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hellowkatey · 3 years

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Febuwhump Day 17

Prompt: truth serum (alternate prompt 1)

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Unpleasant Truths

Anakin opens his mouth to say something but is immediately interrupted.

"Nope," Obi-Wan says with a swift shake of the head that makes a tendril of hair fall into his face. "Not a word, Anakin."

"Oh come on, Master."

"Not. A. Word."

"Do we have anything better to do?"

"Well, no," Obi-Wan says, and then cringes. Anakin has a feeling that wasn't the answer he wanted to give.

Anakin and Obi-Wan sit in adjacent beds of the med bay aboard The Resolute. There was only one private exam room left for them to take up, so they opted to share. While they aren't particularly hurt-- no more than any usual battle-- they were captured and exposed to a particularly potent truth serum. Nobody is really sure what to do with them. Least of all, one another. Anakin supposes his former master figured the lesser evil was to lock them in a room together-- no secrets accidentally being revealed to those without clearance.

However, they don't know how long this serum is supposed to last. They're waiting for Kix to come back with bloodwork.

"How will we know when it's worn off if we don't ask questions?" Anakin suggests. Obi-Wan doesn't look in the least bit amused.

"Because I know you. You're going to ask about things that amuse you or that you want to be nosy about," he raises an eyebrow. "Isn't that right?"

The knight swallows hard, the truth on the tip of his tongue. Of course, he is powerless in preventing it from slipping.

"Yes," he mutters.

"So no talking. We will wait for labs."

"You're no fun," Anakin lays back on the bed and points over at him. "And you know I'm telling the truth about that."

They sit in the prescribed silence for an hour or so before the door opens and Kix comes strolling in with a datapad and a set of IVs.

"Hello generals, how are we doing?"

"Not ideal," Obi-Wan says.

"Bored," Anakin chimes in. Kix looks a tad caught off guard-- maybe not used to them answering so truthfully about their condition. His brown eyes flicker between them before he decides to just give them the report.

"So the good news is the serum appears to be non-lethal. We just have to wait for it to filter out of your systems."

"I assume there is bad news then?" Obi-Wan asks.

"Well... the problem is, it embeds itself into the brain and spinal fluid. I have no way of knowing how long it will be in effect without doing an unnecessarily invasive procedure."

"Well that's..." Obi-Wan trails off, glancing at Anakin. "disappointing."

"Do you have a guess on how long, Kix?"

He seems to wager this in his head. "Six hours? More or less."

Great. There goes my afternoon.

Kix excuses himself, promises to return if they learn anymore. As soon as he's out the door, Obi-Wan lays back, letting his head fall against the pillow, and lets out an exacerbated sigh. Anakin can feel him in the beginnings of meditation, the Force around them drawing into his presence and making it shine like a beacon. And then it releases, and Obi-Wan groans again.

"What's wrong?"

"This blasted drug is muddying up the Force. I can't concentrate."

"Oh no, you might have to spend the next six hours actually conscious," Anakin rolls his eyes.

"Meditating passes the time."

"Talking passes the time."

"Anakin," he sighs.

"Oh yes, what a tragedy to spend time with me."

The Jedi Master looks at him now, his eyebrows knit together. "I like spending time with you, Anakin. Do you think I don't?"

"Well... yeah."

"What could make you think that?"

He bites on his tongue, knowing fully well it won't help a thing. "You... dismiss me. Or seem annoyed by me. Or... I don't know... treat me like I'm still a little kid."

The truth falls heavy between them, and suddenly Anakin wishes they'd stuck to the code of silence. Obi-Wan's face shifts into something that he can only categorize as devastation. Even though it's true that he feels that sometimes his master wants nothing to do with him, he never wanted him to know that.

"Anakin... I'm sorry," he says softly, his eyes trained intensely on him. "I didn't realize..."

"Obi-Wan, don't apologize. I guess... I wanted what you and Qui-Gon had." He remembers fondly the brief memories of a young padawan Obi-Wan and his master. The little looks they had that meant more than they seemed. The inside jokes and synergy when they fought alongside one another. Anakin thinks he and Obi-Wan have some of that. They are two parts of a deadly machine on the battlefield, and they share their own little jokes but sometimes there's just this disconnect. Like he trusts him with his life, but not with the secret of his wife. He doesn't think it's supposed to be this way.

But surprisingly, Obi-Wan stiffens at his comment. Anakin wonders if the serum also makes his body language more readable because he's never seen his master so expressive. "What Qui-Gon and I... Anakin when you told me you thought I didn't like spending time with you, it made me worried that I had grown to be too much like Qui-Gon."

"What do you mean?"

He stares off into space a moment. Obviously fighting against the serum, which only makes Anakin more worried about his answer. Never has he ever heard a bad word about Master Jinn, so he isn't sure what it could have been.

"Qui-Gon and I... had a rocky relationship. He didn't want another padawan, but Yoda was quite insistent. He took me, it was a long time before he accepted me."

"Then... how did you become his padawan?"

"I... well to make a long story short I was willing to detonate a bomb that would kill me but save the agricorps settlement, and I suppose he took that as reassurance I wouldn't let him down," Obi-Wan presses his lips together. "Too bad he was wrong about that."

Now Anakin is sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his master with confusion. "What do you mean he was wrong?"

"Well, I did leave the order shortly after, which thoroughly shattered his expectations."

"Wait, what?" There is just... so much to unpack in the few things he just revealed. But Obi-Wan looks at him with a face that pleas him to stop. So Anakin relaxes, holding in the urge to ask more questions. "Will you tell me about this when we aren't under truth serum?"

"Yes," he answers. Definitively. Without hesitation. So Anakin nods and sits back on the bed, his head still whirring with questions.

"Can I... ask why you felt Qui-Gon didn't like you? I always thought-- I don't know, that you guys were a team."

He crosses his arms over his chest, focusing on an invisible spot on the ceiling. "We had different ideas of how to do things. That's why Yoda wanted us together. I was an angry and headstrong youngling, and he was a rebel the council needed to find a way to reel in."

Anakin scoffs. "You? Angry?"

A small smile appears on his face. "I packed a nasty right hook in my initiate days. So when I was faced with a Master who disregarded the rules, I assumed the role of the logical rule follower."

"And then you never gave up that role."

"I had punk for a padawan, what else was I to do?"

Anakin looks down at his lap, a small smile on his face.

"Is this why you don't talk about your padawan years very often?"

"The memory of Qui-Gon is... painful. As are many of the experiences I had as a child," he winces.

Well, this is depressing, Anakin thinks, wishing he could ask more but he knows it would be wrong to do so. The mystery of Obi-Wan's past has suddenly been blown right open and he isn't quite sure what to make of it. Left the order? Denied by Qui-Gon? In his head, he had this image of his tiny master, fresh-faced and spouting off Jedi Code at every chance.

"Why does nobody ever talk about that stuff?" Anakin asks, wondering how he's gone over a decade as a Jedi without hearing a word about his master's unusual apprenticeship.

"It wasn't widely known. The council and a few others," Obi-wan stares at him, sadness in his eyes. "But there is no honor in tainting the reputation of the dead."

"But you..." Anakin lets out a shaky breath. "I talked about him all the time. And you never told me?"

"Qui-Gon... was your hero. He saved you, and I- I didn't want that to change for you," he pauses, his face paler now. "Anakin, he wasn't a bad man. He was great Jedi, deeply caring for others and a fantastic master-- I have no doubt had he lived, you two would have made a powerful... and troublesome pair."

Anakin isn't sure what to say about it. He is ashamed of the number of times he was mad at his master and wished a different reality for himself. He doesn't even know the entire extent of whatever Obi-Wan is referring to, but somehow he just... knows.

He's heard rumors before. The story of the Jedi Master who gave up his padawan to train a new initiate he thought was promising. The padawans considered it a horror story to tell when they snuck out of their rooms at night to walk the darkened halls. It took Anakin longer than he's willing to admit to realize the story was about him and Master Jinn's dismissal of Obi-Wan. The way Anakin remembered it was he declared Obi-Wan ready to be a knight and that he would then be free to take Anakin.

Apparently, that wasn't the case. He didn't understand the gravity of the gesture then, and never really thought about it too hard after.

But now... now he thinks about that story again-- that apparently Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had issues in the past-- and maybe there was a lot more there than he even knows.

"When this is over, will you tell me everything, Master?"

"No," he says. No hesitation or waver in his voice.

"No?"

"There are some things I can't tell you."

"But why?"

To Anakin's surprise, he chuckles. "I am allowed my secrets, just as you are allowed yours."

This, of course, sends Anakin into a bit of internal panic. Is he just assuming I also have secrets or... does he know?

"I guess... that's fair."

"When this is over we will rest, and then I will tell you some things about my apprenticeship. And you may ask whatever questions you have then."

He supposes that's good enough. The nice thing about truth serum is he knows Obi-Wan isn't making empty promises. They leave things there for a while, Anakin falling asleep for a bit, and when he awakes, it's Obi-Wan who is surprisingly dozing off. Five hours pass. Anakin has moved to the end of Obi-Wan's bed to lay diagonally across it on his stomach, and Obi-Wan sits cross-legged against the headboard.

"Have you ever been in love, Master?" Anakin asks, looking up expecting a slap to the back of the head for such a question, but instead Obi-Wan smiles a little bit.

"Would it surprise you if I said yes?"

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, it is."

Anakin blinks. He had his suspicions, but to hear it aloud...

"The Duchess?"

"Yes."

"And others?"

"A few."

"A few?"

He chuckles.

"To love is not prohibited, it is to put such love ahead of one's duty."

He's never thought about it like that.

"Have you been in love, Anakin?"

"Yes," he says. I'm in love, he thinks to himself.

Obi-Wan hesitates a moment, looking down at him with uncertainty that Anakin thinks he knows the source of. He supposes it's only fair, he's dug into his past relentlessly the past few hours but... his wife isn't just his past, she's his present. His future. Though a part of him wants to tell Obi-Wan about her more than anything, a part of him also knows that his knowing will put him in a horrible position with the council. The secret will undoubtedly come out, and he will be expelled from the Order or be forced to give her up. And nothing can make him give Padmé up.

"Padmé?"

Anakin looks at him. The neutrality of his face just makes him more nervous. He looks his former master dead in the eye.

"Padmé and I... are only close friends, Master."

Obi-Wan nods. Anakin hides his stress by burying his face in the comforter.

Well... looks like the serum has worn off.

Anakin decides to wait another half an hour before he lets Obi-Wan know that, though. Just to be safe.

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday17 #truth serum #oh look im catching up #or trying #anakin and obi-wan try to talk about things

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jemej3m · 4 years

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hi i love love love your writing! sorry if people have been asking this but ive been looking for a part three of your lawyer!andrew and neil is on trial for killing his father and I wasnt sure if I missed it or if you haven’t continued it. Just wondering thank you ❤️

well GUEsS WHAT MY FRIEND

its here!!!

(p1 / p2)

Andrew didn’t like to drag things out, but the prosecution did. They always did. It was their only joy in life, especially in appeals: tease every possible fraying strand of a case till they were three weeks into the trial and the jury was dead on their feet.

And yet, here he was, on the second day of his closing. He’d never made it to a second day: once he’d finished a closing in five minutes.

Neil had grown progressively more antsy over the three weeks, desperate for a resolution. Every time he was scanned into court, Andrew took his favourite key and slipped it into his pocket. Every time he left to be escorted back to his temporary holding cell in Baltimore’s central policing station, he gave it back for safekeeping. Andrew would hold it, the metal still warm to the touch, the teeth of the key worn with how many times Neil would run the tips of his fingers over it.

Professionalism, Betsy had warned him.

But damn it all to hell: Andrew was gone.

“Mr Minyard, if you would continue where we left off last night?” the judge drawled. Andrew could read people better than books: it wasn’t looking good. This was his last chance.

He stood up, shoved down the strange anger that had simmered beneath his skin every time the prosecution slid their pompous gazes over him, and closed his laptop. His briefcase. Put away his notes and hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his slacks.

“Your honour,” he said, with as much grace as his perpetually bored tone allowed. “This case is beyond that of my client. That much we can all agree upon.”

He waited for an answer.

The judge cocked her head. “Yes, Minyard.”

“It is a gruesome story of a luckless, loveless marriage, made for the sakes of alliances and blood money. Mary Wesninski paid that price with her life, when her husband took his favourite weapon - a cleaver - to her throat. My client was 17 when that happened. He was a minor. A child.”

He turned to the jury. “Over and over, I have rebutted the prosecution’s solitary and feeble argument that my client is Nathan Wesninski’s son. The very Nathan Wesninski who earned his name, the Butcher, through bloody campaigns and fearmongering. That Nathaniel Wesninski was destined to follow his father’s path and continue his legacy.”

“If it weren’t for his mother, perhaps he would have,” Andrew said, rocking back on his heels. “Without intervention, there’s no doubt that Nathaniel Wesninski would have been a carbon copy of his predecessor, and just as bloodthirsty. But that man -” he pointed at Neil. “That man is not Nathaniel Wesninski. Not in the way his father wanted him to be.”

“We’ve seen the pictures of my client’s torso. The bullet wounds and gruesome knifings that he earned whilst clawing desperately to free himself from his father’s iron grasp. Worse still: we’ve seen the proof of a tormented childhood, skin torn off by a hot iron, stitches from misplaced butter knives at the dinner table when Junior, seven years old, didn’t sit still enough. A crooked nose, broken three times before he managed to escape.”

He looked to the one woman who he knew would recognise this pain, this trauma.

“You should have no doubt in your minds that this man here, my client,” Andrew said, voice lowered down. “This man was simply fighting for his life. He was running from his worst nightmare, clawing desperately for freedom when all he’d known was pain, chains and despair. He fought against what his father wished for him, every step of the way. In self-defence, he rid the world a serial killer. A rapist. A man who had committed every atrocity known to humankind. If anything, we should be thanking him.”

The room had gone deathly quiet.

“Ask yourselves,” he said, taking a deep breath. “Is purging the world of a monster that monstrous of a thing to do?”

He turned back to the judge.

“My client has served his time. He’s done twice as long as he should have for manslaughter, which is the true nature of this crime. Repeatedly, my client has expressed his willingness to comply with parole measures and prove himself a functioning member of our society. If you have any humanity left within you,”

He looked over his shoulder at Neil. The man held his gaze, blue eyes so intense that Andrew nearly lost his train of thought.

“Any humanity at all,” he continued. The judge looked down at him, face blank. “You would grant his mother her dying wish, and finally let this injustice rest.”

He returned to his desk. “That’s all, your honour.”

It took her a few moments to clear her throat and call: “Court adjourned.”

Two policemen came and cuffed Neil’s hands behind his back. Andrew had done everything he could: it was out of his hands now. He mightn’t ever see Neil again, if by the afternoon the jury had decided Neil’s pleas were worthless and had him sent him right back to maximum security.

“Thank you,” the man said, just before he was turned away. “You were amazing.”

Andrew remained very still until the courtroom was empty.

Now all he could do was wait.

“The ‘dying wish’ thing was intense,” Matt commented around a mouthful of falafel. Dan flicked a crumb off his tie, looking at him with an irritated fondness. Both of them - Wymack too - had sat in for both days of his closing. Dan because she pretended she had any sense of authority over Andrew, Wymack because he was Andrew’s boss, and Matt because he was fatally friendly and had never missed a closing of any of his coworkers, even Andrew.

“The whole thing was intense,” Dan grumbled.

“I bet the sexual tension was off the charts,” Allison called out, kicked up her feet onto her desk as she ignored Renee’s unsubtle shushing.

Andrew ignored them all.

“We’re just waiting for the verdict?”

“We’ll be called in when the jury’s ready.”

“It’s been two days. They’ve dragged this on long enough.”

The phone on his desk started ringing. He shoved it against his ear and said “What.”

“Mr Minyard? This is Amy Johnston from the Post, I was just wondering if you wanted to comment on the outcome of your most recent case -”

He slammed the phone back down onto the receiver, jolting his coworkers out of their idle chatter. He was going to kill Nicky for letting the press through. His cousin was useless, and the press were even worse: there was no outcome. The jury had been silent for 2 days, and at this rate, it’d probably go into three.

Wymack texted him. I know you’re still at the office. Go home.

Andrew didn’t need to be told twice.

He careened his ludicrously expensive car into the driveway of his small home. Being a lawyer did have its perks, even if his fellows were curious busybodies and he got attached to impossible cases. He’d crack a better whisky tonight and herald in the news of him impending failure half drunk.

He was never taking a case like this again. Of course, there was no case quite like Nathaniel Wesninski’s, but the point still remained.

He unlocked his front door, stepped inside, and immediately stilled.

The heater was on.

His briefcase, blazer and tie came off, thrown haphazardly in the general direction of Andrew’s study. When he entered his kitchen, he skidded to a stop.

“Hi,” Neil said, skin far more bronze without the gaudy orange jumpsuit. Andrew just stared. The man ducked his head down, lacing his fingers behind his back. “I - uh, I got Wymack to call you in sick for the verdict. Wanted to surprise you.”

“You knew,” Andrew said. “You knew the outcome?”

“Of course,” Neil snorted. “Had to do something with the bloodmoney. Don’t worry, it was only two of them. The rest you had hooked.”

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Andrew said flatly. Neil’s grin flashed, but he was clearly way out of his depth here. Free and nervous about it. Here, because he thought that Andrew would be the only one that cared.

And he did. For the first time, he did.

The man gestured at his ankle. “18 months parole. It’s a bit heavy but I’ll get used to it with time, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck, curls bouncing. “Gotta find somewhere to live, I suppose. Figure out how normal life works. I’m applying for a name change: the first random name generator on Google gave me Josten, so that’s probably what I’ll go with.”

“You’re a disaster,” Andrew managed, fighting every urge not to reach out and comb his fingers through the man’s hair.

“What else is new?” Neil joked.

“You said you’d go to law school.”

His eyes widened slightly. “You’re holding me to that?”

Andrew shrugged. “It’s your life.”

“I suppose you’ll regret taking me on when I end up stealing your cases,” Neil teased, leaning a little closer.

Andrew reached up and tugged on Neil’s collar. “I don’t believe in regret. But I sure as hell will give you the challenge.”

Neil’s lips quirked up at the side, warping his scars and making Andrew’s chest ache.

“Stay,” Andrew said, softer than he intended.

And, now that he could choose to, Neil Josten, freshly minted and definitely real, whispered: “Okay.”

wow only months later did i finally figure out what i wanted from this

srry its so short!!

#andreil #lawyer!au #htgawwm au #kinda #part 3!!!!#out of 3 probably srry #:(((#unless someone inspires me ;;)#all for the game #aftg #neil josten #andrew minyard #the foxes #boppity boo heres content for you #pls bear with me i have like 4 wips all 15k plus but i cant stay on track with anything

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flightofaqrow · 4 years

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Meta: Road to Recovery

OKAY SO

Yesterday, @ littleblackqrow made this excellent post about Qrow hitting rock bottom in vol 6, [< that’s a link to it, my blog isn’t always great with identifying that] which breaks down:

Him being forced to literally face the consequences of his actions in regards to drinking.

Him not dealing with frustration or lack of direction well.

The rising tensions of his interpersonal relationships, people starting to lose patience with and call him on his bs, especially as he gets worse.

How important his relationship with Ruby is and not wanting to put that at risk.

Beautiful. The good stuff. Go read it if you haven’t.

But I also present to you another nuance that affected his descent and ultimate decisions: a complete blowout identity crisis.

This got long so I’m going to try and separate it into phases.

I. Loss of Identity

"I gave my life to you because you gave me a place in this world. I thought I was finally doing some good."

When Ozpin’s secret is revealed, Qrow’s reaction is to believe his entire purpose for the last 20+ years was working towards something that was never really a complete plan and probably doomed from the start. None of it mattered: The work STRQ put in. His choosing the opposite side of his own sister. Losing Summer. All the spying, fighting. The whole idea of having huntsman to begin with and all the effort he put in to be one of the best. All of the things he didn’t do instead.

In one fell swoop he loses his whole identity.

On top of finding out one of his most trusted people not only kept secrets, but lied to him - someone he’s likely stood up for and defended with bared teeth and is now finding out those other people were right. On top of what is still coming that has to be faced and all the lives in danger.

Ruby is right to be worried he won't take it well. Who would?

II. Rock Bottom

It's why even the apathy scene where he knows he fucked up isn't enough. The whole situation still feels hopeless. He still feels empty. Oh, and let's add on finding out his own hero and inspiration was one of the ones who gave up and ran away.

[Aside: When they were riding in the cart and Maria said “especially when some of you are clearly stronger already” I’m pretty sure that included Qrow. Look at him through her eyes! A huntsman 40+ who’s dedicated his whole life to the occupation, and even though it’s clearly taken a toll and he struggles, he’s still out there fighting the good fight to the bitter end like you’re supposed to!! She can’t be only talking about the young ones being skilled.]

So rock bottom hits.

But.

"If you think you can keep up with us kids, we’d be happy to have you."

Eventually we have the scene where Ruby stands up to him and offers him a new place at her side. She’s too smart for her own good. Even if it’s subconscious and intuitively, she knows what he needs. Maria’s still there, too. Still means something to him, and she reinforces this idea, coaxing him to make better choices:

"Guess you didn't give her enough credit either."

The seed’s been planted, but he's still too stuck in his own head and guilt to see it yet.

III. Breaking Down and Building Back Up

This finally culminates in his breakdown when the airship abduction plan starts falling apart:

“Every choice I've ever made has led me here, and I've dragged you along with me. Oz, myself, the others... We're responsible for the mess the world's in now. I shouldn't have come, shouldn't have let any of you come... What was I thinking?!”

Hopefully, this hits a little bit different now. It’s not just semblance-based guilt or even recognizing his recent failings. It’s everything crashing down around him. Literally every choice he’s made.

But then Ruby absolves him. [wow look at what can happen when you actually talk about stuff.] She steps up as her own person and a full on leader for the group, and finally, finally frees him from everything up until now; even this self-imposed intermediate job of being the responsible adult. And then once more reminds him of who he is and that there is still a fresh start to be his own person. She uses his full name for a reason.

“We could still use Qrow Branwen on our side.”

So he chooses to join the fight. Because of course he does.

He’s Qrow Branwen.

The huntsman who does what’s right.

IV. Staying Sober

So when all is said and done, and they’re winding down from the battle, and he goes for a drink, it isn't just not wanting to worry Ruby that stops him. He can’t even see her face. [Although, saying "just don't go giving me heart attacks like that again" aloud does, I think, finally cause the immediate flash of insight / irony that Ruby probably feels the same way about him, and is definitely a factor]. It's not even him confronting or atoning for his actions.

No, this moment is him making the transition from being Oz's spy (when it was all fun and games and he could get away with stuff because he was that good and worked alone), to realizing that if he's going to take on this new role as a committed support for RWBY + ORNJ (in a deadly war with uncertain and changing tactics, against an unkillable being), then, I need to be sharper. I need to be more present. I need to be a better me.

This is him looking right down the mouth of his flask and deciding for himself to leave it in the past with Ozpin and his own former identity, and to instead move forward and grow alongside everyone else.

Yesterday’s post made the beautiful observations of Ruby’s expressions during this scene, but let’s look at Qrow.

[I’m busy having a personal crisis, don’t touch me.]

[Well, I guess it’s okay.]

V. Bonus Round

And let me point out that once more, at the end of the battle, Maria reinforces him, this time by validating his performance in this new standby and support function. [Which is also probably closer to what he was used to being in STRQ, and more comfortable for him.]

“You weren't half bad yourself today, Qrow.”

This is self indulgent but I’M ADDING IT ON BECAUSE THIS SCENE BLOWS MY MIND, OK!! ALL WITHIN 40 SECONDS WE SEE:

Qrow being validated.

Qrow talking about his feelings.

Qrow accepting a compliment with poise.

Qrow genuinely relaxing and smiling.

BECAUSE OF MARIA!!!!

VI. Some extra asides

1. I think this all is part of why we see such a spike of bird form in vol 6 as well. Besides just making more sense than other battles maybe, since it’s something at a cliffside and tall forest, it's all he has left at that point. Ozpin and prior orders lost his respect. He lost the group's respect. He's already given the kids all the information he has. He's barely feeling useful as a huntsman. But here [man, the hope and pride in his voice when he says "you're not the only one who can get a bird's eye view" !!], here is this one thing that's special that he can still do and offer that no one else in the group can!! So he relies on it a little more than he normally would just to feel worthwhile.

2. SEE SECTION V - CLOVER YOU ABSOLUTE DOLT. Qrow’s already demonstrated all the things you’re trying to say he needs to work on. HE’S ONLY DEFLECTING AND FLUSTERED BECAUSE IT’S YOU SAYING THE THINGS!!! I don’t understand how the ship isn’t approached more from this direction instead of wanting Clover to be that development for him, but I always tend to handle ships differently I guess.

3. Expanding on that, Clover helped him have a fresh start with a new person to start feeling out this new self, and maybe work through some baggage. But I really think Qrow and this decision is stronger than to relapse much, if any, over the loss of him. I don't think he blames himself as much as some seem to believe either (yet another separate post), but even if he ends up with a bunch of guilt in vol 8, going sober was never about any resolution of his semblance or friend troubles. BUT at the same time stress is still stress so we'll see.

I feel like Nora running out of breath, bless you if you stuck with this the whole way.

#rwby #qrow branwen #rwby meta #rwby volume 6 #long post #* behind closed doors = ooc *#* gotta look inside / a little introspection = character development *#* hey don't get mad cause i'm right = headcanon *#* legends and stories; some of them true; some made up = meta *

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shielddrake · 4 years

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Final Fantasy XII: A Retrospective Review

So, I received Final Fantasy XII: The Zodiac Age for Christmas last year.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a huge fan of the Final Fantasy franchise. I have played almost every game with that title that has been released…at least the ones released in America, since I sadly do not speak Japanese. So it’s not unreasonable to assume I would want a remake of one of its games. I have quite a few, in fact, including V and VI on my iPhone, III and IV on my DS, and I and II on my PSP. Final Fantasy IX was the first game I put on my PS4 when I got it (yeah, I admit I put a PS1 game on my PS4 before anything else) and I thoroughly enjoyed replaying VIII when its remaster came out last September.

Final Fantasy XII, however, is a bit of an exception because, my Internet friends, I have a confession to make: Final Fantasy XII is my least favorite in the franchise.

Now I wouldn’t say that FFXII is a bad game. Far from it. It’s a very good game. For the most part, I completely understand why so many people love it. I just don’t feel the same way.

When I first played the game when it was released, I was not too thrilled with a lot of the gameplay decisions and where it ended up going story-wise. At the time, I concluded that while it was a good game, it was a poor Final Fantasy title. And this is taking into account the fact that I had played and beaten both Final Fantasy Tactics and Tactics Advance several times before playing FFXII. Both of these games are quite different from the main FF series, but are great in their own right. I basically consider the Ivalice Alliance as a separate spin-off series, sort of like the Crystal Chronicles games or the Dissidia series.

But FFXII was not that great, in my opinion. I didn’t feel invested in the characters, I was not a fan of the combat or license board system at all, and I felt the story was incomplete at best and annoyingly vague at worst. There were a lot of missed opportunities for the use of the characters. I was neutral about the graphics, which, although beautiful, I felt did not really improve on what was presented in Final Fantasy X, and I didn’t like that a lot of the regular trends known in the previous installments (the summons being the main example that comes to mind) were thrown out for something completely disconnected. I finished the game just feeling a mix of boredom and irritation, to be perfectly honest. The only thing I can recall even remotely liking was the music, despite it not being composed by Nobuo Uematsu, my favorite composer of all time even to this day.

Needless to say, playing The Zodiac Age was not on my list of priorities, and I’m not sure I ever would have played it had it not been gifted to me.

All that said, I received the game and felt that, well, maybe since I have it anyway I would give it another shot. Let’s see if FFXII is as bad as I remember. Maybe a retrospective review would be a good thing to post on the twelfth anniversary of the game’s original release, so why not?

* Looks at the dates and realizes Final Fantasy XII was originally released 14 years ago, not 12. *

Uh, never mind. Clearly I’m way too late for that party.

Anyway, as I started playing, I decided that there were two big questions that I wanted to answer with this retrospective review:

1.) Is Final Fantasy XII as bad of a game as I remember it being when it was first released?

2.) Would I change my claim about Final Fantasy XII being my least favorite game in the franchise?

Obviously the game has been out for a long time, remake or not, but I want to warn against spoilers here just in case. I don’t want to ruin anyone’s experience after all. With that, let’s get started.

Statistics

I just wanted to start this review with a few facts about my playthroughs (yes, the plural is intentional).

I played through The Zodiac Age twice, once for about 42 hours in length and the second for about 47. I used each of the jobs in the zodiac job system in each playthrough, but in different combinations and on different characters. Of course, I couldn’t account for every possible combination. That would take a very long time…

The party was at level 46 on my shorter playthrough and 51 on my longer one. I did not complete all of the hunts, although I fought more of them the second time through. I did not try to get any of the special gear like the Zodiac Spear, mostly because I don’t know how. I also did not get all of the espers, because other than the required time you have to summon Belias to get into Giruvegan, I never used summoning.

I avoided any guides or other playthroughs for the game, relying on the game’s directions and my memory from my previous plays…fourteen years ago…to guide me through the main part of the story. Yeah, I haven’t played FFXII since it was released in 2006, maybe 2007, give or take a few months. So, if I got confused or lost during the course of the game, it was because I either missed directions or the game was not clear on where I needed to go.

At the time of this review, I have not experimented at all with Trial Mode or played through New Game Plus.

Graphics

This section will be short, since I don’t have a lot to say about it.

The graphics are very good. As I stated above, in the original I did not feel the graphics were all that different than Final Fantasy X released four years prior, and my opinion of The Zodiac Age hasn’t really changed. According to the Final Fantasy Wiki, the game was given “high resolution upgrades to backgrounds, character models, 2d parts, and movie scenes.” To be honest, I didn’t notice much of a difference, although that might be because I didn’t play the game often enough to have the original graphics etched in my memory.

However, that does not mean the game looks bad. On the contrary, it is still a beautiful game, despite a few small glitches such as Balthier’s dialogue not syncing up to his lip movements or Basch’s hair not moving, Those are minor nitpicks. The game is still lovely to look at.

Sound and Music

Again, the music for this game is excellent. As I mentioned before, the music was probably the one thing I would praise about the game when it was originally released. The Zodiac Age somehow manages to make it better by providing a rerecorded soundtrack that makes a lot of the notes sound less harsh. There is the option of switching it back to the original version, but I preferred the new one. Basically they took the one thing I liked about the original game and made it better.

The voice acting I am pretty neutral about. For the most part, I don’t think anyone’s voice work was either bad or good. Other than the overuse of sighs, of which I get most annoyed by Ashe’s because she sighs all the time, I don’t mind the voice acting very much.

The only one I have a problem with, and this was also the case when I first played FFXII, is with Fran’s voice. I always feel bad criticizing a voice actor because they put a lot of training and passion into their work, but I just can’t help but be really annoyed at the choices SquareEnix made when casting Fran. She sounds so different in the English version compared to the Japanese one, and I don’t think it fits the character at all. Viera, all viera, are supposed to be these rather ethereal beings akin to the elves in The Lord of the Rings. So why, then, would the translation team have Fran be given a voice that makes her sound like a nasally four-year-old? According to the Wiki, the translators wanted to “sell the new take on the viera,” but it just falls flat.

Miscellaneous Gameplay

Okay, I only made this section so I can briefly go over some of the extra gameplay components the game has, both old and new. First, the good.

The high-speed mode is great. I always thought the characters moved so annoyingly slow! This fixes that problem and honestly saves a lot of time. I feel like it sheared off a couple of hours off the game that are just empty time needed simply to move from place to place. I used this in the FFVIII remaster as well for the same reason. I basically never turned it off. It didn’t affect cutscenes, so that wasn’t a problem. Also, the sound effect of four people running in high-speed mode is strangely hilarious to me.

There is a transparent overlay map now available. I find this to be much more useful than the minimap alone, which was constantly moving and incapable of helping me orient myself. Previously, I was frequently frustrated and getting lost in pretty much every area, dungeon and town when I played the original version. The overlay map was especially useful in places where direction was important, like the part in the Tomb of Raithwall where you need to turn the statues to face the blade. I could never tell which way to turn them and needed to bring up the main map over and over and over again. The overlay map resolves makes this and general navigation much easier.

My only complaint is that, although it is transparent, it does take up a lot of the center of the screen, but that is a small price to pay for the relief of so much frustration. There are times when the overlay map isn’t useable, namely in parts of Giruvegan and the Bahamut, and then the frustration rises again, which only emphasizes how nice the overlap map is the other times.

Autosave feature. Need I say more? Thank you, SquareEnix, for an autosave feature! Especially during some of the hunts.

And now the bad, which can be lumped into one thing: minigames. Or I guess they’re minigames. They’re small quests that are required to further the story that are not combat based. The yell at the guards to make them move game while stealing the Dusk Shard, AKA the dumbest guards ever. The have Vaan declare he’s Basch in front of people in Bhujerba to get the Resistance’s attention, which unless you had already played the game you don’t know to do in front of the guides, leading you to just listening to Vaan spout annoying nonsense while literally nobody listens. The exchanging information quest in Archadia to get chops to be allowed to ride a flying taxi, which is only slightly less annoying this time around because they reduced the number of exchanges you need to do from nine to three. I guess they realized how tedious it was. I disliked all of these when I first played the game and they were superfluous and dumb and add nothing to the experience this time around too.

Character Progression and Combat

Now we get to the parts where I feel I can really say something constructive. I was initially going to have these be separate sections, but they are so closely related to one another that it seemed silly to split them.

There is something I want to make perfectly clear, that I must admit came very much to my surprise: The combat in The Zodiac Age is nowhere near as bad as I felt it was when I played the vanilla game. Before it felt like a boring slog just to get from one quest to another, but I found that not to be the case this time around. I think the changes to the license board helps with the combat be more dynamic and require a bit more strategy since not every character ends up being the same. I’ll get to the license board in a moment.

With the job system in place, you have to think more about how you’re going to approach an enemy rather than having everyone just attack the whole time. I mean, you can still do that, but your white mage is not going to be as strong as your knight, so having the white mage do only physical attacks doesn’t work quite as well. And with the option of giving everyone different abilities, it means that every character has a different role to play in battle.

The ability to add a second job later in the game adds to the diversity you can bring, since you can make any number of combinations of jobs and really none of them are bad. You’re also not limited by which characters can have which job. Once you pick a job for a character you are stuck with it (at least on the PS4 version) but that does not lock the job away from other characters. You can have two white mages, two knights, five red battlemages, or make every character a bushi if you so desire. You can have someone balanced, someone focused on only offensive spells, someone focused on healing, someone just for physical attacks, a tank…the possibilities are huge!

The gambit system is still in place, and I still am not a huge fan. If I have to micromanage a character’s actions, I’d rather have a system that allows me to input commands individually like in previous Final Fantasy games rather than allowing an AI to do it. However, I understand that the combat in FFXII is fast-paced enough that it makes that sort of system more difficult, and I managed to deal with it fine. I wish I didn’t have to buy gambits for every single miniscule action though.

On the other hand, I did find having multiple gambits useful for the various abilities each character has, especially since the job system allows for more individualized characters. This time, I felt like having several gambit slots was actually worthwhile because I had the characters able to do more things under specific circumstances, especially for spellcasters. This made it seem like it was worth the license points to spend on gambit slots from the license board. So while I still am not fond of the gambit system, I found it overall less annoying than before.

Obviously the license board is the biggest change to The Zodiac Age. The job system is excellent this time around, compared to the complete lack of a job system in the original version. Normally a blank slate for character progression isn’t a bad thing. VI, VII and VIII all had no job system as well, but you could still customize the characters to fit with a play style that you liked. Vanilla FFXII didn’t allow that. It was far too easy to make every character identical, so it ultimately didn’t matter which character you had in your party. This time, the available variety made it much more enjoyable to play and experiment.

The board was also improved on in that it was much more logical within each job. Before, the board was literally just a board, with every license just kind of lumped together. The license for a helmet was next to a license for the fire spell. It never made much sense and it seemed hard to predict what adjacent licenses you were unlocking. This time, armor licenses are together, sword licenses are together, magic licenses are together, and so forth. Some licenses in the same category are spread apart, such as the technicks, but for the most part there is at least some sort of logic to it all, making it much easier to plan character growth instead of it feeling random.

Later on, it is possible to make the characters very similar to one another, so that everyone can cast white magic, use the same technicks, wear the same gear, etc. This is especially easy if you pick secondary jobs that are opposite the first job (for stance, adding a foebreaker job to a white mage). This doesn’t happen until late in the game though, so it doesn’t feel nearly as cheap. FFX did the same with the sphere grid, but you had to be pretty far in the game before that was possible. Same thing here.

I feel I should mention the quickenings and summons, even though I never used the latter in battle. The mist abilities now have their own gauge rather than using MP, which is a nice throwback to the limit break bars of some of the previous games. I definitely prefer it that way. I found myself using quickenings less frequently than during my first playthrough, but that might be because the game was made to be overall a little easier.

Story and Characters

While the job system was the big change for The Zodiac Age, and certainly for the better, I feel I still need to talk about the story and the characters even though nothing about these parts of the game have changed. The big reason for this is because the story was where I had the biggest problem with the original version of FFXII, and therefore will probably have the biggest impact on answering my two burning questions at the beginning of this review.

That being said, if I were to go into all the details about the story and characters and what I think of it, this review would probably be three times as long as it already is. To add to that, since the game has already been out for twelve fourteen years I’m not sure there’s a whole lot I could add to the conversation that hasn’t already been said, other than to point out how I would change the story to make it what would be, in my opinion, better.

Perhaps if people are really interested in my in-depth analysis of the story I can do that in another post, but for the purposes of this review, I’m just going to give summarized version here.

1.) Reks should have lived, or been replaced by Vaan, or have both in the party.

2.) Vaan is not as annoying as I previously thought, but he needed to have a more concrete connection to the plot.

3.) Same for Penelo. Still kind of preachy, but seemed more like a Jiminy Cricket character this time around.

4.) The Strahl needed to be stolen somehow, both to give Balthier a better reason to go with the group and to give a better excuse to not just fly somewhere.

5.) That said, knowing the whole plot of the game makes Balthier’s behavior throughout the story make more sense. Better foreshadowing, in a way.

6.) Fran’s storyline needed to have a more satisfactory conclusion. It just sort of ended.

7.) Basch and Gabranth needed to have more personal interactions throughout the story to make their final moments more satisfying.

8.) For that matter, have more personal interactions between the party and both Dr. Cid and Vayne. We meet both of them a total of two times…over the course of a 40-hour game. Too disconnected from the party’s actions to give much motivation for us to defeat them.

8.) Why did they not use Vossler’s actions as a bigger plot point, with Basch trying to stop Vossler from doing what Basch was accused of? It’s sort of there, but it ends far too quickly. Big missed opportunity.

9.) More judge fights! We fight a total of three, Ghis, Bergan and Gabranth. I wanted more judge bosses!

10.) To add to that, have more context for some of the bosses. It kind of felt like so many of the bosses were there just for the sake of being bosses, and there’s only so many times I can say to myself, “It’s probably a guardian of whatever place.”

11.) I still don’t get the love people have for Ashe. I just don’t get it.

12.) And finally, Larsa should have been the main character. End of story.

…Yeah, that’s the summarized version.

Conclusion

All things considered, I definitely had a different experience playing through The Zodiac Age compared to when I first played FFXII twelve fourteen years ago. And ultimately this is why I decided on playing this game again. I wanted to see if my opinion had changed, if I could look at it from another perspective rather than just negative memory. And although some of my feelings haven’t changed, it’s good to look back on something and see that maybe it isn’t exactly as I recall it.

Let’s go back to the big questions I proposed at the beginning of this review.

First, is Final Fantasy XII as bad of a game as I remember it being when it was first released? No, it’s certainly not. I think the changes made to the license board made the combat more enjoyable for me, and by extension it seemed less of a hassle and more of an actual game. I enjoyed running around and exploring more, and the bosses and hunts were more entertaining as well. While I’m still not fond of the gambit system, I wasn’t as irritated by it and actually found myself experimenting more with it.

Second, would I change my claim about Final Fantasy XII being my least favorite game in the franchise? Eh, probably not. Again, even with the alterations made to the game, there are still a lot of things that I personally was not a fan of, especially involving the story. I’m one of those people who love the story of a game more than anything else (which is clearly why I prefer RPGs to any other game genre). Since the story is still the weakest aspect of FFXII, in my opinion, especially compared to other Final Fantasy games, the game overall doesn’t grab me as much as some of the earlier ones. It’s still a good game, but not great. To be fair, short of completely overhauling the storyline and characters, it would the difficult change those aspects for the better in just a remaster. This makes me wonder how the FFVII remake is going to go, but the jury’s still out on that one.

With all the various opinions and thoughts about what makes a video game good, it’s hard for developers to create what might be considered a perfect game for everyone, and the Final Fantasy franchise is no exception. That doesn’t mean a game cannot be corrected to make it better than the original. That’s what is good about patches and remasters. It gives the developers another opportunity to improve on what was criticized. Final Fantasy XII: The Zodiac Age definitely succeeds in this, even if there are still parts that are not quite as good.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a Kingdom Hearts DLC to play and then proceed to tear apart.

#final fantasy xii #ffxii #the zodiac age #retrospective #review #my opinion

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characteroulette · 6 years

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Also, as an added bonus, I wrote an actual scene for the "We Didn’t Need You" AU that I had fun with (because Jonathan), so here’s that, too

Dante knew even in childhood that he was meant to be alone. Whenever he tried to get his classmates to play with him, they were never interested in giants made of melting clay or trickster pixies who trapped the unsuspecting travellers in eternal dances. They wanted to play things like 'house', or re-enact bible stories, or play made up silly hero stories in which the monsters were always defeated and the heroes came out on top.

They didn't seem to understand that the monsters could have complexity to them, that they weren't just evil beings. And Dante never understood the appeal of pretending to be a family. (They could have their robot cats and pet dragons, but the fact that the Mama and Papa were so kind and loving with their babies just seemed like such a lie.)

He had a Mama and a Papa. He had a sibling sometimes. But, at the end of the day, Dante was always alone.

At some point, he just started preferring it that way.

Of all the new first years that came to their school that year, it was the frightened blond boy who caught Jonathan's interest. The kid got a single room, always ate alone at his own table, and seemed to be avoiding everyone else. An air of loneliness hung about the boy, yet it was a contented sort of loneliness. At least, if Jonathan was reading it right.

Honestly, despite never even interacting with this other boy, Jonathan felt a kinship with him.

Maybe that's what possessed him to sit down at the same table one day for lunch, completely unprompted.

The disturbance made the boy look up at Jonathan. A mixture of confusion and fear was in his eyes, which Jonathan now noted were red. Just as Niculaie and Damon's eyes were. After the initial surprise (and attempting to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do now that he'd made this impulsive decision), Jonathan held up a hand in greeting. "Hey."

The other boy nodded slowly in return. "Um. Hi."

His voice was quiet, unsure. Which was fair. Jonathan had invaded the other kid's space. Jonathan offered up a smile, shoving his hands into his lab coats' pockets. "I'm Jonathan. Nice to meet ya. Mind if I sit here for today?"

"Uh." The other boy bowed his head, staring resolutely at his tray of food. "I guess. I can't stop you. If you really want to." The more he spoke, the quieter he petered out by the end. And, perhaps because Jonathan was very aware of his own accent, he could hear the slightest bit of accent in the other boy's voice. "I'm, uh. Dante Vicario."

"Vicario." Jonathan sounded the name out shortly. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. Perhaps he'd run it by Damon, that pompous rich boy knew the whole school. For better or worse. Jonathan half-smiled and turned back towards Vicario. "What electives you taking? Let me guess -- one of 'em's Study Hall, right?"

Vicario kept his head down, his expression mostly out of view. Jonathan waited a moment for Vicario to reply, realised he wasn't going to get one, then went about eating his own lunch. He'd sat there, it was up to him to make conversation. But it was also polite to give space when appropriate. And it didn't seem like Vicario was very keen on the whole talking thing.

Maybe Jonathan could try again during dinner. Or maybe even after hours. Vicario had that single room and all.

But no, no. That wasn't Jonathan, that wasn't how a nice, straight boy would make friends. And Jonathan was a normal, straight boy.

"Sitting here today, huh?"

Frank suddenly dropped his tray on the place beside Jonathan's, grinning mischievously as Vicario jumped at the sudden noise. Jonathan frowned in amusement at Frank. "Thought I'd get to know Vicario a bit. How about you?"

"Oh, you know." Frank sat down, cheery as usual. Despite Jonathan knowing exactly what Frank meant. Still, graceful as ever, Frank moved on by looking next at Vicario. "So. Would you rather fight a bear or a bunch of bees?"

Jonathan snorted, barely holding back his laughter. Another perfect opener from the genius kid himself. God, Jonathan was so glad Frank was able to be his roommate. Even if it meant he was reminded of William more than he'd like. Well, whatever. That ship had sailed. Now Jonathan just had to keep his head about him, to last until the end of the year. Then he'd be off to college and, hopefully, things would make more sense by that point.

Vicario dared to glance up at Frank, that mix of fear and confusion still in his eyes. They stared at each other a moment. At first, Jonathan wasn't sure which of them would speak first, if at all. Then Frank grinned brightly. "All right, easier question. What would your most essential item be if the world ended right now?"

Vicario perked up for just a second, an answer ready in his mind. But he paused, stopping himself. An awkward minute passed, in which Frank's smile fell and Vicario looked to be fighting with himself on something. Then, in a surprisingly swift motion, Vicario stood, grabbing his tray, and hurried off. Both Jonathan and Frank watched Vicario dump the whole tray in the trash, then leave the cafeteria completely. Jonathan wasn't sure Vicario had even touched any of it.

"Huh." Frank sunk back in his seat, looking as perplexed as Jonathan felt. "I didn't expect he'd run."

Jonathan hummed vaguely in reply. It may have been an impulsive decision, but this was turning out to be more intriguing than he'd expected.

Frank shrugged, then grinned up at Jonathan. "You gonna answer my question at least?"

Jonathan smirked, placing his hand heavily on top of Frank's head. Just enough to push Frank forward in his seat a little. "Hah, but you all ready know my answer."

"It could've changed, unlike your attitude."

Frank half-whined, half-laughed. The kid was such a good sport. As such, Jonathan relented, removing his hand and allowing Frank to sit upright again. "It's still my chem. set." As he answered, Jonathan leaned back in his seat enough to cross one leg over the other, staring off towards the exit to the cafeteria. "The chemicals come in handy. Never know when you'd need explosives or some medical supplies."

"Logical as ever, sir chemist." Frank attempted a posh, serious tone, but ended up giggling. Jonathan smiled along. Frank petered out, then gave a long, dramatic sigh. "I gotta go now, I only came over to talk for a bit."

Jonathan raised his eyebrows, intrigued. "Got plans?"

"Yeah, that Philips girl agreed to help me with some of my English stuff." Frank grinned as he stood and grabbed his tray, giddy as ever. After a moment, however, that giddiness turned into sheepishness. "I mean. Not that I don't think you'd be able to help me with that, too, just."

Jonathan shook his head in what he hoped was an encouraging, understanding sentiment. "Go make friends."

A bright child like Frank couldn't be bound to just his focused brother and someone as dour as Jonathan, lord knew. Frank seemed reassured, thankfully, perking right back up and grinning with confidence. "Thanks. See ya later, Jonathan."

They waved to one another in parting as Frank dashed off to sit with miss Paige Philips and her gang. Jonathan contented himself a minute with watching them all interact with one another, talking and laughing animatedly. They had the Wolf, his band mates, and van Helsing IV with them. Frank and the Fourth must've been new additions, as Jonathan didn't remember them being there last month. Or even last year for the Fourth. Damon was probably keeping closer tabs on them, being so hung up on that Philips girl.

Honestly, though. She wasn't that special, really. Her blonde hair might've been the only real stand out thing, as she insisted it was natural, but in every other respect she was normal. She had a lot of fight, she didn't take any bullshit, and besides that. Couldn't Damon tell she wasn't interested? Niculaie at the very least had to have mentioned it to Damon. Even Natasha or Aglaé had to have said something by this point. It'd been a whole year!

Speaking of, Niculaie, Damon, Natasha, and Aglaé (with Diane, Charon, and Gaëlle) all grouped over, sitting around Jonathan's table with their trays of lunch. Natasha gave a cheery greeting while Charon immediately engaged Diane and Gaëlle in a discussion that seemed like a continuation of an earlier topic. Aglaé, of course, had his nose buried in a book. Niculaie, oddly, smiled very gently at Jonathan. "You tend to smile so much more whenever you're speaking with Ernest."

Damon near cackled. "Kid should realise what a rare treat that is."

Jonathan levelled them both with his best uninterested expression, hoping to god his embarrassment wouldn't show through. "Whatever, Kingpin."

Damon really laughed at that while Niculaie frowned. How the two of them ever became friends and stayed that way, Jonathan would never understand. Even though, on the inside, he knew exactly how easily Damon could work his charms on someone. That show-off had been born lucky, a trait Jonathan certainly didn't share. But the jerk did make use of it to help out Niculaie when it mattered, so maybe Jonathan could ease up. Just a little.

An earlier thought came back to him and he decided in favour of pursuing it. "Hey, Asheford, humour me a moment. Why's the name 'Vicario' ring a bell?"

For a brief second, Damon's eyes went wide. Like he'd been caught off-guard. Even Niculaie's expression turned to shock in that moment and he turned to Damon in concern. Before Niculaie had a chance to say something, however, Damon recovered and smoothed himself out with a smirk. "Had a run-in with the Fireball, eh?"

"Is, um." Niculaie paused, a little too excited, and continued with much more calm. "How was he doing? Did you get to talk to him long?"

Jonathan, a little taken aback, frowned at them. "No, he. He barely told me his name before he bolted. Am I missing something here?"

"Dante Vicario is the son of Lietta and Caro Vicario." Aglaé, surprisingly, spoke up, drawing their attention. Aglaé didn't even look up from his book, turning a page idly as he continued. "The Vicario family are the founders and owners of the world's leading company in computer science research and development."

Damon sat back, satisfied. "Exactly."

Jonathan grimaced, a little in frustration and a lot in annoyance. "And how again does this relate to me knowing the name?"

"The Vicarios have been my family's clients for years." Damon waved a hand dismissively, his other arm crossed over his chest. "Maybe you heard your mom mention them or saw the name on one of her court documents."

Jonathan might've relented, might've agreed at that, but Niculaie's entire posture drooped in almost a guilty way and no, Jonathan wasn't about to buy that easy an explanation. There had to be a little more than just that. For the moment, though, he settled for nodding along and dropping it. Damon quickly moved the topic along to what they should do about the computers in the towers and Jonathan tuned him out, opting to watch the rest of the cafeteria.

Vicario never returned. Maybe that was a good thing.

#Momo writes stuff #Game Kids need their own tag #Dante #Jonathan #Frank #Damon #Niculaie #Aglaé #au: we didn't need you #I might as well tag that #Jonathan was a fun write holy shit #I wish I got to write him more for the main story

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calangkoh · 7 years

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Character Breakdown: Roy Mustang (2003 Anime)

Time to talk about this awful person. He sucks. And I love him to pieces. He’s a fantastic character. It’s often overlooked that the 2003 anime had hella strong characters (complex, realistic, ambiguous, and meaningful to the well-woven themes of this deeply symbolic series while retaining identities outside of being puppets to the overarching plot), and Roy Mustang was one of them.

I. The Flame Alchemist, Hero of Ishval

II. His goal to be Fuhrer

III. His relationship with Ed

IV. His resolution, and what it all means

I. First a quick rundown: we first really learn about the “Eastern Rebellion” in Flame vs. Fullmetal, where we first see Roy’s PTSD, and his status of the ‘Hero of Ishval’. Later, we learn that it was a massacre from Marcoh. Roy is already disgusted enough by his slaughter of the Ishvalan people, but it’s the order to kill the Rockbells that drives him to an attempted suicide. Initially, I was in the same boat as everyone else who found this problematic--that of all the people he killed, it was the killing of two white doctors that affected him most. But it’s deeper than that. We already know Roy is filled with guilt for the slaughter: he developed a human transmutation theory because of it. In a later episode where he needs to use his alchemy for “crowd control,” he retreats into an emotionless persona. (His remark to Hawkeye, while cold and cruel, makes sense with his PTSD.) So, his order to kill the Rockbells wasn’t more important than other deaths he caused, just different, because it made the military corruption all the more obvious to him and the viewer. (People become soldiers to protect their country, especially in Roy’s case. Most likely the soldiers of the massacre held on to faith that their government was doing all of this for a good reason. It takes the deaths of the people you meant to protect to realize that the government doesn’t actually care about them. Then there’s how it reveals the institutional racism that plays a part as well. 03 isn’t sloppy with how it handles race, so I believe that we are supposed to feel weird about him seemingly being more affected by the Rockbells’ deaths. The race issue is an entirely different analysis, however--one that as a white woman, I don’t feel justified to get into beyond what I’ve already mentioned.) It was also the death that he’d end up hiding from.

Mustang is in Resembool for different reasons than Mangahood at the start of the series. One, he’s coming in response to one of Ed and Al’s letters looking for Hohenheim, but he labels his visit as “nostalgia, or misplaced curiosity.” It’s likely that he wanted to finally face the Rockbells, but got sidetracked with the events that unfolded while he was there. It’s no secret he’s cowardly about it. When Ed makes an offhand comment about Winry (”I’m going to see my doctor...you know the one”), Mustang shuts Edward down with cheap mockery (which lacks the usual banter-y smugness...he actually intended to hurt Edward with this comment). When he visits Gracia, he decides not to come into the house when he sees Winry looking down at him from the window. He remarks to Hawkeye, “Dealing with the living is a lot scarier than the dead. Give me a ghost any day.”

Roy is more clearly affected by the events in Ishval than he is in Brotherhood. He’s a more solemn character, and some key differences in his reactions to shared events between the two series really highlights this. When it’s revealed Scar is Ishvalan, Brotherhood Roy just displays a general shock, while 03 Roy looks down sadly and says sardonically “Now we know why he’s killing us.” I’ve mentioned how the useless-in-the-rain scene differs greatly. This isn’t a criticism of Brotherhood Roy (I like him equally, but for different reasons), but just a highlight of how differently Roy is interpreted and written in ‘03. He’s clearly still dealing with the aftermath of the genocide, while Brotherhood!Roy has moved on to pursue a noble goal. Speaking of this goal, the motivation for becoming fuhrer differs as well, which brings me to the next aspect of 03!Roy’s character...

II. As @combustiblegarbage says, Roy’s goal to become fuhrer was never really about becoming fuhrer, but rather about redemption. It’s unknown why Roy joined the military in the first place, but Hughes seems to imply in the above scene that it was for naive reasons of wanting to protect people.

Maes: ”Did you think if you became a state alchemist you could fix anything? Bring back anyone who died in a controversial war? Invent some utopian world?”

Roy: *smiles* “I don’t know.”

As far as we know, Roy attempted suicide twice, and by the time Maes visits him, he had developed theories of human transmutation. He considers himself a coward for not going through with killing himself, but believes himself unworthy of living, so the only thing he feels he can do is make his life worthwhile. He wants to do something to make up for his mistakes. And he arrives at the conclusion of becoming fuhrer.

But as we know, this is a misguided goal. His reasoning implies that it’s not his fault for following orders, and that he could do everything better if he was in charge (gosh what a prideful thing to believe). I’ll get into this in my final point. For now, a quick mention on Roy’s acting abilities.

While it’s not as explicit (since we don’t have Madame Christmas), Roy’s womanizing and lazy attitude is just as much of a front as it is in Mangahood. This becomes apparent when he vocalizes his desire to be furhrer and is called out on it. He pauses. It’s a significant pause, as though he’s considering how to play off his treacherous statements as nonthreatening. Then, he goes off on his ridiculous mini-skirts skit, which by 03 Roy’s personality, is uncharacteristically overbearing. (Other than his “I LOVE DOGS” rant, in which I agree with Havoc has to do with him being ‘manic’ from Ed challenging him to a duel, Roy is a person who keeps his cool.) Later on in the series, we see Roy go on a date with Grace from the flower shop. While his team assumes it’s just another date their womanizing boss is going on, by the faces Roy makes and the context of the date, we can tell it’s all for information. We see Roy collaborate with Armstrong as well in the same episode. He uses Havoc’s date with Catherine to get a letter from Alex. Roy is always using situations to his advantage, in ways that make him remain unthreatening to outsiders.

And Team Mustang is more or less aware of this, and has mad respect for him. (I even interpret Havoc’s response to the mini-skirt rant as playing along with the act.)

Havoc: “Mustang cares about that stuff.”

Ed: “Or wants a promotion.”

Havoc: *slams on breaks* “It’s true, kid. Mustang’s no political novice. He’ll do whatever it takes to move up the chain around here. But if that’s all he’s about, we wouldn’t follow him.”

III. Roy’s relationship with Ed is fascinating to me, because he’s simultaneously protective of him, while also being unforgiving and sometimes cruel in trying to expose him to the harsh realities of life. It’s almost as if Roy is fine exposing Ed to these truths as long as he’s in control of it. He’ll be smug or indifferent to Ed’s suffering as long as he has the teen wrapped around his finger, or as long as he’s not left in the dark. As soon as Ed starts getting into trouble without Roy knowing, or without him having the ability to protect him in case something goes horribly wrong, that’s when Roy gets angry.

At first, Riza’s comment seemed off to me, since Roy never really expressed care when they were in danger. I then realized two things: one being that Roy’s irrationality must happen largely offscreen, and Riza’s comment being our hint to that. Roy seems to always know everything that’s going on with the Elrics before the plot takes off, and there was a three-year gap of military life we don’t know about. I assume that (a) Roy has a period between sending them off on missions and eventually retrieving information on the boys where he becomes overly concerned about them and (b) one reason he seems to know everything Ed does is because he’s overprotective and cares about their safety, and he just likes to play it off as a power move when facing them (as a way to keep them from getting into trouble that he’d be unable to rescue them from). The other thing I realized, is that her saying this is more like a “hey. look at his previous actions in the series with a new perspective,” from the writers. All his smugness with the boys is just as much a front as the rest of his persona. He keeps tabs on them. He tries too hard to be in control of them at all times. He acts manipulative. All of it is his (albeit horrible and unhealthy) way of caring for them while trying to hide it.

And after this, we see Roy’s more genuine care for Ed. He gives a loving look when he stops Archer from drawing his gun at Ed’s outburst. He gets visibly stressed out by Ed talking to Archer (a man Roy rightfully distrusts) alone and making deals with him. He tries to advise him. After the events of Liore, he aggressively tracks down Ed, and when he finally faces him, he yells at him for not coming to him for protection.

“I’m not chasing you because I was commanded to; I’m doing it because I’m pissed. Now why did you two run away without asking for my help first?!”

Roy should know that Ed doesn’t really have reason to trust him with all the times he low-key blackmailed him, but somewhere deep down he’s offended that Ed couldn’t see that Roy actually does care for him. He’s angry that Ed didn’t trust him enough to ask for his help and to leave him in the dark, and he’s angry with himself for not being able to be there for him. It all goes back to Roy needing to feel in control of the boys in order to know that they’re safe.

EDIT: It’s also important to mention how Roy his the truth about Ishval from Ed (another reason Ed doesn’t trust Roy). For someone who believes Ed to be familiar with the harshness of the world and freely exposes him to it, the Liore case was something he couldn’t bring himself to talk about with Ed. He said his reasoning explicitly. It was too much for Ed to handle. He knew it would psychologically break Ed (and it did), meaning Roy never gave Ed anything he didn’t think he could handle.

[[Though this is a controversial viewpoint, I do believe Roy was a (again, albeit horrible and flawed) parental figure toward Ed. His state in CoS seems to solidify that he felt responsible for protecting him, blaming himself for his disappearance. From the start, Roy takes the Elrics under his wing and guides them. Even Brotherhood!Roy wasn’t as ‘parental’ as 03!Roy was; BH!Roy was much more of a peer/older sibling figure, at least in comparison.]]

IV. Just as Ed and Al had to battle their sins (Ed and Al battling Sloth, and Al battling Wrath was also quite symbolic), Mustang battled his: Pride, or “preoccupation with oneself.” As I mentioned, Roy’s motivation for becoming fuhrer is a less noble goal than it is in Brotherhood, because it’s still motivated by selfish reasons: a desire to redeem himself and erase his guilt (even though it likely wouldn’t succeed), and because of complacency in the corrupt system (a major theme of 03) and that in achieving power he would be able to ‘do it better,’ so to speak.

Bradley is Pride in 2003 for a few reasons, but the one that correlates with Roy is his statement of believing himself to be a guardian angel to humans by doing things in favor of a (wrong and corrupted worldview provided by Dante) bigger picture. This is essentially an ends-justify-the-means attitude in favor of bringing an ideal to fruition. And this is exactly what Roy says was wrong with his attitude in the car scene, and again strengthens later.

“The end justifies the means when it comes to achieving my ultimate goal. Back then, that just seemed like the right stance for me to take...[in response to Ed saying he wouldn’t be able to become fuhrer] That may be, but I can’t let him get away with what he’s done.”

...

“I didn’t do this for politics. I couldn’t forgive myself for being blind this long. It was the only way to atone for the friends I didn’t save.”

Two major themes of the series are present with Roy in this sense: “Even when our eyes are closed, there exists a world outside of us and our dreams” and the theme of equivalent exchange run parallel with this development.

The former refers to how no matter how much we want something, we can’t turn a blind eye to how those wants coming true would affect the world around us. We can’t ignore what we sacrifice to selfishly achieve those dreams. AKA, Roy’s dream to be fuhrer.

The latter refers to how equivalent exchange isn’t a clean rule. In Roy’s case, he does the right thing by defeating Pride, and by shounen anime standards, doesn’t that mean he should somehow get what he wants in the end as a reward? 2003 says no. Sometimes you can do the right thing and end up losing everything because of it, but no matter how unappealing that possibility seems, it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, because we’re not independent from the world around us. We’re a part of it, and we’re only as good as we collectively make it. The reward should be in that. This further ties into “there never will be a war that isn’t in some part caused by all of us.”

So Roy’s journey adds to the themes of 03, just as most characters do. His arc is beautiful in that sense. In what it represents. Like Ed, he’s a deeply flawed and sometimes horrible person, but you need these complexities to get your point across. He works wonderfully with the narrative.

#meta #roy mustang #fma 03 #fma 2003 #fullmetal alchemist #calangkoh

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thestuckylibrary · 7 years

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Mods’ Reads: June 2017

New mods, new features!

We know we are very behind on our recs, so by the suggestion of a lovely anon, we’ve decided to compile a list of fics we’ve read this month. This fandom always gives us amazing stories to gush about, which we are very thankful for :D

From new fics to old ones, our picks are under the cut:

Mod Karin

And we’ll be slow, honey lovers (‘til the clocks go forward again) by stellam_ignem

But he knows he wants to stay, because he can’t stand not hearing Steve’s voice, or not seeing that smile on that face, or that solemn look of kindness whenever he hands over a few dollars to the homeless veteran on the side of the street. He can’t stand not making Steve laugh. He loves the the subtle smirk in his dares and the snark in his jokes, and the jerk in his brow when he’s lost in thought, or the way he smiles whenever they kiss and thumbs across Bucky’s lower back. Bucky chokes a little, on air, and gently wraps his arms back around Steve’s neck to kiss him.

or: bucky’s a boxer/writer and steve’s the english teacher who walks in on his life.

Fortunate Resolutions of In-Field Complications a.k.a. Dumb Luck by Katharoses, Lasenby_Heathcote

The mission was simple. The mission wasn’t anything at all. We didn’t have to fight, we didn’t have to break in or steal anything or blow anything up - or at least nothing specific. The mission was simply to create a lot of bluster in the wrong direction. But then, the mission doesn’t always go according to plan.

If They Haven’t Learned Your Name by silentwalrus

Steve gets out of the hospital in two days, but just barely. “I’m fine,” he tells Sam, Nurse Eunjung and the phalanx of doctors assigned to make sure Captain America didn’t bleed out and die and get bad PR all over their nice clean hospital. “I have an advanced healing factor. It’s fine. See? I’m standing.”

“That is not standing,” Sam tells him.

“You’re bending the IV stand,” Nurse Eunjung adds pointedly. “Let go and sit down, they don’t grow on trees.”

aka Steve and Bucky’s Global Honeymoon Revenge World Tour.

Pieces Were Stolen From Me by perfect_plan

Steve Rogers is drawn to the mysterious man who has started to frequent his gallery but has no idea how is life is about to change just by being his friend.

Werewolf? There Wolf by leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)

After the car accident that cost him his arm and the endless rehabilitation that got him his shiny metal Stark Industries replacement, Bucky’s happy for a break from people. The house in the forest is peaceful, town’s a fair distance away, and he’s got no neighbours…except maybe a blue-eyed wolf and possibly a naked guy named Steve.

(PS: Steve is the wolf.)

Mod Blue I (re)read a lot so I’m just going to list them without their summaries or we’ll all be scrolling forever.

The Way Out Is The Way Down by Speranza

Coming and Going by Speranza

20th Century Limited by Speranza

What We Asked For From Each Other by Speranza

Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square by Speranza

All The Angels and The Saints by Speranza

Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes by Speranza

Coming Out Party by Speranza

the nightmare from which I am trying to awake by Speranza

Dishonor On Your Cow by mandarou

The Avengers Hate Club by notebooksandlaptops

Nietzsche is Dead by mambo

Kiss the Cook by mambo

half awake in a fake empire by idrilka

Behind closed doors: collected oral histories of queer community in New York, 1930-1945. doi 10.1999/journal.amhistqstud.32557038 by wobblyheadeddollcaper

back seat drive by silentwalrus

Workplace Hazards by AggressiveWhenStartled

Mod Julia

broken people (living under loaded gun) by obsessivereader, Slaughter_Me

“It’s him, Nat.”

“He may look like Steve, but that’s not Steve.” Distress mars her calm, professional mask, a sign of how shaken she is. “You saw how many men he killed, the way he did it. That’s not Steve.”

Until You Wear a Groove in the World by rohkeutta

Steve saves him.

In a way, Bucky wishes he hadn’t, because at least then Bucky could’ve pretended that those letters from Spokane and Tucson and Philadelphia never arrived. Bucky could’ve died imagining that Steve was safely in Brooklyn, clinging to life with the skin of his teeth, maybe taking Rebecca and Alice out dancing.

And Shadows Will Fall Behind byleveragehunters

The world was full of things no one could have expected.

Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes never expected to fall from a train into decades of torture and killing.

HYDRA never expected their perfect Winter Soldier’s programming to shatter.

And Bucky, who’d once been the Winter Soldier, who was now an auxiliary to the Avengers, never expected to look down from a rooftop in New York City, where he was keeping watch over the world’s most ineffectual aspirant supervillains, and see a tiny ball of angry sunshine. Fierce and fearless, he loosed feelings in Bucky that he’d thought were gone forever.

we are the things that we do for fun by Nonymos

Going to a professional Dom may be one of the weirdest things Bucky’s ever done. Especially since this skinny Steve Rogers guy doesn’t really look the part.

But hey, they might just find a way to make this work.

let’s see where we wake up tomorrow by kblaze2

Steve’s gone on his second tour. Bucky gets a dog. There is no correlation. Really. Shut up, Nat.

Feeling I’ll Forget, I’m In Love Now by smithsonianstucky

Five years after the events in D.C., Steve and Bucky are living in Brooklyn and working through Bucky’s last stage of recovery: refamiliarizing himself with touch. At the suggestion of his therapist, they adopt a cat and wonder what changes the pet will make in their lives.

a trip to the grope zoo by mwestbelle

Bucky spends some quality time with Steve’s quality tits.

The Joy of Little Things by obsessivereader, Sealcat

or, how Steve ends up working for a dragon with a very odd sense of humor

Korpimaan kutsu by Feanor_in_leather_pants, rohkeutta

The Wise Man teaches him sometimes if he catches Steve puttering around the woods: how to read the trees and the moss, when to listen to the birds and when it’s better to leave their advice untaken. He teaches Steve about the bears and why you’re never supposed to call them by their real name; tells him grittier and truer stories about the woodsfolk than the old ladies in the village.

Dark Lights of Brooklyn by jwdish98

Steve Rogers is a private investigator who is barely skating by. He spends more time in his office than his apartment, and he continues to watch all his friends live out their lives while he sits on the sidelines.

However, when a case falls into his lap that dredges up past mistakes Steve’s life starts to veer off course- in a good way. Probably.

(He’s not entirely sure yet.)

Send Nudes! by DizzyRedhead, TrishArgh

When Steve decided to cosplay Captain America, one of his favorite TV characters, at a convention, he didn’t expect to meet a Winter Soldier cosplayer who looks like he stepped right off the screen (and has a great ass). He didn’t expect to hook up with Bucky, or to find out that they live in the same part of Brooklyn. He definitely didn’t expect the sexting, or the continued hooking up, or the dinner dates.

Steve didn’t expect any of this. Especially not the feelings.

Magic Fingers by lillupon

Steve is just a simple hairdresser.

The Only Familiar Thing by brideofquiet

Steve takes a breath, steels himself, and asks, “Where are we going, Buck?”

Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one driving, Steve.”

so pop the hood, see what’s good by Bellakitse, ravyn_ashling

While celebrating his birthday Steve meets a charming guy with beautiful blue eyes and an easy smile, going home with him for the night should be the end of it. Instead it’s only the start when his boss and friend hires him as his new mechanic.

Mod Dee

Someone get this boy a drink by fingersnapstothat

Sam recommends Steve get a Tinder. He does. It proves to be the best and worst idea ever.

An Idiot’s Romance by captainsthve

So. Steve’s not the smoothest person.

Which is why he’s currently knocking on Sam Wilson’s door and groaning, “Sam, I’m hopeless.” as soon as the door swings open.

Sam just rolls his eyes and lets Steve in. “That is not new information. What happened?”

So Steve recounts the events of the morning with Sam listening patiently and only teasing a little bit. “You know Steve, I’m going to write a biography about you one day and I’m gonna make millions because no one will believe that Captain America is so hopelessly in love with his best friend that he turns into a middle schooler with a crush.”

aka the one where Steve realizes he’s in love and also realizes he’s horribly bad at flirting.

only one my arms will ever hold by wearing_tearing

Like most stories about Bucky Barnes and his questionable and sometimes terrible life choices, this one starts because he decides not to listen to Natasha’s cryptic and mostly annoying advice.

He decides not to listen, and he hunts down and kills a deer during that month’s full moon run with his pack and leaves its dead body on Steve Rogers’s front step.

Steve, the man Bucky kind-of-possibly-maybe-absolutely is in love with.

Bucky would try to smother himself after that one, but he’s learned that werewolves are hard to kill.

Or: the four stages of courting Steve Rogers.

Dishonor On Your Cow by mandarou

“Sergeant Barnes?”

“Oh, hell no, don’t call him that, man,” Sam warned.

“Captain Fuck Off!” Barnes shouted over him. “Fight me!”

Steve didn’t know whether to laugh or just slink away. He managed to combine the two by pacing two steps and snorting instead. Like a bull.

“I’m gonna need you to calm your ass, Barnes,” Sam said as he went limp again, obstructing Barnes’s struggling under him. “This is so undignified. That is Captain goddamn America.”

“Captain goddamn America!” Barnes repeated, louder. And angrier.

Steve cleared his throat again. “I’ve been looking for you,” he told Barnes.

“I hope you brought lube this time!” Barnes shouted.

perhaps it is to avoid some great sadness by onibi

Steve: I took an online quiz and it told me I’d be a cup of black coffee. It says that my good qualities are that I’m friendly, adaptable, and low maintenance.

Bucky: and what did it say you were at your worst a lazy jerk who harasses his boyfriend with inane bullshit online instead of coming in and talking to him face to face

or: in which steve gets really into online personality quizzes, everybody suffers, and steve is a huge sap about how much he loves his boyfriend

I love you like rlb by tolieawake

I love you like rlb has become a well-known, accepted and valuable component of American vernacular. The meaning of the letters 'rlb’ is unknown, but is uniformly considered to be a statement of a great romantic love, commitment and sacrifice.

It was Dernier as first said it. Steve never imagined that something like that could have survived the war and all the years in between.

In which Tony goes insane trying to figure out why that phrase affects the Cap so much, Bucky teases the press, and Steve and Bucky love each other like rlb.

#mod picks

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jlalafics · 7 years

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“On the Night You Were Born”-an Everlark one-shot

It’s definitely been awhile, but it’s @keelaree‘s birthday and I’m coming out for my girl!

Have mercy...I’m still a little out of my writing element...

Summary: A fateful, rainy night brings an interesting patient into Dr. Peeta Mellark’s ER…

Title—but not plot—taken from the famous children’s book.

On the Night You Were Born

She walked into the emergency room of Panem Hospital, quiet and unassuming. Her thick, ebony locks pulled into a ropy braid that rested against hunched, exhausted shoulders.

In the hubbub of the lobby, packed with late-night drunken injuries and feverish children with their parents, Dr. Peeta Mellark noticed her right away.

The young woman looked around carefully, almost confused as to where she should go first. Her eyes—a sharp, steeled grey—swept from one side of the room to the other before deciding to read the nearest sign in front of her.

Dr. Mellark’s shift had just ended. The last of his patients just now being sent home with an arm cast and some strong painkillers—the usual for when you decide to take a dare while full of tequila.

And Peeta was tired—so damn tired, but the swoop of her shoulders and the dampness of her large sweater led him over to her.

“Excuse me.” She immediately turned to him, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. Peeta gave her a smile, holding up his hospital badge. “I’m a doctor. Did you need help?”

“You don’t look like a doctor,” the woman replied brusquely. Peeta noticed her tremble as she tried to straighten herself. “I’m alright. I can take care of myself…and anyone else that might be coming along.”

Her hand went defensively to her full belly.

Ah, she was pregnant; about thirty-two weeks, from what he could gauge—and on the verge of another contraction.

“I’m sure you’re right,” he told her easily. “But, why don’t I walk you to triage? That’s usually where new patients first go.”

“I thought I was supposed to check in first,” the girl replied. However, she followed him to the small room, adjacent to the waiting area. “That’s what it said on the sign.”

“You’re with me,” Peeta said with an easy smile. “I’m Dr. Peeta Mellark, by the way.”

Sizing him up quickly, she nodded before replying, “I’m Katniss Everdeen.” Her hand went to her belly. “And, this is my baby.”

Inside the room, he led her to a seat next to a scale. “Let me grab one of the triage nurses.”

“No need!” A cheerful voice rang out as a pretty, light-haired woman pulling a rolling vitals station entered the room. “I’m here!”

“Oh good, you get Effie,” Peeta informed Katniss. “She’s the best nurse in the ER.”

“I thought you were going home,” Effie remarked in concern. “You’ve been here going on two days.”

“What’s one more day?” His eyes went to the tired woman, who is currently letting out a labored breath. “Plus, she needs me.”

Katniss scowled. “I don’t need you!”

“Oh honey, when your baby is crowning, you’re going to be begging for him to stay,” Effie said. “Now, open up and let me take your temperature.” Begrudgingly, Katniss opened her mouth. The nurse wrapped the blood pressure cuff around her arm. “This will only take a sec—” There was a beep and Effie removed the probe from Katniss’ mouth. “Perfect—though your blood pressure is slightly elevated. And, how can it not be? You are having a baby.”

“Is there anyone I should call?” Peeta asked Katniss. “The father, perhaps?”

“He’s in Cabo on spring break with the rest of our graduating class.” Her eyes clouded over. “Don’t have a family…” Her gaze went to her stomach. “…except for this little one. So no—I have no one.”

Peeta looked to Effie, whose own eyes were somber with sympathy for the young woman.

There was something about Katniss; that fragility wrapped in such a hard shell. Somehow, he knew that she was on the verge of breaking with no one there to catch her.

Not on his watch.

Kneeling in front of Katniss, Peeta gave her a resolute nod.

“You have me.”

++++++

“Have you delivered any babies?”

Peeta turned to the woman currently sitting in the hospital bed, her hands primly on her belly and an IV patched atop her right arm.

“Not many,” he replied. “I’ve mostly been in the ER. Sometimes, I’m on another ward. It’s not a huge hospital since we’re in such a small town but I like it. Are you from here?”

Katniss shook her head as he pulled up a chair next to her.

“I’m from District 12,” she explained. “Came here to go to college on a full scholarship. Then, I fell for my TA in my Anthropology class—and here I am.” Katniss smile wryly. “Did you know he gave me a C? Almost damn near wrecked my GPA.”

“The bastard!” Peeta retorted. “Does he know?”

“He knows.” Katniss smoothed the sheet over her legs. “The thing is, he just doesn’t care. Cato was always carefree about things.”

“Cato? Blech. I already hate him,” he said.

Katniss snorted, her lips rising in a laughter. “I’m with you on that.”

“Don’t you two make an adorable pair?” Another doctor sauntered into the room, a smirk behind his thick beard. He looked to Peeta and winked. “I thought you were too busy for a social life, Dr. Mellark. I’m going to have a bunch of disappointed nurses, both male and female, when I tell them about you having your own little one.”

“Unfortunately, Dr. Abernathy, this little miracle doesn’t belong to me,” Peeta explained before looking to Katniss, whose face was suddenly scarlet. “I will be here though—for the delivery.”

“You don’t have to, Dr. Mellark—”

Peeta placed his hand over Katniss’. “I thought I told you to call me Peeta.”

She looked to their joined hands before meeting his eyes. “Peeta, you really don’t have to stay. I mean it. I’m fine.”

“You’re going to need me,” he declared.

She bit her lower lip, examining him as he roved over her pretty features. Her eyes were almond-shaped and large…penetrating…she had the richest skin—a lovely olive hue which he hoped that her child would inherit.

Finally, Katniss shook her head in exasperated resignation.

“I need you.”

Dr. Abernathy looked up from the fetal monitor papers that he was examining and gave them a roguish grin.

“I’ll go tell the nurses.”

++++++

“So, your parents?”

Katniss breathed through the final bit of her last contraction before meeting his eyes.

“Gone, along with my younger sister. A car accident during my first year of college,” she said hollowly. Resting back against the upright bed, her eyes watered lost in her memories. “In some ways, it’s better this way. That way they don’t have to see me this low…”

She burst into tears, her shoulders shaking and Peeta lowered the bed railing before reaching over and pulling her close.

“Hey…hey…” His hand went to her back and he could feel how frail she actually was. “I’m here. We’re going to get through this and, in the end, you’re going to have this beautiful baby.”

“How do you know that it’s going to be okay?” she cried. Katniss pulled away, her complexion blotchy and shiny from her sobs. “You don’t even know me. I could be a psycho!”

Peeta smiled bemusedly. “Are you a psycho?”

“Ask my roommate Johanna when she comes back from visiting her parents,” Katniss responded. “She’ll tell you all about my hormonal fits, my constant paranoia, and lack of knowledge when it comes to being a responsible adult and mother.”

He lifted her chin tenderly. “You care, Katniss. I know you do. Or else you wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t worry so much. You worry because you love.”

“How do you know me so well?” she asked.

“Because…” Peeta stopped short of answering her question. He wasn’t exactly sure. He just knew he could see her. He could see straight through her tough exterior that Katniss so wanted the world to see her as.

But, she was so much more than that.

In only a span of three hours, Katniss Everdeen had taken his heart.

For someone who thought he never believed in love-at-first-sight, Peeta was starting to question if he even knew himself at all.

“Because…shit—I just do!” She laughed wetly and he felt his own mouth rise at the sound of her lithe laugh. “Can we just move on?”

Wiping her eyes, Katniss rested back, her hands going to her belly as a heavy breath escaped her body.

“After this contraction, you’re totally telling me about your family.”

++++++

“My parents live about an hour away in my hometown,” Peeta explained. “We own a bakery; a business that has been passed down from son to son. My brother Brady is running it right now with his wife, Cashmere. My other brother, Ian, is working on the West Coast as a financer.”

“And you?” Katniss looked to him curiously. “Any wives or girlfriends that I might have to fight off?”

“No, I’m too busy for that,” he informed her. “You never really meet people when you’re in an ER or giving someone a rectal exam.”

“You met me in the ER,” Katniss offered. “Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll let you give me a rectal exam.”

“I just came in on the tail end of what seems to be an interesting conversation.” Dr. Abernathy walked further into the room, going to the glove box on the wall. “I’m going to do a little examination, sweetheart. Won’t take too long, but we need to see how this baby is coming along.” He met Peeta’s eyes. “You want to help?”

Peeta nodded, going to the room’s counter sink to watch his hands. He quickly put on gloves as Dr. Abernathy asked Katniss to scoot and open her legs. Joining the man at the foot of the bed, he did a quick exam, gauging that she was about halfway along. Her doctor began to probe carefully and Peeta could see that Katniss was tense.

“Relax honey,” he told her soothingly. “It’ll be over real soon.”

Peeta pretended not to notice Dr. Abernathy’s quick look at him.

“You’re at five, Katniss.” The doctor removed his gloves and quickly disposed of them. “I’m going to need you to rest for now because the labor will just get a little more intense from here on out.”

“Oh goody,” Katniss replied with a roll of her eyes.

“I knew I liked you,” the doctor said before looking to Peeta. “Can I see you out in the hall real quick, Dr. Mellark?”

Peeta nodded at the tightness of the man’s gaze as he removed his own gloves and threw them into the garbage.

“I’ll be back, Katniss,” he assured her. “Just take deep breaths.”

Katniss gave Peeta a bright smile before focusing on her breathing exercises.

In the hallway, Dr. Abernathy whipped around at him. “You know that you’re not getting credited hours for this, right?”

“I know I’m not,” Peeta argued. “I’m here of my own free will. Katniss doesn’t have anyone in the world right now. She needs someone by her side—and it’s going to be me.”

“Until when?” the good doctor inquired.

To that, Peeta could not reply.

++++++

It was close.

He had been in the hospital for almost three days.

Stepping back into the room, Peeta found Katniss asleep. The contractions were getting intense, but an epidural had brought her some relief and now all they could do was wait. Putting a cup of water on her bedside table, he sat in what was now his chair and watched her sleep.

There was something soothing about the rhythmic motion of her breaths and the way it made her belly slowly rise then fall. Soon, the belly would be replaced with a baby—a new life—and the thought made him even more sure that his career choice was for him.

Almost on its own free will, his hand went to the bump.

“Hey there baby,” he spoke quietly. “You might not recognize my voice when you come out, so I’ll try to be as calm as I can when I see you. I’m Peeta. I’m a doctor at the hospital that you’re being born in. I’m sure that you’re probably busy trying to travel through the birth canal, but I just wanted to say—” His gaze went to Katniss’ calm face. “—that your mother loves you very much. I haven’t known her for very long but it’s the first thing I noticed when I met her. She loves you with all her heart. You’re lucky, baby. You are loved.”

Katniss’ hand joined his atop her belly and Peeta met those grey eyes, willing his heart to stop racing as they stared at one another.

“You are loved,” he repeated just a degree above whispering.

She heard him anyway.

++++++

“Okay, sweetheart,” Dr. Abernathy urged. “Just bear down and push!”

Katniss closed her eyes to focus, her face glistening with the sweat of labored concentration. They had hit a snag and there seemed to be no movement when it came to getting the baby out.

“That’s it, Katniss…relax…”

The doctor looked to Peeta and shook his head. Nothing had happened.

He nodded back before turning to the tired mother. “Katniss—the baby can’t seem to get through. We might need to look into another option.”

Katniss immediately shook her head. “No, not yet. I want to do this. I want to push this baby out.”

Peeta turned back to the doctor. “What do you think?”

Dr. Abernathy sighed but nodded. “The next one, we’ll give it another go. If nothing happens, then we’re getting the baby out using another method.”

“Okay,” Peeta agreed before looking to Katniss. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Keep me distracted,” she told him breathlessly. “I’m thinking so much about this that my body can’t relax and get the baby out.”

“How?”

“I don’t know,” Katniss replied. “You’ll think of something, even if you have to sing. I’m a sucker for a crooner.” She gave him an impish but exhausted smile. “We’re going to do this.”

He took her hand. “Together.”

Katniss squeezed back. “Together.”

“Okay, you two,” the doctor called, amusement in his voice. “It’s go time!”

Nodding, Katniss pushed her chin to her chest, bearing down as her eyes squeezed shut.

“Well I hope that I don't fall in love with you…’Cause falling in love just makes me blue…”

“What are you doing?” she asked tightly, her forehead falling to the crook of his neck.

“I’m singing,” Peeta replied. “It was the song my parents danced to at their wedding. It’s a favorite of mine.”

Katniss nodded. “Keep going.”

“Well the music plays and you display Your heart for me to see I had a beer and now I hear you Calling out for me And I hope that I don't fall in love with you…”

“Head is out,” Dr. Abernathy declared. “You’re doing great, Katniss.”

“It’s Peeta’s singing,” Katniss said. “A siren song, I think.”

His lips pressed into her forehead.

“Well the night does funny things inside a man These old tom-cat feelings you don't understand Well I turn around to look at you You light a cigarette I wish I had the guts to bum one But we've never met And I hope that I don't fall in love with you—”

Just like that, a shrill cry filled the room and Peeta could feel Katniss relax against him.

“A siren alright.” The doctor presented the baby to Katniss. “You’ve got a healthy girl.”

Peeta quickly reacted, going to help Dr. Abernathy by taking a blanket and swaddling the screaming baby.

“Good job,” the doctor said to Peeta with a wink. “Go introduce Katniss to her daughter.”

The little one quickly calmed as Peeta placed her into Katniss’ arms. “She’s beautiful.”

The new mother stared at the baby in wonder, her eyes roving over the newborn’s pink skin and matted dark hair.

“I can hardly believe she’s here,” Katniss replied in a subdued voice.

“What are you going to name her?” he asked as he sat down to watch the two bond.

Katniss’ hand reached to trace the babe’s red lips, drawing them into a smile.

“Her name is Primrose.”

++++++

“And then what happened?”

The little girl stared up at her mother, blue eyes filled with excitement.

Katniss flicked her daughter’s nose. “Well, Rosie—you were cleaned and measured; 7 pounds, six ounces. Then, you demanded food for the next two days!”

“You’re silly, Mommy!” Rosie declared as she crawled to her mother’s side on the bed. “And, then what happened?”

There was a knock at the door and the doctor quietly entered.

“On the night you were born, Primrose Mellark, your Daddy came into our lives,” Katniss continued as the blond-haired man sat in a familiar chair. “Your Godfather brought you into this world and your Godmother took my vitals.”

Katniss had no idea at the time that Effie was married to Haymitch.

Rosie turned to her father. “Daddy, is this true?”

Peeta grinned, winking at his wife before looking to the five-year-old. “Word for word, love.”

“And will you sing to the baby to get him out like you did with me?”

“If he is as stubborn as your mother, then it’s possible,” Peeta replied. Katniss gave him faux-scowl before he reached to press a kiss to the top of her hand. “But, I know I’m going to fall in love with him just like I fell in love with you and your mommy.”

“Your Aunt Johanna is probably waiting to take you to her place so you could have your girls’ night,” Katniss told her daughter. “Did you bring your bag?”

“Yup. Aunt Effie put it at the nurses station,” Rosie said. Quickly, she hopped off the bed but not before placing a kiss on her mother’s cheek and on the bulging belly that was her brother. “Bye baby. See you soon!” Wrapping her tiny arms around her father’s neck, she gave him an Eskimo kiss.

“Love you, Rosie-doodle,” Peeta whispered into her ear.

“Love you, Daddy-doodle,” their daughter said. “Good luck.”

She hurried out of the room in the whirl of a purple tutu.

“Did I ever thank you for staying with me that night?” Katniss asked her husband.

Peeta shook his head. “Did I ever say thank you for letting me into your life even after you heard me sing?”

“How could I not?” his wife said. “You held Rosie like she was your greatest treasure. You let me cry against you when I told you that I named her after my sister. You were there. You loved me even at my worst.”

“I loved you when I saw you walk into the ER.” Peeta rose from his seat, sitting next to his wife on the hospital bed. “Hair in a mussed braid, sweater damp from that evening rain, and the loveliest grey eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“You don’t need to suck up.” Katniss leaned forward to give him a kiss. “I married you four years ago. I’m having your son.”

“I just always promised to show you how much you are loved,” he told her tenderly. “I meant it from the night Rosie was born to this very night as you have our little boy.”

“Oh…” Katniss’ eyes watered at his words, her hands reaching to cup his face. “Peeta, you are loved.”

He smiled. “You are loved.”

“Dr. Mellark? Mrs. Mellark?” Rue, the head nurse who would was assisting with the birth walked in. “We’re just about all set up.”

Peeta pressed his forehead to Katniss’. “You ready?”

She grinned. “You have a song prepared?”

“Always.”

Katniss nodded, taking a deep breath, as they readied themselves for the next phase of their lives.

“Let’s do this.”

FIN.

Song: “I Hope That I Don’t Fall in Love with You”-Tom Waits

*Nancy Tillman (the author of On the Night You Were Born) uses the quote “You are Loved” in a few of her books including the one that is the title of this story.

#On the Night You Were Born #Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #Everlark AU #Everlark one-shot

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boatiechat-blog · 7 years

Text

Snape, Dumbledore, and when the end narrative is counter-moral

I’m reposting here, with minor edits, a (long, sorry) comment I made under a super rich discussion on the abuse Snape suffered. My main thesis is that Rowling uses narrative and symbolic cues to paint characters as positive or negative, especially in the first book, but then subverts these alignments with several plotlines. This is not resolved in a satisfying way in the end, with a reversal to black-and-white morality based on redemption, undermining the more subtle developments of the mid-series. *** I think all of those analyses [about Snape’s victimhood] are absolutely fascinating and pretty spot on, but there is one thing that gets glossed upon in all of those replies. This a work of fiction shaped by narrative processes that are meant to manipulate our emotions into feeling a certain way. Most of the disagreements I see in fandom, and the conflicted emotions people have within themselves regarding Snape, usually boil down to this. I’m taking most of my analysis from Margrethe Bruune Vaage’s book The antihero in American Television (she’s my PhD supervisor and a total badass, I love her). Most of the arguments can be used for literature too, but for the specific narratological points, I would refer to Dorrit Cohn’s Transparent Minds, Representing consciousness in fiction. I- How do we form moral judgements? Jonathan Haidt and Joshua Greene speak of a “dual process” of moral judgement. The first one is rational: one weighs the pros and cons, the various outcomes, the validity or impact of a certain course of action, and passes a judgement. The second is intuitive: it’s a quick-and-dirty process, through which we intuit a positive or negative value to an action based on subconscious, or at least not causal, connections. See it as a shortcut of sorts: if you hear someone raise their voice in anger at an old person, your first intuition would be distaste. You do not make the conscious reasoning “this person is vulnerable and disoriented, therefore one should use patience and not violence in order to interact with them”. You’re like “wow, that’s mean”. Rational judgements can, with time, transform themselves into intuitive judgements. For example, someone might weigh the pros and cons of eating meat, decide to become, vegetarian, and stick to it. Years down the line, the very thought of eating a steak could be repulsive for that person, without needing to rework through the rational judgement all over again every time. II- How does that apply to fiction? Fiction deactivates, or at least, tunes down, the rational part of our moral judgement values, encouraging us to use intuitive judgement, which can be relatively easily influenced by narrative methods. Basically, when you’re reading or watching a work of fiction, you put your reasoning mind on hold and you buy into the moral undertones of the work you’re reading. Which is why people actually root for Walter White, or Dexter, etc. Bruune Vaage calls it “fictional relief”: the fiction relieves you of the burden of making rational judgements because it doesn’t really matter, and so the things one might find reprehensible in real life can be justified in the fictional world (such as stealing, or killing). Depending on the work, killers and thieves can be the most moral people around (ex Game of Thrones). Sometimes, our rational judgement kicks in, and we find ourself torn by our feelings. This is what makes anti heroes so compelling. We KNOW that selling meths to kids is not a moral course of action, but we still appreciate seeing it. III- Which brings me to Harry Potter: The first few books try very hard to present Snape as a repugnant character. “Repugnant” is related to disgust, which is an intuitive form of judgement. Snape is dark, dirty (greasy hair), unpleasant and rude, and harassing the people he was supposed to be caring for. Dumbledore on the other hand, is presented as a positive, comforting figure. Sweet, excentric grandpa, who supports and comforts Harry and the trio. He gives them information, sets them on their tasks, and generally moves the narrative forward by empowering the (very young!) protagonists. This pattern is very effective, and, it’s a children’s book. We don’t expect subversion of these tropes at all. Repugnant = BAD, Comforting = GOOD. Even the sounds of their names evoke contrasting reactions.The performances in the film reinforce these impressions. As the narrative progresses, we learn more things about the backstory and past actions of Snape and Dumbledore. We learn them as the trio does, so it comes after the first impressions we had, and progressively. In HPAPS, people accuse Harry of being biased against Snape because he’s mean. This subversion is progressive and subtle. First it is revealed that Snape was not trying to steal the stone. Then, several books later, it is revealed that he is a member of the Order of the Phoenix. To complicate matters, we also learn that he HAD been a Death Eater, but had repented for .. dubious moral reasons (selfish, regarding the one person he loved). We also learn that Harry’s dad was arrogant and a bully, but that he did change, that his mother used to be a friend of Snape, but stopped when he got radicalized by an extreme racist cult. We learn that Dumbledore had used Harry while knowing he had to die. I’m trying here to present things in the most morally neutral way possible, but it is almost impossible. At the end of the series, both Dumbledore and Snape have sacrificed themselves for the Cause, and proved their alignment towards the Good. A lot of “do they end justify the means?” arguments have been made, but I won’t get into that. My point is: at the end, the two most prevalent adult figures in Harry’s life, polarized from the beginning, ended up being a lot more ambiguous and morally grey that what was suggested at the beginning. The characters are rich, and the tension between moral alignment, likeability, and perspective (we see things from Harry’s PoV, mostly) are absolutely fascinating. I love it! It produces a lot of rich discussion (like the ones above). But ... IV- Where, IMO, Rowling failed: A lot of these discussions happen because people have turned their rational moral judgement back on. At no point does the narrative condemn Dumbledore for the creepy, irresponsible things he’s done. Ultimately, the narrative redeems Snape, by having Harry name his child after him and Dumbledore. “the two bravest men I knew” is a very dubious line. The end of the last book returns to the morally obvious distinctions of the first few books, despite the fact that the narrative, the trio, AND the readers, had grown up. Our rational judgements tell us that Dumbledore and Snape were part of the Good Guys. That Dumbledore was friendly and supportive of the protagonists, while Snape was rude and emotionally violent. Dumbledore, despite his abusive behaviour, remains likeable all along (there’s a plot arc in which Harry learns the bad things Dumbledore has done, but still decides to see him as a positive figure -- after all, it’s LOYALTY that helped Harry in the Chamber of Secrets). Dumbledore’s abuse of Harry is never really discussed, let alone the very real abuse he conducted against Snape, or Lupin. None of what has been written above is touched upon AT ALL in the books or movie. All of this is (very valid) rational extrapolation from the facts we get in the books. Snape is never really presented as likeable, but he and Harry share a touching moment when he dies, and Harry seems to (IMO, unbelievably) forgive him years of abuse and degradation. Rowling seems to think that the resolution of a conflict implies the disappearance of its consequences. Snape redeemed himself by making the moral choice, so he’s forgiven. The trio defeated Voldemort, and so “all was well”. The narrative tries to make us feel something that most of us are reluctant to feel. The “fictional relief” is not enough to make us buy into the smoothed out morality of the epilogue. V- How I think it should have ended: I think fighting with the good guys does not make one not be an abuser (Snape), and being likeable while fighting for the good guys does not make you not be an abuser (Dumbledore). Both in their ways were shitty people that had a positive impact on the world, and a mixed (at best) impact on Harry. It would have been much richer and complex if, for example, the wizarding world had recognized the heroism of Dumbledore and Snape by giving them posthumous titles or honours. I can buy into the fact that Harry could still have positive feelings about Dumbledore because I totally believe he was groomed into loyalty from a young age, and that in itself would be an interesting aspect if it was brought forward by one of the other characters (my bet would be Hermione, she’s always had perspective, or Ron, as he has a very strong sense of familial support and morality). Similarly, imagine if Snape had been celebrated, and the trio (plus Neville, and most of the Hogwart students) had expressed doubt, or at least mixed feelings towards it. I’ve had feelings of antipathy for people who had done far less egregious things to me than Snape did to the students. Hostility and enmity do not vanish after having been present for years, with cause, just because you understand, rationally, that a person was actually on the right side of history. Imagine a scene in which the trio learn that Snape and Dumbledore are going to be celebrated with a new special Wizarding medals. Harry understands for Dumbledore, but Ron/Hermione point out all the dubious things he’s done. Then all agree that Snape shouldn’t be celebrated. Our own history is full of very morally dubious people who still get celebrated: (Churchill, Ghandi, Nelson ...), while others, much more deserving, get forgotten, like McGonagall (a woman), Hagrid (mixed-race), or Dobby (an elf). This could have been a really deep and interesting ending, leaving open all the moral ambiguities created by the later books and films, and putting the character’s perspective better in focus, while allowing our own interpretation of the events.

#fiction #Harry Potter #Snape #Dumbledore #meta #engagement #morality

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riddleblack246 · 7 years

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Could you maybe do a professor au for spirk?

((You’ve got it! I hope this is okay. Idea taken from this prompt list.))

This was beginning to get a bit… frustrating.

Not that Spock would openly admit to anything being frustrating, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that this event had been occurring repeatedly, on schedule, with no explanation as to who was causing it or why.

Spock continued to stare down at said source of frustration. The mug was unusually shaped, made to look similar Malaya IV, the planet dedicated almost exclusively to medical facilities. So, that had to be something of a hint. This person had been to said planet for some extended length of time, either for themselves or for someone else, and had been attached enough to said planet to warrant the purchase of a souvenir.

The mug was filled to the brim with coffee. A dash of milk, no sugar, as was the way it had been served to him for the past several weeks. It wasn’t the way he preferred it, no, but clearly whoever made him the beverage was aware of the Vulcan avoidance of excess sugar. So whoever had been carrying out this action wasn’t entirely clueless to the biological discrepancies of other species.

He had initially considered the perpetrator to be a student. He had started teaching early morning classes the previous semester and had seen a wide variety of students arrive to his lecture with thermos of coffee, tea, and various other beverages. It wasn’t unheard of to assume that perhaps one had wished to be generous and bring him a mug as well.

However, two matters soon struck down his theory. One - the mugs rotated over the course of the week. While Spock made a point to wash and rinse the mugs and carefully set it aside on his desk at the end of each day, he never saw anyone retrieve the mug or replace it. He supposed someone could come in at night to get it (he didn’t see a reason to lock the lecture hall), but the building itself was sealed at midnight, so there was no way for a student to get in.

Two - The coffee was always hot. Thermos could do a lot with recent technology, including keep beverages as steaming as they were when they were first made. However, such devices could be on the pricier side, especially for students, and it simply was improbable to believe that a student would use an incredibly expensive device for the purpose of providing coffee for their professor every morning, especially if they did not intend to take credit for this act in hopes of receiving extra credit of some kind (though it was not as if Spock even offered such things).

And so he was left to stare contemplatively into the steaming liquid until more students began to file in and take their seats. His gaze flicked up to scan the room before he resolutely took a sip. He supposed that it was not of consequence. The gesture was appreciated and if the person chose to make themselves known, he would express his gratitude. But until then, there was no reason to give it anymore thought.

The ‘mystery’ behind the morning coffee had slipped from Spock’s mind by the time he made his way towards his lecture hall the next day. He was earlier than he usually intended to arrive, but he had been able to get home sooner to meditate the previous day, and thus had set his schedule slightly ahead for the next day. He made his way down the hall, noting the peaceful quiet of an early morning arrival as he adjusted his bag on this shoulder. He was about to push the door to the hall open when he was stopped in his tracks at the sight of a figure in the classroom. His debate over who could be the coffee perpetrator returned to the forefront of his thoughts as he peered through the translucent glass.

A man hummed softly to himself as he moved over to Spock’s desk. In his hands, he held a large thermos, similar to the one Spock speculated the provider to have owned. In his other, he held a standard white mug with a minimalist design made to emulate the Star Fleet insignia. The man placed the mug on Spock’s desk and picked up the one from the previous day. He carefully placed it into his bag before opening his thermos. He poured the coffee into the new mug, mindful not to spill any drops on the papers left on his desk. Spock remained silent as he watched the nameless man return the thermos to his bag and start towards the door. When he finally looked up, he stopped abruptly, eyes locking with Spock’s as the door was pushed open. The pair stared at one another, silence growing between them.

With the lined glass no longer hindering his view, Spock was able to get a full analysis of the no-longer-mysterious barista. The man was shorter than him and likely a bit younger. He was a bit on the heavier side, but the weight was mostly muscle with what was likely a bit of excess. His brunette hair curled slightly at his forehead and intense hazel eyes stared into his own. He stood with his chest nearly puffed out in confidence, holding the air of a man that is used to leading and unashamed in being caught in actions that were somewhat… peculiar.

“Professor Spock.” The man greeted, tone managing to somehow be both warm and authoritative at the same time. Spock slowly raised an eyebrow.

“Greetings,” Spock replied evenly, “Admittedly, I am not familiar with your name.”

“Oh, sorry about that,” The man smiled, revealing two rows of sparkling white teeth, “I know I don’t get out much outside of my lectures. I’ve been told I’m something of a workaholic.” He raised his hand, separating his middle and ring finger (albeit clumsily) into the Vulcan salute, “Professor Kirk. But Jim is fine.”

Spock blinked, processing the information. Jim Kirk. He’d heard his name before. Mostly in passing between various students in his lectures and in reference from other professors. Nyota, one of his few friends within the faculty, had mentioned him a few times, about how much the students adore him and how he’s so invested in teaching in the command field that nearly every single one of his students was on a starship within five years of their graduation from the Academy.

Spock raised his own hand, mirroring the gesture. “I would ask what you’re doing here, but it’s rather obvious.” His gaze moved over to the still-steaming mug on his desk before returning to Kirk.

“I believe the more appropriate question would be ‘Why’?”

Kirk’s grin turned sheepish. He shrugged before speaking.

“Well, I just thought it would be the neighborly thing to do. After all, our rooms are right next to one another. And there’s no harm in making a good first impression with the head of the science department, right?”

“I suppose not,” Spock agreed, “However, you have made no attempt to speak to me directly, let alone reveal yourself as the one providing me with coffee.”

Spock watched as the man’s tanned cheeks slowly bloomed pink. He bit his lip, the confidence slowly starting to fade into shyness.

“Uh… yeah, you got me there,” He laughed weakly, “Okay… I’ll be straight with you here. I wanted to make a good first impression because a lot of the staff speaks highly of you. I’m also a big fan of your work regarding inter-species relationships and analysis of genetic compatibility.”

Spock kept his expression neutral, inclining his head ever so slightly to indicate that he may continue.

“So I thought I would bring by some coffee as a way to introduce myself, get to know you. But when I saw you in the hall, I… panicked.”

Spock raised an eyebrow once more. Kirk seemed incredibly confident and, in the command field, panic wasn’t exactly a feeling that should be acted upon.

“I left the coffee and headed out before you could see me. I decided to try again the next day… and the next… at that point, it had become almost a routine, so I just decided… not to stop?”

He ended his explanation like it was a question, as if to silently ask if that was an unusual routine to carry out. Spock folded his arms over his chest.

“And might I ask what it was about me that sent you into a ‘panic’, Professor?”

The pink in Kirk’s cheeks deepened into an intense red.

“Well, I…” Kirk swallowed, shifting his posture as he attempted to formulate a reply, “I must admit that… it was because I find you to be rather attractive.”

Silence, once again, engulfed the room. If Spock were to speak, he would have admitted that that was not the answer he had expected. Intimidation, yes. Perhaps even discomfort over his being Vulcan. But attraction?

“And I wasn’t sure as to how I could work up the courage to speak to you, especially when I not only wanted to get to know you and discuss your work, but also…” Kirk trailed off, leaving his intentions open ended.

“You wished to pursue something more intimate.”

Kirk blinked in surprise. “Uh… maybe not so… intensely, but yes.”

Spock nodded in understanding, moving past Kirk to place his bag at his desk and retrieve his mug of coffee. Closing his eyes, he took a sip. When he opened them once more, he found Kirk still standing in the doorway, unsure of whether he should stay or go.

“There is a dining establishment four point three eight blocks from this building,” He supplied evenly, “When you have completed your lecture this afternoon, you may join me in partaking in lunch. You may see how I actually take my coffee.”

Spock watched as Kirk’s mouth grew into a smile, nodding at his suggestion. “I think I’d like that. See you at three?”

“Indeed. Though I would appreciate it if you will knock this time instead of simply letting yourself in.”

#star trek #space husbands #spirk #professors au #college au #prompts #spirk fic #college au fic #anon

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whitesilverandmercury · 7 years

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So you remember that bit towards the beginning of the Odyssey where Telemachus decides to go look for his dad and heads off to Pylos to see Nestor, with Athena doing her cross-dressing act? And there's that whole "“let Telemachus, king Odysseus' son, sleep at the palace now, on a corded bed inside the echoing colonnade, with Prince Pisistratus close beside him there” intimate friends thing and then they go to Sparta? Something with that? Any fandom you like. Please and thank-you.

fic prompts ☆ fuck me up here

disclaimers: don’town, don’t ownrating: ehhh T? nothing explicit, sort of fluffypairing: kh, akurokua/n: for @paraklausithyro – ancient Greek AU // Let Telemachus,king Odysseus’ son, sleep at the palace now, on a corded bed inside the echoingcolonnade, with Prince Pisistratus close beside him there. // so liketimeline is definitely not 100% accurate and there are plenty creativeliberties but you get the point lmao

peaches and cream.

Roxas does not remember his father, or the start of the war,whenever it was the war actually started. What he remembers is a house that toosoon did not feel empty anymore, cool floors and shuttered windows threadingthe light, the humming of the waves on the crags at night like the humming ofhis mother as she strokes his hair to put him to sleep, curled up in her bedwith his back against her warm, shifting bosom. Sweet smell of sun on earth.Purple shadow of Mt. Neion. What he does remember is visitors who were notafter his mother’s hand in remarriage — visitors, now and again, to the rockycountry-man island, and one of these visitors a younger son of a lord alsostolen away by the fighting at Troy.

It was before news of the war’s end had reached them, andRoxas cannot remember why they came,up, all the way up from Messenia, but he remembers the son — the strongshoulders for a boy, maybe five years older than himself. Tall, too, with thesun-kissed skin of the Messenian coast but the clear, sharp cat eyes and deepred hair of Thrace. Roxas will not know the strangeness of this until he isolder. What he remembers is watching wide-eyed and wondering from around hismother’s leg, fingers curled in the fine fall of her clothes, as the boy andhis brothers rough housed in the outer courtyard, their laughter and squeakingshouts bouncing off marble and dust. What he remembers is the flash of clear,cool green eyes, fast and piercing as a strike to the earth from gloriouslightning-bringing Zeus. Hovering on him. Noticing him after he’d snuck awayfrom his mother’s knee, to peek out from the faded colonnade along the yard.Shooting away again, to an older brother who wrestles him to the ground in aburst of limbs and strangled half-laughter.

ii.

Axel remembers being excited to go north again, to therugged backwater island. There is a widow there, and two of his brothers are atcontest of who can win her hand. The estate is good; never mind the location.As Axel remembers, the woman is beautiful, blonde and blue-eyed, and she onlyhas one son, an easy opponent for his brothers considering he is still a child.

Yes, she has a son, and he is also blond and blue-eyed, witha heart-shaped face and uncertain mouth, a dance of freckles across his cheeksfrom the sun, kisses from Helios, eyes like a stormy sky. Axel remembers himfrom the first trip, lonely prince of this isolated island; he remembers himfrom this trip, and the way the shadows of the colonnade fall over him inribbons as he made his way with a shoddy play bow and hip-quiver of arrows, agraduation from childhood slingshot, Axel supposed. Axel hid behind one of themarble columns and just as the country prince was passing, he jumped out with shouldersdrawn and hands in claws, like a mountain beast ready to pounce.

“Ah!” he cries, aiming not to scare, only to startle theboy, playful like a kitten.

The boy doesn’t rear back but he does stop short, eyeswidening just a bit, flutter of lashes as he blinks as if to clear his visionof a double take. “What?” he mumbles.

Axel wilts, but laughs nonetheless. “The Nemean lion,” he says.He reaches out and tousles the boy’s mess of dirty blond hair as if they arefriends.

“Right.” The boy takes the touch a moment, before leaningaway like a cat highly selective of love. Still, he looks up at Axel with thosebig, wondering eyes like he is used to being friends with people who don’t askif he wishes to be friends. “Because of Herakles. Your father knew him.”

“Yes,” Axel says. “And my grandfather brought hisvengeance.”

The boy — Roxas, Axel remembers finally remembering the name— stares at him a moment, before he stirs with a little breath and anotherflicker of the eyes and he says shyly, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Axel bristles, heat flooding his face like falling asleepoutside in the warm noontime. He hadn’t realized he’d been so obvious. “Becauseyou’re beautiful,” he says after a moment, not quite sure how else to explainit. “And I want to protect it. I think you should be mine.”

Roxas’ brow dimples; his nose wrinkles like he’s tastedsomething sour. “Your what?”

“My boy,” Axel replies resolutely, inclining his chin.Roxas’ chin lifts, too, as he laughs and laughs, and the sound is as pleasingas the dance of rain on the soft earth.

“You’re not old enough to say that to me yet!” he giggles,and Axel softens in a warm grin, a smile with teeth, because the light onRoxas’ face makes his heart swell.

iii.

Roxas remembers a few years later the way the red-haired boystartled him on the upper balcony, where he’d thought himself skillfully hiddento spy on the men at court trying so very hard to win over his mother’s favor.

“You look heartbroken,” the red-haired boy said, cat-eyedprince of Pylos, son of the Gerenian horseman, leaning against the wall withone hip cocked and ankles crossed at a pedestal foot. Lovely but slightly dustychiton, hand embroidery, scarlet wool that paled in comparison to hisdark-rooted hair — which he’d been combing through with his fingers, as ifirritated by its stubborn cowlicks. He is less a boy now than that intermediarynot-man, his shoulders just slightly broader, no longer spindly but lean,marble-smooth muscles and curves.

Roxas remembers how flustered he’d been, blushing andstuttering. Not to be caught peeking, but because he’d been very excited to seethe boy again. He remembers wanting to mumble something along the lines of,“And who are you to come into my father’s house remarking on the suitors whothink he’s dead?” But he doesn’t, because he cannot speak; his tongue failshim, and his eyes hang on the older boy’s lips, mesmerized by their shape andtheir softness. The way his knuckles have hardened. The cut of his thighmuscles into his knee. And he remembers the boy saying he wanted to be his suitor, and Roxas thinks, if the boywants to kiss him, he’d let him, but there’s still not enough age between themfor it to count as something other than a childhood curiosity —

The boy’s green eyes have deepened and sharpened, eyes likea lion, he the grandson of the man who brought the vengeance of the Lion-Slayerhimself. And as the silence spins on between them, those green cat eyes prompt,Go on. Say something. But Roxasdoesn’t, so the boy does.

“Peaches and cream,” he murmurs.

Roxas’ brow knots. “What?”

“Peaches and cream.” The boy shrugs. “This is what thepirates said to twice-born Dionysus, his skin is like peaches and cream,unburnt by the sun and pale from hunting.”

Roxas is tense, on edge, a breath snared on his lower lip. Peaches and cream. Is this what he makesthe boy think of? Shy, flattered fire burns in his cheeks; he is embarrassed byhow much stock he places in the boy’s attention, cowed by how much it means tohim to be noticed. The boy seems just as embarrassed by his own interest,confused as to why it is still there. Words hang between them unspoken likemorning dew on a hyacinth —

“And the pirates tried to force themselves on him, did theynot?” Roxas finally mumbles.

The boy nods slowly. “They did.”

“But you wouldn’t,” Roxas says flatly, and it is both astatement and a question. The boy’s eyes burn into him, sear straight to hisbones. Roxas clears his throat. “Are you waiting for me?” he murmurs after amoment. He asks two questions. He asks: Areyou wanting to waste time together today? He asks: Do you still think I’m beautiful?

The boy says nothing. They stare at each other, a frictionbetween them tightening, tightening like a string on a lyre, a note ready to beplucked.

Roxas remembers a man calling from below then: “Axel!” Tutor,perhaps. Attendant. Weary of babysitting. The red-haired boy heaved a grandsigh and disappeared around the corner, following his name.

Axel, Roxasmouthed, letting the feel of the name settle on his tongue so he can swallow it.

iv.

Axel — his name is Axel, a prince of Pylos, grandson of aman who brought the vengeance of the Lion-Slayer, son of a great man who foughtat Troy, and six years later he is still bronzed by the sun in the softest,heat-sweet of ways, hair braided loosely over his shoulder and a chillinglyperceptive side-glancing air about him that must have gone hard against thegrain in his boyhood training at Sparta. He is quiet as on the shore blackbulls are sacrificed to Poseidon, as at a cool and colorful court his fatherpasses the honeyed wine for libations to the small party of unexpected guests.The smoke of the sacrifice is hearty; the two-handled cup glints gold inlamplight like the fires outside; Roxas, young only son of Ithaca’s lord, thewar general whose name is already legendary, sits with all the expected gracethough there is something about it that is all his own. All the years that havepassed since Axel last saw him have distilled into a crystal coldness that isnot emotionless, merely a quiet edge like ice — beautiful, and fragile, and atonce dangerous. Lithe and languid as a nymph is he, slim but not spindly, withivory skin and hair gold in the low light, honey in the sun, his eyes still astormy blue. He seemed spectacular and beautiful like a bastard of Zeus whenAxel first met him years ago. He seems now to be just as special, and Axelcannot bring himself to stop looking at him. It quickens his blood. Causes hisheart to stutter. He does not know why. He thinks, I was a child then. He thinks, Heis so beautiful. He thinks, I cannotbelieve I still want him and he knows it is a foolish fantasy, but —

Grey-haired and grey-eyed, Axel’s father, King of Pylos,Argonaut, urges graciously, “Please, let the prince sleep at the palacetonight, share the room with my son as is only fitting for such a guest, son ofIthaca’s king.”

Axel looks up with a flicker of the eyes, up and away fromthe knife with which he fiddles in his lap, a tiny little thing, precious tohim, pulled from the leather strap at his hip. He waits for his father’s eyes;his father doesn’t meet them. What does he mean, in offering as much? That heexpects something of Axel — that he has caught the way Axel has been sneakinglooks at Roxas this entire time, that his father wants to guide them to eachother like this is some embarrassing version of an arranged marriage, reputationsat stake for Axel’s unmarried negligence —

Axel’s gaze slides over to the little grouping of guests.Finally, Roxas is looking at him, big blue eyes hovering in that keen andwondering way of his.

The room is a cramped but lovely corner within a greatercolonnade, and feels pretentious for its obvious mere practicality — Ioniccolumns and paint blue as the summer sky, marble floors faded but soft fromyears of whispering footsteps. The walls, colored by scenes of godly greatness;the scent of frankincense and bay laurel lingers, lamp oil, something sharp andmetallic. It is a balmy night but there is a lovely breeze, and the shuttereddoors are wide open for it, drapes hanging heavy but parted for moonlight topool on the floors.

They don’t really talk. They are men now. The corded bedshifts as they retire, and they fall asleep with backs turned.

Roxas dreams of his mother and when he stirs a bit in thequietest hours of the night, they are facing each other, and his fingers havecurled on the naked skin of Axel’s chest. He blushes; he is afraid to move fora moment, afraid to breathe, lest he wake the lion and be caught nestled upinto him. But even if he weren’t afraid, he wouldn’t move, because he is lostin the lines and the shapes of Axel’s face, gawking up at him through theshadows of sleepy eyes. The moonlight falls across Axel’s face; his hairtickles Roxas’ nose. His chest rises and falls slowly, steadily, below curledfingers. You’re beautiful. I want to protect you. Are you waiting for me? And Roxasshifts; their legs are somehow tangled, too. He cranes, slowly, and he cantaste his heart in his throat as his breath dusts Axel’s mouth. He hesitates.The smell of Axel’s hair and skin fills his head. He parts his lips, hoping toat least brush against the other pair, taste wine, perhaps, taste his skin,feel the petal softness —

Axel tips his chin just so, catching Roxas’ mouth in his,and it is deliberate, and it is conscious, and Axel’s eyes flicker open halfwayfor one of those piercing, cat-eyed glances as the short, soft kiss fades awayagain into the simple dusting of skin. He was awake, Roxas realizes. He chokeson a breath. He wants to say, It was adream. He wants to say, Didn’t meanto. What he does say is, “Did you wait for me?”

Axel looks startled for a moment, guilty, flustered — andthen he curls in a smile, softened at the edges by a warmth for which Roxasfeels responsible, for which he is embarrassed in a lovely way, for which hesmiles stupidly himself and wishes he could hide the joy he takes in it.

The happy smile on Roxas’ face crumbles into happy,breathless laughter as Axel kisses up his face to his ear and his fingers crawldown Roxas’ sides to graze the small of his back, graze his hips, follow his thigh,body arched to the touch. There is something easy about it — Eros knows norules but to join men like them with the lovely ease of brotherhood. The happybreathless laughter stutters into a string of happy breathless sighs, and Axelwhispers, “Peaches and cream.”

end.

#kh fic #akuroku #akuroku au #classical au #fic prompt #uuugh #this was so pretty to think about and i hope it translated well #thank youuuu for the lovely prompt

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oldnintendonerd · 6 years

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Pickup Post #9 - No more sun, no more fun

Well, as you may have guessed, living in the mid-west, it is almost winter, rapidly approaching the official first day on December 21st. The yard sales petered out completely about 2 months ago in mid October, maybe a little earlier. If you recall I mentioned they were already slowing down at the end of August on my last post. All I have left now are thrift stores and work finds to go on. I have decided to stop checking LetGo and OfferUp as a safety measure. Some stories about folks basically being mugged or even shot at those transactions spooked my wife and I and we decided that I not use personal meet up options. This will cut down on the finds yes, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.

We had a really long dry spell these last few months too. While the first game was found back in August, and the second on the first day of September, everything else shown here were all found after November 1st. The Yard Sale scene dried up only a few weeks after the first was found, and even then was already becoming sparse pickings. Recon was showing next to nothing for video games, and what sales I would hit, wouldn’t have any out, already sold what they did have listed before the sale even scheduled to start (damn swap meet and flea market parasites! Have you no couth!?), or didn’t have any to bring out if I asked. Very discouraging. Must be the area. I see so many people with Youtube channels that can still find tons of stuff in their area, they can still put together videos around monthly. Not here. So this tells you why no posts until now, this is the first time Ive had a good amount of finds to even show.

It’s not to say I have nothing to report, the thrift stores have not been too bad at least for disc based games. This is a pretty good post in the game department, though we are going on about 3 months of stuff here, rather than just one, so that helps I guess. Unfortunately no hardware finds to report, these are all games. But quite a few, so settle in anyway, I have pictures of everything, it’s a long way to the bottom.

I’ll try to put everything in the order I found it, with the date I found it if I have it.

We are going all the way back to the end of August for the first one.

Resident Evil 4 - Wii Edition found 8.21.17 at Goodwill.

Pretty good shape. Disc has some light scratches, but plays the game fine. Some discoloration on the case, it is a little more brown than I’d like so that could stand an upgrade. Manual is pretty crispy, I like to see that.

This one supports a classic controller, which I will probably use if I ever get around to playing it. Alternatively, I may emulate it on Dolphin, both to get a better resolution, and just the ease of using a PS2 controller. Couldn’t pass it up complete in box. $3.21.

Moving on.

Next one is the first of only two Sony console games in the list, the rest are for Nintendo consoles. A little bit of a flip from the beginning of the blog where it seemed like the Sony PS2 finds would go on forever.

Need For Speed Underground - Found 09.01.17 at Goodwill

Not a HUGE NFS fan, but as I stated in a previous post, I did like the Hot Pursuit games back in the day on the PSX. So I’m giving these a chance.

Case and manual are in great shape as you can see. Disc is above average, and it plays fine. It won’t install using HD Loader though, which is weird, but I’m not that worried about it. If anything I may emulate this one as well, I can always rip an image of it with my Mac. From there I can play it that way or manually put it on the PS2 HDD. It was an impulse buy in September, I was desperate after more than a two week dry spell. Little did I know I was in for almost exactly a two month dry spell after that. Regret buying it now? Maybe a little, but we’ll see later when we get to it, maybe it will be a fun play. On to the next.

My son is a Mickey fanatic right now. He has a giant plushy that is almost as tall as he is that he carries everywhere. He watches Mickey Mouse Club House, and Mickey and the Roadster Racers, pretty much daily. So when I saw this one I had to pick it up. If for nothing else to give him a kick out of being able to control his favorite character. Even if he is still too young to even figure out how to get out of the first chamber.

Epic Mickey - Found 11.01.17 at Goodwill.

About as good of shape as Resident Evil 4, no damage to the case, artwork is in good condition, manual is pretty crisp, and the disc has about the same light scratches on it. So it plays fine. Kid loved it by the way.

One thing that made me nervous even before buying it though was this warning on the back of the case:

I do have a modded Wii, I use USB Loader GX with the Home Brew channel to load my games from a 64 GB USB thumb stick. All the games I have loaded are in my collection, I don’t download or pirate games. Everything is legit, and even the images are of MY OWN games. It is simply to make it more convenient, and so I don’t have to handle my games just to play them. So to tell me I can’t play a game on MY OWN Wii simply because it has an innocent mod seemed ridiculous to me.

Until I thought about it a little more.

It is less ridiculous than I initially thought simply because of the fact that I do understand that the mod would allow you to download games and play them, so I can’t be too upset at this I suppose. Nintendo couldn’t do much about the modding community, but they could try and make it more difficult (or so they thought) to play real games on these consoles. Just because I have an ethical line drawn doesn’t mean everyone else does. I’m sure most people would be just as happy and guilt free to download images of any game they want and load a huge drive right up with hundreds of gigs of games. Though making someone not be able to play a real game on a modded console would only encourage someone to download that game instead of buy it, so I feel this was ill advised by Nintendo. In any case, personally, I want to see the same games on the screen that I have on the shelf. Period. The benefits are two fold, convenience, I can switch games quicker, and because it is quicker, I’m not handling them and taking them in and out of the case, possibly causing them to receive more scratches and fingerprints. All good reason in my book.

Anyway, enough of that. Back to Epic Mickey. Sure enough, when I put it in to test it prompted for an update to the system menu, likely looking to reset it back to factory. Which I would not do. I’m not reverting my Wii just for one game. It took a while to get it just right, where all artwork, games, and titles showed up the way I wanted, and played properly. Instead, I opened USB Loader GX and decided to install the game anyway, see if maybe once it was an image, it would bypass this nonsense.

It did. The game plays fine when launched as an image from USB Loader GX. So this is good news. It will make me less leery of other games that have the same or similar warning. Fantastic.

Next up, Wii Play - Found 11.28.2017 at Goodwill

This one was an impulse buy. I saw it in the bin, it’s only worth a few cents more than I paid for it, which was $3.21. According to Pricecharting it comes in at about $3.79 CIB. I am not planning on selling it, and I will buy games worth a lot less, if I am planning on keeping it for myself, plus, I have heard that it can be fun, and it was in absolute perfect condition.

It looked like someone took it out of the wrapper, played it once, and then stuck it on a shelf until they donated it. So I had to snag it, I’m a sucker for games in immaculate condition. This one is perfect. Flawless disc.

Speaking of immaculate condition.

Max Shininess.

Max crispiness.

Max Payne - Found 11.30.2017 at Goodwill

This one also looked like someone took the cellophane off, played it once, then stuck it on a shelf and it sat there until it wound up at Goodwill. I’ve not tried the Max Payne series, and I figured for $3.21, might as well.

It always impresses me when I can pick up a game that is well over a decade old, and it looks like the day it was unwrapped. Just that perfect mirror shine that you can usually only get on a brand new game.

What story does this or any new condition game tell? Did it literally sit on a shelf and not move for 10 or more years before it was swept into a box and brought to Goodwill? Or was the owner just very careful with his or her games, taking really good care of them every time they were played, perhaps loading it on a HDD to play without touching the game further just as I did? Somehow I picture the former more than the latter. But you never know. Here it now sits.

This next one isn’t a great game, or even in great condition, but I was absolutely FLOORED to find any GameCube game at a Goodwill, some others might see it all the time, but I never see that. Gamecube at my Goodwills is like seeing a Unicorn. Often even if you do it is a terrible sports title. This wasn’t a terrible sports title. Maybe a terrible title, that remains to be seen, but it wasn’t sports!

Pac Man Vs. / Pac Man Adventure 2 - Found 11.30.2017 at Goodwill

Unfortunately it is in very rough shape, and is missing a disc.

DOH!

I almost put it back on the shelf, really. Especially when the one player game was the one missing. I can’t even play the game that remained unless I have two people. But I thought, well, they are usually pretty flexible here, maybe I can get it for a buck or two less if I ask.

I asked.

She offered to reduce it down to the DVD price, instead of the video game price. So $1 off. Not terrible, so about $2.13 or so for that one. I decided to snag it anyway. I probably could have argued down to $1, or maybe even free, the manager there is pretty nice. But she was unavailable at the time and it wasn’t worth that much hassle. I got a discount. Can’t complain. Maybe the other disc will turn up at some point in my future hunting.

I did also get an empty Wii Play case for free. This is something any collector should try to do. They typically throw away the game cases that have no games in them, I assume this is true at most Goodwill stores. If one makes it out onto the shelf, or perhaps gets relieved of its disc while on the floor by another, much less scrupulous patron, I bring them to the counter with my purchase. They always let me take them for spares at no charge. Wii Play is certainly not the most valuable game or case to have, especially with having picked up an immaculate copy already, I don’t even need a case upgrade. But any spare case in general never hurts when you are in this business. Beat up cases come along all the time. See the Pacman case above, wish I had a spare one of those. Though double disc cases are a little harder to come by for GameCube though. Only a handful of double disc games on that platform, I think 23 or so the last time I looked. A lot of the Resident Evil games were multidisc, a couple TMNT titles I believe, and I recall a 007 game, and I think a Lord of the Rings game in there. The bonus disc copy of Mario Kart DD had one too. So unless I come across an EMPTY case for one of those 23 or so games, I doubt I get an update for this case. One possibility is I find an empty case for JUST Pac Man Vs. *shrug*

In any case... (ha! pun intended), last from that set, a game I have not played on this platform, and one I have not played in a VERY long time in general.

A remake.

One that does actually look to have been done quite well. At least from what small amount I’ve seen of it so far.

007 Goldeneye on the Wii - Found on 11.30.2017 at Goodwill

I am not sure how I feel about this one. I have always been a very big proprietor of no first person shooters on consoles. Ever. Mouse and keyboard is natural, controllers are clunky, slow, and just generally terrible for FPS games. Because of this I was never a big fan of this game on the N64. But I did play it, I own it, and it wasn’t that bad as a single player game. When it came out, I was big into Doom, Quake and Quake II, especially Quake II death match. Which is insanely fast paced and action packed. For Goldeneye, my friends are like OMG it’s amazing, you have to try this, 4 player death match!

So we play, and I’m having the hardest time aiming, getting shot in the back taking MANY SECONDS to even turn around and shoot back where with the mouse its a twitch of the hand and I’m turned around and firing back at the person. Plus it’s only 4 people, I’m used to 12+ person bloodbaths. I just couldn’t get into it. So the death match / multi player, while what most people would say was the games best feature, fell flat on its face for me.

I had a little more fun with the single player game, the controls you can get used to, and the AI is a little more forgiving to you know, make it possible.

This game has all redone graphics, voice acting, the whole nine yards. Should be an interesting trip down memory lane.

It’s in good shape, crispy manual, case in good shape. Barely a scratch on the disc, can even see the online code that was used to unlock “Classic Conflict Mode”. Not 100% sure what that is, I would have to google it to remember.

Next up, the final two finds from just a few days ago.

Worms: A Space Oddity - Found 12.04.17 at Goodwill

I used to play Worms World Party on the Dreamcast back in the day. Always fun. Especially with friends. This one was not valued very high, even CIB, but I intended to keep this one for myself.

I think Pricecharting has it at about $4.99. So still a deal based on that, I’m sure it’ll be worth a play, and my son likes Angry Birds so he may dig this as he gets older.

Finally, last one for this post, on the same trip as the Worms find, I found this little gem.

Dragonball: Revenge of King Piccolo

Not a Dragonball fan, but when I saw it I knew it had to be at least double digit value. Those anime type games usually have good prices. Sure enough I peeked on pricecharting and it is going for $14.99. Yup, no interest in playing that one but it will be going home with me and straight up on eBay. $15 value is about the minimum I would need to buy something from a Goodwill to sell on eBay. After buying the game for $3, Paypal fees, eBay fees and shipping, even on a DVD case video game you are looking at netting perhaps $7. I’m ok with that, but anything less than that and forget it.

Good condition case, crispy manual, good disc. It should get me a good $6 - $8 in pocket after all fees and shipping. Cover the cost of at least 2, if not 3 more games from the Goodwill down the road.

So that is it for finds on this post. Here’s the recap Pic that I will probably post on Instagram as well. @oldnintendonerd.

The official business. We had eight games from Goodwill at the normal $2.99 plus tax making it $3.21 total. It was Resident Evil 4, Need for Speed Underground, 007 Goldeneye, Epic Mickey, Wii Play, Worms: A Space Oddity, Dragonball: Revenge of King Piccolo, and Max Payne at that price.

Total $25.68

Pac Man was a reduced price totaling $1.99 plus tax at $2.13. Grand total for this set of finds is $27.81.

$83.90 - $27.81 = $56.09 game hunting money remaining.

As for future funds, I still have a loose copy of Mario Kart Wii to put on eBay, as well as the Dragonball game from this post, so we have a chance to recoup at least $10 - $15 of that back. I was just asked about my PS2 bundle which caused me to retest it. unfortunately it is not reading the more beat up discs very well. This is the one I fixed. Still boots right up to games that are closer to like new condition. But it really struggles on the beat up ones. The PS2 I have at home as “My PS2″ boots up these beat up ones just fine. So the one I have for sale appears to be getting tired. I’ll see if I can adjust it some more and get more of the discs to read, if not, I may deeply discount it for her just to get rid of it. Buyer would know full well she’d have to get discs in good shape for them to play is all.

Hopefully the thrift stores keep providing some bounty as the winter months settle in. Though I’m thinking a lot of cleaning and donating doesn’t really get done this time of year, but I’m still hopeful.

I probably won’t post again until 2018 sometime. Hopefully at least once before Yard Sale season really kicks off, but I can’t promise anything. Happy hunting and happy holidays!

2017.12.08

#gamehunting #wii #nintendo #ps2 #sony #playstation #playstation2 #gamecube #pacman #maxpayne #worms #emulation #emulators #dragonball #needforspeed #007goldeneye #jamesbond

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fancycollectionfury-blog1 · 6 years

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