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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years

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Half A Heart

Pairing: SHIELD!Reader x Daniel Sousa

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: some self-destructive behavior, vomiting, mild AoS spoilers up through 7x04

a/n: Here’s a Daniel Sousa soulmates AU I thought of at like midnight and wrote in two hours because I swear I cannot get enough of that man. Let me know what you think!

___

Everyone started out with their lives feeling kinda off-kilter. Everything felt just a little bit off, perpetually unbalanced, not quite full, and it all had to do with the heart tattooed on each person’s wrist. Or, rather, a half a heart, as it wasn’t until you met your soulmate that the heart became whole and with it the entire world shifted into place. You were a bit different. You still had the same half a heart as all your friends, but yours was white. Nobody knew what it meant. Normal soulmarks were red, a sign that your soulmate was alive and well and you’d be meeting them any day now. Black soulmarks existed as well, though they were much sadder. A black soulmark meant that your soulmate had died, all accounts said the black mark was a terrible burden to carry. However, there were no records of a white soulmark.

Growing up you believed the white mark was a worse burden to carry, sometimes just wishing the mark would turn black. At least then you’d know your soulmate had actually existed. Instead, you had become certain that you didn’t have a soulmate, destined to walk the earth with only half a heart.

So, you had thrown yourself into your career. You were recruited by SHIELD directly out of high school and you spent four years at the Academy of Operations, training endlessly to be a field agent. Four years of hoping that if you just pushed yourself a little harder you could forget the excitement of your peers who were meeting their soulmates for the first time, forget that you would never know the feeling of “rightness” everyone talked about. It was no surprise when you graduated top of your class.

You were quickly recommended to a team of agents who took on SHIELD’s most dangerous assignments. It wasn’t until a couple missions in that you realized: no one on your team had a soulmate. Each of your teammates had a black mark on their wrists and they explained that SHIELD only assigned people without soulmates to the team. The organization refused to send agents with soulmates on such dangerous missions, it would be cruel. You learned the policy was similar to that of the military up until the 80s when people began petitioning to be able to join the armed forces outside of wartime.

Some might’ve found this practice disheartening and sickening, that SHIELD was willing to send you to your deaths just because you didn’t have your other half waiting for you at home but you took it as a good thing. You convinced yourself that not having a soulmate just made you an even better agent. At least, you tried to convince yourself, but some nights you were kept awake by your longing for your other half.

Nevertheless, you were pissed when you received your transfer notice. The higher-ups had recommended you for a different team, and with or without your approval you were leaving. You’d had half a mind to go sulk in your bunk when you arrived at the giant plane you’d be traveling around the world in but your new teammates hadn’t given you a chance. Coulson - yes Phil Coulson, as in died-for-the-Avengers Phil Coulson - had immediately introduced you to FitzSimmons, who had latched onto you immediately.

The team file had led you to believe FitzSimmons was one person, though you quickly discovered that it was a scientist duo, Leopold Fitz and Jemma Simmons. The two were clearly soulmates. You had known without even seeing their full, red marks. They acted like two halves of a whole and for the first month of traveling with the team you did your best to avoid them as much as possible. You felt bad, but you felt worse trying to ignore the pain in your chest stemming from the damned mark on your own wrist that seemed amplified in their presence.

At the start of your time together Simmons had been fascinated by your mark, though after inconclusive test after inconclusive test she concluded that the white mark was a mystery. Though you still didn’t have an answer, the one-on-one time with Simmons had made you more comfortable around the scientist and you found yourself not minding FitzSimmons’ presence as much.

By the time SHIELD fell the team had become something of a family to you. It wasn’t perfect, but you allowed the love you all shared for each other to fill some of the gaping hole your lack of a soulmate left. You still felt like you were walking around with only one shoe most days, but it felt more bearable.

You had a support system now. You comforted each other through Ward’s betrayal and Fitz’s recovery. You stuck by each other through alien cities and the discovery of Inhumans. You were relentless in rescuing Jemma from Maveth and Daisy from Hive. You were a shoulder to cry on as Daisy’s mark turned from red to black after Lincoln’s sacrifice. Your team had been there to rescue you when you had refused to leave the Framework because at least there you had a soulmate. You’d been to the future together, you’d stopped the end of the world, you’d seen way too much loss and experienced way too much suffering but you were still together, even if some members were gone.

You were so thankful to have your family by your side as you dealt with Sarge and Izel, none of you having properly recovered from Coulson’s death and now having to go head-to-head with a man with his face. It had felt like your most difficult task yet, with Jemma off rescuing Fitz and the Shrike’s presence on earth, but you had made it out unscathed.

Well, mostly unscathed. You had been a bit injured in the battle at the temple, and Jemma had insisted on doing a full-body check-up before clearing you for fieldwork in the 30s. Yes, the 1930s, because apparently it was the perfect time to add “traveling back in time” to your list of absolutely insane things you’ve done since you first stepped on the Bus. That’s when she noticed.

“Uh, y/n?” Jemma spoke, the professional demeanor she normally assumed when performing medical on the team breaking to show her confusion and concern. “When did that happen?”

“When did what happen? Oh...” Your words died in your throat when you looked down to where Jemma was pointing.

The mark on your wrist— the mark that had always been white, the mark who’s mystery you had somewhat made peace with— was now red.

“H-how is that possible?” You were scared. You thought you should probably be thrilled, you had a soulmate after all but instead you were terrified. The fear seeped into your bones and you thought you might puke.

“I have no idea,” Jemma answered honestly before sensing your distress and tacking on, “but, we’ll do some tests and try to get to the bottom of it. We never find out what the white meant, maybe this was always in the cards for you.”

The results of this round of testing felt somehow more confusing than the first. Biologically, nothing about your mark had changed and yet it was undeniably red. Jemma had tried to reassure you both by reminding you that the science of soulmarks was basically nonexistent anyway but it was clear by her panicked expression and your churning stomach that it wasn’t working.

Entirely lost as to what was happening to you, Jemma pulled you from field work. At some point you had wondered if you were missing the chance to meet your soulmate while you were stuck in the med bay but you brushed it off. If you actually had a soulmate, would it even be worth it to meet them only to be ripped away when the Zephyr jumped again? You weren’t sure you could handle that kind of heartbreak, and you had already gone this long with a half a heart.

When you arrived in the 50s you put up no fight when your teammates left the Zephyr without you. You had already made up your mind on the matter. However, fate, it seemed, had a different plan.

You were really just wandering aimlessly around the Zephyr. You’d needed a break from the chaos of the team’s time travel escapades and most of the team was currently fighting off chronicoms in the train below you.

You hadn’t even realized they had returned until you had meandered into the ramp and storage area of the Zephyr and ran smack into a stranger. You thought he might’ve said something, maybe “woah” or “look out” but you couldn’t tell through the sudden pounding in your ears.

Had you had time to think you might’ve remembered him from your freshman year history course at the Academy. But you didn’t have time because as soon as you bumped into the man you felt the undeniable need to vomit and you turned and bolted from the room. You were thankful the bathroom was where it was as you barely made it before you were spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

Then someone was beside you, holding your hair away from your face and rubbing your back soothingly as you puked.

“Thanks, Jemma,” you breathed, your eyes clenched shut as you leaned over the toilet bowl, praying you wouldn’t start puking again. The pounding in your ears was gone but your whole body felt different.

Jemma stiffened at your words and muttered a quick apology as she backed away. Except that was definitely not Jemma’s voice.

Your eyes flew open as you scrambled away from the toilet, pressing your back against the bathroom wall as you stared wildly at the stranger. It seemed your brain had finally caught up with you as you recognized the man as Daniel Sousa, SHIELD agent, former partner of Peggy Carter, and the man your team had been trying to protect from the chronicoms.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You spluttered and Sousa blushed, looking away awkwardly.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stuttered out himself, “You were just…” he gestured to the toilet, “and, well, i t-think we’re…”

“What?”

“Y’know…”

You did not know. You had never felt more confused in your life. This man, who you had never met before had followed you into the bathroom to hold your hair while you threw up, and his words did nothing to explain his strange actions.

Rather than try to explain verbally, he pulled up his jacket and shirt sleeves to reveal his wrist.

“I think we might be…” he nodded down to the full red heart prominently displayed on his inner arm.

As if on instinct, you looked down at your wrist, breath catching in your throat as you started at the matching red heart now tattooed on your skin. Your soulmark was not only red but it was whole. You suddenly realized why you felt so different: your world had finally shifted into place.

“Oh god this has to be the worst possible way to meet your soulmate,” you groaned, slightly shocked that you were able to speak let alone joke when you thought for certain you should be crying after all the hell your soulmark had put you through.

Thankfully Sousa laughed. “I’m just thankful to have finally met you.”

The way he looked at you was so sincere that you swore your heart stopped right there. You stayed that way for a moment, him looking at you like you hung the stars and you wondering when death would greet you because surely it wasn’t possible to go this long without a heartbeat.

Then he cleared his throat.

“I’m Daniel Sousa,” he introduced, reaching out a hand to you which you took gratefully.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduced yourself. “We should probably get off the bathroom floor.”

Daniel laughed again and your heart warmed at the sound. You clambered up to your feet before reaching out a hand to help him up, thankful to your subconscious for remembering that Daniel Sousa was an amputee and probably shouldn’t be plopping on the floor to help vomiting strangers, soulmates or not.

“Um, I need to brush my teeth, or get a mint, or something,” you rambled embarrassedly as you stood in the middle of the bathroom, suddenly very aware that you had just vomited and not only could you taste it but he could probably smell it and oh god.

Daniel graciously let you go and you reassured him that you’d find him when you were done.

___

You had heard others talk about finally feeling “whole” when they met their soulmate but you disagreed. You had always been whole, but now you felt full. The constant ache in your chest (that you honestly hadn’t even realized was abnormal) had suddenly vanished. You felt lighter and you could’ve sworn the world seemed a little brighter.

Technically it had been decades since the two of you had met but it had really only been a few months, though it felt like you had known Daniel your whole life. You supposed in some way you had, you were meant to be two halves of a whole after all. Regardless of timing, after years and years as a SHIELD agent, throwing yourself headfirst into danger at every opportunity you couldn’t imagine something as domestic as this.

The two of you were cuddled up together on the couch of your shared apartment. Saturday night had become movie night, a chance for you to catch your soulmate up on all the media he had missed between the 50s and the present. The end credits of Monsters Inc played in the background as he leaned down to kiss you softly. You melted into the kiss, the feel of his lips on yours the only thing rooting you in reality. This moment, your soulmate, the perpetual feeling of content, was real and it was yours.

#daniel sousa #daniel sousa x reader #SHIELD #SHIELD!Reader #agents of shield #aos #aos fic #daniel sousa fic #soulmates #soulmate au #fitzsimmons #jemma simmons #phil coulson #daisy johnson #aos spoilers #zephyr #time travel

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kiridune · 3 years

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On Hallowed Ground

Sat, Sep. 07, 2002 Miami Herald

By DAVE BARRY (http://davebarry.com/misccol/hallowedground.htm)

On a humid July day in Pennsylvania, hundreds of tourists, as millions have before them, are drifting among the simple gravestones and timeworn monuments of the national cemetery at Gettysburg.

Several thousand soldiers are buried here. A few graves are decorated with flowers, suggesting some of the dead have relatives who still come here. There's a sign at the entrance, reminding people that this is a cemetery. It says: "SILENCE AND RESPECT."

Most of the tourists are being reasonably respectful, for tourists, although many, apparently without noticing, walk on the graves, stand on the bones of the soldiers. Hardly anybody is silent. Perky tour guides are telling well-practiced stories and jokes; parents are yelling at children; children are yelling at each other. A tour group of maybe two dozen teen-agers are paying zero attention to anything but each other, flirting, laughing, wrapped in the happy self-absorbed obliviousness of Teen-agerLand.

A few yards away, gazing somberly toward the teen-agers, is a bust of Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln gave his Gettysburg Address here 139 years ago, when the gentle rolling landscape, now green and manicured, was still raw and battle-scarred, the earth recently soaked with the blood of the 8,000 who died, and the tens of thousands more who were wounded, when two armies, 160,000 men, fought a terrible battle on July 1, 2 and 3 that determined the outcome of the Civil War.

Nobody planned for the battle to happen here. Neither army set out for Gettysburg. But this is where it happened. This is where, out of randomness, out of chance, a thousand variables conspired to bring the two mighty armies together. And so this quiet little town, because it happened to be here, became historic, significant, a symbol, its identity indelibly defined by this one overwhelming event. This is where these soldiers - soldiers from Minnesota, soldiers from Kentucky, soldiers who had never heard of Gettysburg before they came here to die - will lie forever.

This is hallowed ground.

On the same July day, a few hours' drive to the west, near the small Pennsylvania town of Shanksville, Wally Miller, coroner of Somerset County, Pa., walks slowly through the tall grass covering a quiet field, to a place near the edge, just before some woods.

This is the place where, on Sept. 11, 2001, United Airlines Flight 93, scene of a desperate airborne battle pitting passengers and crew against terrorist hijackers, came hurtling out of the sky, turning upside down and slamming into the earth at more than 500 mph.

That horrendous event transformed this quiet field into a smoking, reeking hell, a nightmare landscape of jet fuel, burning plane debris, scattered human remains.

Now, 10 months later, the field is green again. Peaceful and green.

Except where Flight 93 plunged into the ground. That one place is still barren dirt. That one place has not healed.

"Interesting that the grass won't grow right here," says Miller.

Nobody on Flight 93 was heading for Somerset County that day. The 33 passengers and seven crew were heading from Newark, N.J., to San Francisco. The four hijackers had a different destination in mind, probably Washington, D.C., possibly the White House.

Nobody on the plane meant to come here.

"I doubt that any one of them would ever set foot in Somerset County, except maybe to stop at Howard Johnson's on the turnpike," Miller says. "They have no roots here."

But this is where they are. And this is where they will stay.

No bodies were recovered here, at least not as we normally think of bodies. In the cataclysmic violence of the crash, the people on Flight 93 literally disintegrated. Searchers found fragments of bones, small pieces of flesh, a hand. But no bodies.

In the grisly accounting of a jetliner crash, it comes down to pounds: The people on Flight 93 weighed a total of about 7,500 pounds. Miller supervised an intensive effort to gather their remains, some flung hundreds of yards. In the end, just 600 pounds of remains were collected; of these, 250 pounds could be identified by DNA testing and returned to the families of the passengers and crew.

Forty families, wanting to bury their loved ones. Two hundred fifty pounds of identifiable remains.

"There were people who were getting a skull cap and a tooth in the casket," Miller says. "That was their loved ones."

The rest of the remains, the vast majority, will stay here forever, in this ground.

"For all intents and purposes, they're buried here," Miller says. "This is a cemetery."

This is also hallowed ground.

In the Gettysburg Address, Lincoln was essentially trying to answer a question. The question was: How do you honor your heroes? Lincoln's answer was: You can't. No speech you give, no monument you erect, will be worthy of them, of their sacrifice. The best you can do is remember the cause they died for, finish the job they started.

Of course the passengers and crew on Flight 93, when they set out from Newark that morning, had no cause in common. They were people on a plane bound from Newark to San Francisco. Some were going home, some traveling on business, some on vacation.

People on a plane.

Which makes it all the more astonishing, what they did.

You've been on planes. Think how it feels, especially on a morning cross-country flight. You got up early; you're tired; you've been buckled in your seat for a couple of hours, with hours more to go. You're reading, or maybe dozing. You're essentially cargo: There's nowhere you can go, nothing you can do, no role you could possibly play in flying this huge, complex machine. You retreat into your passenger cocoon, passive, trusting your fate to the hands of others, confident that they'll get you down safe, because they always do.

Now imagine what that awful morning was like for the people on Flight 93. Imagine being ripped from your safe little cocoon, discovering that the plane was now controlled by killers, that your life was in their bloody hands. Imagine knowing that there was nobody to help you, except you, and the people, mostly strangers, around you.

Imagine that, and ask yourself: What would you do? Could you do anything? Could you overcome the fear clenching your stomach, the cold, paralyzing terror?

The people on Flight 93 did. With hijackers in control of the plane, with the captain and first officer most likely dead, the people on this plane got on their cell phones, and the plane's Airfones. They reached people on the ground, explained what was happening to them. They expressed their love. They said goodbye.

But they did not give up. As they were saying goodbye, they were gathering information. They learned about the World Trade Center towers. They understood that Flight 93 was on a suicide mission. They figured out what their options were.

Then they organized.

Then they fought back.

In "Among the Heroes," a riveting book about Flight 93, New York Times reporter Jere Longman reports many of the last words spoken to loved ones on the ground by people on the plane. They're not the words of people in shock, people resigned to whatever fate awaits them. They're the words of people planning an attack. Fighters.

Here, for example, are the last words of passenger Honor Elizabeth Wainio to her stepmother: "They're getting ready to break into the cockpit. I have to go. I love you. Goodbye."

Here are flight attendant Sandy Bradshaw's last words to her husband: "We're going to throw water on them and try to take the airplane back over. Phil, everyone's running to first class. I've got to go. Bye."

And of course there are the now-famous words of Todd Beamer, who, after explaining the situation on the plane to an Airfone supervisor in Illinois, turned to somebody near him and said: "You ready? OK, let's roll."

They're getting ready to break into the cockpit.

I've got to go.

Let's roll.

We'll never know exactly what happened next. Some believe that the fighters managed to get into the cockpit, and that, in the ensuing struggle for control, the plane went down. Others believe that the hijackers, trying to knock the fighters off their feet, flew the plane erratically, and in doing so lost control. Inevitably, there is Internet-fueled speculation that the plane was secretly shot down by the U.S. government. (The government denies this.)

But whatever happened, we know two things for sure:

We know that the plane went down before it reached its target - that the hijackers failed to strike a national symbol, a populated area. They failed.

And we know that the people on the plane fought back. On a random day, on a random flight, they found themselves - unwarned, unprepared, unarmed - on the front lines of a vicious new kind of war. And somehow, in the few confusing and terrifying minutes they had, they transformed themselves from people on a plane into soldiers, and they fought back. And that made them heroes, immediately and forever, to a wounded, angry nation, a nation that desperately wanted to fight back.

And now these heroes lie here, in this field where their battle ended. This cemetery. This battlefield. This hallowed ground.

Wally Miller, coroner, has walked this ground hundreds of times. He spent endless hours among those collecting human remains and picking up plane parts. Even now, he walks with his eyes down, looking, looking. Every now and then he reaches down and picks up a tiny piece of plane - a thimble-sized piece of twisted gray metal, a bit of charred plastic, a shard of circuit board, a wire. This is what Flight 93 became: millions of tiny pieces, a vast puzzle that can never be reassembled. Despite the cleanup effort, there are still thousands of plane parts scattered for acres around the crash site, just under the new plant growth, reminders of what happened here.

The site is peaceful; no sound but birds. Miller walks from the bright field into the hemlock woods just beyond the barren spot where Flight 93 slammed into the earth. It's mid-afternoon, but the woods are in permanent dusk, the tall trees allowing only a dim, gloomy light to filter down to the lush green ferns that blanket the ground. The woods look undisturbed, except for bright "X"s painted on the trunks of dozens of hemlocks. The "X"s mark the trees that were scaled by climbers retrieving human remains, flung high and deep into woods by the force of the crash.

Some of the hemlocks, damaged by debris and fire and jet fuel, had to be cut down. These trees were supposed to be trucked away, but Miller, who, as coroner, still controls the crash site, would not allow it. Some of the trees have been ground into mulch; some lie in piles of logs and branches. But they're all still here. Miller won't let them be removed.

"This is a cemetery," he says, again. And he is determined that it will be respected as a cemetery. All of it. Even the trees.

Almost immediately after the battle of Gettysburg, people started coming to see the place where history happened. More than a century later, they're coming still.

Some are pilgrims: For them, Gettysburg is a solemn place, where the suffering and sacrifice of the soldiers still hangs heavy in the air. Some are purely tourists: For them, Gettysburg is another attraction to visit, like the Grand Canyon, or Graceland - famous, but not particularly relevant to their everyday lives. You park, you look, you take a picture, you leave.

I think that most of the visitors to Gettysburg, even today, are some mixture of pilgrim and tourist. But as the battle has receded in time, as the scars of the war have healed, tourism clearly has come to dominate the mixture. Despite the valiant efforts of many to preserve the soul of this place, to explain to the waist-pack hordes why this ground is hallowed, Gettysburg, surrounded by motels and gift shoppes, accessorized by a wax museum and a miniature-golf course, is now much more a tourist attraction than a shrine.

But soldiers are still buried here. And people still come to place flowers on graves. And the sign at the entrance to the cemetery still makes its plea: SILENCE AND RESPECT.

Immediately after Sept. 11, people started coming to see where Flight 93 went down. The site is a little tricky to find, but they found it, and they're coming still, every day, a steady stream of people who want to be near this place. They're not allowed on the site itself, which is fenced off and guarded, so they go to the temporary memorial that has been set up by the side of a two-lane rural road overlooking the crash site, a quarter-mile away.

The memorial - the word seems grandiose, when you see it - is a gravel parking area, two portable toilets, two flagpoles and a fence. The fence was erected to give people a place to hang things. Many visitors leave behind something - a cross, a hat, a medal, a patch, a T-shirt, an angel, a toy airplane, a plaque - symbols, tokens, gifts for the heroes in the ground. There are messages for the heroes, too, thousands of letters, notes, graffiti scrawls, expressing sorrow, and love, and anger, and, most often, gratitude, sometimes in yearbookish prose:

"Thanx 4 everything to the heroes of Flight 93!!"

Visitors read the messages, look at the stuff on the fence, take pictures. But mostly they stare silently across the field, toward the place where Flight 93 went down. They look like people you see at Gettysburg, staring down the sloping field where Pickett's charge was stopped, and the tide of war changed, in a few minutes of unthinkable carnage. There is nothing, really, to see on either field now, but you find it hard to pull your eyes away, knowing, imagining, what happened there.

There will be a permanent memorial for Flight 93. The temporary one is touching in its way, a heartfelt and spontaneous tribute to the heroes. But it's also haphazard, verging on tacky. Everyone agrees that something more dignified is needed. The official wheels are already turning: Congress has begun considering a bill to place the site in federal custody. Eventually land will be acquired; a commission will be appointed; a design will be approved.

Wally Miller frets about the memorial. He worries that, in the push to commemorate this as The Defining Moment In The War Against Terrorism, people will forget that it was also - maybe primarily - a personal tragedy for 40 families. He believes that, whatever is done at the site, there should be a place set aide for the Flight 93 families to grieve in private, away from the public, the tourists, the sightseers, the voyeurs, and what Miller calls "the metal-detector assholes."

Tim Lambert, who owns the woods where many of the remains were found, agrees that the paramount concern has to be the families.

"They are forced to live with this tragedy every day," he says. "The site itself is, for the most part, the final resting place for their loved ones. People need to remember and respect that."

One of the most heartrending quotes in "Among the Heroes" is from Deena Burnett, the widow of Flight 93 passenger Tom Burnett, who is believed to have played an active role in the battle on the plane. Mrs. Burnett is describing what it's like to be the widow of a hero:

"In the beginning, everyone asked, 'Aren't you proud of him? Aren't you happy that he's a hero?' I thought, my goodness, the first thing you have to understand is, I'm just trying to put one foot in front of the other. For my husband to be anyone's hero ... I'd much prefer him to be here with me."

So we need to remember this: The heroes of Flight 93 were people on a plane. Their glory is being paid for, day after day, by grief. Tom Burnett does not belong to the nation. He is, first and foremost, Deena Burnett's husband, and the father of their three daughters. Any effort we make to claim him as ours is an affront to those who loved him, those he loved.

He is not ours.

And yet ...

... and yet he is a hero to us, he and the other people on Flight 93. We want to honor them, just as we want to honor the firefighters, police officers and civilians at the World Trade Center and the Pentagon who risked, and sometimes gave, their lives to try to rescue others. We want to honor them for what they did, and for reminding us that this nation is nowhere near as soft and selfish as we had come to believe.

We want to honor them.

And so in a few years, when grass grows once again over the place where Flight 93 hit the ground, when the "X"s have faded from the hemlocks, there will be a memorial here, an official, permanent memorial to the heroes of Flight 93. It will be dedicated in a somber and dignified ceremony, and people will make speeches. Somebody - bet on it - will quote the Gettysburg Address, the part about giving the last full measure of devotion. The speeches will be moving, but they will also prove Lincoln's point, that the words of the living can add nothing to the deeds of the dead.

Thanx 4 everything to the heroes of Flight 93!!

There will be expressions of condolence to the families, and these, too, will be heartfelt. But they will not take away the grief.

I'd much prefer him to be here with me.

And then the ceremony will end, and the people will go home. And the heroes, the people on the plane, will remain here in the ground of Somerset County.

And years will pass, and more people will come here, and more, people who were not yet born when Flight 93 went down, coming to see this famous place.

Let's hope, for their sake, that the world they live in is less troubled than it is today. Let's hope they've never had to feel anything like the pain of Sept. 11, 2001.

Let's also hope that, when they stand here, they know enough to be silent, to show respect.

Let's hope they understand why this is hallowed ground.

#9/11 #current events #life

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malicerewatchesdoctorwho · 3 years

Text

The Web of Fear - Episode Six

Written by - Mervyn Haisman and Henry Lincoln Director - Douglas Camfield Producer - Peter Bryant

Episode Six

("You gave your word that no one would be harmed." - The Doctor to the Great Intelligence, after threatening to snap Jamie's neck if the Doctor doesn't cooperate.)

Likes

- The Doctor and Anne not even telling Jamie what is going on with the yeti to begin with, because he is with the Colonel and they have no idea who is being controlled.

- The Doctor playing his recorder again. I have no idea why I love it so much, but I do.

- After the Doctor does tell Jamie about having one of the yeti as an ally, just Jamie's "well, that's a great help" once he is told that the Doctor lost track of which one was theirs XD

- Jamie hiding in a box to escape being taken and it working XD I just found it rather nice that someone in this show actually found an effective way of hiding! For once.

- The Doctor using the control box on the yeti and taking the mind control helmet and fiddling with it so it wouldn't work. hahaha, nice.

- The difference between normal Staff Sergeant Arnold and the Great Intelligence model. Seriously, I find that some great acting. No jerky or awkward movements, no great huge differences in personality until he was found out, just a guy suddenly being the bad guy when he was thought to be a good guy the rest of the time. I liked Staff. I thought he was a great character. He didn't deserve what happened to him for getting taken over.

- That the Great Intelligence wasn't actually beaten, just cut off. It leaves him as a bad guy that can come back. And yeah, we all know he does, since he is in Modern Who.

- The Doctor having a mini meltdown for not having things go his way. I have no idea why I like this. He just doesn't get angry or make a fuss about much as Two and he just goes off at the end.

Dislikes

- Evans the coward disobeying orders and running away like the coward he is. The Colonel is right. That's desertion. Does that mean at the end, he gets dishonourably discharged? Please say yes.

- Wow, Travers is a bit of an asshole in this one to Victoria. I don't like it, especially since he's been pretty much nice to everyone so far.

- Uuugh, why is Chorley back? I don't like him either...

- Oh god, I find this hilarious but it's going on the dislikes, because Chorley. Anne getting stuck with him at the end to explain the TARDIS to him. I felt so sorry for her, while also finding the whole thing funny.

Awesome

- Going on the awesome list, because I like the simplicity of it. The pyramid control seat thing the yeti have in their control room, the Great Intelligence has built. I just think it's nice that not everything has to look super awesome to still be effective as a plot device and prop.

- And yes, also going to add the super cute Yeti here again, because look at those claaaws. Why do I find monsters cute? When I was a small kid I wanted one of the dogs from Ghostbusters as a pet, because I thought they were super cute.

- I liked the fade in from one view to another where Anne is staring intently at the Doctor as they sit in silence.

- The end titles no longer has the web! The Great Intelligence was beat and instead of going with the web of the rest of the episodes, it went back to normal. Nice.

Shitty

- That beard is the bane of all life in existence in all universes that are, were or ever will be.

- Chorley's glasses. Seriously, I probably would have liked and/or trusted him a lot more if he hadn't had them on. Welp too bad for him. No trust gained. This says a lot about human nature if anything. Not necessarily that people in glasses look untrustworthy, but that Chorley looks like a completely different, more nice and personable person, without them.

- Oops, I see a zip line for one of the yeti costumes near the end. Which is odd, because they were so good at hiding them otherwise.

In Conclusion

Another great episode, though probably not the best in the serial. Probably my second least favourite, but who's counting :P

Plenty of action at the end after Jamie set the Doctor's yeti on the yeti and Staff. The Doctor getting angry enough to start yelling and fussing that things didn't go his way. Some nice character moments between the Doctor and Jamie and the Doctor and Anne.

I enjoyed most of the characters in this, except for the two obvious ones. Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart was probably at his weakest in this episode, because he didn't really have much to do, but he kept them rallied as best he could for a bunch of civilians under his care, so kudos to him.

Victoria and Travers were way underused for that matter. They're basically just bait here. But I still like them as characters.

Anne was great, though. As was Staff. Poor Staff.

I didn't really have much to say about this one, as I was a bit too busy watching to see how this one ended.

A bit abrupt and with the bad guy getting away, but I still liked it.

Body count - 1. Staff Sergeant Arnold. Poor Staff. He didn't deserve any of this. He was a great guy until he was taken over. Killed by yeti set on him by Jamie. Ouch. But he likely would have died when the Great Intelligence left anyway. RIP Staff.

The Web of Fear as a Whole

Watch this one. Not even kidding, just watch it. It's great from start to finish. Great characters you love and characters you also love to hate. Plenty of action, plenty of character building, lots of side characters you get to know and like or hate.

The plot for the main part is tight. We know about the yeti and Intelligence already from the Abominable Snowmen episodes. So it's like the first true sequel in Doctor Who.

It's basically a base under siege story with the army fighting a monster while stuck in the train system lines of a deserted city. I mean, come on, how awesome is that? Sounds like a sci-fi action movie.

So, yeah, watch this one.

And I just realised my Web of Fear as a Whole segment is basically me pimping this one out. It's that good.

#Classic Doctor Who #doctor who #The Web of Fear #episode six #epic rewatch #Second Doctor #Jamie McCrimmon #victoria waterfield #Yeti #Great Intelligence

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wonderful-writer · 4 years

Text

20 - Doomed

Summary: Despite the risk, Y/n and Bellamy sneak back into Mount Weather with Lincoln’s help, but the group gets split up when Lincoln receives the reaper drug and Y/n is recognized, leaving her with a dangerous and uncertain fate.

Word Count: 2.29k

Based off: 02x10, “Survival of the Fittest” & 02x11, “Coup de Grace”

Feedback is always highly appreciated!

You left almost immediately after the plan was explained, and Lexa gave you clothing to make it look like you were grounders. You ventured out into the woods with the boys, Lincoln with a spear and you and Bellamy empty handed.

Sometime after dawn, Lincoln had killed a deer and used a knife to cut open its belly, confusing you and Bellamy. He stuck his hands inside the opening and spread blood all over his neck and chin, grossing you out a little bit.

“Okay,” Bellamy kneeled down to Lincoln’s height and started going over the plan again. “So we make it to the intake door without any of the real reapers seeing us. What happens then?”

“I kill everyone, you two slip inside. Limestone.”

You pulled the small pouch from your waistband and handed it to the man, who stuck his fingers in it and left 3 white lines on his face. “Let’s go. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before dark.”

As you walked, you reminded the pair that you needed to know what happened after the intake door, seeing as no one actually knew, not even you did.

“They’ll remove your clothes.” Lincoln explained. “Blast you with boiling hot water and douse you with something that burns even worse. From there we were sorted. The others were tagged harvest, I was tagged Cerberus, turned into a reaper.”

“Cerberus, 3 headed dog that guards the underworld.” You and Lincoln looked curiously towards Bellamy. “My mom read Mythology to us all the time. Octavia loved it.”

You continued in silence for just a few more paces, then Bellamy spoke again. “You’re good for her. You made her strong.”

“She was already strong.” Lincoln noted.

“Hey, I need to ask you something.” Bellamy stopped walking. “You protected my sister before you even knew her. Why?”

Lincoln looked around before fully facing Bellamy. “When I was a boy, I saw a ship fall from the sky. Like Ravens.The man inside was hurt, his body broken. I couldn’t get him out.”

“Suicide by Earth.” You said. “My- I heard about it when I was younger; I didn’t know they were true.”

“I brought him food, water.” Lincoln continued. “I didn’t speak the enemy’s language yet, so I couldn’t understand him, but I wanted to. On the third day, I told my father. He made me kill him. The world has been trying to turn me into a monster for as long as I can remember. Let’s keep moving.”

The group atmosphere had dampened at Lincoln’s retelling. He continued on but Bellamy stopped him again.

“The parking garage where we found you; it’s north. That way.” He pointed to his left.

“There’s a mine entrance closer to where the reapers hand us over.” Lincoln said. “We’ll go into the underworld when we have to, not before.”

You followed and quickly closed the small distance between yourself and Lincoln. You made it most of the way there until Lincoln stopped to fashion restraints for you, giving Bellamy time to pull out Clarke’s map and look it over. He glanced up at the mountain before turning back to you and Lincoln.

“The mountain has many eyes between here and the tunnels.” Lincoln said as he shaved down a thick branch. “From now on, details must be exact.”

“What if we run into real reapers?” Bellamy questioned. “Won’t they wonder where you’ve been?”

“All they see is red. Once you take it, nothing else matters. Just how you’ll get more.” Lincoln assured you.

“How much do you remember from when you were on it?” You asked lightly.

“Everything.”

His tone sent a shiver down your spine. He instructed Bellamy to turn around and Lincoln took one of the shaved logs and put it on his neck, placing Bellamy’s hands on each side and tying them up.

Once he was done with Bellamy he did the same to you, leading you towards the tunnels with chains. On the way to the mines, light rain started falling and fog covered the sky from your view, but you still made it.

Lincoln stopped at the entrance, hesitant. Bellamy encouraged him, and with a shake, he entered the dark tunnel and soon you were engulfed in blackness, walking down a tunnel that you couldn’t see your own feet in.

However, after a little bit, lights lined the tunnel walls, guiding you and the two men down to the intake door. Lincoln stopped and you asked why, following his line of sight to an almost empty vial on the floor. He stepped on it with hatred, crushing the glass under his boot.

“You okay?” Bellamy asked.

Lincoln took a deep breath and moved a bit closer. “As soon as the intake doors open, we attack. Do not let it close. Once they’re all dead, you go in. I’ll make it look like you escaped. Once you’re inside--”

“We know.” You assured your friend. There was distant shouting and firelight heading your way, Lincoln telling you it was a raider party. He hastily pulled off your ropes, telling you the only way was to go back.

“Go back? No way.” You protested.

“There’s 3, maybe 4. We can fight our way through.” Lincoln said hurriedly as he removed all ropes from your body and moved to Bellamy.

“We’ll never get a better chance than this.” Bellamy pleaded.

“I thought I could do this, but I can’t.” Lincoln admitted. “It’s over.”

“No, it’s not.” Bellamy refused to go back. “We can join them. Listen to me. When they bring out the red, you grab it, and you run like hell. The reapers will go nuts, the grounders will run, and the mountain men will have to deal with it. No one will be looking for grounders running into the mountain.”

With that, Lincoln ripped the log off of Bellamy and Bellamy shoved him, whispering to fight back, making it look like an escape attempt. He looked over at you and you attempted attacking him, too, but he grabbed you and pinned you to the floor with his knee as he pulled his knife and forced Bellamy to his knees.

“These two tried to wander off.” He told one of the reapers. After a bit more conversation, he brought you both up and brought you both to the large log that the other two were carrying.

A blindfold was placed over your eyes and your hands were tied over the log. Your breathing picked up but you tried to contain it, realizing how screwed you were now.

They blindly led you down the path and stripped you of almost all your clothes, leaving you in your bra and underwear. You were sweaty from the journey and layers, but the cold air wasn’t welcoming and you were starting to freeze.

They shoved you onto your knees and pulled off your blindfold. The light leaked into your eyes and you blinked to adjust to it, seeing Bellamy beside you and Lincoln standing near you. The door to your right opened and people in hazmat suits entered, playing that high pitched sound that you heard when you escaped.

You kept your head down, but you knew things were going badly when you heard Dr. Tsing’s voice. “Harvest.”

“Look up at me.” She demanded. Your heartbeat was out of control, you started to shake and she demanded you look up again. When you didn’t do so, a gun was pressed to your back. Even more frightened, you looked up, meeting Dr. Tsing’s eyes.

A smirk formed on her lips. “I didn’t think you would be stupid enough to come back, Y/n. Exodus.”

The word left her mouth with an unusually happy tone, causing you to fear what was next. The rest were made for harvest and you hated that you pushed to go in with Bellamy. Everything was going all wrong and there was a strong chance that you weren’t making it out of the mountain again.

“Harvest everyone except for the girl. She gets put with the other two.” Everyone was dragged to their feet except Bellamy. He tried to resist, but it was no use. They smacked him with the butt of their gun and dragged him inside.

What came next was horrible in every way. First, they put a collar around your neck, hands, and ankles to keep you from attacking or running, and then the water comes. It’s just as bad as Lincoln said, if not worse.

Your screams, along with everyone else's, filled your ears when they slapped you with powder that made your skin crawl and felt like it was burning. They washed it off of you and examined inside your mouth, forcing a metal tube into it and shoving a pill down your throat. You almost threw up at that alone. They scrubbed you down in burning water, the screams from everyone else making your ears ring.

And then you passed out.

You woke up to someone poking the bottom of your foot. As you became more aware, you felt how uncomfortable the position you were in was. With squinted eyes, you sat up and put your knees to your chest.

“Y/n, Y/n,” Someone was quietly calling out to you. You blinked and adjusted your eyes, getting a look at your surroundings. You were in another yellow hospital gown, shoved in a cage on the ground.

It was a little dark, but it looked like the harvest room. Except it wasn’t. The cages were empty and there was a wall where the drop would be. You looked over to your right, meeting Monty’s eyes.

“Monty? What are you doing here?” He panicked and used his hands to tell you to lower your voice, leaning closer to the barrier between you.

“They took me. I stopped Mount Weather from jamming us. How are you here?”

“We got your message. Bellamy and I we-- we volunteered to come back and take down the acid fog. Things went wrong and now I’m here and he’s not.”

“Is he..?” You caught on to what Monty was implying.

“Oh, no. Not that I last saw. He’s still alive, I know that.” You assured the boy.

You looked up and saw a sleeping Harper above Monty. “What the hell are they doing to us?”

Right after you asked that question, Dr. Tsing came into the room with someone, who woke Harper up and dragged her to the bed near the cages.

They cut into her leg and she gasped, begging for them to not do it again. They ignored her.

“Please stop. She’s too weak.” Monty pleaded as Tsing’s assistant handed her a drill.

“Hey. Hey, stop!” You shouted as she turned it on. Monty pleaded with you, shaking the cage as she lowered the drill. Right before it touched Harper, Dante burst into the room.

“Jasper!” Monty shouted and Jasper made a beeline for him.

“Jasper?” You asked, sticking your fingers through the cage. He looked at you and almost started to cry.

The guards released you and Monty and Jasper helped you out, bringing you into his and Monty’s hug. You ignored Dr. Tsing and her complaints about the ground, remembering that Bellamy was still here somewhere.

“Go back to the dorm and tell your friends to pack their things. You’re going home.” Dante told you. Jasper thanked him and Dante left to find his son, while you helped Jasper take Monty back to the dorm.

“How did you get here?” Jasper whispered as you got on the elevator.

“Not here. I’ll explain later.”

Once you were back in the dorm, you gathered everyone around you and told them everything, after Fox gave you a change of clothes.. “Listen up. There’s a lot of confusion going around about how I’m back, but there’s no time for me to answer it right now. But we’re getting out of here; so pack your stuff.”

“Wait, they’re just letting us go?” Miller asked.

“Yeah. Right now, before they change their minds.” Jasper answered.

“What the hell is going on?” Fox asked.

“They’ve been lying to you the whole time, about everything.” You answered.

“The ark is on the ground, and we’re not safe here.” Monty told the delinquents. “Do what she says.”

Everyone picked up the pace and began to pack up their things, ready to get out of this horrible mountain. You looked at Jasper and he looked at you, giving you a little smile. Everyone was almost done packing when the doors sealed themselves shut and alarms went off.

You ran towards one of the doors and Jasper went to the other, spotting Maya standing at the end of the hall. When you looked again, your eyes met Bellamy’s, and although you were relieved he was alive, you knew him being out there wasn’t good.

The hope that radiated off of the teenagers around you was now rapidly dwindling, and you decided you might as well tell Jasper what was going on.

“Listen to me, Jasp.” You sat next to him on the bed and talked as quietly as possible. “The guard with Maya, that was Bellamy. We snuck into the mountain together. We almost made it, but they recognized me and stuck me with Harper and Monty.”

“They’re coming. Us and the grounders have an alliance, they’re gonna help get everyone out of here. Bellamy is working on taking down the acid fog, then they’re going to get us out of here. But we need to help them as much as we can.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” You confessed.

All you could do now was wait with the rest of the 46-- now 47-- teenagers and pray that you make it out alive.

#bellamy blake #bellamy blake imagine #bellamy blake series #bellamy blake x reader #bellamy blake x you #bellamy blake x y/n #this is war series #the 100 rewrite

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bellamygateoldblog · 4 years

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how do we feel about bellamy abandoning a suicidal octavia in a toxic forest in the name of monty, 'monty gave his life for us so we could have another change, and im not going to let you destroy it' who repeatedly made it clear in his final season that he wished he did more to save jasper

…we don’t feel great about it. Lol.

Got a little carried away. Apparently I had a stronger opinion on this on this than I thought I did.

There’s an LT;DR at the bottom if you don’t feel like reading the whole thing :)

The Blake relationship is a really complicated one. And I think how you see this event in particular depends on how you interpret this dynamic during the rest of the show, and how sympathetic you are towards Octavia as a character.

I want to start with this: the second chance was Monty’s to give, and only Monty’s. Bellamy doesn’t get to dictate who that message does and does not apply to, because Monty made it perfectly clear he holds no grudges, and wants the best for what’s left of the human race regardless of who they’ve been in the past or what they’ve done. That’s the whole point of ‘doing better’. He just wants everyone to do better than they did, whichever way that is. Monty didn’t specifically say ‘oh but not Octavia she can choke’ so therefore Bellamy had no right to be cowering behind Monty’s words.

He’s telling them to try a bit harder to be more understanding, compassionate, and rational. He wants them to choose to be farmers rather than warriors- to rebuild rather than destroy, to grow rather than deforest, to choose peace over war no matter what. It means a lot more than just ‘hey! maybe don’t go on another genocidal rampage?’

And by abandoning/banishing Octavia, Bellamy did the opposite of what Monty wanted. It almost felt, as i was watching, like he’d sentenced her to death. Like Clarke was banishing Murphy all over again. Or like he was Clarke abandoning him to die in the fighting pits. And I don’t know…repeating old mistakes doesn’t exactly scream ‘doing better’ to me.

Maybe this was Bellamy’s way of ridding the toxicity from the group?

But deciding she’s a lost cause and leaving her there, a clearly mentally unstable woman (and not only just some ‘woman’, but the baby sister he’s shared his life with), on an alien planet that none of them even know is safe at this point, or if it’s inhabited with hostile entities, from some moral high horse/manpainTM point of view is so low. It’s unearned at this point in the series.

Our attention was drawn to how hard it was for him. How upset he was after he did it. Rather than to Octavia and how she felt about it. It brought me back to that moment in season five, to how the camera focused in on Clarke’s pained teary-eyed expression while the child she was electrocuting was a blurry spot the background. Just what the fuck? Is all i have to say about that. He was very much Clarke in this moment; pulling a lever, leaving someone he loves on the outside *for the people* and feeling a bit ashamed but justified about it regardless.

She was trying to do the S1 Bellamy thing and stowaway to an alien planet to protect the one she loved. But the emotional fallout of season five was immense and both of them were way too amped up for any of it to go as planned. Which makes me wonder why the writers even attempted it in the first place?

But let’s just take a minute to think about how reckless and borderline insane this whole decision is from Bellamy- this is the girl who started out an illegal child, unwanted by the people she was born into, who assimilated with the indigenous people, earned their respect, found belonging with them until ultimately she became their leader. Like, if you really thought she was this much of a hazard, throwing her adaptive ass into the wilderness ready to meet another set of warrior people maybe isn’t the best idea you’ve ever had?

HOWEVER

I’m not actually opposed to a detail like this. Because of the unhealthy and sometimes poisonous nature of the Blake sibling relationship. And because they both absolutely needed time apart if Octavia were ever to grow out of Blodreina.

No matter what Monty never gave up on Jasper. But Jasper was usually self-destructive and didn’t act out emotionally using violence like how Octavia does so naturally. He could be a pain in Monty’s ass from time-to-time, but Jasper was never a threat to anyone but himself.

Bellamy cast Octavia out because she killed those guards unnecessarily. She hadn’t yet reflected on what became of her, nor had she processed any of the trauma from the bunker and following battle for Eden, in which some of the heaviest casualties were her most important relationships, with Indra, and with Bellamy. As convinient as it was to utilise violence as a tool for maintaining power, law, and order within the bunker…they aren’t in the bunker anymore, and she is no longer someone with a crushing responsibility.

Was any of that Bellamy’s fault? No.

Was it Bellamy’s job to ‘fix’ her? No.

(Do I think Monty would encourage him to mend their relationship anyway after losing his best friend and brother? Yes.)

But as her big brother and psudo-father, someone that spent his entire life protecting and taking care of her, the bare minimum i’d expect from him in a situation like this is for him to show some empathy, listen to the whole story from her point of view rather than basing his entire livelyhood on the biased accounts of a couple of Wonkru defectors, and make an attempt to understand why she is no longer the baby sister he remembers her being. If anyone was in the position to understand her- her behaviour, her mindset, the weight of leadership and how it shapes a person, and the pressure of making potentially morally corrupt decisions to ensure the people’s safety putting your humanity on the line for it- it’s him.

This was just cheap drama in place of where they could’ve written a meaningful conflict between them.

It was an oppurtunity to address Octavia’s past treatment of him, their co-dependence, their mother, Bellamy deeply believing his life was stolen from him and Octavia feeling she never had a chance to begin with, Bellamy’s inclination to make himself smaller so Octavia can take up as much space as she possibly can, both of their perverse insecurities that manifest in equally debilitating ways, Bellamy’s skewed sense of self pushing him to orbit around her, Octavia’s identity issues and lack of socialisation and resulting narrow black-or-white mindset, I could go on and on. There’s so so much content here to explore. There’s so much stress and pain in this relationship. It’s a shame that despite all that they decided to go omg cannibalism!!!!!!!!

Octavia took forever to forgive Bellamy for what happened to Lincoln, she demonised him, she attacked him over it in one of the most grotesque and unhinged displays of violence i’ve ever seen, and that wasn’t even his fault. I think we can afford Bellamy the same amount of room.

If this ‘banishment’ was the long-time-coming storm of past trauma of their intertwined existences that has long since been buried, if the time of physical peace spent on the ring building a family of his own pushed Bellamy to make a realisation or two about love and family, and the stressful draining qualities of his relationship with Octavia began to morph into resentment of her, and all this abandonment is, is just a beautifully crafted, carefully maintained facade collapsing between them, I WOULD LOVE IT. It’s understandable. But I need to see them have it out with each other first. If nothing is addressed, if they still go on carrying those things around and never find closure, not only is that hindering Octavia’s growth, but Bellamy’s, too.

But none of that happened in season six. Instead i got to see yet another female with her autonomy ripped from her and i got to see manpain.

Over time she supressed any parts of herself that would make her appear weak. It was always going to take time to pull herself out of that dark place and find a way to shape an identity that isn’t based in something that can easily be ripped away from her. So removing her from the group to find ‘the self’ is a good choice. But it had to be her choice.

I think if everything had blown up and Octavia had chosen to leave on her own volition because she recognises her own tragedy and calamity and wants to do what’s right, it would’ve been the perfect place to begin a redemption/reflection arc for her. With self-awareness. What do they say? The first step to fixing a problem is admitting you have one in the first place?

In an answer to another ask I said it would make some sense for Bellamy (and Clarke & Spacekru) to be unintentionally hypocritcal and judgemental considering the time distance between their last violent experience and how long they’ve had to make peace with the past. While Octavia was in the most stressful position she’s ever been in, and right in the thick of things for the six years that everyone else spent healing and maturing in.

So we have Bellamy as his most reassurred, most contented self- and he comes to Earth, he comes face-to-face with an unhinged Octavia, and is overwhelmed immediately with biased and incomplete information recapping the last six years during an erratic situation with enemies. I’d be confused and paranoid, too tf?

Bellamy loves Octavia more than life. But she’s morphed into a woman he no longer recognises and it could even come as a personal betrayal to him. He’s been disconnected from her for six years. He’s no longer intoxicated by his love and devotion to her. And he’s having a hard time accepting that the baby sister he thinks the world of is capable of such cruelty. So he’s having trouble forgiving her for it. I think it makes a lot of sense. Except, again, they never addressed anything like this.

Season five Bellamy I get. I’m sympathetic to him just as I am Octavia.

But in season six he appeared, not like he was acting on years of supressed emotional turmoil, but like he was on some moral high horse looking down on her from it.

The end of season five left things open, and there was a lot of potential there for things between them to improve, but season six took it and threw it out the nearest window. And we saw Octavia crawling on her hands and knees begging for forgiveness from a man that 1) doesn’t want her, 2) doesn’t respect her, 3) refused to listen to her, and 4) only accepted her once she was the woman he wanted her to be, who was now no longer traumatised.

TL;DR: I’m not opposed to the whole idea of them seperating in season six, with Octavia being the castaway, but it should’ve been Octavia’s choice, not Bellamy’s. And I think Monty might be disappointed that this was what (season six) Bellamy took away from his video on ‘doing better’. To ‘do better’ he decided to choose just one person that can represent all the evil that exists within both his people and himself and throw her out the dropship door. Problem solved! But there are many ways in which I think the writers could’ve done a lot more with this idea, and a lot better, too.

#hopefully this i objective I tried to make it so #the 100 #octavia blake #pro octavia blake #bellamy blake #rosie tag: share with the group #took me a couple days to answer so i hope whoever sent it will see

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spiltscribbles · 5 years

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Pearly White Lincoln

She’s fierce.

Steven Hyde has always known that much about Jackie Burkhart, even before she began dating one of his best friends. Back when she was just a doe eyed, cheerleading, force of nature and glamor. Back when she was the first underclassmen to win the illustrious title of homecoming queen, and would sashay down the halls with an impenetrable air of arrogance mixed with a superiority complex a mile wide. Too pretty for her own good and too smart to give a damn. Acting like for all the world, this dingy ass, rundown town owed her. That if nothing else, Point Place needs to pay it’s dues for holding her back from which ever dream she has for that week, with all it’s trappings of mediocrity.

The worst part of it is that she might not be totally off base.

She’s the only Freshman that any of the senior guys look at with a twinkle in their eyes, the only one with a shrill enough voice to make’m cower in submission. She’s loud, and abrasive, and does this thing where she wrinkles her upturned nose right before ripping to shreds anyone who she deems worthy of her ninety pound, label whoring wrath of fury.

He hates her purely on the principle of the thing.

Teenage dirtbags and prom queens to be don’t mix, that’s just logic. Just like it’s logic that cars aren’t supposed to ride on water, or that anything Mrs. Forman bakes is bound to be fantastic. And it’s only logic that he starts to resent the pint-sized beauty queen for getting her perfectly manicured claws into his oldest friend right around the same time his other best friend is finally trying to make a move on the only girl Hyde has ever loved in any kind of way, and right when Edna makes her monthly topple off the wagon.

It’s only logic that he, Steven Hyde, hates everything Jackie Burkhart has ever had to offer.

Hyde’s defected.

He’s sure of it, there’s something wrong in his DNA or some shit. Something that prevents him from conjuring up the appropriate feelings corresponding towards the right people. That’s why he can’t find it in himself to hate Edna— the only one of his parents who actually bothered enough to stay, even when she’s smacking him upside the head after losing her lot in that night’s poker match, or however many times she loves to remind Hyde that he’s the sole purpose why her all too promising career as a performer at the Barnett Water Show met it’s bitter end. It’s almost like a pastime for her— telling Hyde that he’s a mistake, in every sense of the word. He’s the worst version of a kid that any parent would ever want. It’s why Bud left before Hyde hit puberty. Why she resents him for it. Why she’ll never forgive him for fettering her to the ugly underbelly of a small town existence. Forcing her to be a drunkard, single parent barely holding onto the vestiges of youth she still has left.

On those nights, when Edna would get so plastered that she couldn’t stand straight, that she’d start singing some sappy ballad about time lost and scorning all her ex lovers, were the nights Hyde hated the most. More than the hitting or teasing. It was those nights that solidified the fact in his mind that he’s really not worth a damn, and he should stop pretending as much. He’ll be blessed if he doesn’t end up in prison, or knocking up a chick before he’s graduated high school.

But whatever, Hyde’s a mistake. A dirtbag. An insignificant piece of shit on someone’s shoe. He knows that. He’s over giving a damn about his inevitable fate, he’s excepted as much after living the truth of it for going on seventeen years.

In fact, Hyde doesn’t care about anything.

not a damn thing.

Nothing.

Well excluding the hand full of pot heads he’s somehow grown an unwavering loyalty towards, and attachment with. A cluster of mismatched individuals who’s friendship was manufactured from a shared unconformity, and solidified by a decade of spending every god damn day in each other’s orbits.

Hyde thinks they’re the closest thing he’s ever known to a family, and he hates the idea of altering that dynamic.

So one night, early in their junior year, , when he knows that Forman’s gonna give big red his class ring, he tells Donna he cares for her, that he knows she cares for him too. Because Hyde knows it in his bones that the gang could deal with them being on again, off again. They’re a casual match, he and Donna. More alike than not, with a shared cynicism towards how the establishment’s keeping them down. Nothing particularly remarkable, or amazing in their union. They’d never be the sort to have their names written in the skies, or flourish into some sort of ridiculous caricature of the Little House On The Prairie . But Hyde thinks that they’d be decent to one another. That it’s all kinds of fun when he kisses Donna. He knows that he won’t ever blame her when she eventually move to Madison for college, and then to like Prague or some shit, following her dreams. Hyde and Donna wouldn’t be much of anything after all, so it wouldn’t be a big deal.

But her and Forman?

Eric and Donna are this generations Romeo and Juliette waiting to happen. Both way to lost on each other— trading heart eyes and dopey grins like it’s an olympic sport. THey’d never be able to keep their feelings safely tucked away behind tinted shades, and an aloof exterior. And when they inevitably have their heartbreaking breakup, it’d demolish everything that Hyde has built for himself with this crew of dumbasses. A relationship sealed by brimstone and sheer force of will. The only relationship he’s ever allowed himself to care for with any other person. One that’d probably hurt like hell losing.

So no, he can’t let Forman admit his precious little feelings to the busty, girl next door. And if he has to get in the way, so be it. It’s not a big deal, it’s not like Hyde doesn’t like Donna? That’d be insane! Even if she wasn’t totally smoking.

Hyde likes the way the light catches in her pretty, ginger hair. Likes that she’s not dandy when it comes to her opinion, or playing a round of ball. He likes just about everything that has to do with Donna. And fuck off if he doesn’t get it when Forman talks about feeling queasy in his stomach when around her, like some girlie ass butterflies were swarming down there. Or that his palms don’t get sweaty, like how Kelso’s do whenever he’s with Jackie. They probably only do that because she’s berating him about being an idiot for something or the other, or Kelso’s feeling guilty over something stupid like losing one of her pretty, pink unicorns.

That shit’s unnecessary. At least he likes her as a person, which is way more than any of Edna’s trashy fuck boys could ever say about whatever chick they’re nailing. They’ve told Hyde time and time again that the only important quality in a broad is whether or not she can give’m a stiffy.

Screw that, at least Hyde respects Donna as an actual person.

That respect is why once he finds out later that night that they’re finally together— subsequent to a sobered up Donna and Eric finally growing a pair to ask her to be his girl— Hyde’s happy for them. Even if it’s their own funeral they’re paving the path towards.

He tells Eric as much, with the only caveat that he’s not gonna let them fuck up the group. Warns him that he’s not taking any of their dumbass sides if they break up.

Eric just laughs, cause he’s never known what it’s like to have the ground slipped right from under you. And Hyde just smiles, because he’d never want Forman, his brother in all but blood, to experience that kind of hurt.

Hyde reckons he’s a hypocrite, or maybe just too dumb to heath his own warnings.

But here he is, on the night of prom, renting a suit because he’s begrudgingly agree to escort none other than the epitome of prep herself, Jackie freaking Burkhart, to his junior prom. And all because his dumbass of a best friend cheated on her by pawing at Pam Macy in public, and Jackie sobbed until Hyde lost his resolve.

Fucking hell, he’s going weak.

The doorbell rings, and Hyde ignores the cursed taunting by his ma to answer, swiftly picking up the corsage he’d bought her on his way.

What Hyde doesn’t expect is opening the door and promptly having the breath snatched right from his longs.

“Wow… You look beautiful.”

She beams up at him, light curls framing her pretty face, and sugarplum pink dress making the green in her chestnut eyes flare with an unbridled amount of mirth.

Hyde doesn’t know why his heart thuds at the sight, or why he suddenly has no words for this girl who he’s always figured was the living embodiment of everyone that’s ever told him he’s not worth a damn.

“So do you.”

Hyde barely registers himself handing her the corsage, or leading her away from Edna’s uncharitable ribbing.

Someone like her belongs in-between the leather bindings of a fairytale book, and definitely not somewhere like here, in the dark recesses of society. Not where Hyde has created his own little corner of the galaxy.

It’s no surprise when the pretty cheerleader ends the night in the arms of her moronic ex-boyfriend, and Hyde finishes off in between the legs of the girl who broke them up in the first place.

Nor is it really a surprise when Kelso’s incessant cheating catches up to him, finally blowing up in his face, and making him lose at least one of the girl’s he’s been juggling.

What is a surprise is that he gives up on Jackie so easily, opting to prance around with the she-devil herself. Especially after months of bitching about how much he loves Burkhart.

Another surprise is how much fun it is taking Jackie under his wing, teaching her the art of zen, and even getting to watch a totally sexy cat fight with her and Laurie. Which is never not a good sight— especially considering how Jackie totally beat her ass.

So that’s it. Hyde thinks of Jackie as just another— if not a occasionally vapid— friend. Prom night was just a fluke, and sure she’s hot. But hell, so is Donna, and even Laurie, you know, in her own special, hellish kind of way.

Jackie’s just that. A hot chick who he can chill with. Ya know, when she’s not running her trap.

Everything’s cool. Hyde’s just as aloof and untethered as always.

Jackie thinks she’s in love with him, and Hyde’s convinced she’s finally gone off her rocker.

But to be fair, Hyde reasons that so has he , considering the fact he’s taken her side in every Kelso induced argument, went to jail— leading him to get kicked out of the only home he’s ever felt welcomed in— over her bag of pot, and then punched some idiotic prick for actually calling her a bitch.

No, never mind. Hyde’s sure of it. He’s medically insane, and that’’s why he cuts out of the Forman’’s Veteran’s Day barbecue early, to take Jackie out on a stupid date.

The worst part of the whole ordeal is that it’s not the worst date he’s ever been on— by a long shot. He’d probably deny it till his dying day, but Jackie’s funny in her own quirky way. He likes hearing her talk passionately about crap that really has no importance outside of her shiny, Versace veneered bubble. He likes that she looks at him like he’s not some injured, little fuck up. Like she’s happy to be here, sitting besides him. She’s not slumming it, she genuinely wants to give them, give him, a fair shot. And that’s pretty cool… Really cool if he’s being honest.

By the end of the date, they actually share a smile, something warm, something like nothing’s Hyde’s ever felt with a chick before.

Their eyes are still boring into each other when he ducks down, and she inclines her head forwards.

Hyde kisses the homecoming queen atop her daddy’s pearly white Lincoln, and it doesn’t feel like the end of the world as he knows it.

She tastes like lilac skies, and the gumdrop cookies Edna use to make while singing Sinatra on her especially good days, and like something quintessentially Jackie. . It’s a kiss just on this edge of amazing, and Hyde hates that he might have to admit that she’s actually been right all along.

But then she pulls away. Tells’m that there’s no spark.

“Nothing?”

She shakes her head no, before he’s forced to agree. Because fuck, what’d he think? That this is some sort of chick-flick. That the pampered, pretty girl would ever really choose the lowly, orphan boy in real life?

What a fucking joke.

He hops off the lid, and opens the door for her.

They grab a couple burgers and fries and talk like his tongue wasn’t down her throat only half an hour prior, and it’s fine. It’s good.

He’s never let his feelings for anyone cloud his judgment before, he won’t start now.

Months later, after she puts the final nail in the ever tumultuous coffin that was her relationship with Michael Kelso, they kind of fall into one another.

They spend the summer leading to his senior year kissing behind every shadowed corner, and tucked away crevasse.

She tells him it means nothing, and Hyde tells her the same. Because it doesn’t. Because whatever he might’ve felt for Jackie was efficiently scuffed away by the heal of her red bottom shoes months prior, and what they’re doing now is just all heat, and lust, and mostly to do with the boredom of the summer getting to them.

That’s what Hyde tells himself at least.

“Oh my God! I win!” Jackie crows, leaping off her seat and shaking around in a risible excuse for dancing.

Hyde loses all interest in the chessboard, nodding approvingly at the way she moves in her tiny shorts and spaghetti top before she smacks him playfully.

“Hey man! I’m just appreciating the consolation prize!”

“Uncouth pig.” She rolls her eyes at him before flopping back in her powder pink duvet, long soft hair fanning around her like a dark halo.

“You wanna stay over tonight?” Hyde thinks she’s trying to ask as casually as possible, but he can see the hope in the quirk of her brow.

“Naw, man Forman had to tell his parents that I wasn’t at breakfast this morning cause I was at the library. I didn’t even know this town had a library!” He kind of feels his heart constrict at her disappointment. “You know Red’d freak if he found out I was spending the nights here, probably assume shit.”

“Yeah, true.” She pouts, averting her gaze. “You better get going then before Red starts to flip.”

“Right… So your ma still isn’t back, huh?”

Hyde would like to pretend that he doesn’t shrink back at the sudden flash of rage in her eyes.

“No Steven! I told you! She’s still working on her tan in Mexico.” Jackie sits up, crossing her arms defensively. “We Burkhart women have a reputation to uphold! If we’re not the epitome of beauty, what’ll people like Donna have to live up to!” Hyde idly wonders how she’s become such a pro of diversion. “It’s really a hard job Steven, we constantly have to be on our A game, or else the whole pyramid of beauty standards crumbles!”

“Ah huh…?”

Her lips pinch, brows scrunched together with no small amount of frustration.

“Look just take your surly attitude and get going, will you? I have a Tiger Beat to read.”

“Jackie I’m not gonna leave you alone here. Now c’mon, tell me what the hell’s actually going on! Your mom’s been working on her tan for the last month!”

“Steven, it’s real hard to get the perfect golden brown—“

“Jackie!”

“What!”

“Is your mom even coming back home?”

The stutter in her answer right then is enough of a tell for Hyde to demand she packs an overnight bag. “You’re staying the night with me at the Forman’s.”

She doesn’t move, stance rigid, and set jaw.

“I don’t need to stay with you Steven. I’m fine. I have my house keeper coming tomorrow morning, I’ll be fine.”

Hyde wants to argue, wants to shout that like fuck he’s gonna leave his chick here in this enormous place all by herself overnight. That she shouldn’t have such a fucking hardhead when it comes to him. That he knows that they started this thing off with steamy makeouts, but she should know it’s moved way passed that. They— their relationship… it means the fucking world to him. This thing they have going for them is probably one of the most important things in his life. Hyde would’ve never risked his friendship with one of his oldest pals if it weren’t.

Honestly, Hyde wants to shout that she should’ve told him when she realized Pam wasn’t coming home. She should’ve trusted him, because yeah Hyde kind of sucks at the whole communicating with words thing. But he still would’ve tried, for her. Hell, he’s pretty terrified because he’s just about sure that there’s not a single thing he wouldn’t do for Jackie freaking Burkhart.

He does none of that. Partly because he has no idea where to even begin, and partly because he knows that even with all their differences, he and Jackie were cut from the same cloth. Both to stubborn for what’s good for them, and both to independent to admit they’d need anything at all from anyone.

So instead of all that, Hyde just putters up to her, rubs a hand up and down her arm with feeling.

“Look i’m kinda accustomed to having someone plastered all up on me while I sleep, and waking up cold cause she stole the blankets. If you don’t come with me I’ll probably never be comfortable in my cot alone.”

Her glower is securely set on her face, but Hyde feels a thaw in her exterior.

“I don’t steal the blankets, you throw them on me.”

“Whatever you say doll,” he kisses her temple, and when she squeezes him in an embrace, he pretends he doesn’t feel her tears seeping through the material of his t-shirt. Just holds her tighter than ever before.

She’s all bubblegum laughter, and butter scotch kisses. Hyde thinks he loves her, thinks he’s always loved her. Hates that it’s taken him so long to tell her as much.

Hates it even more that the first time he’s ever told her so is when the break between them is too raw— too jagged— to be able to mend with pretty platitudes like I love yous. When the thought of him and some random nurse is still seared in her mind, and tales the end of everything he manages to say to her.

Hyde isn’t surprised when she storms out, when she tells him she doesn’t feel the same way. Not anymore. And why should she?

Hyde hates that he let himself fall in love with her. Let himself feel the butterflies in his gut, and the sweat on his palms. Hates that he still thinks she’s the most beautiful, brilliant girl on the face of the planet. Hates that when Kelso tells him that he’s still going after her, all Hyde could think is that she deserves anyone but him, even a prick like Kelso.

Hyde hates that the only girl he’s ever loved is the only girl he’s ever hurt so irrecoverably.

He realizes that he still has a shot with the one girl that’s ever been worth a damn.

He fights for her. She leaves him for the summer, with the question of who she’ll choose still suspended in his every breath

He kisses three other girls that summer, and none of them make him feel like his insides were bursting with something greater than glee. He concludes that the only person who’ll ever make him feel like that is the one person he can never be with again.

Until she tells him she wants to be with him, and he kisses her like the fate of his world depended on it.

“I missed you puddin pop.”

Hyde smiles against Jackie’s lips, swears he’ll never let go of this feeling again.

“I need to know that there’s a future for us.”

It’s the one thing Jackie’s always wanted, and the one thing Hyde’s never been able to give.

Hyde’s seen what marriages do to people. Seen the utter contempt in Edna’s eyes whenever she even so much as looked at Bud. The absolute shit show circus that was the Pinciotti household. The way Pam left her only daughter so callously after finalizing the divorce from the man she married for his money. Hyde knows that the Forman’s are a one in a million kind of deal, and Hyde’s never been one in a million for anything.

Besides Hyde knows Jackie, knows all the intimate parts that string together her person. Knows that she’s a beautiful whirlwind of jutting cheekbones and cunning smirks. Knows that no matter how hard she’d always dreamed of the debonair lifestyle, that she would’ve never been content with him as a partner. A man child with a family history as complicated as Marx’s manifesto, and who’s never been enough for anyone a day in his life.

She goes to Chicago before hearing his answer, (because of course she does). She gets her own segment on the morning show after three and a half months of working there, (because of course she does.) She’s the perfect amalgam of beauty, and wit, all while keeping a finger on the pulse point of popular culture. The camera loves her, and the audience is completely smitten. (Because of course they are.)

Donna tells him all this, and Hyde can do nothing but nod. She’s only confirming what Hyde’s always known was Jackie’s fate. One that’s always been destined for greatness, and had no room for the dirtbag she kissed on her daddy’s pearly white Lincoln when she was sixteen because she was a dumb, starry eyed homecoming queen who thought that she could ever love someone like him.

It hurts like fucking hell, but Hyde knows she’s better off.

But if he keeps the little velvet box still tucked under his favorite Zeppelin shirt in the drawer she use to keep her spare toiletries and tops in for whenever she spent the night— the one that still has a couple of her things that Hyde’s studiously forgotten to remind her were here— well that’s only for him to know.

The Forman’s hold a huge get together for the turn of the decade, with all their family and friends.

Kelso’s playing an intense round of peekaboo with Betsy, while a endeared looking Brooke smiles at the pair of them. Laurie and Fez are off getting handsy upstairs, and Eric and Donna are practically plastered to one another’s sides after so many months apart. Hell even Red and Mrs. Forman are holding hands and sharing fond gazes.

Hyde knows that somewhere in the crowd there’s a pretty, strawberry blonde that Fez invited from work (“because you also need some lovin after Jackie shattered your heart”). He knows that she’s waiting for him to give her the time of day, but knows just as well that he never will.

Hyde opts to grab a beer from the pile, and get away from the lot of love whipped morons he’s surrounded himself with by getting a breath of fresh air in the driveway.

What he doesn’t expect is after ten minutes of contemplating where he’s exactly found himself at twenty years old, a pearly white Lincoln slides up on the curb.

Stunned and a little petrified, he watches as Jackie— still beautiful after almost six months apart, and still haughty looking as all get out with a Gucci bag slung across her shoulder— steps out.

Her pretty, mismatched eyes widen only a fraction once catching sight of him. But she doesn’t demure, walks up to him like it’s nothing. And he thinks that absolute abandon, the way she wore her heart on her sleeve without caring about the consequences, is what proved how much stronger she was over him. How she’s always been the strongest chick he’s ever known.

“Steven.” She speaks his name like a treasure.

“Jackie,” he says like a prayer.

“Thank you for the flowers— all of them, for every show.”

Hyde mentally staggers back, wondering just how she figured it was him that sent them.

“They were Calla Lilies,” she shrugs, seemingly reading his mind. “I always told you that they’d be the flowers for our wedding.”

Hyde takes off his sunglasses, wants to have an unobstructed view of her after so much time apart. Wants to drink her in for as long as possible for when she eventually leaves him again.

“You deserved them. You were always amazing on screen whenever I got to watch you while visiting WB in Chicago.”

She kinks up a brow in silent question.

“We’re thinking of opening a new headquarters there— he wants me to run it— ya know, cause I’m his son and all.”

“Is that so,” the corner’s of her mouth curve up into a small, enchanted smile. One that Hyde returns in earnest.

“Yeah, well that,” he clasps her mitten clad hand with his bare one. Gingerly, questioningly. .

“And I told him that the only person I want to be around happens to live their, and I’d deal with all of Angie’s craziness if it meant that I could be down there with that one person.”

Her smile stretches into a full blown grin, equal parts beautiful and breathtaking. Making Hyde’s insides feel like he’s just been bathed in sunlight.

He doesn’t feel it when the snow starts to trickle down on them, or hear the bell of the new year ring true. All Hyde can focus on is the way Jackie presses up on the tips of her toes, and how her lips still fit so perfectly against his own. How it still feels like his stomach is doing gymnastic routines.

All Hyde could think is that he’s kissing the girl of his dreams in front of her daddy’s pearly white Lincoln, and how it feels like the start of his world as he knows it.

They part only to catch their breath, pressing foreheads against one another, as if terrified to stay apart for long, less the other person will dissipate right before their eyes.

“Hey Jackie.”

“Hmm?”

“That person I was telling WB about… That was you, believe or not.”

“Shut up you pig,” she punches him in the arm and all he could do is smile, feeling something wonderful bloom somewhere deep in his chest.

“Yeah, but you love me.”

“Yeah, well you love me back!”

“Yeah… Yeah I do.”

#Zenmasters #Jackie Burkhart #STEVEN HYDE #JACKIE AND HYDE #Spilled Ink #That 70s Show #SPILT INK

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reading-writing-revolution · 4 years

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Heather Cox Richardson

May 6, 2020 (Wednesday)

What a difference a day makes. Yesterday, Trump was talking about disbanding his coronavirus task force because it had outlived its usefulness and the administration was going to go full speed ahead on rebuilding the economy; today, Time magazine issued this week’s cover: an “OPEN” sign with the N ripped off and put in front of the other letters to spell “NOPE.” The administration’s attempt to pivot from a focus on the botched response to the virus toward a triumphant story of the economy has foundered as reality has caught up with Trump’s cheery narrative.

Yesterday we learned that Rick Bright, the scientist who directed the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority (BARDA), the federal agency charged with developing a vaccine for this coronavirus, has filed a whistleblower complaint. The complaint alleges he was demoted for refusing to spend his agency's money on developing hydroxychloroquine, the anti-malarial drug the administration was promoting for use against Covid-19. But the complaint goes on to charge that the administration pressured him “to ignore expert recommendations and instead to award lucrative contracts based on political connections and cronyism.”

In a very detailed 63-page report, Bright claims that he warned the leadership at Health and Human Services about the coronavirus on January 10, but was first ignored and then ostracized for his insistence that action to prepare for an epidemic was crucial. He says the everyone in the administration except trade advisor Peter Navarro simply refused to take his warnings seriously. Throughout February, Bright peppered administration officials with memos, begging them to secure medical equipment to prepare for the epidemic. Finally, they lost patience with him in March, when he refused to back hydroxychloroquine when the president was touting it as a possible cure for Covid.

Bright told a reporter about the dangers of the drug, and days later was removed from the directorship of BARDA to a post at the National Institutes of Health, because political appointees Alex Azar, the head of HHS, and Dr. Robert Kadlec, Bright’s immediate boss, suspected him of being a source for the article. Bright claims to have been retaliated against for his role as a whistleblower, and is demanding his old job back.

Bright’s whistleblower report was only one of two that offered a window into the administration’s fumbling of the epidemic. We learned that on April 8, a volunteer on Jared Kushner’s coronavirus task force, filed a whistleblower complaint with the House Oversight Committee. Kushner's group took the place of established channels staffed by experts in order to coordinate a private sector effort to find the medical supplies America needed. The complaint, supported by anonymous individuals in the government, says that the people working with Kushner were young volunteers from consulting and private equity firms with no significant experience in health care, procurement, or supply-chain operations, and had no knowledge of relevant laws or regulations. They were ill equipped to do their jobs, and were also ordered to pay particular attention to tips from “VIPs,” including conservative journalists like Brian Kilmeade and Jeanine Pirro, as they searched for medical equipment.

Today, Politico published a story based on audio tapes leaked from three conference calls between HHS and Federal Emergency Management Agency officials and federal officials around the country fielding calls from governors trying to find medical equipment. The calls highlight that as Trump was saying the nation had plenty of equipment, his officials were scrambling to try to provide it. The leaked tapes also show officials privately acknowledging that reopening the states would lead to a higher rate of coronavirus infections.

In an interview with ABC News yesterday, Trump himself admitted the reopening of states for business could cause people to die. At a briefing, when reporter Jim Acosta asked why it was important to end social distancing right now, Trump told reporters "I'm viewing our great citizens of this country to a certain extent and to a large extent as warriors. They're warriors. We can't keep our country closed. We have to open our country ... Will some people be badly affected? Yes."

But Trump didn’t offer much to provide confidence that the government was on top of the ongoing coronavirus response. In the ABC News interview, when Trump blamed President Barack Obama for leaving the “cupboard” of the Strategic National Stockpile “bare” of medical supplies when he left office, anchor David Muir asked him what he had done to restock it in the three years he’s been in office. The question appeared to catch the president, who is accustomed to a friendly audience on the Fox News Channel, off guard. “Well, I'll be honest,” he said. “I have a lot of things going on. We had a lot of people that refused to allow the country to be successful. They wasted a lot of time on Russia, Russia, Russia. That turned out to be a total hoax. Then they did Ukraine, Ukraine and that was a total hoax, then they impeached the president of the United States for absolutely no reason.”

A Washington Post article by Dr. Zack Cooper, associate professor at the Yale School of Public Health and Yale’s Economics Department, says that we do, in fact, have the ability to test at the rate of 20 million tests a day, which is what experts say we need in order to reopen the economy safely. But the rub is that it would cost about $250 billion, and there has not, so far, been sufficient political will to spend that kind of money on testing, especially when those most affected by the reopening of states have been poor Americans and workers who are disproportionately people of color. A Rockefeller Foundation committee on reopening the economy has published a report on how to do so safely; Cooper was a member of the committee.

But for all these events undercutting Trump’s push to reopen the economy, what got under his skin most dramatically was an advertisement released Monday by the Lincoln Group entitled “Mourning in America.” This one-minute spot plays on President Ronald Reagan’s famous “Morning In America” reelection campaign ad, showing Trump’s term as the opposite of the rosy vision people associated with Reagan. “There’s mourning in America,” the voice in the ad intones over shots of Covid-stricken patients and folks in unemployment lines in masks, “and under the leadership of Donald Trump, our country is weaker, and sicker, and poorer. And now, Americans are asking, ‘If we have another four years like this, will there even be an America?”

It took Trump four tweets to express his fury adequately, calling Lincoln Project founder George Conway a “deranged loser.” Ten hours later, he was still fuming, and ranted about the Lincoln Project to reporters for two minutes on the tarmac at Joint Base Andrews. This gave Conway the opening to hit him again in an op-ed in the Washington Post today. The article used Trump’s behavior to illustrate Conway’s usual concerns about Trump’s fitness for office, but it began with a new focus on the coronavirus: “Americans died from Covid-19 at the rate of about one every 42 seconds during the past month. That ought to keep any president awake at night.”

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roleplay-central · 4 years

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The Dreadwolf Company

Augus - a master architect. a good source for building schematics and historical details. initially hired by Draud to advise on property values in the city and where to build. why he has remained on the payroll after the casino was built is a mystery. a polite individual who is generally pleasant to be around. though he seems more interested in scrolls and parchments than conversation.

Rip - a Cutter, also Draud’s floor manager and right hand man. how they know each other is a mystery, but Draud seems to trust the man who’s dry sense of humor can be a bit on the morbid side. most everyone in the company so far also seem to trust him, a few maybe even look up to him. is head over heels for Daisy, but she can’t seem to commit so he gets what he can. the only one in the company he dislikes more than Scabs is Stover who seems interested in Daisy too.

Bricks - an experienced Cutter and thug. never seen without a burning cigar and sometimes gets involved with some of the games going on in the casino on her breaks. she doesn’t tolerate any nonsense while on the clock, however, and is often put in charge of the casino when Rip is in a meeting with Draud or they are away on business. doesn’t laugh often but is pretty easy to get along with if you compliment her weapons.

Meg - a former pit-fighter and trainer for new recruits. she has officially been put in charge of the pit-fighting ring on the property next to the casino. don’t get her started on the “glory days” or she’ll never shut up about the time she nearly punched the head off of a meaty Skovlan butcher. she’s a tough old bitch who is suspicious of everyone except Draud. she can sometimes be seen smiling around him, but anyone who’s ever said anything about it gets a broken face.

Daisy - a sneaky Lurk who spies on people for Draud and runs the occasional underground errand. she likes to stay high up above the crowd to keep an eye on everything and she never talks. not since her tongue was cut out by a drunken Skov when she was a child. a mild mannered woman who is known to show random kindness to prostitute’s on the street, especially mistreated ones. has an on-and-off again relationship with Rip.

Fiona Plenty - a really old Mercy who doesn’t really talk about herself a whole lot and won’t seem to fucking die despite all the people she heals. no one in the company (besides maybe Rip) knows how long she’s been employed by Draud, but it’s always surprising when she treats him like a grandson rather than her boss. a very sweet woman with the patience of a saint. permanently blind in one eye. some people think she’s originally from Iruvia.

Marcus - a bully Cutter, a guard for the casino and thug for any unsavory errands Draud needs taken care of. he is Lincoln’s older brother and always has to pick up after his ridiculous messes. he often says he’s gonna leave Lincoln in the gutter one day and never look back, but anyone that even looks at his baby brother the wrong way gets a hard fist in the kisser. otherwise he’s pretty easy to get along with, especially when you get a few drinks in him.

Lincoln - a hard-knocked Lurk, a scruffy thief, and a weirdly kind-hearted thug all wrapped up in one adorable package. he is Marcus’ younger brother and can’t seem to find a way to stay out of trouble. not for a lack of trying. poor Lincoln has a habit of trying to help people even when he’s being sent by Draud to do some criminal work. a very sweet man who likes to make women laugh and ironically hates gambling.

Fitz - a collector and aficionado of strange artifacts. Draud’s official financial advisor and the company’s accountant. not a lot is known about her other than what crazy new rumor is going around. the most popular is that she’s actually a minor greed devil sent by one of the Iruvian demon princes to spy on Doskvol. she ignores the gossip. an imperious attitude, she thinks she is above everyone else and they simply exist as pawn pieces to whatever money making scheme she is cooking up for Draud. why she respects him and no one else is yet another mystery. not easy to get along with, and frankly, why would you want to?

Dowler - a young explorer. one of the rare deathlands scavengers that survived his sentence. four years alone in the deathlands for armed robbery of a City Watchman. to be fair, however, he had no idea the home belonged to a Bluecoat. and he was only 15, trying to find quick ways to make money to feed his dying sister. he came back and found she had passed away from her illness. when he isn’t out scavenging for Draud, he can be spotted lurking about the casino and other properties on the block. more of a ghost than a human being. he likes hanging around Fiona the most, but doesn’t seem to have any emotions and is a bit of a fatalist. might ignore you and awkwardly walk away if you try to strike up a conversation.

Keller - a blacksmith. a source for bladed armaments. he works closely with Calibre who’s workshop sits right next door to his forge. on their time off, they like to go drinking and whoring together. some have started calling them the Forge brothers even though they look nothing alike. Keller is a tough, happy bastard who likes to joke around with the other company employees. is always trying to get Dowler to laugh, feeling sorry for the kid. since moving to Silkshore, he definitely has a eye on a few of the whores from the Gilded Lily.

Calibre - a genius gunsmith and inventor from Severos. he tries to teach Keller everything he knows in case he suddenly dies one day. he’s strangely optimistic about everything else, however, and loves to joke around with the other employees. he is always trying to come up with some new crazy contraption to make money off of. Keller seems to be the only one who supports this, although Draud has yet to tell him to stop either. he loves Iruvian women, but since Scarlet is clearly not interested, he gets his special pleasures from the brothels. just a great guy in general. like everybody’s favorite uncle.

Scabs - an experienced Imperium surgeon that runs Draud’s secret infirmary. has strange appetites. a rather vile looking man with festering facial scars and a nasty sense of humor. no one has stared long enough to tell, but some say it looks like his nose was torn off and replaced by a metal prosthetic. out of all the company employees, Scabs is the least liked and most avoided. but he is really good at what he does when Fiona is incapacitated or Riven and Ellin’s medicines aren’t enough. so they keep him around. trust me, you don’t want to know much more than that.

Riven - a chemist and a good source of medicines for recovery. but a bit unstable with the need to experiment. he is a pyromaniac and often has to be locked away for a spell when he has his brief manic episodes where he just wants to set everything on fire. he really only listens to Draud and Rip, although sometimes he’ll do whatever Ellin says just to get into her pantry where she keeps all her secret witch’s ingredients. some say there is a method to his madness. he is certainly a mad genius, if only he didn’t try to blow up his lab so often. he’d be a great conversationalist if you could get him to sit down and stay still for more than ten seconds.

Ellin - a Whisper. a knowledgeable healer and seer who works closely with Riven. mostly ordered to keep an eye on his hi-jinks, she’s grown fond of his chaotic antics. always developing new ways to calm him down, she spends most of her days reading books about the mind when she should be focused on her witchcraft. as a result, she’s not as in tune with magic and the spiritual side of things as other Whispers, but she does suffer from terrible visions occasionally and is always a bit surprised when Riven shows his concern. over time, she’s been horrified to discover she’s developed a sort of crush on the chemist. she is easy to talk to, although she can be a bit wary of strangers and often doesn’t have time to make new friends when she’s following Riven around.

King - just a plain ole thug. a gigantic man from Dagger Isles who no one wants to mess with. a former smuggler who claims his life was saved by Draud. so now he serves his life debt at the casino making sure no one tries to cheat or cause a scene. his hands look like they can crush a man’s head to jelly, which probably keeps everything peaceful when he’s standing in the corner. he doesn’t talk much, but seems polite enough. secretly a giant teddy bear and admires Bricks and her swords from afar, although he has no intention of ever approaching her about his feelings.

Stover - the head chef of the Dreadwolf’s Den with his own entire kitchen crew. he is bossy, foul mouthed, and doesn’t take orders from anyone else other than Draud. even Rip can’t get the ornery chef to do what he says. Stover never stops smoking and claims he’s determined to fall into an early grave through cigarettes rather than whatever idiotic all-out gang war the city is constantly trying to avoid. he cooks for the rest of the company on the side when the casino is closed…if they ask nicely. always gives Daisy the best leftover scraps because he’s the only one who has ever spotted her feeding the stray cats in the alleys nearby (during one of his many smoke breaks). because they’re so secretive about it, there’s a rumor going around that they’re lovers, causing a tense one-sided rivalry between Stover and Rip.

Bars - basically an idiot who’s really good with a hammer. he likes whoring and breaking things. or building them when he’s in the right mood. but he works under Bricks’ strict orders to keep the casino safe. He likes hanging out with the Forge brothers, and is often sent on errands with Marcus and Lincoln when a job needs a hardier touch. if you ask, he’d be proud to tell you he got his nickname “Bars” because the ladies have great handlebars to hold onto when riding on top of him. referring to his thick, glorious mustache of course.

Scarlet - a quick-footed Iruvian swordswoman who does the odd job for Draud. works most often with Daisy. her past is mysterious but her skills are legendary. some think she’s a former Red Sash member, but that’s just a gross assumption based on the fact that she has a strange red birthmark slashed across her face. she isn’t very easy to talk to, but she likes hanging around King, enjoying the way people get nervous at the sight of him. she knows his secret, but would never tell Bricks unless King wanted her to. she also likes listening to the others banter, though never joins in herself.

Alley Boy - a normal human man who was wrongfully accused of witchcraft and devilry when he was only twenty. it was in fact his Whisper girlfriend that framed him to take the fall before she fled the city. after he was made an example of, Alley Boy returned to the streets to do the only work a ruined face like his would allow: theft and spying. ten years later and he still doesn’t fault his former lover for what she did. he is never seen at the casino, or anywhere customers might be, preferring instead to wander around the city and only show up when he has information for Draud. he makes the most contact with Daisy and Scarlet. and seems to be the second most likely person Drowler might hang out with, if only he showed up more often and stayed longer than 2 minutes. deep down, a gentle soul who could never hurt a fly.

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valentines-in-london · 5 years

Text

I Need Fire (Part 12)

Authors Note: Two chapters in a weekend?! I don’t know what’s gotten into me, this chapter just kind of took off. I hope I’m not updating too fast, I’ve gotten behind on stories before and it was hard to catch back up. If I am please let me know!

I’m really looking forward to the twists and turns that are coming up in this story, we’ve done a lot of building so far but the rollercoaster ride is just starting! As always feedback, replies and asks are always welcome and it is a joy to receive them! Word Count: 6,118 Warnings: smut Taglist: @freddiessmallnipples @triplehaitches @samanthadegaro@lauravic @oh-well1 If you’d like to be added please let me know!

Previous Chapter Master Lists

Chapter 12

Rayne hadn’t been back to the east coast in years. She couldn’t believe that when she was finally able to take time off of work to see Tommy on the road it happened to be when they were playing her old stomping grounds. Rayne walked off the plane with a dufflebag thrown over her shoulder, upon exiting she saw a younger man holding up a sign with her name on it. “Hey I’m Rayne.”

“Hello Ms. Sykes.” He nodded to her. “My name is Tony I’ll take your bag.”

“Oh no it’s fine Tony, I got it, this is all I have.” She smiled genuinely.

“Alright, if you’re sure follow me and we’ll head to the car.” He turned and began walking through the airport. They had done a lot of work on it since she flew out of here years ago but it still looked run down, that was the charm of it. Rayne couldn’t wait to see Tommy again, it had been two months since they were last in each others arms and it had been too long. When they approached the car Tony popped the trunk taking Rayne’s bag from her to place it in before he helped her into the back seat of his Lincoln. As they pulled out of the lot he asked, “Did you have a good flight?”

“Yeah it wasn’t too bad, I slept through most of it actually because it was a red eye. I don’t think I’m going to be getting much sleep until I go back to California.” She softly chuckled.

“Well I’m dropping you off at the hotel so maybe you’ll be able to get some sleep there. Where are you from?” Tony made small talk.

“I’m actually from across the bridge in Jersey, but I moved out to LA a few years ago for college. I’m out here to visit my boyfriend.”

“Long distance?”

“I guess you could say that, he’s in a touring band so sometimes we don’t see each other for long stretches of time.”

“That sounds rough.” Tony empathized with her situation. “Any band I would know?”

“Um, I don’t know I guess it would depend on the music you like. He’s in Motley Crue.” Upon her saying the name Tony stopped a bit short at a red light. He turned in his seat.

“What? You’re dating someone in Motley Crue? I fucking love them!” He said enthusiastically. Rayne couldn’t help but smile, this was the east coast personality she missed, unapologetic and in your face. On the west coast people tended to hide their feelings or just be a bit blasé about things, not back home though.

“Yeah I think they’re pretty good too.” Rayne smiled. “Have you gotten the new record?”

“Fuck yeah I have, I live at home with my ma and she hates it, thinks they’re the devils music.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Rayne smiled looking at Tony in the rearview mirror. “They totally are.”

Tony let out a deep belly laugh in response. “Where are they playing tonight?”

“They’re playing The Garden with Ozzy.”

“They’re opening for Ozzy? Holy shit I had no idea. I’ll have to go down when I’m done my shift and see if I can scalp some tickets.” Tony smiled wide pulling into the valet area of the Hyatt hotel.

“Well if you get in look for me. I wish there was a way I could get tickets for you, but to be honest I’ve never been out on a tour before so I don’t really know how it works.” Rayne said sheepishly.

“It’s alright. Let’s just say you owe me one.” Tony said getting out of the car walking around the front of the car to open the door for her. Soon after he handed her bag to her along with a business card. “Here take my card. If you ever need to get out of a jam call me.”

“Thanks Tony. I will.” Rayne smiled handing him a $10 bill and turning to walk into the hotel. She looked around seeing elaborate decoration of the hotel and it was beyond fancy. There was a lot of younger people loitering around the lobby, a few of them in Motley Crue shirts it looked like it was no secret where the band were staying. Rayne walked up to the front desk where a young blond woman smiled bright at her, her name tag read Brittany. “Welcome to the Chelsea how can I help you?”

“Yeah I’m here with the party under the name McGhee.” Rayne put her dufflebag down at her feet.

“Which member of the party are you with?” Brittany asked.

“Mr. King.” Rayne replied, she had talked to Tommy the night before and he told her his alias to give the front desk.

“Very good Ms King. Here is your room key you’re in room 18917 just walk down past the bar and go down the hallway to the left, and the elevators will be right there. Take them up to the eighteenth floor.” Brittany smiled at her. “Just give us a ring if you need anything.”

“Thank you so much. Have a good day.” Rayne nodded taking the key from the woman and following her directions. When she walked past the bar she saw Doc sitting there staring into a cocktail. She approached him, “Doc? You okay?”

He looked up at Rayne and it was like a cloud lifted from him. “Oh thank god you’re here gorgeous.”

“Huh? Why?” Rayne questioned taking a seat next to him.

“Here let’s walk up to your room, the kids all know who I am they don’t need to get you in their crosshairs just yet. The band is at a local radio station doing an interview.” Doc jerked his head in the direction of the group of kids waiting in the lobby. Doc led her to the elevator which was waiting on the lobby floor. When they stepped in he began again. “I can’t lie Rayne. I have never been through what Motley Crue have put me through on this tour.”

“What? What’s happened?” Rayne was utterly confused by his statement.

“Well where do I start? Everyone shooting off fireworks at a sleeping Mick in his room, making the curtains catch on fire and the hotel be evacuated. Nikki using his bass as a sledge hammer at every hotel we’ve been to. The three idiots throwing TV’s out of hotel windows onto cars down on the street below. Your boyfriend, my dear, is like Mr. Hyde when you’re not around. Him and Nikki call themselves the terror twins and I couldn’t think of a more appropriate name.” By the time Doc was done recounting the horrors they had stepped out of the elevator and found themselves in front of room 18917. Doc turned to Rayne, “I can’t promise you that this room will not look like a bomb went off in it.”

Rayne was officially nervous to see what was on the other side of the door. She thoughtlessly brought the key up to the reader when the lights blinked green she opened the door to reveal the room. It looked like any other regular hotel room, it was clean with the exception of the messed up sheets on the king sized bed. There was a giant bouquet of lavender and blue roses on the desk next to the television. Doc let out a sigh next to her. “Oh thank god. I’m telling you Rayne, he’s Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde. At least for the next week I don’t have to worry about one of the lunatics.”

“Doc is it really that bad?” What had she gotten herself into? What Doc was describing was not the Tommy she had come to know, he was always mischievous but never menacing or flat out crazy or disruptive.

“I’m jealous that you get to leave after a week. The band should be back soon.” Doc smiled before walking out the door, closing it behind him. Rayne sighed setting her bag down taking a step towards the bouquet of flowers and the card that sat at the bottom of the vase.

Two months without you might as well be a lifetime

I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.

Rayne smiled at the card, leaning down to inhale the scent of the unique colored roses, but Doc’s declaration of saying Tommy was Dr. Jekyll and Mr Hyde was at the back of her mind. With a sigh Rayne pulled one of the lavender roses out holding it against her chest and laying on the bed, breathing in the scent of Tommy that had been left from the night before. She rested her eyes and nestled her head against the fluffy pillow. She had lost track of time but the sound of the door unlocking made Rayne open her eyes and sit up in bed. Rising to her feet she watched as Tommy entered the room in a tank top, ripped up tight jeans and the hat she had given him on their first Christmas.

Tommy’s face immediately broke into a giant smile before he rushed at Rayne immediately kissing her lips. He kissed her like it was the last time he would kiss her, Rayne let out a moan before pulling away from him. “That was quite the greeting.”

Tommy scooped Rayne up in his arms and instinctually she wrapped her legs around his waist. “I have three hours til soundcheck, and I know exactly how I’m going to spend them.”

“Oh you do, do you?” Rayne raised her chin. “I don’t know Tommy I just had a long flight I’m a little hungry…”

“So am I. For you.” Tommy smiled before sitting down on the bed. Rayne leaned down to kiss Tommy once more her smooth lips meeting his and his calloused hands ran up her lose t-shirt against her skin before he eventually removed her shirt all together. Tommy shifted to lay Rayne back on the bed while he kissed his way down her body removing clothes as he went. Rayne arched her back when Tommy peppered her inner thighs with kisses before his tongue did one long sweeping motion over Rayne’s pussy. Tommy eagerly licked and kissed Rayne’s most sensitive spot before sliding two fingers deep into her making her moan and cry out in pleasure. Burying her hands in his raven locks to urge him on Rayne cried out, “Oh fuck Tommy. Don’t stop.”

Tommy sped up his actions and Rayne cried out, back arched, legs feeling like jello as her orgasm washed over her and over Tommy. Tommy licked up every last drop of cum before raising his head with a smile over his glistening lips. “Yep just as sweet as I remember.”

“You’re so bad. You shouldn’t be making me do that when we’re in a hotel.” Rayne chuckled as Tommy climbed on top of her.

“I’ll leave a nice tip for house keeping. But if I don’t get inside you right now I might lose my damn mind.” Rayne smiled before she pulled Tommy’s mouth onto hers. She reached her hands down to help him push his pants down. Tommy quickly pulled both Rayne’s legs up holding them by the ankles and resting them on his one shoulder. Once her legs were settled he quickly sank himself into her.

“Oooh I missed this.” Rayne moaned out as Tommy slowly thrust in and out of her.

“You are so fuckin tight baby.” Tommy groaned out. In this position Rayne couldn’t do much of anything, she was completely at his mercy. She grabbed a handful of the sheets and held on for the ride. “Tell me how much you missed me baby.”

“I missed your cock Tommy. I missed feeling you cumming inside of me. I missed, oh fuck, I missed you fucking me raw into the mattress.” Rayne cried out when Tommy hit a particularly good spot. Tommy’s thrusts became erratic and Rayne knew he was close. “Fuck Tommy, give it to me. Cum for me.”

Rayne cried out as her back arched and toes curled from her own orgasm. Tommy’s hips paused as he released himself inside of Rayne and collapsed next to her on the bed both of them doing their best to catch their breath. “I’m not going to let you out of my bed the entire time you’re here.”

Rayne let out a breathy laugh before reaching across Tommy to the nightstand to grab his pack of cigarettes. She took two out quickly lighting them and handing one to Tommy. “Well unfortunately for you Tommy, you’re going to have to play shows and do interviews and all sorts of band things. So I don’t believe you can make good on that threat.”

“S-she got you there T-Bone. But I really can’t blame you, she’ss got a mouff on herr.” They heard a slurring voice from inside the hotel room causing Rayne to immediately grab the sheets to cover herself up.

“Nikki, what the fuck!” Tommy shouted, leaning to see his bass player sitting slouched over on the floor of his hotel room.

“I forgot Rayne wascoming today, and I was bored. But youz guys helped me with that.” Rayne could tell Nikki was shit faced. His words slurred together unapologetically. She took a deep inhale off the cigarette before she sat up draping her arm around Tommy still keeping covered with the sheet.

“Don’t be an asshole Nikki.” Tommy barked at his best friend.

“I’m not! She’s ob-ob-viously a great ff-uck.” Nikki turned around looking at Tommy and Rayne in bed. “She letss you cum in her pus-sy and she ssure can talk dirty. Iff I wuzn’t drunk I’d be hard.”

“Nikki get the fuck out.” Tommy got out of bed grabbing Nikki to his feet and pushing him out of the door. As he walked back in he saw the spare key to his room at his feet. He let out a frustrated breath. “Fuck I forgot I gave him the key to my room last night. I’m sorry baby.”

Rayne took one final deep breath from the cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray next to the bed. “Welcome to tour life I guess right?” She chuckled shaking her head. They must’ve looked like a hot mess when Nikki saw them, Tommy’s pants were around his thighs, Rayne’s pants and shirt were thrown off while her bra was still on but both breasts were exposed. Tommy sat back in the bed next to her kissing her on the cheek. “Come on after a red eye flight and a roll through the sheets with you I could use a shower. Wanna join me?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Tommy smiled pulling his tank top over is head and his pants all the way off.

After a hot and heavy shower Tommy and Rayne found themselves in the bowels of Madison Square Garden. The first thing Tommy had Rayne do was get her photo taken for her All Access pass so she could go wherever she wanted any time she was with them on tour. She wrote her name in thick black sharpie before clipping the photo onto a lanyard. “Now that that’s taken care of are you still hungry?”

“Oh yeah I’m starving!” Rayne moaned excitedly which made Tommy grin, “Okay, catering isn’t the greatest but it’s free food.”

When Tommy and Rayne got to the catering room it was filled with crew members and faces that Rayne wasn’t familiar with, except one blonde woman, her best friend: Jo. Jo had her back to Rayne so she nodded to Tommy and he made her way over to her best friend while Rayne filled a plate with bread, some lunch meat, carrots and potatoes. She approached the table and heard Jo ask Tommy, “She’s still not here yet?”

Rayne smiled and placed her tray down on the table. “No I think I heard she decided not to come.”

Jo jumped up and let out a scream wrapping her arms around Rayne’s neck. “Oh I’m so glad you’re here!”

Rayne pulled away from her quickly, “Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah fine, it’s just when you’re out here and the only other women are groupies who want to fuck your man. It’s hard to have some good girl talk.” She turned to look at Tommy. “No offense Tommy.”

Tommy looked up at the two women as he was happily chewing on a carrot. “None taken. I know I’m not good for girl talk, I’d think Vince would be best at it considering he looks like a chick but kinda hard to do that when you’re dating him.”

Jo and Rayne let Tommy ramble before Rayne reached for a stalk of celery dipping it into some ranch and taking a bite. Rayne smiled at him before turning to Jo, “So how has it been?”

“Oh it’s been interesting.” Jo chuckled. “You really don’t get any privacy out on the road.”

“I found that out earlier.” Rayne smiled sharing a glance with Tommy. “Nikki had a key to Tommy’s room and he walked in on us this morning.”

“Oh fuck.” Jo chuckled. “I don’t mind a bit of voyeurism but I know that’s not your thing.”

“He won’t even remember it by the time we hit the stage.” Tommy shook his head.

“That’s probably true.” Jo shrugged.

“So Tommy,” Rayne smiled taking a bite of the sandwich she had grabbed. “I heard you are quite different when I’m not here. I heard something about the name Terror Twins.”

“Who told you that?” Tommy questioned putting down his second carrot.

“Just Doc.” Rayne shrugged before turning to Jo. “So is that true? Is Tommy different?”

Jo pulled a face which told Rayne the answer was yes he is. She watched as her best friend shared a look with her boyfriend and turned back to her taking a deep breath. “He is, but like not in a bad way. I guess that’s how you’d put it.”

“Elaborate.”

“He’s just a trouble maker when you’re not here. He runs around hotels naked, gets the cops called on him, wrecks hotel rooms. It’s always with Nikki though, there’s never girls around Tommy. Well there are girls around but he honestly never does anything with them.” Jo quickly made that last point clear. Rayne looked over at a sheepish Tommy. She pushed herself up and walked over to him sitting on his lap. Tommy wrapped his arms around Rayne’s waist.

“Getting the cops called on you?” Rayne questioned raising an eyebrow.

“It was just a few times.” Tommy defended himself. “It’s mostly for being loud at the hotels. I don’t run around the halls naked… okay one time I ran around naked.”

“What am I gonna do with you Troublemaker?” Rayne shook her head.

“What can I say? I go a little crazy when my girl isn’t with me.” Tommy smiled giving Rayne a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“Uh huh.” Rayne shot him a questioning look. “Don’t try to butter me up.”

“Come on, let me introduce you to the important people out on the road so everyone knows you and doesn’t bother you when you’re back here.” Tommy shot up from the cafeteria like table with a silly smile on his face.

“Alright fine, but I’m not dropping this just yet.” Rayne pointed her finger at him in attempt to make her point before waving bye to Jo and following Tommy.

Rayne had never been so thankful that basically everyone had a pass with their name and photo on it. There was no way she’d be able to remember everyone that Tommy had introduced her to. But he made it a point to let everyone know that she was his girlfriend and no one was to give her a hard time backstage. Prior to the show Rayne and Tommy were in the dressing room and she applied his makeup as she had grown accustom to doing.

Tommy’s hands rested on Rayne’s hips a cigarette dangling from his fingertips while Rayne worked her magic. Nikki entered the room with a red cup in his hand. “See this is one upside to having a girlfriend, you don’t have to do your own makeup.”

Rayne chuckled turning her head to look at Nikki while Tommy took a puff on his cigarette. “I could do yours when I’m done with his. It’s not like it takes a lot of time and I’m almost done with Tommy.”

“Alright.” Nikki nodded taking a seat next to the drummer studying what Rayne was doing. Tommy handed his cigarette to Rayne who happily took a deep breath letting the smoke fill her lungs. “I like the grey you put on his cheek.”

“We can do that for you too, even though you usually wear lots of pink blush, I can do that with the blush if you want.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Alright hot stuff, you’re done.” Rayne grinned giving Tommy a peck on the lips. He patted her hips while she got off his lap before pulling a chair up to where Nikki was sitting.

“Oh I don’t get the full effect if you’re not sitting on my lap.”

“Watch it Sixx, ask Tommy, I have sharp eyeliner here and I’m not afraid to use it.” Rayne smiled before encouraging, “Now close your eyes.”

Rayne began to brush Nikki’s bangs off his face making him pull away from her slightly. “What are you doing?”

“I have to get your hair out of your eyes before I do your makeup.” Rayne reasoned. “What are you afraid I’m going to find out all your deep dark secrets if I can actually see your eyes?”

Nikki once again pulled away from her, “Kinda yeah.”

“Oh come on.” Rayne chuckled. “What do you think I am? Some kinda witch?”

“You got my buddy bewitched.” Nikki nodded in Tommy’s direction who was putting on his stage gear.

“I put a spell on him, and now he’s mine.” Rayne quoted the Screamin Jay Hawkins song teasing Nikki slightly as she heavily packed the black eyeshadow on his eye lids.

“He’s slightly more fun when you’re not around.” Nikki grinned.

“So I’ve heard. You know when we first met I told him, I’m not his mom. He doesn’t have to act differently around me then when he’s around his friends. I’d actually prefer it if he didn’t.”

“I’m sorry about earlier today. I’m an asshole.” Nikki changed the subject.

“It’s okay.” Rayne shrugged, heavily brushing on a bright pinkish red blush high on his cheeks. “I kinda know that about you at this point Sixx.”

“And you’re still friends with me despite it?” Nikki opened his eyes now that she was working on his face.

“Miraculously yes I am.” Rayne chuckled as Tommy came over in his full stage outfit covered in black and red spikes, studs and leather, Doc followed behind him. Stanley did a great job with their stage outfits, Rayne thought.

“Doc just told me he’s gonna fly my parents out to a show on this tour, my dad has family in Boston so it’ll be next week.” Tommy smiled wide putting a hand on Rayne’s shoulder. “You’ll just miss them.”

“Maybe we could fly your family in for a show Nikki.” Doc said genuinely. Rayne could feel Nikki tense up, his jaw immediately clenched.

“Yeah that’s a great idea Doc.” Nikki rolled his eyes, shaking his head causing Doc to leave them alone. Tommy took a seat next to them on the vanity chair. Rayne leaned forward and whispered to Nikki.

“Don’t worry, I don’t get along with my family either.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Maybe one night while I’m here we can talk about our fucked up family values over drinks, or for you lines of coke. If you want.” Rayne chuckled. Nikki simply responded with a smile and a nod of his head. Maybe it would be good for him to have someone who knew where he was coming from to talk about his family life growing up. Tommy always referred to it as “dysfunction junction” but never elaborated, and Rayne could certainly say the same about her life.

“Right, you’re done rock star.” Rayne smiled shifting Nikki’s bangs back into his eyes.

Nikki stood up checked the mirror, nodded and threw up horns with his hands. Tommy grabbed Rayne’s hand leading her out the door. “Come on I’ll show you where you can watch the show. I’d say Jo would, but she and Vince always get a quickie in before he goes on stage.”

Rayne let out a hearty laugh, “Yep that sounds about right. What about you? Fancy a quickie?”

“Is that a trick question?”

Rayne smiled before pulling Tommy into a room that had vending machines for the backstage workers. Closing the door behind them Rayne pushed Tommy against the door and gave him a kiss before dropping to her knees.

The show was of course absolutely incredible, Rayne would even venture to say that they gave Ozzy a run for his money. The crowd lost their minds from the time the band went on stage to the time they walked off, even chanting “one more song” after the band played their final song. After a quick shower Tommy joined Rayne sidestage to watch Ozzy’s set.

As the last song of the night rang through the arena, a cover of Paranoid by Black Sabbath, Tommy and Rayne made their way back to the dressing room. “You ready to head back to the hotel?”

“I know I am, I’m still exhausted from the flight earlier.” Rayne smiled looking up at him. “Tommy you don’t have to come back to the hotel with me if you want to hang out with the boys.”

“I hang out with the boys every night. Tonight I want to be with you.” Tommy wrapped his arm around her shoulders bringing her close to him. He smelled like fresh citrus from the soap he had used earlier. “Let’s find Doc and we’ll head back.”

It didn’t take long to find Doc, who was talking with the promoter of the gig. When Doc saw Tommy and Rayne walking towards him he shook the promoters hand and turned to the couple. “Doc we’re going to head back to the hotel for the night alright?”

“Really?” Doc looked at his watch, “It’s only 11 o’clock. Don’t you have a strip joint to be at?”

“Well Rayne is exhausted from her flight, and I just miss her so I want to spend as much time with her as I can. We can go to a strip club another night.”

“I told him he didn’t need to come back with me if he didn’t want to. If you need him for anything Doc, don’t feel like he needs to come back with me.” Rayne spoke up.

“No, no please take him. One less monster I have to wrangle at the end of the night. At least I know where one is.” Doc breathed a sigh which received a laugh from both Rayne and Tommy. “Car’s out the back door on the ramp. No fans near there.”

“Well then, we’re going to head out then.” Tommy laced his fingers through Rayne’s and the two made their way out to a Lincoln town car with blacked out windows.

“Do you not like meeting fans?” Rayne asked Tommy as they drove down the ramp passed a crowd of people behind a barricade who were screaming as the car pulled out and made it’s way to the hotel.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s that a lot of times they want to party with us, and-“ He paused. “Well it’s like it is in LA, some women just won’t let up no matter how many times I say I’m in a relationship. It just can get tiring.”

“Oh,” Rayne replied. “Well I still think you should meet your fans whenever you can. Those are the people that put money in your pocket.”

“You say that now.” Tommy chuckled. “We’ll see how you feel when we get mobbed with fans somewhere. Most places are pretty good with giving us places to get in and out with relative ease, others are a nightmare.”

“Well all I know is that tonight I have you all to myself. Two months is too long to sleep alone.” Rayne rested her head on Tommy’s shoulder closing her eyes until they got back to the hotel.

The next day Rayne found herself on a tour bus and off to the next city, which would be Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. The band rarely used the bus for overnight sleeping, it was a tool to travel from point A to point B and they used the bunks to catch up on any sleep lost from the night before. Rayne laid on one of the couches with her head resting in Tommy’s lap. Tommy smiled down at her tracing different shapes along her stomach, “A glamorous life isn’t in? Good thing you only brought a dufflebag. You’ll be packing and unpacking a lot.”

“I’m only here for seven days, I didn’t need to bring heavy luggage.” Rayne chuckled as Tommy hit a particularly ticklish spot. “I probably should’ve brought more comfortable clothes though, it’s not the most comfortable to be laying on a bus in tight ass leather pants.”

“Yeah but you look great. Those pants look like they were painted on you, and your ass looks great.” Tommy said appreciatively. When the band pulled up to the hotel Tommy saw a handful of people outside the front doors. A few in Motley shirts were a dead giveaway that they were fans. “Remember last night when I said some places are a nightmare?”

“Yeah?” Rayne said as she sat up on the couch looking out and seeing exactly what Tommy was referencing. She smiled turning to Tommy patting him on the shoulder. “Well rockstar it’s time to schmooze with your fans.”

The bus parked and Tommy put a pair of sunglasses on before standing up, helping Rayne up after him. Keeping her hand in his Tommy was the first one off the bus with Rayne in tow. Fans screamed his name and rushed towards him pulling him in all directions, pushing Rayne out of the way in the process. Wow, yeah this is kinda crazy.

Rayne noticed as Mick walked right into the hotel without much hassle but Nikki and Vince also got mobbed with fans. Tommy was quick to speak up. “Okay guys look, I’ll sign whatever you want me to just chill out. And hands off her.” Tommy said pointing over at Rayne which caused everyone to turn and look at her. She received more than a few dirty looks from various women.

“I’ll tell you right now, you’ll never get used to that.” Jo hopped off the bus and walked over to Rayne.

“Used to what?”

“Knowing that most of the women over there wish you were dead so they could fuck your man. And knowing that at least half of them would still fuck your man even knowing he was taken.” Jo said simply.

Rayne watched as Tommy signed various vinyl records and magazine covers. He conversed with everyone with ease and she could see everyone was having a good time with the few minutes he spent with each fan. She did take a few steps forward when a brunette woman kissed him on the cheek leaving fuchsia lipstick behind. Tommy quickly shut her down and moved to wipe the lipstick off his cheek.

“Alright did I miss anybody?” Silence. “No? Okay. Enjoy the show tonight you guys. Babe come on let’s go.”

Rayne walked through the crowd and took Tommy’s extended hand. As they began to step into the hotel Rayne heard a loud male voice from behind them. “Who would’ve thought my drum hero was into fat bitches.”

Tommy stopped dead in his tracks and Rayne tensed up. All the other band members that were present stilled and watched what was about to happen next. “Tommy, come on let’s just go.”

“No fuck that.” Tommy turned on his heel moving back toward the crowd which was now silent. “Who’s the tough guy? Say it to my face.”

“Tommy, come on.” Rayne urged.

“Come on, who said it?” Tommy looked like a feral animal in that moment. An equally tall cocky guy took a step forward.

“I said it.” He said. “A rockstar that could get grade A pussy and you choose that pig? Can you even feel anything when you stick it-“

He couldn’t finish the sentence before Tommy’s fist connected squarely with his jaw knocking him down on the ground with a bloody lip. Rayne let out a scream as soon as Tommy’s fist made contact. He rolled on the ground in pain while Tommy crouched down pulling him up by his hair making him look at Rayne. “She,” He pointed with his free hand. “Is Grade A pussy. And you couldn’t handle her in your wildest fucking dreams. Now I suggest you say you’re sorry.”

He let out another groan when Tommy yanked his hair harder. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Good boy. See was it worth being a fucking asshole?” Tommy spat shoving the guy away from him back on the pavement. Looking down next to him Tommy saw the vinyl Shout At The Devil he had signed. Picking up the vinyl record Tommy brought it down over his knee breaking it in two. “Learn a little fucking respect and don’t listen to my band anymore.” Tommy turned to Rayne taking a few long strides towards her taking her hand once more. “Come on babe, let’s go.”

They disappeared into the hotel leaving behind them a group of fans who were both in shock and some a little turned on by what they just witnessed. “Tommy while I appreciate you defending my honor and all you don’t need to punch people out. That kid could press charges against you!”

“That punk’s not going to do anything.” Tommy shrugged off Rayne’s concern. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled Tommy toward her.

“Tommy, look at me.” Rayne said sternly. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes before his chocolate brown eyes would meet her green ones. Rayne couldn’t help but think in the past few minutes she’d gotten a glimpse at what Tommy could be like when she wasn’t around. She saw how he could be called part of the “terror twins,” saw how he could be an absolute handful for Doc. Taking his face in her hands Rayne calmly said, “If you start punching out every person that says something bad about my looks, or my body, or me. Those talented hands of yours are going to be ruined by the end of the tour. Their words are just jealousy realized. You hear me?”

Tommy deeply exhaled resting his forehead against her own. Slowly he nodded.

“Everything okay here?” Doc walked up to them hotel room keys in hand.

“Yeah.” Rayne nodded holding her hand out for the key. “Everything’s good. Right Tommy?”

“Yeah, everything’s good.” Tommy repeated. Rayne could see he had finally calmed down.

“Alright, well luggage should already be in your rooms.” Doc announced to the band before he made his way off to the elevator.

“Come on, let’s go.” Rayne whispered taking Tommy’s hand and following Doc. Tommy kept his head down as you led him to your hotel room for the night. Stopping in front of the room that matched your key you inserted it and opened the door. It looked similar to the one from the night before, clean and awash with sunlight. Tommy took a seat his head in his hands.

“How do you deal with it?”

“Deal with what?” Rayne asked shrugging out of her leather jacket.

“With people saying horrible things about you like that? Fuck I felt a stab through my heart when I heard what he said. People can say whatever they want about me, but you? That’s over the line.” Rayne kneeled down and once again took Tommy’s face between her hands.

“Listen to me, people have been saying horrible things about me all my life. It’s easy to pick on my size because it’s obvious and I’m not built like a swimsuit model. That’s on them. I’m confident with my body, I know I do my best to be healthy and I have a sexy boyfriend that loves me just as I am.” She smiled brushing her nose against his. “Anything negative people have to say, they have to live with that. I quite like my life.”

“God I love you.” Tommy sighed wrapping his arms around her. In that moment Rayne realized she had seen the two sides of Tommy. She had seen Jekyll and Hyde. Now he was totally vulnerable and sweet, where as no more than an hour ago she saw how he could be a terror.

“And as long as you love me, no one could ever make me feel bad about myself.” Rayne smiled wide leaning in to kiss Tommy’s lips tenderly.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” Tommy apologized.

“I guess I finally met the terror twin I’ve heard so much about.” Rayne smiled and winked. “But seriously, don’t make punching people a habit. I don’t need to be getting phone calls from jail okay? And I’d prefer it if you trusted me enough to be the way you are with the band around me, you shouldn’t be two different people.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Well tour life is certainly eventful, Rayne thought to herself. And it’s only day two.

Take Me To The Next Chapter...

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So what did you think? Favorite bits? Things you’re looking forward to? Let me know and as always thanks so much for reading. Love you all to bits!!

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upontheshelfreviews · 4 years

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Last year I talked about Fantasia, which is not just one of my favorite Disney movies, but one of my favorite movies in general. And if I may be self-indulgent for a moment, it’s also one of the reviews that I’m the proudest of. Fantasia is a visual, emotional masterpiece that marries music and art in a manner few cinematic ventures have come close to replicating. One question that remains is what my thoughts on the long-gestated sequel is –

…you might wanna get yourselves some snacks first.

As anyone who read my review on the previous film knows, Fantasia was a project ahead of its time. Critics and audiences turned their noses up at it for conflicting reasons, and the film didn’t even make it’s budget back until twenty-something years later when they began marketing it to a very different crowd.

“I don’t wanna alarm you dude, but I took in some Fantasia and these mushrooms started dancing, and then there were dinosaurs everywhere and then they all died, but then these demons were flying around my head and I was like WOOOOOAAAHHH!!”

“Yeah, Fantasia is one crazy movie, man.”

“Movie?”

Fantasia’s unfortunate box office failure put the kibosh on Walt Disney’s plans to make it a recurring series with new animated shorts made to play alongside handpicked favorites. The closest he came to following through on his vision was Make Mine Music and Melody Time, package features of shorts that drew from modern music more than classical pieces.

Fast-forward nearly fifty years later to the golden age known as the Disney Renaissance: Walt’s nephew Roy E. Disney surveys the new crop of animators, storytellers, and artists who are creating hit after hit and have brought the studio back to his uncle’s glory days, and thinks to himself, “Maybe now we can make Uncle Walt’s dream come true.” He made a good case for it, but not everyone was on board. Jeffrey Katzenberg loathed the idea, partly because he felt the original Fantasia was a tough act to follow (not an entirely unreasonable doubt) but most likely due to the fact that the last time Disney made a sequel, The Rescuers Down Under, it drastically underperformed (even though the reasons for that are entirely Katzenberg’s fault. Seriously, watch Waking Sleeping Beauty and tell me you don’t want to punch him in the nose when Mike Gabriel recalls his opening weekend phone call).

Once Katzenberg was out of the picture, though, Fantasia 2000, then saddled with the less dated but duller moniker Fantasia Continued, got the go-ahead. Many of the sequences were made simultaneously as the animated features my generation most fondly remembers, others were created to be standalone shorts before they were brought into the fold. Since it was ready in time for the new millennium, it not only got a name change but a massive marketing campaign around the fact that it would be played on IMAX screens for a limited run, the very first Disney feature to do so. As a young Fantasia fan who had never been to one of those enormous theaters before, I begged and pleaded my parents to take me. Late that January, we traveled over to the IMAX theater at Lincoln Center, the only one nearest to us since they weren’t so widespread as they are now, and what an experience it was. I can still recall the feeling of awe at the climax of Pines of Rome, whispering eagerly with my mom at how the beginning of Rhapsody in Blue looked like a giant Etch-A-Sketch, and jumping twenty feet in the air when the Firebird’s massive eyes popped open. But did later viewings recapture that magic, or did that first time merely color my perception?

We open on snippets from the original Fantasia…IN SPAAAAAAAAACE!

It reminds me a little of the opening to Simply Mad About The Mouse, where bits of classic Disney nostalgia fly about to evoke the mood of this upcoming musical venture. In a clever conceit, snippets of Deems Taylor’s original opening narration explaining Fantasia’s intent and music types plays over the orchestra and animators materializing and gearing up for the first sequence, which jumps right into –

DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUUN – I mean, Symphony #5 – Ludwig Van Beethoven

Here, a bunch of butterflies flee and then fight off swarms of bats with the power of light – I can’t be the only one who saw these things and thought it was butterflies vs. bats, right?

It does look cool with its waterfalls and splashes of light and color bursting through the clouds, but this brings me to a bit of contention I have with the movie.

When I planned this review I was going to do a new version of “Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing”, except there were only four major complaints I could think of that. On further introspection, I admit they are legitimate grievances worth addressing. I’m going to get them out of the way all at once in order to keep things rolling.

#1 – This Seems Familiar…

Certain sequences are noticeably derivative from the first movie. It’s as if they were afraid of trying too many new things that would alienate audiences so they borrowed from their predecessor in an effort to say “Hey, we can do this too!” Symphony #5 is clearly trying to be Tocatta and Fugue with its abstract geometric shapes swooping all over to kick things off. Though I love how much character the animators managed to give two pairs of triangles, Tocatta’s soaring subconscious flights of fancy leaves me more enthralled. Carnival of the Animals literally began as a sequel to Dance of the Hours until the ostriches became flamingoes. And Roy E. Disney openly stated he wanted the last sequence, The Firebird Suite to have the same death and rebirth theme as Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria, which they got, right down to a terrifying symbol of destruction emerging from a mountain to wreak chaos.

‘Sup, witches?

#2 – Too Short

Speaking of repeating the past, the original idea for Fantasia 2000 was to follow Walt’s vision in that three favorite segments would make a return amongst the newer ones – the Nutcracker Suite, which was eventually cut for time, Dance of the Hours, which I’ve already stated morphed into Carnival of the Animals, and finally, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, the obvious choice to keep since that’s the most popular piece out of any of them. Cutting things for time doesn’t make that much sense, however, when you realize that Fantasia 2000’s runtime is only 75 minutes. A very short animated film by today’s standards that lasts barely half as long as its previous installment. I don’t see why they couldn’t keep at least one other sequence from the first Fantasia to make things last a little longer and keep in the original idea’s spirit.

#3 – All Story, No Experimentation

Unlike the first Fantasia, all of the sequences have a linear narrative structure that’s easy to follow. Not a bad thing and kudos to you if you’re among that group who prefers Fantasia 2000 for because of that, but again, I admire how the original film didn’t stick to a coherent story the whole time; how it was unafraid to let the music, atmosphere, and visuals speak for itself without sticking to a three-act plot and designated protagonist for every piece.

#4 – The One You’ve Been Waiting For, The Host Segments

One of the things that turned Fantasia off for its detractors was Deems Taylor’s seemingly dry narration. But maybe Fantasia 2000 can fix that with some folks who are hip and with it, perhaps a wild and crazy guy or two…

Eh, he’ll do.

Now, the idea of varying segment hosts isn’t an altogether bad idea. Most of them work well: Angela Lansbury gives the lead-in to the Firebird Suite plenty of gravitas befitting the finale, as do Ithzak Perlman, Quincy Jones, and James Earl Jones, who build plenty of intrigue for Pines of Rome, Rhapsody in Blue and Carnival of the Animals respectively; this seriousness makes James’ reaction to what the Carnival segment is really about a successful comic subversion. Even Penn and Teller for all their obnoxiousness kind of works with The Sorcerer’s Apprentice due to the linking magic theme.

I suppose what turns people off is the self-congratulatory tone and seemingly forced attempts at comedy you get from Martin, Penn, Teller, and Bette Midler. But you know what? They still make me laugh after all these years (well, you have to laugh at Bette Midler’s antics or she’ll come after you when the Black Flame Candle is lit). In fact, I have to hand it to Midler’s intro in particular. Fantasia 2000 came out right around the time I began taking a keen interest in what animation really was and how it was made. For me, her preceding The Steadfast Tin Soldier piece with tidbits about Fantasia segments that didn’t make it past the drawing board was like the first free hit that turned me into an animation junkie (plus this was before you could look up anything on the topic in extraneous detail on the internet, so it had that going for it). If I have to nitpick, though, The Divine Miss M referring to Salvador Dalí as “the melting watches guy” is a bit reductive. That’d be like calling Babe Ruth “the baseball guy” or Walt Disney “the mouse and castle guy”. Plus, Dalí and Disney were close compadres with a layered history. They planned on many collaborations, though the fruit of their labors, Destino, would not be completed in either of their lifetimes. Couldn’t show just a modicum of respect there, Bette?

Ahhh! I take it back! Don’t steal my soul!

So, I wouldn’t say I hate or even completely dislike the host segments. Sorry to disappoint everyone who was hoping for me to rip into them. They’re not awful, just uneven. And if you think they ruin the movie for me, you’ve got another think coming.

Pines of Rome – Ottorino Respighi

The idea for Pines of Rome’s visuals came about due to an unusual detail in some concept art. Someone noticed that a particular cloud in a painting of the night sky heavily resembled a flying whale. So why make a short about flying whales? The better question would be why NOT make a short about flying whales? A supernova in the night sky miraculously gives some whales the ability to swim through the air over the icy seas. Again, seeing this in IMAX was incredible. There’s just one minor issue I have with. This and another segment were developed well before Pixar made its silver screen debut, and unfortunately, it shows twenty years later; the worst cases are the close-ups.

Okay, who put googly eyes on the moldy beanbag?

There are ways of blending CGI and hand-drawn animation well, and this isn’t one of them. I understand the necessity of having expressive eyes but simply dropping one on top of a CGI creature gives it a bit of an uncanny valley feel. They should have either stuck with traditional all the way or made the whales entirely CG. The CG animation of the whales themselves isn’t too shabby, so they could have pulled it off.

Because simply giving whales flight apparently isn’t enough to hold an audience’s interest, we have an adorable baby whale earning his wings, so to speak. Once he gets his bearings above the surface, he swoops ahead of his family and bothers a flock of seagulls. They chase him into a collapsing iceberg, leaving him trapped, alone and unable to fly. The quiet dip in the music combined with the image of this lost little calf adds some genuine emotional weight to this piece. The baby navigates the iceberg’s claustrophobic caverns until he finds a crevice that elevates him back to his worried parents. From there a whole pod of whales rises out of the ocean to join them as they fly upwards to the supernova’s source.

“So long, and thanks for all the krill!”

As the music reaches its brilliant crescendo, the whales plow through storm clouds until they reach the top of the world and breach through the stars like water. It’s an awe-inspiring climax of a short that, flaws and all, reminds you of what Fantasia is all about.

Majestic.

Rhapsody in Blue – George Gershwin

The music of jazz composer George Gershwin? Timeless. The art of renowned caricaturist Al Hirschfeld? Perfection. All this brought to life with the best animation Disney has to offer? It’s a match made in heaven. Eric Goldberg, who animated the Genie among other comedic characters, idolized Hirschfeld and drew plenty of inspiration from drawings, so getting to work alongside him while making this was nothing short of a dream come true. That attention to detail in rendering Hirschfeld’s trademark curvy two-dimensional style goes beyond mere homage. It is a love letter to a great artist that encapsulates everything about him and his craft, and to a great city that we both had the honor of calling home. The story goes that Goldberg screened the final product for Hirschfeld shortly before his 96th birthday and his wife told him after that it was the best gift he could have ever received.

All this to say I am quite fond of this particular short, thank you very much.

The piece follows four characters navigating 1930’s Manhattan and crossing paths over the course of a single day:

Duke, a construction worker torn between his steady, monotonous job and following his dream of drumming in a jazz band,

Joe, a victim of the Great Depression desperately looking for work,

Rachel, a little girl who wants to spend time with her parents but is forced to attend lesson after lesson by her strict governess,

and “Flying” John, a henpecked husband longing to be free from his overbearing wife –

And her little dog too!

By the way, John is modeled in name and in looks after Disney animation historian John Culhane, who also was the inspiration for The Rescuers’ Mr. Snoops, hence why the two look so similar. He’s not the only name who appears in this sequence: Gershwin himself makes a surprise cameo as he takes over Rachel’s piano solo halfway through the story.

Speaking of, my family used to compare me to Rachel because at that point in my young life I was doing or already did the same mandatory activities as she – swimming, ballet, music, sports, all with the same amount of speed and varying degrees of success.

No one can argue that art is where we both excelled, however.

The physical timing of Rhapsody in Blue’s animation is hilarious, though it doesn’t rely wholly on slapstick for its humor. The sight gags and clever character dynamics all weaved into the music milk plenty of laughs, and envelop you in this living, breathing island that is Manhattan.

I speak from experience, this is the most accurate depiction of commuting on the 1 train that there ever was.

Even with such a premise and two masters of combining comedy and art, there is still enough pathos to keep the story rooted. Take when all four characters are at their lowest point. They look down on some skaters in Rockefeller Center and picture themselves in their place fulfilling their deepest desires. Seeing their dreams so close in their minds and yet so far away while paired with the most stirring part of the score is heartwrenching.

In the end, things pick up as the characters unwittingly solve each other’s problems. Duke quits the construction site, leaving an opening for Joe to fill. Joe accidentally snags John’s wife on a hook and hauls her screaming into the air, allowing him one night of uninhibited fun at the club where Duke performs.

“Anyone hear something? Nah, it’s probably just me.”

Rachel loses her ball while fighting with her nanny, which Duke bounces off the window of her parents’ office, which in turn gets them to notice their daughter about to run into traffic and they save her. Everyone gets their happy ending and it ends on a spectacularly glamorous shot of Time Square lit up in all its frenetic neon glory.

And not a single knockoff costumed character hitting up tourists for photos. Those were the days, my friend.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I adore Rhapsody in Blue. It’s easily my favorite part of the movie; a blissful ménage-a-trois of art style, music and storytelling, and it’s so New York that the only New York things I could think of that are missing are Central Park and amazing bagels. This sequence is gut-busting, energized, emotional, and mesmerizing in its form. I don’t often say I love a piece of animation so much that I’d marry it, but when I do, it’s often directed at Rhapsody in Blue.

Piano Concerto #2 – Dmitri Shostakovich (aka The One With The Steadfast Tin Soldier)

This piece has an interesting history attached to it. Disney wanted to do an animated film surrounding Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales – including The Little Mermaid and The Steadfast Tin Soldier – as far back as the 30’s, but the project fell by the wayside. During Fantasia 2000’s production, Roy E. Disney asked if they could do something with Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto #2 since he and his daughter were attached to that piece. He looked over sketches and storyboards made for the unrealized Tin Soldier sequence and discovered the music matched in perfect time with the story.

This is the second sequence that features CGI at the forefront. Unlike Pines of Rome, though, it works because the main characters are toys, and you can get away with your early CGI looking shiny and metallic and plastic-like when you’re animating toys.

Hell, it worked for Pixar.

The story centers on a tin soldier cast with only one leg who is shunned by his comrades for routinely throwing off their groove. He falls in love with a porcelain ballerina when he mistakes her standing en pointe as her also missing a limb. Despite his embarrassment when he learns the truth, the ballerina is enamored with him as well. This rouses the jealousy of an evil jack-in-the-box who I swear is a caricature of Jeffrey Katzenberg minus the glasses but with a goatee and Lord Farquaad wig.

“MUST. CHOP. EVERYTHING!!!”

The jack-in-the-box and the soldier duke it out for a bit before the former sends the latter flying out the window in a little wooden boat. The boat floats the soldier into the sewers and attracts a horde of angry rats who attack him, because animated rodents seem to have a natural hatred towards toy soldiers.

Case in point.

The soldier hurtles into the sea where he’s eaten by a fish – which is caught the following morning, packed up to be sold at market, bought by the cook who works at the very house he came from, and he falls out of the fish’s mouth on the floor where his owner finds him and places him back with the rest of the toys. Now the story this is based on hints that the jack-in-the-box is really a goblin who orchestrates the soldier’s misfortunes with his malicious magic. But based the extremely coincidental circumstances of his return home, I’d say the soldier’s the one who’s got some reality-warping tricks up his sleeve.

The soldier and jack-in-the-box duel again that evening, but this time the harlequin harasser falls into the fireplace and burns up. Our hero gets the girl and lives happily ever after. A nice conclusion, though a far cry from what happened in the original tale: the ballerina is knocked into the fire, the soldier jumps in after her, and all that remains of them by morning is some melted tin in the shape of a heart. I gotta say, for all my love of classic fairytales, Disney made the right call. Andersen’s life was far from magical and it reflected in his stories, making many of them depressing for no good reason. The triumphant note the music ends on also would have clashed horribly if they stuck with the original. Even the Queen of Denmark agreed with Disney’s decision to soften their adaptations of Andersen’s work. I don’t know if I’d call The Steadfast Tin Soldier one of my very favorite parts of Fantasia 2000, but in the end, s’all right.

Carnival of the Animals: Finale – Camille Sant-Saëns

This shortest of shorts (clocking in at less than two minutes) kicks off with James Earl Jones asking with as much seriousness as he can muster from the situation, what would happen if you gave a yo-yo to a flock of flamingos?

The answer –

Good answer!

Fie on those who dismiss this part as a silly one-off that doesn’t belong here. Fie, I say! It’s a pure delight full of fun expressions and fluid fast-paced action. Once again we have my man Eric Goldberg to thank for this, though this time he animated it entirely by himself. I’d call it a one-man show except for the fact that his wife Susan handpainted the entire thing with watercolor, making it look like it sprung to life straight from a paintbrush. It’s a simple diversion about a flamingo who wants to play with his yo-yo while the other snooty members of his flock try to force him to conform. As you can see from the still, they fail quite epically. Nothing beats the power of nonconformity and yo-yos (also every yo-yo move featured here is authentic; I love when animators go that extra mile).

The Sorcerer’s Apprentice plays next, but since I already touched on that in the first Fantasia review, I’m skipping over it. The segment ends with Mickey congratulating Leopold Stokowski (again), then crossing the barriers of time and space to inform the conductor, James Levine, that he needs to track down the star of the next segment, Donald Duck. Levine stalls by explaining a bit about what’s to come while Mickey frantically searches for his errant costar. The surround sound sells the notion of him moving around the back of the theater accidentally causing mischief all the while. Thankfully, Donald is found and the sequence commences.

Pomp and Circumstance – Edward Elgar

This famous piece of music was included at the insistence of Michael Eisner after he attended his son’s graduation ceremony. He wanted to feature a song that everyone was already familiar with. Of course, since this was after Frank Well’s untimely passing and no one was bold enough to temper Eisner’s worst instincts with common sense, his original pitch had every animated couple Disney created up to that point marching on to Noah’s Ark – and then marching out with their babies.

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Okay, A: Unless you’re doing a groin hit joke or are Ralph Bakshi or R. Crum, cartoon characters don’t have junk as a rule. And B, one of the unwritten rules of Disney animation is that barring kids that already exist like the titular 101 Dalmatians or Duchess’ kittens, the established canon couples do not in any official capacity have children.

To which Eisner laughed maniacally and vowed that they would.

But in order to placate Eisner’s desire to turn every branch of the Disney corporation into a commercial for itself, the animators compromised and agreed to do Pomp and Circumstance with the Noah’s Ark theme, BUT with only one couple – Donald and Daisy Duck. In this retelling of the biblical tale, Donald acts as Noah’s beleaguered assistant (I guess Shem, Ham, and Japheth were too busy rounding up the endangered species). Daisy provides emotional support while preparing to move on to the ark as well. It’s refreshing to see these two not losing their temper at each other for a change. I wish we got to see this side of their relationship more often. Donald returns Daisy’s easily lost plot device locket to her and as the rain rain rain comes down down down, he starts directing the animals on board; the lions, the tigers, the bears, the…ducks?

Anyway, all the animals and Donald get on board – well, most of them do.

The world’s first climate change deniers.

Donald realizes Daisy hasn’t arrived yet and runs out to look for her, unaware that she’s already boarded. Daisy sees Donald leaving but is too late to stop him before the first floodwaters hit their home. Donald made it back to the ark in time, however, though both of them believe that the other is forever lost to them. I find it astounding that they never run into each other not even once during the forty days and forty nights they’re cooped up on that boat. It’s the American Tail cliche all over again, and well, at least it’s happening in a short and not the entire movie.

Soon the ark lands atop Mount Ararat and the animals depart in greater numbers than when they embarked on their singles cruise. Daisy realizes halfway down the mountain that she’s lost her locket again, which Donald finds at that very moment while sweeping up, and the two are joyously reunited.

“I thought you were dead!” “I thought YOU were dead!”

I kid around, but I truly enjoy this short a lot. There’s so much warmth to Donald and Daisy’s relationship that makes their reunion at the end all the sweeter, and there’s plenty of great slapstick to offset the drama in the meantime. I will admit it’s nice to hear there’s more to Pomp And Circumstance than just the famous march, and the entire suite matches flawlessly with the visuals, though the main theme itself is so ingrained into the public consciousness that it’s difficult to extricate it from that what we’ve seen accompany it countless times.

Come on, you all know what I’m talking about.

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“What? Don’t tell me YOU don’t think of heads exploding like fireworks when you hear Pomp and Circumstance! Name one other life-changing moment could you possibly associate it with…you weirdo.”

The Firebird Suite – Igor Stravinsky

Fantasia 2000 comes to a close with a piece that has some emotional resonance if you know your history. You might remember from my first Fantasia review that Igor Stravinsky was disappointed with how Rite of Spring turned out, especially since he was a big admirer of Walt Disney and really wanted to do more projects with him beforehand. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that they picked his premiere ballet to end the movie on decades later. After all these years, Disney worked hard to do right by Stravinsky – with a few twists, though. Instead of a balletic retelling of Russian folktales involving kidnapped princesses and immortal sorcerers, we have a fantastical allegory for the circle of life.

No, not that circle of life.

A lone elk who I’m fairly convinced is the Great Prince of the Forest walks through the forest in the dead of winter. With his breath, he awakens the spirit of the woods and one of the most beautiful characters Disney has ever created, the Spring Sprite.

I. Love. This character. Her design is gorgeous, shifting from a shimmery opalescent blue as she steps out of the water into an eternally flowing fount of live greenery spreading from her hair in her wake. Wherever she moves, grass, flowers, and trees blossom, fulfilling the idea of a springtime goddess more than Disney’s own Goddess of Spring ever did. The Sprite was a massive influence in developing my art style, particularly in her face and expressive eyes, and I used to draw her a lot. Visit any relative of mine and chances are you’ll find a picture of her by me hanging up on a wall somewhere in their house. Yet there’s far more to her character than just a pretty representation of nature; there’s plenty of curiosity, spunk, determination, and a drive for creativity. I love her frustrated expression when she’s dissatisfied with the tiny flower she sculpts out of the ground and how her face lights up when she morphs it into a buttercup as tall as she is.

The Sprite paints the forest with all the colors of the wind (mostly green) until she reaches a mountain that isn’t affected by her magic. Perplexed, she climbs it until she finds a large hunched over rock figure – or is it an egg? – standing inside. She reaches out to touch it and…

The Sprite has awakened her counterpart, the wrathful and deadly Firebird. Think giant evil phoenix made of smoke, flame and lava. And it goes without saying that seeing this on the biggest screen left quite the terrifying impact. One of the biggest inspirations for this sequence was the eruption of Mount St. Helens (though the shot of the Sprite surveying the breadth of the Firebird’s destruction reminds me far too much of the Australian bushfires going on) and the sheer horror of nature’s irrepressible chaos is fully captured here. But the Firebird refuses to settle for merely destroying the Sprite’s handiwork, oh no. It won’t rest until creation itself is consumed, and the Sprite is reduced to a powerless mite as she scrabbles to escape the Firebird’s relentless pursuit of her. Try as she might, however, the towering monster corners and devours her in one fell swoop.

The forest is reduced to gray ashes in the wake of the Firebird’s rampage, but the Great Prince has survived. Once again he brings the Sprite to life with his breath, only this time she is tiny and weak (the animation of her slowly developing from the ash into her huddled ragged form is breathtaking). Now, I didn’t think I’d get emotional revisiting a small part of a single movie I’ve rewatched countless times before but viewing this through a mature eye combined with the beauty of the Firebird Suite’s climax and its timely message has caused me to see it in a new light:

The Sprite is utterly broken by what she’s been through and the destruction she carelessly caused. She’s lost all faith in herself and in the idea of returning the forest to what it once was. Even so, the Prince gently insists on carrying her on his antlers to the remains of their favorite cherry blossom tree. Where her tears fall, grass shoots begin to sprout. This fills the Sprite with hope, and she soars into the air becoming one with the sky and rains life down on the forest. New trees burst from the earth. The air is filled with leaves and pollen and new life flowing from her essence. The Sprite’s joy and power grow so strong that she even encircles the Firebird’s mountain in all her verdant glory. Life and creation overcome death and destruction. It’s not Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria, but it’s close.

And unfortunately, that’s the biggest problem Fantasia 2000 has.

While working on the original Fantasia, a storyman made the mistake of referring to the work they were doing in “the cartoon medium” in Walt’s presence. Walt turned on him and snapped “This is NOT ‘the cartoon medium’. It should not be limited to cartoons. We have worlds to conquer.”

And conquer they did…just not the way Walt intended.

The point I’m trying to make is Walt was breaking new ground and experimenting with things nobody ever tried when it came to Fantasia. While those risks were initially deemed a failure, it eventually gained the recognition it deserved from the animation and filmmaking community. Any attempt to recreate the magic of Fantasia is no small feat. But rather than taking new risks that not even the first film dared, the studio opted to adhere to Fantasia’s formula with pieces that recall if not flat out copy from the original segments. I hesitate to call it a pale imitation or cash grab however because this was done for the art much more than the money (though Eisner was probably hoping it would bring in some bank). There’s even a little bit of depth to it: while the first Fantasia had themes of differing natures in conflict – light vs. dark, fire vs. water, etc. – Fantasia 2000’s theme is accidental but brilliantly meta: CGI vs. traditional animation, a conflict Disney would become very familiar with in the decade following the film’s release. In some ways, it reminds me of Epcot’s genesis. The driving force behind it was long gone, but the attempt to bring it to life as close to the original vision as possible is still much appreciated.

For all my gripes, I really do enjoy Fantasia 2000. Perhaps not on the same level as its predecessor, but it has its moments, oh yes. And believe me, as far as Disney sequels go, you could do far, far, far worse than this one. Fantasia 2000 is Fantasia’s kid sister mimicking its beloved older sibling in an attempt to show it can be cool like the big kids too. But hey, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this review, please consider supporting this misfit on Patreon. Patreon supporters receive great perks such as extra votes for movie reviews, movie requests, early sneak-peeks and more! If I can hit my goal of $100 a month, I can go back to weekly tv series reviews. As of now, I’m only $20 away! Special thanks to Amelia Jones, Gordhan Rajani and Sam Minden for their contributions! I’ll see you in a few weeks when I and review the 1959 Disney animated classic, Sleeping Beauty!

Artwork by Charles Moss.

Screencaps from animationscreencaps.com

Yes, I know The Lion King and Lady and the Tramp ended with the titular characters having babies, but was there anyone out there apart from Eisner who demanded there be sequels to those films that focused on their offspring?

January Review: Fantasia 2000 Last year I talked about Fantasia, which is not just one of my favorite Disney movies, but one of my favorite movies in general.

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wall-krawler · 5 years

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Spidersona Week! Day 5: Archenemy (Minor ish spoilers)

“Every hero has an opposite. The yang to the yin. The antagonist to the protagonist. Basically the big bad pulling the strings behind the curtain. And even though I’m a newbie I was no exception to this universal rule.”

Marcus recalls the many times he’s gotten laid out by Peter’s original rogues galley. Electro fried his brains once, sandman got himself all cozy in Marcus’ boots, and even Mysterio gave a strong right hook with floating boxing gloves. But those were joke villains, they never actually tried to kill him until he met Tombstone...

“L. Thompson Lincoln. Pale skin, sharp teeth, and a strange taste for dark suits. He’s the white shark who runs illegal activities while playing dolphin with the press. He’s fooled the whole city with donations and forced smiles but they weren’t enough to fool me.”

Marcus had taken notes on the whispers he heard throughout the city. The goons too scared to say the name of the man they feared. It took multiple nights and a few torn up bars to figure out who was in control of the underground businesses. With Peter worrying about Fisk Marcus figured he’d take down Lincoln and prove his worth. If only he knew it wouldn’t be easy...

“With a name like Lonnie I thought he’d be easy pickings. A pale guy in a suit shouldn’t be able to handle someone with spider strength. But I learned the hard way that Lincoln didn’t enjoy playing games.”

🕷🕷🕷🕷

The penthouse was nice. Large open living room, a piano in the far corner, and expensive paintings hung all along the walls. Marcus expected something fancy but this wasn’t what he envisioned.

Scaling up the building was easy and getting inside the home was even easier. The window was simply unlocked, meaning Lincoln must feel pretty comfortable in his own home. But when Marcus though he’d gotten in without tipping anyone off the main doors slammed open to reveal two beefy guards. They wore matching suits and carried some type of batons. Apparently they were the sparking kind.

Marcus glared at them but easily avoided their random swings, using his lean body to slip through the gaps between themselves. But not wanting to fool around Marcus quickly grabbed one of the men and webbed his hands together before throwing him towards the ceiling, firing more webbing to keep him up there. As for the second guard Marcus flawlessly jumped over him just fire two more Web lines at their back. As he was coming down he used his momentum to pick the guard off his feet and harshly slammed him into his stomach, knocking him unconscious.

“I’m not here to put the kids to bed. I want to know where Lincoln is.” Marcus demanded the first guard after jumping to the ceiling to start questing the outmatched goon. But before the man could get a word out a more deeper but calm voice spoke up, drawing in Marcus’ attention.

“You know I do take appointments. I dislike making people search for me.” Lincoln walked out from a corner with a blank expression. Unlike the guards he wore a more sleeker and expensive black suit. The rings on his fingers shined as the light reflected off them. Even from on the ceiling Marcus could tell this man was tall.

Abandoning the webbed up guard Marcus dropped to the ground to crouch a few inches away from Lincoln. “Yeah, and I dislike having to chase goons down on a weekend but here I am.”

Lincoln’s expression didn’t change as Marcus sassed him. His patients was one of his best traits. “What do you want Spider-Man?”

“The thugs on the streets gave you up, they revealed the true crime lord you keep hidden behind those fancy suits.” The young hero tried to make himself sound older and intimidating but it wasn’t exactly working the way he wanted. Even as he stood up to face off against Lincoln he realized that being 5’10 wasn’t really that tall. “I want you to cut all ties with the criminal empire. Including ones with Wilson Fisk.”

Lincoln actually reacted to that in a subtle way. He raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised that Marcus would know about their secretive partnership.

“This is the only warning I’m giving you Shark Bait. Back off or I’ll take you down.” Marcus clenches his fists and steps closer, letting himself become fully serious.

Lincoln’s sharp teeth pop out as he clenches them together, a glare forming onto his face. “I’ve been called many things throughout the years,” he too steps forward which makes Marcus take a step back, “but my favorite is Tombstone.” And with that being said he lunges at Marcus!

Even with spider sense going off Marcus wasn’t quick enough to avoid the right hook that had him seeing stars. Even as he stumbles back two more hits blindside him enough for Tombstone to kick him across the room.

Landing on a couch Marcus eyes widen as he sees Tombstone lift the entire thing up just to throw him across the room again. Luckily though he springs off the furniture to go into a swing, sticking out both his legs to kick the larger foe. But instead Tombstone grabs both his legs out of mid swing and slams him against a wall, sending cracks trailing up it. Without wasting time Tombstone did it again but this time slamming the poor hero right on top of the piano.

“I’ve had tougher men threaten me. Every single one of them thought they could cap me.” Tombstone released his grip on Marcus to tower over him yet again, cracking his knuckles. “The only thing they had in common was how they perished by my hands.”

Marcus winces but gets the energy to fire a shot of webbing into Tombstone’s face, blinding him for a hot second. With a strong push he’s able to jump out of the dent his body created in the instrument and deliver a more successful double kick. Tombstone falls into a wall and Marcus uses the opportunity to get in a few of his own hits. He gets in one good hook and uppercut before Tombstone slams his head against Marcus’.

“You just don’t get it kid.” Tombstone rips the webbing from his face before delivering a ground pound on Marcus, dropping him onto all fours. “I’ve gone toe to toe with the real Spider-Man and he’s never defeated me.”

Marcus tries to throw a punch but it’s caught by Tombstone easily. He squeezes hard enough to cause the hero to yell out in pain but not enough to break it. After all, this was the warning.

“Agh...shut up, I can beat-“ Marcus was interrupted by Tombstone heel kicking him through the air just to be stopped by the patio’s glass doors.

With body going numb Marcus simply went limp when the villain grabbed him by the neck and slammed him against the glass door, causing it to crack on impact. He would have lost all the air in his lungs if Tombstone wasn’t squeezing his neck so tightly.

A small grin forms when Marcus claws at Lincoln’s arm, trying hard to escape. Like a trapped bug. “Stick to the sidelines kid. Rough up a few bullies and save cats from Trees. Because as far as I can tell, you’re out of your league.”

With one last grunt Tombstone pulls Marcus back and slams him through the glass doors, shattering it into a million pieces. With little effort he tosses the young spider into the night sky to let him tumble through the air. He watched until the darkness swallowed up the defeated Spider-Man...

🕷🕷🕷🕷(Headcanons)

- Tombstone just as danger as Wilson Fisk. Due to playing the “victim” card the public doesn’t suspect illegal activities to be linked to him.

- Tombstone’s very daughter is secretly a villain as well, following in her fathers footsteps but not becoming as ruthless.

- His daughter actually has a minor crush on Marcus (whaaa spoilers)

- Tombstone doesn’t have the unbreakable skin like Luke cage but he is in fact overly strong and durable.

- Tombstone did in fact take down peter multiple times but out of respect he did hold back on doing violent crime. He’s now strictly a business man avoiding getting too much blood on his hands.

- Marcus only goes after Tombstone because he wants to help his mom rest up on some very draining cases.

🕸🕸🕸🕸

A/N: Sooo Tombstone has always been one of my favorite villains. Every since I was a kid Lonnie Thompson Lincoln was the coolest pale faced-leather wearing mercenary ever. I only began to love him more after the spectacular Spider-Man cartoon which I based this version of him off of. Except here he’s more violent and deadly, matching Fisk’s brutality while keeping his calm personality. But in the end I can only thank @spideymultiverse so much for making this week amazing. You’ve helped me construct this Spidersona with your prompts and that’s the best thing ever. I hope everyone reading this enjoys the story, I wouldn’t be anything without you guys.

#spidersona week 2k19 #spidersona #fanfic #spidersona week #Tombstone

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