#but yes! enjoy! the Crash arc is very thoroughly planned out in my head and lately its one of my favorite things to imagine before bed <3
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hi. here's a little over 5k words for the modern human au! entirely unedited, as usual! you'd think this is a full oneshot... ha... no... i actually have some warnings for this one - hospitals, panic attacks, major character injury / discussion of death / clinical description of injury.
in short, my writing comfort zone <3
~
The dial tone plays, and Barnaby looks down at his phone. Call ended stares back at him under Wally’s cheerful profile picture.
“He hung up on me,” Barnaby states. His lips twist and he tosses the phone onto the couch with a snarl of, “That little bastard.”
“Hey now,” Howdy says sharply, frowning at him. “That’s our friend you’re talking about.”
“Like he doesn’t deserve it! All I do is be supportive, understanding, and worry about his damn well being. And then he goes and acts like my very much well-founded concern is an attack!”
Howdy’s frown softens as he watches Barnaby pace, gesturing wildly.
“I love that RV. Maybe not as much as Wally, obviously, but it pains me that it needs to go. And it does need to go! Thing’s becoming a damn deathtrap.” Barnaby pushes his hair back and huffs. He glances at Howdy. “Right? I’m making the right call, here?”
“Of course you are,” Howdy says. “But-”
Barnaby cuts him off. “I tried to be nice about it. I tried to warm him up to the idea of retiring Home, yaknow? And what does he do instead of handling it - he revs up the tin can and runs. Home shouldn’t be started, let alone driven. It’s dangerous.”
It’s extremely dangerous. Wally is skilled at driving it, but no amount of skill will save him if it breaks in the middle of the freeway. What if the engine catches fire? What if a tire pops, or comes loose? Home is old, and wasn’t made to crumple in a crash. Barnaby doesn’t even know if the airbag still works. It’s not safe.
The thought of Wally bringing Home hurtling down the freeway at ten at night in a - quite honestly - not great mental state turns Barnaby’s stomach.
“I just wanted him to come back so we could talk about it,” Barnaby says. “I let him keep worming his way out of a serious conversation and now - now he’s -”
“Running away,” Howdy finishes. The point of his pen taps a rhythm against his notepad.
Barnaby jabs a finger at him. “Exactly. One tough, necessary decision and he turns tail. This isn’t gonna go away if he skips town! Not to mention how he isn’t giving a thought to how this might affect the rest of us.”
“Especially you.”
Barnaby throws his hands up with an indignant look. “Now not only do I have to hunt him down-”
“That would be a we scenario, Barn.”
“But we,” Barnaby concedes, “gotta try to knock some sense into that thick skull ‘a his, and drag him back home - kicking and screaming if we hafta.”
Howdy’s pen taps faster. “What if he doesn’t want to come back?”
“What if he-” Barnaby stops short and stares at him, wide eyed.
That’s not.
That wouldn’t happen, right? Wally would come back in the end. He wouldn’t decide to up and leave entirely, would he? He is in Home… all the essentials he needs are in that RV. Barnaby sits down heavily on Howdy’s threadbare couch. “What if he doesn’t want to come back.”
Wally would have to come back to clear out his studio - he’d never abandon his art. Then they’d have to go through everything inside the house and see what he wants to take, since not all of it is Barnaby’s. A lot of it is shared, so they might have to bargain on who gets what.
Then they’d all have to watch Wally get into his motorhome and drive away. Possibly for good.
Barnaby would be alone in that big house with Welcome, knowing that his closest companion is out of his life. Living somewhere else. It's sickening.
“I’m sure it won’t come to that, Barn,” Howdy says, watching him with furrowed brows and a deep frown - if Barnaby were feeling like himself, he’d crack a joke about him emulating Frank. “I can confidently say that Wally loves you more than that old RV.”
Barnaby snorts. “You sure about that?”
“Unflinchingly. Believe you me, he’s going to wallow for a day or so, and then Home will come rumbling back down your driveway like it never left.”
“I wish I could have your faith,” Barnaby mumbles. He exhales and picks up his phone. No missed calls, no messages. “Maybe if I call him and ask him to just come back, no strings attached, he will.”
“That’s the spirit! Save the talk for another day - tell you what, I’ll help you corrall him so he can’t escape the conversation. I’ll tie him to a chair and bar the door if needed!”
“Good luck with that. Kid’s slippery.” Still, Barnaby hits call again. It rings only a couple of times before a robotic automated message states the caller as unavailable. Barnaby doesn’t enjoy being upset with Wally. However, it feels like his blood is simmering, and the wall is starting to look like great target practice for his phone. He grits his teeth. “He turned off his phone.”
From the corner of his eye he sees Howdy’s eyebrows shoot up as the man turns back to his paperwork. He exhales a controlled breath and writes something down. “I have to say, I’ve never known him to be such a-”
“Pain in the neck?” Barnaby offers.
Howdy clicks his tongue. “You said it, not me.”
“Yeah, well, he’s full of surprises.” Barnaby lets out a frustrated huff. He’s half tempted to run Wally down right now, but he wouldn’t even know where to start. There’s only one freeway out of town, but it goes both ways, and it branches. Wally would have hit one of those branches by now, and who knows which he took. North, south, east, west. Deeper into the woods, or towards the city? To the coast? Somewhere else entirely?
He has to face the facts - there’s nothing to do. He just has to wait until Wally pulls his head out of his ass and realizes how stupid and insensitive he’s being. Those are two words Barnaby would never normally use to describe Wally, but after tonight? They seem fitting.
Barnaby can’t even muster up guilt for thinking such harsh things. He tried to be nice. He was patient. He’s always kept a lid on it whenever Wally frustrated him, which doesn’t happen often, but it does happen. And what does he get for caring? For being tactful and careful about a shitty situation?
Avoidance, a shove, and a cut call. Wally left Barnaby’s been left to stew in his own anger and worry. Right now, he’s inclined to lock up that worry in a tiny box in the back of his mind.
Barnaby pushes himself up with a grumbled, “I’m makin’ some coffee, want some?”
“If you’re offering then I will not decline.”
Barnaby pretends not to feel Howdy’s eyes following him to the apartment’s tiny kitchen. It’s hell to maneuver around in, and the frustration of bumping into something every five seconds only makes Barnaby’s mood worse. By the time the coffee is brewing, he’s ready to punch the cabinets. He won’t, but he wants to. He’d regret it immediately, but he stares at the chipped paint and fantasizes.
The coffee machine breaks after brewing a whopping single mug. Barnaby stares at it for a long moment, and tallies up the consequences of taking a hammer to it. In the end, he just clenches his fists for a long moment and counts to ten. He takes the mug and sets it in front of Howdy, then goes to the window to brood. Thankfully Howdy is too reabsorbed in his work to notice beyond a mumbled thanks.
For the next hour, Barnaby’s thoughts are entirely composed of Wally. Different scenarios of what might happen next, how Barnaby might handle those situations without shaking Wally for doing something so needlessly reckless, and cruel daydreams of setting Home on fire. Barnaby wants to feel bad about that. He doesn’t. That damn RV has caused two different rifts between Barnaby and Wally - and Barnaby was the one to fix both of them, because both times Wally just left.
He gets it. He really does - for a time Home was all that Wally had. It’s been with him since Wally was thirteen, and if the thought of retiring it to a dump makes Barnaby sad, he can only imagine how much it distresses Wally. Well, he can do more than make an educated guess. Wally practically told him tonight, if not with words than with actions.
Still. They’re adults - Wally is older than him, if only by a handful of months. When does Barnaby ever ask something of him? When does Barnaby ever push? Why can’t Wally see that Home is becoming a liability, and why won’t he listen? Barnaby can’t make it make sense.
Wally has always been more inclined to avoid conflict, but this is too far. Barnaby swears, when he tracks Wally down he’s going wring that scrawny little-
His phone is ringing.
Barnaby lunges for it, relief dousing his anger. He picks it up, ready to give Wally a piece of his mind and then beg him to come back-
“It’s an unknown number,” he says, shoulders slumping. Of course it’s an unknown number. Wally wouldn’t change on a dime and decide to be considerate for once. He exchanges an exasperated look with Howdy and declines. He goes to set the phone down - the number calls back.
“That’s one determined scammer,” Howdy says. He leans back in his chair and holds out a hand. “I’ll deal with ‘em.”
Barnaby is all too happy to hand it over. Let the poor sap on the other end of the line deal with a master swindler.
“Howdy-hi, how can I help?” Howdy starts with a mischievous grin thrown Barnaby’s way? He leans back in the chair and hums. “Who, may I query, is asking?”
All at once, the ease drains out of Howdy and he stops fidgeting. He sits up, already looking at Barnaby with a paled expression that has something cold slithering down Barnaby’s spine. Something is wrong.
“He’s right here.” Howdy holds out the phone. His throat works uselessly for a moment before he plainly states the obvious, “It’s for you.”
Barnaby takes it, his mouth abruptly dry. Howdy is already up and moving - grabbing his coat, his keys. “Hello?”
“Is this Barnaby Beagle?” a professional feminine voice asks, tinny through the phone.
“B. Beagle, yeah.”
The woman introduces herself as the nearest city’s hospital, and Barnaby’s heart drops through the floor. She asks him to confirm that he’s Wally Darling’s emergency contact. He confirms, his voice sounding distant to his own ears. Howdy takes his arm and gestures to his shoes by the door, spurring Barnaby into motion.
“Is he okay?” Barnaby manages to say. He puts the wrong shoe on the wrong foot and almost curses aloud as he switches it.
“Mr. Darling was involved in an automobile accident,” is all the hospital employee says. “He was brought in a few minutes ago.”
Barnaby steadies himself against the doorjamb, choking on a whispered, “Oh, god.”
Keys jingle as Howdy opens the door and pulls Barnaby through, then locks the door behind them.
“But is he okay?” Barnaby asks again as they hurry down the short hallway to the stairs.
“I’m not at liberty to disclose that information at present.”
It’s bad. It has to be bad if they won’t say anything over the phone. He must be silent for too long, because Howdy takes the phone, tells her they’ll be there soon, and hangs up. He tucks the phone into Barnaby’s pocket before opening the door to the store’s back lot.
The frigid air slaps the shock out of Barnaby, and sensation comes flooding back in. He grabs the keys out of Howdy’s hand and strides to the car with long, powerful strides that would leave anyone shorter than Howdy in the dust.
“Are you sure-”
“I’m driving,” Barnaby growls, cutting Howdy off.
Howdy makes a disapproving noise, but relents. They get in and Barnaby adjusts his seat with harsh movements, jabs the key into the ignition because Howdy’s car is a dated hunk of junk, and peels out of the parking space before Howdy even has his seatbelt all the way on.
Howdy clings to the ceiling handle as the car tears down the mostly empty street, going at least ten miles over the speed limit. Barnaby doesn’t know exactly where the hospital is, but he knows how to get to the city. They can figure it out from there. Several people honk as Barnaby brings them flying onto the freeway.
“Holy Marilyn marmalade!” Howdy screeches as they narrowly avoid side-swiping a minivan.
Barnaby ignores him and cuts off a pickup to get into the right lane for the interchange. Howdy whispers a string of something high pitched and strained and clings to the handle with both hands.
It takes him a moment to parse out the constant ramble as, “-pull over pull over pull over pull over-” Two honks and a squeal of tires as Barnaby almost causes an accident, and Howdy yells in a louder and deeper tone than Barnaby has ever heard from him, “PULL OVER!”
Barnaby clenches his jaw and cuts across the carpool lane’s double whites. It only takes a moment to reach the shoulder. Howdy leaps out of the passenger seat as soon as the car stops, marches to Barnaby’s side, and wrenches the door open.
“Out,” he snaps, breathing hard. “Barnaby, I swear to all things priceless, get out. “
Barnaby meets his steely gaze for all of a second before unbuckling and getting out. Cars whip by. Howdy huffs at him and slips into the driver’s seat, muttering about recklessness and disasters and if you would wait to try and kill us until we’re right outside the hospital, if only to save us the ambulance fee-
When Barnaby gets into the passenger seat, Howdy waits for him to buckle in with fingertips drumming on the steering wheel. He merges onto the freeway smoothly and carefully. They go slower than the speed Barnaby had them flying down the asphalt at, and it makes something deeply impatient itch in him, but it’s safer.
“I know you’re upset,” Howdy says, eyes still fixed on the road, “and I know that you’re scared. But what in hell’s bells was that, Barn?”
Barnaby side eyes him and grimaces, folding his arms. “I don’t know. I’m sorry - I shouldn’t have put you in danger like that.”
“You put yourself in danger too, you know.” Howdy sighs and relaxes his grip on the steering wheel. “We’re of no use to Wally if we get ourselves in a crash. What would he say?”
“Whatever he’d say would be hypocritical,” Barnaby says before he can think better of it.
Howdy glances sharply at him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“He..” Barnaby’s voice fails on him, and he swallows hard. “He was in an accident.”
Howdy is silent for a full few seconds before he exhales a thin, pained sound. “Oh, Walls…”
He must not know what else to say, which is good and well, because Barnaby doesn’t either. A long few minutes pass of silence. Headlights of passing cars on the other side of the freeway flash over them before plunging back into darkness. The dials on the dash glow. The check engine light is on. They’ll need to get gas in order to make it home.
“I’m sure it’s not as bad as you’re thinking,” Howdy says. He’s tapping the steering wheel again. “It’s likely just a few scrapes and bruises, at worst a broken bone. Nothing Wally can’t handle, and certainly nothing to be concerned over.”
Barnaby can’t bring himself to agree. Maybe… maybe if Wally was driving slowly… but that wouldn’t matter if someone crashed into him with enough force. Home is a large, sturdy vehicle, but it isn’t invulnerable. Wally certainly isn’t.
Without the distraction of driving, all Barnaby can think about is the what ifs. Yeah, what if he’s only a little bit hurt, but what if it’s worse? All of the worst images Barnaby can think of roll through his mind like a messed up movie reel.
Wally dead on the scene, caught in a hunk of twisted metal.
Wally, choking on his own blood in an ambulance, dying en route to the hospital.
Wally flatlining on a metal table.
Wally’s small body covered with a sheet-
“Almost there,” Howdy says, slowing at a stoplight. It bathes them both in red. Barnaby didn’t notice when they got off the freeway.
Barnaby squeezes his eyes shut and presses his forehead to the cold window. After a moment, a slender hand rests on his thigh and squeezes. It’s such a small, stupid thing, but Barnaby breathes a little easier.
Despite the drive down the freeway feeling like it took hours, the drive through city streets to the hospital passes in a blink. Before Barnaby knows it the car is spiraling up to an upper floor of the parking garage. The floor is mostly empty - Howdy pulls into a spot right by glass double doors.
Barnaby gets out a split seconds before Howdy, staring at the pristine white walls just inside the doors. In a moment he’ll find out if it’s not that bad, or if he’s about to have the worst night of his life. He’s been to a hospital twice. The last time was for Howdy, but he went with the knowledge that it was only a precaution. The other time was for Mama’s health scare.
That had been terrifying. The waiting, the wondering, the too-bright hallways and the staff’s rigid smiles. It ended well, but it had still been horrible, and hospitals took center stage in some of his recurring nightmares. Barnaby never wanted to see another loved one in a hospital bed again.
Looks like he doesn’t have a choice.
Howdy comes around from the driver’s side and lays a hand on Barnaby’s shoulder. “If you need a moment to-”
“Nah,” Barnaby says, his voice rough. He nods and adjusts his sleeves. “Better rip the bandaid off.”
They go into the sterile maze. The bright overhead lights dazzle Barnaby’s eyes after being in the dim parking garage, and he grimaces at the strong odor of antiseptic and floor polish. Howdy makes a beeline for the nearest receptionist and talks to her in rushed, low tones.
Barnaby shuffles after him, rubbing his shaking hands together and eyeing every person in scrubs that walks past. Something beeps somewhere. He thinks he hears someone crying. This is a place without color, art, or happiness.
“This way,” Howdy says, walking past him and tilting his head at the elevator. Barnaby follows, feeling like a lost puppy dropped at the side of the road.
A nurse gets into the elevator with them and politely smiles before staring at the floor counter and pretending they don’t exist. It’s fine with Barnaby. If he has to make small talk right now, he might actually snap. The man’s pink scrubs are almost an eyesore in the harsh lighting.
The elevator dings, and they all get out on the same floor. Howdy reads door plaques and wall signs like a hawk, his head turning on a swivel as he reads everything at lightning speed. Barnaby nearly has to jog to keep up with his hurried pace.
Howdy changes direction without warning and heads straight for a door at the end of a short offshoot hallway. Barnaby reads the sign next to the door.
[can’t remember if it’s icu or the other thing, research later]
It’s bad.
The waiting room is small - longer than it is wide, and there’s a woman sleeping in a chair in the corner. It looks nicer than the emergency room, or where Barnaby waited to see his mama. The benches have colorful cushions, and the walls are a pastel green instead of white. There’s an abstract geometric painting on the wall next to the woman.
Barnaby slowly takes a seat on stiff cushions, watching Howdy talk to the receptionist from afar. He nods and pats the counter before joining Barnaby. He sits close enough that their legs press together.
“Someone will get us up to speed as soon as there’s news,” Howdy says. “I tried to pry some more out of him, but he wouldn’t give up another word.”
Barnaby nods, staring down at his hands. His nail polish is already chipping, despite Julie painting them only last weekend. Barnaby picks at the bright red on his pinkie until Howdy pulls his hand away and enfolds it in both of his own.
When Howdy takes a deep breath, Barnaby finds himself mimicking him. Their gazes meet - Howdy’s is unflinching, and steady. He smiles and runs his thumb over Barnaby’s knuckles, soothing the nervous trembling, and Barnaby is struck by how darn grateful he is to have Howdy with him.
If he had to do all of this alone… Barnaby doesn’t think he could. Either he’d have gotten himself into a crash to join Wally, or he would still be sitting in his car, staring at the hospital doors. He doesn’t have the courage. But Howdy does, and Barnaby loves him for it.
For once, Howdy lets the time pass in silence, though after a long stretch of indeterminable time he gets up to pace. The bench cushions are high quality, but they start to feel uncomfortable. Barnaby doesn’t dare go for a walk. At least they’re not the usual waiting room chairs - he’d rather stand than try to fit into those plastic, narrow things.
At some point the woman in the corner wakes up. She startles seeing two strangers in the room with her, but quickly ignores them. Barely a few minutes pass before she leaves, mumbling something about coffee. She doesn’t come back. Barnaby spends a while wondering why - did she go home, or wait somewhere else, or did she receive news in the halls?
Howdy sits down again and starts typing furiously on his phone. When Barnaby gives him a curious nudge, he quietly explains that he’s texting the group chat. Barnaby feels a twinge of guilt at that. He completely forgot to let everyone know that there’s a… situation. Who knows if any of them will see it until morning.
Message sent, Howdy gets up to pace some more. His rhythmic gait gives Barnaby something to focus on, seeing as the clock on the wall is silent, and the receptionist seems to be sleeping. Barnaby could probably pass time on his own phone, but every second spent distracted is a second he might miss someone coming to tell them…
What? Tell them what, exactly? That Wally is okay? That he can receive visitors?
That he didn’t make it?
The door opens, startling Barnaby to his feet. Howdy scurries over from the far side of the room and rests a steadying hand on Barnaby’s lower back. A woman clad in blue scrubs enters, reading something on a clipboard. There are shadows under her eyes, and she looks beyond exhausted. Barnaby can sympathize.
“Mr. Beagle?” the doctor asks, looking between them. When Barnaby nods, she smiles thinly, gaze flicking briefly to Howdy. “Hi. I’m Dr. Allen. Before I disclose any sensitive information, I’d like to confirm what your relation to the patient is.”
The question gives Barnaby pause. He’s always had a difficult time putting his and Wally’s relationship into simple terms, because it’s anything but. Wally is his best friend, his dearest companion, the man he lives with and can’t imagine being without.
“He’s my partner,” Barnaby settles on, because it’s a good umbrella term. Partner can mean a lot of things, and people don’t usually pry for specifics. “We’re as good as family.”
Dr. Allen writes something down on her clipboard. “No worries, I’m not going to kick you out if you’re not - you’re his emergency contact for a reason, after all. It’s just basic information that I’d like to have on hand.”
“Course - so how is he?” Barnaby cuts straight to the chase. He’s not in the mood for niceties.
“Well, Mr. Darling is certainly giving us a run for our money,” Allen sighs. “He’s not out of the woods yet, but I believe he’s gotten through the worst of it.”
“He’ll make it?”
Allen offers another tight lipped smile. “We’re doing our best.”
Barnaby has seen enough hospital dramas to know that we’re doing our best means no promises, prepare for the worst. Howdy must feel the tension gripping him like a vice, because his hand slips from Barnaby’s back to his hand.
“What are his injuries, if I may?” Howdy asks.
“I’m not sure-”
“Please. We’d rather know than wonder.”
Allen looks between them and sighs again. She flips a page on her clipboard. “Unfortunately, there was a bit of time between the crash and when emergency services were called. Between blood loss and the near-freezing temperatures, Mr. Darling developed mild hypothermia.”
Wally was dying, cold and alone in the wreckage of his home for who knows how long before anyone came to help. Barnaby sways in place, and Howdy helps him sit down on a bench instead of the floor. Allen looks apprehensive.
“Keep going,” Barnaby rasps. He needs to know.
Allen doesn’t look happy about it, but she continues. “Mr. Darling also suffered several low-grade lacerations from shrapnel, some fractured ribs, a compound fracture in his left tibia, and currently unidentified damage to his right hand and lower arm.”
Barnaby swallows a mournful sound. That’s fine, it’s fine. Broken bones heal - Wally will be painting again in no time.
“He also developed an intracranial hematoma. It’s been treated, but we won’t know the extent of the damage until Mr. Darling wakes up.”
“What is that?” Howdy asks before Barnaby can figure out how to speak again. “Intracranial hematoma - tell me if I’m wrong, but that sounds like a head injury.”
“It is - in layman’s terms, it’s a brain bleed. Head trauma can cause bleeding inside the skull, which puts pressure on the brain. We caught it as quickly as feasibly possible, which should raise his chance of a full recovery.” Allen flips the clipped page back into place. “There may still be lesser complications and injuries we haven’t been able to diagnose or address yet. I’ll be forward with you - this is one of the worst crash cases I’ve seen in some time. Mr. Darling was lucky to be found alive.”
Allen goes on to offer platitudes that Wally is a fighter, and easily answers the flood of questions Howdy has about the mentioned injuries. It all sounds distant. Underwater. The room is too small and the air is stale - are the vents working? Is there a window they can open?
In a blink - and yet the conversation lasts ages - Allen promises to come back with more information as soon as she has it. She smiles one last time and leaves.
“Barn?” Howdy sounds muffled. “Barn, are you alright?”
What kind of question is that? Of course Barnaby isn’t alright - his best friend is dying, likely on this very floor. There’s a chance he’s already dead. Barnaby might have already lost him, he just doesn’t know it yet.
Mr. Darling was lucky to be found alive.
One of the worst crash cases I’ve seen in some time.
Mild hypothermia - brain bleed - lacerations - fractures.
Lesser complications and injuries we haven’t been able to diagnose or address yet.
We’re doing our best.
“He hung up on me, the little bastard-”
Barnaby is up and out the door before he registers moving. He staggers down the hallways in a blur, everything swirling together into a mess of sight and sound as his lungs struggle to get a full breath. He bypasses the elevator and takes the stairs down to the level they parked on.
The cold air does nothing to help him breathe. Barnaby chokes on it as he leans against the rough wall grasping at his chest. Howdy is there immediately - he must have been on Barnaby’s heels the whole time.
“Talk to me, Barn,” Howdy pleads, a hand on the back of his neck and the other over the one Barnaby has on his chest. “What is it - you’re not having a heart attack, are you? Tell me you aren’t, I can’t handle that right now.”
Barnaby doesn’t know. Maybe? He feels like he is. He can’t breathe. He tries to say so, but the ragged gasps his breathing has devolved into doesn’t allow it. Howdy must know something he doesn’t, because he doesn’t run to get a doctor.
“How can I help?” he asks instead.
“Don’t - don’t - know,” Barnaby wheezes.
“Okay, alright, don’t worry, Barn, I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. Let’s try, ah - what were the steps? I didn’t exactly write them down, though in hindsight I should’ve - that’s not the point! It was… what a time to take after Eddie’s memory-”
It shouldn’t be helping, but Howdy’s constant stream of words grabs Barnaby’s attention. He manages to inhale nearly a full breath before it stutters back out and he’s struggling again.
“Breathing!” Howdy says. “Yes, that was it - Barnaby, I need you to focus on me. Copy my breathing.”
He sucks in a slow, dramatic breath through his nose and exhales just as slowly through his mouth. Barnaby catches on and tries to mimic him, but-
“Can’t, I ca-an’t,” Barnaby says. His chest hurts.
Howdy presses their foreheads together. “Yes, you can. Come now, Barn, in… out. Simplest thing in the world.”
It doesn’t feel simple, but Barnaby tries. It feels like forever before he manages a full inhale. He butchers the exhale, but Howdy praises the minor win before launching right back into measured breathing.
Barnaby finally manages a slow inhale and exhale, and suddenly it feels like the pressure filling his chest has vanished. He slumps against the wall, worn out. He puts his hand over Howdy’s mouth in the middle of another dramatic demonstration.
“You’re alright now?” Howdy says, peeling his hand off. Barnaby nods, and Howdy leans next to him with a whoosh. “Thank the stock market - I was starting to get light headed.”
It takes another few minutes for them to catch their breath. Barnaby straightens enough to rest his head on Howdy’s shoulder, breathing in his cheap cologne and homemade laundry detergent. Howdy cups the back of his neck and massages the tense muscle there.
“This will all turn out okay,” Howdy promises. “Wally is stubborn - I think we both know that well enough. By this time tomorrow we’ll be moving forward.”
Barnaby wants to be that optimistic, but this is real life. For all they know, moving forward means making funeral arrangements. His breathing stutters and he forces it to even out before he can start hyperventilating again.
A car pulls into a parking space with a gravelly sound. Barnaby pays it no mind until Howdy makes a surprised noise - Barnaby looks up, and his stomach churns.
Frank, Eddie, and Julie are all getting out of Frank’s car. They’re all in various states of dishevelment. Frank’s hair is a mess, and he has what looks like Eddie’s company jacket thrown on over his pajamas. Eddie is in little more than a shirt that says male? lol, more like mail! and boxers - he’s even wearing slippers instead of shoes, and his hair flops over his forehead in soft tufts. Julie’s hair is still in curlers, and though she’s wearing shoes, she’s in a too-long shirt over sweats that don’t belong to her. They’re paint-stained.
They rush across the parking lot, all worried faces and tired eyes. They’re already asking what happened, is Wally okay, Sally is getting Poppy, they should be here soon, has there been any news-
Barnaby lunges at the nearest trash can and vomits.
#IM SORRY FOR ANY HOSPITAL/PROCEDURAL INACCURACIES IM NOT TRYING TO BE ACCURATE AT THE MOMENT#except for the injuries. those are realistic and i did my due diligence. read a lot of first hand accounts! medical pages!#ohhhh this was so cozy to write#i mean. not as familiar as actual on-screen injuries but yk#its been too fluffy in here.#this is a mild example of my usual tastes and habits when it comes to fic & fiction#WHUMP CENTRAL BABEYYYYYY#i like it messy and painful!!! Lets Fuckin Go!!!!#this is a prime example of me not being able to shut the fuck up when writing#my scenes & convos just go on and on and on and on....#but yes! enjoy! the Crash arc is very thoroughly planned out in my head and lately its one of my favorite things to imagine before bed <3#bedtime stories can be fictional characters going through horrible injuries & emotionally hurting each other#snippets from the bog#i will repeat what i have said multiple times before#i take the comic relief character. i hurt the comic relief character#i could have posted the little carnival half-scene. i could have#but ive been feeling stressed and caged and i need to let out some steam#and this is how i do that. controlled fictional violence <3
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Would it be possible to get the aftermath of a heroic whumpee who went up against someone incredibly far out of their league? Kind of along the lines of that one time Dazzler went up against the Juggernaut on her own (A heroine with light projection powers vs a villain with the power of unstoppable force) and ended up being beaten to the point where she was too weak to move. The other heroes become her caretakers for a little while. I loved that arc and could really use something similar.
I can hardly describe how much I love this prompt. I absolutely adore it, and I can only hope that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! I think I’m somewhat familiar with Dazzler, though when I looked through the wiki, I couldn’t find anything about this story? The wiki may just be incomplete, though. It reminds me of a story arc of the original ms. marvel, too!
This is absolutely one of my favorite kinds of whump, and I really hope that I did it justice. Thank you so much for the ask!
CW//Medical settings, poison, therapy, paralysis, inability to speak, self-hatred, low self-esteem, hair-pulling
The metal doors at the entrance to the Metropolis General Emergency Room swung upon with the force of a thunder clap. And, just as thunder, they too heralded lightning.
Or, at the very least, light.
A pair of lab-coats pushed forth a gurney on ratta-tatta-tattling caster wheels, footsteps crashing on the floor in even rhythm. Close behind, an entourage of two sprinted in close pursuit: A pair of heroes in civilian clothes.
“Lux!”
To the person laid upon the gurney, the voice felt to be emanating from a thousand miles away. Or more. Maybe a couple thousand, or a million... It was hard to think about numbers when their mind was stuffed with cotton, and their vision was dominated by blurry white ceiling tiles.
“What in the world happened to them?” The doctor that spoke had had all sense of clinical professionalism drained from their tongue.
“We don’t know.” A hero, outfitted in jeans and sweater, replied in a single, slurred sound. “We just found them, and-”
It was too loud. Far, far too loud-- Lux felt as though the full force of the ocean had made the sudden decision to crash into their eardrums. And, beneath at all, the caster wheels refused to stop their clitter-clatter. Spikes piercing their temples, they let out the tiniest of cries.
A tiny sound, and all eyes were on them.
“Lux!”
“Lux, what in the world happened to you?”
“What the hell did you do?”
“Talk to us!”
“Wake up!”
“Wake up.”
“Lux. Lux, what did you do?”
Lux, what did you do?
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
The support beam shook against the force of the body, hurled at it. Shudders rocked from the base to the top, threatening for the thousandth time the structural stability of the building.
And the structural stability of Lux’s ribs.
With several hoarse coughs, the hero struggled to hands and knees, joints wobbling as though the ground they were braced against were the epicenter of an earthquake.
They could taste it.
They could taste what they had been inflicted with, more than they could feel it. The wound upon their side had long since gone numb-- at the very least, the poison had that benefit to it. Now, the sensation had migrated to Lux’s tongue. A bitter flavor of burnt coffee.
Even if they had the chance, they had no desire at all to examine the gash that had been torn across their side. They’d heard the stories, seen the headlines.
Lux knew what happened to Mercury’s victims.
That was why they were here, after all.
“Had enough yet, kid?”
The voice was booming, sounding from the other side of the half-toppled warehouse. In their weakened state, Lux could barely raise their head high enough to meet the eyes of their foe.
Mercury’s height was unimportant, as was their general stature. After all, it was hard to focus on his body. It was hard to focus on anything but the claws-- terrible, wicked things curling outwards from his knuckles.
A single slash from them, and flesh would begin to curl away, to rot. To necrose.
The wound they had been inflicted with was already a death sentence. But, not an immediate one-- Lux had a bit of time left on death row.
A bit of time to make this right.
Shivering, the hero stood to their feet, facing their opponent from a hundred foot’s distance. It was the most ridiculous of match-ups. A chihuahua against a pit bull. A garden snake against a cobra.
That didn’t mean that Lux couldn’t try.
“Firefly wants another round, then?” The villain’s voice curled, almost as venomous as their blades. “Try me, kid.”
And try they did.
Hands balled to fists at their side, Lux took one, single step forth, stomping onto the warehouse’s concrete floor with a decisive strike.
It was as though a bomb had gone off.
The world was swallowed, all at once, by white. Light engulfed each shadow, each color, until the universe was as blank as unexposed photo paper.
It was merely a distraction, a smokescreen. But they needed time to recover. Time to catch their breath.
Time to remember why they were doing this.
In the world of heroes, Mercury had a particular nickname-- “The Untouchable.” He was the lion in the zoo. No one dared get near him, much less touch him. It was a death sentence, to be slashed by his claws. The heroes were terrified of him, and that gave him a free license to tear the world to shreds.
It was from one of their villainous informants that Lux had heard of the plan initially. The water supply. Mercury had found a way to distill the poison held within their claws, and they intended to release it into the city water supply.
To kill every last citizen of Metropolis.
But the others turned merely a blind eye. No one would touch the villain. They had resigned themselves to dealing with the aftermath.
That would mean deaths. That would mean ‘acceptable causalities.’
To Lux, there was no such thing as an acceptable causality. Only a problem that needed to be solved.
Their teammates had insisted, begged, nearly, that they not be so careless. But, when had Lux even been known as the careful one?
Not once in their life.
“Stop this, Mercury!” The hero snapped into the expanse of white. “Just-”
Lux did not so much as see the fist before it connected. Did not so much as feel the claws, raking their neck.
Not before the world went from black to white.
Lux, what did you do?
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“You did it.”
Those were the first words that Lux heard clearly, after escaping from their haze. Consciousness teased them as the world above turned from colors to shapes to vision.
White tiles, spotless and all in a row. Their perfect nature was threatened only by an out-of-place beeping that nearly forced the hero to once more fall to sleep.
But, they managed to cling to consciousness as they turned their head to the side, revealing a figure, interrupting their view of the tiles overhead.
A figure. A person. A-
“You did it, Lux.”
Nora. Nora, their friend, their teammate, their comrade. Not Mercury. Not a villain. If Nora was here, then they were safe. The hero had an almost supernaturally calming way about herself, located somewhere between her wispy tangle of black hair and the way her movements imitated the performance of a dancer.
But, wait- Why wasn’t she in uniform? No, now she bore only the clothes of a civilian.
No. No, of course she wasn’t wearing a uniform. Lux had gone on a mission, yes. But it hadn’t been with their team.
They’d tried to stop Mercury, and-
“The water’s safe.” Nora’s voice was only just as smooth as her movements. “Mercury’s been contained. You did it.”
“And by god, what were you thinking?!”
The shout sent a stabbing agony through the side of Lux’s skull. That was more so the reaction they had expected.
Nickel. The most paranoid superhero on planet Earth.
Lux struggled to open their lips, to bring forth an explanation. To state that they had been doing what was right. That they had been doing what a hero should have done.
And yet...
And yet, their lips refused to so much as twitch. Too, their tongue sat dead in their mouth, numb and useless.
The only muscle in their body that functioned was their heart, which in that moment began to race.
“You could’ve died!” Nickel’s tirade continued, despite the fact that the target was showing not a single reaction. “Or worse! You could’ve died, or worse, or both! That was so stupid.
Don’t give me the silent treatment, dammit. Explain yourself!”
Lux wanted so desperately to do so. Their heartbeat turned, now, to a pounding tattoo within their skull, the pedal of a bass drum, slamming against the inside of their cranium.
They couldn’t move.
A twitch of the head. A blink, maybe. That was all. That was all they had left.
Lux had saved the world.
Their vision began to swirl.
Lux had saved the world, but what had they given up in exchange?
Telling when the hero fell unconscious was nearly impossible. Yet, when their eyes at last drifted closed, it became clear that whatever wakefulness they had had was now extinguished.
That left two heroes, one proud and one paranoid, leaning over a hospital bed. Shivering both in their own rights, Nickel and Nora stood. It was with great care that the room’s entrance was pushed open. The doctor that did so walked backwards-- their hands were quite thoroughly occupied by a clipboard.
Nickel and Nora said not a word, as speechless as their teammate. They both knew that this was the bringing of news.
This doctor was the bearer of their friends fate.
“They’re going to live.”
That was what they started with.
“With medical care, Lux will survive this ordeal. However, they will need to stay under intensive care until their immediate symptoms subside.”
Nora stared blankly for a long moment, before whispering:
“They aren’t moving. They aren’t talking.”
The doctor could manage only the more sympathetic of nods. Again, they repeated themself, but, this time, with an addition:
“Lux is going to live. But, most likely, they will never be the same. The poison has taken its toll on their system. There’s no cure. No antidote.
One day, they may be able to move, or speak. But, they have a very, very long road ahead of them.”
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Very, very long was an understatement.
No, the doctor would have been better have describing Lux’s journey as a highway from Moscow to Las Vegas.
“The rains in Spain fall mainly on the plain.”
“Da ra’zz spa- ff mm a pla.”
“The rains in Spain fall mainly on the plain.”
“Za ree z’pa fa ma- play.”
“One more try. The rains in Spain-”
“Nnn- oh! No!”
The lab-coated doctor sitting before Lux set down their clipboard with a heavy sigh, sending only another bubble of rage rising in the hero’s chest. They balled their hands into fists, shaking them furiously before placing their open palms upon their temples.
Lux hated this. Lux hated every last minute, every last instant of this. They hated the doctor. They hated the doctor’s office they had to sit in, walls covered from floor to ceiling with charts of vowels and consonants. More than anything, they hated their exercises.
It should have been simple! Eight words. Eight simple words. If they could repeat them properly, then they would never have to go to one of these stupid appointments ever again.
But, they couldn’t. They couldn’t say eight simple words. In fact, they couldn’t even say one.
A month in the hospital, and Lux could not so much as speak. It made them want to tear their hair out! In fact, they would do that, had they had the motor control for it.
But, they didn’t. They didn’t have anything.
The last month had been the longest of the hero’s existence. Hell, those thirty days had felt to be longer than the rest of their entire life, put together! Thirty days and thirty nights of utter hell.
When they had gone off to face Mercury on their own, Lux had been very well prepared to die. They had not been prepared for this.
From the outside, the progress that the hero was making was undeniable. They had begun in a state of complete and utter paralysis, able to move their head, their eyes, and not a thing else. It was only with thrice-a-day physical therapy that they had begun to move. First, it was only moving their head. Then, their arms. Their legs. By the end, they could even sit up, with the help of a helping hand.
Every day, Lux’s teammates visited. And, every day, they congratulated their friend on their progress.
But, as far as Lux was concerned, it had been a month, and they hadn’t made an inch of progress. As hard as they tried, they were still laid up in a hospital. Still broken. Still useless.
They knew that their friends were trying. They knew-- it was evident on their expressions. Those constant, stupid looks of pity. They would never speak about their own lives, about their missions. The villainous plots they’d stopped, the battles they’d won. No. They focused only on the mundane: Where they’d gone for lunch, how they’d spent their evening.
It was out of pity. Lux knew that. It was all pity. But, in all truth, those were the only moments during which they ever felt, truly, like themself. Like Lux.
Like a hero.
So they’d heard, the media had praised them, lauded them for their victory. But they never spoke of the sacrifice it had taken.
Their friends’ visits were the only parts of the day that Lux had to get forward to. The rest of their life was filled with... this.
“Lux.” The doctor coaxed. “You need to do your exercises. You’re already getting so much better! But you won’t make any progress if you don’t try.”
“Don’ thwaa ex- thwaa ta.”
“Don’t want exercises, want talk?”
Lux narrowed their eyes. But, that had been what they were trying to say. The fact that it needed to be repeated, interpreted, however, made them feel sick.
“You need your exercises, Lux. How about we just try one more time? I know you can do it. You’re already doing so well!”
Eight simple words. Eight simple words, and Lux could be a hero again. Eight words, and they could be a person again.
“Okay, Lux. Repeat after me: The rains in Spain fall mainly on the plain.”
“Tha ran-”
Yet, that was all they could make out. Lux’s throat ran dry of words, void of syllables. They couldn’t speak before, and now, they couldn’t so much as make a sound.
They never cried in front of others. Never. Yet, that rule had been broken in the hospital already a dozen times. And, so it seems, this would make thirteen.
Lux’s chest was wracked with heavy sobs as they buried their face in their hands. Soon, tears leaked from beneath their shaking fingers.
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“I’m right here for you, Lux. Lean on me all you need.”
Nora’s voice carried the same cadence as water, meandering through a stream. Too, of course, did her gestures. A gentle, yet firm hand took Lux by the wrist, wrapping their arm around their comrade’s shoulder.
“It’s going to be hard, okay? It’s going to be hard. It’s okay to get tired. And you don’t have to get it on your first try. Or your fifth. Or your hundredth.”
Lux stopped listening on the last part.
This was it. The final gauntlet. Nearly an entire season spent within hospital walls-- now came their test. Everything counted on it. As far as they were concerned, it was a matter of life or death.
If they succeeded, they were home free. They could be brought home by their teammates-- of course, while still attending outpatient physical therapy, but still! They would be home.
And, yet, if they failed? They would be placed back in their hospital room. They would continue to be useless, a burden on both doctor and friend alike.
Everything was riding on this. Lux took a deep breath, and opened their eyes to face their challenge:
A hallway.
They had studied it extensively. Seven feet in width, and perhaps twenty in length. A tiny little thing, used only to get between two particular rooms. It was in the very depths of the hospital; that was why they were using it. There was no chance of distraction, of interruption.
“Are you ready, Lux?”
“Yesthh.”
“Okay.”
Their weight was leaned, nearly entirely, upon Nora. But, that didn’t matter. It wasn’t a test of standing on their own. If that was the test, they’d never get out of this hellish place. All they had to do was make it to the end of the hallway, with help. They could go slowly. They could lean. They could rest.
They only had to make it to the end.
Nora placed one foot forward, waiting for Lux to do the same, which they did, slowly and shakily. It was in this manner that they moved. One foot, one foot, staying always in the slowest of locksteps.
For Nora, it was simple.
For Lux, it was agony. Their knees felt mere milliseconds away from buckling, legs straining under the weight of the rest of them, even as the vast majority of it was leaned onto their friend.
Five feet. Five tiny, minuscule steps. That was how far Lux made it.
And then they were falling.
They did not remember the fall, not really. One moment, their knees had given out. And, the next, they were on their side, on the carpet.
Shaking.
This had been it. This had been their chance. All they had to do was walk down a hallway, that was it! Then, they could have gone home. Then, they could have been with their friends.
Then, they could have finally been a hero again.
And they’d failed. They’d failed the simplest of tasks.
In that moment, a certainty struck Lux like a dagger to the chest: They were never going to get better. Never. It didn’t matter how many exercises they did, how many doctors they saw. This whole thing was pointless! They were going to be worthless until the end of time.
On the floor, Lux screamed. It was a babbling, incoherent thing, as most sounds they made were. Too, they began to thrash, slamming their fists into the floor as they howled in anguish.
Then, they weren’t thrashing anymore. They couldn’t.
Lux had no need to open their eyes to tell what was happening. They knew Nora’s footsteps, knew the sound of her racing over. The feeling of her, hauling them into her arms. Holding them close.
They knew, also, the sounds of doors opening. Of more footsteps, familiar footsteps. Of chattering voices. Their friends’ voices.
Their whole-
Lux’s breath caught in their throat.
In order to avoid distraction, it had only been them and Nora in the room. They had assumed that it was only Nora who had visited that day. And, yet, they knew these voices.
Their whole...
Their whole team. Their whole team had come to watch. They counted every voice, every pair of footsteps. Every last one of their friends had come to watch them succeed.
But, they’d only watched them fail. Lux expected heckling, expected to be berated.
They did not expect the half-dozen pairs of arms, wrapped around them. They didn’t expect to be the center of a group hug.
“You’re doing so well.”
“You got so far!”
“Just a little more practice, and you’ll be back out there fighting crime in no time.”
“You’re almost there!”
“That’s the furthest you’ve been able to walk yet!”
“We’re proud of you.”
Lux’s tears did not stop.
And, yet, they realized something:
They were no longer tears of sorrow.
#hero whumpee#whump#whumper#whumpee#caretaker#whump community#hero x villain whump#hero villain prompt#hero x villain#hero villain scenario#hero villain whump#whumpblr#whump blog#whump scenario
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BnHA Chapter 220: My Villain Academia
Previously on BnHA: Shouto and Kacchan took on a purse-snatching gang led by a dude who could manipulate and control carbonated water. Katsuki blew a bunch of them up (but, you know... gently), but then Soda Sam knocked over a metal pole that almost killed some stupid lady. Thankfully All Might knocked her out of the way and Katsuki deflected the pole with another explosion. Meanwhile Shouto one-hit KOed the Soda Sam guy to wrap things up. Afterwards the two were praised for their quick and professional action, and All Might proudly headpatted them and it made my fucking day. We then cut to the Brotherhood of Destro, where the Detnerat CEO’s thugs brought in a “guest” they had just apprehended -- none other than the League of Villains’ favorite broker, Giran, looking somewhat worse for wear. DetCEO politely asked him for info on the League, and Giran told him to go fuck himself. So it looks like DetCEO’s gonna try to get this info from him via some unpleasant means. We then flashed back to a month and a half prior and cut to some cliffside where Gigantomachia was decimating the League of Villains (sans Dabi) and complaining about how weak they all are. Seems like AFO’s underlings have some issues to work out amongst themselves.
Today on BnHA: The series continues its streak of excellent chapters with a flashback showing what the League of Villains has been up to for the past however long. We open with Tomura and the gang crashing the secret meeting of some racist anti-mutant cultists to rob and murder them (which, can’t really condemn that tbh). Unfortunately they don’t wind up with much to show for their efforts aside from a sense of satisfaction. The thing is, they’re broke, and currently holed up in some condemned trash house in the countryside while Tomura sits around waiting for the plot to come find him. Specifically he’s on the lookout for a “great power” that AFO supposedly left behind for him, and also trying to track down AFO’s personal doctor -- the guy who developed the Noumu. Anyway, he seems pretty content to sit and wait, but the other members of the League aren’t quite so patient, particularly Spinner who only joined them in the first place because he was inspired by Stain. Fortunately for everyone, the plot finally does choose this moment to barge in on them all in the form of everyone’s favorite Goron, Gigantomachia. He literally rips the house apart, and then demands that Tomura prove he’s worthy of succeeding All for One. Fast forward to where we left off last chapter, and as Giganto laments that the League is too weak, Tomura suddenly hears the doctor’s staticky voice coming from the dude’s radio.
(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 226, so any ETAs will reflect that.)
so we’re starting with Tomura, who’s doing this
and then this
which I guess is only to be expected
oh shit hold up
feeling artistic today, were we Horikoshi? having some fun with that there fourth wall
“before we continue from where we left off, let’s see how we got to our present situation.” lol okay
so this appears to be a very nice house out in the woods somewhere. if I had to describe it, I’d say it’s the kind of house Detective Conan characters would get invited to only to find themselves caught up in a sudden murder spree (which they would eventually solve, but only after like three people were killed in a row)
but seriously, doesn’t it look like the power and phone lines are just waiting to be suddenly cut off at the same time that the only bridge back into town is conveniently blocked or destroyed, leaving them with no immediate way out and no way to contact anyone (because of course there’s no cell service either)?
by the way this is the best title Horikoshi has ever come up with, full stop
straight up thing of beauty, this
so anyways, apparently this is some weird cult meeting or something? and Tomura’s gone and crashed it
the examples he decided on, though. Horikoshi have you had some strange encounters with chocolate-hating cockroach fans lately or what
I see Spinner’s making do with just a regular dumb old sword nowadays. no more over-the-top Game of Thrones-inspired swordmalgamations. hey Spinner what is your quirk
holy shit
so basically they’re racist against people with mutant quirks. we had quirk supremacists, and now we have very nearly the opposite. this arc continues to be fascinating and Horikoshi’s worldbuilding continues to get deeper and deeper. this is so far beyond what I imagined we might one day get when I first started reading this series, and it’s amazing
also the Tomura-led LoV continues to somehow be inherently likable in spite of all the murders and whatnot. don’t know how they do it, but damned if they don’t pull it off
now all in favor of them killing off this entire gathering of racist shitbags and taking their mansion, say “aye.” I mean, why not. unless these people were all open with their family and friends about their secret Racist Society Gatherings, no one’s gonna have any clue where to start looking if they all suddenly disappear
anyway, so next page. is this Spinner’s narration, then?
holy shit does Spinner have an extra pair of eyes that I’ve only now just noticed or what. this is freaking me out
(ETA: it’s just his usual ninja turtles mask, but it seriously does look like there’s a second pair of slit pupils in this one panel and it had me second-guessing everything I ever knew for a moment.)
lol meanwhile Compress and Toga are digging through the CRC’s cabinets looking for shit to steal and sell
how are you guys so badass and so fail at the same time
wow and apparently these racists aren’t just racist, they’re fucking stupid as hell too
yes, a candelabra against the guy who can disintegrate people with a mere touch. you really pose one hell of a threat there
so Tomura’s dodging and he’s grabbing the back of the guy’s head!
show of hands, who thinks they’ll actually be smart enough to listen to him. ...yeah that’s what I thought
so now there’s some glorious carnage, and since we’ve thoroughly established that these assholes are The Worst, of course no one actually minds watching them all die horribly
and no one’s gonna mind when they finish off DetCEO at the end of this arc, either. because of what he did to that poor mouse. so apparently all you need to do to keep your audience rooting for the villains is to keep pitting them against Even Worse Villains for the rest of the series lol. plot twist, the League never actually faces off against Deku & Co. for the rest of the manga
I’m only half-joking, too. for me, it really all hinges on whether or not they’re actually responsible for the Noumus (because kidnapping and experimenting on children and turning them into your helpless minions and then getting them killed = Not Cool), and/or how much involvement they actually have in that. but if their hands are clean of that, I will gladly be Team LoV for as long as possible. it’s very easy to do just so long as they keep playing in a separate conference from my 1-A kids. not sure what I’m gonna do once playoff season arrives, though, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it
(ETA: and well, we now know that they have no idea where the Noumus come from! and that Tomura himself is a confirmed victim of Ujiko and AFO’s child abduction and manipulation games as well. so for now I’m perfectly happy to root for them. villains who are just doing their best.)
anyways, I guess it’s bad that I pretty thoroughly enjoyed that, huh
well you can always take the mansion as mentioned. you guys could use a more swanky hideout now that the Ol’ Villain Bar is out of commish
lol oh shit these guys really are broke
if only there was a company out there who recently branched out into the black market villain goods business and was looking to get in contact with you. but I guess we’re still a month and a half away from that. oh and also it’s a trap and they want to kill you (but you guys seem pretty capable of handling yourselves though, so)
also, this is easily the most attractive/least creepy Tomura has ever looked and it’s very strange. did you grow out your hair dude
lol what are you guys even doing
you had a sweet new mansion all to yourselves! just slightly bloodstained and possibly now haunted! but still a real steal considering you would have gotten it for free!
and now Spinner’s headband seems like a normal headband again. where did the eyes go. Spinner you’re starting to freak me out here
anyway, so Kurogiri was clearly the breadwinner around here. without him these guys have no clue how to go on. though Tomura seems to be perfectly content as long as he’s got a couch and a table to put his feet up on
!!! well LOOK WHO IT IS
hello Touya
so he says he’s the only one who’s been trying to gather allies, and Twice is pointing out that he’s yet to bring a single person back with him
and Tou -- I mean Dabi, says “that’s because they’re all trash”
is this how you talk about your good friend Hawks behind your back. for shame
ah okay, so now we’re getting a better idea of the timing here, as Tomura says it’s been approximately one month since Kurogiri’s capture. as you recall, that happened on the same day of the Overhaul raid, which was back in late September if memory serves. so this is now late October, which means that it won’t be long before the encounter with Giganto
(ETA: lol for real. in five... four...)
anyway so we’re flashing back to what I guess is the last conversation Kuro had with Tomura before his capture. I’m interested to see if we learn more about who he was planning to meet up with. probably was Giganto but we never confirmed!
“a great power.” interesting! well, Giganto certainly would seem to fit the bill
and now Tomura is staring at the Quirk-Be-Gone in his hand, and saying that Kurogiri failed in the end, and thanks to that “we’re having a real hard time searching for the doctor”
so now WHO IS THIS DOCTOR, THEN. I THOUGHT KUROGIRI WAS YOUR DOCTOR. WHY WOULD YOU SHATTER MY ILLUSIONS LIKE THIS YOU RAISINY SOB. CLIP YOUR FUCKING NAILS
also you expect me to believe that Giganto is a doctor? that Giganto? that one??
-- OH SHIT HOLD UP!!!
AHHHHHHHHH OKAY HOLD UP LET’S HAVE OURSELVES A QUICK BLAST FROM THE PAST HERE AS I GO AND SEARCH FOR THE PANEL FROM CHAPTER 59
okay, first of all!
I didn’t notice this my first time through, but it’s implied that this is the building where AFO is holed up and watching Tomura from afar. please note how this is not the Ol’ Noumu Warehouse. not even close
(ETA: hey guys is it just me or does Ujiko live in the fucking Chrysler building)
second, here are the two panels with The Doctor
and third...
okay, so this is something I’ve seen mentioned in Dad for One posts, and now that I look at these panels again... yeah. definitely a resemblance there. this is either the same guy, or his evil twin
and now add to that that Tomura just confirmed that this dude is the one who was in charge of the Noumu project. a project which we know most likely involves kidnapping children. and this doppelganger who may or may not be the same person is a fucking pediatrician. and not just anyone’s pediatrician -- Izuku’s pediatrician
which makes one consider two things. one, is it really a coincidence that AFO’s personal physician just happens to be baby Izuku’s as well? (although he might also be a quirk specialist that Inko took him to see.) and two -- presumably this means he would have treated other children in the Musatafu area as well, right? possibly including this boy here?
I mean, we all agree that this means this little guy was fated to be turned into this thing and subsequently get murdered by Stain, yes?
lol yeah so friendly reminder that this series has been pretty fucked up since long before we started dealing with kidnapped little girls and strangled mice and mansion cult murders
(ETA: okay so as of the Ujiko reveal I’ve gotten to read up a lot more about the good doctor here, and there’s one more thing which I feel should be added to this post:
this is from page 174 of the BnHA character book, and basically confirms that our lil winged buddy Tsubasa-kun here is the doctor’s fucking grandson. you know, because this whole Noumu plot wasn’t horrifying enough yet. let’s just see how fucking dark we can make it. holy shit.)
anyway! now that we’ve enjoyed that refresher, let’s continue and see where this all leads
lol Toga is poking fun that Tomura didn’t even deny the “you’ve been lonely without Kurogiri” part. and indeed, he still isn’t
and now Spinner is addressing Tomura directly and asking him “what the hell are we even doing?”
he says he’s here because he was inspired by Stain
apparently he was discriminated against as a child growing up in a bad area. people called him a dumb lizard man and he was used to things just being like that and he just accepted it as the way of the world
watch out kids, we may or may not be getting some fucking Spinner feels here oh shit
anyway, so that lasted until he saw Stain’s last moments on TV and was inspired by how he was trying to change the world all on his own
he says he realized for the first time how suffocating the world is, and he couldn’t sit still after that and that’s why he joined the League
wow Dabi
that’s all you’ve got to say dude?? don’t sleep on other people’s angst just because you obviously have your own horrific secret backstory that you have yet to share
so now Spinner is getting really bold and grabbing Tomura by the collar and shouting in his face that he doesn’t understand his lazy attitude
well Tomura? do you have a good answer?
the others are all watching, and Twice is the only one who seems anxious lol. Toga’s actually yawning and Dabi just seems mildly interested in where this leads. and Compress’s face is unreadable cuz of his mask
eh what’s this now
OH SHIT
ALREADY?? SO THEN WHERE WAS DABI IN THAT TWO-PAGE SPREAD FROM THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER
also wtf at Tomura diving to grab all his spare hands and (I presume) frantically scramble to put them all on before the wall comes busting down
oh, he looks very excited though
and not at all concerned at the fact that this dude just ripped his house apart. I guess because he naturally expects that AFO will be loyal to him if he’s someone that AFO left behind. remember how entitled he used to be about things like the Noumus? “I’m allowed to have whatever I want, right?” or something along those lines? no doubt he feels similarly about Giganto here and is probably in for a rude awakening in three... two...
anyway, so Tomura is explaining to the others that this is one of the “battle assets” that AFO left behind
oh boy here we go
“brat”? can the radio communicate his thoughts or something?? seriously, what’s up with that thing?
anyways lol
his face omgggggggg
that’s right Tomura, if you were waiting for shit to just be handed to you like how it always used to be, you got another thing coming boyo
anyway so now we’re finally back to the present! (which is still a month and a half in the past though lulz)
nah he ain’t weak he just needs to get up off his ass
so now Giganto is clutching his head and falling to his knees in despair as the others look on in confusion
!!!
DON’T TELL ME
WELL SHIT, O-FUCKING-KAY THEN
aggghhh you guys. so today is March 26 2019. as of my writing this, there is exactly one more chapter to go. and then that’s it. I’ll be all caught up. I am simultaneously excited and dreading that shit
but. here I go
#bnha#boku no hero academia#shigaraki tomura#himiko toga#spinner (bnha)#twice (bnha)#mr. compress#dabi#gigantomachia#ujiko daruma#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#makeste reads bnha#well guys#I'm off to see avengers: endgame#ready to be kicked in the emotional balls#willingly#wish me luck#I won't post anything about it afterwards since I know a lot of people won't be able to see it right away#and I don't want to spoil anyone#so you can just assume I'm devastated since that seems like a pretty safe bet
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The Missy Chronicles and why it’s one of the best Doctor Who books ever made.
Is it as hilarious as it sounds? Even more so.
I just read The Missy Chronicles and I still can’t believe how perfect it is. Each story brings something unique to Missy’s character and adds some interesting things to Doctor Who canon that you really, no I mean really, don’t want to miss.
(Below is a short synopsis of each story and some memorable quotes/things that happened. If you don’t want spoilers, come back and read this once you’ve read the book!)
1. Dismemberment by James Goss
Basically, the Master always goes to this sketchy gentlemen’s club after he regenerates to just chill and be around other morally questionable people. But this time there’s a problem. The Master (as Missy, though she hasn’t decided on her name at this point) goes to the club like usual after her regeneration, but gets kicked out because she’s a woman. The rest of the story is her carrying out very extravagant plots for revenge on each of the members of the club, including, but not limited to: making it rain blood; tying a man to train tracks, marrying him, and then letting him get run over; and last but not least, freeing an African American slave and letting her poison the food at the club’s big annual celebration, telling them they can be cured if they eat some paper, and then telling them after they eat the paper that she was lying.
Favourite quotes:
About Missy: “Her eyes possessed that cold burn you got from holding ice.”
Missy: “So sorry I’m late. Just been running over a maths teacher with a milk float. You know how it is.” (GUYS I’M NOT CRAZY MY THEORY WAS RIGHT AND IT’S NOW CONFIRMED, MISSY KILLED DANNY!!!!!)
Generally, this story was funny and very typically Missy. Also the African American slave Missy saved is the one who eventually comes up with the name Missy, and the only person from the club that Missy didn’t kill was a certain man named Dr. Skarosa...
2. Lords and Masters by Cavan Scott
The time lords recruit Missy to go on a mission for them, so they hijack the Eye of Harmony in her TARDIS and send a time lady to hold a gun to her head. Basically she has to figure out what’s causing some strange time disturbances, and it turns out this doctor genetically engineered a creature that could travel in space and time and kept it in stasis so that he could gain the power from its energy or something like that. Missy was supposed to kill the creature, but instead she manipulated the time lady to kill the doctor, kept the creature, and miniaturized then killed the time lady and sent her back to the General on Gallifrey.
Favourite quotes:
“Missy had places to go and people to subjugate.”
“Missy gave her the look she usually reserved for simpletons and UNIT personnel.”
Not too much went on story-wise, but it was interesting to see how Missy dealt with being pushed around by the time lords. She also gets her first “companion” in this story: Yayani, the time lady who’s supposed to kill her if she doesn’t obey the time lords’ instructions.
3. Teddy Sparkles Must Die! by Paul Magrs
Yes, it is just about as strange as it sounds. Missy becomes the governess of three children in early/mid-20th century England. The children are suspicious of her and go through her things, only to find a sparkly teddy bear who’s really an alien who can distort time and complicated stuff to grant wishes. The teddy bear lets them go to crazy places like the moon and Missy gets the kids out of trouble. In return for her rescuing them, she wants the kids to wish to grow up to be powerful people in the world, and the kids do it because they don’t really get it. So they grow up and become powerful people, forgetting about Missy. Then Missy comes back when they’re older and demands they give her the world. Teddy Sparkles (the alien bear) thwarts Missy’s plan by rewriting time and sending the kids back to their childhood, though he also accidentally incorporates crazy creatures that Missy told the kids stories about into the world. Teddy Sparkles uses up the rest of his energy/life to set everything right again, even inventing a fictional story about a governess with a carpet bag and an umbrella who takes children on fantastic adventures so that Missy will become famous, which is something she hates because she gets crowded by people gawking at her. Missy leaves, and in the end one of the children grows up to be a grandmother, and Teddy Sparkles shows up as a Christmas present for one of her grandchildren.
I didn’t write down any really memorable quotes from this one, but the whole Mary Poppins connection was great, and I found it interesting that Missy actually “lost” in this one; it wasn’t from her point of view at all, either.
4. The Liar, the Glitch, and the War Zone by Peter Anghelides
This one is pretty complicated to explain because it’s very timey-wimey, but basically Missy runs her TARDIS into some Gryphons (after escaping from the Daleks at the end of The Witch’s Familiar) and then crash lands in 21st century Venice. Through a series of things happening (time rifts and stuff are involved), Missy’s dematerialisation circuit ends up in 14th century Venice and she goes back in time with a random girl (Antonia) and also tries to destroy 21st century Venice in order to get her TARDIS working again and escape the Gryphons. After the TARDIS starts working again Missy time rams her TARDIS and everything undoes itself, so 21st century Venice goes back to normal. Missy tries to leave Antonia in 14th century Venice with her dead friend who fell through a time rift, but Antonia mysteriously ends back up in the TARDIS. More on that in a sec because...
GUYS. THE THIRTEENTH DOCTOR IS IN THIS STORY. NO JOKE. Missy discovers her dematerialisaiton circuit went back in time when she sees an ad for it being on display in a museum. She tries to ask where it came from, but all the employees keep telling her to talk to the curator. So finally she sets up an appointment, and that’s where I immediately became suspicious. The curator’s office is very thoroughly described, and while the combination of old and new stuff (including a plague doctor’s mask) could be telling of the Doctor (I mean, Day of the Doctor and the Curator, hello???), it also could just be a typical curator. But what set me off was that the curator is never physically described at all. There are other clues (before an obvious reveal at the end of the story.) Through the whole story people keep calling Missy “signora” and she insists that she wants to be called “signorina” instead. The curator calls Missy “signorina” without any indication from Missy. And as the curator is helping Missy find out where the dematerialisation circuit came from, she says “I do enjoy this kind of research myself. It’s a real trip into the past.” Missy also runs into a plague doctor back in the 14th century when she’s getting her circuit back. Then at the end it’s made really clear. Antonia shows up in Missy’s TARDIS (after Missy tried to abandon her) saying “If it wasn’t for her, no one would have seen me again.” She then gives Missy a note: “...two short paragraphs of neat handwriting chastised Missy for her lack of caution, and told her that she would need to try much harder.” Missy goes back to the curator’s office and finds it empty except for the plague doctor’s mask. All the curator’s secretary can tell her is (and it’s the last line of the story): “The doctor doesn’t work here any more.” (*SCREAMS*)
Also, Missy decides to call one of the Gryphons “Hermione” and then says that she’s a Slytherin girl herself because she goes for the bad boys. She also says that she sees some Severus Snape in herself.
5. Girl Power! by Jacqueline Rayner
I don’t know how Jacqueline Rayner can write perfect Doctor Who stories. Every. Single. Time.
This story is not told in traditional narrative fashion, but initially through messages that Nardole and the Twelfth Doctor send back and forth to each other. Nardole is guarding Missy in the vault and is worried when she seems to be putting together some sort of plot. The Doctor tells him to go along with it, and soon enough Missy is contacting important and influential women all throughout history to create MADAM, Missy’s Army for the Demotion of All Men. (I’m still dying over that XD). She creates a group on “Spacebook” and chats with these women, including Henry VIII’s wives, Joan of Arc, Lady Jane Grey, Elizabeth I, Agatha Christie, and Jane Austen. Basically Missy just wants them all to kill all the men on the planet. But the Doctor joins the chat pretending to be Circe and gets all the women to leave the chat. He and Missy end up talking because Missy of course knows it’s him, and the Doctor thinks she came up an elaborate plot so that she could escape the Vault. Missy sort of accidentally confesses, however, that she was trying to have the oppressed (women) fight their oppressors (men), like the Doctor would do.
Favourite quotes:
Literally the entire story. The synopsis is vague because the meat of the story is Missy writing all these feminist things about how to respond to stupid man questions and how to do things that women can’t do at certain points in time (like vote, own property, etc.) and sending them to the members of MADAM. At the beginning of the story Nardole relates to the Doctor things that Missy has asked for, and the Doctor approves or disapproves them. These things include: hairspray, history books about important women (which was where she got the MADAM idea), marshmallows, a campfire (to roast the marshmallows; however, the Doctor doesn’t approve that one because “If she’s still got that can of hairspray, we could all be in big trouble.”), a tiger, and sherbert lemons.
Missy: “It has come to my notice that being a woman isn’t just about the addition of some wobbly bits and a sudden inability to grow a goatee.”
Missy on her Spacebook profile under the section ‘other names:’ “Professor Thascales, Colonel Masters, Reverend Magister, Sir Gilles Estram, Mister Saxon. Look, if I called myself ‘Reggie’ or ‘Dave’ the Doctor never even had the decency to suspect it was me. I used to go to a lot of trouble dressing myself up for him so is it so wrong to want some attention?”
Missy on her Spacebook profile under the section ‘life events:’ “Born, Died, Died, Died, Died, Died, Died, Died, Died, Died, Died, Died, Died Died, Died, Took over some bloke’s body, Died, Died, Died, Became a human, Stopped being a human, Died, Died, Became a woman, Ruled!”
Missy: “I’m 100% done with human women. Hate the lot of them. Hope they all use lead-based makeup and die.”
I literally did not stop laughing throughout this entire story. And I really mean that. My abs hurt.
6. Alit in Underland by Richard Dinnick
Takes place during World Enough and Time/The Doctor Falls. Missy and Simm!Master travel around Floor 507 with Alit, the girl who gave Cyber-Bill the mirror in The Doctor Falls. The Masters (with Alit in tow) take out some Cybermen who come after them and find an elevator to leave the floor.
Not much plot-wise, as you can see, and it’s a fairly short story. But bantering between the Masters is fantastic, and one of the best parts is Missy and Simm talking about how much they love cartoons. Missy tells him that she and the Doctor watched Frozen together and Simm can’t believe it and keeps judging her for it, when finally Missy tells him to “Let it go.”
The other interesting and really cool aspect to this story is Missy’s character. She comforts Alit, tells her a story when she’s frightened, and even holds her hand. She also deliberately saves people, but keeps that a secret from Simm. I really like how the final two stories incorporate Missy’s slight moral shift. And the last little bit of the story, and of the book itself, is awesome:
Simm!Master: “Tell me. Travelling with the Doctor. What is that all about?”
“I was imprisoned. It was the only way out.”
“So you did have a plan before you ran into me. Get rid of him; betray him?” He licked his lips. “Kill him?”
“Get rid...?” Missy looked at the Master, and her face became a stony façade. “That has a certain ring to it.”
...
“Note to self: Get rid of...betray...kill.” Missy nodded. “Yes. I suppose that’s the only way.”
The Missy Chronicles, everyone. If you have the chance to read it, please do.
#the missy chronicles#beebs book reviews#book reviews#missy#the master#doctor who#dw#dw books#doctor who novels#doctor who books#simm!master#twelfth doctor#thirteenth doctor#nardole#dw series 10
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Summer 2017 Anime Overview: Rage of Bahamut: Virgin Soul and The Reflection
My classic anime overview posts are making a comeback! I watched 7 different anime in the Summer 2017, so we’ve got a lot to talk about- so much so that I’ll do a couple anime each post rather than just doing one giant post.
I fully believe in saving the best for last, so we’ll rank and review these anime in order from worst to best. Which means we’ll be starting with the anime I found the weakest out of what I watched this season. Rage of Bahamut: Virgin Soul and The Reflection. Are both of them bad anime? Or are they just not quite as a good as the other fare? Let’s dive in and find out!
Rage of Bahamut: Virgin Soul
Yep, this was easily the worst anime I watched this season. Not animation-wise, the art was very nice (though not quite as good as its prequel). But story-wise? WOW. It’s been a while since I’ve seen an anime- or a story period- end that badly.
And unlike a lot of people, I didn’t really come into this anime expecting much. Rage of Bahamut: Genesis, the first season, was a beautifully animated but incredibly shallow adventure romp with a messy ending that managed to be both cliche and nonsensical in how it fridged the main female character. It was fun for the most part, but also eyerollingly trope-y and sloppy storytelling wise, with fairly 2D characters. I came into this season expecting much the same. And for the first half-ish of the anime that was what I got. It certainly wasn’t well written, it was sexist, it was cliched, but it worked okay for what it was, which was a silly swords and sorcery story where you could just turn your brain off and enjoy the eye candy.
There wasn’t much to the characters, but they were pleasant and likable enough. Nina, the lead of the story, was just kinda dragged along by the plot and didn’t have much going on (her main conflict is that when she gets turned on by a dude she turns into a dragon yes i’m serious), but her gung-ho attitude made her fun to watch. There was also an wacky all-lady prison break midway through the show that was kinda awesome.
(I should note though, one of the characters is a very fantastical take on Jeanne D’Arc. And she’s portrayed as someone who sucks at fighting if she doesn’t have the gods on her side because women are weak or whatever I guess! She finds some fulfillment only when a god pulls a Virgin Mary on her and forcibly impregnates her with an angel son. After this, her whole character revolves around her son. I had a lot of problems with that for obvious reasons).
But then. OH BUT THEN. I thought the first season’s denouement and end was messy, but I HADN’T SEEN NOTHIN’. Not only was this ending horrendous, it managed to damage all the characters involved (except for the zombie girl, Rita, who is too cool to be ruined by anything) and even basically damage the first season. If I cared enough to go back and watch that season, this ending would make it a sour experience, basically, just from how thoroughly the plot and characters from that season were mangled by this follow-up. Nothing redeemable was left in its wake.
Basically the whole story was overtaken by one of the most poorly conceived love interests I’ve ever seen. Nina’s beloved, Charioce, was a super sexy dude who had a few tiny flaws, like how he’d, y’know, massacred an entire race and also slaughtered, enslaved and tortured yet ANOTHER race (even putting them in gladiator style death matches for entertainment) and unjustly imprisoned a literal saint of a woman and told her he was only keeping her alive so he could murder her small child in front of her.
But you see guys, he danced with Nina a couple times and is super hot and his mom’s dead which is sad so it’s okay that he did a little genocide, tried to kill all Nina’s friends (one of whom was ten) and threw her in jail. I’m serious. That was the shows logic. Turns out the reason for all this was it was some plan to unseal the dragon a character had been sacrificed to seal for the next hundred years in Genesis. (So he effectively rendered her death totally meaningless). He unsealed it just so he could kill it for good . The only explanation we get for his double dose of genocide was that ONE of the races has a superweapon he needed to kill a dragon. Yep, no explanation given as to why he needed to do kill all those beings or enslave them or put them in death matches or personally torment a woman who did nothing to him, but the show sure treated it like it explained everything and meant we were totally supposed to forgive AND feel sorry for this sexy, sexy tyrant.
(In the end, the genocide and slavery ends up being a footnote: everyone loves Charioce because he killed a dragon, the demons are being payed low wages instead of being enslaved so everything’s fine now, no justice for those who were slaughtered, no consequences for the oppressors, no reparations made, no word on whether the death camps and many other atrocities even stopped happening, nothing.)
Nina being in love with him damaged her irreparably as a character too, even though she was perfectly okay before that- it was just so infuriating that she could set aside all the people he killed and the fact he’d tormented her friends because he was a smexy dancer. I get what they were going for-a kind of starcrossed Disney ~love isn’t rational~ type thing. And “love isn’t rational” is just the laziest writing copout ever, I’m so sick of it.
You can sell a romance where one party has done horrible things and the other one loves them anyway if you have the writing skill. But in order to sell that romance as understandable, you need to make the audience like that character too. The character needs to be actually endearing and interesting in some way.That way when so-and-so is tormented about how she loves him despite the things he’s done, the audience is tormented for the same reason. But there was no reason for Nina to be hopelessly in love with Charioce. Dude had the personality of a wet paper towel- I don’t think he emoted once the entire anime, even when he was on the verge of death. He didn’t offer her any invaluable support or guidance to Nina either. Yet she at one point said she’d choose the ENTIRE WORLD over him if it came down to it. A guy she danced with like twice!
The worst thing about the Nina/Charioce romance is how a bunch of characters were literally sacrificed for it. One of the main characters of the show got himself killed shielding Charioce from those he had wronged, despite the fact Charioce had done absolutely nothing to warrant such devotion and said character didn’t even have a meaningful relationship with him. It was a comically anticlimatic death too, it was out of nowhere, the other characters barely emoted about it with even his supposed best friend basically shrugging it off.
The other person sacrificed solely to add drama to Nina and Charioce’s lurve was Nina’s ten year old friend, who was unceremoniously shanked from behind after being a major character for most of the season. It was so cruel and pointless, I felt sure a magic resurrection was coming for the kid, but nope- he was killed off solely to cause some drama between the good guys and Charioce because the genocide apparently wasn’t enough to make our heroes mad at him. Nina does finally get mad at him, but only for ten minutes, then she and almost everyone else instantly forgave him upon learning he didn’t TECHNICALLY directly kill this one kid.
Even though he HAD been trying to kill the kid ALL SEASON and the bounty he put on this kids head was still pretty much the direct cause of his death. But nah,he didn’t like, specifically tell the killer “hey go murder this small child” , he just heavily implied anyone who did it would get a reward from him, so it’s all fine. Even the kid’s grieving mother and father figure eventually forgave Charioce about this for no apparent reason.
Speaking of pointlessness, the cherry on top of the shit sundae was that the dragon all these characters were sacrificed to kill? The one whose death was supposedly the payoff worth all this genocide and melodrama? It was revealed in the last minute of the story that Charioce DIDN’T EVEN MANAGE TO KILL IT. Rendering the entire mess of a narrative COMPLETELY MOOT.
Seriously, if you want to see how overfocusing on badly written heterosexual romances can destroy an entire narrative, this series is a prime example. If you want to see an example or writers thinking a male character can be forgiven for any atrocity and win the female lead’s heart as long as he’s stoic and sexy and manly about it, this series will show you. This show demonstrates the worst pitfalls of romance narratives- writers seem to think as long as it’s an attractive man and woman getting together, they don’t have to bother with characterization or logic to sell their connection.
it’s a real shame- poor Nina could have been a compelling lead. There was stuff there that could have been developed into something cool had the writers cared at all- she could turn into a dragon, it was mentioned she was looked down on for not being fully dragon, she came from a rural village and was fairly innocent and didn’t know much about the world, her father died tragically- but rather than explore any of that, it was decided because she was a woman, her entire arc should be about her swooning and crying over Bishie McKillsaLot, never mind anything else.
Rage of Bahamut: Virgin Soul could have been a shallow but entertaining show like its predecessor. In the end though, the only thing entertaining about it by the end was how hard it crashed and burned.
The Reflection
The Reflection isn’t quite as bad as it’s reputation in the anime community right now suggests. Which is not to say it’s a good show. It’s not good. But it’s definitely far from the worst anime I’ve see and has a few interesting aspects.
This show is a collaboration between an anime studio and Stan Lee, (who I guess really likes being involved in anime- he’s done this before with Heroman) and it follows a group of superheroes. The basic premise is that three years ago, a strange light and smoke hit people around the world. Some were killed, some gained superpowers. Those who gained powers were called ‘The Reflected”. The world hates and fears them, in true Marvel style. Now a villain named Wraith is kidnapping people for mysterious reasons.
The Reflection is a messy show, which is apparent just from the animation. The colors are very flat and the lines are very thick, which seems to be an attempt to capture the classic comic book feel. But the thing is, old comics chose to have a bright color palette, or at least a highly contrasting one, for good reason. if you do that kind of style with a dark color palette, it ends up looking very muddy. Unfortunately, that’s what The Reflection chose to do. This was especially egregious in the last episode, where having the darkly colored characters against a dark sky made it very hard to tell what was happening. On top of that, the animation was very limited in general.
There’s also a lot a standard superhero stories here that are not given a fresh spin- we have the angsty product of a lab experiment, the shallow, show-offhero who learns superheroing is SRS BUSINESS after his loved ones are killed due to his negligence and most disappointingly, a main villain whose only motivation is that he wants to plunge the world into a vague, generic sort of darkness.
Some stuff is just straight up not explained, which made the finale confusing- we see a flashback that is supposed to make us forgive a character for his actions, but it’s so incoherent and quick it reveals nothing. Nor is the villain really explored in a way that makes sense (save for an extremely on the nose message about “darkness”, which was repeated so often in the episode I got sick of hearing it), his actions are unclear and the whole thing is just generally clunky. It seems like they chose not to explain a lot of stuff (and end on a cliffhanger) in hopes of getting a sequel, but you can leave mysteries and openings for a possible season 2 without being opaque and hard to follow. In fact, a final episode like The Reflection’s is way more likely to turn fans off than leave them wanting more.
However, The Reflection does have a few interesting ideas and good moments. One of the main heroes, Lisa, has a wheelchair that transforms into a giant robot, which is rad as hell and should be included in every superhero narrative from now on. Her personality is also endearing- she’s a determined, fiery, geeky girl who loves comics. Her whole storyline where her father is all protective of her due to her disability and she tells him doesn’t consider her condition tragic and proves she’s actually the one who can protect him is fairly heavy handed , but it’s a very positive narrative, and I’m especially glad to see it in an anime after being burned HARD by the ableism in Yuki Yuna is a Hero. She’s sadly sidelined after her introductory episode (it’s especially strange that her comic book fandom never comes up again), but still remains a good character.
There’s also a character who was blind, except he can see the silhouettes of people who have superpowers and thus pick out when when people are superpowered that way- that’s another good concept and I liked that his wife was the physically strong and imposing one of their partnership, though she didn’t get as much characterization as I’d like (in fact, she pretty much had none outside her relationship with her husband). The episodes revolving around Lisa and this pair were definitely the strongest of the series.
The lead of the story, Eleanor, also had a lot of potential. She had the heart of a hero, but she was desperate for validation and because of that desperation she ended up having an identity crisis where she developed an alternate personality. If her psychology had been explored more, that could have been a really interesting concept- but it wasn’t really explored at all beyond generic “this personality is the darkness within me” so it ended up being more on-the-nose and boring than anything. Still, I appreciated Eleanor’s scrappiness and in the hands of a more competent show, she could have been really great.
The other characters were duds though, unfortunately- the villains were generic and kinda just there. The hero X-On drove a lot of the plot, yet we learned pretty much nothing about him and he had no personality other than being kind of a dick. The magical girl squad was a fun touch and I loved seeing them kick ass and save the day, but they didn’t have distinct personalities from each other or much thematic significance to the story.
Basically, there’s nothing offensive or repellent about The Reflection. I have to give it points for trying something different stylistically from the usual anime fare. It’s a show that could have been good if it had been executed a little better and given more room to breathe. However, it wasn’t, so it ended up being a very clunky, forgettable anime.
#anime overview#summer 2017 anime#shingeki no bahamut: virgin soul for ts#the reflection#rage of bahamut: virgin soul for ts#rage of bahamut
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