robot’s title, while silly, its cowardice is its greatest asset. For it has kidnapped some space schoolkids, making their space teacher worry. Their space teacher can actually be seen at the start of the report.

Space fashion, am I right?

I’ve exceeded Tumblr’s invisible limit of what to put in a blog post. I’ll have to rewrite this boss what I have to say for this boss. So full, can’t spell check! We’ll be back!

#space channel 5 #sc5 #ulala #dreamcast #chu #gushing #jaguar #fuse #pudding #coco tapioca #morolina #morolians

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thisisthepartwhereyou · 5 years ago

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STAR WARS-SPECULATION #2: Rebel or Lost Cause? *May Contain Spoilers*

--- During the course of human history there has been many cases of overwhelming tyranny and opression. It can be as small as the dominion of a single creature, or as vast as an entire world. But as they say, even the cornered rat will bite the cat, and give birth to struggle and resistance. Under these circumstances, a rebellion rises to resist and challenge the rule of the oppressors, despite facing unlikely odds. David against Goliath, the Spartans in the battle of Thermopylae, and when speaking of the Star Wars-sequel trilogy, the Resistance and the First Order.

While one can go on to say that the conflict between the First Order and the Resistance is basically a carbon-copy of the Empire versus the Rebellion from the original trilogy, as we don't go deep enough into the history or political aspects of either group to really nail down their differences to their older counterparts. Though from what I gather, the First Order is composed of the remnants of the empire, who by the time of The Force Awakens (2015) is recognized as an extremist following, though not generally seen as a major danger in the eyes of the government (like a space-equivelent to North Korea?). The Resistance is a countergroup acting outside of the galactic government who sees the threath of the First Order and keeps an eye on their acitivties.

Either way, that is not what I am here to talk about today, as my focus will be directed at one of the most principal characters within the Resistance: Poe Dameron.

Played by the very likable Guetamalan-American actor Oscar Isaac, Poe Dameron is an ace X-wing pilot, an agent of the Resistance and the original owner of the droid BB-8. His actions in the first movie, where he stores important information within his droid, is what starts the whole chain of events for the trilogy, an act which rhymes with the actions of princess Leia in A New Hope (1977). Over the trilogy he is portrayed as a brave, cocky and hotheaded brother in arms. He is a generally well-received character, especially in regards to his bromantic (and apparently quasi-romantic) relationship with Finn, but has over the progression of the last two films been the subject for critique. Not as red-hot of a critique as some other aspects of the sequels, but enough to make you raise your eyebrowns a bit. The main critique being, is he REALLY neccesary?

Don't get me wrong, new members of the Resistance are vital for new movies, otherwise the Resistance might have looked like an old folks home. Poe Dameron should have all the ingredients neccesary to be the posterboy of the the Resistance: he is the member with the most screentime, his actions set off, he is played by a very likable actor and he is a great pilot. But the issue is, while it is all there, it is not really utilized well. The further one goes with these movies, the more one realizes that he is the least developed of the main characters. His role in TFA is minor, he acts as an agressor in a generally disliked sideplot in The Last Jedi (2017), and his part in The Rise of Skywalker (2019), while the richest in content, feels un-earned because the direction of the character is neither clear or given enough development.

So considering that his role doesn't add a whole lot in the trilogy after the first part, was Poe Dameron's continuous role in the sequel-trilogy REALLY neccesary? Objectively, I would have to say no. I mean if a character doesn't have a clear purpose, you either give him one, scale him back or kill him off, so that you can give more room for the other characters. I believe the therm is “kill your darlings.“ With that said, I can understand why one would be reluctant to kill him off to begin with; Oscar Isaacs is the most likable actor ever, something that translates into his performance, and in turn, the character. While Poe Dameron is pretty pointless, he is still hard to completely dislike. This illustrates the power of a talented actor, that he or she can someimes overwin bland or nonsensical writing.

So we have a character that is perfectly likable and who could have been a great addition to the franchise. There certainly was potencial in him, so what could have been done to make the most of it? Well, below are some of the directions I think could have been taken:

A) Poe Dameron dying in TFA: This one feels appropriate, considering it was the original intent of the moviemakers. As stated by Oscar Isaac's in Business Insider (https://www.businessinsider.com/star-wars-poe-was-supposed-to-die-2016-3?r=US&IR=T), his character was originally supposed to die. While it would be a shame to see a likable character go so fast, it might have solved a couple of issues and added something more to the first part of the trilogy. Besides the fact that it could have added an extra layer of danger to the plot, in that any character could die at any point, it would have also put all of our eggs in the basket of a deserting stormtrooper and a random scavenger. Plus, killing him off wouldn't have made his role in TFA much smaller anyway. Poe not being in the two following movies could have also left much bigger room for the development Rey, Finn and several other characters. Also, to see how the heroism and sacrifice of a single Resistance-member would affect Finn would be really interesting, considering that Finn would have owed his freedom and life to a complete stranger (who was just recently his enemy) that would have died before he could have even had a chance to thank him. How does that make a person who is trying to flee from the battlefield, feel? I can't help but to think of a similar situation in the Green Lantern-comics (DC), where veteran member of the Green Lantern Corps, Abin-sur, crashlands on Earth and gives his power ring to Hal Jordan, a human pilot, before dying. Abin-sur's death had a considerable effect on Hal Jordan, in that besides becoming a new corps member, but became one by taking over the ring of the corp's most beloved and respected members. That is a hell of legacy to live up to, not to mention a massive responsibility. Something like THAT would have been a pretty thought-provoking storyline for Finn.

B) His carelessness has personal consequences in TLJ: In the beginning of TLJ, Poe Dameron disobeys an order to evacuate and instead engages a First Order fleet. This is a foolhardy act, as even though they take down a Stardestroyer, a lot of Resistance pilots die in the process. While it has several consequences within the movie, such as barely having any pilots left for the remainder of it, he himself do not seem overly affected by it, dismissing it as the casualties of war. But if you really think about it, should there not be some resentment aimed at him besides from his superiors, and shouldn’t he feel more guilt? I mean, Rose Tico's sister died in that battle. Wouldn't it have been more interesting Rose and others resent him for his careless actions? This could've been a more likable struggle for him, as he should have been the one to learn that war is not just about defeating the enemy, but saving the ones you love. If he had done this and in the process displayed a sense of leadership in a time of great need, maybe his transformation into a commander in TROS would have felt more organic?

C) Poe goes with Finn to Canto Bight instead of Rose Tico: This one could have worked as a continuation to B. Canto Bight isn't exactly a favorite moment in TLJ, even for the ones who like TLJ. The main criticism being that it is not that interesting of a planetary environment; basically just feeling like a casino with aliens. Another critique is that it felt like a detour that was too disconnected and did ultimately not add that much to the other parts of the movie. One way of making the movie less fragmented, as well as give Poe something better to do, could have been to give him more or less the same role as Rose Tico. Besides further developing his and Finn's friendship, it could have even been a way of putting that awkward kiss in the third act to better use, and confirm some legitimacy to the whole Finn X Poe-ship. While I am not staunch supporter of the ship, I have to admit that it would have been interesting. With that said, I don't think it would have made everyone happy. I mean lets face it, if people get upset about a black dude in a stormtrooper-uniform, one can only assume how they would have reacted to an openly gay or bi character in Star Wars. But at the same time, if people were pissed off at even the good bits in TLJ, why not go all the way and piss off every stuck up parent sitting in the theaters worldwide while you're at it? Certainly would have been ballsiest move ever, especially considering it’s a Disney-film.

D) Poe staying at Leia's side in TROS: As I have written before, the main issues with TROS is messy storytelling and a rushed pace. One of many things that adds to this is by suddenly providing Poe with a backstory while simultenously trying to give him a bigger role than before by having him travel with Rey and Finn. What if they had scaled him down a little, let him stay with Leia as they plan for the upcoming attack? Not only would it have been more powerful for him to be there with her as she passes away, but also motivate him to step into the role of a mature leader more. I realize that this is a little sensitive, as it may have required additional footage of Leia in order to work. Though to be fair, being respectful is one thing, making a good movie is another. And also, if they can remake young Leia for a flashback, why can't they just remake old Leia a bit for some extra material?

Could any of these alternatives have added something good to the movie, or subtracted from the main story? You tell me. No, seriously, tell me what you think, I would love to hear your thoughts on the matter in the comments. Do you have any ideas of your own that could have helped make Poe Dameron the most iconic pilot of the sequel era? Feel free to discuss this with me :) ---

#star wars #poe dameron #finn #rey #leia #sw #x-wing #Speculation #rebel or lost cause #TROS #TLJ #TFA #The last Jedi #The Force Awakens #the rise of skywalker #theory #analysis #jcl #oscar isaac

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emperorsfoot · 5 years ago

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This chapter is short and a mess. It doesn’t flow right. I’m pretty sure there are like, million logical errors, and the transitions between the flashback and present don’t feel organic.

But I updated!

And that’s what’s really important, right?

...

A holo-screen, no larger than a standard issue datapad was projected from the armrest of Red Hord’s throne. It should have displayed readouts of the rift. Projecting energy readings from the special anomaly, radiation levels, temperatures, gravitational forces if it had any. Instead, the display was taken up entirely by the face of Hordwing.

“Maintain communications as you pass through.” He was saying.

Red Hord only rested his chin on his fist and allowed his fellow cabinet Lord to voice his concerns as if they were advice from a senior colleague. They couldn’t show it, not in front of brothers of lower rank, but Hordwing was worried about him. Hordwing didn’t want him to go to a shadow dimension they knew next to nothing about that had already trapped one of their brothers since his disappearance.

But, their Emperor, no, their Brother, had ordered Red Hord to go, so he must go.

That did not mean that Hordwing had to be happy about it.

“And be sure to send a signal through the rift every six hours so that the rest of the fleet can monitor your progress.”

“Out of curiosity, if the rift snapped shut behind me and I was trapped in there with Hordak, what could you do?” Red asked him. Equal parts annoyed by the other man’s hovering, and genuinely wanting to know what Wing thought he could do.

Hordwing only frowned at him.

Red Hord smirked back. He liked pointing out to the older man when he was being absurd. It made for a fun dynamic to their relationship.

“Just keep the com open for me.” He growled. Then, in a softer tone, so that only Red Hord could hear, he repeated. “For me, Red.”

With a sigh, Red Hord did leave the com channel open. He leaned back in his throne. “Helm, take us through the rift. We might all go to join the Host, let’s not arrive there an embarrassment.”

“When we go to the Host we’ll go together, Red.” Wing reminded him. “You’re not allowed to die without me.”

“You’re not allowed to choose when I die, Wing.” Red hissed back, keeping his voice down so that none of his own crew could hear him. “Only our Brother may choose when we die.”

Every single screen on the bridge –discounting the one Lord Hordwing was on- displayed the rift. From all different angles. Allowing for wide shots of its complete length and width, with measurements on its size, to close up images where one could see the small details of the fabric of space torn and tattered like actual fabric. Threads and strands of reality irradiated and glowing, drifting on the fluctuations of power that held the rift open.

As the Leather Vest drew closer, the readouts changed to data on their ship. Course heading, hull integrity, radiation shielding. Several alerts climbed into the yellow as they drew nearer. When the nose of the ship passed through, everything went to read. Temperature rising, hull plates heating, radiation shielding weakening. A few of Red’s bridge crew looked back at their Lord, silently asking for permission to turn back.

But, Prime ordered them into the breach. So, into the breach they would go. Come high water or the All High Host.

“Continue on heading.” He commanded.

“What is it?” Demanded Hordwing over the com. He could hear the alerts over the channel, but was not at an angle where he could see anything on the bridge. “What’s wrong.”

“Nothing I imagine isn’t perfectly normal for passing between dimensions.” Red Hord growled. It was kinda nice that Hordwing wanted to maintain radio contact and make sure Red was okay. But did he really have to be so annoying about it? Red Hord wasn’t a hatchling fresh out of the tank! He was a Lord, promoted by Horde Prime himself same as Hordwing. He didn’t need one of his older brothers looking out for him.

The ship gave a shudder as it passed all the way through the rift.

Hordwing’s image on the com screen went fuzzy for a moment. His voice breaking up. “You alri- -Red? –Respond- -what- -appened, Red Hor-?”

The bridge crew scrambled to assess any possible damages. Hull integrity, atmosphere leakage, nitrogen levels. Anything that could indicate fatal damage to the ship. Everything came back just within acceptable limits. A little high. Definitely undress stress and definitely close to the border between ‘Acceptable’ and ‘Danger’. But still just the right side of acceptable. Whatever Prime did with his magic sword to open the rift and ground it so that it stayed open, he also grounded it to make it safe for his forces to pass through.

Red tried adjusting the frequency of his com to try and get a clearer channel out to Hordwing. “All systems normal.” He informed the other man tersely. “I shall message the Emperor with an update within the next six hours.”

“And me, too, Red.” Wing added, voice a low whisper again. “You’ll message me too, right?”

“As the situation allows.” He nodded to the other Lord. Then switched off the com. Then to his helmsman, “We’re through. Put us in a stationary orbit over the planet, then do a scan for 66694-42-003’s signal.”

Damn Zero-Zero-Three. The idiot couldn’t just fuck-off happily to the middle of nowhere. No. He just had to rip open a pimple in time and space to wave at Horde Prime. ‘Hello, Brother! I live! Come find me!’ Damn idiot.

And Hordwing’s –for lack of a better descriptor- clingy behavior was due in part to Zero-Zero-Three.

Red Hord and Hordwing always had an interesting dynamic from the first moment Red was named and promoted to the cabinet. They were very close in age, only one batch apart, but from different crèches. Wing rose through the ranks of the First Division and Red through the Second, so they never actually met face to face until his promotion. They worked together well, easily. Red Hord did not have so easy a time whenever he had to work collaboratively with Hordren or even Hode –and Hode was, in part, the reason he was promoted in the first place!

Then Hode turned traitor.

Wing and Red were there aboard the Velvet Glove when Hode and his Gar partner tried to steal the Sword. Wing was one of the ones that held him down when Prime chopped off his head. Wing was one of the few that got to hear the last thing Hode said to Prime before he died. A statement that shook Wing to his core.

Wing didn’t get the opportunity to process, however, because almost immediately, Hode was replaced by Zero-Zero-Three, whom was named Hordak.

Hordak was also close in age to Red Hord –three batches apart- they did not develop the same kind of easy working relationship that Red enjoyed with Wing. But they did work well together. They might have worked better together if Hordak knew more about Hode. Red so desperately wanted to tell him more about Hode. To confide what he knew to another brother.

Red couldn’t talk to Hordwing, he used to be a wing pilot before he was promoted and pilots had no filter. They talked too much and didn’t know what not to say. Red Hord could not talk to Hordwing. Hordak had been Hode’s favorite. He would have liked to talk to Hordak, but Hode never clued the younger clone into what he was doing. Hode intentionally kept Hordak ignorant. In hindsight, that ignorance was probably what, not only saved Hordak from being executed along with the rest of Hode’s Force Captains, but also allowed him to be promoted to the cabinet.

But then Hordak fainted in a strategy meeting and was immediately stripped of his rank and banished to the front lines.

Red remembered Wing suddenly grabbing his hand and squeezing harder than was necessary when they watched Prime wrap his hand around Hordak’s neck and lift their little brother gasping and wheezing from the floor.

Wing held down one brother while Prime cut his head off, then watched a second brother be lifted in a choke-hold before being cast out. Maybe Wing was the brother he should really tell about Hode. But Wing was also an idiot. A different kind of idiot from Hordak, but still an idiot was an idiot.

After Hordak’s –Zero-Zero-Three’s- banishment, that was when Wing started with the whole, ‘when we go to join the All High Host, we go together’ bullshit. He watched Prime banish one cabinet Lord, a brother of equal rank to his own, for having issues that were the fault of the cloning facility and not the brother’s himself. And he watched Prime kill another brother, also a cabinet Lord, but one with seniority, who has served Prime for years!

Somehow, he got it into his head that either he or Red Hord were going to be next. That the first time either one of them failed, Prime was going to kill them on the spot. Wing did not want to be apart from Red, he had grown very attached to his brother. So, if they were to go to the Host, he wanted them to go together. At the same time.

Red almost rolled his eyes at the thought. Wing didn’t get it. If a brother was executed by Horde Prime, they did not go to join the Host. Traitors and weaklings were unfit to fill the ranks of the Host. Traitors and weaklings did not get an afterlife.

After Hode was unceremoniously executed, Red abandoned him. Abandoned his ideas and his Plan. Moved on. Took everything he knew –really knew- about the older brother and locked in a box. Away, deep in the back of his mind where he didn’t have to think about it. His loyalty returning to where it belonged, to where it always should have been. To Prime. His Brother. Brother to all.

It was stupid anyway. Hode turned out to be an idiot. Only an idiot could think to supplant the Emperor of the Known Universe. That was what happened when you let an alien fuck you in the cloaca. It fucked up your brain too. If Hode hadn’t crawled into bed with that Gar from Eternia none of this would have happened. Zero-Zero-Three never would have ascended to the cabinet, and by extension never been banished, and Red Hord wouldn’t be commanding his ship through a terrifying rift in the very fabric of space to a shadow dimension to collect the idiot for Prime.

Sometimes, Red did wonder how things would be different if Hode had succeeded. What kind of Horde Prime would Lord Hode have been?

…

Four-Zero-Eight looked at the droplets of dark purple blood. Hearing the drip louder than it actually was. Hearing a pounding in his ears. His arms shook with just the effort of holding himself up and his vision swam. For half a moment, his mind failed to register what his Lord was saying.

“You stupid, worthless, incompetent, failure!” Lord Horrin was snarling, saliva spraying from his mouth as he spoke. He was so angry.

He kicked Four-Zero-Eight in the side and the younger clone went tumbling across the hanger floor. What were they doing in the hangar again? Was this even the hangar of the Wool Cardigan? Oh. Right. They were abourd the Vinyl Hood. Lord Hode had to save Horrin’s strike force from a mission gone bad.

“The rebels took Nordor because of you!” Looking around the hanger, Lord Horrin lifted a crowbar that had been left out next to a batwing in mid-repair.

Vision swimming, Four-Zero-Eight barely register his Lord raising the crowbar over his head. He closed his eyes, preemptively wincing at the pain he knew was coming.

But the blow didn’t come.

“That’s enough!”

Four-Zero-Eight opened his eyes, vision still blurred. It took his brain longer than he felt it should have to understand what he was seeing. At first, he thought he must have been saved by a shadow. A figure of darkness grabbing Horrin’s wrist, holding back the blow. But that was insane. Shadows didn’t move like figures. Staring at them, breathing hard, Four-Zero-Eight blinked his nictitating eyelids until his vision cleared enough for the scene to make sense.

It wasn’t a shadow. It was a cape. Long, and black, and hooded. The hood drawn low over the head so that the face was all in shadow. The only thing visible, the crimson glow of his eyes. Lord Hode. Lord of the Third Division, and commander of the Vinyl Hood, the ship they were currently on. Lord Hode stayed Horrin’s hand.

“This is not how you educate a Force Captain that has failed you.” Hode said, voice issuing from the shadows of the hood, sounding as deep and dark as the shadows themselves. Hode had the same voice they all had, Horde Prime’s voice, but –somehow- Hode knew how to manipulate his tone and pitch so make himself sound so different when he wanted to. Hode looked down at Four-Zero-Eight, noting just how severe his injuries were. “This is not how you execute one for failure either.”

Horrin pulled his arm out of the other Lord’s hold. “You do not get to dictate to me how I deal with my own Force Captains, you Old Ghoul!”

“But I do get to dictate what goes on, on my own ship.” Hode replied calmly. “And I dictate that brothers are not to be bludgeoned with crude tools on my hangar floor.” It looked like Horrin was about to respond, but Hode cut him off before he could. “If your Force Captain failed to take the rebel stronghold of Nordor, perhaps it is because you –his superior- did not adequately prepare him for the mission.”

“How dare you-!” Horrin turned to fully face the other Lord.

“How dare you!” Hode snapped back, raising his voice only to match Horrin’s. “You fail in the mission our Brother chose to honor you with. You needed me to save you. Then you come into my ship and get blood all over my hangar blaming a subordinate for your own failure as a commander!” Hode snapped his fingers. “Lord Horrin is tired from his ordeal, Zero-Zero-Three, show him to an officer’s stateroom so he may rest.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Four-Zero-Eight blinked blurry eyes as a still pillar wearing a dress and a Force Captain’s badge stepped forward to politely escort Lord Horrin out of the hangar.

Hode bent down in front of him, the only thing in focus.

Taloned fingers gently brushed hair out of his face, examining his wounds. “He really did a number on you, little brother.”

Four-Zero-Eight had to spit blood out of his mouth before he could speak. “I am grateful to my Lord Horrin for taking the time to teach me this lesson.”

The words sounded robotic and insincere, even to his own ears. But working in the Second Division under Lord Horrin had thought him what to say and when to say it. Even when he was half delirious. He knew how to get by. He knew how to survive. It was how he was able to rise to become a Force Captain in the first place. Not because he was the best, most skilled, or most competent. It was because he knew how to play their game.

Those glowing red eyes blinked at him from under the darkness of the hood. His response impressing Lord Hode somehow. “My, my, Four-Zero-Eight, you just might be wasted under a Lord like him.”

…

“Lord Red Hord,” a bridge officer pulled him from his reminiscing, “orbit is stable and we have located a signal consistent with 66694-42-003’s. Your orders, sir?”

Red stood from his throne. “Our Emperor wasn’t his little brother returned to him. Let’s go pick him up.”

#entrapdak #ocs #original horde clone #lord hode #hode #red hord #lord red hord #horde prime #evil horde #horde empire #hordak #hordwing #fanfiction #ao3 #RenkonNairu #a song of steel and light

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kumkaniudaku · 6 years ago

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Couples Therapy: Rough Patch

ROUGH PATCH: ONE | ROUGH PATCH: THREE

Word Count: 1798

Fifteen days.

Two separate bedrooms, a wall of relative silence, no affection, and fifteen days of painful separation settled over the Boseman household in a thick, heavy fog.

Chadwick and Tasha sat a cushion apart in the quaint downtown Los Angeles office wrapped in their individual thoughts, recounting the last two weeks and some change and wondering where the newlywed bliss turned into constant quarreling.

Maybe it was when Chadwick went back to work sooner than anticipated, effectively cutting their alone time to a measly few minutes of conversation as Tasha rushed out of the door for work or before bed. He couldn’t remember the last time he shared some salty snack with her while they discussed each other’s day.

Tasha was sure the relationship went left when her old friend insecurity came to visit. She still struggled to understand why he chose her of all the women he had access to. And why did he wait so long? She often wondered if this was a pity relationship or one of convenience because, lately, their union didn’t feel like it was built on a foundation of love.

The soft click-click of the Newton’s Cradle resting on Dr. Barea’s coffee table became larger than life in the quiet room until the click and close of the wooden door introduced a third party.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite dating duo turned married couple,” Dr. Barea greeted as she took her seat in front of them. She took a moment to observe their unusual body language and tilted her head. “I’m assuming there’s more going on at home than the need for a baggage dump today. Which of you wants to start?”

Uneasy glances at each other yielded no results from the couple, prompting their therapist to take initiative.

“Okay, no one wants to volunteer, so I’ll choose. Tasha, how about you start us off.”

In her mind, Tasha had laid out the issues she wanted to discuss over and over. When she forwarded Chadwick the appointment confirmation days prior, she took her lunch break to type out a list of concerns and demands that she needed to get off of her chest. But now, with the opportunity to finally release what had been bothering her in an eloquent soliloquy, words she hadn’t planned to say came tumbling out in a rush she couldn’t control.

“Why? We spent years together before this, faking the funk and sharing feelings that platonic friends don’t share and you never, ever made a move to solidify us earlier. Why? Because I really need to know if I’m what you want or simply what you had left.”

“I told you when I proposed. I couldn’t give you what I thought you deserved.”

“Mmm, see, I don’t buy that. I don’t,” CoCo answered, half laughing while she shook her head. “That’s bullshit.”

“Oh, now it’s bullshit. Everything is bullshit when it isn’t what you wanna hear, T.”

“Chad, don’t start that. Ju-”

“Tasha,” Dr. Barea interrupted to stop the rant boiling to the surface. “Do you want him to give you an answer or not?”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.” Chadwick and Dr. Barea watched Tasha fold her arms and turn her body like a petulant child.

When the young therapist opened her mouth to speak, Chadwick lifted his hand to stop whatever she had to say. It was time for husband and wife to have a heart to heart with no interference.

“Ever since we were kids you have been damn near perfect. You got better grades, larger accomplishments, and the better job when we were done with school. I could not compete, and to be honest, I didn’t want to. I just wanted to be part of your world.”

Dr. Barea could see tension leaving Tasha’s body though she refused to turn and face Chadwick. Her small nod in his direction encouraged Chadwick to continue.

“Do you remember when you broke up with that guy you dated for like six weeks? When I asked you about it, you told me that he didn’t deserve you because he ‘didn’t have a pot to piss in or window to throw it out of’. And I laughed and agreed, but when you left, I stood in my rundown apartment knowing that I would probably never have the chance to have you.”

“Aaron, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yeah, but you said it,” he said, the hurt still apparent in his tone.

“I waited. I waited until I was doing well for myself and could afford to piss in a hundred pots and choose a window to throw it out of, only for you to be with someone else. Then I fought for you against the wishes of almost everyone around me because I knew you were the only person that would make this worth it. So, please, don’t ever question if you’re what I want. You are all I want.”

Chadwick’s attention had shifted from the back of Tasha’s head to the ground beneath him, robbing him of the chance to see his wife turn to look at him with sympathetic eyes. Fighting the voice in the back of her head that told her it wasn’t a good idea, she reached across the empty cushion to place her palm on his forearm.

“Please...don’t pee in our pots.” For the first time in weeks, Chadwick cracked a tiny smile in Tasha’s direction to earn a similar smile from his wife.

“That was progress. Do you feel satisfied with the answer you received, Tasha?”

She peeled her eyes from her husband to give the woman and answer, “I do. I feel like a bitch for even questioning him.”

“You’re not a bitch, T. Don’t say that.”

“I might not be a bitch, but that doesn’t take away from the fact that I hurt you. I’m so-”

“Why do you do that?” The sliver of warmth in Chadwick’s eyes returned to a cold, dark stare as flashbacks of their last argument played in his mind.

“Do what? What did I do?”

“Every single time I make an observation or I tell you something, you have a rebuttal! Why do you feel the need to have the last word?”

Tasha felt the wind being knocked from her lungs as she took time to seriously contemplate the answer to Chadwick’s question. She mentally recounted all of the instances of her unnecessary commentary or when she cut him off in the middle of a sentence and felt smaller the more they began to stack up.

“I think...I think I’m used to being around people that need my input and guidance every second of every work day. I mean I work with a lot of incompetent people!”

CoCo’s attempt at a joke fell flat, earning blank stares from the other two people in the room.

“So you think Chadwick is incompetent and needs guidance?”

“No! Not at all,” she exclaimed in an attempt to gather her words.

“I think you should tell him that.”

Chadwick’s expectant and sad eyes bore into Tasha’s waiting for even half of the soul sharing he awarded her.

“I do a terrible job compartmentalizing,” she admitted more to herself than to Chadwick. “I’ve always felt the need to interject because I’ve always had to. You know the dynamic between my mom and me, and at work, I’m always the go-to person to keep the ship afloat. I have to remember that you are just as capable if not more than me to make decisions. You’re a breath of fresh air, not a repeat of the outside world.”

In the midst of the emotional moment came a slow round of applause that shifted the couple’s attention from each other to their trusted practitioner.

“I think that is a first for you two since we’ve started this process.”

“Us ending a baggage dump without tears,” Chadwick questioned as he finally tore his eyes away from his wife.

“No. Tasha finally admitted she does things the wrong way every once in a while.” Dr. Barea’s joke added levity to the tense atmosphere in the way that she intended, pulling hearty laughs from her favorite newlyweds. “Here’s my homework.”

“Please, Andrea, no homework this time. Let’s end on a high note.”

“When you become the therapist, you can make those decisions, Mrs. Boseman,” she smiled, earning a playful eye roll. “I want you two to spend some time together. I’m not saying jump back into newlywed bliss, but I do want some uninterrupted, private time between you. Spend the day in each other’s presence with no outside interference.”

“Sounds easy enough. I need a break from writing anyway.”

“And Lord knows I need a reason to stay out of the office on the weekends.”

“You say that now, but here’s the challenge,” Andrea laughed. “Tasha, you have to let Chadwick lead the entire way. No objections unless it is detrimental to your wellbeing.”

“But-”

“Aht! No objections!” Tasha agreed with a childish grumble that pulled a chuckle from Chadwick. He planned to have some fun with that rule. “As for you Chadwick, you are required to show Tasha just how much you want her. I won’t tell you how, but know that it can not be a singular gesture. Make a day out of reminding her why you chose her.”

Once ground rules were established and agreed upon, Chadwick and Tasha walked out of the office with one less weight crushing their relationship. Chadwick followed his wife to her car in silence, sneaking the occasional glance at the striking features that he still found just as beautiful as the day he met her.

Tasha decided to start her exercise early and let him guide her into her seat before closing the door behind her and leaning over to pop his head into the open window.

“I hope I’m not being too forward by asking you to spend the day with me Friday. I know you have to work but, I was hoping we could maybe -”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

Tasha smiled bashfully at Chadwick’s surprise, “I’ll take a personal day and start the weekend early. Should I wear something specific or?”

“I’ll be happy with whatever you put on,” he smiled. “Meet me downstairs for breakfast in the morning?”

“I’ll be there.”

Though affection didn’t feel “right” following an intense fifteen days, the couple shared smiles and a light handshake before Tasha disappeared into traffic to resume her work day.

Fifteen days.

In two weeks, misunderstandings and missed opportunities to communicate had nearly destroyed a bond that took 20 years to build. Now, one day could make or break Chadwick and Tasha for good.

_____________

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#Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman fan fiction #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman x you #chad x coco #coco x chad

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31lemon39 · 7 years ago

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Reddit user Throwaway7289333 claims to have the plot of season 5. Since the account was deleted, here's all of the posts together:

I created this account just to share this with you all. I will not answer questions or reveal my source, but this sub will know I'm real as Season 5 progresses. I was made aware of a few things that will be happening and some of it really excites me as a new fan of the show, some other parts not so much. Please do not ask me my source or ask for more details, I'm telling everything I can that won't give away my source, and I don't want them to get in trouble after the convincing it took for them to tell me I could post this. I apologise if my descriptions isn't as accurate as a much bigger fan's of the show would be. i do not know the order a lot of these plotpoints occur. I was going to post this on the main reddit but I saw that there was one just for spoilers. Please take this with small grains of salt because a lot of this show is new to me and confusing. -Lapis has a major fight with the Crystal Gems and leaves. Garnet tries to prevent Lapis from leaving and is nearly poofed until she backed up. Lapis fly's through space until she finds a planet colonised by homeworld and blends in with other gems of her kind to build a world. -Steven/Connie visit Lars and the off-colours in space. After stealing a ship, Steven and company is found by a new squadron of Moonstones sent by a group of upperclass gems. Moonstones are scout gems, and are able to tell where any cut of any gem is at anytime if shown an image of the gem. The moonstones are led by a gem that the moonstones call "Cat." The gem named Cat has the power to override any homeworld technology and uses this power to shut down the ship. Lars's, Rhodonite, and Flourite try to fox the ship, while Stevonnie senses danger and fuses. The fusion of Connie and Steven somehow get on a smaller ship that gets shot down by a bigger one. Steven and Connie crashland on a planet that I am not going to bother to try and spell. -Steven and Connie meet Lapis in this world and she helps them hide. Throughout the world are statues and morals of a gem called Pink Diamond, no Kindergardners are in site. It is revealed that the race of this world has another galactic empire that rivals the gem empire. A White Diamond owns this world and has found out the planet is not good for making gems. Because of this, she has had Lapis Lazuli's putting water on this world for centuries, and forcing the enslaved race to build towers of the Pink Diamond. Other gems that do not talk are seen painting and carving big pictures of Pink Diamond, Yellow Diamond, Blue Diamond, and the White Diamond. After being captured in the ship, Rhodonite and Flourite are destabilized for being fusions and are put in bubbles by the White Diamond. -A gem called Emerald is given a weapon and is put in charge of the breaking of Steven and a pink sapphire. Connie/Lars are to be taken to the homeworld for research purposes. Steven's Lapis creates a diversion to stop the shattering of Steven. The next few parts I have tried to erase from my memory and I feel is a little too dark for a cartoon network show. During Lapis's diversion, Lars uses all of the power he possesses to create a portal back to Earth. Steven, Pink Sapphire, and Connie escape through this portal. Steven sees Lars collapse as he runs through and it is implied that Lars is no longer going to be with us. Lapis is poofed by the Emerald. -Upon returning home, Lars's parents and Peridot are heartbroken by the fate of Lars and Lapis. -To put this in a better note, Steven's Sapphire defuses from Garnet, angering Ruby. After seeing Pink Sapphire's defect, she wants to fuse with her. The 2 Sapphires fuse, and Ruby is really angry (in a comical way). After seeing the murals on the gem colony, Steven/Connie have even more questions about Pink Diamond. Due to the fear of homeworld, Steven/Connie fuse back to Stevonnie and it is implied they intend to stay as Stevonnie for a while. With the help of Steven's Sapphire, the Sapphire fusion is able to combine her powers with the other Sapphire. The Sapphire is overwhelmed with emotion and makes sculptures of ice. This sculptures lead the viewer into a flashback where we see Pink Sapphire serving the Pink Diamond. -A lot of the flashback is hard for me to explain, but it is revealed that Pink Diamond on the surface cared about all life, but that was because of her fascination with manipulating it. The Pink Diamond started the creating of Forced Gem Fusions. She would borrow races from the other diamond's colonies and have them kept in Zoo's and try to study their interactions together. Stevonnie is overwhelmed by emotion as well, and the sapphires create a sculpture of a fusion between the Pink and Blue Diamonds. It is implied that Pink would keep Blue forcefully fused in this fusion for varying periods of time. When Yellow Diamond found out, she told the White Diamond the viewer is shown through a sculpture. The Sapphire fusion breaks apart. Peridot is overwhelmed and runs and it is unknown to where she is going. Sapphire and Garnet reform. This is what I gathered from what I was told and please don't ask anymore, mostly because it would make my source obvious and also because a lot of things I do not understand. We get to see that Steven's Sapphire are Ice Spike things, to end on a positive note. I did not plan on logging back onto this account after I logged off. Not saying How I knew this was rude, I'll give you that. My father is very good friends with a translator of Steven Universe and other animated shows. He has read and shown me parts of scripts of upcoming Steven Universe Episodes. The reason I didn't post pictures of the scripts is one: security reasons for the company, two not wanting the firation of him, and three, in general a lack of motivation to go through the effort of proving the reality of myself when I know in around a month I will be proven real. My native language is not english, but I know with the intelligence of my main language revealed, it would be obvious who my source was, that is a main reason why i have hesitance. Rereading my post, I noticed some mistakes I would like to fix: I did not know who Rutile was but I looked again and she is friends with Flourite and is and bubbled by the White Diamond. Expect another song of Lapis and of Peridot I mistaked in the last sentence, Sapphire's weapon are Ice Spikes, and the pink sapphire is named Padparadscha. Her weapon is her eye but Steven is teaching her how to use it. The best proof I can offer are pictures of parts of the scripts, but with heavily cropped out names and numbers of production Hi guys, it is a little late in my country. Earlier today, I sent pages of the reading of two episodes of season 5 to the moderators. I have more and I'm going to try to get physical copies to take pictures of and send. Earlier today, a reddit user sent me a message and correctly came to the situation of the country I am from. He convinced me to send him the scripts of three of the episodes and he summed up for me what happened. I even added him on snapchat jajajaja -A song is being written featuring White and Pink Diamonds. -White Diamond has every single gem power and weapon in her arsenal. She created Yellow Diamond for war, and Blue Diamond for diplomacy. Blue Diamond was the first resort, to use powers of emotion to convince other aliens to surrender to homeward. Yellow Diamond, second resort, to take empires by force if they didn't comply. White Diamond's jobs were colonisation and running homework.d -Pink Diamond was an accident. She was born with no powers. White Diamond did not want to shatter her because she had a vision of a new power of the empire. She planned on taking her strongest 20 gems and abandoning homeworld to spread the gem empire thousands of places away. She had the intending of leaving her homeward to Pink Diamond eventually. -White Diamond created every gem under Yellow and Blue Diamond. Pink Diamond robbed White Diamond secretly and stole these plans. Pink Diamond designed all of the Earth gems to rebel against homeworld. When she was first birthed, yellow diamond was disgusted and wanted to shatter her. She grew on Yellow Diamond eventually. Blue Diamond thought she was beautiful. -Pink Diamond created the powers of healing and dreaming with others. Rose Quartz was her main experiment, a gem designed to rebel against homeworld. Pink Diamond's plans of destrificaiton were to learn how to use Rose's dream powers, take control of the body of the White, and make her do something to turn everything against her. -At the highest hight, of pink diamond, almost every gem, regardless of court had their main loyalty to her. She had Blue Diamond obsessed with her, and she had the intention of assumption that Yellow does what Blue wants, and that Yellow and Blue would help her take down homeward. -When Yellow Diamond found out the power of keeping Blue forced in fusion, she told the White Diamond. -No single gem is responsible for her shattering. There are multiple episodes dedicating to why Rose's Pearl, Pearl, Rose Quartz, each diamond, and all pink's subjects are responsible for her demise. -I do not know who killed Pink Diamond or who shattered her, and the episodes seem all over the place with the hinting of the guilty. -White Diamond has around a hundred pearls just for her. Every Pearl is a different color, but they all have one aspect of white clothing on them. One of these Pearl's was given to Rose as a gift by White, another was given to sabotage Pink. -Homeworld was a lot more open and less discrimination against fusing before Blue and Yelloe Diamonds revealed to the White Diamond what pink was doing to EDIT: blue not yellow, sorry, was double checking to see if my editor missed anything and found that all by me I am hoping this makes sense, I sent it to another user earlier and he fixed it for me, i do not believe there are mistakes now. One of the final episodes of the season (My helper from here said he thinks it was early Season 6 but I have no reason to believe any of my episodes are from season 6) ends with White Diamond sending Steven a dream and telling him "Alright, I'll finish this myself." Steven then sees her sleeping getting into a bodysuit and flying off of homeward. EDIT: Pink Diamond also created a lot of gem technology to give herself a fighting chance. She created the blueprints for a lot of the planet we see in our series.

#Steven universe #Reddit #throwaway7289333 #red #this is most likely fake but just in case and all #possible spoilers

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sunlitroom · 8 years ago

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Gotham 3.20 How The Riddler Got His Name

As I watched it, and some random observations here and there.

Previously on Gotham.

The Court of Owls plotline helpfully condensed in 5 seconds. Fake Bruce – and how can he save Gotham. He‘s apparently only part of the plan - with Jim the other part. Katherine asks if Frank knows what happens if Jim fails. Bruce and Selina seem pretty over due to Bruce not telling Selina about her mother’s plan. The pier. Ed doesn't love Oswald. He loved Isabella. Bang. Splash

As always, long post will be long - reaaally long. There are likely to be rambling digressions. Gobblepot may appear (although I welcome all shippers and non-shippers alike :)). There will be naked favouritism and naked not-favouritism. Broader comments at the end on plotlines and parallels and general direction.

We see a scientist enter a raised glass lab in which Ed is lurking with a gun

Greetings, professor

The professor wisely calls for help, but Ed assures him that no-one is coming.

Ed’s appearance is very clean and clinical – not a hair out of place. Sterile.

Who are you – asks the professor. Ed smiles.

Excellent question

Ed offers a riddle, but the professor gets it wrong. Ed is infuriated by this – control totally lost. He seems to catch how extreme his response is.

I apologise - I'm not myself these days

Ed ties him up and tries another riddle, which he again gets wrong. Ed is furious again, and says he expected more. I’m not really sure why he expects the head of chemistry to be good at wordplay – but whatever. Ed says that none of the others did well either. We see the penny drop for the professor that he might not make it out of this.

Others?

A writer, artist, philosopher. Intellectual and artistic stars

Ed killed them all, apparently. He continues.

My best friend recently said there was no me without him. I shot him and dumped him in the river.

The professor cringes – because if this man murdered his best friend, he knows there’s no hope for him. Ed goes on.

He was a sort of guide to me on my journey…..

(an aside – this is a theme for Ed in this episode. Oswald the person is reduced to only what is useful for Ed, in memory and in hallucination. In a way, it’s as much an assertion of control and ownership as painting a question mark over Oswald’s portrait, or holding on to trophies like Dougherty’s badge, or Kristin’s glasses.)

…I know who I am professor. It’s how to be him that is eluding me. Ed is visibly agitated and frustrated. He offers another riddle – which the professor can’t answer.

Too bad, says Ed. He opens gas canisters and leaves, blowing the building up behind him as he goes.

Ed really is a selfish asshole. Artists and academics all squandered because they couldn’t answer his riddles. It’s maybe interesting to consider whether Ed – whose role was perhaps not reflective of his intellect – is likely to have resented figures who were recognised for their abilities.

Bruce recounting night of his parents’ death - except it's not Bruce, it's fake Bruce, who's been well rehearsed. Katherine is pleased.

Excellent, my dear - you truly are Bruce Wayne.

She phones Uncle Frank, and says that they are ready, adding.

I hope your nephew is amenable. Should he refuse - you know the rules.

Frank reassures her. She tells Bruce they are to proceed, and fills a biiig syringe.

Ed is reading a newspaper - Oswald missing, worst feared – a report on the murder of the chemistry professor.

Ed rubs his temples (we can assume running the city single-handed and going on a killing spree is pretty tiring) and pops a pill. His eyes go weird, and he turns to the sofa to see a hallucination of Oswald in a sodden suit. He snarls at him

What did I tell you about dripping on the couch?

It’s Oswald’s house, Ed. So belt up.

Os needles Ed over his hypocrisy, asking him how long he’ll present the public face of grief, when he actually killed his best friend. Ed is rattled – which suggests that although Ed might be using the hallucination of Oswald to serve his own needs, we’re still seeing some of the same stuff we saw eack when it was BadEd in the mirror – needling, provoking, mocking.

Oswald walks into the room and asks Ed about his extra-curricular activities, looking at a noticeboard with pictures of Ed’s recent victims.

HallucinationOswald mirrors Ed’s gestures as they look, because he's essentially just a projection of Ed.

Oswald recommends that Ed ditch the riddles. Ed reacts strongly. This is not an option

A good riddle reveals the asker – so someone who can answer can help him

He wants to find a guide to help him – because knowing who he is and how to be that person are two different things. Halluc-Os sneers.

I made myself Penguin when I killed Fish

He claims he didn’t need anyone’s help – and had no teacher.

(An aside- This also flags up areas where Ed’s understanding or knowledge of Oswald is flawed or incomplete. Fish told Oswald she created him when they met again – and Oswald did not dispute that. Either Oswald did not share that information, or Ed didn’t listen. I’d go for (A), since Ed paid attention to everything that helped him to read and manipulate Oswald)

Ed clicks his fingers. Maybe it’s not a teacher that he needs – but an enemy. Villains are defined by the men who seek to stop them, and he knows the perfect man (Freudian slip there from Ed – as discussed elsewhere with insights from @rhavewellyarnbag and @millicentcordelia - Jim is indeed the golden boy in Ed’s eyes)

Halluc-Os snaps to attention and steps in front of Ed as if to stop him

Please - do not say Jim Gordon

Jim says Jim’s name at the same time – and smiles maliciously at Oswald’s pained expression. Again – discussed elsewhere with @millicentcordelia and @rhavewellyarnbag – Ed knows that Oswald cares about Jim and tries to protect him, and so his hallucination of Oswald behaves accordingly. Mentally tormenting a hallucination of Oswald after he’s already messed horribly with his head and shot him is…. something else. Ed really does enjoy hurting people.

At GCPD, Lucius is talking over the recent string of murders with Harvey, who still appears to be acting captain. Harvey is dismissive, but Lucius is insistent.

And professor of mine died in that lab fire

Harvey pulls a face.

Bored down in the lab, Lucius?

Lucius visibly reigns in his frustration

Yes – but that’s not why you should look at this

Harvey says they cannot allocate resources to this (6 murders, Harvey – really?)

Lucius wants to call Jim, but Harvey refuses and says Jim needs rest.

A singing telegram arrives downstairs for Jim with a murder riddle from Ed. It’s a chess strategy, from which Lucius deduces he is going to kill again. I get a depressing flashback to season 2 of Twin Peaks and Windom Earle’s shenanigans.

A competitive chess game. Ed watches from a balcony. He’s tired and headachey – slapping his face to stay awake. They should have left the scene explaining Ed's exhaustion and drug use to combat it in – I think. The idea that Ed was not enjoying running the city anymore and was suffering physically adds more fuel to his decision to find his own way. Oswald appears again when he pops his pill. What the hell is he taking? Ed thank Oswald for coming. Oswald is sour.

Like I had a choice

Ed promises that it will be electrifying.

Oswald eats popcorn while Ed obnoxiously interrupts games by yelling suggestions from the balcony. Oswald tires of this.

Can we discuss why you're doing this?

Ed doesn’t like being questioned. Oswald smiles.

The problem with talking to projections of your psyche – and you of all people should know this – is that they know everything you know. Gordon can't help you (a slip by Ed– I don’t think Os ever refers to Jim by surname only). No-one can. You need to face the truth. (Again, this is pretty much BadEd territory – undermining, insulting)

Ed is distracted by the arrival of GCPD.

No Jim Gordon? Well then, who?

He smiles when he sees who - Harvey and Lucius

Oh - how interesting.

Ed flips the first switch, shocking a player – and enjoys the chaos that ensues – the hallucination forgotten.

Country Cabin That Looks Suspiciously Like The Place Maroni took Oswald

Jim wants to know why he's here. Is Uncle Frank going to explain disappearing when he was a kid? Or what happened between him and his dad?

Frank asks for trust. Jim knocks back a drink before answering.

You’re family - of course I trust you.

Somewhere, Selina feels the urge to smack Jim on the side of his head and give him a talking-to.

Frank asks Jim if he’s ever done something he thought was right at time, but would give his life to do over. Jim internally reviews every life event to date, up to and including his breakfast choices this morning.

Frank says that was what happened with Jim’s father. He loved his brother and Jim is his son. He wants to make things right.

Wayne Manor, where knife throwing lessons are in progress.

Alfred deliberately annoys Bruce as he throws to test his concentration. He thinks Bruce has something on his mind.

Miss Kyle, perhaps

Apparently, Selina let a note for him – asking for a meeting. Bruce refuses - Selina's avoided him for weeks, and it’ll take more than a note to have him running. I suppose Bruce is a child – so his lack of understanding is plausible – but Selina did have her mother, who abandoned her, come back into her life and immediately cynically try to scam her. I think she’s allowed to have some problems right now.

GCPD, where Lucius reviews evidence. There’s numbers on bottom of the chess pieces. They call the number they give them, and reach Ed, trying out a new gravelly voice. He tells Lucius it’s bad manners to intercept other people’s mail. Lucius asks why he killed all those people

I had no choice - they failed my test

He invites Lucius to solve clue – the next target is in the belly of beast. If he can solve the clue, then he’s one step closer to finding him.

We can see, in the background, that Ed has painted a question mark over Oswald's portrait

Out in the countryside, Jim and Uncle Frank are hunting. Jim misses. Frank commiserates – but Jim tells him it was deliberate, in order to test his gun. Frank makes disappointed noises, but Jim’s having none of it.

You tell me you’ve done terrible things, and then you bring me out here (Good instincts, Jim. Isolated cabins are murdery)

Franks asks if Jim’s heard old Gotham tales about the Court of Owls. Jim responds,

Pretend I haven't

Frank elaborates. They’re a secret society started by elite to maintain balance. (elites aren’t interested in balance, Frank – they’re interested in maintaining an unbalanced status-quo which perpetuates their power, but anyway).

However, time and power has corrupted the organisation, of which Jim’s father was, and Frank is, a member.

Jim handles his gun meaningfully.

Frank reassures him. The Court doesn't mean him harm. It has the highest regard for him, and wants him to become a member. Jim looks generally unhappy.

GCPD – where Lucius and Harvey interrogating a man. Harvey tells Lucius to rough him up, but Lucius doesn’t play that way – and says that ‘no-one is hitting anyone’.

Long story short – the man’s boss is called Mr Thirio – Greek for beast – so they can find the next clue.

Wayne Manor, in the kitchens.

Bruce asks Alfred what he’s making. It’s shepherd’s pie. Fuck – flee to the city, Bruce. Get in a fight. Get abducted. Visit Jeri. Visit Jerome. Shepherd’s pie tastes of precisely fuck all and never seems to come to an end.

Alfred tells how the recipe was given to him by an old ‘lady friend’ with whom he had a fling, but broke up over something silly. Bruce scoffs at the attempt to get his to see Selina. Alfred elaborates, though, and says that at least he and his ex got closure. Bruce should see Selina – if only for that. Bruce agrees, and Alfred says he’ll keep some pie warm. Even better. Dry shepherd’s pie.

GCPD.

Lucius tells Harvey that Thirio was not in his apartment. Harvey is not really listening, admiring himself in the mirror. He’s going to the academy graduations.

How do I look?

Is this what Gordon deals with?

Harvey thanks him, and then asks if he’s seen his badge

Oswald’s mansion, where Ed is being berated by his own psyche. Oswald rants at him. He showed him how to be Ed Nygma. He showed him how to run the underworld, hidden in plain sight.

(An aside. Ed fundamentally doesn't want that. He doesn’t want to be concealed in any way. He needs to be recognised – which is why his situation with Oswald was only ever temporary)

Oswald works on him some more. He says that Ed isn't sleeping, that he’s taking drugs and talking to his own hallucination. He’s screaming now, trying to undermine him.

You’re lost without me.

Ed tries to leave. However, his vision blurs and turns red, and suddenly hallucination Oswald is singing a torch song. This seems to enrage Ed. He doesn’t want a reminder of this aspect of Oswald. His hallucination is there to serve a specific purpose, and Ed – ultimately – had no use for this part of Oswald. Maybe – too – seeing a reminder of the fact that Oswald was an actual person with his own motivations and feelings kindles some guilt, because Ed hits the table and yells:

I admit that killing you killed part of me – but I will find a way forward and be reborn!

The hallucination yells after him, but is breaking down now, more obviously just a projection of Ed’s insecurities – talking about Oswald in the third person

Penguin saw you Ed - he made you. There’s no Ed Nygma without Penguin!

Maybe try taking just half of one of those pills, Ed?

GCPD – where Lee is examining the corpse. Lucius points out that Lee worked at Arkham, and asks for her insight – why would a killer do this? Lee replies that we all want answers to the same big questions. Who am I? Will anyone ever love me? Some people seek answers in a logical way….

While others stuff Harvey Bullock’s badge inside a dead body.

Lucius courteously thanks Lee before leaving, using her professional title.

At the academy, Harvey rehearses a bad speech. Ed sidles up to him. Harvey asks what the hell he’s doing there. Ed comments that – as GCPD seemingly can’t locate the mayor – he’s here to address the cadets on his behalf. Harvey bridles at the suggestion of Ed – a cop killer – addressing the cadets. Ed is irritated by this:

How is the view from the moral high ground, Harvey?

Harvey’s phone rings. It’s Lucius. Ed grins...

Must be about me

…and lurches forward to grab Harvey and – presumably – chloroform him.

Sitting on some stairs in the city, Bruce reads Selina’s note. He hears a fight and goes to see what’s happening.

I remember you - Bruce Wayne

It’s Sonny Gilzean, who asks if he has money, and makes to mug him.

Selina appears and tells him to back off

Bruce says he’s here to talk. Selina isn’t – she’s looking for Sonny – with whom she’s got business. Bruce proceeds to put his foot in it.

He’s a thief - you can't trust him.

Selina icily responds that she’s a thief too. Bruce tries to apologise.

Sorry – I should have told you I suspected your mother

Selina doesn’t want to hear it – but can’t quite manage to restrain a backhanded attempt to protect him.

Go home – you don't belong here

Bruce asks why she asked him here at all. Selina says she didn’t – and tells him not to come looking for her again.

Sonny says it’s too bad his girlfriend left.

I don't think she's my girlfriend

Me neither

Bruce takes more of a beating before rallying.

Graduation ceremony. Ed takes the stage and banters a little. Harvey’s all tied up. They all look dandy.

How do I look?

He riddles at them

Light as a feather- but no man can hold it long. What am I?

The audience of cadets mutters, and wonders if they can legally shoot him now or have to wait until after the ceremony.

Ed loses his temper and delivers the answer while rolling out gas canisters.

Your breath

He laughs, and leaves.

Meantime Lucius arrives and encounters another telegram. He talks to Ed on the phone

Foxy? How’d you know it was me?

Only one person refers to me as Foxy

(Oh dear – a special nickname. That sound in the distance is someone, somewhere, launching a ship. Ed helps the launch along by demanding Lucius’ undivided attention)

Come upstairs and play a game with me for the antidote. Come along, or Harvey and the cadets all die.

Lucius runs upstairs to find Harvey tied to a chair and perched on the banister. He asks if he’s OK. Ed removes Harvey’s gag to let him answer. Harvey tells him not to try to outsmart ‘this lunatic’ - cadets lives at stake.

Lucius ignores him.

Let’s begin.

Ed smiles widely.

Wonderful.

If Lucius can get just one, everyone lives. Lose – and they all die.

(To save my wrists, and because the riddles are giffed elsewhere – I’m not typing them all out in full)

Ed offers the first riddle. Lucius answers ‘love’ – but the answer was ‘loneliness’. Ed is enraged.

How do you not know that?

He cuts a rope. Harvey panics and pleads.

No – Nygma, no.

Another.

I’m a member of a group – but can never blend in

Lucius answers ‘snowflake’

Ed screams in rage

‘Individual’

Lucius remonstrates.

Snowflake is also a suitable answer.

Ed wants his answer – though. He becomes very agitated, and cuts another rope. Harvey is frightened, and pleads again.

I'm sorry - oh god

Ed is arguing with himself now. Oswald was right -he's was the only one. He wheels suddenly to point confront Lucius. No! It's just you - you aren’t a good enough enemy

Lucius stays calm, and listens to what Ed says – so when Ed starts his next riddle….

I feel your every move. I’m with you through birth, and I’ll see you rot

He’s able to interrupt, unsettling Ed. He keeps his tone controlled and soft. Curious, more than anything

What did you do Ed, what happened to Penguin?

Ed falters.

Did you kill him? You did, didn’t you?

Ed is repeating the riddle compulsively now – almost like it will calm him.

Lucius answers:

A reflection

Ed’s smile contains genuine joy

Correct

Ed walks away without enacting any of his revenge. He wants to be understood more than to kill

Unfortunately, the rope frays anyway – and Harvey is caught by Lucius before he can topple down the stairs.

Back in the city, Bruce's nose is bleeding. He stops at a convenient mirror in an alley – only to see his double appear behind him, which is still less scary than BOB.

You

Good to see you too

Bruce says his double sent the note – and notices that he’s dressed identically to him.

Yes - like looking into a mirror.

Bruce 2 lunges forward and plunges the syringe into Bruce’s neck

This is what I was made for - to be Bruce Wayne.

Back at the hunting lodge. Jim doesn’t want to believe what he’s hearing.

How could my father have been part of this?

Frank protests. At the time, they were proud to join - thought we were going to do good. He claims now, though, to be disenchanted. He despises them. Jim’s father saw through their lies earlier – but Frank didn’t listen until it was too late. The Court killed him.

Jim can’t hear this. He denies it - adamant. He was there. It was an accident. A drink driver.

I was in the wreck. I watched him die.

Oh Jim.

Frank says staging a crash is simple business for the Court.

Why now, Jim wants to know – 20 years later? Where have you been? Where were you when my mom and I needed you?

Franks said the Court sent him abroad to prove loyalty. Jim asks why he would prove loyalty to group that murdered his brother? Frank says he chose to live. Now, though - they want Jim to join. He wants Jim to help him succeed where others have failed. He wants to bring the Court down and return the rule of democracy and law to Gotham. Jim asks why he should believe him.

You have to believe in something

Wayne Manor kitchens. Alfred listens to a radio report of Ed’s exploits which tells people to look out for a man in a green suit. Should probably also mention cheekbones. Look out for a guy wearing a green suit, with cheekbones that could cut glass, probably having a conversation with himself.

Bruce 2 enters. Alfred asks how Selina was. Bruce 2 smarmily responds.

Selina Selina

Alfred smiles, and offers shepherd’s pie. Bruce says that sounds delicious. Alfred looks momentarily suspicious – because shepherd’s pie plainly isn’t delicious – and claiming it is means you’re definitely an evil doppelganger.

He masks his uncertainty quickly

Jolly good - won't be a mo.

A swat team invades Van Dahl mansion. Ed’s gone, though. We see the portrait again.

In the street. Lucius gets into his car. Ed pops up from the back seat.

Hello Foxy

Lucius seems unruffled. So - the antidote turned out to be grape juice, and the deadly toxin was knock-out gas.

Ed says the whole point was to play a game, not kill people. Lucius points out,

But you killed Penguin and Prof Dyson.

Ed frowns.

Have you always been Foxy?

Lucius says he’s not sure what he means. Ed elaborates.

All my life - I felt like someone was inside of me. Someone stronger and smarter, that people would fear. No one else saw that.

Lucius interrupts,

Except Penguin

Ed agrees – a moment of sadness on his face

Except Oswald.

But he killed Oswald because Oswald killed the woman he loved

Lucius asks if that’s what Ed thinks he’ll do now Oswald’s gone - fill that role - to be a reflection (‘a friend is, as it were, a second self’). Ed says no – though.

I know who I am. I know how to be him.

He smiles as he puts a gun to Lucius’ head – and thanks him for the part he played in that.

Lucius points out how reckless Ed’s actions are. He’s honestly worried and pitying, and tells Ed that any part of him that isn’t insane needs to listen to him.

You need help. Turn yourself in.

Ed’s smile fades.

My actions seem mad to you

Lucius nods.

To anyone

Ed swallows.

I - I killed the best friend I’ve ever had. My search for a teacher or enemy…that was just me trying to hold on to him for a little bit longer. (Interesting that Ed is able to reflect honestly when confronted with genuine, calm concern)

But now I know who am without him

So who are you now?

Come on, Foxy. I’m The Riddler.

He wallops Lucius on the head with his gun, and then leans back, laughing to himself.

Ed is at the pier with Oswald. Ed tells the hallucination that his friendship meant something to him. He cared about Oswald, and he misses him.

Oswald is sour

Gee. That almost makes up for being dead.

(An aside - Ed’s admission isn’t exactly surprising. I've said before that while Ed was extremely manipulative, and fostered dependency from Oswald - I honestly think that Ed - being utterly convinced of his own judgment above anyone else's - felt that this was fine, because he was acting in Oswald's own best interests. Oswald is the only friend Ed ever had, and that was meaningful to him.

As Oswald points out though - while it's nice that Ed gets his emotional closure, it doesn't make Oswald any less shot. In the same way, Ed’s retconning of Kristin's death into his 'becoming' doesn't make her any less strangled. In a way, it serves to make Ed more frightening. He can feel genuine love or friendship for someone, but he equally has the capacity to knowingly hurt that person, to frighten them, and to take their life from them. That he can then package it neatly into something that suits him psychologically just feels like one last violation, someone's personhood taken away, and their life considered only in terms of how it served Ed's needs.)

The hallucination points out that all GCPD is hunting him, and no one is going to be afraid of The Riddler.

Ed smiles. They will be. Kneeling at the edge, he tips the pills into the water. Looking round, he sees he is alone, and smiles. He bids Oswald goodbye before donning a bowler hat and striding away.

Ivy is misting lots of pot plants in a room which also contains a bed, which also contains one Oswald Cobblepot. Oswald is waking up

Well - looks who's alive.

Oswald asks who she is.

Ivy Pepper, stupid.

Confused, Oswald asks if they know each other. Ivy tells him she pulled him out of the river – and has been nursing him for weeks. It’s pretty boring – he sleeps a lot. She then frowns, noticing that Oswald looks strange. Like he’s going to puke. She asks if he’s OK. Oswald’s possibly confused at being rescued and nursed out of simple altruism for once, as opposed to being shot full of drugs and relentlessly manipulated.

Oswald smiles, and his jangly signature music kicks in.

I just remembered – there’s someone I need to kill

You go, sweetie.

At the miserable cabin. Jim brings back wood for the fire. He calls for his uncle, but he’s gone, leaving a family photograph with a message written on the back:

Help me honour his memory.

At the Court, Katherine is enquiring how things went. Frank says Jim’s interest is piqued, but convincing him will take time. Katherine says they don’t have time, and that the clone is in place. Bruce Wayne is waking up as they speak.

And he is. Bruce sees bright lights and wakes up in a cell, in weird woollen pyjamas. Going to the window, he looks out to an arctic looking landscape.

I apologise - I’m not myself these days.

This has always been the problem for Ed, who has struggled for as long as we’ve known him to have a coherent sense of self. Shot through with self-hatred, parts of his psyche splinter off and manifest as other people – usually berating him, mocking him for his failure to be a better self – this other, buried person he feels he’s supposed to be – that he sometimes glimpses in other people, like Lucius, or Jim.

Unsure of how to embody this better self – Ed looked for a guide. He thought that was Oswald, but Oswald failed him, and was mercilessly discarded. He thinks defining himself against an enemy might help – and who better than Jim Gordon? But Jim, hilariously, manages to thwart Ed simply by being absent.

So Ed’s left with Lucius – which is fortunate for him – because Jim’s approach would have involved much less in the way of warm, calm compassion, and more in the way of punching. Lucius is perhaps the first person to express genuine, disinterested concern for Ed. He listens, and doesn’t mock. Ed, in turn, credits Lucius with helping him see who he is. As we leave him this episode, he has a renewed purpose and sense of who he is.

Jim’s dead father has always loomed large, and many of Jim’s interactions with authority figures are informed by that relationship – with Jim seeking out father figures, but then almost immediately being disappointed by them, and acting out in response. I wonder whether – on some level – Jim had an inkling of something being not quite right?

Whether he did or not, the revelations about his father will shake Jim’s sense of identity, and force him to question himself and his ideas. Already there’s a fundamental shift. He’s no longer the boy who witnessed his father’s accidental death. He’s now the boy who saw him murdered.

Bruce isn’t himself right now because he’s at odds with Selina – who acts as a counterbalance to him in many ways. Whether he can retain his sense of self in the face of whatever training he seems to have been forcibly sent on remains to be seen.

Bruce 2, meanwhile, is exultant. A lifetime of experimentation and prodding, and he finally gets to ‘be’ Bruce.

Oswald wasn’t Oswald for much of the episode, because what we saw was a fake – a projection of Ed’s insecurities, conjured up to help him cope with sadness at the loss of a friend. However, the Oswald we saw at the end – grinning and out for revenge – seems to have regained a more firm grip on his sense of self.

General Observations

All-round enjoyable episode, I thought. Lucius is warm, thoughtful, curious, respectful, and intelligent – and great to watch. His interactions with Harvey and Lee offer something a little different. His scenes with Ed, though, were really the highlight. There’s a genuine connection there that will hopefully be developed more.

Butch, Barbara and Tabitha were conspicuous by their absence. All we can take from this is that Barbara has not made good on her promise to kill Ed – despite some weeks having passed – and that this is likely having an effect on that relationship.

Jim’s in a pretty vulnerable place right now. Still smarting – we assume – from the aftermath of the triangle of tedium, he’s now on very treacherous ground, being either guided or manipulated by an Uncle whom he resents for abandoning him after his father’s death.

Also dealing with parental abandonment twice over is Selina. She seems hard and uncaring right now – trying to go back to her old life like Bruce never existed – trying to protect herself.

An Ivy/Oswald friendship would be great. They’re both – as discussed elsewhere – perceived as odd outsiders, both (for different reasons) childlike adults. Oswald never forgets slights, but he never forgets a good turn either – and Ivy selflessly cared for him for weeks.

First confirmed non-sighting of Victor. I’m watching you, show.

Thoughts?

#Gotham commentary #how the riddler got his name #gotham 3:20

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anthonychurch97-blog · 8 years ago

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MY ALBUM REVIEW OF BIG SEAN’S “I DECIDED.”

Big Sean - “I Decided.” Album Review

After the success of his third album “Dark Sky Paradise” and last year’s “TWENTY88” project with Jhené Aiko, Big Sean has returned with his fourth album “I Decided.”. The concept of the project is Sean viewing his life from an old man’s perspective and getting a chance at a do over in life. After a string of solid releases at the end of 2016 Sean has set up a great campaign for the project and has really built hype around it. It had received praise from many of the industries top names over the past few months as well. A mixture of turn up and story telling is the best way to some up the expectations I have for the project based on what I’ve heard so far. With great producer and artist features including a collab with fellow Detroit MC Eminem this could very well be Sean’s greatest work yet. Here is my track by track review.

Light (feat. Jeremih) - The chill vibe of “Light” is a great starting point for the project. Sean takes it as an opportunity to talk on political issues, oppression, and more trials while at the same time reminding listeners to be true to themselves and never lose site of what’s right in life. Jeremih’s vocals cut through as a great addition and give this intro an added element. The layed back keys will give you chills as well as inspiration. This could be the beginning of a potential classic for Sean.

Bounce Back - As the lead single “Bounce Back” has been making its rounds since October. The track really fits the context of the album as its topic matter really taps into the do over in life. Learning how to take an L is one thing but bouncing back is another and this track does it quite well. With a turn up drum heavy beat Sean finds a comfortable flow and runs with it. Additional vocals by Kanye are just an added bonus to the record. While “Bounce Back” may never be considered a classic jam, I can see it getting many plays for years to come.

No Favors (feat. Eminem) - Over hard production from the likes of WondaGurl, Sean recruits his fellow Detroit alum Eminem for some heavy bars. Sean finds his flow quickly with the hook and first verse. Sean hits on some good points like his grandmothers influence, the water crisis in Flint, and his come up in Detroit. Eminem comes in on his classic aggressive style with some crazy lines about being the Aaron Hernandez of rap and shots at Donald Trump just to name a few. It’s nice to see Em over somewhat of an unconventional style track for him to be on and he fits it very well. This is one you’ll definitely have to hear for yourself but it is for sure a banger and should be on repeat for quite some time. So far it’s smooth sailing for “I Decided”.

Jump Out the Window - When it comes to the second chance theme a great example comes on this cut where Sean is ready to change the past by getting with the girl he never did. He talks to her about her relationship problems with her current partner and how every time he tried to help her she shut him out. Weather this is about a real life situation or now it sure seems like it’s about someone in particular. A bouncy Key Wane beat sets a scene for Sean to tell this story and get off some pent up emotions. It’s one of my personal favorites so far from this album.

Moves - Released in late December “Moves” already has an accompanying video and has caught people’s eye. The heavy bass production from 808 Mafia’s Fuse is a great example of Sean using more modern sounding records while also sticking to some positive topic matter. “Moves” itself serves as what it’s name suggests as more of a dance hit slash banger. However Sean’s lyrical ability is showcased as well with great bars about his aim for success and overcoming struggles. As the shortest song on the project “Moves” might not stand out as much but it is a solid cut and it’s easy upon listen to see why it made the album.

Owe Me - Following a short TWENTY88 track with Jhené Aiko comes the DJ Mustard laced “Owe Me”. A layed back track about finally letting go of a relationship that’s gone on too long. Sean realizes he is done trying and is ready to move on with his life while keeping a carefree attitude. I wasn’t feeling this much on first listen but it has grown on me more and more. Some different mic techniques are used toward the end of the song along with some soft horns and I can feel the Travis Scott influence here. It’s a nice chill record that should catch more air plays as the year progresses.

Halfway Off the Balcony - The production skills of Amaire Johnson show up here with a nice beat and great key work. Sean comes to the realization how important his relationship connections are. He gets that it has more to do with compatibility on a mental level than anything physical. He takes the opportunity to also thank his dad for great advice and hoping he is living life to the fullest. The deep meaning of the song is a perfect representation of the albums theme of doing things right in your life and taking advantage of each day. I believe this track will be one of Sean’s more underrated hits for years to come.

Voices In My Head / Stick To The Plan - This two part banger is one of the more memorable moments from “I Decided”. It features Sean locked in an inner conflict with himself questioning his every move and allowing the voices in his head to affect his judgement. Halfway through however during a crazy Metro Boomin beat switch the attitude switches as well. Sean overcomes the voices to remind himself to stick to the plan and keep moving forward. At the end of the day he trusts his own judgment enough to realize it will lead him to the right place. This is a fantastic record in my opinion and is worth a listen whenever it comes on. This one will catch a listeners attention for sure.

Sunday Morning Jetpack (feat. The-Dream) - The emotional chords on “Sunday Morning Jetpack” allow Sean to speak on his longing for his family again. He talks about missing the simple days with his grandma and mom and the memories they used to share. The-Dream adds guest vocals for a short time toward the end and does a great job as usual. It’s safe to say this could be “I Decided”’s version of Sean’s song “Memories” which is considered one of his classics. Either way this song will tug at your heart strings for sure.

Inspire Me - “Inspire Me” takes the energy from “Sunday Morning Jetpack” and runs with it. In a similar fashion Sean uses this song as an ode to his mom. He gives listeners a flashback of what life was like growing up with his mom and how she has inspired him in everything he has done even if he doesn’t always admit it. It’s Sean’s version of a “Hey Mama” kind of record and similar to that one this is also effective. I’m sure this song makes him mom proud for sure and is another solid offering from this album.

Sacrifices (feat. Migos) - Sean keeps the heavy hitters going on “Sacrifices”. Going in on the crazy beat Sean speaks on giving up so much to achieve his dreams and get to this point of his career. He calls upon Offset and Quavo of the Migos to lay killer verses of the same message. This is another banger that should receive praise from modern rap fans while also carrying a good message to people.

Bigger Than Me (feat. The Flint Chozen Choir & Starrah) - As a triumphant finish to “I Decided.” Is track “Bigger Than Me” which caps off the project in a great fashion. Sean realizes his success has more to do with the people around him than himself at all. He remembers performing for his home town and loving to make them proud. Along with Starrah and The Flint Chozen Choir the song is a new Detroit anthem. Sean ends the track and album with audio of a phone call with his mother where he explains the in a nutshell the albums concept and Sean becomes his older self again. “Bigger Than Me” is in my top three cuts from “I Decided.” at the moment and is recommended if you want some inspiration.

Summary - I have nothing but praise for Big Sean on this new album. He continues to inspire listeners with great lyrics and topic matter and while this album took a slightly different approach with the beat selection it was still very effective. The production was on point from start to finish as well and I was very impressed once again with the rollout of the project. Everything from the artwork to the overall theme behind it was great. To me more people should look at Sean as a top artist especially after they hear this album. He continues to evolve as an artist and make better material with each release. Be sure to support Sean and buy “I Decided.” on iTunes. Thanks for reading.

#big sean #i decided #album review #2017 #good music

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etraytin · 8 years ago

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The Very Last Fic-A-Day Fic of the Day

IT’S FINALLY HERE! THE TIME LONG PROPHESIED IS UPON US! On September 27th, 2016, I posted the first in a series of short prompt-fics designed to give me a short break between Part I and Part II of Such A Winter’s Day, because the end of Part I had been so angsty. I had a great time writing them, and came up with the idea that maybe I could do one every day until the upcoming election, as a way to deal with my freefloating political anxiety in a constructive and pleasing way. Thus the 42-Day-Fic-a-Day-Til-The-Election was born. It was fun! I wrote a bunch of stories, did a bunch more chapters of SAWD, started up a couple new continuing stories, answered a lot of prompts. On November 9, I posted Doctor’s Orders, which was the first Very Last Fic of the Fic-A-Day, posted a cheerful message to my readers, and went to do phone banking.

You guys all know what happened next. God knows I hate thinking about it. But on November 10, it occurred to me that if I stopped writing West Wing fic, I didn’t know when or how I would be able to start again. The idea of finding hope or meaning or even sense in politics seemed impossible. But in doing the Fic-a-Day, I’d remembered my love of writing, and redoubled my love of the fandom, and I wasn’t going to let that be taken away from me. So I wrote Still Here, posted it, and made a promise that I wasn’t going anywhere. The Fic-a-Day continued, this time with an open end date.

I have loved every day of the Fic-a-Day, and if I had but worlds enough and time, I’d continue it indefinitely. But I am tired, and my muse is stressed, and there are stories I want to tell that I can’t write even a chapter of in a single day. Today, January 4, 2017, is Day 100, and that is a good day to stop. Counting the chapters of SAWD and the single other story I did before the Fic-a-Day, I have written 305,000 words in the fandom. I’m not done writing, not by a long shot, so keep sending me your prompts and messaging me about the show. I love to talk with people!

And now, without further ado, today’s fic is from a prompt by Yorkiemusketeer, who asked for a mid-post episode for Transition: the hours before Josh and Donna get on the plane, how he asks her, what the plane ride is like. Hope you enjoy! .................

Josh understood what was happening as soon as they arrived in Washington DC, when Donna moved in with CJ instead of staying with him. People sometimes accused him of being an idiot when it came to women, of a level of blind incompetence that was frankly rather unflattering, but just because he made a lot of objectively terrible decisions during the course of his relationships with women didn't make him completely unable to decipher their thoughts and actions. Women were people, just like politicians were people, and it was his job to understand hidden motivations and unspoken words. When Donna refused to make herself readily available and instead said they needed a way to navigate their situation, it was pretty much the exact equivalent of scheduling lunches with him.

He'd be lying if he said the situation didn't unnerve him. They'd been in this boat once before, and she'd bailed, and it had overturned the whole damn thing. Matt Santos might not be president-elect today if Josh had kept even one of those eight broken lunch dates, so obviously they were pretty important. He knew that this time he couldn't weasel out again. That had been poorly done of him last time, and even if he still thought quitting without notice had been a severe overreaction, a little time and distance had given him perspective. Donna was a person who needed the people in her life to confirm her value. Ignoring her when she'd needed to talk about important things minimized that value, left her angry and hurt instead. He didn't want to do that again, he owed her better than that. If nothing else, not taking the time for her when he was sleeping with her really would make him no better than one of her old boyfriends, and he didn't think he could countenance being added to the Gomer List.

At the same time, though, getting together with her and actually talking was a lot easier said than done. Part of it was the sheer logistics of transition. There weren't enough hours in the day for sleeping or eating or grabbing regular enough showers, much less sitting down with one's... Donna and figuring out what exactly she was to him and vice versa. That had always been one of the good things about Donna, she'd always just been there and it had never been complicated, right up until that hadn't been enough anymore. Now she wanted things from him, and it made him feel like an asshole not just because he wasn't sure he could give them to her, but because it made him realize that if he couldn't give her this little bit, then what he'd been giving her before was basically nothing. But it was like Lou said, people like him didn't have lives, they had politics. They had legacies and memoirs and, he was increasingly certain, terminal cases of acid reflux, but lives were for the people who weren't out making things happen.

When Donna had come to his apartment and hadn't made him talk, that had been perfect. He knew exactly how to be with her when they were just being together. Some deep part of him resonated to the beat of her heart and the movements of her body, like she was the metronome that kept him in time. But actually saying that aloud would sound ridiculous or worse, and god's honest truth, he didn't know what else to say. Part of him was ready to put a ring on her finger right away with no thought at all; eight years of waiting was more than enough even if it hadn't all been roses. Part of him wanted her to join his staff so he could see her every day but have four or eight more years before he had to sort this out. Part of him wanted to just bury himself in her so deeply that he never had to come out and face the world again.

No part of him was ready for her to sit him down first thing in the morning when his brain was full of fog and Congressional talking points, look him in the eye with that oh-so-loving-and-serious face and tell him that if he wanted to keep her, he had to get the hell off the dime. Or words to that effect. He could tell she'd practiced the words; she had a particular way of storing up and reciting little speeches on things that were important to her, but it was still mostly babble to him. Four weeks, that part definitely stuck in his head. Four weeks to figure out what to do with Donna, when he'd spent nine years already wracking his brains about it. He was still staring at her dumbly when she gave him a really spectacular kiss and gone off to work before he could do more than babble out a goodbye.

Work that day was a disaster in progress, like every day of transition had been so far. CJ was warmer to him than she had been lately, and he could tell she was already looking to the end of the road. Getting her for the new administration would be quite a coup, despite the awkwardness of having a chief of staff and an ex-chief of staff, but he suspected that CJ wouldn't stay in Washington for love or money after January 20th. She was good at covering, but she was tired and she wanted out. Like the MS fight, but this time there was nobody to haul her back from the edge. Josh felt a little bad about that, but he had more than enough troubles of his own. He felt a little less bad later after her bitch-fit about Kazakhstan, no matter how justified she might have been in her tirade at the President-Elect. Nobody got to yell at Josh's guy that way but him.

Josh didn't get a chance to talk to Donna at all that day, but that did gave him a few seconds to think about what he was going to do with her. The deputy press secretary job was still open under Lou and whoever Lou put into the press secretary slot, almost certainly Edie Ortega. Josh wasn't sure what the job entailed, but it couldn't be that difficult; CJ had gone through like three of them and he had no idea what any of them even looked like. Deputy press secretary wasn't enough for Donna, wasn't close to what she was worth, but maybe with a lower-pressure job she could finally finish college and in a couple years Josh could let Sam go back to doing whatever Sam was doing in California and make her his actual deputy for real. That honestly didn't feel like enough either, but it was a plan, and a plan was good.

They met in the hallway between meetings, and it took her less than thirty seconds to completely destroy the plan. Not only had she been offered a much better job in the East Wing, chief of staff to Helen Santos, but she assured him that no matter what, she wasn't going to work for him anymore. Josh couldn't fault Helen Santos for noticing talent when she saw it, but the idea that Donna wasn't going to work for him, would barely be working near him, was vaguely panic-inducing. Josh knew she was looking for reassurance, waiting for him to say that of course they couldn't work together because they were going to be something else to each other now, but he wasn't anywhere near ready for that talk. Instead he told her that a month wasn't long enough, there was too much going on, what they had between them was too complicated, and he just wasn't going to be able to do it. He was having flashbacks to college, throwing himself on the mercy of a professor for just one little extension, just this once. But she was intractable. This was one lunch she wasn't going to reschedule for him.

Three weeks and six days to plan the rest of his life. Ten weeks to plan the future of the country. Twenty-four hours to figure out how to rein in the president-elect on foreign policy before CJ took Josh's head completely off, perhaps literally, perhaps to present on a platter to President Bartlet like some modern-day Salome. And maybe at some point he ougtht to sleep as well, but that was entirely negotiable until the actual hallucinations started. In any case, he was in a pretty bad mood by the time Otto had the tremendously bad fortune to try and update his Blackberry. Even as he was yelling, Josh knew he was going too far, knew Leo would've had him up by the scruff of the neck and be demanding what the hell he was doing, but somehow he couldn't seem to stop. The fact that Otto wouldn't stand up against him was just as infuriating as anything else; how could the kid expect to survive in a town like this if he wasn't made of iron from day one? This place was brutal and it would steal everything and leave you an empty husk, and if ittle-bitty Otto couldn't handle it then maybe he should get the hell out of town before January.

It was Sam who intervened in Leo's place, Sam who gave Josh the come-to-Jesus talk (so to speak), Sam who issued another, even harder-lined, ultimatum. It seemed to be Josh's week for ultimatums. It made him wonder if that's what it had really come to, that the people he was closest to were having to put it all on the line just in the hopes of reaching him. Was he really so far gone? He thought of his conversation with Lou, thought about his conversation with Donna in the hallway, and realized it was probably true. When Sam walked out, shutting the door softly behind him, Josh just stared after him for a long minute. Was this what he'd come to, yelling at helpless subordinates because he felt out of control himself? Making Donna an insulting job offer just to keep her neither too close nor too far away, risking the end of a relationship he couldn't afford to lose because he was afraid to just say what he was feeling? Being chief of staff to Matt Santos was surely going to be the first line of his obituary at this point, but at this rate it was going to be the only line. That wasn't what he wanted. Josh picked the Blackberry up, turned it over in his hands, then set it down firmly on his desk and went to find Sam.

Two hours later, Josh stopped by Donna's desk as she was putting together housing notes for the First-Lady-in-Waiting. She was incredibly organized, lists arranged in neat folders, everything in the exact right place and doubtlessly meticulously researched. She would be a good chief of staff, he realized. Probably a lot better at the everyday COS duties, the schedule-juggling and the gatekeeping, than he himself was going to be, even if she'd need to play catch-up for awhile on the politics. “Hey,” he began, his voice catching just a little bit. He cleared his throat when she looked up. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

She looked up at him, her eyes full of the emotions he was just starting to be able to read again after their long separation. Caution, plenty of that. Donna had become very cautious about a lot of things in the last year and a half. He hated that for her, but it would probably serve her well as she spread her wings in this nasty town. Under the caution, though, was hope. She was still waiting for him to get himself together, she still had faith he was going to do it. Just seeing it was enough to smooth the ragged edges of his nerves from the meeting with the President-elect. “Sure,” she told him easily, rising and following him to his office. “What's up?”

He closed the door, checked that the blinds were already drawn. “I told you earlier that I didn't think four weeks was enough time,” he started. “I changed my mind. I want you to give me one week.”

She blinked in surprised puzzlement. “Josh, what-”

“Please,” he interrupted. “I need one week from you. One week of your time, you and me, going someplace and doing all the talking that we should be doing and never have the time to do. And maybe other stuff too, like vacation stuff and beach stuff, all those things you always want to do when we're campaigning in California or Florida and there's never any time. Or hell, we'll go somewhere that we can ski, there's gotta be tons of ski places open, right? It's fucking January!”

He closed the distance between them, wrapped his hands very gently around her wrists. “This could be the most important thing either of us are ever going to do, and it deserves time and thought and talking,” he insisted. “You're right that we're never gonna do it here, so let's do it somewhere else. Wherever you want to go.”

Her hands were warm in his, her eyes intent as she searched his face, trying to tell if he was serious or not. “You really mean it,” she said, mostly not a question. “The President-Elect?”

“Swear to god,” Josh promised. “I talked to him, I talked to Sam. One week, just for us.”

She smiled at him then, and while it was a little too uncertain to be her full sunshine smile, he could feel the warmth and promise of a new day in it. “Wow,” she murmured. “I mean... wow. When do we go?”

“Tonight,” he told her, bouncing a little on his heels. Now that she'd all but said yes, the idea was really growing on him. “Why wait any longer? It's not like it's going to get any easier the longer we wait? And for god's sake, I kind of think we've waited long enough, don't you?”

Her eyes widened as she considered all the many things that would probably have to happen to make a trip happen tonight, but she didn't say no. Josh counted that as an extremely good sign. “Tonight?” she repeated. “Oh my god... I have to talk to Mrs. Santos, and pack, and tell CJ I'm going and-”

“And pick a place,” Josh reminded her. “I've got a travel agent waiting for the word.” He grinned at her. “There's a thirteen hour flight to Hawaii leaving at nine tonight. Once you figure in all the time zones we're flying through, we could be there in time for breakfast on the beach.” He counted her squeal and enthusiastic kiss as a yes. It was close enough for government work.

It was possible, remotely possible, that neither Sam nor Josh nor the President-Elect had fully considered the amount of planning to be done before a weeklong vacation, especially one that was being embarked upon with barely five hours notice. Josh had some kind of ultra-mega-golden frequent flier miles status after the campaign, and he suspected it was the only reason the travel agent didn't laugh in his face when he told her what he wanted. But he got the tickets, and he got a suite at what had better be an extremely nice hotel considering how much it was going to cost, and he got home with just enough time to shower, change his clothes, and put his very small amount of casual clothing into a suitcase. He was going to have to buy a swimsuit in Hawaii. Donna's end of the planning was a little more complicated than that, judging by her slightly wild-eyed look and two full suitcases when he met her at the airport, but after that, the rest was out of their hands and it was time to relax.

The flight got off only five minutes behind schedule, practically a miracle at National, and by the time they reached cruising altitude, both of them were ready for vacation. Josh put up the armrest to let Donna lean against him, just like they used to do on the campaign buses back in the old days. The caffeine was beginning to seep out of his system, leaving him jittery and nervous, his stomach churning with too much acid. Donna ordered ginger ale for both of them and produced a sleeve of saltines from her bag, the same prescription she'd been using on him for years. This time she ate some of the crackers too, coping with her own stomach acid and blood-caffeine level. They made stupid jokes about airline peanuts and guys on the wing, then Donna showed him the travel guide to Hawaii she'd picked up at the airport. She had big plans, enough plans for two trips to Hawaii. It was probably some cunning feint to secure a second trip. He found himself strangely comfortable with the thought.

Josh eventually fell asleep where he sat, head lolling forward unceremoniously as weeks of stress and grief and exhaustion caught up all at once. When he woke, hours later, he was leaning against her where she leaned against him, asleep with her hand on his chest. The lights in the cabin were dim, noises muffled by cabin pressure and the overwhelming sounds of the engine. They wouldn't be talking much tonight, not here, not while they were both so tired. But that was okay, because now there was time to think, time to sit down and actually have a real conversation.

It was especially okay because now, with Donna's head resting on his shoulder and one of her dreams unfolding in front of them, Josh finally knew what he wanted to say. Having the legacy was good, writing the memoirs was good. Hell, one day he'd kind of like to have the money too. But he couldn't picture any of it meaning anything if he got there alone. Figuring out a relationship across the wings of the White House would be tough, but they'd done tough things before. And having so much of his future tied up in one person was only scary if he didn't trust that person to handle it. Donna was probably better prepared and more qualified to be in charge of the rest of his life than he was himself, but that wasn't her style. Just being there would be enough for both of them.

Josh yawned and pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, smelling the citrus scent of her shampoo and the warmth of her skin. She mumbled something unintelligible in her sleep and snuggled in closer, her fingers tangling in the front of his shirt. With a sigh, he rested his cheek against her hair and closed his eyes again. They had plenty of time.

(This fic is also archived at AO3, same author name, with the title “Fortuna Audaces Iuvat.”)

#the west wing #fanfiction #josh x donna #transition #fic-a-day #100th fic #it means fortune favors the bold

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thepapermixtape · 7 years ago

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FYF Review

By: Cam Vernali and Ciara Mandich

Crowd surfing at FYF

Introduction

Music festivals teeter on the fine line between popularity and niche markets — too many popular headliners, and you got yourself a Top 40s playlist devoid of any personality. On the other hand, too many niche bands run the risk of alienating festival-goers. The lineup itself is only one part of the larger event at hand; when you factor in the setup of the festival itself, the vibe of the crowd, and other uncontrollable factors, there are numerous ways a festival can turn out. As someone who has been through a range of good and not-so-good experiences at music festivals, I can vouch for the fact that a thoroughly enjoyable festival is hard to find.

Whereas other music festivals could have faltered under the pressure of such large headliners, FYF created a music-going experience that was easily enjoyable and entertaining due to a well-planned format and a wide diversity of genres. FYF brought a refreshing mix of music to Exposition Park for the weekend, allowing widely-recognized names to draw in crowds while a cohesive mix of R&B, electronic, and garage rock bands kept the energy going.

Homeshake performance

Colors in crowd

Friday

“This one will cool you down,” Dustin Payseur of Beach Fossils told the crowd before launching into “Sleep Apnea.” The alternative rock group performed at the Lawn Stage in front of a more mellow, laid-back audience — after all, it was only an hour into the extensive three-day long festival and the energy was just beginning to climb. Besides playing classics like “Calyer,” Beach Fossils also brought out Rachel Goswell of Slowdive to perform “Tangerine.”

A walk past merchandising tables and water-refilling stations led to the Trees Stage, where jazz trio BadBadNotGood played for 50 minutes. The surprise of the set was when rapper Denzel Curry came onstage to perform “Ultimate,” leaving the crowd more energized than before.

As the sun wound down, FYF gained a whimsical atmosphere as colorful lighting covered the festival in almost every casual sense. Blue and green lighting accompanied festival-goers as they walked around the Coliseum from stage to stage, striking a careful balance between being too faint or too overpowering.

Bjork was a much-anticipated act of the night, with Arca’s place as her DJ bringing the tunes in sync with sharp visuals ranging from peaceful landscapes to a pulsing heart. Bjork herself wore a multicolored frilled dress that contrasted against the squeaky “thank you’s!” she proclaimed after every song. Playing songs from “Isobel” to “Lionsong,” Bjork covered a whole spectrum of her discography. Watching the whole set was akin to watching a Planet Earth documentary: beautiful, emotionally moving, and a tad unbelievable.

Missy Elliott continued the strong female energy on the Main Stage, acting like queen of the stage and fittingly donning a hat with “Queen” on it. Elliott constantly called out for her “Missy fans from Day 1” before proceeding to play classics such as “Pass That Dutch” and “I’m Really Hot.” Of course, she didn’t go without the hits as her DJ and backup dancers helped bring the energy for “Get Ur Freak On” and “Lose Control.”

Whereas Missy Elliot got the crowd energy raised, Anderson Paak and the Free Nationals took that energy and ran with it. The entirety of the set was a fast-motion energetic whirlwind of Paak leading the crowd and his band through clean beats such as “Come Down.” Their rendition of “Glowed Up,” a song created in collaboration with Kaytranada, was cohesive and funky. Paak took the show up a level when he went to the drum kit halfway through “This Season / Carry Me” and continued to rap and drum for multiple songs, showing that his musical ability ranges across multiple facets of music.

There was only one way to end the first day, and that was with Flying Lotus. Three-dimensional glasses for FlyLo’s set were sent with every wristband; those who remembered to bring theirs took them out of pockets and bags as they waited for the set to begin, while others bought last-minute yellow-rimmed glasses nearby. As soon as Flying Lotus graced the stage, 3-D graphics added to the bass-heavy energy of the electronic music. Songs such as the Twin Peaks theme song and Thundercat’s “Friendzone” kept the energy high; multiple mentions were also made towards “Kuso,” Flying Lotus’ latest horror movie. While his set was impeccable, the jury is still out on “Kuso” — you’ll have to see that for yourself.

Friday was like the appetizer round of FYF; it had enough musical talent to bring forth an eventful day, but was nothing too physically or emotionally draining. That would be saved for Saturday, the day to buckle down and watch the emotional heavy-hitters.

Saturday

While Saturday would become reverent and touching as the day progressed, it started off in the Club Stage with only high spirits. Princess Nokia had a fully-hyped crowd within seconds of starting her performance. The 25-year old R&B singer started off with “Tomboy,” encouraging the audience to jump and dance along to the beat. She then launched into other high-energy songs such as “Kitana” and “G.O.A.T.” By thanking the crowd multiple times for performing at FYF and crowd surfing, Princess Nokia definitely left an impact on the Cub stage.

Over on the Lawn Stage, Thundercat kept his setup simple with just a three-piece ensemble; however, his personal appearance was anything but. Pink dreads and a bright purple robe kept all eyes on him. Thundercat’s hallmark jazz and R&B elements were heard throughout the set but especially during the improvisational points, which may have lost more casual fans but kept genuine followers firmly glued to their spot.

In case anyone needed a flashback to the mid-2000s, MGMT performed under the glaring sun to a crowd that ranged from old men to young teenage girls. At first, Andrew VanWyngarden and the rest of the band seemed out of place on the large Main Stage, but soon set into their groove after a couple of songs. Fan favorites such as “Kids” and “Electric Feel” were played and left almost everyone grooving to the beat, while newer songs such as “Michael and Me” only had a couple concertgoers dancing along.

London-based King Krule also created an eccentric look with bright orange neon shades as he cooly performed during sunset. Songs such as “Easy Easy” kept the crowd bopping their heads but pensive, a mood that is present in the most of the London musicians’ tunes. The gem of the set was when King Krule closed with “Baby Blue,” allowing for a brief but touching moment of FYF.

A Tribe Called Quest had a clear goal in mind for the night when they graced the Main stage: to honor Mailk Taylor aka Phife Dawg, a member of Tribe that recently passed last year. Q-Tip let the crowd know that this was the last Tribe Called Quest show in Los Angeles, further adding a sense of nostalgia and poignancy to the show. Although a Tribe Called Quest show without Phife is not truly the band at their finest, the constant honoring of Phife through pictures and shoutouts on stage gave the set a more meaningful atmosphere. The band also played groovy crowd favorites, such as “Electric Relaxation” and “We the People…”.

And then we come to the pinnacle of Saturday, if not all of FYF — Frank Ocean. After not performing in the US for four years and canceling his last FYF gig, whispers of Ocean not showing up at all hung in the air. But to silence all those fears came Frank, who walked onto the Main stage with an “Instant Karma” shirt and noise-canceling headphones he wore all night. Starting the show with “Solo” and then going straight to “Chanel” put Ocean in the driving seat.

Throughout the night, it was evident all the time and thought Ocean put into every inch of the set. A guest appearance by Brad Pitt was a humorous but wildly unexpected moment of the night, reinforcing the fact that the only one who can predict what will happen at a Frank Ocean show is Ocean himself. The whole set was arguably the most polished show from a festival I have ever seen — the audio was balanced and crisp, the visuals were simple yet powerful, the setlist was cohesive and flowed smoothly. There wasn’t a single fully dry eye in the radius of people around me, and justifiably so.

In all honesty, I wasn’t able to fully process all the music I had witnessed until about halfway through the walk exiting FYF. Saturday was about as jam-packed with once-in-a-lifetime musical concerts as one could possibly fathom, leaving me with a sense of disbelief that could only be shaken off with the high-energy day that Sunday would bring.

Sunday

Bringing garage punk to FYF was the job of Ty Segall, who rallied the Lawn stage midway on Sunday. Tunes such as “Finger on It” got the small mosh pit rowdy, while others standing nearby the stage got enough secondhand energy to power through the rest of Sunday.

A familiar face to FYF was Mac DeMarco, whose set on Trees signaled his fifth year at the festival. “Salad Days” was first up and pumped up the crowd. The rest of the set followed with a mixture of older and newer tunes from the Canadian singer. An unexpected break was when DeMarco covered “A Thousand Miles” by Vanessa Carlton but chose to repeat the lyric, “Making my way downtown” for the duration of the entire song. DeMarco then followed this up with a command for the audience to crowdsurf his friend Brandon during “Freaking Out the Neighborhood,” creating cheers and laughs.

Mura Masa followed DeMarco on the same stage, taking the energy from DeMarco’s set and elevating it to a punchier level. Bonzai, who sang on multiple tracks from the British electronic musician’s recent album, gave extra energy to the songs performed. “Love$ick” and “Firefly” got the crowd excited and dancing their hardest compared to any crowd I had seen over the weekend. The addition of live drums and guitar to Mura Masa’s tracks gave the electronic beats an edge that complimented the live vocals smoothly, creating richer songs with more depth than one would usually expect from an electronic show. The surprise of the set was when Desiigner came on to perform “All Around the World.”

6LACK was the final act on the Trees Stage and closed it out with a devoted crowd. After his hype man played high-energy songs such as Kendrick Lamar’s “HUMBLE” and Lil Uzi’s “XO Tour Lif3,” 6LACK walked onstage and dived straight into songs from his recent project “Free 6LACK.” It was his first time performing without the dreadlocks that has become his signature look, but one could not tell from his performance that anything was different; the transitions between songs were smooth and filled with personable tidbits, grounding 6LACK to the crowd. During the slower, more emotional songs, simple background graphics echoed a Vince Staples-esque setup; this changed when more hyped-up songs were performed, such as “PRBLMS.”

Ending FYF was done with the most seemingly random band of them all: Nine Inch Nails. After not playing live for three years, the band certainly did not miss a beat; they tore through their intense, hard-paced music without faltering. Included in their set was a tribute to David Bowie’s “Blackstar,” which was a softer mix-up for the industrial rock band but touching nonetheless. Fast guitars and drums matched their light and visual compositions, creating a cohesive set.

Sunday took the emotional heaviness and reverence of Saturday and flipped it on its head, creating a fast-paced but enjoyable and at times humorous ending to the weekend. Less packed than its Saturday counterpart, Sunday felt like it had more space to breathe and have lighthearted fun.

Conclusion

I have been to my fair share of musical festivals up until this point and experienced quite a number of exhausting moments through this process, so when I walked into FYF I had braced myself with low expectations of an average festival with above-average music. To my surprise, the festival setup itself was as enjoyable as the home-run lineup itself. FYF has nowhere to go in the coming years but to be bigger, better, and more memorable — as long as they don’t lose the aspects that make it an enjoyable festival to begin with.

Photos and Words by Cam Vernali Photos include: Preview, Friday, Sunday, and Conclusion pictures Photos by Ciara Mandich Photos include: Introduction and Saturday pictures

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sharma39999-blog · 8 years ago

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'Handmaid's Story' Stars, Director on Present's Startling Relevance and Season 2 Plans

Although Handmaid's Story is about in a dystopian alternate actuality, the story has by no means felt extra related. The echoes in Hulu's adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s best-selling 1985 novel is likely to be disconcerting to viewers in 2017 and that discomfort was at all times the intent.With solely 5 episodes launched — the sequence premiered with its first three episodes April 26 and now releases one every week on Wednesdays — Handmaid's Story has already turn into a essential favourite and scored an early second season renewal from the streamer. With a lot to unpack from the primary few episodes, stars Elisabeth Moss, Alexis Bledel and government producer Reed Morano seemed again on the creation of the sequence, digested how the present is enjoying in President Donald Trump's America and teased what to anticipate from the sophomore season throughout The Hollywood Reporter's TV Talks panel dialogue with senior movie reporter Tatiana Siegel on Wednesday night time."The story has at all times been well timed," defined Morano, who directed the primary three episodes. "All the pieces within the e book has occurred or is going on someplace on the planet proper now, and that is the way it was when Margaret wrote it."The story, instructed via the eyes of handmaid Offred (Moss) takes place in a modern-day however alternate world the place a plague of infertility has birthed a totalitarian society that forces fertile girls — the "handmaids" — to procreate for prosperous, barren households. "If three years in the past every part went south, that might be now in Handmaid's — so, three years from now," joked Morano of the present local weather.Via the eyes of Offred, Offglen (Bledel) and their fellow handmaids — the ladies are renamed when assigned to a household — viewers have seen Handmaid's Story sort out matters of institutionalized rape, physique mutilation, hangings and numerous different types of abuse. However not one of the harrowing occasions are manufactured. Talking on the 92nd Road Y in New York after a screening of the fifth episode, Morano reiterated to the packed viewers what showrunner Bruce Miller had defined to THR after Bledel's character was sentenced to "rehabilitation" and had her clitoris surgically eliminated for being homosexual: This horrific therapy happens right now, because it did 30 years in the past when Atwood wrote it, in different elements of the world.The primary 5 episodes have utilized flashbacks to exhibit how this fictional world, known as Gilead, went into such disarray, progressively changing girls's rights with a caste system and reversing human rights the place being homosexual — or a "gender traitor" — is unlawful, given the finally purpose of repopulation. "The entire message that Margaret was sending within the e book is that huge modifications like this do not occur in a single day, they occur very slowly over time, nearly in order that you do not know that they are occurring till it is too late," defined Morano. "We are usually just a little sheltered in America due to the rights that we do have and what we have all been used to. One of many issues I appreciated about doing this story is that I believed perhaps it should make individuals actually respect what they've."Nonetheless, when a protest for girls's rights seems all too acquainted, earlier than turning lethal, within the fourth episode simply as actual girls in Texas had been protesting anti-abortion payments whereas dressed within the handmaid's signature pink cloak uniform, Handmaid's Story is invoking Trump's America on a weekly foundation."He simply retains stepping proper into it," joked Moss, additionally a producer of the sequence, of the president. "It is one thing that we aren't precisely blissful about. It is unlucky that we have now to have that as a part of the dialog. We do not need this to be occurring. We do not need this to be fairly so related. However it's. And I believe for those who inform a narrative that sheds some mild on one thing that must be talked about then it makes your job all that extra gratifying."She continued, "You attempt to do your finest and make one thing you are happy with, however you may by no means anticipate the best way an viewers, or a rustic, goes to react to it, and that further stage that it is gone so far as changing into part of the dialog is one thing we could not have anticipated. And possibly finest that we did not."Moss knew the second she acquired the script that it was a undertaking she would remorse passing up, and she humbly revealed that she had a hand in bringing Bledel and Morano alongside, as she had crossed paths with each girls prior, Bledel on AMC's Mad Males. "I did not know if I needed to do one other sequence fairly so quickly, it had solely been a 12 months and a half since Mad Males completed," she defined. However when she learn the second episode script she mentioned her fast thought was, "Oh, f—." Whereas Bledel mentioned the rebellious streak is what drew her to the function: "You by no means know what will be written, it is a shock each episode."Each girls, nonetheless, relish within the present's fashion of close-ups, hyper-realism and focus on getting point-of-view pictures, a digital camera fashion meant to place the viewer in Offred's, and Offlgen's, footwear as seamlessly as potential. Morano revealed her tips of the commerce as to how she created so many "appropriately disturbing" scenes, such because the notorious "ceremony," a month-to-month ritual the place Offred is successfully raped by her Commander (Joseph Fiennes) whereas his spouse Serena Pleasure (Yvonne Strahovski) participates. "Simply whole and utter awkwardness and uncomfortable, unsettling, sickening — all the good belongings you need individuals to really feel from watching the present. All these issues somebody would really feel in these conditions for actual," Morano described as her intent. "It is utterly non-consensual," mentioned Moss of the ceremony, a biblical interpretation that calls for Offred lie between Serena Pleasure's legs whereas she and the Commander have intercourse. "It's absolute, one-thousand % a sexual assault. It's a rape. There isn't any method that she wouldn't be doing that, and in that place, if she had a selection. It was actually vital, and Reed had the job of exhibiting the ceremony for the primary time of the present — it was essential to us that it was under no circumstances sexual or consensual." That is why Moss made the choice that Offred, who typically narrates her internal monologue throughout the ceremony scenes, must depart her physique: "She must not be there with a view to not scream."So far as the violence of the present, Morano defined that simply because Handmaid's is a present predominantly about girls, the creators did not need anybody to suppose the "perhaps the present is not going to have balls" or that they might gloss over the fact they're making an attempt to convey. " was to not put up a wall between the viewers and the story and to make it really feel as actual as potential," she mentioned. "We're not making an attempt to glorify violence in any respect, but additionally guarantee that when the moments are uncooked and we're making an attempt to ship a message that folks obtain that message. ... It is actually f—ed up. These items occur in different nations and individuals ought to see that and not be shielded from it. It creates a sense in you and it mustn't make you're feeling good, however that is the purpose."In the course of the panel, the forged additionally revealed how Atwood's cameo got here collectively. The creator, who's a marketing consultant on the sequence, appeared as an Aunt, the ladies who prepare the handmaids, and slapped Moss' character throughout the face. "After just a few takes she gave me an actual wallop!" mentioned Moss, including that she volunteered herself to be on the receiving finish of Atwood's hand.Morano then revealed the one query Atwood had about episode two — one thing that drew a big giggle from the viewers. "She requested, 'What's a carpet muncher?'" Morano recalled. "One of many author's assistants needed to name Margaret and clarify it. I want I might have heard that."Atwood has additionally given her blessing for the present to increase the world she created on the web page for the second season — and presumably extra sooner or later. The third episode already noticed deviations from the e book and Bledel's character was expanded for the sequence."We do not wish to discover every part in a single season," mentioned Moss. "With season one, there was a lot overlooked to provide you extra time to totally discover just a few issues, slightly than cowl all 50 of them." Stressing that it is nonetheless early, because the writers are at the moment working on the second season scripts, Moss added, "The intention is to proceed to discover issues deeply and to actually give time. That is the nice factor you could have in a sequence that has a number of seasons that you are able to do."Moss continued, "There's an enormous hole between the epilogue and the top of the e book the place there's a variety of unanswered questions. There's a lot that hasn't been mentioned in that e book and we're seeking to discover that with Margaret."HuluThe Handmaid's StoryLet's block advertisements! (Why?) Supply: live_feed Click to Post

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