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flashflashhundredyarddash · 3 years

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batkids and their relationships with their siblings headcanons. under read more because this got fucking LONGGG

dick

dick is the eldest so he doesnt want to bog down his younger siblings with his problems, but if he DOES, he tends to talk to jason about it

dick and cass start to really begin to bond when Cass shows up to dicks gymnastics class for 3rd-6th graders and then cass shows up all the sixth graders and they get frozen yogurt after lmao

dick and tim are Very much thick as thieves. tim is very much like bruce on the Emotional Suppression scale, so dick just really wants to make sure his little brother is safe and happy ALL the time

Duke and Damian are the only two really permanently at the manor anymore, so when dick drops by he tries to do something with both of them. duke frantically zoom calls dick every other week to help him with his his trig homework. dick shows up to dukes high school graduation with literally the BIGGEST SIGN

everyone insists damian is dicks favorite but he does actually genuinely love all his siblings equally, his relationship with damian is just Very different from the others because of the age gap and being dami's primary caretaker for a year. dick babies dami every chance he gets

jason

would sell Dick to satan for One corn chip

him and cass don't have the greatest start to their relationship because cass is very much Against Killing so it takes a while for jason to warm up to her and earn her trust. now, though, jason is competing with steph by showing cass all the classic American Teenager things she missed out on. steph is currently winning but jason is like 98% positive a crunch wrap from taco bell is going to push him over the edge

tim and jason are currently competing over who can solve the most cases in a month. tim is winning. that won't last long.

jason Loves to Big Brother duke its so embarrassing. duke will get out of school and go to his car and jason is SITTING IN THE FRONT SEAT FRANTICALLY WAVING TO GET DUKES ATTENTION. JASON THAT IS MY CAR. signal has one (1) mission with arsenal and arsenal goes hey did you ask that girl to homecoming yet and duke is like I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU.

Damian is proof that Actually, Little Brothers are Pests. Jason fully believes that he was brought back from the dead PURELY to torment damian and he will fulfill this mission at any cost

cassandra

it actually really upset her when Dick didn't accept her at first. she knows her other siblings really adore dick so his lack of trust was really disheartening. it takes dick a while but once he Actually Accepts that cass is going to be a permanent part of their life and oh, wow, dick you really hurt her feelings he really hyperfocuses on bonding with cass for a couple of months which definitely improves their relationship

she really likes jason!! their relationship doesn't start well but because he's close with steph and tim who are cass's top two favorite people to exist ever, cass is like well i GUESS ill hang out with him more. jason is fun to talk to because he always tries his best to explain jokes and give context to what people are talking about (also tim took her to taco bell already but she didn't tell jason she just wanted to hang out)

cass LOVES tim. they just click okay. tim always seems to know when to give her space and when to push and come closer. Tim's "guest room" is just her room lets be real. tim and cass occasionally get mistaken for twins and Cass Loves it.

duke makes cass listen to metal once and cass loses. her. damn. mind. they bond over music a lot because they both Love Music to a degree the others in their family don't.

damian!! damian is her little brother!!! dami isn't As Hostile to cass at first because he is 100% aware cass has the edge in fighting and respects her. cass likes all of his instagram posts and they have a snapchat streak going

tim

tim Loves dick, dick was his first sibling!! he had Very strong hero worship when he first met dick but it mellowed out when tim got older because wow 17 is really not that cool and mature lol. tim has an open invitation to dick's apartment which he does occasionally take advantage of. tim has more than once scared the shit out of wally when wally comes over and wally is convinced they're being robbed (HA) for half a second. i mean. he's not wrong.

listen. tim understands that forgiving the guy who tried to kill you would be a Struggle for some people and it was! definitely! but also at least he can trust jason to, uh, be open about if he doesn't like tim. which is not an assurance he has with other people. so if the guy who tried to kill him tells him tim is cool now then like. maybe tim isn't that bad or annoying a person? also jason arrested a whole gang and won the cases competition but then it created a power vacuum that the whole batfam had to clean up the rest of the month. thanks, jason.

tim LOVES cass. you know how most of the time theres this empty feeling inside you and you just kind of ignore it because you don't know what will fix it or if you do, you know you can't fix it? cass makes that empty feeling feel a little less empty. they just click. tim always tries to travel with cass whenever she leaves gotham.

tim and duke. Tim is actually the sibling who duke goes to whenever he has questions he doesn't want to ask bruce or alfred about, like, life or vigilante-ing or school or college or whatever and Tim is always like yes!! i love Giving Advice and Solving Problems!! tim and duke and jason fill out their college applications together.

tim and damian. LMAO. ROUGH START THAT'S ALL ILL SAY. at some point alfred goes like fuck it. family therapy. and tim and dami are PISSED. tim and damian get along best when they have a common enemy to work against. their relationship gets much better when damian is older and they actually talk about their feelings like emotionally stunted bats. despite how bad their relationship was, tim will ALWAYS protect damian

duke

very much intimidated by dick at first. dick is so much older and has his own job and friends and life and is very much AN ADULT. dick likes to take duke out to do lots of cool stuff (paintball, lasertag, tech exhibitions, concerts, etc). also, dick PERSONALLY introduced duke to superman and is dating THE FLASH. 10/10 awesome big brother.

was intimidated by jason for 0.5 seconds before jason actually opened his mouth and started speaking. jason is literally. So Embarrassing. which is weird because nobody else really seems to feel that way about jason but duke knows he's 100% in the right here. like yeah jason is also An Adult and does Adult Stuff but he's also at the manor like every other weekend???? and he always complains about bruce but always seems to be in the same room bruce is in????? like okay jason. they bond over literature!! jason and duke and alfred will spend literal hours talking about books and duke loves it. duke is the only one who doesn't think jason is funny and jason gets so upset about it lmao.

cass has this one week where she gets really into photography and by virtue of being nearby (and also not nocturnal), duke becomes her victim subject. duke prints out all the pictures and hangs them up in his room (his favorite is one he took when he stole the camera and took a really bad selfie of them together).

tim is closest in age to duke so duke tends to hang around with him a lot. tim introduced duke to his young justice friends and duke is like yes!!! meta-friends!!!! tim really helps duke out with his powers because tim is always like wow i wonder if your powers would work if we did This? can you see farther than other people? is your visible spectrum of light different than other humans? Bruce does the same thing but bruce is boring about it lol.

damian and duke live in the same house and will be in the same room and just send each other social media posts back and forth. they follow each other on instagram and will, OCCASIONALLY, make tik toks together because they're tik tok fiends. each of his siblings have visited his parents once or twice but damian routinely comes with him.

damian

damian gets a special bullet point to say that it took him. forever to come around to the idea of having siblings. he very much believed that he was Bruce's Blood Son and everyone else were just tagalongs or allies. it took him ages to acknowledge that dick, jason, tim, and cass were his siblings, so when duke came and like a week later damian was like Ah, Yes, this is my brother Thomas everyone else was like dude wtf

listen. LISTEN. Obviously. Richard is very highly skilled. and also Father values him highly. and also Richard will listen to Damian complain about his schoolmates. and also Richard is much more patient with Damian than other members of his family. listen....,,, (all this to say damian kind of fucking adores dick lmaooooo this kid).

Todd is kind of unbearable but damian has been informed this is both a normal feeling when it comes to Todd and also big brothers. damian was an only child for ten years so yes, Father, if Todd attempts to tickle me I WILL break his fucking nose. yes i WILL put money in the swear jar but I want you to know i don't regret it. they always try to sneak up on each other but mostly fail.

DRAKE!!! but no lol once damian grows up and is like I Apologize for attempting to murder you it was wrong and you are just as much a son to Father as I am tim is like UGH i guess its cool since ur being so emotionally mature and all. also im 2 for 5 on siblings trying to murder me so im definitely going to win trauma bingo and damian is like i take it back you are insufferable. When Will My Older Siblings Stop Joking About Their Trauma.

CASS!!! listen. cass is cool. Cass Gets It. They have a special Bond. also damian really likes it whenever cass is home because 1) he gets to hang out and do something cool with cass and 2) he feels significantly safer with cass in the house because Nobody will be able to hurt any of their family if Cass is there. ALSO he tries to call her cain but everyone is like DONT DO THAT and he doesn't want to call her wayne bcus theyre ALL wayne (dick adds it on as a middle name but also Richard John Wayne West-Grayson is just. the lamest name ever so dick needs to reconsider it before his upcoming nuptials)((dick will not reconsider it except maybe whether grayson-west would work better)) and so he tries cassandra but cass is like :) call me cass and damian is like cassandra is more formal and respectful and cass is like :) and finally damian just has to give in.

Duke! him and duke actually live together so they get the Most Bonding Time and have a bunch of inside jokes as a result. (is it bad i wanted to laugh because inside jokes... joker... i'll see myself out). they're eating breakfast together (and also alfred sits with them IM NOT A MONSTER ALFIE'S LIKE 70 NOW OKAY) and duke laughs and bruce is like what are you laughing at, son? and duke is like oh damian just showed me this funny meme and then he shows the phone to bruce and bruce grabs it (both the boys groan) and after WAY TOO LONG is like "i don't get it" and so now duke and damian have to try and explain the comedic intricacy of bob's burgers

#this took. two fucking hours #batfam #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #not sure which one to commit to yet #tim drake #duke thomas #damian wayne #dc #the burd squawks #birdflash #birdflash was like. one of my first ships lmao

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longitudinalwaveme · 2 years

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Longitudinalwaveme Reviews Old Comics: Batman #388

At long last, I have finally gotten around to actually reviewing this issue! (It actually arrived in the mail a couple weeks ago, I just never got around to doing this post until now.) Today we’re looking at Batman #388: “The Round-Trip Looking Glass”. It was published in 1985, written by Doug Moench, and drawn by Tom Mandrake.

The art in this issue is much, much better than the art in Detective Comics #555, which is the second half of the two-part story.

After the splash page, which features Batman, Captain Boomerang, and the original Mirror Master (Sam Scudder) fighting one another, the issue begins with Mirror Master breaking into a Gotham City museum to steal the Tien Hsu Jade Necklace through its side door. He does this by using his solar pistol, amplified by a“mirror-amplification device”, to melt the door’s lock and fuse the alarm wires.

Meanwhile, Captain Boomerang knocks out the night guard with a boomerang.

Mirror Master is about to remove the necklace from its display case when Captain Boomerang uses another one of his boomerangs to break the glass and swipe the necklace.

Sam has an amazing facial expression as Digger calls him a fool for not noticing the night guard. It is the first of many, many hilarious facial expressions to be found in this issue.

Mirror Master and Captain Boomerang discuss the fact that they both decided to come to Gotham City at the same time, with Mirror Master saying that he did so explicitly because Gotham is “the one place without a superhero like Flash, Superman, Green Lantern..”, to which Captain Boomerang replies by saying that “superpowers or not, the Batman is just as fierce as any of the others.”

Digger knows this because he’s come to Gotham and fought Batman before. (This occurred in Batman #321, another issue that I own and have previously reviewed.) Sam, who has a fantastic confused face, asks Digger why he came to Gotham if Batman is so threatening, to which Digger explains that he wants to get revenge on Batman.

Sam suggests that he and Digger should team up against Batman (with yet another terrific facial expression). He also refers to Digger “the same old hard case from Down Under” while making this suggestion.

Digger, who already has the necklace, isn’t particularly interested in teaming up with Sam, since he thinks that Sam only suggested the alliance because Digger’s currently the one holding the necklace. And while he tells Sam this, he spins the incredibly valuable jade necklace around his finger like an idiot.

Mirror Master is not happy to hear this. “Just because you scooped me here--by a sneak attack--you think you’re better than me? Well, forget it! Back in Central City, I was always the Flash’s number one foe!” I would have to agree with Sam on this point. In the Pre-Crisis era, Sam really was the undisputed king of the Rogues. Also, his angry facial expression is great.

Captain Boomerang and Mirror Master proceed to get into a hilariously petty argument.

Digger: “Maybe things are different here in Gotham. Maybe your gimmicky mirrors can’t cut it here.” (He has an amazingly smug face as he says this, and Sam is pointing a finger angrily at him. It’s great.)

Sam: “My gimmicky mirrors? What about your boomerangs?”

Digger: “Listen, ace! This boomerang was good enough to-” (And during this bit, Digger is waving his fist right at Sam’s nose. Seriously, they’re both living cartoons in this comic, and it’s amazing.)

This incredible ego competition is interrupted by Batman using his Batarang to swipe the jade necklace out of Digger’s hand. He then tells both of them that Gotham is off-limits.

Sam and Digger react to this in this most courageous manner possible: by freaking out and running away (complete with amazing facial expressions.)

Digger: “So long, mate! I’m not ready for for revenge yet!”

Sam: “Wait for me! I’m not even mad at him!”

As they bravely run away, the two supervillans duck behind a pillar in Dinosaur Hall, and when Batman follows them in, Mirror Master uses one of his mirrors to blind him. Digger then uses one of his explosive boomerangs, which collapses a T. rex statue onto Batman and allows them to escape.

The two then promptly return to their petty argument from before.

Sam: “You missed, idiot!’

Digger: “At least I stopped him! What did your mirror do? Make him see stars for a bit?”

Sam: “That does it! The team-up’s off!”

Digger: “It was never on!”

Sam: “Then mark my words, Boomerang,’cause I’m gonna make you eat yours! I’m the best criminal in Gotham, and I can prove it!”

Digger: “Yeah? Have fun looking in your mirrors, chump--after I’ve humiliated you!”

Meanwhile, Batman gets out from under the T. rex statue and goes to the Batcave, where he and Robin (Jason Todd) use the Batcomputer to view the files on Mirror Master and Captain Boomerang (after Jason notes that they still haven’t rounded up all the members of Black Mask’s False Face Society).

The files are basically just recaps of the pair’s Silver/Bronze Age origins, with two slight differences. The first is that, rather than calling himself Aussie Green as he did in the original story, Digger apparently went in for the interview as Digger Harkness. The second, and more hilarious, is that Batman’s files say that the Mirror Master’s name is Joe Scudder. Moench must have used a Cary Bates issue as reference for Mirror Master’s name.

After reviewing the files, Batman and Robin get some sleep, since Batman doesn’t think the two Rogues will be trying anything else that night.

Meanwhile, at the docks of Gotham Bay, “Joe” Scudder is trying to think up a crime when he’s approached by three men. One is wearing a skull mask, one is wearing a devil mask, and one is...wearing a Heathcliff cat mask. (Did that last guy miss the “scary masks” memo?) They demand to know if he’s “Joe Scudder”, the “Master of Mirrors guy”, to which “Joe” responds in the affirmative. He’s also clearly really, REALLY freaked out by them, which is hilarious. Apparently, he thought that he was getting jumped and/or mugged by some Gotham goons and actually thought they were a threat to him. His facial expression in the first panel where they show up is amazing.

The three masked dudes explain that they want Mirror Master to be their new boss, since Black Mask got arrested. “Joe” responds to this by putting on his mirrored sunglasses and using them to hypnotize the thugs. He tells them to go find Digger and put him in the hospital.

Once the now-hypnotized thugs leave, “Joe” comes up with the most zero-effort crime imaginable.

“There’s always that bank across the street...Yeah, what the hell? When in doubt, or just plain bored, fall back on old faithful.” A+ creativity, “Joe”.

Bruce Wayne has a brief romantic interlude with Julia Pennyworth (she’s Alfred’s niece) before he notices the Batsignal and has to leave her in the lurch. Also, even before this happens, he’s not really paying attention to her or her desire to write a book about Black Mask, since he’s too preoccupied thinking about his OTHER love interest, Vicki Vale. As a result, Julie is very upset by his sudden departure. Smooth, Bruce. Smooth.

Batman and Jason get into the Batmobile to respond to the Batsignal, but on their way to police headquarters, they almost crash into Harvey Bullock. Bullock tells the pair that the Batsignal was sent out in response to a report of a “suspicious figure at Zindorf Jewelers” and that he himself was going out to respond to another alarm across the bay.

Batman, realizing that both Rogues have struck at once, sends Jason with Bullock while he goes to the Jewelers.

Meanwhile, Captain Boomerang uses his “mini-rocket boomerang” to fly up to the building’s roof, then uses this same boomerang to break the padlock on the roof door.

Digger on finances: “The people who don’t steal are always finding ways to save it--which makes it so much easier for those of us who do steal.”

Before he actually start stealing things, however, the alarm goes off as the three hypnotized goons bust into the store to attack him.

Digger’s reaction: “Yoicks.” (combined with another hilarious facial expression.)

Meanwhile, “Joe” has just “opened the vault with my mirror-amplified laser” when he gets taken out by Harvey Bullock and Jason Todd in the span of 4 panels. Yes, Mirror Master was defeated by an overweight cop and Jason Todd in 4 panels. Not his finest hour.

Back at the jewelry store, Digger is trying to buy off “Joe’s” hypnotized goons when Batman arrives. Digger uses the distraction to tie the goons together with a boomerang somehow.

Batman tries to go after Digger but is attacked by the goons, allowing Digger to escape. I guess “Joe’s” hypnotic command to kill Digger was overridden by the goons’ desire to kill Batman.

Digger then uses his flying boomerang to break into “Joe’s” Gotham apartment.

Digger on Sam “Joe”: “Scudder’s an arrogant fool, not caring if everyone in Gotham’s underworld knew he was in town...and not even bothering to keep his hideout a secret!” How did “Joe” set up this hideout so quickly, anyhow?

Digger steals the mirror that “Joe” used for his hypnotic sunglasses.

Meanwhile, “Joe” escapes from Bullock’s police car by using a false front tooth (which he had previously captured Digger’s image on) to project an image of Captain Boomerang in the middle of the road. Bullock swerves and Mirror Master escapes.

After a brief conversation between Batman, Jason, Harvey, and Commissioner Gordon, we cut back to Mirror Master’s hideout, where “Joe” is using his solar pistol to free himself from his handcuffs.

This accomplished, he starts admiring himself in the truly astonishing number of mirrors he’s set up in his hideout.

“Joe” on himself: “Feels good enough to be back among my mirrors-where I’m still number one and look it.”

Suddenly, he realizes that his strobe mirror is missing and reacts in shock (and with another terrific facial expression).

“Someone robbed me while I was out--robbed me!!” Sam “Joe’s” repeated freakouts are easily the funniest part of this story.

Then a boomerang made of mirror flies into the room, and starts smashing all of “Joe’s” mirrors. In hopes of stopping it, he grabs the boomerang, only for the mirror to start pulsing hypnotically.

Digger’s voice eminates from the mirror boomerang, telling Sam “Joe” that he must do anything Digger says, including murder. Seemingly hypnotized, Sam “Joe” responds by saying “Y-yes...including...murder”. (As the next issue will reveal, however, he’s actually only pretending to be hypnotized.)

The issue ends withe Digger happily thinking about how well things are going for him (complete with one last wonderful expression.)

This comics is amazing, and Sam “Joe” and Digger are comedy gold throughout. It’s too bad the second half of the story had such terrible art.

#flash rogues #batman comics #captain boomerang #mirror master #sam scudder #batman #dc comics

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fruitcoops · 3 years

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Have you ever seen where they get kids to ask the players tough questions and there all dress up and have fake beards and stuff. Maybe you could do that with Jules and Katie asking the team all these really hard questions?????

Thank you for giving me an excuse to spend an hour and a half watching adorable kids ask questions and melt the hearts of celebrities. You’re my hero. There are no fake beards here, but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Sweater Weather characters belong to the incredible @lumosinlove!

“These chairs are so small,” James said as he scooted closer to the table. He nearly knocked Talker over with his elbow as the four of them squeezed in; the two kids on the other side shared a look.

“Ready, everyone?” Dorcas asked. When she received six thumbs up, she turned to the camera with a cheerful smile. “Hello, Lions fans, and welcome to Lion Pride! We have a couple of very special guests today to do the introductions.”

“Hello! I’m Katie and I’m six!” She held up six fingers and all four hockey players melted a little bit.

“I’m Julian, and I’m ten.” He waved, a little shy.

Dorcas smiled. “And how are you two related to our favorite Lions?”

Katie lit up and pointed behind the camera. “That’s my dad!”

There was a chuckle in the background. “Can you tell them my name, mon chou?”

“Pascal Dumais, but everyone calls you Dumo.” She swung her legs and her tulle skirt fluffed out.

“Remus Lupin is my older brother,” Jules said with a grin. “But Finn thought he was my dad.”

“It was an honest mistake!” Finn protested around a laugh. “Cut me some slack, Little Loops!”

“Do you want to do the intros for the guys, too?” Dorcas asked. Katie tugged on Jules’ sleeve.

“Can I go first?” she whispered. When he nodded, she hopped out of her chair and ran to the other side of the table, tapping each player on the shoulder. “This is Pots, Talker, Harzy, and Sirius.”

“Aw, man, I didn’t get to do any of them,” Jules pouted.

“You can ask the first question,” Dorcas said, hiding her smile behind her clipboard. “A quick reminder for our Lions: if you refuse to answer any of these, it means you hate children. Take it away, Jules!”

“Okay.” He cleared his throat and looked across the table with a solemn expression. “How many sticks have each of you broken?”

“Oh, that’s a tough one,” James mused. “A lot, but not always on purpose.”

“I haven’t broken that many,” Talker said. “I’ve forgotten to return quite a few to the rink after games, though. I think I have about five in my trunk that I keep meaning to put back.”

“Maybe…ten? Fifteen?” Finn rested his chin on his hand. “I should start a tally board.”

“Too many,” Sirius laughed. “I need to be more careful.”

Katie wiggled in her seat as she picked up the question card. “Why do you swear so much?”

Matching expressions of shock painted all four players’ faces. “Have we sworn in front of you?” Finn asked in a small voice.

“Yeah.”

“Mon dieu, I’m the worst person on earth,” Sirius murmured as Talker leaned his forehead on the table.

James opened and closed his mouth a couple times before answering. “Uh. Well. I don’t know, Katie. Instead of answering, I’m going to take this time to personally apologize to you and your dad, who is laughing his a—his rear end off in the back, as well as promising to form better habits.”

“If you could be any superhero, who would it be?” Jules asked, seemingly unfazed by the previous question. Wordlessly, Sirius gestured to his Captain America t-shirt.

“Spiderman,” Finn said without hesitation. “He’s the coolest.”

James unzipped his jacket to reveal a Superman shirt. “We didn’t coordinate this,” he said, tilting his head toward Sirius. “But yeah, Superman’s the best.”

Talker thought for a moment. “I really like Hawkeye. Are we talking Marvel or DC here?”

“Anything.”

“Anything? Hmm. I’m going to go with the Flash, then.”

“Nice.” Jules reached over to give him a high-five.

“I got Jules’ approval, everyone else can go home.”

“What’s your greatest fear?” Katie asked, still swinging her legs.

The table went silent. Sirius turned to Dorcas. “Is this the plan? Get us rolling with fun stuff and then give the hard ones to the five-year-old in a princess dress?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Cool. Well, munchkin, I don’t like bugs and I’m not a huge fan of the dark.”

“Vegetables,” Finn said sagely, which sent both kids into a fit of giggles and made all the adults break into sunny smiles. “God, you guys are cute.”

“Pomeranians freak me out,” Talker answered once they had calmed down a bit. “They have those tiny little eyes and sharp teeth.”

James shrugged. “I’m not a fan of heights.”

“I thought you wanted to be Superman?” Jules frowned. “He flies all the time.”

“I think I’d be less afraid of heights if I knew I could fly.”

“So you’re afraid of falling, not heights.”

James looked to the camera. “And now I’m getting psychoanalyzed by a ten-year-old. Uh, yeah buddy, I guess so.”

“Hmm.” Jules looked back to the question card. “Who would win in a fight, you or our moms?”

“Your moms,” Talker said immediately as the others nodded. “No contest.”

“How would we even get in that situation?” Sirius asked. “What the did we do to make the nicest women in the world that mad?”

“Stole brownies,” Katie said with great gravity for one so young. “Mom says you four are the worst about it.”

“Mom wouldn’t even have to fight you.” Jules cocked his head to the side. “I feel like she could just give you a disappointed look and that would be enough. Katie, your turn.”

“Yay!” She brightened again. “What is your favorite cereal?”

Sirius smiled. “Fruit Loops.”

“Cheerios,” Talker said. “They’re good for you physically and emotionally.”

“I’m with Talkie on this one,” James agreed.

Finn gave them all disappointed looks. “You’re so old. Mine’s Lucky Charms.”

“Okay, Leprechaun Boy,” James snorted. Finn reached over and smacked the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Do you ever play hockey at home?” Jules asked. “I feel like Sirius doesn’t have to answer this one since it’s so obvious.”

Finn laughed. “Does tapping a puck around on the carpet with brooms counts?”

“Yeah, that counts.”

“Then yeah, sometimes.”

“I have no space in my apartment to play hockey,” Talker said. “Though I plan on moving someday and then the answer will be yes.”

“I made a rink in my backyard.” James smiled slightly. “Lily likes to skate sometimes while I run drills.”

“My turn, my turn!” Katie scooted her chair closer. “Okay. Out of everyone on the team, what two people would you take with you on a dessert island?”

“Desert,” Jules corrected quietly.

“Desert island. Are there deserts on islands?”

“I think they mean like super sandy beaches with no people on them.”

“Oooooohhh.”

James mouthed a thank you to Dorcas, who gave him a thumbs-up in return. The other three looked at the kids with unbearable softness. “Well, I’d feel awful if I took your dad with me, so I think I’m going to go with Finn and maybe Kasey. We’d have a blast.”

“Nice, dude.” Finn fist-bumped him. “Unfortunately for you, my choices are going to be Leo and Logan, since I already know we could live together without starting a war on the third day.”

Sirius thought for a second. “I think Nado would actually be able to survive on a desert island, so I’ll bring him along, and for the second one…maybe Kasey? Yeah, Kasey’s cool.”

In the ensuing silence, Jules gave him a significant look. “Aren’t you forgetting someone?”

“You’re not on the t—” The realization hit him like a truck; his eyes went wide and he slumped in his seat as the others burst out laughing. “Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.”

“Your own fiancé.”

“Please don’t tell him.”

“He’s gonna laugh so hard,” Jules cackled, leaning back in his chair. Even the camera crew was losing it in the background. Dorcas had to step out of frame. “You’re never going to live it down.”

“Well, the first person I would bring with me is Remus Lupin, because he’s read a lot of books and definitely knows how to survive on a desert island,” Talker said around his snickering. “And then I’d bring Cap, because God knows that would get entertaining after Loops finds out about this. The sarcasm would be off the charts.”

“Okay, next question.” Dorcas came back into view, still grinning. “Jules, go for it.”

“Can I ask Katie’s question again so Sirius can give a better answer?” he asked gleefully. Dorcas hesitated, then shook her head. “Bummer. What was cool when you were young that isn’t cool now?”

“When?” Finn looked scandalized. “I’m 24!”

“Yeah, and?”

“Ugh. Um, maybe Furbies? People were really into Furbies when I was in high school, though I can’t say I’m sorry to see them go out of style.”

James bit his lip in thought. “Tamagotchis.”

“I loved those things!” Talker said excitedly. “My sisters and I used to go nuts with those things!”

Sirius smiled. “Lite Brites.”

Finn’s eyes went wide. “I forgot about those!”

“Regulus and I each had one and we loved them. That was the only thing we agreed on and we used to sit—” He paused for a second to laugh. “—we used to sit in the middle of the ice rink in the backyard, still in our skates and everything, and do Lite Brites for literal hours.”

“That’s so cute, oh my god.” Talker shook his head. “What a nostalgia trip.”

Katie knelt on her seat and rested her arms on the table. “Who skates faster, you or me?”

“You,” all four answered in unison.

Jules rolled his eyes, but he was clearly hiding a smile. “How many push ups can you do?”

“How many can you do?” James countered. A flash of competition lit on Jules’ face and all the guys grinned. “Uh-oh, there’s the Lupin glare.”

“How about we have a little competition?” Dorcas suggested. “See how many everyone can do in thirty seconds?”

“Absolutely,” Finn said. The four of them had a little bit of trouble getting their knees out from under the kid-sized table, but eventually they succeeded and gathered in the middle of the room. “Katie, are you joining us?”

She smiled innocently. “No, I know I’d win.”

“Get ready.” Dorcas pulled her phone out as they knelt. “On your marks, get set, go!”

The guys went easy on Jules from the outset, but they made it look like those pushups were the hardest exercise they had ever done in their lives. Talker took a second to dramatically wipe his forehead and James’ wheezing was almost comical; Jules, however, was giving it his best shot. When the timer finally went off, Finn collapsed with a groan. “I forfeit.”

“Did I win?” Jules panted, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

“You did, congratulations!” Dorcas put her timer away and winked at the camera as they headed back to the table. “Great job, everyone. Katie, your turn.”

“Do you live in a mansion?”

“I live in an apartment,” Finn said.

“Same.”

Sirius shook his head. “My house might be big, but it’s not a mansion.”

“Does a two-story house count as a mansion?” James asked. “No? Then no, I don’t.”

“Who is your least favorite person on the team and why?” Jules turned to Sirius with raised eyebrows. “Are we going to have another desert island problem?”

Sirius threw his hands in the air, speechless, as the other three cracked up. “Jules, can I adopt you?” James begged around his laughter. “Please?”

“You’ll have to fight my mom for that, I think.”

“My least favorite person on the team is James Potter,” Sirius sighed. “Not the person I’m getting married to.”

“We could get married. Lily might mind, though.”

“Full offense, but I know way too much about you to ever consider that.”

James ruffled his hair and turned back to the kids. “My least favorite person on the team is Remus Lupin, because he ran me over in practice the other day.”

Finn side-eyed him. “Didn’t you trip him after he stole the puck from you?”

“He ran me over.”

“Sure, Pots. Um, my least favorite is Kasey Winter. He threw ice at me while we were in the ice baths.”

“Logan took my Gatorade last week and hid it all over the rink,” Talker said. “I’ll never forgive him for such a crime.”

“Oh, I like this one!” Katie exclaimed as she looked at her card. “What’s the best birthday party you’ve ever had?”

“My tenth birthday was at Red Robin and I got a Power Ranger outfit.” Talker grinned. “I was the coolest kid on the block.”

“My eighteenth birthday was pretty fun,” Finn said. “There was a bouncy house and Alex almost broke it because we were jumping too hard.”

“Does it have to be my birthday?” James asked. “Because my son’s first birthday party was awesome.”

“Why?”

“He threw cake in Sirius’ face and a food fight broke out in the backyard.”

“That was a pretty great day,” Sirius agreed. “My last birthday party was my favorite.”

“You spent the night with us!” Katie said happily.

“I did, yeah,” he laughed. “And I had a really good time.”

Jules perked up when he read the next question. “I love this one! Do you have a lucky pair of underwear?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, totally.”

“Of course I do.”

“Is there a superstition I don’t have?”

Jules looked especially pleased with those answers as Katie picked up her card. “This is the last one,” she warned. “And it’s super important and super hard. What kind of dog would you be and why? You can take your time, I don’t mind.”

“Thank you, Katie, we’ll need it,” Talker said as he desperately tried to contain his smile. “I’ll go first, if nobody minds. I would be a border collie because one, I love them; two, they have a lot of energy; and three, they love making friends.”

“That’s a good one,” she said seriously. “They’re also very soft.”

“Yes, they are.”

Once Finn managed to suppress his quiet laughter, he raised his hand. “Can I go next?” Katie nodded. “I’d be an Irish setter. They have red hair and they’re really affectionate. Plus, I met one the other day at the park and haven’t stopped thinking about him.”

“This was a tough question, Katie, but I think I’m going to go with a golden retriever,” James said after a moment. “They’re good family dogs and they like to be on the ice with those big ol’ paws.”

“That’s what I was going to say!” She beamed at him. “Sirius, you don’t have to go. I already know what you’d be.”

He raised his eyebrows, looking highly amused. “Do you now? Can everyone else know, too?”

“Well, it’s obvious,” she said. “You’d be Hattie. She looks just like you and she gives the best hugs.”

A small puff of air left Sirius’ lungs and he blinked as James reached over and patted his shoulder. “Oh. Okay.”

“That wraps us up,” Dorcas said, looking between them with a soft smile. “Any closing statements from our guest stars?”

“Ready?” Jules muttered to Katie, who nodded rapidly. “On three. One, two, three!”

“Go Lions!” they shouted in unison with matching grins. The camera crew cheered and the players applauded, all laughing.

“Thank you for tuning in, everyone! Remember to like and subscribe for more content.”

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heresathreebee · 3 years

Text

Wearing THAT

[Dewey Finn X Female Reader]

Summary: Reader teases Dewey in a Poison Ivy costume. You have a really hard time saying exactly what you want... Masterlist Next

Word count: 3.1k words (no beta)

Warning(s): 17+ | teasing, lots of teasing and boners, lap sitting, near nudity, touching

AN: only Thots here, thots about Dewey Finn also is Ned British? He's British in my head

This was some sort of test. It had to be. God was testing him through you and you were not playing fair. It’s a costume party not a competition, you pompous little sycophant. And yet he can’t help but tug at the collar of his shirt. It’s not even anywhere near his throat but why else would he feel so constricted? It’s certainly not because of you…

You walked into his shared apartment wearing that and you had no idea the effect it had on him.

Dewey watches you sling an arm around Ned and kiss Patty’s cheek in greeting. “Hi guys! Thanks for inviting me, I’ve been dying to put this on.”

“Oh you look lovely,” Patty coos. She plucks at one of the plastic leaves on your corset. “Did you make this?! It’s so intricate.”

You bark out a laugh. “Oh hell no! I have this cousin, right? And him and his fiancé own this shop where they make costumes for movies and theatre and if you pay ‘em right, ‘personal use.’ And they don’t ask questions what ain’t their business either.”

“Well, I’m sold.” Ned raises his beer for a toast and Patty clinks it with her bottle of mysterious green juice. “Prost! What’s the name of the shop? Wanna see if they’re online– you know, for... support.”

“Ned,” Patty swatted his empty hand (no need to be shy, we already know they’re freaky).

You pat your friends on their backs and take a step towards the kitchen. “Gonna get myself a beer.”

“Oh honey you don’t have to do that. Dewey!” The man in question nearly covered himself in his own drink when he heard his name. “Be a good host and get this lady her beer!”

“Yes captain,” Dewey salutes and Patty can do nothing but glare in her Star Trek yellow shirt costume. Original series, of course, nothing but the best for Patricia Di Marco.

Dewey takes a hold of the moment he has his back to you to take deep, calming breaths. He will not let this be the end of him. Your friendship means so much more to him than that and a little fancy green corset was not going to make him fuck things up with you.

He’s ready for you when he hands you your beer. Your one arm hug is appreciated because he’s sporting a bit of wood and he’d hate to find out your corset isn’t thick enough to hide it– or god forbid you feel him on your thigh. And god, your thighs… those sheer green nylon tights were doing unspeakable things to him. Maybe if he kept you close and kept your legs out of his peripherals he could make it through the night without embarrassing himself.

Or maybe not.

“Are yoooouuu a college student?,” you ask and point at his inconspicuous clothes.

“Actually– ” he opens the buttons of his shirt to reveal another shirt with a superman logo on it and buttons it back up clumsily as you laugh. “Ssshhh! Don’t tell anybody. Protect my secret.”

“Of course,” you giggle. God you feel good hanging off him– usually he loves how physical you are but he has to figure out a way to keep his distance without offending you and quickly. “You like mine?”

The way you pick up a thick swirling red lock and direct his attention to the very thing he’s trying not to look at is killing him. Of course you look even better up close. The leaves of your corset give the thing depth and texture, your gloves are fingerless and go over your elbows, and your heels are high, like make- him- feel- his- below- average- height high.

“I like these.” Dewey plucks at the ring of leaves at the top of your gloves. It’s a way to keep his mind off your everything else. “Did you dye your hair?”

“It’s a wig.” You tug on the top and then the bottom, wincing a little. “Sew in, so don’t go snatch it.”

“I would never!”

“Poison Ivy, eh? Think that’s one of Dewey’s favorites,” Ned blabs.

Dewey sends him a death glare so powerful Ned chokes on his beer but you’re looking at your Spock-dressed friend so you can’t see it.

“Oh, really?” You return your gaze to Dewey and say, “well you must be loving this, then.”

Dewey swallows. No words come to him and there is nothing to stop the awkward silence that follows. You appear unbothered by it, maintaining eye contact as you smile almost knowingly…

“We should play twister,” he says with the most unsure voice ever.

“We don’t even have twister,” Patty mumbled. “Come on, there are like twenty other games setup, let’s play!”

Dewey gives it a minute and when he’s free from you, he catches Ned by his pointy green ear and drags him into the hall. “Hey? What the fuck are you doing?”

“Whah– what are you talking about?” Ned slaps at the hand fisted in his shirt but Dewey doesn’t budge.

“You can’t just go telling people I’m into them, dude! Do you know how close you came to giving me away?!”

Ned scoffed. “Her? I hardly think she’s ignorant to your feelings, you’re not like that Steven from Austin fellow.”

“– Are you talking about stone cold Steve Austin?"Dewey buries his face in his hands- "It’s his last name, not his birthplace–”

“And besides…” Ned peeks around the corner to see you in the middle of some sort of posing game. Everybody's trying to take the form of some sort of vehicle, and you've got Chloe in a headlock and Vance's leg in the other hand. Ned never got to finish his thought because someone dropped a huge bowl of popcorn and that too became a game of ‘how many can you eat off the floor before Patty cleans it up.’ Ned’s got to help and he’s got to help now.

Dewey finds himself on the couch with his fifth beer of the evening. Vance, Jeremiah, and Chloe are talking baseball stats when suddenly Dewey’s vision is filled with green and red just before you sit down. Right between his legs. He unconsciously scoots up to make room for you and before he catches on to your game, you nestle into his space by the arm of the couch and sling your legs across his like you belong there.

Ok, something is definitely up with you.

Would he describe you as cuddly? A little. Perhaps a more appropriate word would be… hands on. Long before he started wanting more than friendship with you, you two were always just touching. Your presence and your love language was physical. Dewey never felt like you were invading his personal space or overstepping his boundaries because he simply had none with you and the feeling was mutual. But this was something else. Something that wasn’t there before.

Was it him? Was he fucking up his perfectly in sync companionship with you because he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants or (his heart for that matter)? He wasn’t sure if he wanted to drag you closer or push you flat on your ass right now.

You were listening to Chloe chew Vance out for hating Gritty the mascot when you felt Dewey plant a hand on your forehead. “Hey, are you feeling ok?”

You gently shake him off and raise a single eyebrow. He seems serious, his voice gone all soft and making you feel gooey inside.

“You just seem… I dunno,” he fumbles, “do you want me to take you home after this?”

Hellooooo opening! “Actually, can I stay here tonight?”

“Yeah, of course.” Fuck, who said that? Dewey? Ah, shit…

“Thanks,” oh oh you should not be rubbing his thigh right now… “I think I’ll go change here in a minute.”

Oh please do, please please puh-leeaaase–

After a brilliant movie drinking game (which Dewey tapped out of), the crowd began to disband. 24 became 20, then 18, then 12. You went out to your car to grab your overnight stuff and Dewey was hoping for a brief reprieve from the assault of your visage. He just needed a few more people to leave so he can sequester himself and rub one out– you know, get his head straight. Ever since you left his lap he’s been rock hard, there’s not enough blood flowing to his brain. The guest count is down to 3– 2 with you in your car, and he can’t wait anymore.

Dewey slipped into the only bathroom in the house and prayed to god nobody noticed him. He barely got his hand wrapped around his shaft when Patty’s fist banged on the door demanding he help clean up. Sulking and agitated, Dewey managed to calm down while cleaning up red solo cups, glass beer bottles, cans, and small pocket sized objects that would need to be returned to the guests after their hangovers subsided (no keys, thankfully, everybody’s got a DD). His “predicament’ is nearly forgotten when you finally return with a bundle of clothes, disappear into the bathroom and reemerge in loose sleepwear with your makeup wiped clean and uh… braless.

You catch him looking. Dewey– surprisingly sober after he gave up drinking half way through his sixth beer– does nothing short of raise a slightly irritated eyebrow at you. “Cold in here, huh?”

“Shut up. You know how uncomfortable it is to sleep in a bra?”

You help him collect a couple bottles that rolled under the couch and walk with him down to Ned’s car. Patty would sort the recyclables from the trash in the morning (late morning, she did a couple rounds of tequila shots thanks to you). It’s almost like the party never happened; you’re shooting the shit again and everything is right in the world. He’s got no ulterior reaction to putting a hand on your hip– that’s just a normal thing in your perfectly platonic relationship. God, he really must have been imagining things, he was beginning to think you were actually trying to flirt with him!

Ned’s bent over the kitchen sink with Patty and holding her hair back. He looks up as you enter the apartment and shakes his head. You and Dewey make yourself scarce by slipping into the shared bathroom to hide. You try to giggle quietly as Dewey surveys the skincare products you covered the counter with. He points to your head and asks, “you wearing that to bed?”

“It’s sewed in, I’m not taking this off for three weeks at least,” you answer. “Get my money’s worth. I can work it like my natural hair.”

Dewey nods. You rub your arm nervously and look for something to say, something to circle back to the whole point of showing up looking like a sexed up goddess. What do guys like? Girls wearing their clothes, right? But you need to phrase it perfectly…

“Dewey?” He looks up from the scrubby lip balm in his hands. “I’m not quite ready to go to sleep yet and it… it is a little chilly in your place. Can I wear your jacket?”

Just to bring your meaning home, you tug on his sleeve– the very jacket on his back. You don’t want just any jacket, you want that one, already warm and scented by him. You don’t miss the way his eyes glance past you like he was reluctant to comply. And yet…

“Yeah, here.” He slips out of it with ease and drapes it over your shoulders. You miss the sigh of relief he makes when you pull the zipper closed and obscure your pebbling nipples. “Think I’m gonna go help Ned put Patty to bed.”

Ned was a scrawny little thing and couldn’t carry her by himself, and she needed to be carried. Competitive by nature, it’s easy to talk her into virtually anything, especially if it feels like girl time. You need Patty in a deep sleep for your plans tonight (sorry not sorry). Dewey’s very sexy as he bears most of Patty’s weight. She’s clinging to Ned, arms around his neck and babbling incoherently while Dewey’s got an arm around her waist and legs, keeping Ned on his feet. You skirt ahead of them and open the bedroom door, help pull her shoes off, her captain insignia, her earrings, you even wipe the spit from her lips and the eyeliner smeared on her cheek.

“You’re my favorite ever,” she whimpers, “I love you so much, you’re like my best friend ever…”

You shush her gently. “You say that about everybody when you’re drunk, baby. I promise I’ll make you a fat breakfast in the morning but you gotta go to sleep now, OK?”

Patty nods. She snuggles into her pillow just as Ned is taking up position as the big spoon when she looks back up at you and asks, “can we go for a run together?”

You blink evenly. “Yes.” You already regret it as she smiles big and wide. It would be just your luck this is the one thing she doesn't forget in the morning.

Finally it's just you and Dewey in the hallway. It feels like you're standing between two choices: his open bedroom door and the living room. But it seems like only you can feel the weight of it.

"Are you sure you want to stay over?," Dewey asks, "you can use my bed."

You perk up out of your heavy mood. "Really?"

"Yeah, I'll take the couch tonight."

He can't possibly miss the way you instantly deflate but he's still not putting the pieces of the puzzle together. "Dewey. I'm not going to kick you out of your own room."

He shrugs. "Suit yourself. I'll grab a few blankets."

There's a storage closet in the main building with this one extra soft blanket that Dewey knows you'll love. You on the other hand have got no more patience left. Once the man leaves, you stomp your foot and decide to try one final act.

Dewey returns to the apartment to find an empty, quiet living room. Ned and Patty are in bed, but where are you? He wanders past the bathroom door because it's dark inside and checks his room. There you are reclining on his bed. He could have sworn you were wearing pants before but your legs are bare and his jacket hugs the tops of your thighs. He also could have sworn you were wearing a shirt. He finds both items folded neatly beside you with your underwear right on top.

Oh…

This cannot be happening right now. He just survived tonight by the skin of his teeth and now you were doing this to him. He’s going to pull his hair out, going to scream, it’s so frustrating because he can’t just ask you what you want– you’ll turn the question back on him and he’ll fuck it up. He lets the blanket fall from his grip and with a heavy sigh he whispers in a weak voice, “straight answers only. What are you doing to me? Why you doin’ this?”

You cock your head and answer leisurely, your eye drifting across the items in his room. “You know that’s not how I roll, but if you want me to address the elephant in the room: I'm naked in your bed right now."

Against his better judgement, Dewey moves closer. "I can see that."

One step closer and your eyes find him again. Like an invitation you lean back more, even uncross your legs but go no further. Dewey swallows his tongue and waits for you to elaborate and every second is agonizingly slow.

"You think you can just walk around here with your pretty face and cocky little attitude like it’s nothing,” you said accusingly.

Dewey glared at you. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.”

“Well we're in agreement then,” you’re almost sneering at him, but he knows it’s because you’re really frustrated with yourself, “I look and I touch and I feel but I don’t know, you know?”

“Not a clue,” he sighs and sits himself beside you. He’s done trying to keep his distance. “Let’s go back to you being naked in my bed.”

“Do you like it?”

“Do I like it?,” he repeats incredulously. Dewey leans back on his elbow to look you over from top to bottom. You look damn good in nothing but his jacket. You’ve got the long ends of your red hair in braids that sweep down to your navel. The zipper rests tantalizingly right below your ribcage. Dewey dares to reach out a mollifying hand and give a tiny stroke to that silver keeper. He cannot bring himself to speak above a whisper as he nods, “yeah, I… I like it.”

The tension leaves your shoulders and you wear a small grin. “It’s not too late to take it back. Say no, and I’ll put my clothes back on and sleep on the couch like none of this ever happened. This,” you point between the two of you, “doesn’t change unless we want it to.”

… this was real. In answer, Dewey’s chin wrinkles and he watches his finger travel upwards, drawing a light line up the expanse of your chest between your breasts to feel you shiver at his touch. Thing is he doesn’t want to say no, but wouldn’t it be better? Safer? He asks the question he’s been dying to know all night. “What do you want from me?”

“Whatever I can get,” you answer truthfully. “Whatever you’ll allow. Don’t trouble yourself with labels and things ‘cause what we have has always been so much more than that.”

Dewey feels a weight lift off of his chest. His hand works around your waist and drags you closer, halfway under him and he rests his perspiring forehead on your breastbone. Whatever happens next happens, for better or for worse.

You’re not troubled when Dewey moves the jacket to expose one of your breasts, however you are taken aback when he bites you. You barely manage to stifle your yelp when you feel him growl against your flesh and the sound vibrates straight to your core. Dewey drags his head up and stares you dead in the eye as he kneads your savaged breast.

“All night,” he growls, “all fucking night for this? We could have done this ages ago. The salon, the drive in, Chloe’s cat’s birthday– grocery shopping last week. But no, instead you pick a party full of people and you’ve had me riled up for hours.”

Dewey pinches your hardened peak and you keen. “‘m sorry…”

“No you’re not, but don’t worry: you will be.”

AN: Check Out Part 2 @hoodoo12 @go-commander-kim @escape-your-grape @softbeej @imma-fucking-nerd @werwulfy

#Dewey Finn #Dewey Finn x reader #three bees writing #🐝🐝🐝✒#black reader insert #🖤❤💛#dewey finn x female reader

101 notes · View notes

thekryptonianandthecitygirl · 3 years

Note

Clark on the things he loves/notices about Lois

As he gently puts her down, she squeezes his arms in gratitude and smiles, shouting her thanks over the loud noise of the helicopter.

It’s a nice smile, he thinks.

Clark smiles back.

____________________________________________

She’s bold. Brave, determined - oh, so very determined.

He’d suspected that since the very first moment, when the lieutenant congratulated her over her pieces about the First Division, and she’d chuckled, claiming that she got writer’s block if she wasn’t wearing a flak jacket. Clark had made a mental note to check out her articles.

And then, it’s just - one thing after another. The way she stands up to the general in that tent, setting things up straight as she calls him out on his dick measuring competition. The insolent smile and snarky comment she left him with, when he hoped to faze her with poor sleeping arrangements.

The way she wanders alone in the freezing cold, follows a stranger, and gets out her camera as she comes face to face with an alien machine.

When he gathers her in his arms that night, carefully carrying her out for her to be found as soon as the ship leaves, Clark can’t help but linger a little on her face. Sleeping, slightly whiten with the pain, she almost looks fragile.

The last few hours alone are enough for him to know how much looks can be deceiving.

Adjusting her coat around her, Clark gets up and slowly backs away towards his ship, and thinks that he’s probably never encountered someone so driven, something a little like awe building up in his stomach.

____________________________________________

She…accepts him.

When he tells her his story, the story of how he let his own father die simply not to be discovered, the story he’s most ashen of, Clark expects her disgust. A flinch, a few babbling and awkward words - at the very least, a look in her clear eyes that tells him just how terrible a person he is.

Instead, all he finds is compassion. Understanding, somehow.

She doesn’t publish anything.

In fact, she protects him, refusing to unveil any information about him when he knows the military must have tried to be pretty persuasive. But Lois doesn’t say a word.

Instead, she teases him about his costume, a smirk on her lips and a glimmer in her eyes in that interrogation room as if they weren’t being watched by angry-looking US soldiers. As if a Kryptonian one isn’t on his way to them, about to change the world forever.

He thinks he’s halfway in love with her already, and then she reaches out to him and holds his hand as they stand in the middle of the desert. For a brief moment, he feels the crushing weight of the loneliness he’s been bearing lighten a little. His chest tightens.

Clark wishes he could tell her again how much her kindness means to him. A kindness he’s rarely, so rarely felt before. One he could never repay.

The words don’t come, though, and so he simply squeezes back, hoping she understands.

____________________________________________

After it’s all over, after he’s snapped the life out of the only one of his people left, after he’s fallen on his knees, she’s here.

She holds him close, a reassuring hand on his shoulder protecting him from the world, from himself. Her fingers thread in his hair as she whispers that it’s okay, that he’s saved them all. That it wasn’t his fault, and that she’s here.

He holds on to her as if she’s the only thing keeping him grounded, keeping him safe. In that moment, she is.

He’s not really sure how long they stay here, or how she gets him to stand. She does, though, and, thanks to her, he manages to get enough of a grip of himself to start helping with the rescue of the people that have survived.

(Before he goes, she squeezes his hand and kisses his cheek, whispering to him that she’ll be here when he’s done. Her eyes, soft, her voice, confident despite the chaos that’s surrounding her. Her own city, turned to ashes.)

He doesn’t see her for weeks, after that. Three, to be exact.

He’s counted every day.

He rescues as many as he can, helps with clearing out the ruins, follows the instructions to begin the reconstruction. Metropolis, Smallville, the whole Pacific area. There’s so much to do.

He only stops to check on his mother and repair the house, or when he starts to feel his strength leave him despite having recharged. The first time it happens, he’s been at it for a little over 48 hours straight.

He’s a little afraid to show up at her doorstep after so long, but he does anyway. When she spots him waiting from her elevator and throws herself into his arms, her grocery bag falling heavily on the ground in her haste, Clark feels like he can properly breathe for the first time in days.

In the weeks that follow, she helps him. Clark wonders if she’ll ever stop doing that, and finds himself selfishly hoping that she never does. She helps him help them, in a reconstruction effort that feels more and more possible each day. She forces him to rest and eat and sleep, hands on her hips and what he soon begins to recognize as a ‘this is not up for discussion’ face. She paces back and forth in her small living room as they try to find out what job could fit him, beams when they do. She helps him for days and days until he has a convincing application to send to Perry.

When he gets hired at the Daily Planet, she whispers to him how proud she is, and Clark feels like his heart might burst out of his chest.

She does all that, makes it all possible, and next to that, she does everything else.

Her articles on the attack, and then on the reconstruction, break records in online reading. She helps her neighbours, goes out to stay with Jenny one night when the young intern relives the whole thing all over again. She volunteers.

Clark can see it in her eyes, though. The shadow there sometimes, when they fall on unattended ruins, or pass by that café she used to like, and is now nothing more than dust. How she tears up sometimes, whenever they broadcast images of the invasion. The nightmares.

(He holds her, keeping her close at night. Listening to her quiet confessions as they lay in her bed. He wishes he could do more.)

But, despite all of that, she keeps going - always. Keeps him going, never complaining, her resolve never wavering.

She’s strong, a force of nature, and Clark wonders what he possibly did to deserve her.

____________________________________________

When he first tells her that her heartbeat is the sound he now focuses on to drown out the world’s noise and stay sane, he hears it skip a beat.

Seconds pass, and she’s still not saying anything - she simply stares at him, mouth a little agap. They’re in her bed, him sitting against the headboard and her straddling him, and the soft hands that were cupping his face have now fallen to his neck.

He’s terrified.

He should have known better, of course. Six months isn’t that long, and knowing that an alien that you’ve known for such a short time is monitoring you like this is probably something no one wants to hear. Her heartbeat is skyrocketing now, just like his own, and he hates himself for scaring her like that. For letting himself get carried away, when he knows that’s something he can never afford.

He’s about to tell her, to apologize and promises he’ll stop, that he’ll even leave right now to give her some space, but then she kisses him, soft and tender as her fingers thread in his hair.

When he opens his eyes, she’s already looking at him.

“I love you,” she says. In his chest, he feels like his heart explodes.

____________________________________________

He’s in love with Lois Lane.

And he likes her smile, likes her drive and kindness. Her strength.

But then, there’s hundreds of other things, too. Things that make her Lois, and that make him fall a little deeper for her every day. How he can love her more and more than he already does, he has no idea.

It’s those eyes, clear and deep and piercing, just like her. How she says his name. The beauty mark on her hip, the freckles on her skin. The way she always falls asleep drooling on him during movie night, but will never admit to it. The small, happy sigh she makes when he comes back after a night of being Superman, and curls his body around hers.

There’s the way she always fights against injustice, whether it is standing up against racial discrimination one day where they’re shopping, or publishing a two-part story to take down a corrupted politician.The glimmer in her eye when she’s got a new lead, and the unapologetic pride when her article turns into a success. The smile full of that same pride when he comes home after having saved the day once again.

It’s everything, he realizes. He loves everything about her.

When she offers that they move in together, there’s something close to worry on her face as she waits for him to speak. If only she knew.

Chuckling, Clark leans down and kisses her, whispering his answer against her lips.

#clark x lois #clois #lois lane #clark kent #man of steel #fics #this has been sitting in my computer for years #so sorry for the delay #i'm back writing these two and i have writer's block on my Justice League follow up #so feel free to send asks #clois fics

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unmaskedagain · 4 years

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Archenemies to Superfriends

Do you know how hard it is to make Lila likeable? Do you know the struggle I went through to write this fic? I know I said I wanted a challenge, something unique. BUT WHAT THE HELL! This took me longer than my last two fics combined. Class salt but make Lila the good guy? Like seriously, do you hate me? I hope the Anon requester likes this.

"I regret that we meet in this way. You and I are of a kind. In a different reality, I could have called you friend." — Romulan Commander, Star Trek: The Original Series, "Balance of Terror"

It turned out there was a line Lila Rossi wouldn’t even cross. Sure, she wasn’t the nicest person in the world. Far from it. She was a liar, a thief, a cheater, a bully at times, a social climber.

But she wasn’t a monster.

As she looked the sketchbook in Alya’s hand, and the vindictive look on her face; Lila realized what was about to take place would push her over the line into monster status.

The school day had just ended. Most students had already left. Lila had been about to leave when Alya stopped her.

“How? How did you get it?” Lila asked. Surely Marinette wasn’t foolish enough to leave it around.

It was Alix who preened, “I snuck it out of her bag.”

“She’s been so mean to you, girl,” Alya said. “Marinette needs to learn a lesson.”

No, Marinette hadn’t been mean to her. Lila never even implied the bluenette had been mean to her. Lila spun her stories to the class, and whenever Marinette called her out for lying (which she was), the class would gang up on the Bluenette and accuse her of being jealous, of bullying poor Lila.

It was actually rather startling how fast the so call best friends had turned on the girl. Lila didn’t even have to push or instigate it like she usually did. No, a few promises of meeting famous celebrities, and they all rushed to do it on their own.

Rose’s sleepover. Rose didn’t invite Marinette at the other girls’ insistence so Lila wouldn’t feel unease.

Nino’s party. No one mentioned it Marinette. She had been acting crazily lately.

Trip to the movie. Marinette would just ruin it for everybody.

And so on and so forth. Until the class was going out of their way to avoid the bluenette. Some even went as far as verbally bashing the other girl and ending their friendships. It got to the point where no one, not even Adrien, would speak to Marinette; and ostracized her to the back of the class. Only Chloe defended the girl and sought out her friendship. To which Alya snorted, “Of course. Bullies belong with bullies.”

Now the class had moved on to destroying private property. Great.

Lila sighed. How was she going to get herself out of this one?

Lila prided herself on still being able to look at herself in the mirror at the end of the day. Despite all she had done and would be willing to do; Lila was firm on what she wouldn’t do.

Destroying someone’s life work; something they had spent months and months on, something that had nothing to do with Lila, was going too far.

Lila needed to move quickly. She eyed the sketchbook. It was a standard black sketchbook, nothing special. She owned a similar one herself that she used for quick doodles and to write down ideas.

That was when Lila got an idea. She quickly put her school books on the desk and beamed at her moronic classmates. Then all it took were quick sad eyes, and a can I hold it first, please. For Alya to hand it over. Then Lila accidentally spilled all off her books on the ground, and when everyone rushed to help her. Lila switched the two sketchbooks.

Then it took her classmates, not friends (never friends); Alya, Max Alix, Kim, Nino, Mylene, Ivan, all of ten seconds to destroy the book into as little pieces as they could. Never even bothering to look to see if it was actually Marinette’s work.

They left the pieces scattered on Marinette’s desk.

Just as they finished said girl rushed back into class, a frantic searching look on her face. It took her five seconds to notice the torn sketchbook on her desk. Pure devastation overtook her face, tears filled her blue eyes.

Alya snipped a mean retort about Karma and left the class with the other students following behind her. Not realizing Lila wasn’t among them. Not caring that she had just hurt the girl she had sworn was her bestie not too long ago.

Marinette stared quietly at the mess, not letting the tears fall. “Why?” She whispered.

“I didn’t have anything to do with this,” Lila told her. “You don’ have to believe me. But I swear I didn’t. This isn’t my m.o.”

Marinette wanted to lash out at the other girl; scream about it being her fault, and her being a liar. But she couldn’t even find words to speak.

“Here,” Lila said as she handed over the sketchbook. “I switched it with mine before they could… you know.”

Marinette blinked once, then twice, before she slowly reached for the book; hope filling her. And sure enough. Relief rushed through her. She thanked all the kwami. “Why?” She asked Lila. “You hate me.” That had been the basis for their relationship for months.

Lila snorted, “I don’t hate you. I don’t hate anyone,” She shrugged. “Hate clouds judgment. You’re just my competition. No one likes their rival team.”

Marinette stared at the Italian girl. Rival team? Competition? What? “We’re not even competing for anything! If it's about Adrien. He’s yours. I don’t want him.” It turned out, the blond was too cowardly for her taste. Not enough backbone.

“Of course we’re competing!” Lila snapped. “Since I got to this school.”

“Over what?”

It was Lila’s turn to stare. Didn’t the other girl know? Hadn’t they been fighting for the top spot?

“Being the most popular girl in school.”

Marinette just looked confused. “But I’m not popular. Especially not now.”

“Not popular?” Lila could’ve cursed. “Not popular! On my first day, I didn’t go more than a foot before someone mentioned the wonderful Marinette. She’s so smart. She’s so sweet. She’s so EVERYTHING. I knew from day one we were archenemies. You knew it too. Why else would you try to call me out so much!”

“…I just don’t like liars.”

That time Lila did scream.

Because it wasn’t possible. There was no way Marinette Dupain-Cheng hadn’t even realized they had been competing. This wasn’t just some delusional one-side battle on Lila’s side. No way.

“Why me?” Marinette asked, with a tilted head, reminded Lila of a puppy. “There are tons of more popular girls. Aurore; she’s the most beautiful girl in school. Ondine, she’s the best athlete. Ruby in drama was literally voted the most popular kid in school last year.”

“That’s different,” Lila waved it off. “Those girls are popular for one specific thing. Even Ruby was only voted because she throws the best parties. And even then, most only like them for that thing. Everyone likes you.” Or at least all but one class now.

A class that had proven to be worthless. Lila was starting to realize that she had been playing against her most noteworthy opponent, who apparently never realized they were competing, in a less than worthwhile game to be the most popular girl in class to get the approval of the students. Students who, again, weren’t worth it.

“You’re the only one worth a damn in this school,” Lila admitted as she sat down at her desk. “That’s why you. You’re the best. I want to beat the best.”

She never attacked the weak. She attacked the strong. She went after the strongest of the strong. Lila thrived off competition. She just didn’t want to win. She wanted to be The Winner. Lila wanted the number one spot engraved with her name. To do that she had to beat the best.

Her motto: A hero is only as good as his villain. The reverse is also true.

Lila knew since was a little girl that she would never make it the big leagues if she only fought small fries. So in every school, in every class; Lila found what was most important to her fellow students and went after it. Some school was easy. A few classes valued music; Lila started a band, with her as the lead singer, and knocked out her competition. Sports freaks; Lila always had a knack for futbol. Everyone in class fought to have the best grades (It only happened once) but Lila said bring it on.

Even she had to cheat, sabotage, lie, or whatever else to get to the top she’d do it. And she did. And she was always won.

She was the most popular kid in school within the month. Always.

As for her competition. Some fell easily; too easily for her taste. Some took months to fall. One guy took an entire year. His name had been Felix, and he been Lila’s favorite nemesis. He had fought with everything he had; pushed Lila far beyond her limits and made her think outside the box every time they went head to head.

He had been the joker to her Batman. (Afterall, every villain is a hero in their own mind)

But eventually, even Felix fell.

It had been glorious. A high that Lila road all the way to her new school in France.

Looking back, Lila should’ve known better. She should’ve known that Felix had been preparing her for her greatest battle yet. The fight of her lifetime. Against the greatest opponent, she would ever know.

Marinette.

The Superman to her Batman. All good things good and pure Versus the big bad of the night.

It had been a fight Lila had been waiting for her life. And yet it turned out, Marinette never even really noticed.

And to think, Lila had thought she had been winning. The class turned again Marinette. Everyone loved Lila. Except none of it seemed to bother the other girl. In fact, she seemed to get stronger.

For every friend Marinette lost, she found another; a better one. Aurore, Claude, Ondine, Marc, Luka, Bridgette; the list went on and on.

Alya voted to have Marinette removed as class president. Marinette gets on the student council. The class loses its most organized student. Lila declines the role of feigning that she was too busy. To make it worse all the well-planned birthday parties, school trips, free costume designer, and the random sweet day where baked goods were brought to class on particularly stressful school days, (all of which Lila had enjoyed).

Adrien no longer speaking to her. (Honestly, Lila never saw what anyone saw in the blond model besides the potential connection he offered. He was naive and a far too idealistic for her taste). Marinette gets twelve different boys, and three girls, asking her to the sweethearts dance.

Without the class clinging to her and demanding her time, Marinette seemed to thrive. No longer stressed; rarely ever late. Lila, on the other hand, found her days busier and busier as her classmates tried to lean on her more.

No matter the bad thing that happened, Marinette just stronger. And she never lost her positive attitude.

Marinette shook her head. This one turning out to be one strange day. “If you want the class, you can them. They’re my friends anymore.” She glanced at the pieces of the sketchbook on her desk. “I don’t know who they are in anymore.”

“Fame seekers,” Lila answered. “More concerned with what someone can do for than actual friendships. You get used to them.” She paused. “I don’t want them either. They’re…”

“Taxing,” Marinette offered as she sat down next to Lila. “Emotionally draining. Opinionated. Users.”

“Bad friends.”

“That too.”

It went quiet. Neither girl knowing what to say. Lila didn’t know what to do now that all competition was all but officially declared over. Marinette realized that her ex-friends' actions couldn’t be blamed on Lila. Everything they did was on their own. Forgiveness wasn’t going to happen. So what are they fighting for? What could they fight for?

“Truce?” Marinette offered. “I let the morons believe whatever you want. And you just leave me out of it.”

Lila nodded, “You go your way. I go mine.”

This was worse than Superman V Batman movie ending as far as Lila was concerned. At least no one died.

That was it. They left school that day feeling a little shook. Each girl agreed to move on and avoid each other.

Except that wasn’t what happened.

Somehow, slowly, Lila and Marinette became friends.

It started off small. Lila had needed a break from her groupies and hid in the art room. Marinette had been working in there.

“They too much again?” Marinette asked.

Lila winced but nodded.

“I used to hide in the back of the library,” Marinette offered. “On the roof. Any random classroom I could find. Sometimes, I even just left for my parents.”

“Seriously?” Lila asked. “They’ve always been like this.”

Marinette snorted. “Worse. Wait until they start asking you for favors. Which will turn into demands.”

“…They are just the worst.”

Then both girls laughed.

After that whenever Lila needed a break, she sought out the presence of the other girl. Sometimes they hung out in the library, on the roof, wherever. It was nice.

It wasn’t until Lila showed up in Marinette’s room, bitching about her mom canceling their plans together again. Marinette just listens to Lila’s sorrows and offered ice cream. They spent the entire night just bitching and watching reruns of Doctor Who. (It turned out Lila was a bit of nerd.) Lila slept over and slept easily for the first time in months.

That was when the two realized they were friends.

Marinette, Lila’s once declared greatest enemy, became her first real friend.

After that everything just fell together. Lila started showing up at Marinette’s and more.

Eventually, Lila being invited to Marinette’s girls’ night and being introduced to a new friend to Chloe, Kagami, Aurore, and Ondine.

Upon seeing her, Chloe snorted, “She got you too, huh. It’s the eyes. Don’t look her in the eyes.”

“Yes,” Kagami agreed. “I, too, had declared Marinette my rival. Now I wear bunny pajamas and adorn avocado oatmeal face masks.”

Well shit, Lila thought as she eyed Marinette’s former rivals, did I ever stand a chance?

The answer was no.

But Lila didn’t mind.

After that Chloe found herself having more actually friends than ever before. In Chloe, she found a second-best friend. Someone she could always bitch with, and not just to. The blond had the presence Lila had always strived for. Chloe stalked through the hall like a model on the runway. People jumped out of her way. She was a phenomenal force to be reckoned, likened to Wonder Woman.

Marinette and Lila were two peas in a pod. They both strived to the best, thrived under pressure, and loved fashion. But while Lila wanted to model and be in front of the camera, Marinette wanted to design.

Lila loved Marinette’s clothes and decided the girl need a bit of a push. So she reached out to Chloe, and together they teamed up to convince Marinette to start her own website. It took a bit of work but MDC designs were officially online. All designs, of course, were modeled by Lila, Chloe, and Marinette’s other girlfriends. Lila had never felt so glamorous. Marinette never looked so happy.

Lila started being the one Marinette went to whenever she needed someone to cover for babysitting. Or had to have a random excuse as to why she wasn’t present. And Lila did both jobs remarkably well.

Still, despite their friendship, Lila was a bit surprised to get Marinette’s birthday invitation. Marinette made her promise not to tell anyone. Even more so, when Marinette took her and Chloe, Kagami, Luka, Claude, Marc, Aurore, and Ondine to Clara Nightingale concert. They had backstage passed and Lila nearly died when Clara rushed over to hug Marinette after a song. Lila took a lot of pictures, even one of her and the superstar together, but didn’t post them.

Which left Marinette happily surprised. Apart, though small, still expected Lila to boast in class about the additional celebrity she knew. But that never happened. Marinette felt relief and a bit guilty, she supposed some part of her was testing the other girl to see if she could trust her; and was happy to find out Lila had passed.

Despite their Lila and Marinette’s friendship things at school didn’t change. The other students in class still froze Marinette out. Lila, though, did her best to keep them from doing anything mean to the bluenette. Though this only happened when the other students needed something Marinette used to do for them; like free babysitting, custom-designed dresses, stage design, and interview with Ladybug, it wasn’t going to happen. Or when the class trips were lackluster at best.

Lila hadn’t realized just how much she and Marinette had grown to like and trust each other until Ladybug showed up in her room. She was prepared to send a barging remark to the hero who had nearly sabotaged her attempts to win over Adrien, thus the rest of the class, when Ladybug spoke.

“Marinette sent me,” The red hero said. “She said I could trust you; that you’d make a good hero.” And then Ladybug showed her the fox miraculous, a replica of the one Lila used to wear.

Lila’s mouth dropped opened.

“As soon as the fight’s done, you’ll need to return it to me,” Ladybug stated firmly. “Do you understand.”

And just like that Volpina was reborn. Her costume was darker than before, her tail a bit longer and curved. Her mask black.

Ladybug and Volpina fought side by side against a Clown Akuma that turn people into balloon animals. During the fight, Volpina learned that Chat Noir had, once again, abandoned Ladybug after the hero turned down his affections. Lila never felt so much disgust. What kind of hero was that?

After the fight, Volpina and Ladybug met back up in Lila’s room and Lila immediately handed over the miraculous.

“Thanks for the help,” Ladybug smiled as he pocked the necklace.

Lila nodded, “Chat Noir was wrong. What he’s doing is sexual harassment. Like seriously, look it up. No means no. You shouldn’t have to take that.”

“He’s my partner.”

“He’s not acting like it.”

The words seemed to affect Ladybug who visibly wilted. She didn’t say another word as she left.

However, not long after Lila found herself being called forth to fight as Volpina more and more. Chat Noir never showing up once.

When both heroines were confronted by a furious Alya, live streaming, Lila learned something.

“What happened to Rena Rouge?” Alya demanded, hurt and anger in her eyes. “Why replace her with this faux-hero? And what about the rest of the new team Miraculous; Viperion, BrightRoar, and Ryuko. What about the old team?”

Faux-hero? Ladybug had to physically stop Volpina from ripping into the reporter.

“Rena Rouge has been retired,” Ladybug glared. “She proved herself to be untrustworthy. In fact, all former heroes such as Caraprace and Chat Noir have been retired. They have been replaced by permanent heroes like Volpina, here, Queen Bee, Viperion, BrightRoar, and Ryuko. They have proven themselves to loyal and capable heroes.”

No one knew who was more stunned Lila or Alya. She was a permanent hero? Chat Noir had been replaced? What?

“What?” Alya asked. “Rena was amazing. A much better hero than some people,” She gave a dirty look to Volpina. “And You and Chat Noir belonged together. Everyone says so!”

“Rena was a good hero,” Ladybug said. “But outside the mask, she proved herself unworthy. As for me and Chat Noir. I’ve said countless times, I felt nothing but friendship for him. It was Chat Noir and tabloid sites like the Ladyblog that hyped up that nonsense.”

“Tabloid?” Alya shrieked.

“Yes, tabloid.” Ladybug hissed. “Why do think I stopped working with you?”

In retrospect, Lila should’ve realized sooner the fallout that would happen not long after. Alya wasn’t the type of person to own up to her own mistakes. However, Lila had been so busy cheering at being a new permanent hero that she got a little distracted.

After Ladybug called her out, Alya spent all every ounce energy to find out how she went from Ladybug’s goto to Ladybug’s no go. And then answer was in the comments to her videos of Lila. All calling out the Italian to be a liar.

By Monday, everyone in the class knew. As soon as Lila walked into class, Alya tore into accused her of lying and ruining her blog.

TO which Lila gave big crocodile tear-filled eyes, “I just wanted to make friends.” She tried to gain sympathy. It didn’t work.

Soon all the class was screaming at her.

It stopped when Bustier and Marinette walked into class.

Bustier looked like a deer caught in the headlines, unsure of what to do.

Marinette had looked directly at Lila, “You can sit in back with me and Chloe.”

“Girl’s, she a liar,” Alya hissed. “You were right.”

Marinette scoffed, “And yet she’s a better friend than you ever were.” She looked at Lila again, ignoring the protests from her classmates around her. “Come on.

Lila smiled as the two girls made their way to the back of the classroom to join Chloe in the back.

Lila, Marinette, and Chloe sent matching Ice Queen looks to the rest of the students in class; daring them to say something, to approach.

And just like the heroes: Batman, Superman, and Wonder Woman, Lila likened them to be; no one would even consider it.

It wasn’t like anyone else in the class was worth a damn anyway.

#ml salt #Marinette deserves better #marinette dupen chang #chloe bourgeois #lila rossi #class salt

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theliterateape · 3 years

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I Like to Watch | Zack Snyder’s Justice League

by Don Hall

Mythology is fun.

As a kid I loved reading Edith Hamilton’s book on the Greek gods and the myths. Hercules, Perseus, Apollo, and Hera—this fell completely in line with my love for superhero comics. The strangely petty human traits of envy, greed, and lust combined with the power to level cities make for some great storytelling.

Zeus was basically Harvey Weinstein in the retroactive revision we’re mired in today. If Harvey could’ve changed into a golden animal and boned unsuspecting ladies looking for careers in Hollywood I’m pretty certain he would. The gods and demi-gods of the Greeks dealt with daddy issues, mommy issues, bad relationships, and fighting. Lots of fighting. Sometimes for the good of humanity but more often for the glory of winning.

Zach Snyder is in the business of tackling myths and reframing them with a style all his own. His career has become its own myth.

From Dawn of the Dead (not so much a reboot of Romero's zombie mythology but a philosophical reimagining of the genre that arguably jumpstarted The Hollywood fascination with it), 300 (a borderline homoerotic take on the myth of the Greek underdog), and Watchmen (a ridiculously ambitious attempt to put one of the most iconic takedowns on the potential fascism of the superhero legend machine ever written) to his nearly single-handed hack at answering the Marvel juggernaut with Man of Steel and Batman vs Superman: Dawn of Justice, Snyder is in the artistic business of subverting and re-envisioning the mythologies we embrace without even seeing them as such.

Snyder's style is operatic. It is on a grand scale even in the most mundane moments. The guy loves slow motion like Scorcese loves mobsters and Italian food. When you're tackling big themes with larger than life stories, the epic nature of his vision makes sense and has alienated a good number of audience members. With such excess, there are bound to be missteps but I'd argue that his massive take on these characters he molds from common understanding and popular nomenclature elevates them to god-like stature.

Fans of Moore's Watchmen have much to complain about Snyder's adaptation. The titular graphic novel is almost impossible to put in any other form than the one Moore intended and yet, Snyder jumped in feet-first and created a living, breathing representation of most, if not all, of the source material's intent. Whether you dig on it or not, it's hard to avoid acknowledging that the first five minutes of Watchmen is a mini-masterpiece of style, storytelling, and epic tragedy wrapped up in a music video.

Despite a host of critical backlash for his one fully original take, Sucker Punch is an amazing thing to see. More a commentary on video game enthusiasm with its lust for hot animated chicks and over-the-top violence that a celebration of cleavage and guns, the film is crazily entertaining. For those who hated the ending, he told you in the title what his plan was all along.

The first movie I saw in the theaters that tried to take a superhero mythology and treat it seriously (for the most part) was Richard Donner's Superman: The Movie. Never as big a fan of the DC characters as I have been of Marvel, it was still extraordinary to see a character I had only really known in pages to be so fully realized. Then came Burton's Batman movies. The superhero film was still an anomaly but steam was gaining. Things changed with Bryan Singer's X-Men in 2000, then Raimi's Spiderman, and those of us who grew up with our pulpy versions of Athena, Hermes, and Hades were rewarded with Nolan's Batman Begins. A far cry from the tongue-in-cheek camp of the 1966 TV Batman, Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne was a serious character and his tale over three films is a tragic commentary filled with the kind of death and betrayal and triumph befitting the grand narrative he deserved.

I loved Singer's Superman Returns in 2006 because it was such a love letter to the 1978 film (down to the opening credits) but by then, the MCU was taking over the world.

Snyder's first of what turns out to be an epic storyline involving perhaps seven or eight movies was Man of Steel. It was fun and, while I had my issues with the broodiness of Kal El, the odd take on Jonathan Kent, and a redheaded Lois Lane, I had no issue with Superman snapping Zod's neck. Darker and more tragic than any other version of the Kryptonian, it was still super entertaining.

Then came Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice. By 2016, Marvel had codified their formula of serious characters wrestling with serious issues of power and responsibility peppered with lots of good humor and bright colors. Snyder's desaturated pallete and angst-filled demi-gods was not the obvious road to financial competition.

I'll confess, I hated it. BvS felt half-rendered. Lex Luthor was kind of superficial and played as a kind of Joker. The whole Bruce Wayne wants to kill Superman thing felt undeveloped and the "Martha" moment was just stupid.

When Joss Whedon's version of Snyder's Justice League came out in 2017, I was primed for it to be a turd and I wasn't surprised. So much of it didn't work on any level. I dismissed it as DC trying and failing miserably and was comforted by the coming of Thanos.

Following Thanos and the time heist was COVID. Suddenly, we were internationally sidelined and the movie theater industry caved in. Streaming services started popping up like knock-off smartphones and Hollywood was reeling, doing anything and everything to find a way back. Since Whedon's disastrous helming of Snyder's third act, fans online had been demanding to #ReleasetheSnyderCut but no one was ever really taking them seriously until all movie production was shut down for a year.

The stage was set to remedy a mistake (or at least make some bucks on a do-over of a huge box office failure). Snyder had left the production in part because of the suicide of his daughter and in part due to the constant artistic fights over executives looking for the quippy fun of the MCU but he still had all the original footage. Add to that the broiling accusations that Joss Whedon was "abusive" during the reshoots, the path seemed destined. For an additional $70 million and complete control, Snyder delivered a four hour mega-movie streamed on HBOMax.

Of course, I was going to watch the thing as soon as I could.

The Whedon version opens with an homage to the now dead Superman (including the much maligned digitally erased mustache on Henry Cavill). The SynderCut opens with the death of Superman and the agony of his death scream as it travels across the planet. It's a simple change but exemplifies the very different visions of how this thing is gonna play out.

Snyder doesn't want us to be OK with the power of these beings unleashed. He wants us to feel the damage and pain of death. He wants the results of violence to be as real as he can. When Marvel's Steve Rogers kicks a thug across the room and the thug hits a wall, he crumples and it is effectively over. When Batman does the same thing, we see the broken bones (often in slow motion) and the blood smear on the wall as the thug slides to the ground.

The longer SnyderCut is bloated in some places (like the extended Celtic choir singing Aquaman off to sea or the extended narrations by Wonder Woman which sound slightly like someone trying to explain the plot to Siri). On the other hand, the scene with Barry Allen saving Iris West is both endearing and extraordinary, giving insight to the power of the Flash as well as some essential character-building in contrast to Whedon's comic foil version.

One thing I noticed in this variant is that Zach wants the audience to experience the sequence of every moment as the characters do. An example comes when Diana Prince goes to the crypt to see the very plot she belabors over later. The sequence is simple. She gets a torch and goes down. Most directors which jump cut to the torch. Snyder gives us five beats as she grabs the timber, wraps cloth around the end, soaks it with kerosene, pulls out a box of matches, and lights the torch. Then she goes down the dark passageway.

The gigantic, lush diversity of Snyder’s vision of the DC superhero universe—from the long shots of the sea life in the world of Atlantis to the ancient structures and equipment of Themyscira— is almost painterly. Snyder isn't taking our time; he's taking his time. We are rewarded our patience with a far better backstory for the villain, a beautifully rendered historic battle thwarting Darkseid's initial invasion (including a fucking Green Lantern), and answers to a score of questions set up in both previous films.

Whedon's Bruce Wayne was more Ben Affleck; Snyder's is full-on Frank Miller Batman, the smartest, most brutal fucker in the room. Cyborg, instead of Whedon's sidelined non-character, is now a Frankenstein's monster, grappling with the trade-off between acceptance and enormous power. Wonder Woman is now more in line with the Patty Jenkins version and instead of being told about the loss of Superman, we are forced to live with the anguish of both his mother and Lois Lane in quiet moments of incredible grief.

To be fair to Whedon (something few are willing to do as he is now being castigated not for racism or sexism but for being mean to people) having him come in to throw in some levity and Marvel-esque color to Snyder's Wagnerian pomposity is like hiring Huey Lewis to lighten up Pink Floyd's The Wall or getting Douglas Adams to rewrite Cormac McCarthy's The Road.

I loved Snyder's self-indulgent, mythologic DC universe.

So much so that I then re-watched Man of Steel and then watched the director's version of BvS (which Snyder added approximately 32 minutes). The second film is far better at three hours and Eisenberg's Lex Luthor now makes sense. Then I watched Zach Snyder's Justice League a second time.

After nineteen hours of Snyder's re-imagining of these DC heroes and villains, I saw details that, upon first viewing, are ignored or dismissed, but after seeing them in order and complete, are suddenly consistent and relevant. Like Nolan or Fincher, Snyder defies anyone to eliminate even one piece of his narrative no matter how long. With all the pieces, this is an epic story and the pieces left at the extended epilogue play into a grander narrative we will never see.

Or maybe we will. Who knows these days?

#I Like to Watch #Zach Snyder's Justice League

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

Text

Enola Holmes: A Not So Elementary Adaptation

It's cliché and a bit unfair to say that the book was better than the film, but I'm afraid that's precisely where I need to start. Nancy Springer's Enola Holmes: The Case of the Missing Marquess is leagues better than Netflix's adaptation of it. They did her work dirty and to say that I'm shocked at the accolades other reviewers are heaping on the film is an understatement. Before I dive into any critiques though, it's worth acknowledging that not every minute of the two hour film was painful to get through. So what worked in Enola Holmes?

The film is carried by the talent of its cast, Millie Bobby Brown being the obvious heavy-hitter. She helps breathe life into a pretty terrible script and it's only a shame her talent is wasted on such a subpar character.

The idea to have Enola continually break the fourth wall, though edging into the realm of Dora the Explorer at times—"Do you have any ideas?"— was nevertheless a fun way to keep the audience looped into her thought process. Young viewers in particular might enjoy it as a way to make them feel like a part of the action and older viewers will note the Fleabag influence.

The cinematography is, perhaps, where most of my praise lies. The rapid cuts between past and present, rewinding as Enola thinks back to some pertinent detail, visualizing the cyphers with close ups on the letter tiles—all of it gave the film an upbeat, entertaining flair that almost made up for how bloated and meandering the plot was.

We got an equally upbeat soundtrack that helped to sell the action.

The overall experience was... fine. In the way a cobbled together, candy-coated, meant to be seen on a Friday night but we watched it Wednesday and then promptly forgot about it film is fine. I doubt Enola Holmes will be winning any awards, but it was a decently entertaining romp and really, does a Netflix film need to be anything more? If Enola was her own thing made entirely by Netflix's hands I wouldn't be writing this review. As it stands though, Enola is both an adaptation and the latest addition to one of the world’s most popular franchises. That's where the film fails: not as a fun diversion to take your mind off Covid-19, but as an adaptation of Springer's work and as a Sherlock Holmes story.

In short, Enola Holmes, though pretty to look at and entertaining in a predictable manner, still fails in five crucial areas:

1. Mycroft is Now a Mustache-Twirling Villain and Sherlock is No Longer Sherlock Holmes

This aspect is the least egregious because admittedly the film didn't pull this version of Mycroft out of thin air. As the head of the household he is indeed Enola's primary antagonist (outside of some kidnappers) and though he insists that he's doing all this for Enola's own good, he does get downright cruel at times:

He rolled his eyes. “Just like her mother,” he declared to the ceiling, and then he fixed upon me a stare so martyred, so condescending, that I froze rigid. In tones of sweetest reason he told me, “Enola, legally I hold complete charge over both your mother and you. I can, if I wish, lock you in your room until you become sensible, or take whatever other measures are necessary in order to achieve that desired result... You will do as I say" (Springer 69).

Mycroft's part is clear. He's the white, rich, powerful, able-bodied man who benefits from society's structure and thus would never think to change it. He does legally have charge over both Enola and Eudoria. He can do whatever he pleases to make them "sensible"... and that right there is the horror of it. Mycroft is a law-abiding man whose antagonism stems from doing precisely what he's allowed to do in a broken world. There are certainly elements of this in the Netflix adaptation, but that antagonism becomes so exaggerated that it's nearly laughable. Enola's governess (appointed by Mycroft) slaps her across the face the moment she speaks up. Mycroft screams at her in a carriage until she's cowering against the window. He takes her and throws her into a boarding school where everything is bleak and all the women dutifully follow instructions like hypnotized dolls. Enola Holmes ensures that we've lost all of Springer's nuance, notably the criticism of otherwise decent people who fall into the trap of doing the "right" (read: expected) thing. Despite her desire for freedom, in the novel Enola quickly realizes that she is not immune to society's standards:

"I thought he was younger.” Much younger, in his curled tresses and storybook suit. Twelve! Why, the boy should be wearing a sturdy woollen jacket and knickers, an Eton collar with a tie, and a decent manly haircut—

Thoughts, I realised, all too similar to those of my brother Sherlock upon meeting me (113-14).

She is precisely like her brothers, judging a boy for not looking and acting enough like a man just as they judged her for not looking and acting enough like a lady. The difference is that Enola has chaffed enough against those expectations to realize when she's falling prey to them, but the sympathetic link to her brothers remains. In the film, however, the conflict is no longer driven by fallible people doing what they think is best. Rather, it's made clear (in no uncertain terms) that these are just objectively bad people. Only villains hit someone like that. Only villains will scream at the top of their lungs until a young girl cries. Only villains roll their eyes at women's rights (a subplot that never existed in the novel). Springer writes Mycroft as a person, Netflix writes him as a cartoon, and the result is the loss of a nuanced message about what it means to enact change in a complicated world.

Which leaves us with Sherlock. Note that in the above passage he is the one who casts harsh judgement on Enola's outfit. Originally Mycroft took an interest in making Enola "sensible" and Sherlock— in true Holmes fashion—straddles a fine line between comfort and insult:

"Mycroft,” Sherlock intervened, “the girl's head, you'll observe, is rather small in proportion to her remarkably tall body. Let her alone. There is no use confusing and upsetting her when you'll find out for yourself soon enough'" (38).

***

"Could mean that she left impulsively and in haste, or it could reflect the innate untidiness of a woman's mind,” interrupted Sherlock. “Of what use is reason when it comes to the dealings of a woman, and very likely one in her dotage?" (43).

A large part of Enola's drive stems from proving to Sherlock, the world, and even herself that a small head does not mean lack of intelligence. His insults, couched in a misguided attempt to sooth, is what makes Sherlock a complex character and his broader sexism is what makes him a flawed character, not Superman in a tweed suit. Yet in the film Mycroft becomes the villain and Sherlock is his good brother foil. Rather than needing to acknowledge that Enola has a knack for deduction by reading the excellent questions she's asked about the case—because why give your characters any development?—he already adores and has complete faith in her, laughing that he too likes to draw caricatures to think. By the tree Sherlock remanences fondly about Enola's childhood where she demonstrated appropriately quirky preferences for a genius, things like not wearing trousers and keeping a pinecone for a pet. They have a clear connection that Mycroft could never understand, one based both in deduction and, it seems, being a halfway decent human being. We are told that Enola has Sherlock's wits, but poor Mycroft lucked out, despite the fact that up until this point the film has done nothing to demonstrate this supposed intelligence. (To say nothing of how canonically Mycroft's intellect rivals his brother's.) Enola falls to her knees and begs for Sherlock's help, saying that "For [Mycroft] I'm a nuisance, to you—" implying that they have a deep bond despite not having seen one another since Enola was a toddler. Indeed, at one point Enola challenges Lestrade to a Sherlock quiz filled with information presumably not found in the newspaper clippings she's saved of him, which begs the question of how she knows her brother so well when she hasn't seen him in a decade and he, in turn, walked right by her with no recognition. Truthfully, Lestrade should know Sherlock better. Through all this the sibling bond is used as a heavy-handed insistence that Enola is Sherlock's protégé, him leaving her with the advice that "Those kinds of mysteries are always the best to unpick” and straight up asking at one point if she’s solved the case. The plot has Enola gearing up to outwit her genius brother, which did not happen in the novel and is precisely why I loved it. Enola isn't out to be a master of deduction in her teens, she's a finder of lost people who uses a similar, but ultimately unique set of skills. She does things Sherlock can't because she is isn't Sherlock. They're not in competition, they're peers, yet the film fails to understand that, using Sherlock's good brother bonding to emphasize Enola's place as his protégé turned superior. He exists, peppered throughout the film, so that she can surpass him in the end.

You know what happens in the novel? Sherlock walks away from her, dismissive, and that's that.

That's also Sherlock Holmes. I won't bore you with complaints about Cavill being too handsome and Claflin being too thin for their respective parts, but I will draw the line at complete character assassination. Part of Sherlock's charm is that he's far more compassionate than he first appears, but that doesn't mean he would, at the drop of a telegram, become a doting older brother to a sister of all things. Despite the absurdity of the Doyle Estate's lawsuit against Netflix for making Sherlock an emotional man who respects women... they're right that this isn't their character. Oh, Sherlock is emotive, but it's in the form of excited exclamations over clues, or the occasional warm word towards Watson—someone he has known and lived with for many years. Sherlock respects women, though it's through those societal expectations. He'll offer them a seat, an ear, a handkerchief if they need one, and always the promise of help, but he then dismisses them with, "The fairer sex is your department, Watson." Springer successfully wrote Sherlock Holmes with a little sister, a man who will bark out a laugh at her caricature but still leave her to Mycroft's whims because he has his own life to tend to. This is a man who insists that the mind of a woman is inscrutable and thus must grapple with his shock at Enola's ability to cover the "salient points" of the case (58). Cavill's Sherlock is no Sherlock at all and though there's nothing wrong with updating a character for a modern audience (see: Elementary), I do question why Netflix strayed so far from Springer's work. The novel is, after all, their blueprint. She already managed the difficult task of writing an in-character Sherlock Holmes who remains approachable to both a modern audience and Enola herself, yet for some reason Netflix tossed that work aside.

2. Enola is "Special,” Not At All Like Other Girls

Allow me to paint you a picture. Enola Holmes is an empathetic, fourteen-year-old girl who, while bright, does not possess an intelligence worthy of note. No one is gasping as she deduces seemingly impossible things from the age of four, or admiring her knowledge of some obscure, appropriately impressive topic. Rather, Enola is a fairly normal girl with an abnormal upbringing, characterized by her patience and willingness to work. Deciphering the many hiding places where her mother stashed cash takes her weeks, requiring that Enola work through the night in secrecy while maintaining appearances during the day. She manages to hatch a plan of escape that demonstrates the thought she's put into it without testing the reader's suspension of disbelief. More than that, she uses the feminine tools at her disposal to give herself an edge: hiding her face behind a widow's veil and storing luggage in the bustle of her dress. Upon achieving freedom, her understanding of another lonely boy leads her to try and help him, resulting in a dangerous kidnapping wherein Enola acts as most fourteen-year-olds would, scared out of her mind with a few moments of bravery born of pure survival instinct. She and Tewksbury escape together, as friends, before Enola sets out on becoming the first scientific perditorian, a finder of lost people.

Sadly, this new Enola shares little resemblance with her novel counterpart. What Netflix seemingly fails to understand is that giving a character flaws makes them relatable and that someone who looks more like us is someone we can connect with. This Enola, simply put, is extraordinary. She's read all the books in the library, knows science, tennis, painting, archery, and a deadly form of Jujitsu (more on that below). In the novel Enola bemoans that she was never particularly good at cyphers and now must improve if she has any hope of reading what her mother left her. In the film she simply knows the answers, near instantaneously. Enola masters her travels, her disguises, and her deductions, all with barely a hitch. Though Enola doesn't have impressive detective skills yet, her memory is apparently photographic, allowing her to look back on a single glance into a room, years ago, and untangle precisely what her mother was planning. It's a BBC Sherlock-esque form of 'deduction' wherein there's no real thought involved, just an innate ability to recall a newspaper across the room with perfect clarity. The one thing Enola can't do well is ride a bike which, considering that in the novel she quite enjoys the activity, feels like a tacked on "flaw" that the film never has to have her grapple with.

More than simply expanding upon her skillset—because let’s be real, it’s not like Sherlock himself doesn’t have an impressive list of accomplishments. Even if Enola’s feelings of inadequacy are part of the point Springer was working to make—the film changes the core of her personality. I cannot stress enough that Enola is a sheltered fourteen-year-old who is devastated by the disappearance of her mother and terrified by the new world she's entered. That fear, uncertainty, and the numerous mistakes that come out of it is what allowed me to connect with Enola and go, "Yeah. I can see myself in her." Meanwhile, this new Enola is overwhelmingly confident, to the point where I felt like I was watching a child's fantasy of a strong woman rather than one who actually demonstrates strength by overcoming challenges. For example, contrast her meeting with Sherlock and Mycroft on the train platform with what we got in the film:

"And to my annoyance, I found myself trembling as I hopped off my bicycle. A strip of lace from my pantalets, confounded flimsy things, caught on the chain, tore loose, and dangled over my left boot.

Trying to tuck it up, I dropped my shawl.

This would not do. Taking a deep breath, leaving my shawl on my bicycle and my bicycle leaning against the station wall, I straightened and approached the two Londoners, not quite succeeding in holding my head high" (31-32).

***

"Well, if they did not desire the pleasure of my conversation, it was a good thing, as I stood mute and stupid... 'I don't know where she's gone,' I said, and to my own surprise—for I had not wept until that moment—I burst into tears" (34).

I'd ask where this frightened, fumbling Enola has gone, but it's clear that she never existed in the script to begin with. The film is chock-full of her being, to be frank, a badass. She gleefully beats up the bad guys in perfect form, no, "I froze, cowering, like a rabbit in a thicket" (164). This Enola always gets the last word in and never falters in her confident demeanor, no, "I wish I could say I swept with cold dignity out of the room, but the truth is, I tripped over my skirt and stumbled up the stairs" (70). Enola is the one, special girl in an entire school who can see how rigid and horrible these social expectations are, straining against them while all her lesser peers roll their eyes. That's how she's characterized: as "special," right from the get-go, and that eliminates any growth she might have experienced over the course of the film. More than that, it feels like a slap in the face to Springer's otherwise likeable, well-rounded character.

3. A Focus on Hollywood Action and Those Strong Female Characters

It never fails to amaze me how often Sherlock Holmes adaptations fail to remember that he is, at his core, an intellectual. Sure, there's the occasional story where Sherlock puts his boxing or singlestick skills to good use, and he did survive his encounter with Moriarty thanks to his own martial arts, but these moments are rarities across the canon. Pick up any Sherlock Holmes story, open to a random page, and you will find him sitting fireside to mule over a case, donning a disguise to observe the suspects, or combing through his many papers to find that one, necessary scrap of information. Sherlock Holmes is about deduction, a series of observations and conclusions based on logic. He's not an action hero. Nor is Enola, yet Netflix seems to be under the impression that no audience can survive a two hour film without something exploding.

I'd like to present a concise list of things that happened in the film that were, in my opinion, unnecessary:

Enola and Tewksbury throw themselves out of a moving train to miraculously land unharmed on the grass below.

Enola uses the science knowledge her mother gave her to ignite a whole room of gunpowder and explosives, resulting in a spectacle that somehow doesn't kill her pursuer.

Enola engages in a long shootout with her attacker, Tewksbury takes a shot straight to the chest, but survives because of a breastplate he only had a few seconds to put on and hide beneath his shirt. Then Enola succeeds in killing Burn Gorman's slimy character.

Enola beats up her attackers many, many times.

This right here is the worst change to her character. Enola is, plainly put, a "strong woman." Literally. She was trained from a young age to kick ass and now that's precisely what she'll do. Gone is the unprepared but brave girl who heads out onto the dangerous London streets in the hope of helping her mother and a young boy. What does this Enola have to fear? There's only one martial arts move she hasn't mastered yet and, don't worry, she gets it by the end of the film. Enola suffers from the Hollywood belief that strong women are defined solely as physically capable women and though there's nothing wrong with that on the surface, the archetype has become so prevalent that any deviation is seen as too weak—too princess-y—to be considered feminist. If you're not kicking ass and taking names then you can only be passive, right? Stuck in a tower somewhere and awaiting your prince. But what about me? I have no ability to flip someone over my shoulder and throw them into a wall. What about pacifists? What about the disabled? By continually claiming that this is what a "strong" woman looks like you eliminate a huge number of women from this pool. The women we are meant to uphold in this film—Enola, her Mother, and her Mother's friend from the teahouse—are all fighters of the physical variety, whereas the bad women like Mrs. Harris and her pupils are too cultured for self-defense. They're too feminine to be feminist. But feminism isn't about your ability to throw a punch. Enola's success now derives from being the most talented and the most violent in the room, rather than the most determined, smart, and empathetic. She threatens people and lunges at them, reminding others that she's perfectly capable of tying up a guy is she so chooses because "I know Jujitsu." Enola possesses a power that is just as fantastical as kissing a frog into a prince. In sixteen short years she has achieved what no real life woman ever will: the ability to go wherever she pleases and do whatever she wants without the threat of violence. Because Enola is the violence. While her attacker is attempting to drown her with somewhat horrific realism, Enola takes the time to wink at the audience before rearing back and bloodying his nose. After all, why would you think she was in any danger? Masters of Jujitsu with an uncanny ability to dodge bullets don't have anything to fear... unlike every woman watching this film.

It's certainly some kind of wish fulfillment, a fantasy to indulge in, but I personally preferred the original Enola who never had any Hollywood skills at her disposal yet still managed to come out on top. That's a character I can see myself in and want to see myself in given that the concept of non-violent strength is continually pushed to the wayside. Not to mention... that's a Sherlock Holmes story. Coming out on top through intellect and bravery alone is the entire point of the genre, so why Netflix felt the need to turn Enola into an action hero is beyond me.

4. Aging Up the Protagonists (and Giving Them an Eye-Rolling Romance)

The choice to age up our heroes is, arguably, the worst decision here. In the original novel Enola has just turned fourteen and Tewksbury is a child, twelve-years-old, though he looks even younger. It's a story for a younger audience staring appropriately young heroes, with the protagonists' status as children crucial to one of the overarching themes of the story: what does it really mean to strike out on your own and when are you ready for it? Adding two years to Enola's age is something I'm perfectly fine with. After all, the difference between fourteen and sixteen isn't that great and Brown herself is sixteen until February of 2021, so why not aim for realism and make her character the same? That's all reasonable and this is, indeed, an adaptation. No need to adhere to every detail of the text. What puzzles me though is why in the world they would take a terrified, sassy, compassionate twelve-year-old and turn him into a bumbling seventeen-year-old instead?

Ah yes. The romance.

In the same way that I fail to understand the assumption that a film needs over-the-top action to be entertaining, I likewise fail to understand the assumption that it needs a romance—and a heterosexual one to boot. There's something incredibly discomforting in watching a film that so loudly proclaim itself as feminist, yet it takes the strong friendship between two children and turns it into an incredibly awkward, hetero True Love story. Remember when Enola loudly proclaims that she doesn't want a husband? The film didn't, because an hour later she's stroking her hand over Tewksbury's while twirling her hair. Which isn't to say that women can't fall in love, or change their minds, just that it's disheartening to see a supposedly feminist film so completely fall into one of the biggest expectations for women, even today. Forget Enola running up to men and paying them for their clothes as an expression of freedom, is anyone going to acknowledge that narratively she’s still stuck living the life the men around her want? Find yourself a husband, Enola. The heavy implication is she did, just with Jujitsu rather than embroidery. Different method, same message, and that’s incredibly frustrating when this didn’t exist in the original story. “It's about freedom!” the film insists. So why didn't you give Enola the freedom to have a platonic adventure?

It's not even a good romance. Rather painful, really. When Tewksbury, after meeting her just once before, passionately says "I don't want to leave you, Enola" because her company is apparently more important than him staying alive, I literally laughed out loud. It's ridiculous and it's ridiculously precisely because it was shoe-horned into a story that didn't need it. More than simply saddling Enola with a bland love interest though, this leads to a number of unfortunate changes in the story's plot, both unnecessary additions and disappointing exclusions. Enola no longer meets Tewksbury after they've both been kidnapped (him for ransom and her for snooping into his case), but rather watches him cut himself out of a carpetbag on the train. I hope I don't have to explain which of these scenarios is more likely and, thus, more satisfying. Meeting Tewksbury on the train means that Enola gets to have a nighttime chat with him about precisely why he ran away. Thus, when she goes to his estate she no longer needs to deduce his hiding spot based on her own desires to have a place of her own, she just needs to recall that a very big branch nearly fell on him and behold, there that branch is. (The fact that the branch is a would-be murder weapon makes its convenient placement all the more eye-rolling.) Rather than involving herself in the case out of empathy for the family, Enola loudly proclaims that she wants nothing to do with Tewksbury and only reluctantly gets involved when it's clear his life is on the line. And that right there is another issue. In the novel there is no murderous plot in an attempt to keep reform bills from passing. Tewksbury is a child who, like Enola, ran away and quickly discovers that life with an overbearing mother isn't so bad when you've experienced London's dangerous streets. That's the emotional blow: Enola has no mother to go home to anymore and must press out onto those streets whether she's ready for it or not.

Perhaps the only redeeming change is giving Tewksbury an interest in flowers instead of ships. Regardless of how overly simplistic the feminist message is, it is a nice touch to give the guy a traditionally feminine hobby while Enola sharpens her knife. The fact that Enola learned that from her mother and Tewksbury learned botany from his father feels like a nudge at a far better film than Enola Holmes managed to be. For every shining moment of insight—the constraints of gendered hobbies, a black working class woman informing Sherlock that he can never understand what it means to lack power—the film gives us twenty minutes worth of frustrating stupidity. Such as how Enola doesn't seem to conceive of escaping from boarding school until Tewksbury appears to rescue her. She then proceeds to get carried around in a basket for a few minutes before going out the window... which she could have done on her own at any point, locked doors or no. But it seems that narrative consistency isn't worth more than Enola (somehow) leaving a caricature of Mrs. Harris and Mycroft behind. The film is clearly trying to promote a "Rah, rah, go, women, go!" message, but fails to understand that having Enola find a way out of the school herself would be more emotionally fulfilling than having her send a generic 'You're mean' message after the two men in her life—Sherlock and Tewksbury—remind her that she can, in fact, take action.

Which brings me to my biggest criticism and what I would argue is the film's greatest flaw. Reviewers and fans alike are hailing Enola Holmes as a feminist masterpiece and yes, to a certain extent it is. Feminist, that is, not a masterpiece. (5) But it's a hollow feminism. A fantasy feminism. A simple, exaggerated feminism that came out of a Feminism 101 PowerPoint. To quote Sherlock, let's review the salient points:

A woman cannot be the star of her own film without having a male love interest, even if this goes against everything the original novel stood for.

A feminist woman cannot also be selfish. Instead she must have a selfless drive to change the world with bombs.

The best kind of women are those who reject femininity as much as they can. They will wear boy's clothes whenever possible and snub their nose at something as useless as embroidery. Any woman who enjoys such skills or desires to become lady-like just hasn't realized the sort of prison she's in yet.

The best women also embody other masculine traits, like being able to take down men twice their size. Passive women will titter behind their hands. Active women will kick you in the balls. If you really want to be a strong woman, learn how to throw a decent punch.

Women are, above all, superior to men.

Yes, yes, I joke about it just as much as the next woman, but seeing it played fairly straight was a bit of an uncomfortable experience, even more-so during a gender revolution where stories like this leave trans, nonbinary, and genderqueer viewers out of the ideological loop. Enola goes on and on about what a "useless boy" Tewksbury is (though of course she must still be attracted to him) and her mother's teachings are filled with lessons about not listening to men. As established, Mycroft—and Lestrade—are the simplistically evil men Enola must circumvent, whereas Sherlock exists for her to gain victory over: "How did your sister get there first?" Enola supposedly has a strength that Tewksbury lacks— he's just "foolish"—and she shouts out such cringe-worthy lines as, "You're a man when I tell you you're a man!"

I get the message, I really do. As a teenager I probably would have loved it, but now I have to ask: aren't we past the image of men-hating feminists? Granted, the film never goes quite that far, but it gets close. We’ve got one woman who is ready to start blowing things up to achieve equality and another who revels in looking down on the men in her life. That’s been the framing for years, that feminists are cruel, dangerous people and Tewksbury making heart-eyes at Enola doesn’t instantly fix the echoes of that. There's a certain amount of justification for both characterizations—we have reached points in history where peaceful protests are no longer enough and Tewksbury is indeed a fool at times—but that nuance is entirely lost among the film's overall message of "Women rule, men drool." It feels like there’s a smart film hidden somewhere between the grandmother murdering to keep the status quo and Enola’s mother bombing for change, that balance existing in Enola herself who does the most for women by protecting Tewkesbury... but Enola Holmes is too busy juggling all the different films it wants to be to really hit on that message. It certainly doesn’t have time to say anything worthwhile about the fight it’s using as a backdrop. Enola gasps that "Mycroft is right. You are dangerous" when she finds her mother's bombs, but does she ever grapple with whether she supports violence on a large scale in the name of creating a better world? Does she work through this sudden revelation that she agrees with Mycroft about something crucial? Of course not. Enola just hugs her mom, asks Sherlock not to go after her, and the film leaves it at that.

The takeaway is less one of empowerment and more, ironically, of restriction. You can fight, but only via bombs and punches. It's okay to be a woman, provided you don't like too many feminine things. You can save the day, so long as there's a man at your side poised to marry you in the future. I felt like I was watching a pre-2000s script where "equality" means embracing the idea that you're "not like other girls" so that men will finally take you seriously. Because then you don't really feel like a woman to them anymore, do you? You're a martial arts loving, trouser-wearing, loud and brilliant individual who just happens to have long hair. You’re unique and, therefore, worthy of attention, unlike all those other girls.

That's some women's experiences, but far from all, and crucially I don't think this is the woman that Springer wrote in her novel.

The Case of the Missing Marquess is a feminist book. It gives us a flawed, brave, intelligent woman who sets out to help people and achieves just that, mostly through her own strength, but also with some help from the young boy she befriends. Her brothers are privileged, misguided men who she nevertheless cares for deeply and her mother finally puts herself first, leaving Enola to go and live with the Romani people. Everyone in Springer's book feels human, the women especially. Enola gets to tremble her way through scary decisions while still remaining brave. Her mother gets to be selfish while still remaining loving. They're far more than just women blessed with extraordinary talents who will take what they want by force. Springer's women? They don't have that Hollywood glamour. They're pretty ordinary, actually, despite the surface quirks. They’re like us and thus they must make use of what tools they have in order to change their own situations as well as the world. The fact that they still succeed feels very feminist to me, far more-so than granting your character the ability to flip a man into the ground and calling it a day.

Know that I watched Enola Holmes with a friend over Netflix Party and the repeated comment from us both was, "I'd rather be watching The Great Mouse Detective." Enola Holmes is by no means a horrible film. It has beauty, comedy, and a whole lot of heart, but it could have been leagues better given its source material and the talent of its cast. It’s a film that tries to do too much without having a firm grasp of its own message and, as a result, becomes a film mostly about missed potential. Which leads me right back to where I began: The book is better. Go read the book.

Images

Enola Holmes

Mycroft Holmes

Sherlock Holmes

Enola and her Mother Doing Archery

Enola and her Mother Fighting

Tewkesbury and Enola

#Sherlock Holmes #Enola Holmes #mymetas

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indestinatus · 3 years

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Perfect Match

TIVATOBER 2020 // DAY 28

↳ prompt: Halloween Party - rated T (2,170 words)

summary: Ziva steps into the party and isn’t completely surprised by all the eyes that turn to her - but that is far from being the only surprise of the night.

A/N: for my darling @softdeckerstars, who mentioned something on chapter 1 and stayed with me until chapter 28 to see it written. Your love and support is unmatched, dear friend. Love you so.

read it on AO3 🎭

Ziva stepped out of the car, facing the chilly air of the street.

She was nervous. This wasn’t something she usually did, dressing up like that.

She should’ve brought the jacket she left hanging at the back of her door. Her bare shoulders were shivering, but now there was no going back. Maybe if she had calculated how much skin that outfit was going to show, she wouldn’t even have tried it. Even with the metal-like plaques now covering her forearms, there was still a lot to cover—and the tightness of the bodice didn’t really leave things to the imagination.

She wasn’t feeling bad as she had looked in the mirror earlier that night, though.

No, she felt… Different. It wasn’t common for them to have time to dress this fancy, and even more than that, go to a party. It was true it was still in the local bar they used to go to every Friday or so, but… With makeup and styled hair, Ziva hadn’t felt that different in a long time.

Swallowing down her self-consciousness, Ziva took a step towards the bar, opening the rusty door.

A dozen conversations started at the same time, the sound amplified as she stepped inside. Quickly surveying the bar entrance, Ziva realized it had been decorated with Halloween colors - dull orange and light purple lights hanging from the ceiling - as well as a few spiderwebs and scary skulls placed between the drinks and on various tables.

In a second, Ziva also noticed that many eyes had turned to her. Some belonged to people she knew, perhaps ones she could even call friends - after a couple of drinks, it was difficult not to laugh with the regulars - but most were from men seeking something. Company for the night.

Ziva tilted her chin up, challenging them. With a side smirk, she thanked the bartender, Gina, and the young woman gave her an appreciative nod. It didn’t take long for Ziva to spot her friends, though, and a relieved smile cracked on her lips as soon as she saw Abby across the room, also smiling broadly at her.

“Wow, Ziva, you look great!” Abby took both her hands inside hers, a face so excited Ziva wondered if she had had any drinks already or if this was her natural state. She decided on the latter.

“Thank you, Abby. And you look… Dark.” Ziva eyed her costume and quickly added, “In a good way.”

With dark eyeshadow and sporting a long red velvet cape over a black dress, Abby looked like her normal self—except for the little fangs that now protruded from inside her mouth.

“Thank you,” she replied, grinning. “It’s my version of Dracula. Last year, I didn’t win because no one knew who was Mina Harker, so I decided on something simpler this time. Well, simpler in my eyes. It’s just absurd no one knows her. But knows him! She’s part of the story too and—”

“Wonder Woman.”

Tony’s voice made Ziva’s heart do that little flip she was familiar with, and as their gazes met, his was so intense she felt unable to breathe properly.

It was as if the whole world was reduced to that moment, with Tony’s eyes doing an elevator motion and then back up to her face after a slow blink. Ziva looked down to her own outfit, taking in the knee-high boots and metallic dress. Meeting his gaze again, she felt that even the cold plaque circling her forehead had turned warmer somehow—when Tony parted his mouth to lick the curve of his bottom lip.

“Yes,” Ziva replied, feeling better than she did the whole evening.

Tony’s brow shot up, appearing above the glasses he was wearing. Ziva bit the inside of her cheek to keep from making any comment about it (or inflating his ego)—but good heavens, did he look good sporting that. Wondering if Tony would ever wear glasses in real life - and not just a part of a costume - Ziva let her gaze wander down his outfit as well, taking in his combed hair to the side and open shirt.

“You weren’t lying,” he said, breaking eye contact for a second with a sheepish smile.

“Why would I do that?”

Ziva tilted her head and visibly saw Tony inhaling. She knew what that gesture did to him, and offered him a secretive smile she knew he would understand. There was something so compelling in making him lose control like that, and how easy it was. All she needed to do was to linger her gaze for some seconds and he would start fidgeting, pressing his lips together or talking without any filter at all.

But there was something different about tonight. She noticed he couldn’t stop staring. Not even when McGee arrived with the first round of drinks - dressed in some sort of character Ziva didn’t recognize, with elf ears and a strange-looking vest - and not even when a couple of his local friends approached him.

Tony continued to look at her over the bottle brim and stealing glances when neither of them was talking. The night stretched into a few rounds of drinks, and Ziva soon started to feel the happy dose of alcohol inside her system. Smiling more than usual, she realized they had drifted closer to one another, and Tony’s shoulder was now pressed against hers.

“You do know this is just a party, right?” Tony looked at her from the corner of his vision. “Not a job interview for modelling or…” he trailed off, and for what felt like the tenth time that night, let his eyes trail to where the bodice hugged her waist, tight and fitting.

“I heard there is a competition, yes?” Ziva lifted one of her eyebrows.

“Right,” Tony chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. “Ziva David, parading in front of everyone, dressed as a sexy Amazon Warrior.”

“Isn’t that one of your fantasies, Tony?”

His eyes sparkled and Ziva couldn’t help but cast a confident smile when the beer he was drinking stopped midair, a half-hearted huff sent in her direction.

“Funny,” Tony said, pointing her a finger. ”You… You can’t say that. You have no right to—”

“You guys are matching!”

Abby gestured at them with a wide smile, clasping her hands together. Her excitement caught the attention of nearby tables, and now a few curious customers stretched their necks to see what she meant.

Abby was right. Tony had the decency to look down his own torso, where a half-open white shirt displayed the Superman logo which suited him well. A loose tie was draped around his neck, and with his hair combed to the side, Tony did look straight out from a comic book.

From the way he still stared at her, Ziva guessed she did too, his attraction now way less disguised from the effects of the alcohol. She met Tony’s gaze to find it curious rather than with the playfulness she expected, and Ziva was caught off guard for a moment before she could slip back into her façade.

“Really?” Ziva cast Abby a smirk. “I did not notice it.”

A click sounded a second later, and Ziva flashed a smile at how excited Abby looked when she pulled McGee to see it too. Halting for a second and furrowing his brows, McGee’s gaze darted between the two of them but finally decided not to comment on the matter. After some loud, excited babbling coming from an already tipsy Abby, she left them alone as well, but not before sending a not-so-discreet wink Ziva’s way.

“Hm.” Tony turned to her, putting his hands inside his trouser pockets. “Do you think they know?”

Ziva glanced to where Abby and McGee now stood, not looking at them but still close. They appeared to have started some sort of debate on another table about someone’s costume, but Ziva couldn’t catch much more than that.

“No,” she replied. “They do not.”

“I thought that was the plan.”

“Hm.” Ziva turned to Tony, smirking up at him. “Seeing you squirm is way better.”

Tony’s tongue pushed the inside of his cheek, as he tried to suppress a smile but failed.

“And you couldn’t settle on something looking less…” he trailed off, tipping his chin to her costume.

Ziva chuckled. “Powerful?”

His eyes were pure hunger when they returned back to her face. Ziva’s heart started beating faster.

“I was going to say ‘less Ziva’.”

Tony’s eyes sparkled and Ziva smiled, appreciating how good he was at flirting.

“Hm.” Ziva pursed her lips, leaning forward on the table. “I like it. I can even conceal my weapons.”

Tony’s eyes instantly flickered to her chest, the low cut of her dress drawing the desired effect. When his gaze met hers again, Ziva parted her lips. Everything was just too intense. And he looked way too handsome with his hair and glasses like that.

“How many are there with you?” Tony stepped into her space.

Ziva tilted her chin up towards him. “Do you really want to know?”

“A man needs to be prepared,” Tony chuckled. “But you do look... amazing.”

“Thank you,” Ziva opened an honest smile, then skimmed his face as she said, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Tony lifted a hand to brush a curl off her shoulder, and the light touch of his fingers left a burning trace on her skin.

“We clean up nice, don’t we?”

He skimmed her face in wonder and Ziva smiled, looking at him from under her eyelashes. Not even a moment after, Tony chuckled, shaking his head as she trailed his gaze with her own.

“You know what?” He chuckled weakly, then hummed with the back of his throat before meeting her eyes again.

“Screw you,” Tony said, though his eyes were visibly sparkling.

Ziva huffed out a laugh, taken aback. “Why?”

“For making me want to tear it off.”

Tony’s lips pressed together as he nodded towards her metal dress and his hand hit the table a couple of times in a fist, then opened with the palm facing down. Licking his lips, he closed his eyes and glanced the other way, and Ziva couldn’t help but laugh at how helpless he looked.

“Hm.” She clicked her tongue and cracked a smile. “And I have not even ‘paraded’ yet.”

Tony continued to shake his head, the look he cast a clear mix of helplessness and pure lust.

“Dangerous woman.”

“Wasn’t it Wonder?”

A smile cracked on his lips, and Ziva followed it as Tony turned to face McGee and Abby still in a heated conversation at the table across the room.

“They’ll know,” he said after a moment, with a duck of his chin.

Ziva chuckled amused, then lifted an eyebrow.

“How?” she asked, then motioned to their costumes, adding, “I do not think we can be more obvious than this.”

Going with matching costumes had originally been Ziva’s idea, but Tony had also helped pick the ones that felt appropriate. They had previously discussed how to break the news to the team, but it wasn’t something that easy to tell everyone that they were actually together now, however natural it may seem. With a Halloween party approaching, Ziva had joked they should leave them a clue, even if as minimal as matching costumes.

“When I kiss you,” Tony replied, then chuckled as Ziva sent him a questioning look. “Just saying. They’ll know.”

“I thought we had agreed—”

Tony’s hands cupped her face and pulled Ziva close in an instant, words cutting short. As soon as his lips met hers, his tongue demanded access into her mouth, and Ziva let him with little to no restraint.

Tony’s mouth was almost aggressive, the kiss an explosion of all that had been building up all night. Ziva tuned her senses to return its energy, and as she let her fingers trail to the back of his head, Tony let out an appreciative groan from low on his throat.

She felt his hands fisting her hair, and Ziva circled his neck to pull him closer. With all the weight of Tony’s body now flushed against hers, she suddenly felt lightheaded, and as his hands left her hair to trail the sides of her hips, Ziva did feel like she was getting out of breath.

Breaking the kiss, she heard him whine before sharing her breath—as if he was also in need of some oxygen. Tony let his forehead pressed to hers, and squeezed Ziva’s waist to make a point.

“Know that this is your fault,” he said, sounding indeed a bit breathless.

She tightened her grip around his neck, chuckling against his lips.

“We both know it is not,” Ziva replied.

“It is, though.”

And if he heard another click coming from Abby’s camera, Tony made no comment on it before claiming Ziva’s lips again with his own.

As he smiled through the kiss, though, she had a feeling he was alright with them figuring it all out just like that.

#tiva #tiva fanfiction #tivatober2020 #once upon a halloween #my fics #this is so silly!!!#I do love their costumes though <33 I think they match

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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From Battle Beast to Titan, The Invincible Rogues’ Gallery is Taking Shape

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As its blood-splattered title card makes clear, Amazon Prime’s Invincible is quite a bit more intense than other animated superhero shows.

Adapted from Robert Kirkman and Cory Walker’s comic series of the same name, Invincible takes place in a stylized, yet realistic world where superpowered punches have real consequences. It’s rare that an episode goes by without our titular young hero getting drenched in blood, whether it be his own or some poor villain’s.

Despite Invincible’s commitment to the violent bit, however, the show still does have quite a bit in common with its more all-ages animated peers. The series animation from Wind Sun Sky Animation studio is based off of comic illustrator Ryan Ottley’s art but it also harkens back to a golden era of superhero animation.

The character designs, with chiseled jaws, chunky limbs, and very deliberate movements is highly reminiscent of ‘90s Warner Bros. Animation classics like Batman: The Animated Series, Superman: The Animated Series, and Justice League. And just like those earlier series, each episode of Invincible thus far has proven dedicated to introducing interesting and novel villains for its hero to confront.

There’s an old adage about superhero stories that a hero is only as good as its villain. That might be oversimplifying things a bit as Batman, Superman, Invincible, and the like are all pretty interesting figures on their own. Still, the animated series surrounding these heroes always know how to put a compelling villain to good use. Batman: The Animated Series in particular built up the Caped Crusader’s impressive rogue’s gallery and each new episode was a treat for viewers in guessing which villain would take center stage. In fact, the all-time best episodes of that series were often great due to the deployment of its villains, like in the beloved Mr. Freeze installment “Hear to Ice.”

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While Invincible is only five episodes into what will hopefully be a long run, the series has already proven to be particularly adept at introducing colorful villains to challenge Mark Grayson as he trains to be a superhero. Now that we’ve crossed the halfway point of Invincible’s eight-episode first season, let’s take some time to examine the young hero’s rogues’ gallery.

The Mauler Twins

The Mauler Twins, voiced by Kevin Michael Richardson, are the very first villains introduced in Invincible. The Guardians of the Globe (R.I.P.) are able to put a halt to their assault on the White House, but not before the twins reveal their awesome strength. The Mauler Twins are an unusual combination of brains and brawn. First we see heavy machine gun fire bounce off of them like pebbles and then they embark on a very brainy mission for none other than Robot (Zachary Quinto).

The Mauler Twins are a consistent presence in the comic and their dynamic only works because neither of them knows who is the original and who is the clone. Their inclusion on the list is cheating a bit because Mark hasn’t crossed paths with them yet but he is sure to soon.

Titan

Titan, voiced by Academy Award winning actor Mahershala Ali, is the first great example of how Invincible will allow its villains to recur and evolve like Batman: The Animated Series’ baddies. Titan first pops up in episode 1, then he is essentially the main character of episode 5. There is quite a lot of depth to this rock-man as he tricks Mark into helping his criminal underworld coup, but he also seems to really believe he can make his city a safer, more equitable place.

Kill Cannon

Kill Cannon (Fred Tatasciore) is an extremely minor villain in the Invincible comic. He first appeared as Atom Eve’s nemesis in her standalone comic before making his proper series debut in Issue #58. Kill Cannon arrives in the Amazon series much earlier and has already popped up again as a recurring villain. He seems to fulfill the role of a particularly easy training dummy for Mark to take care of. Unfortunately, all the other villains won’t be as simple.

The Flaxans

The Flaxans, an aliens species from another dimension, are the first baddies to really test Mark. Their lifespans are short in Earth’s timeline, but they are also tremendously capable of learning from their mistakes. Led by the hateful “Slash” (voiced by Richardson), the Flaxans embark on three increasingly successful invasions. Omni-Man appears to have wiped out their society for now but all it will take to rebuild is a handful of dedicated Flaxans.

Doc Seismic

Every superhero story needs a good old-fashioned mustache-twirler and Doc Seismic (voiced by Chris Diamantopoulos) fits the bill here…despite having no mustache or even hair to speak of. Through his advanced weaponry and seismological knowledge, Doc Seismic is able to manipulate the earth around him. In our first introduction to him, he puts these powers to a surprisingly progressive use by attempting to blow up Mt. Rushmore and its depiction of “oppressors.”

The Doc did his undergraduate in sociology and women’s studies, with a minor in African dance as it turns out. Invincible and Atom Eve are able to dispatch him ease and he appears to fall to his fiery death. Of course, these kinds of villains normally don’t go down that easy, so it’s safe to expect seeing him again.

Roarface

Roarface is an entirely new creation for the Invincible TV series and she gets only a very brief bit of screentime in episode 5. According to Amazon’s helpful episode trivia feature, Roarface was developed by comic illustrator Cory Walker and the collar she wears prevents her entire body from becoming a werewolf. Only her head succumbs to lycanthropy.

Machine Head

Every superhero story needs a Wilson Fisk-style underworld crime boss figure. Invincible has one, it just so happens that his head is a machine, leading to the brilliant nickname Machine Head (voiced by Jeffrey Donovan). This villain loves Italian maple and is eventually usurped by Titan then arrested by Cecil Stedman. Machine Heads teleporting partner is named Isotope.

Battle Beast

Oh yeah, now we’re talking. Battle Beast is a fan favorite of Invincible comic readers and TV viewers may now have a better sense of why. Battle Beast (voiced by Michael Dorn) isn’t so much an enemy to Mark Grayson as he is an enemy to everyone who crosses his path.

As his name suggests, this beast is really about battling. His real name is Thokk and he travels the universe looking for worthy foes to fight. Machine Head was able to lure him to Earth with the promise of a real competition. Unfortunately, he found Mark Grayson and the new Guardians of the Globe extremely wanting in this regard.

“This battle is beneath me. There is no honor in killing insects,” Thokk mutters before peacing out. Rest assured that Battle Beast will be returning to this series at some point…preferably once Mark has leveled up quite a bit.

The other villains who battle alongside Battle Beast in episode 5 are unrelated mercenaries who all fight on Machine Head’s time. They are: Furnace, Kursk, Magmaniac, and Tether Tyrant. The comics has a sixth villain involved in this battle named Magnattack, but Amazon’s episode notes indicate that production couldn’t fit him in.

Invincible streams every Friday on Amazon Prime.

The post From Battle Beast to Titan, The Invincible Rogues’ Gallery is Taking Shape appeared first on Den of Geek.

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#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

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the-odinson · 3 years

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Thor 🗲 Intro

“Fortunately, I am mighty...”

OOC PORTION —

NAME: Danny

PRONOUNS: he/him

AGE: 23

TIMEZONE: GMT +1

TRIGGERS: None

IC PORTION; BASICS —

CHARACTER NAME: Thor Odinson

FACECLAIM: Chris Hemsworth

AFFILIATIONS: The Avengers

AGE: 1500s/appears mid 30s

SPECIES: Alien (Asgardian)

IDENTITY: Public

DOES YOUR CHARACTER LIVE IN THE MOUSEHOLE? IF SO, WHAT ARE THEIR DUTIES? Yes, but he doesn’t particularly like it there. He doesn’t feel the effects of the cold, but Thor has never liked being confined so prefers to get outside as much as possible. Thor has decided to take on the role of a hunter/gatherer. The vast forests of Europe aren’t too dissimilar to the Asgardian wilderness and, while the beasts aren’t as ferocious as back home, what’s a king to do if not revel in the hunt? When needed he will also help with aid work: he can cover great distances with ease and carrying heavy loads is hardly a problem for him.

DESCRIBE SIX TRAITS (3 positive, 3 negative) YOUR CHARACTER HAS AND HOW THESE AFFECT THEM:

Dependable: A man of his word, Thor is trustworthy and reliable; an asset in any team and to anyone who has a favour to ask. Endearing: Those who truly get to know Thor speak of him with admiration; his warm smile and welcoming personality don’t come to all, but if he lets his guard down you’re guaranteed a friend with whom you feel truly comfortable. Benevolent: Thor (usually) means well and (usually) tries to be kind to anyone he encounters. His exterior may come across as brash but there’s no malice involved, often just a difference in culture and upbringing. Obstinate: While being headstrong may not always be a negative thing, Thor hates to admit he’s wrong and has a tendency to steamroll down a chosen path rarely reassessing whether the choices he made were the right ones or simply the first ones. Distrusting: Thor enjoys being social but mainly around those he’s close to. He can appear a little hostile to strangers: while he wants to believe in the good in people, he’s been around long enough and seen a lot of the universe to know of the potential darkness inside them too. Reckless: Thor often acts on impulse and charges into situations unprepared. This can lead to serious damage caused to both himself and those around him.

POWERS AND/OR ABILITIES: Super strength: Son of Odin and King of Asgard, Thor is physically the strongest of all Asgardians, with feats including being able to go one-on-one with the Hulk and other powerful entities. Flight: Thor’s magical axe Stormbreaker grants him the ability to fly. Electricity Manipulation: Thor is capable of generating electrical energy within his body and can expel it in the form of lightning bolts. Using Stormbreaker makes the energy generation and expulsion much more powerful and efficient. Weather Control: Similarly, either with or without Stormbreaker (although with Stormbreaker is easier), Thor can control the sky and create storms. Durability: His Asgardian physiology grants much more durability than a human one, able to shrug off energy blasts and recover from injury much quicker. Thor can also survive in space and alien atmospheres. Allspeak: Also called the All-Tongue, Asgardians speak a magic-based language, granting the ability to understand and be understood in all the languages of the Nine Realms. Bifrost: Stormbreaker also gifts Thor the power to summon the Bifrost, the Rainbow Bridge connecting all realms, allowing intergalactic travel between worlds in a matter of moments.

WEAKNESSES: There aren’t many things on Earth that could pose a threat to Thor, so it’s hard to pinpoint any specific weaknesses. Perhaps for someone like Thor, the word god comes up so often that he sometimes forgets it’s not true: he is mortal and, while far more durable than a human, he can get injured and he can get killed, a fact that he often brushes to the side when charging into battle. However he has become far more self-aware after losing an eye (and almost his life) to Hela.

IC PORTION; DETAILS —

WHAT BROUGHT YOUR CHARACTER TO SOKOVIA?

Sokovia is where the majority of Thor’s allies are, and he needs their help. His world gone, his people stranded on the nearest hospitable realm in need of a home; Thor knew of a place where the Asgardians could blend in and live peaceful lives. The problem is, however, it seems Earth is not quite at peace right now. When he couldn’t track down the Avengers in New York, he followed the trail to Novi Grad. His priorities are conflicting: while he came back to Earth to ask the Avengers’ help in establishing a new Asgard on this planet, he feels he should stay to try and help his friends however he can in aiding the Nomad’s cause.

DID THEY SIGN THE ACCORDS? WHY OR WHY NOT?

No - the whole Accords situation is mostly unbeknownst to Thor due to being offworld at the time of signing. From what he can gather, it isn’t something that would appeal to him. He feels the affairs of humans are mostly petty ones and, despite his growing acclimatisation to Earth and its customs, he doesn’t understand why humans have to be so divided about, well, pretty much everything.

PROVIDE 3-5 HEADCANONS RELATED TO YOUR CHARACTER: 1. Although Thor is an alien, he has spent enough time on this planet (in both modern and ancient times) for the culture shock to lessen so that now Earth to Thor is more comparable to a human travelling to a different country - he acknowledges that the differences are neither better nor worse and he chooses to respect them. He knows he will make mistakes and appear strange, but sees that now as an opportunity for personal growth. 2. One thing he doubts he will ever understand however, is the human version of ‘entertainment’. Thor cannot stand movies. On Asgard, they would entertain themselves by slaying fearsome monsters or engaging in a friendly drunken brawl, the more broken furniture the better! But on Earth they amuse themselves by… sitting down and staring at a screen for hours on end. While both Asgard and Earth had/have magnificent technology, it’s clear they used it very differently.

3. Since returning to Earth, Thor has become intrigued in the Norse tales of himself and his people from over a thousand years ago and their alleged feats. He finds it highly amusing how inaccurate the stories are, but it has led to a fascination of human mythology and the various pantheons across history and the world. He wonders if he will ever meet any other of these so-called gods.

4. While a human brain only has capacity for almost a century’s worth of memories, an Asgardian brain is built for a few millennia’s worth. Therefore Thor has a much more acute long-term memory than his human companions, although occasionally his short-term memory leaves something to be desired, especially after several pints of mead.

WANTED CHARACTER CONNECTIONS:

Loki: His brother and the person he loves (and hates) most in the cosmos. I know a thing or two about brotherly love (I’ve been experiencing it for 23 years) so would love to write for Thor with his undeniably most personal connection. Wonder Woman: Both ancient, both ‘gods’ and both so very far from home. Despite their different allegiances I think it would be great to have Thor bond with perhaps the one person around here who may truly understand him. Superman: If anything they both have fabulous red capes. They are quite similar power-wise, although I know Superman is stronger but Thor definitely wouldn’t want to admit that. It could lead to some healthy (or unhealthy?) competition between the two, especially seeing as Thor isn’t too fond of the Justice League. Captain America & Iron Man: The two splintered team leaders. Thor respects them both (Tony a little less, perhaps…) and, since he doesn’t really understand the extent of the accords, would like to hear their sides of the story and what has happened since the Ultron incident. Bruce Banner: Thor has fought with the Hulk a couple of times but feels this has brought the two closer, learning more about how Bruce ticks and now he feels there’s a protective bond between the pair. I think the interactions they have could bring out the comedic style of writing which I love!

POTENTIAL CHARACTER ARCS: In the previous paragraph I said I like writing comedic characters (of which Thor fits the bill) but I also want to explore the deeper aspects of his personality such as the emotional pain of losing his parents, his childhood friends and his home. This could manifest in him not wanting to form bonds with others in the Mousehole at first because he’s lost so many people: why would he want to get close with anyone else only to lose them again? Perhaps a dramatic fallout with someone from a different team could lead to serious consequences for him or the team as a whole.

The reason I chose for placing Thor in Sokovia is that he’s seeking a location for New Asgard: maybe with all its emigrating population and empty buildings Sokovia could be the perfect location… I’m not sure how it would work in the group, but maybe Thor could eventually bring the Asgardians here, both to settle and to help with the restoration of the country.

CHARACTER BIO —

You know the story. An Asgardian prince, lacking in humility and exiled to Earth in order to learn what it means to be worthy. A classic tale, but at its heart, a tale of loss, and a tale of what it means to truly be human: even if you’re not. Thor has lived for well over a millenia, but only in the last decade has his life really begun. From landing on Earth a long time after people stopped worshipping him, he slowly began to understand the importance of relationships; from forming close bonds with the Avengers (and wary acquaintances with the Justice League and X-Men), to experiencing true love for the very first time. All his life Thor had assumed that humans were lesser beings, so why then did he feel he was learning so much more from them than he had ever learned from his own kind?

After experiencing the death of his mother, then later on his father and three close childhood friends, Thor was at breaking point when his home realm of Asgard was obliterated during Ragnarök by the fire demon Surtur. With the title of King thrust upon him, Thor decided his duty to his people had to consume him before his emotions did. Pursuing the quest of a new home, he led them to Nidavellir, the homeworld of the dwarfs; unsurpassable smiths and mechanics with the power to forge almost anything the mind can dream of, ruled over by their King, Eitri. Eons ago, Eitri had forged the legendary hammer Mjölnir (destroyed by Hela) at Odin’s request, now he oversaw the creation of the glorious axe Stormbreaker when asked by Thor, capable of summoning the rainbow bridge despite its apparent destruction on Asgard. Armed with his new tool and a promise to the Asgardians of a brighter future, Thor set out alone across the stars, heading to Midgard to find his old allies the Avengers. He’d helped the humans many times before, hopefully they’ll be able to help him and his race this time.

It took Thor losing everything to appreciate what he has. As he enters the next phase of his life in Sokovia, without family or a home, he is truly the definition of a nomad.

#srisingintro #biography

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ffwriteradvisor · 4 years

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Character skill sets

Obviously, you don’t really want a character that brings nothing to the table. On the other hand, a character who can do anything and everything so good that they can compete with deities dedicated to the subject of the day is often too much for the average reader to believe. There’s also a matter of how well the skills mesh together in practice, the amount of variety brought to the table, the difference between a developed skill and a mere talent, the nature of the skills - are they the sort of thing that anyone can develop or are they based on some inherent trait? - and how age and life experience plays into building a character’s ‘resume’.

It’s, as you can tell by the small laundry list I just rattled off, a tricky business.

Good news - there aren’t any hard and fast rules to giving characters skills. There are some guidelines and you’ll often find yourself playing by ear to see if your latest take strikes a sour note or not, but there are only a few ways to really do it wrong and, even then, there’s ways to salvage it.

But let’s focus on the points I listed already.

Let’s Play ‘Pick The Protagonist’ - (The Problem Of The Unique Protagonist Asset)

How many stories have you watched or read where the main character has a special, one-of-a-kind ability that makes them stand out above all the other characters in the story?

The answer is probably ‘a lot’. It can take the form of a one-in-a-million power, a sacred sword that only allows one hand to wield it, a legacy passed down over the ages... there’s a lot to work with here.

There’s nothing wrong with doing that with your protagonist. It’s probably one of the better reasons for dragging a random person into the plot - if you’re the only person who can stop the end of the world because the anti-Doomsday weapon decided that it lives in your hand now, there’s not a lot you can do about it. But there’s also something to be said for a protagonist that doesn’t have a grand destiny giving him a fair shot at victory just by merit of existing.

Plus, like. There’s also logistical issues to deal with. So let’s address those.

Depending on the story or fandom that you’re working on, a unique protagonist asset isn’t feasible. Sometimes because such things don’t exist in-universe (One Piece would be a good example of a series where literally the only thing you need to be a contender is a will to succeed and a boat, though I guess you could consider Conqueror’s Haki or a Devil Fruit ability ‘unique assets’...), but sometimes it’s just because the canon main character of the story you’re writing for already has that asset on lock.

There are ways around the second - you can kill off the original guy and take their place through reincarnation as said-guy, plot erasure of the guy (just flat-out make it so he doesn’t exist, it’ll be fine), or just being a convenient runner-up who happens to meet the bare minimum requirements to be the guy.

You can also shoehorn your OC into position to turn the Chosen Uno into the Chosen Duo, though this path of action doesn’t have the best reputation historically thanks to the influence of the Dread Mary-Sue on fandom culture (I’ll be posting an article about that eventually), or change the story to make room for a large range of potential Chosen - this one specifically can allow for an added plot aspect, because suddenly there’s competition to achieve the final goal and complete the quest for whatever.

And on that subject, let’s jump to our next point!

The Problem With Superman (and how to challenge the man who has everything)

Now, there’s no shortage of characters who, quite simply, are written to be good at everything - sometimes not even just good, but the very best ever. No, I’m not talking specifically about the Dread Mary-Sue, though the archetype associated with that term does often come with such a description. This is a pitfall just about anyone can fall into, irrespective of age, gender, background, or the originality of the work in question, even if the most blatant forms of it seem pretty easy to avoid.

Most writers know better than to make one character good at everything, but you get exceptions fairly regularly. Batman writers, for one, have a tendency to assume that Batman knows everything there is to know and can defeat anyone on his own ‘given enough prep-time’. There’s also the fact that a fair few Superman stories often have to call on Kryptonians or Kryptonite to make the plot complicated enough that the solution of ‘just move really fast and take advantage of invulnerability to punch/move/freeze/melt the problem before bad thing happen’ doesn’t work.

Then you have the more subtle examples. Where a character isn’t good at ‘everything’... just everything relevant to the plot and what we see of the setting. A good way to pick out this is to look at a story and start removing characters. Remove the science guy, the spy, the sidekick... If you can shave the cast down to your Super-suspect without having to change any major or middling-size plot points, twists, and story beats or having to shift the difficulty level of the setting, you probably have a problem.

Obviously, this doesn’t work for every story, especially if they have a very small cast to begin with. There’s also the fact that most stories are built around emotional journey’s instead of ‘use x skill to get to y place at z time’. But a lack of difficulty or danger played completely straight is something of a warning sign if you’re working with a genre that requires that there be some manner of challenge in the story.

So, let’s take a look at some of the more specific issues with power distribution.

Equal Opportunity Asskicking vs. There Can Only One Chosen One In This Town (how common is power in the setting and how does that affect the plot)

Have you ever thought about how many series - video games in particular - have the protagonist solve all the problems they come across, even the ones that seem like the sort of thing any rando could handle? Especially when you have a big organization that could theoretically handle a few of these things without the protagonist being present for everything?

It’s often hand-waved as ‘they’re not strong enough to deal with it’, but why would that make sense? If the setting is so dangerous, why isn’t there more people operating at or above the protagonist’s power level without being a member of the primary cast herd? If there’s such a dangerous colony of animals on this island, why are these fragile citizens still living there? Why is this martial art that’s so powerful and useful so goddamn rare and special despite its utility? How did such a weak person climb so far up in an organization that seems to value the punchinating power of its employees above all else?

It doesn’t make sense.

This is a problem that plagues a lot of series with an emphasis on fighting. The average person becomes an alien creature as the protagonists and antagonists gain more and more power and take down bigger and bigger opponents. The ante keeps going up and the rest of the world stays down where it started, which... well. Doesn’t make sense.

Think about Dragon Ball for a moment. On the Earth of that series, how many people would you say represent any kind of physical threat to the protagonists or the antagonists at any point in the story? I’m not asking over the course of the story if Dragon Ball-era Goku could stand even half a chance against Cooler, but if you took a specific episode from like... oh, I don’t know, the Cell Saga, how many people on the planet at that time would stand a chance of surviving the events of said-episode if they were brought into the blast radius of the plot?

The number is probably in the low tens. And the fact that, even with a lifetime of training in setting, the best chance for a person in that setting to survive that specific scenario would be coming from ‘superior’ alien stock such as the Saiyans.

And Cell isn’t even the top of the danger totem pole in setting.

Going back to our previous example, One Piece is a fairly good example of how to handle this. There are many routes of power in the series - Devil Fruits, Haki, training, inherent species traits, and more are possible in terms of physical strength, but there is also value given to intelligence and the ability to strategize and create unconventional solutions. Even the ‘weakest’ member of the Straw Hat Pirates, Usopp, who has no Devil Fruit, species ability, mutations, or, alterations, and only one form of Haki (fairly recently awakened and not even one of the offensive utility variants), is able to keep up with the rest of the crew by having a variety of weapons and skills he has developed himself. There’s also the fact that people in the setting tend to be fairly well developed to the danger levels of their relative environments, either in terms of physical strength or having strategies to deal with the dangers around them.

It still suffers from the emphasis on combat before most else, which is common in Shonen, but it at least feels fairly balanced compared to some other series that have a similar approach to strength in setting.

Besides power distribution in a setting, there are other things to consider beyond combat applicable skills.

Combo Platters/The Five Basic Food Groups (the importance of variety and moderation)

There are different types of skills that you need to balance when making a character, both in terms of variety and rationing them out in a reasonable manner.

There are career skills (good for making money, but not overly relevant to day-to-day life), utility skills (cooking, cleaning, basic home repair, etc.), recreational skills (art, music, other specific skills that aren’t necessary for day-to-day activities but lack the immediate financial reliability of career skills), interpersonal skills, and combat skills (self-explanatory).

Obviously, different skills have different ‘weights’ in terms of plot impact. A fighting series probably won’t make much of a character’s house painting skills unless it has an impact on their combat skills (which is entirely possible depending on how the writer goes about it), but someone knowing how to use a sword at a high level means that they’ve got a lot of physical capability to quite literally cut through the competition.

If you need a combat skill for a character... well, I already dedicated a post to talking about that specific range of skills. You can also apply their non-combat related skills to their fights in a tertiary sense - a lack of primary offense can lead to unorthodox tactics to bridge the gap.

But other skills have their uses too. It can allow you to make use of your characters outside of a combat context, reveal things about their character that might not be immediately obvious from their appearance - not just their interests, but background as well, though I’ll cover that a little later in more detail -, and bring them into the orbit of other characters naturalistically. You can only have so many Crash Into Hellos before the charm wears off for the audience.

In giving your character skills, you need to balance those skills. Making a character a ‘master of combat’ who can use any weapon under the sun like a master doesn’t work without some kind of supernatural explanation - martial artists tend to specialize. I’m not saying that you can’t have a character with multiple weapons skills - there’s a lot of historical real-world precedence for that, actually, usually in the combination of ‘ranged/close range/mid-range’. But a lot of those multiple weapon sets tend to be in sets that cover the weaknesses of the other weapons - sword, bow, and spear cover different combat ranges and needs, and there are various martial arts that teach their students weapons handling in conjunction with unarmed skills.

A generic ‘swords skill’ is non-functional - there are many types of sword in the world, varied by their size, weight, shape, and intended use in combat. Some swords are intended more for stabbing, others for slashing, and while you have more than a few that can do both, there are some are simple not built to stand up to the stresses of the other style.

They Didn’t Cover This In Kindergarten! (why you need to tailor skill-sets to your character’s life experience and background)

Another thing that can affect the size, nature, and diversity of a character’s skill set is their age, life experience, and background.

You wouldn’t expect a character that comes from nobility to have any concept of how to street fight without some kind of explanation attached. The same rule applies in reverse - you wouldn’t expect a character living in the gutter to know the nuances of fine manners and etiquette of nobility without a good reason. Depending on the period, a person from the second background couldn’t even be expected to know how to read.

That’s not to say you can’t use those things, but you have to have some kind of structure to support those additions. Maybe your noble doesn’t have the spotless background most would expect from one of their station or, in another scenario, someone pulled a Prince and Pauper switch back in the day and then neglected to switch them back. Same with your gutter rat - maybe they’re a fallen noble, maybe someone made a go at pulling a Pygmalion with them before losing interest, or maybe they’re an autodidact (that is to say, self-taught).

The age of a character can also affect the width and breadth of their skill set pool. People don’t expect five year olds to know much about anything - their reading skills are just getting started, their language skills a bit rough around the edges, and their ability to prepare food is generally limited to toast and toast-adjacent goods like sandwiches.

On the other hand, an elderly character, while having plenty of time to collect lots of skills, may not be able to utilize all of them anymore or might have even forgotten enough of them to be counter productive.

My grandmother, over the course of her life, has worked at several jobs that had fuck all to do with each other. She was a carhop at a drive-in, worked at a grocery store, worked at a local medical factory, worked at a guitar factory assembling instruments long enough to have a hand in every part of the process along with possessing the know-how to design a thing to make winding strings (I might be miss-remembering her exact description of the thing) faster and safer (and then not getting paid or credited for it after the company started using it), and drove bus for several years. She also had all the skills of an at-home housewife, a professional upholsterer, unprofessional seamstress, knows how to treat and care for wood furniture, knows how to work with and maintain leather (not how to make it though), was a very good cook until her physical condition no longer allowed her to handle such tasks, was physically capable enough at one point in her life to help with construction on her own home, and was a good enough artist that she was given two separate opportunities to go to college for the subject back in the 50′s.

That’s a lot of stuff. Each career - including housewife, as there’s a lot of work involved in homemaking - might provide for three to five distinct skills, a few of which would be extremely specific to that particular career path.

On the other hand, a lot of these skills haven’t been used for decades, meaning that not only would she be extremely out of practice, her understanding in a certain field might be anywhere from thirty to sixty years out of date. There’s also the fact that her physical condition is very different from what it was back then, meaning that even the skills she remembers how to preform correctly might not be feasible thanks to her own body failing to cooperate.

The Humble Bundle (varied skill-sets that come from specific careers/backgrounds).

As I touched on in the previous section about how to select certain skills for a character based on life experience and backgrounds (admittedly based on variety + how time factors into it, but that’s the point of specific focus sections), we‘re going to take a closer look at ‘skill clusters’.

You don’t have to cluster all of the character’s skills - in fact, I suggest making sure that you don’t do that, unless the character is specifically a bit character who is there to perform a specific function rather than being a long-term fixture in your cast - but there are some that simply are more expedient to cluster and can sometimes boggle the mind if the character sometimes lack some of those vital skills.

Say you have a character who’s a trucker (or, if you’re working with fantasy/sci-fi, the local equivalent of). They’d probably know how to handle a few different kinds of vehicles (in a mundane context, they’d probably be qualified for both commercial driving licenses and the unregistered kind most people have, but possibly also know how to handle loading vehicles), know how to repair their vehicle if it is damaged (this can vary in skill - knowing how to jury-rig a solution to a small inconvenience is very different from resurrecting a dead engine), have a good understanding of navigation, access to a trade-specific tongue (radio jargon, for one, if we’re still sticking with the mundane modern AU), know how to handle long hours of relatively boring work... and that wouldn’t even be the sum total of their skills tied in some way to this particular profession.

Still, it doesn’t read as an unrealistic amount of things for a single person to know how to do, does it?

On the other hand, if I gave you a character who’s... I don’t know, a generic protagonist of no particular employment and said that their list of skills includes navigation, medical knowledge, being an expert chef, trained fighter, classical ballerina, multiple languages, and limited telepathic ability, it reads as a bit much, doesn’t it? Especially when it just comes up out of nowhere without warning or even an allowance for being less than good at those things.

Part of it is that it takes time to learn how to do things, as we covered in the previous section. Having a talent or instinctive understanding for a particular subject can help cut down on that, but that can only excuse a few things - someone who’s a natural born fighter usually can’t turn that natural instinct towards language acquisition or legal understanding. The other part is that everyone knows that most people aren’t good at everything they turn their hand to, so even with a lot of effort, we wouldn’t expect a single person to be good at everything.

That’s why a diversified cast is important, so the needs of the group can be met in a more believable way, though there are also work arounds that can be used to keep the cast smaller or the inability of the group to meet those needs can be used to raise tension in the story. Injuries become a lot more notable when there’s no healer in the group, after all.

Gifts, Loans, and Hard-Earned Pay (the difference between talent, training, and temporary trades)

Now, there are a couple things you could use to ‘explain’ why a character is good at things. Like most of the points I’ve made so far, this is expanding on a few things I mentioned off hand in earlier parts of this article, such as the importance of age and life experience.

Now we’re going to be explaining the mechanics of why a person might be good at certain things. There are a few different approaches to this.

In terms of purely mundane ways, you have talent and training to explain why a person would have a certain level of ability with specific skills. These can’t universally be applied across the board, of course - you’d prefer someone with medical knowledge over someone who says that they have a ‘talent’ for it and there are other fields that require a person have a certain amount of instinctive ability to flourish. Most would agree that it’s important to have both in any given field - for example, art requires both talent (the ability to visualize what you want) and training (to transfer that vision to reality).

When dealing with supernatural settings, there are other routes. Boons from supernatural beings, familial inheritance, memories from a past life, temporary grants of power from special artifacts, and so on.

This can allow for a skill to be acquired quickly while also pushing along the plot in various ways, but there are a number of drawbacks to this one as well - a character who has been granted a supernatural power might lack the practical experience in how to use that power well, the memories of a past life don’t confer the physical conditioning required to actually pull off some of those skills or the world has moved on since those days, rendering those skills out of date and possibly useless, the artifact has a mind of its own and opinions on how it can/will be used, etc.

There are drawbacks to the more mundane routes as well. Training takes time and effort, along with coming with the risk that the character has been trained wrong or in a way that isn’t helpful to their current situation - ex. a medic who’s extremely competent in a hospital setting but is now stuck in a place where they have none of the resources they’re used to, a self-trained martial artist who doesn’t know how to modulate their force well and has a lot of holes in their technique because they never had a trainer to point that sort of thing out.

Talent can lead to a person becoming complacent with the idea that they’re automatically going to be good at a thing forever despite evidence around them to the contrary and make them frustrated whenever they do run into something they don’t quickly understand or make progress with.

On the upside, you can also use these to build off of each other. Training can help refine both talent and control over new gifts, a well-chosen gift can make a well-trained character something breathtaking, and discovering a previously untapped talent can throw a character who’s previously had to struggle for everything in their life a well-deserved bone.

Now, hopefully this covers enough points thoroughly enough to be helpful to everyone. If not, please shoot me a comment and I’ll try to expand on any areas I might have missed.

#characters #skills #talents #training #writing help

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davidmann95 · 4 years

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so I hear that tom kings superman book is actually pretty good?

It’s actually incredible. It has one major blemish that sadly attracted more attention in the entire rest of the series in the chapter of a paranoid Superman imagining Lois’s death - which especially wrankles given King writes a fantastic Lois in her guest-appearances in his Batman, even if I think I get more of where he was coming from on reread - but to the extent that you’re willing to accept or overlook that? Up In The Sky is flat-out one of the best Superman stories of all time.

It’s a very, very simple one, even if it throws Superman into the unusual position of going on a proactive quest rather than reacting to an obvious threat: this is a set of stories about how Superman saves people. It’s not much more complicated than that, even if it explores that three-word premise through assorted lenses to see how far he’ll go to do so, why he wants to, and what he fears the price could be; the magic is in how it uses its broad concept to bring about a series of adventure stories and character pieces that straddle the line between the Silver Age’s classic bombast and the fairy-tale unreality it evoked at its best, updated into a thoroughly modern context. King’s at his absolute peak here when it comes to his unique, punchy dialogue, his tight structuring, and his gift for cutting to the heart of iconic figures from unexpected but deeply satisfying angles, the short-story setup and his clear desire to celebrate rather than subvert Superman’s iconic nature sheering away a lot of his usual idiosyncrasies and leaving something simpler but arguably purer behind. Kubert meanwhile turns in his best work in years as it turns out he’s unbelievably well-suited to Superman, with a Clark who evokes all the warmth and sincerity you want that guy to while still clearly being a Herculean, intimidating figure you in no way want to screw around with, and he conjures up some plenty awe-inspiring alien vistas to boot. The second chapter in particular I said at the time was one of the best Superman stories in years as it examined the prospect of ‘must there be a Superman’ from a really grounded, human perspective of the basic question of how to figure out navigating the world properly, in a way that initially seems like the most on-the-nose grimly Tom King-ass Superman story imaginable and then completely turns it around.

I don’t know that I have much more to say: in a very real way, this truly was at heart the “isn’t Superman just the best?” story many say All-Star is. But it’s better at that than basically any of its competition, and there are individual chapters of this that are going to be in best-of-Superman collections forever. If this ends up standing as King’s full word on the Man of Tomorrow outside guest appearances elsewhere, it’s one he can be proud of.

#Superman #Superman: Up In The Sky #Tom King #Andy Kubert #Sandra Hope #Brad Anderson #Clayton Cowles #Opinion

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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The Ric Grayson AND Talon storylines both end at the same time, and in the same way:

Great Grandpa Creeper Cobb successfully manipulates Ric into position to be brainwashed and become the Talon that Willie the Weenie has always wanted him to be.....this happens for like, two issues.

Then Grandpa Get Ye To A Graveyard Already fucks up....he accidentally brings Talon Ric within sighting distance of the Court’s latest crop of prospective Talon recruits, including a wee baby ten year old orphan being trained to be a future Talon.

And the essential corn kernel of Dick Grayson’s essence, deep down in his psyche, just fucking POPS like its Orville Redenbacher and someone just nuked it in the microwave.

And the real Dick Grayson comes SHRIEKING to the forefront of Talon!Ric’s brain, nothing subtle about it, and the next thing his Rancid Relative knows, he’s being fucking impaled by his great grandson’s blades as said great grandson, who is SUPPOSED to be docilely brainwashed, wtf, is already halfway across the room, diving into the mass of other Talons like they’re a collection of bowling pins and he’s a wrecking ball straight out of a Miley Cyrus music video, but instead of the caterwauling lyrics “I never hit so haaaaaaaard in love,” Dick’s accompanied by a soundtrack of him screaming:

“I WILL PROTECT YOU SMOL CHILD!!!”

As said smol child is just standing there, staring, like....dude, wut?

And then Dick finishes absolutely DESTROYING everything undead and nefarious in sight like he’s the Tasmanian Devil on meth, and he turns to said smol child and begins the process of Smothering, as his hands flutter all up and down checking for injuries but not touching, like:

“Did they hurt you are you alright you’re safe now cough once for I’m all good or punch me in the no-no’s if I’m making you feel unsafe, I will make sure you are totally safe from here on out, you are my baby now, I have decided, but like, only if you want to be.”

And smol child is decidedly overwhelmed but Man-Who-Speaks-Like-He-Has-Pixie-Sticks-In-Place-Of-Blood-Vessels seems harmless, if weird, and is definitely preferable to the weird Bird Men who kidnapped him off the streets and tried to teach him how to kill people and make death threats out of nursery rhymes. And he doesn’t have a lot of experience in OTHER subterranean lairs to compare this one too, but he’s decidedly not a fan, so when Dick asks if he would like him to take him to see Batman and Batgirl and Robin and other superheroes who can also reassure him there will be no more homework on How To Torture People Good, he’s like....”yeah I guess. If you want.”

And so Dick scoops him up with glee and takes off through the tunnels, yelling back over his shoulder: “Bye Greatly-Gross-Grandpa, hate you lots, don’t call, don’t write, you’re officially off my Christmas card list, hasta la neeeeeeeeeever.”

Thereupon swiftly grappling across the Bludhaven rooftops, yelling PARKOUR! just because he can and its fun, and its weirdly relaxing for his wee passenger, because look, this dude may be weird as fuck, but he’s clearly got the moves to protect him from the Undead Legions of Ornithologists and he seems too....fun to be evil, like not in the Joker kinda way like he’s seen on TV in previous foster homes where its like, jeez dude, try hard much, but more like an adult who just quit a soul-crushing cubicle-dwelling corporate-craphole job and has suddenly been reminded that the sky is blue, flowers smell good, and there IS a Santa Claus, Virginia.

Thus by the time they arrive at Wayne Manor, with no attempt made to hide where they’re going from his wee passenger’s eyes - Dick has already decided he’s keeping the kid, pending said kid’s approval but look, kids like him and he’s determined to bring his A game to the pitch meeting, so he likes his chances - said wee passenger disembarks in the Batcave but stays close by, clinging to Dick’s side in an ever so slight way that allows for plausible deniability later, once he gets his bearings and also his bravado back.

“Dick?!” Comes the chorus of voices from the rest of the family, who are all there already, by great coincidence and in great defiance of the crapfests in their own individual titles, but also who the fuck cares. And Dick puffs out his chest, cuz he’s putting on a good show for his new kiddo, first impressions are important...

“Tis I, fam! The one true Dick Grayson has returned! Huzzah!”

Look, being completely oblivious to his Greatest Dork Energy coinciding with his Times He Most Attempts To Be Impressive, is like, Peak Dick Grayson characterization, you can trust me, I’m a doctor.

And Tim’s like, “Why are you dressed like a Talon?”

And Dick’s like, “Isn’t the better question why AREN’T you dressed like a Talon?”

Which makes no sense but shhh, I’m running out of steam here, don’t question the atmosphere, just let it be.

And Bruce is like, “Who’s your friend?”

With like...designs and agendas already in mind, because said wee Talon-to-be is cute and adorable and bravely trying to act like he is not at all intimidated by his surroundings and is in total control of what’s going on like, he meant to be here, this is all according to plan, yes, excellent, everything is progressing nicely....

Which as everyone knows, are the three key essential traits Bruce looks for in prospective adoptees....

So Dick snarls and later blames it on residual Talon-ness, they’re very territorial bird...assassin....people....anyway, the adrenaline is still high and also he has swiftly become attached because whether kiddo knows it or not, Dick 100% credits him with the brainwash-breaking and thus when factored in with the cuteness quotient, what we have here is an instant recipe for Protectiveness slash Possessiveness that would be creepy and inappropriate if this wasn’t pure crack.

But crack it is, and thus Dick curls a protective arm around the kiddo like the lap-bar on a particularly turbulent roller coaster and applies G-Force sufficient to keep even Superman from prying him out of his hands - but in a gentle, non- ’crushing kinda way that might hurt the kiddo,’ even though physics doesn’t work like that, except look, these are CRACK PHYSICS, they can and they do work like that.

And he’s all, “I already adopted him, so back off, Bruce, I’ll cut you. But also hi dad, I missed you. In spirit I mean, like I had amnesia and then I was brainwashed so technically its probably a reach to say I missed anyone but just roll with it. Also I can haz hugs now, please?”

And then Damian apparates in front of Dick amid a cloud of Disapproval that’s really just a cover for OMG-I-Was-Without-You-And-It-Was-Terrible-And-I’m-So-Glad-You’re-Back-But-Also-Who-Is-This-Interloper-And-Why-Is-He-Stealing-My-Hug.

“Tt. Grayson. Your absence was...less than desirable. See to it that this doesn’t happen again. Also what is that and why is it here.”

“Aww, Dami, I’m sorry. I promise to install a “please have the nearest available psychic reboot my brain in case of future brain damage slash amnesia” clause in my living will, and soon as I get a free second, I’ll break the fourth wall and blackmail the DC editorial staff into declaring me off-limits for all death, brainwashing and/or kidnapping plots for at least the next four major crossover events. I have naughty pictures. They’ll cave.”

“Hmph,” Dami says. He resumes staring pointedly at the kiddo, who juts his chin defiantly and stares back while clinging more tightly to Dick, because he may have very little clue what’s going on, but he’s a quick one and has at least picked up on the fact that Dick wants him and this other kid wants Dick. Which combined with the rescuing and the kicking of bad guy ass means Dick is probably Quality and In Demand and Of Value, and thus he might as well stake a claim now and worry about whether or not to act on that or skedaddle later, once he’s got more intel. He’s a natural Bat, this one, but then, that’s probably why he was in Toddler Talon Boot Camp, he scored high on whatever weird aptitude tests they used to scope out talent, and by talent we mean murder-skills.

“Dami,” Dick admonishes then, “This isn’t an it, he’s a person, and he was recently traumatized so promise me you’ll be on your best behavior or at least your ‘engaging in shenanigans with Jon’ behavior. And he’s not competition, you’re my Dames and my little bro, and he’s potentially your nephew, which is a whole separate category and no threat to you and your baby bro status at all, so retract the claws. If anything, the real danger is Pops adopting him and thus supplanting you as the official Baby Bird of our generation, so make like an ally and help me get that dangerous “I’m gonna adopt this kid so hard” gleam out of Bruce’s eye before it gets any gleamier. We’re still only halfway through my tearful reunion and having to cut Dad before we even get to cake would be a major mood-killer, but I’ll do it, I swear. Also, get your Baby Bird behind over here and hug me already, I have two arms.”

Damian rolled his eyes but obediently disappeared and reappeared nestled against Dick’s other side in the blink of an eye. The proper application of ninja skills has always been the pursuance of hugs and cuddles. Thus sayeth the crack.

“Hey, I do get cake, right?” Dick asked suddenly, looking around dangerously. “I was amnesiac and also brainwashed, I deserve cake, TELL me there’s gonna be cake.”

“Well that answers whether or not we should be worried about this being an attempted infiltration or not,” Jason says, strolling over casually. “No impostor or brainwashing script-writer could ever duplicate the Essence de Dick so perfectly. Hey squirt. Welcome to the madhouse. I’m Jason, what’s your name?”

“Oh right,” Dick realized, cocking his head. “Hey, what is your name?”

“Really, Dick?” Tim sighed, fondly exasperated. “I realize you like to jump from A straight to Z whenever possible, but steps B through Y aren’t usually just mere suggestions.”

“It hadn’t come up yet,” Dick defended himself.

“Yes, why would it have,” Duke mused from where he was leaning over and snapping his fingers in front of Bruce’s eyes, in a futile attempt at tearing his gaze away from the viable adoption candidate within 20 meters from him. It was probably best that they get this adoption thing inked out and signed off on as soon as possible - it was the only thing that was definitively going to get that “Argh, I’ve spotted treasure ahoy” look out of Bruce’s eyes. And Alfred had been very clear :Bruce was forbidden to adopt any more kids himself until he got a better handle on juggling the six he already had. Which. The past year had...probably not met Alfred’s standards on, so it didn’t seem likely he’d be waiving that requirement any time soon.

(And nobody wanted to get in between the Unstoppable Force that was Bruce’s ‘must adopt all the orphans’ and the Immovable Object that was Alfred’s ‘must maintain at least a reasonable fascimile of order in this household, even if it is a total sham, appearances matter.’)

“Hey!” Dick protested. “I’ve been busy, okay? There was fighting and then there was parkouring and now we’re reunifying, and it wasn’t like I was just calling him ‘that kid’ in my head, I was calling him ‘my kiddo’ which is a perfectly reasonable identifier and thus more specific detail just....hadn’t been relevant yet!”

“So uh, bee tee dubs, what is your name, buddy?” Dick asked, looking down. His kiddo looked back up at him for a long, measuring moment, and then he shrugged.

“I’ll tell you in exchange for some cake. You said something about there being cake, but I don’t see any.”

Dick got misty-eyed at that. “See? He already prioritizes like me. This was destiny! Also, you heard my kiddo, do we not deserve cake? It has been a very long day, there was murder and mayhem and more. Also, my creeper great grandpa was there being icksome, and you know how much that weirds me out.”

“Come along, Master Dick,” Alfred said then, appearing out of nowhere thanks to his Bat-Butler Magic. “And your young charge as well. I already have your favorite baking in the oven and it should be done shortly. Lemon meringue with raspberry layers.”

“That’s disgusting and I will not participate in any ceremony that treats that as part of a celebration instead of just a weird kind of laxative,” Jason said loftily, though it escaped no one’s notice that he was the first to the stairs.

“Shut your facehole, its delicious and amazing and you will like it or I will kick your ass,” Dick said, equally loftily.

“Boys,” Bruce said with a long-suffering sigh, as the threat of brotherly bloodshed was enough to finally shake him out of his orphan-induced stupor.

“At MARIO KART. I will kick his ass at MARIO KART, ugh, jeez, B, why do you always assume the worst of us?”

“Precedent,” Tim said dryly.

“Who the hell asked the Oompa Loompa Brigade to weigh in with all ninety of his pounds?” Jason called back from the top of the stairs.

Cass came up on Dick’s left, where the kiddo was one half of the sandwich made by him and Damian on Dick’s other side. She smiled down at him when he directed his still very wide-eyed gaze at her, landing on her after his latest sweep of the cavern and all its contained chaos, as if trying to take it all in - most likely in the hopes that if he could manage that, somehow the last 72 hours of his life might suddenly make sense. He really was adorable.

“Don’t worry,” she beamed at him, reaching out to pat him comfortingly on his shoulder, right above where Dick’s arm was still curled around it like a warm blanket - albeit one with the tensile hold of a python. “They’re all crazy, but only in the good ways.”

Duke scoffed as he slipped ahead of them and started taking the stairs two at a time. “It’s funny how you say that like you’re some kind of exception to the rule.”

“Bold words, little brother,” Cass called after him. He only shouted back from the top in a booming voice, his words echoing down the narrow stone stairway dramatically.

“Am I not Batclan?”

“Oooh, is that a new thing we’re doing?” Dick asked excitedly. “Somebody catch me up, I demand context. I smell a story there.”

“It was Jason’s fault,” Tim said automatically. Dick nodded.

“Sure, that tracks. Continue.”

Bruce trailed after his brood of batlings and birdlets, sidling over to where Barbara was waiting for the elevator. The latter having hung back to watch the commotion with the air of one taking notes for repurposing in the form of future blackmail material. Her ever extending network of spies and informants made so much more sense, suddenly.

He cleared his throat while they listened to the hum of the elevator’s machinery as it descended to their level.

“I wasn’t really thinking of adopting the boy,” he said. Not at all sullenly, nor with a trace of defensiveness to be found.

“Of course you weren’t, Bruce,” Barbara said. She patted his arm fondly, with all the conviction of a kindergarten teacher whose student was attempting to claim innocence on the matter of a paint disaster perfectly matching the paint stains on his hands.

“I wasn’t,” Bruce muttered as she preceded him into the elevator.

Why did nobody ever believe him?

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