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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 3 years

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Exit Strategy (S2, E10)

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:40 - Oh it’s Capshaw’s dream. Well. That’s upsetting.

1:10 - .....she was performing surgery on herself?!!? WTF?

1:37 - The fact that Jessica broke into her adult child’s home to steal Martin memorabilia is hilarious to me. Also deeply upsetting. Because - dysfunctional.

1:40 - “In my loft? Where I live?” hahahahahahaha sassy!Malcolm for the win! Also - there is something so so cute about the way Tom delivers this line. <3 It’s precious.

1:46 - “I don’t always wake up screaming.” ....so historically we know this is true. Malcolm didn’t wake up screaming at the beginning of 1x15 when Eve was in his loft....but still... Malcolm’s mental health has been in tatters. I find it highly unlikely that he wouldn’t be waking up screaming. Especially since he was hallucinating last episode!!!!

1:55 - The Never. Ever. Room?!?!?! I’m shook. I’m amused. I’m horrified. I can’t believe that Jessica would let Malcolm keep that stuff in his loft. Why isn’t it locked up in a storage container or something? Jessica let Malcolm - the boy that Martin traumatized - sleep in the same building as all of Martin’s belongings?!?! Nah. Jessica is so overbearing .... I just don’t buy it.

2:21 - “I am ignoring the Surgeon altogether.” Awww look at how proud Malcolm is to tell Jessica about his serial killer cleanse. He’s like, “I finally have news that will make Mom happy!!” <3 <3 Precious.

2:36 - “He’s been calling. Non-stop.” annnnnnnd there’s are sad profiler. He’s putting on a good act for Jessica but he’s still clearly in a lot of emotional pain.

3:15 - Really? The writers have Jessica riding the Brightwell train now? For real? I’m here for it but it feels kind of fast? Forced? Out of left field? I mean Jessica’s totally the type of mom who meddles in her kid’s love life (remember Eve?) but in the middle of the whole Ainsley-Endicott fiasco? Jessica should be more concerned about Malcolm’s mental state and less concerned with his relationship status.

3:17 - Did Malcolm really just admit (sort of abstractly, but still) that he’s interested in Dani romantically? Doesn’t he realize that Jessica will try to interfere?!? He’s basically given her his blessing!!!

3:25 - awwwww....the pic of baby!Malcolm and baby!Ainsley is so cute. <3

3:40 - UGH. I want to know more about that key and what it unlocks so badly!!!

3:46 - “Oh great. Detective Mom.” <3 I love it when he calls Jessica “Mom” instead of “Mother”. <3

4:36 - ......Mr.David and Martin have such an interesting dynamic. Martin listens to Mr. David without showing any signs of anger, resentment, or his usual psychopathic manipulation. Mr. David controls Martin much the way a parent controls their well-behaved child. I just find it so fascinating that Martin treats Mr. David with respect. That’s not Martin’s usual reaction when things don’t go his way.

5:00 - I’m so happy we keep getting more screen time with Hector. <3 This dude’s great.

6:05 - soooo the fact that Jessica stabbed Daryl in the neck is probably going to inhibit Daryl’s ability to speak right? Making Daryl a useless source of information regarding the breakout?

6:24 - I love everything about this scene with Gil’s new car. I love that Malcolm’s “wow, the Coronet’s looking good.” is said with this little smile. As though Malcolm doesn’t really care about the car, but he knows mentioning it will make Gil happy. I love Gil’s rant about “No more Whitly’s around my car.” and Gil’s glare when JT asks about Tarmel’s around the car. I love Dani’s “boys and toys” line. UGh. It was just the little dose of found family that I craved. <3 BUT I do have one small complaint/concern. Gil. He said, “No more Whitly’s around my car.” Whitly’s. Why did he refer to Malcolm as a Whitly?

6:54 - “Some major Japan-y vibes.”.....I’m sorry the word you’re looking for is “Japanese”?!?! Anyone else get super distracted by this line?!?

7:56 - “Old people” HA. OMG. I love this so much. <3 <3

9:11 - As someone with severe social and general anxiety that has at times bordered on a form agoraphobia - Dani’s dismissive tone when she says “he’s afraid to leave the house.” hurts. Especially since it feels really out of character for Dani. She doesn’t usually dismiss people so quickly. Maybe there’s a story there? She had an agoraphobic family member?

10:14 - “NYPD. Adjacent.” Why isn’t Malcolm a member of the NYPD yet? He trained with the FBI. He’s clearly capable of being employed as a detective for the NYPD. Is it because he doesn’t want to carry a gun? Is it because Gil doesn’t want Malcolm to carry a gun? Is it bureaucracy (probably)?

10:44 - Malcolm explaining why the antique pistol won’t fire is adorable.

10:57 - This dude hasn’t left the house since March of 1997. Martin was arrested in 1998. Is this supposed to have some sort of double meaning? Like maybe Malcolm discovered that Martin was killing people in 1997 but the chloroform confused him for a while and he didn’t call the cops until 98′? Is this supposed to be a metaphor for the fact that Malcolm hasn’t been truly alive since 1997? He’s just been in survival mode - he hasn’t been living.

11:22 - “I’m not too good around people.” This dude is Malcolm. Malcolm lives in a state of constant fear and anxiety. Malcolm isn’t so good with relationships or casual human interactions.

11:30 - It makes perfect sense to me that Dani is the detective that Malcolm brings in to talk to Gerald. Forget the Brightwell agenda. Gerald is a scared old man. JT and Gil are authoritative men (they’re teddy bears but they can also be scary). Dani is a woman. Women are typically seen as less of a threat. Though Dani could totally kick just about anyone’s ass. But it makes sense to me that a scared witness would feel more comfortable around the smaller female detective than the large male ones.

12:03 - Ugh. I feel so bad for Gerald. The dude is clearly experiencing some sensory overload on top of his anxiety. :(

12:15 - hahahaha the absolute best part of this little Brightwell moment is Gerald’s reaction. This old man just connected the dots and you can see it ALL over his face. ....but also, it’s a really cute moment. <3

12:38 - “Too late if you ask me.” Is it just me or does Gerald seem protective of Rosalie here? Almost paternal?

13:03 - “You still think like a grand master” Is this supposed to be an illusion to the way that Malcolm thinks about cases? He thinks like the killer in order to solve the case?

13:13 - WHY DOES MALCOLM KNOW SO MUCH ABOUT A CHESS LEGEND FROM THE 70s and 80s?!? Did baby!Malcolm have a chess phase? I want details.

13:22 - I love Gerald. He’s such a cute little old man. He’s scared but you can tell that he has a good heart and that he’s extremely smart. Look at how impressed he is with Malcolm. <3 He’s a lot like Malcolm.

13:27 -”Memory was always my gift.” Memory is Gerald’s gift but it’s been Malcolm’s curse.

15:04 - Malcolm is so close to snapping. Look at this poor boy. He’s at the end of his rope. :(

15:14 - “Looks like you got some sleep.” Awwww proud!Gil <3

15:40 - “Agoraphobia often comes from trauma.” Yep. Malcolm identifies with Gerald. I wonder if Malcolm ever went through a period of agoraphobia? Maybe as a teen?

15:48 - .....is this foreshadowing? When the truth about Endicott comes out is Malcolm going to be deemed an ‘unreliable witness’? Or maybe that’s how Ainsley is going to try and pin the murder on Malcolm?

15:58 - annnnnd we finally got a good shot of concerned!Gil. There’s no way that Gil isn’t reading between the lines here. He knows Malcolm identifies with Gerald and he knows Malcolm is having issues with his mental health, identity, and self-worth. SOMEONE CONFRONT HIM. WHERE IS THE MALCOLM INTERVENTION?!!?

16:20 - “Are you alright? Don’t answer that.”.....because Martin doesn’t actually care about Malcolm’s mental or physical health. Martin is a narcissist who has a story to tell.

16:27 - “No. Me first.” I’m. So. Proud. Of. Malcolm. <3 <3

16:56 - “That felt good.” :) Awwww... <3 I’m proud of Malcolm for this but Martin is totally going to hold it against him in later episodes. It’s going to fuel some sort of anger. Just wait for it.

17:05 - Again. Mr. David acts like Martin’s dad. If Martin were 8 years old.

17:40 - Chrisitan Brole is a treasure. His acting is incredible. Friar Pete is creepy, likeable, funny, and terrifying. Honestly. Give him an Emmy.

20:00 - “*sigh* kid.” This breaks my heart. You can see Gil’s doubt and concern all over his face. He’s doubting Malcolm’s ability to make an accurate profile of Gerald because he knows how much Malcolm identifies and sympathizes with Gerald. He’s concerned about Malcolm because....I mean have you seen him lately? The boy is spiralling and it hurts to watch. But Gil is scared for Malcolm right now. Gil is now worried that the cases aren’t enough to distract Malcolm. That Malcolm can’t work on cases anymore. That Malcolm’s mental health has compromised his ability to work effectively.

20:50 - “We’re friends. Partners” Listen to the longing in Malcolm’s voice when he says “partners”. He wants to be romantic partners with Dani - not just work partners. It’s obvious. This boy is an open book when it comes to how he feels about Dani.

21:08 - “And she never will.” there is something about the way Tom delivers this line. How he sort of trips over the words. I can’t tell if it’s intentional or not but it works. It somehow makes it more raw and emotional. Malcolm wants so so badly to tell Dani how he feels but he’s convinced that he’s a monster. That she deserves someone more stable than him. Someone with less trauma. Malcolm is convinced that he’s not safe for anyone to love. Malcolm is convinced he’s going to snap and become Martin.

21:17 - “Sounds lonely.” I love the way Malcolm immediately dismisses this as ‘tactical empathy’. Malcolm has accepted that he will be alone forever. He’s convinced himself he deserves it. I’m willing to bet that Malcolm rarely (if ever) actually feels lonely. Between coping mechanisms, hallucinations, and trauma - I doubt his mind is ever quiet enough for him to notice loneliness.

21:27 - “You’ve spent your life mastering a game. I’ve spent mine mastering how people think.” .....ok but chess is basically about predicting your opponents moves and then Gerald graduated to people watching soooooo they’re really not that different.

22:06 - I love this. I love how Malcolm turns on Gerald only for Gerald to emphatically explain how he lives through that window. Because - isn’t Malcolm the same? How many people have accused Malcolm of being a murderer when really he’s just a man who only feels alive when he’s solving murders and putting away killers?

22:50 - Rosalie helped Gerald much like Dani helps Malcolm. But Gerald couldn’t help Rosalie because he was trapped in his trauma. .....sooooo what’s going to happen to Dani? Or is this just supposed to be a reference to the fact that Dani can’t trust Malcolm because he’s keeping Endicott a secret and she knows something is up?

22:51 - ummmmm 60bpm??!?!? That’s a borderline athletic resting heart rate for a man in his 50s. There’s no way Martin’s in that great of shape. He’s trapped in his cell most of the day.

24:28 - oooookkkkkayyyy so maybe Capshaw isn’t as smart as I thought she was. Martin is playing her like a fiddle. Although that dream sequence from the intro did make it seem like she was only interested in Martin because she craved medical power and respect.

25:22 - Martin didn’t call Jessica his wife to screw with Capshaw. He genuinely still thinks of Jessica as his wife.....this is not good for the future. This tracks with the dreams Martin’s had throughout this season of going back home to his family.

25:44 - Oh yeah. Jessica knows that woman is into Martin.

26:41 - “Isn’t it obvious? It’s the key to my heart.” LMAO holy shit.

26:56 - “I can tell when you’re lying.” “Not historically.”......Martin has a point.

28:27 - This counts as my “someone confronts Malcolm about his mental health” bingo square for the episode right?

28:35 - Look at Gil. He knows Malcolm is lying through his teeth and he’s so so tired of it. He looks so sad and annoyed. Gil loves Malcolm so much and he’s clearly concerned about Malcolm but I honestly think Gil just feels helpless right now. Malcolm is spiralling and Gil can’t help because Malcolm won’t open up.

29:15 - “When she didn’t give up Clayton he killed her. Brave girl.”.....does this mean there’s going to be an attempt on someone’s life this season? Maybe Martin tries to kill Ainsley because she’s going to pin Endicott’s murder on Malcolm? Or Malcolm tries to kill Ainsley because she doesn’t give up Martin’s location? Or Ainsley/Martin try to kill Malcolm because he tries to come clean about everything?

29:26 - “If anyone can get through to this guy it’s you.” THANK YOU. Malcolm really needed that assurance. This dude is so full of negative emotions, self doubt, and pain. Every moment he feels supported, believed in, or loved is immensely treasured.

30:26 - Oh Capshaw. You dumb dumb dumb woman. Look at Martin’s face. Capshaw has freed a monster. That’s Martin’s “I’m a raging serial killer” expression.

30:29 - Holy shit. Look at how quickly Martin put the “I’m a harmless doctor” mask. In the span of about 1 second he went from killer to angel. Michael Sheen is incredible.

31:04 - “You don’t have to be trapped in here.” It breaks my heart to hear Malcolm encourage Gerald to break free from his trauma when Malcolm is still a prisoner to his own.

31:10 - “This is your next move” “No. It’s not”. THIS. This sums up anxiety disorders. Everyone tells you to ‘move on’ or ‘take a deep breath’. They all tell you that ‘everything will be fine’. They ask you ‘what’s the worst thing that could happen.” The problem: most people with anxiety disorders know the majority of their fears (or at least the severity of them) is irrational. Most people with anxiety disorders have tried therapy, drugs, coping mechanisms, breathing techniques, ect. Anxiety doesn’t go away because you want it to. Telling someone to move on - just makes it worse. Especially someone who has lived with severe anxiety so long that it feels like a crucial part of their personality. I’ve had a severe anxiety disorder for as long as I can remember - I don’t want to heal. I don’t know who I’d be without severe anxiety. I’m scared to find out.

32:10 - “Family comes first”........soooo is Martin escaping to groom Ainsley for the family business (murder)? For Malcolm (to save him from Ainsley)? To protect Malcolm from a new Surgeon related skeleton (akin to Endicott)? WHY?

32:33 - ahhhh Papa!Gil. I’ve missed you.

33:25 - I have this headcannon that baby!Malcolm had pet rats at some point (he’d had snakes so I feel like rats would be in his wheelhouse). One day while Malcolm was at school the rats escaped from their cage and scared the crap out of Jessica. Jessica demands that the rats be removed from the home. That’s it. That’s the scene that plays in my head.

33:39 -.....Jessica is wearing a ring on her left ring finger. Why?

34:03 - “Jess it’s good to hear from you but -” They’re dating again now. Right? <3

34:06 - “What?!” Fear and confusion. That’s the look on Gil’s face. We love to see it.

34:25 - “Martin is escaping.” Look at Gil’s face. He’s terrified. He’s staying calm and acting like he’s in control but this dude is terrified that the people he loves most in the world (Jessica and Malcolm) are in serious and immediate danger.

34:50 - .....last I checked Malcolm was claustrophobic with specific closet-related trauma......

35:40 - “There’s only one play for a pawn.”.....does this mean Malcolm considers himself a pawn in Martin’s game? Disposable. Limited options. Replaceable. Of little worth? :(

35:57 - “What would you know about it Judas.” Huh. Pete is pissed at Martin. Is it because Pete views Martin’s nasty relationship with Capshaw as a betrayal akin to Judas’ betrayal of Jesus?

36:36 - Jessica using her heels as a weapon is honestly such a mood. hahaha

36:54 - Poor Jessica. The moment she realizes that she’s trapped with a killer who not only hates Martin but also has an hallucinatory friend is haunting. This woman goes from terrified to petrified. But look at her poker face. She’s brave. She tries to talk her way out of it. She tries to think her way out of it. She’s like Malcolm.

37:42 - Jessica firmly telling Daryl not to take another step right before she stabs him in the neck with a high heel is everything. Listen to her terrified screaming. She can’t believe she just stabbed the man (even if it was self-defence). This woman did the impossible while scared to death. She is a badass. She’s my hero. I love her.

38:12 - “All she had to do was tell me where my brother was. Except they were in love”.....does this mean Ainsley or Martin is going to try and kill Dani?

39:32 - “Don’t you think that’s what Rosalie would’ve wanted for you? This time make the right choice.” Wow. Malcolm is really metaphorically berating himself. What I heard was “Don’t you think Dani would want you to live without fear and guilt? This time - tell her your secret. Come clean. You’ll feel better.”

40:12 - ....so did Dani steal Gil’s keys or did he give them to her? Can we see how mad Gil is about this? Please? .....also the not-so-subtle “Dani is going to be a part of the Whitly family because she hurt Gil’s car” is not lost on me. I’m just more interested in Gil’s reaction to Dani hurting his baby.

40:21 - “I see why you like her.” hahaha Gerald is all of us. Whether or not you ship Brightwell, you can’t deny that Dani is a badass and a good friend to Malcolm. That’s reason enough for Malcolm to like her - not necessarily in a romantic way.

40:30 - Where the hell did Daryl go? If Jessica was trapped where did the man with a high heel in his neck go?!!?!

40:33 - “It’s okay. It’s okay. You’re okay.” <3 <3 The whump whore in me is in love. Forget Gillica. I’ll listen to Gil comforting a traumatized member of the team or Jessica any time, any day. <3

40:50 - I have so many questions about this escape. Are the guys sticking together? If not - do they know where the other guys plan to go/do? Where will they be getting the post-escape change of clothes (you know the ones that aren’t property of Claremont)?

40:55 - I’ll be honest, I’m shocked. They’ve been teasing Martin’s escape all season but I really thought he wasn’t going to escape until the finale. Now I’m so excited for the finale. If it’s not a Martin-Ainsley-Malcolm showdown or a Gil-Martin showdown I’m going to be sad.

41:13. - Martin and Gerald both just took their first breath of fresh air as ‘free’ men after 23-24 years. The symmetry of this episode’s two main plot lines is more obvious than usual.

41:44 - Look at Gerald being Malcolm’s wingman. hahaha it’s so cute. He’s self-appointed himself as Malcolm’s grandpa and I’m here for it.

41:51 - REALLY MALCOLM?!!? YOU CHOOSE TO LISTEN TO A VOICEMAIL FROM THE SURGEON NOW?!?! #MORON

42:29 - Martin’s entire message for Malcolm is haunting. Even now, he’s trying to manipulate Malcolm. “I’m not the man I used to be”. I’ll promise you right now - Martin will be killing at least one person in the next 3 episodes. He’s addicted to killing. End of story.

“I’m doing this for you” ....Is Martin going after Ainsley? I’m genuinely concerned that Martin thinks Ainsley is going to try and kill Malcolm or pin the Endicott murder on Malcolm. I think Martin caught wind of it and is planning on ‘taking care of the problem’ (Ainsley).

42:35 - Look at Dani. She’s terrified. For Malcolm. For Gil. For New York. For herself. She knows how bad this is and she’s scared.

42:44 - “You fath-. The Surgeon.” THIS. Dani realized that Malcolm doesn’t need to be reminded that his father is a serial killer. Dani realized that family is more than blood. The Surgeon escaped. Malcolm is in danger. But Malcolm’s father didn’t escape. Malcolm’s father has been dead since 1997/1998 when Malcolm found out he was a serial killer.

42:55 - Malcolm. :( Look at our baby. :( He’s done. Absolute horror and terror. He looks like he’s going into shock. I honestly thought (*cough* hoped *cough*) he was going to pass out. THIS is what’s going to remove Malcolm as a suspect for ‘aiding/knowing that Martin was planning on escaping’. Same with Jessica. Ainsley doesn’t have a terror driven alibi though. At least - not that we’ve seen.

AHHHHHHHH this was such an intense episode. I can’t wait for Tuesday. <3

If Malcolm doesn’t have a full on mental breakdown soon I’m going to have a stress-induced breakdown for him. Seriously.

Thanks for hanging out.

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taiblogcomics · 3 years

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All Out of Outlaws

Hey there, that live service you paid for but only used once. I hope you liked last week's anniversary review as much as I liked writing it. Now we're back to the usual stack. We're on a streak with Red Hood junk, so let's get back into it~

Here's the cover:

Since it's an anniversary issue of its own, the cover is way glossier and higher quality than usual. I don't object to homaging most of Jason's old teammates in the sky, but why the fuck is Crux there? Like, why would you remind us of Crux? Nobody liked Crux, nobody even remembers Crux. At least he's partially covered by the logo, but not nearly enough. Like, Isabel's worth way more of a cover appearance than Crux. Anyway, other than Crux, this cover's pretty good. Very movie poster-esque.

So this book takes place "one month ago". That somehow means it takes place after issue 48, AKA the unnecessary tie-in issue, and that other story arc that ended last issue. You got that? One month ago is after the tie-in story, but before the story that just ended. You can tell all this because Bizarro is still here instead of trapped in hell, and Jason Todd's narrating to himself about how Punchline tricked him regarding Duela Dent. Yeah, there's no moment showing how he realised this, even though that'd make good story in itself. No, he's just here because he's already pissed at the Duela deception.

After the flashback, we return to the present. This is after issue 49, just so you know where we stand. It's pretty clear Artemis and Jason have just slept together. That... seems odd to me. It's odd to them as well, so that's forgivable. Jason acknowledges that really he just needed some human contact. Because, like, Roy is dead, Bizarro is in hell, and Starfire is in space. Thankfully, he mentions Crux not at all. Jason thinking Crux is a friend worth missing would be more disbelief than I can willingly suspend. Anyways, they're interrupted by a welcome sight.

The loud yelling returns us to seeing Monsieur Mallah yell like a drill sergeant at the Outlaws of Tomorrow, or whatever those kids were called. You remember them: Devour, Doomed, Cloud 9, DNA, Babe in Arms and Mombie (which I swear I came up with before it was ever written in an issue), and Vessel. Anyways, they were my favourite part of the last dozen issues or whenever they first appeared. Jason points a gun at Mallah to try and get him to stop yelling at the kids, and Ma Gunn calls him out on it. Basically, she's hired Mallah and the Brain to train these kids, since Jason keeps skipping out on it. If he disapproves of her methods, then he should train them himself. He concedes the point, and opts to leave the kids in her care.

Jason leaves, heading up to Dr. Veritas' lab. This is where Duela's ended up after they rescued her from the flashback. She's alive, but part of her recovery has been reconstructive surgery. Her repaired face has basically left her non-verbal and mostly unresponsive. Jason has a plan, though. It's probably supposed to be his pocket, but I swear it looks like he's taking this out of the fly of his jeans. That's extremely worrying, almost as worrying as what actually happens: Jason hands her a rubber Joker mask, and she puts it on. With her "face" restored, she starts laughing--and doesn't stop. Jason wonders if this was a good idea after all. I'm gonna go ahead and venture "no"~

Following that, we advance three weeks, where Duela has been doing physical therapy in Suzie Su's private gym. She's been struggling, and is still mostly non-verbal, but at least communicates in laughs and animal noises. Jason decides the best way to get her to improve is to taunt her. Surprisingly, it works: when he dumps enough insults, she's able to stagger to her feet well enough to attack him. He says he knew she could do it with the right motivation, and she's pleased with herself. Pleased enough that when the time skips ahead again, she's perfectly verbal once more.

This scene takes place in a graveyard. Not just any, but the very grave that Jason once upon a time clawed his way out of. Naturally, she thinks that's cool. This is Jason's "don't make the same mistakes I did" lecture, but Duela doesn't want to hear it. She's too mad at Punchline and Joker for treating her like shit. Jason understands, but he says he'll be there for her when she decides to change her mind about being a crazy psychopath. They both return home to Ma Gunn's, but while Jason laments some thoughts to Artemis, Duela decides to escape. Just like the teen she is.

Partway off the grounds, she actually encounters Pup-Pup. Yeah, the talking Superman plush doll is still somehow hanging around. I might pick on this series a bit, and rightly so sometimes, but how many other comics do you know where a sapient talking plush toy of one of the world's greatest heroes is a recurring character? That's fantastic. That's exactly why I read comic books. Anyway, she stops to chat with Pup-Pup, because when life throws that much weirdness at you, you stop and interact. She relays an exaggerated version of her backstory to him, talking about how her father beat her while her mother laughed, and she killed them both in the end. Pup-Pup sees right through it, and the pair of them end up hanging out all night until Jason finds them both asleep in the yard the next morning.

So it's a bit later, and they're in New York. A bank's been broken into by... Agent Smith from The Matrix?? It's a group of guys in shades and suits who are all identical and refer to themselves as sharing a single collective mind. I don't care that they call themselves "The Chairmen", that sounds like Agent Smith to me. Fortunately, the Outlaws are here to beat them up. Joker's Daughter and her pal Pup-Pup have joined as the pre-requisite third member(s), but partway through the fight, the strain of the fight causes Duela to have some sort of mental break.

Very suddenly, it's no longer funny for Duela. She's not into the violence or death. She is just a teen, after all, and I guess it built up over time. The rest of the Agent Smiths are dealt with while Jason comforts Duela and removes the Joker mask from her. No doubt he's going to store it back in his trousers. And so, after the fight, Duela gets cleaned up, dresses like a normal person, and returns home to her parents. Artemis imparts the wisdom that it doesn't matter how you live, as long as you're living the way you want, it's the greatest act of defiance there is. Jason also allows Pup-Pup to stow away in her backpack, just to keep an eye on her.

After returning Duela to her home, Jason and Artemis ride on for a while. Then, abruptly, Artemis pulls over. It's as far as she's going, at least with Jason. But they both agree: he doesn't need her around anymore. He's a capable guy who can stand on his own two feet. And so Artemis also departs, she taking one road, and Jason driving down the other. And that road Jason's on? Why, it's the road home. The road back to Gotham. Jason muses that he was an okay sidekick, a crap supervillain, and a great outlaw. But what he was most of all... was a good friend.

I’m gonna say to start out with that I think this is a good issue. Heck, I think this is a great issue. It’s very character-driven, which is kind of what I always want in these things. Would much rather read something that develops the characters than just another fight scene.

I guess the issue, then, is A) does the character development make sense, and 2) do we care? And honestly... I don’t really care that Joker’s Daughter got a happy ending. Nor do I really feel it was earned. We’ve followed the character’s entire history on this blog, after all. Honestly, it probably would have made a lot more sense if she’d stayed on as part of Generation Outlaw. I just don’t think there was any build-up to her sudden realisation that “oh crap, everything I do sucks”, and thus her sudden retirement/redemption doesn’t feel earned.

But hey, at least Crux wasn’t in it~

Next issue, Jason finally goes solo!

#comics #reviews #red hood and the outlaws #red hood: outlaw #Taiblog #Joker's Daughter

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rockandroobuckaroll · 3 years

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Shyan Mafia Au - Chapter Two

I was very excited to write this chapter, less so when it came to proof reading. It’s a long one haha

Thanks to everyone who said they enjoyed the first chapter, I hope this story lives up to your expectations!

There was a pounding in Ryan's head as he slowly regained consciousness, pain splitting across his temple and tapering down his spine. He pulled his head up with great effort and winced, opening his eyes slowly to see that he was tied to the spare chair he was intending on using against 'Legs' in case things went wrong with the metal pole.

Now he was tied up just like 'Legs', bound way too tight against something that was giving off heat. For a moment or two Ryan's panicking mind thought maybe he woke up just as he was being tortured, probably set on fire to leave no evidence behind. No one would find him if he was just ash and bones. The somewhat underused rational side of Ryan's mind informed him that it would probably hurt a lot more if he was, in fact, cooking like a shrimp that fell under the grill at a barbeque.

After further inspection Ryan found that the heat source also gave off the faint smell of alcohol along with a musky aftershave he was pretty sure he owned at home. It was also moving, Ryan flinching forwards as his head collided with whatever it was, groaning as the pain in his skull amplified considerably.

"Come on, man, you've already knocked me out once tonight. Please try not to do it a second time." It was 'Legs' and he didn't sound overjoyed to find Ryan bound against his back, his voice still sounded groggy, however now it seemed to be mixed with strain.

"Oh great..." Ryan wasn't too thrilled either though he was more concerned with the pulsing running through his skull with every frantic beat of his heart. "God, my head's killing me!"

"Yeah, feels like shit, doesn't it?" He muttered sarcastically to Ryan, spitting out blood afterwards as if to prove some sort of point. It didn't travel very far, in fact it pitifully just dribbled down his chin and landed straight in his lap. "That was supposed to look more badass." Ryan couldn't see what he had done so he wondered who he was talking to, though he assumed whoever had knocked him out was stood behind him and in front of 'Legs'.

Ryan tried his best to ignore him and instead took to looking around the room. Things were mostly how he left them, though he couldn't help but notice a dark patch on the floor beneath the two chairs. It didn't take a genius to recognise what it was, the glisten coming from the reflection of the bulb above them showing hints of a deep red - the same red that was stained in Ryan's mind. He closed his eyes and looked away for fear he would be sick if he looked at it any longer.

There wasn't much blood and it was closer to 'Legs' than it was Ryan but it still gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach as reality came crashing upon him. He was going to die here. He came here on a job that he knew could very well kill him, but he'd almost managed to pull it off; now thanks to his own carelessness he'd managed to get them both killed by some third psychopath. If only Ryan had remembered to lock the door.

"Good to see you awake, Ricky. Bloody Mary sends her thanks." A voice Ryan didn't recognise cut through the silence.

"Bloody Mary?" Ryan hadn't heard of that name before. "Wait, how do you know my name?" It dawned on Ryan that he may have been tracked from the second he landed in New Orleans, he hadn't exactly been careful.

"Me and Roberto had a lovely chat before you woke up." 'Legs' informed him. "I told him everything I know - which is nothing at all, so if you wouldn't mind letting me go now. I promise I'll forget this whole thing-" A gunshot pierced Ryan's ears, startling him so much he raised a good few inches off his seat. He saw the sparks fly off the wall in front of him: a warning shot.

"I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut?" The man sounded way more intimidating than Ryan could ever hope to be. Ryan assumed just talking in a smooth, low voice would be enough but evidently not. "You really don't shut up, do you?"

"That's what I've been saying..." Ryan scoffed under his breath.

"You got something to say, Ricky?" Ryan's whole body tensed up and his eyes widened. He hated how he found himself leaning back into 'Legs' slightly, as though being closer to him would give him comfort - it wasn't like he had just been trying to kill the guy or anything.

"No, sir!" Ryan's lip quivered as he spoke; he hadn't been this scared since the night his family died. "Sorry, sir!"

"Wow, you're such a tough guy." 'Legs' remarked, helping to ground Ryan in the strangest of ways. He found himself focusing on how someone could be so calm after having two people come for his life in the same night; the guy was tied to a chair and had a loaded gun pointed at him for fucks sake! It also helped him to think through the situation carefully, assess his best way out of this with his person still intact. "I can't believe this is the guy that brought me here! Can you believe this shit, Roberto?"

"You came here of your own free will, 'Legs'." Ryan reminded him in a shaky tone, terrified of the reality that he could get shot any second but still wanted to defend his honour.

"Yeah, 'cause I thought we were gonna... ah, y'know what, maybe we shouldn't discuss this in front of Roberto" 'Legs' cleared his throat, adjusting his position in his seat which caused the ropes to dig further into Ryan's chest.

"Stop moving around, asshole!" Ryan retaliated by nudging him with his elbow. It didn't hit very hard due to him not being able to move much but the satisfaction it gave Ryan was unmatched.

"I don't get paid enough for this shit... also I don't know where you got Roberto from, that's not my name. That's not even my nickname!" The man ranted, stalking around the two of them and entering Ryan's view so he could finally get a better look at him. He looked way too cliché for Ryan's liking, it was far too tasteless. He had the typical black suit, buttoned neatly with a grey tie beneath it and shoes that were shined so hard Ryan could see his own reflection in them. He had a red handkerchief folded neatly and peeking neatly out of his blazer pocket and, of course, he was wearing a fedora. Ryan felt this guy was trying to sell the look too hard, it was almost embarrassing to look at although as a person he wasn't that bad looking.

It took for Ryan to have the guy's pistol placed under his chin to stop judging his fashion choices and pay attention to what was happening. "I don't know what you're doing here, buddy, but you're getting in my way." He threatened, "We've been after 'Legs' for months... we finally get him right where we want him and you show up out of nowhere? Who are you, really? You from Chicago like him? Jersey maybe?"

"I'm not telling you anything!" Ryan only wished he sounded braver and not like a kid who'd lost his mom at a theme park. "Look, I was here to get rid of him too. We're on the same team here."

"Wow, thanks for having my back, pal." 'Legs' laughed to himself at his stupid joke - if he could even call it that. "Get it, 'cause you're-"

"Oh my god, 'Legs' shut the fuck up!" Ryan had his eyes closed as the man pressed the gun into his skin. "How the fuck are you making jokes right now? What is wrong with you?"

"Tell me what you're doing here and I'll think about letting you go." The man bargained, Ryan considering it. Selling out the mob of his home town wasn't something he could get away with easily. "If not... your brains'll end up painting the back of this guys big head."

"My head is proportional to my body I'll have you know." 'Legs' had a specific tone to his voice as if he'd had the conversation before. "It's not easy being this tall you know!"

"Can you please stop being so fucking casual about this!" Ryan practically begged 'Legs' to shut up, the comfort his stupid comments had once given him no longer there to protect him now that there was a loaded gun under his chin.

"You get used to this kind of thing, Ricky." Having his life threatened wasn't something he wanted to get used to. For the whole trip to New Orleans he had been questioning his decision to actually join a group of people known for their dangerous lifestyle. He knew his logic was flawed and that it was a reckless move, but he was desperate. In hindsight he knew that he really should have just took the plunge and reintroduced himself into the world, slowly reuniting with friends and family and maybe even his therapist. The mafia really should have been the very, very last resort.

"You better get used to talking too or else you'll have to get used to being dead." The man rushed Ryan for an answer.

"Okay... okay. I was sent here to kill him. I haven't been told what exactly for, but apparently he's been getting in a lot of people's bad books." Ryan tried to be as vague as possible, not wanting to give away the names of those who sent him. "I'm uh... I'm a hitman, I'm just here to take care of business, get paid then I'm out of here." Another half truth.

"Believable." 'Legs' muttered, Ryan losing his temper with him.

"Oh my god, dude, shut the fuck up!" Ryan attempted to elbow him again, putting his whole body weight into it. The result ended up with the two of them tumbling to the side, landing with a thud on the cold concrete floor.

"Fuck." 'Legs' winced, seemingly taking the blow harder than Ryan; although given that Ryan's face was now resting in a small puddle of blood he correctly assumed 'Legs' was pained for another reason. The both of them sighed at the same time, Ryan to steady his nerves and 'Legs' to ease his pain.

"You okay?" They both asked each other on instinct. There was a silence in the room for a second, nothing but the sound of a very aggravated mob guy at his wits end with the both of them. Any second now Ryan assumed he would get fed up with trying to get answers out of them and just shoot them both.

"Did you just ask me if I was okay?" Ryan couldn't believe 'Legs' was still considering his wellbeing, although his response wasn't as shocked as Ryan's was, in fact he sounded rather furious.

"Don't fucking ask me if I'm okay when this is all your fault!" He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Man, if you'd have just shut up I'd have killed you by now! You wouldn't be suffering right now! This is on you!" He knew that wasn't true, this was all on Ryan, but it felt good to release all his adrenaline out on someone.

"Can you both shut up?" The mob guy crouched down and held his gun in Ryan's face.

"Why don't you just hurry up and get on with this, you walking cliché?" So Ryan wasn't the only one who thought the guy was trying too hard with his outfit.

"Cliché?"

"Yeah, the outfit is a bit much." Ryan joined in, unable to help himself. He should have known better, he really should have but there was something about hearing the pain in 'Legs' voice that made him want to cheer him up just a little; Ryan wasn't doing a good job of convincing himself that it was guilt that was motivating him to wind up the guy with murderous intent.

"This suit was expensive! You two are-" The man stopped as his phone started ringing. "Don't you two move." He warned, firing another warning shot near Ryan's head, the shot so loud it made his ears ring. Ryan's eyes were squeezed shut so he couldn't physically see what was happening but he could just about make out the sound of the man answering his phone and walking up the stairs, locking them in the basement.

"He's just gonna leave us here? What now? What if we're down here forever? I'm not starving to death down here and no way I'm resulting to cannibalism!" Ryan panicked, writhing around on the floor to try and get free of his bonds.

"Calm down, Ricky." 'Legs' kicked him. "Listen to me, you've got to untie me. Look over there, he kicked your gun under the boiler. If we can get it, we can get out of here... but we've got to work together."

"Yeah, no fucking chance." Ryan scoffed. "The second I untie you you're gonna grab that gun, blow a hole in my brain and be on your merry way."

"Ricky, we're literally tied together. When you untie me you're untying yourself."

"Then why would you suggest that I had to be the one to untie you?" Ryan couldn't trust him, there was no way anyone would trust a man like him. "How about you untie me?"

"We don't have time to argue about this, dammit!" He snapped, seeming desperate. "Look, I'm in no shape here to be putting up a fight anyway. If you wanted to overpower me you could in an instant... even if I don't believe for one second that you're some fucking hitman. No way, you're way too unprofessional."

"Oh give me a break, this is my first job!" Ryan rolled his eyes, moving his hands to try and find the knot that was between them. He yanked on 'Legs' fingers at first, resulting in another kick, though eventually he managed to find the knot. It took him a while but he finally loosened it to the point the two of them could break free. Ryan immediately rushed to grab the gun, checking to make sure it was still loaded before turning back to 'Legs'.

Ryan froze when he laid eyes on his face, his jaw falling slightly slack. 'Legs' face was bruised, his eye swollen slightly and his lip was split, straight down the middle. He had blood running out his nose, down into his mouth and onto his chin: he looked like he had just had a run in with the killer in a horror movie. He was also on his hands and knees, his right arm keeping him stable on the ground whilst he clutched his stomach with his left... Ryan certainly didn't do this to him when he had the chance. That guy upstairs really was going to kill them if he saw they were free.

"Get up, come on." Ryan had a plan. Hide beneath the basement stairs, wait for the man to come back down then shoot him at the first chance he got. This wasn't like the concept of shooting 'Legs', 'Legs' didn't act like the killer he was, he had been a complete jackass to him as soon as Ryan betrayed him like he had, but that was only fair. That man upstairs was a stone cold, calculated killer, not some idiot in a flower shirt who just wanted to have a good night.

Ryan's hand still shook as he held the gun: it still didn't feel right being held in his hand. He knew he would have to shoot this man, he would have to join 'Legs' in becoming a murderer... but he feared that even with his life at risk he didn't have it in him.

"I don't think I can." 'Legs' was struggling to even speak, his teeth gritted together and his eyes were closed as though he was trying to meditate his way out of pain.

"He's gonna come back any second now, move your ass!" Ryan's fear was causing him to be harsh, but he knew there was no point in sugar-coating the situation. "Come on!" Ryan grabbed his arm and pulled him up, 'legs' leaning against him heavily and doing his best to keep up. Ryan shrugged him off his shoulder and took a steady breath, hoping the shake in his hands wouldn't throw off his aim. "I don't know if I can do this... can't you kill him? You're the fucking expert or whatever."

"Ricky, I can barely stand right now, much less perfectly aim and shoot someone." He had a valid point, even if Ryan had trouble accepting it.

"'Legs' I really don't think I can do this." Ryan was starting to panic. "Can't I just... wait!" He pointed to the metal pole that had been dropped casually in the middle of the room. "That thing I can use!" He tucked his gun away in his belt, opting for his trusty metal pole instead - even if it had been used against him that evening too. That only meant one thing to Ryan however: it hurt like a motherfucker.

The door opened far before Ryan was prepared for it, his heart sinking to the shrill screech of the metal scraping against the concrete. Ryan felt a hand on his shoulder, 'Legs' breathing sounding heavy; he couldn't tell if the guy was just nervous (though he doubted that given how nonchalant he had been about having a loaded gun being pointed at him) or about to pass out. Ryan certainly felt a mixture of both, he felt nauseous and dizzy from the fear alone.

The sound of the man coming down the stairs sang in sync with the pounding of Ryan's heart, drumming adrenaline into his body that he could hopefully use to knock the guy spark-out. The man seemed furious that the two had managed to escape, cursing under his breath and pulling his gun out. The sight made Ryan's blood run cold but he knew it was now or never: if the guy saw them first it would be all over.

He took a few cautious steps forward, sneaking up behind him and trying to hold his breath to be as silent as he possibly could. He had the pole raised, ready to strike when the man turned around. Ryan had never moved so quick in his life, jumping to his left whilst swinging the pole like a baseball bat. He connected with the back of the guys head just has he pulled the trigger. He didn't fall quite as quickly as 'Legs' had, instead stumbling forward a few paces before dropping down.

"I did it... holy shit! I did it!" Ryan wasn't so sure it was something to celebrate but his neurons were firing off in every direction, he couldn't contain it. "Did you see that!" He turned to 'Legs' who was now on the floor, clutching his thigh as blood pooled under his fingers.

Ryan looked down at the man he had knocked out, at the gun that lay at his feet. He did the smart thing and picked it up, putting the safety on and storing it in his belt with his own gun. He then looked back up at 'Legs', the guy who was supposed to be long dead by now at his own hand. If he left him here there was no chance he could get out, his leg had a hole in it now and he could barely even stand before. Ryan could just shut the basement door, lock the two men down there and leave. They'd probably kill each other and Ryan wouldn't have to worry about a thing.

The light coming from the lobby upstairs beckoned him, Ryan answering its call and approaching the stairs, looking through the gaps at 'Legs' who was trying to pull himself up. The second he made eye contact Ryan's plan suddenly had a moral dilemma attached.

"Don't go... please!" He begged, struggling to drag his body closer to Ryan - to the stairs and the only way out that he now guarded like Cerberus. "Come on, man, this guy's gonna kill me!"

"That's your problem." Was the most cold-hearted, badass thing Ryan could think of in the moment before he started walking up the stairs. He reached the top and hovered his hand over the handle of the door. All he had to do now was shut the door and lock it... 'just walk away Ryan, pretend this never happened' his mind reminded him of his plan.

'Legs' had managed to pull himself to the bottom of the stairs, cautiously glancing over at the unconscious man in the middle of the room. Ryan looked down at him, looking into the same eyes that crinkled into thin lines when he laughed earlier, the same eyes that had been a calming presence when he was having a panic attack at the diner. One of those eyes was now swollen and the other had a glint of terror Ryan recognised in his own eyes every time he looked in a mirror. This was all his fault: he'd caused this.

Being alone all his life had kept him alive. Having no ties to anyone had kept him safe. This guy would put him in more danger than he'd ever been in his life if he helped him out here; he could prevent that by simply closing the door and walking away... but Ryan couldn't just leave him there.

"Dammit." He groaned, rushing back down the stairs, grabbing 'Legs' roughly and pulling him up, the taller of the two yelping and gripping onto Ryan to steady himself. "One step at a time, but you've got to be quick. He's gonna wake up any second."

"Shit..." Was all 'Legs' mumbled, wobbling about on the spot.

"Hey man, you pass out on me and I leave you here." Ryan moved up the first step, 'Legs' slowly following him. It took them a while, each step agonisingly slow for the both of them, but eventually they made it to the top, 'Legs' panting heavily as Ryan sat him down on one of the sofas in the lobby. "Wait here."

Ryan locked the basement door, using the metal pole to secure it and one of the sofas to blockade it just to be on the safe side. He dusted his hands off and approached 'Legs' again, holding his hand out so he could use it to pull himself up.

"Come on, I'll take you to a hospital. It's the least I can do." He offered though it was quickly turned down.

"You heard that guy, he was sent by Bloody Mary... If she's after me then the hospitals aren't safe. She'll find me there. She'll come for you too now, Ricky. We're gonna have to stick together on this one." That certainly complicated things, the two of them didn't exactly get along after Ryan tried to murder him. This Bloody Mary woman also sounded like a big deal, she was probably a higher up, a boss or at the very least an associate of the New Orleans Mafia's boss. Ryan had never even heard of her, his own ties to the mob not warning him about her before flying him out here. "There's a hotel on the edge of town, the owners are real nut jobs who believe in ghosts and shit. Bloody Mary wont go near the place, she's got a thing for respecting spirits... we can hide there for now."

"You're going to bleed out, man. Isn't there some shady black market surgeon I can take you to?" It was worth a shot, granted 'Legs' had the ties of course.

"Yeah, 'cause I look like the kind of guy that keeps company with people who steal kidneys." He glowered, resting his head in his hands as he sighed. "I'm fine, I swear. I just need to clean it out and get some rest."

"Okay... okay, you win." Ryan gave in. "But are you going to be alright to give directions? No offence man but you look like shit. Are you're about to pass out?" 'Legs' pulled a series of expressions that tried to seem flippant and he waved it off with his hand.

"I'm fine. Big tough guy like me? This is nothing." Ryan would have to have been an idiot to believe him.

"Oh yeah? Let's go then." He took his offered hand back and walked over to the front doors. "Come on, flower shirt, thought you said this was nothing?" Ryan did think it was a shame that the shirt that suited the guy so well was probably stained forever and would have to be thrown away.

"Ricky, I literally have a hole in my leg." He reminded him, "You want to try walking with a hole in your leg? Give me one of your guns and let's find out if you can do it."

"Not a chance. Just because I saved your sorry ass doesn't mean I can trust you enough to give you a gun." Ryan walked back over to him, crouching down in front of the sofa. "But, just this once and I mean it: just this once... climb on my back." 'Legs' seemed somewhat taken aback by the offer.

"You do realise you're, like, three feet shorter than me, right? Can you even carry me?" Even now he was cracking jokes, Ryan was still considering the possibility that there was something seriously wrong with his brain. He wouldn't admit there was a sort of charm to how carefree he was though, he just liked to think it was because he saw him as a parallel to himself, he was just envious of him, that's all.

"You really are insufferable, you know that?"

"I know." He slid forward and wrapped his arms around Ryan's shoulders, Ryan hooking his arms under 'Legs' legs. "Most people say that about me."

"I can't imagine why." Ryan's words were laced with sarcasm. "Alright, then. Let's go."

'Legs' had managed to keep himself awake as he guided Ryan through the back streets of New Orleans, pointing out where to go at every turning whilst growing heavier and heavier on Ryan's back. He felt a little bit of pride for him to be able to fight off unconsciousness for that long, it was quite frankly impressive!

They arrived at the hotel about half an hour later, 'Legs' climbing off Ryan's back and keeping his head down as to not look suspicious. Ryan had a better idea and left him outside however, only booking a room with one, single sized bed so it would be on record that he came here alone. He liked to think he was playing it smart, but it also dawned on him that he would now have to spend the night with the guy who couldn't shut up with stupid jokes. Either that or he could just ditch him there.

Not to mention, as 'legs' had briefly mentioned: the hotel was supposedly haunted. Ryan believed in ghosts, he'd been scared of them all his life yet had always been fascinated by them. He'd never once stayed somewhere that was haunted, not even by coincidence; so when he saw the name of the hotel, being the Dauphine Orleans Hotel he felt a cold shiver down his spine. He had read about this place online, about how footsteps could be heard in vacant rooms and shadows moved around on their own. To say he was nervous about staying the night there was an understatement.

As he made his way back outside and towards the rooms he spied 'Legs' sitting against the same wall Ryan had left him at, his head leaning back and tilting up towards the sky. His eyes were closed and for a moment or two Ryan thought he had finally passed out, or worse (or better, depending on how Ryan felt in the moment) he was dead.

"Come on, idiot." Ryan nudged him with his foot to bring him back into action. "Let's get you in bed."

"Wow, coming on a bit strong, aren't you Ricky?" 'Legs' opened his eyes and looked up at him with a lopsided grin.

"I could just leave you out here, you know?" Ryan was very tempted, especially when his own face betrayed him and he blushed. In Ryan's defence he had been on a pretty fun date with the guy just before everything went very, very wrong.

He smuggled 'Legs' into the room with relative ease; there was hardly anyone about at this time of night and the hotel was remarkably understaffed. Once the door was closed Ryan felt like he could breathe for the first time that night, though he knew he still had one job left to do.

'Legs' slowly made his way over to the bed, dropping down on it with a groan as he held his leg tightly. Meanwhile Ryan explored the bathroom to find the first aid kit: luckily the hotel supplied one. He looked at where the bullet wound was and bit his lip, there was no subtle way to say what he was about to say.

"You're gonna need to take off your jeans." He knew he would receive a smirk for that one, Ryan doing his best to just move past it and helped 'Legs' slide the tight fabric down over his wound. It looked painful, Ryan wincing when he looked at it and almost gagging at the sight of blood that returned so many awful memories.

As always, 'Legs' seemed to find a way to make things both more awkward but calming at the same time. "You know, this isn't the way I imagined you would be taking my pants off tonight."

"Okay... I'm gonna need you to shut up." Ryan shook his head and took an alcohol wipe out from the first aid kit. "This is probably going to sting, by the way. If you behave maybe I'll be gentle."

"Oh, to hear you say that under different circumstances." He was clearly intent on making things more awkward, Ryan doing his best to try and ignore him as he gently wiped the blood surrounding the wound. "Y'know..." 'Legs' spoke through gritted teeth, "It's crazy to think that just a few inches north I would have got shot in the dick."

"Dude, please shut up." Ryan was blushing just thinking about it. "Though I know now why people know you as 'Legs'... these things are fucking long, man!"

"Yeah, that's not the only thing that's long - ow!" Ryan applied more pressure over the wound, effectively shutting him up. Working in silence was much easier, if not slightly more awkward. Ryan managed to clean away all the blood and take to wrapping 'Legs' upper thigh in bandages.

"That'll do for now. Let me know if it starts bleeding through it." Ryan took to disposing the wipes in the bathroom bin, returning to the room where 'Legs' was still silent. Ryan could tell there was something eating away at him, something he was dying to ask but couldn't quite find the words. He wasn't so sure that he was ready for such a potentially heavy conversation with a guy like him just yet so he let the two of them to continue to marinate in the silence, just until 'Legs' was ready to talk.

"Why did you come back for me back there? Wasn't it your job to kill me?" Ryan was still unsure of the answer to that himself. "Wouldn't it have just been easier to let that guy take care of me?" It must be a hard life he lived when the question that had been eating away at him was why someone had shown him sympathy. Ryan couldn't imagine 'Legs' had many opportunities to have people show him compassion and not shoot on sight.

Ryan thought about that for a second or two, avoiding eye contact with him as he did. He eventually just shrugged and finally met his eye, trying to be as nonchalant as 'Legs' usually was. "It wouldn't have felt right to leave you with him..." He started with, promptly adding. "I wanted to kill you myself."

"Well, I'm sat here in front of you, probably about to pass out. I've got a hole in my leg and you're blocking the door and only way out... what's stopping you from killing me now?" It was a fair question, though Ryan knew it was more of a test. 'Legs' still viewed him as someone who was incompetent at their job, someone who didn't have the guts to kill; Ryan didn't know whether to be relieved or terrified to find out how much of a coward he was... at least he was a coward with a moral compass, right?

"I still might just do it, you're a pretty annoying guy." Ryan spoke jokingly. "You know, if I was stuck in a room with you and the most evil, twisted guy on the planet and I had two bullets, I'd probably shoot you twice."

"Wow, aren't you a nice guy - and completely original, might I add." 'Legs' rolled his eyes, "I bet your mom would be so proud of that answer."

'Legs' had been making jokes all evening, making a new sarcastic comment every few minutes or disingenuous insult whenever someone said anything he didn't quite agree with. Ryan hadn't taken anything he had said to heart, nothing had even come close to insulting him so he was able to play off what he was saying and banter with the guy. It had been frustrating at times and at times it had remined him of his childhood, bickering with his brother over who got to be player one in a video game or who got to have the slightly bigger scoop of ice cream.

However when 'Legs' innocently made a joke about Ryan's mother, whom he had been with in her final moments as she faded from life on the kitchen floor, Ryan's mind decided in a split second that it was too far. Something within him snapped, his face dropping from mildly amused to blind fury.

Ryan took one of the guns from his belt and stormed over to 'Legs' who wore a confused and equally concerned expression on his face. Ryan pressed the gun against the taller man's temple, his finger aching to pull the trigger.

"Don't you dare even fucking talk about her!" Ryan's whole body was boiling with anger. How dare someone who had murdered people himself talk about his mom, about his family in general. The thought had even crossed his mind that maybe 'Legs' was the one who killed his family that night. It was baseless, just a throw away theory but it was enough of a possibility for Ryan to see red, especially as 'Legs' continued to be painfully casual about the situation.

"Can you do it?" He smiled that same lopsided grin he had worn outside the hotel, as though he was above the situation. "Can you really become a killer?" He could tell Ryan had never killed anyone before by the way that the gun trembled slightly against his temple. He looked Ryan directly in his eyes, an impish glint reflecting in them. "You've not got it in you, I can see it in your beady little eyes."

It was as if time stood still for Ryan, his anger getting the better of him.

He pulled the trigger.

'Legs' flinched, bringing his hands up to his head to try and protect himself as he squeezed his eyes closed. A moment or two later as he realised there wasn't a bullet in his brain or a ringing in his ears he untensed his body and opened his eyes, meeting Ryan's equally shocked and terrified expression. He knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, based off Ryan's expression, but he found himself asking it anyway in a timidly quiet voice.

"Did... did you know the safety was on?" His voice only brought more panic to Ryan, knowing the guy who had been so cavalier about this whole evening was now terrified of the guy he'd branded a coward - someone who wasn't capable of pulling the trigger.

Ryan shook his head, his eyes wide and his heart pounding. He slowly backed away from 'Legs' and sat down against the wall beside the bed. He brought his knees up to his chest and held his head in his hands, the gun still quivering in his grip.

"I just shot you." Ryan's voice was vacant, his mind fogging over and leaving him in a state of shock, alone in the mist with only 'Legs' voice to try and save him from getting lost.

"Hey, it's okay, Ricky! I'm not dead, look I'm alive." He assured, shuffling over to the edge of the bed and swinging his legs over, it hurt to move and gave 'Legs' a queasy feeling from the constant ache, but he was reliant on Ryan right now; he couldn't walk on his own and had no chance of getting out of New Orleans alive without him. He needed to push through the pain and be there for him, even if the guy had literally just pulled the trigger on him.

"I shot you!" Ryan spoke louder, trying his best to hold in his emotions and not become hysterical.

"I was just being an asshole, that was on me. I wound you up when I should have been... I should have... I'm sorry, Ricky." He actually apologised, the words not helping Ryan with his hysterics but it certainly cut a path through the fog in his mind.

"It's not that, it's the fact that I feel bad about it! I shouldn't feel bad! I should have just shot you back in the basement and been done with it, but I couldn't fucking do it! That guy who was going to kill us? I couldn't bring myself to kill him either!" 'Legs' tentatively placed his hand on Ryan's shoulder.

"Maybe that's a good thing?" He tried to talk some sense into Ryan, "You're a good guy, Ricky."

"How the hell could I have protected them back then... I always thought if I joined the mob I'd be brave and maybe... maybe I could convince myself that if I'd been at home I could have protected them but..." 'Legs' tried not to show his visual confusion over the topic, his brain whirring and trying to figure out just what he was talking about. "If I'd have been home it wouldn't have made any difference. They'd still be dead and I'd still be alone."

Crushing realisation hit 'Legs' like the bullet that hit his thigh: Ryan was talking about his family. "I'm so sorry, Ricky. I really didn't know... I was being a dick earlier, honestly I'm sure your mom would be proud of you for not being some vengeful murderer."

"I've joined the fucking Mafia, 'Legs'! How could she be proud of that?" Ryan hit himself on the head with the gun, not hard but enough to clearly hear the sound of the impact. Even if the safety was on 'Legs' was still cautious of the way Ryan had moved it around so suddenly.

"I'm sure you had your reasons." 'Legs' was certainly in no position to judge Ryan on his life choices, given that he was part of the same lifestyle.

"I wanted protection. I was just so fucking alone and scared all the time! I just wanted to feel safe!" Ryan wasn't quite comfortable with the fact that he was having a heart-to-heart with a murderer. He really should have been having this conversation with his therapist - if he even still had her number saved to his phone. He had a feeling she would be slightly more judgemental than 'Legs' was being about this whole situation.

"I understand where you're coming from, Ricky." 'Legs' tried his best to empathise with Ryan, although he didn't quite seem comfortable to talk about his own woes. "I've been alone for so long because of the Mob. I know what it feels like to want protection... but this isn't the way forward, buddy."

Ryan shook his head and looked up with a slightly tainted version of his furious expression from earlier. "I'm not your fucking buddy!" He clicked the safety off this time and aimed the gun at him, 'Legs' raising his hands in surrender. "You're a fucking murderer! Why should I be scared about killing you?"

"Come on... we both know this isn't the right thing to do." His voice was so calm it drove Ryan mad. "Give me the gun, Ricky."

Ryan glared at him for what felt like an eternity before turning the gun on himself, closing his eyes and feeling the cool metal of his revolver against his skin. The clatter of the bullets in the chamber rattled in tune with his shaking hand. If he couldn't shoot the guy who kept taunting him there was no way he could pull the trigger on himself, though Ryan had to admit there was something much more simple about shooting himself instead.

"Ricky... give me the gun." 'Legs' leaned forward, holding his hands towards the gun and inching closer as slow as a lion stalking an innocent antelope. "This isn't the way forward, you know it's not. Please... give me the gun." Ryan felt 'Legs' hands cover his own, pulling the gun away from him with ease; Ryan didn't even put up a fight. 'Legs' took the gun and clicked the safety back on, placing it at the far side of the bed and letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

When he turned back to Ryan the shorter of the two stood up, wiping his eyes which were now wet with tears and made sure to tread quickly as he shut himself in the bathroom. As much as he hated the feeling: he just needed to be alone for a moment. Despite having a breakdown in front of the guy twice now he didn't want 'Legs' to see him crying, as if that was where he drew the line and aiming a gun at him not once, not twice but three times was okay.

Having a shower would hopefully clear his head, or at least Ryan prayed it would. Washing away the blood that had been staining his bruised temple and cheek certainly helped him feel a little bit better, that was for certain; the warmth of the water also helping his tense muscles to unwind and melt into the steam. It wasn't until after he was finished that he realised there was a jacuzzi tub that he regretted not slipping into instead, though when he tested it he was disappointed to find the jets didn't work.

He stepped out the shower feeling slightly more human, able to breathe a little bit deeper and think a little bit clearer. He dried himself off with the towel the hotel supplied and dressed himself in his suit once more, wishing he had different clothes to wear. If he was going on the run he'd make sure to buy an outfit that made him less conspicuous for sure.

When the bathroom door opened Ryan was expecting 'Legs' to ask him if he was okay in his own unique, jovial way; the two weren't exactly friends after all. He was expecting a subtle comment or joke to ease the tension between them. Instead all Ryan heard was a croaky groan coming from him as he opened one eye to glance over before closing it again.

'Legs' was now lying on his side, cheek pressed firmly into the side of the pillow with the duvet pulled up to his chin. He was paler than before, his bruises and split lip standing out in stark contrast on his face in a way that made Ryan wince. He couldn't believe this guy still hadn't passed out, although he had a feeling it was only a matter of seconds.

"You look like shit, man." Ryan gave a helpful observation, receiving a middle finger in response. "You sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"'M sure." He mumbled in response, Ryan walking over to the bed and sighing as he looked to the small table beside it. 'Legs' had placed the gun there, right beside the little table lamp that struggled to illuminate the room. There was still something within Ryan that knew his troubles here in New Orleans would be over if he just picked it up and shot him. He could call Father Thomas and be out of there by sunrise, his own personal bodyguards meeting him at the airport. He knew what he had to do, the gun was right there and 'Legs' was barely conscious but he was right about Ryan and had been all along: he didn't have it in him.

Ryan sat on the edge of the bed and picked up the gun, looking at his distorted reflection and sighing. "What's the real reason you didn't kill me?" 'Legs' mumbled from the pillow, eyes still closed. "If we're stuck with each other I'd at least like to know why."

"We're not stuck with each other. No one said anything about his being stuck together." Ryan denied as he put the gun down. "I'm heading back to LA anyway, keeping my head low on the way. I don't need your massive noggin giving me away. You can head on back to Chicago or wherever that guy said you're from and tell your little mob friends you gave ol' Goldsworth the slip." Ryan hoped if he left 'Legs' in the state he was in someone from the Orleans Mafia would take care of him eventually; either that or he wouldn't survive the night which would make everything so much easier on Ryan.

"I uh... I would but I kinda quit." 'Legs' admitted, opening his eyes now. Ryan turned back to him with a sceptical look, unable to take his words at face value. For all he knew it could be some type of trick to get him to lower his guard and 'Legs' could kill him in his sleep. "I was out here trying to lay low, blend in... I was hoping to just be free of all this shit. Right up until you came along... guess I was in idiot to think you can get out once you get in."

"Sure." Ryan scoffed, trying not to think about the misty eyed look he was currently facing. "No one just quits the mob. What were you really up to here? Hm? Stirring more shit?" I bet you were planning on killing more of the New Orleans Mafia, weren't you? Is that why that guy came after you - why this Bloody Mary lady is still after you?" Ryan chose not to believe him, he's always been good at letting his paranoia get the better of him, after all. It was part of the reason he wanted protection from the mob in the first place.

"I'm not some fuckin' crazed murderer, Ricky." 'Legs' sounded offended. "I don't know why that guy showed up when he did. I thought he was from the lot in Chicago I used to run with who'd come after me... or I thought maybe that he was part of your crew... right up until he knocked your sorry ass out." Ryan rolled his eyes at his own unprofessionalism; he was still kicking himself about not locking the door. "I guess they're after us both now, so well done on that."

"How's that my fault? How could I have possibly known they'd come after you at the same time I did?" He was getting rather sick of 'Legs' belittling him. He didn't know Ryan, he didn't know his plight or how he got to the spot he was in, not really. He might think he knew, but Ryan was stubborn in believing 'Legs' didn't know a single thing about him - he didn't even know his name.

"I guess you couldn't have known that... but I bet your precious lil' LA gangsters probably did." His voice was croaky but his mind was still sharp, "You got duped, Ricky. They sent you after someone even they had trouble getting to and in a city they had high tensions with... they weren't expecting you to come back." He hit the nail on the head, annoyingly so.

"They didn't dupe me. They told me you would be a hard guy to kill. I knew that coming into this. I was ready for it and, dammit, I came pretty close to succeeding!" Ryan glowered at him, "I had nothing left to lose. I needed to do this! I need their protection! It's hard for a guy to sleep at night in LA when he lives on his own, y'know? Especially after my parents... well, you don't need to know anything more about that." Ryan stopped himself before he gave away all his deepest and personal secrets. He knew 'Legs' had pieced together what had happened to them, but he didn't want him to think Ryan trusted him enough to tell him all the gory details.

"They told you about me and you still came out here? Are you stupid?" Ryan didn't like the holes he was poking in his logic. "Wait... wait, hang on. Let me get this straight.... you wanted to feel safe so you joined a gang? Not a great plan."

"I don't have to explain myself to you!" Ryan huffed as he stood up and headed for the door.

"You're leaving?" 'Legs' pulled himself up slightly, wincing at the pain his leg when he did.

"Yeah. I'm not staying around here with you. I need to get back to LA before those guys find you and kill us both." Ryan didn't feel safe with 'Legs' around, even if his annoying comments were giving him a sense of comfort. "You should just get some sleep. Wash your bandages out in the morning, else you're gonna get an infection. Good luck with trying to get that peace you wanted, 'Legs'."

"Shane."

"Huh?" Ryan turned back to him.

"My name's Shane." He wasn't looking at Ryan anymore, instead he was fidgeting with the duvet. "Shane Madej... I take it you're not actually called Ricky? Well, you might be, but Goldsworth sounds obviously made up. I sussed that out the second you told me."

"I'm not telling you my name just because you're stupid enough to tell me yours." Ryan was a little bit harsh with him, but deep down he felt flattered that 'Legs' - no, Shane had told him his real name. It meant that on some level Shane trusted him... either that or it was because he was tired of going by a nickname associated with a life he was trying to leave behind. "Get some sleep, Shane." Ryan opened the door and stepped out of the room. He breathed in the cool mid-summer's night air and looked up to the sky, leaning his head back against the door.

What the hell was he doing here? Everything had gone so wrong. He was miles from home, he was all alone, probably being tracked as he stood there in the open like a fool. To make matters worse: he knew he was trapped. He couldn't go back by plane, the New Orleans mob would be expecting that. He didn't have a car, he didn't have a stable place to stay and he had no friends or family that could bail him out. The only person in the entire state that he knew was Shane.

Shane...

Ryan felt like screaming, crying or falling to his knees and cursing whichever god had been laughing at all his plans; perhaps he would do all three. He knew giving into his fears and crying about things wouldn't do him any favours though. He had to do his best to keep his head held high, if he gave up now he knew that eventually it would get him killed.

Ryan looked up at the stars, watching them burn brightly from millions of miles away. Stargazing was calming, something he'd always taken comfort in on particularly difficult nights, but he knew standing out in the cold whilst he was a wanted man would do him no favours. As much as he hated to admit it: he was stuck with Shane. He knew his way around the city and had far more connections than Ryan could hope to have; Shane was his best shot of getting out of this alive.

He swallowed his pride and stepped back into the room, Shane opening his eyes with heavy lids and frowning at him. "Thought you were leaving?" Ryan was only outside for five minutes at most but Shane already sounded worse than before. Ryan hoped he was just tired and not showing signs of an infection.

"Yeah, well... change of plans." Ryan locked the door behind him and stepped further into the room. "It dawned on me that I don't really know my way around here... I've got no transport, I can't get to the airport without these mob guys tracking me down. I've got no friends out here, not even old acquaintances... I hate to say it, but all I have is you."

"You saying you'd miss me if you wandered off, Ricky?" Shane joked, even if his humour didn't quite break through his groggy speech. "I'm flattered."

"Ryan." He figured, what the hell, they're in this together like it or not. "Ryan Bergara... but let me tell you now, Shane. If you even think about going behind my back and getting me in even more danger I'll put a bullet between your eyes - and I mean it this time!"

"Mm... okay." Shane agreed to that fairly quickly, not believing Ryan in the slightest. He knew Ryan was a troubled individual, but the two had hopefully bonded enough by now for Shane to bypass Ryan's wannabe mobster side. "So, what's the plan?"

"It's gonna take weeks - no, probably months to walk it back to LA. We'd have to be total idiots to do that... so hopefully the mob won't track us if we do." Ryan's plan was certainly flawed and needed a few revisions or perhaps a total overhaul, but for now it was all he could think to do.

"Your plan is to literally walk half way across the state?" Shane closed his eyes again and sighed, his breath shaking as it hit the air. "You're full of bright ideas, aren't you? I'm shocked you actually managed to track me down in the first place. It's even a miracle we're both still alive."

"Hey, man, shut up." Ryan huffed, "There's not a lot of options, besides, like I said... it's our best shot of getting out of Louisiana without a bullet between the eyes."

"Okay, so by some miracle we do make it to LA... what then? Your mob pals are gonna welcome me, the guy they sent you to kill, with open arms? Hm?" Shane had a point, Ryan begrudgingly admitted. "You just turn up and say, 'hey, don't worry, he's with me, we're pals now' and expect them to not kill us both on sight?"

"I don't know!" Ryan snapped and pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a long sigh to calm down. "I don't know, okay... I just - I just want to go home..." The words were quiet as they left his tongue, but they spoke volumes to Shane. He knew exactly how Ryan felt.

"Alright..." Shane opened his eyes once more and patted the small space on the bed next to him. "Come on, we've got a long day ahead of us. We should both get some sleep."

Ryan looked down at the bed like it had just stomped on an innocent butterfly. "I'm not sharing a bed with you, dude. I was literally going to kill you half an hour ago."

"Alright, fine." Shane shrugged. "More room for me. You can enjoy the floor." He was very good at getting under Ryan's skin.

"Actually, no. Fuck you, move up." Ryan changed his mind after considering his only other options were sleeping in the jacuzzi or on the hard, cold floor. Shane shuffled backwards, wincing as he moved his leg. "You alright?" Ryan asked, forgetting for a moment that this was in fact the guy who was supposed to be dead at his hand.

"Yeah, this is nothing." Shane waved it off. "Just caught me off guard." Ryan climbed into the bed next to him, paranoid he was about to fall off the edge, his body didn't quite fit on all the way, but he also didn't want to ask Shane to move closer to the wall. As much as the taller man didn't want to admit it, Ryan could tell he was in more pain than he was letting on. "This isn't the way I expected to be in bed with you tonight... I'm still kind of offended you only wanted to go out with me because you were planning on killing me. Makes it hard for a guy like me to get over his trust issues, y'know?"

"Please shut up and go to sleep." Ryan sighed, debating going to find some duct tape and shutting Shane up for the entire journey.

It was silent as the two lay there together, Ryan fidgeting as he kept inching closer to Shane to get away from the edge of the bed, then inching closer to the edge of the bed to get away from Shane. He seriously regretted booking a room with a single, small bed now. He should have gone with at least a double. If only he hadn't been planning on leaving Shane here from the start.

"You want me to move over more?" Shane mumbled, Ryan giving in and deciding, what the hell, he didn't like the guy anyway, who cares if he was in pain?

"Yeah." Ryan muttered, Shane taking a deep breath before shuffling backwards so that his back was pressed into the wall. There still wasn't much space, but there was just enough so that Ryan could get onto the bed fully without touching Shane.

More silence.

It was quiet... too quiet.

"Be honest with me, Ryan..." Shane broke the silence, his breath against Ryan's neck as he spoke which sent involuntary shivers down his spine. "Why didn't you just leave me to die down there? You'd be out of here by now, home free... but you threw that away for me. Why?"

"You're supposed to be this big mafia tough guy from Chicago. You've killed dozens of people and got away with every single one. You've got hundreds of men after you and yet you were just partying in New Orleans? Right out in the open? You seemed like the bravest, yet most fuckin' insane guy I'd ever met." Ryan tilted his head to look at Shane, pulling his head back slightly when he realised just how close he was lying to him. "I guess I didn't expect you to look so terrified when that guy showed up and knocked me out."

"I wasn't scared." Shane denies, "He just caught me off guard. It was surprise on my face, not fear."

"Right." Ryan looked back up at the ceiling. "I couldn't just leave you there though. I've never done this before-"

"Really? I couldn't tell."

"Fuck you, I'm trying to be genuine here! I mean it though, I've got no fucking clue what I'm doing here..." The frustration Ryan felt was unparalleled. He felt so useless and naïve. "The only thing I was sure of was... was that I wouldn't have been able to sleep at night if I just left you there. You're welcome, by the way."

"Thanks for endangering me then backing out at the last second." Shane didn't sound very sincere, although he was grateful deep down. "Guess that means you'll sleep like a baby tonight then... that was a hint to shut up and go to sleep now by the way."

"You were the one who started the conversation!" 'This guy is a total jackass' Ryan thought with a glare aimed in his direction. "Why don't you go to sleep first? I'm not even tired."

"Neither am I." Shane very clearly was, he was struggling to keep his eyes open and his head kept dipping into the pillow. "Besides, you're the one who was threatening to murk me earlier! How do I know you're not going to blow my brains out the second I let my guard down?"

"I could say the same about you." Ryan retorted.

"Fine. Guess I'm not sleeping then." He folded his arms with a pout. Shane wasn't even going to blink, Ryan too. The both of them ending up in a staring contest that was more of a test of wills than a matter of endurance.

"Fine. Guess we'll just stay here all night. I'm not falling asleep first." Ryan could be just as stubborn as Shane if he wanted to.

"Neither am I. Get ready for a sleepless night, Bergara." Ryan moved so he was lying on his side, glaring into Shane's tired yet unblinking eyes. He'd crack any second, Ryan knew it. What he didn't expect was for Shane to smirk and blow into Ryan's eyes, forcing him to blink.

"That's cheating, you asshole!" Ryan cursed and shoved Shane on his arm. He didn't nudge him hard but it was enough force to cause the taller man's body to judder on the bed slightly, which was when pain flared up in his thigh. Shane squeezed his eyes shut and gripped the wound on his leg.

"Motherfucker!" Shane hissed under his breath at no one in particular.

"You had that one coming." Ryan said, although he had been meaning to apologise.

"Sorry..." Shane said for him, taking Ryan off guard. Why was he apologising? Ryan was the one who went and caused him pain. Ryan was the one who'd lured him to a hotel a few hours ago and tied him to a chair in the basement. Ryan was the one who'd knocked him out and eventually led him to getting shot in the leg. This was all Ryan's fault, so why the hell was Shane apologising?

He was certainly a hard guy to read. It was like he was just as clueless as Ryan. Ryan had a feeling Shane was plotting something; no one could be as careless as he was, partying in new Orleans like he wasn't a wanted man. There was more to it, Ryan would get to the bottom of it eventually.

"You really should have gone to a hospital." Ryan felt bad about their hasty thinking. A shady, haunted hotel in the middle of nowhere was a good hideout to keep them alive, but it would be for nothing if Shane bled out before morning.

"I'm fine, Ryan." Shane spoke through gritted teeth. "Big tough guy like me, this is tame."

"I dread to think." Ryan wasn't so sure getting used to being shot was the right lifestyle he was seeking. In fact, this whole time he was more scared than he had been the night he was left all on his own as a child. "Either way, let me have a look. You might have bled through the bandages by now."

"It's fine, Ryan." Shane swatted him away when Ryan moved his hand to grab the duvet. "Or do you just like staring at my long legs, huh?"

"I'm not - you... I'm... you're insufferable!" Ryan was flustered but it didn't stop him pulling the duvet back and inspecting Shane's wound. The bandages he had wrapped him with were holding but they were already starting to show spots of various shades of red. "You're still bleeding."

"Well yeah, there's a hole in my leg, genius." Shane mumbled. "Don't worry about it. It's fine." Shane hoped that if he kept repeating that he was fine Ryan would finally start to believe him.

"I'll change the bandages in the morning and the first place we'll head for is a pharmacy for better wraps. I'll see if I can get something to help with the pain too." Ryan at least wanted to help ease the pain... that and he didn't want to carry him for the entire journey.

"You'd need a prescription unless you plan on getting something that wont even help with a headache. They could probably track us through that." Shane informed him.

"Oh... yeah, I guess." Ryan moved back, sitting against the headrest. Shane looked up at him and nudged his arm lightly.

"Don't look so worried. If I can spend a week in the same city without really trying to hide we can get out of this alive." Shane adjusted his position so he was more comfortable, though the burning in his leg wasn't helpful in that. "Stick with me and everything will be fine."

"I guess..." Ryan sighed, pulling his knees up to his chest.

"Really, Ryan, don't worry. I'll keep you safe... just as long as you promise to do the same for me." Shane wasn't asking much, just that they would look out for each other whilst they worked together. Ryan wasn't so sure he'd be capable of protecting Shane, but it did make him feel better knowing he would have some trained, master assassin looking after him. Even if he was an asshole.

"Okay." It wasn't very assuring, but it was enough for Shane.

"Great... now shut up and go to sleep."

Ryan struggled to fall asleep, spending most of his night staring at the ceiling and listening to whoever was above them stomping around constantly. He managed to convince himself that it was just whoever was in the room above him pacing out some serious life changing decision; perhaps a new job offer or what to have for breakfast. His mind did keep drifting back to the idea that maybe Bloody Mary stayed away from this place for a reason. Maybe there really were malicious spirits haunting the hotel.

By the time Shane started snoring like a bear Ryan gave in to the idea that he wouldn't be getting much sleep. His mind was too preoccupied anyway. He spent the night thinking over every horrible possibility that could happen when morning rolled around. He thought about whether they would even survive leaving the hotel, or survive leaving the street the hotel was on. What if they got caught before they even left the block?

He couldn't focus much on the positives, on what it would feel like to relax for the first time in a long, long time. To spend time with someone who was actually looking out for him, someone who he could joke around with if he just learned to let go a little. It hadn't crossed his mind that being stuck with Shane was more of a blessing than a curse.

Before Ryan could realise it, the stress of the day caught up with him and he drifted slowly off to sleep, anxious about what the future could possibly hold.

#Shyan #mafia au #my work #skeptic believer

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ellebabywrites · 4 years

Text

The Hitman - In Exodus

Type : Oneshot (Part of The In Exodus Series) // Angst // Fluff // Smut // Cartel!au

Warnings : angst, death, cussing

Author Note : This took me far too long and had my anxieties far too high. I’m finally happy with how it turned out and hope you all enjoy it too !! Please give me some feedback because I’ve worked so hard on this chapter..

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀*⋆.*:*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆**･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ.: ⋆*･ﾟ☾

The smell of freshly baked croissants flood the streets, a sign that the Bakery is about to open and the day beginning. Shutters rise and doors open. The busting workers of Exodus bracing for the day ahead; a day of sales to kids who can barely walk straight with the amount of poison saturating their bloodstream; a day of fighting with the guy from down the road who insists that things were ‘cheaper last week’; a day of overworking for much less of a profit than it’s all worth. Living the dream.

The bakery was different though. Something about it felt like home, and everyone treated it as such. It was the only building for miles that wasn’t painted in graffiti, the only business that was doing well for itself, a little slice of goodness in the middle of all that bad.

That’s what everyone thinks anyway.

Across the street, Jongin is watching through the scope of his rifle. Watching the Baker unlock his doors and flip the closed sign to open. He scoffs. Such a poser.

Saying Jongin enjoyed his job would be pushing it; how much enjoyment can one really get from taking a life without being a psychopath? But he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to taking out this one particular man.

He watches the Baker great the first of his customers with a toothy grin, hugging Mrs Jamison when she comes in for her regular morning pastry. If only Mrs Jamison knew all the dirty things that man had been doing with the hand she shakes so willingly.

The town’s beloved Baker wasn’t nearly as squeeky clean as he liked everyone to believe. After hours, he found himself in SUjU territory, hanging out with drug runners, dancing around the subject of Exodus till the haze of alcohol took control, divulging any and all information that might get him another drink.

Pathetic Jongin thinks, noticing how the Baker danced around his customers with such fictitious glee, as if he hadn’t sold them out a hundred times over.

Again, not to say EXO were any better, but surely there should be some sense of town loyalty right? Jongin thinks so; making this particular betrayal all the more infuriating and his death all the more inevitable.

Jongin lines up the crosshairs of his gun against the Baker’s head, having the courtesy to wait for the shop to empty. One. The corner of his lips pull into a smirk, the buildup of adrenaline flooding his veins working as his own personal high. Two. Is it sick to say he can’t wait to kill this guy? Maybe? He deserves it Jongin thinks, afterall, he did try and ruin their business for a few shots of tequila. Thr…

“Hey Joey!”

So close…

“Well this is a surprise! How’re you today darlin’?”

Usually, you would only visit Joey’s bakery at the end of the week, needing some sort of sugary treat to get through the piles of work you had to do; but today your classes were cut short and you were gagging for something with chocolate.

“Our professor had to leave early and a girl needs her goodies!” You joked, leaning against the counter.

Joey had been a staple in Exodus for your entire life, the man was everybody’s uncle, everybody’s friend, you could talk to him about anything and your weekly visits had become a huge part of your routine.

“Good job I’ve got a whole bunch for you to choose from duck,” Joey laughs at how your eyes quickly scan over the trays of baked goods like you were a starving puppy, “Ooo I know what you should pick, I need someone to try out my new brownie recipe!”

Fuck. Joey moved away from Jongin’s line of fire just enough to grab the box of brownies from behind the counter, the perfect shot ruined by a few brownies.

“Well if you made them Joey then I’m sure they’re absolutely delicious!” you coo, giggling at how easily you can make him blush.

Just as you were about to leave and the Baker to return to the firing line, a rush of people came flooding into the small shop, putting a stop to whatever chance Jongin had at completing his mission right now.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Nini groans in frustration, packing up his equipment quickly as to get away unnoticed, “he was right there, I could have had him!” It was frustrating sure, delaying his plans a few more hours before there would be another chance to take out his target; but there would be another chance and Jongin would get the job done. So while the sweet-toothed girl had momentarily saved old Joey’s life, it wouldn’t last much longer.

---

The clock read 11:57pm as you were hunched over on the living room floor, trying to finish this essay that you’d definitely not been putting off for weeks…

“Need ...sugar ...immediately..” you whine, dramatically throwing yourself across the floor to grab the box of brownies Baker Joe had gifted you earlier in the day. Mmnn, indulging yourself in the chocolatey goodness, you decide now is the perfect time for a break, only 6,000 words left to go anyway…

Completely oblivious to the ramifications those few brownies had had on the day for more than one party, you munched away the last of them, licking the crumbs from your fingertips and moaning at the euphoria a simple treat could bring.

‘Breaking news tonight : Beloved Exodus baker found dead. The 56 year old’s body was discovered an hour ago near his home, cause of death is officially named as a GSW through the neck…’

A chill runs up your spine as the news plays quietly from the television. Baker Joe was dead. Someone had killed him! You’re confused and hurt and angry all at once. Why would anyone want to hurt Joey? He was one of the only decent people in this shit-show of a city and now he was gone. Your eyes wander to the now empty box of goodies, the bakery’s logo printed on the front in swirly gold font and you feel the sudden need to cry, so you do.

---

Who did this guy think he was? An MX falcone wandering the streets of Exodus without a care in the world, stealing from the market stalls as he sauntered his way through the crowds. Minhyuk is his name. When Baekhyun had gotten word of their latest visitor, Jongin was immediately sent to take care of it. Honestly what did they think was going to happen? That they could just hang out in Exodus without consequence? That no one would be the least bit suspicious?

“You like the farmers market huh,” Jongin keeps a trained eye on Minhyuk as he moves from stall to stall. There were far too many people around for a direct hit so all he could do was watch and wait for the perfect opportunity.

“Why the fuck are you here?” He mumbled in annoyance, MX were getting far too comfortable for anyone’s liking; it was like the calm before the storm, except the storm was standing right in front of him chatting about produce with Mr Kim.

Suddenly, Minhyuk takes a sharp left, making his way out of the bustling crowd towards the alleys. He’d been made. Fuck. Following as quickly as he could, fighting his way through the sea of people, Jongin tries to keep up.

“Excuse me, I’m trying to get to…”

Minhyuk is fast, but maybe if you weren’t standing in front of him, blocking the way, Jongin would have been able to get him.

He doesn’t immediately recognise you. Your hair is tied differently and you’re wearing a different coat, but once Jongin places you as the girl from the bakery, he’s immediately on guard. Twice now you’ve gotten in the way of a hit. Could it just be a coincidence? Sure Exodus is small, you’re bound to run into the same people more than once. Baker Joe’s was a town staple and the market is always busy, but what are the chances? Jongin tries to side-step passed you, eyes scanning the crowds for Minhyuk, but you move along with him.

Holding out a map in front of him, you try again to ask for directions but Jongin doesn’t have time. He doesn’t have time to entertain the possibility that seeing you again could be anything but a coincidence, not when he’s about to lose yet another target.

“Move!”

You watch in astonishment as he pushes you out of the way before storming off. What an asshole you think; all you needed were directions, a simple no would have sufficed. Then again you’d come to expect nothing more from the people of Exodus. Sighing, you carry on your way alone, soon forgetting about the rude man you had met on the street.

---

8am lectures were the bain of your existence, but Professor Jeong’s class was always worth it.

Armed with a large cup of coffee and a stack of notes to aid you through, you made your way to an empty space near the front of the lecture hall. Biology never came easy to you, but the drive you had to succeed more than made up for it.

“Sorry I’m late guys,” Professor Jeong rushed into the busy hall, his own cup of coffee balancing on a pile of books clutched between his arms, “I got caught up with Professor Lyn, he’s such a ...fungi!”

The room fills with groans and muffled laughs at the attempt of a joke so early in the morning, but the Professor didn’t seem to mind. “Okay I’m sorry, let’s get into today. Can anyone tell me where we left off last week? Y/N?”

From the back of the room Jongin notices you.

“Oh you have to got to be kidding me..”

Once again, you happen to show up right in the middle of a job. There had to be a reason. There was no way this could be a coincidence anymore. Were you following him? Working with MX? Trying to get intel on EXO? Jongin didn’t know, but at this point he didn’t care. You were a problem.

Jeong was another star poser in Exodus. The esteemed environmental science professor, that drew students from across the country just to take his conservational bio class. The hotshot teacher who was already in the running for tenure. The slimy asshole that used his connections in the science world to help EXO’s competitors recreate their patented drug.

This was supposed to be an easy hit, wait till after class and use the pocket knife hidden in his belt to slit the professor’s throat before next period. But now, Jongin had to put those plans on hold so that he could figure out what to do about you.

---

Following you was far easier than Jongin had anticipated, thinking that he’d be kept on his toes trying to avoid getting caught, but you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that someone had been following you, watching your routines and judging them oh so harshly.

He kept his distance at first, observing from afar as you went about your daily activities. But soon enough, Jongin found himself immersed in the story that was your life. On the sidelines, a spectator, keeping mental notes of your behaviours.

Keeping space between you, Jongin follows you down the familiar street. He knows exactly where you’re going, the same place you’ve gone to for lunch every day that week. After your first class of the day you head straight to Lou’s café to grab something to eat and get some studying done. Like clockwork, the only thing to change was your order. Jongin would never admit that he’d grown to enjoy the establishment himself, but it was one of the least tedious moments of the day.

With the sky starting to darken in the cold weather, you fumble around your bag for your wallet amongst the loose scrunchies and old receipts, Jongin scoff in disbelief.

“How have you not been jumped yet?” He mumbled to himself. Before you’ve even walked through the café doors you have your money in hand, out in the open for anyone to take. Jongin had picked up on the blissful ignorance you had in regards to the danger in Exodus, instead, choosing to carry on carefree. Stupid he thinks.

Standing in line a few spots behind you, he watches as you let person after person cut in front and he just doesn’t get it. You only have an hour before the start of your next class and yet you’re willingly letting yourself be pushed back? People were clearly taking advantage of your kindness, but you were either incredibly stupid or didn’t care. When the older woman in front of you is a few dollars short, you don’t hesitate before lending her the difference, even putting back your own drink just so you could afford to help her. How could someone so generous be apart of something so evil? Then again, most of Exodus were playing that game.

Grabbing a coffee of his own, Jongin sits a table over from where you plant yourself, what had become your regular spots. Finding amusement in the way you struggle to fit both of your study books in the small space.

Now, only a short while before you needed to be back in class, you attempt to get as much work done while shoveling food down your throat as you could. Jongin thought it was hilarious, bar the tuna mayo that is. “Tuna? Really? It’s 11am jesus christ!” Maybe it was easy for him to judge you from a distance, but out of all the things he’d learnt, your love of tuna was the worst.

He watches your face scrunch and eyebrows furrow as you try and absorb the information, recognising the same study book you’ve been working on all week, the one for Professor Jeong’s class that you’d been struggling with. The pages covered almost entirely in highlighter with notes and doodles littering the margins. Cute.

You just seem so harmless. No matter how hard he tries Jongin just can’t seem to figure you out. Perhaps MX were blackmailing you? Maybe they had something that forced you to be their spy? It was the only explanation he could think of, because it just didn’t seem plausible that the girl in front of him, furiously editing her notes for the hundredth time that hour, the one with drops of mayonnaise left over on the corner of her lips, could be willingly working with the notorious MX. But you were involved somehow, of that he was sure.

---

The library is quiet, the sound of rustling papers and hushed whispers being the only source of noise. Luckily, it was busier than usual due to the wave of group projects being assigned, it made it easy for Jongin to blend in.

He watches you curiously from behind one of the bookshelves, trying to understand why you haven’t slapped the asshole beside you yet. He’d been cutting you off and putting you down every chance he could.

“I just think if we..”

“Seriously Y/N don’t strain yourself, I think we’ve got it.”

Asshole.

Even Jongin wanted to punch this guy. Being the only girl in the group, the others found it easy to dismiss everything you offered.

“Why doesn’t she say anything?” Jongin wondered, once again you were letting people walk all over you.

It’s not like you particularly enjoyed being treated that way, in fact you were daydreaming about slamming said assholes’ face into the wall at that very moment, but you couldn’t do that. This project defines your grade for the semester and you couldn’t afford that kind of taint on your record. So you bite your tongue. Act none the wiser and count the seconds before you could go home and be done with them all.

Across the library you spot Minho, the cute senior who’d been working as the student librarian for the last month or so. He’s scanning out returns at the desk, eyes glancing up occasionally, you presume to keep an eye on things . God he’s cute. When he spots you staring and then takes a look at the rather heated debate going on between your group, he decides to save you from the disarray, waving you over.

“My hero,” you tease, almost running to where Minho is.

“It was getting too painful to watch! What’s he ranting about this time?” He teases playfully, knowing all too well the constant tension in your study group.

“Ugh I don’t even know, it’s so much easier just to tune him out,”

Jongin’s teeth clench watching the exchange between you and the librarian. The childish giggling, the ‘accidental’ touches, the lingering stares. Disgusting.

“Who even is this guy?” If he didn’t know any better Jongin would think this was jealousy, but he did know better, so all of these unfamiliar feelings had to be from just how pitiful the sight was. This guy was clearly flirting with you, the blush on his cheeks and sweaty palms said as much, but from everything Jongin had learnt, you weren’t going to reciprocate. Tragic.

“Are you kidding me? Why is she twirling her hair like that!? He’s not even her type! He’s... he…” his mumbled ranting cut off by the sound of you laughing across the room. “Well if that is her type then no wonder she’s corrupt.”

He watches the pair of you for a little longer before the need to throw up eventually overtakes his need to stay, deciding he could catch you up later and spare himself the torture of sitting through whatever this was.

---

The open sign light bounces off wet concrete, illuminating your face with such a subtle glow of pink that Jongin could barely make out the streaks of tears running down your cheeks. He almost missed you sitting crouched over on the pavement, the smell of smoke being what made him stop. Why is she crying? He thought to himself, seeing you curled up in a ball, cigarette dangling from your fingertips haphazardly concerned him. Jongin didn’t have to wonder for too long though, the closer he got to you the clearer he could hear your muffled cries.

“Stupid fucking Geord,” you cuss, taking another long drag to calm your anxieties, “takes all my ideas, monopolises the entire presentation and then my contribution isn’t enough!?”

Jongin had come to know the infamous Geord all too well this last week, the pompous ass that had belittled you in the library, the snotty rich kid with mommy issues that just loved being right. Honestly the fact he hadn’t killed him yet was an accomplishment in itself; but still, seeing you clearly so upset gave Jongin a weird feeling.

You were either getting much better with your performance skills, or he was actually getting mad for you…

With each sniffle, each tear drop, Jongin felt his resolve breaking away and being replaced with a type of anger he’d never felt before. Why did he care that you were crying? Why was it affecting him so much? He didn’t know, but it took all his strength not to go find Geord and make him regret whatever he’d done.

As quickly as you put out the cigarette that was now burning short, you’re reaching for the box to light another. You only really smoked when you were feeling particularly stressed, Jongin hated it. Ironically it was the most disgusting thing he’d ever seen; painting the walls with someone’s brain was nothing compared to the strong stench of nicotine that passed your lips.

For a second Jongin lets his mind entertain the thought of approaching you, but the professional side of him reminds him who you were. This could be a trick...She’s not an idiot. Then he considers calling you out. Drawing his gun and putting an end to MX’s game once and for all, besides, he’d been observing you for a week now and he couldn’t afford for his attention to be diverted any more, he still had the good old Professor to end.

Before he gets the chance to do either however, you stand up. Taking one last drag before stomping out the flame, your hands carelessly wipe at your face in a feeble attempt at clearing the remnants of your breakdown.

“I’ll be fine, let’s just go home,” you whisper, more than familiar with putting yourself back together and wanting nothing more than a hot bath and warm bed.

---

When you first noticed that the new guy on campus was following you, you tried not to think too much of it. In all honesty, you were far too busy trying to keep on top of everything to pay much attention as to why you were being followed. Knowing the people in Exodus, you figured it was just his creepy way of flirting, or at the very worst he was planning on robbing you, not that you had much to take anyway. But as the days went by and the presence of your stalker persisted, you were growing frustrated. It’d been a stressful week and the last thing you needed was some guy watching your every move.

After getting the results back from Professor Jeong for your group presentation, you weren’t exactly in a ‘good mood’ and the looming shadow of the man trying to be inconspicuous as he followed you home, was the last straw.

"How much longer are you planning on following me?” You shout over your shoulder, not having the energy to even face him. When you get no response, you reluctantly decide to turn around to stare him down.

His chocolate coloured hair is pushed back exposing his forehead, eyes golden but harbouring so much animosity that they could have turned black, the jacket adorning his shoulders almost blending him into the dark street behind. He was handsome, strikingly so.

“Look dude it’s been a long day, can’t you just lay off the stalking for one night?”

Jongin stiffens at your words. So you did know he was there? And chose now, while you were both alone in a dark street, to confront him? God she’s stupid.

“Sorry Darling, can’t do that,” he insisted, watching how your shoulders slumped and fingers twitched at the side of your coat.

“Of course,” sighing deeply, too tired to argue, you decide to continue on towards your apartment, stalker be damned.

“Aren’t MX getting bored of this game yet?” Jognin calls. He figures if you already knew he was following you, then now would be the perfect time to put an end to it. You were alone after all.

When he sees you freeze at the sound of MX, he takes a tentative step closer, you’re still turned away from him, just a few steps ahead. “I mean, were you really the best they could do? We expected more.” The smirk on his face when you turn to him, wide eyed and lost for words, only grows at your reaction. Gotcha.

“What are you talki..”

“Come on now Darling, we both know what’s going on here.”

“I promise you we do not.” You’ve heard whispers of MX around town, while you didn’t know much, you did know that if this guy thought you were somehow apart of it, then this was a dangerous misunderstanding.

“You have a choice.” Jongin takes another step closer, “You can leave, now, and make sure MX stay out of Exodus for good,” Reaching under his jacket, he grabs the gun that’s been burning through the back of his shirt since you called out to him, “Or I can send them a message myself. Choose.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about!” You tried to keep calm, swallowing the lump forming at the back of your throat. When you spotted the gun being pulled from his coat, it was like a pin dropped and the reality of the situation finally began to sink in.

Exodus is a dangerous place. Exodus is full of dangerous people. You were standing alone with a strange man that you’d just yelled at, that had been following you for god knows how long, a gun pointed at your face and not a soul in sight that would help you.

He doesn’t flinch when you jump back, his smirk doesn’t falter when you start begging for him to listen. In Jongin’s mind, the fact you’d acknowledged his presence at all was enough to prove you were involved.

“Please, please, just listen to me, t-there’s been a mistake, I d-don’t kno…”

“Oh my god shut up!” He yelled over your desperate cries, “It’s over! Done!”

“I don’t know who you think I am, b-but my name is Y/N I grew up a few towns over with my parents, I-I study Conservation Biology at the university because when I was little I saw a film about sea turtles and now I love them.. I...” you read somewhere that telling a killer personal information about yourself would make them less likely to kill you; so, with your hands held up in surrender, you start begging, pleading, letting slip every boring and mediocre fact about yourself in hopes that the handsome stranger will let you live.

Jongin was taken aback to say the least. Never had a target begged for their life quite like this before, but the more you rambled on and the more tears that fell down your cheeks, he couldn’t help it. He believed you.

This is a mistake... Did I mess up here? Fuck! His mind raced to find a way out of this, but his composure was breaking down with each second you plead your case. How could he have gotten things so wrong? Looking at you now; scared and shaking, there was no way you could be with MX. Jongin’s mind quickly looks back on all the time he’d been watching you, at school, at the library, with friends, home alone... Is it possible he let feelings cloud his judgment? No… Jongin didn’t have feelings.

Bang.

In a split second the air was slashed with bullets, plastering the wall behind you with open wounds. Your body drops to the floor, hands covering your ears like a scared child at a fireworks display, your screams piercing through the air.

Jongin doesn’t even think about it before he’s at your side. He fires back some warning shots, just enough to cover the pair of you so he could pull you out of there, but you were frozen in place.

“C’mon we need to get out of here! I can’t get a clear shot!”

Jongin hoisted your trembling body into his arms, waiting for a gap in the bullet wave before rushing out of the street. Weaving between the crumbling buildings, waiting in the shadows for a free moment to sprint out of there to a nearby underpass. It was sheltered and open, meaning Jongin could keep a solid eye on the surroundings while still keeping you safe while he let himself freak out a little.

As soon as he puts you on the ground you melt into the concrete, hugging your knees to your chest and crying into them silently. It’s all too much. How did this happen? Yesterday you were failing Bio and trying to avoid the creeper puppy boy that’d been following you. Now…. you were pretty sure you were going to die tonight.

“Fuck...fuck..fuck, fuck, FUCK!” Jongin paces back and forth, using the barrel of his gun to scratch away the headache slowly spreading across his temples. How could he have messed up this badly? He’s the best… at least... he was the best.

With every footstep he takes you flinch a little, hyper aware of the gun swinging from his hand, fingertip dancing along the trigger. You still don’t know who he is or why you’re there but you’ve seen enough to know to keep quiet. So you stay sitting on the ground, letting the tears melt into the fabric of your jeans, watching the state of panic escalate in the man in front of you while your own turned into something akin to resentment.

After almost half an hour of silently waiting for some sort of direction, you’ve had enough. Eventually Jongin had stopped pacing, choosing to lean up against the wall with head in hands, instead. In your mind, you have nothing to do with this. There is nothing connecting you to whatever chaos was happening here. You had no reason to wait around to get shot.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?!” He shouts, annoyance bubbling beneath his skin.

“Home.”

“You can’t!” Pushing himself off the wall, Jongin reaches for your arm in an attempt to keep you still. You try to shake him off but his grip is too strong.

“I DIDN’T ASK FOR ANY OF THIS!” You’re screaming at him now. Tears no longer from fear, but anger. You feel trapped in whatever this was and it wasn’t fair, you just want to go home.

“Yeah well tough shit Darling, because unfortunately you’re my responsibility now and it’s my job to make sure you don’t get yourself killed!”

“I can take care of myself! I’ve been doing it long enough!” He rolls his eyes at your response, growing tired of trying to be the good guy for once. “Let me go! I’ll be just fine! Like always!”

Finally loosening the grip on your arm, Jongin let’s you storm off. Waiting, only out of spite, for you to be out of ear shot before cussing out loud at himself.

---

Somehow you managed to drag yourself to class. The events of last night still burning fresh at the back of your mind, but you were desperate enough for a distraction that even Professor Jeong’s morning class was worth that extra effort.

Barely able to keep your eyes open with the little sleep you were actually able to get, it takes you a moment to recognise the familiar body that plants themselves in the desk next to yours.

Jongin doesn’t look at you. Maybe it’s pride, maybe it’s nerves, but he keeps his eyes trained on the professor’s desk up front, waiting for his cover to be inevitably blown all for the sake of keeping you safe.

“Good morning class!” The professor’s abrupt entrance pulls your shocked and frustrated gaze from burning holes in the side of Jongin’s neck. His tan skin glowing under the plain white tee he’s wearing, hair falling into his eyes softly, contradicting the hard image he’d worn the night before. Does he have his gun with him? You wonder, letting your eyes wander to the waistband of his jeans, remembering how he’d pulled the weapon from them the night before. Stop! You hope he doesn’t realise you’ve been blankly staring at his crotch, mind racing with questions, you don’t even know his name.

“Today we’re picking up the remaining presentati…” When the admirable Professor meets eyes with Jongin, smirking from his seat beside you knowingly, he loses all train of thought.

It’s a feeling Jongin had missed. When a mark knows they’re done for, that he’s coming for them. When their eyes double in size. When fear pales their skin. When they lose all hope of fucking over EXO and getting away with it.

“T-today..um…” You can see the Professor eyeing your seat partner nervously, stuttering over his words. You’d never seen Jeong like this before, he looked terrified, and after last night it didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

Jongin shifts in his seat, enjoying the effect his presence has on the esteemed scholar. While Jeong tries to regain some semblance of decorum, Jongin wraps one of his arms around your shoulders and squeezes tightly, keeping eye contact with the professor, claiming you.

“What are you doing?” keeping your voice low as to not draw anymore attention to you both, you try to push Jongin’s arm away from you, only for him to put it right back.

“My job. Now be quiet.” He hisses, hiding the harshness of his voice behind a sickly sweet smile.

Professor Jeong spends the entire lecture avoiding your side of the room, refusing to make eye contact, completely ignoring you. You try not to take it personally of course, it’s definitely not because of something you did, that you know for sure; but for once you actually know the answers to some of these questions and want to participate.

“I told you, I can take care of myself!” you grumbled, again trying to physically get Jongin away from you, but he just smirks. Like he was enjoying it. Like this was all just some big game and not the life threatening situation he’d made it out to be the night before.

And you would probably believe that were true, if it wasn’t for his nails digging so sharply into your shoulder.

By the time class finishes you want to run a million miles away. The pressure of Jongin’s arm around your neck you’re sure will leave you aching for days; but as long as he’s far away from you, you can deal with it. You all but sprint out of the lecture hall, forgetting all about your next class and heading straight home; taking a back street you hope he hadn’t seen you use before.

“What the hell is this?” You mumble to yourself, pushing down the fear as far as you can in hopes the empty space will leave room for answers. You’re so caught up in your head, trying to figure out what you did to deserve this, you don’t even realise that Jongin’s been on your tail the whole time, watching you freak out and creep around like the amateur he now knows you are. It’s not until he steps into your building’s elevator with you that you realize he’s there.

“Jesus! Fuck, can’t you leave me alone!” He was exhausting; flattering when you thought it was a puppy crush, less so now you know he wanted to kill you.

“I can’t,” Jongin leans against the side of the elevator, growing tired of the chase.

“Why?! You’re the only one stalking me here!”

“Oh Darling, you have no idea.”

“Then explain! Because I’m tired of this! I have work to do, classes to study for, and I can’t when you’re scaring my teachers and dragging me through shoot outs!!”

Jongin understands why you’re annoyed. He gets it, he messed up and now you’re in danger. But to admit that outloud… to admit that to you… he’d rather not.

He doesn’t give you an answer, finding his reflection in the steel doors far more interesting, chewing the inside of his cheek and fixing his jacket over and over.

When you finally reach your floor, it becomes a race of wills to get to your apartment. Jongin trying to force his way in; you trying to lock him out. You sprint for the door, key in hand; almost managing to slam it shut in his face before Jongin’s hand pushes it back open, forcing himself through the small gap and locking you both inside.

In a second he’s slamming your back against the door with his hand covering your mouth, keeping you in place with the weight of his body, trying to work up the nerve to finally tell you the truth.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but you need to listen to me just for one fucking second… My name is Jongin, okay?” he asks, face dangerously close to your own. You manage a weak nod under his hold, terrified but needing answers.

“I made a mistake. I...I thought you were working with MX,”

Your eyes widen at the second mentioning of the infamous gang, more confused than ever as to why he thought you would ever be involved with them. He didn’t even know you.

“There’s rumours they’re coming for EXO territory..”

He’s with EXO. The realisation floods through your body like a lightning strike, frying your nerves, limbs locked in place while the rest of your body falls limp into his arms. EXO. The kings of this city. The reason shops close early and children aren’t allowed out after 9. The doctors responsible for prescribing the death, the destruction, of a city once so healthy and vibrant. Monsters, as far as you’re concerned.

“They must have seen me tailing you and after last night, I think you’re a target.” Jongin watches as your eyes well up with tears, red and swollen as you choke back the sobs you so obviously want to release. It doesn’t affect him… it doesn’t make him angry… he doesn’t want to wrap you in a hug and take it all back… right?

“So as much as you don’t like it, I’m here. I messed up so I need to fix it, because this isn’t a game and this isn’t a joke. If they think you’re with us they will kill you. Milk carton kids, where are they now, 27 club dead.”

You wish he was a better actor. That he could hide the shame, guilt, pain he feels for putting you in this position better. That the cold exterior he wears so well didn’t have quite as many cracks, because then maybe you could tell yourself that everything was going to be okay. But if Jongin looks scared, then you’re absolutely terrified.

Blinded by the fear, your body reacts before your mind can catch up. Fists pounding into his chest weakly as the sound of your sobs rip into his heart. You’re in hysterics, screaming at him for an answer to questions still lodged at the back of your throat. Jongin doesn’t break down with you, as much as his body tries. Instead he just grabs your wrists, stopping their assault and pinning them into his embrace. His hold the only thing keeping you standing as you finally let the last walls crumble, letting out every tear, every scream, every desperate cry for it all to be some twisted dream.

Jongin doesn’t know how you both ended up on the floor, your head buried between your knees as his hand finds itself brushing through your hair. Somehow you manage to calm yourself down, letting the sobs turn to whimpers and cries to sniffles. Finally numb after the dust settles in your mind, you force yourself to look back up at Jongin. He looks how you feel, just doing a better job at hiding it; you don’t miss the concern that washes over his face and maybe that’s why you decide to let him stay. If he was so determined to fix what he’d done, you weren’t going to stop him. At least not tonight.

“I need to sleep,” you say weakly, standing on shaky legs but brushing off Jongin’s worried hands when he tries to help, “you can stay on the couch.”

---

Tiptoeing across the living room, shoelaces dangling from your teeth while your hands clutch onto your books; you’re desperately trying not to wake a sleeping Jongin. His sprawled out body half falling from the couch, you admit he looks a lot cuter when he’s sleeping.

Before you can stop it, one of your shoes drops from between your teeth, making Jongin jump up at the sound.

“What are you doing?” he mumbled, rubbing the fatigue from his face, stretching back into his familiar hard persona.

“Uhh, going for breakfast?”

“Did you not hear me last night!” It didn’t sound like a question. His voice raising ever so slightly in frustration as he stands to tower over you. Failing miserably at being as intimidating as usual, with his hair a mess and cheeks puffy.

“I heard you,” you say, pushing your feet into the fallen shoes before giving him a chance to stop you, “I’m just not going to hide away like a victim when this is your mess.” He stiffens at your words, ignoring the cut they etch into his heart, instead focusing on your relentless stubbornness in such a risky situation.

“If they catch you out alone they won’t miss another shot!” Jongin clenches his jaw when you roll your eyes at his remark, unsure of what he can do to change your mind.

“Look if you’re so worried, you’re more than welcome to join me,” you offer, determination radiating off of your face in such a way that Jongin finds himself unable to argue.

---

For the next few days Jongin stays by your side, sleeping on your couch, going to breakfasts, your classes, all to make sure you were safe.

He walks the familiar routes around town with you, not from a few paces back this time, but shoulder to shoulder. Sitting beside you in Professor Jeong’s early morning classes, Jongin was having far too much fun watching the colour drain from his face each time he showed up to one of your lectures to kill him just yet.

Everything became a threat to your safety. As far as Jongin was concerned, your life was in danger and MX could strike at any moment…. Even if it had been quiet since the shooting… it was better to be safe. That’s what Jongin told himself everytime he stayed a little longer.

“Hey Y/N!” Minho waved at you from across the library, he was reshelving returns when he spotted you studying at your usual table.

Jongin felt his ears burn red at the sight. Jaw clenching when he sees the boy walk over. Eyes narrow in judgment when you return his warm smile.

“Hey Minho, how are you?” It’d been a few days since you’d last had the chance to talk with Minho, him still as handsome as ever, but your heart not jumping quite so high at the interaction.

“I’m good, are you? I’ve missed seeing you around lately..” Minho let’s his words fade noticing the glare he was getting from the man sat beside you. “Oh I’m sorry, I’m Minho, Y/N’s friend!”

Jongin glances at Minho’s outstretched hand between them, choosing to throw his own over your shoulder rather than shake it.

“I’m Kai, Y/N’s boyfriend.” He smirks at the shocked expression that Minho wears, ignoring your startled one in favour of silently challenging the boy to leave.

“Oh...oh uh… Nice to meet you, I’ll see you guys around..”

Jongin keeps you close till he’s sure Minho has gone, only loosening his grip when he feels you nudge him gently.

“What the fuck was that, Kai?” You’re more amused than angry, but you’d never let him know that, enjoying seeing the varied emotions you can bring out of him now, when he was supposed to be a stone cold killer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” feigning innocence, Jongin tries to go back to reading the book he’d randomly grabbed from the pile in front of you both.

You scoff at his reaction, or lack thereof, staring at him quizzically till he finally gave in.

“That guy is sketchy! I’m here to protect you right? So I’m protecting you. Good?”

“Minho is not sketchy,” you giggle and Jongin can’t help but smile at the sound, “and who is Kai?”

“It’s what my friends call me!”

---

“Hey!” Jongin had appeared out of nowhere, pulling the cigarette from between your lips and stomping it out. With Geord goading you relentlessly for the last hour of class, you were desperate for a smoke. You would argue that those little white sticks of bliss were the only thing keeping you from ripping his throat out.

“It’s disgusting,” he says, leaning down to your height so he could look you in the eye, “why do you do this?”

With a deep sigh, you stuff the near empty packet of unlit cigarettes back into your coat pocket, storming away in frustration, knowing he’d follow you.

“Wait, I’m serious!”

“I like them!” you shout back, thankful the streets were empty so you could argue in peace.

“They’re bad for you you know!” he teases, laughing when you throw your middle finger up behind you.

“My cigarettes are better for me than you are!” Teasing back, you finally turn to face him, a cheeky smile on your face.

---

“We got him.”

While making dinner for the pair of you, Jongin’s phone buzzes on the counter, a string of messages coming in from someone called Minseok. You tried not to be nosey, sitting on the counter beside him while he cooked, but he didn’t even glance at it.

“Wasn’t MX. Some small town nobody trying to prove himself.”

“Jongin”

“Call me when you get this”

“Boss wants you back asap”

The thought of Jongin leaving had never even crossed your mind till then. It hadn’t been that long at all, but it felt like an eternity since he’d first come into your life. Maybe it was selfish to want him to stay.

Jongin had recently started to open up to you more about his work with EXO. He was their protector, he kept them safe. You didn’t see him as this dangerous monster anymore, he was just Jongin, Kai, the one who took care of things. Just like he’d been taking care of you all this time.

You knew deep down that when he left you’d probably never see him again; if what EXO suspects is true and MX really were making their way into Exodus, then there was a storm coming and Jongin would be right in the middle of it. He wouldn’t risk getting you anymore tangled in EXO’s mess.

“Here, try this,” Jongin held a spoon up to your mouth expectantly; pretending he didn’t see Minseok’s messages, pretending you didn’t see them either, holding on to this reality for just a little longer.

---

“We need you back Jongin,”

After ignoring Minseok’s messages a few days ago, Jongin couldn’t ignore another call from the boss.

“Jun I have to pr..”

“No you don’t! We took care of the shooter, the girl will be fine! EXO needs you, I need you!”

He doesn’t want to leave. Jongin doesn’t know what it is that makes him want to stay near you, keep you safe, go to breakfasts at Lou’s - but the thought of leaving it all behind makes his heart twist and turn in unimaginable ways.

His whole life had been about EXO. They’re his friends, his family, and he would never abandon them. But somehow he’s made a new home with you, in his heart at least. You feel like home. Sitting on your living room floor watching Blue Planet feels like home. Falling asleep on your shoulder in the middle of your lectures feels like home. EXO have been his entire identity for so long, but now there’s this other life, another door, and Jongin was finding hard to resist stepping through.

“Be back today. We have work to do.”

After Junmyeon’s orders, the frustration coursed through Jongin’s body with such force he hadn’t even realised he’d thrown the phone till you were beside him, asking what was wrong.

“I...I have to leave.” He couldn’t look you in the eye. He didn’t want to see the betrayal, the disappointment, the pain reflected in them. “It’s my fault you’re in danger and now I have to leave you…”

He doesn’t know that you know.

“I..I’ll be okay Nini.. I can look after myself remember?” Your voice is weak but you do your best to convince him; as much as you want him to stay you know that’s not an option, and you know he knows it too because he can barely look at you right now.

“Y/N… I don’t want to leave..”

It broke your heart but there was no other choice. You had to let him go. The boy you’d tried so hard to avoid just a few weeks ago, you now didn’t want to see go.

“I know..” You cup the side of his face, forcing him to look at you as you spoke, “but they need you Nini...” It was hard to keep how you were really feeling hidden, especially when he looked like he was about to break, “You’re the best Nini, they deserve the best.”

He knew you were right. He needed to be there for EXO, his family. Things in Exodus were about to get a lot messier and the fallout would be astronomical, if he wasn’t there to do his part there’s no telling what could happen, then you really would be in danger.

Leaning into your touch, Jongin grips onto your hips like it was the first time not the last, pulling you flush against his body. Memorizing the shape of your hips, touch of your skin, smell of your shampoo. Locking you inside his heart. Melding the memory of you into his soul so that this wouldn’t be the last time. He would forever be with you and you would always be there for him, long after he’s gone.

Looking at you would be too much, he might not be able to force himself away if he saw your eyes. Saying goodbye felt too final, like the end of something that never really was. Instead Jongin buried your head into his shaking chest, placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, pretending he can’t feel your tears soaking through his shirt, before turning away and walking out of your life forever.

#in exodus #the hitman #in exodus the hitman #exo #exo au #exo imagine #exo fanfic #exo fic #exo reation #exo scenario #kim jongin #jongin scenarios #jongin reaction #jongin imagine #jongin fic #jongin au #exo kai #exo jongin au #exo kai au

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sickkillerzach · 4 years

Text

All Good Things Must Come To An End

A Modern Family Fanfic

It was 9:30 PM on a Wednesday. Gloria was just sitting on the couch watching TV with Jay. Life was normal; life was great. The TV had football on.

"Let's Go! C'mon!" Jay yelled while crushing the can of beer he had in his hand. The beer went flying all over the room.

"Goddamnit, why cant you just kick it correctly, you dumb motherfucker!" He profanely exclaimed.

"Jay, quiet it down a little, Joe is sleeping," Gloria told him.

The game was at 15-25. She could tell Jay was starting to get very angry quickly. She decided to get something from the fridge.

I might have to get something alcoholic myself if he doesn't stop shouting, Gloria thought.

Later that night, after all the drama with the football game, Jay fell asleep on the couch.

Finally, some time to myself, Gloria thought to herself.

She went upstairs to the bedroom, and grabbed the book she was in the middle of reading. It was Percy Jackson: The Sea of Monsters. As she started to read it, she also started to drift off to sleep. The book, falling out of her hands, dropped to the floor, closing itself up.

The next morning, she awoke to Jay shouting outside.

"C'mon...start, motherfucker!"

Gloria looked out the bedroom window, seeing him attempting to start the car.

"Why don't you just START?!" He quickly got angry.

"He really needs to stop getting as angry as he is; at his age, he might start developing high blood pressure," she said to herself quietly.

She went to the bathroom, and then walked outside to go assist her husband.

"Jay, what's the matter?"

"This car won't just FUCKING START!" He screamed so loud, Gloria could hear the echo in the sky.

"What can I do to help?" Gloria asked.

"There's nothing you can do. I just need you to call Mitch and Cam."

"They're out of town for the week" she told him.

"Oh, that's right. Well, why don't you call Phil; he's good at this kind of stuff," he responded.

Oh boy, the Dunphy's, she thought to herself. That family REALLY doesn't like me. It's bad enough Mitch and Cam think I'm a psychopath, but this family really doesn't like me... but it's for Jay.

As she walked to the landline nervously, she dialed the number. No response.

As she walked towards Jay, he immediately followed up with, "What'd they say?"

"They didn't pick up the phone,"

"Oh, of course, the time I need them most," Jay responded with a rather angry tone.

Later that afternoon, she tried to call again. Still nothing.

What the hell is going on? Gloria thought.

She was getting quite worried. But why? Her and the Dunphy's hate each other. Why would she be worried about them? Is it because of Jay? She was both confused and concerned. She dialed again. And again. And again.

"Gloria, they're not gonna answer, so just stop dialing," Jay called to her.

She didn't respond to him, and instead, turned the other way. She kept hearing something inside of her... a voice telling her, "Get your gun and get the fuck to their house."

She then went up the stairs and got the gun. She was equipped with a p99 with a bunch of magazines in her purse.

"Gloria, what the fuck is all this?" Jay asked, sounding very shocked.

"I gotta check on them. It's been six hours: something is obviously terribly wrong," she replied.

"But you don't even like each other!" He said.

She didn't have a response to that. Instead, she walked out the door. She called a taxi and told the driver the address, hiding all the ammo and the gun in her purse. When she got to the Dunphy's house, she made sure the driver went away, and then started looking through the window.

Nobody was home.

"Well, that explains everything," she said to herself.

She was startled by a scream.

"No, stop! LET ME GO, GODDAMNIT!"

It sounded like it came from a female, but she knew that some males sounded feminine. She started to notice that the door was barricaded shut.

Why would they do that? She asked in her head.

Jay started to call her phone. She declined the call and put her cell phone on silent. The voice that told her to pick up the gun came back to tell her to try to get into the house.

She attempted to bust open the door, but nothing happened. She tried the window. It eventually cracked open. She started to crawl in. She was worried that Claire, or someone else, was going to walk out with a shotgun and kill her, but nonetheless, her curiosity won against her worries and fears.

She started to approach the stairs, with her gun in her hand.

"Gloria, what are you doing here?" A young girl's voice spoke up from behind her.

Gloria turned quickly, panicking silently. She couldn't believe her eyes!

It was Haley.

Gloria hated her. She was the most selfish person she ever had the displeasure to meet.

"Oh, I just... uh-" she stuttered.

"Oh, you're here to help me kill my mom, aren't you? Oh, good! You're just the person I need for this," Haley said eagerly.

Gloria immediately knew all her bad feelings were correct, and she needed to play along in order for everyone, or at least, mostly everyone, to survive.

"Oh, yeah that's exactly what I came for!" Gloria replied nervously. She couldn't believe this was the truth as to why nobody answered the phone.

"Well, come on, she's right down here!"

Haley led Gloria to the basement. She saw Claire tied up, and she was absolutely horrified with her step-grandaughter. Claire was wrapped in rope and screamed under the piece of tape keeping her mouth shut.

"Gloria! Oh my God, what the fuck are you doing here?!" Claire cried. But to Gloria it only sounded like, "Mphm mphm!"

"This is exactly what you wanted, right Gloria? Your arch nemesis tied up, and we're gonna kill her... together!"

Gloria responded with, "Why exactly are you doing this?" Her accent faded out, as her voice cracked and she shook in fear and horror.

"Well, two things: One, I need to harvest her kidneys for money so me and Dylan can get some goods, and I thought while I'm in the process of getting them, I might as well harvest the kidneys of someone my best friend hates! This is all you ever wanted, right?"

Gloria hated the fact she said that.

"No," she responded quietly.

"No? But this is your enemy we're talking about here!" Haley responded.

"Y'know, just because Claire and I do not get along, does NOT mean I would EVER want this!" She shouted back, her accent kicking back in. "And for you to say we're 'best friends...'" She put up air quotes at the end of the sentence. "It sickens me who you are, Haley Dunphy."

"But we're best friends... you told me that!" Haley said, very shocked and hurt.

"Well I LIED. I was only using you for my benefit. You are the most selfish person I have ever met! I would never be friends with someone like you."

Haley, seeming very surprised, pulled put her 12 gauge and aimed it at her mother.

"Oh, is that so? Well, guess your so called best buddy is gonna have to go then, along with you."

Gloria pulled out the gun she brought with her. "I dont think so. That's not going to happen."

As Gloria aimed the handgun, with her heart pounding right up against her chest, she prepared to pull the pull the trigger. She couldn't believe what she was gonna do. She was going to kill a member of her family! But she knew it was necessary. It's for the safety of the rest of her family. It must be done.

Is this the right thing to do? She thought.

"Oh, nice Gloria! First you betray me, then you do this? You're a real good person, aren't you? You get to break into this house and wave your gun around, huh? Drop the goddamn gun!" Haley shouted out.

Haley aimed her gun right at Claire's temple. Gloria put down the gun as a last resort to make sure she didn't get Claire killed.

"That's right. Now, get on your knees, now." Haley said, more calm.

She aimed the 12 gauge at Gloria's chest now, preparing to shoot.

"Well Gloria, it could've been Claire only, but now its gotta be the both of you," Haley said. "This wouldn't have happened if you just minded your own damn business."

"Claire's safety IS my business," Gloria shot back.

Haley chuckled. "But yet you hate that woman, and you CARE about her? Now that's just hilarious."

Gloria noticed how Claire looked concerned about Gloria. "I don't hate her; she hates me. She thinks what I do is bad, and that is debatable. But even after all this, even though I've tried to get back at her, I would NEVER want this to happen."

"Well, isn't that just touching... but that doesn't change a thing..." Haley leaned the shotgun further into her step-grandmother's chest. Gloria's heart was pounding so hard, Haley could feel the vibration coming from the shotgun barrel...

An idea occured to Gloria.

"Look over there!" She cried, pointing to a corner of the room.

"What?" Haley turned to look.

Taking advantage of her destraction, Gloria knocked the shotgun out of her hands and threw a series of punches at Haley, disarming her completely. She crawled to the shotgun, her hands just on it... but Gloria had just grabbed her P99 and pulled the trigger at Haley's head.

She was dead.

Claire screamed under the tape. Gloria untied her and ripped the tape off her mouth.

"Claire, I'm so sorry you had to witness that. You shouldn't have had to witness your daughter die in front of your eyes, but you're safe now," Gloria said sympathetically. She then gave Claire a big hug. "I know you hate me, but I would never ask for this."

"No, I don't hate you Gloria..." Claire managed to say with a shaky voice. "I understand your point of view now. You're not a gold digger... you're just a mother trying to protect your kids and family. And the fact you saved my life proved that to me... thank you..." After these words left her mouth, she was left shaking and crying.

"We'll call Phil, Alex, and Luke, tell them everything, and then we'll call the police. The four of you can stay with us." Gloria said softly.

Claire nodded, and the two walked up the stairs holding onto each other.

#modern family #fandom #fanfic

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the-innefable-idiot · 4 years

Text

welcome home

Hello yall!!!

This is my 3k fic based on the fic "another part of me could be you" by @spaceskam. I honestly don't know how to classify this, but you can consider a homage (?) to her work.

This pretty much a fanfic of a fanfic... yeah. I know.

Every feedback is welcome, both for plot/characterization and grammar/ponctuation. English is not my first language, so I usually right phrases that only make perfect sense to me. I want your reading to be as enjoyable as possible! :D

Please, enjoy!

Also on AO3.

Oh, I hope someday I'll make it out of here

Even if it takes all night or a hundred years

Need a place to hide, but I can't find one near

Wanna feel alive, outside I can fight my fear

(Lovely, Billie Eilish feat. Khalid)

Michael almost looses Alex for the second time, and now je realises it's time for him to get his act together. He just wasn't expecting all the love and support he got.

Home is a concept that Michael never quite understood. Sure, he lived in many houses, but the goodbyes were never emotional. He knows that home is not the structure, but the feelings attached to some place, something or someone. Whenever he thought of home, blurred memories from outer space came to mind. The feeling of belonging was strong, even if he couldn’t attach an image to it.

Michael used to spend hours fantasizing on how to turn a house into a home. A collection of mugs nicely displayed in the dining room. Vinyls and cds on one shelf and books on another, with a nice record player nearby. Some musical instruments considered weird by western standards. The walls covered with pictures of people and places he loved alongside posters of movies and bands he enjoyed. Had he grown up in a nice home, he would probably have been those kids with a camera in hand at all times, capturing moments around him.

Once he knew he was so, but so close to understand the meaning of home. He was thinking about buying a camera literally moments before his hand was shattered by a psychopath. Since then he swore to never raise his hopes. The day drinking and the bar fighting were the ways he made sure to never expect anything from anyone. Alex symbolized everything he wanted to have, but couldn’t, so he was determined to go for a simpler route.

With Maria things were nice. A little bit more complicated than he expected, but still nice. Sure, she wouldn't be moving to the airstream anytime soon, but the relationship was nice. Her place has a few of his things: a toothbrush, a few pieces of clothing neatly folded in one corner of a drawer, a few bottles of beer and whiskey, a handful of books and even some mechanical tools he forgot to take back to his place. Michael never enjoyed making Maria to spend the night at the airstream, first because the overall place was tiny and uncomfortable, and second because her house had the whole atmosphere he dreamt about.

It was clear the effort they were putting into the relationship. Maybe a bit too much of an effort, some might say. As the time passed, everyone close to them noticed how the smiles between them stopped reaching their eyes. Michael would never admit it, but Alex being kidnapped only sped up the inevitable.

Michael knew something bad happened before Forrest came to him in the middle of a panic attack. He had this prickling feeling on his neck that something was just not right since he opened his eyes that morning. Now he was gripping the steering wheel of his truck and focusing on not letting his powers break something. The adrenalin rush being the only thing keeping him from having a mental breakdown. Actually, filling in Forrest with the whole alien thing was a great distraction because of the many details and intricate history he had to cover. Maybe Forrest noticed it and kept asking questions to ground Michael to the task at hand. Maybe Michael will find a way to subtly thank him later for that. Just maybe.

After finding a path of bodies that lead to a bleeding Alex on the floor, Michael felt like breathing for the first time that day. The relief was short, however, and the moment he saw the deadly wound (gun? Knife? Oh God it was bad) he knew what he should do. Forrest was holding an unconscious Alex on his arms. Somehow he managed to tear apart the bloodied shirt to ease the access to the wound (thanks Forrest, again). Michael's healing powers were shit, and he knew he wouldn't be able to heal Alex completely, but damn him if he weren't going to die trying.

The last thing he clearly remembers is the glow on his hands. He has flashes of walking to the car and drinking acetone. He was 75% sure he didn't hallucinate Kyle being there to check up on Alex. Did Alex really ask to sleep by his side? Was Forrest still there? Who knew? Definitely not him.

The next day Michael woke up at noon, still not sure if he was indeed in bed with those two guys or if it was just his brain revenging him after almost melting it the night before. Alex was still too drugged up for Michael to feel anything concrete from the handprint, but only the fact everyone was breathing was enough to calm him down.

This moment of silence between the three of them only gave Michael the reassurance to set things right with Maria. He couldn't keep marinating her in a below-average relationship just so he could prove a point. Maria deserved more than he could give her.

-------

The break-up was... complex. He could see jealousy and suspicion in her body language, and nothing Michael said changed that. Deep down she always new the possibility of Michael going back to Alex, but she was willing to try anyway. She was making an effort not to be too angry, after all she knew her friend had a past with the cowboy but still wanted to try a relationship. She avoided Alex for a while, scared for his reaction, but when the confrontation happened, she was met with nothing but understanding. She’ll never know how Alex could be so calm back then, because right now this fucking hurt and she wanted to punch something.

Moments before he left, Maria stopped him, asking him the one thing he didn't want to answer.

"Why are you choosing him now, Michael?" She asked while putting too much force on drying a cup of glass. "The other day he was stabbed, and you stayed for me. So, what changed? Definitely not Alex almost dying"

"I don't... know." He hesitated. Who was he kidding, this was their break-up and she deserved the truth, even if it meant not crossing her path ever again. "I think that nothing changed, actually. I really believed we had a chance at being happy together, you and I, and I was willing to try. I was so focused on choosing you over him every time that in that morning it was more of an autopilot choice. I didn't follow my heart because I’ve programmed myself to choose you." He could feel his voice cracking. The words were too painful even to him, but once he started he couldn't stop.

"God, Michael" she put the glass down hard, the only reason for not breaking being its thickness. "I am angry, and sad, and I don't want to see you for a while, but..." she looked at him, her voice going a bit soft for her next words "what we had was exhausting. I've been trying to pinpoint the moment where we turned the relationship into an obligation. Now I see it’s been like this since the beginning, but we couldn’t keep the act for too long."

"I'm sorry, Deluca."

"I'm sorry too." She turned her back on him to organize the bottles on the shelf. "Just... stay away for a while, yes? I need to clear my head."

Michael tipped his cowboy hat and left without saying a word. Mixed with the sadness was a sense of relief. Now Deluca was free from him, free to search for someone who will wholeheartedly love her the way she deserved. He didn’t regret being with her, they took a shot and failed, but that’s life. At least they know they tried. His regret was on his actions. Maybe if he’d been more honest since the beginning, the end would’ve been different.

-------

Alex was still asleep when Michael came back to the cabin. The handprint feeling was still fuzzy, so good thing Alex didn't feel all the whirlwind of emotions from the conversation with Maria. Michael had to drive around for a few hours after leaving the Wild Pony just to clear his head. The first thing he noticed when entering the cabin was Forrest in the kitchen, probably cooking something for Alex.

"Alex said, and I quote, you like your coffee like you like your men and women: strong and sweet. Is that right?" Forrest asked without taking his eyes from the stove. "I’m cooking everyone’s favourite because... well... because I can, but also because we deserve it. Alex and I ate half an hour ago, but gimme five minutes and your food will be ready."

Michal was shocked. One thing was Alex telling Forrest what Michael liked to eat and drink, another thing was for Forrest to get out of his way to just cook it. Why would he do that, specially considering he was the ex in the equation?

"Michael, I barely know you and I can almost feel you overthinking this. Before Alex went back to take a nap he told me you were getting near the cabin and that I should start cooking. Which reminded me, later you both must explain the whole handprint thing for me. I’m still digesting the whole alien superpower thing, but I want to know more" Michael could hear Forrest's smile in his voice. Forrest was relieved and comfortable so his entire body acted like it.

"Michael. Sit."

And he sat on the table without thinking twice. Sure, the warmth he was feeling towards Forrest was 100% from Alex because of the handprint, but damn this pocket-size historian for making it way too easy to like him.

Forrest put the meal on the table and sat near him. Michael only realised he was starving the moment he took the first bite, and in less than 10 minutes all the food was gone. The coffee was in a nice mug with the Slipknot logo on it, probably Forrest’s, because he knew Alex inclined towards the more emo bands.

As he rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher, Forrest sat on the couch. Michael knew he should leave and let Forrest take care of Alex, but he ended up sitting by the historian's side. He simply didn't want to go.

"Michael..." Forrest started, with his voice soft and his eyes even softer. "You are probably confused by your feelings because of the handprint. Right now you are feeling what Alex feels, so we can only have this full conversation once you are out of Alex's system."

Michael had to take a sip of his coffee just to do something with his hands. In his mind he was bracing himself for the final blow that would destroy him. Forrest was going to order him to leave them alone and never go back.

"Alex told me about your history, and I am so sorry for all the trauma you went through, and I am not saying only your hand.”

Oh, so Forrest knew about that.

“The three of us... we grew up thinking that love and pain are intertwined, you can only love something if you suffer for it." Forrest grabbed Michael's hands, forcing Michael to keep eye contact. "It took me and Alex years and a literal war to understand that love is not painful. It’s hard to believe, both at home or in a battlefield, and even to this day I wake up with doubts.” He paused, taking a deep breath. Michael could see Forrest tensing up, an indication that the next words were hard for him to say out loud.

“Maybe my family is right and being gay is a punishment, and I deserve to be loveless and miserable for the rest of my life. When you hear you’re not worthy enough times, you start believing in it. Some days nothing, and I mean nothing, can change my mind."

Forrest noticed Michael was getting uncomfortable, and let go of his hands. Both took a sip of their drinks before Forrest sighed, and Michael could see the sadness behind his eyes. A sadness he knew all too well, one that everyone carries but few could hide well. It was a sadness that put doubt in people's heart and turned their self-worth into smoke. Michael wanted to hold Forrest and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but it was probably Alex' influence.

"Alex told me you grew up in the system, the next family worse than the last. I’ve worked with endangered youth, kids with similar stories, and I know how ugly it can get.”

Michael tensed up even more, a reflex that Forrest mistook for annoyance or anger. Michael tried his best to relax, to show Forrest it wasn’t him. It was an unconscious reaction from years of abuse. The historian hesitated for a moment, but then continued.

“What I’m saying is that... it was hard for me to learn that suffering for love ain't romantic or cute. Alex and I want to help you get out of this destructive path you are going through, but we need to start things right. No lies, no secrets, and specially no shame." Forrest grabbed Michael's hand again, but this time Michael was more comfortable. "I want you both to be happy, even if it means me getting out of the picture eventually." As a reflex, Michael tightened his hand, a silent 'no' for the possibility. Forrest smiled and let his thumb caressed the back of Michael's hand.

"I know you can't make any decision right now. First because you just broke up with a long-term friend, and second because of the handprint. Much of your feelings are from Alex, so you are biased. But..." He stopped to bring Michael hands to his lips, and Forrest kissed them lightly with a hint of a smile "once we settle down, we can try something different.”

Michael was taken by surprise. He ran many scenarios in his head, and none of them came close to <i>that.

“I mean, what's the point of being a gay historian if I keep my mind closed towards contemporary interpersonal relations? Monogamy is a recent construct to better control nuclear households and… and... I am going to stop because I am losing the focus here.”

Michael laughed. He understood more and more Forrest's appeal. After a few hours of almost losing Alex and breaking up with Maria, Forrest managed to make Michael laugh.

“Alex says I get a bit too passionate about this matters and..."

"Can I kiss you?" Michael blurted, surprising even himself. "I know, I know, the handprint and all, but Alex's feelings are still fuzzy from the drugs and I am pretty sure he doesn't control every single emotion I have." Now it was time for Forrest to be taken aback. He pondered for two heartbeats and nodded, still processing what just happened.

Michael caressed Forrest face, mimicking what the historian did few moments ago on the back of his hand. Michael’s calloused fingers brushed the other man’s face, bringing him closer. It started as a brush of lips, and then escalated to a slow and tender kiss. It was one of those that meant comfort, not sex. It made Michael feel warm and safe. Forrest was saying "I accept you and you can stay", and Michael almost felt like crying.

The kiss was broken when they felt the weight shift in the sofa. Michael didn't know for how long they’ve been kissing. The only thing he processed was Forrest on his lap by the time Alex showed up. Michael was starting to panic when Forrest just let a little laugh, going back to the couch to give Alex a kiss on his forehead.

Michael's heart only came back to normal because he could feel how calm and peaceful Alex was. If not for the handprint, he’d definitely be running away right now. After the initial shock, Michael started to process how easy it felt to kiss Forrest while actively ignoring how he was the current boyfriend of his ex.

"You're overthinking again, Michael." Surprisingly (or maybe not), this phrase came out of Forrest, again. He didn't need a handprint to understand what was going on inside the alien's head, and that scared Michael. If only by knowing the stories he understood Michael better than his siblings, what would Forrest be able to do with a little more intimacy?

"War taught us that we can't take tomorrow for granted." Alex said, with a hint of tiredness in his voice that only existed after a drug-induced sleep. "That doesn't mean I'll feel sorry for you and let you go away with all the shit you put me through, Guerin." Alright, back to the last name basis then. "But I will, actually we will, offer you a chance of redemption, but it will all depend on you."

"Own your mistakes and learn from them. Don't project your faults onto others." Forrest said while standing up from the couch. "That means no more bullshit, Guerin."

Michael felt oddly comforted by both men being so straightforward. Yeah, he could get used to this bluntness. Maybe this is the first change he has to make from now on.

"Once this handprint fades and we’re in fully control of our emotions, we’ll talk about possibilities. Right now I just need to focus on not dying from an infected wound which an alien helped to heal." Alex said, finishing Forrest's tea to the last drop.

“Now, let’s give ourselves some time to digest everything. God knows I still need to process that I made coffee for an alien”. Which, by the way, would you like some more tea, captain?” Forrest stood up and grabbing the mug from Alex' hands. He didn't have to look at Alex to know the answer. "More coffee for you, Michael?" He motioned to the mug on the table.

Michael nodded, still mesmerized by what was happening. They had a long path ahead of them, but he knew how easy could it be to fall into a routine with them. Maybe the Slpiknot mug would slowly turn into his mug, and this realisation terrified him.

Michael slowly gave the object to the historian. He felt like if he moved a bit too abrupt, everything would dissolve and he would wake up in the airstream. Instead, the only thing that happened was Forrest going back to the kitchen and Alex completely relaxed on the couch.

“Did he give you the whole speech about monogamy and nuclear households? I mean, the whole speech?” Michael shook his head no, and Alex let out a soft laugh. “Then get ready for at least a two-hour lecture from him. I’m not exaggerating. He has a powerpoint presentation about it.”

Michael could feel more of Alex as the seconds passed, and he has never been so sure that he wanted to change. Forrest and Alex started talking about nothing in particular and Michael closed his eyes, letting himself be surrounded by the tenderness and warmth radiating from that place.

the end

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sharonthecagewitch · 3 years

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Darling Voice Lines

Again, not a Magia Record OC, but Darling is my baby and I love them.

Meeting Zena: "Hey, so, uh... How do I say this... Um... I... Hold on. Give me a few years."

Meeting the rest of the team: "Is Zena... Always so comfortable with people? I don't understand..."

Returning to Solus: "For once, it feels nice to come back... Maybe I can get Zena's apprentice application approved while I'm here. ... Of course, I'll have to go through the hell that is Shezzarine's council, and frankly I don't want to go through that, but what the hell, I like that kid."

Zena's behavior: "Hey, is it just me, or does nobody listen to any of my advice? 'Oh, you're too young to know what you're talking about'... Yeah, it's not MY fault I became a Great Sage when I wasn't even old enough to legally own a gun."

Studying the history of Solus: "Yeah, string me to this fucking tomb like I'm a grounded toddler who screamed at his mom and threw a tantrum... They don't explain, they just grab my arm, drag me to the library, sit me in front of a bunch of books and tell me to read.

... Who are these people, anyway?"

Traveling to the Chapel: "Yeah, it's Zena's handwriting, signature and general writing style... But I don't recall her being religious. Something really bad is going on. Damn, I can't believe she's keeping me out of the loop like this..."

Zena's lecture: "She's not talking about genocide. She has to have another solution. She wouldn't kill me. She's never killed anyone before.

... So why is there blood on her clothes...?"

Zena's onslaught: "Zena... Is this your true nature? A... A fucking psychopath!? Why... No. Something's wrong. You couldn't have done this yourself. You aren't a murderer. You wouldn't hurt a fly. You're the kindest, sweetest person I've ever met. So please tell me... Was it all a lie?"

Going into the Dungeons: "...I finished that history textbook, by the way. Zena was right, and now I gotta figure some things out on my own."

Returning: "... Great Divine. What... Why would...

I need to cut Zena off from this thing now."

Learning of Zena's Coronation: "... Well. It's... It's coming a lot sooner than I thought, huh..."

Planning: "This is gonna be hard, but it's for the best."

Hesitation: "Sh-she'll be okay. She'll push through this. She was fine without me before, and she'll be fine now."

Assisted Suicide: "Hey... Zena? Tomorrow's your coronation, right? So you'll need to look forward... Look forward, and don't go back, even when you have the option.

You were right. We are just cattle for the Divine Curse. So... If you really want to deny it the power it wants so badly... Then can you... P-please..."

Idle 1: "U-um, sorry about that! I was, uh, in a hurry. A gift just came in for one of my students, and I don't like the other teachers."

Idle 2: "Does anyone actually sleep in Solus Academy? I only take 30 minute naps at most, and I'm never tired. Same with Zena. Probably just some performance-boosting bullshit."

Idle 3: "So... I know you like seeing what I have to say and all, but like... I'm not that interesting to talk to, y'know? Zena, on the other hand..."

#Magia record #miitopia #miitopia oc #great sage #darling

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abusedapricots · 4 years

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I JUST finished The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes. WOW

I really enjoyed it, though not sure if I’ll feel the same way in a week when the book high has worn off, we’ll have to see.

*UPDATE: its meh, I dont regret reading it but I wouldn't recommend it to a friend. Honestly this book didnt need to be a thing but its not the worst.

I’ll admit, at first I was skeptical. I thought this would be a cash grab returning to an old world with guaranteed readers. I was worried that Panam would feel phony, after 10 years away from the original trilogy I didn't think it would feel real. I was quickly proven wrong. Coriolanus Snow definitely had his own story. The post-war capitol felt real even district 12 felt real. This book surprised me. Though my expectations were low I’m really happy about TBOSAS.

CORE-E-O-LAN-US or CORE-E-O-LANE-US?

I just quickly typed this up for some unbiased thoughts before I watch/read some reviews. As I'm sure there are lots of typos grammatical errors, and sloppy writing, I'll be back in a week to revise this review once I've let the books simmer.

Spoilers Ahead

I loved Coriolanus’ story. LOVED IT. He was smart, reserved, calculating, only ever giving away what was needed of a situation. Maybe it was the narcissist in me but I loved being in his brain. I liked how this book dealt with the other side of classism. How the once-revered Snows had fallen and Coriolanus need to keep up appearances, refusing to let the snow dynasty die. I like how thought-provoking the three C’s, chaos, control, and contract were. I liked how Coriolanus didn't have hard-set opinions, they changed as he grew. I find that a lot of the times with YA novels characters had a very strict world view of what is good and what is bad. Coriolanus’ view of humanity is never really clear until the end. He teetered on good and bad. Suzanne wrote a great villain, Snow was always able to justify his actions. He says it himself, he’s a capitol boy and he decides to play the game of fame and fortune instead of rising against injustice.

Coriolanus’ Superiority Complex

I think my favorite aspect of the book is how unattached Coriolanus was. Every time Coriolanus had to do anything he always weighed his options. He never rushed to help because it was the right thing to do, he did it to preserve an image. He’s all about his image. In the beginning, when he and Lucy Gray begin their relationship, Coriolanus never felt fully in it. Suzanne Collins writes in a way that obscures his motivations. He would often do and say things that made me believe that Coriolanus was really falling for Lucy Gray but then shortly after Coryo always mentions how he could benefit. He’s ‘love’ for Lucy Gray came from the want of the prize, the full ride to university, to bolster him and his family name, I don't think Coryo ever did anything out of pure intentions. He was never blind with love, he could still clearly see the options in front of him and every move was calculated, always self-serving. This is why him switching up on Lucy Gray wasn't very surprising, he saw a better opportunity and he took it. He never really loved her, he loved what she brought him, fame, attention, a chance at the prize, freedom once he used her up he had no use for her. Sure he was drawn in by her charm but in the end, he never really knew her, he had been too self-involved to ever really get to know people.

I think his lack of attachments was best represented in his unwavering distaste towards Sejanus. While he and Sejanus grew close (even just by proximity) Coryo never failed to look down on him, he never seemed to acknowledge that Senjanus’ worries were valid rather, he brushed them off as Sejanus being a district kid, never worthy of respect. When it came to it he was ruthless in his betrayal. Returning to the capitol and having the Plinths care for him as their own only solidified Snow’s heartlessness. I don’t think Snow was a psychopath, lacking all emotion, I think he definitely could have teetered over to the good side, but his superiority complex kept him from doing so. His classist need to divide and look down upon only grew as he goes on to become president. He has a very us against them mentality, a rich vs poor outlook where if you were born district that's all you'll ever be despite proving otherwise. Call it old fashion or heartless? He even had to convince himself and the capitol that Lucy Gray wasn't ‘truly’ a district kid, much less from district 12. He couldn't bear it, to be into someone from the lowest rung of society. It wasn't he style, not for the exceptional Coriolanus Snow. Funny how during the game when choosing which of the remaining mentors to eat with he thought “cannibal over cutthroat” while he was the most merciless himself.

Thoughts On Lucy Gray

I didn’t think she was anything special. Sure she was that cool, quirky™ girl but I’m not head over heels for her. I wasn't ever super invested in her. This might be because I’m reading in Coriolanus’ head, not seeing her as more than something to be used. I liked that she was nothing like Katniss though.

I liked it when Coryo saw her as a killer. When he had found the guns when his heart decided to kill her then. Lucy Gray knew the future too when she saw the guns, she knew it before Coriolanus knew it. She was smart, maybe reading from Coriolanus’ point of view shrouded her intellect as he refused to see anyone being better than him. He justified killing her by thinking of her as a killer. He altered his thoughts of her arena killings as a must for survival to cold-blooded. He no longer saw her as a ‘Poor Lamb’ but instead the “clever, devious, deadly girl”.

It was a shift for both Coryo and Lucy Gray. This showed that Lucy Gray wasn't without fault, she too could be cunning and ruthless, when need be of course. These few pages of the book were monumental in proving why Coriolanus was a bad person. It allowed the audience to see that everyone had this malice in them yet the majority chose not to listen and do the right thing while Coriolanus lead his life with that voice. He actively chose to do the wrong thing to move up in the world. His behavior was not special to him, his up growing, experience, and hardships didn’t make him an evil person, Coriolanus’ choice to choose evil at every turn to do good made him an evil person. Everyone has this malice in them but the majority chose not to act on it while Coriolanus welcomed it.

For Coriolanus, it showed that in his head, he could justify any action despite how cruel. I think this is where Coryo lost any last bit of humanity. He refused to see the world and its people to be good, to be capable of free thought. He saw the world to be controlled. These few pages were my favorite out of the book, I feel it to be the catalyst of his tyrannical rule. He couldn't trust the girl he “loved”, much less the district people.

Concluding Thoughts

This book made me think about responsibilities to preserve humanity vs our individual need to survive and be successful. If this what it takes to be president then so be it? how can you stop someone's pursuit of success? At what cost is someone's dream. At least we know that Coriolanus knows that the hunger games are wrong, he knows but to him its worth the cost of keeping the district complacent.

I think the cruelty of Dr. Gaul was needed to make Snow seem like a halfway decent person. With the addition of Dr.Gaul, it softened Coryo’s shitty behavior because what Coriolanus thinks and does pale in comparison to what Dr. Gaul thinks and does. Without Dr. Gaul, Coryo would have been the only one with these sick cynical thoughts, amplifying him to be the bad guy. I think it would be interesting to re-read this book while writing off Dr. Gaul’s action just to see just how evil Coriolanus is without the comparison of Dr. Gaul’s cruelties. I wonder if I would still be as understanding towards Coryo and if Dr. Gaul’s character had that large an impact to make Coryo seem not too bad.

Though I am left wondering how Tigris was left in the dust by the end of Mockingjay. It seems unlikely that Coryo would have just left Tigris to fend for herself given how fondly he spoke of the sacrifices she made for him and the family name. I wonder how she ended up with a failing fur undergarments business by Mockingjay. Had Coryo betrayed family? Coriolanus is callous but he still had loyalties, his family, Pluribus. It just doesn't seem like his style to leave the few he actually cared about to fend for themselves while he had the means to help. I mean even as peacekeeper Coryo sent most of his money back home. Maybe Tigris was the one that left Coryo as she was made out to be kind and caring, lacking the grandiose nature Coryo possessed. Also given that Tigris is older than Coryo, and him being a pretty old dying man in Mockingjay I can't seem to see Tigris being alive much less as active as she was in helping Katniss (and crew) in killing Coryo. Maybe it was her capitol surgeries that allowed her aging to slow?

I think its interesting that in the end Coriolanus still saw what he had with Lucy Gray as love. Maybe to him what he had was his version of love, being able to use someone and for them to be used so willingly. I wonder if he knows the difference between the two and what real love looks like. I wonder what he thought of Katniss and Peeta, stupidity? what's the point in being with someone if they dont benefit you?

Some stand out quotes:

“Oh, no. You don’t like it?” he exclaimed. “I can try and bring something else. I can-” Pg. 85. When Coryo brings Lucy Gray the bread pudding Tigris made. Coryo’s care of Lucy Gray’s taste preference was sweet. She hadn't had food in a while, having this bread pudding should the highlight of her day. The fact that Coryo cared that she didn’t like it and was quick to offer something else was very sweet of him. Ugh, image the type of gentleman he could have been if he had been genuine and not so rotten.

I like how Suzanne Collins didn’t try to get the audience to love and sympathize with Coriolanus. Instead, she makes it clear that Coryo activity chose to do the self-serving thing at every turn.

I genuinely really enjoyed this book. Maybe my second favorite out of the entire Hunger Games books (bold ranking!!! but it might change once the magic of being nose deep in a book for 3 days has worn off). I think this book works great as a stand-alone, I wouldn't be afraid to recommend it to those who haven't read the trilogy.

UPDATE* woah my post book high is bad. DEFINITELY NOT second favorite??? HUHH?? what was I saying? what was I thinking?? (my deep seeded resentment towards mockingjay is showing) this book in no way supersedes any of the trilogies, yes including mockingjay 😒.

I’m not gonna lie, I did start developing a crush on Coryo in the beginning. Him being so smart and driven, so gentlemanly, caring about the little things like handkerchiefs SWOON. Buuuuut he quickly became an ass.

I said that the title “The Ballad of Songbird and Snakes” was a ripoff of “A Song of Ice and Fire” before reading the book. I thought Miss Collins just wanted a super sick book name but as I have finished the book, I would like to formally apologize and retract my statement. The title does fit this book.

SNOW LANDS ON TOP

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #suzanne collins #coriolanus snow #coryo #snow lands on top #why did I write a 2000 word analysis on this book while I can't bring myself to do my one page of homework?

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amoralto · 4 years

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Hi! Since you're such a great source for Beatle quotes, do you happen to know if any of them ever commented on Charles Manson using Helter Skelter/the White Album as justification? I don't think I've ever come across any comments from them and I'd be super interested to know what they thought. Thanks! Love the blog, btw

Hello! And thank you so much for liking the blog. 😭 The short of it is that they have, intermittently, and there was some contemporaneous one-sided goings-on as well. I’ll put it all behind a cut, lest I be an interminable eyesore on dashboards.

For how/why Manson interpreted the White Album as he did, Barry Miles provides a good overview:

Charles Manson, thepsychopathic killer responsible for seven murders including that ofthe actress Sharon Tate, blamed LSD and the Beatles’ White Albumfor the series of killings his “Family” committed in August 1969.Manson was obsessed with the Beatles and, like many disturbedBeatles fans, thought they were directing secret messages to him viatheir songs. In Manson’s case, he thought the messages wereordering him to kill, and that “Helter Skelter” was the uprising in which blacks would murder a third of the world’s population. It wasalso the name his followers used for a murder spree. In his ramblingstatement at the conclusion of his murder trial on 19 November1970, he told the judge and jury:

“Like, Helter Skelter is a nightclub.Helter Skelter means confusion. Literally. It doesn’t mean any warwith anyone. It doesn’t mean that those people are going to kill otherpeople. It only means what it means. Helter Skelter is confusion.Confusion is coming down fast. If you don’t see the confusion comingdown fast, you can call it what you wish. It’s not my conspiracy. It isnot my music. I hear what it relates. It says ‘Rise!’ It says ‘Kill!’ Whyblame it on me? I didn’t write the music. I am not the person whoprojected it into your social consciousness.”

There were five tracks onthe White Album that Manson played more than others: “Blackbird”, “Piggies”, “Revolution 1”, “Revolution 9” and “Helter Skelter”, thoughfor Manson virtually every one of the thirty tracks brimmed withhidden significance. Even the fact that the sleeve was white wasprophetic. Manson’s interpretation of the Beatles’ lyrics was atwisted affair also heavily dependent on the Book of Revelation ofJohn 9, which he equated with John’s “Revolution 9”. In the biblicalRevelation, St. John says, “So the four angels held were set loose tokill a third of mankind. They had been held ready for this moment,for this very year and month, day and hour …”

To Manson theBeatles were the four angels. At the beginning of Revelation 9, Johnsees an angel [star] fall to earth: “and the star was given the key ofthe shaft of the abyss. With this he opened the shaft of the abyss;and from the shaft smoke rose like smoke from a great furnace, andthe sun and the air were darkened by the smoke from the shaft.Then over the earth, out of the smoke, came locusts …” Locusts, inManson’s mind, meant beetles. The fallen angel with the key was, ofcourse, himself. He had also found an abandoned mine shaft in thedesert north of Los Angeles about which he span many a fancy taleto his brainwashed followers, claiming it was the shaft in Revelation9.

Manson’s exegesis of Beatles lyrics was a supreme example ofobsessional interpretation and would have been hilarious had theresults not been so tragic. Manson taught his followers that theWhite Album prophesied that the black races would rise up andmurder the whites but that Manson and his Family would be saved.To him, “Rocky Raccoon” was about a “coon”, a black man. “Happiness Is a Warm Gun” was the Beatles telling the blacks thatthe time had come to fight, and the lyrics to “Blackbird” spelled it out even more clearly. With headphones on, Manson was able to hearthe command to “Rise!” hidden in the mix of John and Yoko’s soundcollage urging the blacks to rise up; in fact it was John shouting “Right” from the original “Revolution” tape. The white enemy wasidentified in “Piggies”, which is why the Family scrawled the words “Death to Pigs” in blood on the wall after killing Rosemary and LenoLaBianca with knives and forks “in the dead of night”, and “Pig” onthe door of Sharon Tate’s home.

The words to “Helter Skelter”showed Manson and the Family emerging from the shaft to take overafter Armageddon. Manson expected the murders to be the long-awaited signal for the blacks to begin their bloody uprising and wassurprised that riots did not follow. Vincent Bugliosi, Deputy DistrictAttorney for Los Angeles, whose book Helter Skelter is the standardwork on the trial and Manson’s cult, questioned Manson about hisbeliefs. “We both know you ordered those murders,” he told him. “Bugliosi,” Manson replied, “it’s the Beatles, the music they’reputting out. They’re talking about war. These kids listen to this musicand pick up the message. It’s subliminal.” It was complete madness.

— Barry Miles, Many Years From Now. (1997)

John’s thoughts right around the time of the trial:

WENNER: What did you think of [Charles Manson] when that thing happened?

JOHN: I don’t know what I thought when it happened. I just think a lot of the things he says are true, that he’s a child of the state made by us. And he took their children in when nobody else would, is what he did. But of course he’s cracked, alright.

WENNER: What were your feelings when he quoted ‘Helter Skelter’?

JOHN: Well, he’s barmy. He’s like any other Beatle kind of fan who reads mysticism into it. I mean we used to have a laugh—put in this, that or the other in a light-hearted way, that some intellectual would read as symbolic youth generation whatsit. But we also took seriously some parts of the role. But I don’t know what’s ‘Helter Skelter’ got to do with knifin’ somebody, you know? I’ve never listened to the words properly, “helter skelter,” which is sort of a noise.

— John Lennon, Lennon Remembers interview w/ Jann Wenner. (December 8th, 1970)

Interestingly, in the lead-up to the trial, The Family had tried to get in contact with the Beatles:

With Beatles’ lyrics adding an enigmatic backdrop to the proceedings, it transpired that Manson wanted to call John Lennon to court to support his reading of ‘Helter Skelter’. In fact, Charlie was wrong to credit Lennon with the song, as it was actually Paul McCartney’s sole composition. Nonetheless, someone from the Family obtained the London number of Apple Corps, The Beatles’ London headquarters. As chief messenger, Squeaky made a series of calls with a view to talking to one of the group.

‘One of the Family, Squeaky, called the Apple press office,’ remembers Apple press office assistant, Richard Di Lello. ‘Not wanting to get involved, I do remember that we passed that call on to Peter Brown [Apple Corporation head]. The call from Squeaky did not get very far. We wanted nothing to do with them.’

But the Family didn’t give up on The Beatles so easily, not after they’d help kick-start their bloody rampaging. Gypsy, one of Manson’s most loyal supporters, collared reporters during the trial, armed with a message to be passed on to the Fab Four. ‘What can I say to the damn Beatles?’ Gypsy begged journalist David Felton visiting Spahn’s Ranch. ‘Just get in touch, man. This is their trial. And all the things they’ve been hearing – there’s something happening here; they should see it by now. It’s hard to see through the negative, but just tell them to call. Give them our number.’

— Simon Wells, Charles Manson: Coming Down Fast. (2010)

The defense team also tried to officially subpoena John to testify for (them and) ‘Helter Skelter’, either not knowing he wasn’t the writer of the song either, or banking on the John-Is-The-Intellectual-Beatle persona, or most likely some measure of both:

But, in London, a spokesman for the Beatles said today that is “like summoning Shakespeare to explain Macbeth.”

What’s more, said the spokesman, the song in question “Helter Skelter” — was written not by Lennon but by Paul McCartney, another Beatle.

“We want John Lennon to testify,” a defense source said in an interview Tuesday. “We feel he may want to explain the lyrics.”

— Associated Press, Tate Defense Wants Beatle to Be Witness. (October 28th, 1970)

‘We want John Lennon to testify,’ a defence spokesperson revealed at the time. ‘We feel he may want to explain his lyrics … He’s the most articulate and philosophical of the Beatles, and he understands his social and political effect on the world.’

— Associated Press? (October 28th, 1970), c/o Simon Wells, Charles Manson: Coming Down Fast. (2010)

Lennon told the Associated Press: “I’m a peace-loving man. If I were a praying man, I’d pray to be delivered from people like Charles Manson who claim to know better than I do what my songs are supposed to mean.”

Reporter Donald White also quoted Lennon as saying, “Why didn’t Manson listen to our song ‘Revolution’? ‘Revolution’ clearly states my position on violence. ‘When you talk about destruction, you can count me out!’”

Lennon didn’t testify at the trial which ended on Jan. 25, 1971. Manson was found guilty of first degree murder and conspiracy to commit murder.

— Steve Seymour, Infamy grows for Helter Skelter. (February 23rd, 2011)

And John in 1980:

SHEFF: Did it trouble you when the interpretations of your songs were destructive, such as when Charles Manson claimed that your lyrics were messages to him?JOHN: No. It has nothing to do with me. It’s like that guy, Son of Sam, who was having these talks with the dog. Manson was just an extreme version of the people who came up with the ‘Paul is dead’ thing or who figured out that the initials to ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’ were LSD and concluded I was writing about acid.

…

SHEFF: ‘Helter Skelter’?

JOHN: That’s Paul completely. All that [Charles] Manson stuff was built ’round George’s song about pigs and this one… Paul’s song about an English fairground. It has nothing to do with anything and, least of all, to do with me.

— John Lennon, interview w/ David Sheff for Playboy. (September, 1980)

Paul, George, and Ringo, from what I’ve seen, have been overall reticent about it over the years, usually speaking of the song solely on its own terms and not Charles Manson’s. But they did touch upon it in Anthology:

PAUL: Then it got over to America – the land of interpretive people. And as a DJ would later ‘interpret’ the fact that I had no shoes on the Abbey Road cover, Charles Manson interpreted that ‘Helter Skelter’ was something to do with the four horseman of the Apocalypse. I still don’t know what all that stuff is: it’s from the Bible, Revelations – I haven’t read it so I wouldn’t know. But he interpreted the whole thing – that we were the four horsemen, ‘Helter Skelter’ the song – and arrived at having to go out and kill everyone.It was terrible. You can’t associate yourself with a thing like that. Some guy in the States had done it – but I’ve no idea why. It was frightening, because you don’t write songs for those reasons. Maybe some heavy metal groups do nowadays, but we certainly never did.

RINGO: It was upsetting. I mean, I knew Roman Polanski and Sharon Tate and – God! – it was a rough time. It stopped everyone in their tracks because suddenly all this violence came out in the midst of all this love and peace and psychedelia. It was pretty miserable, actually, and everyone got really insecure – not just us, not just the rockers, but everyone in LA felt: ‘Oh God, it can happen to anybody.’ Thank God they caught the bugger.GEORGE: Everyone was getting on the Beatles bandwagon. The police and the promoters and the Lord mayors – and murders too. The Beatles were topical and they were the main thing that was written about in the world, so everybody attached themselves to us, whether it was our fault or not. It was upsetting to be associated with something so sleazy as Charles Manson.

— The Beatles: Anthology. (2000)

PAUL: I wasusing the symbol of a helter skelter as a ride from the top to thebottom, the rise and fall of the Roman Empire and this was the fall,the demise, the going down. You could have thought of it as a rathercute title but it’s since taken on all sorts of ominous overtonesbecause Manson picked it up as an anthem, and since then quite afew punk bands have done it because it is a raunchy rocker. […] We did work very hard on that track.Unfortunately it inspired people to evil deeds.

— Barry Miles, Many Years From Now. (1997)

I’ll end with a recent Paul interview, because in the end, what ‘Helter Skelter’ is is a good song, and a damn good one:

“Well, that put me off doing it forever,” he says. “I thought, I’m not doing [‘Helter Skelter’], you know, because it was too close to that event, and immediately it would have seemed like I was, either I didn’t care about all the carnage that had gone on or whatever, so I kept away from it for a long time. But then in the end I thought, you know, that’d be good on stage, that’d be a nice one to do, so we brought it out of the bag and tried it and it works. It’s a good one to rock with, you know.”

— Paul McCartney, interview w/ Dan Stubbs for NME. (September 14th, 2018)

#ask #context #sessions: the white album

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hashtag-amf · 3 years

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Welcome to my Tumblr blog. Here I will give my honest opinions and pour out my thoughts about the ideas behind my Wattpad books. You can take inspiration from this blog when you are planning to write a novel. I wanted to write a separate Wattpad book where I could talk about this. But I then decided that I wanted to reach a wider audience, and Tumblr was better suited for this purpose.

Please note: This will be posted in parts every Friday!

Edited by @wayward-heronstairs , @hashtag-amf and Hemingway Editor

I started my Wattpad journey in May 2016. I was staying at my cousin’s house, and she asked me whether I knew about the app called Wattpad. I had never heard the name before. It was such an odd name for an app, I thought to myself. I was not interested in downloading the app because reading didn't appeal to so much. A few hours later, I downloaded Wattpad. Yay.

Then came the shocker. I got my first follower. A thin guy with spectacles. I was nervous because I had never been on a social media platform before. I didn't know what to do. I was staring at his profile pic, wondering if he was a psychopath or just crazy enough to follow me on Wattpad. I am anxious like that. I wondered how on earth did he find my account within six hours as I had not posted any stories on Wattpad yet.

The first book I read on Wattpad was fanfic about 'The Fault in Our Stars.' At that time, I had no idea what fanfic was. I picked that book to read because I had watched TFIOS twice now. Unfortunately, I didn't like the fanfic, so I uninstalled the app the same night.

Then came December of 2016. It was the Christmas holidays, and I was very tired of studying. I owned that crappy Nokia XL neon green phone. Urgh, that stock Android phone was a nightmare. I downloaded Wattpad and looked for some good books to read. At that time, Midika Crane’s books were a huge hit. Her books had those dark black and white covers were guys with eight pack abs stared out of the cover at the reader. At first, I hated the cover because I thought she hadn't done a great job of selecting a good cover for the book. I remember clicking on 'Alpha Kaden', a currently published novel. I had spent half an hour on one page trying to decipher what was written. Halfway through the Prologue and I couldn't read more. Her professional level of writing was not understandable by me.

When I was halfway done with Midika’s book, I added ‘She’s With Me’ by Ava Violet to my Wattpad reading list. It was such an amazing book. I loved reading it. It was about Amelia who was running away from her past. She had enrolled herself in the school. I don’t remember the name because I read it a long time back) and she meets the heartthrob of the school and his friends. The story was like a cliché romance novel but what stood out was Amelia’s back story.

After reading more than 90 books on Wattpad I decided to make a writing debut on Wattpad. I spent more time reading Wattpad books than studying. I would read Wattpad books in the canteen, the student's study room, at home when my mom wasn't watching. It was addicting. In 2017, the first book I wrote was a fanfic of Hellboy, the 2004 film. I never imagined myself writing fanfiction about a movie I was so scared to watch. As a child, I was so terrified of that movie that the moment I saw Hellboy on the screen, I would look away in fear. All that I remember as a kid was the scene from the second installment of the movie 'The Golden Army'. He was holding twin infants wrapped in a white blanket. There was some sort of fantasy creatures running around the street. Hellboy was spot on with his aim, that she shot them with his gun.

Then in May 2014, I got a chance to watch Hellboy on the television again. As a teenager, I wasn't scared of him anymore, but I was more intrigued by it. I loved that movie so much that I had a crush on John Myers (Rupert Evans). He was 'the dude that didn't get the girl', you know. I empathized with him as he took so much trouble by fighting alongside Hellboy. He deserved more.

Later in the movie, the professor tells John that he is dying, and Hellboy needs someone in his absence. In the movie, Hellboy treated Myers like trash. He is more of a nanny and less of an FBI Agent. And because of this, Myers tells the professor that he cannot stay at the BRDP any longer. The professor tells him that he chose him for a reason as he saw potential in Myers. He adds that in many medieval stories there is a white night and Myers was that. He tells him to take care of Hellboy after he passes away.

Another reason why I felt like writing fanfic was that Myers and Liz's chemistry was so adorable. He tried his best to flirt with Liz (Selma Blair). I hoped that he and Liz ended up as a couple. But Hollywood movies are unkind to side actors. So, when Hellboy got the girl, my heart dropped. My heart couldn't handle it. I was screaming at this heartbreaking injustice. I was like, this man needs a girl. I had to make a way to help him get the girl so that I didn't have this heaviness building inside me.

Above: Rupert Evans as John Myers in Hellboy (2004)

And thanks to being a Wattpad writer, I came up with my own story. I named it Hellboy 3. The reason for keeping this title was because of Hellboy: The Golden Army released in 2008. I didn’t want to confuse readers about which Hellboy movie the fanfic was about. I researched Wikipedia thinking that Rupert Evans had reprised his role as John Myers in it, but I was wrong. As per Wikipedia reports, Evans was filming ‘The Kiss of a Spiderwoman’ so he couldn’t be a part of the movie.

Writing the fanfic was challenging. I was stumbling through the dialogues and the scenes. I thought that this will not get more than 20 chapters, but if I am not wrong, it surpassed 20 chapters. The story got some likes, some encouraging comments, but then I was not happy with my writing. I deleted it.

In 2017-ish, I wrote another story about vampires. I wrote down the story on one of the leftover books I had in my drawer. I had a good time writing it as it was one of my original stories. I made my original characters, a mythical place cursed by time. I named it ‘The Kingsmen’. Then after I had filled half of the pages by writing, I decided it was time to edit. I posted it on Wattpad. I published the chapters with no updating schedule. After surpassing fifteen chapters, I deleted the book because the grammar was awful. I felt I was adding unnecessary commas after the dialogues. I didn't have someone to edit the story, and I also had this nagging suspicion that my mom knew I wasn't studying. I hated college because I would get tired, and the studies bored me to the core. I studied for the heck of it. Everything was fine when one fine day, I forgot the password to my Wattpad account.

It was hell on earth. Panic rose within me. It was like the end of the world was near. I tried to calm myself down. I had to remember the password. I felt that I was such a miserable person for forgetting a simple thing as a password. I tried password recovery. I scourged my Gmail account for the recovery link, but Wattpad wasn't sending the link. At that time, Wattpad was super slow when it came to sending recovery links for passwords. I remember Wattpad sent me recovery passwords five hours later. Wattpaders know that logging via recovery link is time-sensitive. When I clicked the link, Wattpad said that the link wasn't valid. I did this three times till my patience wore me out.

I was devastated. I had put so much of my heart and soul while writing that book. It was my baby, and now the account was gone….I didn't cry. Thank God I didn't cry. I was sad. It felt like someone took a piece of my heart away from me and didn't return it.

This is how it looked:

In January 2018, I made a new account on Wattpad. Now I have written down all the passwords in a notebook, not going to repeat the mistake.

Okay! This was the end of part one. Tell me how you liked it!!

By the way, I got the chance to watch Hellboy (2004) on the television today. John Myers is such a cutie!! Please check my latest IG highlights for the video. I cannot embedded the video on Tumblr :(

#writingwithalizeypart1 #hashtagamf #wattpadwriting #wattpad #newpost #writers on tumblr #writingideas #behindthestory #wattpaders #writinginspirat #newwritingtips #writeathon #writing #howtogetwritingideas

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tgai-spock · 3 years

Text

anyway here chapter 1 new trek fic with spock erm. they.

no title

untitled

will find it oh shit its 1 now

The talk of the ship was a book, created by Anna Natasha detailing the events of people in life threatening situations, some of whom were ex-starfleet. It was the newest hit culture sensation. The beginning to the book was filled with the species involved, human, orion just common facts about their species, how long they could go without food, how long they could go without water, It was unneccesery as every moment a person spent in peril the narrator tended to remind you, but it was introsting. The book wasn’t about comparing, it was about pushing the boundaries of surivial, hope in the face of certain death, so it was no surprise the Captain Kirk had managed to devour it.

“I’m just saying” Kirk said with a shrug “I’m forcing the whole crew to read the entire thing.”

Spock, who had stopped and blinked up back to Kirk “I don’t think-“

“It’s logical” Kirk counters.

Spock raises an eyebrow “how?”

“It’s full of surivial tips, in different situations with real people.”

“Hold - hold on. Some of the things people do actively put themselves in a worse situation, take Akala and David, they’d have a few extra toes each if they hadn’t caused that avalanche.”

“True” Kirk nodded “but, we can learn from their mistakes, don’t start a fire beanth a mountain made curly of snow.”

“Jim boy, if there’s some silly folks thinking lighting a fire while inside the mountain thats more snow than stone I don’t think there’s any hope for them.”

“Yet David and and Akala still survived” Spock said.

“Hey, you would agree with me. That said you’ve be awful to have any, the amount of wrong survival decisions you make.”

Spock frowned “I am still alive, therefore I have made all the right survival decisions.”

“Jim, what do you think you should do when your stabbed through?”

“Die? No see a doctor.”

“Great, so you can confirm, you do not run around, and then try to fight people?”

“Objection, I did see you a doctor first, unfortunately it was you-”

“Hey!” McCoy yelled.

“Gentlemen, please” Kirk rolled his eyes “I’ve already made up my mind, it’s mandatory reading.”

“I doubt it will make much difference” McCoy said into his lunch “I think the whole crews already gone through it, I’ve seen Chapel read through it twice. She think Adam Smith cute. Ugh.”

“Was that the Adam in the desert or the one working in the natural disaster relief?”

“The one that got himself lost in the desert.”

“She has bad taste”

“Yeah I’d say” McCoy said grinning, knowing her not so secret crush.

“I bet I could fill an entire book with my near death experiences” Kirk says placing the book down and finished off his stake.

“That’s all my logs are. You drag me down to a damn planet I don’t need to be on, an I almost die.”

“You hardy ever die.” Spock mumbles.

“Thank you Spock, oddly enough the ideal amount of times to die, is once, and it should be perment. But oddly enough I do count people shooting weapons at me as a near death experience.”

Spock frowned “even if they don’t hit you?”

“Why are you acting like thats weird? Yes even if the loaded gun misses my head by 2mm and I am unscathed, that is still a near death experience.”

“Then I could defiantly fill up a book of near death experiences that I didn’t even get whilst on duty” Kirk said.

“Likewise.”

“You should both be dead. I am the only one keeping this ship alive.”

“Fun fact I really should be dead” Spock said.

“I’m signing you up to therapy-”

“A slightly older version of me went back in time, and save me from dying when I was a child.”

“He’s lost his marbles.”

“Really?” Kirk frowned.

Spock looked up to Kirk and frowned “yes.”

“Right. Of course. You’d think time travel would be a bit harder to come by, when I was a kid I never even imagined time travel to exist.”

“That would save us both a lot of trouble.”

“I sure hope your referring to a certain planet, and not your own existence.”

“I was referring to how your up bring and birth would have been completely different but your not wrong.”

“Oh I guess so, any time travel in you childhood Bones?” Kirk asks.

“No Jim. I’m a normal person. Just a country doctor.” He says smugly.

“I’m a normal person. I think, and Spock a normal-”

“The only vulcan humans hybrid.”

“That doesn’t make you unnormal.”

“Mathmaticlly it does.”

“Well I’m not speaking math, your a normal person to me.”

“I have no concept of the words you are saying, but, thank you?”

“That’s it! The only un-normal person I’ve ever known was this boy in my high school, he used to cut open animals and try to frankenstein them back into life.”

A psychopath…or a scientist? Spock psychopath or scientist?”

“You eat dead animals all the time” Spock said “how are you not a psychopath.”

“I’m not just saying that, if theres a lot of animal deaths going on there it’s an early sign that they could later try killing a human.”

“Intresting… then I would suggest an immoral scientist.”

“So evil.”

* * *

He turned the tablet over in his hands, and he turned it again so the email would look at him. He turned it around again, a slow spin, his mind making the same turns. In the end it was a two way choice to accept or reject. To accept would give people a glimpse of himself, it would help home vulcans, and it could mean that his own crew would treat him differently. Worse. Or that look of pity, something that should only be given to a puppy needing a home, a look that should only be given by those stepping up to home the puppy. Not a look to a person about an experience so long ago that it was now apart of their being. To reject would hold off valuable resources to vulcan. Not hold away as such, but he could bring extra to those who need it, for those to rebuild their culture before the older vulcans with knowledge die before the planned regains its true self suficentcy. New vulcan currently had an unbalance, doctors to builders, to skilled to unskilled. Skilled workers needed to be brought in from outside sources and that did cost money. His tablet buzzes, another email from Kirk. He wants to talk.

Spock enters Kirks room at the same time as McCoy. McCoy got that air about him, like a hen puffing up to protect her eggs.

“Whats going on Jim?” McCoy asks.

“You would never believe the email I just got” Kirk said with a smile, and McCoy unpuff a bit sensing his mood.

“What is it?” McCoy asked.

“Anna Natasha has just informed me that she has permission to seek any life and death stories from starlet personal, as long as they haven’t happened while on duty, or involve starfleet.”

“Oh well you said just this morning you could fill an entire book. Are you thinking about accepting.”

“I don’t know” Kirk shrugged “should I? They offered me a lot of money, and whilst there are some situations I don’t want to repeat… I think I have a couple of situations I wouldn’t mind sharing.”

“Well, whatever you do, just don’t accept for the money.”

“I have the same email.”

“Oh?” Kirk says surprised.

“And I was thinking about accepting just for… the donation to new vulcan.”

“Oh. Donating. To new vulcan - hey I could do that? I could get my self a few treats, and then donate the rest.” Kirk said thoughtfully.

“Don’t let me influence how you spend your money” Spock said.

“No, I’d want to, I could split some cash between charities. Do you think my crew would disrespect if I told everyone, about this time I spat in a mans face.”

“Did you do it while also pushing a plane wreck survivor over the edge a cliff?” McCoy asked.

“No, I did not pull a Bella Saurus.” Kirk said.

“Then I think it might be okay. You could always retell me about the situation first, and then I could give you my initial reaction. You too Spock. In fact clear it with both of us first.”

“Is that an order?”

“I’m just saying, you ain’t got emotions, for all I know you could have cut up a corpse to keep yourself warm, and that ain’t going to go over smoothly with there rest of the crew.”

“Firstly thats disgusting, and secondly that sounds logical.”

“Jim, Jim help me.”

“It is not an order Spock, do whatever you like. However if you would like an ear to bat one of your experiences off first to see if that will effect how you interact with your crew, both me and McCoy offer a friendly ear.”

“Thank you.”

“Thats what I just set.”

“No… you said somethings about cutting up copses and living in them. Would that work?”

“It does, many people have survived a cold winter by climbing into the corpse of a dead animal.”

“Humans are weird.”

“Okay.

* * *

Four days after he received his email Spock realised that he not care what his crew thought of him, he had had foul rumour spread across the ship many times before he’d become commander and some after. Half of the rumours were true. But it had never stopped him, whether someone thought he was mean or cruel. If someone decided he was stupid, or a narcissist or selfish psychopath. It didn’t matter. Wether his crew viewed him as evil or good he could still common them, put them in the brig for disobedience, but few disobeyed him know he’d follow through fully on any threats. The only thing that held him back was James.T.Kirk and Leonard McCoy, and a few of the other commanding officers he respected and admired. He did care what they thought of him, and it worried him to think that they might learn of one experience and think of him as evil, though he couldn’t even bring to mind the slightest of experiences that could label him as evil, as least not one he had taken off duty. On the seventh day after receiving the email, he decided he wanted to tell them anyway.

It was an odd experience, he was not what could be described as a talker, and he liked to represent himself as the person he was in the moment. Not to be judged by the past but only by the present an ever turning of events. Not to be judged by the future nor the past, not to allow someone to think that all these past things were an explanation for his present being when in between all of that were countless books, people, and not so threatening experiences, mundane everyday activities which just as much effected his present if not ever more so. He did know Jim had been on taurus, he had told him a long time ago through passing conversation. He didn’t talk about it a lot, just mentioned it. Spock didn’t judge him for it and couldn’t, but that didn’t mean other people didn’t. Yet Spock did not have a taurus. So he wasn’t really sure what he was so worried about, most of the situations he was in, was in part due to his clumsiness. After duty the three gathered to talk for an evening.

* * *

McCoy opened up his medical chest on the coffee table between them. They were in Jims quarters one of the few rooms that allowed a personal place to sit, and these sofas were rarely used.

“Just to be clear” Jim said “I don’t need a hypo.” McCoy grinned and opened the chest to reveal a bottle of brandy.

“Is there any occasion that will not result in you drinking?” Spock asked somewhat unsurprised.

“Brain surgery. Well, I mean I’ll have a shot to keep my nerves down, medicinal helps me work.”

“You’ve done brain surgery on me” Spock said appalled.

“One shot just wasn’t going to help me I did, five.”

“Jim” Spock said seriously.

“He’s joking Spock” Jim said scratching his head, as he took a glass from McCoy.

“I’m not” McCoy mouthed at Spock.

“Bones don’t.”

“Wait Spock, what would you rather, I do brain surgery on you after one shot, or an unknown sober vulcan does brain surgery on you.”

“Neither let me die in peace.”

“Thats it buddy, one more word that some how equates to you not being alive, and I’m putting you back on suicide alert.”

“You had him on suicide alert?” Jim asked appalled “are okay.”

“I am perfectly fine, and not suicidal” Spock says seriosuly.

“I literally don’t know whats going through his head, I have him on it almost every other week. Although it is procedure to put people on suicide alert after they’re toruted or have a near death experience for at least four weeks. And Spock rarely goes without either.”

“They’re should be a maximum amount of near death experiences that can get you put on suidide, and then after twenty five or so, they just shouldn’t apply.” Spock said.

“See that sounds logical to him” McCoy shrugged “when humans get beat up that much they usually get so tired being in pain so often that sometimes, the kill themselves.”

“I haven’t.”

“The procedures are for normal people. Anyway” McCoy swirls the drink in his glass as he points from Spock to Jim “who’s starting? Lets get these death tales underway, I might even throw one in myself. But only one, unlike some people I’m not dying every other day.”

“Fair enough” Jim nodded “Spock, you’ve heard some of mine before now, would you mind starting.”

“That seems fair, although I have decided to go for my youngest experiences as I feel people won’t be able to hold that strong opinion on something a child has done.”

“You? A child? I doubt.”

“Thats true I was just a very short man.” Spock agree and McCoy snorted into his drink.

“Okay I’m sorry. Okay. I am turning into nice McCoy, go on with your story.”

“Well you’ve not nearly drunk enough to turn into nice McCoy but very well.”

The gaps between us

I was nine years old at the time, it was Van’Dra at the time on vulcan. Vulcan has six seasons, Van’Dra is the hottest of them, it is the only season where the desert doesn’t cool at night and the cheikkka bugs can be spotted with their glowing neon wings gathering in groups before coming to their yearly demise. Vulcans schools don’t have a summer holiday as such, but as it is the time of most wildlife, and the occasional festival, this season is used to practice survival skills, or for independent learning and volunteer work, which the majority of all school age children work for to support their own communities and gain outside knowledge of how the world works.

That year I had not applied to work the in any volunteer work as it was pointless, despite my fathers stubborn insistence that I do so. Instead I had decided to spend my time studying, and visiting ‘Vulcans Forge’ by myself.

“Wait is that not obviously dangerous?” McCoy asked.

“Yes, but not for me I spent a lot of my time there.” Spock said.

“Why? Just in the outback.” McCoy said.

“I like nature and I like looking at bugs, thats why I’m a scientist.”

“Okay… I guess. no wait loads of fully grown vulcans used to die there. I remember-”

“McCoy are you trying to talk me out of going to a place that no longer exists.”

“Let him talk” Jim moaned who was very much enjoying listening to the info dump on vulcan.

“Well, I’m just saying, that just sounds like a bad idea. Sounds like a Adam in the desert move.”

“I spent more time in the desert than my own home. What I am talking about is probably the worst thing, with a single exception, to happen to me in the desert, and I spent 8 more years visiting the forge without incident.”

“Okay well that-”

“I’ve not even begun-”

“Sorry! Sorry carry on Mr Spock. Stop telling me about the seasons.”

“It’s important.”

“You almost die of thirst? You get heat stroke?”

“Have another drink Doctor.” Spock said and he continued.

My brother-

“BROTHER?!” Both McCoy and Kirk yelled.

“Oh you didn’t know?” Spock said slyly “maybe I’ll tell you about him if you be quiet.”

“A brother? I have so many questions.” Jim said

“Can I answer all of them?” Spock asked

“Sorry carry on.”

My brother, the son of Sarek, and a vulcan princess, had come out of a distant small mountain community- McCoy if you say one more word I will kill you. He had recently moved into our family home as his mother had died. His entire existence had been kept a secret and was a surprise to everyone. No. No McCoy save your questions for later.

Sybok was a truly unique vulcan and one of whom I rarely met. His mother had believed in emotion- if I have to remind you one more time I will end you without mercy. So he was taking time to adjust to the house. My Father always urged the strictest emotional control, more so than any normal vulcan would ask, my mother would go against his wishes anytime he was gone more than a day from the house. Yet she was rarely so emotional with me, she might watch a film with me but or introduce me to a new earth book, but with Sybok she encouraged him to be happy. Since Sybok had missed out on important training in controlling himself at a young age and saw his emotion to the one thing tying him to his mother he found this entire concept very difficult and disturbing.

#spock #leonard mccoy #james t kirk #star trek tos #star trek aos #dr mccoy #captain kirk

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jokerfan99 · 5 years

Photo

Strong Pains, Stronger Bonds (RWBY/RVB) by Necroceph

*RVB Opening Theme*

At the Blue Base

BOOOOOM!!!

Continuing to where we left off, the Blue base is being heavily besieged by the lone Red with nothing but a rocket launcher on her shoulder and the fit of inhuman rage that terrifies even Satan himself. Oh and Church became a ghost again thanks to Caboose acciddently shooting him with Crescent Rose. The continuous bombardment has destroyed 49% of the base. Their rooms are ruined, the weapons storage obliterated and Tucker's stash of monthly magazines buried under a pile of rubble. If Church were still in his body, he would've died of cardiac arrest. Now look at him!

Church: FUCK FUCK FUCK FUUUUUUUUUCCKK!!! OUR BAAASE!!! Caboose: There there, Church. At least we can camp outside!

BOOOOOOM!!!

Caboose: But first running time! Church: Wait, don't leave my body here! Caboose: Whoops, sorry!

Caboose quickly picks up Church's corpse from the floor and runs straight behind one of the defensive walls followed by Church's ghost where everbody has taken shelter in.

Tucker: HAHAHA! Church is a ghost again. Church: Don't you dare bring that up! What the fuck is wrong with your teammate?! Simmons: I don't know, I've never seen Rose this destructive before. Tucker: Never? What was she like before this? Grif: Sweet, kind, innocent, all those traits of a stereotypical girl. Tucker: Ohoho that's my type of girl. Simmons: Maybe she's here to rescue us. Grif: Rescue? Does this even look like a 'rescue' mission?! It's more like a bombardment! Church: Well I don't care what's she's here for. Stop her or something! Simmons: Like what? Church: I don't know. How you always talk to her.

Grif and Simmons look at each other. Both shrugged before removing themselves out of cover and try to stop her attack.

Grif: HEY YOU DUMB BITCH! Stop shooting or I'll eat all of your cookies! Simmons: And if you don't, I have no choice but to report Sarge about your reckless behaviour!

The angry Red responded not with words but with more barrages of rockets. The Red duo quickly duck back to cover before the bombs blow up in impact nearby.

Grif: *breath in an out* That was close! Simmons: Okay, she's far beyond our control now. Church: Ugh! We can't just stay here all day until the whole base turns to rubble! Tucker: Hey wasn't Caboose suppose to shoot her? Church: He was until the numbskull shot me, AGAIN! Caboose: I told you it was Sheila II's fault. Church: Now I don't trust him with that thing anymore. Tucker, you'll do it. Tucker: What? Why me? I do wanna get the chance to fire that thing, but shooting at a possibly hot chick? Church: Want your dick to be spared for Weiss? Tucker: Uh... yeah? Church: Then good. Caboose, give Tucker the rifle. Caboose: Okay.

Caboose hands Crescent Rose to Tucker.

Tucker: Finally! Time to finally fire this thing. Wait a minute, why don't we just use our rifles? Church: Have you ever try hitting a faraway moving target in mid range? Tucker: Good point.

Tucker got out of cover and aims the Crescent Rose at the lone Red 'Rambo' riding around the base. The warthog isn't in full speed so he didn't have to worry about aiming the gun. Once she's in his crosshair he pulls the trigger. However, just like happened with Caboose, nothing came out from the barrel. He tries again. Still nothing.

Tucker: What the-?

BABABABABABABANG!!!

Swarms of bullets fly passed the Teal One, luckily not a single shot landed on him or he'll be swiss cheese. He yelped out and jumps back into cover.

Church: What happened? Have you killed her? Grif: Sarge will be really pissed if he did. Tucker: This damn thing won't fire! Church: What?! Caboose: See I told you, Sheila has gone naughty! Church: How can that be? Caboose somehow manage to fire that thing and it worked perfectly fine! Tucker: No seriously, look!

Once Tucker pulls the trigger, he thought it won't fire, but it did. The rifle finally fired again and a high caliber bullet fly passed through Church's astral form and hits the concrete floor right between Grif's legs! Thankfully, his balls were spared!

Grif: EEEK! Watch where you're shooting, jackass! Church: T-that's exactly what happened just now! Caboose couldn't fire at that psychopath but he was able fired that thing at me! Tucker: Does this thing have a mind of it's own or what? Simmons: I think it's a mod.

Everybody turned to Simmons when they heard of what he said.

Church: What are you talking about? Simmons: That thing is made by her right? She must've installed a mod as a precaution so that it can't be allowed to harm her. Everyone: A mod? Simmons: That's right. I think I read it somewhere in a book. This mod can identify a certain body signature through a long range biometric scanner. Meaning that once it reads a certain body signature, for example the creator's, it locks the firing mechanism unless the signature is no longer in its field anymore. Church: So it can't harm it's user? That's just fucking great. Well it looks like we'll just have to rely on our crappy guns. C'mon guys, let's teach this bitch a lesson. Grif: Hey, what about us? You can't just leave us tied up here! Tucker: Hey at least those handcuffs will prevent you from escaping. Catch ya later!

At the Red Base

This is beautiful, Sarge thought. He happily looks at the devastation being laid upon the Blues by his favourite female soldier. Of all the things he sees in the war, he has never seen such a beautifully destructive battlefield happening right at his doorstep.

Sarge: Look at this, Lopez. I've seen so much war with my two old eyes, but this takes the cake. What do you think? Lopez: Es una obra maestra de un demonio. Sarge: Hahaha! Now you said it. Though it's a shame I'm not there to be apart of it. But nevertheless, it's a good view to watch. Now I wonder what those three are doing out there. If I can guess, Grif could be sitting behind a rock, traumatized by Rose's handiwork. Hahaha!

Back at the Blue Base

Grif: We're going to DIE!!!

Precisely what Grif said. The battle seems hopeless for the Blues and their Red hostages. The Blues have started launching their counter-attack at the moving Warthog and it's rider. They have manage to land a few hits on the mad Red, but it did little to stop her due to how much she dodges in that thing like an annoying fly flying around a man's face. Tucker grabs his grenade and throws it at the driver. However, Ruby grabs the bomb before it hits her face and throws it straight back to Tucker. The Teal One, while surprised by the Red's reflexes, runs away before the grenade explodes mid-air above him.

Tucker: Wow, this girl is badass than Tex! A little help Church! Church?

Tucker turned to Church, currently trying to get into his cold dead body.

Tucker: Uh, Church, what the fuck are you doing? Church: What do you think I'm doing? I'm trying to get into my body! Now how did I get in there again? Tucker: Deal with that later! Just give us a hand here with your ghost powers! Church: And do what? Go out there and scare the pants out of that crazy bitch while saying "OOOOOOH, I'm the ghost of Christmas Past!". Yeah right. I don't even look scary! Tucker: Then why not... (bullet flies above him) WOAH, that was close!... possess her body and make her stop? Church: .... Oh, I kinda forgot I can still do that. Alright just wait here while you distract her. Tucker: On it. Hey, baby! I know I recently just knew you and you probably can't hear me from here. But if you do, how about I show you a couple of moves with my rifle's barrel and then we can... Church: Not that kind of distraction, dumbass!

GHOSTLY FADE OUT EFFECT, POP

Church teleports himself on the crater filled landscape. He looks around and spots the Red driving nearby about two meters from him. The Red stops the warthog and continues firing the rocket launcher with her left arm and the assault rifle with the other. This looks like a good oppurtunity to possess her.

Church: Alright you little bitch. I'll make you cement this entire base from top to bottom.

Church runs towards Ruby. She hasn't noticed him yet so that's good. As she kept firing those guns, Church enters her body and takes control of her. Finally the battle's over! Actually, it hasn't. Ruby is still attacking the Blue base! Tucker who had seen everything, was dumbfounded to see that Church's possession had little to no effect on her.

Tucker: What the... why is Church not controlling her?!?! Caboose: I think Church is trying out the body. Tucker: Hey Church, if it's really you, quit it! It's not funny!

Suddenly, Church screamed as he gets blasted out of Ruby's body like a catapult and falls right back into his body. Church finally back in his vessel, shot up and screamed as if he had a terrible nightmare. Caboose and Tucker took notice of their fully revived leader and rushes to him.

Tucker: Church, are you okay? Church:........ WOAHOHO!!! That bitch... is MAD! Tucker: What happened out there? Church: Okay I was going to take over her body right when I was in possession and man her body's quite thin and young. When all the sudden some bright angry force pushed me out off her! JESUS, she's more madder than O'Malley! Tucker: Well at least she doesn't make that annoying laugh all the time. Caboose: But that's not the only thing I experienced. I also saw her mind and I finally found out why she's attacking us. Tucker: Rescue Grif, Simmons and Donut? Church: No. Caboose: COOKIES! Church: Not CLOSE enough. Though I did saw a big cookie floating in her head. Tucker: Me? Church and Caboose:..... Tucker: Nah, I'm kidding! So what's she really for?

Church slowly turns his head. Tucker wonders what his leader's looking and turns to where his head's facing at. He's looking at Caboose, but not exactly 'at' the Blue, but at the big red rifle, Crescent Rose hanging behind his back.

Caboose: Is there something on my nose? Oh my God, I hate spiders! Tucker: Wait, the gun? Grif: What are you guys doing over there?! Stop Rose or something! Church: Give us a minute, fatass! That's right. Her main purpose her is the gun. Tucker: W-wha? How can a kidnapped gun turn a girl into a psychopathic killer? Church: Hey, I'm no psychologist! However, if we give the gun back to her, that might stop her rampage. Tucker: Hold on, let's not try handing it back to her like gentleman. Remember. She thinks we stole it, right? Church: And the point is? Tucker: If one of us give it to her, she'll still kill us! Church: Good point. Hmm. How about.... we use it to drive her away from the base like bait. Tucker: You think that'll work? Church: Don't know but it's worth a try. Man. And I thought I might be able to try it. Tucker: Sigh, no kidding. I didn't get the chance to shoot someone's ass with it. But's it's better than getting blown to smithereens. Church: Then that's a yes. Caboose, I'm sorry to say this but... Caboose: Okay. Church: You know... I kinda like cause you have no idea about what I just said. Caboose: Oh no it'd be nice for the gun to go back to its mommy. It's nice knowing you, Sheila II. Church: Now that all of us agreed, the question is, how do we get out of here? If we try moving it by foot, that psycho will run us down with that bike. Tucker: I don't think we have to move at all. Be right back!

Several 7.62mm FMJs and 102mm rockets later.

BOOOOM!!!

There goes another wall and a roll of duct tape. Tucker has fully wrapped both Donut's unconscious body and Crescent Rose together, as well as the proposition for Grif's and Simmon's s̶l̶a̶v̶e̶ ̶l̶a̶b̶o̶r̶ imprisoment to Sarge. The base is beginning to look real bad. Half the roof is gone and much of the interior has collapse. Whatever they're planning, they better do it quick.

Tucker: The way we saw how strong Caboose hit that grenade gave me an idea. If he swings and strike them hard enough, he might be able to launch them across the canyon to the Red base. Caboose: Yay, golf time! Tucker: That's exactly what I'm thinking. Once the babe sees her weapon flying with Donut, she'll be drawn to it. Church: If she sees her rifle that is. Simmons: What about Donut? Wouldn't he get hurt badly once he hits the ground? Grif: Simmons, may I remind that Donut survived an explosion to the face and got crushed by a falling pelican. Simmons: Oh I guess he'll be alright. But aside from baiting Rose, you sure Caboose can launch an object that far before? Tucker: You could've seen what he did to a golfball. Simmons: What happened to it?

BOOOOOM!!!

The explosion made the remind of their current situation.

Church: No time to explain that! Tucker, let's give Caboose some cover! Tucker: On it! Here Caboose, you'll need this.

Tucker gives Caboose a long pipe with a 90 degrees pipe elbow at the end similar to golf club.

Tucker: Remember how you launch that golfball to the sky? Caboose: Oh yeah, it flew right out of orbit and hit straight at our satellite. Then we didn't get an TV reception for a week and... Tucker: Yeah something like that but, just do it softly this time. Caboose: Aye aye, chief! Church: TUCKER! Tucker: Coming!

Tucker leaves Caboose to his job. Caboose then walks towards the duct tape wrapped unconsious Donut and rifle before standing next to them. He then positioned himself in the good old golf set up and places the end of the pipe next to the human sized makeshift ball. But before he could swing, Donut finally regains consciousness.

Donut: Ugh, what happened? Caboose: Hi, Donut! Donut: C-Caboose? What are you doing with that pipe and... why am I tied up in duct tape? And why is Crescent Rose tied up behind me? Caboose: Yeah we're suppose to drive the monster away from us by getting Sheila II with you out of here. Donut: Monster.... Sheila II?

Donut is completely confused until he looked around the devastation around him. He is shocked to see the Blue base in a complete wreck!

Donut: Holy bananas! You guys need some serious renovatons around here! Caboose: Oh don't worry, Simmons and Grif will be in charge on that.

A familiar mongoose engine from nearby caught his attention. He turned to see a familiar colored armor and cape riding on his team's ATV. It's Ruby, firing a rocket launcher and an assault rifle each in both her hands! Though why is her eyes glowing?

Donut: Is that Ruby? Caboose: Donut, would you help me with something? Donut: Uh yeah sure? Caboose: Would you kindly... posture yourself like how we did when we were in our moms' bellies. Donut: You mean fetal position?

Donut did what Caboose ordered him. He curved his back, bows his head and wraps both his legs with his arms.

Donut: Like this? What's the point in it? Caboose: I'm going to strike you like a golfball with this pipe and launch you back to your base. Donut: Wait... WHAAAAT?!?! Caboose: FOOOOOOORRREEE!!!

Caboose raises the pipe above him, swings it hard and strikes the poor pink Red (I mean 'lightish red') to the sky! Donut screams in both pain and terror as he flies through the sky like a human cannonball.

Donut: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!! Hey, I can see our base from here!

Meanwhile back on the ground, the blast off Donut caught Ruby's attention, briefly pausing her destruction. As if she had super sight, she spots a flat long red object strapped behind Donut. Crescent Rose. No doubt about it. Like a moth to a flame, she turns the mongoose around and follows the flying object. Back on the Blue's roof, everyone looked to witness the monster finally leaving their base alone.

Caboose: Bye, Sheila II! Welp, time to get the broom.

At the Red Base

Sarge: What in Sam Hill did I just saw, Lopez? It looked like something flew off from there! Lopez: Parece algo lanzado en su base.

Was Sarge imagining things or did he just saw the Blue hit something and launched it like a golfball. As his mind begins to process of what the hell happened, his ears caught something of what sounded like a familiar girly scream coming closer and closer from above him. He lowers his binoculars and looks up to see a ball of pink heading directly straight at him!

Donut: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!! Sarge: Aah fiddlesticks.

CRASH!!!

Sarge didn't had time to dodge the incoming projectile and the object lands directly on top of him. The crash while may look painful, Lopez nonetheless laughed upon seeing what has befallen upon his leader.

Lopez: LOL! Habla de un aterrizaje forzoso!

Some of his bones are broken, but he's been through worse. Sarge groaned in pain as he looks at the pink object now lying on top of him. To his surprise, it's none other than Pvt. Delano Donut tied up in duct tape with what seems to be Crescent Rose on his back. Wait, Crescent Rose is on his back, he thought!

Sarge: Good golly Miss Molly! You got Crescent Rose back! Donut: Oh hi, Sarge!

Both got up from each other as they push the dust all over them.

Sarge: Status report! What are doing tied up with Crescent Rose in duct tape? And where did those two go? Donut: I have no idea. I was firing the gun on the Blues with them driving, when all the sudden everything went black like something hit me on the head. Sarge: Yes, I can see why.

Unbeknownst to Donut, the grenade Caboose hit back is still stuck on his head. Sarge and Lopez just took notice of it.

Lopez: Sr. Sarge, ¿deberíamos estar preocupados por eso? Sarge: Yes tell us more. Donut: Well when I woke up, the first thing I heard were gunshots and explosions everywhere. POW! PEW! BANG! I learned I was tied up in duct tape with Crescent Rose here and the next thing I saw was Caboose standing above me holding a pipe. He then talked some monster attacking their base and driving it away. I think he was referring to Ruby for some reason, she was on the Mongoose with a... rocket launcher? Lopez: ¡Ya te lo dije! ¡Hijo de Mictlāntēcutli! Donut: After that, he told me to get into a fetal position and then, he striked me with the pipe like a golfball! Sarge: Well that explains everything. But at least we got Crescent Rose back. Though what I don't understand is what you mean't by 'driving it away'? Lopez: ¡¡¡JADEAR!!! ¿Podría ser?

Heavy footsteps caught all the three's attention. They slowly turned to Ruby ascending up the stairs as black aura flickers like flame all over her. She removes her helmet, revealing the same demonic face of burning bright eyes Lopez first saw half an hour ago. Sarge is recoiled by the sight of her and Donut, upon seeing Ruby in such a wrathful state, awed in horror at his teammate's horrying state. Ruby then focuses her monstrous eyes at one of them, Donut to be exact.

Ruby: Cre-Crescent....... Roooooossse? Donut: R-Rose? Are y-you okay? You looked like you could use some m-m-milk Lopez: ¡Donut, hablar con ello es inútil! Sarge: Donut, get it off your back. Donut: What? Sarge: I said get Crescent Rose off your back before she tears your poor soul APART!!!! Lopez: ¡DEMASIADO TARDE! ¡MIRA! Ruby: GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!

As if by instant, Ruby viciously lunges herself like a leopard to Donut.

Sarge: You're on your own! Lopez: Adios, Donut!

Sarge grabs Lopez's head and ducks into cover, however Donut was too shocked by the incoming terror that his body was too paralyzed to dodge her. The last thing he would see was the wild demonic face that is Ruby's as her hands are about to reach out to him like sharp claws! Oh the humanity!

Donut: OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!

Donut closes his eyes and braces himself for the horrifying pain. But instead of claws driving through his chest and his organs ripped off, all he felt was a gust of wind passing by. Confused, he slowly opened his eyes and sees Ruby not going to attack him but, happily bawling out while hugging Crescent Rose?!

Ruby: My Sweetheart!!!

Okay this is just too sudden, even for Master Chief's standards. Sarge and Lopez too were stupefy to see what the hell just happened, Lopez mostly. Donut on the other hand, is astonished by Ruby's cute renunion with her weapon.

Donut: Aww! Lopez: ¡¿Qué demonios acaba de pasar?! ¿Por qué no lo ha destrozado? Sarge: That's it? No mutilation, no spine ripping? That was the most disappointing fatality I have ever seen! Donut: But look how Rose going! Ruby: Imissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyouimissyou!

Ruby finally noticed the men looking at her. She stopped, realizing how awkward she was doing with her weapon like an immature kid. Wait, she is immature.

Ruby: Uuhm. Forget what you saw. Sarge: What in holy macaroon was that about that! Donut: For the moment there I thought you were going to rip me apart. Ruby: I'm sorry! I kinda lose control when it comes to stuff and family. Heehee! Sarge: And you caused a lot of mayhem for that? That's why you're my favourite markswoman. Lopez: ¿Pero sigues siendo el hijo de Mictlāntēcutli? Ruby: I'll translate what you said later, Lopez. By the way, Donut, where's Simmons and Grif? Weren't you with them just now? Donut: I was, until I got knocked out that is Sarge: Hmm, what's this?

Sarge rips off of what seems to be a piece of paper taped behind Donut written in blue ink. Everyone comes closer so see what it contains. It reads:

"Dear, Sarge of Red Team. I'm sure you have questions about your other two soldiers, but as you might already know we have taken them prisoners for some 'personal affairs'. But in exchange for them, we return back your other teammate and the weapon we stole from you. Once we're done with them, we can bring them back to you. Or if you're too impatient, be my guess, but just wait till we cement the whole place please! P.S. DON'T BRING THAT PSYCHOPATHIC RED IF YOU'RE GONNA RESCUE THEM!!!"- Love, Leonard L. Church.

Ruby: Oh no, we got to rescue them! Sarge: Nah, I'm sure they're fine. At least we got your weapon back. Ruby: Yeah but I'm now starting to feel sorry for them. Maybe we should rescue them- Sarge: Simmons might live through imprisonment, but Grif on the other hand... hehe... that's a completely different story. Ruby: Are you sure cause- EEEEP!!! DONUT, IS THAT A GRENADE ON YOUR HEAD? Donut: What?!

Ruby hands Donut a miniature mirror from her belt. He looked through the reflection and is shocked to see the grenade.

Sarge: Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. Donut, you got a grenade stuck to your head. And the pin's off Donut: PIN'S OFF?! AAAAAAHHHH!!! GET IT OFF ME, GET IT OFF ME, GET IT OFF ME! Sarge: Calm down, it hasn't exploded! Damn thing must've misfired. Now hold still while I... Ruby: WAIT! If we try pulling it out by hand, it could explode! Donut: OH NOHOHOOOO! Ruby: We should call, Command for help! Sarge: That'll take too long to get them here! What this boy need is a good old quick yank with this old paw. Donut: Wait, Sarge! SAAAARGE!!! Ruby: Oh boy.

Back at the Blue Base (again)

With that fiasco with the Red over. All that's left is to clean up the place before Weiss comes back. Tucker drops the last bag of cement on top of more piles of the stuff and tools to cement the whole base back to it's proper shape.

Tucker: Here you are. Enough stuff to fix this whole place up. Enjoy boys. Grif: Fuck you! Sigh. So, Simmons, how long do you think will this take to cement this place? Simmons: Well based on the calculated damage here, I'd say a whole week... non stop. Grif: ... DAMN, YOU ROSE!!!

The two idiots grab the stuff to get into working, while Church, Caboose and Tucker relaxed themselves on their UNSC issued beach chairs.

Tucker: Shouldn't we help them so this might speed this up? Church: After what we've been through today? Nah! Considered this a lesson learned for them. Tucker: Hmm, I guess so. Hey, servants! Make sure the walls are smooth like silk! Grif and Simmons: Auugh! Church: Hehehe! And as long as we make them work HARDER, this will be done before Schnee gets back.

As Church sip a drink through his helmet, his peace was interrupted by a loud and ear piercing...

Weiss: WHAT IN GOD'S NAME HAPPENED HERE!!!!!!!

The sudden scream made Church spew out his drink in his helmet (gross!). They Blues turned to the source and to their horror, Weiss is standing above the stairway with a shocked expression. Yep, she's back from Command.

Church: S-Schnee?!?! Tucker: Hey... eh... Schnee.... You're back early. Hehehe. Caboose: Hi, Weiss! How's your trip at Command?

Weiss slowly turned her head to the relaxing Blues. Her shocked turned to anger that they have never seen before. She gets closer to them as she grits her teeth, making the Blue's aside from Caboose, swallow their throats.

Weiss: CHURCH... TUCKER... CABOOSE... I was given an early leave after Command was done with me. While on the way, I expected nothing bad would happen while I was absent. However, I incidently come across a pile of rocks what was once our base while YOU DOPES RELAX ON YOUR CHAIRS AND SIP A GLASS OF LEMONADE?!?! YOU PIECES OF... Schnee remember, swearing is unladylike... gasp... YOU PIECES OF UNPROFESSIONAL TRASH!!! I HAVE NEVER SEEN SUCH MANNER HAS BEFALLEN ON OUR BASE AND YOU DID NOTHING... NOTHING!... TO PREVENT THIS FROM HAPPENING! WHERE I LIVE, WE DO IT IN A MORE FAST AND PRECISE WAY AGAINST THE ENEMY, NOT THE SLOW AND IMPRECISE WAY! AND WHAT IS THIS?! OUR COVERS FROM SNIPERS ARE DESTROYED, LEAVING ALL OF US INVUNERABLE ENEMY SNIPERS! DO YOU THINK WAR IS REALLY THAT SIMPLE? THIS IS- Ahem! This is unacceptable.

Weiss returns back to her calm demeanor after a lengthy speech of wrath upon her team. Despite her petite size, her voice mixed with her fury were so powerful that it feels like their souls were about to shatter like glass. And the look of her beautiful eyes turned to fury just now, was soul trembling. Church and Tucker were fully stunned by what happened, but as for Caboose? Still the same old oblivious Caboose.

Tucker: Talk about a girl with fire. Weiss: Moving to the matter at hand, what happened here? Church, Tucker and Caboose: Uhh... Weiss: ANSWER THE QUESTION! Church: Okay okay, 'Ms Drill Seargent', it's those idiots' fault! Grif: Hey, our girl did it, not us!

Church points Weiss to the men responsible for this mess, still cementing a once destroyed wall. Grif and Simmons. Both of them are surprised by this teammate for this is the first time they have met her.

Grif: Uhh... is she new here? Simmons: Kinda, I've never seen her face before. Church: Oh, I forgot you guys haven't met. Weiss, Grif. Weiss, Simmons. Grif, Weiss. Simmons, Grif. Grif: 'Sup. Simmons: Hello, nice to meet... GAH.

Simmons yelp when Weiss approaches them at a surprising speed. She didn't say anything to them yet, but examines as they also examine her. Although they haven't met her, their instincts are telling them to get out off this planet. She looked around the chaos and back at them.

Weiss: You two... did this? Grif: Yeah.. well no... NO! We didn't 'actually' wreck the base, we pressed our teammate's berserk button by framing your team they have her weapon but it went from bad to worse. Simmons: Shouldn't we explain it a lot more understandable?

Suddenly, a jolt of electricity smacked Simmons at the visor. His helmet protected him, but it stings like hell! Grif helped Simmons to get up before both of them look up to see what had just hit them. In Weiss' left hand is a whip, an electro whip. That was lucky for Simmons. If she had tune it to 'High' it would've killed him.

Weiss: You both will explain right after you two FINISH CEMENTING THAT WALL UNTIL A SINGLE CRACK IS GONE!!! AND IF YOU DO NOT FINISH IT BY THE END OF THE HOUR, I'LL SEND YOU BOTH STRAIGHT TO BLUE'S CORRECTIONAL FACILITY AS P.O.W.s! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?! Grif and Simmons: Yes, m-m-ma'am! Weiss: Good. And if you need any breaks, you are free to do so for five minutes. Now chop chop, boys!

Grif and Simmons rush back to their workplace and continue cementing as fast as before like loyal obedient servants. Church, Tucker and Caboose are amazed by what Weiss did and that whip she somehow got her hands on.

Tucker: When did she get that? Church: Wow. You might be fit emough to be a drill sergeant after all. Weiss: Thank you. I learned a thing or two from my sister. Tucker: Man, I would like to see your sister. Now if you'll excuse me, babe. We'll be there relaxing our asses and... Weiss: Hold it right there, I'm not done talking you dopes! Tucker: Sigh. What is it? Weiss: You need explain everything, I mean all of it, of what happened here! Church: What? Aren't you going to interrogate them later? Weiss: I need both parties' testimony. Unlike those prisoners here, you'll be writting in a formal documentation and submit it to me, ten thousand words. Church: Ten thousand words long?! Weiss: As well as indoor repairs. Tucker: Indoor repairs?! That will be those guys job too! Weiss: Consider this a punishment for your lack of caution here. UNLESS YOU WOULD LIKE ME TO CONTACT COMMAND ABOUT YOU AND GIVE SOME PROPER DISCIPLINE LIKE THOSE REDS! As a Sangheili said. "The more the workers, the more faster we can fix this place up." Tucker: Hold on, what about Caboose? What will he do? Weiss: While I'm in charge in making the prisoners work fast and their interrogation, his job is to keep them from escaping. Caboose: Yay! Church: What? That's not as bad as ours! Weiss: Ahem... Command? Church: Sigh. "Don't tell Sarge." they say. "We'll fix this place." they say. Grif : Hey, you forced us to fix this place!

Grif gets silenced by Weiss elctro whip again.

Weiss: KEEP WORKING, SCUM! Now off to writting you two! Caboose: See ya later guys! Church: Sigh, we should've let that Red kill us in the first place. Tucker: Not me. I'm planning to hook up with her once she cools down. Grif: Hey, Simmons? Simmons: Yeah? Girf: Telling the truth and get shot by Sarge would've been a lot more merciful than this. Simmons: *Sob*! Yeah, it should have.

Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/necroceph

#ruby rose #rooster teeth #monty oum #Red vs Blue #franklin delano donut #rvb sarge #dexter grif #simmons rvb #weiss schnee #rwby

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cookiedoughmeagain · 5 years

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Haven DVD Commentaries; 3.12 - Reunion

Commentary with Gabrielle Stanton (writer for the episode) and Brian Millikin (on set for filming)

GS discusses how sad it is that Claire is dead: Audrey liked Claire quite a bit and it was really sad killing that character; a really fun character. BM: It was sad because we created her to die. We knew that she was going to die at this exact part of the season. GS: She did a great job in this scene. BM: I actually really like Evil Claire. I’m sad that we didn’t get to use more Evil Claire.

BM: This was the very first scene that was shot for this episode [As Claire has a gun to the back of Audrey’s head] because we had shot what this scene follows in episode 11 the night before. So they left everything as it was so we could shoot this.

GS: So we realised this season that Nathan’s preferred manner of entry is to shoot the lock off a door. BM: He does it again later in this episode and I think several times this season. GS: I think next season, he’s not even going to check if it’s locked. He’s just going to shoot it. BM: I just would love to see an episode where we’re just in a room just talking and suddenly ‘bam’ and then Nathan flies in just… GS: … just like, Hey who wants coffee?

BM: This episode is where we really start to say ‘the barn’ at least every other line. GS: If someone tries to make this and the next epsiode into a drinking game around that, they will not make it through the episode.

BM [As we see the guy running into the gym and hiding under the bleachers]: I should say, this was an incredibly difficult scene for us to shoot. GS: I was amazed they found those telescopic bleachers. When I wrote it I was worried we’d never find it. BM: Well, the didn’t work as well as you might think that they would. What you can’t see here is that just off screen there is an army of grips, PAs, myself, everyone we could get, pushing them. They weighed about seven million pounds and wouldn’t go anywhere. GS: Well you guys did a great job because that looked very scary.

BM: We shoot a lot at an elementary school that’s near our sound stages, but this was actually a high school that’s about ten minutes outside of town, where a lot of our crew had gone to high school. So up and down the walls, actually just outside of this gymnasium, are the class photos and prom photos for a lot of the crew.

GS: I love the idea of high school reunions because they are great and awful all at the same time. And we thought wouldn’t it be fun to see a little window into Nathan that we don’t normally get to see. Although I can’t really see him having been friends with any of those people. But I think we decided he was probably a bit of a loner as a kid anyway. BM: You can see from the reunion sign there that we were very careful not to say which class they were actually in, or what year this is taking place. Because when we figured out the timelines we realised this would be like their 17th year reunion. GS: Which is kind of an odd year for a reunion. But then Haven always does things a little differently. BM: But I think the reunion idea works well as well because we wanted Nathan and Audrey to have this little special moment, so there was the idea of, What if they danced together?

[As Duke asks the others where Claire is, there is another comment that it’s sad she’s dead] BM: It might have been nice to mourn her a bit longer GS: There’s no time! Things move quickly in Haven.

BM: But what they’re doing here [with the facial composite that show’s them Arla] is super-exciting because this was one of the first ideas we had for the season. GS: With the skinwalker arc, this season is kind of the first season that we’ve had an overall bad guy to run through the entire season. BM: A big bad. GS: A big bad, so to speak; in Buffy parlance. BM: And we always had this idea of the stiched face. GS: I thought that morph [where Arla puts the face on] worked out great. BM: It did. She actually had a body double who was actually in the make-up to make it look like she had no face, and they both took turns putting that mask on and then they merged it all together. GS: We kind of knew what it was going to look like because Nick Parker, our intrepid writers assistant, is also an excellent artist and drew this representation of how it would look, and we actually have it on the wall in our writers’ room. BM: That is something that we should have put on the DVD.

BM: But this was so exciting because we had been waiting all year to get to the Arla Cogan reveal. We even seeded it back in episode 7 in the wedding photo they found in Colorado. And also seeded back into episode one with the kidnappers voice telling Audrey she wasn’t the only one who loved the Colorado Kid. And in fact I think the reason her name is Arla is because the name was Arla in the book, right? GS: It was. The Colorado Kid’s wife in the book was named Arla. We thought that would be nice for fans who had read the book, to do a little call-back. And actually when you think about it, getting back to the Colorado Kid this season was kind of exciting too because it’s the premise the whole series is based on. And we’d moved away from it for a while, but he’s always there in the background. BM: Yeah we hadn’t touched on it much in the second season so I think that was the goal for this season.

GS: I thought this actress [Jeanine] was great; I loved this character. This was fun to do someone who has a Trouble that is not something you’re going to build a whole episode around, but just kind of a fun Trouble. Because not everyone can have a shoot-lightning-bolts-out-of-my-fingers Trouble. BM: I like that she hits on Duke in this scene. GS: I like that big fruity drink. I can’t imagine that being something that Duke would normally serve. BM: This is a good time to mention the director for this episode, as her name comes up on screen, Lee Rose who has done a number of episodes for us. GS: Yep, she is always fantastic. As we are doing this commentary we are shooting season 4 and she just finished an episode for us.

GS: So this is the first time that any of our characters actually talk to the real Arla. BM: He’s surprised that she looks like Supergirl. She is actually Laura Vandervoort, who is one of the nicest people on the planet by the way. GS: She was great. Because it can be fun but also very hard to play the villan. BM: She was good. And she totally got it. I don’t think she had played many villans before, so I think she was excited about that. And that this wasn’t a typical psychopath because … GS: … she is doing it all for love.

GS: That actually looks like it’s sunny out there. Or is that just lighting. BM: It was - this was late august, which is one of the brief periods of time when it’s not raining in Chester, Nova Scotia. All the crew were in shorts and t-shirts and would go swimming in between setups.

BM [As Laura and Duke are talking at the table in the Gull]: This is an example of how great Laura was and how excited we were to have her. I think it’s a common thing that when you’re not on camera [or only the back of your head is] that you often don’t act quite as much. But she would do it every time. And I remember at one point someone said to her; You know you can take it easy, you don’t have to go for it when you’re not even on screen. But she was like, No I’m doing this. GS: Yeah it’s true because that gives the actor they’re playing with so much more to work with. If someone’s just sitting there phoning it in, it’s really hard to give the best performance you can give. GS: So here Arla is trying to create an unholy deal with Duke. And as we know, Duke can be a shady character, we’re not always sure what he’s going to do. BM: That’s true, and this was a big deal set-up because we play this again in a big way in the season finale, when we’re not quite sure what Duke’s going to do.

BM: This was a big deal episode for Vince and Dave too in that they thrust themselves into the middle of the investigation and we get to see them out and about. With a gun! They werre pretty excited about that. They were actually a bit too excited, Richard and John the two actors. But in the same way when they got to be tortured earlier this season; they were excited about it. BM: While Laura Vandervoort might be the nicest woman on the planet, Adam Copeland is the nicest man on the planet. GS: Absolutely. BM: And this episode he said he realised that something about his role in this episode, he was like; I just come in and tell someone something they need to know about the Guard - and then I leave. Which wasn’t necessarily true but it was because we ended up cutting out another scene.

BM: [As we see Denise lying in the pool of oil from the deep fat fryer] That was actually not real grease. It was some clear plastic that they had to lay down on the floor because they weren’t allowed to spill something there. It was just this one solid piece that they clicked this poor actress into. It was pretty hardcore. And it’s not actually really a kitchen either, it’s a kitchnette in the corner of this room, because the actual kitchen in the shool was too small to shoot in. GS: It’s funny you say that about the grease because when Matt McGuinness and I were doing the commentary for 3.04, when the guy was bleeding out we were commenting that there wasn’t as much blood as we remembered, and now that you say that I remember it was because we were leasing someone’s house to do the shot and we couldn’t put too much ‘blood’ on the concrete because it would soak in and stain it. All these little production things you never think about when you’re watching TV.

BM: That was an important conversation [between Audrey and Nathan in the kitchen] that we just talked through I think. Because we had to justify why they were still investigating this case when Audrey is about to go away in a day or two. So she had to tell him that this is actually what she wants to do. GS: She wants to work. She wants to help people. Audrey’s thing is always; My job is to help the Troubled, so I think she would do that up to the very last minute she was in Haven. BM: And I feel like this one [about not cancelling the dance] was also a super-controversial conversation because they decide to go through with the reunion despite the fact that two people have died. GS: Yeah, but I think we did justify it, because if the killer is after people going to the dance, then … BM: We’re using them as bait. GS: Yeah, basically. BM: We’re endangering the lives of everybody. GS: But it is the only way to draw out the killer. And it is also high-stakes for Nathan because he was a classmate. And I think that’s another reason Audrey stayed with the investigation because she was afraid they would go after Nathan.

[As we see Duke walk up to the locker by the water] BM: This was super-exciting because we had one shot at this. Because as soon as he goes in the water, his hair is going to be wet and we can’t do another take. We had one take. So we had to rehearse, and with the position where Teen Duke comes up in the water so that he comes up in the exact right spot. GS: So did Eric have a wetsuit or anything on under his clothes? BM: No. GS: Good for him! BM: I know. Method actor. Also a really great guy. GS: And no snake was harmed in the making of this show.

[About Nathan’s yearbook photo] BM: By the way, that is a real photo of Lucas Bryant as a kid. GS: Really? BM: I thought for months that he was pulling one on us. But it was really him.

[About the Teen!Duke actor] GS: I thought this guy did a fanatstic job. I totally bought it BM: He was great. GS: And if it hadn’t been episode 12 or whatever, couldn’t you see like two or three episodes where we just had a young Duke walking around. BM: Maybe we could bring him back. Some sort of time travel thing. GS: Oh that’s cool. BM: When we cast him he’d never met Eric before, but they spent like half an hour together, and Eric showed him some of Duke’s mannerisms. GS: Yeah I talked to Eric about that. He called me to suggest it and it was a fantastic idea. It was so nice of him. And it helped to get the mannerisms, the body language, to get the speech patterns right - it really made a huge difference. BM: But there was one huge crisis. We were sending people all over the peninsula of Nova Scotia. Because that time when he and Eric first met each other was a Friday (having cast Jake as Teen Duke earlier that week) and we were due to start shooting on the Monday. And Eric was the one who noticed this, he was like; “Jake’s great, it’s going to be great - one problem; our eyes are not the same colour at all”. Jake’s eyes are not the brown colour that Eric’s are. And so everyone decided that we needed to get contact lenses. And we needed to do it fast and the problem was that it was already 6pm on a Friday and everywhere was closed. So it was a case of telling everyone on the crew to stop what they’re doing and asking if they know an optometrist. And someone’s best friend’s college roommate’s dentist worked at a glasses store once or something, and so they got into this place on the Saturday afternoon to get Jake fitted for contact lenses. And Jake had never worn contact lenses before. And they got made and arrived on Monday only a couple hours late so we had at first to shoot not on his eyes. It was pretty crazy; we almost had to stop production. Or we would have had to VFX it in afterwards. GS: Yeah, paint his eyes in in post - that would have been a nightmare.

[As Jeanine tells Nathan about her Trouble} GS: I love this scene. I love the cake of it all. And yes, part of me wishes I had that Trouble. BM: But it’s what you were saying; we have so many Troubles that we would love to do, but we can’t because … GS: Because they’re fun or silly, or not big enough or not stakesy enough, or we can’t get enough story out of it. BM: Well can we spoil some of those, that we know we’re never going to use? What about the guy who is always feeling light-headed, or seasonal disorder guy …. GS: Wait wait wait - how do you know we’re never going to do that? What, who is seasonal disorder guy? BM: Well I can’t tell you now. Or what about starfish-hands. GS: Oh yeah that I think we will probably never do; the Trouble where all of a sudden someone’s hands turn into starfish. In the writers’ room when we need a temporary curse, that’s our go-to; starfish hands.

BM: I love that Jeanine and Robert end up together at the end, but do you think that they’re just going to eat a lot of cake for the rest of their lives? GS: Well, my thinking of it was that once she actually cut into her own wedding cake, that her Trouble would go away. BM: How did we not get that concept in here? GS: That’s for the sequel.

[As Nathan talks to Teen Duke] BM: This is one of my favourite scenes, because like you wrote in the script, there’s this idea that they start to fall into their old high school pitter-patter of talking and the speed they’re going back and forth. They were great, they got super into it. They got a little too into it and Lee had to tell them that we couldn’t understand what they were saying any more.

GS: Ah, the Teagues! I like that they both have these old Clint Eastwood revolvers. BM: And coming up here is a stunt that Richard Donat had to pull off where he gets clubbed over the head by Dave at the end of the scene. He really did it; there was a mat on the floor for him to fall onto. People were a little concerned, not so much about the fall but because John Dunsworth, who plays Dave, was hitting him with such reckless abandon, with the prop which I think is supposed to be a brass vase, and is made of rubber but is still pretty tough. There, like I’m not sure that was a fake sound effect. But Richard was fine. GS: I thought that moment was fun because I don’t think, hopefully, that anyone saw it coming. BM: No. And we paid this scene off in season 4. GS: We do!

[As Jeanine demonstrates her Trouble] BM: This was very tough to shoot. We had to replace the plate in her hand; she had to stand there holding plates of first carrots and then cake for like 20 minutes.

GS: Audrey looks great when we dress her up.

BM: We filmed too versions of this [where Audrey asks Nathan to dance] and this is the more romantic version where he holds out his hand to her, and I’m really glad this is the one we went with. GS: And that line there was a callback to what Sarah said to Nathan, which is the final decision-making thing for him to go dance with her. BM: Great callback BM: You remember how much we had to go through to get this song? To find a song that worked and that we could get cleared to use. We listened to song after song after song. GS: Yes, we listened to a lot of mid-nineties dance songs here in the writers’ room.

[As we see Robert talking to two others in the corridor] BM: These guys were great. And one of the reasons they were so great together is that all of these actors had worked together in a bunch of plays in Toronto. So they had an instant raport.

BM: You’re about to see one other surprise we had which is that the kid who play Robbie was great, but was also ever so slightly taller than Robert. GS: Ah no one noticed.

BM: This was shot in the actual boiler room of the school. GS: This is much bigger and brighter room than I had pictured. BM: And so this boiler that shoots her in the face, we built ourselves. It was all cardboard.

GS: It would have been fun if Audrey wasn’t immune to the Troubles. We tried to figure out some way that she would turn into a teenager because we thought that would be so fun. But it was not possible. BM: Sometimes the immunity really helps us and sometimes it really hurts us.

BM: There was some controversy as we shot this [the injured Robert lying on the floor] because originally he was on a stretcher, and the EMTs were there, and then someone realised that would mean the EMTs would have to be in on the Troubles because they were going to see all this stuff happening. So that’s why he’s just on the floor here. GS: Oh good point. Although, let’s be honest, the EMTs in Haven have probably seen a lot of stuff.

[As Jeanine is talking to the injured Robert] BM: Ah this is really touching. GS: Yeah I liked this story. Finding true love after all this time.

GS: We spent a long time trying to work out a specific soda, because some of the initial suggestions we then realised hadn’t come out yet in the 80s.

[As Duke turns back to normal] BM: They were very careful there; he was wearing the exact same size wardrobe so that his clothes didn’t change when he did. GS: Yeah I remember we had a lot of wardrobe talks about how that was going to work. BM: And about this scene too [Audrey, Nathan and Duke talking in the Gull] because they’ve all changed clothes. And this obviously is going to be the wardrobe that they are wearing throughout the next episode. GS: Right because there is a lot of running around in the next episode, and so the question was, do we want Audrey in a cocktail dress to have to do everything she has to do in the next episode? BM: And also this is the last moment of calm before the storm so this scene was really heavily scrutinised. Like, what are you going to do if it’s your last night on earth? Like, maybe they would just stay and hangout; play board games. GS: That’s not what I would do on my last night on earth. BM: But they would also want to try and do anything they could to help Audrey.

GS: This was tricky because we don’t do a lot of direct pick-up episodes that are back-to-back time-wise. But this was 11, 12, and 13. And that’s part of what you were talking about earlier, about how we can’t really talk about when the reunion was, because sometimes 9 months will go by when the show is airing but maybe only 5 or 6 days has actually happened across those episodes. BM: Yeah, and there’s almost no time between 10 and 11 also. Which was why we always had to plan from the start of the season how long it was going to be until we got to the Hunter meteor storm. So we had the big board and the season mapped out with the number of days, and we had to keep changing it to make the dates line up. GS: Writers don’t like doing math. We did a lot of math on this season. And if we got any of it wrong, don’t send a letter.

[As Audrey finds Arla in her apartment] GS: This was a tricky scene for them because it was very long, a lot of exposition going on here. And it had the potential to drag. But I don’t think it did. BM: It was a four or five page scene and it’s almost all Arla talking, which is pretty hard to do. This was Laura’s first scene that she shot; we did Claire’s last scene, and then Nathan showed up, and then we did this. She never autioned for the role because she’s a very successful actress so we just asked her if she would do it. So she came in, no one really knew how it was going to go, we were a bit behind that day so there wasn’t any time to even rehearse. So, we shot the first rehearsal and - everyone applauded. She got every single line right, every single word right, and she was phenomenal. I think Emily might have actually hugged her. People were high fiving each other. GS: It’s not easy. I think one of the hardest things for guest actors coming into a series especially is that you’re shooting everything out of order. So, coming in, your first day; you get off the plane, someone puts you in wardrobe, sends you to the set and this is the first scene you have to do. That seems a little daunting. BM: Yeah. And she was struggling even with the hair extensions they put her in. That’s not all her real hair. And she said that every single thing she’s ever done, the first thing anyone ever does is just staple a ton of hair on top of her head. GS: This story of Arla’s Trouble is horrible. But we purposefully constructed it so that, she’s done all these terrible things but you hear the story behind it and you feel a bit sorry for her. BM: Yeah and we had had this in mind since before the season started. We had always been working towards this. And that she would blame Lucy, that she would mistakenly believe that it was all Lucy’s fault. GS: And she has good reason to believe that. BM: Absolutely.

BM: Laura came up to me right before her first take to ask about the scene. And I wasn’t surprised because it’s this 6 page scene and this crazy story, so I was like; Anything, what do you need? And she was like, “It’s just this one line.” So I thought this was going to be a problem because we had carefully parsed out all these details through this scene. But her point was that Arla referred to James and said she loved him, and Laura said she thought Arla would say “love him” because she’s crazy and she still loves him and thinks that he’s out there. And I almost started crying, I was like “You’re my favourite person on the planet.”

GS: The other thing here is that although that is obviously a prop gun and hollowed out, those are heavy. To hold that up for this whole scene. BM: She was great. GS: The best villans are the ones where you can see their point of view. You don’t agree with it, but you can see where they’re coming from.

GS: I love that effect where the barn appears! And every time you see Howard, you know that something huge is going to happen.

GS & BM: Thanks for listening!

#haven syfy #haven dvd commentaries #3.12 - Reunion

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britesparc · 3 years

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Weekend Top Ten #499

Top Ten Everything Ever

Four hundred and ninety-nine. That’s how many weeks I’ve been doing this four. Four hundred and ninety-nine.

Next week is the big five-oh-oh and I’m doing something typically stupid, but I wanted to make it a real celebration. That means for the next three weeks you’re going to get some rather meaningful and special Tops Ten; lists that have been long in the making, or that are just bonkers-level awkward for me to do. Like this one.

I mean, I’ve ranked films, games, fictional guns, and robots that made me cry. How much longer can I do this for? How many more weeks am I going to put myself through this?

Give me a barrel with bottom unscrap’d.

There’s nowhere to go but up, ladies and germs, and so I present to you the list to end all lists. The most definitive list possible. A list of everything. A list of my favourite things in all of time and space. A list of the official best things ever.

I mean, what more is there to say? This covers everything. I’ve tried to avoid it being really specific to one film or one person. And, of course, it doesn’t include people I know in real life, or events that have happened to me. These are, in their own way, big, sweeping things; film series, franchises, bands, stories that have in their own way changed my life. Just the greatest things I’ve come across in my nearly 40 years on this planet.

And you can’t say fairer than that.

The Transformers comic: this should be obvious to anyone who knows me well, but there’s no greater influence in my life, in terms of storytelling or entertainment, than Transformers. And of all the variants branching off from the Prime Timeline (pun very much intended), it’s the comic that’s greatest. Whether it’s the melodrama of Simon Furman or the intricate plotting of James Roberts, I’ve been addicted to the Transformers comic for the vast majority of my life. It has fundamentally shaped how I consume fiction and the sorts of things I’m into. It’s also really changed how I write, and, in fact, the original Marvel run is at least partly responsible for the fact that I write at all. I drew Transformers comics as a kid. I planned out elaborate multi-issue arcs before I was a teenager. I wrote detailed synopses and snatches of scripts for Transformers movies that would never be made. And I robbed, wholesale, motifs and lines of dialogue for the original books and comics I was working on too. It changed my life. It’s not hyperbole to say Transformers is the single biggest piece of fiction I’ve ever touched. Till all are one indeed.

The films of Steven Spielberg, 1975-1982: Spielberg is my favourite filmmaker, but it felt a bit weird to just say “Steven!” as one of the entries here. So instead I’ve decided to hone in on his early career, despite the fact that knocks out one of the biggest influences of my life, Jurassic Park. But everything I love about Spielberg is in these movies. His skill with a camera, his love of light, his great eye for casting, his way with actors; I mean, Close Encounters, which I probably first saw aged about twelve, is just a microcosm of all my interests in my teens: aliens, government conspiracies, determined men going on a crazed quest, and above all a pervasive sense of hope and optimism. Spielberg’s craft is exemplary, but that’s also true of many of his peers. His flair for action scenes and love of spectacle is entertaining, but there are many directors of whom you could say the same. What I love about him – what keeps bringing me back to him – is his warmth and optimism, his belief in the best of us. Even in his darkest movies, in Schindler’s List and A.I. and Munich (which has one of the bleakest endings of his career), there’s still joy and warmth and something worthwhile and wholesome to fight for. And whilst Raiders is a thrill-ride and E.T. an emotional tour-de-force, all of his preoccupations are encapsulated in Jaws, a tense horror film, a buddy-comedy, an entertaining rollercoaster, an acting masterclass. But it’s still Jurassic Park that made me want to make a movie.

The Marvel Cinematic Universe: so when I was a kid I was reading Transformers and Ghostbusters and other Marvel-published adaptations, but not really any actual Marvel comics. However, as a result, I became very loosely familiar with who Iron Man and Doctor Strange were (and Spidey of course) through references and back-up strips, and that time Death’s Head fought Tony’s nephew Arno Stark. No, when I started reading “proper” comics – mainstream superhero stuff – it was DC. I loved Batman, so I bought Batman, and that was a gateway to the rest of the DCU. However, despite the successes of the various DC movie adaptations, it’s the MCU that really, really got its hooks into me. For one, they’re really good adaptations, well-cast, with some great set-pieces. But the interconnected stuff is what really sings. Not just the characters popping up in each others’ movies, or even the overall arc leading up the crossover events; no, it was the actual shared-ness of it, the way the destruction of SHIELD had an impact, or the Sokovia Accords, or Asgard, Skrulls, magic… everything has an impact, an effect. And sure, it’s incredibly good fun to follow the breadcrumbs and try to work out where things are heading. As we enter a new phase – literally and figuratively – I just can’t wait to find out what’s next.

Grant Morrison’s Batman: talking about interconnectivity, no one does it better – or weirder – than Morrison. His Batman arc – and I’m referring to the character not the title, as it spans multiple series and even, arguably, includes work he did on JLA years earlier – is a web of connected theories, images, themes, events, and references. What does the Zur-En-Arrh graffiti in Gotham mean, not just in the here-and-now, but also as a long-standing reference to decades of Batman’s past? The anticipation of uncovering the next breadcrumb, the excitement of deciphering the next reference; it was long-form storytelling as a form of existential theatre, and it was sublime. But he also did two things that have utterly changed my view of the character. On the meta level, he presented a Batman where everything was canon; the grim thirties Shadow-inspired vigilante, the goofy fifties space adventures, the hairy-chested love-god of the seventies… it all happened to one man over a span of about 15-20 years. Fair enough; that’s cool storytelling. But his idea that Batman was not a miserable, psychopathic loner, that he was not insane or struggling to cope or still traumatised by his parents’ death, that Bruce Wayne was a nice guy with friends and family, who’d used his pain as a weapon, who’d gotten past his rage and grief and turned all the negative stuff outwards. Batman was what was built from all that, and Batman allowed Bruce to grow. And what did he do? He found other lost children and saved their lives, allowing Dick Grayson to take over. Batman is a force for good, in a similar way to Superman in Morrison’s All-Star book, making people better by association. And his confrontation with Darkseid in Final Crisis is extraordinary; brilliant as-is, as a piece of comicbook badassery on the page, but the metatextual resonance it’s given – Batman as a good man versus the font of all evil, David versus Goliath, Theseus and the Minotaur – is brilliant. How it ties in to Morrison’s wider Bat-epic, the whole Black Glove stuff and the devil and time travel and the myth of Batman’s creation and all of it… and just the simple thing of Batman’s last act being shooting the embodiment of evil, saving a human life, and then saying “Gotcha,” before dying, is perfect. Perfect.

The Secret of Monkey Island and Monkey Island 2: LeChuck’s Revenge: when I was little, I played Spectrum and C64 games at my cousins’ house. Then I got an Amiga – I think maybe I was ten? – and I started playing Amiga games. And it was fun and all, but then I read a review in Amiga Action, and my life changed. It was something called an “adventure game”, and it let you walk around chatting to people and interacting with the world, with great big colourful graphics and characters whose mouths moved when they spoke. And then I played it. My love of the medium and its possibilities was cemented then; and, fittingly, it was through the wordy, hilarious dialogue and comedy antics of a wannabe pirate who may, or may not, be selling these fine leather jackets. It’s not overstating things that my gaming tastes were defined by this game and its technically superior sequel. The quirky set-pieces, the weird puzzles, the playing with form (like when you “die” in Monkey 2), and the smart use of Lucasfilm in-jokery. The first game’s “How to Get Ahead in Navigating” gag/puzzle will live with me forever, as will the second game’s bonkers, nightmarish, beautifully constructed ending. As good as they were, none of the subsequent games could hold a candle to it, especially as the whole aesthetic changed into something much more cartoony. But these two? They’re my Big Whoop.

Star Wars: I imagine I know a lot of people in real life who would be surprised – nay, astounded – that I would list my ten favourite Things of all time, and yet Star Wars would not manage to break the Top Five. That’s because that as much as I love Star Wars – and I do, I really do – it didn’t hit me, didn’t speak to me, apart from one brief and weird moment in my late teens. It was games that made me fall in love, I think; games and toys. And, I have to confess, it was the prequels; the intricate digital visions of gleaming cities and impossibly acrobatic Jedi. I love the goofiness and ultra-seriousness of Lucas’ vision, sadly muddled now by the earthy chaos of the sequels. Star Wars is cool; for a while, it defined my idea of cool in cinema. An exciting sci-fi reimagining of ancient and endless myths, a confusing smorgasbord of weird stories and arcane philosophy. Plus spaceships and rapscallions and laser swords. So yes: whilst it was never my faith, so to speak, it’s still one of the coolest and most original pieces of fiction in my lifetime, and to this day there are very few things at all that I find more exciting and evocative than the thought of a Jedi pirouetting through the air with their ‘saber lit.

Middle-Earth, in print and film: one of my most vivid memories of childhood is my mum reading me The Hobbit (and also Macbeth, funnily enough). Then I bought myself my own copy, read it as a kid, read it again as a teenager, wrote (aged about 12 or 13) a sequel in which Gollum comes back to reclaim the ring. I remain to this day baffled that my teacher did not think to tell me that there actually was a sequel to The Hobbit. Eventually I did hear about it, watched the Ralph Bakshi version, and – when I read in Empire that it was gonna be a film and Sean Connery, of all people, was gonna be Gandalf – I thought it best to take the plunge. And I adored it. whilst there’s something about the lyrical simplicity of The Hobbit that I prefer, the depth and scope of The Lord of the Rings – and Tolkien’s subsequent, more disparate writing – that moves me on a profound level. It’s not just the epic nature of the work – the story itself, with its grandiose tales of heroism and adventure – but the sheer balls of the man to make such a thing, to craft wholesale an entire mythological ecosystem. And then the films! I can’t believe they managed to do that; it was pure lightning in a bottle, and we know that because they didn’t quite manage to do it a second time with the Hobbit movies. But all those glorious moments: “Fly, you fools”, “For Frodo”, “I can carry you”, “Go away and never come back” – bloody hell.

Empire magazine: it feels a bit weird, for some reason, citing a magazine as a Favourite Thing. It’s a magazine, a periodical, a journal; it tells you the news and recommends films. it’s not supposed to be part of the culture, part of the fabric of one’s being. But whilst you could debate whether criticism itself is culture, Empire definitely has a culture. It’s a club, nay, a family; something that has been entrenched in recent years through its podcasts and live shows. But for me it began as an education. I started reading it, really, to find out more about Jurassic Park (there we are again, the secret eleventh part of this list). But it went on, showing me more films and filmmakers, introducing me to esoteric industry concepts, broadening my horizons. I always liked film, but Empire made me love film. It reflected my tastes but then it enriched them, codified them, offered me new flavours. It was the first magazine to put Lord of the Rings on the cover; it celebrates Spielberg and the MCU; it had articles about The Greasy Strangler, for goodness’ sake. So much of what I love about film I learned from Empire over the last (nearly) thirty years, and so much of what I love about Empire now is because of what I learned. Bangily-bang.

Traveller’s Tales’ LEGO games: the games that did not make this list, I don’t know. Halo; man, I love Halo. Or what about classics like Lemmings, Worms, or SWOS? What about Mass Effect, Deus Ex, or Fable? What about Mario Kart, what about Civilization? They all deserved a place, really. But there’s something esoteric, timeless even, about the heights of the LEGO games. I remember playing a demo – on the first Xbox, I think – of the first LEGO Star Wars, and being blown away by the fact that, well, it was good. When the games started coming out on the 360 – Star Wars II, Batman, Indiana Jones – I was in the gloriously fortunate position of getting a lot of them for free at CITV, and I devoured them. The simple mechanics, the generous, forgiving gameplay, the satisfying tactile feel of smashing objects and collecting studs. There was something just so rewarding about playing them. And the fan-service! Giving you all those beloved characters, all those worlds, all those genuinely funny in-jokes, references, and cut-scenes. Plus they’re great to play with kids. Time went on, some games were better than others; I feel they reached their peak with the first LEGO Marvel Super-Heroes game, presenting us with an open world New York to play in and a collection of comic book characters that fitted the gameplay perfectly. Subsequent games have either put new restrictions on play, or given us more complicated stories and mechanics, or – really – just over-egged the pudding slightly. I’m really, really optimistic and excited for The Skywalker Saga, long overdue, and promising something of an overhaul. it began, really, with Star Wars; and I feel with Star Wars they’ll have their greatest hour.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds: fun fact: finding the tenth spot on these lists is very hard. How about a brand I love, like Xbox, or the BBC, or even Disney? Or another writer or director – what about Aaron Sorkin? Or a TV show – Doctor Who, perhaps, or Star Trek? Or how about, oh I dunno, Shakespeare? I like him. But I’ve not talked about music, so let’s do that; we’ll go out on a number. I’m not a musical person; I didn’t grow up frequenting record shops or listening to mix tapes in my room. I liked songs, but mostly I came to music through film. That was even true with Nick Cave, who I first heard in an episode of The X-Files, and read about in the X-Files magazine. But he remains one of the few artists, The Bad Seeds one of the few bands, that I continue to seek out and listen to regularly (rather than just saying “Alexa, play nineties rock”). I love the different styles, from the distorted noise of the early, post-Birthday Party years through the sombre melodies of Nocturama. I love Cave’s lyricism; his evocation of myth, his use of imagery. I love how he manages to get phrases like “morally culpable” into a song. I love the humour as well as the tragedy, the references to things both real and mythological, the sadness and eloquence of it all. I love how so many of his songs are about sex but are also really moving and meaningful; how much of the music is infused with pain and sorrow but is also uplifting. The horrible evocations of Cave’s own abuse in Do You Love Me, through to the references to his son’s death in Girl in Amber. I love Cave’s voice. I don’t know if this has come through in this list, but something I really like is stuff that makes me cry but isn’t necessarily sad. I cry when I read Sandman, when he wins the Oldest Game by challenging the end of everything by becoming “hope”; I cry when Donna tells Josh, “if you were in the hospital I wouldn’t stop for red lights”; I cry when Steve Rogers jumps on that dummy grenade. I think it’s hope and heroism and love. And that’s something that I get constantly, mainlined, intravenous, from Nick Cave. As Morgan Freeman says in Seven, “The world is a fine place and worth fighting for – I agree with the second part.”

God, there’s so much stuff not listed here. So many things I love that I feel are core; no Pixar, no West Wing, no other filmmakers cited, really, apart from Spielberg. But ten’s not a big number, and I contain multitudes.

Thanks for reading.

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Once Upon a Time in America Is a Movie That Can Never Be Too Long

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Sergio Leone’s Once Upon a Time in America is as epic as The Godfather, gorier than Goodfellas, and as streetwise as Mean Streets. It tells a full history, from childhood to old age, street hustles to political suicides, community toilets to opium dens. The version which is right now available on Netflix has been amazingly restored by Italy’s Bologna Cinematheque L’Immagine Ritrovata lab. I don’t think I have ever seen the film so clear, and it is a perennial to me, as is The Godfather.

It’s true, even the most devoted gangster fan and cinephile doesn’t watch Once Upon a Time in America as often as The Godfather, and it’s got Robert De Niro at his most gangta. For one thing, Leone’s film has never been as accessible. It is not shown regularly on any kind of broadcast channel, and even the film’s own producers thought it was too long for people to sit through. Pop culture history makes it sound like Once Upon a Time in America had a short version that ran 10 hours and a long version that ran a week.

How Long is Too Long for Once Upon a Time in America?

The truth is, Leone did have up to 10 hours of finished cinematic material, which he cut down to six hours. He wanted to put it out in two parts, much like the initial saga of The Godfather was extended into a sequel. Leone’s original vision for the film was two 180-minute motion pictures which would be shown on consecutive days. After the initial run, he planned to edit the two parts down for a general release which would run as one four-hour and 29-minute film.

Film distributors convinced Leone to release a “Director’s Cut” feature at a running time of 3 hours and 49-minutes, with no intermission, which was the version shown at the 1984 Cannes Film Festival (Martin Scorsese led the push to restore the original version, which was shown at Cannes in 2012, though it’s still missing 18 minutes). This version caught on in Europe. But American audiences saw an even more butchered cut in 1984. The U.S. financial backers, The Ladd Company, founded by actor Alan Ladd’s son, cut 90 minutes from the already-edited film, bringing it to two hours and 19 minutes. But they also restructured the film, cutting the flashbacks-within-flashbacks to present the story chronologically.

This most affects the opening, which is an extended action sequence told with the expressionism of a silent film and the nihilism of post-war Italian neorealism. It is a bit of a jumble coming out of an opium dream. Noodles is on the run, behind in the game, and stoned out of mind. The flashbacks create a cognitive dissonance, and the audience experiences the freefall in a visceral way. By the time they land, it’s in the beginning of a story, which may all be an opium dream. The longer version did play at art cinemas in the U.S. Having seen both on their initial release, this writer preferred the long version of the crime classic, but will admit, they could have answered a phone in the opening sequence before it rang 30 times.

I’d Watch an 8-Hour “Making of” Documentary on This

The production of the film is worthy of a star-studded documentary itself. Leone devoted most of his adult life to getting it done. He turned down The Godfather to make it. Once Upon a Time in America is the final entry in Leone’s “Once Upon a Time” trilogy. It followed Once Upon a Time in the West (C’era Una Volta Il West) (1968), and Once Upon a Time in the Revolution, which came out in 1971 as Duck, You Sucker!. One of the first America drafts was written by Norman Mailer, the author of the novel The Naked and the Dead, and Marilyn: A Biography, the 1973 Marilyn Monroe biography which first speculated the Hollywood icon had been killed by the FBI and CIA. Leone told American Film magazine the novelist was not “not a writer for movies,” but wasn’t satisfied with a screenplay until the end of 1974.

Leone first became interested in making Once Upon a Time in America while making Once Upon a Time in the West. He came across the book The Hoods, which is described on its cover flap as “a notorious mob boss of the syndicate tells the full inside story of hired killing and crime operations.” Published in August 1952, it was very open about Jewish gangster life during the 1920s and ‘30s. It was written by Hershel “Noodles” Goldberg under the alias Harry Grey.

Goldberg also wrote the 1958 book, Portrait of a Mobster, about Jewish mob legend Arthur “Dutch Schultz” Flegenheimer. He wrote The Hoods while serving time in Sing Sing prison. Leone met with Grey in a New York City bar, according to Christopher Frayling’s 2012 book, Sergio Leone: Something to Do with Death. The author was still in hiding from his former mob associates. The renowned Spaghetti Western director didn’t find a heroic figure like “Paul Muni in Scarface or James Cagney in The Public Enemy,” in the bar. Instead there was a poor man “with a machine gun in his hand and a Borsalino on his head.”

I’d watch a 12-Hour Version of the Original Cast of the Unmade Film

Leone began casting in 1975. When The Hoods begins, the leading characters are teenage criminals. Richard Dreyfuss was first cast as young Noodles. The older version of the character was to be played by James Cagney, who hadn’t made a film since Billy Wilder’s One, Two, Three in 1961. He wouldn’t make another until 1984, the year Leone’s film was finally released, when he appeared in Miloš Forman’s Ragtime. That film also stars Elizabeth McGovern, who plays adult Deborah in Once Upon a Time in America. French actor Gerard Depardieu was cast as young Max, and the part would pass to veteran actor Jean Gabin, an icon of French gangster films.

This is true dream casting. Dreyfuss made his mob movie bones playing Baby Face Nelson in Dillinger (1973) and would go on to become an acting institution. Cagney was an acting legend, who began his career creating young gangster icons. Judging from the outstanding acting performances Leone got from Hollywood Golden Age actors like Henry Fonda, it would have been a masterwork.

Leone brought out unsuspected feats of greatness from veteran actors who had been subject to the rules of mainstream cinema. It would also be wonderful just to watch Cagney and Gabin create onscreen dynamite together. Meanwhile Gabin is probably best known as the lead in Jean Renoir’s 1937 antiwar masterpiece, La Grande Illusion. But that was also the year he played “The Prince of Plunder” in director Julien Duvivier’s Pépé le Moko (1937). That gangster-in-hiding title role established him firmly in French crime cinema, and it should be seen by any fan of Casablanca or Algiers. He also starred in Jacques Becker’s mob film Touchez pas au grisbi (Don’t Touch the Loot) (1954), and plays the capo of the Manalese crime family in director Henri Verneuil’s The Sicilian Clan (1969).

I would gleefully binge 10 hours of Gabin and Cagney rehearsing.

And I Could Watch the Final Cast All Weekend

I’d also binge rehearsals for the cast that ultimately wound up filming Once Upon a Time in America. Robert De Niro, as grown-up David “Noodles” Aaronson, was in his prime. He was already gangster film royalty, having played in The Gang that Couldn’t Shoot Straight (1971), Martin Scorsese’s Mean Streets (1973), and as young Vito Corleone in The Godfather, Part II. His Jake La Motta took a career-killing dive for the mob in Raging Bull (1980). But while De Niro also proved he could play psychopaths like Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver (1976), that part was better filled by his co-star.

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James Woods, who plays the adult Maximilian “Max” Bercovicz, created one of the most convincing sociopaths of crime cinema in The Onion Field (1979). He also brought one of the sleaziest characters in science fiction to David Cronenberg’s 1983 cult masterpiece, Videodrome. For gangster and crime film fans, De Niro and Woods together are like seeing Cagney work with Edward G. Robinson in Smart Money (1931), Humphrey Bogart in Angels with Dirty Faces (1938) and The Roaring Twenties (1939), or George Raft in Each Dawn I Die (1939).

While Joe Pesci’s crime boss Frankie Monaldi is so authentic in Once Upon a Time in America that it looks like he was picked out of a lineup, Burt Young’s performance as his brother Joe Monaldi is pure cinema verité. He almost makes you want to take a shower. The only relief comes from watching Treat Williams as a union leader who takes a bath.

Tuesday Weld, who plays Carol, is an icon of licentious cinema. She was Stanley Kubrick’s first choice to play the title role in Lolita (1962), and the wildest orgy enthusiast in Looking for Mr. Goodbar (1977). Weld started acting as a teenager in the 1956 jukebox musical Rock! Rock! Rock!, and brought more tension than Steve McQueen and Ann-Margret combined in the 1965 gambling classic, The Cincinnati Kid, which also starred Edward G. Robinson. Quentin Tarantino would probably be proud to recommend Weld’s filmography as a film binge subject.

Once Upon a Time in America also began production in 1980 but was scuttled by an Actor’s Strike. It would have seen Tom Berenger and Paul Newman playing the Noodles characters. For Max, Leone considered Dustin Hoffman, Jon Voight, Harvey Keitel, John Malkovich, and John Belushi. Brooke Shields was set to play young Deborah, which went on to be Jennifer Connelly’s film debut. She would go on to play in Labyrinth (1986) with David Bowie, as well as to an acclaimed career as an adult in movies like Requiem for a Dream (2000) and win an Academy Award for A Beautiful Mind (2001).

What’s in a Bad Reputation?

The Godfather is briskly paced, relatable, and every sequence is perfectly framed. Had Once Upon a Time in America been split into two parts, as the director intended, it may have become just as iconic. Coppola saves the Corleone family backstory for the second film, where it sits comfortably as it mirrors one rise with another.

In today’s environment, where binge-watching is the norm, Once Upon a Time in America should be reevaluated on that basis. People are more accustomed to long-long form entertainment, because they have readily available short-form at their fingertips on apps like TikTok. Alejandro Jodorowsky wanted to make a 10-hour adaptation of the science fiction novel Dune. He got the same blowback as Leone.

“Myself, I make an enormous project of a film that will not be a normal film, 14, 16, maybe 19 hours,” Jodorowsky told Den of Geek while promoting his film Psychomagic. “Hollywood thought I was crazy. A picture [should be] one hour and half or two hours, no more. But now, with series television, you see eight chapters. The short pictures are dying, it’s not anymore necessary. We need to make a serious chapter, you know? Ten hours.”

Today, Jodorowsky’s Dune would be a Netflix miniseries–or at the very least two films, as enjoyed by director Denis Villeneuve. Once Upon a Time in America is far more watchable than its legend declares, and Leone was a filmmaker who should have been afforded his cut. “He was a real artist of industrial movies,” Jodorowsky told Den of Geek. “You need to be very intelligent to do that, and he did it. The picture, all of his pictures, I love these pictures.”

I have watched The Godfather, The Godfather, Part II, The Godfather, Part III, Mario Puzo’s The Godfather, Coda: The Death of Michael Corleone, the box set collectors’ edition of The Godfather Saga, and still have a recording of the first time the film ran with all the deleted scenes restored. I will watch them all again. But there is room for more than one Gangster Epic. Once Upon a Time in America’s reputation as a sloppy, overlong film is undeserved. It bears repeated viewing.

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