#is that ANDY knows shes wrong and nile tells her that and then nile and they guys leave because they know she’s wrong too! sooo good | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nicolos · 7 months

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stew

The sad part of it is really that it takes Nile two months to realise she’s never seen Andy cook.

“Wait,” she says, “what do you mean she’s not allowed to cook?”

Andy just shrugs, perfectly unhelpful as she loves to be. The Andy sitting across the kitchen table from Nile is a far cry from the woman who shot her in Afghanistan, and not just because she’s now mortal and prone to problems like hangovers that last and back pain. More importantly: she looks less tired, somehow, hasn’t made fun of Nile about her Cross again, and gets a sick sort of satisfaction from watching Nile flounder over the important things, like which famous historical figures her new friends-slash-family-slash-anti-dying-club had slept with or the weird set of unspoken rules and laws and tripwires they all have built in that everyone else can see and Nile can’t. Yet.

“It means Andromache has been banned from our kitchens,” Nicky says coolly. Joe raises his brows, probably at the full name, but he’s grinning.

Nile ignores him, because he’s an instigator, and says, “Why not? Andy, what’d you do?”

“Who said I did anything?”

Nile narrows her eyes at her. That tone of voice elicits many things: trust is not one of them. Joe outright snickers.

Nicky says, voice low, “You know what you did.”

Joe mouths, “She does,” and then says out loud, “It’s not so bad, Nile. Nicky’s banned from football. And I’m not allowed to do any plumbing.” He says this like it’s a bad thing.

Nile suspects that they’ve also put an unspoken ban up against her audiobooks. Every time she puts one on doing her laundry, somebody comes up to speak with her, until she’s forgotten all about it. She also keeps losing the old iPod she found with the books on it, and whenever she finds it, it needs to be charged.

It’s ridiculous is what it is. She says so. “Andy is four thousand years old.” Andy raises her brows but doesn't comment one way or the other. Joe makes a so-so face, which really just means Nile’s wrong. She soldiers on. “I don’t care how bad she is, she should be able to cook!”

Andy shrugs around her bowl. “I can cook.”

“We’re all adults. We should have a roster. It’s not fair that it’s just Joe and Nicky.” Of them, Nile herself is probably the weakest: she can make a few comfort foods, but she’s never mastered the art. She’d like to, though. Part of it is wanting to hold onto the food she remembers before she can’t get it anymore and she’s forgotten, and part of it is that it’s just practical. But left to her own devices, she just eats whatever’s there. A roster will help.

And it wouldn’t feel right to leave Andy off it. Nile tells herself this is about fairness and house chores and not about the strange panic that takes over her whenever she imagines never eating her mom’s good again and then remembers that (a) Andy looks like she's maybe five years younger than her mom, and (b) she, too, is mortal. Which is dumb. It’s not like she thinks of Andy as anything like her mother. If anything she’s the bad influence friend everyone’s mom warns them about, but who everyone wants to—

Anyway.

“I don’t mind,” Andy says. Nile turns to Nicky.

Nicky says, “If you wish,” and then looks at Joe like he’s expecting Joe to speak up on his behalf.

Joe grins. “I have no objections.”

Andy’s turn on the roster comes up two days later. She spends the morning out of the house and comes back with two bags full of groceries. When Nile goes to help her with it, bewildered, it turns out one of the bags is half filled with low shelf life candy, and that Andy doesn’t need help, though she looks amused that Nile would offer.

Then she gets to it. She’s not what Nile was expecting, which was someone a little unsure of herself in the kitchen. She chops fluidly and fast, as good with a knife on meat and veg as she would be with it as a weapon, and she moves like she knows what she's doing.

But what she’s doing is—strange. At first glance, the dish is beef, with thick chunks of meat cooking in enough oil to thrill her grandma. But then she throws chunks of apple in alongside the potato. As it cooks, she starts rolling out some dough, with more eggs than make sense. Pie, Nile thinks, even if it's not a pie she knows of, but she rolls it out by hand into sheets of pasta, all while stirring the beef concoction. A bar of the dark chocolate she's munching on goes into the pot, followed by a concerning quantity of nuts. When she grabs an orange, Nile thinks it's for a snack, but she peels the whole rind into a neat spiral and tosses the rind into the pot before offering Nile a slice. When the pasta is cut, she just—starts flipping the sheets into the pot.

Nicky looks into the kitchen as he passes by and starts muttering to himself in Italian. When he opens his mouth, Andy only says, “If you’d rather do it yourself,” and Nicky walks away.

Oh, Nile thinks. “You won’t get out of the roster just by making bad food, you know,” she says, though she suspects she probably will. If it's terrible, she figures she’ll get takeout. She already saw Joe surreptitiously hide a bag of something in the back of the fridge. She hopes he got enough for her.

Andy only winks at her. Nile sits down.

In go raisins, cashew nuts, sticks of cinnamon, the stalk of some plant she doesn't even recognise, more garlic than even Nicky uses, and a whole tablespoon of turmeric. Then come the chillies: long, with the heads sliced off, thrown in whole. When the room starts smelling like heat, she cools it with cups of milk. More vegetables follow: large chunks of carrot and beet, strips of cabbage and slices of—ugh—eggplant go in along with a store-bought sauce she can't read the label of, spoons of cream, a quarter of a bottle of alcohol she's pretty sure isn't meant to be used to cook with, and—somehow—even more chocolate, and some of her favourite morning cereal.

This is the point at which Nile decides to stop watching. It feels a little like tearing herself away from a car crash, but she makes herself go look for her iPod. She finds it between two cushions of the sofa twenty minutes later, at 3%.

Andy calls Nile in to help carry the food out when she's done, half an hour later. Nile’s a little bit afraid of the monster she's created as she looks into the pot. It looks less than appetising, a deep brown that looks thick and has things floating in it and cheese melting on top. On the sides of the pot, she can see bright red oil floating in place.

When she carries it out, her iPod is already gone from where it was charging by the kitchen table. Nile glares at Joe and Nicky, who look back innocently (Joe) and distractedly upset (Nicky). It has to be Joe, she figures.

Andy serves them the frankenstew in deep bowls with toasted slices of Nicky’s last sourdough next to it. With no ceremony at all, she grins and says, “Dig in.”

Then, without waiting for the rest of them, she starts eating.

A little relieved that Andy isn’t going to leave them to eat it alone, Nile takes a small, tentative bite.

The dish is—not bad. She takes another bite, and then another.

The stew is delicious. Nile can feel her arteries clogging with every bite, immortality or no immortality, but she thinks she doesn't even care. It's hot enough to leave her tongue prickling after just a couple of bites, but she wants to keep eating it. It's sweet and salty and sour; the meat falls apart in her mouth but the nuts crunch. The pasta is not really pasta at all, thicker and softer and melting in her mouth like soft bread. The broth is creamy and thick, and none of the vegetables are too mushy or draw too much attention to themselves. It's the best thing she's ever eaten, she thinks. She never wants to eat anything else again.

When she looks up, she must look a little guilty, because Joe pats her arm comfortingly. “I know,” he says.

Andy hums around a mouthful and says, slowly, “It’s not as good as I remember it.”

Nicky looks despairing. He’s staring into the bowl like it insulted his mother. Maybe it has. “That’s what you said last time,” he says.

Nile considers things like nostalgia and pride and cholesterol and having more of the pot for herself, and slides Andy’s half-full bowl towards herself. “You’re off the roster, Andy. And you’re banned from cooking again,” she says authoritatively.

“I thought making bad food wouldn’t get me off the roster?”

Nile nods. This is worse.

Joe grins, ducks into the kitchen, and comes back with the box he had hidden in the fridge, which now that Nile looks closely says Andy Dinner. Andy laughs at her as she eats it.

Nile decides to stop looking for her iPod.

#the old guard #tog fanfiction #mine.#minefic #nile freeman #andromache #i like this one. idk if the characters feel Quite right. but this particular evening i dont care if they dont

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lovelikedestiny · 2 years

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There is a suppressed gasp that rouses Nile out of a troubled sleep filled with salt water burning in her nose, soundless screams that rip open her throat and a terrible weight in her lungs as she drowns again, againagainagain.

Heart pounding like a little bird against his bony cage she remains in her position, not daring to move, listening for another sound, an indication for what exactly has woken her. Or more specifically who.

For thirty seconds nothing can be heard except for the breathing of her new team members and the silence starts to crackle in Nile’s ears. Maybe she’s too paranoid, considering the last few weeks and their events it is no wonder. Just as she’s slowly dozing off again another gasp sounds, more clear and kind of jerky as if the person who has made the noise tried to suppress it.

Instantly, Nile raises her head, searching for the source of the nightly disturbance, and her gaze wanders to Joe and Nicky’s bed. Both men have gone to sleep as they always do: Joe plastered at Nicky’s back, one arm tightly around his soulmate, Nicky facing the door of the room.

But something is different now.

The centuries-old couple merges to one single body under the blanket but the peaceful image is disrupted by a violent twitch, followed by another strained breath. And then Nicky throws the blanket away, staggering out of bed, not as silent and smooth as usual.

Heaving breath after breath into his lungs he crouches on the floor, face turned away from Nile, who is too startled to do anything but stare at him. If she was sleepy a few moments ago, she is wide awake now at the latest.

Before she can open her mouth to quietly address him, because he obviously is not fine, he stumbles to his feet, leaning heavily on the door frame when he leaves their common bedroom. Without a second thought Nile swings her feet out of bed on the verge of running after him - the audible retching, abnormally loud in the dark of the night, coming from the bathroom makes her freeze like a deer in headlight.

“Fuck,” she whispers, more to herself, and deceides its best to inform one of the others when she realizes that she isn’t the only one being alerted by Nicky’s behavior.

Joe and Nicky always appear to know where their other half is and lay their eyes immediately on each other while Nile hasn’t even begun to notice that Nicky returned from grocery shopping or Joe came back inside after capturing a fantastic view in stunning colors on a canvas.

So it’s actually no surprise that her eyes meet the dark ones of Joe, which are infinitely deep in the soft glow of the moon, slightly lighting the room through a window.

“Joe, what is wrong wi-?” She starts in a low voice, not being able to finish her question as Joe already starts moving. Heading towards the bathroom from where another gag can be heard, his shoulders are tense with concern under the fabric of his shirt.

Due to Joe’s sensible distress, worry sprouts in Nile too, leaving her to nervously fumble with her pillow. What the hell is she supposed to do? Can she even help? She doesn’t know the others as well as she would like to but it takes time to fit in her new team. But Nile is determined to do at least something, no matter how small.

“Who is it?”

“Motherfucking shit!” Nile curses, biting her tongue to prevent further swearing, and is proud to not have jumped up to the ceiling in shock.

Andy watches her observant, dark hair tousled from sleep which makes her look less sharp and cutting. It takes Nile a blink to get that Andy is waiting for an answer to her abrupt question and two more blinks to comprehend the words. “Oh, uh…Nicky, I suppose?”

Goddammit is that a question or an answer, Nile?

“Nicky,” she repeats a little firmer, clearing her throat when Andy doesn’t visibly react. It unsettles her, especially because she has no fucking idea what is happening.

Andy clearly does and merely sighs, what Nile has never heard her do before. “Fine,” she says and gets up. Her steps tell from the same strength she had when Nile met her, but there is a new caution. As if she would be aware of how vulnerable she is now, without her healing. “Come on, kid.”

Nile slowly stands, torn between the urge to listen to a superior and the wish to check on Nicky and Joe. “To where?”

“The kitchen, preparing honey milk.”

Andy is already in the hallway as Nile tears herself out of her rigor and hurries after her. “Honey milk?” She asks, convinced to have misheard because she can’t picture Andy who exes a whole Vodka bottle and kills as many with her ax as a whole army, preparing honey milk. “Andy, do you really mean honey milk?”

Andy doesn’t spare her a look. “Did I stutter, kid?”

“No.”

“Then stop asking questions you know the answer to.”

In the kitchen Andy is already getting four mugs and prompts Nile with a crook of her finger to come closer. She does, skepticism still wavering inside her. It won’t sit with her right that she and Andy are calmly going to prepare some hot beverages at 3 a.m while Nicky is in the bathroom, puking in the toilet bowl with Joe by his side, although Nile has no fucking clue to what has caused this.

But as she watches Andy closely, who gets the honey jar and plops one big spoonful into each of the mugs, she realizes that Andy is, in fact, not calm.

The movement of her hands is tense and there is a deep line of concern engraved in the skin around her mouth.

“You could heat up the milk, kid," Andy suggests quietly and Nile coughs to cover up that she was standing dumbstruck in the middle of the room, gawking at Andy as if she were some weird unicorn.

“I could,” she replies, stifling an upcoming yawn, and moves to the fridge for the milk. “if you could be so kind as to tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Nicky had a nightmare,” Andy says matter-of-factly, throwing Nile a pot which she catches by sheer luck.

“Last time I checked he was throwing up and Joe didn’t seem particularly unconcerned.” Nile pours some of the milk into the pot, placing it on the stove and turning it on. “And it doesn’t explain why we are preparing honey milk in the middle of the night.”

Andy licks the honey off the spoon, keeping the metal pressed against her tongue thoughtfully. “Okay, listen, Nile,” she finally takes the floor and the softness in her eyes makes Nile swallow with a clicking sound. “We know how fucking hard the situation is you’re in right now. All of this shit is overwhelming and new and goddamn confusing and hell, you should think that it gets easier somehow. That we should know by now how to handle things like that but we actually don’t.”

Nile doesn’t dare to speak.

After a moment of deliberate silence Andy continues gently. “But I can tell you one thing: We are here to help you, no matter how. And this?” She points to the hallway where as if summoned Nicky and Joe appear - Nicky even paler, but not as troubled as before, Joe keeping close to his husband, one arm slung protectively around his waist. “Is one of our ways to cope.”

“An immortal life isn’t light to bear, Nile,” Joe says, assigning Nicky to a chair. “We witness a lot of awful things and each death is absolutely not pleasant and can be haunting too. Years leave scars on our souls, even though our bodies heal.”

That sounds immensely motivating, Nile wants to say sarcastically, an inner defense mechanism, a response to all the chaos her life is drowning in at the moment. Looking optimistic into my future will be no problem with a prospect like that. I can’t wait to accept my new hell.

None of the words reach the tip of her tongue as she scrutinizes the other team members, becoming only aware of the leaden fatigue marking them now. The smile Joe gifts Nile with is lacking radiance, Nicky’s eyes are overshadowed by the last traces of his nightmare, and Andy’s shoulders are hunched as she fills their mugs with the heated milk.

With a gentle touch to Nicky’s cheek she slides the hot beverages of Joe and Nicky over the table top, accepting their gestures of thanks with a soft smile.

“What we’re trying to say,” Nicky picks up the threads with a hoarse voice, warming his palms on the ceramic of his mug, strongly leaning in Joe’s direction as if looking for the support of his husband. “Is that however your way to cope with all of this may look like later on, we will be there for you to guide you through.”

A small crease appears between his eyebrows and not even a second later Joe slides one hand into Nicky’s hair and carefully starts to massage the back of his head.

It takes a while for Nile to click and she takes a quick sip of her sweetened milk to distract herself from the realization that…

Joe massages the spot where Keane shattered Nicky’s skull with a merciless bullet.

Keane, the nightmare and puking - it all makes gruesome sense now.

Although we can heal, we are not indestructible.

The image of how scarred their souls must be after all this time tightens Nile’s throat in a wave of empathy and shared pain, followed by a cold rush of fear at the thought of how wounded her own soul may be in a couple of years.

But beyond the unknown of this new insight a tiny bit of…something sparks in her chest, like the first ray of sunlight in spring.

Hope. Because she is not alone even if it currently feels like this.

Comfort. Because these people who have decided to use their gift to help humanity are willing to lend her a hand in this strange part of her life.

She isn’t even mortified by her suspicious sniffling or that she has to wipe her eyes - overcome by the kindness of Nicky, Joe and Andy. “Thank you.”

“Not for that, kid,” Andy waves it off, already preparing herself a second milk with honey. “Just…don’t exclude us, okay?”

Not like Booker who held his own agony too close to his chest.

Joe winks at her, the concern slowly leaking out of his posture. “Wait until you find out what Andy’s coping mechanism is.”

Andy’s head snaps up threateningly. “Oh, you fucker!”

“She likes to cuddle,” Nicky reveals, unfazed by Andy’s growl, a crooked smirk on his face.

“I made you honey milk and this is how you thank me?” Andy groans, pretending to hit him with the rag.

Despite the serious note still drenching the air Nile can’t stop herself from giggling. “So you all have different ways to deal with the shit on earth?”

“Yes,” Joe confirms quietly. “We all struggle to see the light from time to time but what matters is that we can seek strength in each other.”

Nicky nods slightly. “We are not meant to be alone, Nile. There is a reason for that and I believe it’s because we cannot bear the weight of our ability on our own but together.”

“Got it.” Nile doesn’t feel good but she definitely feels more at ease now, knowing that her new team - these capable fighters with hearts of gold - has got her back. She raises her mug. “So, who's up for round two? Andy not included.”

#the old guard #tog fanfic #tog fic #ficlet #nile freeman #nicolo di genova #yusuf al-kaysani #andromache the scythian #found family #team as family #joe x nicky #immortal husbands #coping mechanisms #everyone is soft and needs a break #this is also the first thing I've written after an eternity due to certain things in rl #so i hope this is ok

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synergysilhouette · 9 months

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My feelings on some of the Gen 1 relationships in Monster High

I've been wanting to make this for a while! I don't remember every aspect of these relationships, but I did want to put my feelings down on them. Lemme know what you think.

Frankie

Deuce--2/10. Admittedly not an actual ship, but just a crush, Frankie was so interested in impressing Cleo that she lied and said Deuce was her boyfriend. She later apologized to Cleo and gave Deuce the "but we're cool, right?" brush off. It was very annoying, since it seemed to show that Frankie didn't really care about the fact that she got a guy in trouble with his girlfriend (who didn't even apologize to him for jumping to conclusions) just because he caught her eye.

Andy--6/10. I loved this ship for a long time, until my memory of it faded and someone reminded me that Andy was drawn to Frankie because she looked like his ex. Plus they wrote him off without any warning and he's never seen again despite enrolling (except for perhaps a cameo in "Freaky Fusion"?)

HooDude--3/10. Frankie did him so wrong. Feeling left out by her friends, she decides to make a fake boyfriend, only to throw im away when her friends tell her to be herself, deciding she wasn't ready for boys yet. Turns out he's actually alive, and is heartbroken by it. I know everyone says "she didn't know he was alive at first," but considering this is how she was made herself, it's pretty annoying that she didn't think about this. I love her, but she isn't literally 15 days old. Plus Frankie making him obsessed with her results in him being kicked out of the house and placed under the care of Ms. Kindergrubber. Maybe if Frankie hadn't gone overboard, they could've had a sibling relationship and he wouldn't have to have been kicked out.

Jackson/Holt--5/10. I could go either way with this. Jackson has obvious feelings for Frankie, but I don't recall if she ever openly reciprocated. Personally I feel like they're on two different wavelengths; Frankie is on the upside of the school hierarchy while Jackson is on the downside. They just seem like they run in different circles, but I enjoy the idea of two characters like them getting together.

Neigthan--8/10. Okay, I'm biased because I like Neighthan's character and the fact that he's a hybrid monster. Frankie helps him with self-confidence and he has a chill attitude that balances out her voltageous excitement. Don't judge me.

Cleo de Nile

Deuce--4/10. I can't be the only one who thinks that Deuce's personality changed when Yuri Lowenthal stopped voicing him, but I digress. I feel like there's a weird power dynamic going on with Cleo and Deuce; Cleo is often dramatic and spoiled while Deuce is laid back and cool. While I like them individually, it feels like Cleo takes Deuce for granted a lot, especially when she bosses him around. "Scaris" felt particularly weird with how Deuce becomes clingy after Cleo doesn't text or call him within a short period of time and asks her never to do so again. It makes him feel like he has no life without her, which is a giant red flag. It astounds me that they had toxic moments and yet "Boo York" had Deuce feeling like he wasn't good enough for her without Cleo really doing any soulsearching for why he may feel that way.

Draculaura

Heath--5/10. I feel like they had potential beyond just one episode, and I could've seen them being a cute, fan-favorite couple. Kinda wish that was referenced again later.

Clawd--6/10. They seem like one of the more stable couples, but Draculaura literally treating him like a dog just feels..weird. Especially when she hit him with a newspaper for being bad. I can't imagine Clawdeen or Howleen being in a relationship with a manster and them treating them like that. Maybe it would've been better if we had episodes where Clawd asked Draculaura to treat him like that, but I don't know. It would've still been weird.

Lagoona

Gil--4/10. Gil having racist parents isn't his fault, but it definitely feels like he was stringing Lagoona along at certain points.

Abbey

Romulus--5/10. They didn't actually date, but I was interested to see more of his character, and I'd be curious as to how their romance compared to Draculaura and Clawd's. He seemed rather bashful around her, which was an adorable new side of him.

Heath--7/10. I love the opposites attract vibe, and how they didn't feel too different to the point where I don't like them together. It's a really cute romance.

Ghoulia

Slo Mo--6/10. I'd give it more, but sadly the mansters don't get as much attention. That said, despite his basic design, Slo Mo is a sweet character, as he strives to become smart enough for Ghoulia (side note: I appreciate that despite talking the same, zombies don't all share the same intelligence--or at the very least, Ghoulia is the exception), and I do wish Monster High worked to show him developing more as a result of his relationship with the smartest Ghoul in school. They deserved more, but given how mansters are treated and how underrated Ghoulia is, it's unsurprising that this is the case.

#monster high #frankie stein #cleo de nile #deuce gorgon #draculaura #lagoona blue #abbey bominable #clawdeen wolf #clawd wolf

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youssefguedira · 2 years

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dear followers today i offer you another iron maiden joe prequel snippet. tomorrow? who knows.

warning for mentions of alcohol and smoking {brief}

It's past midnight, which means Nicky has the pool to himself: no sane person would go for a swim at half past two in the morning, especially not on a Sunday - Monday, now, he supposes. To be fair, he's not swimming, just sitting on the pool's edge with his jeans rolled up, feet in the water. It's quiet, apart from the gentle lapping of the water against the sides and the occasional sounds of activity from the motel behind them - not the nicest, but the best they could find on short notice. The pool is lit from within, glowing blue against the darkness. They couldn't risk going to any of their usual places, not when they don't know exactly what Booker told Merrick.

Nicky sighs. Lifts the cigarette in his hand to his lips and takes a long drag, closes his eyes as he exhales. He's exhausted, but he can't go to sleep yet. He's got a clear line of sight to their room's door here, can hear anything that could signal something's wrong. He'll stay up all night if he has to, because if he dreams he'll dream of the lab, or of Yusuf, and neither of those are things he wants right now.

(Well. That's not entirely true. Because as much as he hates the dreams, as shaken as they leave him every time, he does look forward to them in some twisted way. They're the only way he gets to see Yusuf anymore, after all.)

He's startled by the sound of footsteps on the concrete behind him, but relaxes once he recognises them. He doesn't turn around, but he does stub out his cigarette - the health effects have never been a problem for him, but he knows all about second hand smoking and the damage it can do. He'll have to quit, most likely. He should have done it a long time ago.

"Thought I'd find you out here. Can't sleep?" Andy asks behind him. He hums, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the few stars left, the rest hidden by light pollution. Andy settles herself beside him, rolling up her own jeans and dipping her toes in the water, wincing when it jolts her wound. "Fuck."

"How's it feeling?" he asks, careful not to let himself think too much about what it signifies.

"Hurts," Andy says. "Raided the minibar, though." Something clinks beside her - two bottles, both already open. She hands one to Nicky. "How are you feeling?"

It's a question he's not sure he's ready to answer. Tired, certainly. Angry. Hurt. Missing Yusuf so much it sits in his chest like a stone, but that's not new.

"I don't know," he says instead of any of that, which is largely the truth. "Sebastien?"

"Hasn't moved. But he got something to eat, I think."

Guilt claws at him - he should have reached out, should have noticed something before it got this bad. But he'd been too wrapped up in his own grief to see, and now they're paying for it, and-

"You're thinking too much," Andy says. "I can hear you." She takes a long sip from her bottle.

"You'll probably have to be careful with that now," Nicky tells her, lightly teasing, and Andy elbows him. But she's smiling, at least, so it's all just as well.

"You should get some sleep, Nico," she says then, gentle, as if he's the one with a bullet hole in his side.

He shakes his head. "Don't think I can tonight. But you should go, you're healing."

Andy shrugs. "I tried, but it hurt, and I didn't want to wake Quynh."

"How is she?"

"You tell me," Andy responds. "You were both in there."

Truly, Nicky doesn't want to think about it that long. Not now, when Nile is still so shaken and they still need to do something about Booker, not when Andy is mortal now and he's still not sure what that means for them. When they're all safe, when they've figured out what to do next, he'll think about it.

"I miss him," Andy says unexpectedly, and Nicky knows exactly who she's talking about - who else could it be? "When Nile dreamed of him, the other night - Book stopped talking about them. I guess I thought-"

"I know," Nicky says. Nile's description of her dream is still running on a loop in his mind.

Andy sighs, and in that moment she looks so, so tired. "I always thought I'd see him again, you know. Maybe it was foolish of me, but. I always hoped, I guess.”

“Yeah,” is all Nicky says, a lump in his throat, because, well. What else does he say? He takes a long sip from the bottle in his hand. Five hundred years, he’d told Nile, pretending like he doesn’t know exactly how long it’s been down to the day. Over half of his life.

Andy doesn’t say anything else, winces when she shifts her weight.

“Want me to take another look at it?” he offers.

She shakes her head. “Tomorrow, maybe.”

There’s not much more to be said, after that. Nicky holds out his arm in a wordless offer, and Andy leans into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. She doesn’t fall asleep, but it’s a near thing. Nicky’s so tired his bones feel heavy, but he doesn’t fall asleep either.

It’s not exactly peaceful, not after everything that’s happened today, but. It’s good to have her with him.

#neon writes #iron maiden joe #this one heavily inspired by il nilo nel naviglio by mahmood so. you know #resto qui butto un'altra notte cerco il nilo nel naviglio. dove vado se non ci sei tu piu #qui vicino. se non c'e piu il nilo. you know #cielo di cobalto

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bodgei · 1 year

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@marwan-simposium Jan prompt Doomed relationship and I'm just looking out for you

Watch your step, kid (protect ya neck, kid)

Majid wasn’t sure why he was still with these people. He had met Nile and Nicky at a bar, since then he had become some sort of… mascot to the five. They took him around the world, he enjoyed that.

He spared with them, and had learned more about fighting in an afternoon with Andy than he had learned in the rest of his life at gyms.

He ate with them. Majid hadn't been so pleasantly full in…well, he couldn't remember.

After Nicky and Nile had first brought Majid home with them, while Nicky was cooking, Nile had explained. She had shown Majid a few photos of Joe.

Majid had to admit, the likeness was undeniable. But the immortal part?

He had watched Nile open her forearm time after time before he could believe.

He had thought that Nicky would try to get Majid to replace the man who had been his partner for over 900 years. But Nicky never came on to him. Nicky never called him by the wrong name. Nicky never lost sight that Majid was Majid.

After a few weeks with the group, Majid started slipping into bed with the crusader, holding him while they slept.

That was just what they did for over a year.

Nicky never asked for more, but if he had, Majid would have said yes.

If any of them had asked he would have said yes.

Majid wished one of them would ask.

They were in Philadelphia for - well he didn’t know what, he never knew what until they were on to the next thing. Nicky had kissed Majid’s hand before slipping into the dark, it wasn’t the normal thing that Nicky would do in the morning. Majid rolled over and went back to sleep.

He woke to his foot being kicked. Booker said, “Up now.”

Majid glared up at the Frenchmen, “Why?”

“We are in Philadelphia,” Booker said, “And Nile said there is something you wanted to do.”

“The statue?” Majid asked.

“The statue,” Nile said from the door.

Majid was a bit surprised when they pulled up to the Art Museum. This wasn’t where he had wanted to go. He had wanted to see the statue of the real boxer.

“Welp?” Nile asked with a huge grin on her face.

“Let’s do this,” Majid said.

“I’ll meet you back down here,” Booker said, “At the statue.”

It was 72 steps with a flat area a bit more than half way up. The run was, well it was 72 weird shaped stairs. It wasn’t hard exactly. It was just what you did in Philadelphia, especially if you were a fighter.

At the top they looked back down the stairs. Back down into the city. Back down to the statue of a man who never existed.

“Twice as many people visit the Rocky statue as go see the Liberty Bell,” Nile said.

“People like movies,” Majid said, his breath still harsh, his thighs still warm from restricting his stride, “It was Joe Frazier that ran these stairs. A real fighter.”

Majid was a little surprised that he sounded bitter about it.

“Well,” Nile said, “You know.”

Mijid just nodded, looking down. Not looking at Nile. He knew something else was coming but he wasn’t going to ask. He just started down the stairs. They met Booker at the statue.

“Come on, kid,” Booker said, “we need to have a talk.”

They walked back to the car and Nile got into the driver’s seat and Booker pulled Majid into the back. They were all quiet for a bit when Nile said, “he brought up Joe Frazier.”

“So we chose well then,” Booker said, the whole sentence sounded like a sigh.

Majid stayed silent as they drove, waiting for the others to tell him what this was about, but no one said anything until they pulled up to a Victorian industrial brick building.

“So, we are leaving you behind in this city,” Booker said, “Whatever you have with Nicky is doomed.”

“I don’t have anything with Nicky,” Majid said.

Booker kept on like Majid hadn’t said anything, “you are going to get older, and he is going to stay the same. He has already lost Joe, and I am not going to watch his heart get broken again.”

Nile turned, looking over the back of the seat, “We’re just looking out for you.”

Majid didn’t interject.

“Let’s show you what we got you,” Booker said.

“I can read,” Majid said. He could read ‘Joe Frazier’s Gym’ and see the boxing gloves carved over the front windows. It was a beautiful building with a haunted abandoned look to it, “This is Joe Frazier’s Gym.”

“Well,” Booker went on, “it is Majid Zamari’s gym now.”

“I can’t run a gym,” Majid, “Who has that kind of money?”

“You do,” Nile said, “Nicky has been setting aside money for you.”

“Joe’s share,” Booker added. Majid took a step back at the naked grief on Booker’s face. Majid could feel his own grief for his brother rising.

Maijd could feel that he was about to be alone again.

He hated being alone.

“You are going to be working with kids at risk and people who have been incarcerated,” Nile said, “Copley set it up.”

“There are apartments upstairs,” Booker said, “We are going to leave you here.”

“My things?”

“In the trunk,” Nile said gently.

They got his bags and walked through the empty building and up into an apartment that was bigger than any apartment Majid had ever lived. Even when he lived with his parents.

Then the immortals left him alone.

Five years passed. The reopened Frazier’s gym thrived. Majid spent his days turning people away from the path he had walked after his release. The gym was full and busy. Majid was happy. Or at least he had a purpose for the first time in his life. There was a well thumbed Quran in his desk with a note tucked into it. The note read,

Majid,

This was his. I know that you want to leave, and it is unfair to hold you. You

have his face and that was a comfort to me when I needed it.

Thrive Majid Zamari.

~N-

Letters came. Money came. The gym thrived.

And then one early morning when he was doing his own workout before the doors were open when the immortal Italian just sort of appeared next to him.

“You look well,” Nicky said.

Majid turned away from the heavy bag and looked hard at Nicky, “You look…Different?”

“I’m not immortal,” Nicky said with a shrug, “Do you need someone to teach sword forms?”

Majid smiled, “It seems I was looking to hire someone to do just that.”

#the old guard #fiction #the year of Marwan #majid zamari #Nicky #Booker #nile freeman #nicolò di genova

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asamandra · 2 years

Text

Whumptober 2022 - Day 17

Hanging by a threat - Breaking point

“We need to talk,” Nile said when they came into the kitchen. Nicky was just chopping carrots while Joe stirred in a pot. Booker leaned against a counter and drank coffee and Quynh just rummaged through a counter. She closed it and turned around, too.

“What is it?” Booker asked and put his mug aside.

“Andy,” Nile said and sat down opposite of Nicky on the small table they had squeezed in one of the corners of the kitchen. “Something’s wrong with her.”

Joe turned around and furrowed his brows.

“Tell us,” Quynh said, closed the counter and sat down beside Nicky.

“I can’t put my finger on it, it’s just…” Nile started then sighed. “You know her longer than me but… she started to smoke again. She hasn’t smoked in the last five years and now she’s started it again. And her alcohol consumption has increased, too.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that as well,” Joe nodded.

“She snapped at Booker yesterday because his TV was too loud,” Quynh added with a shrug.

“And she just had the third cold in half a year,” Nicky said.

“So,” Nile said and looked around. “We agree that she’s behaving weird, right?”

“Not to forget that she only wears track pants and old ratty shirts nowadays,” Booker said. He emptied his mug, went to the coffee maker to refill it and then to the fridge to get some milk. “She hates track pants!”

“They are comfy,” Nicky shrugged and Joe sighed theatrically beside him. “But you’re right, it’s unusual.”

“What does that mean?” Nile asked. She looked around, looked at others.

“If I didn’t know better I’d say she’s at her breaking point,” Nicky said. “These are signs for the beginning of…”

“Andy doesn’t have emotional meltdowns, right?” Booker interrupted him. “Right?”

“It’s been a tough few years,” Joe said. “Maybe… maybe she just needs some time off?”

They all looked at each other for a few moments and then Quynh rose.

“I think we need to lie low for a while,” she said. “I’ll talk to her and I’ll convince her to go on a vacation with me.”

“Malta,” Nicky said. “Take her to Malta. It’s a healing place.”

Quynh nodded.

“Thanks,” she smiled. “And if you need us…”

“We will get along,” Booker said. “Don’t worry about us.”

“But if you need us, call us,” Nile added. Quynh nodded, smiled and rose.

#whumptober2022 #no.17 #breaking point #the old guard #fic #andromache the scythian #quynh #andromaquynh #yusuf al-kaysani #nicolò di genova #kaysanova #immortal husbands #sebastien le livre #booker #nile freeman #book of nile

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ssunkissedsunflowerss · 1 year

Note

Hello hello, I was traveling through Andy's old imagines and saw your post, so I wanted to send in and idea I had some time ago. Well, everyone knows Andy is protective over her people so I thought of something:

Reader is a young witch (you can go wild with this concept but I was picturing something to do with nature when I imagined it) and Andy is very wary about it, she in her very long life had never seen someone do what the reader does so when reader wakes up as an immortal and tells the group about it Andy gets super angry and stressed, she starts being mean and dry with us and reader is absolutely heartbroken since she liked Andy from the beginning (you can claim they are magical soulmates or something, i dont know). The reader tries her best to not show weakness to the group but after some stress and/or fight she cries in front of the group and just confesses about the psychological pain Andy's treatment has been causing her. The group feels super bad about the way reader is feeling so they discuss it with her (Andy) and tell her to apologize, she goes after the reader and finds her crying in in Nile's arms which makes her get super jealous, the rest of the fic can be about her processing her feelings for the reader and trying to redeem herself. I would be very happy if it could end with fluff (I really just want to see Andy pampering the reader to apologize and being all snuggly).

I don't know if you make chubby reader fanfics but if you do, could please include this one on the list? I am chubby and honestly, I do think we deserve some appreciation If you don't want to write it like that, please just use the idea, this concept has been running through my mind forever now. I am sorry about the big message and also am sorry for any grammar mistake, english isn't my mother language.

Thank you very much for your imagines, you have been making a lot of girls happy, I can guarantee you that.

(PS: I am one of them).

You are a star for sending this in! (๑˃̵　ᴗ　˂̵)و

And what an idea! I love that it has a little bit of everything. I’ll abandon this one idea that i have of andy for now in favour of tinkering with yours.

ooh regarding writing a specific reader, i try to write the reader in every one of my fics as non-descriptive as possible because even though i’m not a fan of using y/n or e/c, i still want people reading them to feel inclusive. The rest is up to their imaginations. Unless of course when I’m writing for buff or inhumanly massive characters, like ambessa medarda and lady dimitrescu. If so, I tend to make the side difference distinctly apparent. I want you to understand that it’s not that i don’t want to write a specific type of character but rather, I’m afraid that I’ll describe some things wrong or unintentionally make offence to people concerned. With this one as well, I’ll probably go vague. I hope you’ll still find it agreeable.

And oh my, never apologise for giving me splendid ideas! Honestly, thank YOU darling for being such a sweetheart. I’m just happy that you like my silly little creations.

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sealie-seolh · 2 years

Text

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose

Nile slobbed on the sofa, back on the seat cushion, long legs stretched out – surfing a woeful selection of channels on the safe house’s television.

Bored.Bored. BORED.

“What do you, guys, like miss? You know?” She waved aimlessly at the dull television.

“Miss?” Joe peered over the top of his sketch pad.

“Nah, nah, not miss. Uhm… like what is different now, maybe not better? Different? I dunno.” She was bored, and antsy, her skin was pricking but she didn’t want to do anything except something—but she didn’t know what.

Andy dropped over the back of the sofa, thumping between them as Nicky settled on the back by Joe’s shoulder. Her can of beer popped with a satisfying hiss.

“Bread,” Andy said without any explanation, after a healthy slurp of beer. “And, to be sure, beer.”

“Socks -- sock wraps were pretty gnarly.” Joe grinned.

“Bed mattresses, cannot tell a lie,” Nicky said, and bent over to meet Joe’s upward turned kiss. “But a hammock is a hammock and can be a lot of fun.”

“Honestly, don't get me wrong I like spinning; it's relaxing, but just being able to buy spun wool. Loom–mechanics, though,” Andy said traveling millennia in sentences. “Or even better clothes,” Hmmmm.”

“Hmmm?”

“Well, I think that we can all agree that the exploitation of people to create goods is bad,” Andy said flatly.

Nile nodded soberly.

“Lighting,” Joe offered.

“What?” Nile asked, being dragged back to her conversation by the segue.

“Modern electric lights are pretty fucking amazing. Day into night? Outstanding. No choking on guttering candles. Dark corners in ball rooms.” Joe cocked his head to the side with a sublime smile. "Well... sometimes. Fuck LED headlights, though.”

“I miss verjuice,” Nicky said sadly.

“You can and do make it, my love,” Joe pointed out.

“True, but it would be nice to be able to partake in the sweet and sour dishes of my childhood without doing food prep for five days,” Nicky mused.

“No one makes garum, right,” Andy whined.

“Canning. I approve of canning," Joe interrupted, clearly side-lining a well-turned over conversation. “I can see no downsides of canning?”

“Unless you don’t have a can opener,” Nile said, voice of experience.

“Never happens.” Andy pulled out her favourite foot long, serrated knife from her boot. And always one to have the last word, stabbed the table top.

plus ça, plus c'est la même chose

#the old guard #myfics #mini-togfics

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cafephilewrites · 1 year

Text

that which we call a rose

On AO3

There are lots of things about living with her new immortal family that Nile knows it will take her time to figure out, literal centuries worth of quirks and references and likes and dislikes. Nile suspects it might take her centuries of her own to learn them all, but some things are abundantly obvious.

It takes Nile less than a week—a few days really—to figure out that Nicky and Joe love pet names.

There are the usual suspects, 'love' and 'dear' and the like, which both Nicky and Joe apply liberally in English and every other language they speak, at least as far as Nile can tell. They also employ nicknames and cute little terms of endearment for the other members of the family. Nile is sorellina, which she's pretty sure means 'little sister', and Andy is…well, Nile isn't actually quite sure what the Arabic term that Joe keeps using means, but Andy seems to like it, so Nile assumes it's flattering.

Three days after their arrival in Amsterdam, Andy attempts to cook spanakopita on the fancy new induction cooktop in their rental and almost sets the kitchen on fire. After the smoke alarm has stopped blaring and all the windows are cracked, Joe gives Andy an amused, exasperated look.

"Really, habibti?" he says. "You couldn't have just asked Nicky to show you the controls?"

Nile snorts to herself. She remembers that one; Dizzy used it. Nile is pretty sure it technically means 'my love', but the way Dizzy said habibi was usually something more like 'you idiot'.

She hears it again, two days later at the breakfast table.

"Did you finish my coffee again, habibi?" Joe stares morosely at the suddenly empty mug by his elbow.

"I did indeed, o mæ nemîgo," Nicky says. He plants a kiss on Joe's head and swipes the mug, turning to refill it.

Joe mutters something in Arabic that Nile doesn't catch, and Nicky smiles. "Of course, miscredente pagano."

Nile recognizes that last term, too—at least she thinks she does. Nicky uses it often. Nile's Italian is next to non-existent, but based on what this endearment sounds like, she's really starting to doubt her already -limited skills.

"What does miscredente pagano mean?" Nile asks Andy a couple days later when Joe and Nicky are shopping for dinner.

Andy looks at her strangely.

"It's just, Nicky uses it a lot," Nile explains. "I know he and Joe have a lot of pet names for each other, and I don't mean to snoop or anything, but I am trying to learn Italian, and miscredente pagano sounds like—well, it confused me, is all."

Andy huffs a laugh, and Nile's heart sinks. Maybe this phrase is too personal or really dirty or something. Maybe she shouldn't have asked.

Nile's hesitation must show on her face because Andy bites back her laughter and sits forward in her chair.

"Heathen infidel."

"Wait, what?"

"Miscredente pagano means 'heathen infidel'," Andy says. "A more direct translation might be 'pagan unbeliever'. English has so many words these days." She shrugs. "It's one of Nicky's favorites."

"Nicky calls Joe a heathen infidel?"

"Of course."

"And what does Joe call Nicky?"

"Oh, lots of things. 'My sworn enemy', 'murderous bastard', 'whoreson', 'sodomite'. That's a favorite of both of theirs, actually."

A suspicion is growing in the corner of Nile's mind.

"And, um..." Nile tries to reproduce one of the Arabic terms she's heard Joe use, and she thinks she must have gotten it close enough because Andy's eyes light in recognition. A moment later, the older woman bursts out laughing, and Nile's heart sinks.

"That means 'filthy Frankish invader'," Andy tells her.

Nile frowns. "But Nicky isn't a Frank, is he? I must have gotten it wrong."

"No, no," Andy assures her. "You got it right."

Their conversation is interrupted as Joe and Nicky return, arms laden with the groceries. Nile watches as the two men troupe into the kitchen and begin efficiently stocking the fridge and cupboards, leaving out a handful of ingredients for dinner that night.

Joe finishes emptying the last of the shopping bags and stops in the middle of the kitchen, staring around with a comical look of bemusement, shading quickly toward betrayal. "Nicky, what happened to the ravioli?"

"The pre-made ravioli?" Nicky wrinkles his nose, his tone suggesting that pre-made ravioli is the gravest of sins.

Joe scowls as he begins chopping vegetables at the counter, but Nile can tell that it's mostly for show. "Don't tell me you put it back on the shelf, ya khara."

Nicky just laughs.

"What does—?" Nile begins, but Andy shakes her head.

"Trust me, kid. You don't even want to know."

#the old guard #joe x nicky #tog #joe al kaysani #nicky di genova #ao3 #kaysanova #my fic #nile freeman #andromache the scythian #terms of endearment #affectionate insults #apologies for the dubious translations #I genuinely did try #corrections from native speakers are appreciated #cafephile #cafephilewrites

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nimblermortal · 2 years

Text

The Old Guard and Languages

Disclaimer: I am deliberately working with only what we see in the films, so the featurette has no bearing; and also, my languages are English/German/Russian/BR-Portuguese, so, rather a lot of European bias there.

Andy: Does not know all the languages, but looks like she does because she knows a) so many of them and b) so many root languages. You know how once you know a Romance language the second one is easier and the third is just weird slang (I say, as if I had experience with this)? She’s not working with a Romance language, she’s working with Proto-Indo-European. Also, just generally having enough grammar background and learning-languages experience that she can cobble together something that sounds almost right (”Are you from Poland? You speak Quechua like you’re Polish”) in very little time. Mainly struggles with figuring out which language someone is speaking in the first place. Extremely utilitarian about her language enthusiasm, she Keeps Up To Date.

Quynh: Not really very far behind Andy. The main thing she struggles with, at this point, is the degree to which languages have changed since she was put in the box. Her English is stilted - it’s Modern English - and she laughs in weird places (like every time someone asks what she’s doing she says “Nothing!” and pokes Andy in the ribs). She’s like that in everything. Adores pictographic alphabets, they keep her entertained for longer, and is going to have a field day working out scientific terms in written, modern Chinese. No dictionaries, that’s cheating.

Yusuf: Not at the wizard level of the first two, but a bit above the sort of person who’s just like, “Oh, I’ve never heard that language... but I know Serbian and Arabic, so... he’s talking about the garbage truck schedule, and he’s wrong, let me just let him know.” (I’m told these people exist. See point abut Andy.) He enjoys language the most of them, in terms of what it can do poetically, and geeks out about metaphors, idioms, and translations in a way only Booker is prepared to follow him on.

Nicoló: Please not another language. Oh, please, no. He picks up lingua francas as they come, but language is just not his thing. On the other hand, the pidgin he has with Yusuf is ornately weird. Like when I was in Germany and studying quantum mechanics with another expat and we’d just remember the word in one language half way through a sentence and change languages to follow it up, but then with German verb kickers every so often the sentence would end *pause* ...können. Add to that the fact that Nicoló loves slang the most. They have an agreement, as a group, that slang doesn’t count until it’s survived for fifty years; Nicoló uses, and abuses, slang way before then, and he’ll translate it half way through too. His language is a mess.

Booker: Closest to Nicoló in terms of learning the currently-relevant languages and going from there. So he’s got French/English/Spanish/Portuguese, plus Occitan and Ligurian for personal reasons, and then he added Romansh and Romanian because he’d collected one from every other category of Romance languages and I guess - and then Latin, Arabic, Chinese, Japanese... but if you asked he’d tell you Spanish, Arabic, French, English. SAFE. He wants them purely for reading purposes, but he’s also the go-to guy for sign languages.

Nile: English, high school French and Spanish, the beginnings of Pashto. She’s not bad with languages, she’ll probably wind up around Yusuf’s level. She’s motivated by communicating with people (I cannot relate), but given the American school system her French and Spanish are both pretty rudimentary and also decaying. Booker’s bringing her up to speed, which means her French is going to also be a bit weird, because he’s very Académie française about his French and passionately disagrees with the académie on several fronts. (Yusuf has an almost inverse relationship with Arabic, I can’t remember the terms I’d need to explain that idea.) Nile is the one who delights the most in linguistic puns, and bilingual or worse puns. She does not consider herself capable in a language until she has punned in it.

Nicoló is trying to decide whether to bake Nile Happy New Language cakes, or if he really does not want to encourage this behavior. He’s not sure he has a leg to stand on given the slang thing, but what she’s doing is abominable. Booker approves, because he’s French, and is considering suggesting Japanese as her next language, which has Quynh’s support because she doesn’t know he’s only in it for the puns.

#The Old Guard #drafts folder

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paradisetemporarilymisplaced · 3 years

Text

So I was being a basic bitch the other day and listening to my true crime podcasts when it occurred to me just how suspicious Nile’s “death” would look to everyone not in the Guard, leading me to a train of thought that, 2200 words later, absolutely got away from me but I can’t let go so I’m inflicting it on all of you!

To set the stage, we know the movie takes place over approximately a week. Here’s what happens to Nile from the military’s point of view:

She dies is very seriously injured

She heals without a scratch

Just before she’s supposed to be shipped out to Germany, she vanishes, leaving two men concussed (and presumably reporting being knocked out by a woman with short hair wearing civilian clothes)

She goes AWOL for several days

They get word from the CIA that she is to be reported killed in action (details unclear)

So, at the beginning of this very weird week, the USMC has to tell Nile’s family of her death critical injury. What her family was told depends on how long she was dead – a Google search tells me that family will be notified in person within 8 hours of a soldier’s death, but we don’t know how long her first death lasted. For an injury, however, they’d get a phone call to notify them and the unit would arrange for them to visit as soon as the soldier is transferred out of a combat zone. Like I remember when I was in high school, a guy from my church who was a Marine was really seriously injured in a helicopter crash in Iraq and from what I could tell, his parents were told immediately and were flown out to Germany to see him, so it stands to reason that Nile’s family would have been informed relatively quickly after her throat was slashed, one way or another.

And then, she goes AWOL. Her family would be notified while the USMC tried to figure out where she went, not least because the military would want to know if she’s contacted them. (And it’s possible that her family may have been on the way to Germany to see her since we know that’s where she was supposed to go!) So for several days:

Nile’s mom and brother have no idea where she is

They know she was seriously injured and most certainly should not have been moving around on her own

They can’t get a hold of her

The military can’t tell them anything

And the next thing they know for sure is that she was “killed in action.” After being injured and vanishing into thin air. And they presumably cannot produce her body or any concrete evidence of her death. In any case, something sketchy is going on, so they’re like. SMELLS LIKE A MILITARY COVERUP.

In a surprise to probably no one, there is a well-documented legacy of mysterious US military deaths, particularly of women of color (TW for sexual assault in these links). The cases of LaVena Johnson and Vanessa Guillenin particular have made national news because of their families’ persistence in seeking justice. Likewise, Nile is a Black woman, and her mom and brother are most certainly hypercognizant of (a) state violence against Black people and (b) these high-profile cases of suspicious military deaths. So her family are seriously side-eyeing the situation, knowing that (a) the military has a serious incentive (and a documented history) of covering up things that make them look bad and (b) nothing about Nile’s disappearance and supposed death are adding up.

And Andy’s right. Nile does come from warriors. And you know who else does? Her brother.

Don’t get me wrong. Nile’s mom would absolutely not back down. She’d know something was up and want to get to the bottom of it. But based on what I know about Gen X parents (mine), they’re not the most technologically savvy. Like they can use the internet, but they didn’t grow up with it the way we young millennials and Gen Z did. So Nile’s brother takes the lead. And what do zillennials do best?

Social media.

Nile’s brother starts going hard on any site he can, trying to get the word out to see if anyone knows what happened to his sister. He starts a Reddit thread. He starts a Facebook group. He reaches out to the media and true crime bloggers and podcasters à la Sarah Turney, getting loud and being a general nuisance in hopes of getting some answers. He gets his friends and Nile’s friends involved. Maybe eventually Dizzy, Jay, and others from Nile’s unit hear about it and reach out, telling him what they saw and how weird it all was. He’s drumming up interest, and soon “Nile Freeman” becomes a household name (at least among the true crime fans).

Copley is, of course, trying his best, but at this point there is just so much that it’s impossible for him to scrub everything. Sure, he can erase new footage of Nile and the Guard, but what can he do about Reddit threads and podcast episodes that are speculating something weird has happened? Maybe he could hack the sites and shut those things down, but honestly, that’s the last thing he’d want to do, because that only adds weight to the theory that Nile’s disappearance is a military coverup. So eventually he has to tell Andy what’s going on.

Andy, obviously, does not take the news well. However, she is also completely computer illiterate, because that’s Booker’s job and he’s the only one who ever bothered to learn what the internet is in any meaningful way. (She probably calls Booker for advice, and for the record, I think Booker would have no qualms about shutting down conspiracy threads, tinhats be damned, but Copley is too concerned about the consequences. He’s ex-CIA for crying out loud, he knows how it’ll look if they scrub every mention of Nile’s name from the internet.) Maybe she confers with Joe and Nicky but, let’s be honest, they’d be equally unhelpful. So at this point, she knows they have to bring in Nile.

But the thing about Nile is that she, too, knows how to use the internet (duh). Aside from her being a young millennial/digital native, we know from the cave scene where she’s giving Booker suggestions on how to track Copley that she clearly is even more computer savvy than the average person. And for that reason she almost definitely took over the day-to-day tech stuff after Booker’s exile. So I think it would be foolish to expect her to be unaware of what’s happening. She’s not contacting her family or posting on the message boards or anything, but she knows what’s up. So Copley and the team probably sit her down to “break the news,” but we know the girl does not have a poker face (see: literally shooting herself in the foot and not being able to play it cool whatsoever) and cracks immediately, telling them she’s seen everything about her case – she’s not interacting with any of it, she certainly didn’t instigate anything, but she knows. (And she is so goddamn proud of her brother.)

At this point, I’d like to pause and consider Nile’s role in the overall narrative of this movie. She’s set up as a foil to Andy, obviously, but she’s also a foil to Booker. Booker, who, like Andy, is a serious pessimist, but who, unlike Andy, still has very fresh memories and trauma associated with being the new kid, which have destroyed him. In his mind (and Andy’s), if Nile communicates with her family, she’ll become just like him in a century or two – bitter, alone, and stuck with her grief and memories of watching her family die and knowing they died resenting her. It’s a small sample size, but this is the only experience they have to go off of.

But it doesn’t have to be like that.

There’s been a lot of discussion of TOG being a fundamentally queer movie – a group of people brought together because of something inherent about themselves that is different, that must be hidden, that causes others to hate, fear, and reject them. Booker’s backstory is the archetypal traumatic “coming out” story – his family learns who he is, hate him for it, and attempt to cast him out of their lives. He’s stuck with his trauma, his pain, his loss, and it consumes him.

But what if Nile’s family would be the opposite? What if her “coming out” to them as immortal is met with acceptance, love, celebration? What if her family is just overjoyed to have her back, and they don’t care what the circumstances are? I'm reminded of this incredible post from @shitty-old-guard-deaths a while back, where Nile’s mother hits Booker with a frying pan because “my baby let me believe she was dead for FIVE YEARS based on your bad advice???” (which may or may not have inspired this whole tangent). Nile takes the advice of someone who did the same thing she wants to do because she doesn’t want to risk her family’s rejection. She wants the good memories with her family and is afraid that showing them her true self will bring her unbearable pain, forever replacing those memories. But, with high risk comes high reward.

Anyway. Nile and the team are trying to come up with a plan for how to handle this whole thing, but she’s not really participating because she’s too afraid to hope. Until finally, quickly, so she doesn’t lose her nerve, she suggests she reach out to them, knowing that, realistically, that’s the only solution before things snowball even further out of control. The team is shocked, but realize that she has a point. They decide that Copley should actually be the first point of contact, posing as a US government official to talk with them and test the waters.

So Copley goes to Nile’s family’s house to talk with her mom and brother. They’re probably distrustful and apprehensive, but nonetheless secretly ecstatic that their work has paid off. They talk and review all of the information that they’ve collected, including testimonials from the people on Nile’s base and recent sightings (along with photos) of Nile (with the same three people) over the last few years that people have sent them but they haven’t posted publicly. At this point, Copley’s like, yeah this is about to blow up, we gotta put our cards on the table. He convinces them to come with him to some safe house/black site/whatever he can get that is technologically impenetrable (I’m picturing them in like, an interrogation room at a police station kind of deal), takes their phones, locks the doors, and brings in Nile.

What follows is the most delightful reunion scene of all time, bringing Joe, Nicky, and even Andy to tears as they watch and listen from outside the room. With Copley’s help, Nile tells her mom and brother about her immortality and what’s been going on since she died (within reason, of course), and they are thrilled. They don’t understand why (because no one does) but they don’t question it and they see it as a gift from God – she’s been resurrected, she will live, and she has a purpose. Her mother and brother are so happy to see her again and are willing to agree with pretty much anything to stay in her life as long as they can.

So. They set up some complicated agreement (they bring in the other three for support/intimidation as needed) setting the terms of their relationship. They swear Nile’s family to secrecy, maybe bringing up the lab to show how high the stakes are, and they readily agree. They come up with some cover story for Nile’s brother to share on the message boards (maybe that the government has opened an investigation but because it’s an open case he has to shut it all down? Tells people to direct their tips somewhere else? Something to that effect). There’s still speculation, of course, but without Nile’s brother at the helm providing the energy, the hype dies down as news stories are wont to do without any movement. And Nile’s family goes to work for the team. The experience has taught them that Copley can’t possibly do everything himself, especially when it comes to social media, so Nile’s brother takes the lead on the day-to-day tracking/social media while Copley and her mom focus on finding jobs and scrubbing their traces afterward.

So there you have it: Nile gets to integrate her biological family into her found family and spend the rest of their lives with them as it should be, Copley gets some badly needed help managing the reality of social media, the team finally has a positive narrative surrounding outsiders Knowing About Them AND about interacting with people from their previous life, and the audience gets the happy ending to this very lovely and very queer story to counteract the pain associated with Booker’s family.

Plus, you know, I’m a sucker for both a good government conspiracy theory and for Nile getting every good thing she deserves.

#the old guard #tog #tog fanfiction #tog meta #immortal family #nile freeman #mine #damn look at me contributing to a fandom! that’s new #pls reblog if you like this my self esteem could really use it #I just love nile so much and I’m being the nile-centric content I want to see in the world #it is just genuinely nuts to think abt how this situation would be perceived by anyone outside the narrative #she just mysteriously heals from a fatal injury and then VANISHES!!! this should be national fuckin news #also I do think there’s a major hole in the story when you think abt social media #like the only time it’s even hinted at is right at the very beginning when Andy erases that girl’s selfie #and the concept of fuckin Reddit is not even brought up despite Copley’s stalker board being analog Reddit #there’s just a lot of places one could go with this which is very much what we got here #1k

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nicolos · 3 years

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Nile Freeman Week 2021 — Day 1: The moment you fell in love with Nile

So, to be honest, this isn’t THE moment, - I don’t know what The moment would have been? The plane fight? When she goes to listen to music? The awkward dinner? Talking about her mother and brother? Choosing to return? There are so many fantastic moments that made me love Nile, so this is just one of Many, but I picked it because it’s a little underrated IMO.

Here we have Nile, who just until minutes ago was going to leave them for the moment, come back when she had to, thinking that there isn’t one good thing about any of this - and she meets this guy, who kind of proves her write, but also wants to tell her that she’s wrong, that there IS good, that she, the immortals, this is what they do. And what’s the first thing she sees?

Andy can’t see it. Andy doesn’t think there’s anything good in this, Andy didn’t try to defend herself, because she’s in it - it’s a complete rewriting of Nile’s understanding of what the immortals do in a way that nothing any of them told her is - it’s the moment, I think, when she decides to stay. Not just fight, stay. And that’s not the focus of the scene, not where Nile is concerned! It’s not even for herself that she’s relieved or worried - it’s for the others! It’s for Andy! One of the most wonderful but also most difficult to balance aspects of Nile is how much she loves others, how much I believe she wants to give others, and this scene really hits there!

I just... Nile IS the emotional core of this film, and seeing her rise to the defence of people she barely knows, seeing her connect dots and be the protector she is, watching her with the singular braincell in the film... I just love this scene TT

#the old guard #nile freeman #nileweek2021 #togedit #tog edit #mine #mine.#minegif #i just. love her a lot!#also this scene is LOVELY to colour #though balancing contrast was.. interesting #*100 #*200 #*500

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alwayskaysanova · 4 years

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anyway nile introduces the team to more technology and joe discovers podcasts

joe gets really in to the history podcasts but some people’s info is just plain Wrong so he decides to start his own

he swears to copley and the team that it will all be anonymous and no one will be able to trace it back to them but the people need to KNOW

he begins at the first crusades and slowly works his way through every conflict they’ve ever been involved with along with special episodes on famous people that he’s met along the way

nicky sits in on all the episodes and occasionally throws out a comment or acts as an alternative pov just to watch joe get all riled up ‘but is the earth truly round? where is the evidence?’ *joe spluttering in exasperation* (nicky very enthusiastically makes it up to him later)

andy special guest stars on a few episodes and drops all sorts of anecdotes from times before any of the team were alive ‘let me tell you something, cleopatra was more than just a pretty face, she could do this thing, with her tongue-’

*yusuf yelling* ‘off topic andy! lets move on!’

booker does a guest talk on napoleon and talks shit about him the whole time, ‘THE BUNNIES WERE RIGHT! THEY SHOULD HAVE EATEN HIM!’

when they find quynh she listens to it non stop purely so she can catch up on everything she’s missed, the team sometimes forgets the things she doesn’t know so they ask her opinion and every time she quips ‘the fish didn’t tell me about that one when i was in the ocean, drowning, please, do tell’

historians latch on to the podcast and collectively lose their minds bc HOW DO THEY KNOW ALL OF THIS THIS EXPLAINS SO MUCH WE NEED SOURCES

the podcast goes viral multiple times

joe really tries to keep himself as distanced as possible from the historical events he was involved in but sometimes he gets so into it that he slips up

*yusuf al kaysani voice* AND THAT is why you should never let your husband go alone to liechtenstein because he will get lost and make friends with an army and go home with them and then you will have to go on a quest to get him back

no one can decide if joe is just really in to history, a time traveler or trolling the whole world

copley weeps

#yusuf al kaysani #joe x nicky #kaysanova #kaysanov: crack #the old guard #the old guard: crack #andromache #nicolo di genova #booker #nile #copley #for context the liechtenstein army went to war with 80 soldiers #they came back with 81 and the extra one was ITALIAN #and napoleon once got his friends to organise a rabbit hunt #except his friends were idiots and let loose 3000 bunnies #and all the bunnies just fucking charged at napoleon #bc of course they did #they knew he was trash

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youssefguedira · 1 year

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Joe and Nile post apocalypse fic?? 👀 And Nicolegolas ofc!!

(wip ask game)

the joe and nile post apocalypse fic, working title the only hope for me is you but subject to change, is my MOST beloved atm. follows joe and nile after mumble mumble catastrophic event, in a fractured society largely now run by a vaguely evil corporation, separated from the others and trying to get back to them. it draws pretty heavily from a very specific albeit slightly unconventional piece of media source material-wise that i'm having fun messing with the existing information surrounding because it's my evil fic and i do what i want. i can't link the post atm because i can't search BUT. the transmission snippets are part of it (there'll be the main story, the flashbacks, and the transmissions). which is one of my favourite parts of the fic tbh but i wont say more than that for suspense reasons

nicolegolas as you almost certainly have guessed is my working document for our beloved tog lotr au. i do have the whole fellowship bit outlined but i havent yet Done Much with it. when i have free time again then you will all see. but here's a snippet ive got:

Yusuf nearly doesn't approach him at all.

Regardless of what Andy had said, when he reaches the small balcony she'd pointed him towards (more of a ledge, really, given its lack of any kind of railing) and sees Nicolò sitting there, his legs hanging over his edge and his back to Yusuf, shoulders slumped like he's carrying the weight of the world on them, it feels like something he shouldn't be witnessing. So he almost turns and goes back the way he came, certain that Andromache, or one of the hobbits, or even Sebastien will do a better job, because Nicolò hates him – but his job is, in part, to make people smile. He is not as much of a fighter as everyone else in this cobbled-together company, but that he can do.

Either way, before he can do anything, Nicolò turns and looks at him over his shoulder. He doesn't say a word. Yusuf is held in place by his gaze.

"Hi," Yusuf says after an uncomfortably long pause. "Andy– I wanted to see if you were okay."

Nicolò's lips quirk up into the tiniest of smiles at that, so slight Yusuf wonders if he'd imagined it. He turns away, his back to Yusuf once more.

"I know I'm not – I know we aren't friends, really, but. If you wanted to talk," Yusuf ventures, trails off mid-sentence when Nicolò shows no response. Maybe Andy was wrong, and he doesn't want company. Certainly not Yusuf's, at the least.

He decides to try one more time, at the least so he can tell Andy he did try, and because it wouldn't be right, he thinks, to leave him like this without one more attempt.

"Can I sit?" he asks.

Nicolò is silent long enough that Yusuf considers leaving, but then he looks over his shoulder once more and nods.

So Yusuf makes his way across the short space from the door to the ledge Nicolò is sitting on. He lowers himself down carefully, conscious of the fact that it's not particularly wide and there's barely an inch of space between them, and then swings his legs over the edge to mimic Nicolò's position. Below them, Lorien, in all its magical, eerie glory, and above them, through a break in the canopy of leaves, the stars. Somewhere, the elves are still singing the lament for Quynh, though it's faint, now.

"I'm sorry," is what Yusuf says, because he can't think of anything else. From this distance, Nicolò's eyes are red-rimmed, and he looks – he looks tired.

"Thank you," Nicolò responds. He doesn't look at Yusuf. Just keeps staring ahead.

"I didn't know her well," Yusuf says, "but. She was kind."

Nicolò is silent for a long time. Then – "She was my sister," Nicolò says, so quiet it's barely audible.

And Yusuf doesn't know what to say to that, because what can he say? So instead, he sits in silence, and waits.

After a while, Nicolò speaks again. "Tell me about something."

Yusuf nods, probably too quickly. "About what?"

"I don't know." Nicolò tilts his head then, finally looks at him properly. "You're a storyteller, no? Tell me a story."

There's something so quietly vulnerable in his voice, so exhausted, that Yusuf couldn't refuse even if he wanted to. "Okay," Yusuf says. "Okay."

So he does.

#neon answers #non-un-topo #only hope for me is you #tog lotr au #thank you!! i love talking about both of these #though i'm being intentionally vague about the first one for Suspense #there's a couple bits in there which. yeah.#i am very excited abt it #neon writes

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