#except the first is reinforced as being good and the second is more obvious damaging
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C!Pearl’s a character who people usually only analyze from DL onwards, with her Scarlet Pearl arc influencing future seasons. However, I think it’s very important to look at LL when talking about her, since that season formed a lot of her fundamental viewpoints in this game, viewpoints she’s forced to unpack in later seasons.
LL was the most chaotic and violent season BY FAR, even including LimL! The deaths in LimL were very much gamified, while in LL every life counted. The main lesson the three newcomers learned is that the world is cruel and they can never truly trust anyone. Well, except Pearl didn’t learn that second lesson
Mumbo and Lizzie both spent LL in a constant state of either panic or confusion, with there being a few very brief breaks between. This is the case for LL in general, but with the newcomers it’s so much more startling. They don’t know how this goes, and they see Experienced players paranoid alongside them.
Not to mention Mumbo and Lizzie were constantly put in situations where they couldn’t trust the people around them, whether it be because of a boogeyman or any other reason. With them being in a group of 4-5 people, there was a much higher chance of them being betrayed and they never let themselves relax
Pearl definitely experienced the same panic and confusion, but she adapted much quicker than they did. This is mostly due to Scott being her ally- him being pretty consistent and calm as a person. Not to mention, Pearl only had a single person to worry about, when other alliances had 4-5 people to consider. Any one of them could turn and still have a place with the other members, but a group of two didn’t
(Also sidebar, 3L turned into a game of factions, so in LL everyone immediately started with factions, the exceptions being Ren, Lizzie, Pearl, and Scott. Ren was recovering from his Red King arc and ashamed of his former self, while Pearl and Lizzie were new and hadn’t been adopted into a group like Mumbo had. Scott’s reasoning for picking a small group is that he only stayed safe in 3L when him and Jimmy were fairly isolated, so that’s why he will usually opt for a group of two. Anyways)
Since Scott Only had her, he wasn’t about to turn on her and Pearl knew this. When Cleo later joins the group, she isn’t a risk either due to the circumstances of her joining. Cleo was betrayed, they were killed by a boogeyman in their group. BigB’s betrayal hit so hard that Cleo named him her sworn enemy. Why would they turn on Pearl if this affected them so much? Pearl is able to lean on them comfortably, even as the rest of the server begins to target the alliance (for a green name I might add! Pearl was safest for the longest amount of time this season)
Pearl could trust her team, and her team was honestly well provided for. They had nether goods, they had a spawner, Pearl had enough lives to keep them stable for a few deaths. They’d managed to defend themselves against Constant invasions and weren’t backing down anytime soon.
As for others, Pearl only ever saw them if they wanted to rob her or kill her, having very few interactions outside of that. This establishes that theft and threats are one and the same, with robberies threatening their resources and their survival and threats being, well, threats
The main lesson Pearl learns here is that her team are the only people she can trust, and she trusts them wholeheartedly. They will always have her back, they will always steer her in the right direction. The world is hostile, but they’ll face it together. What Pearl doesn’t learn is impulse control. Her impulse control came in the form of Scott and Cleo, with them being much more cautious than she is
Because of them, Pearl made it to the final four in her FIRST SEASON. This is incredibly impressive, Especially considering how, again, LL was the most violent and chaotic season. She might’ve fallen in the final melee, but she rested easy knowing her teammate won. She had gotten him there, and counts it as a personal victory
When DL rolls around, Pearl employs the same tactics as the last season. LL had a very quick race for resources at the start, specifically for sugar cane and goods from the nether. So Pearl assumes it’s the same thing. She’s preparing for the same chaotic environment as LL and is reassured by the soulmate feature
In her mind, her soulmate is her one designated ally. She trusts them wholeheartedly and assumes they feel the same. No matter what they face, she knows they’ll face it together
Except that isn’t what happens
As it turns out, Scott was her soulmate. But she overlooked one key detail about him- Scott plays it safe. He doesn’t endanger himself unless absolutely necessary. She’d previously assumed it was a matter of practicality, but really it’s a means of defending his own peace above all else, even at the expense of others
So her little trip to the nether with Martyn didn’t just endanger them, it endangered their soulmates. It endangered Cleo and it endangered Scott
Their response is to abandon their soulmates because they felt abandoned. They don’t feel that they can trust their soulmates because of the fact that said soulmates were prioritizing a dangerous mission over them. Except Pearl doesn’t understand this. All she sees is that they abandoned her after she went on a dangerous mission For Them, a mission she would have been previously praised for
Pearl is dropped by the very people she trusted with her life last season, and she doesn’t know Why. To say this crushes her is an understatement
It wasn’t just a rejection from her former friends, it’s a betrayal of a fundamental worldview she developed last season. How could a group that was basically family abandon her just like that? If her designated ally wanted nothing to do with her, then whats the point in trusting anyone?
That last question is pushed to the side, with her insisting on Tilly being her true soulmate. Tilly would never abandon her, she can trust Tilly wholeheartedly. Except Tilly dies almost immediately afterwards, starting her Scarlet Pearl arc
(And I do want to say, I consider Tilly to be fully Dead. The second wolf was a different wolf entirely, but Pearl was in a state of delirium and wanted so badly to have someone to rely on. If it couldn’t be another player, then it would be her dog. Funnily enough, this actually comes up later but that’s an asterisk*)
This arc was basically a constant downwards spiral for Pearl. Any foundation she had was immediately uprooted, any alliance she formed immediately fell apart. This stressed her out to the point she wasn’t sleeping and frequently acted out against the people in her surroundings. Pearl was not maintaining herself in the slightest, her mental state affecting those around her. The main examples I can think of is her stealing horses and sitting in powdered snow to punish Scott, both of which do have explanations
Again, Pearl is basing her actions off of LL, even if she doesn’t realize it. Her alliance was robbed over and over again, usually for things like sugar cane and nether goods. These are things that are high value because they help a team survive. When it comes to pets and livestock, they really weren’t considered unless they were being held ransom. In LL, being stolen from was a threat to someone’s survival
Except this isn’t LL and Pearl is just starting to realize that, with every alliance being stable from an outside perspective. She’s using these thefts to test the waters. If something happens, she’s right to be paranoid and right to lash out. If nothing happens, she can relax, which she does! After stealing Scar’s horse she does briefly stop tormenting the server, instead going back to watching the others.
(^^ I might have the timeline wrong here btw it’s been a second)
As for Scott, her sitting in powdered snow has different connotations than it does for other alliances. She isn’t the only person to hurt her soulmate in this way, Scar actually being the one to suggest this. For Scar it was a harmless but irritating way to get back at Grian for kicking out the Jellie Pandas. It hurt, but it wasn’t meant to actually endanger the other (still abuse btw, just a different kind). For Pearl, her sitting in powdered snow was a tactic intended to make Scott feel unsafe. If he valued his precious security so much that he kicked her to the wolves, then she won’t let him have a moment’s peace.
But going back to the horses- stealing Ren and BigB’s horse was the moment things changed for her. This theft resulted in both of them dying, confirming the idea that thefts threaten someone’s survival. Except Pearl never meant to endanger them, as shown with her defending their items when none other than Scott and Cleo come to scavenge them.
When Ren and BigB return, it’s Pearl who gets blamed for the death, not the circumstances. The blame shifts from the world being cruel, to Pearl herself being cruel. Pearl is unable to cope with this, isolating in response. She sees every other pair finding peace and joy in one another, but she destroys everything she touches. In her mind, she IS the cruelty that exists in the world and nobody is coming to save her.
I think Pearl actually blames herself for Ren and BigB falling apart, which she finds out about when Ren and Martyn “summon” her. This actually affirms the lesson she Just learned, with her accepting the role of Scarlet Pearl. Previously, it was just an act but now it felt more real
She goes on to purposefully endanger others, seeing this as her true role on the server. Pearl had been wearing her red skin before this, but that was only to show her state of mind. Now, she was fully playing into this role, as seen with the fishing rod incident and, again, stealing armor from Boat Boys as a means of threatening their survival
I don’t think Pearl expected to be threatened in return, and her subsequent death did give her a moment of clarity. She was made to understand that her existence in this state was inherently risky, and she needed to be more careful. I think that was the driving force for her seeking out Scott and Cleo to form a tentative alliance. Pearl hasn’t forgiven them at this point, but knew she needed them if she was to last. This forces her to have some level of impulse control, instead of only relying on those around hee
Them being her failsafe put her in a difficult situation when it comes to her Scarlet Pearl role. She was a “Red,” that’s her job, but her team still needed her. But they’re not her team, but she needs them, but she can’t trust them, not after what they did.
But she has to, and that’s what ultimately brings her to side with them; necessity. She doesn’t like them, she doesn’t trust them, a sentiment they return, but she needs them.
The world is cruel, Pearl is cruel, and she needs to defend herself and her own peace- a lesson that, funnily enough, she picked up from Scott
Ultimately Pearl doesn’t learn to care about either of them until the moment she dies. ESPECIALLY Cleo, who ended up siding with Martyn in the end. But it’s Scott’s sacrifice that cuts through the callous she’d developed over the course of the season. He gave his life for her. Scott sacrificed himself FOR HER. The action doubles as changing her perception of him as a person and changing her perception of the world. Scott wasn’t the selfish man she made him out to be, and the world wasn’t filled with senseless cruelty.
Pearl hasn’t learned to trust again, but she’s able to begin the process in LimL
Enter: BigB
BigB’s someone who has had shaky alliances over the ENTIRE series. This started in 3L when the other two Blue Sword Boys ended up on opposing sides of a war, him trapped between them. He learned that season that ultimately he was the only person he could trust. In LL, his initial decision to stay with Cleo then the fairy fort was one made out of necessity, NOT trust. BigB was a sitting duck on his own, and he wasn’t about to have a repeat of last season he got targeted over and over again for being isolated.
And I do think that he cared about the Fairy Fort, they gave him a sense of genuine security that he hasn’t had before. So him being the cause of the Fairy Fort’s collapse gave him a Crisis
The last person he was able to trust that season was Ren, and Ren ended up being his soulmate in DL. Except due to the cheater’s arc BigB blames himself their demise in DL as well (Again, there was shared blame across all parties I made an entire long post about this already).
So BigB is going into LimL with the same lesson Pearl has just begun unpacking; They are the cruelty/danger that exists in the world and can never truly rely on anyone
(Also second sidebar, this is something I love about LimL. Everyone coincidentally got an alliance with matching wounds, but moving on)
The first thing Pearl actually does this season is try to retrieve Tilly, her dog she thinks is still alive. (And here’s that asterisk*) what actually happens is Martyn jokes that he cremated her dog, and Pearl’s unintentionally forced to understand that her dog is dead, she’s Been dead since the start of DL. Breaking apart that delusion was actually Very important to her breaking apart her worldview. If that information was false, what else was she wrong about?
And this is explored through her alliance with BigB. See, the Nosey Neighbors were a fresh start for both of them. They both were re-learning how to trust themselves and others, relearning how to care for others and be cared for in turn. Them watching the server was a lighthearted way to vent their paranoia- again, both unpacking how they view the world and how they view themselves
LimL as a season did a lot to defang the games, for lack of a better term. The deaths were very much gamified, they weren’t nearly as serious as they previously were. Pearl and BigB used this environment to reflect on themselves. The world was chaotic, yes, but it wasn’t as cruel as they thought it was. THEY aren’t as cruel as they thought they were
Pearl makes the decision to be his protector, treating this as a test to show she doesn’t destroy everything she touches. Except, she hasn’t unpacked how she sees herself as cruel, only points that “cruelty” away from those she cares about, and that’s why acting as Protector comes so naturally to her
This is reinforced over the course of the season, but it’s only ever confronted towards the end after Grian’s plan resulted in the three of them being shot. BigB was left with under a minute left, causing Pearl to panic. Pearl immediately insisted he kill her for more time, with BigB panicking in turn because he “didn’t know how.” He was scared of breaking the bond they’d developed over the season and Pearl cut through that fear without hesitation
And here’s where her role as protector is solidified. The world is cruel and unjust, and everyone deserves to have someone to rely on. Pearl would be the foundation for others since nobody else was going to be.
Pearl had already made a promise to herself and to BigB to get him to the end. He would win that season if she had anything to say about it. Except Pearl isn’t able to keep her promise to BigB. He dies just out of eyeshot, and she is helpless to save him
Pearl doesn’t give up on being a protector, this decision influencing a lot of her actions in SL. She wants to be a solid foundation for the Mounders because she knows the importance of having that foundation- she knows the pain a lack of foundation can cause.
Also, the Mounders being a larger group acts as proof that she’s able to trust others again, even if that doesn’t register to her. Remember, LL created the precedent that larger groups are more dangerous, with smaller alliances being much safer. Pearl being able to function comfortably in a group of 4 just goes to show how much she’s grown as a character
SL goes on to challenge her new worldview in several ways. First it was Mumbo turning Red, him becoming excessively violent like he’d been in LL. This actually acts as a mirror to Pearl’s former self, since Mumbo’s pulling from the same logic she was pulling from in DL. Remember, Mumbo hasn’t been in other seasons, his only experience with the games was the confusion and paranoia of LL (I think the lighthearted confusion of the tasks actually triggered his and Lizzie’s paranoia, but that’s another essay). He hasn’t had a chance to unpack that like Pearl has, and she sees this as a failure on her part, doubling down on her Protector role for Joel and Bdubs
Second, Joel and Bdubs, losing their lives. Pearl was forced to reckon with the fact that she cannot keep them safe in the same way she couldn’t keep BigB safe last season. It brings back her fears of destroying everything she touches, even though she worked so hard to unpack that last season. She sees them dying as her failing to be their protector, and her clinging to Scar is a response to that. Pearl needed to prove to herself that she can save Someone, that she doesn’t destroy everything she’s a part of.
Pearl also sees Scar as an echo of who she was in DL, same as Mumbo. She refuses to let him spiral in his isolation. Except, circumstances make it clear to her that she cannot save him by being his protector, she cannot save him at all.
And so she attempts to sacrifice herself for him, just like Scott had done for her. Pearl thinks she will ultimately cause his demise and the only thing she can do is give her life for him
But Scar immediately shoots that idea down.
This is because Scar was unpacking the exact same idea- the idea that he is inherently cruel and destroys everything he touches. Scar recognized that Pearl was self destructing and Did Not Let Her. Pearl wasn’t allowed to be his protector, she’s allowed to be his ally, his equal
Pearl in turn is allowed to see herself not as a force to be controlled, but a person. I don’t think she even realized how she’d been dehumanizing herself until this moment
And I think she has conflicting feelings on Scar’s victory. On the one hand, she achieved her goal in having an ally make it to the end. On the other, Scar’s victory challenged what it even meant to win the games. Pearl doesn’t know if the victory was worth the path it took to get there, and she’s left in that headspace until the next season
#trafficblr#pearlescentmoon#c!pearl#rotating her in my brain#she fits that one mitski song with the “I am cruel I am gentle I can make you laugh#also I hope it comes across that her Protector role was equally as dehumanizing as her Scarlet Pearl role#except the first is reinforced as being good and the second is more obvious damaging#long post#also I haven’t watched her DL perspective in so long so sorry the details are off
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Mylo took out his own feelings of inadequacy onto Jinx, and exacerbated hers.
I've seen lots of people say that Mylo was right in his belittling of Jinx, that he was only verbalizing a truth that Vi refused to see, or that while he could've been nicer when criticizing Jinx, his claim that she really was a bad luck charm that should be left behind was accurate. I disagree with this.
I can't stress enough that Mylo's constant bullying of Jinx revealed more about him than it did her. Mylo was an extremely insecure teenager who had little confidence in his own place within their group, who felt like he wasn't contributing as much as he would've liked to, and had a need to impress Vi, whom he looked up to. And he dealt with this by doing what a lot of insecure people do - belittle someone else who A) threatens their ego, or B) is an easy target (is weaker than them or has obvious shortcomings). This makes that other person the black sheep of the group, so they don't have to be. And Jinx fit both criteria.
In his very first appearance, you'll notice how often Mylo looks at Vi for approval. He's happy when she acknowledges him after his joke,
and then immediately looks to her when he successfully replicates her leap from one roof to another.
But during the actual job, it's clear that Mylo contributes very little. First, he takes too long to pick the lock on the door, and Vi has to kick it open.
Then, he has trouble distinguishing between valuable items and junk.
But you know who does know how to discern between items that are valuable and ones that aren't? Jinx. And Vi calls this out right in front of Mylo, embarrassing him. Notice how bothered he is by her comment.
Of course, Jinx goes on to make her own blunders during the job, but this just strengthens my point. Jinx fits criteria A) and B). She has valuable skills that Mylo doesn't, and Vi, someone he admires, calls attention to it. And she's accident-prone and screws up in more obvious, explosive ways than he does. Of course he picks on her. It's a good way to draw the group's attention away from his own shortcomings and onto hers.
During the street fight later on (that Mylo carelessly provoked), Vi and Claggor come out on top like badasses. Meanwhile, Mylo struggles and Vi has to save him.
But what happens right after that? Jinx gets cornered and loses their entire haul, except for the crystals. Mylo is (very understandably) frustrated and scolds her for this, but his performance in that fight was second worst after Jinx. His treatment of Jinx is mostly genuine frustration at her mistakes screwing them all over, and partially a way to bolster his own low self esteem. Unfortunately for him, it doesn't quite work. Vi has taken note of all of Mylo's mistakes despite his best efforts to deflect the spotlight onto Jinx's. And she calls him out for them when he, yet again, begins insulting her little sister.
But even after this, he still insults Jinx the very next episode. Right after Claggor teases him about losing to Jinx in a shooting game.
Now, Mylo wasn't a useless screw up with nothing to contribute, and neither was young Jinx. Without Mylo, Vander wouldn't have gotten free of his shackles and been able to protect and save Vi. But to accomplish freeing Vander, he needed encouragement and positive reinforcement to boost his confidence in himself and his abilities (things he denied Jinx).
Mylo wasn't useless, he was just incredibly insecure that he might be viewed that way and desperate to shield himself from being perceived as such. So he ostracized Jinx, a younger, weaker person who made a lot of mistakes he could easily call attention to, who also made him feel a little threatened since she was skilled in ways he wasn't. It's a very human reaction, typical of an immature teenager. He doesn't deserve to be dragged through the mud, but in no way were his "criticisms" wholly true, needed, or helpful. They were the words of an insecure boy, desperate not to be deemed the weak link in the group. And they had a greatly damaging effect on Jinx's self worth and insecurities.
It's cool that Mylo is a character with this much depth considering he dies in the third episode. And this just makes me even sadder to see the effect his bullying had on Jinx, considering they both had very similar insecurities.
#really don't agree with the take that mylo was right in some way. no he really wasn't#jinx screwed up a lot but mylo did not help the situation with his treatment of her. quite the opposite#the bullying wasn't him being wise and perceptive. it was him coping with his own fear of inadequacy#arcane#arcane league of legends#mylo#vi#claggor#jinx#vander
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Did it ever occur to anyone that Wanda’s Roma background in the comics was BUILT on racist stereotypes? Similarly to M’Baku but also several others. And maybe that’s why the show runners stepped away from that..?
okay, so i think what we have here is someone who skimmed the original post in question (paragraph 2) and likely didn’t ready any of the links attached because that first message has been addressed already... but for anyone else in the same boat:
from gavia baker-whitelaw’s article:
Wanda and Pietro's Romani heritage was canon for decades (including in their non-mutant backstory), although this depiction often had problematic undertones. Wanda is literally a mysterious foreign witch, a damaging stereotype that acquired more nuance in later comics. But instead of updating Wanda and Pietro as modern Jewish/Romani superheroes (much like how Black Panther's charismatic M'Baku started out as a villain named "Man-Ape"), Disney whitewashed them. This casting choice was divisive in 2013, when The Atlantic highlighted the negative connotations of casting a white blonde actress as Scarlet Witch. Roma people are a marginalized ethnic minority, and Disney chose to erase their presence from the MCU.
...This rewrite was rather tone-deaf, because it involved Wanda and Pietro volunteering for neo-Nazi experiments. In the comics, their original parents were Holocaust survivors. Whedon also ignored the most obvious solution to Wanda and Pietro's non-mutant backstory: Django and Marya Maximoff, their Romani parents from the comics.
white washing characters is never the best solution. it doesn’t address the issue in so much as it just sweeps it under the rug. as well as perpetuating the idea that white is some unproblematic neutral that ppl can just default to. like can you imagine if in an attempt to “fix” how m’baku is portrayed in the comics, they just...put a white guy in the role? you can’t just remove a characters racial or ethnic background. no one is saying that her comic background hasn’t been problematic, but this isn’t the way to remedy that.
@scarlet--wiccan has an amazing post about the erasure of this whole family’s ethnic identity in the fox x-men films (x).
@villyns also has a good post outlining some examples of the mcu white washing rather than actually fixing the problem (x).
and here’s a decent article on white washing in media and why it’s a problem (x), quote from this article below:
Making a movie is not an easy feat; there are many things to take into account and even more people that you have to please, but there are also standards and morals to uphold. Whitewashing, blackface, brownface or yellowface is not just about denying jobs to minority actors, appropriating the stories of these groups, perpetuating stereotypes or keeping them invisible, it is about undermining their value as human beings and turning them into stepping stones, props, for white artists.
as for the second part. i think that’s entirely possible, actually. it’s done a lot to characters, where they won’t explicitly state their ethnicity but give them attributes from one (often stereotypes) and make them a caricature without making it, like i said, explicit. take the concept of jewish-coded villains in media. no one from disney has ever said that mother gothel in tangled is jewish, but it’s been pointed out by everyone that she’s jewish coded through stereotypes, ones specifically often used for “evil” witch-type characters, which is no coincidence: large, hooked nose, curly hair, greedy, etc. edit: hollywood uses coding like this often for racial/ethnic groups and the lgbtq+ community.
the maximoffs in the mcu and xmcu have never been explicitly made romani, with disney going so far as to change their parents romani names (django and marya) to oleg and irina. the name changes were unnecessary, except to distance the maximoffs from their original romani identity. the mcu changed their origins stories and cast non-romani actors to portray the maximoffs, and considering they went as far as to remove their jewish heritage as i mentioned before, it’s not a stretch that this is all an attempt to veil their romani background too. while they often joke about stealing and fortune tellers and poverty (the wv halloween episode really put it all in one place, but they’ve been doing it forever in the xmcu and mcu), i wouldn’t say this is an attempt to make them romani as much as it is to use a romani-esque caricature, to use it as a sort of “aesthetic” for the twins without acknowledging that it’s an ethnicity. the aspects they choose to keep are often either negative or painted in a negative light. i think the fact that el*zabeth ols*en continuously uses the g-slur to talk about wanda and costume design, speaks to that.
and even if the mcu came out and said, “oh, our wanda is romani,” that wouldn’t change the fact that she’s played by a non-romani actress (who continues to use anti-romani slurs, despite knowing she shouldn’t) and that so far, they have not explicitly stated in the mcu that she is.
from gavia baker-whitelaw’s article:
Wanda and Pietro's whitewashing feels like an attempt to "neutralize" them. It frames their ethnicity as a problem to be avoided, rather than an opportunity to celebrate an under-represented group. This also meant that Marvel could cast famous white actors instead of sourcing an unknown Romani actor, during a period when the MCU was visibly uninterested in racial diversity.
But Marvel Studios wanted to have its cake and eat it, too. While Wanda is now white and Sokovian, her role isn't completely divorced from its Romani origins. It can't be, because everything in the MCU is informed by the comics. That's how we end up with El*zabeth Ols*n describing her Age of Ultron costume as "kind of this g*psy, vagabond feel"—terms that usually wouldn't come to mind for a simple black minidress and maroon jacket. Wanda's Romani heritage remains visible through veiled references and superficial costume choices, sidestepping any hint of meaningful representation.
from jessica reidy’s article:
Today, some Roma do call themselves witches, and serve as healers and spell-casters in a community, but make no mistake, being a witch is a job like any other. I was trained by my grandmother, I studied hard, I started a business, and I take bookings in my Google calendar. This is the context that most people miss when creating (or, in this case, adapting) Romani witch characters like Wanda Maximoff, and while the Scarlet Witch has plenty of magic, she does not need to fall into the stereotype, nor have her identity erased.
Representation matters. Wanda’s Romani ethnicity has been well-stated in the comic books, sometimes capturing the discrimination and violence that Roma face, and other times falling flat and stereotypical. Marvel also owes us, as Roma are often rendered as mentally unstable thieves, such as Dr. Doom, Wanda and Pietro’s community, and Wanda herself, and the entertainment giant capitalizes off of these stereotypes, reinforcing them all the while.
Every opportunity we get for accurate and positive representation is essential to us because it shapes the way people understand us.
linking the post i made again, because it has a list of articles and posts i’d recommend really taking the time to look through and engaging with them, as well as following folks like jessica reidy and @scarlet--wiccan on social media for more info from romani folks.
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Miss Faelicy I would love to get your opinion on Bingqiu.
I see people posting things like how they are "problematic" and how they don't really love each other and SQQ only feels sympathy etc. Obviously there were struggles between them as there should be (considering all that happened) and just because sqq wasn't very open and super obvious about his feelings doesn't mean they are not there..this is how I interpreted it. I would love to know your opinion
Hello! This also covers part 2 of the previous ask.
First, massive spoilers for the end of the novel. Second, a disclaimer: I despise shipwars, which I think are behind most of those comments. I hate them because it's usually all in bad faith: everyone's already committed to their interpretation of the ships, and any discussion is just a guise for justifying their preferences.
So to any readers: I don't want anything here to be used as shipwar fuel. This post is about Bingqiu's canon arc and themes. Basically, I don't know or care if Bingqiu is a good ship, but I do think it's a well-written one.
I'll start by saying directly: for most of the novel, Bingqiu is neither healthy nor romantic. And that this is not bad writing, but on purpose.
A relationship that drives one party to mental breakdown isn't healthy. A relationship where that party says it's okay to hurt or kill them can't possibly be healthy. That happened because there was something deeply wrong with their relationship, something that can't be reduced to Xin Mo, miscommunication, or LBH throwing a tropey yandere fit.
And out of all three MXTX novels, only SV lacks a love confession from the MC to the ML. Again, I don't think it's an oversight, or just because SQQ's face is too thin. There are plenty of ways MXTX could have worked a subtle one in if she really wanted to.
In my opinion, Bingqiu's narrative can be split up into four arcs: Qing Jing Peak (ch 1-27), Jin Lan City (28-43), Post-revival (29-55), and Reconciliation (56-81). Other than the first arc, where their relationship is pretty straightforward, Bingqiu spend most of the rest in direct conflict.
I'll give an overview of the arcs here, but what I truly want to say about Bingqiu starts in arc 4, so if you're impatient you can scroll down. But the overview might help add context.
Jin Lan City arc is about LBH's anger at being brutally betrayed by the one person he thought he could trust. Here he tries to force answers out of SQQ, who he believes both hates him and is a hypocrite. He's driven by a desire to return to the past, but his rage and love makes his actions contradictory: on one hand he tries to win SQQ's approval constructively, by climbing to the top of Huan Hua Palace and performing good deeds, on the other hand his belief that SQQ doesn't care about him so it's all futile anyway (reinforced by SQQ's own actions) causes him to lash out destructively, going as far as to hurt and imprison SQQ.
LBH's bitterness is portrayed very negatively, because all it does is instill despair into SQQ, until SQQ ends up believing that he's only been a blight on LBH's life, and that he must make up for it by killing himself. Whereupon LBH breaks down, regressing into a childlike state. Some might ask, why does LBH never bring up the Abyss again afterwards? It's because he gives up here. This entire arc is about getting LBH to let go of past wrongs and to stop seeking answers, whether the reader believes it's fair to him or not. Because SQQ's life is more important.
Post-revival arc then is about SQQ trying to come to terms with a blackened LBH who also loves him. Interestingly, despite SQQ's horror at realizing LBH was romantically interested in him all along, SQQ actually has a very subtle but telling secondary reaction. To explain, let's back up to the first arc.
Starting around ch 9, probably as a sign of his growing affection, SQQ begins addressing LBH as 这孩子, or "this child," in his internal monologue, instead of LBH's name. He does it once each in ch 9, 12, 17, 21, 25. However, once Jin Lan City arc starts, SQQ drops the address entirely. LBH and "child" are never brought up together except for one snarky comment on LBH's tantrum being disgracefully childish in ch 38.
At first glance this doesn't look noteworthy because LBH by this point is no longer a kid. But when LBH kisses him in ch 49, SQQ changes again: right away he returns to using "child" on LBH, and the "this child" address starts popping up at a much higher frequency. By the end of SV SQQ has referred to LBH as a child in some manner at least 35 times (yes I went and counted), with the vast majority after ch 49, and he continues to do so right into the last extra.
Why was SQQ unwilling to use this address of affection for over 20 chapters? Perhaps because he too thought LBH hated him, and couldn't bear to think about him so intimately knowing that. So SQQ immediately falling back into it the moment he learns LBH loves him is a sign of his relief. He's still dismayed at the romantic part, but though SQQ likes to deflect from his real emotions (this is the guy who focused on bad naming sense after being fatally poisoned, who cavalierly commented only after it was all over that he'd expected to die), the fact that LBH loves and doesn't hate him, means a lot.
Here SQQ's feelings towards LBH are at their most complicated. He still assumes the worst of him like in Jin Lan City, but now because of the above, also sees a lonely child whenever LBH is unhappy and lost. It's like he has two filters actively interfering with each other, "crazed criminal" and "pitiful child," and so he flip-flops between pushing LBH away and comforting him. But when LBH drags CQMS into it, and even seemingly takes advantage of SQQ's love for him, SQQ's negative image and frustration with him only grows, until he finally snaps and tells LBH to never come near him again.
At this point SQQ still believes that LBH is the same black-hearted, invincible, devil incarnate that og!LBH was portrayed to be. The Reconciliation arc starts by chipping away at this filter that's been plaguing SQQ for so long. First the revelation that TLJ/ZZL was behind the sowers, thus clearing LBH's name at Jin Lan City. Then we see how unloved he is by his own father; we see him injured and helpless and unconscious. Meng Mo yells at SQQ, reinforcing that image of a vulnerable, terrified child. So by ch 62 SQQ has thrown away the "crazed criminal" filter completely, and in that same chapter they cling to each other and finally make up. Because while it's true that the current LBH is misanthropic, antisocial, and mercurial, SQQ has also finally accepted that he's still the same LBH he'd raised and doted on, back on Qing Jing Peak.
Now I'm going to talk about what I see as the most important part of Bingqiu. Yes, despite the wall of text already.
A common sentiment of Bingqiu shippers about their issues seems to be, "SQQ is dumb and oblivious; he can't figure out what LBH needs even though he loves him because he sees LBH as a novel character," but I think the problem is far more complicated and insidious than that. If that was everything, why give SQQ the epiphany that he misunderstood LBH so early? Why have him think in ch 66 that "truthfully, he'd never really trusted Luo Binghe, and that's why he kept accidentally hurting him?" If he's already realized that he shouldn't treat LBH like og!LBH (he even meets og!LBH in ch 71 to rub it in further), why do we go another 13 chapters believing their relationship is good and well, even giving us a sweet, happy moment in ch 75, only to show LBH having the worst breakdown of the novel just 4 chapters later? Was it all just padding to demonstrate the danger of Xin Mo?
Or is there something else beneath the surface?
In ch 66, the same chapter where SQQ implies he doesn't want to accidentally hurt LBH anymore, he says something telling. When LQG is skeptical that LBH can be trusted, SQQ thinks, 家里孩子不懂事，大人不容易做, or "when your child doesn't know any better, as the adult you don't have it easy." The child here of course refers to LBH, and the adult is SQQ, who's complaining about smoothing over LBH's messes. But what is SQQ implying here?
Doesn't know any better? That's what you say about a toddler who can't think for themselves, not a grown man. LBH is 25 and SQQ thinks he doesn't know better. Doesn't know better about what? LBH's wants, his needs? His feelings? Or even what's good for him?
And then you realize that's exactly how SQQ's always treated him, like a helpless child who can't make his own choices.
It's SQQ who chooses to throw LBH down into the Abyss without trying to talk to him. It's SQQ who decides that keeping silent is the best choice. It's SQQ who believes self-destructing in front of LBH will help, who thinks that breaking off their relationship is for the better. And it's SQQ who scolds LBH into tolerating CQMS, even though they hate each other and CQMS is hostile towards him. Who forces him to leave first at Zhao Hua Temple despite LBH's pleas otherwise, who shoos him out the window when CQMS walks in on them.
Every single one of these decisions, SQQ made believing it was for the best (repair LBH's relationship with his family, help him avoid arrest, not wanting to make excuses, wanting LBH to be free of his hatred), and every single one of them only damaged LBH further. Because SQQ's never listened to him, even once. Never consulted him or considered his feelings.
(And LBH did try to bring up his feelings on one of the matters in ch 75. He insinuates to SQQ that he doesn't like LQG calling him "little beast" or "ingrate." And SQQ's response is to dismiss them entirely, saying that LQG's "not wrong.")
SQQ has always loved LBH, but he's never once respected LBH's agency or personhood. Because LBH doesn't know better and SQQ does, so SQQ must make all his decisions for him.
And this, amplified by Xin Mo, is what finally drives LBH mad in ch 79.
To LBH, the important part isn't whether SQQ loves him, which I think he knew after ch 43 (it's why he can be so daring and pushy with SQQ's boundaries). What's important is that the moment SQQ believes abandoning LBH is justified for whatever reason again, SQQ absolutely will.
Ch 80's two-way noncon (since LBH was basically unconscious and couldn't consent) tends to draw most of the attention, but I actually think that what happens afterwards is one of the most important scenes for Bingqiu. There SQQ tries to sacrifice himself a second time for LBH, drawing Xin Mo's demonic qi into his body. Yet the novel claims that SQQ's actions here are completely different than in ch 43. SQQ himself says that this time he's doing it for LBH, while last time he was doing it for himself. But can the reader see a functional difference?
There is one, in fact: it's SQQ's response to LBH's choice afterwards. LBH decides to follow SQQ in death, even though this would void the point of SQQ's sacrifice. But instead of insisting otherwise, SQQ just accepts it. Because he finally understands that whether LBH's life is worth living, whether LBH will be better off, is for LBH and only LBH to decide.
It's the first time he respects LBH's agency. And this is the only reason why he and LBH can finally begin building a healthy relationship on the mess they've had up to now.
So that's what I see as the true beauty behind Bingqiu. It's about communication and mistaken assumptions, yes, but it's also about the nature of love between parent and child. The romantic developments were left to the extras, I believe, because this was the main story MXTX wanted to tell with them. Their relationship as lovers only starts afterwards, hence why SV ends with, "the story between you and I, has only just begun." It was never meant to be a whirlwind romance where they fall in love cleanly. It might not to be to everyone's tastes, but an incredible amount of thought was put into the narrative, and that's what amazed me when I first finished this novel.
(This post went on way too long and I ended up cutting off a huge chunk of tangential stuff and how SQQ came to his realization in ch 79: he didn't do it alone. It took him seeing the LBH in TLJ and the himself in YQY for him to understand. In fact, YQY and og!SQQ's relationship has a similar parent-and-child dynamic. I've touched on it before on twitter; if there's interest I might try writing that up here too.)
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Merry Christmas, Timmy
hi babes. For those of you that don’t celebrate, I still hope you are wonderful wherever you are. Kiddo was with her dad last night, so I was all by myself, got a little sad, and thought of this little thing for the holidays. I’ve done angsty ones before (like this one), but I won’t break your heart with it <3
**
And the softly falling snow flutters around Gotham, painting the city in a semblance of joy. Christmas lights on buildings and store fronts, a decorated tree in Robinson Square, all signals the city is feeling the good cheer.
Christmas Eve and all is calm.
Except for the vigilante standing at the top of the Wallstone Apartments, grapple in one hand, planning his next jump while the snow piles on his shoulders, and the glinting lights sparkle off his harness in the night.
The muted comm in his ear is silent, no witty banter back-and-forth or calm, cool orders, no sounds of flying over the skyline or fights breaking out against the criminals. It’s as quiet as the city itself.
He hadn’t expected any different, knowing the patrol roster would be empty. The Bats would be at the Manor for hours already, eating and celebrating the holiday, taking a well-deserved night off unless something awful happened, and major crime took them away from the warmth and laughter.
And even if he isn’t part of it all anymore, not since he’d brought back the OG Batman from time, even if he didn’t wear the R in front of his heart like a brand, even if he’d been gone long enough to get the point, that maybe he’d only been the stand-in all along, Red Robin is still determined to keep moving and make damn sure there would be no reason to disturb their family gathering tonight.
The pain in his chest at being the last one left standing had waned in the last year, enough that he could be in the city without it being such fucking agony. It’s easier to stand at his old haunt with nostalgia dogging his steps, looking out for the same hidden niches and fire escapes sturdy enough to hold his weight. It’s easier to stay out of the way when he’s back, to run Wayne Enterprises without getting in Bruce’s sight, to patrol the outskirts and gaps away from the family, to keep his comm on mute, to keep his penthouse Perch his main haven instead of coming back to the Cave or the Manor or the Bunker and pushing himself into their lives where he probably never should have been in the first place.
It’s easier...for everyone.
It’s easier not to make waves but to just bow out gracefully and work on the backend instead. So, yesterday, he’d bid his teammates at Titan’s Tower good-bye as they all left to go to their families for Christmas, and he boarded a plane back to Gotham with every intention of keeping the city safe while the protectors got their time to celebrate.
And the crisp, cold air is hard on his lungs after thwarting the first of three escape attempts from Arkham, bruised to the bone from some pretty good fights along the way. A few hours before dawn and he could go back to his Perch, check his injuries from the last tussle with his team to make sure he isn’t approaching an infection, and pass out for the first time in over sixty hours.
Renee Montoya, as it happens, is also on patrol, and flags him down with a full cup of coffee, grinning at his whiteouts, pulling the collar of her jacket up while they talk about the few B&Es he’d already hit.
A swing to the soup kitchen and further to the homeless shelter. Skimming along the roof of the crooked pawn shop in the Narrows and down to the usual hangout for a few of the lesser gangs, flaring the cape out to be obvious, sending the message someone is out tonight, and a beating might not be the best present for the morning.
An alarm raised at Blackgate, and he’s riding the Ducati at breakneck speed, jaw tight against the bitter cold, ignoring the numbing in his legs and fingers.
It’s no shock someone as smart as Falcone would have his minions try to bust him out when the guard duty is light for the holidays.
He shoves one out of the way of a hail of bullets, his armor taking most of the damage, and his thigh taking another in a bout of stupidly bad luck. He brings them down fast enough to keep the fighting to a minimum and as many guards safe as possible.
He stays long enough to zip tie the cranky ones, waits for the red and blue lights, the scream of sirens signalling back-up is on the way.
The ride back to town is hazy because he didn’t get the tourniquet on fast enough and blood paints a nasty wreath-like shape in the snow.
The Ducati coasts to a shadowy alleyway a few block from his Perch, and he falls off, drags himself behind a dumpster for a breather. Midnight chimes across the city, a Merry Christmas to go with his blood loss.
And when he’s finally caught his breath enough to stand with the whitehot pain in the meat of his thigh starting to be a problem, his ear cracks to life, hazy in his brainpan.
“Can’t trace him. He doesn’t have trackers in his suit.”
“What the fuck ya talkin’ ‘bout, O?”
“We will absolutely address that later, Hood. For now, we have priorities.”
He laughs off his insane imagination and manages to get to his feet. He hobbles to the Ducati, pushes it behind the dumpster, out of sight, and makes a note to get it in the morning.
The grapple is slippery in his hand, and he fumbles a little on the way up, not realizing it’s because his glove is bloody and not conducive to any kind of a good grip. No running this time, just hobbling his way two rooftops over and he’s home free.
Wavery, he doesn’t fall when Nightwing and the Red Hood land it on either side of him, but damn if it isn’t a close thing.
“Finally!”
“Fer fuck’s sake, Red. Ya couldn’ta bother callin’ er some shit?”
Which throws him for an important second because what the hell are they even doing out?
The step away is automatic, stepping back from the vigilantes that, in their own ways, tried to kill him. Jason, at least, didn’t try to hide the intent.
Slowly, N raises a hand, “easy, Red. It’s okay now, we’re–”
“Go home,” is all he can think to say. “Go back to your family. I’ve already taken care of the city tonight.” And turns his back on them both with copper in his mouth and the pain in his chest more acute than the one throbbing in his leg.
But the tall, imposing shadow right behind him manages to stop his thought processes because of all things, he sure as hell didn’t expect this.
“The guard at Blackgate reported you could have been hit,” Robin takes a step away from Batman’s side, a hand flying out to sweep the cape back, the reinforced tights stained even in the dim. “It seems he was correct.”
Penned in on all sides, B and Robin, N and Hood, all of them closing in on him.
“Is the bullet still in?” Hand on his shoulder and fuck is it familiar.
“Why the hell didn’t cha call fer back-up?!”
“We need to get him home. Now.”
“Do not strain it, Drake. It may have hit an artery.”
Pulling out of Batman’s hold is not something he can remember doing before tonight, and it’s easier said than done. The hand tightens down for a second before Red makes another try, lunging back to keep them all in his sight.
The vigilantes around him go quiet, all those whiteouts fixed.
“Go home. I came out tonight so the Bats could enjoy Christmas. Arkham’s been secured and so has Blackgate.” He grips his thigh, tightens his hand so the pain helps clear his head a little.
Hood holds up both hand, palms out in the I come in peace that really has no place between them.
(Really, what’s a slit throat and bat-a-rang in the chest between enemies?)
And Nightwing still has a hand out toward him, takes a careful, easy step. But the Batman? He gives absolute no fucks about what his middle son is spewing, just strides up, moves fast and furious enough to have Red Robin up in his arms, tight against the yellow insignia on his chest, turns in a flare of cape, and dives off the roof.
“What the fuck–?!”
The Batmobile slides open silently, and B falls right in the driver’s seat without a ruffle, slams the button to start the massive engine, an arm around Red’s to keep the younger vigilante against his chest, in his lap, held securely. Robin lifts the legs off his seat and joins them.
The Dynamic Duo ignore the pointed, “wait!” as the hatch slides back in place and the car takes off down the silent, snowy street.
Robin reaches to adjust the tourniquet, a quiet, “hold your breath, this shall not be...pleasant.”
B’s hand moves to grip his shoulder while the other pilots the big car, pulling Red Robin deeper into his body, trying to shield him in some crazy way that seems too much, too fucking much, to be real.
The adjustment takes him by surprise, the abruptness of it, of them, of this, taking him completely–
out.
Which is how the Batman leaps out of the Batmobile, with Tim limp and loose in his arms, Damian following on his heels with quicker steps.
“My word,” Alfred turns away from setting up coffee, a hopeful gesture for Master Tim’s sake.
“That’s not what I hoped for,” Stephanie is out of the computer chair in a heartbeat, her ugly Christmas sweater still lighting up since Dick and Jay said there wouldn’t be a need for anyone else to suit up tonight. She and Cass elected to stay behind and keep Alfred company while they boys went to collect their wayward Robin.
Cass moves silently past, already throwing the screen back to the medical bay, her eyes narrowed on the swaying arm and tights darkened with blood.
The echo of Ducatis hits as Alfred scrubs his hands, gloves up, and Steph helps Bruce maneuver around the traps in Tim’s suit.
It’s all hands on deck with Cass and Dami helping to ready supplies, stripping off pieces of the suit when they can.
Dick tosses his gloves and gauntlets the minute they throw themselves off the bikes, Jay dropping the helmet at his workstation on the way.
By the computer, Barbara keeps searching, her likewise ugly Christmas sweater a tacky Riddler dancing with the tastefully done rhyme: Jingle Bells, Batman smells! Robin laid an egg. The Batmobile lost it’s wheel is absolutely perfect for the night.
Until she digs around to see what Red Robin has been in to since his plane hit Gotham, then goes a little further to see what’s been on the Titan’s roster the last few weeks.
The report is grim, and she gives it with a hard tone as Duke comes into the medical bay with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, frowning over bullet fragments pinging in a metal tray.
“By his damn self?” Because Jay feels it bares repeating.
“By himself,” Barbara confirms, wheeling cautiously around to reach through the bodies and squeeze the unmoving hand.
The bruises and contusions make the point, drive home some very hard to believe things as the Bats take him in to the skin. The new scars aren’t in his medical report, and B shoves back the cowl, eyes moving to memorize each one, already planning how he’s going to ease Tim in to talking about them all.
Dick runs a bare hand through Tim’s hair while Jay puts in an IV, Damian grips a bare ankle, his expression grim. Cass winds an arm around Steph’s waist to ground her, watches her best friend blink back tears and hold a hand to her mouth in disbelief. Duke stands with arms folded over his chest, looks for any indication he can jump in and help.
In a few hours, everyone is in pajamas, in various stages of passed out around the couch when Tim comes to slowly, strangely warm for being out in the middle of Gotham on Christmas Eve.
(What the fuck?)
He catches his breath when the ceiling above is one he recognizes all too painfully. He doesn’t even get the chance to move to sit up, to try maneuvering around all the bodies splayed in his favorite sitting room in Wayne Manor because Bruce is someone with an instinct that flares when one of his Robins is obviously in need.
He’s awake, completely alert before Tim’s hand moves the blanket off enough to try getting free over the back of the couch and out.
“Thank God,” and Bruce’s expression is so awfully, terribly relieved, Tim has to look away or be reduced to that teenage kid, shoving himself in their lives trying to save this man from himself.
And since, well Batman, Bruce is up on the couch just that fast, holding Tim in his lap, against his chest, rocking him gently back and forth, arms tight.
“I’ve been so worried about you,” breathed against his too long hair, “when you wouldn’t come home, wouldn’t come back. I thought...it doesn’t matter what I thought, but you’re home and we’re going to take care of you.”
“N-no, I can’t...I shouldn’t be here. I– you should have let me go, I don’t...I’m not–” but his voice wavers when those arms lock down, keep him from wiggling away.
“Yes, yes, you should be here. Right here with us where you belong. No more running, Tim. I’m not letting you go back to Titan’s Tower until you tell me everything. We’re going to solve cases and update your files and talk about what a pain in your ass the team is. We’re going to go to WE together next time and text each other in board meetings to keep from falling asleep. You’re going to patrol with me and Dick and Damian until you remember this is your home too.”
And Bruce only lets up enough to pull the blanket up to Tim’s shoulders, rocks them both gently while his other children sleep on.
“Bruce,” is watery and lost, is so many things that make his heart ache painfully.
“I know, well, at least some of it,” he huffs against the top of his son’s messy bedhead, “but this? You coming back? This is my Christmas Miracle, Tim.”
A big hand loosens enough to rub soothing circles on his back, feeling the tremble that go through Tim’s body that has nothing to do with the hole in his leg. But it’s fine because he’ll sit here all day and into the night, just like this if he needs to, will keep his middle son in place if it keeps Tim from running back to the Titans, to give him the evidence he needs to see.
(How much they need him.)
He holds on and soothes while the tree in front of him blinks brightly and the presents below wait for the excitement of his sleeping kids to wake up and rip them open. And strewn around the base, packages and packages marked Tim and Timmy and Drake and Pain in the ass and Boy Wonder and Master Tim all from the last two years without their third Robin are waiting to be piled up in his lap and spill out on the couch beside him. Are waiting for him as patiently as all the sleeping bodies have been. Waiting for him to come home, waiting for him to finally, finally come back.
By the time Alfred comes in with a tray of coffee, hoping to see their missing member awake without trying to leave, Tim is laying exhausted against Bruce’s chest, the two talking softly.
“I just...I–”
“I know, kiddo, I’m sorry you ever thought that.”
“B...”
“It’s okay. We’ll work it out, we’ll work together to make it better for you. Don’t give up on me, Tim.”
“Like that’s ever going to happen? The rest of the world thought you were dead, you know.”
Seeing the look on Master Tim’s face when he takes the first sip of coffee is intensely gratifying, watching him devour the omelette (tomatoes and spinach, still his favorite of course) before Alfred’s other charges are awake sets a bit of starch in his spine because the young man is woefully under weight. Another omelette is certainly in order.
Dick barely blinks his eyes open before he’s latching on to his little brother with his own octopus hold engaged, and refuses to relinquish the bird while the others start waking up to gather around him.
Tears are shed and the hugs are so tight, laughter following on the edges. Gifts are piled and the attention is set on him as he slowly opens them, blinking back so his eyes don’t spill over.
And he gets to have this warmth in the niche of Dick’s lap with hands desperately holding on, grounding him here in the Manor instead of in the silent Tower or his empty Perch.
He gets Dami gingerly handing him a wrapped package that’s a book of sketches, him in his red and black, him with a grin and domino, him with an arm around Kon and Bart, him and Dick on patrol, him and B walking to the open Batmobile, ready to take on the night. He gets a serious lecture on the statistics of sepsis and a finger wagging in his face that Dami will not tolerate his family being in such danger, Drake, and yes, that includes you.
He gets Steph holding his hand too tight, her eyes watery and lower lip trembling with whatever she’d seen while he was riding the unconscious train, and Cass rubbing his scalp with her free hand and smiling that same gentle smile from that time she came for him in the fight against Ra’s crazy ass sister.
He gets Jason Todd putting a fresh cup of coffee in his hand and a soft half-smile that seems to tell a story he’d never thought he’d live long enough to hear, and Babs treating him the same as always, going on about the new Ransomware she’d planted in Lonnie’s systems just for a hoot.
He gets to low-five Duke when the guy helps get some of the intense attention away, steering most of them back to the tree to help hand out gifts and get spots cleared so Alfred can bring in food with Jay helping so the butler can catch a seat and accept brightly wrapped packages.
And the day moves into afternoon, terrible Hallmark Christmas movies turn into awful 80′s action movies with Christmas themes (Jason making fun of Lethal Weapon is literally the best thing he’s ever seen), and it’s strange to see someone waiting for him in the hall anytime he’s had to use the bathroom, or hobbles upstairs to change clothes.
(He never suspected he’d still have a room, a place, a workstation, a set of clothes that fit. Never suspected any of this to be waiting, thought these days were long gone and acceptance was the road better taken.)
A chorus of hell no’s! and Dick literally wrapping him up in a stifling hold keeps him in for the night when he follows in the back of the group down to the Cave and picks up his suit, assesses the damage briefly but starts to wrap his wrists anyhow.
Jason is the one to take the tape out of his hand around Dick’s crushing denial, and another finger wagging in his face with some nu-uh Timmers. That shit ain’t gonna happen, feel me? on the side.
Alfred caps it all off, mildly remarking how Master Tim would absolutely be able to work comms in their absence since someone of the household would need to clean-up the mess upstairs since he apparently isn’t getting any younger.
So he finds himself plunked down in the chair by the big computer, O grinning next to him on her laptop, warming up her system to plug into the criminal side of Gotham and get their night started right.
And this chain of events might not be what he imaged a few hours, a few days, a few weeks ago when memories of the Manor hit him in his roughest moments, gave him a bit of strength to keep moving, but it may just be the evidence he needs to also believe in Christmas miracles.
#winter writes#merry christmas!#tim drake#bruce wayne#dick grayson#jason todd#damian wayne#stephanie brown#duke thomas#cassandra cain#alfred pennyworth#you might be a little sad#hurt/comfort#home for the holidays#my drabs#my writing
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a while back i did a review of the prison chapter in por and it was totally overblown and whatever but i kinda wanna do that again for (what remains of) radiant dawn so i guess i will
I'll be doing them in batches since this got long. In this post: 3-5 through 3-9
3-5: it's been two years and i forget why we have to defend this castle
this was a pretty alright map. the reinforcements were annoying but that's because I generally don't actually turtle all that much on defend chapters and as a result I was Right There whenever and wherever they showed up. I tried to grab the energy drop off the boss but the dude ran away from Heather the moment I created an opening and I didn’t want to reset so :^/
I moved provoke off of shinon and onto Brom for this and its... probably way too strong? like it wasn't a 100% draw rate but there were several turns in a row where he was the only person being attacked which is. insane. and also super fun lmao. I think it's a shame that the hostility mechanics in fe aren't as well documented; on some level it ruins the magic, but in cases like this where you're actively influencing it i think it'd be useful to know to what degree you're actually influencing it
disarm + steal is also a really neat/fun idea that would be a great way to counteract how i apparently will never have any money for weapons while playing as the greilgallia party crew 😔 (not to be confused with the greilgallia polycule, which disbanded around twenty years earlier) but I can also never get disarm to proc and half the things that i was able to get unequipped were too heavy for Heather to actually steal 😔
all around a decent map to ease myself back into playing rd with. I certainly could have played better, but defend maps tend to be easier and I appreciated that here
3-6: dawn brigade returns and promptly sinks into a swamp
god this map sucked. it's really hard to pick where to start with it but while i get that lore dictates that they need to only be fighting laguz right here it was probably the wrong gameplay decision with everything else that was going on. I think maybe making tigers have ~4 less str across the board would have been a nice start since I kinda needed to either never get hit by them at all or to kill them first.
several chapters later I’m also realizing maybe i should have like. started to use bexp lol
fighting laguz is also really weird in terms of like... because they have boosted stats while transformed so you can either kill them while they're untransformed (which is fairly easy but since they don't attack, you have to kill them during player phase which means one per turn per unit), deal chip damage (or none at all) to burn down their gauge so you can actually kill them, or try to power through their boosted stats and hope you don’t die in the process.
Because I hadn't used bexp and almost all my units were super weak, I mostly had to rely on the eff against beasts knife that you can buy in the bargain shop this chapter and also volug, who had enough def (even with halfshift) to not die in one round. Honorable mentions go to noland (a fitting name for this map), jill (with canto!), and zihark, who were able to help pick off untransformed laguz, and to micaiah, who could deal magic damage and actually damage transformed laguz.
this was also the first dawn brigade map! i know lots of people people dont like their maps after act 1 and while i was trying to go into this one with an open mind... yeah, they totally got shafted by this map design. it's not really their fault but this map sucked hard. I know that they generally did one of each class variant (fire mage, wind mage, etc.) and not have duplicates but I think that the dawn brigade would have benefited from another mage of some kind if only so you could have someone who could deal with all these goddamned cats
also bk shows up but since he's not a bonus unit i didn't want to feed him kills so i didnt really use him. maybe that was a mistake. also why couldn't he like. warp someone that wasn't the furthest away from the action.
3-7: hey so we heard you liked the previous map
Zihark is there? fuck this i'm reverting to a previous save and unrecruiting him
3-6: i forgot to mention that this map was a swamp map and also had darkness
I know I've mentioned that the similar map in fe6 (desert+fog) was actually kinda alright but this one isnt that at all. Playing through it a second time helped because i knew where enemies were spawning, but it was still more annoying than fun.
Swamps commit the cardinal sin of forcing everyone that can't fly (in this case: everyone but jill) to suffer massive terrain penalties. Deserts at least let mages move a little bit further (which admittedly wouldn't help much here since it's only micaiah and laura), but here everyone friend and foe alike (except Jill) moves slowly and it makes gameplay just grind to a halt which is never, ever fun level design.
Also Fiona just. could not move beyond the starting island. she couldn't even wade a little bit into the swamp like i did with ed and leo to attack at range and get laguz to untransform. they let you deploy everyone but it genuinely felt like i wasn't handed the tools to succeed at this map. always a great goal to have when designing a game
I don't know how to improve this map. unrecruiting zihark (by flying him up to the northeast with jill and having him talk to mordy/lethe) wasn't particularly difficult (battle saves make it easy enough to scout out where they were, and it's not like i'd ever feel bad about 'cheating' on this map) but... would a greater field of view actually help? would making it not a swamp actually help? would giving you more allied units that'll throw themselves in the face of danger with no regard for their own lives actually help?
I don't know.
3-7: but for real this time
Back to ikequest!
this map is... literally the same map as the previous one, but with a different map objective. and larger. and backwards. and not at night.
it's still a swamp.
Luckily, it's a survive map, and the vast majority of the enemy force does not have the time to actually reach you if you hide up in the corner.
Which is exactly what i did.
Here's the list of the optional units (ike and ranulf are mandatory, which sucks because i don't like using twinks cat laguz and ike's plot promotion feels miles away) I deployed and why I deployed them
Haar: to fly out and recruit Jill
Gatrie: to be carried by Haar and specifically to bait the single thunder mage in Haar's way (and help Haar clean out that area so Jill can be safely recruited). I gave him corrosion two maps ago and it actually fully disarmed a guy on this map! 🎊
Brom: stand near where the swamp ends and draw the handful of enemies that actually make it all the way there away from ike and ranulf and ulki and jaffar (who are auto-recruits in this chapter).
This map is. so incredibly easy to both beat and complete the (meaningful) optional objectives on. I missed a conversation between Ike and Micaiah (which requires you to travel all the way across the map that i just finished saying takes forever to traverse and do it in 12 turns), but as long as you unrecruit Zihark on the previous map (he's.... right in the middle of the main force so good luck if you don't) you can probably do this map first try with no deaths even if you haven't trained haargatriebrom At All
I think that kinda underscores a problem that intsys had with rd which was... it feels like they didn't really have a lot of time to fine-tune stuff? like you're going from the hardest (or at least most unpleasant) map to the easiest one this side of the tutorial and it just. doesn't feel good? like there's going to be some inherent difficulty in balancing a difficulty curve when you're shifting from party to party but. this was bad. really bad.
Also a side observation but it does actually say who units can talk to in battle prep which is pretty useful thing to have! you need to shift the stat spreadsheet allllll the way over, but it's there!
i promptly forgot about it by the time 3-10 came around and was like "hey i should just. have ike run up to elincia, see if they'll talk, and then reset" though lol
3-8: Less-than-Lethal Lava Land
A fairly standard lava cave map. My only real comment here is that it was kinda nice how they made the spots where you'd take damage fairly obvious while still making them appear as natural parts of the terrain. I think it was the durandal map in 7 but its "if you're on these at the end of the turn you'll take damage" tiles looked super out of place while the armads map on the other hand wasn't super self-evident and i'm glad they improved
3-9: still cant use lucia >:(
Another party shift (this time to Elincia), and there was some good use of ledges in this chapter!
Most of your units couldn't use them but it created alternate paths for the ones that could (Calill and Devdan). Previous maps tended to use them more as holes in your defenses than needed to be plugged, but it created ways to progress (and ways for reinforcements to catch up) that are usually reserved for flying units, except now you're interacting with the map instead of ignoring it completely.
I think I've yet to meet someone who genuinely likes ledges as a map element, though I think this map really drives home that the sole (inherent) problem with them is the accuracy modifications (which, as this map also demonstrates when the stairs near the end become a chokepoint, are actually present with all elevation changes). While the +2 damage dealt while on the high ground is reasonable, +50 and especially -50 to hitrate are insane and completely unnecessary modifiers. They should be half that if you even choose to retain both.
Anyway.
the absolute lack of a (player-controlled) healer in Elincia's party was also........ interesting. Annoying, but interesting. Why must allied clerics choose death?1
#fe10#its a lot easier to articulate myself when the context of what im saying is so readily apparent
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I have to admit I am a little disappointed with a few things this season at this point and it’s such a damn shame. Not everyone will agree with me and that’s no problem but these are my thoughts ☺️
They had me in the palm of their hand at the beginning and for quite a few of the early episodes. It was stellar, moving, intriguing, creatively structured and I was so interested to see Arthur navigate the d/Deaf community and his hearing loss. All of it was so engaging and made so much sense. I learned so much!
That said, after a while I felt a little disillusioned because of repetition. One thing, for me, that was stellar about the original is how succinct and expositionless the show was. It was so real and I LOVED when they even missed stuff out for us to work out and weren’t wholly full circle because it felt like real life but the seasons still made total sense and we still felt the character arc.
The repetition is fine, it wasn’t my favourite way for the show to get the point across that Arthur was struggling to find his place and struggling to live life as he always had done... and struggling to navigate stuff with the boys and Alexia. But it served its purpose I guess.
I absolutely understand the themes of “between two worlds” and isolation and the navigation of a young person and disability. There’s so much to learn there and I don’t for a second dispute that the show did research because my goodness - they did. Those clips have been, for me, the best of the season. There has clearly been so much overwhelming effort and that’s wonderful and I have seen so many folks who understand Arthur’s journey feeling so happy and represented which is... well that’s special.
But then the show kind of lost it a little for me with the relationship stuff. To be honest, for me as a person, I don’t put much stock in sex or intimate scenes but I do put a lot of stock in relationships between people whether they’re friendships or romantic love.
I was really happy that we were seemingly getting an established relationship for the first time with Skam outside of Eva/Jonas because we’d seen these two characters and knew and loved them! I wasn’t necessarily big on Arthur and Alexia as early on they felt shoehorned together for the sake of it but the show did a lovely job of showing them together, explaining why they were together and really establishing Alexia as this source of warmth for Arthur.
It’s not that I’m sold on them as a couple so much that I’d be devestated if they broke up. That would have been fine with me. I expected drama but it would have been so refreshing if that came from within their relationship. But the show, for me, dropped the ball with the romance and god is it a shame.
It’s obvious people will compare here with Lucas/Eliott. Cheating is an element of that season. It always has been in every version. Is it right? Absolutely not. But it has its purpose as we’ve seen time and time again and it’s tied to the themes of the season. We watch from Lucas’ perspective and so obviously are supporting and understanding him. So we have no emotional attachment or understanding of Lucille except for through Eliott and we understand immediately that they aren’t ok, that Eliott wants to end things and we see their relationship in glimpses and it isn’t good. We don’t have investment there and we also understand why Lucas is doing what he’s doing with Chloe because we’re seeing his mind being twisted. None of it is ok but the relationships that fall apart are both toxic or built on lies or unhealthy or close to over and we have a love story play out where both participants receive their source of understanding and warmth and comfort and understanding from each other. It’s messy but it makes sense despite that. But the fundamental is that the love story can be enjoyed and watched as a positive thing despite the mess. All of that stuff was tied to the issue of sexuality as Lucas felt confused and the issue of mental illness as Eliott felt controlled... here, it is added as an aside and the link is Noèe is Arthur’s gateway to this beautiful new community... but romance here is not necessary. It was chosen and it could have worked perfectly but I’m kinda sad they did it in this way.
Here, I’m so disappointed they have effectively presented Noèe similar to the way they presented Eliott (like an Even). She’s bold and beautiful and feisty and creative. She is a gateway to this new world and is kind and gentle and supportive. She had all of these sweeping beautiful moments and their chemistry was wonderful... but I couldn’t enjoy those moments because we have Alexia waiting in the sidelines.
It’s not the same. Alexis is a character who is loved. She is a character we know and have invested in and who has, traditionally, been sidelined in most remakes as the comedy female and often sadly focused on because of weight and actively dismissed because of it... and so we have emotions for her. We see her support and try with Arthur, offer him advice and love. We see how she doesn’t maybe get it perfect but goodness she tries to hard.
And we watch her for weeks be cheated on and lied to. It’s just so disappointing to me and doesn’t narratively make sense to me. It overshadows and taints the stuff with Noèe and rubbishes Alexia as a character... and for what purpose? The between two worlds idea was stark enough without romance included. It makes both romances, to me, seem unhealthy. Perhaps that’s the intention? If so, fine! If Arthur ends up alone knowing he has to navigate this himself then I’d understand him being flawed and struggling and making mistakes with both girls but I don’t think that’s what will happen.
I’m struggling to see the value of the way it has been done, sadly. I love messy flawed characters but stuff has to narratively make sense and all of the emotional stuff is there... I understand WHY Arthur would like Noèe, I understand their relationship, I understand Alexia and I could understand Arthur being torn but to do it this way not only makes us feel disappointed in Arthur, it presents Alexia as the scorned woman and reinforces all those stereotypes her character was sadly built on (aka that she will be second best or overlooked) and it taints Arthur and Noèe’s relationship from the outset. What a shame. Skam France seems to have a habit or doing this - they did it with s4. They push stuff so far that they end up achieving something that is so damaged or broken that by the end people find it difficult to be on board.
I’ve said it so many times but had it just been about Noèe then I’d have been 100% on board because she’s a dream!
And now to place a kiss directly after Arthur explaining how he has been physically (and no doubt) emotionally abused by his father felt crass! I get that it was an emotional moment but that’s a reveal we’ve been waiting for and a sickening one. That cut scene made me feel sick.
I’m curious as to how they will develop things. Obviously there’s a lot happening but I just feel disappointed that so many of the moments this season where we are supposed to feel something have either been repetitive, overshadowed by negativity or have been placed there for dramatic purposes rather than genuine movement in the plot. So so so much good has been done and I am so thrilled for the young Deaf community in France that they have so much of this season which had been meticulously researched and supported by those who know what it is to be deaf/hoh. That can only be a positive thing but I do feel like this season has lost its way, for me, and I’m struggling to engage in the way I normally would because of stuff I really don’t want to be focusing on... there are bigger more important things to focus on and it is all being drowned out with pointless and illogical relationship drama that truly isn’t needed. Anyway - let me know your thoughts! It’s perfectly ok not to agree with mine ❤️
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The Joker x Reader - “Queen Of The Damned”
In the whole eternity, The Queen of the Underworld only loved once: he was mortal and died shortly after she gave him a child. So when The Joker says he’s a Prince, he’s not actually lying or being a presumptuous lunatic: the green haired man is in fact royalty and sole heir to The Realm Below.
“Stop fidgeting!!!” the nurse admonishes. “This is a new experimental drug and it will help you, OK?” she tries to reason with the patient confined inside a straitjacket, heavy chains bounding him to the metal table.
“Let me go!” he hisses and tries to bite her as she checks his neck for pulse.
“I can’t let you go, Mister Joker. We’re trying to make you better, alright?” the caregiver dodges his teeth before J can sink them in her flesh.
“If you don’t untie me, my Mother will come!!! She doesn’t like it if I’m in danger!”
“Shut the hell up, you insane bastard!” the attending physician can’t hold in his bitterness while mixing the serum.
“Doctor Reeves!” the woman raises her voice. “That’s not the way we talk! I know you are new at Arkham Asylum, but I would really appreciate it if you treat our cases with respect!”
“I’m sorry,” the physician apologizes for his unprofessional remark. “He gets on my nerves!”
“Yes well… Please keep your personal opinions to yourself because they’re not doing any good! The patient is very agitated; would you like me to take over?” she offers and gets cut off.
“I don’t need your expertise, I’m a doctor for God’s sake!”
“I wasn’t implying otherwise,” the nurse sighs at his obvious crankiness; why does she have to be stuck during the night shift with Reeves?! Arkham’s South Wing is already harboring the worst criminals and a psychiatrist that took the job for the thrills can’t possibly render assistance to the troubled convicts incarcerated here.
“I’m done,” he taps the syringe and approaches The Joker when the lights suddenly flicker. “Another power outage?! The storm is not that bad!” the guy rants and doesn’t realize the prisoner is not struggling to escape anymore.
“My Mother’s coming!” the most demented smile flourishes on The Joker’s lips. “I warned you!” he maniacally starts laughing with delight. “You should have listened!”
A low rumble shakes the immense building and the convoluted hallways fill up with mist: the Queen of The Realm Below steps in the world of the living again, surrounded by her loyal army of twisted warriors.
“Protect The Prince!” the invisible wraiths shriek, crawling on the walls in order to destroy the cameras. Some fly through brick and metal with the sole purpose of fulfilling their ruler’s command: no greater honor than aid her son trapped in the human kingdom.
He often gets in trouble and somehow miraculously vanishes or avoids hazardous situations; this is his first time at Arkham and the authorities will believe tonight’s events are an inside job or simply an elaborate breakout plotted by The Joker’s team.
Ironically enough The King of Gotham is not even crazy: his mind works on a totally different level due to the unearthly heritage. There is no cure for a person that’s not sick, no medicine or therapy allegedly mending something that’s not fractured.
“Why isn’t the generator kicking in?” Reeves stares at the ceiling and the nurse carefully listens, pointing out a disturbing detail:
“Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?” the doctor crinkles his nose. “It’s silent.”
“Exactly,” she mutters. “Why is it so quiet?”
“I have no idea,” he prepares to poke The Joker’s arm when the halogen bulbs instantly go out. “Ana, can you…” the psychiatrist mumbles as the lights turn back on. “Finally!” he turns towards the woman and gasps at the frightening apparition standing next to him. Your sword whooshes in the stillness and the corpse falls to the ground, abruptly followed by the caregiver’s: both didn’t have the opportunity to process what they saw by pure coincidence. It was gone in a second along with their existence.
The Queen towers over the medical ward, slowly taking off her helmet; her hair intensely burns, eternally fueled by the fires of The Underworld.
“You came!” The Joker face brightens up with pure happiness noticing the creatures’ claws release him from his constraints: they grumble, coo and chirp seeing The Prince is safe and sound; he pets a few kneeling at his feet while rushing in your arms. “Mother!” J sniffles and you hold him tight until his body relaxes a little bit.
“Are you hurt?” you whisper and your son pouts, burying his cheeks in the cold silver of your plated armor.
“No,” the muffled word prompts a kiss on his forehead; The Joker lets go, unwilling to watch his mother depart: he’s aware she can’t linger for too long, yet the desire to stay close to her never fades. “When are you going to take me with you?” the piercing blue eyes inherited from his father glare into yours.
“Soon,” the elusive reply makes him frown.
“You promised and I’m always left behind!”
How can you explain why he’s still here?... J wouldn’t comprehend what coming with you to The Realm Below means: he would have to get rid of his mortal shell and you just don’t have the strength to witness him die.
Despite the horrifying moniker, The Queen of The Damned is neither good nor evil; her actions are invariably guided by circumstances.
She takes care of lost, damaged spirits and although powerful and feared, Y/N is also the recipient of her legions’ constant devotion, for no other Monarch of The Underworld ever enjoyed being cherished by its subject as much as you are.
The abomination born from her love with a human didn’t diminish the horde’s allegiance: it actually made them adore The Queen more because affection is desperately craved in The Realm Below and they can’t wait to have a Prince willing to share his Mother’s duties!
But The Joker’s arrival keeps on getting postponed…
“You know what I’ll do?” J mischievously snickers. “I’m gonna call my crew and tell them to pick me up. The mystery of how I’m able to walk out of this place without their intervention will drive them nuts! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!” his sinister chuckle resonates in the room; he feels such gratification thinking about it one could presume he’s in a cheerful disposition. “Did you clear the path for me?” The Prince inquires and the entities snarl, excited he’s paying attention to their mighty deeds. “Perfect!” your son praises. “I’ll signal when to open the gates, ok?”
They growl at his approval and you have to interrupt the joyful mood:
“I have to go…”
“Is dad waiting for you?” J asks, already guessing the answer.
“Yes,” you nod and reassure: “Don’t worry, I’ll return when you need me!”
Before the sentence ends The Queen disappears, abandoning her descendant inside the Arkham Asylum. The Joker sulks, upset he can’t follow you and gets distracted by the commotion created on the other side of Block H: apparently some guards weren’t annihilated as expected.
“You said you cleared the path!” he scolds and picks up the phone, dialing Frost’s number. “No matter, I’ll get reinforcements and we’ll make this a party on our own, hm?” the silver grin widens at the concept of fighting his way out himself.
In the meantime, J’s mother materializes by the Endless Wall that separates The Realm Below from The Realm Above: its transparent, glass like composition is meant to keep you apart from the man you love. Why?
The response is easy: The King reigning over The Realm Above always craved your fondness and felt betrayed when you gave your attention to a mere human; deciding to give Kai a child was the epitome of mockery for the jealous emperor. He never accepted your choices had nothing to do with him. Thus he took the matters in his own hands and ensured Kai’s demise, making certain you won’t be able to save him: the mortal you loved was killed in a car crash and went to The Realm Above, which was the plan all along. Since The Joker’s father was at peace when he passed and not a lost, broken soul, he didn’t wind up in your kingdom; The Emperor sealed the borders as soon as Kai appeared on his domain, making sure you won’t touch or hear each other again.
You tried to break the spell without success: only the one that casted such magic could reverse it and The King has no intention to do so. He likes torturing The Queen of The Damned and her beloved, that’s why he lingers in the shadows to glutton at their agony every time they meet.
Today is no exception and it sure brings The Emperor great comfort to view the aftermath of his revolting actions: it probably hurts because you’re unable to do more than gaze at the man you love. Such a fit punishment for a stuck-up Queen rejecting his proposal. You sure got what you deserved! All the powers you possess are useless against his impenetrable curse unleashed out of pure resentment.
Hmm… what’s going on?... You suddenly seem flustered and The King is trying to estimate on the motive; Kai keeps on calling your name, yet you can’t discern the sounds anyway. You swiftly fade in a hurry, neglecting to wave goodbye for a valid pretext: the sharp ache in your chest alerted that something awful happened to your son.
**************
The Joker is lying on the floor, almost unconscious from the blood loss. The red stain under him is growing bigger and bigger, reaching the collapsed security officers that stood between J and his freedom. He was overly hyped and decided to create mayhem: being reckless provoked the dark side of his personality and he didn’t wait for his gang nor allowed the wraiths to intervene.
The Clown Prince of Crime definitely counts on his Mother’s aid, therefore he doesn’t have to worry about consequences to his endeavors. He trusts you won’t fail to show up and get him out of messy situations like this one.
“M-mother…”, The Joker wheezes as you hover over him. “Mother… h-help me…”, he begs and your hesitation puzzles your heir; his father distracted you and in exchange J got severely injured.
“… …. …. I won’t… I can’t have your father, but I’ll take you…” The Queen confesses, adamant to overcome her delay in fulfilling his wish for years. Maybe she won’t be determined like she is now if another chance will arise in the future.
“Really?...” the hope in his tone makes you sadder. “Mother…” he winces in pain, trying to touch you. “Please h-help me…It…it hurts…”
You grab his fingers and squeeze them in yours, pecking his tattooed knuckles.
“I know…I’m sorry…”
“W-why won’t you…” and he pauses, taking a last labored breath, “…help m-me?!...”
His eyelids are closing, the individual labeled as one of the worse criminals lastly fleeing the prison of his mortal half. The Joker is dead and The Prince of The Realm Below emerges from his remains, stunned to wake up next to you.
“Mother?...” he blinks and you cup his face, relieved you had the courage to do what you deferred in the past.
“It’s ok,” you smile. “You’ll get used to the sensation, give it a few moments,” you pass your hand to his burning hair, amazed at the terrifying beauty he was blessed with thanks to his ancestry.
“Boss!!!”
“Mister Joker!!”
“Mister J, where are you?” the questions echo in the deserted Block H: his henchmen finally infiltrated the area, spooked at the unnerving feeling that something is shady. When they arrived, the Asylum’s gates were open; nobody around on the street, no guards, no medical personnel, nobody they could spot anywhere on their way to pick up The Joker as instructed.
“Over here!” Frost shouts and rushes to The Joker’s corpse, swiftly taking his pulse. “Shit!” he mumbles when he detects no heartbeat.
“What the fuck?!” Panda is the second to stumble on the scene, baffled to notice his employer covered in blood wearing just a pair of sweatpants.
“We need to get out this instant!” Frost commands as the others join the small group. “Help me carry him!”
“J?..” a woman’s voice emerges. “J?” the visibly pregnant Ava runs on the empty corridor. “Oh my God!” she panics when she sees them trying to lift him up. “J?” she gently caresses his face, panicked when there’s no movement. “Is he dead?” she presses on his wounds and starts crying since the guys are quiet. “Aren’t you going to do anything??!!” she screams, desperate to acknowledge not too much can be done.
“… Mother…” The Prince articulates and you already predict his request: “… Can I stay?”
Who else understands him better to begin with? He loves the mortal and you can relate to his anguish. Of course he wants to go with you also, yet there are things that are holding him back in the human world.
“I suppose I’m condemned to ages of loneliness…” you utter and give him a violent nudge before you change your mind.
The Prince falls back into his body; The Joker gasping for air makes Frost and Panda almost drop him on the marble floor.
“J!” Ava exclaims in disbelief. “Baby??!!” she brings her ear to his lips because he’s saying something.
“Mother… Mother…” J faintly repeats and the woman misinterprets. “Yes, I’m going to be a mom and you’re going to be a dad. You already know this, hm?” she caresses his face. “Be careful!” Ava reprimands as they wrap Richard’s jacket around The Joker and Panda drags a stretcher next to them.
“Jesus boss, we thought we lost you!” Jonny adds and barely deciphers his reply:
“You’re not that lucky…”
The Joker keeps staring at The Queen and the army hidden to the rest of them: she’s leaving and although weakened, he wants to apologize for generating more sorrow when she doesn’t deserve it.
“Forgive me…” J whispers and your last words only he can discern give him unexpected bliss:
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
**************
You come near the transparent wall, seeking to find consolation even if it’s impossible: Kay is on the other side, the palm of his right hand against the invisible barrier. You cover it with yours, wishing you could tell him so much but what’s the point?... He can’t hear you.
“I couldn’t bring him with me,” The Queen whispers nevertheless. “He wanted to stay… and I couldn’t force him…”
Something is trickling down your face and you touch it, confused.
What is this?! Tears don’t exist in The Underworld; a few drip on the barrier and it starts sizzling to your legion’s dismay. They sniff the bubbly fumes, curiously scratching at the expanding chain reaction: the wall is melting.
You and Kay watch the gap becoming larger and larger until there’s enough space to fit. Is this real or an illusion?!
I guess you’ll have to find out so you take a few shaky steps towards him, not being able to suppress your astonishment when he yanks you in his arms.
The Emperor is lurking in the shadows, furious his unbreakable magic is dissipating with each passing moment. Your warriors are granted free passage again and they spill inside The Kingdom Above, howling while awaiting orders.
As she hugs the man she loves, The Mother of lost spirits sneers through her clenched teeth:
“Attack!”
Also read: MASTERLIST
You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.
#the joker x reader#the joker fanfiction#the joker imagine#the joker jared leto#the joker#the joker suicide squad#joker#joker fanfiction#joker jared leto#joker suicide squad#mister j#Mistah J#dc#dcu#joker imagine
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Agent of Hope - 22
Your world falls into ruin together with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcements Logistics Division when you find out that your boyfriend isn’t one of the good guys.
Pairing: Brock Rumlow x fem!reader, Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader
Contents: Action! Injuries. Reference to and dealing with trauma. Reference to smut. Not a lot of words.
A/N: Tadaaaa!! Lots of love for liking and reblogging!! Enjoy!
22 - Change on the Rise
… Rumlow …
The first call comes in at 4PM on a Saturday. It’s short, clear, and sends Brock’s blood pumping at a rate it normally only reaches during the obsessive dreams featuring [Y/N] that forces him to jerk off. “Target S in sight”. Abandoning the half-made plans for an infiltration of a CDC-lab (in his opinion a brute insurgence would be better anyways), Brock hurries off to the TacSit room with the hopes of establishing a live connection to the agent at the scene. Goddamnfinally!
The primary objective was pure damage control at first which, after a few days, extended into an alteration in the official plan: eliminate any advantage Rogers and his bunch of bastards might have as if that hadn’t been standard for ages. After some discussions, the leadership allowed to recover (alive) what’s been lost - the cost being the unsupervised leadership of Project S, as dealing with [Y/N] and her visions was dubbed. Brock decided he could live with that, knowing that upervision is a hell of a lot better than no involvement at all.
“What’s the status?” he barks the moment the door swings open for him.
Frantic fingers push buttons lit by the bluish glow of screens before a headset is thrust his way. There’s a moment of silence in the headphones, then a small plop before the faint noises of the city can be heard along with a quiet, monotone narration of the events. No visual.
“Reinforcements ‘bout ten minutes out,” the voice of the agent explains.
It’d been pure chance. After ages without unscheduled trips, [Y/N] and the Widow have broken cover by leaving the tower for something as stupid as a stroll and window shopping. It’s tempting to think it’d be a simple takeover, but nothing involving Romanoff is simple and any relaxation she shows is a cover for plans A, B, and all the way through Z.
The agent is tailing them through a street market when the dreaded words are heard: “Shit! Lost sight of Widow…”
There are a few tomb-quiet seconds where no one dares to breath.
“Hold this, please.” Spoken by a perfectly calm woman the request heard over the line makes the hairs on Brock stand on end.
There’s nothing they can do at HQ beside listening to the sudden still of breath before a wheezing gurgle, nor the evident handling of the earpiece before the connection is cut (probably crushed under a boot).
“ETA on team?” It’s a judgement call Brock has to make whether to call off the reinforcements or not.
“Engaging right now, sir.” Burn the fucking bridges, then. A screen flashes to show a crude map with a bunch of small dots clustered very close together indicating the approximate positions of the team members. “Switch to channel three for audio.”
His fingers know the way to the little button on the side of the headset, clicking it twice to get to listen in. With no eyes on the situation, Brock is forced to stay quiet as anything he says only will serve as a potential distraction, but it’s frustrating to hear the grunts and surprised shouts before the first clear word comes through the line: shooter. That’s the last Brock hear from the team.
… Reader …
“OW!”
“I know. Hold still…” the self-appointed Nurse Natasha orders patiently but pauses for a moment in the task of wrapping your hand, “at least you didn’t break it.”
You cast another glance at the x-ray displayed on the screen. “Feels like it…maybe we should call a doctor before you c’ntinue?”
“Ha!”
With steady hands, your love winds the elastic dressing around the thumb, careful to smooth is out, and of course it hurts…but honestly not a lot more than it would anyways, and you know you’ve gotten off lightly - your last experience with a Hydra ambush had ended differently. The memory makes you shiver. You still have nightmares randomly during the week, and the attack today is almost a guarantee that tonight will be a bad one even if the only physical result is a sprained thumb, and a bruised cheek and upper arm. Damn, Hydra goons must be made of steel.
A sound by the door to the infirmary startles you, the resulting movement causing the pain to flare up. How can everyone move so quietly? Even munching on a sandwich (coffee in the other hand), Clint sidles over with nothing but the softest of tread.
“Guess no one’s taught you ‘ow to throw a punch, huh?” he comments dryly.
Pain or not, the guy has a tendency to state the obvious. “Not yet, no, thank you very much.”
“Yet?” It sounds more like an off-hand comment next to the thorough inspection of Tasha’s work (pointing out tiny creases before she has a chance to fix them). “Plan on making it a habit to hit on guys?”
Groan! “Only to teach them a lesson or two…I’m gonna need lessons first though.” It gets silent enough that you can hear the faint sound of traffic almost 20 floors below. “I just…I need to know. Can’t stand being so…so useless! Y’know?”
It’s smart of Clint when he chooses a tactical retreat, granting Natasha and you some privacy, and maybe you imagine it…but isn’t that a wink before the door closes? Does he agree with me? A hint of confidence straightens your back as you wait for Natasha to secure the wrapping.
The red-head is thinking, considering all possible options and outcomes before voicing an opinion. Maybe it’s harder for her this time too because she has a more personal stake in it than she has been used to for years…and gods know she’s a tiger mom: ready to fight to protect the few near and dear to her. What will be valued highest here? The ability to protect oneself or avoid digging into a metaphorical wound that’s just starting to heal?
“Nat…”
“I – yeah, I get it and it’d be smart even if everything’s fine, I just –“ steeling herself with a breath, she meets your gaze, “on two conditions, okay?” She sees your placating shrug and takes your hands (carefully). “I won’t a…friend of mine to train you, not me.” You wait. “And I want you to see a psychologist too…in fact, I think you should do that anyways.”
Oh.
… Romanoff …
Natasha can see some of the light dwindle in [Y/N]’s eyes. Just hear me out. Physical injuries are easy enough for the former assassin to deal with but the trauma on mind and soul...well, the lessons taught in the Red Room weren’t exactly focused on that except to exploit it. I should’ve insisted on this long ago. Every argument is met with silence and downcast gaze. Sometimes a nod. Thankfully, it helps to promise women for both projects, and by the time [Y/N] accepts the conditions, Nat has already decided to call in any favour needed to get none other than Maria Hill to assist with the self defense.
“Please,” the coming trainee says meekly, “don’t tell anyone I’ll be seeing a shrink.”
Ingrained taboo? “I think Steve and I are the only ones that haven’t made use of it…and I’m not even sure about Cap.” She tilts the somber face up again. “It’s not weakness to need help like that, babe. It’s strength. It’s tough, but I know you’ll come to like it, so to say.”
“Logic’ly…urgh…I guess it makes sense but I just…wanna forget!” There are tears in the [Y/E/C] eyes from both the prospect as much as the knowledge that: “I can’t forget, though.”
#Agent of hope mcu fanfiction#natasha romanoff#Natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#Black Widow#Black widow x reader#Black widow x you#Natalia romanova#natalia romanova x you#natalia romanova x reader#Brock Rumlow#Former Brock Rumlow x you#Former Brock Rumlow x reader#Crossbones#clint barton#Hawkeye#Hydra#Avengers#SHIELD#hurt/comfort#fluff#trauma#dealing with trauma#mental care#mcu#mcu fanfiction#mcu fanfic#mcu fanfic series#agent of hope#it takes ages to tag
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https://takashi0.tumblr.com/post/188399544960/the-dc-comics-and-adam-taurus
@takashi0 OP has me blocked so I gotta do this to show you.
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Um... I think OP might be projecting something that wasn’t intended or shown really.
First, Adam isn’t very...charismatic in the comic. In the example given, he’s not shown flirting with Blake nor is it implied through any visuals (such as a smirk off screen or a glint in an eye) that he is purposefully trying to get Blake to like him. If that was the purpose of the scene then a single panel of Adam smirking would have fixed this issue but as it stands, between the lack of evident malice from Adam and Blake’s own narration, I get the feeling the comic is telling me Blake got a crush on Adam not through his manipulation but from her own naivety.
Yes, there is some dread in Blake acting that way and promising Adam...but then again, Blake really shouldn’t be acting like this. She’s naturally an introvert so even if we were to chalk up the entirety of Blake’s personality to being changed by her tramua, she should still show some aspect of this version in her current form (i.e. Volume 6). But she doesn’t. She doesn’t act carefree or light or bubbly. She acts caring and with a desire to help but nothing like what she is shown in the comic. Again, she acts more like Ruby.
Then we have the OP talking about Blake...being dull as she faces the truth about who Adam is... with this scene.
Issue is, just before she said this, Blake called Adam a monster. She did register how bad Adam was before, now she should be looking determined to leave him (since this is the night before she leaves Adam.)
The next part is talking about how Adam could never have taken a different path in life...because of his boast in the comic. Which...doesn’t work. At the beginning of the comic, Sienna Khan was speaking to everyone about Adam’s mission, implying she was the leader of the WF. Which means this whole comic takes place after the first scene in the Adam Character Short, where he was shocked that he killed a human in defense of Ghira, the then leader.
‘ He never cared for the Faunus cause, he never cared for Blake. He never cared for anyone but himself.’
This is literally the only part I can agree with...and even that comes with me being iffy since I get the feeling it also means ‘Adam is fundamentally a bad person’ which isn’t the case in the show.
Of course Adam wasn’t constantly horrible to Blake. Of course he sometimes seemed to be genuinely nice to her. Of course she actually liked him at one point. If none of those things were true then she never would have stayed as long as she did.
No, abusers will be nice sometimes. Even most of the time at the beginning. They’ll only let their true colours show occasionally because they need to isolate their victim first, like Adam did by convincing Blake to leave her parents behind to join him.
Only once they’ve made sure their victim is dependent on them will the ratio of “nice” moments compared to “bad” moments start to swing as they no longer need to try as hard to ensure their victim is too afraid to leave as they don’t know what they would do without their abuser anymore.
Except that Adam was nice...once in the comic. The rest has the art portraying him as a victim with no stings attached (hence his hesitation for Blake to see him without his mask mirroring the comic trope of a lover seeing their supposed SO’s scarred face). Wouldn’t it make more sense if Adam was trying to use pity and endearment to entrap Blake rather than just being nice?
So yes, of course Blake liked Adam to begin with and of course he wasn’t unremittingly nasty to her all of the time. None of that changes the fact that he is a perfect portrayal of an abuser and you only have to look at how much her time with him affected Blake to see what a toxic influence he had on her life.
Except with the comic...he never directly abuses her. Nor is Blake’s narration about her abuse at his hands. It’s all about how Blake thought he was a pitiful victim to seeing him as a monster, Hell, her narration is all about how she was ‘spellbound and ‘intoxicated with him, which doesn’t fit with abuse thing. And it all began with her talking about how she should have run when she saw the ‘real Adam Taurus’ (even though the comic never shows Blake watching Adam kill others or sacrifice others and the comic is suppose to be for newcomers and thus stand on it’s own.)
Because of the fact that he separated her from her parents as a teenager and convinced her that they were traitors, she genuinely believed that Ghira and Kali would hate her when she returned home.
...But the comic shows Blake joining him of her own accord. The Adam Short is closer to this.
Because of the fact that he undermined her judgement until she was only capable of judging herself, she second guesses her every decision and believes herself to be all of the awful things he told her she was because she doesn’t trust herself to see things clearly.
But the comic never tells or shows us that he undermined her judgement. Again, the Adam Short does that.
Because of the fact that he made everything her fault to avoid responsibility for his own actions, she actually wished that she had still been terrified of him because she thought it might have spared Yang the loss of her arm.
Again, it never shows us Adam blaming Blake for anything. For the third time, that’s the Adam Short and the Volume 3 finale.
Really, this highlights two very big issues I have with the Blake comic I never touched on.
A. Barely anything happens in the comic. Blake meets Adam and sees him cry, Adam just takes her home, Blake meets up with Adam again and says she won’t be afraid of him, montage of their adventures with Blake taking off his mask at one point, Blake finds out about Adam’s selfishness, he brags, Blake pushes back and the flashback ends. The montage didn’t even really display anything suspicious about Adam except maybe one panel where Adam shoots a guy whose about to split Blake’s head like a watermelon with an ax...which is stretching it.
Nothing showing Adam being excessively violent, Nothing really pertaining to their relationship since it officially begins in the montage and ends in the final panels of the flashback, nothing showing Adam sacrificing men for his own gains.
ANd B.Again, the show does this so much better with the Black Trailer having Adam try to blow up non-hostile train employees, The Adam short showing Adam specifically targeting Blake’s parental issues to get her off his back about his violence and Volumes 2 and 5 where he shows no concern for the deaths of his men and then tries blowing them up along with Blake for petty revenge.
Had the comic shown a specific moment for the entire time to flesh out what things were like between them, like in the Adam Short with his scene with Blake, then the issues wouldn’t have existed. But since they’re trying to cram their meeting, their meet back up, their adventures and the lead up to her ditching him there’s no time to properly convey what the comic wants to.
Thus it’s basically an inferior Adam Short, meant to give background between Blake and Adam and what lead things up to that point but the Short is quick and efficient while the comic is not.
TL;DR - The comic only reinforces Adam’s already obvious abusive nature and serves to show what a toxic presence he was in Blake’s life.
We...didn’t need the comic for this. At all.
Blake’s fear of the guy and the bastardization of the organization her parents worked for (and everything she stood for) sells his toxic presence and his actions towards Blake, like him purposefully attacking Yang because he knew Blake knew her or him targeting her issues about her parents in order to get her more attached to him, sell his abuse. As well as how he fell from grace through Sienna lionizing him and encouraging actions that would feed his worst aspects for her own gain; how destructive he is for EVERYONE and not just Blake through getting his own men captured or killed; how he’s constantly out for revenge against humans through his supremacist preaching and his desire for violence and more.
If the comic was suppose to show Adam as an abuser, they should have shown us the fighting they had. If the comic was to show how Blake was damaged by him, it should have shown us how he affected her. What I get from the comic is that it’s suppose to be about how Blake was a fool for falling for Adam and her regret...which isn’t helped by the art conveying them as unironically good lovers until the very end.
As for OP’s interpretation: I saw this a lot on Twitter. It seems to be based around trying to make Adam seem as morally black as possible instead of accepting that he’s a tragic figure. (kind of like how people try to make him look like a pseudo-morally gray but really morally white guy instead of a guy who does bad things but with a reason for why he does them).
That’s my thoughts.
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I wrote a Voltron: Legendary Defender X Steven Universe oneshot!
It was supposed to be, like, a 1k word cute little blurb, but it ended up at over 5k because I have absolutely no self-control. Also posted over at:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/17733932
https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13203652/1/Close-Encounters-of-the-Gem-Kind
Also, this is technically part of a larger gamut of crossovers, but this isn’t really connected to those, so feel free to enjoy this on its own!
It’s kind of funny, how much of a backwater the Milky Way is considered to be. Pidge likes to think so, at least - how many humans throughout history have proclaimed Earth to be the center of the universe? It couldn’t be further from the truth, of course, but that certainly didn’t stop them.
The reality is that galactic civilization is practically nonexistent around these parts. There’s nothing like the ancient Alteans, and certainly not like the universe-spanning Galra Empire here, and it shows; the Milky Way lacks any kind of hub worlds, or even designated hyperlanes. It’s the Wild West out here - or, more accurately, the galactic equivalent of an empty Denny’s parking lot at two a.m.
Still, it’s nice to almost be home again. She didn’t expect to be headed back so soon - heck, part of her didn’t expect to return to Earth at all - but it seems Allura found herself a heart, and is allowing the Paladins of Voltron a brief, week-long window before they really take the fight to the Galra for them to let their families know they’re, y’know, still alive.
For how much longer, Pidge has no idea. They’re Public Enemy No. 1, but like, on an intergalactic level. That certainly doesn’t bode well for their continued well-being.
In any case, they’re a few thousand light years out - they’re doing short jumps, so as to avoid leading the Galra back to Earth - when they catch an urgent sounding alien communication, one that makes Allura frown, and summon the other Paladins to the bridge.
“What’s wrong, Princess?” -Shiro asks once he gets there, all armored up - first as always, if not for the fact that Pidge was already there, analyzing star maps with Princess Allura - confused at her expression.
“The Castle’s short range sensors have picked up what appears to be a repeating distress signal. The language is...familiar, but I can’t quite place it.” -she admits.
Shiro crosses his arms. “Familiar how?”
“Yeah, we’re super far away from ancient Altean space.” -Pidge points out.
“Altean civilization became space-faring almost a hundred-thousand years ago. We explored most of the universe.” -she says, as if it should be obvious. “We may not have colonized much, but we did visit.”
Pidge deals with this mind-boggling fact the same way she deals with most things regarding Altea or the Galra. “...oh.”
Allura looks smug, but only for a second, because Coran pipes up after only absently following their conversation. “Oh! That’s Gem code, Princess.”
Allura raises an eyebrow. “‘Gem’ code?” -she asks, on the verge of recognition.
“Yes! I guess it makes sense that they’d still be around.” -he says, eager. “Gems are inorganic life forms - they don’t eat, sleep, or drink, so they are effectively immortal. They were one of the last intelligent species we discovered before the war.”
The Princess snaps her fingers - a gesture picked up from Pidge herself. “That’s right! I remember my father leaving to meet with their diplomats.”
Shiro interrupts the nostalgia train. “Then let’s take a detour and see if we can help them out. Earth can wait just a little longer.”
Allura doesn’t seem like she appreciates the commanding tone, but she clearly agrees, immediately bringing up the Castle’s controls. “Generating wormhole now.”
Lance, Keith, and Hunk come together into the bridge as the starship accelerates into the rift. Seconds later, they re-enter realspace, only to find themselves staring at an ongoing space battle some two thousand kilometers in the distance.
“Well, that can’t be good.” -Lance says, helmet under his arm. He doesn’t sound particularly worried.
“What the hell are the Galra doing so close to Earth again?” -Keith asks, crossing his arms. He, in turn, does. Angry-worried, at any rate.
Lance cringes. Pidge is fairly certain he didn’t put two and two together. “Oh, yeah, that too.”
Allura immediately takes command. “Coran, jam their comms. Paladins, to your Lions.”
The five of them grimly fall into place, taking the chute to their respective giant mechanical familiars. The Paladins burst out into the void, supernatural roars audible even in the oppressive silence of vacuum.
“What are we looking at, here?” -Shiro asks everyone.
“Hands, mostly.” -Hunk says drily. “It’s not just me, right? Everybody else can see the multi-colored giant hands shooting at the Galra fleet?”
Hunk has a knack for summing up the crazy situations Team Voltron usually encounters, and this is no exception. Indeed, a fleet of massive, human-accurate, hand-shaped warships is trading blasts with a Galra dreadnought and about a dozen cruisers. They’re about half the size of the Castle of Lions each, which means they’re all dwarfed by the Galra capital ships. Pidge can make out green and yellow ones, mostly, but there’s a couple blue ones in there, too. She also notices that, while they’ve obviously suffered some damage, the hand ships are all still more or less intact, while a couple Galra cruisers have already become superheated chunks, slowly falling towards the planet, caught in its gravity well.
Judging by the fleets’ positions - the Galra are sandwiched between the planet and the Gem warships - the Galra got here first, and the hands are reinforcements for the Gems below.
“It doesn’t matter what they’re shaped like. They’re outnumbered and we’re here to even those odds.” -Shiro finally says. “Allura, can you contact the Gems? We don’t need them shooting us, too.”
“I will try. I’m not sure the Castle’s translator software includes Gem language.”
“It included human, didn’t it?” -Lance asks rhetorically. “Er, I mean English.”
“No, it did not. English was just relatively easy to decipher. Gem language, on the other hand, seems to be a combination of computer code and spoken word. We’ll whip up a message, but there’s no telling if they can even recognize it for what it is.”
“It’ll have to do.” -Shiro says as they enter firing range for the Lions’ main cannons. “Lance, Keith, focus on the fighters - try to draw them away from the Gem fleet. The rest of us will take out the Ion Cannons. Stay on your toes, everyone.”
The Paladins split into their respective groups - Pidge feels a bit awkward going with the heavy hitters, but her and Green are probably second worst at dog-fighting, so she gets it - and get to work. The Galra immediately begin attacking them instead, completely ignoring the Gem warships, likely overcome by their desire to please ol’ Zarkon with a nice, Voltron-themed gift basket.
Pidge is pleasantly surprised; they’ve only been at this for about a month - just last week, they saved the Balmera and its rocky inhabitants - but they already fight like a coherent unit. Part of it is the Garrison’s training, sure, but this newfound success is largely owed to the mystical link they all share as Paladins. She’s aware that Keith just melted down a squad chasing Lance, that Shiro just took a Jaw Blade to the dreadnought’s main battery, and that Hunk just spotted a cruiser’s Ion Cannon targeting her. Pidge simply dodges out of the way at the last second, letting the overwhelmingly powerful blast tear through the cruiser behind her and Green.
With the final Ion Cannon disabled, the Castle of Lions moves in. Particle blasts pepper the Galra fleet, which wastes no time in retaliating, but these bolts come from point-defense cannons - they’re meant to take down fighters and other such small ships, like the Lions technically are. The Castle’s barrier holds steady against this attack.
“I am detecting a significant Galra field presence on the planet.” -Allura says. “Several hundred Sentries, at the very least, possibly some Galra officers. They seem to be attacking a major Gem installation.”
“Then we better finish this up quick.” -Shiro says. “Everyone, regroup! Let’s form Voltron!”
The Lions roar in unison, flying towards a relatively safe point in space, and begin the morphing process. Pidge has studied it before from the Castle’s recordings, frame by frame, but in the heat of the moment, she can’t quite tell what’s going on - only that she’s now not quite just Pidge Gunderson, or Katie Holt, but a vital component of the immensely powerful whole that is Voltron. There are no longer five Lions and their respective pilots, there is the titanic warrior and their collectively melded minds.
Well, that’s what it’s supposed to be like, she instinctively knows. Eventually. But they’re all still rather new at it, so they still speak up like they’re separate individuals.
“Form Shoulder Cannon!” -Shiro commands, and Hunk immediately complies. The Cannon materializes, targets the remaining cruisers, and fires, swirling ribbons of deadly light tracing wild paths for a second or two before reaching their marks, burning through thick hulls and the decks within. Cataclysmic explosions tear some of the vessels apart, while those that survive are left like wounded beasts, venting atmosphere and spitting out plasma.
The dreadnought is mostly undamaged still, and its repair crews have managed to get the Ion Cannon somewhat operational again - they probably should’ve ripped it off instead of just slicing at it - and so it fires at them.
Before Shiro can call it out, Pidge is already forming the shield. It’s just in time, too, snapping into place as the beam reaches Voltron. Purple energy flares out around them, dissipating into harmless, free-floating ions a couple dozen miles out.
Voltron’s wings return to their original position, and Shiro bellows: “Form Sword!”
“Wait!” -Allura calls out. “Incoming energy signature!”
They turn, and sure enough, a massive shape warps into the battlefield. It’s a complete yellow right arm, a little longer than the Galra dreadnought, and its fist is clenched. It zips past Voltron at ramming speed, completely heedless of the fact that the dreadnought is charging another shot.
“Why aren’t they dodging?” -Lance asks the question on everyone’s mind.
The answer is apparent as soon as the beam washes over the yellow hull, and does absolutely no damage.
“Jesus.” -Hunk says. “What the heck is that arm made of?”
The arm then smashes into the bow of the dreadnought, sending it backwards in spite of its powerful engines trying to compensate. Voltron boosts towards the two warships, but stops in its tracks just as they’re about to reach them, as what looks like a large, yellow bubble - about the size of Black’s protective particle barrier - sprouts from the arm’s surface.
“Is that a woman?” -Lance asks, dumbstruck, as the bubble disappears, leaving behind its single occupant.
Pidge is not as impressed by the person’s apparent gender, as she is by their sheer size - they’re about as tall as the Black Lion while sat on its haunches. Their skin and helmet-shaped hair is the same yellow shade as the arm ship, and they’re wearing what looks like a short tailcoat, olive pants, and brown boots. A square, equally yellow gemstone about as tall as Shiro protrudes from their chest - and, strangely enough, it’s the only part of their body showing up on Green’s sensors.
“I...I guess that’s a Gem.” -Shiro says, his usual stoic composure broken up a bit by the sheer awe this being provokes. Judging by the off-the-charts telemetry Green can make out on them, Pidge is more inclined to label them as some kind of pseudo-divine being.
The giant person spares a brief look for the stunned Voltron, before becoming enveloped in a crackling electric aura, raising their left hand, and blasting the Ion Cannon.
The superweapon briefly becomes incandescent, then explodes, and so does the superstructure beneath it. The Gem then leaps, seemingly unaffected by the lack of gravity, and smashes into the burning wreckage of the Cannon, plunging into the dreadnought’s innards.
“Should we help?” -Keith asks, uncertain.
Lance scoffs. “Help!? Let’s throw her at Zarkon!”
Shiro shakes his head as small, fiery holes begin to violently blow through the warship’s hull. “Let’s leave them to it. I know for a fact the Galra don’t have anything inside that can actually put up a fight. Split up and head to the surface, instead.”
Voltron breaks apart into its constituent Lions, which begin the descent into the Gem world. Pidge notes, somewhat uncomfortably, that the hand ships have moved in, literally grabbing onto the wrecked Galra warships. It reminds her of Facehuggers, which, now that she’s an intergalactic traveller on the regular, she can only hope exist solely in movies.
The planet below isn’t really one to write home about; it’s a lifeless rocky world, not unlike a large Mercury, its thin atmosphere is primarily nitrogen-based - but the mixture is unbreathable for most life forms, humans included - and its soil is rich with aluminum oxides. Why the Gems would choose to settle here, Pidge has no clue. Maybe they like inhospitable worlds? They’re inorganic, so...maybe they’re not all that bothered by them?
The atmospheric burn doesn’t last long, even with the added challenge of dodging the falling debris caused by the battle above, and soon they’re diving through the thin cloud layer. Several artificial structures dot the landscape on the way to the battlefield - enormous columns beaming with light, intricate spires reaching towards space, and colosseum-like buildings floating between the clouds. The ground battle is taking place near a massive canyon network, inlaid with Gem machinery. This is where most of the Gems on the planet are concentrated, if sensor data is to be believed. Then again, their sensors can only pick up the individual gemstones on their bodies, so it’s really anyone’s guess.
“So, what’s the plan? A bombing run, maybe?” -Lance suggests.
“Negative. Some of the Gems seem to be fighting hand-to-hand with the Galra.” -Shiro says. “We’d be risking hitting them, too.”
“So, let’s join them. Let’s fight on foot.” -Keith says. Of course he does.
Hunk groans. Pidge winces to herself, too. Neither of them are too into the pedestrian portion of Paladinhood. “Let’s land nearby and try to find their commanding officer. They’ll probably know where we’ll be the most useful.” -Shiro says, finally.
The Lions come in hot, dust blowing as the massive mechs trot to a stop. Pidge readies herself, manifesting her bayard and hoping against hope that she won’t have to use it.
She runs out of Green’s mouth, meeting up with the others. All their weapons are out already. Shiro leads the way, approaching a small outpost from which a dozen Gems seem to be observing the nearby battle. None of them have anything she can identify as a gun; she spots some spears, a warhammer, several swords, and a bow and arrow. The weapon selection seems highly paradoxical, given their apparent technological prowess, but, then again, Keith’s bayard turns into a sword, too, and that’s über-advanced Altean techno-sorcery.
The next thing she notices is that the Gems are...eerily similar. Even the Balmorans were easier to tell apart; there are three types, all completely different from the last. The smallest are a head shorter than her, all colored in similar shades of red, with thick but stubby arms and legs, and a sort of blocky afro for hair. Their gemstones are all over the place - back of the hand, knee, chest, forehead, nose. Same goes for the other two kinds; one is about as tall as a full grown Galra, their stone an upright rectangle in the middle of their chest, with a poofy head of cheddar-colored hair, orange skin, a red jumpsuit, white gloves and boots, and a glittery yellow-red cape, and a green colored Gem with a triangular gemstone for an eye, a perfectly square head of light yellow hair, and odd, free-floating fingers manipulating some kind of hard-light screen.
“Greetings. We are the Paladins of Voltron.” -Shiro announces, following protocol because he’s, well, Shiro. “We picked up your distress signal, and have come to help.”
Pidge half expects to hear gibberish back from the Gems, but when the tall, orange one replies, it’s in perfect english. “Oh? Is that so?”
Their tone takes all of them aback. It’s the condescending ‘it’s cute that you think you know better than me’ kind of voice Pidge knows very well from years of...overachieving in academic endeavors. It’s also far from the way you’d expect a Commander in trouble to sound like. “Uh...yes? We’re at your service. Where do you need us?”
They languidly turn to the green Gem. “Peridot, where do we need the Paladins of Voltron?”
Pidge vaguely remembers something about the mineral peridotite coming from the Earth’s mantle. Peridot’s voice is kinda nasal, and she sounds...bored. “Ruby squadron theta is requesting assistance, my Hessonite.”
Judging by the way the small, red Gems worriedly fidget at the mention, they’re Rubies, too. Now the colony makes sense; aluminum oxide forms corundum, a mineral real life rubies - and sapphires, which Pidge is guessing is another type of Gem - are found in.
Hessonite hums. “Well, there you go. Go, go! I’d love to watch.”
The Paladins look at each other in confusion, but silently decide not to think about it too much. They rush towards the nearest fight, which is definitely going in the Gems’ favor.
The Rubies may lack any sort of projectile weaponry, but they don’t seem to be fazed much by the Galra Sentries’ laser blasts. They wince and yelp when hit, but otherwise continue charging. They’re also surprisingly strong, taking down the drones in a single punch more often than not. Still, the Paladins join in, blasting and slicing away at the robots. Again, their teamwork has experienced a marked improvement. They’re hardly commandos, but they cover for each other’s weaknesses fairly well. Most of the Rubies ignore them, but a couple of them cheerfully greet and thank them - with the absolute cutest voice ever - before moving on to the next skirmish.
That’s when the first Galra tank pops up over a nearby ridge, points at the departing Rubies, and shoots.
The plasma burst explodes at their feet, and when the smoke clears, one lays groaning face-down, while only a circular, soot-covered gemstone remains of the other. “Lance, Hunk, cover fire!” -Shiro barks out. He dives to cover the Ruby with his body, while the Paladins distract the tank. Pidge and Keith follow suit, bringing up their particle shields, since a squad of Sentries has taken aim at them.
“I’m...sorry about your friend.” -Shiro says, gravely. A large, striped, yellow-orange Gem with a mane of white hair roars past them, and absolutely demolishes the Sentries shooting at them. It’d be funny, if someone hadn’t just died before her eyes.
The Ruby - her gemstone is on her right knee - seems very confused. “What? She’s fine, she’s right there! Not even chipped or anything.” -she says, all earnest and adorable, pointing at the gemstone on the ground. “Haven’t you guys ever seen a Gem poof before? It happens to us Rubies all the time…”
Ah. Pidge thinks she gets it, now. That’s why Green’s sensors and her armor’s onboard systems can’t make out anything but the actual gemstone: the humanoid body is some kind of light construct. The gem is the Gem.
The Gem blanks out for a second, then looks at them with guilt. “Um, listen, I have to go.” -she say. “We’ve been ordered to defend the western entrance to the Kindergarten.”
Keith balks. “You have children here!?”
The Ruby doesn’t seem to understand that word. “No? We have a vein of potential Sapphires, though, so we can’t let the organics anywhere near there.” -she explains, then grabs the other Ruby’s gemstone from the ground and hands it to a very surprised Shiro. “We’re supposed to leave poofed soldiers behind, but...she’s my friend. Just...take care of her until she reforms, please?” -she pleads.
Knee Ruby doesn’t wait for an answer, just bolting - well, more like hup-hup-hup-ing - towards the western side of the canyon network. Hunk and Lance return, fresh from taking out the Galra tank. “Oh cool!” -Lance says, catching the glint of the scarlet gemstone. “That’s gotta be worth like, a cool million.”
“This is, apparently, a person.” -Pidge says, rolling her eyes.
“Wait, what? I thought they were just really into body mods.”
Keith shakes his head. “Were you not paying attention to your Lion’s sensors?”
Lance scowls. “Don’t sass me, Kogane. I’ve got Earth on my brain right now and not much else.”
Shiro puts his flesh and blood hand on Lance’s right pauldron. “We all do, but we need to focus for now.” -he says, understanding, rising as he cautiously pockets the gemstone. “Let’s try to find the Galra commander.”
Pidge pipes up. “Oh, let me.” -she says, then closed her eyes. She finds that thread in the back of her mind and pulls on it, grabbing Green’s attention. Their connection is nowhere near as good as it could be, one day, but this is more than enough for now.
Green is more in tune with life than any of the other Lions - as in, she can sense living organisms better than any of the others - so Pidge asks her to scan the horizon for living Galra combatants. Green roars, and a quick scan later, the actual Galra on this world are marked, and their location relayed to the Paladins. Disturbingly, Green detects none in orbit.
Shiro takes a moment to strategize. “Okay. There’s three groups of Galra soldiers. One seems to be established at their FOB, and lightly guarded - Pidge and Lance, you take those out, and see if you can figure out why the Galra are so close to Earth in the first place. Another squad is establishing static defenses nearby - Keith and Hunk, that’s you. I’ll join the Gems in taking down the ones fighting alongside the remaining Sentries.”
Pidge grimaces. She’s no stranger to taking lives by now - Galra warships may be mostly crewed and defended by robots, but there’s still an organic element in command, and she’s taken down several - but killing up close is an entirely different matter. Something tells her that her mantra of ‘one less Galra is one less obstacle between me and my family’ probably won’t cut it this time around.
Goddamn it, she’s fifteen.
Lance winks at her. Pidge doesn’t think much of it, considering he flirts with pretty much every being that could be argued to be sapient. “Think you can keep up, Pidge?”
“Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice.” -she replies, deadpan. Pidge turns to Shiro. “I might not be able to interface with their tech without your arm, just so you know.”
“Try it anyway. If you can’t, just destroy their outpost.” -he says.
They split up, and head towards their targets. It’s a short hike, made only a bit sluggish by the debris from the battle. Pidge spots several dormant gemstones among the broken Sentries.
“So, why do you think they all look like girls?” -Lance asks.
“Let’s not assume their gender.” -she says. “We don’t even know if they have one.”
“No, I get that. I’m just saying, they do present themselves as feminine, more or less.”
“Well, it’s not like we’ve met them all. Maybe those Sapphires the Ruby talked about look different.”
Lance hums. “And the big one? What kind of Gem do you think she is?”
Pidge jet-boosts past a Galra hovertank that looks like it’s been physically crushed. “A Topaz, maybe? I don’t know that many yellow gemstones. Could be a Yellow Diamond too, I guess.”
“Yeah, that sounds pretty regal.” -he says. “She’s gotta be like, their queen or something, right?”
“If they’re the leader of Gemkind, fighting on the front lines would be a very poor judgement call. There’s a reason Zarkon’s lived to rule ten thousand years. He just spits out orders from his throne room.”
“Well, that plus magic, right?”
She sighs. As much as she’d love to say that ‘magic is just really fancy tech they don’t understand yet’, she’s seen enough weird Altean and Galra bull to recognize that the phrase is worthless in reality.
“...yeah, that too.”
Her HUD flashes red in warning, just as they’re about to crest the hill overlooking their target. She looks up, and sees a fragment of burning Galra hull falling towards their general vicinity.
“Uh...Pidge? Is that headed for…?”
“Us, yeah!” -she screams, grabbing his arm and punching her thruster pack to the max. They zoom away just in time, as the artificial meteor slams into the hill, the shockwave sending both of them careening across the landscape. The come to a tumbling stop a couple hundred feet away, groaning. The Paladin armor takes the worst of it, for sure, but Pidge is already dreading the bruises she’ll find when she hits the showers later today.
“Are you okay?” -Lance asks.
She shakes her head, more to check for concussions than to say no. “I’m alive.”
He steps into her field of view, offering a hand. She takes it and rises. “Are we still keeping score after this? I’m pretty sure the save is worth a lot.”
Lance smirks. “No, no, I’m pretty sure this just makes us even.”
“What? For what?”
“Sendak, remember?”
“Oh. Yeah, I guess that’s true.” -she says. If not for his clutch save, the cyborg might’ve taken them out, instead of the other way around. “I’m pretty sure the game is over anyway, they’re probably all dead by now.”
Lance raises an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
“The fragment that almost hit us, it exploded in midair. The other piece should’ve landed right on top of the Galra base.”
As if to confirm her hypothesis, an explosion shakes the ground on the other side of the hill. Lance winces. “Alright, let’s go check it out.”
They nearly crest the ridge, before they’re stopped in their tracks. A Galra soldier pops over the hill, running towards them. Pidge brings her bayard to bear, but it’s ultimately unnecessary. It’s the briefest of moments, and the most terrifying sequence of events she’s witnessed in this little space opera she’s on: a blinding light appears behind the Galra, catches up to him, and consumes him. As in, when the glow subsides, the alien has completely vanished. Disintegrated, presumably.
“Oh my God.” -Lance says. Funny, Pidge didn’t peg him for a God-fearing man. Teenager. Yikes, she’s already rambling.
The Galra’s killer soon becomes apparent, as the massive yellow Gem they’d seen in space nonchalantly walks toward them, each step shaking the ground beneath their feet. Pidge can’t quite nail why it’s so different from staring up at the Lions; the height is similar after all, but the approaching Gem is so much more intimidating. Maybe it’s the humanoid shape. Maybe it’s their irritated frown.
It’s probably the fact that their electric aura still crackles as they approach.
“I had not realized that humanity had achieved spaceflight.” -they say. Their voice is definitely feminine, their tone that of someone who knows themselves to be superior. There’s an undercurrent of weariness, too, but Pidge is all but certain it’s not of the physical kind - they move like they’re on a leisurely stroll, as if they hadn’t just dropped from orbit and atomized someone. “With the amount of technology Homeworld left behind, it’s a wonder it took so long.”
The being squints at them. Pidge notices that their irises - yellow, of course - have diamond-shaped pupils.
Ah. Yellow Diamond, then.
“Then again, that armor is hardly of Gem make. Too...flimsy. Much like the rest of you organics.”
Well, that certainly sounds like an insult.
“Not just any organics.” -Lance says. He’s afraid, and covering it up with bravado. Classic Lance. “We’re the Paladins of Voltron, ma’am.”
Yellow Diamond seems...unimpressed. “Is that what you call the waste of quintessence I saw in orbit, Blue Paladin?”
“What do you mean waste? Voltron is like, the most powerful weapon in the universe!” -Pidge says. So she’s feeling defensive of Green and her little found family. So fear makes her lash out a bit. Sue her.
“I mean that the amount of quintessence powering your so-called Voltron would create enough Gems to conquer every planet in every galaxy. And yet, its makers chose to concentrate all that power into five vulnerable little puzzle pieces, and then put them in the hands of humans.”
“Jesus, lady. Calm it down, will you? We wouldn’t even be here if not for your distress signal. We came here to save you from the Galra.” -Lance says. Pidge isn’t sure if it’s intentional, but he’s protectively stepped in front of her. Not that it’ll do much good once Yellow Diamond tires of this conversation and vaporizes them, but it's, y’know, a nice gesture.
“I assure you, your assistance was neither needed nor wanted. These Galra may be a threat to your kind, but as you can plainly see, they are mere annoyances for Gemkind.”
Pidge grabs Lance’s arm. “It’s okay, Lance. Maybe we should just go back to Shiro and the others.” -she suggests, rather urgently. “We’re obviously not welcome here.”
“Good. I thought perhaps I was being too subtle.” -Yellow Diamond says, disdainful. “Take your mechanical pets and leave my world, Paladins of Voltron. Return to that doomed mudball you call the Earth.”
The Gem’s aura subsides, and they turn to leave. Pidge breathes a sigh of relief because yeah, Yellow Diamond was definitely considering offing them. Green and Blue fly towards them as the massive arm ship pokes through the clouds above. The Gem matriarch leaps onto its palm, and disappears into its depths. The ship then points towards the sky, elongates impossibly, and disappears in a vortex of warped space-time.
“Yikes.” -Lance says.
“Yup.”
“That could’ve gone better.”
“Could’ve gone worse, too.” -she points out. “We’re not exactly great at diplomacy.”
“True.” -he says, as their two Lions land beside them. “Hey, what do you think she meant by calling Earth doomed?”
Pidge shrugs. Her nerves are a bit too frayed to really think about it. “Global warming? I dunno, Lance. I just hope we never get to ask her. At least, not in person.”
“Yeah, no argument here.”
They board the Lions, and head towards their fellow Paladins. They’re already taking off, and it’s not hard to figure out why.
“Gems are nuts, you guys.” -Hunk says when they join them. “Like, not even the fact that even their tiny Ruby guys could toss me around like I weigh about half a Pidge…”
“Hey!”
“...they turned on us the moment the Galra were done! We didn’t even have a chance to give them their buddy back!”
Pidge’s eyebrows shoot up. “You kept the Ruby!?”
“I did.” -Shiro says, gravely. “Which means this won’t be the last time we deal with the Gems. We’ll have to figure out a way to approach them safely, now that we know that they aren’t exactly friendly.”
“Earth first though, right?” -Lance asks, hopeful, then amends himself. “I mean, I don’t know about you, but I desperately need some strictly human comforts. Pizza, videogames, beautiful human women…”
Pidge laughs to herself. Trust Lance to ruin a somber moment, even if it’s his own. The internal laugh is, admittedly, a little hysterical - they did just meet a space goddess, after all.
Shiro smiles. “Earth first, Lance.”
#voltron#VLD#steven universe#ruby#hessonite#peridot#jasper#(but not our jasper)#squaridot#lance mcclain#takashi shirogane#keith kogane#pidge gunderson#katie holt#allura#coran hieronymus wimbleton smythe#fanfic#crossover#yellow diamond
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1) I’ve been re-watching the Ultron/Break Up Arc and I have decided that there are some issues with Steve in that arc. So, we all know Steve is Tony’s biggest supporter and is always trying to boost his confidence and all that jazz. So to suddenly see him so against Tony’s leadership when Tony’s been reckless and thoughtless in the past seems a bit out of character, or at least a little strange considering everything that they’ve been through and all the reckless things Tony has done in the past
2) Also, I understand what Tony is supposed to learn while broken, don’t always be reckless and know when to ask for help, I got that. But I don’t really understand what Cap is supposed to learn, he played outside the rules when rules is exactly what he wanted. He complained about Tony’s leadership being disorganized and needing structure, and yet he defied orders and did what he felt was right rather than following orders like he wanted to. Tony’s Arc is very clear to me, but Steve’s isn’t.
Pre-emptive apology because this is probably going to be really rambly and go off-topic becuase I have a lot of feelings about this arc.
Ok, so first off, I don’t like this arc, and as a result I don’t really like to go rewatch it, so I might not be a strong on the details of these episode as I would be with others like, say, “The Age of Tony Stark” so, sorry about that too.
Actually getting to your first point, yes I find Steve’s leaving to be out of character, but for different reasons. Backing up a bit, the audience is really primed empathize with Tony’s desire to save Arsenal in this scene. Most episodes before this feature at the very least a cutaway to Tony working on Arsenal, and even some epsiodes that don’t like TAOTS further this by putting an emohasis on Tony’s relationship with Howard which is explicitly a reason Tony cares so much about Arsenal. Aditionally, the audience is presumably familiar with the tropes of “Robots and AI are equal to people,” and “I’m not going sacrifice my friend who is under some version of brainwashing/mind control.” All these added together means that audience is not surprised when Tony tries to avoid destroying Arsenal. This is standard hero fair. In fact one of my issues with this arc is that no one makes a connection to Bucky here since TWS falls under that latter trope and it kind of feels like Steve either is being a hypocrite or Steve doesn’t adhere to that first trope and considers Arsenal disposble, as if Tony just inherited a fancy watch from Howard, which would make sense if you consider Steve’s attitude in seaosn 3 when Ultron pulls this same trick but posesses Tony instead is different and he shows much more reluctance to attack Tony than he does in attacking arsenal, This would also further justify Steve’s anger and induce favorite Civil War trope, “GOD DAMN IT JUST TALK ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS” but wouldn’t mesh with the idea of Steve being an all around nice guy, especially given that Arsenal is generally adorable. It would be pretty hard to put Steve and Tony at equal moral footing if the writers had followed this idea to its fruition is what I’m saying, so I’ve basically just decided to let this point slide.
Getting back on track, since the audience is more likely to be on Tony’s side here, it can be easy to miss that TONY REALLY FUCKED UP. This isn’t like other times where he overestimated his skills or put more faith in his tech than his friends, Tony lied, knowing full well he wasn’t going sacrifice Arsenal, and explicitly betrayed Steve’s trust, and allowed Ultron to get away and cuase further damage that spreads into later seasons. In the scene where Steve quits there isn’t moral discussion, its Steve going “you FUCKING LIED TO ME” and Tony going “yeah, becuase I didn’t think you’d let me save Arsenal.” It’s not a moral discussion, it’s an accusation that’s accepted and then given an explanation.
WAIT A SECOND THIS IS THE FUCKING MINDWIPE WTF
The only part of that that’s out of character is that Steve doesn’t call Tony out in front of the rest of the team. The end of the second episode should have been here. Or really, the team shouldn’t split up at all, they should end up voting tobench Tony for the duration of the Ultron thing becuase he’s clearly compromised, Tony should go sulk in Malibu so we can see more of SI and maybe Pepper- and I’m getting off topic. I’m analyzing this not rewriting it. Anyway, this is why Tony’s lesson is so much clearer than Steve’s, Tony’s the one who actually has to learn a lesson. Arguably Steve’s episode is about him learning what Tony’s motivations are after interacting with the Russian Guys and seeing them go behind their superiors back to help a friend. I mean, there’s not really a clear throughline between those two things, or at least it wasn’t as obvious to me on a first viewing, and there isn’t really a resolution to it but it is a possibility.
The only thing here is, I’m wrong. Steve does have a lesson to learn. Sort of, I think. Bare with me now, so that second episode where the team officially breaks up? Before the big dramatic simulataneous break up of the show’s three main power couples, Steve brings LMD’s to a fight that he presumably strongly suspected Ultron was at. There’s no real indication that Fury or Hill or someone forced Steve to bring them. That leads to Ultron having an LMD that he can use to trick a trap Tony sets for him. We can infer that the trap would have worked on the actual Ultron and would have potentially allowed Tony to save Arsenal. Instead, Tony has to blow up the ENTIREY OF SI’s SYSTEMS becuase he caught the LMD, not the actual Ultron, allowing Ultron to infect the system.
Steve has pretty clearly fucked up here. Now, if Steve had brought the LMDs becuase he didn’t want to take the risk of going in alone or we’d seen Fury or Hill or Coulson say it’d be too risky to go in alone and Steve agreed, or if the thing was supposed to learn “let people take risks” becasue Tony’s risk using the SI system as bait would have worked if not for Steve’s actions then Steve would have had a lesson that paid off in the end of this arc when Steve tells Fury “taking a risk to save the world Tony does that 10 times before breakfast.” It would also be potentially reinforced by Steve’s episode because the Russian Guys take a risk to save their friends or something.
The only thing is, Steve never really gets called out for the LMD thing to the extent that Tony gets called out for the lying thing. Maybe this is because in Steve’s case it was honest mistake, except Tony calls him out on it twice, and Steve never counters with something along the lines of “I didn’t know Ultron was there,” or “the LMDs weren’t my choice it was a mistake, unlike when you chose to lie,” which would further highlight the severity of Tony’s actions in comparison to what he’s done in the past. Instead, when Tony calls him out on it, Steve goes “putting the blame on everyone but yourself, huh? Ultron wouldn’t even be here in the first place if you hadn’t lie,” which is flawed reasoning. It’s an Ad Hominen, Steve’s going “your argument is wrong becuase you did ‘x unrelated thing’” which doesn’t make him look good, it looks like he’s projecting. It in no way absolves Steve of guilt for the LMD thing that leads to Tony’s home and company being destroyed. Again this could have been intentional karmic punishment since Tony’s fuck up is more severe if we’re giving Stece the benefit of the doubt but I don’t think that properly telegraphed to the audience
None of this is helped by the fact the lesson in Steve’s episode is very muddled it isn’t clear what he’s getting from it at all. I can make arguments for an interpretation but I don’t think it’s as clear as with Tony.
I also kind of find the rules/ order vs chaos to be weird and out of place. As I hope I’ve adquately demonstrated, following rules doesn’t really factor into the initial conflict. It’s really more utilitarianism vs. kantianism. To me that aspect felt out of nowhere and superfluos.
Ok, I’m done. Hopefully I’ve answered your questions anon sorry it got really long. Hopefully it isn’t too rambly, I just feel like this arc has a lot of good elements and aspect that could have been explored or communicated better, and whenever I start talking about it, I kind of get all over the place.
And if anyone disagrees with my analysis, feel free to drop into my inbox. I like discussions and stuff as long as no one’s rude and accepts that everyone has different interpretations. This is just one 16 yo’s understanding of what’s going on.
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I fell in love with Lotor and then realized he's a fucking idiot
AKA: a (bad) dissertation on Lotor's potential as a character and how his motivations basically undermined all of it.
Spoilers through the end of season 6; written pre-season 7.
Let's just get my credentials out of the way first: I recently watched Seasons 1-6 of Voltron in the span of about 2 months. I am vaguely aware of some fandom discourse. I know very little about the original Voltron show or its plot except what I've gathered from a single day browsing the wiki. And finally, I love manipulative trash cans. Doesn't matter if they've got gray morality, complete amorality, or if they're just plain evil: I unironically enjoy their existence (the only exception is Ni Jianyi who terrifies me, but, well, I attribute that to good writing).
So imagine my delight when in his very first episode, Lotor demonstrated that he'd been very competently keeping tabs on the political status of the central Galran Command even while exiled by: rooting out his main opponents, publically humiliating them, and positioning his Generals strategically in the audience to ensure that the crowd's response was positive and enthusiastic, all within probably a quintant or two of getting back. ....And then he blatantly admitted to manipulating public opinion not five minutes later. ....While looking unfairly gorgeous.
As character introductions go, it set a really fucking high bar, and I think a lot of people were immediately invested in learning what his endgame was. Regardless of whether his ultimate goals were ‘good’ or ‘evil’, people expected them to be competent and..... worthy. Worthy of all the time and effort that was put into this character, and the show in general. And then S6 happened. So buckle up friends because we’re gonna take an in-depth look at his journey from potential political mastermind to... merely obsessed, like his father.
Immediately after being appointed Emperor Pro Tem, Lotor goes out and retakes a recently liberated planet to bait out Voltron. Which is.... something that we never actually saw his father do. Ever. Zarkon seemed content to let rebel planets stay lost, which is really silly and not at all a sustainable method of ruling an empire (suggesting that Zarkon probably would have lost control of a large portion of the Empire sooner or later anyway even if Voltron hadn't managed to destroy him in Blackout). Anyway, it showed that Lotor is a competent tactician, since he gets exactly the information he needs and does way more damage to Voltron than he probably expected to. He even follows up properly by calling in reinforcements to save his ass fortify the newly retaken planet, which may have given him a nice boost in popularity back home.
(It also set up a number of obvious parallels between Lotor’s Generals and the Paladins of Voltron. Excellent teamwork and loyalty? Check. Cheerful personality? Check. Big strong type? Check. Brooding, dark-haired second in command? Check. ...Wait, that makes Narti Pidge’s parallel. Or maybe Shiro’s, since she’s sometimes mind controlled....? ANYWAY. )
We start to see a couple cracks in episodes 4 and 6, because it becomes clear that Lotor is actually not spending that much time managing the Empire. He's way more interested in getting the materials to build the Sincline ships. At this point in the series he's still doing a great job of evading detection and throwing misdirection everywhere to keep Haggar from guessing what he's up to, so it starts to look like he's trying to undermine the Empire from within. I mean, think about it: he set himself up publically as a celebrity to strengthen the Empire, and then he disappeared and did none of that. He even exiled Throk, one of his biggest political enemies to Buttfuck, Space - Population: Ice Worms after his public humiliation. Which is a really bad idea if you want to keep a guy out of trouble, but a really good idea if you want to give a guy the time and space he needs to get angry, start another rebellion, and further destabilize the Empire.
Lotor has lived in exile for years; he himself is the perfect example for how people rebel when sent to some corner of the universe with minimal supervision. He should know better than anyone that exile is a bad way to actually get rid of someone, yet he does it anyway.
Season 4 pretty much cements the idea that Lotor never actually wanted to rule the current Galra Empire, and was only using its resources for his own gain. He's removed from the position of Emperor Pro Tem with minimal fuss, and probably would have been quite happy to lay low for a while afterwards.... except that his dad then tries to kill him and he does the really dumb thing. I think almost everyone agrees that killing Narti was one of the dumbest things Lotor could have done. He could knock her out? Kill the cat?? Anything other than ruin his own party???
But nah. He stabs Narti and immediately the parallels between his group of Generals and Voltron shatter, because they betray him and try to turn him in to Haggar. Or, rather, he betrayed them.... .....actually maybe the parallels still apply, because I'm pretty sure that if Kuron had actually stabbed any of the Paladins at any point, the rest would have flipped out as well, so really the entire arc may be more of a statement on Galra culture as a whole.....
ANYWAY, the whole Narti thing might look like the place where everything starts to go south, but it actually doesn't ruin any of Lotor's potential. Killing Narti could either be the callous act of someone who's bad at communication and doesn't actually care about his team (which is his team's interpretation, and a fair one), or it could be taken as a really stupid moment of panic, which I’d argue is a little more interesting, since Lotor never panics. But either way, the outcome was the same: as soon as he had control taken away from him, he turned desperate and all his flaws started to come out. Narti's death was one of the dumbest things Lotor ever did, but I also want to argue that it's the one act that opened up his narrative potential the most, because it could have sparked some interesting discussion about whether all of his actions are due to being arrogant, maladjusted, and self-absorbed... or if any can be attributed to fear.
Unfortunately, while fanfiction capitalized on that potential immediately, the show never really did. I was hoping for a season of self-reflection as Lotor used his intelligence and manipulative skills to sway Voltron to his side and overthrow Zarkon and Haggar in retaliation for his one miscalculation of the series. I wouldn't even have been mad if he had betrayed Voltron again at the end, because it would have been in keeping with his suggested characterization so far, and I like competent opponents with actual realistic goals.
Season 5 looked like it was on track! Lotor was clearly still doing his best to manipulate Voltron as much as he could from a prison cell, furthering his goals despite his enormous setback. It's not really clear how many of his accomplishments during this season are due to careful planning and how many are due to luck; did he know Zarkon would offer the prisoner exchange? Did he know Sendak was going to be at the Kral Zera? Did he know Shiro was Kuron and would secretly hand over the Black Bayard so he actually had a fighting chance against Zarkon? ....Probably no to the last one, since it hinged on Honerva remembering her son, but who knows.
Regardless, Lotor takes a lot of risks and makes a lot of progress. He actually becomes Emperor. Dude, holy shit, congrats. Take a breather and regroup!! That big of an milestone should have been enough for anyone, but instead he pushed his luck searching for Oriande, becoming completely dependent on Allura for her guidance and her protection, and then he failed the White Lion's trial. Like, completely whiffed it. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200. The S6 finale makes it clear that Lotor's morals and goals are almost completely opposite Allura's, and that should have been the perfect place to start developing him further as.... you know, an actual emperor and moral counterpoint?
Instead, we got Season 6, where Lotor turned his fakeness meter up to 11 to seduce Allura. ...Badly. Like... really badly. ... Okay, listen the nanny thing was weird, there’s no denying that. She showed up for one episode out of completely nowhere and was never mentioned again. But Lotor felt more natural during that first episode of S6 than he did the entire rest of the season while romancing Allura, and I think that was probably on purpose. His voice and his face and his smile when he spoke with Allura were all the same ones he used during his first scene in the gladiator ring, when manipulating public opinion. I don’t think we were ever really meant to believe in Lotor’s feelings for Allura when his very character was introduced with the same sort of deception.
And all of that would still have been fine if he hadn’t had such a stupid final motivation. I suppose Season 6 makes sense when you consider that his ultimate goals actually had nothing to do with the Galra Empire, but it doesn’t feel like a good culmination of his character arc. So, knowing that his ultimate goal was the creation of a new Altean Empire, Let’s briefly review:
- Lotor spent three seasons manipulating the public to gather support and popularity. The conclusion of this was Kral Zera, where he actually became Emperor. But none of this matters. “Emperor of the Galra” is actually unrelated to “Emperor of the New Alteans”, or whatever. Unless his plan was to marry Allura and spend the next 10,000 years carefully integrating his Alteans into the Galran Empire while giving them every advantage possible, becoming the Galran Emperor didn’t actually have much to do with his Altean goals. His Alteans aren’t Galra citizens. So why spend that much time making himself popular with a race he hated? Narcissism???
- Lotor may have also spent three seasons subtly supporting rebellion across the Galran Empire, because he made a couple conspicuously bad decisions when it came to handling his political opponents/rebellion planets. Conspicuously bad enough to be deliberate, given what we know of him as a competent tactician. But supporting rebellion would only have helped him if he had planned to use rebellion to take over, and we just established that being the Galra Emperor doesn’t actually help his main goals. So does that make all the seasons of subtle rebel support.... a side-effect? Carelessness? Supporting the Voltron Coalition didn’t really matter if he intended to replace Voltron with his own shiny robot.
- Lotor’s generals are all half-galra. Originally, it seemed like he had chosen to align himself with societal outcasts because he could inspire loyalty and comraderie in them, and because after a lifetime of discrimination at the hands of Central Command, they’d probably be willing to support his rebellion. That’s, like, a huge fanfic canon. But instead, his final, power-driven speech suggests that he chose half-galra Generals simply because he couldn’t stand to work with full-blooded Galra. Which makes his close-knit team and all their beautiful parallels with Voltron... accidental??
- Lotor spent let’s say... a season and a half? trying to seduce Allura. This makes the most sense out of all of his goals, because marrying into the last remaining full-blooded Altean royalty totally fits with the New Altean Empire. What’s stupid here is how he handled it. Instead of coming clean about his Altean colony and, I don’t know, properly hiding his tracks as soon as he realized he could marry royalty?? He left the quintessence farm up and running. We know Lotor can get into and out of the rift way faster than Keith and Krolia, so there was really nothing stopping him from going to hide a couple skeletons in his closet sooner than never. He could probably have won Allura’s loyalty forever if he had presented her with an Altean colony and pretended to need her help restoring Altean culture; instead, he did dumb.
I’m just... I’m sad, okay? I’m not sad because he was evil; I’m sad because he didn’t want to be his father, and he absolutely turned into his father, and there were almost no signs of that until the very end. He could have been evil and still competent! While there are parts of Lotor that are really well written, it seems like they were all pushed to the side to make way for his obsession - an obsession he wasn’t even that obsessed about previously!!! - in the final couple episodes of Season 6, and he just... does so many stupid things.
So really, in conclusion, either Lotor got quintessence sickness, Haggar made a Lotor clone while he was visiting her that one time, or we should all be more sympathetic of Zarkon's stupidity in Seasons 1 and 2 because clearly Galra politics are infuriating enough that being Emperor for a couple pheobs was enough to make Lotor lose his McFreaking Mind. Zarkon had been Emperor for 10,000 years; it's understandable that he was a little quirky.
Also, I saw a post a few weeks ago that basically said “the worst thing that can happen to Lotor is that he comes back from the void and gets obsessed with Allura like in the original show”, and I wish I could find it again, so if you know that post, pls link me. And I agree, that would really really suck, I don’t want that. But I’m hopeful that the writers just decided to adapt his character a little, so that instead of being obsessed with the Altean Princess, he was instead obsessed with Altea, and therefore that arc is already over. But I guess we’ll find out soon! Fingers crossed.
Feel free to comment with alternate interpretations of everything here!
#voltron#voltron the legendary defender#lotor#vld lotor#long post#this is a very bad dissertation#the final message is I'm sad#that's it that's the point of this post#not lotor hate though#more like#I wish you were better#this is my first post in the voltron fandom#and possibly the last#I just#lotor y#six more days my dudes#six more days
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DC Ficlet: Cassandra & Tim’s clothes sharing habit.
Inspired by this headcanon by @timdraikes.
For several decades now, Wayne Manor has been kept in perfect order by Alfred Pennyworth. While his job requirements have increased from Head Butler to Head Butler plus Vigilante Tailor plus Emergency Medic plus Surrogate Father/Grandfather, he still takes a great deal of pride in keeping the manor (and its inhabitants) in tiptop condition. He has been doing such for so long that most of it, the butler aspects at least, takes very little concentration at this point. Everyday tasks such as dusting, cooking and doing laundry can be accomplished while Alfred’s mind is on more pressing tasks, such as making sure Bruce remembers Dick’s upcoming birthday or that Tim gets at least six hours of sleep that night.
At least, he normally could afford to let his concentration shift away from his chores. As of late, however, he finds that one particular duty has taken significantly more concentration. That being laundry.
It was always so simple before. He could never mistake an article of his own clothing for something of Bruce’s. The same went for Bruce and Dick or Jason. Even when his eldest two grew large enough to possibly borrow Bruce’s casual wear items, neither likely would. They had very different tastes. Even if Tim liked something of one of his older brothers’, he would never fit into them. The same went for Cassandra. Certainly, one would never confuse any of Bruce’s laundry for Tim or Cassandra’s.
Tim and Cassandra’s clothes, however, were another story.
While Cassandra was a couple inches taller than Tim, the boy had long legs for his height and he wore his shirts longer than Cassandra did. Neither ever wore over-sized clothes or anything too tight. Instead they wore fitted, functional clothing. They also weren’t prone to anything flashy or especially trendy, with the exception of superhero logo t-shirts.
The result of all these fact was that their clothing was identical in size and not all that different in style.
Add to that the ever growing bond between the adopted siblings, and the fact they often borrowed one another’s clothing wasn’t much of a surprise.
But it did make separating their laundry a challenge at times.
Alfred looked at the plain, ‘Nigtwing blue’ t-shirt for a solid five minutes, trying to place whom it belonged to.
There was an expertly mended tear near the seam on the left sleeve. Alfred only recognized it because he had stitched it himself. He had seen Tim sitting at the Batcomputer late one evening, tired but determined, and absently fidgeting with the torn sleeve. However, a few days later, he had seen Cassandra sitting in the library trying to read a selection of Emily Dickinson poems that Barbara had recommended, tired but determined, and absently fingering the extra stitching on the repaired sleeve.
Deciding that Tim would have appeared more concerned about the tear if it had been Cassandra’s shirt he’d damaged, Alfred placed the t-shirt in Tim’s basket.
Some articles of clothing were easier than others. Anything with Superboy’s logo on it was Tim’s. It didn’t matter if Cassandra was the one to find it and purchase it, she would immediately give it to Tim. Likewise, anything with a classic Batgirl symbol was Cassandra’s. Even if Tim had been the one to select it and bring it home, he would immediately hand it over to Cassandra. Both had the understanding that the other would be allowed to borrow said article of clothing in the future, but they weren’t going to deny the other something with their favorite hero’s symbol on it.
That meant that Alfred could confidently toss the classic Batgirl yoga pants into Cassandra’s basket even though he’d seen Tim wearing them last.
The Green Lantern t-shirt he folded next gave him pause.
Tim had been wearing it the other night. Alfred remembered Tim and Dick insisting that he let them do the dishes after dinner. He’d sipped his tea at the kitchen table and talked with the boys as they cleaned. Dick had indicated the t-shirt and made a comment about Bruce suspecting Tim of fraternizing with the competition.
But he’d also seen Cassandra wearing the shirt a couple days before. He’d paused to keep an eye on her after she’d answered the door for a delivery man from Wayne Enterprises. The man had attempted polite small talk and been met with a suspicious stare. Cassandra wasn’t good with small talk and so Alfred had stepped in, allowing her to slip away.
He finally placed it aside and decided he’d place in whichever pile was smaller when he was finished.
The Superboy sweater was clearly Tim’s, even if Cassandra had been wearing it the previous morning.
The Wonder Woman hoodie was the next confounding article of clothing.
Last Thursday, Tim had been wearing it while he and Cassandra trained together. The boy had taken a particularly impressive leap that lead to a very concerning fall when Cassandra had kicked him in midair. He’d landed hard, missing the training mats entirely, and had put his sister at ease by making a joke about the new hoodie apparently not giving him Wonder Woman’s ability to fly. On Monday, Cassandra had worn the hoodie when she and Tim were back to training together again. She blocked a rubber training Batarang with her arm as if the yellow sleeve was truly Diana’s bracer, teasing that it clearly took a true warrior to harness its power and earning an enthusiastic ‘nice one’ from her brother before he quickly dodged the return fire.
Alfred decided that the Hoodie was Tim’s, since it had been declared new when he wore it. Despite how frequently they borrowed each other’s things, there seemed to be a rule about not doing so until the actual owner of said article had used it first.
Socks were easier to figure out. Cassandra always wore out the heel first while Tim’s always gave at the toes. That meant the subtle Black Canary socks were Cassandra’s, since Alfred was clearly going to have to reinforce the heel. Meanwhile the red socks that had been darned at the spot the second toe generally rested were Tim’s.
Alfred had noticed Tim wearing the Aquaman sweatpants while he was running the other day, but he had stopped Cassandra from walking out the door with the size sticker still on the thigh a few days before. Because of the unspoken ‘new item’ rule, that meant they were Cassandra’s.
Surprisingly, underwear was not as simple as one would think. The sports bras were clearly Cassandra’s, but he’d taken the obvious route with the underpants before only to see the kids discreetly trade a couple pairs. Not that the kids shared underwear, but it turned out they split a package of each style after purchase. Apparently, Cassandra liked to sleep in boxers and Tim preferred boy-shorts (which Alfred learned were actually designed for females) while he was out on patrol.
The Batgirl boy-shorts were clearly Cassandra’s and Alfred took a guess that the Batman ones were hers as well, while the Robin pair were Tim’s. He also assumed the black boxers were Cassandra’s, as she seemed to prefer the color, which meant the red pair and the ones with little Flash logos were probably Tim’s.
In the end, Alfred gave the Green Lantern t-shirt to Cassandra by process of elimination and just hoped that he had a 75% accuracy rating at the least.
While such a situation might have bothered Alfred once upon a time, he found that he didn’t mind the extra effort or confusion with the laundry. It ensured his Butler skills were as sharp as his other skills that were used more commonly as of late. It also was a side effect of having the children in the house and Alfred wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world.
Not since Dick was a young boy had Alfred seen the Manor so lively. It brought a smile to his face to hear Tim helping Cassandra with her reading, or Cassandra showing Tim a different way to take down a larger opponent with a knife. To see them washing the dishes together or raking leaves, speaking quietly to one another or simply working side by side in comfortable silence.
Watching them with Bruce was the best thing yet. He still didn’t have the most obvious paternal skills, but neither of his kids seemed to mind. They read the pride in his stance as he watched them train or return from patrol. The felt the way he lingered when one of them was injured or potentially hurt. They heard the loving words he meant to say instead of the curt ones that actually left his mouth.
Yes, Tim and Cassandra were definitely a welcomed addition to the Manor, as far as Alfred was concerned. Even if their presence meant it took him three times as long to do the laundry.
Besides, sometimes they stopped to help when they weren’t busy. They just started folding their own clothes (mimicking Alfred’s method) while they told Alfred about their days, about what had happened on the previous nights patrol or during training. About Cassandra’s latest literary conquest or Tim’s upcoming test at school.
During those times, Alfred almost wished the chore took longer.
#ficlet#Bat Family#laundry#Alfred Pennyworth#DC#Comics#fanfiction#Bruce Wayne's adopted children#Tim Drake#Tim Wayne#Robin#Red Robin#Cassandra Cain#Batgirl#Black Bat#The Orphan#Dick Grayson#Nightwing#Bruce Wayne#Batman#Justice League#merchandise
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Top Ten Wolf Names
@northstarfan, top ten best Wolf names, but I don’t know if they’ll be very interesting to you.
I actually found this a really hard list to compile, although I do admit I didn’t allocate too much time to it. It’s mostly WARP canon wolves, with the exception of a Wild Hunt character.
One thing that became very, very clear while going through this list was the fact that, like cat and rabbit owners, the Wolfriders prefer the rule of cool when it comes to wolf names. This might also be an element of how, until post KOTBW, the wolves were not mounts or pets, but full fledged members of the community in their own right.
So, one of the things I incorporated into my list was how the name indicated something about the wolf’s elf friend, as well as the wolf itself. I wanted to think about why someone might give a certain name, and what that reflected on the elf.
10. Holtfinder
So, Holtfinder is Moonshade’s new wolf friend, as of “The Quest Begins”. Most people might not know it, but Moonshade’s wolf is one of the two that dies during the desert trek. Obviously, this is a new wolf friend, acquired during the sojourn in the desert.
You might picture Holtfinder as a squirming puppy, the kind that spends their time trying to find a little den to snuggle in, maybe under the blankets with Moonshade, and being named for that reason.
However, Moonshade is noted for being one of the Wolfriders who adjusts the most badly to Sorrow’s End. Even up until Cutter decides to leave, she’s asking if they can come along, back to the forest. Moonshade is often portrayed as happiest in the woods, and in the holt(making her sudden decision to turn into a palace dweller very jarring), and her decision to name her wolf friend after this desire may have symbolized her homesickness and desire to return.
9. Smoketreader
One Eye has always fascinated readers, even me. From his outfit, like Scouter’s, it’s straight out of a book of Fairy Tales, to his missing eye, to his relationship with Clearbrook, we love him, unquestionably, completely dismissing the fact that he is actually incredibly boring. Perhaps the appeal is that his character is nothing more than what we choose to make of it, and that he doesn’t look like our fathers.
Smoketreader would have been higher on this list, except that I have been completely misremembering his name as Stormtreader, so, I had to reconsider it.
Smoketreader is a simple, straightforward name. One Eye’s few characterization points include that he is a simple, straightforward elf. Smoketreader makes sense in that way, if you’re trying to convey that your wolf is as quiet as smoke. Or maybe he named him because he ran out of the smoke during the fire.
This is mostly an excuse to point out that One Eye got a wolf friend during his eye loss. See, while the humans were burning his eye out, he sent to his wolf-friend, who had died months ago. Another wolf answered this sending, and it’s romantic to imagine that Smoketreader’s name came from his arrival. One Eye’s remaining eye sees his rescuer through the smoke of the burning brand descending toward his remaining eye.
Then Wolfrider happened and Wendy forgot what timelines were, so...
8. Bundles
While I stand by my multiple previous statements about Tyleet and her entire childhood being a timesuck of epic proportions, that it adds nothing to the story, and that it takes precious comic book space away that might have been devoted to Venka, she does give her wolves good names. “Bundles” is adorable, exactly the kind of name that a little girl might give to her puppy, based more on, well, how the word sounds than what it might mean.
7. Silvergrace
Amazingly, there aren’t a lot of shots of Silvergrace with Rainsong, her elf friend. There aren’t any body shots of Silvergrace at all, this is a random wolf with puppies that helps call the Wolfriders to help Cutter after Bearclaw dies.
Silvergrace and Newstar are both simple, descriptive names, but what they describe is pure loveliness. It’s as easy to imagine Silvergrace sliding like mercury through the world as it is to imagine Rainsong looking at her newborn daughter and seeing her as a bright burst of hope following a horrific tragedy. Woodlock must have named Wing, because Mender is another descriptive name, full of hope. Rainsong is a mother and a poet.
6. Filcher
Filcher is, basically, one of the bright lights of FQ. He provides some fun and humour in the frankly terrible series that it otherwise lacks.
Cutter likes to give wolves obvious names. “Nightrunner” and “Holdfast” were a little too symbolic, though, whereas one can easily see Cutter giving Filcher his name in a moment of amused frustration. Cutter’s wolf friends are usually dignified or angsty, but Filcher is pure joy, and you get the feeling that Cutter felt the same way.
5. Snapper
Snapper is a pretty indication of how Bearclaw names wolves, with a possible predecessor named Crest. He likes quick names that indicate a physical or personal characteristic of the wolf in question, which goes with his mental tendencies to snap judgements and impulsive behaviour. The wolf snaps? Snapper, forevermore.
4. Blackfell
More an omen of Bearclaw’s descent into violence and hatred than a true wolf friend, Blackfell was always unusual in both his introductions. In Blood Of Ten Chiefs, volume 1, he appears as a stranger wolf who, having lost his cubs, has stolen a human child for his mate to care for. This story shows Bearclaw as a hero, who returns the child and allows Blackfell’s mate to care for Cutter and Amber’s new baby, Nightfall. Yeah, Warp has always been this bad.
In Wolfrider, Blackfell is almost demonic, otherworldly. He reinforces Bearclaw’s violence, and, almost until the end, seems to delight in it, although he does have a genuine affection for Bearclaw. He’s not a member of the pack, but the leader of another pack that neighbours with the Wolfriders.
Both times Blackfell is not named by Bearclaw. He knows Bearclaw’s soulname, and Bearclaw knows Blackfell’s name, as if it appears inside him. And what a name it is, evocative of the black dogs of British legend, the foretellers of death and misfortune. He disappears after Bearclaw’s death like the ghost dogs of legend. It’s tempting to wonder if Timmain and Kimo are truly the only shapechanging elves who took to the form of wolves.
3. Patch
Patch has a sweet backstory. Sort of?
Um...
Patch is actually a gift from Teir during his stalking phase.
But Patch is a good point about how Ember resembles her grandfather. Clearly named named for the smudge of black fur on his nose. Ember went for the obvious here. Patch is loads of fun, and Ember clearly adores him, but she just as clearly made a choice about his name in about three seconds.
2. Warfrost
Most people go for the obvious when looking for images of Warfrost, and I have to admit that he’s pretty cute when he wants Cutter’s attention, but for my mind this image of two damaged souls barely reaching out for each other is the best illustration of Cutter’s tenuous bond with his second wolf.
One of Cutter’s many poetically named wolves, Warfrost is my favourite, so he might not deserve to be on this list, let alone this high on the list.. He had even more personality than Nightrunner, with abuse and imprisonment making him stubborn and independent. He always made it clear that he just happened to be in the same place as Cutter, doing the same thing, and that it didn’t have anything to do with love. “Warfrost” was named for Cutter’s hope for recovery, both for his tribe, himself, and for this strange, fierce wolf.
Warfrost died during Cutter’s long wait. It was another loss for Cutter, one more wound among many, but the old warrior had clearly found his peace, and I’d like to think he’s looking at Cutter and hoping his old friend finds his.
1.Choplicker
It’s one of the great moments in Elfquest.
Back when WARP still pretended that the Wolfriders had ritual and traditions beyond “the (poorly defined) way”, Wolfrider children expecting their first Wolfrider waited outside a wolf den for a pup who emerged, expectant of loving bonds.
Choplicker’s name illustrates Ember’s childhood personality perfectly. Impetuous, happy, not afraid to be a little goofy. Suntop, like Cutter, is a poet, Ember loves to go with whatever comes in her head. “Choplicker” is obviously her first thought on confrontation with puppy kisses. Choplicker himself never outgrew his goofy name, and we were all the happier for it. It’s the perfect name, both for him, and for his rider.
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birb story chapter 1
this is by no means required reading, it has nothing to do with my lore right now. it’s just my nanowrimo story from 2014 and one of the few stories i’ve actually finished writing. people seemed interested last night so i thought i’d post it!
i did all 50k words in 5 days which should account for the uh, issues
disclaimer i know nothing about archaeology i bullshitted 90% of this and the other 10% is badly misremembered facts from when i actually visited this place
~
The thing about bogs was that once you saw one, you’d seen them all. A featureless plain of rippling, purple-tipped deer grass and yellowish sphagnum moss. More often than not, it was soaking wet, and the final day of assisted excavation was no exception.
Wind whipped over the hillside, snatching Nuala’s hood back. For a brief moment she was bare to the rain, her hair soaking through in seconds. With numb fingers she tugged the hood up again, hunching her shoulders against another gust.
Repelled by the terrible weather, the news teams that had promised to be with them for the supposedly “historic” moment had vanished. As the grey sky pummelled the ground with freezing rain, the woman behind the digger controls reached out to wipe condensation from the interior of the vehicle.
“Now, see,” David Kilrush was saying—shouting, really—over the wind. He pointed out a spot on his laminated map, holding it out for Nuala to see. “We’ll be digging in front of the structure, so we don’t damage it - wouldn’t want to be doing that, of course. The probe team has the tomb here, stretching on to the cliff.” He nodded away, to the line of slim white rods sticking out of the bog surface. The simplest tool available for mapping the neolithic structures under the bog, the probes stood up higher where there was something beneath them, elevated by ancient rock walls or buildings.
David’s calm, explanatory tone made Nuala roll her eyes. Of course she knew about excavations. She’d studied every single bog dig site she’d been able to find journals about. She’d been up and down the Cnoc Mór bog more times than David had, anyway. But since he was technically her professor, she couldn’t exactly say so.
With an enormous kwoosh a spout of seawater climbed above the edge of the cliff nearby, splattering the team. Nuala was already soaked, so she barely noticed. Her eyes were fixed on the bare sides of the bog. The digger’s claws had cut through a metre of thick black flesh, but its usefulness was quickly running out. As the hillsite got wetter and wetter, the caterpillar tracks of the vehicle had begun to sink into the surface of the bog. Thick, black water discharged from the open bog hole had already covered the plywood sheets the digger had parked on.
“Now, we’re going all the way down,” David said, checking his map. “Two metres, we’ll say. That’s roughly five thousand years. There haven’t been any major neolithic finds in this area since the Céide fields in the sixties, so we could be looking at something quite significant here.”
Despite David’s continual stating-of-the-obvious, Nuala nodded eagerly. The wind and rain faded into the distance. Her black eyes fixed on the gaping wound the digger had cut into the bog. Suddenly, the north Mayo blanket bogs were actually really exciting.
It was a tomb—it had to be, there was no other explanation. Other structures simply fell apart under the weight of the bog, so the archaeologists in charge of the excavation had reasoned that this one was made of large slabs of rock rather than small stones put together to build a wall. And who would go through the effort of putting together huge slabs of rock if it wasn’t a tomb? The structure, marked out by the probes, was too small to be anything else.
Nuala’s heart skipped a beat as the digger’s claw pulled back more bog. Amidst the black mess of decayed plant-life was a flash of white. Sandstone, then. The acid nature of the bog stripped all colour off the normally brownish rock, leaving it ghostly white.
The woman in the digger’s cabin pulled back on her controls sharply. She shut off the engine, leaving the lights on to illuminated the dim hillside, and climbed out.
“Ah, Jesus,” she said, approaching David, “I didn’t know it was that close. You think I hit it?”
“Should be fine,” he said. “Not to worry, Riona. Take a spade from the back of the van—you too, Nuala.”
Nodding, Riona slogged away through the damp bog, to the van parked a few metres away. She took out a trio of spades and trudged back up to Nuala and David.
“Try to keep yeer distance,” David said firmly. “Uncover the tomb, don’t damage it.”
Nuala took the pitted handle of the spade and got stuck in, before Riona had a chance. Whatever it was that lay in the tomb, Nuala was going to see it first. She’d come all the way across the country for it.
She jumped down into the trench, resting the spade against the walls momentarily while David and another dig-site helper passed down more plywood sheets to stand on. Already, the bog was sucking at her boots, bleeding dark, brackish water out of its cut sides. Once she was standing safely on the plywood, she started digging.
One day, she told herself, she was going to have to recall this moment in detail. For a news interview, maybe, when she was a famous archaeologist. Or in her thesis. Her lip curled as she pulled away the black plant-matter clinging to the front of the buried structure. The other messers in her archaeology course would sorely regret declining David’s invitation to work on the dig-site.
“Maybe we’ll find a body,” Riona said through gritted teeth, cutting a shallow foot-long trench in the earth at the edge of the excavation site. She’d come down with an armful of metal scaffolding poles, and as Nuala uncovered the bleached rocks Riona began reinforcing the walls of the excavation.
“David doesn’t think we will,” Nuala said, “but sure, what else could be in there?”
“He’s leaning towards grain storage, I think,” Riona said. “There haven’t been human remains found here in a long, long time. Not even up at the Céide fields.”
David lowered a ladder into the trench and clipped it to the new scaffolding supports. “My god,” he said, as he climbed down, “this weather is desperate. Ladies, we might stop now for the night, I’m afraid if we carry on there’ll be a bogslide.”
Nuala’s teeth bared in a snarl of protest. They were so close - the front of the tomb was almost clear of debris, the white walls glowing eerily through the driving rain. The very thought of there being neolithic human remains in the tomb was tantalising beyond belief. And, anyway, it rained on the bog every day practically, who was to say that the weather would be any better the next day?
“If we come back tomorrow,” Riona said in a measured tone, “we’ll be coming back to a swimming pool, not an excavation.”
David chewed his lip, rain dripping from the tip of his nose. “That’s true, and it’ll take a good hour’s drive to get to Westport in this weather, to get some tarpaulin…”
“So we’ll keep going?” Nuala said. The rain had made it through her coat and waterproof trousers, somehow, and her entire being was soaked to the skin. Shivers wracked her frame, but given the choice between opening the tomb and going back to a warm, dry hotel room, she’d have chosen the tomb without hesitation. Obviously. What absolute fool would choose a boring uneventful evening over this?
Her hands tightened on the spade, her numb fingers almost as white as the bleached sandstone.
“Tommo!” David shouted, knocking against the ladder. An assistant appeared at the top of the trench, leaning over.
“Yeah?”
“Bring us the crowbar,” David said.
Nuala stood aside as the crowbar descended into the tomb. David wrapped his hands around it and approached the front of the tomb. They’d already probed the area all around, and if other neolithic tombs were anything to go by, this was the front, the entrance. All they had to do was pull back the slab closing it all in. Of course there were dangers, but how else were they to get into the tomb?
Riona grabbed Nuala’s arm and pulled her back, as far away from the entrance as possible. “You don’t want to get caught under that,” she said firmly.
Nuala pulled her arm out of Riona’s grip, eyes fixed on David’s back.
“This is your first excavation, isn’t it?” Riona said, her voice slightly gentler. “You’re very keen.”
Nuala nodded. “Well, I didn’t choose to be an archaeology student for nothing.”
Riona smiled, pushing her dripping hair from her eyes. “You’re a second year, right? Why’d you go all the way to Dublin to go to college?”
Nuala had never mentioned that she’d moved to Dublin to go to college, but she guessed it was fairly obvious. David was the professor of her course, and he was from Dublin, but Nuala’s accent was pure Galway. And there were definitely archaeology courses available in Galway.
“I just wanted to get away,” Nuala said, which wasn’t strictly false.
“I’ve been excavating up in Céide for years,” Riona said. “Is that what you want to work at? Or are you planning on going abroad?”
David slotted the hooked tip of the crowbar into the crack between the door slab and the rest of the tomb. He started carefully pulling back, his grip firm despite the rain.
“I don’t know,” Nuala said.
Riona smiled, her weathered cheeks dripping. “If you ever have to do work experience, sure you can come up to the Céide visitor centre and apply there. We’d be happy to have you.”
“Riona, over here,” David said loudly, over the battering wind. It was really getting bad, the sky fading from wool-grey to inky black. Riona took the crowbar, holding it in place while David started slinging thick nylon straps around the rock. He threw the ends up out of the trench, for the assistants to attach to the front of the van. Once he was satisfied that the rock was secure, he gripped the crowbar beside Riona.
Together, they wrenched the door off the tomb. The straps snapped tight, keeping the rock from slamming into the two fragile humans. David held it by one side and shouted something that the wind swallowed, but the assistants apparently heard. The van engine roared into life.
Slowly, inch by inch, the rock slab rose into the air and out of the trench. Nuala leant to the side, impatiently trying to catch a glimpse of the interior of the tomb. It was too dark, though, and she couldn’t see a thing. A handful of dry leaves were swept into the air, tugged from the interior of the tomb by the grasping wind. More than a few hit Nuala in the face.
What kind of neolithic tomb contained dry leaves? She snatched at one and held it out, squinting. It was long, as long as her thumb, black and oddly fluffy. She stared, uncomprehending, for several moments before finally realising what it was that she held. It was a feather.
Instantly, her heart sank. There wouldn’t be any non-decomposed feathers in a tomb that wasn’t open to the air somewhere. And if the tomb was open to air, that meant the bog hadn’t been able to fill it, to work its natural preservation on the interior. They wouldn’t be finding any bog bodies in there. A human skeleton, maybe, if they were lucky.
A few more downy feathers drifted from the tomb. The slab was out of the trench now, being pulled away by the van. David and Riona stood in front of the entrance, blocking it. Nuala strode forwards, feather in hand.
“Look,” she said, “this came out.”
She held up the feather.
Both David and Riona understood the implications instantly. David’s smile fell slightly, but reappeared almost a second later.
“Maybe there’s another entrance,” he said. “The only place we didn’t look was the cliffside itself, maybe there’s a tunnel…” He paused, thoughtful, and faced the interior of the tomb. He pulled a torch from his belt and held it up.
The beam of torchlight cut through the shadows in the tomb, followed by the flashes of Riona’s waterproof camera. Nuala stood on the tips of her toes, struggling to see over David’s shoulder. Bird contamination or not, she was determined to memorise every last detail, just in case she needed to repeat it all to a fawning news reporter later.
She saw the steps leading down into a dim cavern, rock slabs boxing in the floor, walls, and ceiling. She saw the vases and pottery cups lining the walls, half-eroded from the constant drip of acidic water from the roof. She saw dark lines on the walls and floor, painted onto the rock but somehow untouched by the bog’s acidity. The lines were too straight to have been put there by accident, running diagonally across several flagstones. They came together in the very centre of the tomb, linking like the centre of a many-pointed star. Around the nexus of lines was a careful, hand-painted circle.
Nuala mentally thumbed through her textbooks, the reference material she’d brought with her to Mayo. She pictured the photographs of different excavations, the tombs from all around the country from roughly the same time period. And although the general structure of this tomb was identical to several others she’d studied, everything else about it was completely alien. More feathers lay around, all dusty black, but there was nothing to indicate where they’d come from.
Unthinking, she followed the lines down to their convergence point again. She couldn’t look away, her heart pounding in her throat.
Riona took another photo. Behind them, assistants were climbing into the trench for a look into the tomb, exclaiming amongst themselves.
“I’ve never seen that,” Riona said slowly. “The lines - it looks like ochre, maybe, but where around here would you get ochre…”
Nuala glanced up at David, waiting for an explanation. But he looked just as lost as Riona, his bushy silver eyebrows raised as he moved the torch-beam around the tomb. “I think,” he said slowly, eyeing the circle on the tomb floor, “that might be the capstone.”
“Can I…?” Nuala indicated the interior hopefully, her heart pounding. David shook his head and she almost scowled at him. Riona entered the tomb first, descending the steps with a careful stillness. She stepped over one of the lines, bending over to take a look at a pile of eroded pottery.
“I’ve never seen this design before!” she called. “It’s not geometric, it’s actually illustrated with figures…” Her camera flashed as she took a picture.
Feathers drifted over the floor, gathering around Riona’s feet. She turned, snapping pictures of the lines tracking down the walls, and finally faced the capstone. David was right - it was slightly elevated above the rest of the floor, a long, rectangular stone that someone had cut very carefully to fit the surrounding flagstones. The circle was painted on the centre.
“Could fit two bodies,” Riona said, taking a picture. “I’d say it’s nine feet long. Too big for just one person - unless they were buried with someone else, or some kind of treasure or religious artifact…”
David took up the crowbar again and stepped into the tomb, this time beckoning with a tilt of the head for Nuala to follow him. She descended the slick steps, arms out for balance. David avoided stepping on the lines, as did she. That was important.
But David set the crowbar down and removed a sample bag from his coat pocket. He pulled out a knife.
“What are you doing?” Nuala said warily as he approached one of the walls.
“We’ll need to send this in for dating,” David said. “Just to make sure it’s as old as we think.”
He set his knife to one of the lines. Nuala’s eyes widened, and she almost shouted at him to stop. She clamped her mouth shut, her cheeks burning with a faint embarrassment. Acting like a superstitious fool about a bunch of lines was something she expected from other people.
Carefully, David scratched the maroon paint off the rock and into the bag. He sealed the bag and left it on the floor, by the entrance.
“Now. Let’s open this up.” He grabbed the crowbar and approached the capstone.
Disturbing one line was bad enough, but opening the tomb would disconnect all of them. Nuala forced down her instinctual fear, disgusted at herself. Opening the tomb was more important than anything, if it meant a successful first excavation.
Together, Riona and David prised up the capstone. The sheet of rock was nine feet long but only about three across, and it was thin enough for both of them to lift. They levered it up and to the side in one practised movement, uncovering the grave cut into the floor and breaking the continuity of the lines.
David’s torch beamed into the dark, rectangular hole. His shoulders sagged. “It’s a hoax,” he said quietly. “We’ve been had.”
Feathers drifted into the air.
Nuala approached the grave, stepping over the lines, and peered down into it.
The creature lying dead in the grave would have satisfied a cryptozoologist’s wildest dreams. Slightly over seven feet tall, it was roughly humanoid, clad all over in dusty black feathers. Its face was bare of feathers, the speckled skin blue-grey, the expression peaceful and still. Two pale horns rose an extra foot into the air above its head, cracked and splintered at the tips. Its ears were greyish and sheeplike, poking from the downy feathers around its head. Its body was vaguely humanoid, though the chest was keeled in the centre, and the hands were long and clawed. Its legs were thin and birdlike, bare of feathers below the ankle. Dusty black scales covered its digitigrade feet. Its talons just about touched the lower edges of the grave, gleaming dimly in the torchlight. Above the creature’s head, in the foot of space remaining, a wreath of dried flowers sat like a halo.
“Oh well,” Riona said. “You have to give them credit, that thing looks real.”
If the creature was a model, then how old was it? How long ago had it been planted in the tomb? And who in their right mind would spend money on the creation of such a lifelike monster only to abandon it in a bog that hadn’t even been probed until a month ago?
Riona took a picture, sighing faintly.
Nuala reached into her pocket, unable to take her eyes off the creature. Without really knowing why, she’d pocketed the feather from earlier. Now, she pulled it out and held it up. It was definitely a real feather, the shaft cracked and dusty. But it wasn’t a flight feather but a down feather, and as far as she was aware those were generally not larger than a couple of centimetres. Maybe it was from an ostrich.
A faint sigh echoed around the tomb. She lowered the feather, forgetting it instantly. Riona was texting, David was examining one of the vases. Neither of them had heard it. Nuala stared down, into the grave, just in time to see the creature’s chest move.
She hardly dared to move. Slowly, the creature breathed again, as gently and gradually as if it was asleep. Her hand moved forwards of its own accord and found the creature’s wrist. She felt the steady pulse of blood under the soft feathers and sinewy flesh.
“David,” Nuala said faintly, “it’s breathing.”
That drew the two adult archaeologists over. David crouched by the tomb, watching as the sleeping creature took another steady breath. Riona shoved her phone into her pocket.
Then, with a scowl, David reached into the tomb. He touched the creature’s shoulder, hesitantly at first. When it didn’t react, he grew bolder and actually dared to shake the creature, trying to get it to wake.
“Here, now,” David said sharply, “this has gone on long enough. You’ve had your fun.”
So he thought it was a person in costume. But Nuala knew what she could feel, and the feathers were firmly rooted in the skin. A faint shred of protectiveness stole over her, and she almost shoved David away.
“Call the gardaí,” David said, glancing back at Riona. “That’ll wake this fella up.”
Riona pulled out her phone.
“Phone back to base, Nuala,” David said. “Tell them what happened. We’ll be coming back to Cnoc Mór for the night.”
Nuala didn’t dream of taking her hand off the creature’s wrist. She reached into her pocket with her free hand and pulled out her phone. With numb, clumsy fingers she navigated to her contact list.
A clatter to the right caught her attention, and she quickly turned. Riona’s mobile phone lay on the ground, the screen cracked. Riona herself stood nearby, breathing hard, leaning against the wall.
“Riona?” Nuala said.
On her other side, David braced a hand on the tomb floor, as if to keep himself upright. Something dark was dripping from his nose.
Riona started to cough violently, doubled over with only her trembling hand on the wall keeping her upright.
Nuala sprang to her feet, breathing hard. If the creature was real - and she had no doubt that it was - why had it been buried? What if it carried some ancient, infectious disease? She ran to the mouth of the tomb. The assistants were still there, but some of them had started to cough.
“Call an ambulance!” Nuala shouted at them.
Back inside the tomb, David appeared to have passed out, his glasses broken on the ground beside him. Riona was just about upright, her head hanging.
Nuala waited for the weakness to come, the shortness of breath or the sudden urge to cough. She reached up and checked her nose, but it was clear of blood. Her heart pounding, she fell to her knees and grabbed at the creature’s hand again, trying to shake it awake, in the feeble hope that it would be able to speak and offer some explanation or warning.
Suddenly, the tomb filled with light. Nuala couldn’t see, it was too bright, and her eyes were searing. She fell back, hands over her face, but that didn’t block out the light. In fact, she couldn’t see her hands at all. She couldn’t close her eyes, or look down. She could only stare straight ahead.
The tomb was bright and airy, the pottery whole and unbroken. An individual in a muddy grey outfit crouched in front of the grave, carefully painting lines onto the rock. Slowly, the person turned, and covering their face was a pointed animal’s skull, like the skull of a dog or wolf. Eyes glittered from beyond the empty sockets. Three muddy wolf tails hung from their belt. Slowly, they dipped an oversized paintbrush into a pot of dark red sludge and started painting their skull mask with it. The red stuff, which was probably blood, dripped from the wolf teeth, spattering the ground.
Nuala woke up with a gasp, her back arching in shock. Her eyes flew open. All she saw was a blurry room, hidden behind a canopy of translucent plastic. To the side, she saw another bed, another plastic canopy.
She sat bolt upright, panting. Hadn’t she been in the tomb? She must have fallen sick, and now she was in hospital, in quarantine. That was what all the plastic meant, no doubt. But the room beyond the canopy didn’t look like a hospital, in fact it looked a lot like the Cnoc Mór community centre. Their dig team headquarters.
A person approached the canopy. They wore a big yellow suit, like a biohazard suit. With heavily gloved hands they unzipped the canopy just enough to step through.
“Nuala Riagán?” a muffled voice said in a northern accent.
“Yeah,” Nuala said shakily.
“It’s okay,” the doctor said. “You’re in quarantine, but we think you’re not infected. You’re the only one who’s not, so you’ll have to stay here in case you’re a carrier.”
“What?” Nuala said faintly. “What about - what about David, and Riona-”
“David Kilrush and Riona Finch-Sinnott?” the doctor said. “They are extremely sick. I need to talk to you, Nuala - I need to ask you some questions, and take your blood. Is that okay?”
“Okay,” Nuala said.
The doctor started putting together a blood collection kit. Pushing up Nuala’s sleeve, they wrapped a tourniquet around her upper arm. “There were fourteen people there at the dig-site,” the doctor said, preparing a rack of tiny, brightly coloured collection bottles. “Six of them are seriously ill. Seven are already dead. One is completely unaffected. That’s you. Can you tell us exactly what happened? You’re the only one who can still talk.”
Nuala nodded, a dull ache gathered under her skin below the tourniquet. “Yeah, um. We opened the tomb, and the grave, and uh�� the monster…”
“The feathered creature,” the doctor said. “It was awake?”
“No,” Nuala said, “no, it was asleep. But no one got sick until the grave opened up. Actually… no one got sick until David touched it. Wh-what did you do with it?”
“Don’t worry,” the doctor said, “we have it under quarantine, too. It’s still asleep. Are you sure it was when David touched it that he got sick?”
“No,” Nuala said, “I think, uh, Riona got sick first. Yeah.” She glanced around, struggling to make out the person lying in the next bed along. She saw a neon blue rain coat and a pair of large brown boots. David. As she watched, he twitched and tried to turn over, but seemed too weak to be able to do it.
“Did Riona touch the creature?” the doctor said.
“No,” Nuala said. “Only David and I did?”
“You did? Look away, sweetheart,” the doctor said, pushing the needle of a catheter into the aching skin of her elbow. Nuala didn’t look away. She wasn’t scared of needles.
“Yes, I was the first to touch it.”
“Where did you touch it?”
“It’s left wrist. David touched its shoulder.”
The doctor nodded, carefully filling the colourful tubes with Nuala’s blood. Nuala watched carefully, her eyes narrowed.
“All right. Thank you, that’s useful information.”
“And,” Nuala said, “what about me? Do I have to stay?”
“Yes,” the doctor said firmly. “We’re operating under the assumption that the tomb and the creature are infectious. The town of Cnoc Mór has been evacuated, we’re the only ones here.”
“Oh,” Nuala said. “But I have lectures next Monday, in Dublin.”
“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, “but you have to stay. There’s no telling what you’re carrying right now, and we can’t allow the illness to spread to somewhere like Dublin. We could be looking at an epidemic here.” They pulled the tube from the end of the catheter, but left the catheter itself in Nuala’s skin. Wrapping a bandage around it, they straightened up and turned to go.
“I’m Emily O’Rourke,” the doctor said, just before unzipping the plastic canopy. “They called me in from Belfast, I’m an expert on this sort of thing. Please call using the button if you need any help, or if you think you’re starting to fall ill. Someone’ll be round later with your dinner.”
Nuala sat back, scowling, as the doctor left her behind. Would it have killed Emily O’Rourke to give a little more information about Nuala’s situation? As long as there were still people getting sick, Nuala would have to stay here, trapped, under observation. And her lack of attendance at next Tuesday’s practical class would damage her overall grade. If she didn’t get back to college soon, the extra credits she’d earnt for agreeing to go on the trip to Mayo would be worthless.
So she had to lie there, in the bed, for a further three hours. All she could do was think; everything had been taken from her pockets, including her mobile phone and wallet. She considered her situation, trying to find a silver lining.
There had been fourteen people at the digsite, and all but her had fallen sick. Many were dead. But the doctor hadn’t made any mention of other victims. So what if it wasn’t contagious between humans, but only between humans and the creature? If that was the case, then Nuala could potentially be free to go soon enough.
Feeling slightly better, she settled back and closed her eyes.
#birb story 2017#that's the tag i'm sticking to it#wow i can't believe this is almost 3 years old now yikes#not fr
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